LoveDrunk

On Daughters: A Manifesto

2010-07-18T16:19:00.000-07:00

Oh, my girls...

Your fate is not to be as a lonely princess, waiting in frozen youth and painted beauty for final, heroic rescue by some physically strong but one-dimensional man.

You are strong and brave.

Since the day you were born.

Don't waste your life stalking around the dark and crumbling ruins of girlhood, swathed in a pile of mouldering lace and dreams.

Dream for yourself.

Keep your heart your own and free.

Oh, my girls...

Don't hide behind the words our society has for brave women: bitch, hussy, tramp, whore, unrefined, headstrong, impetuous, etc. This is always the lazy way out.

And you are not lazy.

Don't let Disney and the culture of cheap romance at any price convince you that you need a man, a certain kind of relationship, cartoonish body parts, or formaldehyde beauty in order to truly experience a life alive and heroic and real.

You were born to do heroic things and great beauty is often hidden inside great effort.

You are to be someone's rescuer, not the rescued.

You are not to wait.

Oh, my girls...

The Christian church in every manifestation will tell you that without a man you must never speak strongly, fiercely or openly about anything in your head or heart. Not without expressed permission and never in certain environments.

But you are never to ask permission for who you were created to be.

You must never allow your voice to be silenced.

Let those who choose the status quo tremble.

Go ahead and let them call you names.

Oh, my girls...

If you are single you will be asked why. If there are no children or no children of your own blood you will be asked why.

If you have friendships that last and last, through love and loss and change and years, you will be asked how this can be.

If you change, dismantle, challenge, question or rebuild anything in this world, you will be asked who the man is (father, husband, brother, boyfriend, leader, boss, mentor) who helped or gave you permission.

You must not care. And you must never settle for this small an inheritance.

Oh, my girls...

I want the same things for you I would want for sons: truthful words, brave hearts, kind hands and eyes, a will to be reckoned with, a mind that is sharp and well-used, a life that seeks to right wrongs and create lasting peace.

If you were my sons I would implore you to overcome the current stereotypes of violence and isolation, of a life spent largely internally alone and for your own sake, your own survival.

But you are my daughters, my little women.

I challenge you to never let your mother souls stagnate within your own house, your own children, your own dreams, your own creations.

I challenge you to never accept the second-best you are offered within our culture's archaic laws of size, shape, role, and silence.

Your Mama is completely confident of this:

You are the ones the world has been waiting for.

Graces, #35

2010-06-30T10:28:00.000-07:00

Summer is finally here. It's still cool, most days, but after a long spring that felt more like early March, we are not about to complain. And honestly, I really like 75 degree days that end in cool, wind-washed nights. It's one of the reasons I live in the Pacific Northwest. If I wanted 4 months of sticky nights and blistered mornings I'd move somewhere else. Everyone that complains about our weather should, too. (ahem)

Auntie Sharon has beaten cancer. Almost. There are no words to tell our thankfulness. There have been too many stories and people in our lives the past 9 years that have not received this joyful news. Too many. We are so grateful and so happy and along the way have had some very interesting conversations with Penelope about death and dying. Two things I've learned as a result: when you absolutely believe that the divine presence we refer to as God is completely trustworthy, completely loving and ultimately and fiercely kind (as Penelope does!), you don't fear death or whatever comes next; and that I have yet to resolve my own theology or lack thereof around death and dying. But then, I am still recovering from childhood nightmares featuring in full-effect a terrifying god-figure that was male in the worst possible way and hell-bent (literally) on the destruction of everything that wasn't to his liking or current whim.

For the record, I am completely comfortable with never resolving my thoughts or feelings on this point. For me, it's enough to believe that if we are created in love and told quite pointedly in scripture that love is the whole point, then whatever happens next is love and lovely. This will sound ridiculously foofy to many of you. Love is pretty fierce, though.

Birdie sings. All day long, every song playing loudly or in the background. She sings East of the Sun West of the Moon, Favorite Things, Fly Me to the Moon, songs by The Weepies and Brandi Carlile, silly kids' songs, everything she hears. Her vocabulary is incredible. And Pea's wasn't shabby at this age either, but Birdie floors me. She counts (1, 2, 3, 7, 8, 9, 10, 13, 18), knows all her colors, and can sing songs from PBSkids shows she's seen only one or two times. She also plays harmonica and makes up songs with words. I suspect she is a tad competitive with sister...

Penelope is 44 inches and 44 lbs at only 4 years old. She's as tall as the 6 and 7 year olds everywhere we go and has very 6 and 7 year old emotions. I have decided that I'm not scared of them at all, even though I often don't know what the right thing to do or say is, thanks again to my childhood where emotions of any sort just weren't allowed (dad took up all the emotional air space, let's be honest). I really think that if she and I can figure out how to communicate now, and if I can learn to hear and understand her heart now, then all the years and ages people like to scare me with (12, 13, 17, 21) won't be that terrible at all.

This post, by a dear friend's sister, has brought tears to my eyes today. Even though she is farther ahead in parenting and marriage and all that that means than I, my heart feels the truth in it so deeply. Her words have also been challenging and comforting to Jeffrey and me in the ways we've chosen to parent and live and I am grateful.

Graces, #34

2010-06-06T16:41:00.000-07:00

There haven't been very many days like the picture above: blue open skies and sun, playgrounds, days when we could be out of doors all day long if we liked. Which is what we want most to do right now. It has been the darkest, wettest, coldest spring I can remember in years and years. Even for this part of the world. So first and foremost I am grateful for yesterday. There was sun. The flowers that have survived pushed open a little more. There were hours to spend doing nothing but running up and down our street, yelling for the freedom of no longer being shut inside complaining about having to put a sweatshirt on in June. Of course we woke today to rain streaming down our street in cold, grey-brown river. But that brings me to the next grace...

On even the darkest and coldest May and June days there is this light that happens toward evening in the downstairs rooms. It begins slowly, the room within darkening just so and the outside world beginning to softly glow, till you can blink and suddenly it appears that our whole house is floating atop and within a rainforest sea. White-barked birches with leaves like a hundred twinkling earrings and peely-papered eucalyptus, towering black fir and symmetry of maples. All bent and joined around us as the pearly sky, fluorescent jade grass and glistening street shimmer in twinkle of streetlights and houselights, car lights and bicycles. Absolutely breathtaking.

Today we celebrate the 3rd birthday of one of our friends, who happens to also be our neighbor. Adeleine takes great pleasure in getting dressed any time of the day, but especially loves to dress for a party. I can't wait to see what she picks out. Her current favorite look is a pair of Pea's panties worn over the top of a pair of leggings, a bright dress, necklaces, a winter hat, shiny or bright shoes. So different from me, this one.

Adeleine and I got to have a date day yesterday. She is absolutely delightful to be around and everyone who meets her says so. Is that bragging? Keep in mind that this is also the kid who frequently keeps me up all night. Still. So it's nice to have a public record that it hasn't been all bad.

Here we are, about to go have lunch, bunny crackers in hand.

Have lovely weeks, friends.

Fields and thoughts

2010-06-02T21:32:00.000-07:00

But also I say this: that light
is an invitation
to happiness
and that happiness

when it's done right
is a kind of holiness,
palpable and redemptive.

(from Poppies, by Mary Oliver)

You know the way a farmer lets a certain field go to sleep for a bit, gives it a rest, so that it can regather nourishment and life? That's what I've been doing. Inadvertently. Over here.

I was feeling pretty undecided, all winter, about continuing this blog. Wondering if I should still be writing publicly about my children now that they, especially Pea, are nearing ages where privacy and identity are more and more theirs to claim and own. I want them to only ever feel extraordinarily good about what I've written in regards to them. I have always used our real names. At the same time, I can only ever tell the truth. I love writing the daily graces (weekly, monthly is more like it) and I love the community of friends near and I far who read (and even, occasionally, comment.) I love being able to go back months later and remember certain feelings I had, certain ideas, certain days. The good, the bad, the difficult, the hilarious.

But I was weary of everything that felt tired and familiar and my heart was exhausted from a year of incredible growth tied to deep challenges. Oh, my heart. It continues to mend and then break and then mend again. This is probably my life's theme.

This field needed to be plowed under and ignored. In a healthy way. It needed to be covered with crows and traveling geese; drowned in late-fall rains and frozen in good, clean snow. It needed to sit in early spring's pale mornings and have no one tearing at it or trying to wrench meaning from it.

Sit. Just sit.

And now it is June. It has been an unusually dark spring outside, and an unusually peaceful one within. All this away time has been put to very good use. Not in projects or obvious accomplishments, but in time to think and time spent away from computers. Time spent reading book after book, both child and adult versions. Time spent with good company, good food, satisfying and challenging conversations. You know, my favorite parts of life.

I have decided to return. To plant again, if I can stretch the metaphor a bit. I will still use Twitter as a record of daily things and as the best way to communicate with me--it doesn't require my full attention and therefore is an easier fit with my current life. But I will be back here from time to time, hopefully weekly, to remember and photograph in a little more detail. I have decided to use another, not public yet, site as a place for deeper thoughts and essay work, anything deeply personal. If things are lighter here, it will only be in the interests of privacy and having my children see their names associated mostly with happiness and only occasionally a very bad day.

A quick 8 month update:

Pea and Birdie are excellent (as you can see). Tall, perceptive, strong. One is an excellent sleeper (still) and one is not (STILL).

We are beginning a family adventure in unschooling. This fits perfectly with Jeffrey's and my philosophy of life-long learning and having our children grow up as free and world-changing (hopefully) thinkers instead of sheep who know how to take tests.

I am continuing to plot and plan my future work in post-partum care.

I never EVER thought I would say this, but I am still loving being home with the girls. There is nowhere else I currently wish to be. Sometimes I am still surprised by this.

You should friend me on Goodreads. Everything I'm reading and everything the girls and I are reading is usually there or will soon be there.

I hope you are well, sleeping better than I am, and eating good food and reading good books. I hope you are thinking and changing and growing and learning and dreaming and fighting for and talking about what you believe in most. I hope we can do more of this together soon.

My sweet girl

2009-10-27T13:02:00.001-07:00

Adeleine calls her Daddoo!

Posted using ShareThis

Doesn't she have the sweetest voice?

L.O.V.E her.

More posts coming soon.

Have you figured out by now that I will ALWAYS be a bad blogger? I'm actually ok with it...

Graces, #33

2009-09-30T23:10:00.000-07:00

Sunshine. In our part of the world we spend the end of summer soaking up every last drop and ray knowing that once the rain comes it's here for a while.

Birthdays. Celebrating a DNA sister and a sister-by-choice, both in the same week.

Moonlit evening park time with the girls and friends. Watching their Uncle Jordan chase them all around the playground and play soccer with Pea. Turning just in time to see Birdie pushing her stroller at a fast trot. Catching up with her and realizing she was pushing while running on her knees (poor little knees.)

Celebrating another friend's ordination. She is fearless and opinionated and gracious and wise beyond her years, and she works tirelessly and selflessly for everything she believes in. Jessica, the church needs to get over itself and let more women like you lead.

Feeling awe, once again, at the women my girls get to know, love and look up to. Women who tell it like it is and don't leave out anything--joy, pain, heartache, grace. Women who are outspoken about injustice and oppression everywhere they see it. Women who are amazing mothers--to their own children and to each other.

Look at these girls... Am I the luckiest Mama in the world, or what?

Pumpkin

2009-09-25T22:17:00.000-07:00

Such a funny word, pumpkin. Say it slowly, 4 or 5 times. See what I mean?

I'm ready for fall smells and tastes, though I'm still not ready to be for-reals done with summer. I mean, it's been in the 80's and 90's this week so it's hard to be thinking about crispy sweaters and heavy boots just yet. I'm trying to walk that fine middle line--dinner tonight was pasta tossed with fresh baby spinach, end-of-summer tomatoes, pesto, and pine nuts. But this week I also made two big batches of these babies...

...and good gracious, the house smells good. I guess I like pumpkin bread. I mean I have a fabulous recipe for banana bread (moist, golden, eggy...), and make a chocolate zucchini bread that will leave you in (happy tears), and one year for Thanksgiving I made pumpkin bread pudding. Yum. But pumpkin bread? Never have I really wished or thought about making it. It just seems so Starbucks, anymore, kind of blase, kind of done. But I love the taste of pumpkin and the smell of pumpkin things cooking...

I found a recipe that looked promising (from this book here), changed the spice measurements because no offense to the author but "dash of nutmeg"? Are we afraid of over-spicing? In all fairness the waffle recipe in this book is the one Pea and Jeffrey make almost every weekend and it is GOOD. But I can't cook without tinkering a bit so I jacked up the spices, used white whole wheat flour to add more fiber and make me feel less guilty about the amount Birdie was sure to consume, and added an extra egg. One time I even added raisins, but I'm pretty sure the only raisins that should be used in something like this are the golden ones my Grandma Joy called sultanas. The dark ones were too sharp tasting.

So here you go: pumpkin muffins that make your house taste and smell like fall. They are really so very very good with a hot cup of french-pressed coffee.

Pumpkin-Apple Spice Muffins
(adapted from The Big Book of Breakfast)

2 1/2 c. white whole wheat flour
2 c. sugar
1 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. salt
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. cloves
1/2 tsp. ground nutmeg
3 eggs
1 c. canned pumpkin
1/2 c. canola or olive oil
2 tsp. pure vanilla
2 cups unpeeled chopped apples

Preheat oven to 350.

In large bowl, combine flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, and spices. In a medium bowl, whisk together eggs, pumpkin, oil, and vanilla. Add to dry ingredients and mix well. Stir in apples. (You can also add some chopped nuts but I don't usually like the way nuts taste in quick-breads--gummy.)

Spoon batter into paper-lined or greased muffin tins, filling about 3/4 full. Bake about 22-25 minutes, depending on your oven. Remove from pan and cool on a rack.

Guest

2009-09-24T00:55:00.001-07:00

I'm a guest writer this week at Living Sexuality, a fantastic sex, health, and relationship blog, for Becky Knight's series on all things menstruation Period Pieces.

What?

Oh.

Guess I've never gotten that sort of personal with you guys before. If fact, I've never written anywhere about something quite this intimate and though I'm pretty sure you'll be able to tell, at the same time it's started me thinking about a lot more things specific to my experiences as a girl and now woman--all the things I still need to uncover and tell. All the things I want to do differently with my own girls.

So please excuse the rough-ness of it. It's just a beginning.

But off you go. And then keep checking back for everything that's posted this week, leave some of your thoughts in the comments, and stick around and see what Becky decides to share next.

Oh, September

2009-09-23T22:35:00.000-07:00

We are having the best end of summer weather...hot days, chilly nights (as Pea says), and the kind of low-running breezes that stir up grass clippings, pine needles, and early-falling leaves.

The mornings are full of neighbors working in their gardens and joyously walking their dogs and tiny, stroller-bound children. The afternoons bring Crayola school buses, newly-sprung big kids looking for leaves to scuff as they drag backpacks home, play times at the favorite parks with friends, and then quiet hours when the girls nap and I begin dinner or dig into one of the many books I'm reading. Then it's evening and Daddoo, and four people trying to talk (or scream) at once, the eating of and cleaning up of dinner and Birdie demanding the same utensils as everyone else, then playtime, maybe bathtime, Daddoo time, books, teeth brushed, faces and hands (and sometimes feet) washed, and bedtime for little girls.

The nights sound like wind chimes and neighbors closing garage doors, the jingling of leashes and soft thud of sneakers for last walks, a far-away plane. Then all the people noises cease and suddenly all you can hear, through all the open windows all over the house, is the whoosh of wind high up in the old fir trees, and then the tidal sound of it through the 40-yr old maples and all the silver-leaved things standing crookedly along the back rise... And the trains. Oh, how I love the night trains.

It's all so beautiful.

And I'm so happy. In so many ways. For so many reasons.

Things are still in process. Life is still happening. The details are far from perfect. Much leaves me shaking in my boots from fear and general anxiety. There are many more battles to fight. I am daily aware of my shortcomings and failures.

But you know what? I'm happy. I feel deeply at peace with the way things are and (most of the time) I find it easy enough to ignore the anxious thoughts and what-if's and all that remains to be seen and just... I don't know, just... be.

I'm learning what everyone truly wise seems to understand, lessons that are new to me.

That everything strong is weathered--has weathered something fierce and over and over again.

That everything true has been proven, and proven in hardship.

That marriages are not made in agreeable happiness but are made truly agreeable and happy by walking through dark, soul-aching days and nights. Together.

That the most beautiful and precious relationships in life are worth every single minute of fighting and loving and listening and trying and yelling and redrawing and dreaming and re-dreaming and changing and laughing. And that I'll take my passionate, often-opinionated attempts at graceful relationship ANY day over the bland tales I hear of marriages where no one fights and everything is perfect all the time and nothing is ever the matter and both partners are SO damn perfect for each other. "Perfect" marriages collapse daily because shit really does (eventually) happen.

Here's to happiness.

Here's to beautiful re-fashionings.

Here's to love in all its starkness and 3 o'clock in the morning-ness.

Here's to six years married and a whole lifetime yet to be lived. Together.

(photos taken at friend's wedding this last weekend. Pea had a great time, though you can't exactly tell here...)

Summer's end

2009-09-22T23:06:00.000-07:00

Simple end-of-summer food is what I'm loving and craving and cooking right now. I'm almost ready for things to start smelling and tasting of fall (crisp-roasted veggies, velvety soups, pumpkin everything) but still there are barbecues and garden veggies everywhere and picnics and potlucks and I needed a quick potato salad I could assemble from items I normally have in the fridge and then take everywhere or anywhere. Proudly.

The recipe is my own but it's far from original. Remember how I hate exacting measurements and detailed instructions? There will be none of that.

See? Simple. So simple. But really good. And no mayonnaise or eggs or anything you might be opposed to. If you're opposed to basil I don't even know what to do with you.

Simple Summer Potato Salad

Fingerling potatoes, as many as you want to eat/make. I like a multi-colored assortment for this as it's especially nice to look at.

Slice in half lengthwise and boil in salted water till a little past soft. I abhor boiled potatoes being too firm or solid. They should start tasting a little mashy...yum.

Drain and cool a bit. Then toss in a big, pretty bowl with olive oil, sea salt, freshly-cracked black pepper, fresh basil, and lots of Parmesan cheese.

Now. Wasn't that easy?

I'm thinking a side of roasted tomatoes and grilled fish. Or a good juicy steak and sweet, end-of-summer corn. Or by itself in a big bowl with a glass of red wine.

Graces, #32

2009-09-21T00:00:00.000-07:00

September weddings. Seeing and hearing two people promise their lives to each other and remembering a similarly warm September evening when Jeffrey and I did the same. Drinking in the beauty and flowers and people and gorgeous location and laughter and dancing and...still feeling glad that we're here, six years farther down, than at the heady, dreamy beginning. Last year we took a tiny baby Birdie to another beautiful September wedding...she was tiny and so very fussy but it's another evening I'll always remember. Lovely, all of it.

Penelope dancing with all the grown-ups. With her raggedy stuffed cat. Adeleine inhaling cupcakes. Penelope in awe of the "married dress". Adeleine pouring punch down her jumper.

Watching Penelope interact with adults (almost) at their level. Noticing the adult tone she takes on with women she adores and women who treat her intelligently. Feeling amazed at how lucky she is and grateful that she already has her own tribe.

Leaving the second event of the weekend where I was completely blown away by the way my girls behaved in public. I mean, they are most certainly children and usually behave along the lines of every other bored-out-of-their skull toddler you see in Target, but first at breakfast and then at a (long, nap time/dinner time) wedding they were amazing. Normal for their age but...amazing. I had tears in my eyes when I belted them into their car seats. The whole weekend was a lot to ask of any kid and mine have been in Whining Screamville for so long that I forgot who else they often are: kind, polite, patient, observant, funny.

Making a list of people I wish to know forever. Thinking that if I never again met anyone new I would probably still be just fine.

Graces, #31

2009-08-26T13:44:00.000-07:00

Birdie eating grapes in the backseat as we leave on vacation. This kid does not nap in the car on principle, but when she's not yelling she's hilarious.

The beautiful, private beach just a short walk from our camp site. While our tents were nestled under cool, leafy trees and all around was the forest (including enormous raccoons, you guys), the beach was hot, with smooth sand and turquoise water.

Pea's face every time she sees the sea.

An enormous tent and comfy air mattresses. I am no survivalist.

Time with my brother, the girls favorite Uncle.

Real and serious grace

2009-08-25T22:01:00.000-07:00

Pea's burns are first degree only. This is a miracle.

On what was supposed to be our next-to-last day of camping we had awakened to early morning rain. A whole lot of it. This made an already-tricky situation with a 1 year-old who puts EVERYTHING on the ground into her mouth and does NOT like to be constrained AT ALL (ask me right now what I was thinking taking her camping and I will tell you that I have no idea but for some reason it had sounded fun...) into a wet, muddy, slick headache. But there was the promise of sun later and the beach was already dry and warm when we woke so we lit a small fire to warm our chilly bodies and started making plans for the day.

Pea was playing a game at the large picnic table when she slipped on the slick ground and fell backwards into the now-cooling campfire coals.

I had just hidden away in one of the tents for a much-needed nap (Birdie had screamed/nursed/screamed/nursed two nights in a row) when I was shocked awake by the cries of, "Am I on fire?! Daddoo, am I on fire?!!!"

Oh my god.

I stumbled out the front and saw Jeffrey rolling her on the ground.

I think my heart stopped.

Right before the adrenaline kicked in.

In the end her burns, across the back of her legs and back, have begun to heal quickly and thanks to Jeffrey's always-ready first-aid kit and the healing salves I always travel with she probably won't even scar.

But oh, my heart...my heart will carry this scar forever

Obviously the camping trip was over. Jeffrey started throwing all of our stuff into the big car and the girls and I piled into my mom's car and back home we came. Mostly because I wanted to be near our doctors/hospitals in case she needed further attention. But also because it was hard to recapture the peaceful relaxation of the hours before.

And because my heart would not slow down at all.

The whole time I'd been completely paranoid about Adeleine's safety. Penelope follows directions so well and is pretty cautious about powerful things like the ocean and fire so I hadn't worried much about her. And we had five adults with us so all in all things were set up very safely. In the end it was an accident, something we couldn't even prepare for.

She talks over and over about what it felt like to land in the fire pit and grab onto the hot sides just before my mom and brother pulled her out.

Thank you, thank you god that the fire was almost out.

Thank you that it was such a cool morning that she was wearing thick clothes.

Thank you that my husband takes his Boy Scout training seriously.

Thank you that there were four adults right there.

Thank you that now, just a few hours later, there is hardly even blistering.

Now if only my heart can recover...

Graces, #30, photo edition

2009-08-21T22:45:00.000-07:00

Daddoo and Birdie had a little date tonight.

Their destination? The front yard.

The fun? Green grass, sunshine, a Blackberry, and a certain weathered plastic slide.

I am so glad pictures were taken.

Isn't she amazing?

Graces, #29

2009-08-20T23:29:00.000-07:00

Setting a tiny, window screen-trapped ladybug free. Watching her as she suddenly realized she was outside again and lifted her polka-dot wings.

This morning's thermos full of iced coffee and note from Jeffrey. Do you know, I think I love him more every single day. And not just because there's (really, really good) coffee involved.

Nursing Birdie to sleep for her morning nap (the kid still takes 2 naps! I can't believe I made a child who can nap! Sure makes up for all the screaming--Woot!) as Pea softly creeps up to kiss Sister on the head and tell her 'night-'night. Except she leaned in close, touched her lips to Birdie's flushed cheek, and hoarsely whispered, "Tag--you're it."

Friends signing for their first house today. Friends who will be neighbors so soon. Toasting their good fortune with champagne and mango sorbet mimosas after a dinner of homemade hamburgers with jack cheese and guacamole. Birdie threw every single thing off her high-chair tray (again. of course.) but then proceeded to eat half my dinner off MY plate with my fork.

Walking to their new house, the four children scattered across the largely empty streets, pointing out gardens and basketball hoops, funny backyards and swimming pools. Their beautiful, tree-shaded lawn and the garden with blueberry bushes.

An almost startling breeze coming up at the end of the day, smelling of fall and the ocean. School starts soon. Not for my girlies but still exciting somehow...

Graces, #28

2009-08-18T20:48:00.000-07:00

Eggs from a friend's chickens. Pale green and speckled shells.

Sometimes they cook up especially lovely.

Heirloom tomatoes that look like sunsets inside.

The face of someone who is a most effective finder of all things small and dangerous (screws, paperclips, minuscule pieces of plastic) and who can try my patience several hundred times a day. But oh, how I love her.

Summer dinner.

Graces, #27

2009-08-10T09:56:00.000-07:00

It's been a busy week at our house. Sometimes I don't know how this can be, as Jeffrey and I love and crave stillness and calm but then I look over the breakfast table at my two, sunny-faced monkey children and it all becomes clear. Still, I am daily making attempts and finding quiet and stillness inside me...a solitary moment to read a page of something beautiful, taking full advantage of the moments of cooperative play to stare out the window, far far beyond the silver and green tree tops. And I'm trying really hard to not give in to all the beautiful, wonderful, good, things we keep filling our time with and remember how to keep home as our core. For a little bit longer. Still.

I don't have a list today. But I do love this apron a lot. A thrift store score and exactly what I've been looking for, down to color. Extra points for the print reminding me of the illustrations in a favorite childhood story collection. How's that for something tiny and good? And when I wear it I feel in every pore the master of my kitchen. No, not mistress, that sounds like something else.

So...there's the apron. There are tiny, clutched at moments of calm. And there are BIG plans in my head, plans that are finally making their way to paper and a computer. Plans for a non-profit and a foundation and oh my, I can't tell you now, but I'm pretty sure I have figured out what I was born to do and though it's a couple years away (honestly) from being in any way more than a well-planned-out dream, I feel like the future is suddenly opening wide and I'm no longer nervous about what's next.

So...there's that, too.

Graces, #26

2009-08-04T23:04:00.000-07:00

A day at the beach. Saturday we drove to a gorgeous, gorgeous beach I hadn't been to in a few years and had the loveliest day. Jeffrey was in a strategic planning meeting all day but my mom came along. The weather was close to perfection, there was coffee (lots!), there was all the food we'd brought for lunch and snacks, there was really good Mexican food for dinner. It was cool and shady in the mountains there and back, and all the shadowed green of fir trees and farms felt like a healing balm after the hottest week I can remember.

The next morning, Sunday, I was left to sleep till eleven. Eleven! I haven't done that since...well, since Birdie was tiny and I'd been up all night so it almost didn't count and we were all so frazzled that god only knew what time of day or night it was anyway and would anything ever feel sane or better or good or not stressful ever again?!! Eleven. I missed my usual writing/alone time because of this, but Jeffrey took Penelope to his company's pool party in the afternoon so I was home with Her Grumpiness the Teething Tantrum Lass, but ONLY Her Grumpiness. Not Her Grumpiness and Her Who Wears a Thousand Moods a Minute. So all in all it was a very calm, restful, short kind of day.

The nights have been cool again. Oh, I love this. You can give me almost any daytime temperature as long it turns into a clean and breezy 60 degrees at night.

Surprise extra money at just exactly the perfect time. Miraculous. The knot in my stomach is slowly relaxing. This was completely unexpected and amazing. Now we just need to continue living like the single-income, two-child family we are, instead of...well, instead of a lot of things.

Cooking two meals last night so there was nothing to do tonight but go have a make-up writing session and catch up on some reading.

Graces, #25

2009-07-31T11:33:00.001-07:00

Spending almost all of yesterday out of the house. Most of the time we don't mind being home but after being shut in by extreme heat (I didn't want to be going in and out of severe heat then severe air conditioning too much, as it's so hard on little ones) we were more than ready to be anywhere else. OMSI for playtime the whole afternoon, and then IKEA for dinner and wandering and a few things for Birdie's newly painted room and, of course, ice cream cones. Cause they're $1.

Neighbors out watering and weeding gardens again, after almost a week of hiding indoors and far away to stay cool. The tut-tut-teeeee of sprinklers, the sound of birds happy to find water, the broken water-over-pebble sounds of happy, neighborly conversation rising up through the window screens...

Neko Case, Lucinda Williams, and Gillian Welch, the background and underneath sounds of today. The sort of happiness that has tears leaking underneath. I know this. I like this.

Pea sleeping late two mornings in a row. It's mostly because she has a raging summer cold not helped AT ALL by the high pollen counts and smog of this ridiculous heat wave (see Twitter for my constant complaing about) but she is trying really hard, all on her own, to be cheerful and it's sort of heartbreaking and sweet.

Not feeling guilty about not working out for almost a week. It's been too bloody hot. I'm starting to feel a bit chubby again, but that's probably all the ice cream I've eaten in this heat. It was a matter of survival, you know.

Graces, #24

2009-07-29T11:41:00.000-07:00

Monday morning Penelope and I went berry picking. The morning the sickening heat rolled in. We managed to fill 1 bucket each with beautiful blueberries and marionberries and bought a flat of the most fragrantly sweet raspberries that had been picked that morning before the sunshine actually became oppressive and Pea demanded water and more permanent shade.

Actually, she was standing at the end of one of the rows of blueberry bushes, trying to flag down the farmer's son and his antique tractor with the beautiful wagon, begging in her best Oliver Twist voice for a ride and that she was done, DONE.

So it wasn't the ideal, completely happy experience I'd envisioned, but once we were home she pronounced it a good time and in the end that's really all that matters.

The peach trees looked positively loaded and between them and the heavy blueberry bushes I really want to go back soon.

Next year there will be jam and preserving and freezing. This year we finished off $38 of berries in a week. But it was so abnormally hot (108! In the Pacific NW!) that all we felt like eating this week was cold food. So they were consumed plain, on yogurt, on salads, blended into smoothies with juicy nectarines, frozen into homemade popsicles (with bananas, nectarines, and pitted fresh cherries), and the mushiest, juiciest ones were poured over frosty vanilla ice-cream.

Graces, #23

2009-07-24T10:28:00.000-07:00

Birdie's birthday party was beautiful. And the best part was almost everyone stayed late.

Another amazing cake from Auntie Tiffany. This one to match almost exactly the invitation. And Birdie is very different from Pea at age one year, in that she LOVES cake, loves, loves, loves it. She can spot baked goods from across a store or coffee shop and immediately starts smacking her lips and reaching her dimply little fingers out. On Pea's first birthday we finally got her to touch her cute Curious George cake from Auntie and a big, full-body shiver went through her. And she gagged.

A party full of people we love. People who love little Adeleine. People (mostly) who have been a significant part of her life. Realizing, for real, that my girls have so many beautiful and outspoken Aunties and several handsome and safe uncles. How lucky we are, they are...

The end of a difficult year. Who knows what this next span of August to July holds, but it will be different. And that sounds really, really good. Yes, I no longer have a tiny baby... But this baby was not easy. And though Jeffrey and I are almost daily in a better, more connected, safer place, the path here is one I never wish to repeat. Do I keep talking about this? Perhaps. But it's so much of my reality at present...

A beautiful, perfect summer evening right before the oppressive heat set in. How lucky to be born in summer, I think--to always connect the day you were born to sunshine, blue skies, barbecues, ice-cream cones, vacation.

And Penelope (below on the left, playing in the trees with her sweet friend): I know I've talked recently about how hard it's been. But let me tell you about the other parts--about her suddenly having these long, long, brown arms and legs, long dark-blond hair, lean muscle everywhere. She's like a beautiful, wild filly. And I know that sounds almost too cheesy to put down for posterity, but I am completely serious. She's so thoughtful and precise and strong and fast and dances or runs everywhere. She is 100 emotions a day and so sure of herself, so anxious to fight any boundary put in her path and yet, after the anger and tears, quick to reach out emotionally and find a way back to safety. She's so connected to her thoughts and dreams... I can't believe I birthed someone so completely, so fearlessly female.

Actually, I birthed two of them. And in the process of their being and growing I am learning to own my own fearlessness, to hunger for wisdom and beauty together. In some ways motherhood has shocked me to life. What a beautiful, terrifying, astonishing life...

Happy Birdie Day

2009-07-23T00:06:00.000-07:00

My baby is 1 today. And for once I'm out of words.

She is lovely and it's been a tough year. She is strong and I have faced my own weakness over and over. She is sensitive and loud and vocal and affectionate. She is clear-eyed and snuggly, tender-hearted and tough as nails.

She's my girl.

My Baby Birdie, my Adeleine. Flesh of my flesh and completely her own. I love her exactly the same as Pea and completely, utterly different.

I can't imagine life without her.

Grace in small things, #22

2009-07-21T13:53:00.000-07:00

Today it's more like Grace Through Gritted Teeth.

I've spent most of today taking Pea by the hand and over to Naughty Chair. Again, and again, again, world without end, forever and ever and ever amen. And nothing calms the constant flood of tears, none of the good and fun things that have happened today (friends here, craft time, muffins, stories...) have kept at bay her new voice for me, petulant and angry. "MA-MAA!" She's taken toy after toy from her sister and friend, yelled at me for not giving her what she wants exactly the way she wants it, and thrown her whole body onto the floor in perfect imitation of her baby sister's tantrums. She has begged for more TV (she only watches a bit in the mornings while I shower), refused to eat at mealtime, cried from hunger at bedtime and then moped around all day because she didn't sleep and she's exhausted. And nothing in our world has changed.

I have been hard-pressed to see any of the sensitive, compassionate, funny, companionable person I know her to truly be. I have struggled almost every minute of today to believe, still, that goodness and grace is lodged deep in her heart, and mostly I have struggled to remember that, like all phases, this particularly heinous one will soon be over. Will it? Will it be over before I over-react demand to be in control? Will it be over before I learn the lesson in this, so I can take another stab at learning it when she's 13 and knows in every inch of her bones my failures as her mother?

Today I don't even want a do-over. I just want it to be tomorrow so it's no longer today.

So today I make this list to try and find a way out.

Rainier cherries from the farmer's market. Each a different combination of red, blush-pink, coral, and butter yellow.

Girls' Night tonight, with friends I haven't seen in ages. Not having to do a blessed thing but show up.

Good friends moving into our neighborhood. SO close, in fact, that our kids will be able to soon bicycle back and forth, but enough blocks between us that we should still (hopefully) enjoy every minute shared. I love these boys dearly and I am thrilled to think that Pea and Birdie will have such good friends so close as they grow...

Ceiling fans. Air moving quietly through the house.

Ian and Penelope pouring their bubble bottles out onto the deck and then sliding, shirtless, around and around in the slick soap and falling all over while laughing hysterically. This is why fancy toys are pointless.

Graces, #21

2009-07-19T15:18:00.000-07:00

Auntie Sharon's visit. The girls fell in love all over again and they are so very lucky to have someone like her in their lives: feisty and strong, wise and kind.

Laundry caught up at the beginning of the week.

Two silly, laughing, monkey-girls fresh from the bath and tucked into clean sheets and jammies.

My many emotions of today over a situation that cannot be easily righted involving people who don't exactly have a good history with truth-telling, being heard and understood. What a relief that always is.

Knowing that the only thing standing between me and a good night's sleep is a certain 3 year old. Knowing it's not her fault, really, she wants to sleep well too.

Graces, #20

2009-07-15T16:29:00.000-07:00

Cake. Banana cake filled with more bananas and cream. And yellow cake cupcakes with lemon cream-cheese frosting.

Water fountains and wee babes in bright swimsuits and streaky sunscreen.

The girls riding in the Radio Flyer, eating fresh blueberries out of a Ziploc bag and sleepy from sun and water.

Managing to work out 3 days in a row.

How peaceful our home feels at the end of a day... Babies in bed, lights low, quiet streets outside, talking and working deep into the night with J. I'm glad I chose him, all those years ago. I'm glad we keep choosing each other.

Graces, #19

2009-07-12T22:17:00.000-07:00

Sunday alone time. Sitting in the far corner with writing things and discreetly staring at the people lining up with sleepy eyes and hair at the counter.

Neko Case on the coffee shop radio. Damp, humid air lightening out between the clammy branches of nearby trees. Coffee that tastes like caramel and tobacco.

Penelope counting to 30. Like this:"...twenty-eight, twenty-nine, twenty-thirty."

The way Birdie runs. Have I mentioned it before? Well, it deserves another mention: chest out, arms up (or better yet, loaded with stolen shoes and someone's purse), eyes fixed upon the goal. As Jordan said, her body gets there before her feet do. It's hilarious and wonderful.

Strange, mid-summer rain that feels like...fall. The barbecue tonight made the whole empty, glistening street smell like bonfires at the beach...marshmallows and foil. Sand in my hair.

Graces, #18

2009-07-10T16:41:00.000-07:00

Blueberries, juicy and sweet and icy cold from the fridge.

Celebrating the birthday of someone kind and very much loved. Someone who makes us family.

Perfecting the family enchilada recipe. For once I did not photograph the food.

Going out for gelato with the girls to celebrate. Pistachio, strawberry, tiramisu, and kiwi sorbetto were the flavors of the evening. As you can see from the pictures, they didn't enjoy it at all.

Reading British murder mysteries in the quiet, and strangely cool summer nights. The only thing the peaceful darkening air is missing is fireflies.

Graces, #17

2009-07-08T18:24:00.000-07:00

I really need to do this today. Because the dark cloud found me again this afternoon and for a minute there I thought I was going to dismantle something small. Like an exterior wall.

Somehow managing to completely blow out of the water my new goals for both book reading and blogging. Goal A is Finish a Book a Month for the Rest of My Life. Since making that goal in May I've read 7. Goal B is Blog Weekly for a Year. I'm on it.

Eating Birdie's leftover noodles. In a robin's egg blue bowl. With wine.

Managing to stay at this first weight goal for longer than a minute. Even though the past few weeks everything continues to conspire against my being able to exercise more than 3 days a week. I'm so close to seeing a huge breakthrough that this is endless FRUSTRATING. I wanted to be down another size by the middle of summer and into another set of my old clothes, winking at me daily from the closet. But the children care nothing for my goals. Also, nothing for my sanity.

(This is taking a turn from the gracious... Let's see if I can get back on track...)

Time with friends today. At their house, so I didn't even have to mop! Coffee, snacks, lunch, a craft for the older three, lots of heart-talk. (Such a good morning that I just don't know where the sadness came from this time...)

Plans beginning to sprout in my head for Pea's schooling. We're still a year or so off from really needing to do anything, but I'm convinced of the importance of honoring a child's natural hunger to know. And she is chock-full of questions all of a sudden.

Graces, #16

2009-07-06T23:04:00.000-07:00

Pea still calling them "handburgers". Birdie saying shoes (shhhh)and ball (bah) and being obsessed with both.

Tall, clinkety glasses of iced tea, with lemon balm from the garden.

Playtime with friends today--sack lunch packed early this morning and lots of time to talk around the four kids playing.

Leftover muffins from last night. They SHOULD be good, with that much butter, and so so easy that I've filed the recipe away to make again and again. I might be starting to like this baking thing after all.

The sound of chickens from up the hill behind us, the sound of sprinklers from across the street, the calling of birds from every tree on every side. Breeze through the wide-flung windows. Leaf patterns on the shady street.

Graces, #15 (Picture version)

2009-07-06T22:09:00.000-07:00

Graces, #14

2009-07-05T21:53:00.000-07:00

3 days at the beach.

Escaping the heat of the city for two nights of cool, salt-rimy air and enormous stretchings of sky.

Ice cream cones with the girls. Pea asking for "chehwy ice kweem in a cone!" and then dancing along the sidewalk, cone in hand, from sheer July holiday happiness. Birdie sank her teeth deep into my waffle cone again and again, sucking out huge mouthfuls of peaches and cream. (At least one of the girls missed the cold-sensitive genes.)

Small town parade. Antique fire trucks, antique cars, candy, flags, a terrifying Jonah and the Whale float spouting water and covered in commands to repent (yikes), grown men in coconut bikini tops, Cub Scouts, children dressed as the town's first schoolchildren, the mayor, the works. The town we go to is 100 years old this year.

Pea's face when she came back from seeing the over-the-water fireworks display with Jeffrey. Shining--absolutely shining out from her stripy fleece hat. She told me she'd seen purple shooting stars and that "now that I'm threeeee, I'm not afwaid of firewooks anyMORE!"

Noodle salad two ways...and more

2009-07-02T15:59:00.000-07:00

What to eat when it's hot? Something icy cold or something that can survive at room temperature for a bit, something requiring little effort or sweat. Even better if it also has some protein in it, making the preparation of anything else unnecessary. EVEN better if the leftovers taste especially good the next afternoon, eaten with a tall, frosty glass of minty-lemonade.

First off, my variation of a friend's recipe. I CANNOT leave things alone, which is why I shouldn't/don't bake much. But I fiddled with this 3 or 4 times and here's the final version.

Cold and Crunchy Asian Noodles

Cook 1/2 lb. soba or spaghetti noodles to al dente, then drain. Be sure to err on the al dente side--a bit firm is better than mush!

1/3 c. toasted sesame oil
1 heaping tsp. crushed or minced garlic
juice of 1 fresh lime (get every last bit)
1/2 c. seasoned rice wine vinegar (be sure it's made with sugar, not corn syrup)
1/4 tsp. red pepper flakes (or more, for more of a kick)
1/2 TBSP grated fresh ginger (or more, if you like)
1 heaping tsp. sugar
sea salt, to taste

Whisk this around a large mixing bowl until sugar has dissolved. Taste and adjust flavor to your preferences. Then grate directly into the bowl:

2 carrots, peeled and ends removed

Whisk to incorporate, then add:

1 orange, yellow, or red bell pepper, seeded, cored, and chopped into half-matchsticks
1 big palm-full, ready-to-eat edamame (Trader Joe's, salad section)

Stir well, then add drained and cooled pasta. Top with cilantro or fresh mint, whichever you prefer.

This goes really well with firm tofu that's been pressed for a few hours (to lessen moisture content), sliced up and marinated in Soy Vay of some kind for another few hours and then seared in a lightly oiled pan. (Or wok. I do not know how to use a wok, but one day Jeffrey is going to show me.)

Next up, SUPER easy.

Greek Tortellini Salad

Bring a large pot of water to a boil and add:

1 16 oz. pkg Trader Joe's (or other) dried tortellini pasta with pesto or mushroom filling.

Ignore their cooking directions!!! It will be al dente closer to the 9 minute mark--NOT 16 or 18 or whatever they're still printing on the back of the wrap.

Drain pasta and cool.

In big serving bowl, mix together the following:

1-2 cucumbers, peeled and chopped
2-3 cups chopped and seeded tomatoes (seeding will keep the salad from getting soggy)
1 can black olives, halved OR 1 c. chopped and pitted Kalamata olives
8 oz. crumbled feta cheese

If you don't like olives, throw in a jar of (drained) garlicky marinated mushrooms, marinated artichokes, or something else pickled or salty, as the olives are pretty much just adding salt and color.

Shake some good, flavorful balsamic or red-wine vinegar over veggies and cheese, crack some black pepper over it, and add the drained, cooled pasta.

That's it. You're done.

I guess you could add some fresh basil. Or some jarred roasted red peppers. But that's pretty much it. The salt from the olives and cheese and creaminess of the cheese and pasta mean that vinegar and pepper is really all it needs. And good luck trying to save it for later.

My other current favorite salad is from the amazing Smitten Kitchen: Pesto Potato Salad Need I say more? Well, here's a picture.

You know you want some--go get the recipe! Next week I'm going to try the red potato, pea, and mint salad a friend just made. YUM. Will post the results.

Graces, #13

2009-06-30T22:52:00.000-07:00

Birdie discovering her tongue and sticking out everywhere, all the time, at anyone. Completely innocent and hilarious.

Making lists and lists and lists. Making lists is often a reminder to me of how lucky I am, how much choice I have, what a peaceful life this is in comparison to a good half of the rest of the world.

Pea having a swimming lesson from her Auntie and hearing how game she was for (almost) all of it. She couldn't handle the entire-face-in-water part (anyone who's heard her during bath time will get this) but kicked, jumped, floated, and blew bubbles like a pro.

Birdie's eyes, the minute I open her door each morning--the way their dark grey-blue with yellow sunbursts suddenly sparkle. She calls my name, husky and almost mischievous, and then, once she's in my arms and cuddling her face into my chest (her little finger-claws squeezing every inch of exposed flesh on me--hard) she starts whimpering for "Nanana!" Banana. She eats 2-3 every day. It's a miracle she poops at all.

Not having to cook dinner tonight. Dinner with friends at their house. I'm going to leave this house a complete mess and be ever so grateful.

Graces, #12

2009-06-27T10:53:00.000-07:00

3 years of blogging as of today. When I started I was tentative, scared, and a newly-mother. Now I hear "Mama, MaMA!!!" all day long and am much more decisive. Still a little scared. (Working on that.)

Meeting with dear, wise friends who know a few things about marriage and relationship. Hearing truth and hearing love. They didn't hold themselves up as the standard but they offered what they had and it went deep into our hearts.

Being told last night that the key to Jeffrey and me moving beyond this difficult season of marriage is dreaming together again. More dreaming, more planning, and that the feelings that used to be there will follow. 24 hours later we are already feeling different--better than we have in months--and there is already much on paper.

Penelope standing 3 feet, 5 inches tall and wearing a size 10 shoe. Holy tallness, Batman, exactly how tree-like are these children going to be? Right now they are Monkey Puzzle trees, it's true: prickly, great big spaces, strong, ready to take over the world but still in need of protection.

Planning for the coming week: sunshine, swimming, shopping, playing, seeing friends, reading, reading, reading, more on-paper dreaming with J as we plan the next 6-10 years.

Graces, #11

2009-06-23T22:08:00.001-07:00

Birdie turning 11 months. Today. And as of yesterday she calls me Mammamma (and grins).

Dinner simmering in the slow-cooker all day long. So after park and water fountain times with friends we came home to not much to do except nap and eat. Today was an especially good day for that as Pea and I were both extremely cranky off and on.

Pea's new love of "neck-a-laces and brace-a-lets". We made new ones together, too. She always wears her bracelets this way, around her bicep like an Egyptian queen. She says that it doesn't get in her way, this way, and that she can play AND look pretty. She's brilliant.

The self-portraits Pea takes. Constantly. Sometimes I hide the camera. But SO funny.

Warm sunshine and hours out of doors after weeks of grey and rain and gloominess. I'm grateful that we haven't yet had a 100-degree heat wave and we've had little reason to use the a/c but seriously, people, the April in June thing was getting a little old...

Graces, #10 (photo version)

2009-06-20T21:46:00.000-07:00

(Penelope, exactly one year ago)

(Penelope, recently)

(Friends)

(Walking. All over.)

(Sweetest baby in the whole entire world.)

Graces, #9

2009-06-15T22:46:00.000-07:00

I love that every day I'm now on the lookout for the upside...

Dinner. Pasta tossed with crisp-steamed asparagus, olive oil, lemon zest, black pepper, Parmesan (aka What Was in the Fridge). Topped with with a little fresh mint. Maybe the best thing I've eaten in months.

The way Penelope repeats back to us things we've said to her. "If you need me," She says as she runs to the bathroom, "I'll be right here, ok?"

The way Adeleine can say Daddoo (dadadadada), all done (ah duh!), down (points, grunts), boo (bbbbbbb), and hi (haaah), but NOT Mama. Considering just how attached she's been to me from the first minute of her life, I find this endlessly funny.

The first bread I've made in, oh, say, 14 years? Penelope helped and it was an easy recipe for her attention span and my patience level.

Neighbors looking out for each other, getting to know one another, and taking care when illness strikes. I may live deeper in suburbia than was the original plan, but I think we hit a good-neighbor jackpot when we bought this house.

Graces, #8

2009-06-13T19:45:00.000-07:00

Sweet, flushy, peach-pink roses from a friend's neighbor's garden. They don't smell like Granny--they smell like candy. (For the record, I LOVE fresh lavender and most fresh roses but LOATHE any of the bottled attempts at replication.)

Celebrating one of our favorite little one's birthdays today. He's two, and there were water balloons and balls and cupcakes and a playground and as we left Pea took my hand and declared, "I had a really great time, Mama!" We all did.

The week's shopping done all by myself. Without children. Which was especially good considering how tired I am and how much patience I am LACKING.

Fun plans for the week that include so many different friends and shared meals. For once brief moment of time we will be party people.

A rather short to-do list for the week. Which probably means I should tackle the fridge or oven but... maybe I don't care that much.

On girl children, part 2

2009-06-12T10:23:00.000-07:00

Woke up this morning realizing that in my emotion I forgot some rather key points and clarifications in that last post. And my friend (and one of the funniest and best writers I know) left me a beautifully honest comment on that first post that helped me figure out where to begin (thanks, Manda!)

#1) For 25 years I had a seriously dysfunctional relationship with my mother and we're still putting things back together. For years I was absolutely terrified of being a mother and mostly terrified of becoming her. It still freaks me out sometimes that I'm a stay-at-home mother primarily because the way I saw this done, all those long years, was not a way that I ever want to do things. I am still easily frightened of totally fucking up my girl-children and for this reason cannot watch another Oprah about A)eating disorders, B)teenage mothers, C)runaways/cutters/kids with severe depression.

#2) In the odd moments where I DID feel the mother urge (and obviously there WAS one there, hiding behind all my anxieties) I was convinced I would have boys. Jeffrey wanted girls, originally, but I REALLY wanted boys. And I still love baby boys and all of our amazing and hilarious little man-friends. I meant no disrespect by them whatsoever and if, after a moment of crazy passion somewhere in the next 6 or 7 years, suddenly find myself pushing a tiny little BOY out of my body, I will be JUST as in love and JUST as freakishly protective of his psyche and future.

#3) The brunt of my fury was aimed primarily at the particular church culture I grew up in and the theology I was drilled in that always, at every single possible instance, placed man as the "head", "covering", "authority", or "ruler" over women. (And especially the people that tried to make me feel special by ALLOWING me the honor of wife/mother ONLY, while considering any theological position that in any way gives equal standing to women as goddess-worship, sinful, un-Christian, blah, blah, blah.)

This raising of girls to be strong, feisty, smart, secure, nurturing, intelligent, happy women is HARD SHIT. I am no expert. You will realize this if you've ever seen me attempt to get through a day on no sleep and no coffee and serious back-of-the-brain processing going on re: the current state of my marriage. I am positively RICH, however, in friends who are not afraid to spill their guts and fears and failures in this. And so my underlying belief is that our daughters WILL make it. And will go farther than we ever will. And that the dark mother legacies many of us have carried in our bones will soon break wide open as the women borne by our bodies go on to live fearlessly and completely confident in their person-hood.

Graces, #7

2009-06-12T09:43:00.000-07:00

Beautiful rainbow chard from my mom and sis's garden, in a salad with my favorite simple dressing (fresh garlic, olive oil, seasoned rice wine vinegar).

Pea telling me that the broken fridge magnet "is has-ing some troubles".

Deciding that the slow collection of drunken and bloated garden slugs is actually NOT my favorite way to spend the summer weeks and springing for the least-poisonous poison I could find. (whew!)

Birdie's new Buddha belly. Balanced on still-tiny legs. And the way being naked makes her laugh so hard she topples over.

Peace starting to invade my home again. Feeling better every day about Jeffrey and me, about our future, about the work ahead. Feeling heard and less and less alone in the fight.

On girl children

2009-06-11T21:53:00.000-07:00

Just a couple of things that piss me off. And then we can go back to all that grace stuff.

I've recently realized that I HATE, with all the blunt, traumatic force of that word, HATE it when fellow females say anything like the following:

"I'm soooo glad I never had girls because they're sooooo much harder (or) so much more emoooootional than boys"

"Wow, you have two girls? TWO? Wow...must be really exciting at your place, sometimes...*chuckles, slaps knee, winks at Jeffrey*"

Um...I'm sorry. I never hear anyone say, "Wow, you have two boys? TWO? Wow...raw deal. Sorry."

I have two things to say about this:

1) Why don't you just come out and say it to my round freckled face: "Boys are more valuable, STILL, to my part of society, and this fact is handily proven by my personal theology which is (handily) based in large part on the writings of a man who A)was totally fine with the owning and using of SLAVES; and B)was never married, certainly never the father of a girl-child, and still carried inside him a rather tribal and angry image of god." I happen to (audaciously, perhaps) believe that I was just as equally made in the likeness of god and so were my girls. When you put down girls this way you're engaging in behaviour that is only STEPS away from the following: believing that girls don't need to be (as) educated, believing that a woman's place is ONLY in the home, believing that women are valuable only or mostly as sexual objects (thank you porn industry, the plastic surgery industry, and all the American businessmen who make child sex trafficking a real moneymaker), and (my personal fave) believing that being raped is the rape victim's fault.

On a side note- It's my experience that women who are most fearful of having girls have yet to resolve their own value, having been brought up to believe that boys/men are naturally: smarter, stronger, or better at whatever it is she always wanted to do/be or has a serious disconnect with her own (usually intellectually as well as emotionally) disconnected mother.

2) When you make sexist statements like this you are JUST as demeaning to boys/men as you are to girls/women. Boys have hormones. Men have emotions. Boys can be difficult. Men can be hard to deal with. Those old-timey charts of "boys are strong, hairy and cannot be civilized" and "girls have delicate constitutions and were made for the shade and smelling salts" are just plain dumb. And you know it. Women regularly and since the dawn of time have been pushing living human beings out of their vaginas, and some of the biggest, most intense-looking men I know are stellar fathers and partners and teachers and caretakers and nurses and husbands. All by choice.

Summary?

I LOVE being a girl. I LOVE being a wife and mother. I love being a woman. I happen to LOVE having girls. Two of them. One of them already shows incredible athletic ability and strength of will. I see no reason to re-direct this behaviour into more "feminine roles". She is feminine by plain virtue of being female. She bears the image of her creator--a creator who happily wears the disguise of both father and mother as the need or occasion requires.

In a nutshell?

Stop it. And PLEASE stop saying these things around my daughters.

Graces, #6

2009-06-07T19:45:00.001-07:00

So this is more like what I was imagining. When have I ever been able to manage daily blogging? Feels really hard to come up with these after the last few days I've had. But here goes.

Waking to a feeling-much-better kind of a Peanut Girl. To the point of hyper--bouncing off the walls and jumping from every chair in sight. But at least she's no longer sick.

All the napping and snuggling and stories and shared PBS Kids of the past couple days. I would wake up sometimes to her half-asleep kisses.

Birdie walking all over the place...around corners and tables and beds and down halls and across the room. Her legs are wide like she's straddling a horse and she holds her hands up and out and it's so funny and different from her sister.

Time to read, even if it WAS while being sick.

Remembering that I'm not alone, even though it feels really dark right now and the details of everything that's happening feel completely and utterly overwhelming. There have been miracles before. I'm hoping we haven't used them all up yet.

Graces, #5

2009-06-04T20:47:00.000-07:00

Angie here for coffee and lunch. Last-minute phone calls that work out are my favorite.

Both babies in bed and asleep by 8:30. Who knows what will happen later but I have learned to be grateful for every single moment of peace.

A sudden storm--high wind, rain, gravel-colored clouds, and lightening. I LOVE thunderstorms. As long as the power stays on. Oh, and as long as there are no tornadoes. Other than that, I LOVE summer thunderstorms.

The smell of wet grass, wet asphalt, wet trees. The windows are all thrown wide open to this sudden cooling...lovely.

Chocolate and three new library books. Reading is a great diversion for the stress I'm trying not to carry at present. I know everything's going to be fine, eventually. I just wish eventually would come sooner.

Graces, #4

2009-06-03T21:29:00.000-07:00

The way Birdie walks, listing hard to the left and waving her right hand like a bad oarsman, trying desperately to move in a straight line.

Zyrtec. After several days of my eyes swelling almost completely shut and itching like THE DICKENS. So yeah, I may have to wean Birdie a bit early or...maybe I won't. Depends.

Knowing how to handle my anxiety a bit better this time. I'm still super anxious but I'm still letting people in. This is BIG progress.

Seeing my body reshape itself (finally) after months of work. Off-and-on work, at times, due to sick children and still-loopy hormones but I'm STILL IN IT. And I'm starting to like it, even.

Pea asking for a pen and paper so she could "write down da rest of dis song I'm writing. Like uncle does."

Graces, #3

2009-06-02T15:55:00.000-07:00

Coffee. Lots of it. Inky dark and just a bit sweet.

3 beautiful fresh eggs, straight from the backyard of friends.

Thoughts of the soon-to-be vacation by the sea...

Items finally checked off on a goal list that's been around for 6 years.

Not being pregnant this summer.

Grace in Small Things, #2

2009-06-01T23:10:00.001-07:00

(Uh, yes. That's right, #2. I'm apparently on a roll, but don't ask too many questions because it could end--suddenly--at any time.)

Tomato plants that continue to thrive despite the constant wolves at the door, slugs, cutworms, and beetles.

Bright yellow American goldfinches and russet-winged House finches at the feeder all day long, squabbling over placement and always bravely defending their mate's honor and feeding rights.

Birdie hearing Jeffrey coming in the door the other night and her sister running and suddenly throwing herself over the side of her highchair with the cry of, "Dadadadada! Dadadadadadada!" Do you hear Daddoo, I asked, amazed (the kid refuses on principle to say anything remotely resembling Mama). She nodded vigorously (she has been nodding vigorously for a couple of months now) and so I hoisted her tiny self up and ran her over to Jeffrey where she proceeded to plant her face in his shoulder, babble his name in her husky and sweet talking voice, and babble, "Dadadadadadada lulloo, lulloo."

Gleaming metal cans of candy pink paint for Birdie's room.

Friends who really see and really listen.

Grace in Small Things, Week 1

2009-05-31T23:47:00.000-07:00

Birdie walking--arms out-stretched, high-stepping knees, curled-under toes.

3 weeks in a row, 3 solitary hours to write read, at my favorite coffee shop.

Fear becoming hard work, frustration becoming change, some long-time personal goals finally being realized.

Peace within the complicated present.

Pea looking up at me suddenly and yelling, "Bow to the how cow!" I don't know, either, but it sure was funny.

Beginning. Again.

2009-05-31T22:20:00.000-07:00

Hello, out there...it's me, it's really me. And I think I might be ready to come back.

I've been thinking about trying to resurrect this little space and reconnect with anyone still out there...anyone? Oh well, I understand, it HAS been pretty hit and miss since little Birdie arrived on the scene. There are perfectly good reasons for that, but...I'm wondering if I can try to jump back in and see what happens?

It's been a bumpy few months around Chez Kaye but I am hopeful. Ok, it's actually been a really intense year. For the first time ever I am actually looking forward to a certain child's NEXT year and feeling pretty well done with and OVER this last one. Birdie, I'm looking at you, kid. And Jeffrey and I are...working on things. Yeah, I know that's the point of marriage/partnership/lifelong relationship but, uh, the REALITY of lifelong partnership has some rather down periods, it turns out, and we are currently working through some...stuff, shit, details...there are variously applicable terms, depending on the day. The girls are brilliant and healthy and growing way too fast and sometimes not fast enough (again, depending on the day) but mostly way too fast. And I...I'm learning to forgive (again) and let go of a LOT of hurtful people and experiences and actually move ON; I'm learning (again) to lean into the change that life continues to throw at me/us (still! what the hell?); I'm feeling challenged all the time in the way I parent and guide the girls, to think things through a little better and be less rigid. I'm still way too hard on myself. I'm still grateful for every single minute I have with these funny, small human girl creatures.

I've recently begun to regularly journal privately, something I haven't done consistently in years, and oh goodness, has it been cathartic and clarifying. I'm going to be keeping most of my ramblings and inner thoughts to myself for a bit and spare you the finer points and gorier details of my current journey, mostly because part of the process is naming a lot of old things and old relationships and I can't and won't do that here or publicly (yikes), but I have a little plan for regular updates and more regular involvement with the friends I've made along this way. My plan is to tag along with the Grace in Small Things crew, and post weekly 5 things or moments of grace plus a photo or two. I know it's meant to be a daily post, but hey now, weekly is going to be a big step up from what I've been doing the past 6, 7, 8 months, right? Right??!

I'll also be posting old-school updates on the girls.

I'm almost frightened by what I've just publicly committed to.

Here goes...

And now it's February

2009-02-12T22:54:00.000-08:00

My poor, sad, neglected little blog...

Thank you to all of you who have sent me notes the past few weeks and wondered, quite kindly, how I am and what my plan was. I am good. We are well. Life is full and funny and sleepless and challenging. The usual. The plan is that I get away for an evening every week to write and catch up and have some time to gather my thoughts properly, but the past 5 or 6 weeks I've discovered that I've been enjoying using that time to just BE. Sitting in a coffee shop open late watching the people coming and going and listening to their sane and strange orders, staring at other people's pets and children, pretending to be completely absorbed in the books I'm reading, enjoying a deliciously uninterrupted and quiet phone call with a friend, and thinking of all the words and thoughts I'd love to put down on paper if only my two hours were magically turned to four.

It feels like the last few weeks have been a time of great untangling.

There were several quite stressful situations in December and January involving several people that we love dearly and then there was good news and then there was worse and then there was good again. All from different places. Am I talking in code? A little. I've only ever openly discussed my immediate family. But we have found true family and community all over and when anyone that we love hurts or hurts someone it tends to weigh very heavily on my heart. And I am finally beginning to learn how to love people without carrying everything that's going on with them. Beginning. It's especially hard to learn this in situations involving children.

What do I mean by untangling...

My heart was so heavy by the year's end and so much kept happening and there just hasn't been enough sleep since a certain (beautiful and intense) person arrived late last summer, and the world seems to be falling to complete shambles all around us, and friend after friend has lost their job, and divorce looms for another, and in my house there is teething and toilet training and almost-three-years-old-dramatic-defiance that for a few weeks there I had a really hard time finding and noticing the good and beautiful. Almost anywhere. And the Great Tiredness that is the early years of parenting wasn't doing me any favors.

But sitting here tonight, in bed next to Jeffrey, with my shiny green laptop and a glass of red wine and for a few minutes. at least, both babies asleep, I realize that I am feeling hopeful again. Mostly because I am learning how to let people and their paths and stories and challenges mark up my heart in a way that doesn't leave me unable to breathe. Compassion and fear sometimes look the same in makeup but...they're very different creatures in the morning.

There is so much I want for this year that my heart nearly bursts with the possibilities. I want three beautiful, wise, funny friends to find the kind of love that makes eloping in Vegas a pretty safe bet. I want a certain beautiful, wise, trustworthy friend to find out she's pregnant. I want talented, smart, and kind friends to find new jobs and ways of supporting their families, ways that somehow can also include time for their families. I want to see my partner and best friend reach more of his goals this year and be rewarded more and more for his hard work. I want to see more community developed between our neighbors and more sharing of resources and knowledge. I want to be faithful with the small amount of time I have with my children and to learn how to use it wisely. I want to be kinder to myself. I want to keep reading more and more. I want to start studying again for doula work. I want to be more disciplined. I want to be more patient.

I keep hearing the word "persevere" over and over and over. Persevere, persevere, persevere. I am working on faithfulness.

Today we learned that another friend's cancer is terminal. This is at least the 5th time in as many years.

This weekend we are celebrating Valentine's Day as a family in a certain way I am hoping becomes another tradition. I will show you pictures and tell you more in a few days.

I will probably still be a bad blogger for a while...

Snow

2008-12-31T00:01:00.000-08:00

There was 5 inches. And then there was almost 3/4” of ice. Then there was at least another 3-4 inches of snow.

And you know, in this part of the world it rains and rains and rains often there is ice and sometimes there is a dusting of snow. But unless you’re up in the hills somewhere or heading up one of the local mountains that’s it.

There hasn’t been this much snow in 40 years. And 40 years ago we got less than this (can't remember off the top of my head). This was record-breaking.

I didn’t leave the house by car in 13 days. By day 14 no house would have been big enough, if you understand me (I kept seeing this in my mind and giggling...) Our city isn’t prepared for this much snow (since it never happens, duh) and of course no one knows how to drive in it so even though I could have dug my car out I didn’t want to put me and the girls at the mercy of the local idiots in SUV's who apparently thought that Big Car equals No Skills Needed.

It was so beautiful. Quiet, deep, still. The dark evenings turned to a late glow and in the mornings the anciently tall fir trees stood around us, holding great handfuls of white. Snow makes everything underneath beautiful.

We walked. We played. Pea built her first snowman.

And her first snow angel.

I walked her down to the school so she could see what the playground looked like buried. Can you believe that she walked the 10 (or so) snowy blocks and then THIS?

This is her face after she’d walked all the way back out. I carried her half the way home,, which was rather exciting on ice-crust with slick-bottomed rain boots and 35 pounds of dead-weight toddler.

Pea loved finding snow chairs everywhere. Perhaps next year, when she’s no longer wearing a diaper, this won’t have the same appeal.

We had groceries delivered, just for the thrill. I baked so many cookies it was almost easy to think about a wheat/sugar/dairy-free January (almost). We had one set of neighbors over for snacks and drinks and more neighbor friends over for dinner.

I checked on still another household to make sure they were warm and had food and medicine (they did, though I brought them cookies anyway) and in the process made new friends and heard some great stories about the land we’re on.

Then it was Christmas Eve and Christmas and then, finally, it started to rain. And it rained and rained and Sunday morning I woke up and felt like I had time-traveled—the snow was almost completely gone.

It won’t happen again this way for years and years and I love that I now have one of those old-timer stories to tell Pea and Birdie. “I remember when you were only this high and we got all that snow…”

Sometimes it's the number of grace

2008-12-30T23:03:00.000-08:00

Sweet Adeleine...

It’s taken me most of the last 5 months to understand that the impressions I had of you, in utero, were and are only half the picture. I was right: you are sensitive. But in a very different way than I had imagined, I confess. You are not shy, you are not so much a thinker, and you are rarely quiet.

What are you, then? Since you are just 5 months completely in this world, I still have only part of the picture. Every day I have the distinct feeling that what I know only gets smaller and smaller as you grow bigger and bigger.

You are quick and fast-moving. You are incredibly strong. Several times your Daddoo and I have nearly dropped you as you have suddenly thrown your little body at something you wanted. You have the highest, shrillest crowing sounds I have ever heard, and every day you wake up by crowing, just like a large tropical bird— eyes still closed, body still on the bed, but mouth open wiiiide as you test your vocal range and volume. You can be heard from anywhere in the house.

You are quick to catch a joke, an upturned eye or voice or laugh. You love to catch strangers by the eye and win them to you with your huge, gummy grins and your spit-up smiles. Your eyebrows are often more expressive than your actual eyes.

You were not born with the deeply-ingrained sense of routine and order that your sister has enjoyed. Though it makes you easy to cart around according to Pea’s schedule, I often worry that I should be working with you more on regular sleep patterns. You’ve had some stellar weeks of sleep and some that I want to haul out to the curb, douse with gasoline and burn.

Lack of sleep is probably the hardest part of Mamahood for me. I feel pretty good about how I’m coming along as a person and Mama until a bad sleep week hits. Then I can barely deal. With anything. I’m sorry that you’ve already experienced so much of this. I’m working hard to get you into a sleep routine that works for your little body but doesn’t leave me glassy-eyed and emotionally irrational. Here’s hoping, kid.

You started crawling on your 5 month birthday, you over-achiever, you. I thought your older sister was going to be my overly-motivated one, but she didn’t crawl till 6.5 months. And when I hold your hands in mine you already pull yourself up to stand on my legs. What, please tell me, do you want with walking?

Your emotions are still really intense. Hot and cold. You are either completely happy or decidedly not. You are either yelling and wailing or asleep. You are either clawing and scratching at me to get out of your carrier or you are making lovey-eyes at the grocery clerk. You are either having blow-outs or nothing.

You have been working hard the past couple months to make your Daddoo’s life a living hell. After initially seeming completely bonded and happy with him, much more so than Sister in the beginning, you have spent the last few weeks thumbing your nose at him if he dares to come anywhere near you, especially if he tries to take you from me. You are beginning to come back around. Slowly. Sometimes it has nearly made me cry—I mean, I HAD a terrible father and here I got you such a nice one, so kind, and you act like the rest of us are crazy. You are a tough nut to crack, sometimes. When your mind is made up it is MADE UP THEN END.

I love you Birdie. I know I’m not always the emotionally calm, centered parent you and Sister deserve, and I know that when I’m too effing tired I raise my voice too much. I’m figuring this out as I go, you know. But never has anything so intense and loud and tiny and funny, all at the same time, won my heart so completely.

It’s a funny thing, you know. I made you. Yet I will spend my whole life in amazement and thrill as I discover, day by week by month by year, who you really are. And I can’t think of a better use of my time.

Somewhere, out there

2008-12-29T23:40:00.000-08:00

I'm still here. It's been a busy last few weeks and I have a lot of catching up to do, but what's new? If you're following me on Twitter you know the best and worst of it, probably. Best? The girls and as funny and feisty as ever and I turned 30. The worst? I'm tired. TIRED. This baby doesn't have the inner routine clock her sister did and so any sleep she gets requires me working HARD for it, especially if I want her to sleep longer than 20 minutes at a time. I'm exhausted. I have lots to show you--we got tons of snow, Christmas happened, we got snowed in for a while, my mom and sis came and stayed with us for a few days, Birdie turned 5 months and she's started crawling. So much. So tired...

What we're reading these days

2008-12-17T21:54:00.001-08:00

A list of some of Pea's favorite books these days. They are getting longer and longer, and even though I have always loved reading to her (I wish we could do it for as long each day as she spends jumping off of things) I am particularly enjoying these new days of books that don't end in 6 or even 12 rhyming pages.

We love the Little Bear books. We read them over and over and somehow they never get old to either her or me (thank goodness).

We also love Arnold Lobel. Pea is sort of meh about Frog and Toad, but she loves Owl at Home and Mouse Soup/Mouse Tales.

And we love, love, love Toot and Puddle. The illustrations are magical, the stories aren't overwritten, and there is wonder on every page. I've heard that there is a Toot and Puddle show and I've also heard that it's nothing nearly as cute and sweet as the books (of course).

Penelope is also a big fan of anything by Robert McCloskey. We read One Morning in Maine over and over and over... I've always thought, from the first ultrasound we had with her, that Pea looks a lot like Sal and I've always called her my Little Sal. And Sal has a little sister, Jane, so Pea like to say that Adeleine is her Little Jane.

In which we get a tree

2008-12-14T11:53:00.000-08:00

Our annual trip to my uncle's Christmas tree farm to get our tree. This year my mom and sister and our friends Sharla and her children Xander and Quinn came too. And my sister's dog. It was a perfect winter day--crisp but not too cold, and later the sun...

Christmas girls

2008-12-12T23:43:00.000-08:00

My feeble attempts at getting a quick but cute holiday photo out of the girls. Getting two kids to smile and hold reasonably still is no small feat. 5 minutes and I was exhausted, too.

And the winning Christmas card shot...

Dark days

2008-12-10T11:30:00.000-08:00

Today Pea climbed up on my bed, where I was sitting nursing "Sitter", and asked me where Jeffrey was. Just like that. Not, "Where's Daddoo?" but "Mama, where Deffey?" And she SAYS it with italics. Hilarious. And she has begun saying "yes" instead of just "yeah" or "ok" to questions, but with the sweetest lisp. Yeth. It's true.

It's been a HARD week. Painful and sleepless. I can't tell you anything other than my little family, the four of us, are ok. And that there is someone in my family who is walking a very dark, painful road right now and could use all of your wishes and prayers. It's someone I love very dearly, and not just because we're related but because I have seen glimpses of the person they are and were always meant to be and it is truly amazing. But recently I had begun to see more and more deeply disturbing behaviour and then...and then things happened and scary things and...

Do you know how I'm praying right now? By singing the songs this person has written--deeply beautiful words, often haunting, right from the soul. And then I say, "Please don't let the dark win..." Because right now that's really all that I can do.

Tonight Birdie sleeps next to me, her breathing a tiny bit snuffly but her croup symptoms slowly, slowly abating. She is calm for the moment, sweet-faced and serene. Pea is tousle-headed and awakened from sleep by her cough. She has come to the door of our room, slowly turning the handle (squeeeek) and blinking in the lamplight, to ask for her cough tincture.

It's almost unbelievable to look at either of my children tonight and imagine that in 10, 20 years they could be sitting in a cold, sterile hospital room somewhere while I am receiving phone calls from friends and family and health professionals telling me that things are not good. And that things haven't been good for a while. And that these things happen, you know.

There are amazing, loving, tender and true friends at every turn. Jeffrey and I find comfort in little moments with the girls and small, simple things like hot water in the cold, dark mornings and remembering to say, "I love you."

("...I have a little bit of faith... Help me believe...")

Cousins!

2008-12-01T11:39:00.000-08:00

Pea and Birdie's cousins, Zion and Brennan, stayed with us this weekend. That's right, you heard me: 4 kids (8, 6, 2.5, -1), under 1 roof, for 2 nights. They haven't stayed with us for more than a couple hours in years and I'm not sure that they've ever stayed the night, much less two.

You know what? It was mostly really, really fun. The parts that weren't are mostly due to the fact that I'm apparently not as interesting or cool or set up for 6 and 8 year-old fun as I should be. We have plenty of toys but they're targeted more for the birth-3 set, and though we have plenty of books they're mostly not the series and/or themes that are currently hip and exciting. Next time I will plan this part a bit better.

Here are the rest of my favorite pics from Cousin Weekend 2008. Note my furiously pouting daughter--these looks are going to keep me laughing a long time, I'm afraid...

Baby Carrot

2008-11-30T22:53:00.000-08:00

Tonight I gave in. Birdie has been grabbing at spoons and forks and stray pieces of bread for the last couple weeks and after consulting at length with our family doctor/Naturopath and doing a bit of reading I realized it really and truly was time to start her on food. I've been a bit conflicted about a LOT of the things I was told (and NOT TOLD, ahem, ahem...) by our former pediatricians (I tried a few, you know) regarding quite a few things and beginning solids is one of them. To make a very long story short, and because I don't really want to go into too many particulars as every family/baby is different, I have decided that she really might be ready already and to not begin with grains this time. Even though rice cereal is supposedly the easiest to digest of all grains, there seems to be little reason to begin babies on this (as opposed to gentle fruits or vegetables) except for the way that it can magically create better and longer sleep by filling their tummy nice and solid. And there are new studies afloat about when, exactly, certain enzymes necessary for digestion of grains become present and questions about babies' early diets and tendencies for juvenile-onset diabetes, etc.

On the advice of a doctor I trust we are beginning with iron rich foods. First up? Carrots. She loved them.

Something very interesting our current (and beloved) doctor told me about introducing food: if baby pushes at the spoon with his/her tongue, then... HE'S NOT READY. His gag reflexes are not developed fully enough to handle food even if all other signs of being ready seem present. No one told me that before. And it seems rather like good info to have, you know?

4 Months

2008-11-28T22:05:00.000-08:00

Baby Birdie Adeleine... You turned 4 months old this week, and every single day you've become cuter, funnier, and more intent on besting your older sister's milestones.

You already love to be held in a standing position, where you can plant your little feet firmly down, lock your knees, and wave your hands wildly about. In fact, whenever you grasp someone's hands, the first thing you do is try to pull yourself up to stand.

You reach for everything that comes anywhere near you, and when you are able to grasp something you do so very intently and very particularly. You roll over and over--back to front, mostly--and when you're on your tiny tummy you can push yourself up high on your little, lady arms and rotate your body slowly around in a circle. When sister is anywhere NEAR you, your little legs tuck up under you and you grunt like you're determined to crawl SOON. I seem to remember telling your sister to please slow down--and I'd tell you the same thing, but it looks like I'm just not going to have a relaxed, laid-back, happy-to-be-a-baby sort of baby. Not unless your Daddoo and I decide to try this baby thing again in a few years, and even then my money would be on "Mover" and "Musical" and "Confident". That seems to be our baby brand.

You are such a kissy, cuddly girl, always coming at me with your mouth open to give me big, slobbery kisses on the mouth and cheeks, and you love to wind your little arms around my neck and get your tiny fists tangled in my hair while you rub your rosy little cheeks against mine. I can always get a smile out of you by rubbing my nose behind your ear and making silly noises about your chin.

At your 4-month appointment we found out that you are just shy of 13 pounds, well over 24 inches long, and that you're hitting all the 6-month developmental goals, minus sitting up by yourself (and don't get any silly ideas, baby).

You can now wriggle out of the tightest swaddle and maneuver out of your sleep positioner so nighttime has been interesting of late. Your Daddoo has found you wide awake in strange positions at the opposite end/side of your crib several nights in a row. Until now, swaddling you securely has been the only way you'll sleep but done right you''ll sleep almost all night. So even though I should be thrilled for you, I'm mostly just sad for me and all the sleep I'm starting to lose again. It's been like a return to the newborn days around here the last couple weeks. Also due to your teething pain, which has necessitated a return to our bed for the entire night instead of just from the early morning hours on. As cozy as it is to snuggle with you for a few hours, I just don't sleep very well when I can't stretch out in normal fashion for any part of the night Sorry if that sounds selfish, but it's the truth.

Your smile, when you first see my face in the morning, just might be the best thing ever--the amazement in your eyes that it's really and truly me, the shrill cries of delight, your long but tiny fingers reaching out to grab my face and hair...

I love you, Birdie. You make me happy every single day.

Thanksgiving

2008-11-27T23:56:00.000-08:00

"I would maintain that thanks are the highest form of thought, and that gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder." (G.K. Chesterton)

A gorgeous roast turkey; sweet potatoes with orange; roasted carrots and parsnips with sage; sourdough dressing with sausage, figs, thyme, and garlic; mashed red potatoes with chives; gravy with cognac and cream; cranberry salad. Oh--and we began with the yearly cheese ball, stuffed olives, two sorts of good salami, squash soup, and soft and chewy rolls with fresh sage. To finish? We are traditionalists: apple and pumpkin pies, with what I'm pretty sure were the best pie crusts I've ever had (and I am really picky about crust), made by my brother. (Ladies? He plays music and bakes pies...hmmmm?)

We worked on a big puzzle. We drank SO much French press coffee. We were a smaller group this year, but it was relaxing and calm. We laughed and played with the babies. We thought about the year that's coming to a close and everything good and bad and hard and stressful and happy and unexpected that happened. And felt thankful.

And I felt very happy and content (and tired).

Hope you all had a lovely, peaceful day with people you love and who love you in return.

This week

2008-11-26T23:20:00.000-08:00

The last couple weeks of Pea suddenly not sleeping well at night, coming into our bed between 2 and 3am, and then waking a good hour earlier than her normal 8 o'clock, have been rough. Add in a baby who is beginning to teethe and has had to be back in our bed in order for us to not be up every hour and who tends to wake quite a bit earlier when sister is also in the bed and rolling around and kissing and hugging her against all passionately-whispered parental directions. That and a busy (and compacted) week of work for Jeffrey. It all equals "aaaarrrrgggghhh." I am TIRED. Behind on blogging. Staring at the half-painted walls of my bedroom, a project I began several weeks ago, wondering when, exactly, I am ever going to have the time or energy before the year's end. And whenever I'm this tired other things start piling on: I feel huge and still enormously post-partum, I'm way behind on getting more regular massages, I'm behind on the reading I want to be doing personally, my patience with Pea is thin and feeling more so every day, I'm feeling even fatter, I still haven't organized our closet properly, our garage needs a LOT of help if it's ever going to have that playroom, I should be doing more crafts with Pea, I keep forgetting to fit in 20 minutes of daily exercise...

I'm tired.

Sisters

2008-11-24T22:32:00.000-08:00

Sunday

2008-11-23T23:51:00.001-08:00

The weekend was nice, you know. The house was thoroughly cleaned. Most of the Thanksgiving shopping is done and household items are restocked. The girls' Christmas order arrived--we're only buying for the children this year, including family, and it's such a relief and so much more to the point. We got to hang out with some new (and quite lovely) friends for Pea's dear friend Adam's birthday party (she calls him "Annam!") and we had the best time. Jeffrey's car is now the proud owner of new tires and brakes. I have freshly cut and colored hair. And I have half-emptied the kitchen pantry (again) in the hopes of (finally) figuring out the best way to organize this large, square space. I'm half-way done and of course I have a seriously full day tomorrow, complete with company for dinner, so I will have to rush around to figure the rest out pretty quickly. Oh, and Jeffrey installed a new shelf in the kitchen so I could move some of my small vintage-y things off the counters. Pictures, eventually.

It was good. It was full. Birdie turned 4 months today. I'm working on a post for her that will catch you all (and one day, her) up to speed... She's still just the sweetest thing I've ever seen or met. It's been a while since I've written Pea a little letter, too, so I'm hoping to get to that soon, too.

Tomorrow begins bright and early and if I get a solid night of sleep I will be pleasantly surprised. But mostly surprised. Off I go...

Meme

2008-11-22T23:12:00.000-08:00

I wasn't tagged but here I go.

1. Political show - Daily Show but online.

2. Picnic food - Fruit, cheese, bread, and chocolate.

3. Mixed drink - Sidecar. Absolutely. Unless I'm in the mood for a mojito.

4. U.S. President - Well, Andrew Jackson always did seem rather intense.

5. Kind of student to teach - Just my children, for now. At some point I want to teach natural birthing classes, though, and work in birth education and advocacy.

6. Hobby you do or wish you still did - Knitting. Really want to relearn.

7. Sports commentator - Nope.

8. Sport to watch on TV - Olympics and University of Oregon football. That's it. And not very often.

9. Animal to have as pet - I can be easily persuaded dog or cat. I like Crummy Cupcake's rules about all things caged, though.

10. Halloween costume you have worn - White-trash bride. Dress with a skirt up to THERE, fake tattoos of cats and barbed wire, electric blue press-on nails, black hair-metal wig, foil-covered plate of sliced up Twinkies (wedding cake)... Scary and amazing.

11. Kind of dessert - Gelato. Or really good bread pudding. Or panna cotta. Or my brother's apple pie. Just so you know, I put chocolate in a class all its own.

12. Comic strip - Calvin and Hobbes forever.

13. Style or make of footwear - Flip-flops. Black. And really high heels, if only my post-baby feet agreed...

14. Ice cream flavor - Toasted coconut sesame brittle. Pretty much the best thing ever. But I'd settle for some pistachio gelato or nectarine sorbetto.

15 College or university president - Why?

16. Internet news source - NPR. And Andrew Sullivan.

17. Vacation spot- The sea. Anyplace near or on it.

18. Wine - Red or white, but mostly red.

19. Way to waste time instead of working - Facebook, of course. And reading blogs.

20. Student excuse for late work - Nothing ever worked. I was home schooled and my mother always knew where we were and what we were up to.

21. Reality show - Not usually a fan. The Amazing Race is alright, when I have time.

22. Jewelry on a man - If it's not a wedding band or a nice watch or every now and then a cool bracelet, you probably shouldn't. There are always exceptions but rarely.

23. Pizza topping - I'm open. My favorite late-summer creation is freshly made dough topped with sauteed zucchini and garlic, thinly-sliced ham or prosciutto, and mozzarella. I also love Kalamata olives with fresh or dried tomatoes, fresh basil, feta, and artichokes.

24. Children's movie - Babe.

25. Celebrity you wish would retire - Too many to list here. But let's start with Tom Cruise.

I'm not tagging anyone. It's the weekend.

On the wagon, I swear

2008-11-21T20:50:00.000-08:00

So I know it looks like I totally skunked out on the whole NaBloPoMo thing, but hear me out. I have blogged a straight 19 days, which is probably more than I blogged the last 3 months (you can check me on this, I'm too tired), and I'M NOT DONE YET. I'm not doing this for the prizes, anyway--I'm doing this so I'll write more in real life and compose fewer amazing posts (complete with pictures, natch) in my head. As my friend's middle school teacher used to say, "It's not over til the fat lady sings. And I'm not fat!" I'm still in this, yo. Maybe not technically speaking, but I'm keeping the badge on my blog to remind me to keep at it. And when the month is over I'm going to put up another badge, of my own making, that says something along the lines of, "I really need to do this more often, starting NOW."

Thank you to everyone who's been stopping by. A lot of you aren't leaving comments (ahem, Utah and Montana readers...) but I trust that you're reading me because you actually care--and not so you can steal pictures of my girls and pass them off as your own.

More comes tomorrow. Try not to fall off the edge of those seats.

What frightens night devils away

2008-11-19T23:58:00.000-08:00

The Marriage Bed

The marriage-bed is the center of happiness,
a point from which all things ripple outward,
a nest from which all things learn to fly.
It is the sign of return, part of the great rhythm
of the seasons and of the years.
It is the dream of return, the strength and faith
that sing of home.
It is the wren’s nest woven of twigs and string,
the swallow’s nest of saliva and mud.
It is what we return to, as migratory birds
passing over marshes and fields
dream of the end of the journey.
It is what frightens night-devils away,
even in winter.
It is the tree that grows through the house,
the hollow of the tree that has never known death.
It is the crystal of all feeling, the flower of all
understanding, the small containing the large.
It is the nautilus growing its many chambers of love.
It is the sudden outburst of one who has long been silent.
It is the idea that a calla lily can be shaped
like a wineglass on a long green stem.
It is the heart-stone.
It is the name of all names
that thinks it is a star and a rose.
It is a conch-shell rough on the outside,
pearly in its intimacy.
It is a snail rolling over and over
building a staircase.
It is an animal, an almond, a repose.
It is an oyster opening in the full of the moon.
It is a mouth telling a secret.
It is a kiln where clay battles fire.
It is the simple happiness of sleeping on a boat.
These are the walls we’ve pressed back into a circle
in the shape of our merged bodies
And it will take a long time for the waves
spreading from the center of our intimacy
to reach the ends of the world.

--By Michael Simms, from The Happiness of Animals

Zoo

2008-11-18T23:01:00.000-08:00

Favorite pictures from our trip to the zoo with our friends (and neighbors!) Nate, Tammi, and Josiah. They came over for dinner the night before and then also introduced us to a great and new-to-us coffee shop on the way to the zoo. Such a fun weekend and so much relaxed, funny conversation.

Birdie looks like she had her coffee, too.

Pea, mid-jump. She's pretty happy to be here.

The seals were so close today and for once the viewing area wasn't crowded.

Disregard my fat-looking pointy-fingered arm. I just really like Birdie's little face here, looking over at her Daddoo.

And then the polar bears swam up close, too, over and over and over. It was the best day I ever remember having at the zoo, animal-wise.

Sandwich break. Pea is going to hate us for this one day, but we LOVE taking pictures of her eating. She just really gets into it. Especially anything that includes ham or bacon.

I can't even handle the way this kid walks. Those arms are out of control.

She's looking like such a big, grown-up girl to me these days.

Laughing because she told Jeffrey that a certain picture of a Red Ape looked like Uncle. I'm pretty sure Jeffrey fed her her lines but it was still pretty hilarious.

On the train, her favorite part. She is completely fascinated by trains and loves "mokestacks", train whistles, and anything engine or caboose.

Sweetness. I love that you can see how smiley her eyes are--you really don't need to see her mouth to find the smile with this one.

Covered in Pirate Booty and so so SO happy to be on the "tain"!

Elephant Ear. Tell me--what,exactly, is there NOT to love about fried dough and cinnamon and sugar? And this one was particularly good.

Penelope and Josiah. She's not quite sure what to do with him as he's not a fragile baby and yet he's not big enough to chase her around. So she stares at him a lot and basically tries to provoke him.

The sweet baby elephant that was born just a few weeks after Adeleine. My dear friend Jess and I were actually watching Brandi Carlile sing at the zoo as the Mama elephant was in labor...such a good memory.

Sick Day

2008-11-17T22:30:00.000-08:00

You would never guess,

looking at these photos,

that both subjects have massive head colds and one of them was mighty cranky

for most of the day.

But it's all true and more. Much coughing and whining and gallons of snot and acres of tissue and more whining and gnashing of teeth and forced rest and forced fluids and finally, at almost bedtime, we decided to become human again.

I am exhausted. I have a heavy, sleeping babe in my arms that's about to be tucked securely into bed and then it's lights out for me.

2008-11-16T23:44:00.000-08:00

I will show you our zoo pics tomorrow. Promise. Too tired to deal with all the loading and ordering and and cutting and pasting.

Instead--a list of words, the ones I love (not counting my daughters' names) and the ones I loathe.

Loved:

Dusk
Kiss
Crisp
Lovely
Fragile
Indigo
Liturgy
Kangaroo
Caramelized
Ordinary
Appaloosa
Cerulean
Iridescent
Elephantine

Mama

Loathed:

Fleshy
Moist
Fondle

And when people (who shall remain nameless) pronounce familiar "framiliar" and mischievous "mischeevious". Now I sound like a snob. But it's true.

Saturday

2008-11-15T23:59:00.000-08:00

We took the girls to the zoo today. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow.

Extracto

2008-11-14T23:40:00.000-08:00

A couple of Saturday mornings ago, at our favorite coffee shop...

Two stories

2008-11-13T21:19:00.000-08:00

Two Penelope stories I love to tell:

1) Sometime in September, I remember that Birdie was still awfully tiny, we were at our local Lowe's looking at paving stones and seed for our yard/front garden. Pea was in the cart, Birdie was in her sling, and we were waiting while Jeffrey took a look at some grass seed options. I was talking with Pea to keep her happy and help her patience and right then in the middle of whatever it was we were chattering about a man walked over to the shelf across the aisle from us. He was quite tall, had long, black braids and was black. Pea turned her head to see who had walked by, and suddenly said very loudly, "Mama! Dat man look like Uncle!" He turned his head, a smile on his face, and then smiled even wider when he saw who had said it-- and her red-haired Mama.

I was so proud my heart just about jumped outside my body. We might live in the notoriously white suburbs and we may not currently have a ton of friends who look different from us, but my daughter saw him as just another man who was tall and had a friendly face and brown eyes. Just like her uncle.

2) Today in the car as we drove to the library she wanted to talk about traffic lights. These days she just says, "Mama--talk about...(whatever it is she wants to hear about that minute--hospitals, birds, fire, grocery stores, cameras.) I asked her if she remembered what the red light meant and she said, "Stop!" I asked her if she remembered what the green light meant and she said, "Go!" Then I asked her if she had any idea what the yellow light meant and she thought and she thought and then she ventured a guess: "Go Ducks?!"

That's called: How to Make Daddoo's Night.

Good

2008-11-12T22:44:00.000-08:00

Today was very satisfying, I must say. I managed to wake up before Penelope, bundle a very cozy and just-awakened and crowing-like-a-little-chicken Baby Birdie into her swing, and take a deliciously relaxed shower. I had a coffee on and emails read and breakfast sitting on the counter by the time I heard Pea whimpering at the top of the stairs. Then we ran around for a bit, getting girlies dressed and fed and changed and faces washed, before we were off to see good friends. The next few hours were spent in much talking and laughing and children and coffee and lunch and more talking. And then I bundled Pea and Birdie back into the car on this very wet and blustery day and get us home just in time for naps and oh, sweet Jesus, they napped so well today! At the same time! I even got to sleep for about 40 minutes and it was so nice to have nothing to do but just lie down next to a warm little baby body while the weather thrashed and poured outside the windows.

I'm learning, hopefully not too late, that there is usually nothing that really needs doing more than taking a few quiet moments every day with her. She just gets sweeter and funnier and more kissable as each day goes by.

Just got off the phone with my friend Karli, who is out of the hospital, thank goodness, and doing much, much better. I've been really worried about her so it was good to hear that things are turning around.

More good things planned for tomorrow. New friends over for lunch and play times. This weather, people--this weather is complete shit. Spitting rain, standing water on all the roads and slippery leaves under everything, and blustery wind that rattles the windows and shakes the doors. The beautiful, clear-skied fall is officially over for another year.

Sisters

2008-11-11T22:30:00.000-08:00

Gratefully

2008-11-10T22:57:00.000-08:00

Things that fill me with gratitude this evening...

1) An email from a long-lost friend. She sounds happy and loved and I am so relieved and so glad and so glad to know that she hasn't forgotten me. She was the only friend I had for several ever so long and lonely years, and if that sounds melodramatic then come, sit a spell. I'll tell you a few stories that may end in grace but start out rather chilling.

2) Friends made along the blogging way. Some of you I now know in real life and some I don't, but your open hearts and kind words always come at the perfect moment.

3) A baby sleeping deeply beside me. She has crazy, wispy hair and a big bald patch on one side of her head and she is absolutely stunning to me.

4) A partner and husband who is striving to be faithful in small things; who doesn't give up easily and who is fiercely protective.

5) The sudden realization yesterday, as I was thinking ahead to Advent, that the mystery of the Incarnation is not just a story of a baby born a long time ago in a barn, as extraordinary as even that is. It's the story of a god who always shows up in the middle of our pain; who can exist inside of it along with us, and who is willing to physically experience it with us. I am lost without this.

6) The knowledge that as early and fast as morning will come, there will be a steaming press pot of fragrant coffee to ease me into the day and the only person making the schedule is me. This just might be why I could never ever work for someone else again. (I mean happily, of course.)

7) Night trains. Always the night trains. I can't explain to you so I won't. But the sound of the far-away whistle is listened for every night and it wraps around my dreams and somehow ties me to both childhood dreams and the beautiful present and...well, I don't know. It's like a nightly reminder of how safe and happy and longed-for this life is.

Just do it

2008-11-09T23:28:00.000-08:00

A list from McSweeney's.

With gratitude, as I'm far too tired too write anything intelligible tonight.

FIFTY YEARS
OF POPULAR SONGS
CONDENSED INTO
SINGLE SENTENCES

By Mark Haynes

- - - -

The Beatles, "I Want to Hold Your Hand"

I want to do it with you.

- - - -

Marvin Gaye, "Let's Get It On"

I want to do it with you.

- - - -

Led Zeppelin, "Whole Lotta Love"

I want to do it with you.

- - - -

James Blunt, "You're Beautiful"

I want to do it with you.

- - - -

Sir Mix-a-Lot, "Baby Got Back"

I want to do it.

- - - -

Elvis Presley, "Hound Dog"

You're doing it with everyone.

- - - -

R. Kelly, "I Believe I Can Fly"

I believe I want to do it with you.

- - - -

Patsy Cline, "Crazy"

I want to do it with you so much I'm going fucking nuts.

- - - -

Frank Sinatra, "Strangers in the Night"

I'm drunk and I want to do it with you.

- - - -

The White Stripes, "My Doorbell"

Using metaphor, I want to do it with you.

- - - -

Little Richard, "Good Golly Miss Molly"

I'm doing it with Miss Molly, and she's totally into it.

- - - -

Duran Duran, "Rio"

I'd love to do that chick dancing on the sand.

- - - -

The Beatles, "Why Don't We Do It in the Road?"

I'd like to do it with you right now.

- - - -

Carly Simon, "You're So Vain"

We used to do it, but then you did it with someone else, and now I'm not going to do it with you, although I wish we were still doing it.

- - - -

Pulp, "Common People"

I once met a stuck-up European who wanted to do it with me.

- - - -

Radiohead, "Creep"

I'm filled with self-loathing, and, though outwardly I hate everything you represent, I want to do it with you.

- - - -

Kate Bush, "Wuthering Heights"

I'm an 18th-century fictional character and I want to do it with another 18th-century fictional character.

- - - -

Bob Dylan, "Blowin' in the Wind"

The Man is currently doing it to you.

- - - -

Elvis Presley, "Jailhouse Rock"

Incarcerated men will on occasion do it with each other.

- - - -

Meat Loaf, "I Would Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That)"

Hey! You won't believe what this one chick said while I was doing it with her!

- - - -

Kings of Leon, "Sex on Fire"

I did it with you, and now it hurts when I pee.

- - - -

Céline Dion, "My Heart Will Go On"

Even your death has not stopped me wanting to do it with you.

- - - -

AC/DC, "You Shook Me All Night Long"

We did it yesterday.

- - - -

Fifty Years of Popular Songs Condensed Into Single Sentences By Marc Haynes

This is the sort of thing Jeffrey and I laugh til we're hoarse over. If you want to imagine what it's like at our house after the babies are asleep, well... Now you know.

I'll write something for real tomorrow. All going well.

Morning

2008-11-08T23:44:00.000-08:00

Eating breakfast. Standing at the window and watching the "wooker guys" working on the street behind us.

Compare and Contrast

2008-11-07T16:17:00.000-08:00

Both girls at 3 months old.

Penelope

Adeleine

Different eyes, nose, chin, cheeks, hair line, skin, eyebrows, hair, etc. etc.

And yet they look like sisters.

What my father called Squish

2008-11-06T22:25:00.000-08:00

Smokey Squash Soup

1/4 cup olive oil
2-3 lbs squash (Kabocha, butternut, Kuri, sweet is good)
1 sweet potato, halved
2 onions,peeled and quartered
8 sprigs thyme
2 cups water
2 TBSP thyme,chopped
1 TBSP smoked paprika (sweet)
2 cups apple cider
1 TBSP salt
water
1/2 lb pepper bacon,chopped and cooked crisp
1/2 cup amber beer
salt and pepper to taste

Preheat oven to 400 F. Brush the bottom of a baking pan with 2 TBSP olive oil and set aside. Halve the squash through the stem ends. Brush the cut surface with olive oil. Place the squash on the baking pan cut side down. Put onions, thyme,sweet potato, remaining oil and salt and pepper in a bowl and toss. Put on baking sheet with squash. Pour the water into the pan, cover with aluminum foil, and bake for 40 minutes. Uncover and bake 15 minutes more.

When the squash is cool enough to handle, remove seeds, skin and thyme sprigs. Scoop out the flesh into a bowl with the onions and sweet potato.

In batches in a blender, combine squash,onions, sweet potato, smoked paprika, salt, cider, fresh thyme, and puree til smooth. Stir in beer and bacon.

Reheat gently and adjust seasonings. May stir in cream at the end for a creamier soup (but it doesn't need it so I didn't do it and and it was perfectly creamy on its own).

Garnish with creme fraiche or sour cream and fresh thyme. Or serve it up with spiced and caramelized nuts and fresh pear slices. Or little toasts with Gruyere. Or whatever sounds good to you, or whatever you have.

I served it tonight very simply, with cinnamon-topped oatmeal muffins on the side. And I roasted extra squash to use later in some fall-themed pizzas... I'll show you when they're made. If they turn out.

Patience

2008-11-05T23:18:00.000-08:00

Emotional day, today. Pea is just ALL OVER THE PLACE--up, down, and sideways--and often in the space of an hour. And she's suddenly fighting her afternoon lodge (nap without the "n" word) even though she needs it so. As a result, I am exhausted and feel like I've just been dragging the baby around from episode to episode, with no significant interaction. But then if I sit down with the baby and just look at her or talk with her for longer than 5 minutes, I feel like I'm neglecting Pea and that's probably why she's acting out (again). I'm exhausted and feel like I have an emotional hangover. The more Pea pushes me the more I love her--truly. But in the moment, in the minutes when I'm trying to (quickly, quickly) figure out what I should do or how best to handle the particular situation, I just feel so frustrated and mostly just aware of my own capacity for anger and impatience. And I feel like I'm neglecting Birdie somehow. I can't win. I'm tired.

But here is a lovely poem for today. I am in need of some beauty after the hours I've just lived. And I love almost anything with the word "ordinary".

The Patience of Ordinary Things

It is a kind of love, is it not?
How the cup holds the tea,
How the chair stands sturdy and foursquare,
How the floor receives the bottoms of shoes
Or toes. How soles of feet know
Where they're supposed to be.
I've been thinking about the patience
Of ordinary things, how clothes
Wait respectfully in closets
And soap dries quietly in the dish,
And towels drink the wet
From the skin of the back.
And the lovely repetition of stairs.
And what is more generous than a window?

--Pat Schneider

Tuesday

2008-11-04T22:41:00.000-08:00

I've felt really sick yesterday and today and the baby is finally (finally!) asleep so I'm going to make this short and head to bed.

What a DAY, people... I really, really hope we can all come together and heal this beautiful country of ours.

Do you know what Pea can do now? Besides peddling her little bicycle, which is also amazing to me. She can blow bubbles!!!

Oh. Apparently the baby was just teasing me. She's awake. Crap.

What Pea and I made

2008-11-03T20:45:00.000-08:00

Baby sleeping, miraculously, at the perfect point in the evening so Pea and I begin...

Kneading and rolling dough...

Gathering toppings, chopping and sauteing...

Layering tomatoes, basil, olives, and artichokes; sauteed zucchini, garlic, basil and natural Canadian bacon...

Yum.

Halloween '08

2008-11-02T20:50:00.000-08:00

She's been wearing this for almost a month for daily dress-up times. She mostly likes to put it on when she can lie on the ground and have me "scatch" her pink tummy, though the other big hit is the "wookers" (whiskers). There are also pants, with feet (paws), but these are rarely worn. She's not a big pants person, as it is.

Birdie went as...herself. And we all went trick-or-treating for the first time since Penelope was born. Lots and lots of fun, most especially as her cousins Zion and Brennan came too (along with Auntie Jess and Uncle Jordan). Good, good memories and her candy is getting turned into carousel tickets so that solved that. She was completely and utterly blown away that all we had to do was knock on people's doors and out poured the candy. Now to re-train the stranger fear...

Pretty excited about Tuesday. Which means I've now gotten political... TWICE. Oh, SNAP.

November

2008-11-01T08:57:00.000-07:00

I love Saturday mornings. Jeffrey's home and even if we don't have actual plans we always have fun all together. Sometimes we have more fun if we have nothing to do. Jeffrey and I have always been that way. Our favorite dates have always been just getting in the car at night and driving for a few hours--talking, perhaps with coffee, laughing, stars shining in through the car windows... This weekend is actually pretty full.

I am attempting to do NaBloPomo again. Let's see if I can actually do it all 30 days instead of 28 or 29 and then completely spacing. Last year I got pregnant and then violently ill, and that's not exactly on the table for this year (not for another 2 years at least!) so maybe it can happen. I have no idea what I'm going to talk about for all 30 days. The last two years I've had some ideas jotted down for days when my brain doesn't work and that was with only ONE child--who knows what sort of drivel will get posted this year...?

Penelope is exactly two years and one half today. Right now she's drumming on the garbage can lid with two chopsticks.

I should go shower and start this day. I want some time with my little family before everything else begins.

Why I Vote

2008-10-28T22:27:00.000-07:00

Everyone's already said all the Big Things on and about both sides of this Presidential race. I'm certainly not going to try to say anything new or different. It's already a bit strange to me that I'm going to post about the election at all. In fact, I try to be as unpolitical as possible on this blog, as it's mostly about my children and family--something that I really don't want muddied up by the sort of emotions politics can arouse in people. Same reason I don't really talk much about religion or faith, even though I consider myself a thoughtful, conflicted Christian. I try to talk here about the life I'm actually living with my family, and the things I'm doing day to day. Most of the time I figure that if you really want to dig down into all the why's and how's of me then you probably just need to get to know me in real life. I feel the same about you.

Politics and religion like to use big, scary words that can mean all sorts of different things depending on the speaker or user and the thought of trying to constantly explain myself is exhausting. And pointless. Friendship, relationship and empathy are the things that really have the power to change the world. Government always fails in the end.

So here is my twenty-five cents. Mostly for my daughters, who will read this one day. Do I really think a new President is going to mean instant improvement or a suddenly new and better direction for our country? No. We've had eight years of a certain kind of special and then there's our general history, as a nation made up of flawed humans, of taking a long time to do the right thing regarding pretty much ANYTHING. If we ever do get around to it. (See also: Native Americans, slavery, women's rights, hate crimes, etc. etc.) At the same time I never want to take for granted the unique privilege our founding fathers gave us by participating in this democracy with my vote. Much less the many women who fought hard and risked everything in order to be granted a voice in their nation's and families' future. I am a woman. I would be dishonoring them and their blood, tears, bruises, and broken bones if I didn't also participate. I hope my daughters will always have an equal voice and say in their future and in their country.

The other reason I vote is this: I have a firm conviction, from which I cannot be moved, that human life can't be divided up into little boxes with a different price tag on each. You can't be pro-life and pro-war, anti-abortion and pro-death penalty. It's impossible. Life is either valuable to you or it's not. Or you should at least use the term Pro-Certain-Types-of-Life. What's the morality in bringing human beings into this world that our society refuses to care for? When are we going to start treating poverty as the real epidemic, not abortions chosen by women in serious crisis? When are we going to start dealing with the root causes of our country's problems, instead of trying to put a moral band-aid on everything? When are we going to face up to the scary realities of incest, abuse, children that go to sleep hungry every night, children with no chance of health care, children who experience violence from the moment they are born with no one to protect them or cry out on their behalf, children who are natural targets for prostitution, child-pornography, and worse...? When are we going to evolve as a society and world beyond killing each other as a way of proving our point? Probably never. Certainly not soon enough, it's already far past too late.

But I vote because I won't give up the hope that the America I love, this vast expanse of wealth and resources and eternal optimism, will one day face head-on these injustices and have the courage to make real and significant changes. It's not something that can be mandated, though. People would actually have to just start DOING IT. And America is pretty self-absorbed so it's probably a foolish hope. In the meantime I'm trying to do what I can with my own small moment in time--making friends, connecting people with resources, listening to people's stories, telling my own story of survival and hope, trying to find middle ground and peace with others, and raising my girls to believe that every human being deserves to be loved and cared for.

Please vote. And when you do, think of the women who braved torment and ridicule, rape and beatings, in order to grant you this great privilege.

Adeleine turns 90 (days)

2008-10-21T00:04:00.000-07:00

Baby Birdie Adeleine is now 3 months old. This time I'm not going to ask where the time has gone because I know. It has moved stickily slow on the bad days (the puking, constipated, screaming, inconsolable ones) and then flown by on wings of cotton tulle on the good ones (the happy, peaceful, soft-tummied, pooping ones).

She is getting so big. So far she's long and lean like her sister was, but different somehow. Somehow softer and squishier, even though she's not exactly a chub. Her hands and feet seem really big to me. She's longer-bodied so far, but not to the extreme that Pea was.

Her funny, wispy hair just gets longer and longer. That is, the parts that aren't falling out in patches. I call it her Baby Mange.

She's just started blowing bubbles and she's very particular with her vocalizations. She absolutely has different sounds for different needs, and instead of just crying she has these little half-formed sounds that she makes in with her cries. She tends to sound like a really frustrated, anciently-old lady. It's so cute and funny.

She continues to be a champion night time sleeper. The daytime thing, though, is beyond me. She will almost always fall right to sleep in her stretchy fleece sling--it's still her favorite place--and sometimes she will sleep for a couple of hours tightly swaddled and in a sleep positioner so she feels nice and secure.

But some days she hardly sleeps till evening and by then we are a both a pretty (desperate) picture.

She is starting to connect a bit more with Jeffrey and not be so incensed at the thought of anyone but me holding her (especially if I'm within sight or smell) but some days are decidedly better than others. Pea and Jeffrey are such good buddies now and Birdie is becoming a good little companion, so most of the time I'm more than happy to always have her with me. Every now and then I'll try to sneak out for an hour to Target or to try on some clothes when I don't have to nurse or negotiate every time she sees my breasts, and Jeffrey is wonderful to let me do this occasionally, but it's not usually a fun time for anyone but me.

She's still sweet as can be, with sparkly blue eyes and the best, crooked-mouth smiles and one-eyebrow-up grins. I am in love with her happy noises and squeals and her sloppy, slobbery-mouthed hand-chewing.

She is just starting to pull her little legs up under her, when she's on her tummy, and even tilting a bit to one side so it's possible that rolling over isn't far away (*sigh*). Today she was so desperate to figure out how to reach out and touch her sister and finally, after trying for a long, long time, she got one hand, very deliberately, over onto Pea's arm. The look of relief and accomplishment on her face was intense.

Every time Penelope even looks her way her face lights up. Pea has no idea what she's in for--a permanent shadow, for sure.

And as for me, things are getting better. It's lots and lots of work, obviously, but so far the combo of vitamins, herbs, and hormones is helping. A lot. I feel like I'm slowly coming out of the fog. I'm also finding that on the days I find time to read a little, even two pages, or take the shower I've been wanting, even a fast one, I feel less intense and dark. It means, of course, letting go of other things (like just letting the house fall completely to shit for the day, or trying to go anywhere) but the feeling of stealing a tiny piece of time just for myself seems to make everything else fall together in the end.

I love my girls so so so much. I feel so lucky to be Mama to them and be entrusted with their little hearts and lives. I had never really thought about having a girl, much less TWO, but it's funny how god knows exactly what your own heart needs in order to split wide open and then start to heal. I'm not saying it couldn't have happened any other way. I'm just saying that I've gone from being terrified to being deeply grateful that this is what was granted me...

As imperfectly as I do this motherhood thing, as dark as some of the days can get, as frustrating as the details of it can be, still, I am deeply happy and fiercely in love with my little family...

4 Things

2008-10-20T23:27:00.000-07:00

One of these is hard to watch. Please, please, please do so anyway. (Do you really want to be insulated and safe forever?)

One of these is challenging and hopeful. Please don't take it lightly. (Do you really want to be sarcastic and jaded about every single thing? Really?)

One of these things is brilliant and well-said. Read it anyway. (Even if you normally prefer your poetry in rhyming couplets. Or haiku. Or whatever.)

And the last thing is just plain old pretty. This is the only one you're allowed to ignore. (Because she's mine and I'm keeping her. And also because I EXPECT you to find your own child more beautiful. If you don't, you should probably go talk to someone...)

And, now...

The 4 Things:

1

Call and Response

2

3

Easter Morning

Maybe someone comes to the door and says,
“Repent,” and you say, “Come on in,” and it’s
Jesus. That’s when all you ever did, or said,
or even thought, suddenly wakes up again and
sings out, “I’m still here,” and you know it’s true.
You just shiver alive and are left standing
there suddenly brought to account: saved.

Except maybe that someone says, “I’ve got a deal
for you.” And you listen, because that’s how
you’re trained—they told you, “Always hear both sides.”
So then the slick voice can sell you anything, even
Hell, which is what you’re getting by listening.
Well, what should you do? I’d say always go to
the door, yes, but keep the screen locked. Then,
while you hold the Bible in one hand, lean forward
and say carefully, “Jesus?”

--William Stafford

4

There, now. Aren't you glad you saw all of it?

Here we are

2008-10-12T16:22:00.000-07:00

Where do I begin? Of course it's been a while (again). There's so much daily life tumbling around in my head and heart and then below that is a deep river of emotions. Sometimes the words just won't come out. Easily.

I just start to feel like I'm getting used to this new level of the word "tired"...and then--oh, wait, here we go--up another notch it goes. But mostly things are good. Settling down, you could say. There are lots and lots of tiny, perfect moments every single day. Beauty. There is also just enough insanity to make me feel really, really good about that tiny hormone pill I take every morning.

Penelope continues to love Sister, and she can be very intense about it. I lose track, throughout the day, of how often I've said, "Let her breathe--let her breathe!" and, "Don't hug her quite so tight, Bug, she knows you love her..."

Yesterday, Birdie was in her little Baby Papasan seat while I was brushing my teeth (I was trying to get us out the door first thing in the morning, which is always a bit tricky.) She started crying and then a moment later Pea was next to her, kneeling on the carpet and gently twisting the pacifier into Baby's mouth, just the way I always do it. I smiled at them over my toothbrush, Birdie still staring worriedly at me. "Look, Mama", Pea said and nestled her face close, "I taking care of her."

My hormones have been out of control since Birdie was a few weeks old. I started ovulating right away, if you can believe it. The same thing happened after Pea was born but I let myself be convinced that it was probably because Pea had put herself on a super regular nursing schedule when she was only a few weeks old and was going long night time stretches from early on. You know what? It's just the way I am, apparently. I only wish I could take some of this crazy fertility and rub it on some of my friends. Lord knows I'd share. My doctor told me that another century ago I'd have 12 children, easy. When I protested (the depression! The 20 years of sleepless nights!) and said I'd probably also be out of my MIND, she reminded me that a lot of my friends would be in similar circumstances so how would anyone know...? And to be grateful that I live now. Really makes you want to go back in time, eh? But it's not just ovulating early that's a problem. In fact, that's not even the main problem. It's the deep, dark places my mind has been going. Not suicidal and not in terms of harming the children in any way. But dark all the same. Still, hearing my midwife use the term "depression" felt a little like a slap across the cheek. A good slap, though. A wake-up slap. A "don't try to do this by yourself like you always do" slap. After a long chat with my doctor, in which I actually started crying (but I've cried a lot since this baby, so it's not really anything new), I took home a bunch of vitamins and herbs and instructions and I'm to see her again in a few weeks. What, exactly, is going on is still to be determined, but I'm finally addressing a health issue I've had for a long time from the physical side of things. I've done lots of therapy and emotional work over the years and I will be doing more soon but I've never really tackled these things in terms of my physical DNA. Like everything, it's going to take a while. I just want to be a better mother, you know? To stop holding myself to standards that are unattainable. To be able to stay in the moment and not have my brain spin completely out of control. To have more energy. To lose the black cloud that I'm always trying to outrun...

The other morning I decided that I needed sleep more than absolutely anything. I brought some of Penelope's toys and books into my room, got her a snack and something to drink, put the safety gate up at the top of the stairs, and put an Elmo DVD on repeat. Birdie had fallen asleep and I was attempting to have her nap in her crib so that I could sleep and Pea wouldn't wake her, etc., but she kept popping awake every time I would finally start to nod off. (Of course she did--because this is what parenting often looks like till your kids are at least 3 or 4: finally falling deeply, hungrily asleep only to be zapped awake by blood-curdling screams through the monitor.) After about an hour of working gently with her I came into my room one last time and fell asleep. Deep, exhausted, emotional sleep. Suddenly my eyes opened as I realized I was hearing her in the monitor. My tired brain finally registered that I had slept for a whole hour and 10 minutes--a miracle--but as I turned my head to look for Pea I realized the door was open. And she had been told that under no circumstances while Mama was asleep was she to leave the room (I'm always worried about her walking outside or accidentally hurting the baby). In a second I was through the door and in Adeleine's room, where I saw a whispering Penelope standing on the side of the crib and holding a stuffed animal just where Birdie could see it and coo and smile. "Pea", I said, breathless, "what are you doing, Baby? Did Sister wake up?" Pea nodded. "Soutter waked up and crying so Pea making her happy so Mama can sleep. Mama really tired." I started crying. Because I WAS so very tired, but also because I was so tired I hadn't heard little Birdie, and mostly because I would never, EVER want Pea to feel too much responsibility for her little sister. And yet it was so beautiful, and they were so peaceful and happy and Penelope had been singing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star to her...

Birdie coos and gurgles and almost sounds like she's singing. She still slurps and chomps on her pretty little hands, turning them over and over and over and over. She still goes from 0 to 10 in 2 seconds flat--happiness can become hysteria if I leave her line of sight--but when she's happy, she is, quite simply, amazing. Butterfly eyes that open wide at the sight of you and then open even wider. A sweet little mouth and always that little tongue, looking like she's trying to blow bubbles or sound out syllables. Fingers and hands and fingers and hands, with just the prettiest, square nail beds.

I feel like Penelope and I are back on track. She's handled everything from this last year really, really well, but the first couple months of Birdie's life she did everything fun or interesting with Daddoo. Just because I tended to fall apart once the evenings or weekends arrived. I would live for the couple of hours each day where I could have just ONE sobbing child attached to me, so I would send them off to the store or park or wherever and try not to think about how much I missed just being with Penelope and how easy it all now seemed. In the process of all that Jeffrey became Fun Parent and I became She Whose Endless Rules Must Be Tolerated Until My Precious Father Comes Home and Saves Me. Mostly, we just needed to be able to have the occasional fun one-on-one time, where she didn't have to feel like she was fighting for my attention with She Who Constantly Suckles AGAIN. So I'm being better about finding time with her, even if it's just a random 10 minutes where we can play with her doctor kit while the baby is asleep.

You know the phrase "whistling in the dark?" It means keeping one's courage up. I think about that a lot right now...

Weird

2008-10-04T22:10:00.000-07:00

Here's one thing three years of pregnancy and parenting have taught me: No matter what you do or how you do it, people will think you're weird. Even if you're not. It's really that simple. Don't believe me? Have a kid.

Example A:

You feed your kids all organic fruits and vegetables. Someone will think you're elitist.
You feed your kids some organic fruits and vegetables but mostly just try to feed them fruits and vegetables. Someone will think you're missing the point.
You don't worry about organics, preferring to just focus on them eating whole, natural food as much as possible. Someone will think you're splitting hairs.

Example B:

You never give your kids sugar. Someone will think you're a real kill-joy.
You let your kids have sugar occasionally, but prefer that it's unrefined and prefer that it's thought of as a treat and not an expectation or used as a reward. Someone will think that you're a chronic worrier.
You're not that worried about your kids' sugar intake as long as it's not before bed and as long they brush their teeth. Someone will intimate that you might as well start a fund for your kids' future diabetes.

Example C:

You co-sleep with your children religiously. Someone will imply that your children will never know how to be alone with their own thoughts.
Your children sleep with you when they're infants, when they're sick, when they have nightmares, when their sad. Someone, several someones in fact, will probably tell you that they're sick, have nightmares, and are sad simply because they're not sleeping with you full-time.
Your kids--either due to heavy-sleeping on your part, general thrashing about by any or all family members, weird work/sleep schedules on the part of the adults, or any other legitimate reason--have almost never slept in the same bed as you. Someone, somewhere will tell you flat out that your kids are obviously insecure and obviously unattached--even as they're sleeping peacefully in your arms or hanging off your person.

Example D:

All your children were born at home and you have amazing stories about their births. A LOT of people are going to say something pretty dumb and naive about infant mortality and modern medicine (never mind that the statistics are NOT in the hospitals' favor).
Your children were born naturally, but in a hospital setting as that's where your midwives or doctors (for whatever reason) prefer to work, and you have amazing stories about their births. Someone, several people, will turn up their noses and do the equivalent of calling you a fraidy-cat.
You happen to be in the small percent of the population who had a legitimate need for a c-section(s). Plenty of people, naive and/or over-zealous, are going to pretty much tell you flat-out that you're a failure and lump you in (mentally, at least) with the sort of silly, Hollywood girls who schedule their birth around lame things like swimsuit season and photo shoots and making sure their kids all have birthdates ending in a 5.

Example E:

Your kids go to public school--for any number of reasons, all of them completely legitimate to you. Random people will have fun name-dropping their kids' private school and telling you all about the accelarated programs they're in, the alternative and/or holistic approach their amazing (amazing!) school takes, the foreign languages, and the incredible colleges their kids are getting into (regardless of whether or not you give a shit).
Your kids go to private school. The people you were just harrassing are gonna be happy to hand it right back--and tell you all about their community involvement, their daily adventures in diversity, and how THEIR kids are going to grow up to be teachers and actually make a difference in their world.
You homeschool your kids, for any number of reasons all of them completely legitimate to you. People everywhere will want to have long, long, long discussions with you about all kinds things that all end in comparing your kids to theirs, in a real nit-picky fashion, and wondering whose is smarter and whose is better "adjusted" (whatever the hell that is supposed to mean).

I could go on and on and on (and on and on)... Potty training, television, learning to read, breastfeeding, the diapering options, etc. Whatever you do, regardless of how much it makes sense to you and fits within the context of your life, someone--many someones--is going to tell you flat out, imply, suggest, something, that what you're doing is just plain wacky. Odd. Funny. Weird. Even if you feel like the most normal, middle of the road person.

I've never asked a question of my readers, but what part of your parenting do you feel like you've had to defend the most--even if it seems ridiculous? I'd love to hear your stories...weirdos.

Favorite things, early fall edition

2008-09-29T23:02:00.000-07:00

Birdie's smiles, all sparkly eyes and crooked mouth.

The way she coos. She hoots just like a little owl.

Penelope calling, "Lud you, Mama, night-night!" as Jeffrey carries her to bed.

Pea's continued obsession with the phrase of her own making, "jingle-bop", and its many derivatives. It's her catch-all, fill-all, no more words necessary statement. How are feeling, Peanut? Jingle-bop. Oops, you dropped your cup! Jingle-bop. What does a lion say? Rawwwr-tingle-bop! I love you, Bug. Tingle-bop, Mama!

Toddler-hood. Never thought I'd say it, but I am completely in love with this stage of talking and singing and questions and ideas and learning and exploring. Every day is truly an adventure for Pea and it's just like everyone says--I see everything new and anew through her eyes.

The baby sleeping 8 hours at night. It's been a week. It could change. Still, it's been a week and I am really, really grateful. Now if only I could get more than 5, we would be getting somewhere... And for the record, she's still so little that this pretty much means she's nursing all day long. Which means I'm not getting a nap. Which means that I have nothing to complain about AND I'm exhausted.

Aden and Anais muslin swaddling blankets. My friend Kelly was absolutely right--these are the very best blankets EVER. They are huge, swaddle a baby super snugly, and are super breathable. And they wash up beautifully. They are my new favorite baby gift to give.

Our fleece Peanut Shell sling. This is the coziest, most comfortable sling I've tried and Birdie loves it so much that she will pretty much nap on command in it. It has been an absolute lifesaver for the worst weeks of colic and I have no idea how we would have survived without it. The only problem is that I can't lie down with her in it (duh) and man, I would love to nap more...

Pea's latest sayings. First one was in the car today, said while vigorously pumping arm across chest: "Mama--I am paying a vi-ulin with a thtick!" When I told her that the stick is called a "bow", she was completely confused. Then she said, "Mama--I'm paying my vi-ulin with my bow, now". She had grabbed the tiny bow on her shirt and was attempting to move it back and forth in time with the music. Okay. You kind of had to be there.

The second one was also said while we were driving home today from the park. I was telling her about her name, as she has recently begun calling herself "Pu-nelope Eta (Aoife) Kaye!" and she was asking why that was her name. I told her first that it was the most beautiful name I could think of. Then I asked her if she wanted to know what it means. When we got to her middle name, I said it means "lovely, joyful, and radiant." "Yeah," she cried, "and RADIO!"

The way Adeleine sucks on her little hands. She is so slobbery and lip-smackery and downright noisy, working her little fists and hands over and over while she tries to cram them in whole. No matter how many times I try to show her a finger or thumb, she goes right back to the whole hand. It's so amazingly cute. And she smells like milky slobber all the time now.

Waking up to fresh, French-pressed coffee made with the yummiest, most delicious beans on the planet (in my humble opinion). From one of the best coffee shops we've found so far--really good coffee, amazing cappucinos, really nice people. For those of you who don't know (or care) that's a REALLY hard combination. It really helps on those mornings--oh, that's most of them--that start WAY too soon.

The hope that we are moving out of the worst of the colic. For real.

The hope that life is going to feel less overwhelming at some point. I love being Mama and I love my girls so dearly, so intensely and we are so lucky to be able to spend our days together and our nights with Jeffrey. But it's not easy.

Ocean Time

2008-09-18T22:05:00.000-07:00

A cool September morning, overcast and still, seems the perfect time to remember our time at the beach a few weeks ago. This is actually my attempt to re-create a post I spent hours on this morning (all the while hitting "save" over and over) only to hit "publish" and have Blogger eat it. Thank goodness I actually checked the front page of my blog and saw that the only thing that published were some of the photos, saved several days ago into a draft. Heartbreaking. And then the day seemed to go further and further downhill until I just had to pour myself another cup of coffee and walk away from the computer.

So here now, finally, are some of my favorite photos from our time at the beach, carefully selected from hundreds taken that week. You can't really tell from most of these, but we actually had pretty amazing weather. Especially since the Oregon coast can be a bit unpredictable and last year we had incredible hot and sunny days the whole time and it's easy to feel that that means the following year is going to suck.

Birdie started smiling for real this week, so I had to include this one. And her skin broke out all over from the environment change and new surroundings. Feels like it's just been one thing after another with this sensitive little girl. I'm so sorry, Baby.

My sister's dog, Charlie. He enjoyed playing in the water a LOT more than his breed is supposed to. He and Penelope are great friends.

Penelope had so much fun just chasing him and being chased, up and down the beach and all around the beach house.

Some shots of the short walk from the house to the beach.

I will always remember what Penelope looked like this year, running down the pine needle-covered path under the trees, then down through the beach grass and onto the sand. She never failed to be excited about all that water to splash in, all that sand to dig in, and open places to run and run and run.

Shots from the two evenings we (attempted) to have bonfires and food down by the water. The first time we were a little off in our estimation of high tide, and so shortly after we had begun to eat the hot dogs we'd cooked we were hurriedly packing up kids and gear as the water suddenly rolled in really, really close. The main reason this is funny to me is that I'm married to a Boy Scout who is usually over-prepared in any and all outdoor situations. The fact that for once in his life he just decided to take a guess on tide times and then have it be wrong... And also have it be very, very dark and WITH his babies... It just completely cracks me up. (Sorry, babe) The next time, we made sure we had PLENTY of time before high tide, brought down a huge pan of homemade lasagna and everything to make s'mores, and Jeffrey and my brother brought down their guitar and djembe. We were just settling in--playing music, watching the surf, eating--when it suddenly started to rain. And I mean RAIN. So once again we were hurriedly throwing stuff in Pea's wagon, gathering the rest of our firewood, packing up food. The best part of all this is that now when Pea plays "beach" at home, she will pretend to lay out her blanket, build a fire, eat hot dogs, and then suddenly she yells, "Pack up! Pack up! The water's coming!"

Our good friends, and two of Pea's favorite people, came and visited us for the day. We are so glad they now live closer than Texas.

The girls and Grammi. Penelope is starting to look a lot like my mom did when she was little.

And check out the smokin' decor. The house, which we rented kind of last minute, turned out to be in a GREAT location and was the perfect size for 5 adults and 2 kids. It was also chock-full of idiosyncrasies. I'll have to see if I have a picture somewhere of the wall of windows forming a cross. Too funny!

Pea and Auntie. You can tell they like to do similar things--and they have so much fun together!

Pea and Uncle J. One of the few upsides to all the pregnancy sickness of last fall (other than Baby Birdie, of course) is that my brother watched Penelope so much that she is now just as attached to him as she is to my mom and sister. I can't even begin to tell you what it's like to have a funny, involved, and SAFE uncle for my girls.

Shots from our day trip to another, larger and more well-known, beach in order to see tide pools. It was fun, but seeing the crowds and commotion and tourists and well-tracked sand just reminded me again how much I love the beach where we stay. The sand is almost unmarked, the passers-by are mostly residents and locals, and sometimes you can go for hours without seeing another person. I much prefer this to the tourist experience, especially in my home state.

I actually have pictures of all of the adults taking turns helping Adeleine sleep. There were a lot of really rough times with her, poor thing, but everyone took turns swaddling and rocking and holding and soothing and usually, in the end, everyone fell asleep with her.

And here are the two girls, one deeply asleep after a morning spent playing, playing, playing, and the other warm little baby body is exhausted after crying, crying, crying.

Fun times with Daddoo and Mama. Not as sarcastic as that sounds. Really.

More family times.

And now my favorite pictures of Penelope from the week.

And Adeleine.

Such a fun week. I'm already dreaming of our next trip away, though I'm afraid it won't be for a while. But that's what dreaming is for, right?

***

Now back to today--very hard at times. The Blogger frustrations were just the beginning. Then there was the poop on the floor, a baby that wouldn't sleep, hormonal issues (I won't go into it publicly but my body is continuing to be weird and unpredictable), and I almost ruined dinner.

But there were also some very bright moments. I woke up to fresh, French-pressed Ethiopian coffee, thanks to my very thoughtful husband, and my mom and sister came over for a bit and played with the girls. And then Jeffrey came home from work with a bundle of the same stripey-orange/red calla lilies we had at our wedding. And then I re-created the vacation post and it just might be even better...

And now I'm going to try and sleep. Family pictures tomorrow and the bags under my eyes aren't going to go away by themselves.

Anniversary

2008-09-13T09:44:00.001-07:00

One introduction by a mutual friend.
Fifteen months of dating and falling madly but seriously in love.
Five months of planning our dream wedding on a seriously tight budget.
One wedding, full of family and then-new friends that are now our other family.
One week on Orcas Island.
One new job each and Jeffrey's becomes an even better opportunity than we'd thought. (We've kept it.)
Countless birthday parties, restaurants, beach trips, bottles of wine, family dinners, game nights, and evenings spent in bed with dinner on trays and movies on the television.

One pregnancy that includes early hospitalization and reduced workload for me.
One natural and looooong birth resulting in a beautiful, strong baby girl who still has her own way of doing things.

One family.

One house, all our own, in a neighborhood we love.

A second pregnancy, even harder at the beginning.
A second baby girl, this one born surprisingly fast in big tub of warm water.
(One incredible midwife, one amazing husband, and one beautiful friend helping me do this.)

Two lovely and sweet and strong little girls.

One kind and strong and funny and safe Daddoo.

One life we've made--full of challenges and mistakes and learning and loving and laughing and growing and healing and, most of all, loving every single minute spent together.

Five years.

Jeffrey--our girls are growing up knowing so much love and happiness and security that sometimes I have to pinch myself. Falling in love with you was the best decision I ever made. I really hope we do get another 45 years... I can only imagine what they'll hold.

6 Weeks

2008-09-05T23:51:00.000-07:00

The little Birdie is now 6 weeks old. I thought I was going to call her Ellie for short, and I still may, but right now her nickname is Birdie. Because with a face like this...

... Birdie just seemed to fit. Penelope has had lots of nicknames in her short life and so I'm sure Adeleine will be no different. We're nickname people, the K.'s, and we like it that way.

Birdie is doing really, really well, overall. She's 10 lbs and change and she's finally falling into a slightly more predictable daytime pattern. She's still colicky, which completely and totally sucks and I cannot even imagine what it would be like to deal with this all night as well. So far it's just been bad day times with pretty pleasant night time sleeping, nodding off between 10 and 11 and simply waking up to nurse and then falling back asleep till somewhere between 6 and 7 in the morning. Nice, huh? But up till this last week, her day times have been a wreck. Just all over the place. And as a result, I've been a wreck. Ok--it's not just the wonky sleeping, it's been all the crying, crying, crying, weird skin rashes, no pooping, crying, not burping, more crying... you get the picture.

All of it together has sometimes felt like it's just more than I can handle. My own hormones are still in flux, post-partum, and haven't been the kindest to me and Jeffrey already has a lot of stressful work and family stuff on his plate. I'm not at all complaining. It's just been a huge, HUGE learning curve. I'm getting there, but the process can feel very slow and sometimes I'm not sure I feel completely up to the task.

But other than the poop, skin, and gas issues, and the crying, crying, crying with the crying, and days that drag for hours and then are suddenly over (leaving in their wake a bombed-out kitchen and more laundry than a family of four should technically be able to create), you know what?

I am completely in love with this kid.

There is a sweetness to her, something I almost can't put into words... something so lovely about her little soul. The same thing I felt so strongly the first two weeks she was here, before all the issues began and when it was just her in my arms for hours, so peaceful and thoughtful and precious. I know that underneath all the crying and nervous and digestive system issues, this is who she really is.

Her big sister is so sweet with her (most of the time) and Adeleine returns the favor by craning her short and chubby little neck all around, trying to always see where Sister is and what she's doing and quick to reward her kisses with wide-eyed smiles.

And we're figuring out the hard parts, too. We've learned that really snug swaddling and just the right kind of rocking/jostling will soothe her like nothing else, and that she needs a lot of predictability in her daytimes. So doing lots of "stuff" just doesn't work right now. And you know what? That's really ok with me. I mean there's lots that in theory I would like to be doing each week, but this time, when she's still so new and so little, is so very short and so very sweet and I don't want it to fly by in weeks just filled with "stuff". Even though parts of it are really stressful and I'm often exhausted to the point of tears, I also don't want to miss a moment of this part of my life. Of our life.

Because I can never, ever get it back.

Blue steel

2008-09-04T23:11:00.000-07:00

This kid's gonna change the world. But first, she's going to fill her diaper.

Back. Sort of.

2008-09-04T11:09:00.000-07:00

We are back from vacation. From a wonderful time at the ocean. A whole week full of sleeping in while family held the baby, one-on-one time with each child, hours under beautiful sun, more food than I can even recount, late-night card games, a genius Auntie helping me figure out sure-fire ways to calm my fussy, fussy baby (those first two weeks of calm, peaceful infancy were SUCH a tease...), and too many wonderful memories to list here (and some I want to keep to myself for a bit--because I'm like that).

I'm going to photo-blog, at the very least, our trip, and try to catch up my thoughts on Adeleine's last few weeks of life. That will all come (hopefully) later tonight. But you know me... the only way I can figure out how to regularly write AND take regular photos AND keep up on appointments and the technical part of life AND make sure Pea takes consistent naps AND keep the baby's life harmonious and gentle AND stay sane AND see my husband (who I still kind of like) AND keep everyone fed and in clean britches (literally), AND keep the house reasonably clean, is to let the house completely go. And did you see that last part about my personal sanity? Well, it's pretty well tied up in the state of my house, and though I've changed my standards a LOT in this department, if I were to allow them slip even farther you would have to put me on some really strong meds. And it's not like anything else can come off that list, until they start using the toilet by themselves. So I clean instead of write and then I feel really shitty about not being born into a body/brain combo that can't do it all, or at least do it as well as "everyone else" seems to. And then I get over it and remember that staying emotionally involved is the far better thing, even if it does take a lot out of me, and something that hopefully, in the end, my children will be glad I chose over daily blog entries. Mostly I just hope that I can at least remember enough about Adeleine's (aka Birdie's) early days to fill in the blanks every so often.

This it not, by the way, a jab at anyone who posts daily--I'm just not you.

So we're back, it was amazing, we're still unpacking, we're still adjusting to our regular life without lots of lovely and amazing extra hands and playmates and dinner-makers, and trying to sort through all the photos and phone calls and laundry. Oooooh, the laundry.

Notes from the random pile

2008-08-15T23:33:00.000-07:00

Another week has flown by.

Once again, it's this crazy mixture of of hours full of sweet and wonderful things like new baby smell, and sleeping baby, and tiny hands and feet, and horrible, AWFUL things like realizing I may have scored the only baby born without the pooping and burping genes. She has pooped 3 times in the last week, and sometimes it takes her an hour after nursing before she can finally get a painful burp out. We have officially gone from perfect baby who only cries when she needs something to baby who often cannot be soothed until she finally falls asleep from sheer exhaustion. Evenings over here are so fun right now that I really have no idea when I would have blogged, even if I had the brain space. That brain space is pretty well fried from all the crying. That and Penelope's constant stream of consciousness chatter in which no minute detail of the day is safe from comment. Crying, sleeping, nursing, and more crying--that's the baby's routine. Penelope's is talking, talking, talking, kissing the baby, talking, talking, talking...you get the picture.

So here's some random stuff I do remember from this last week. Some are probably more interesting than others. Sorry.

Adeleine is 3 weeks old. Oh my god. It's flying by. I love having a tiny baby around again. I have to admit, though, that there are things about toddler-hood that I love even more. This is from someone who used to dread the toddler years and all that they mean (potty-training, mostly). Now I am so accustomed to a little body who is still sweet and and somewhat new but can communicate in sentences and follows verbal directions really well that I have admit to a slightly different perspective on things. I can't wait to see who and what Adeleine becomes. I have some ideas about who she is but only she knows for sure and I'm so excited to discover that along with her. That said, I'm trying to hold on to all the good moments as they happen right now, knowing for real this time that time only goes faster and faster (though the nights can really drag).

Penelope is still adjusting to our new life awfully well. But she is often quite petulant about things and has lately become somewhat demanding. We're working through it but it's both funny and irritating. We've been using the "naughty chair" a lot, again. (sigh)

Jeffrey's aunt came down and stayed with us this past weekend. As crazy as life is right now, it was really, really fun. We had a nice breakfast out, we all went over and saw Jeffrey's parents, we went to the park and farmer's market, and she insisted on weeding our backyard (she's amazing like that). Penelope loved seeing her "Auntie Shaddon" (Sharon) and keeps asking me when she's coming back.

Jeffrey has been amazing about making sure Penelope has lots of one-on-one time with him when he gets home at night. And on the weekends, too, taking her to parks and on fun outings and and errands. So it's helping make up for all the time she and I used to spend doing those sorts of thing throughout the week, and helping her feel a bit more settled about sharing her airspace with another human.

Funny story: the other day when I told Pea that I needed a break from watching her and listening to her constantly and that sister needed some attention from me, she momentarily lost it, and then started walking around the house saying, "Pea is AMAZING, Pea is AMAAAZING." Apparently that sibling came just in time, eh?

I'm going off dairy as Attempt #1 to fix the baby's colic-like symptoms. If that doesn't work wheat will be next. Not exactly fun, but absolutely worth it if it means my happy, peaceful baby returns. And I always lose weight when I go off dairy and gluten so a side benefit could be the 15 rascally pounds left from pregnancy (which, by the way, I'm not exactly worried about as it's only been 3 weeks and I loathe our culture's obsession with speedy post-partum weight loss).

The other day I was letting Pea watch a little bit of the Olympics (ten minutes of quiet, you know) when some commercials came on and I was a bit slow to change the channel (I HATE my children seeing advertising and I have some pretty strong opinions about how women are often portrayed therein). An ad came on for that new sitcom "Kath and Kim" and Pea watched transfixed as Molly Shannon and Selma Blair said their little lines...and then turned to me and parroted, "Mama, I'm a trophy wife!" Right.

The baby continues to redeem the days by being an absolute dream at night. Falls asleep for real somewhere around ten or ten-thirty, and then simply wakes at 3-4 hour intervals to nurse, falling immediately back to sleep. And she is starting to predictably sleep for a few hours around two in the afternoon, which hopefully means I can start napping when I put Pea down. That could make all the difference in terms of emotional sanity, so fingers crossed...

And now the best moment so far. One night last week while I was holding a sleeping Adeleine, she started laughing. In her sleep! Full-on, open-mouthed, laughter. I wouldn't believe it either, if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. Amazing.

In other things I'm woefully behind on, I was given a blog award several days ago by my friend Snickollet:

I'm so behind on this, just like everything else--but thank you, Snick, and especially for the kind words. I know--it IS crazy how we know we each other (I'm married to her high school boyfriend. Word.) and I am SO glad we do. I'm also incredibly proud of you, and I think you're a far better mother than you give yourself credit for. I can't wait till we're closer geographically and we can say all this stuff over wine and something chocolate (anything chocolate).

I am supposed to pass this on to 7 other bloggers but I am going to plead the "Sleepy Mama with Baby who Doesn't Poop" clause and simply pass this on to one. I hope that's not too big of a faux pas, but the truth is I haven't been reading blogs at all the past few weeks--I can barely figure out how to get a shower and finish a sentence. But I have recently happened upon a blog/blogger who I've found really inspiring and moving. I haven't even commented over there (till tonight!) because of how little time I've had to myself/computer but I hereby award this to Erica at Crummy Cupcake. Go read her and see what I mean...

And now it's late, late, late and I'm so tired but it's Friday which means Jeffrey is home tomorrow and the next day and so there's hope...

What I DO know for sure

2008-08-07T23:15:00.000-07:00

1) If it wasn't for my upstairs laundry room the laundry would never be caught up again. Ever. As it is, I can handle the washing and the drying, but the folding? Folding is now officially for the leisure class. The rest of us are just happy to have things sorted into piles and shoved into a drawer.

2) Certain things really are easier the second time around: nursing, night feedings, soothing, figuring out post-partum hormones, knowing when company is a good thing and when it's just plain NOT, knowing that after these first few weeks things really will get easier.

3) A LOT of things are harder. I know what you're thinking: a big, fat Duh. Things like two kids crying at once and at similar volume levels, two bottoms to keep clean and dry, two mouths in seemingly constant need of food and drink, one little body with a fatal attraction to dirt and berries and anything sticky and another that collects lint and milk gunk in secret folds and recesses. I'm still trying to figure out how to also keep myself clean and in relatively clean clothes.

4) Jeffrey and I just may never have a complete conversation ever again. I'm trying to be okay with this but mostly it just makes me want to cry. Or throw something. (Not around the children, of COURSE.) He's got so much on his own plate with work projects and family stress and trying to spend lots of time with Pea in the evenings when he's (finally) home that it seems awfully petty to complain. But up till now we've always been really good about putting each other first and now, with the new baby and a toddler who has to repeat every single thing she says at least 20 times and does NOT STOP talking all day and especially not once Daddoo gets home, well, airspace is pretty well maxed out.

5) I have no idea who this baby looks like. I mean, her toes are mine, her ears are my family's, and her chin is Jeffrey's, but this is all we know for sure. She is her own little person at this point--beautiful but very different from Penelope. I love that she's not a carbon copy of Pea but completely herself. As cute as it is when other people have babies that are all at first glance exactly the same, I've always hoped to have children that were obviously individuals. (But if Pea got all the good tanning genes, Adeleine is going to turn 14 and hate her.)

6) At her two-week check-up yesterday, Adeleine was 8 lbs, 9 oz and is measuring three quarters of an inch longer (though it's hard to say, the first month, whether that's actually growth or just her little muscles relaxing and stretching out). She looked and sounded perfectly healthy, other than the nasal congestion that sister has so lovingly shared with her.

7) My emotions are just as fragile as last time. Except this time one of the babies has the comprehension of a 5 year-old and the tendency to repeat the saltier bits of my language so it's harder to pretend that everything's totally fine.

8) It's really hard not to panic when your baby starts puking up half-digested milk after every other feeding. Even when you've read lots of other people's stories and technically know everything that can cause it and what to do and know not to worry right away. When you're also very, very tired and emotional it's pretty much the final straw.

9) Adeleine seems to have settled into a nicely predictable night time routine. Still keeping my fingers crossed as, hello, we're only two weeks in here and I know the odds. Especially since my first one was a good sleeper too. However, she handles each daytime completely differently, meaning that all daylight hours are a complete crap shoot. Sometimes she sleeps and eats predictably, sometimes she keeps herself awake for waaaaay too long, and sometimes she cries and cries because she can't burp. But at least the nights are good--usually somewhere around 9:30 or 10 she falls asleep for real, and then wakes to nurse every 2-4 hours. We're co-sleeping with her at this point which is actually working this time because she's such a calm sleeper (sister was moved into her own bed next to us at approx. 3 days old because co-sleeping did NOT work with a capital N), and she does really well at nursing while lying next to me. All of which means I'm getting a lot of night sleep for a new mother. But by the end of each day I am so exhausted it doesn't seem to matter.

10) My ear infection has yet to completely go away, even with natural remedies AND antibiotics. Apparently it would clear up faster if I was getting more sleep, but when my doctor informed me of this I almost laughed. I mean, I'm already getting more than most new mothers, how the HECK am I supposed to sleep all day with a toddler? So I'm on week two of the antibiotic which is undoubtedly the reason the baby is puking. I mean, hopefully that's it, though I have a list of other things to check if it doesn't clear up when I finally get well.

11) That love has a way of multiplying and hearts have a way of growing and dividing. Meaning that everything everyone ever told me about the second baby is true. It's different--the Mama part of your brain is already turned on so there's not the same electrical flash when they're born, but at the same time you go from wondering how you could ever love someone as much and as intensely as your firstborn to wondering how you ever thought you couldn't. When Penelope was handed to me for the first time I took one look at her and knew I would stand in front of a train for her. This time, when Adeleine floated up out of the water to me, I knew that and so much more. I knew that I would fail her at times and that some days I would wonder why I thought I was sane enough to commit to something like motherhood. I knew that the first few weeks were going to be a big adjustment. But I also knew that I would really and truly love her forever, that nothing she did could ever change that, and that knowing her, and being entrusted with the first part of her life, would change me forever.

Snapshots

2008-08-07T15:47:00.000-07:00

Look at those long, pretty fingers. And nails. She often throws her hands over her face and/or eyes when she sleeps. Or if it's too loud or bright.

Asleep is when she looks the most like Penelope and Jeffrey. Awake, I'm still trying to figure her out... There's something very thoughtful about her, she already studies everything in front of her very carefully.

Most of the time she's very peaceful. She only cries when something is actually wrong (unlike her sister as a baby), the downside to which is that she goes from 0 to 10 very fast. Very. But it's usually over quickly, too.

And isn't she pretty?

Soon...

2008-07-30T18:43:00.000-07:00

Thank you everyone for your comments and wishes (here, at Jeffrey's blog, via email, etc.) and all the wonderful things said about Adeleine's birth. We could not be more in love with her. I really and truly cannot wait to tell you all about her birth and show you lots more pictures (she's already a week old!) and check in with all of your blogs and see what all of YOU have been up to as well. But the last week has been an experiment in all things unplanned and so I'm only now sitting down to the computer and trying to figure out where to begin.

Good things happened: the baby, my friend Jessica in town from Texas, time with family, time with my adopted family and the girls' cousins, amazing friends and neighbors bringing food and gifts, etc. Hard things happened: Jeffrey's mom fell and broke her wrist the night before Adeleine's birth and the week after has been full of bad medical decisions on the part of a doctor or two, a surgery, the search for ongoing care, Jeffrey feeling torn between his new baby, a two-year old needing lots of extra attention, his post-partum wife, and his ailing mother, and Jeffrey spending most of Monday at the hospital with her and his step-dad. Unplanned things happened: Penelope got a bad cold, gave it to the baby, and I somehow came down with one of the only ear infections I've ever had.

And that's literally just been the last week. FULL, to say the least.

I know we're going to make it... It's just been a completely different time than we expected. Other than the baby--who is all newborn and strange noises and cries that are all her own, and who is also incredibly lovely and sweet and beautiful and sleeps and eats better than I could ever have imagined. (Knock on wood, of course. I won't be sure of anything for weeks, based on my last experience.) And Penelope has been amazing in her own way, and really only had about 24 hours of adjustment/emotions over the new creature in her world before turning into a doting and loving and only sometimes-irritated older sister.

Talk to you all soon.

Introducing Adeleine Caoimhe

2008-07-23T22:23:00.000-07:00

[Note: This is Jeffrey (aka Daddoo) posting for Annagrace.]

Adeleine was born at 1:28 PM. You can see initial photos and part of our story at Jeffrey's blog (http://daddoo.jeffreykaye.com). Or, look at the photos at http://jeffreykaye.com/photoblog.

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