Red. The new Blue.

i finally admitted to myself yesterday that blue is no longer my favorite color. (egad!) what was even harder was allowing myself to realize that i have a thing for the color Red. RED. red? red!

red.

the insanity of this may not be apparent to you and i understand why this seems like trivial pursuit but you don't understand. you don't understand. all my life i have wanted absolutely nothing to do with the color red. nothing. i didn't own red things. wear red things. sit beside red things. red was always obnoxious and overbearing. it wants everyone to notice it and it doesn't care whether you like it or not, just Notice it.

blue was such a good color to like. so calm and nature-ish. understated elegance; it comes in many many many shades and plays well with others. from sophisticated navy to all encompassing sky blue, it is a color that cannot be unloved: blue.

and quite literally the opposite is garish Red. big and bold Red. red that calls so many unpleasant things to mind like blood and ... okay just blood. which, is actually a good thing when you can't see it - when it's where it's supposed to be inside our bodies. but when we see the redness of it, things are usually not going well. usually. anyway, i digress.

red yells. red goes overboard and can't stop herself. she goes where she is uninvited. and then becomes the very life of the party.

she celebrates. she laughs too loud. red smells good. red even feels good! it's hearts and lollipops, lipstick marks and blushing,.. cherries! good things, yummy things. there is a lot that is Fabulousness about red. best of all:

red is unapologetic for red.

perhaps this is what draws me in. i took a chance on a red planner; risked being bold. and it paid off. red worked for me. so i got another one. and red demanded more.

one cannot be a casual friends with red.

and so, in the Spirit of Red, I am unabashedley embracing that which is entirely New and Unknown to me. i continue to move boldly (most of the time; sometimes i act more pink than red.)

here's to throwing my head back and laughing out Very loudly and bursting into the new with faith, hope and Red!

grate . blend. chop. pureé. serve.

dear universe/god/unknowable Other,

need a little help here. like answers, or direction or even cash.

or all of the above.

what's a girl chasing a dream supposed to do? do i need a butterfly net for dreams or some sort of sugar water bird dream feeder? help a sista out!

oh god. i can't even write and be all clever about this. i feel like crap. AGAIN. is anyone ever so sure about what they are doing? why do i keep bumping violently, painfully into Doubt? how come i can't just know it and never doubt it? what gives? this seasonal experience of vacillation is unwelcome and unpleasant to say the least. it's like this: i settle comfortably (oh... i think i see - i just used the word comfortably which i suspect the Other doesn't like)... anyway, so i settle into a general acceptance of the task at hand and my belief system du jour and then something goes bump in the night. my eyes fly open in an adrenaline fueled panic and i lay waiting for the other shoe to fall (mixing metaphors is great!). but it doesn't come.

or does it?

what am i saying, really?

i am tired of thinking that i've fought and struggled and prayed and silenced and loved and heard and talked and cried and wondered and believed my way into the The Way only to have the prayer mat pulled out from under me.

for me. for ME. for the children entrusted to my care and heart, i know that i cannot - cannot - put them into the traditional school system. i can't. i can't. i can't i can't i can't i can't.

what i Can do is give them the very best of our Selves. give them my Love, show them their Light and follow them through the pathways of their Being. we have much to learn together. this is my very first passion, my deepest oldest calling of The Spirit. i know that i can't not do this. unless they straight up ask me not to.

the next ripple in that outward flow of our passion is to give this gift to all children. i feel so strongly about this that this is also something i can't not do. some people get fired up about social injustice, some environmental, other still economical. God gives us each our unique way of acting on Love's behalf on our journey. for me the ground dwelling, sky arching, wave pulling call is to create Loving, true, kind, relevant, appropriate, humane spaces of learning for all children. places of learning where children are recongized for the unique part they play in their community. where the whole child is nurtured and revered. i truly believe this would be most effective starting place for addressing the other bits. (can children who are treated with kindness and respect and honor; children who are shown how they belong as an important part of the world and one of God's chosen - can they turn around to become selfish, uncaring adults?)

you all know my song and dance. everyone knows that i will not remain silent and demure about this matter.

so... God. WTF?

what's with the thomas syndrome? and what am i supposed to do?????

i feel like i am being forced to choose between my birth children, Your children and the work I feel called to with the children of the church community. have i offered my suggestion about the neon sign with answers or directions? or the cash?

this is my prayer:
i need to experience like minded mothers/educators. the texas conference in september will be a fair trade for the albany one in june. please provide all the funds we need for the airfare, hotel, conference, food and extras for me, Lauryn and Ryan.

i really need to know how to move forward or even stand still and wait regarding creation of an alternative learning space here in new providence ('Providence'??? need i say more???). i need clear clear Clear answers about what the next step needs to be.

show me how to create a schedule that will meet my needs for silence and contemplation, my children's and my own needs for me to be there with them, to move forward or wait patiently with sharing the philosophy of learner centred education and for me to be able to build a healthy, fruitful, happy, well run children's ministry at the church.
this is my prayer.

and so it is.

lint

i am harbouring resentment like lint between my toes.

the light side of me

self deprecating used to be my M.O. i came to find it a loathsome activity - for my self and for everyone else's selves. it is fruitless, uncomfortable and harmful. nuff said.

i was thinking about how i have a hard time accepting compliments about myself that i find hard to believe. (like when i'm called "pretty". that is impossible to believe. not that i think that i'm ugly or anything. just not pretty. )

anyway. this is not going the way i had planned it. i wanted to wonder around the things that i happen to think are redeeming qualities. 'redeeming' i realize is a bit loaded. i just mean what i like about me. the things about cian that are a credit to cian and possibly the people around cian. (talking about my self in the third person is very odd.)

so here goes (in no particular order):

i love my smile. i think it's radiant. (good god, this is a bit embarrassing but it's an exercise.)
i love that people say they like hugging me. i haven even been told that hugging me feels like home. i like that.
my sense of humor is one of my best qualities.
i love how music moves me.
sometimes, i am a good listener.
i care about people.
i care a great deal about our earth.
my friends are my friends in the truest sense of the word.
i have a sense of adventure.
i really love my hair.
i think i'm a half decent writer (usually until i read someone else's! :)
i have an aptitude for languages.
i'm not a frilly girl. i like that about myself.
i am comfortable just being one of the guys.
your secret is safe with me.
children mean the world to me. all of them.
i am an intentional mother.
so far, i have given my children (the start of) a really great life.
when it comes to the 'big stuff', i don't often choose the easy way. (not sure why this is redeeming, but i think it says that i'm not afraid to risk the cost.)
i think i have beautiful brown skin.
i do not accept the status quo.
i have an open(ing) heart.
God dwells within me. (this is not my doing. the profundity of this cannot be understated. this is my Being.)
i really really love nature.
i have a soft spot for animals.
i am learning to identify and not-sweat the small stuff.
i have learned a tremendous amount of everything from reading.
i now find myself choosing kindness more often than not.
i really love a good time.
i am a pretty good dancer.
i like to cook.
i bake cookies (from scratch) for and with my children.
i am becoming more and more unafraid with each sweep of the second hand. this is good.
Love permeates my life in all possible shapes, forms, dimensions and intangibles.
i am unyieldingly in love with, and committed to my husband, my best Best friend.
beauty reveals herself to me everywhere through all my senses.
i really love growing older. and though i have no regrets, i would not go back in time to gain 'youthfulness'.
i do not regret.

not even this.

inspired by the mouth of my babe

Me: You're so perfect! Who made you perfect, Ryan?
Ryan: Ummm... I dunno.
Me: God made you perfect!

(Pause)

Ryan: Who's God, mom?
Me: (stumped)

(Pause)

Me: You know that feeling you get when you feel like you love mommy? . (he gets this feeling a lot.)
Ryan: Yeah?
Me: That's Who God Is.

leaving the kitchen

i can't handle the heat. it's a little like frying bacon naked.

you're right. no one could have prepared me for this. all of us - ALL of us - go into it with our own preconceived ideas of how it will be different in OUR lives. we have ALL the answers way ahead of time. those other people are just too stupid to know that they're doing a bum job and wallowing in the consequences. poor lost souls, we think. we'll show 'em, we think.

ha!

that last laugh business is rearing it's maniacal donkey faced head.

so now, i have come to PA and i am saying, hi my name is cian and i don't know how to raise my son. (your turn to listlessly respond: hi cian.)

i know i know i know. everyone is trying to figure out what my problem is. why can't i just stfu and do my job? because so few other women are saying these things i feel i must. i'll take the hit for being the mom who doesn't know what to do - it seems - a LOT of the time.

in talking to N this morning, i think i kind of had a mini epiphany. a seeing through the glass less darkly kind of moment. i think my boy is so intense and so alert and so HERE that he never really winds down. he doesn't have Mellow Moments. there is no fade to black with ryan. just bright shiny pictures that sometimes turn into retina searing bright sunlight and then back to pictures again. no black. no dark. no off.

what about when he's sleeping?

even then. even that. which is what led me to the mini epiphany. i keep hearing the echo of a friend's voice as we were chatting one summer afternoon two years ago. (and yes, you can picture any random cheesy soap opera scene of the character staring off into space with the voice bouncing around in their presumably empty heads).

"if you wean him, there's still no guarantee he'll sleep through the night." he said.

damn you D. you were so bleeding right.

and so... we are now awakened with excruciating regularity by the sound of ryan crying that he can't sleep. he can't sleep. he can't sleep. he can't sleep. he can't sleep.

i realize at this point that good old Attitude of Gratitude might help. after all, at least he's well. he's here. he can speak. he is not dead. (if these are offending you, then perhaps you may need to consider looking away.)

at least i'm honest.

my point being that even in sleep he is too (wired is the best word i can come up with but i don't like the negative connotations so maybe i should say) Alert to sleep very deeply or very long. which is why he has been sleeping in underwear since he figured toilet learning out. (in contrast his sister, 5, still sleeps in pullups 2 years after daytime learning because she sleeps as deep as the night is long.)

so what am i to do? how can i stop being the awful evil yelling shouting pushing shoving hitting (yes. yes. yes.) mom? i do these things out of moldy, rotting frustration. the bad terrible frustration that causes me to act like a ... well, like ryan. look here people i'm not proud. and i am not ashamed. i just recognize my very short comings and i need help to figure out how to lengthen the bastards.

of course i know it's a complete idiot who fries bacon in their underwear (i learned my lesson!) and i know i need some clothes or an apron. following that metaphor, i can't find the store that sells either of those things.

you know the history. i keep making peace. but that's never it. as if i keep thinking the kitchen towel can protect me. but it's not enough. i need the whole getup.

help.

and the walls come crashing down

i feel like weeping.

i really do.

here i was going along thinking that i have been doing a good job (for the most part) raising my children. all the while doing to my daughter exactly what was done to me but in a different way.

i don't really want to go into my own VERY unhealthy relationship with food. i don't. it's too depressing.

but i really really believed that i was doing the right thing by withholding crap from my children. i thought it would teach them how to eat and appreciate healthy foods. this admission is very difficult for me. that i've done a very shitty job these last 5 years. i didn't know. i just didn't know.

what else have i been doing wrong?

i guess i'll be spending the next few days over at Sandra Dodd learning and unlearning about how to be a better mom.

this is so so sad for me. i hope i can change (myself).

Random Objects

i have been itching to write for weeks now. just itching! but i haven't had the time or the head space. what a minute, what am i talking about? all i have in my head is space, it seems as i am almost never able to find the words and thoughts i am looking for - just empty spaces.

random thought number one:
january just kind of got sucked down the toilet didn't it? one minute it's 'happy new year' and the next second i'm cutting out paper hearts for valentine's day crafts. good god, it's almost the middle of february already! i feel like swiper the fox is stealing weeks off my calendar! anyway, i guess i am kind of glad to be past this most recent past. it hasn't been easy.

random thought number two:
happy 'goingoutaversarry' to (me and) nathan! today is the thirteenth anniversary of us being together! (not married, just together).

#3
jeez louise life can be difficult!

#4
i'm so thankful to my dear friends (most notably NS DST and CM) for helping me see things.. differently.

5
i'm getting lazier as the list progresses

6
i am learning to believe that i can do it. whatever 'it' actually turns out to be. i must be learning because at this particular moment, i am not feeling terrified at the thought.

7
i gotta go b/c nathan needs to use the computer to earn a living. somehow, blogging random thoughts seems to pale in comparison.

this has been the single most non-cathartic writing, uninteresting episode of my blogging career.

Initial Reactions to The New Year

it's early yet for 2009, to be sure. and, of course, i realize this whole concept of a New Year is just a mental construct. a time marker. laundry day for time. it's the time when most humans give ourselves permission to start all over again. to try something new or to approach something in a different way.

in many ways, these are noble ideas. i am sure that there are even a few instances where resolutions equal revolutions. but for the most part, like anything else, the novelty soon wears off and we get sucked back into the 'drudgery' of a regular old year. regular old same old same old.

but not me.

sure i stayed up till after midnight (EST) and watched the fireworks across the harbour. and yes, i celebrated with friends and family on the eve. but for me, i feel this idea of a fresh start is always available to us. a person can celebrate new year's day ANY day of the year. we are free to decide that there is no time like the present.

right now is a new moment. and now. and now.

if i had a new year's resolution - and i don't - it would be to accept What Is. I am. You are. oo use a rather tired catch phrase: It is what it is. there is no changing the past, no matter how recent it is. you or i cannot even change something that happened 1 second ago. so let's agree to leave it be. as for what will happen next... you know. you may not know that you know, but you really do know. which leaves us smack dab in the middle of Now.

Now is your chance. Do the work you need to do. Or maybe you need to go on a journey.

i don't want to be all preachy. (it may be too late and if it is, i apologise.)

all i'm saying is. there is no such thing as new years, really. there isn't just one.

please give yourself permission to change your life anytime you feel like it. Now, for example.

Re-Calibrating

Everyone always says (how do you like that for overgeneralization?) that Ryan is such a wonderful boy and that he is so sweet that they simply cannot comprehend why I say such awful things about him.

It's true.

They say that.

And I do say awful things about my boy. I do. I say he's evil. I say he's difficult. I say he's traumatized me. I say he's scared me into not having any more kids (for now). Why, I may have even said all or some of those very things on this very blog. I feel like I am always bitching and moaning about raising my son, Ryan.

Aren't there any praises and good things to say about him? (Aside from what everyone else thinks?) Of course there are! I mean, he's ... bubbly and... funny and ... (looking off into nothingness trying to find words here)... we'll he's just a fun kid! I'm sure he is!

Right?

Yes, it's true that he's bitten and torn two holes in the couch upholstery, then ripped a massive, human-2-year-old-male-child sized hole in the slip cover for the self same couch. It's true that he's written on every - and i mean EVERY - wall in our (read with a grimace: rented) house. Yes, of course he's broken countless random objects. (What two year old child hasn't!) And yes, he hits and pushes everyone. EVERYONE. Oh, and let's not forget that he throws everything lighter than himself (so what's that? 35 lbs or less, maybe) anywhere and everywhere in the house. Even if you catch him about to do it and you say: RYAN. RYANNNN. RYAN!! DO! NOT! TH... and throws and breaks it anyway. Then you swear under, sometimes over your breath as you clean up the bloody mess...

So what? (Right?)

I mean, the constant whining from dawn till dusk shouldn't bother me. Him having a minor (or major) coronary whenever his fork falls or food spills on him, or his sandwich tears or his shoes won't go on right, or I forget to let HIM put the key in the door (a 30 minute exercise) and turn the key (another 10 minutes) to get out of the house when mommy's rushing somewhere, or if I take away a sharp pointy object (knives, poles, metal rulers etc.) that will no doubt puncture external and internal organs in the blink of an eye, or anything really. All that should just ROLL right off my back, right?

Thankfully, I've stopped worrying that the only foods he eats are:

eggs (sometimes)
cheese (sticks, preferably)
peanut butter and jelly sandwiches
raisins
certain granola bars
very watered down orange or cranberry juice
shotlit milk (soy, rice or almond usually)
and the odd banana or canteloupe chunks here and there
and, of course, fries

That's it. I'm not kidding. And quite frankly, the top winners in terms of frequency and regularity are PBJ and OJ (water) and Shotlit Milk. So what if he doesn't eat chicken or vegetables?! Big deal!

Nope. I'm not worried about that!

You know what's funny? As crazy and tazmanian-devil/tornado like this boy is, he is still very much a baby who needs me more than I realise. It's not that he's not independent in his own way, but he's not like his sister who - in retrospect - seems to have grown up a bit faster. No. He needs to run and play a lot but he also needs me to be there for him just as much, if not more.

This is what I am realising. And I suspect, that's been my struggle all along: sub- or unconsciously thinking he doesn't need me as much anymore and getting upset and resentful when he did. An very, very unfortunate (what? mindset? oversight?) thing that has been unfair to us both.

So I'm re-calibrating. Tuning up the Mommy Hold Me buttons and easing off the - if i can be brutally honest here - Leave-Me-Alone/ Don't-Need-Me-So-Much-Please! knobs.

I've needed to process this for a while. Thanks for listening and not judging. Thanks for accepting a flawed, but deeply loving nonetheless Mother.

4:57, 5/19

i am so exhausted.

i feel like i've been in some sort of twilight zone boot camp for five years. they torture you by waking you up several times a night. they make you do things and say things over and over again for no apparent reason (it never changes anything). you have to have a masters in conflict resolution. you have to have some kind of certification in food and nutrition. oh hell, all kinds of things. so

let me make the list:

psychological warfare
first aid
peer counseling
digestive health (bowel movement analysis; frequency and texture)
terrorist negotiation tactics
getting kids to eat
getting kids to eat green things
sleep clinic assesment technologies (as in how TF do i get this child to sleep through the night?!)
educational institution evaluation techniques for the 21st century and beyond
home repair
stain removal
how to cover up a mysterious bald spot and/or sudden hair loss due to sharp objects

and, oh so many more!

how do people do this? i only have two children in residence and i feel very much like i remember having a mind at one time, but i seem to have misplaced it during the night.

the whining (my FAAAAvorite!), the tantrums (wait, maybe that's my favorite), the hitting, the biting, the grabbing, the jumping on my person (that's ME), the incessant need for juice-not-water... these are a few of my favorite things! when the dog bites, when the bee stings, when i'm feeling saaaad. i simply remember...my... fav... (record scratching) wait a hot minute! nix the sound of music soundtrack. julie andrews the nun i sho ain't!

good grief. i'm whining and tantruming here. well, i guess it is my turn. plus, i'm not piercing ear drums or embarrassing anyone.

i'm tired. so. very.


tired.

and so much more!

Guilt Is A Carnivore

and it's eating me alive.

damn you guilt. why don't you develop a starvation based eating disorder?

or stay with the catholics where you usually lurk?

The Ology

Mostly for my own benefit I need to write out the general meandering path that is my theology at the moment. That is to say, I think I need to clarify my "belief system". (Hmm... maybe i should go to Belief Net and do their belief-o-meter test one more time...)

Anyway, I'm not sure how I'll go about this. Should I list the things that I do believe and/or the things that I don't believe? Why don't i just start. (I mean, there's always editing for crying out loud!)

Let's start with Jesus, since, for all intents and purposes, that is where it started for me (and so many others).

I believe Jesus. (Notice i didn't say "*in* Jesus".) I will not try to argue with or dispute his teachings. For me, they are true true true true true. I mean TRUE!! Was he God? I'm pleading the 5th on that one (meaning - I am not sure). Was he the actualization of a Universal God Potential? I really think so. What do I mean by that? Simply that how Jesus lived (and died) was the ultimate incarnation of Love. (aka "God").

I do not, however, subscribe to Christian doctrine or theology. I don't believe that "the only way to get to heaven is through the blood of Jesus" (may i even risk being offensive and say: HELL no, i don't believe that!!). I don't even really believe that everyone lives, dies and goes to heaven or hell. Do I even really believe in this other-worldly, sky bound destination we call heaven? Not really. Hell? Definitely not. I do believe that we can live in "Heaven" (closeness to God/Spirit/Love) or "hell" (self imposed distance from God/Spirit/Love) right here on Earth.

Which brings me to reincarnation.

I believe in reincarnation. I believe in the evolution of the Spirit and I believe in the evolution of the human species. What I mean by that is that I believe that over the centuries and millenia of human existence, we have been evolving more and more into the image of God. (hang on a second. I got some circular logic racing around my head...) Okay, no. What I think I really mean is that we are born perfect and whole. We are born without fear and judgement (and all the other undesirables that come along with those two mafia bosses of the shadow side.). We are born in Perfect Love, trusting and loving without wanting anything in return. And then as time goes on we learn fear and separation. And our perfect self (our true self) gets buried under a whole lot of shizer (hurt, betrayal, abuse, neglect etc.) I believe that we come back to the Earth again and again (and again) to learn a multitude of lessons to further the evolution of (our) Spirit which never dies.

So I definitely DO NOT buy the story that we are born in sin! (bucket please!) I don't. I just. Don't.

Still, I do think there is a fundamental "flaw" with humanity. I see us evolving out of that, though (by means of reincarnation). Not in like the next 10 years or anything. But we're on the path, I believe.

At the risk of clanging the same old cliche´bell, I really think the problem with fundamentalism in any religious order is that it breeds fear and judgement (same two thugs) which create disharmony. (A la Inquisition, Jihad, Hitler, The Bush Administration... the list goes on.) Once a person (or group of people) believes that they have all the answers and that their way is the only right way that there is.. well, we are in for - to put it mildly - a little trouble. Then it's about who is in and who is out. Who's right and who's wrong. Blah blah blah... (Umm excuse me? I'm not interested, please. Thank you.)

But pick a path we must. So I am choosing Love. Pure and simple.

I am learning (and damn it's a slow fricking process) to love my whole self. I am learning not to judge the parts of me that I don't really relish (oh my God, could i BE anymore forgetful??? or hey, how about that why-do-you-always-want-to-be-right?-ness). If I can stop judging the self within my skin, then I can stop judging the self outside my skin.

Yes, I am alluding to my belief that we are all ONE. OH. EN. EE. ONE. I believe that every single living being is suffused with, immersed in, cannot be removed from The Spirit. (According to quantum physicists: The Unified Field.) I believe that our entire universe is within Spirit's Self and we, therefore, are one with that Spirit and each other.

Think of it this way: If every living thing had a silver chord attaching it to every other living thing, it would mean that one could not act without affecting the other somehow, right?. (One.) It would mean that everything that breathes (is connected) is interdependent, right?. (One.) It would mean that even as the very Earth has been shown scientifically to breathe, it is the Breath of Spirit that unites us all. (One One One!)

I may think that the *$!@&% horrible-name-calling-here who treats his/her kids like shit is separate from me and then judge them for it, but the truth is


i am not


and i have no right to judge because i don't know his/her story and s/he is me and i am her/him.

Everybody knows by now that everything that eventually ends up on a trash heap is as worthless the day you buy it as the day it ends up at it's inevitable final destination and therefore is completely inconsequential. ('djou get that?) After all, wouldn't you quickly give it all up twice over or more to have a loved one survive tragedy? What good is all the money in the world if it cannot undo what has broken you? The only thing that is true, the only thing that is real and that survives is Love. (Truth, Kindness, Trust, Forgiveness, Wholeness...)

So I basically subscribe to any teaching that falls into the category of Love and Truth. All Truth, all Love, all Light is Spirit's.

I believe that Love doesn't do exclusive. Love won't force, but Love won't leave. It cannot. We cannot be separated from it. No matter what.

We have the choice, however, to actualize Love in every moment or not. Simply by being fully present, fully alive, fully aware; living in Love we have to potential to "do greater things" than Jesus. I really believe that. And I guess that summarizes what I believe.

No judgement. Only all acceptance in Love.

Namaste´

Demilkefying

Today is the last day that I will nurse Ryan. I made the decision to wean him. Today is the 22nd and he is 31 months old today. Hey may not be ready, but I am. And then again, I'm not.

This is so much more complicated - emotionally speaking - than anyone who has never practiced extended nursing (beyond the first few months) would be able to understand.

Why don't I feel overjoyed at the thought of FINALLY having my body back to myself?

(hm...)

Sigh.

The Number 2 News

Ryan M. A. Sawyer, also known as "Baby Ryan" is redefining one of western society's most beloved phrases.

Starting with a party in January, 2008 and continuing through the next four to five parties at a variety of venues, Ryan has felt the need to eliminate into his pull-ups at every single event.

It has even gotten to the point where Ryan's weary parents are ensuring that they pack sufficient changing paraphernalia whenever they are taking young Ryan to the festivities the family gets invited to.

At one point while changing him in yet another far removed - usually unaccessible to guests - area of someone else's home, Ryan's mother exclaimed in exasperation: "Why do you always poop at parties?!!" She followed her own rhetorical question with the answer that she needed to provide enough comic relief for this and many other moments to come:

"What are you, a (can you guess what's coming?) ...

Party Pooper?!"

And there you have it, Ryan Sawyer has redefined (or was that the original meaning?) the term we have all *previously* used to describe the would-be goofball who ruins the party.

Thanks Ryan! When it comes to parties, you're our number 2 man!

The Joy Reaper

I have been so so so consumed lately that I have neglected my writing to the point where it seems to be a brownish, mostly dead plant all forlorn in the corner. For this, I am sorry.

But DAMN!! Working full time is ... (how can I say this without swearing?) .. well it's bloody frickin HARD that's what! Man alive. I am almost ready to hunt down a big enough piece of cardboard upon which to paint a sign that reads: "WIll work for silent, alone time." Seriously. (sort of.)

Anyway, as usual, I digress. I am here to talk about the joys not the oh-my-god-how-does-anybody-surVIVE-this?! parts of parenting.

So back to the whole Farming analogy. I just harvested some boat loads of deelicious bounty!!! (It occurs to me as I think my next sentences through that there is a strong possibility that it's modernity and technology that makes parenting so hard. More on that later...)

This past 4-Day Easter weekend was AH. MAY... (wait for it... )






ZING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!






Okay so I still had to tell Ryan like seven thousand times not to touch the "Kill Fuel" thingie which comes just shy of having it's own red light district, yank me please i'm BEGGING you!!! signs all around it. And he DID fall down the "stadder" (perilously steep ladder like stairs) and he did crap on the floor in our cabin and wipe it all over the floor and he DID successfully fall over about 10 times his usual average but he had a lot - and I mean A LOT of fun. And so did Lauryn, and so did Nathan and, yes folks, so did I!

It could have something to do with the fact that we were on a boat anchored just off an tiny island that -for all intents and purposes- was our OWN private paradise for THREE days!!!

When kids can just do whatever the hell they want in the middle of nowhere with no concern in the world - that, my friends - is heaven. Not just for them. Oh no. For us too.

It was brilliant! I was so deeply truly madly in love with Lauryn I almost couln't take it. Ryan was, as usual, his embodiment of enthusiasm, zip, zeal and exuberance. But without the constraints of the Risk Factor. That is, nothing to break or be broken by. (Except for those few impediments on the boat that were briefly mentioned earlier, but it really wasn't as bad as the author made it sound.) And I was able to enjoy him for who he really is. And, come to think if it, so was everyone else.

I am so so so thankful for all the wonderful moments that made that weekend like a beautiful quilt. I feel so... well, squishy and pleased when I think of Lauryn remembering this with great fondness. These truly are the times when I get it. I get the point of the drudgery, of the mundane, of the everyday. That somehow even that is still reaping yet sowing all at once. And every so often, you get to step back and really see the sheer beauty of your life.

You get the message that these moments, like Easter eggs, are tucked in somewhat plain sight just waiting for us to notice them and put them into our little baskets we've been given.

So, yes, I may be distracted by the tears and the fights. By the seemingly endless needs and wants. Sadly and hardest to admit: sometimes I am distracted by worry about the things that I (think I) need and don't have. Yet - I see now - there is so much here already!

And therefore I stand and take a deep bow of gratitude to Life, to Love for so cleverly weaving itself into every facet of being, and then waiting so patiently to be discovered.

... Eureka!

Did somebody call?

Through a serious of un/fortunate events i have found myself exactly where i am right now. That is to say that I feel that my path/destiny/calling/vocation (any word here) has been and continues to be revealed to me. This is good. And hard. I believe I am on a journey that will cost me a great deal of tangibles in exchange for countless rewards of the intangible nature. For whatever reason, I have either chosen or been given this calling and it feels a bit strange.

It's hard to talk about without feeling like anyone listening is secretly rolling their eyes about me with anyone who makes eye contact with them simultaneously saying without saying "boy is she full of it!". Blah blah blah me me me. Come off it cian. Whatever. (All this hype and preamble, I am sure, isn't helping any so I'll get on with it already.)

No I'm not talking about being a mom, although we (mums) all know that to really mother means to trade a shit load of the tangibles for at least the 10th power amount of intangibles. Investing in the future, all that.

I feel like a strong passion about Education. Anybody who knows me well enough to know anything about me (that is, you have to have spent at least 30 minutes with me) knows that i really really really don't like what's happening in schools today. I firmly believe that the current methods of 'learnin our young'uns' is failing miserably. And hell, if you feel that way about something - guess what (Moses)? You'd better damn well get off your keester and DO SOMETHING for crying out loud! So that's what I"m doing: something.

I have a clear vision (mostly) about how my school will look. I mean the buildings (green, of course! (not the color, dufus)), the window placements (unless my learned architect says no way that's dumb), the property size, the class sizes, the children, the ... everything!

No frickin pigeon holing. No cramming heads with useless shit. No forcing kids to pretend to be mini CEO's sitting through ridiculously BO-RING meeting (read: class), after meeting, after meeting. No diagnosing every 2nd kid with AD-anything. No crap food. No pinning kids' personalities down under thumbs. NO. NO. NO.

Yes to teaching autonomy. Yes to engaging on every level. Yes to nurturing Mind Body and Spirit (No to religion!). Yes to artistic expression. Yes to creativity. Yes to finding your own way. Yes to excelling at what you like best! Yes to learning how to care for our environment. Yes to learning self respect. Yes to meditation and silent time. Yes to field trips galore! Yes to experimenting. Yes to failing and trying again. Yes to being WHO YOU ARE not who somebody else thinks you should be.

I've been praying again. And getting answers. (Thank you, Spencer Burke, thank you Brian McLaren, thank you Marianne Williamson, thank you Elizabeth Gilbert, thank you to Kristine Graham, Brandon Bays and The Journey) AND, I've been getting answers!!!. All of these people and more have facilitated my journey (no pun) out of the darkness of doubt and despair into the light of the truth of who we really are; who I really am.

Hamsa. I am That (which is divine)

And this knowledge, this Grace, this faith in the Love that dwells within me (and all of humanity - especially our children) is what propels me on to answer the call. So I stand at the bottom of a gigantic mountain, somewhat terrified about my climb to the top, but focusing on the step I need to make now.

p.s.

i just re-read my post below and realized i managed to make myself sound like i magically morphed into the perfect parent over-paragraph. (NAAAAT!!!)

just this morning is yelled out the door "JESUS H. CHRIST LAURYN! GET INSIDE NOW!!!

i felt i needed to clarify that. and also to confess that i've moved from calling ryan "baby jesus" to calling him "baby pontious pilate". not good.

holy mary, buddah, allah, jah, jehovah, yeshua - everybody! - pray for me now and at the hour of my yelling. amen.

Parenting Is ... (i've got it all figured out, donchayknow?)

my close friend and co-mother deborah and i were talking about the uphill struggle(s) of parenting small children. and we asked questions that were mostly rhetorical but actually stumbled on some helpful answers that came to us from whom i will call our "spirit guides".

she asked "why does anyone actually have children?" and the answer that came to me even as i spoke the words in response was this: (now you have to imagine the clouds parting and god-light rays shining down upon us as we stood, somewhat forlorn and tired in the doorway talking)

it is the most tangible way to change the world.

(and cut!) the angels stopped their otherworldly chorus.

okay so it's not the most brilliant bloody answer in the world, but it helped a little.

the second question was how much of the actual mechanics of parenting was meant to be enjoyable. you know: the ridiculous before-god wake ups, the packing of lunch (picture any mom standing in front of the fridge/cupboard trying to figure out what to put in the box TODAY), the night waking, the tantrums, the baths and unpredictable dinner service (will he eat THIS no? okay. yogurt?), the whole nine yards. how much of that does the average mom enjoy?

well, let me be francesca: not that much.

i like the parts where there are kisses and hugs, laughter and fun, adventures and funny quotes. i like the bonding of nursing my children. i like watching them discover. i sometimes like baking and/or cooking with Lauryn (when i'm not yelling at her about what it really means to HELP MOMMY, dammit!) that kind of stuff.

so i said (queue angels and god-light): that parenting is like farming. a whole lotta waking up at dark thirty. a whole lotta manual labor. sweat of your brow, that kinda thing. a whole lotta watching over and tending to. and then there are the bountiful rewards. the beauty of fresh and perfect. the moments when you know why the dark thirty - or just accept it. the times when the sound of whining and bodies hitting the floor in frustration are far, far, far away from your thoughts. when you child laughs and your heart sings.

so keep on farming and changing the world one hug at a time.

one too many

even though i don't actually feel like i'm dying, i keep thinking that i feel like i'm dying.

today has been the last in a long line of difficult days spanning the last - oh, three or four years. they've not been all in a row mind you. or else i would most definitely be ashes by now. just this was a hard one.

i feel heavy inside like someone snuck up and attached rocks to the shoe laces on my heart. but why? why?

to be honest it's just one of those days where parenting feels like a continuous uphill struggle. one of those days with two, possibly eight too many meltdowns and tantrums. one too many times when i wondered 'how the hell are we going to pay for that?' one too many times when i felt like i'd suddenly been plopped in the middle of no-trucking-where and left with two screaming toddlers attached to my legs. one too many moments where i felt like one person cannot possibly be needed this (GD) much.

i wish i had the answers. i wish i knew everything. i wish parenting could be downloaded into my head. i wish i had enough to pay for the things i think i need. like four new tires and a mechanic to look at that awful bumping sound the car makes when you veer left.

jesus this is hard. but just today. just today.

for me, this has been one hard day too many.


but.



i am gonna pull up my bootstraps (or laces or whatever the hell - maybe shoe buckles, or really stick that velcro closure, that would be the easiest option) and do it all again tomorrow. with vim and vigor. with grace and love. with the knowledge that i have everything i need to do right now. and that that is all i really need.

deep breath in.

and out.

hi, i'm mary and these are my baby jesuses

i have to preface my story by saying that i believe that jesus was some special kinda guy. to say the least. i really think his whole message was "look, this (pointing at himself) is YOU! no, really." that is to say, we are all jesus. we all have that potential. so in that light, i have taken to calling my children - my son in particular - baby jesus.

the reason i do that is because he is actually very difficult to not kill sometimes. i've called him a great many names, but i think that calling him 'baby jesus' will really help me to preserve his well being.

i mean... you know those times when your two year old son .. (hmm? what's that? you don't have a two year old son? my bad. (god it must be nice to have your sanity though, isn't it)).. ehem, as i was saying: you know thos times when MY two year old son grabs every single soliatary thing he can reach (including bottles, remotes, dish brushes, KNIVES, that kinda thing) and runs off and then throws it down on the floor? or when he pulls his sister's hair and grabs the toys she's TRYING to play with just to aggravate her (oh yes, he's calcuating). or when he just says mommy about 367,295,235 times a minute. OR the times when he knocks you - i mean ME - squarely in the eye with his knee or head? well, it's times like those - especially two or three of those random incidents in a row or all together at the same time - that just, well, let's say cause me to have "unhappy" thoughts about my son.

however since the very inspired idea, i have found that i can look below the evilness and see that there really is a pure love underneath it all. i'm sorry, did i say "evilness"? ha ha. silly me, i mean to say "very developmentally appropriate toddler behavior". slip of the fingers there.

though, i'm not sure how helpful it is when i call him 'crazy jesus' under my breath...

(hmm)

chew chew snore

one night ryan was SO tired he could hardly stay awake (we've all seen that before!) but i just wanted to share the video of that. worth a smile at least. :)

One Minute Shift

God's living room

at the dinner table tonight we sat and held hands to pray, like we always do. and lauryn says the prayer (kinda like she always does) and it went a little something like this:

God is good. Thank you for having us. God is in our hearts and in the sky and has really big furniture... (of course me and nathan start to laugh to ourselves then she outs us and says) ... and thank you for giggling... and for ponies and... it goes on for a while with random things and we finally have to sort of encourage her to end.

i just had to tell you about God's really big furniture in the sky. i thought that was funny.

fuming at fumento

i tried to email this letter to mr. fumento but it was returned to me. i feel i have no other choice but to write this open letter on my own blog. (hope you've found this, sir.)

mr. fumento,

re: http://www.fumento.com/disease/thimerosal.html

as a parent who opposes the widespread and irresponsible administration of vaccinations, i came to your site to hear from the other side of the debate. (could it be true that thimersol is not at all harmful???)

i was willing and prepared to read your article about thimersol until i scrolled down and saw the photo you placed of Jenny McCarthy, indicating that her intellectual capacity was the same as her bra size.

how can anyone with even the tiniest amount of their own intellectual capacity take you seriously when you would use such immature and childish tactics to comment on your disapproval of Ms. McCarthy's opinions?

you may actually know what you're talking about, i give you that. but you show a complete lack of respect for other people's right to their opinion, and, by so doing, have forfeited your own.

why am i writing this tirade? you may delete this and never give it another thought. which would be expected.

i think i am hoping to show you that character assassination is not the way to promote your truth. disagree with ms. mccarthy if you choose. but please refrain from digging up old realities in an effort to frame a new one the way you want it to be seen. that is not the way of truth.

cts

On Being Odorous

i smell like rained-on-dirt, onions and crushed leaves.

at least, my armpits do.

and it doesn't really bother me (like i would think it would). maybe i was french in a former life. who knows? but i'm starting to feel like we try too hard to smell like not the earth. i mean, granted, i don't think i'd want to smell everyone with that particular "color" body aroma all the time but on the flip side of that: the obsessive compulsive drive to smell like gardenias and jasmine and floaty yellow things has to be balanced somewhere with the acceptance of our rise from the brown earthiness from which all these other things grow too.

body odor, like so many other culturally uncomfortable things, are a part of life. one more thing to mask and cover up to pretend that we are flowers instead of people.

just a thought...

one of the classics

first of all, i get the feeling that this post is really just something for me to read in a month or two when i have nothing to do and i feel like reading my own writing.

however, if you are not me and you're reading this - that's pretty amazing! welcome.

i just had to share the latest and greatest story as moms often do. and this way i'm not stopping every living, breathing thing to 'share' my oh-so-special story. it's just here and readily available to anyone who wants to know.

okay, setting the scene: wednesday morning, the little schoolhouse, nassau

it was circle time and miss helen was introducing the new topic of the week: compassion. does anybody know what compassion is? she asked. in her words: lauryn's hand shot up immediately. she thinks to herself oh, maybe she really does know what compassion is.

yes, lauryn? what is compassion?

I KNOW! says lauryn with all the enthusiasm and confidence of a brilliant mad-scientist four year old.

it's when you're allergic to somebody. she proudly announces.

in the other room, principal/kindergarten teacher - miss kara - laughs out loud: now that's a classic!

and in the sawyer household: it IS.

leapster CrapStart

i'm about to go can-a-whoop-a$$ on the Leap Frog family of products, just so you know. (like you couldn't tell from my title.)

so i just watched an ad on TV for this leap frog "clickstart" (the title [of this entry] is clickable so you can see the product i'm wail on) and was - once again - disgusted by the shit that is going on with kids today. so the scene is a young boy, about age 3-ish and he's playing on this toy computer. the mom comes up and starts telling him that what he's really doing is learning his shapes. NAAAH! says the boy. the mom presses and tells him he's learning his colors (or something like that) and he says NAAAAAH! and still she pushes and says oh yes, you are learning (get ready for this, it's the big one)

all the stuff you're gonna need for preschool.

did you get that folks? stuff he's going to need FOR preschool.

are these people for real?? SERIOUSLY?! now we need to get our kids "ready for preschool"? it's PRE. SCHOOL. as in: previous to school. the dictionary defines "pre" as: prefix occurring originally in loanwords from Latin, where it meant “before” (preclude; prevent); applied freely as a prefix, with the meanings “prior to,” “in advance of,” “early,” “beforehand,” “before,” “in front of,” and with other figurative meanings (preschool; prewar; prepay: preoral; prefrontal)..

and school (which has many definitions but i've chosen the most applicable) as: 1. an institution where instruction is given, esp. to persons under college age: [eg.] The children are at school. and 2. any place, situation, etc. tending to teach anything.


now we need to get our kids READY for the school they go to, to get ready for more school? so now they need to have all their shapes, colors, numbers and letters down before they go the place that's already teaching this stuff way too early. this is just GREAT.

"Timmy, no pressure or anything but you need to make sure you are at the top of your game for preschool. Can't be a slacker, you know. It's tough out there... So how about them shapes and numbers then." And the best part? Mommy doesn't have to be around.

Now, I can't wag my finger too hard at parents who need a break and employ the EBS (electronic baby-sitter) because that's what NOGGIN does for me more often than I care to admit. But my agenda is not to have the kids "learn something" from watching TV. we all know TV kills brains! (to be honest, it keeps ryan out of my hair for a few moments of peace and no-injuries-involved quiet.) and parents are fooling themselves if they think that buying these ridiculous battery operated "teachers" for their kids is going to help them any. i don't know (m)any adults that absolutely LOVE being attended to by automated, mechanical voices for mere seconds on the phone, let alone that grating robotic voice being your company and entertainment all day. kids need SO SO SO much more than toys that are supposed to teach them something. truth is they don't need that AT ALL. rather toys that will water and fertilize their very ripe imagination.

kids are not people with empty head that need to be filled!!! they have so much to offer our world. they need to be engaged, heard and respected as individuals.

A.S. Neil, founder of The Summerhill School best summarises my not humble enough opinion on what kids really need to foster optimum growth and development of the whole person. (please click the link and read the page. it's well worth it!)

parents, PLEASE - give your kids the best start: ludicrous, ridiculous, scandalous, perposterous, illogical unheard of amounts of unstructured PLAY, PLAY and MORE PLAY! trust me - it's ALL they need!!!

for me, my goal as a parent is not to have (raised) the smartest (= richest) adult on the block, but instead the most whole, happy, well-adjusted, loving, kind person s/he can be. and if my kids are happy 'sweeping streets' (to quote Neil), then so be it. can you imagine what we could do for the next generation if we stop perpetuating the lie that more money = more happiness?

house in a good neighborhood: $300,000
decent transportation: $20,000
being comfortable in your own skin:

priceless.

Ayudame! Rarrr, rarrrr!

Quoted verbatim from my dear son's cries for help this morning as he was helplessly trapped in the dreaded high chair. I sat scarfing my own breakfast when he had finished his and began to call out for help. "Help! Help! Ayudame! Rarrr, rarrr!" (this is the baby jaguar growl, by the way). While I did, indeed, find his situation quite amusing - i was not moved to rush to his aid as I knew it meant that he would then be scaling the mommy mountain to achieve greatness and also a little attention.

On the dark side...

I am stuck knee deep in the thick, quick-sand like mud of unknowing. What am I supposed to do about my stunt double of a a son's infatuation with hitting, pushing and biting people? This, for him, is like joyriding on a Friday night. The only book I have looked at speaks to addressing behaviors like these expressed in frustration on the child's part, but he's as happy as a clam when he's injuring and maming. "NO Baby Ryannnnnnnnnn!" cries sister Lauryn after being hit or pushed for the millionth time that minute. I mean, honestly. How many times can i FIRMLY say (without yelling (98, no 90% of the time)): "RYAN. NO HITTING (pushing, biting)!!!" (even as i type, nathan is out in the living room saying the same "ryan" i use as preventative harmony maintenance.)

Still, he's so funny. He just came in here and told me that he's really fast. As in "Mommy! I ree faaas," But I really DON'T know what to do with his socially unacceptable behavior. is this a phase? Will it pass before his 20th birthday? is there a chance that I could actually pinch (twist, that is) his ear OFF his head? I used to pinch his ear but that was funny to him (sad to Lauryn - go figure) until Nathan demonstrated the evil demon twist and damn near killed me, then i started doing that to ryan. But even that doesn't help. He'll recover from the weeping and wailing and nail someone (innocent bystanders, kids.. whoever!) without remorse.

Hmmm.

Lauryn in the meantime, is absolutely LOVING the little summer camp I've been doing for the past two weeks from the adjoining (or adjourning, according to the Bahamian classifieds) flat. I have to say that I am also really enjoying the group of kids that have been coming to play.

She's so excited about her upcoming birthday. Everything she sees that she'd like to have (yay, capitalism!), she asks if she can have it for her birthday. And I say "sure, dahling". Even though you and I know she's only getting one thing. But it's gonna big a BIG one thing. We're getting a puppy!!!! Not just for her birthday but for other reasons as well. Namely that we (I) really like the idea of a family pet and we need a presence in our yard at night to keep the jonesers (street people) that wonder through our area OUT. They already stole the gas tank off the grill that was sitting by the laundry room.

So, with all the birthdays coming up, I'm sure we're in for some exciting times next month.

If anyone at all reads this (besides me in a couple weeks), I would love some tips or advice if you've had personal experience with hitters/biters.

Until next time (hopefully not bloody OCTOBER!).

let it all hang out. ;)

summer '07 - so far so good

so we're rounding third base for july and we've been having a great summer!

we had our little trip to FL to visit Grandma Peeches for her 50th b-day and that was lovely. And since we got back on the 2nd of this month we've been to the pool or beach what feels like almost every day. (did u get that?) Lauryn is getting her lovely summer brown on. Ry is getting his summer brownER and so am i.

we've had one notable incident though. and that is that lauryn has since recieved two haircuts! TWO haircuts? yes, t-w-o: 2! The first was by her dear friend Will. And the second was by a kind professional who finished up what Will started. The story: Deborah, Alison and I were sitting and chatting (at D's house) and having a lovely visit when Lauryn came out from Wills room grinning eager beaver grins from ear to ear. Look, Mom! She proudly said as she stood not 2 feet from my face. I began to dole out the usual mommy praises (read artificial enthusiasm) for her hair so neatly combed back and then -

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Deborah and i saw it at the exact moment together. so make that a double AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!! Poor Alison was bewildered and confused thinkign something must be desperately wrong (injuries, big scary bugs and such delights). Meanwhile Deborah was up like a bolt and in the room like a flash. Where she found Will, scissors and big clumps of dark curls resting somewhat menacingly on the floor.

I sat fingering the spot that used to be lauryn's hair. It wasn't shorn but it was low. He had basically trimmed all the hair around her face. Mostly the top (giving bangs, i guess) and taken a few bits off the sides. or so we thought... Then i opened up her plait and started finding many more yet unfallen clumps. oh, it was sad saad saaad. but still we managed to giggle under our breaths as we admonished the non-haircutting rules with sternish faces and pointing fingers waving.

righteous retribution? i asked Deborah. After all, Lauryn did cut Sagey's hair a couple of months back. And she (Sagey) ended up with a mangled version of a half mullet on one side. But there were, thankfully, silver linings to be had. Sagey's fix turned out to be a super cute cut that we all ADORE! And lauryn now has 'fringes' in the front which makes it waysuperawesome better for with the swimming because she doesn't have all that hair in her face. (her hair grows forward, you see.)

it seems this whole hair chop thing is a sort of right of passage for young girls everywhere. i, myself, carved out a little patch at the front of my head when i wanted bangs as a little girl of four.

alas, we think it's kind of the story of the summer (so far, fingers crossed) and look forward to splish splashing much much more in the weeks ahead. hopefully i will dig up another nugget of time where i can post again in the near future. until then, live long and prosper. (goofy star trek sign here)

shameless plug (II)

like the overstressed, overtired mom who forgets to take her pill, i have started yet another blog. (sad, sad, sad)

but there were things i wanted to talk about that didn't fit either of the forums of my first two. so, welcome into the family the newest blog Live! From the Fan.

if you are sensitive (yeah right), watch out - i actually spell out the words i've been abbreviating here. (WTF etc.) just to give fair warning is all.

see you around!

Marker my words

so, the most recent in the long string of dramas and events that make up my mothering journey (good lord, is it really like that? drama to drama? not really no but it sounds SO much more interesting when i say it like that, doesn't it?) ... where was i? oh yes the mothering journey. well, the most recent event was quite - how shall i say? - traumatizing. yes, traumatizing - that's good. the thing wasn't good but the term is quite appropriate.

so what's this major drama? pull up your chair and sit awhile partners. it's storytellin' time.

my darling daughter was at a our second home (everybody knows whose house i'm talking about) and while i was taking a little 'nap' she got into some trouble. got into? no she made some trouble. she had been graffiti-ing on the two newly bought, newly painted chests of drawers with chalk (thank god!) and she got caught by dear Janet. she was told in no uncertain terms NOT to do that - DON'T WRITE ON THE DRAWERS! - because it was naughty and then the chalk was cleaned off the drawers. that was that. she was left to her own - well behaved - devices...

well, somehow - maybe through black magic or something - she found a RED MARKER.

stop.

no really, stop.

i said RED MARKER.

oh i know you know what happened next. but you have NO idea how much it happened. it happened all over the front of the tall one - i mean every drawer face - and a little 'footnote' in the form of a huge pointy roundish something with a little friend beside it on the front of one drawer on the small chest of drawers.

all this was completely unbeknownst to me even after i woke up and took 20 minutes to gather my children, NOTICE and remark on the red marker on her clothes, and leave. it wasn't till later that dearest deborah called to talk to me about it that i even had the foggiest clue of what had happened.













(all that space is shocked, stony, angry silence)











i was really pissed. so i waited till the next morning to speak to lauryn about it.

WTF, Lauryn?

she said she wanted to make it beautiful. but why did you do it after your were told not to?
because it was too much fun to stop.

do you see the psychological warfare i'm up against here people? these are comparable to WMD's!

of course i get it that she's only almost four. but she still needed her to know that it was completelty unacceptable. so she got a good stern talking to from us, a long time out from playing at deborah's (three days), and from watching anything at all on TV and she had to try to clean it off the drawers and she had to apologize to deborah (and rick?) and we all loved her anyway.

does this mean she'll never use a marker on an inappropriate surface ever again for the rest of her whole life?






what do you think?

Momster me... ROAR!!!

hey it's perfect mom me back from la-la land. back to reality. the reality where i am actually sometimes a monster of a mom. it's really hard for me to admit this into vast open space for everyone one to see, but transparency makes it better for others. (right?) anyway, i had a crappy morning and lauryn was (unintentionally) driving me crazy. a million zillion questions, 90% of which were the single, three letter word question: why? or actually, she says "'cause why?"

it was only about 930 when my little red i-have-had-enough-of-this light started blinking with increasing speed and intensity. 930 AM and i was done. how awful am i?

it was just one of those days when every. single. dogvomit thing was a huge BATTLE! you ever have one of those? is the pope still catholic?

so all this to say that by the time we arrived at our destination at 1145 and i had parked the car and looked around at lauryn and saw her oozing green nose (yummy!) after i had TOLD her to GET A TISSUE AND WIPE IT before we left the house, i snapped like a dry twig. and i said to her, DIDN'T I TELL YOU TO WIPE YOUR NOSE BEFORE WE LEFT THE HOUSE, LAURYN?! and i grabbed a wipe with all kinds of malicious intent and reached around to wipe her face. but she pre-empted me and her hand shot up to her face where she began to use the back of her hand to drag that yummy goodness across her cheek. did i already say that i had snapped? because that was a lie. it was at this point that i growled at her and almost screamed: NO!!!!!!!!!!! and she froze. then i tried to wipe the crap off her face and she pulled back (snap! growl.) GIVE YOUR FACE TO ME!!!

can you imagine the scene? and literally, within seconds she was talking and acting like nothing had transpired between us. i mean, about 3 seconds. is she really that forgiving? that innocent? can she actually just let go like that? or will this come up in 20 years on a doctor's couch?

i really hate when i act like that. i was running it over and over again on the loop in my mind for hours after. feeling awful. but then i followed suit and forgave me. i think everyone involved knows i'm not actually evil. not perfect. but not evil either. how about you?

my bug-eyed beaut'

you know how sometimes on tv they have the elapsed time photography of something magical that usually happens in a shroud of mystery, but then they go there and set up their cameras and wait and wait and then we get to sit at home and watch it happen in seconds? (what is that like a 50 word sentence?)

but you know what i mean - the amazing flower going from tiny little bud to amazing burst of color and majesty right before your very eyes. like that.

sometimes i feel like i'm watching that - a little bit, not a lot (kind of like the 2-second loop of the weather moving 1cm on the radar) - with my daughter, lauryn. it's like she's ever so gently, ever so slowly unfurling right before my very eyes. and some days i stand in genuine awe and amazement to see the beauty and the joy that is my daughter. that is lauryn. not my daughter, really - just her very own self.

there are moments when the intoxicating fragrance of her catches me be surprise and i have to stop what i'm doing and breathe deeply. drinking her into my very cells. her laugh. her determination. her spark. those big tropical sky-like brown eyes- mostly sunny and clear, but sometimes uncertain, even rainy. her still-tiny hands on my face, arms tightly clinging to my neck. the actual feel of her skin under my lips. that she still fits in my lap. her delight in living things - especially animals. these are the moments when i feel so tinkerbell-ish; like i've been sprinkled with fairy dust and i really could just float away with my happy thought that is lauryn elisabeth.

she caught a frog yesterday. and i was so proud. i felt like - like i had the coolest kid on the block. did you know lauryn caught a frog? i said to everyone with ears. tell 'em, lauryn - i said almost gloating (i bet your kid doesn't catch frogs.) but not quite (thank god because, really that's not at all what it was about). and she was proud too. she wanted to tell everyone. and she did. and, of course, when our audiences were duly impressed, i would fill in that she catches lizards too. regularly. (can you see the aloof smirk on my face?) oh yes, she really is something else, isn't she?

i love feeling this way about lauryn. i wish it was possible to feel those feelings 24/7 (do i really wish that? i guess that would be nice.) but alas, this is the real world and i sho nuff don't. but for now, let's just revel in this bliss. let's flounce carelessly in the fairytale fields and meadows of the times when we are fully aware of - immersed in - the magic and wonder of our children, for they are not so close together as we'd like them to be.

i'll close with a quote from Anne Lammot's superaweseomgreat book, Plan B (this is majorly paraphrased due to the slow but steady removal of my brain tissue through my breasts over the last 4 years)... blah blah blah here it is: unconditional love is real and attainable, it's just that it only lasts for about 8 to 10 seconds at a time.

NQP Curriculum (Primary School)

i really wanted to show you why i am so excited about this school. Here is the official site for the creators of the curriculum. Specifically, it's the page about the primary school curriculum.

looks doubtful that I'll be able to teach there anytime soon, however, as they have some requirements that I don't currently meet. more on that later. right now, I MUST get to bed.

nighty night.

fairytales for feminists: ode to elisabeth

another one of my agenda's, i guess:

feminism.

really, i'm about "humanism" but sometimes you have to pick a group and fight for them to gain status (africans, for example). and the glass ceiling is real people. lots of women are reaching for the short end of the stick and the don't even know it. what do i mean by that?

settling for mediocre mates.
feeling inadequate without one.
walking out of the room.
believing in an inherant weakness.
forgetting that the divine is equally as feminine as she is masculine.
(are we or are we not made in the image of God(dess) and we ARE women, right?)
and much more!!

so, thanks to inspiration by some forward thinking friends (hey girls!) i have revamped my storytelling so that women aren't always helpless victims that need rescuing by sword weilding, crown wearing heroes. last night i created my ode to elisabeth.

prince rafael always had a hard time listening to his mother. as a young boy, a teenager and even as a young man. (i figure i shouldn't deviate too much from the standard terminology till i'm deeper in the water.) anyway, he grew up well enough and loved to take walks in his vegetable garden. where he grew all kinds of wonderful, healthy veggies so that he could be strong and smart. zucchini, potatoes, broccoli - you name it; (no seriously. you name it! you can put in your own list here). so one day while walking in his garden, poor prince rafael stumbled and hit his head and fell into a deep, deep (deep) sleep.

meanwhile... (i'm enjoying this a little too much, i think)

in the next QUEENdom over, there was a lovely princess called elisabeth. sshe was always kind and good and took good care of her little brother (i'm not kidding. i said that.) she never pushed or hit and always LOVEd to share everything she had. she also had special magical powers of healing. and so people from all over came to her for her to touch them with her kindness and love. (inspired by a story i saw on 20/20 on friday about a living Goddess in india called Amma who hugs people, i also said that princess elisabeth gave the best hugs ever!) but most of all, she LOVED animals. here i listed a litany of every furry, shelled, crawling, cold-blooded, minute, enormous animal i could think of that came to her for healing for themselves as well. (at this point in the story, lauryn enthusiastically interjected that princess elisabeth "is me, mommy!!!") and said that coincidentally elisabeth also had lovely brown skin and dark brown curly hair and the biggest most beautiful dark brown eyes you'd ever seen. so big, i said, she held the world in them. (damn! i'm good)

well, princess elisabeth got word of the tragedy with prince rafael and decided at once to ride on her beautiful mare "midnight" where she was warmly welcomed by prince rafael's worried mom. and elisabeth gained an audience with the (comatose - haha) prince and she gently and lovingly touched his shoulder and he woke up. and he was so thankful to her that they became best friends. and he showed her his vegetable garden and they grew veggies together and took long rides in the coutnry together and loved being with each other so much that they decided to build a new castle together and share their lives together as friends. (i guess i could've thrown some economic justice in but the story was already chockoblock full. i'll come up with another story for that.)

isn't that a nice story? i know i'll tell that one again and again. (if she wants to hear it!) "mom! enough with the agenda stories! can't you just tell me regular old goldie locks?"

just doing my job...

mother to mother

dear mothers,

i am just thinking about this journey we are on as a group and as individuals. i am thinking about the beauty of who we are and what doing with our lives and in our children's lives. i am honored to be a mother and i honor you, mother.

mother.
we are connected, each of us, to the quiet strength of our Mother Earth.
we pass on our strenghts to our daughters, and to our sons.
we are responsible for the coming of a new day; a new generation of human beings.
we are the roots of the trees of our families.
we are the soft place that our beloved comes to rest.
we are the sparkle on the ocean
the light of the moon
the whisper of the wind
the rhythm of the world.

i honor you mother. your strength, your beauty, your love.

getting an edumacation in para-(medic please!-)dise

first off. sorry it's been like 10 years since i've last posted. i am trying not to say that i was in the vortex that is my life, but i don't seem to be able to help it. this thirteen jobs business is kicking my but. thirteen? let's see...

dishes
clothes
play-group
nursing (that's two: am and pm)
talking to my preschooler (over and over and over and over and over and over again)
recovering from this op. (almost over. yaay!)
cooking
waking up every morning
strapping kids into their car-seats (don't scoff. when it's more than one kid, it counts as employment!)

i think that might be it. so i lied. call it exaggeration. anyway, my latest job has been sorting out lauryn's schooling. since the home school thing isn't looking too - let's just say it - pretty. oh, i AM starting a home school - a play-group in my apartment to be more "pacific". (i've always wondered how come those people never were "atlantic" about anything.) anyway, it's going to be called the spectrum play school. i still hope to pull of the montessori thing in the next couple of years but in the meantime, it will be a thrice weekly for 2's and 2 1/2's.

(have you noticed that i have yet to get to the subject line of this post? well, i DID mention it last paragraph but let's just get to it then, shall we?)

disclaimer: the thoughts, views and opinions expressed at milkshaken will not reflect those of the reader. you may not like it, but don't be offended because every mom does what she feels is best. and then there are those moms who risk martyring themselves to do better than that. i relinquish all responsibility for anybody's feeling offended cause that's not about me. nuff said.

lauryn will be going (we hope) to the little schoolhouse in september. most of you already know that i am a very firm believer in no academic learning for young children. i think it is absolute BS. this ridiculous race to the illusion of a finish line has trickled all the way down into the pre-schools and i am pissed off at the shit that i hear about at some schools. for example there is a local school that's well respected. the owner is quite a lovely individual and i do not wish to mar her credentials so i will not name the school. let's just call it "the top school". the group of kids there that are 3 at that start of the school year are now learning how to write their names. let me say that again. THREE. LEARNING TO WRITE THIER NAMES. i really am heartbroken. and i have a friend whose child is being threatened to be HELD BACK. HELD BACK. if s/he doesn't learn how to do this by june. this child will not be four until after june. people are you hearing me? this isn't even pre-kindergarten here. that is some shit. i've mentioned it to a couple of early learning specialists and they - traditional as they were - were equally flabbergasted.

so there are really one a few options on the island for schooling: (i'll use fake names to protect the schools' identities)

monarch way- not even if it was free and the last school standing. everyone there is vomiting (anti) jesus crap that will darken any light that remains in the soul.

prime and anti - too far. no high school (major problem) and the curriculum is really really heavy. so no.

elizabeth's choice (EC) - went for the tour. the ELC is NOT an option. more on that later.

sandy port kids club - btdt. too far. waiting for AL to retire either way.

not quite presbyterian (NQP) - costs a ton of cash. went for the tour anyway. here lies the crux of my sad state of affairs.

now for the stories. for me, it had come down to EC because it was a good school and it was close by and relatively affordable. with ideals like mine: montessori learning, no rushing kids, lots of space to run and play, a pool and a good sports programme - it is impossible to find the perfect school. (here in para-medic please-dise). but i figured if we skip the ELC (which i've heard countless scary stories about) and just started in the primary school it would be OK. well, deborah went to book the space and - surprise surprise - it's almost impossible to get in without going through the ELC. so we went back and did the tour to see for ourselves if it was as scary as some had made it out to be. sad news. it was. i am tormented by the image of three year olds (turning four during the school year) with big red X's and check marks and SCORES on their WORKSHEETS. count the beans, glue them down in quantities from 1 to 10. that was the task. fair enough (i guess, but not really) and they were graded. what TF is that? deborah and i left and we were reeling. we were almost prepared to deal with the writing in pre-k, the lack of good toys, the computer in the class - those big red X's were the little breeze that blew us over and now we were stuck. now what?

ACT II

my brain had the lovely little idea to "just have a look see" at what NQP has to offer. this, for me, was kind of like saying i need a watch, let's just nip into patek phillipe to see what they have. mostly ridiculous since i can only really afford a citizen but i happen to know that they (PP) make very good watches.

naturally, i went for the tour at NQP and it was WONDABAR! INCREDIBLE!! AMAZING!!! The classrooms were like little shrines to most of my ideologies. (of course.) no letters/numbers on the walls. just really neat creative stuff. they were doing eric carle books and had done artwork to match the story. they were learning about how humans coexist with animals. they have a fantastic library with gallery floor seating for the little ones. they have a huge, fantastic music room. no religious stuff. reading doesn't start till reception (kindergarten) and even then they only get books when each child is ready. no computer in the class. no graded work as far as the eye could see. just lots of color and wonder all around the room. monthly parent-teacher talks. parents can come it at 2:15 and share in story time. folders done at year's end to show the progress through the year. (this is how rex drew mom and dad in september - circles - and this is how max is now drawing mom and dad in may - circles with lines for legs and facial features.) i really was impressed and i had to keep my jaw from being slack with wonder and aww. no kidding. it was that good. so what's the problem? the little thing i haven't mentioned yet: tuition. and i say tuition because "school fees" just wouldn't cover it. sort of like calling a luxury million foot yacht a boat. it's right. but it isn't.

twenty six seven hundreed dollars per term... for kindergarten! that's 2-7. hundred. kindergarten. it increases for each grade level. so now what?

ACT III

get a job teaching there. the vice-principal who gave the tour said that the discount for teachers is generous and was made even more so just this year as there were still some teachers who couldn't afford to send their kids there and the admin thought that was insane. so i finish my degree and teach there. or, get a part time job and earn $400/week working from 10 to 2 every day.

FINALE

bottom line, i know i'm going to get flak for my decision (just like natural birth, co-sleeping, extended nursing, un-schooling, healthy eating and all that) but i am a mother who intends to do the absolute best i can for these people whose lives have been entrusted to me. and i will do what it takes for them to get the kind of education i think is best. like i said to nathan, it won't be easy. it won't be pretty at times but i will show up for these kids. i will be home when they are home and i will find a way to work and make the money i need to while they are in school. and it will cost me a lot (personally) but this is what i've signed up for. so look for bitching and moaning on the side.


yeah baby.

Sharing a Story

Dear Friends,

I subscribe to a list for individuals associated with lactation (professionals, usually) and the message below was recently posted. I just wanted to share it with you as well:

_ _ _ _ _

Ronald McDonald House asks our family to leave for breastfeeding!
------
My sister and I are staying in the Ronald McDonald House in Houston because
one of her 17 month old twins had to have brain surgery to remove a tumor
last week. The RMH has been great and we have felt so blessed to find such a
safe and homey place to take care of her other two children and my daughter
while we are here for Tobin's recovery.

However yesterday my sister, who is nursing the twins, was asked to stop
nursing in the communal area of the Ronald McDonald House and to take it up
to her room. She was shocked! After his surgery her son will basically only
drink breastmilk and it is the only thing that eases the constant pain and
anxiety he feels. She told them that it was illegal, according the Texas
state law, to ask a breastfeeding mother to stop nursing in any public or
private place. She also tried to explain to them how inconvenient it would
be for her to take all her children up 3 floors to their room every time her
sick child needs to nurse.

Unfortunately after 30 minutes of arguing, and being threatened with being
kicked out, she was in tears and they weren't backing down. So I headed down
there to talk to the administrator because I am also nursing my three year
old daughter. I even pulled up the state law on my laptop and after a
lengthy discussion the administrator acted as if she was going to examine
the law so she understood it and move on. I thought that was the end of it.

Today I find out they may be kicking us out of the RMH because we refused to
comply with what they call their "interpretation of the law". Their
interpretation is that if they provide somewhere else for us to nurse they
don't have to let us nurse in public places. Since when do laws get to be
personally tailored to an organizations needs?

This is a ridiculous and terrible situation for all of us, I am not sure
what else we will do if we can't stay here but we can't just not nurse our
children. The Ronald McDonald is such a great resource, why do they have to
discriminate against nursing moms?

If you would like to send a letter we would appreciate it. Arlene Whatley is
The Executive director of The Holcombe location of the RMH where we are
staying and one of the people who Jessica spoke to about this. It is Arlene
that seems to be making the decision here. Her email is
awhatley@rmhhouston.org and her phone is (713) 795-3570.

_______ [end quote]

If you are so inclined, please take action on these women's and children's behalf. Many thanks!

the gap

for parents who know they plan to have more than one child, the biggest question is usually how far apart should we space them? before kids (BK) i always knew i wanted a two year gap between my kids. one year was just too short (afterall i did give up my catholocism) and three years seemed too far apart.

then i had lauryn. tan-tan taaaan! (that's the "doom" music, incase you missed that.)

anyway, i am fighting the urge to state the painfully obvious fact that this was what we like to call "a reality check". it's such a lovely fairy world BK. you have all kinds of plans and dreams complete with the slightly blurred, misty edges to them and then boom. you have the actual baby.

and your world is reduced to:
what day is it again? (actually, forget what day - what TIME is it?)
she needs to eat AGAIN?
she's up AGAIN?
she's got a poopy diaper AGAIN?
she needs to eat AGAIN? ALREADY?
what day is it?

yeah yeah. you get the picture. if you happen to feed your baby yourself, the above questions are peppered with other more critical questions and exclamations like:

is this the right hold?
is she latched on right?
(OH MY GOD THAT HURTS!!!)
is this the right hold?
is she latched on right?
(OH MY GOD THAT REALLY HURTS!!!)
maybe like this?
ohhh. like this!
wow. that doesn't hurt.

let's not even talk, moms, about the unbelievable "discomfort" in our birthing spots. OUCH! whether it was the tube or the emergency exit - that is some major "discomfort" (translation: mind altering PAIN!)

so then the question of the second child gets pushed out the back door into the dark, dusty storage shed that's conveniently covered up by brush and vines. and for us, the [PLANNED] delay was also about practical decisions: i needed to go back to school, work etc. etc.

then it happened.

oh, you know what i'm talking about. IT. HAPPENED. and we concieved another baby when lauryn was 15 months old. just like i had originally planned and then un-planned. and unto us another child was born. exactly 2 years and 4 days after our first. and for me it was - well - a vacuum. time disappeared. it was all at once stopped yet hemmoraging into space. life was babies, feeding and diapers and no sleep. ever. for a while there, i would say that i truly lost myself. and that was very, very hard for me. in all honesty, the first six months were like being blindfolded, spun around in a strange room and running at full speed into everything. lots of stuff didn't make it. the wonderful ideals that were carved in limestone BK soon eroded into real life sand. enter TV, disposable diapers, KFC. anything at all that looked like a lifesaver ring in my roaring ocean of double motherhood.

alas, this may be construed as a digression. my original intention was not - as it may seem - to bemoan all the ginormous but surmountable odds of having two children in two years (and 4 days), but to talk about how all that is now turning into a vision of a glamorous beach in paradise. note i said a vision.

the two of them are really starting to develop a relationship. playing and laughing together and keeping each other company. (some or most of the time). my secondary role now, i would say is more of a referee than the whole damn team. okay, 80% of the team. (yes 80. when milk starts coming out of HIS nipples, then it might be 50/50). i really can see the benefit of the 2yr gap starting to sprout a little. (i have to rush my closing arguments because i need to get going.)

having had this experience, i still think 2yrs is a great space for long term relationships with the sibs. but i think, in this day and age, the best way (not the only way, just the best way,) is to have full time help. a live in nanny if you can afford it. but only for 2 or more kids. not with one. no offence to parents of one, but after my two - one was a walk in the park. and i do think i would want a third (insert collective gasp here), it would be on the condition that i don't have to work till s/he is about 6 and i would have to have a live in home helper.

in light of these statements, i would like to take a moment to offer my sincerest praise to every mom out there who's doing it alone or "quasi" alone (you know what i mean). i have a lot of respect for you and i take my bra off to you!

signing off to referee some more...

un-supernanny

i hardly EVER watch this show. but since heros has been on holiday, i caught one episode supernanny the other week. and it was the one episode where she did a crap job. she made this poor woman wean her baby because it was "an unhealthy relationship". boy you know that put a bee in my bonnet! i wanted to get up and write ABC that very second. but i was too tired. (LOL)

she said the woman was doing wrong because she was still wearing her 14 month old baby and nursing her to boot. now, i will say she was doing pure nonsense with the older kid. letting him back talk like nobody's business at 12 years old. jo did good with that one. but someone (me?) needs to inform miss frost about the fact that human milk is for human babies. we are not now and will never be baby cows (which is who cow's milk was intended for.) the WHO, LLL, UNICEF and anybody with sense about human feeding will tell you to nurse up to two years and beyond. hell, even the politically crippled AAP says up to one year and beyond.

come on people.

come on.

[maybe i should still write that letter after all.]

what the hell do i know?

less than six months away from my big 30th birthday, i ask the question: how come life still feels so much like trial and error? will i ever be able to make good, sound decisions? is there ever a time when one has 20/20 foresight?

i am at odds with living in the moment and planning for the future. can one even do that? small, slow sigh

i just told nathan that i can't wait to be forty. translation: i look forward to the day when i'll feel like i actually know something about what i'm doing.

to buy a house or not to buy a house?
where should our kids go to school?
should i start my own school?
when we will ever be in any sort of financial homeostatis?
how can i share in a practical way that doesn't feel like too much for me?

[more sighing]

the list goes on and on. the answer?

be

here

now

that's a tough one.

a cut below

well... this has to be quick. i had semi-emergency sugery on the ninth of march. been on my side and tummy since. not much sitting. even less walking. had a pilonidal cyst that turned into an abcess and it grew to the size of a golf ball. all this happened right by my tailbone (that's the nice way of saying "me arse") and so it had to be surgically removed. hurt more before than after, believe me.

best bit is my insurance had lapsed. and the bill was $4000 +. nice.

anyway, gotta go. gotta get OFF my butt! and on to my side. getting lots of reading done.

be back soon!

what's in a name?

quite a while ago, when lauryn was still a little baby, we had some friends come over for a visit and one these friends called me a housewife.

now for some women, that doesn't make a hill of beans of difference to them. so what if she called me a housewife?

well, it stung. and i said that i prefer the term "stay at home mom". to which she replied (somethign like) "whatever. i really don't care what you call yourself." ouch!

so what is my problem with this antiquated, patriarchal term exactly? why should that bother me? in my opinion, housewives are involuntary. that's just the way life was. you were a wife: you were confined to the house. period. end of story. for me, being a stay at home mom, is kind of declaration that i am choosing to be an intentional parent. it's recongising that i have the choice and though it would not occur to me to do anything else, the decision to stay home from 'gainful employment' and raise our children is, indeed, mine to make.

maybe someday i'll get to the point where that particular comment will amount to nothing more than hot air long gone. and i can say "whatever" back to that. (i look forward to that). and right now, i know that this person really hasn't a clue about who i am and dare i say not much interest in anyone other than #1. i mean, she thought i was trying to impress her with my child's cloth diapers. [scoff!]

honestly.

It's a date!

so guess what? my hubby and i are going on a date tonight!! we did go to a wedding last week, which was lovely but it wasn't really a date. if church is in the mix (baptist church at that), you know that can't be qualified as a date!

kids are getting dropped at deborah's to be looked after by blessed Janet. (she really is blessed. by the way that's bless-ed, not blest) and we going to Indigo's to watch Mizpah and her band perform. Mizpah is a wicked good singer and i've seen her sing at NPCC but never seen her doing a proper 'gig' as it were. i'm really looking forward to it.

in other news, ryan's language skills are starting to bud. he absolutely adores Polar Bear, Polar Bear by Bill Martin Jr. and Eric Carle. He brings it to me and opens the book and points at all the animals. AHHNI! AHNI! AHNI! (as in annie) he says when he points to the elephant (every single time!), the snake is NAA(K: barely audible K at the end), the bear is BEH. But his favorite is the elephant. Oh, and the Lion : RAAA!! LOL!

I have to say I'm surprised he loves books as much as lauryn did considering how different they are from each other personality wise.

Last thing Houston, we finally have TOOTH!!. His bottom left (his left) canine has erupted! only seven more to go!!!

I'm off.