25 March, 2007
Sleep Perchance to Dream
Both kids are sleeping. Jake went to camp this weekend. His kind 1:1 aide gave us the tame run-down, saying that there "were some rough spots". In truth it sounds like Jake was in a serious episode. Poor girl. She was visibly skinnier when we took the monkey off her back.
23 March, 2007
Trusting Amelia
Jake is off to Camp Costanoan this weekend. It is a marvelous place. I don't even want to write about it because I am so afraid we won't be able to get a spot for summer camp.. but it truly is a great place.
Jake's 1:1 aide this weekend is Amelia. Beautiful, young, energetic, receptive Amelia. I left notes. I left pictures of us, I left Superman, Sock Monkey and his own pillow. He will be fine. It is always me.
Jake's 1:1 aide this weekend is Amelia. Beautiful, young, energetic, receptive Amelia. I left notes. I left pictures of us, I left Superman, Sock Monkey and his own pillow. He will be fine. It is always me.
20 March, 2007
Ah Montana.
It flattens out in lilac waves. sunsets and sage and the bare brush. It is a smell, a chill, a sunrise met with joy. i am complete.
I feel small, as if for once I am not responsible for everything. and yet at the same time I feel like I am truly a part of every living thing on the planet.
I feel the presence of God when I am there. and in the clear skies. as if I may be heard. as if my voice and prayers might resonate and fly up from the scrub unhindered.
Mostly I feel alive. i feel like myself genuinely true: my own true self.
I feel enveloped with both the care and nonchalance that true friendship breeds. I am easily passed over by my peers’ eyes and yet my every move is carefully and exactly measured…but only in that my comfort is guarded, and my soul fed.
It is not about a vacation from everything else.
It is about a journey to me.
It would be helpful if it were closer. Surely my manna could be served within a few hour’s drive. It is the time and distance which separates it from the everyday that gives it host proportions.
My reservoir is low. and somehow the grey skies over the treeless landscape quench a thirst my everyday suburban life cannot whet with its six-pack carbonated ways.
I am the master of all cynics, and as I drive away and on towards Big Sky, my suit of armor is shed. I use the notion throughout the year to clothe me, swaddle me, until I must don heavier and heavier coats of first soft then thicker shellac. Shells to aid me through my days.
To feel the breeze unencumbered. To wake at first light by choice and retire after deciding that I have had my share of shooting stars. This is Montana.
Mostly it is you. reminding me of how I once was. That I was beautiful and smart and funny and fun and filled with hope and life. Reminding me that that I only thought I knew heartache then.
This heart, my heart, if only it could be filled in my many stop-lit town. But it is healed in ghost towns, and along highways with no speed limits.
Ah Montana
I am not missing a state. I am missing a state of mind.
I feel small, as if for once I am not responsible for everything. and yet at the same time I feel like I am truly a part of every living thing on the planet.
I feel the presence of God when I am there. and in the clear skies. as if I may be heard. as if my voice and prayers might resonate and fly up from the scrub unhindered.
Mostly I feel alive. i feel like myself genuinely true: my own true self.
I feel enveloped with both the care and nonchalance that true friendship breeds. I am easily passed over by my peers’ eyes and yet my every move is carefully and exactly measured…but only in that my comfort is guarded, and my soul fed.
It is not about a vacation from everything else.
It is about a journey to me.
It would be helpful if it were closer. Surely my manna could be served within a few hour’s drive. It is the time and distance which separates it from the everyday that gives it host proportions.
My reservoir is low. and somehow the grey skies over the treeless landscape quench a thirst my everyday suburban life cannot whet with its six-pack carbonated ways.
I am the master of all cynics, and as I drive away and on towards Big Sky, my suit of armor is shed. I use the notion throughout the year to clothe me, swaddle me, until I must don heavier and heavier coats of first soft then thicker shellac. Shells to aid me through my days.
To feel the breeze unencumbered. To wake at first light by choice and retire after deciding that I have had my share of shooting stars. This is Montana.
Mostly it is you. reminding me of how I once was. That I was beautiful and smart and funny and fun and filled with hope and life. Reminding me that that I only thought I knew heartache then.
This heart, my heart, if only it could be filled in my many stop-lit town. But it is healed in ghost towns, and along highways with no speed limits.
Ah Montana
I am not missing a state. I am missing a state of mind.
Wonder Woman
both of my children like superheroes. Deciding what to do about purchasing figurines was a tough one. Jake stole a Polly Pocket 
from his friend Leila...and I mean he totally 100% hid it behind his back as she was leaving... then he hid it in the toy box. so we decided we needed to get him his own action figures.
When Descartes and I hit the store (this was last summer) we had one of those parenting moments..for those people who are choosing to actively parent...uhm what kind of toys do we want our kid to play with? We have been able to decide a lot of things for Jake, purely because he can't tell us what he does want. We just try to watch carefully and support his choices.
So we went with the intent, (okay my intent) to buy him a Polly Pocket set. Once we were at Toys R Us
Descartes started to back away from the idea of Polly Pocket and suggested WWE Figurines. I pretty much nixed that idea immediately. We compromised on Dora the Explorer. Of course once we looked at them we realized that they were fat and stubby...exactly not what Jake had liked about the tiny Polly Pocket Dolls.
Then we started looking around and saw those GI Joe guys. My brother played with those, and with all of the Star Wars action figures. Descartes can't remember what he played with. I think he just dug under the house with his dad for his entire childhood. But I sort of have it in my head that if you have guns in your home which are real, then you can't have guns as toys. Well also I don't think guns are toys period. I don't even like water pistols..although at one point we did have a small space-man looking bubble gun to blow bubbles in the bathtub...but even that is gone now.
I said "no" to GI Joe to all of those crazy ninja figures and anything else that seemed to come with a gun a grenade or both. Then I saw Superman...and Wonderwoman
and I will finish my thoughts later since Jake thinks he can fly and is on the counter right now.
from his friend Leila...and I mean he totally 100% hid it behind his back as she was leaving... then he hid it in the toy box. so we decided we needed to get him his own action figures.When Descartes and I hit the store (this was last summer) we had one of those parenting moments..for those people who are choosing to actively parent...uhm what kind of toys do we want our kid to play with? We have been able to decide a lot of things for Jake, purely because he can't tell us what he does want. We just try to watch carefully and support his choices.
So we went with the intent, (okay my intent) to buy him a Polly Pocket
set. Once we were at Toys R Us Descartes started to back away from the idea of Polly Pocket and suggested WWE Figurines. I pretty much nixed that idea immediately. We compromised on Dora the Explorer. Of course once we looked at them we realized that they were fat and stubby...exactly not what Jake had liked about the tiny Polly Pocket Dolls.Then we started looking around and saw those GI Joe
guys. My brother played with those, and with all of the Star Wars action figures. Descartes can't remember what he played with. I think he just dug under the house with his dad for his entire childhood. But I sort of have it in my head that if you have guns in your home which are real, then you can't have guns as toys. Well also I don't think guns are toys period. I don't even like water pistols..although at one point we did have a small space-man looking bubble gun to blow bubbles in the bathtub...but even that is gone now.I said "no" to GI Joe
to all of those crazy ninja figures and anything else that seemed to come with a gun a grenade or both. Then I saw Superman...and Wonderwomanand I will finish my thoughts later since Jake thinks he can fly and is on the counter right now.
17 March, 2007
15 March, 2007
Flowers for Mom
So it is kind of crazy, but Jake has been slipping out words nearly every day. I am writing them on the calendar
in the kitchen.
Later when the kids are older, instead of handing them scrapbooks tenderly pinking-sheared at the edges, multi-colored and properly stickered, I will hand them the stack of family wall calendars.. they can match up the photos later, but that calendar is one of the true records of our family. It notes not only what we actually did, the appointments we made etc..but it documents all of the things we planned on doing, all of our good intentions.. along with what we thought was important at the time (mail insurance payment...Jake new wheelchair), and what we really really wanted to do (budget check, dinner with the Shraguers) It also lists every birth, death wedding and baptism. Almost like a family bible. There are flight plans, happy faces next to the word vacation!.. and now, Jake's words.
At the beginning of the month Jake was riding his adapted bike at school with the help of his one-on-one aide Anna. She is amazing by the way. They stopped to admire a flowering cherry tree. They are in full bloom in in Bigtree City, pink tinged and abundant.
Anna asked my son, "Aren't they beautiful Jake"?
He leaned forward, thrust his hand toward the tree, grabbed a handful of flowers and said "For Jen".
For me? for me?
His teacher was so excited she called my house and left a message for me immediately.
It is age appropriate for Jake to refer to me by first time. At this age kids have sort-of figured out that there parents have their own identity.
Later that evening, as Jake was in his bed and the lights were off leaving only the light from the stairwell.. I snuggled in next to him and asked if he had maybe picked the flowers for Janet his teacher. He made no sound. When I asked if they were really for me... he said, very quietly "yeah."
They sent home the one flower
that stayed in his hand all the way back to the classroom.
I have pressed it in my Shakespeare
tome...on the same page where I saved the flowers his daddy gave me for Valentine's Day in 1996.
in the kitchen.Later when the kids are older, instead of handing them scrapbooks tenderly pinking-sheared at the edges, multi-colored and properly stickered, I will hand them the stack of family wall calendars.. they can match up the photos later, but that calendar is one of the true records of our family. It notes not only what we actually did, the appointments we made etc..but it documents all of the things we planned on doing, all of our good intentions.. along with what we thought was important at the time (mail insurance payment...Jake new wheelchair), and what we really really wanted to do (budget check, dinner with the Shraguers) It also lists every birth, death wedding and baptism. Almost like a family bible. There are flight plans, happy faces next to the word vacation!.. and now, Jake's words.
At the beginning of the month Jake was riding his adapted bike at school with the help of his one-on-one aide Anna. She is amazing by the way. They stopped to admire a flowering cherry tree. They are in full bloom in in Bigtree City, pink tinged and abundant.
Anna asked my son, "Aren't they beautiful Jake"?
He leaned forward, thrust his hand toward the tree, grabbed a handful of flowers and said "For Jen".
For me? for me?
His teacher was so excited she called my house and left a message for me immediately.
It is age appropriate for Jake to refer to me by first time. At this age kids have sort-of figured out that there parents have their own identity.
Later that evening, as Jake was in his bed and the lights were off leaving only the light from the stairwell.. I snuggled in next to him and asked if he had maybe picked the flowers for Janet his teacher. He made no sound. When I asked if they were really for me... he said, very quietly "yeah."
They sent home the one flower
that stayed in his hand all the way back to the classroom.I have pressed it in my Shakespeare
tome...on the same page where I saved the flowers his daddy gave me for Valentine's Day in 1996.
12 February, 2007
Scary babies
Having Lucy hasn't been nearly as scary as we all thought it would be. She is much more demanding than I could have prepared for. And since she is already talking "Hi Dada", "Hi Jah" (that's "hi Jake"), "Hi dah" (that's "Hi dog") and "bite" (when offering the babysitter a graham cracker). I know we are in big trouble in a whole new way.
Everyone eats tuna
I know it may seem like no big deal, but today my entire family ate the same lunch. Cooking
will now be much easier going forward.
It is also one of those moments when you realize that your "new baby" isn't so new anymore. Lucy is 8 months old now. And while she only has 1 1/2 teeth, she is already a chow hound eating a tuna melt for lunch today and pizza last night for dinner.
I think most people were worried that if we had a second child Jake would somehow injure me while I was pregnant, or that Jake would hurt a tiny new baby. Well Jake, as it turns out is the nicest big brother on the planet and we have not had even one scary incident betwixt the kids. Now I really do wonder why we waited so long to have another child. Fear is so powerful.
Fear may be even more powerful if you are on the smarter or more creative side of life. With fear, your amazing intellect can conjure up all sorts of bad things that "could" happen. Like my father, I am able to create fantastic scenarios then with each horrible thing I imagine, I create the contingency plan that saves my baby, my family, my friends, the dogs, the house, the car, the planet..what or whomever lies in peril.
It is exhausting. It also means that I have tennis shoes under my bed, rope in the car, Jake's bus vest and a leash with which to tether him at the back door, extra towels in the laundry room, spare cell phones and more than 50 batteries of all shape and size. We also have cash and coins at the house (not that much so don't get any ideas that we are worth stealing from) and my cell phone is always charged and my gas tank always has at least 60 miles worth of gas (to get to the East Bay to Descartes' parents... or an hour outside of the Bay Area). I have pedia-sure, dried milk and diapers in every size. Spare medications, paper plates, several sets of silverware, enlough liquor to whet every whistle in town, AAA, way too much car insurance, homeowners insurance life insurance and Earthquake insurance which doesn't even kick in until there is more than 60k worth of damage to my home.
I have every single phone number plugged into my cell phone, 2 dozen eggs and an extra gallon of milk in the outside fridge, two propane tanks filled and ready to grill, and a corded phone so we can still make calls if we have a land line but no electricity. All of our cars have AWD and we have a pop up trailer that we can live in at a moment's notice.
There are more things I do, more things I have stored. Am I a freak, is this just being well-prepared in Earthquake country?
will now be much easier going forward.It is also one of those moments when you realize that your "new baby" isn't so new anymore. Lucy is 8 months old now. And while she only has 1 1/2 teeth, she is already a chow hound eating a tuna melt for lunch today and pizza last night for dinner.
I think most people were worried that if we had a second child Jake would somehow injure me while I was pregnant, or that Jake would hurt a tiny new baby. Well Jake, as it turns out is the nicest big brother on the planet and we have not had even one scary incident betwixt the kids. Now I really do wonder why we waited so long to have another child. Fear is so powerful.
Fear may be even more powerful if you are on the smarter or more creative side of life. With fear, your amazing intellect can conjure up all sorts of bad things that "could" happen. Like my father, I am able to create fantastic scenarios then with each horrible thing I imagine, I create the contingency plan that saves my baby, my family, my friends, the dogs, the house, the car, the planet..what or whomever lies in peril.
It is exhausting. It also means that I have tennis shoes under my bed, rope in the car, Jake's bus vest and a leash with which to tether him at the back door, extra towels in the laundry room, spare cell phones and more than 50 batteries of all shape and size. We also have cash and coins at the house (not that much so don't get any ideas that we are worth stealing from) and my cell phone is always charged and my gas tank always has at least 60 miles worth of gas (to get to the East Bay to Descartes' parents... or an hour outside of the Bay Area). I have pedia-sure, dried milk and diapers in every size. Spare medications, paper plates, several sets of silverware, enlough liquor to whet every whistle in town, AAA, way too much car insurance, homeowners insurance life insurance and Earthquake insurance which doesn't even kick in until there is more than 60k worth of damage to my home.
I have every single phone number plugged into my cell phone, 2 dozen eggs and an extra gallon of milk in the outside fridge, two propane tanks filled and ready to grill, and a corded phone so we can still make calls if we have a land line but no electricity. All of our cars have AWD and we have a pop up trailer that we can live in at a moment's notice.
There are more things I do, more things I have stored. Am I a freak, is this just being well-prepared in Earthquake country?
09 February, 2007
My kid is Bi-lingual
It is time to start taking Spanish classes.
Pretty cool eh? He has been slipping out more and more lately.
When I read the journal report from his teacher in the car I asked him if he had done that and he put his head down and smiled!
Just now he gave his sister a toy in her highchair (after stealing all of her Cheerios, of course.)
I think he is hitting another phase of development.
On Wednesday he didn't seem to want to eat anything 'normal' so I asked our babysitter to make him whole wheat cinnamon sugar toast. She sliced it up, then told me he wasn't eating that either. I said, from across the room, "C'mon Jake, you love cinnamon toast"
He then dropped his head made a face and shook his head "no" and smiled at Valerie!
As if to say "my mom is nutters".
Apparently when Jake was walking in the hall today (hallways in California schools are outside remember) he saw the rain, pointed and said "Agua"
*******Just so you know Jake does not point and rarely speaks. ********
Pretty cool eh? He has been slipping out more and more lately.
When I read the journal report from his teacher in the car I asked him if he had done that and he put his head down and smiled!
Just now he gave his sister a toy in her highchair (after stealing all of her Cheerios, of course.)
I think he is hitting another phase of development.
On Wednesday he didn't seem to want to eat anything 'normal' so I asked our babysitter to make him whole wheat cinnamon sugar toast. She sliced it up, then told me he wasn't eating that either. I said, from across the room, "C'mon Jake, you love cinnamon toast"
He then dropped his head made a face and shook his head "no" and smiled at Valerie!
As if to say "my mom is nutters".
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