Kindnessgirl

this has been the summer of…

organic produce
strengths finder
seal team physical training
popsicles
never feeling cool
high school musical
sheer emotional exhaustion

i hate feeling like i don’t have any options. it must be a letters thing http://www.personalitypage.com/
or something. i like to know there are in fact at least 32 flavors when i’m deciding on ice cream even though i always choose the same two. mint chocolate chip and some form of peanut butter and chocolate in case you were wondering…

i have felt very boxed in, trapped, at the end of my rope sort of feelings in my job for the last year. i desperately wanted to quit but was afraid to give up the money, flexibility, and extras it provided my family. as time went on the scale started tipping, was the work drama worth all of that ? after awhile it seemed that there had to be some greater lesson, the kind you have to sort out or learn or you’ll just be carrying that shit with you to the next place you go. so after being completely broken down, i surrendered and accepted the truth . i gathered my strength and faced the demon head on and then something weird and kind of amazing happened. i felt free, like suddenly there were lots of options- even in my shitty job.

when the dust in my soul settled, it was quiet. it hasn’t been peaceful in so long. i got two calls that week, someone offered me a job somewhere else and a call for an opportunity i didn’t even realize i’ve been preparing for all along. one of these isn’t even really an option, it’s more like in the dream category. i guess we are never really boxed in. it’s just that we might not consider the options we have. or maybe we are trying to make the path instead of the path finding us…

Turning six has made a huge impact on Josiah. His world has been instantly broadened by the biggest rite of passage in his short life- watching star wars. Even the tivo was tired of playing the discovery channel’s Science of Star Wars as it served as the authority of all things darth vader when he was merely five. It fueled the obsession, along with complex lego constructions and plastic light sabers. The time had finally come and the movie was all it was cracked up to be and more. The viewing gave way to empower many more requests “now that I’m six”.
The force is with Josiah, his mind is swirling with new ideas and possibilities.

While star wars is still foremost in his mind, recycling has become a close second. Everywhere we go he insists that he needs to take trash home for a very important project. The little ketchup cups at Wendy’s are necessary for bionicle building, the Cold Stone creamery bowl must be washed out in the bathroom because it would be the perfect top to a submarine, and he’s sure he will need the cup carrier at Baja Fresh for something although he’s not quite sure what that something is yet. And yes, we are eating a lot of fast food these days.

I keep reminding myself that this form of art is indeed important to his development and we aren’t just hauling a bunch of crap home. This trash is disguised as treasure. Josiah can see, he can see the treasure…the perfect thing that will complete or serve an important part of the whole. This is beauty to Josiah, the kind that we miss or never even care to consider.

I realized I’ve been doing a little recycling of my own lately. I’m sad to say it’s the worst kind. Recycling old thoughts, old anger and hurt in my heart. Feelings of insecurity, constant questioning, just believing that I suck. Things I thought had been thrown away. My job is like a magnet for bringing these things to the surface. I feel the force or maybe the darkside pulling down my soul. It’s been years since I was so full of self-doubt. The difference is I can see them now, I call them out but struggle to relinquish any power to them. They consume me, they drain my hope…

I keep searching for a new place to put this garbage but there is more this time and it doesn’t seem to fit in the can anymore. Maybe I’m missing the point. I keep trying to throw them away, hoping they will never return but maybe they are meant to be recycled, maybe even woven or painted into the art that is my life. I always choose the bright colors, but the dark hues give my canvas depth and a richness I never knew I needed.
My recycling must be transformed into something meaningful, at least to me. Then I can look at it, really look at it and see the purpose, feel the pain, accept the past and love the future. I guess in time I can be like Josiah- viewing everything in my world as a possiblility, something to create, something to make my own, something beautiful to me…

so i’m incredibly behind on my broadway musicals but in my heart, i am a true blue believer. anything that involves cheesy music, over-acting and jazz hands has me to my core. even right now, this very moment, i am listening to newsies while i write this post. if you even know what i am talking about, you are my best friend forever….

open the gates and seize the day friends….seize the day!

you can imagine my excitement when someone mentioned to me that the choir at church was singing seasons of love from the play RENT last sunday. i ducked out of a room of crying children to catch the song.

the choir had a little light in their eyes and a tiny hop in that sway they do when they sing. they looked particularly excited to be singing a different sort of anthem, not just happy for themselves but hopeful for the people they were singing to. it was an intergenerational choir- babies to old people. i liked that.
525,600 minutes…how do you measure a year? in daylight, in sunsets or cups of coffee. how about love? measure our lives in love…
the song rang through my head all day long. i woke up the next morning and downloaded the song, i walked to my movie store and rented the movie version. measure my life in love?

there are so many to love. people I know, people I don’t know, big people, little people and everything in between, people of different races, cultures, creeds…and the even greater question? how well do I love myself?

i embrace this anthem and make it my little theme song for my life this week. i pretend i very tragically have aids or some terminal illness (just like the play) and think what about what i want to be known for. i call my sister and insist that we must measure our lives by love. all forms, all ways…love through art, through beauty, through hope and the list goes on.

and then I remember what love looks like in my everyday life…

love means…

playing lots more lego star wars computer game (i’ve been told i’m not a very good jumper but i should keep trying)
not freaking out when jack “accidentally” licks me- nothing grosses me out more
holding lucy more
choosing to receive the intention of my boss’ heart and accept what he is capable of
doing the wash for my husband
keeping the massage appointment for myself even though it is an ungodly amount of money
writing the next zine that is in my heart
giving myself over to art, believing my voice is still there
going to see ruth (my old lady neighbor)
start planning that white water rafting trip for my 30th
maybe enrolling my kid in the ghetto school
calling my dad…

may the caterpillars in my yard feel my sheer delight in them, may my children experience the intense joy i feel for them by long pillow fights and popsicles on the porch, may the people at my church know the depth of my spiritual hope even if i struggle with the institution, may my husband somehow share my deep happiness in living our everyday lives together…may i measure my life in love.

my mother reminds me on a regular basis that i’ll forget all the amazing, funny and endearing things my children say when i am old. it’s hard to imagine but since i forgot that there was a field trip yesterday i’m sure it’s completely possible.
so, in true ginny hammond (my mother) fashion, i promptly went to the grocery store and bought a knife, cute plate, and veggies and assembled my platter (during the red lights) that i signed up to bring. and it looked pretty. this might be the super power passed down to me: bringing resourcefulness and pretty together.

the subject of super powers has been a topic at our house lately. as i was pulling out yet another splinter (our wood floors are awful) from josiah’s foot without even a flinch, this was our conversation:

me: josiah, i think your super power could be bravery. you are very brave.
josiah: yeah, i think you are right, i am brave.
jack: my supah powah is hugging.
josiah and me: YEAH! that is so true jackie boy…

jack has this way of hanging on your neck during the most uninvited moments, but you really can’t argue. it’s pure love… and then he insists on hugging you at least 3 times before you leave to go anywhere and follows you to the door proclaiming his love. “i luv you so buch mama!”
yes, hugging is definitely his super power…

that jackie-boy…we had a funny when he was deciding what to order at a restaurant the other day. i read him the menu and he decided on fish and french fries. he later changed his mind because he was worried the fish would eat his fries…

during a complex game of “attack”- god knows whose bright idea that was, josiah flung a wood puzzle at jack’s head. he later said he thought he would catch it but whatever, jack ended up with a gash on the top of his head. i found jack howling and blood dripping off of his curls. when i finally calmed him down he said he was really scared because his head was “broken”. this lead to a long scientific explanation on scabs and how the body knows just what to do to fix broken heads…

lest you think josiah is a complete animal i should share some of this child’s goodness. i was preparing a hope rock for a friend who happened to be really down. josiah inquired and i explained what was going on.

josiah: is that from you? that rock?
me: yeah
josiah: you can’t do that!
me: do what? why?
josiah: that rock has to be from our whole family mom, that can’t be just from you. our family is about loving people mom! our whole family mom!
me: oh, sorry.
josiah: yeah mom, you have to remember that.
me: do you think that could be our family’s super power? loving people?
josiah: yes, it is, that is DEFINITELY our super power!

so here’s my girl….(sigh) it’s hard to describe exactly how i feel about her. let’s just say the love is deep and rich. 

there are 2 things that have been on my mind lately, my husband and nutella. i feel like i’m not getting enough of either these days…and trust me when i get very unlady-like and say, i could eat both all day long! 🙂

i was thinking yesterday that if i were stuck on a desert island for the rest of my life, nutella is something i might possibly never get sick of. i could spread it on damn near everything- leaves, twigs, sand and it would be scrumpt-delio-umptious!

and as for my husband, anyone that has known me for more than say, 10 minutes, knows i can be that annoying junior high girl and talk incessantly about her boyfriend. you know, the one she breaks up with the following week…but this one stuck. i was pondering how at almost 30 if this is even normal? god knows my husband can drive me absolulety crazy, i’m keenly aware of his shit but i really am still dreamy about him. i feel sort of strange about this and i’m not sure why, but oh screw it, here are the things i like about jorgie-

cool things ALWAYS happen to him and when you are with him
he’s fun to drink with
he brings you trashy magazines when you are sick
he makes a mean strawberry/pina colada
he secretly pretends he’s a bartender
he cares about old people
he supports my do-gooding habit- which always stretches us financially
he’s quiet about his own do-gooding
he’s up on all things media and technology- and music and pop culture
he indulges my rants and only sets me straight when absolutley necessary
he blogs- http://3bte.blogspot.com/
he can keep a secret
he’s a great player- kids think of him as a jungle-gym
he cleans up when i go to work- he didn’t always do this
he has kind eyes
he’s hot as HELL!!
he’s a kindred spirit- if i can use a girly word
he loves me deeply….

i miss you my friend…

lately everywhere i go the hooligans erupt with a new wildness in their hearts. i don’t know if it’s just silliness at a new level, like they know my mind and hands are too full to require order.
i think i might have become “that mother” in the grocery store.
lucy in the sling gazes sweetly into my eyes while her brothers run circles around me as i try to pick through the crappy winter produce at wal-mart.

i just give a little sigh, tune the chaos out and pray they aren’t driving the people crazy around us. they look happy though, they laugh loudly, they aren’t annoyed when they finally get into trouble. they just become even more bonded by the height of the fun and the depth of the punishment, the hooligans are in it together- rain or shine. i vascillate between being completely annoyed and secretly delighted by their fun and deep love for each other.

lucy is happy to be close, nothing much rattles her. she smiles only for her big brother and papa.
she sleeps so deeply, so deeply i have worried if she can hear at all. she sleeps through hockey games, parades, loud whoops and hollering. my postpartum dramatic self has been watching mr. holland’s opus and researching deaf schools on the internet. my dear husband continues to assure me that she turns her head to follow my voice in a room, he is a good man…

this is life with three…i understand the other mothers who say it was the third that drove them over the edge. no one is particularly hard but collectively it seems MUCH more than two ever did.
this is the time when i crave wise women. the kind that smile when you tell them what your day is like. they remember those days and know that somehow it works out. the hooligans turn out to be adult men that do not run circles in the grocery stores, that little girls grow up and go to rock concerts to lose their hearing, and young mothers will someday grow old and smile when they see a harried woman in sweats and a sling carrying her baby with 2 little boys following behind…

so here we are, like 10 days from my due date, baby girl at 0 station (and has been for like weeks) and the girl has no name. i mean, there are names floating around in the atmosphere for her but none that feel like “the name”.

i wonder in my heart if we just need to meet first. to see her little face and then somehow i’ll know. truth be told, i REALLY want to name her peace but there is just something about her kicks that tell me she might not be a peace sort of girl, like she might have a little fire in her soul.

and then i remind myself that there is so much of me that is gentle and peaceful but yet i hold that fire deep in my soul too. it is reserved for the most passionate of topics like injustice and unkindness in the world. and the president…

i don’t think it would ever fly with my little family either but i just can’t totally embrace their names. normally, i would have given in by now but i feel baby girl should have a special name. something that expresses all that she already is and everything she will become…

what could the two possibly have in common you ask? well, they both make me happy…very happy.
i gave up refined sugar for about 6 weeks- hard core i tell you, jorge laughed at me when i said i was going to do it. but the thing i realized is, i just love ice cream too much. so now i’m eating almost no refined sugar except ice cream, mint chocolate chip to be exact, and the occasional milk chocolate indulgence. i find this is a better balance for both my soul and mood.

and i really like eating healthy otherwise…my love affair with fresh fruits and vegetables has only intensified during this pregnancy. hopefully this will be passed on to my baby girl too…

and then there’s def poetry jam. it has to be like the best kind of church ever. every week i can barely wait for the next one. i find myself crying and laughing while being convicted and inspired. and then i rewatch them over and over during the week. these are the things that get a girl through i tell you…ice cream and poetry….

so after allowing the news that we are having a girl to soak in a bit my mind is swirling with thoughts. i find it funny that we both were so shocked. jorge kept saying, “i just thought we have boys in our family…”. like the possibility never crossed his mind, silly boy.

and yet every day that passes, this baby girl weaves her way into our hearts and family, like she’s always been there. like we desperately needed her but we never realized it. she completes us and she isn’t even born. the brothers seem tighter than ever, they have been playing fabulously together lately. god knows they might be fighting like cats and dogs next week but for today they give each other sloppy kisses and tight hugs and then say, “ewwww….” and laugh at each other. all i can think is that their friendship is exactly as it should be.

i keep having these feelings of mothern concern and protectiveness in a way i haven’t felt before. not so much because of her gender but because she is my baby, my youngest. this is strange and new for me. i delight in her, but i don’t know her yet. i can imagine what she might look like and guess about her little personality, but none of this matters exactly because she just fits.

her name is a constant discussion. josiah was dead set on lucy for quite sometime until last night when he suggested stella. i’ve been voting for deeply meaningful cool names like peace and trinity. everyone looks at me like i can’t be serious. jorge likes more classic names with a slightly masculine edge and jack thinks “mama” is a good name. i suspect i will be the one compromising here…
part of me really wants her to have a name soon. it just connects me and makes her identity all the more real. like we are welcoming someone we already know but are dying to meet.

i pray she feels the same way about us…

did you ever get a thank you note that you felt like you should write a thank you back for the thank you? oh…i just got the sweetest, most gentle, kindred spirit kind from someone i barely know.

these sorts of experiences bond me to people. it was such a nothing little care package i sent- i just kept thinking, “i hope this is all okay.” and then it was more than okay. my heart feels full, i want to cry. i feel so blessed and touched to meet people people in pain or hard times. the thank you seems just wrong. when people allow you to be part of their lives during hard times, i don’t know, it just means so much to me. like such a gift, especially when you really get each other. god, if i could live every day of my life taking meals, preparing care packages, and hearing people’s hearts and souls- *sigh*- i learn so much from friends like these- i just don’t know why i don’t do it more. what holds me back? i think of people all the time and never pick up the phone. i wonder how they are doing or know something major is going on- i wonder how it went but i rarely act on these thoughts.

or i just know someone needs something i have to give but i get too busy, preoccupied, or distracted. it keeps me from such joy and fullness in my heart. some days i just want to forget my faith and live my life – forget it all, and just live everyday without the questions, the things that cause me angst, and just do these things that make me so happy. that is what feels real…just love…

so here’s the quote on the cover of the thank you card- (it was from one of my most favorite childhood books…)

“real isn’t how you are made. it’s a thing that happens to you. when a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with but REALLY loves you, then you become real…it doesn’t happen all at once. you become. it takes a long time. that’s why it doesn’t often happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. generally, by the time you are real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and get loose in the joints and very shabby. but these things don’t matter at all, because once you are real you can’t be ugly, except to people that don’t understand.”

-explained the skin horse to the velveteen rabbit-

we have to love each other…there are so many more i need to love…..

i thought maybe this girl was in regular growing up kind of trouble or something…turns out it’s secondary cancer. the prognosis is not good, she’s in her 20’s. nancy (my midwife) and i talked and talked about it today. birth and death are such right of passages. it is such a honor to stand next to anyone during these times. and i just love that people of different faiths are coming together to do this work. i saw the prayer pole today….my heart hasn’t stopped praying since i left. it’s almost all i can think about and it puts my problems in such perspective.

i’ve been looking for a faith community outside the church, i can just barely stand church right now. spirituality and birth are so connected for me, it makes so much sense that there might be a faith connection there for me.

i was quite the suzy homemaker today. this is the side i’ve been neglecting for let’s say, oh 2 years now. i have flashes of martha moments but i’ve been too busy finding myself recently.
i’m in my late 20’s, what can i say?

when your house looks like this… 

i started thinking about my mother and how she cried everytime we were leaving after a visit with my grandparents. she wasn’t sure she’d see them again, in that house, that one she grew up in. it was like 15 years she cried like that…it seemed a little silly at the time but now i totally understand. it isn’t that i think they will die anytime soon, it’s just that being there reminded me that they will die someday.