Kindnessgirl

carville that is, jorge is mary matlin for sure.

how we are living together during this election year i’ll never know. it rattles me to think jorge loves that dude. my husband is such an intelligent man, it just doesn’t make sense.

jorge did the bed time routine with josiah last night and ended up falling asleep. he missed most of the debate, and i have to say i am secretly glad. whenever we talk politics, he knows just how to push my buttons and i end up ranting and raving much like james. the dinner conversation was the most i could do. i wore my “war is unhealthy for children and other living things” t-shirt to fuddruckers in richmond, virginia. jorge is used to me now, but i could feel the stares in the room. i don’t really look like a hippy (i’m really not) either, it’s confusing to people i’m sure.

i kinda like to be controversial from time to time but i must admit i do think of beckey every time i put that t-shirt on. her husband was deployed to both afghanistan and iraq. i also think of nicole, an online friend who’s husband is in iraq now. i would never want to hurt either of these women.

it doesn’t change the truth of the t-shirt though. war is not healthy, no matter how you dice it. i keep thinking of all the possibilities, thinking somehow it can be justified. human beings killing other human beings. how exactly do you point a gun at someone else and pull the trigger, someone else’s dad, brother, son. what are you thinking or do you just not think? maybe you just can’t think. life, taking life away from someone, how can you really live after that? doesn’t it haunt you? even if you feel you did it for a cause? it is so hard for me to understand…i know it is much more complicated than this, i know people are protecting their families, their religion, their freedom, their own lives, the things they hold dear. i’m sure the evil and pain inspires the passion or the desire to fight, but it still feels so sad, so wrong to me. how did we get here?

i am a young, privileged, white woman in america. there is much i do not understand because i have never experienced the pain and hardship like so many others have in this world. but i want to hold to the ideal that war is not the answer, at least not the first. i want to understand, i want to know more, it pains me to think we are hurting each other.

it’s jimmy carter’s birthday today. this gives me hope. this man actively pursues peace. his heart is genuine and kind. he serves others in the most unassuming way. and he hasn’t stopped, at 80, he hasn’t given up. he hasn’t become cynical or jaded, he just keeps working. which is so much more important than wearing a t-shirt or arguing politics over a burger. the hope lies in people’s action…i wanna be jim, carter that is.

so we had a crowd over for football yesterday. i had no idea we were even having a party but that’s usually how these things go. i don’t mind though, these friends are easy, you want to open your house to them. there is a sense of community that is familiar to me. i was worried about not having any food but they straggled in bearing pizzas, chili and homemade salsa.

and late in the evening there was a run for expensive, decadent cheesecake….this is the best way to be about meals- impulsive and decadent.

there is always a new face, someone randomly invites someone but everyone else seems to know or know of the person except jorge and i. i quickly try to figure out who is connected to who and how. this is life in richmond virginia, everyone always comes back. so while getting to know wendy(a fascinating policy analyst) i casually ask her what her letters are.

find out yours: http://www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-win/JTypes2.asp

“istj, that’s so funny, my friend and i were just talking about that the other day. people rarely know about myers briggs. what are yours?”

“oh, i’m an esfj. i could talk about it forever.”

“me too.”

so we continue to talk letters for the next half hour. i am instantly endeared to wendy- bff i’m sure. jorge wanders into the dining room and i tell him wendy’s letters and then they discuss letters too. jack starts to stir so i run in the bedroom to nurse him back down. jorge pops his head in a few minutes later, “babe, adam and aaron are taking the myers-briggs test. ”

“are you serious, this is like my fantasy party!”

“i know babe, come on out.”

before i know it we are all crowded around the tiny screen reading about each other in depth. everyone is talking over everyone else.

“oh, i LOVE your letters.”

“that is so you.”

“it’s pretty on.”

“hey, this totally explains your love for weed dude.”

“just skip over the lover part.” (the explanation of the kind of lover you are)

how this party went from a football party to a myers-briggs party, i’ll never know. but i have to say, it was a pleasant surprise.

jackie-boy and mama 

in lieu of having professional photographs taken of my children like the rest of the world, i ‘ve accidentally decided to use chuck e. cheese. you know those photo booths that “draw” the picture of you and your loved ones, a la photoshop…i’ve collected quite a few of those over the past year or so. i go almost as often as the reponsible parents go to olan mills and lets face it, 25 cents a pop and that print signed by chuck himself, it’s almost better. (and i love black and whites) 😛

my 28 sounds so grown up. like you should somewhat have your shit together. still working on that one.

i woke up to a rainy, kind of dreary day. it sort of fit the feel of my birthday. it has been sort of a non-day, not very celebratory in nature. and jorge ate the lemon muffin i bought for myself especially for this morning. that bastard.

i’m not really comfortable with lots of attention but i do enjoy thoughtfulness and a kind “happy birthday” here and there. my kids have been fighting all morning, the screeching from jack- oh dear god. it’s enough to drive a mother looney.

jorge took me to lunch in hopes of making up for the muffin incident. it was nice but i think this birthday needs a do-over. whenever things are going poorly with my kids (either i’m acting badly or they are) i sometimes suggest a do-over and we recreate it how we want it or how it should of been. i might declare a do-over for this birthday so everyone i love the most will have a chance to celebrate my existence in the way they meant to the first time.

we all need to be celebrated, we need to know we are deeply loved, that we are adored, cared for and that someone thinks life is wonderful now that we are in the world.

on a personal note- 27 rocked! it was such a growing year for me. i did so many of the things i really wanted to do but never had before. i have explored my art, got brave and started to really write and be vulnerable,i did things for myself, i enjoyed and found humor in the flaws of my marriage, i found a new identity outside of my family, i let myself feel all the angst of my faith, i was impulsive, i took some chances…i feel like i know how to do it now and am really looking forward to 28. i’m not so afraid anymore and am ready to embrace much more, i am hopeful and excited for the next year of my life.

my amazing post about how my husband rocks just got sucked into the blogger black hole…that just sucks ass (jorge is the only one that appreciates my occasional crass humor).

the short of it is….

in the past, i have fantasized about divorce (never with any real intention) but it gets a girl through on a bad marriage day to imagine her dream dude- btw, this guy changes ALL the time.

but lately, i have been surprised by my feelings. i am still (after 6 years of marriage and 12 years together) so very hot for my husband. not just in a jump-his-bones kind of way, but in a i-love-being-your-friend way too

here’s to you jorgina-

“what’s up bitch?”

“we’ll be out in a minute (or 30) boys…”

“we should have a party so we have to clean our house”

that labor day morning- you know which one i’m talkin’ about- oh my stars

“i don’t wanna be the family motivator”

“you order the food, i’ll pick it up”

my foremost teacher on fun

you can trust me (about the money)

getting to sleep next to you in bed

listening to my work drama

letting me research job opportunities ad nauseum

truly thoughtful gifts

your car and the junkyard

that feeling i get when you walk in a room

your schemes

a deep, deep love…

-p

ugh…i have some serious writer’s block. it’s tied to something deep in me. i need to try to write myself out of this paper bag…it’s frustrating. a topic i know in and out, it’s as easy as breathing in my everyday life but i can’t articulate it. i keep trying while the letters on backspace button are being worn away.

i have something to say, something to share, something i really believe in…but honestly, i feel young, i feel unworthy, uneducated, like i’m not the person that should be writing about my passion. the language is so simple, it should be more technical, i don’t have the mind. i ride on my intuition, it just isn’t enough.

i just can’t get the words out they way i envision in my head. it’s like seeing a picture in my head and trying to paint it but i just can’t even come close. the picture is fuzzy where the strokes should be smooth, the outline is rough where the lines should be round. the message, the thing that moves and stirs your heart just isn’t being conveyed. the window to my soul, the part i want you to really see is distorted.

i don’t know how to solve it…maybe it just isn’t the time, maybe i’m just not ready, i hope it comes, i hope it flows, i really want to find my voice…

man, i wish i had something reflective or interesting to say but i got nothin’.

i’ve been on major output the last week or so. i helped my sister throw a snooty d.c. dinner party for 25 (i was “the help”), watched a friend’s little boy all week so she could clean her house for a home visit from a waldorf school to prove her waldorf-worthiness, and i am knee deep in another writing project.

next week is a big week at work- it’s fall kick-off, so i have an insane amount of work to do. i really just want to lay around and watch movies. and eat comfort food…

hope everyone else is having either a very productive or extremely lazy week…

thompson street. where the hell is thompson street? the clock reads 7:08 on my sad little car, i’m late and still lost. what was the name of that church again? i reach for my scribbled on paper and try to make out my chicken scratch. i catch a glance in the rear view mirror to see josiah happily drinking from his sippy cup looking around to see where his slightly crazy mother is taking him next.

ahhh…there it is. trinity lutheran, there are plenty of cars, this must be it. i grab my sweet baby who is looking less like a baby and more like a toddler everyday and walk into my local la leche league chapter meeting. i walk in hoping to find some answers to the questions that keep me up at night. the questions that seem so big and heavy in my mind as a mother, this is my answer.

lots of slings and very tiny babies, there are other moms that look like me- a little tired and worn out yet happy to be in the company of other women. there is a feel of escape in the room, like everyone has arrived in a safe place and would like to camp out for the night. the leaders are warm and kind and offer gentle suggestions and genuine support. but i have an uncommon problem and the oldest kid in the room and i leave feeling a little less than, not quite getting what i needed but happy to have made a connection.

almost a year later, a similar scenario, but a different meeting. i’m on my way to an alternative birth support meeting. josiah’s legs dangle down past the seat. he is most definitely a toddler and still wondering where his slightly crazy and i should add pregnant mother is taking him. we walk in to find more slings but also older children. i am anticipating drawing from the wisdom of parenting in the room. the meeting ends and i make a beeline for a woman named brandy, a mother of four, simple and kind. my mind is racing, i just want to pick her brain. how did you do this? what do you think of that? i try not to overwhelm her for i would like a friendship with the woman, it’s too early to show her i’m a little crazy. she perceives this and reminisces with me about her early motherhood.

“oh, i can remember when emma was that age, you’re so touched out right?”

“oh my gosh, yes . how did you wean her?”

“ummm, well she eventually weaned herself when kyle was born.”

i’m thinking, how exactly- what did you do exactly and how did you make it until then? she can’t really recall but throws out a few suggestions. i need a fool proof plan, something concrete that i can do and is guaranteed to work. i gather the gold nuggets of wisdom in my mind and get ready to leave when brandy says the wisest thing yet, “you’ll find your way patience.”

damn. one of those mothers…it was like asking my gram who was married to my pop for 65 years for marriage advice. “well, you love each other and don’t go to bed angry and follow the lord.” the kind of advice that is non-advice leaving you to find your own way. it feels utterly tortuous in the mean time. the nice thing you realize along the way is that no one has the answers but you aren’t alone. many have gone before you and helped to pave the way. and that’s all we really need in the end, a listening ear and encouragement that we have in us the very thing we are seeking. the ability to be the mothers our children need, i have been called, called to josiah and jack and they to me.

so this week someone asked me a mothering question and without even thinking i said,

“oh that ‘s hard, i remember when josiah was that age.” i gave similar suggestions and thought in my head, “she’ll find her way.” and she will. wow, i’ve just become one of those mothers…

the clock on the microwave says 2:03am, i must go to sleep i think. i stayed up until the wee hours for there i find quiet and peace. they are my best friends whom i rarely get to visit.

i must finish this last party favor. oh, this seemed like a good idea on tuesday but now it is thursday and i have about 5 more of these mother fuckers to do. i always let my creativity run away with me. in the end i will be so glad, the favors are so personal and sweet, each one is better than the last and besides, i LOVE this stuff.

i crawl into bed next to jack and pray i can sleep by myself for a few hours. 8:30 comes quickly and both boys are greeting their toys, full of energy, ready for chocolate chip pancakes and eggs. i am exhausted but another day has begun and my tired mother ass will just have to get in gear.

after 6 hours of more favors, phone calls, naps and ignoring my children, i announce we are going to the park. no need for a/c today, it was a little warm but the breeze coming through my little green house soothes my tiredness and inspires me to suggest an adventure. we find some clean clothes that are piled up on the couch waiting to be folded, thank god there is underwear is all i can think.

we pile in the car and start our adventure. i try to talk josiah into going to a different park since i quickly realize i have no money to pay the toll to the place he wants to go. “but mom, we have to see the animals.” he’s right, i know, so i turn around the car and go the 10 miles to get around the toll. we get out of the car and run towards the barn to visit our animal friends.

we head down the hill to visit the cows, horses and head toward the bear exhibit. it’s so hot, it’s hotter than at our house. jack is lagging behind. josiah and i call and wait, call and wait…”jackie- boy! come on buddy!”…the toddler in him is frustrated by the adult in me. i’ve seen that bush a million times but the world is still new to jack. i can see he just wants to feel the dirt, look at the butterflies and play in that puddle, we are just going too fast. i just want to get to the bear and at this rate we’ll be here until sundown. i scoop jack up and head towards the bottom of the hill, we round the corner to see a running brook on the path. i’m sure jackie’s place in heaven will include running water- rocks, dirt, water- this is jack’s fantasy. in a matter of seconds he is wet and having a glorious time. i let him play for a few minutes but inside i’m just too tired for this today.

i can feel the perspiration mustache forming over my upper lip, my t-shirt is sticking to me and we are still far from that damn bear. josiah is whizzing around me like a plane, begging me to play, jack is soaked and covered in dirt. i put jack on my back in hopes he won’t protest too much, he loves piggie back rides. of course he doesn’t hold on so i’m bending forward to keep him on. i can feel the dirt from his shoes all over my back mixing with my sweat but the bear habitat is in sight so i tell myself to endure. we get to bear and well, there is no bear. he is probably resting somewhere under a big tree enjoying some berries he found, oh i wish i was that bear, i love berries.

“awww man, no bear guys….sorry.”

“he probably went home mom…it’s okay, let’s go.”

we start heading up the hill. i say what we are all thinking. “what were we thinking?” josiah repeats me. “i know” i say in my best monica (from friends) voice. we head back up the hill that looks like freakin’ everest, jack on my back, josiah behind me.

“mom, i don’t know how much more i can take.”

“i know buddy, we can do it. you wanna tell stories to pass the time until we get to the top?”

“nah.”

oh thank god, i just don’t think i have a story in me. we get to the top.

“we did it mom, woohoo!”

“shoowph, i know, right?”

jack is walking behind us, the blue truck in sight. thank you jesus…we turn around jack is sitting in the middle of the path refusing to move. josiah takes over parenting duties, “you can do it jackie-boy, come on.” i throw in a “we believe in you” and he finally gets up and starts toward us. we climb back in the blue truck and head towards the messy haven, our home.

josiah badgers me about dinner the entire way home, jack cries because the seat belt isn’t just so.

i was hoping to be inspired by some mix of a nature and mothering experience, but i am just glad to be home wishing i was by myself, not melting and clean. i don’t even care that the house is totally trashed.

“are you grouchy mom?”

“yes. i just want to do my computer by myself.”

“oh, okay. but mom, i need a drink.”

jack is playing underneath the desk, trying to wiggle his way between my hands and the keyboard, he wants to nurse…

i’m sure when i’m old and gray, the memories of real mothering will be foggy. only recalling the sweetness of the mundane, the everyday, even the worst days at the park become treasured.

but today, i wonder where peace and quiet could be right now. i hope to meet with them soon, maybe tonight in the wee hours…

heard some really sad news this week about another internet friend and her little boy whose name happens to be jackson (and just a few months younger than my jack). turns out jackson has a very rare genetic disease, the prognosis is very bad. one to two years…

i felt so restless, unable to even process. my mind constantly on this dear mom and her sweet baby, praying, grasping for some type of hope, just feeling so much grief. it seems like lately everywhere i turn someone is going through a very hard time, this however, is unimaginable. i realized the only way for me to process has been through my art- writing, painting, singing. normally, verbal process would do for me, as long as i had a chance to talk to someone- it could somehow soothe my angst but lately my art has been that outlet. i’ve never really thought of myself as an artist, i’m crafty- good with my hands but not really artsy. it has made really think about all the things i’ve always wanted to do- stain glass, mosaicing…i really need to pursue these things. life is too short to put off the things that will enrich it.

i love that VH1 show the best week ever…it feeds my pop culture hunger and is mindless, like reading an US weekly (my guilty pleasure while sitting at the train table at B&N) from time to time.

anyway…jorge and i had a night at a hotel that i got for him forever ago. it’s a good thing because we are really broke right now so it was appreciated all the more. my sister came down to watch the boys for us. i was really unsure whether jack could make it the whole night so we left it up in the air. we went out for dinner, had drinks with friends, saw a movie, had an amazing night at the hotel (and all that that implies, wink,wink) and came home early the next morning to jackie sleeping peacefully. he was fine, this is very good information for future overnight get-a-ways.

my sister, bil and zinny (the dog) wanted to go to the river so zinny could swim so we all decided to go. the weather couldn’t have been more perfect. the good lord knew we could not take one more day of crappy, humid, summer weather and gave us a taste of fall. i’m already breaking out the dutch oven to whip up a yummy soup. mmm…i can hardly wait.

we climbed out on the smooth rocks almost to the middle of the river and played in the current. i stood on the rock and felt the breeze that only the river knows. i closed my eyes and received the warmth of the sun on my face. it felt like a blessing, like a holy place, the best church.

my boy’s clothes came off on article at a time until pure bliss. they swam, climbed, and threw, all of their senses attended to. this is everything childhood should be.

tears were shed when we left, pleads for five more minutes, but all was quickly forgotten when we got to fuddruckers for lunch. big juicy burgers, thick creamy milkshakes, and great conversation. we headed home and collapsed on the enormous bed in our bedroom- all six of us on 2 queen sized beds. we fell asleep to a distant hum of a neighbor mowing his lawn. too lazy to cut our own, too happy for manual labor today, too busy having the best weekend ever…

my sister (jen) and i have been discussing theology a lot lately. i think i have a passion for opening people’s eyes to the theology in kids and parenting. i really believe our children have loads to teach us about our faith, about who god is, even about ourselves. not in the “all children are gurus, we must worship them ” sort of way, but in a mutual respect manner.

all that to say, i think it goes much deeper than all that. after working on a zine i am writing with jen all day yesterday, i started thinking. it’s in birth, it’s in the oppressed, it’s in the bum that sits on the curb, it’s my old lady neighbor, it’s the cashier at the supermarket, it’s in the powerless.

we go to church thinking or hoping it’s there, we go to the bible and can’t quite always understand, we try to be good hoping it will be revealed by our behavior, we search and search and search…when it’s everywhere around us if we could only wake up. like the movie, i feel wide awake. my sister always says, “the gospel comes from underneath”. i think i’ve always known this in my heart but it feels like some big epiphany today for some reason. it places value on such different things, more to think about…

i have to tell you we have always been a pbs kids family (with the occasional nick jr. or noggin show). my kids have watched hours and hours of public, commercial-free television. i like some of the shows on other channels but i just can’t stand the commercialism, it makes my stomach turn. i really want my boys to have grateful hearts. let’s face it, the gimme monster can surface in almost anyone after enough exposure. jorge still insists that i watch the latest infomercial with him. “but babe, look what it can do!” ay-yai-yai…

so we heard this week that there is a rescue hero show. i set the tivo and prayed curses over the advertising that it would be powerless over my sweet child. surprisingly, josiah was only mildly interested in the “chocolate maker for $19.95” (which is really just a double boiler) but he suggested this might be a good thing to make for our friends. the rescue show ends and the tivo records the beginning of the next show. the music starts, the colors bright, josiah’s eyes are like saucers. …transformers…ugh…he watches 30 seconds of the opening song, he is totally hooked. it’s all he can talk about.

“what IS that mama?”

“it’s like a lego robot mom.”

“it’s so cool.”

my mother heart drops just a notch. i know this has been coming for awhile. i guess i was hoping it could be george shrinks forever. george is smart, resourceful, adventurous and kind, but not too perfect. i like george… and damn, that zooper car is just wicked awesome.

i have been putting off video games, action heros, pretty much anything violent. it’s not that i intend to shelter my kid from all violence but there is just SO much needless violence in our world today. if a had a kid that craved violence i’m sure i’d be trying to work some justice angle or outlet but josiah just isn’t that kid. this is my sensitive, tender soul little boy. this is probably the reason why we have gone so long without ninga turtles and power rangers. this is quite a feat for a almost 4 1/2 year old.

i don’t mean to be dramatic but it just feels like it is everything that is wrong with the world. the good guys, bad guys, a lack of understanding and acceptance, impulsive action rather than careful thought, the idea that fighting is the only way to solve our problems, that power is for force and not to be shared, that strength is merely physical…and this isn’t just cartoons, it’s the evening news.

is there really that much evil in the world that needs to be conquered by violence? isn’t there much more hurt and pain?

i have no idea how to navigate this part of my parenting. i know complete shelter is never the way to go. this is unfamiliar territory for me. i just pray my boys can see people and the world clearly, and i pray that george shrinks reigns just a little longer.

we just got back from the hospital. josiah stuck a very small lego piece up his right nostril. while this was quite an ordeal, i kept thinking it was kinda funny. we tried desperately to get it out ourselves with the tweezers but the damn thing just kept going higher and higher.

josiah was getting more upset by the second, we finally told him we had to see a doctor and that sent him over the edge. he said he didn’t want to go and just leave the lego there. he kept suggesting other ways to get the lego out, “maybe some water?”. he resisted for almost an hour but the minute he got in the car he seemed totally resigned. we dropped jack off at a friend’s house and made our way to st. mary’s hospital. i told josiah maybe he needed a rescue hero to get the lego out, jorge said his name would be nosy ned. the hospital was very nice and the staff efficient but the lack of respect for josiah was driving me crazy.

“put him up on the table here”

me- “excuse me, what is your name?”

“umm…stephanie”

me- “hi stephanie, this is josiah. josiah, this is stephanie and she is going to help us with your nose problem.”

the whole feel in the room instantly changes. stephanie explains everything and treats josiah like a person. we continue to do this with the next 2 nurses and doctor. he was pretty relaxed until it was time to actually get the lego out. it took 4 of us to hold him down. wow, he is strong. i just kept thinking how i am i gonna help him process this? when he was done he heaved a cry of relief and then threw his arms around me and cried hard. i asked him if he was scared and he just shook his head and cried. i told him i could not believe how strong he was. i was proud he fought so hard, i knew it made it harder but he did what felt right to him and fought with all his little heart. this child is SO compliant on a day to day basis and it made me feel so good to know he has this in him. we just kept telling him how brave and strong he was and by the time we left we were cracking jokes.

“hey josiah, wanna go home and play legos, we can put one in our nose.”

he laughs really hard, “no way jose” he replies. jorge, josiah and i play this game the entire way home. 

man, i totally thought the first hospital visit would be a broken arm or something…i told josiah he has a story to tell now. “i was brave mama.”, he said. “you were buddy, you really were.”

so like in the 8th grade, i was in a very cheesy church play where i had to sing this very emotional ballad,

“i’m accepted, i’m accepted by the one who matters most.”

the character in the play was struggling with insecurity among her peers (obviously from the song)

my dear friend george (god rest his soul) thought it was hysterical and continuously sang (at the top of his lungs) to me, “i’m rejected, i’m rejected…”

i went to take my car in to get inspected. mind you, the inspection is 7 MONTHS past due and my poor 2003 xterra got rejected. they put a big hot pink rejected sticker in my window. the worst part is it’s my fault from a small fender bender over a year ago. one teeny, tiny little light in the front left side is cracked and big blue gets the ole’ rejecto sticker. the work will cost us $500. this is money we do not have…fuck the state of virginia!

so in honor  of george boone, i sang “i’m rejected” the entire way home in a weak attempt to cheer myself up. george could always make me smile. i know george, jesus and jim morrison (his favorite) were singing with me in heaven.

so while helping a three year old in the bathroom today she busts out with, “you know, my mom has hair on her bottom.” (very matter of factly)

while biting my lower lip as not to laugh i say, “yeah, i guess some mom’s have hairy bottoms.”

she goes on, “but my dad, his hair is falling out on the top of his head.”

“yep, that happens too. i think it’s kinda handsome.”

“me too.” she replies.

 

ohhh…i needed this commentary. the brutal honesty of a three year old, there’s nothing like it. she hopped off the step after washing her hands with her dress bunched up in the back of her little white panty hose. i quickly fixed her dress as she walked out of the bathroom.

 

these are my people. this is my call. this is my hope.

 

the hope…where is the hope in hairy bottoms you ask ? … I mean kids are the same everywhere, even sick kids. some kid in a hospital room somewhere still thinks farts are funny. some other kid is telling the nurse embarrassing information about his parents while she checks his blood pressure. some kid has reached a new level of super mario crash brothers due to hours of sitting in a bed instead of on the floor of the living room. sam is still sam…and this gives me hope. while this will dramatically affect his life and shape the person he is, there are still things about childhood that will always be the same.

 

jesus, may everyone that meets sam remember this. may they honor his childhood, embrace five year old humor, be gentle with his heart and respect his little soul. 

  

 

i woke up early yesterday and started my daily routine of surfing the blogs. i went to a favorite blog expecting to read the usual and felt a huge lump in my throat grow as i read. rudy’s son sam had an unexplained fever for a week, turns out it’s leukemia. sam is five years old. *big sigh*

i’ve never even met this family, but i am so, so sad. i call my sister who is a friend of rudy’s- she starts to cry. we have to do something, anything, what can we do…this is my family culture. jen immediately posts on her very big blog and sets up a paypal acct. for this family. they run a school for inner city kids in l.a., i’m guessing they could really use the cash.

 

josiah wakes up and asks what’s going on…

 

” i have a friend who’s name is sam and he’s really sick in the hospital.”

“is he a big boy like jared (josiah’s pre-teen cousin)?”

“no buddy, he’s a little boy like you.”

“like me mama?”

“yeah, he has to have a lot of shots, it’s a really hard time.”

“oh mama, it’s gonna be a long week.”

“yeah, i think so, i feel sad ya know?”

“he’s not by himself mama, jesus is with him.”

“that’s true.”

“talk it mama, talk it right now mama, to jesus.”

“you wanna ask jesus to help sam?”

“yeah mama,  you say it okay?”

 

so we prayed. i asked josiah if he thought there was anything we could do for sam. he suggested legos so we went to target to put a box together. we walked the aisles and josiah was deep in thought about what would be good for sam while kinda struggling over the fact that there would be nothing for him on this target trip. all i could think about was how everything has changed for rudy, kafi and sam. they can’t go back, they didn’t choose this, it just happened. yesterday their little boy just had a fever and today sam could be battling for his little life.

 

i can’t really get out of this funk, i feel so bad. everything else seems so small. it feels wrong to go on with regular life when someone else is watching his little boy have a spinal tap, bone marrow biopsy and a pic line put in. i just can’t imagine… and i was just complaining about having to play kitty-cat for the last four years. all is well in my world, my kid doesn’t have cancer.

 

before i became a teacher i had aspirations of becoming a child life specialist (kinda a play therapist for hospital kids) but there were very few programs at the time. all the universities were too far away so i opted to go local and become a teacher. i can not imagine being a cls now, especially after having kids. when i interned in high school most of the cls’s were young professionals- without families yet. the thing is, i know i could have done it and done it well. part of me still wonders if this isn’t something in my future. in times like this i am drawn towards that work. i know what to do but it just feels so much more personal when it’s someone you know, even if you only know them on the internet. not to mention the fact that you have your own four year old sitting across from you at the dinner table every night. sweet, sweet sam…

 

so today we will make cards, and prepare a box. in the end it’s a selfish good deed- our intense need to do something to ease our own sadness and pain while we pass down the family culture of comfort and care during hard times. sam is still sick in his bed and rudy will carry a burden no father should have to carry. but like josiah said, “he’s not by himself mama, jesus is with him.”

please be with them jesus, please come.

*spoiler to lotr- caution if you haven’t seen return of the king

so i admit we finally caught up with the rest of the world and watched 8 hours of the lotr trilogy yesterday. this required LOTS of ignoring our children, consuming an ungodly amount of potato chips and it resulted in much contemplation about power. in honor of dave lemen (my bil) we watched the extended versions, of course.

so i thought aragon was dreamy, sam was pure gold and frodo- ughh… i was disappointed. i so wanted him to make the choice to let go of the ring, not fight gollum and accidentally fall off the ledge. i expected the inner struggle but i was hoping with sam’s encouragement he could have done it on his own. to me this would have been the ultimate ending. even a pure soul like frodo, facing the pressure of incredible power just couldn’t let go in the end. i know it signifies just how powerful the ring was, how heavy the burden was and how human we all are but i so want to believe that if we share both power and the burden we can overcome anything, even the worst evil. they did need each other, frodo couldn’t have done it alone but in the moment he was alone- it was his decision. could it be that deep in my heart i relate most to frodo? i like to think i would have been brave and offered to take the ring, but then in the midst of adversity i’d be weeping and offer the ring to anyone who would take it. even worse, i don’t know that i would be able to resist the ring’s power. and while i sometimes crave power, when i have it i am often unsure what to do with it or i know exactly what to do but am afraid to use it. unless of course, i think everyone around me will be pleased with how i use it, but who really has the power then?

the whole idea just feels wrong. the word power itself holds a negative connotation for me- not sure why…i think it touches a nerve with me because so much of my life is spent with children. i see people everyday abuse their power with children. we are bigger, stronger and we think smarter than the youngest people in this world. our job is to guide and empower children but so often we try to control and break the spirits of kids that exhibit certain strengths that we deem unacceptable. the power of persuasion, persistence, and the fire of minds that require more than a simple explanation, the need to explore and experience alone- all the things that make us crazy as parents. we give the stare, loud exasperated sighs, maybe even yell or hit- we show our power. i’ve done it, sometimes i just want them to comply. guiding and empowering requires too much energy from my tired mother mind and body. but then there is sam and frodo, while i’m sure my kids won’t be saving all of mankind but

will josiah need to defend the little kid on the playground ?

will jack need to challenge or question a teacher?

will my boys someday feel passion for causes that help change our world?

god i hope so, and i pray there many aragons, gandolphs, and sams to lend their power, to believe in them, to carry them, to love them. maybe in the end frodo was the only one that could have even carried the ring to the mountain. maybe the smaller, weaker and simple hearts are the ones that carry the strength, courage, and power in the end…

my brother in law made me a wicked mojito today.

it could possibly be the best beverage on the planet!

“we don’t stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.”

i’m still on california time, and very wired due to my 4th diet coke today. i can’t even believe i am admitting to even drinking diet coke, much less four in one day. this is after years of soapboxing about the dangers of artificial sweeteners and giving up caffeine and sodas for several years.

the only possible explanation is being on an airplane with 2 small children for 6 hours and traveling a total of 12 hours today. i am physically exhausted but happy in my heart. it was a good trip on so many levels. i would have to say a little healing too.

after obsessing over an awful haircut on tuesday and staying up all night getting ready to leave, i was exhausted by wednesday morning. i busted my ass so we could go to a birthday party on wednesday morning at my friend jenna’s house. i was so glad i went, jenna has a way of making everyone feel so welcomed. after listening to my hair dilemma, she offered to fix it for me (she’s a stylist)- right during her daughter’s third birthday party. it was like jesus himself was cutting my hair. i was so overwhelmed by her kindness. i finally felt ready to leave.

after a night at a hotel in norfolk which josiah thought was “beautiful”, we were off to the airport. i was hoping we could snag a seat for jack in a not-so-full flight but no such luck. after 45 minutes of a 5 hour flight, i had gone through my entire surprise bag of tricks. i remembered i had one of those post-it flag packs. the kind you use to mark papers or pages in catalogs. the beauty of the little flags is that when you pull one out another pops up. this is a toddler’s dream activity. i figured there are only 20 in the pack so this activity would be over real quick. i swear it was like jesus feeding the 5000, the flags just kept popping up. jack was occupied for another half hour, and much to the relief of the man sitting in front of us.

at one point in the last hour of the flight, jorge and i just started tickling both of them like crazy. when they started getting really loud i suggested maybe we should stop when jorge said, “babe, there are worse things in the world than hearing kids laugh.” i agreed and kept tickling. both of jorge’s sisters greeted us at the airport with smiles bigger than i have ever seen. after much family drama (with jorge’s mom) the last few years, we desperately needed a time of bonding and i could just tell it was going to be a good trip.

the days were spent lounging, eating, and of course legoland. it has to be the only theme park i have ever been to that was designed for children under the age of five. we could have spent a year there, even the over priced food was good- somewhat healthy i should add.

i had no real agenda other than hanging out with jorge’s family. it felt like family, so many times before i have felt so out of place, not really accepted. it was emotionally exhausting for me and i usually always ended up feeling pissy and controlled. jorge and i are in a whole different place now, we are so bonded, we are our own family. letting go of resentment sets a heart free…somehow i could let go- not analyze every conversation, i just enjoyed their company. i felt proud for them to experience my kids and they enjoyed them. josiah has such a strong sense of family and immediately took to the fact that he had cousins, tia’s and tio’s. the girls even watched our kids so j and i could sleep all day one day. they were so nurturing and warm, i felt taken care of and loved.

jack wanted nothing to do with lauren (his cousin who is 1 that we met for the first time), i think he is used to being the youngest. she was great, she was unfazed by his dismissing behavior and kept playing while occasionally trying to connect. he finally recognized her presence by the end of the trip. that jackie-boy…

jorge had his panties all in a wad over Fahrenheit 9/11. he went with our 13 year old nephew sean. the movie was sean’s pick- i was seriously impressed by his choice. i still have yet to see it but by judging jorge’s reaction, i’d have to guess there was plenty in the movie that was causing him to question himself and his beloved president. i was just thrilled to be in the company of a house full of democrats- j was so outnumbered, he didn’t know what to do. 😉

so now we are back, broke as a joke and happy to be in our own beds. i need to hibernate in my cave (i.e. purple bedroom) for a few days and then this will complete our great vacation. these are happy days…

so yesterday in the middle of cleaning a very messy house I broke out in congo-line beat-

“we’re go-in on va-ca-tion, we’re go-in on va-ca-tion!”

josiah is loving this and says we have to get the drums, maracas and tambourine out. so jackie-boy, josiah and i had a celebratory pre-vacation parade, it was very fun. i was having so much fun when josiah said to me, “mom, i think that’s enough.”

we leave for california and are bound for legoland, jorge’s family and perfect weather. say a prayer it’s a good vacation. after 3 vacations i have finally figured out that they aren’t for resting and relaxing. and while i am philosophically against drugging children for plane rides, i have entertained the thought for jack as i have absolutely NO idea how he will sit on our laps for a 4 hour flight. he is so active!

off to keep cleaning and in honor of ginny hammond, go through my papers!

i have recently become totally obsessed with my body. not in a Mary Kate Olsen sort of way but you can imagine. this is the girl who never wears make-up, my hair continually in a pony tail and throws on the t-shirt laying on the floor along with my favorite pair of faded blue jeans. flip-flops are not only a girl’s best friend, they are a way of life.

jorge gets obsessed with getting fit two times a year, it usually lasts around 2 months and then a lapse until the next time. i figure it’s better to keep trying even if it doesn’t always last than doing nothing at all. it’s kinda like when you go to camp or a retreat when you are in jr. high and it’s super emotional (imagine me mockingly singing a chorus of- “we are standing for jesus”), you have changed your life forever, you are fired up, into it…. and then like a month later it’s back to the jr. high drama. but you really meant it man, you felt it, you wanna change…each time i did take a little something and over time it added up for me so I guess all the actions didn’t matter as much as my heart wanting it. my heart kept me going back.

But my spiritual life and my physical well being are two totally different things, well sort of. i mean my commitment to ice cream and laying on the couch watching movies has been very spiritual at certain points in my life. 🙂 i’m tryin’ to say that reflecting and pondering my spiritual journey are deeply ingrained in me, treadmills and the weight bench are not. poor body image, however, is definitely in the top ten of my daily thoughts. i have always been tall and somewhat thin, worked out sporadically like jorge, but have never had a passion for it.

we started working out in january together, my original goal was to become a milf, something my husband told me i already was but you know with the poor body image and everything, yada, yada, yada. i found myself not really enjoying it in the beginning but not hating it either. jorge’s extra weight was flying off, and i was still elipiticalling my ass off – not literally. not much physical change in the first few weeks, this was unusual for me. in the past i would work out for like 2 seconds and my body would tighten right up. i blame it ( i mean celebrate) on birthing my 2 amazing kids. for some strange reason i kept going, six months later i’m 20 lbs. lighter and more than on my way to a six pack. fitter than ever, but i busted my ass to get here- 5-6 days a week, cardio, weights, the whole enchilada.

i find myself looking into tanning salons, buying new clothes, shaving my legs more, buying those silly teeth whitening kits, critiquing celebrities and reading fitness magazines. this disturbs me a little- don’t get me wrong, i needed to step it up a notch (or 2 or 3) in taking care of my body. what bugs me is how i still have that nagging body image issue, i’m still so critical. i’m very proud of my hard work this time but i still constantly play the comparison game in my head. i have no idea what it will take for me to think i am the shit. it feels so shallow and silly. i don’t really know how to solve this problem but it feels good to get it out of my head and on paper. okay, now I really sound like a jr. high girl…maybe I just need to go to a summer camp (or maybe like 10) for body acceptance…

ya know there are just some times when you realize you have been living in a bubble. the first time for me was when i left my christian private school and went to college- it wasn’t good or bad for me, just different and it wouldn’t be until later in my life that i even cared. there have been several more experiences since then that have stretched my thinking and have helped to shape a new way of viewing my life and others. The thing is, these experiences have always seemed to go from conservative to more liberal in nature, not the other way around. It seems in all my recent enlightenment I have created my own crunchy bubble. Oh, i love my bubble, dude, I LOVE IT! i love how free i feel- it’s a big bubble you know. i’ve been hibernating for so long i forgot what the world is like outside my bubble.

i work at a united methodist church in an affluent area of conservative richmond, this is life outside my postmodern, attachment parenting, liberal-loving bubble. i attended a party for a parent of one of the kids in my program last night. in a casual girl conversation about how fancy birth control has become i stated how i still don’t have a period because i’m nursing my son. (he’s 18 months) i’m thinking, “how fantastic! – kinda proud of my body has gone this long and that i don’t have to deal with pms.” it never crossed my mind that my extended nursing would be so controversial. in my world, 18 months is nothing…it literally stopped all conversation dead in it’s tracks- very awkward silence. now part of me kind of enjoyed being so shocking (although i was equally as shocked at the reaction), but it really was getting kind of weird so i was a little relieved when the conversation went on to something else. later on in the evening someone cracked a joke that i might be nursing my second grader. i was thrilled for the sarcasm and said, “na, i think i’ll wean him when he goes to college.” we laughed, and i felt much better.

the funny thing is…i really like these people. i really do, we are so opposite and i still like them. i’m sure you have no idea how good this really is. i could not have left my bubble just two years ago and felt this way. i would have been all pissy and judgemental after a night like that, wondering why i even went to the party in the first place- then I would contemplate whether or not i should keep working in a place that holds such different values than my own. and the drama in my head would continue…i sort of crave it from time to time. this time i felt so peaceful. these women have befriended me, i can tell they really like me but aren’t quite sure what to do with me. i feel so secure in my parenting decisions, i have no need to defend them or even explain…they just are what they are. and my heart is drawn to these parents and their kids. i want to minister to them, to encourage them, to be part of their spiritual journeys. it’s just funny that a girl like me is in a place like that. while i will be happily skipping back to my bubble (seems i traded one for another), i’m finding that maybe just maybe i can take trips outside and discover there is beauty in that very strange world.

I was just reading a discussion (from an old community I used to visit) about a woman who recently gave birth. This woman had been very vocal about her opinions regarding natural birth and the medical community. Sadly, her homebirth turned into a hospital transfer and then a c-section. Ughh…I’ve seen it more times than I’d like to count. Why is it that these particular women always have these difficult births? The people that it matters most to. In my younger years I was one of those soapbox birthers. While my dogma wasn’t nearly as caustic, I thought many of the same things she had the guts to actually say. Then I had Jack- which changed everything. I was so humbled, it was so hard. I had no idea what other women had possibly gone through, before I just thought I was stronger, better prepared, more informed. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Birth is unpredictable to it’s very core. Whenever we carry agendas into birth we run the risk of being blinded to the lesson birth might have for us. The only thing worse is being robbed of the lesson by someone else. Sometimes it’s just too much, too much pain, too much disappointment, too much sadness to receive the lesson in the moment. Time and reflection are powerful healers.

I realized how you birth matters, not in the natural, c-section way but in the heart, mind, body way. It isn’t about what interventions you did or didn’t have, it’s about how you feel about your birth experience. It’s about getting to make the choices you want, it’s about feeling supported and loved no matter what you choose and how you choose to do it. Ignorance might be bliss but it is also a choice. I know lots of women who were very happy with that particular choice. While it isn’t one that I feel is always the most fulfilling, some women aren’t looking to be fulfilled or stretched.

I guess it gets sticky when we aren’t able to own our choices due to our care giver or a lack of advocacy on our behalf, or even just because of the unpredictability of the birth itself. I’m not sure I have any answers to solve these problems because so many of them lie in the system and our society, but I do know this, birth is major. No matter what choice we make, it affects us, sometimes a hell of a lot deeper than we care to go…but we must try…even if it’s hard.

to be continued…

inspector gadget (josiah) having a conversation with a rescue hero (billy blazes)

on one of our many toy cell phones (this is due to jorge’s cell phone addiction)

apparently inspector gadget and billy blazes are allies and good friends…

Oh boy it’s been so long since i had a journal. In the past I have just been incapable of not becoming obsessed. I no longer have enough time but would love to have a place to put my thoughts about my boys, my work, my spiritual journey, my friendship with jorge- my intensity needs an outlet and my writing needs work. We’ll try this out…

Well, I have been attending lots of blessing ways lately. Everytime I turn around someone is pregnant. I totally dig the blessing way thing. It makes me wish we had them at other times in our lives besides giving birth. I mean, who couldn’t use a blessing right? There are so many other times when we as women need to gather around other women and bestow blessings of empowerment, hope and truth. Especially the truths that you can’t see in yourself or need spoken by someone else. To know other people love you and believe in you. I long for an opportunity to create this experience outside the traditional blessing way- i can think of two women right now that could really use the encouragement. how can i do this? maybe a call to celebrate these particular women? – ideas- a backyard gathering on a warm summer night

yummy food

glasses of wine

foot washing- some sort of massage- maybe pedicures?

some sort of art- watercolors?

I think I’ll do this- start something new~

My little group of friends totally rocks at giving a spoken blessing- I have to say I never imagined I would find this in Richmond, Virginia but they are here. and for all their corkiness and craziness they are a dear bunch of women. I am grateful for their friendship and kindness (even if it includes occasional drama- something I am getting good at avoiding).

okay- enough for today. I still have a pickle party to finish getting ready for the kids tonight(for work). They are making pickle people with big Kosher dill pickles and various art supplies.

A pickle spitting contest

Fishing pickles out a bin filled with water using only their feet

Various relays involving pickles

it should be really fun!

more later…

pache

Stream of consciousness on Jackie-boy

Jack has this very Neo-esque way about him. Like he holds this inner wisdom that he shares on very rare and special occasions. It makes a mother wonder what he is thinking constantly. His eyes are fearless and his heart explodes with the need for adventure. He is rarely bothered but has no problem expressing his discontent should the need arise. His smile can melt you like a super power, it’s so strong you instantly forget why you were mad at whatever mischief he seemed to have gotten into. His hug is genuine and kind. My arms wrap around his slender frame while his body rests on my chest. He gives all of himself over for me to hold, total surrender and peace. I envy the person he is. He is so much of what I want to be and am not. He is still a little bit of a mystery and I like it that way. May my little explorer have lots adventures today filled with wonder and delight, may his soul be filled with treasures of joy and passion for what matters most.

Ode to Jackie-boy

big feet

dog lover

friend to josiah

mystic

our monkey boy

family mess maker

kind eyes

enjoys barbies

the best snuggler