Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Special Delivery

*ding dong, ding dong, ding dong, ding dong*
"Mamam MAMAM" shouted through the open front window.

I opened to door to see my little cherub bringing me a fistful of daisies he picked himself.


Moments like this make up for all the three year old power struggles.

Sunday, May 23, 2010

MIghty Life

My friend, Bonny, was recently talking about finding her dreams again, creating a Mighty Life List. Yeah, it is kind of like a bucket list; you can read about it on Mighty Girl.

It got me thinking about what I might put on my list of dreams.

In this life, I'd like to...

...watch a sunset from the Shoodic Peninsula in Maine.

...learn to spin yarn.

...hold my grandchild.

...enter a photography contest.

...dip my toes in the Mediterranean.

...own another business.

...learn to drive a motorcycle.

...dance with my husband.

...attend a live music event every week for a summer.

...shop only at independently owned businesses for an entire year...or six.

...make soap.

...make cheese.

...wave sparklers with my children.

...gather enough confidence to actually carry on a full conversation in Spanish.

...attend the wedding of a stranger.

...give a child at a lemonade stand $50 and tell the child to keep the change.

...own a full set of encyclopedias.

...donate a Knitting Basket at heifer.org.

...downhill ski somewhere larger than Tyrol Basin.

...ice skate.

...laugh more.

...visit real mountains.

...take a schooner vacation with my husband.

...invite people for dinner frequently.

...take a trip with friends.

...try making all the recipes from a single cookbook.

...eat crab oceanside in the Pacific Northwest.

...nap in a hammock.

...turn my entire front yard into garden.

...learn to do yoga.

...wear lovely hats.

...find a wine I like.

...help someone achieve their dreams.

...live in the moment.

...hug.

...always take baked goods to neighbors.

...be open to spontaneity.

...make bagels that are actually good.

...smile when I am old.

...learn to drive a stick shift.

...go on a bike ride that is more than 10 miles long.

...play Frisbee.

...take a class somewhere like San Fransisco Baking Institute or Chocolate University.

...one semester, take all the community education classes at the local community college that sound interesting.

...walk 5ks again.

...skip with children.

...see the Iberian peninsula.

...never pass by a free art exhibit.

...find joy in exercise.

...grow old gracefully.


To be continued.

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

Hello again, Christopher Robin


Childhood is a short season. ~Helen Hayes


I have my last child going through the Christopher Robin phase.

The Christopher Robin phase, to me, is the time when my children lose the baby chunk and when shorts start landing above the knee instead of mid-calf. The little legs look skinny for the first time since the newborn age. The child runs around independently on skinny little legs with knobby knees. Add in a pair of white socks with brown shoes and a pair of blue shorts and all I can think of is Christopher Robin from the Winne-the-Pooh books. Switch it over to yellow rain boots and dark blue shorts, and it makes me want to buy the toddler a vintage floppy rain hat and black umbrella.

The realization that this is my last child going through this stage fills me with more sorrow than the final days of nursing, giving away the diapers or the packing away of the baby clothes. I wonder why that is?

Maybe it is because I see this coming down the pipeline:

Christopher Robin: But what I like most of all is just doing nothing.
Winnie the Pooh: How do you do just nothing?
Christopher Robin: Well, when grown-ups ask, "What are you going to do?" and you say, "Nothing," and then you go and do it.
Winnie the Pooh: I like that. Let's do it all the time.
Christopher Robin: You know something, Pooh? I'm not going to do just nothing anymore.
Winnie the Pooh: You mean, never again?
Christopher Robin: Well, not so much.

Monday, May 17, 2010

I am all for ethical treatment of animals in this world, but I tire of people advocating for humane treatment of animals.

Word Origin & History

humane
mid-15c., variant of human, used interchangeably with it until early 18c., when it began to be a distinct word with sense of "having qualities befitting human beings."

Online Etymology Dictionary, © 2010 Douglas Harper

Until we can treat all humans on this earth in a humane manner, I will not advocate humane treatment for animals. It is probably a small distinction, given that I do believe that we have a responsibility as omnivores to eat food raised ethically and that as pet owners, people have responsibility to insure they are providing for the animal's needs. Still, animals are not human, so please forgive me for dismissing groups that worry about inhumane things like trapping of feral cats.

Friday, May 14, 2010

Another Vincent story

So Vincent had surgery last week to put tubes into his ears again. He did extremely well with it all, and his recovery from the anesthesia was much better than last time, thank goodness.

Last time, he was truly pitiful laying there in the recovery room, all confused as he was dozing and snuggling with the new Webkinz toy we had brought for him. Expecting something like that again, we picked up another new toy for this time, a Webkinz Lava Dragon. He was sitting up, smiling and watching the television in the recovery room as we came back after his surgery, and he was practically wrestling with Simon in the bed before he was released.

He did enjoy his new Lava Dragon, though, and has been having fun playing with the newly christened Fire Breath. Saturday morning, I was walking through the upstairs hallway when he suddenly threw Fire Breath right at me, hard. I tossed the dragon back, and Vincent did it again. Wondering why on earth he was throwing things at me, I asked him about it. His answer?

"Oh, I'm giving Fire Breath flying lessons."

I love the way this child's mind works!

Monday, May 10, 2010

Passage of time

It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are. ~e.e. cummings

One is not born a woman, one becomes one. ~Simone de Beauvoir, The Second Sex, 1949

If nothing ever changed, there would be no butterflies. ~Author Unknown

...and slowly, with a little fanfare, a child starts the transition to adulthood.

Monday, May 03, 2010

Tale of Two Immigrants.

J. came to our country as an immigrant with his wife and young child. He started a life here in a community of people who spoke his native tongue. He learned English, and that became his primary language outside of the home. J's children became fluent English speakers, went to English speaking schools, and fully adopted American customs other than some foods. J's son, L, grew up. L's family was raised in an English speaking environment at home, and they were completely Americanized.

A. came to our country as in immigrant with his wife and two small children. He started a life here in a community of people who spoke his native tongue. A. raised his family with the language and customs of his homeland. A's son, R, grew up and started his own family. R raised his children speaking that native language. R's children went to schools where that native language was the primary language, and the family continued the customs of the native country. R's son, L, grew up. L's family was raised in an English speaking environment at home, and they were completely Americanized.

These two immigrants came to our country one hundred years apart. The first L is my husband, Luis. The second L is my grandfather.

I wrote this because I am tired of the myth that all immigrants historically learned English and adapted to the new culture right away.

I am tired to hearing that immigrants today need to Americanize themselves immediately upon settling here. I hate seeing the "Welcome to American. Now learn English." bumper sticker, I am sick of reading that we shouldn't allow government documents and tests to be in languages other than English, tired of hearing that companies should not accommodate non-native English speakers by allowing "For English, press one. For Spanish, press two. For Hmong, press 3."

I think it is absurd that some people expect immigrants to abandon completely the customs, dress and habits of their homelands when our immigrant ancestors did no such thing.

We are a land of immigrants. The overwhelming majority of the current immigrant population is here legally. The majority of those immigrants are integrating into the US culture more quickly than previous generations did, but it is normal and expected for immigrants to keep the native language and culture alive in their families. It is part of remembering what they left behind, because no matter how hard it was in the native country, leaving to come to a great unknown is terrifying, and clinging to some of what was is a touchstone of safety.

I am thankful that my ancestors clung to their native culture. I love the bits that filtered down to my generation: the traditional bread or holiday cookies and candies, the way my children say "Acht" just like my grandparents did, the memories I hold of speaking bits of German with Grandpa as I learned it in high school for the first time. I wish I knew more of that language now, and I wish even more of the food traditions had passed through the generations to me.

I am here today because of immigrants. My husband is here today because of immigrants.

All natural born citizens of the United States other than 100% Native American citizens are here today because of immigrants. I think too many people in our nation have forgotten their own history.

Saturday, May 01, 2010

Merry meet this Beltane

The new earth quickens as you rise.
The May Queen is waiting.
Feel the pulsing ground call you to journey,
To know the depths of your desire.
The May Queen is waiting.
Moving through the night, the bright moon's flight.
In green and silver on the plain.
She waits for you to return again.
Do not keep Her waiting.
Her temper stings if you refuse to taste Her honey.
Surrender as enchantment brings
The first light of dawning.
Move with Her in sacred dance, through fear to feeling.
Bringing ecstasy to those who dare.
Living earth is breathing.
Loving through the night in the bright moonlight,
As seedlings open with the rain.
She'll long for you to return again.
Do not keep Her waiting.


- Ruth Barren, The May Queen is Waiting