cowboy morning

A bit obsessed with bento-esque kid food lately. (www.anotherlunch.com) Also, the wild one has dived deeply into character stories in his imaginative world. There will be much costuming this fall, I feel. Just continuing the family tradition. Wahoo for 50% abott days.

Today Siah and I were sitting at the table while he enjoyed peanut butter and jelly as only kids can, reading a stack of books. He received this book for Christmas from my in-laws and I LOVE IT, especially since it is filled with brown people and non-anglo Jesus and the heart of God. We were reading about how the Bible is a story that sometimes people think is about rules or heroes or a nation, but how it's really a story about God and in the middle is a baby and that baby grew up to be the biggest hero ever, and I asked Si if he remembered baby Jesus from when we talked about him at Christmas time.

He said, "Dep, momma, dep. Yeah-Yeah love baby Jesus." (Yep, momma, yep. Siah loves baby Jesus)

I got choked so up and said, "Yeah Siah, momma loves baby Jesus too. And baby Jesus loves Siah." To which his eyes widened, and he said, "DEP!"

I have a fear of brain-washing my children with religiosity, when really I just want them to know the whole, beautiful truth and self of God. We tell the stories, we go to church, we practice life as the church, we focus on truth and love and grace in our parenting and as a family. But I know that true relationship is deeply personal, and I want to respect our children's own stories with God as they explore that. Never to have this.

When my small boy, who is just learning what it is to love someone or something ("Yeah-Yeah love hi-ho momma. Yeah-Yeah love pitates. Yeah-Yeah love Buzz.") shared an unprompted open heart about Him who I love most of all; I can't even explain. In that moment I understood what the difference was between the brain-washing and the genuine spirit. And I was humbled and overwhelmed and overjoyed and trying not to cry so that he would finish his apples while we read more stories. Language has enabled me to share this greatest love and hope and truth with him in a way that I never had been able to before.

A friend of mine reminds me that the kingdom of God comes through babies. Although I am not often able to unpack the whole of what that entails, today I was able to taste a wide and delicious slice of it. In a season of my life that has taken over my mind and soul, I very much needed to experience the washing over of the promise and spirit of God as He holds my family so much more expertly than I.

iphone photos for the week

it's good to be home and creative with the small boy again.

run. ran. running.

I bought a pair of ridiculous looking shoes and began to run. It took a long time to get over it all. The "it" being the healthy husband, the marathoning friends, the serious lack of lung health, the absolute distrust of my ability to find success in any sport-related activity, and not being able to ever find my sports bra.

The runners I know and love run for miles and miles and eat gels and train and race and track and time. I love them and their running love; it's why, after 5 years of supporting their gatoradey ways, I began -- and think I can actually follow through this time. I am not training for a race. I am not monitoring my speed/distance/calories. I am not ever having the expectation of doing this for more than 30-40 minutes at a time. My only goals are weight related. And it feels different. Maybe the endorphins? Maybe the opportunity to be in the wild by myself for a while? Maybe I am just in that expanding place and want to run in the trees alongside of Jesus and sometimes joey and sometimes siah and feel the physical free that my heart has returned to.

Yes, that sounds right.

from many thousands of feet above the desert

Mostly I feel like looking out the window at the stream of broken lights and weeping. She is a shattered girl, collected in a tall glass with a lid that doesn't fit quite right. I am a shattered girl who is familiar to this feeling of having been spilled upon the kitchen floor, my important bits lost beneath the lip of the cupboard. I will be collected in the dustpan again, and reglued into the next manifestation of self. I will be whole and new again again again. So will she. Again again again.

flying back from utah

there is a lot of tree cutting going on, originally uploaded by paperelephant.

home to the small boy


how i missed you so

my wee boy who

tumbles

and laughs

and

reads about whales

digging to a face of dust

tucked beneath

my chin

kicking kicking

kicking

my knees

home is so much more

of

you

minor toddler tragedies

I just retraced our afternoon trip, scanning the curbs for a lost Leonardo. Drove obnoxiously slow, peering into the grass for a lime green, fuzzy monster. He went to bed a little bummed, but I am incapable of understanding loved creatures as anything less that secretly sentient. I blame the Velveteen Rabbit and an over-active imagination. I'm having Toy Story flashbacks. Thank the Lord for Amazon.

best nona

favorite, favorite, favorite.

I am looking forward to many more days of this in my life.

no sleep for brooklyn

I have a love/hate relationship with sleep. Always have. I've never slept well, even as a little girl. I have these sleep paralysis nightmares sometimes, more often if I'm stressed or really tired. I used to sleep on my back every night, but doing so increases your chances of having one, so I don't anymore. I miss it. Anyway, I've had insanely vivid dreams of aliens outside my window, of joey being murdered, of the house being robbed, etc with this sleep paralysis thing. Not fun.

Siah seems to have unfortunately inherited my propensity for messy sleep. It it isn't often he ever truly sleeps through the night (not that 5-hour baloney, LEGITIMATELY sleeping through and not having to be snuggled back to sleep at some point during the middle), which kills me, however sweet it can be. He seems to be getting a bit more on that trolley now (at 18 months), but we're still at a 60/40 sort of chance.

Naps used to be hell. there were always a few weeks during the 3 naps a day/2 naps a day season where he would sleep for a full 45 minute cycle (or even an hour and a half!!) for each one and we could have good, balanced days. But most days we would spend completely unable to find success with his daytime sleeping. Joey would call from school and my voice would be dead and flat. Trying to teach someone to sleep has been one of the most defeating experiences I've ever known. I had bought Healthy Sleep Habits, Healthy Child out of desperation when he was around 10 months old (I think -- honestly all I remember is exhaustion) and read it in 2 days. I'm not keen on many of his more severe implementations in the book, but the ideal schedule and needed sleep times were SO freeing for me. I was able to establish more of his routine, etc, etc, it changed our every days.

But then.

There is always a "but then."

I try not to live in mortal fear of them.

Morning naps were amazing, but afternoon naps were turning into the bloodiest of celebrity death matches. Misery all around! And because I am wonderfully brainless, I FORGOT TO REVISIT THE BOOK. It went on for months. MONTHS. Screaming, crying, fighting, holding for hours and hours and hours; the absolute destruction of our motivation and momentum of EVERY SINGLE DAY.

Here, I will interject: being a stay at home mom is awesome. I love it. Favorite job, Full, challenging, rewarding, hilarious and exhausting at every step. However, in order to keep finding success with pre-verbal children, you have to work your ass off at helping them find out how to be the best version of themselves in every situation. And they can't have a reasoning conversation with you, let alone a non-reasoning one where you just win Because You're The Mom. You have to capitalize on the momentum of the small successes you find in the morning to carry you through the afternoon. Momentum is key. At least for me.

So. When we'd have these "naps" of destruction, it would literally demolish our days. Walls reduced to rubble, blackened patch of smoking carpet where the crib used to be. Tiny tragedies of the every day. Finally, I remembered the book. I reread the appropriate section. I shifted a few things. I anticipated a 3 week process (my dear, wise mom friend always advises 2-4 weeks for life changes). It only took a week and a half. Afternoon naps only. Between 2 to 3 hours each day! GLORIOUS CELEBRATION ALL AROUND! THE HEAVENS REJOICED!

And it has lasted. It's amazing. Our world has shifted and there is great relief and success. Deep sighs of joy and gratitude for the eternal hope that the joy of the Lord can be found even within the dark recesses of a tired toddler's routine. The season is looking up.

*Also, the other night I thought I heard him climb out of his crib and pad down the hallway, come next to my side of the bed, giggle, and TRY TO YANK ME DOWN INTO THE DEPTHS OF HELL. I promptly woke up from a sleep paralysis episode FREAKED OUT OF MY MIND, praying that he never, never learns to hoist himself over those weak wooden bars.

ewoks are the best woks

It's no secret that I come from a wide line of Star Wars-loving, sci-fi geeks. My torch does not burn nearly as brightly as others in my family, but; BUT, I took my long-standing desire to have my very own ewok out on my son for his second ever halloween. Probably the easiest costume I've ever made, and definitely my most favorite.

Leftover fur and curtains from when Joe was a jedi. Measured from overalls and a hoodie.

We took him downtown.

People were pretty stoked. Especially the guys.

But how could you not love this face?

So much fun.

Also, today's favorite creations from the internets. People are amazing.

hair

one day, because i did not sleep, because someone is getting every single tooth at once, because i am too cheap, because i am afraid of looking like an anchorwoman, because i do not feel like doing the dishes or putting away laundry, because i need to drop some lbs, because i miss dying my hair, because my face is rather broken out, because the aunt is all the way in seattle, because it is all swiftly shifting,



i cut bangs.

rain and steps (of a few kinds)

It rained for the first time all season yesterday. I love it. Joey does not. Oh the conflict of a desert rat and a northwest girl. We even made it to church for the first time in ages. Also, because I am an old lady, I slipped and fell all the way down my porch steps and broke a hip. Not really. Banged up my knee pretty badly though, and scared the sweet potatoes out of my small son (who I was not holding, thank you for your concern). Makes for some challenging "crawl around and chase after me like a monster" playing.

Right now I am trying to teach the very athletic child that blocks are for stacking and not for throwing, as his aim has become surprisingly direct, and I am concerned for our new and fancy tv. He knocked the phone off its perch this morning, narrowly missing the new (sort of) and fancy computer. Yeep. I like my wild boy quite a lot, destruction and all. The most fascinating and encouraging thing to me has been with the intentional and gentle discipline and correction that comes with teaching another person how to interact in society and community and life. He is (for such a little dude) genuinely responsive and has this sweet little nature and sincere desire to obey. Trying to support that and meet him in that way. I like this adventure most days.

haiku for the whelmed

malted blue kitchen
enabled all of my life
almost bought a house

trying to be as
responsible as i can
finish paperwork

not doing too well
sleeping like a normal girl
adrenaline kills

a pink eyedropper
ibuprofen suspension
gums and crooked teeth

favorite

mr. joshua bennett is remarkable and i love this.



as well as this.



when one is living out their created glory you can feel it across your skin.

reminiscing

from an old journal i revisited tonight:

2.21.02

I am on my way to London, hopefully headed in the right direction. I got on the train to Malmô to find that I could go no farther than the entrance. It's crammed full of people. There is a family of sweet grandparents and three blonde, blue-eyed, lilting-voiced, young girls. An older girl is with them, lovely and beautiful in that European sort of way, but with kind eyes. That is not common. I am balancing on Elly's backpack with my toes against the wall in front of me. I understand the children. They're making a fort of scarves.

There are two thick army boys with their buzzed heads and hardened eyes. A gay man with a tight, black uniform and beautiful features squirms out of the bathroom. His eyes are fearful and tender and sad. I wonder what he has known. The wire waste-basket is above my knees, spilling out milk cartons and universal McDonald's cups leaking leftover coke. The little girls sing made up songs in the dancing language as the sun flashes into our cramped cabin. I feel God's tender heart.

I actually made it. To Malmô at least. How wonderful it will be to be among people who speak English again. As I was on the bus, watching the neighborhoods blink past in the dark sky, I thought I was in San Rafael again. How odd to forget you are on one side of the world. There is a man in gray, sagging around the edges with hair that is to young for him, flirting cockily with the information woman inside the glass box. His teeth are chipped in front as he smiles. I wonder if she finds them attractive.

feather head

morning doodle inspired by the washing of a down mummy bag the mice got to... safety pins do not a patch make. wahoo for cleaning out a feathery washer drum!

on a side note, the man pad of the garage is pretty complete! and livable! for people who aren't afraid of sleeping bag-destroying rodentia!

also, september is finally over. life is slowly coming back. as long as we stop having 90-degree weather, i will survive. and my house will be clean. post-summer clean.

also, my dog is mostly blind. which is sad. she seems okay with it, though. as far as i can tell. siah loves on her quite excessively. now that he is ridiculously mobile and can throw nearly anything, they are getting along relatively well. sometimes there is a lull in the mania and we find ourselves with some sweet, rockwellian moments. sometimes...

for kit

there are women in my world who have my heart as i have theirs. we exist through seasons and mountains and deserts and oceans. i would not survive my life nearly so well without them.

kit is moving to seize her life with the orff folk in austria for a year. this is so very, very good. and i will miss her quite a lot. made this for her the other night. because it is that sort of a season for her.

fluency

I love this guy. Hilarious. Wonderful. So fabulous. I've always wanted my children to be fluent in a variety of languages, but have seriously dropped the ball regarding my own fluency. Makes it hard to teach the small one. We speak rudimentary spanish, veeerrrrryyyy basic asl, and... well... english. It's actually kind of sad for me. I wish our swedes lived closer than sweden, the arabic boy was across the street, and that my high school spanish teacher wasn't such a discouraging whack job. One of the reasons I wish we were in the city. Easier access to the multicultural life. However, I know that as he gets older, we can seek it out and immerse as much as possible. Just need to make sure that we actually do.

today

I want:
hair like a twenties flapper
long enough naps for a full yoga session
to buy my house
a stress-free budget
to go to disneyland
my sister to visit
hiring to be complete
camp to come

I need:
to do the laundry
to clean the house
to drive to santa cruz and get siah's social security number so that i can do our taxes
to call my dad
to get my stroller from pleasanton
some serious excercise

notes from the day:
having a salad for lunch is voided by having nachos for dinner
small, shrieky men want to mash the keyboard instead of sit contentedly while you work
sunshine and time changes bring out so many more happy things than the exhaustion can conquer
oodles of old friends are pregnant and i want very much badly to love on them in person

a. yes, i'm weak sauce at the posting right now.
excuses: sick, mastitis, non-napping baby, busted dryer, crazy weather, yada yada yada

b. fall collections are oozing their way out and it is so nice to see fashion turning around after last year's sad tribute to economic depression. as off her noodle as donatella versace is, i wish i was a man because the leather jackets (and almost every other one) are so tasty. and galliano is as surreal as dali, but those suits are delicious. as much as i abhor pastels and glittery foofness, i think the chanel haute couture collection is remarkably beautiful. favorite website presenting collections: project rungay, for so many reasons.

c. we are deep in the throes of Friday Night Lights. i never want to live in texas. i moderately dread my continued life as a coach's wife. high school is hilarious and terrible and i'm very glad it's over. i LOVE the wife. that is all.

d. i like my boy even though he's a whackadoo. especially because he's a whackadoo.