Birth in the Park

At a very large, very crowded urban park recently, pickin' up on the neighboring mommy blanket, I chatted friendly with a couple of other crunchy mamas.  A bit later I was slightly agape watching her 2 year old strip down nude and birth her baby doll.

Yes, read it again.  Mama encouraged her daughter through the doll-birthing process, "that's right, push the baby out" and "you're such a good mommy."

It took me almost a week to process the feelings that came up with this experience.

The first thing that happened, Monk-A-Doodle, my token lovin'-naked-life-child, came to ask "it's okay to be naked outside?" 

Carefully I said, "yes, it is okay to be naked outside. Though, sweetheart," surveying the expanse, "I'm not comfortable as this park is so big, and so busy right now, so just keep your swimsuit on, okay?"  This child is so very tactile in her soothing and cuddling, I also couldn't be sure what she'd do.  

To be socially responsible I've learned to take others' comfort level into account.  (Incidentally if we had and expanse of private land, there'd definitely be some instance of naked baby butts outside.  Butt then there's this option.)  I guess I've become somewhat a prude in my maturing mommy-hood years, or maybe it's because I've little girls and I'm too aware of over-sexualization of young girls in our society.

As for the mock birth the little girl played out, it's probably a realistic throwback to tribal days when all the women and girls were involved on some level to aid a woman giving birth.  It actually caused me to think I might've taken a different tack with F, but the way things occur in this era---I answer the questions that come up in an honest succinct manner, careful not to over-answer (this book is great).  Introducing life experience subject matter like birth and nursing makes sense, even if they mayn't have a conscious memory of the pretending, it would hopefully match their intuitive nature later on, making the whole experience less frightening.  

Maybe that momma was a doula or a midwife and it's part of their daily life experience, it brought up interesting thought process for me.  In a follow-up conversation a dear friend helped with a final aspect I had been struggling with but hadn't been able to put to words.  It was the public nature of the display.  Birth, like death I think, is an intensely private experience.  We invite only trusted people and family into that experience, and typically carefully choose our location for focus and comfort. The very public nature of that particular park, well, it was a shock to my system.

I'm beginning to love all manner of challenging experiences.  Life is good, all the time!

my babies nursing their baby dolls

And Then There Was Reign

A day after our short mountain adventure, early labor in earnest.  The Man convinces me to head northerly toward the W.H.O. hospital I loved so much with E's birth, so we do (it's a 35 minute drive without traffic).  And my labor all but stops.  We had a nice morning date, bit of coffee, breakfast, walking, then visiting dear friends' house to attempt to relax, and lots of laughing.  But I wasn't getting much action in the labor ing department.  I decided I'd take my friend up on her offer of castor oil.  We'd done everything else as far as self-induction (spiciest foods, slippery elm, hiking/elevation change, walking-walking-walking, and even the old standby wives tale which incidentally works best with a "hat trick" of specific activity ;).  I figured a tablespoon would either kick this labor into gear for real, or simply send me to the bathroom.  After a phone call to the doc, some deliberation and discussion, we decided to head back home.

I got to nap, Grandma kept the Littles at bay for me, and pressure waves were intermittent.  Between 3-3:45 labor started in earnest, and I phone The Man to retrieve me and head back toward hospital.  We embarked the vehicle and began The Drive.

Contractions (a.k.a pressure waves) were ~5' apart, 30 miles to travel, at 4pm on one of the busiest surface streets in the area.  It.was.harrowing.  The Man asked me at one point, "should I be breaking traffic laws?"  My answer, "if you can safely, then do it."  I didn't know what stage I was truly in, 'cause the other two babies came after doses of pitocin.  So, he's breaking traffic laws, not running lights (yet), and probably pissing many people off---until they look into the car, there's no way to miss The Belly and a woman clearly focusing intently.  "No, pushing!" he says over and over.  And finally we're almost there, we can see the hospital!

"Oh, my god, there's a wreck."  

A big wreck, over the entire 3 lane highway, it's completely blocked, they're turning people around.  "$%^#!" we pull up to a policewoman, she tells us we have to take another route, her only other option is an ambulance.  We drive back the 2 miles to the previous intersection, angling around the line of traffic, surely 'causing everyone to question the sanity of Texans (mom's plates).  The officer at this intersection calls for assistance immediately after The Man screams, "MY WIFE IS HAVING A BABY!!"  He then escorts us back to the accident, and through it, this being the shortest most direct route.  Blessings on that motorcyclist and the involved vehicle, and that officer.  

We arrive safely at hospital, fully engaged in active labor, though things had slowed a bit, and I hear them call up to the L&D floor, "You have a 'mul-tip' on her way up in active labor."  As it turns out "mul-tips" are mommas who've had multiple births, and it's expected that delivery will be fast it immediately puts nurses on alert.  Though I'd said many times this pregnancy that it's not like the movies, this experience most certainly was more film worthy than any other!  Rushing in a wheel chair through the hospital, contracting all the way.  

Upon arrival and settling in there was a period of slight calm, and then pretty standard labor.  I asked them to leave me unhooked so I could move freely from bed, to ball, to rocker, to tub, to rocker, to bed.  The superb nurses only monitored me when necessary.  After a second dilation check, it got really Real, real fast.  From 6 to 10 cm and begging (loudly) to push in 18 minutes.  They didn't even put monitors back on for pushing.  I got to do it old school, by feel.  It. was. magnificent.  

And so, after such an adventure, baby boy Reign Calum arrived.  We are so glad you've come!

We went up the mountain a little ways today. And it was great to get out.

My Dear Mom has been staying with us for a week now, and notwithstanding some challenges it's been enlightening.

My Miss Monkey, though full of complaint before we left, actually said, aloud, "Thanks for making me come up here, Mom." And she was incredibly pleasant and helpful throughout the day.

The Second born was pliable and sweet, until I removed her sweater....oh horrific horror! How dare I attempt to make her more comfortable. She caterwauled all the way back to the car. I felt bad about it, though I couldn't allow the caterwauling to influence my decision. Eventually she calmed to a thinking state and I apologized, explaining that I realize my mistake, and when she'd ask calmly I'd happily give it back, 'cause crying won't ever help me change my mind.  In her combination of hunger-tired-heat, she heard me, barely, but never wanted the sweater back.

And I'm still pregnant.  Just hitting the 39 week mark. Plenty of activity in slow process of early labor, I'm just too too excited to meet this little person and have my body returned fully unto my self.

Week In, Week Out

The last week of March I spent in a low-grade-fever-haze of coughing, hacking, peeing, and packing the house.  I would never, ever wish that on any woman. Ever.  Somehow I've attracted an impressively busy situation yet again, it seems that when we're in a state of change it can't be simple.  

So, I released Miss Monkey (and myself) from all her homeschool obligations 'cause it was just too too daunting a task to add into packing.  The girls spent their days mostly indoors (sad) simply playing among the chaotic stacks of stuff in/out of boxes.  They made it play though, with collages, mommy-baby doll outings, and lots of other imaginative play.

Mid-week there was a crisis from a mistake I made in a quasi-feverish, pregnant haze while half asleep early the morning before movers were to arrive.  Which moving company called to confirm and pre-authorize our card?  I found out a bit later it was the wrong moving company.  I spent a few hours in a panic, coughing and crying at some random grocery until the situation mostly resolved.

The right movers came, we hauled most clothing and food to Miss J's basement---we are blessed with yet another beneficent lady opening her home to us.  Expecting up to a 3 week stay in a frenetic Rocky Mountain spring creates logistical packing nightmare.  Installed at her place I can rest after the townhouse had been cleaned.  Incredibly grateful for momma friends who cared to come help for a few hours at a time.

Then Easter, we spent at church, simple egg hunt, and dinner with our hostess....and short stints of napping that I might really begin healing the illness I'd been fighting.

The first week of April we spent in some discussion regarding the land lady's apparent resistance to returning our deposit.  Part of me wants to give her a seriously insulting, possibly profanity laced, piece of my mind....the Higher Conscious part of me knows that it's sad she mayn't have the money, it's even sadder that maybe she feels a need to lie, grasp, and live in sustained personal fear.  Part of me wants to take her to small claims court, t'other part knows that it might use more resources than it would provide.  And so we await her decision.  As I type that, I've some visceral irritation at being beholden to someone whom I, we, trusted. I suppose the hurt I'm experiencing is from betrayal, because that's what it is, a betrayal of our efforts and of our honesty.  Then I pray it out, give a heavy sigh, and let go....again and again.

As we settled back into our routine here at Miss J's, the little girls mostly adjusted, but obviously would prefer we were at home.  As it turned out the tenant, when really threatened with proper eviction proceedings, bailed earlier than expected.  The Floor Guys have been working at our house for almost a week, and we expect to camp out in stocking-feet by Friday!  The movers are back to add furniture the following day, and I'll be setting up proper household for the next few days weeks months....but without a prospect that we'll have to move in a year or two, it's much more comforting.  It'll be some hyper-nesting happening as we approach the month of due date for Baby.

I'm proud to notice my growth during this process.  Accepting what I couldn't change, allowing the Littles to be little without expectations, and accepting help when it was offered.  Really, that last bit is incredible.  It takes a lot of growth to show vulnerability, to acknowledge that I need it and to accept help when it's offered.  Watch me grow! 

Miracles are simply the unburying and the 

unleashing of God's already-given good.

- Dr. Roger W. Teel

Just keep moving forward.  Just for Today I have a plan, and if it doesn't go exactly the direction I intend I know my Higher Power had something different in mind, and I'm (generally) okay with that.  : )

Yesterday, after Botanic Gardens, I spent my little free time getting the playroom packed up, closet cleared of everything but sewing (which I'm stalling as there are a couple of projects I need to complete).  Amazingly, I was able to make dinner at the same time, all while wrangling children to help rather than hinder the packing process. (I made a rule, "once it's in a box, it does not come out!")  And let's not forget I'm 30 weeks pregnant.

Incredibly insane the skill level of toy-mixing with these small children!   A giant game of memory played in the space of a couple of hours.  I didn't want to box anything that wasn't whole. Puzzle pieces had to be found, parts had to be bagged, all the kitchen play/food had to be located, as did the Magna-Tiles, and SuperStructs (great use of reusable grocery sacks not in rotation)....which meant for a day they were all sitting idle as the pieces could be located among the discarded random bits of paper/felt/trashtoys/crayons/markers/small-sparkly-whatnots that inevitably surfaced.  I'm grateful I thinned it all out months ago after realizing they couldn't keep it tidy---there was just too much, and believe me, we don't have nearly as much as some houses I've witnessed.

A short note on simplicity:

I've said before I appreciate simplicity over batteries, and quality over quantity.  When considering a toy purchase I'm careful.  Is it a naturally sensory rich item?  Are these pieces they'll keep track of? that I won't mind stepping on or finding in my shoe/kitchen drawer/toilet?  How disposable are those pieces should I have a conniption about the mess?  : )  How many different ways it could be used creatively?  If I can think of 3 or 5, I know the kids will think of a dozen more.  When we unpack I'll look through all the toys again with a ruthless eye.  Books are more challenging for me, as I am a bibliophile, I do enjoy having a library.  When I thinned out the toys I thinned out the books as well.  Simplifying selection to one cubby containing books with messages The Man and I believe need strong reinforcement.  Total book volume will get a ruthless revamp as well, and happiest day will be that of the garage sale for charity of choice.  I do not know what to do with books that have been written, drawn, scribbled in though.

The House.  Well the house is a sweet little 60's ranch on a block between a park (yay!) and an institutional grade school (meh).  In a neighborhood we believe will begin to flip nicely based on the posh new development less than a mile away.  We posted our flier, had a few calls, then Mrs D emailed info on her place she's been renting out since the 80's.  She'd already given vacate notice to her tenant before seeing our flier, and miraculously she usually never looks at the community board. Divine Synchronous!  We made a rent-with-option deal with her, signed, paid, made ready to remove carpet and do floors....everybody happy and excited!  

Then the tenant refused to move.  

Many have said, "What? can they do that?" Apparently, yes.  The tenant can claim notice to vacate never received and get lawyers involved, which is what happened.  Our move date has been backed up a few weeks, and we've been gifted the adventure of staying in another beneficent friend's basement, again!  Part of me asks, "how did this happen?"  But my higher vibration kicks in and I'm firm in faith that all is exactly as it should be, we're adventuring in Life again, and we are miraculously cared for.  

I am grateful!

Eye-spying poison dart frogs

THIS is WHERE I BEGAN over a month ago.  And now I get to write about a few things I've learned.

• It doesn't matter when I meditate, so long as I do.
• It doesn't matter how I pray, so long as I do.
• It doesn't matter when or how I get my exercise in, even if it's only 15 minutes, it's worth it.
• I will always feel better when these three, or at very minimum the first two, are included in my day.
• When I eat well, it only adds to the wonderful inward climate I've created, and helps to sustain it.
• Love begets love, in all forms, and on all levels.

I've noticed I'm more aware of those small moments with my girls, with others, those opportunities to be loving...especially to myself.  Taking up those opportunities---even if it's that 10 minutes I get to be Still while people are singing overhead---it's always worth the time.  When I wake in the morning lately I immediately begin thinking about when and how I'll get in my exercise, or when I'll hit the cushion.  I'm thinking on how I'll care for my self instead of the littany of things that need to be done, I attribute this to reinforcing my faith that all really is well, and everything will get done in God-time.
No hurry, no worry.
Happy days!

Field Trip

There's a story we read in our curriculum about 2 sisters, one's heart is cold as stone (Manyara), one is gentle and kind no matter what (Nyasha).  I feel sometimes that I have a Manyara and a Manyara in training....it's heart breaking.  When they beat on each other there are some instances when they'll work it out, this morning was not one.  My solution, per Love & Logic, has been to "uh-oh!  bedroom time for you both (confined to beds)...when you're both calm, and both ready for recovery you may both come down at the same time."  It works fairly well---I've managed to rein in my reactive wade-into-the-fray-and-fix-it impulse.

We are supposed to field trip today to another indoor pool where I'll be comically flush in maternity suit wondering if my skin will survive the chlorine content.  They've run the gamut this morning, sweet, playing, to screaming, to bedroom time, to attitude-terrible, to recovery, to talking, to affimations, and currently working on the only chance they'll have to get to this pool adventure.  At one point in her frustration F actually screamed, "we're NOT GOING!" to which I replied, "really?cool!  Thank goodness, I'm totally happy to stay home today, THANKS!"  Stopped her in her verbal tracks.

Barely clinging to sanity at the moment, but soldiering forth.

A Personal Improvement Challenge

I noticed something about my posts yesterday, both of them categorized in "tantrums" and timeline labeled "January". I looked at other January posts in the past 5 years and didn't notice anything especially crazed,  some winter blues, but nothing especially noteworthy....so either I didn't feel that I could write it out on the blog, or it wasn't pronounced enough to note.  Possibly there's a pattern in development?  The greatest thing about keeping a journal (or blogging) is that one can look back for patterns in behavior, recognizing these, one can change.

So, in the spirit of altering patterns I'm issuing a challenge to myself, publicly here, to commit to 42 days of Self Care, and an extra day for celebrating success! I'll call it my CARE FULL 43, and I will report here every day what I accomplished which may include though not limited to:

• meditation & prayer, minimum 10'
• yoga, minimum 15'
• some cardio activity, minimum 20'
• spiritual study/reading
• concsious gratitude
• meeting minimun twice a week with spiritual family of choice
• journal at bedtime, even if it's a simple list of Got-it-Done-Today
• set a timer, take twenty to sixty minutes for my self to rest, read something fun, watch something I enjoy, give myself a facial/spa bath---anything that I want to do simply for that reason, I want to.
• minimum one random act of kindness
• tell everyone, "You are Loved"or "I love you" either in kindness or in words
• feed my body for optimum overall wellness
• drink more than enough water
• put a little pocket change in the family "give" jar
• spend time outdoors
• loudly laughing with my kids

If you're reading, is there anything you might add?

Onward!
: )  A

"We may assume that spiritual man is already a success, is already with everything that he needs."
SOM p.270

“If you can't fly then run, if you can't run then walk, if you can't walk then crawl, but whatever you do you have to keep moving forward.”  

~ Martin Luther King

Begin again Gym

I've been procrastinating this post for some time.  Parenting is challenging, especially when we have to choose a path our kids most likely don't appreciate in the now.  After 2+ years at the gymnastic club we were attending, we decided Miss Monkey needed to venture out into other activities rather than becoming hyper focused, therefore leading our family into a situation that we certainly were unprepared to commit life and limb to.  Her last meet was her best, and (gasp!) we opted out of State.  I practically guffawed when F's coach tried to reason that State competition was the celebration at the end of the season---she mustn't have been paying attention.  My perfectionist daughter had had terribly difficulty dealing with the stress of competition, the emotional rack of being "switched on" for half a day, and the total let down (in her head) of her winner's vision not being fulfilled.  It.was.brutal.  Scenes played out in parking lots with other parents staring or offering solutions.  

Since I'm conscious of how I speak with her about her participation, I never used the phrase, "Don't you want to do this?" or anything like it.  That line of questioning only serves the parents' wishes, and causes inner conflict in the child---they're intelligent, they know though it only sounds as if they're being asked what they want, the child also doesn't want to displease her parent, only furthering distress in the situation.  Ever caught an episode of the train-wreck show Toddlers In Tiaras?  Not that I'll ever watch again, but it was a constant barrage of moms asking their daughters the very question but in different forms. 

In our case, she didn't want to quit, she wants to be in the Olympics like Gabby and Jordan, she loves gymnastics, "gymnastics was my life, and you RUINED it!!"  It was actually, she's been doing it since she was about 2, over half her life had been doing something regularly in the gym.  The stark reality set in during this competition season: the massive commitment of practices, very job like, stripping away childhood's imagination and dream time; of sending my child to be subjectively judged by persons unknown, who hand out scores based on their personal opinions regardless of the code (they are human after all, see "cutie points") amidst hundreds, or thousands, of other little girls whose more rabid parents are push-push-pushing...well the prospect was daunting, and made me feel ill.  

F had an example of the perfection required in the sport with Miss Polina, who recently qualified for Nationals, she saw it daily, she knows what it looks like.  Moreover, she knew when her performance didn't match that ideal, when she didn't win at meets, putting dents and dings in her burgeoning self-esteem.  The medaling at local meets is confusing at best, and these girls know that the participation medal isn't the same as the podium medal.  "It is a sport of unforgiving perfection", as one coach/parent/owner remarked to me.  Take that statement into an incredibly competitive arena of subjective judgement, where who you know matters, what you look like matters, how much time and money you have matters.  I'd rather my daughter be judged on her character first, and everything else second, but in the gymnasium that's not what shows first.

After careful thought, sorting though our feelings about the situation, we decided it was time to leave.  Too many good people we knew in the beginning had gone by the wayside during growth spurts the business experienced.  The Man & I both were losing confidence in the young coach's abilities to lead the little girls creatively and compassionately while encouraging them to try harder for that elusive perfection.  Added to that was an accounting discrepancy that barely came to resolution, not without some ugliness, which simply added to my sadness around our experience.  

While he is completely soured on the sport, especially for little girls, I still have some hope that we can creatively keep her in touch with the strength and flexibility, but without the incredible pressure to perform to perfection.  I think it un-just to send children in for judgement on an ideal that exists only fleetingly and impermanently, dependent on the person judging.

So, ultimately we're looking to separate her DOing from her BEing, gymnastics is one facet of a growing persona, but it's not the end-all.  I want the fun of it to come back for her, participation with a healthy detachment around results---we'll explore options until we get something that works.

Stock show petting furry creatures

Mysticism of Motherhood, from My Experience

This is a project/talk I did for Science of Mind & Spirit Class: Practical Mysticism, please comment, let me know what you think.

“Mother is the name for God in the lips and hearts of little children.” (Thackeray)   Apparently, there is little history of spiritual leaders and teachers discussing motherhood.  Not surprising as most of the female mystics were nuns of one sort or another, certainly not having children. With the overtly paternal nature of most religious traditions is obvious why mothers haven't been "on the mystic scene" much at all.

The first time I became pregnant I violently regained control of my life. The pattern of ruthless control repeated the second time, with somewhat more emotional trauma as I understood more closely what I was doing.  I was denying the divine touch in my life.  Denying any possibility of growth and change, my decisions firmly rooted in fear. 

I met my husband and we decided time was right…but with babies even “ready” still isn’t Ready.  Because how does one really prepare for a miracle?

When my first daughter was an infant I was struck one afternoon with a vision of infinity stretching from behind me through to her and beyond, as if two mirrors faced each other.  We were connected as we are all connected. I fell to my knees and cried.  Whenever I feel the quickening of purest love for my daughters’ personhood here, that is essence of God-love. 

The mechanics of conception, development and birth are explicable to a point.  Two irreducibly complex cells come together to form a zygote, then an embryo, and a fetus, eventually a baby.  But the soul, the spirit that comes with that unique combination is INexplicable.  It is miraculous.  In my experience, that new life is proof of union of spirit and in that is the union of the great I AM miraculously re-created.  What he and I have given them will be within them always, but they are at once the genetic progeny + the environmental progeny + something more.  It is that something more that confounds and is mystical by its very existence. 

With my pregnancies I felt (although undefined) a certain unmistakable growth spiritually as well as physically.  My first was a traumatic level of surrender to something larger than myself, loss of what control I imagined.  My second was somewhat easier as I knew essentially what to expect, but the growth still happens, over and over and over again, I learn lesson after lesson.  Parenting classes and introspection have been my timely guides, absolutely necessary when faced with a miniature mirror of my self.  Ultimately it all boils down to love, and love melting into love.  I never guessed I could love with such utter abandon, throw myself totally into self-improvement that I might better embody what I want for my children. 

“God knows more about love, care, forgiveness, in one second than the best mother that ever lived knew in a lifetime.  And if mothers can love and forgive and care and be tender, try to imagine what the nature of God is.” (TFOM p.134)  I couldn’t imagine that nature, not until I became a momma.  I’ve experience heart-rending epiphanies about human kind, our love, hate, fear, jealousies, and more—but mostly our love for one another.  I remember being astounded to recognize that all mothers love their children the way I love mine, albeit with differing actions.   I recall (more recently) the predilection to be drawn into the “Mommy Wars” where personal discernments turn judgments upon others—we mommies sometimes forget our commonalities.  I remember realizing all at once that god- love is like a child’s love for a parent, it never runs out, never changes, never dissipates, it is constant to the core of constancy regardless of behaviors.   I recognized in the throes of learning to mother, I wasn’t sure I could accept this amount of love, I wasn’t sure I was I worth this Love. 

Coming to terms again and again, leads me into newer areas of personal growth to assure that this relational love remains healthy, intact as a sounding board for all future relationships.  With my Momma role, I have had to balance my needs versus theirs, with balance came the in depth search for my identity beneath “mommy”.  I’ve learned to prioritize my energy use toward particular pursuits, though I’ve yet to reach an ideal, I know I’ve time to learn.  Managing my pursuits, those of my children, balancing all this in a basic 24 hour daily cycle has been the most interesting challenge.  Spiritually speaking I’ve matured more in the past 6.5 years than I had in the previous 28, I’ve mommydom to thank for that.

A few lovely, thought provoking quotes:

• Judaism finds "motherhood" in both its abstract notion of generativity and its more intimate motif of caretaking to be a compelling vehicle for understanding and relating to God.

• “A woman may also give birth to her own creative work, in which she has had to plumb her own depth as a woman and labor to bring it forth. The work comes out of her and draws from her talents and experience, and yet it has its own life.”

• “Our children bring to our lives an abundance of special moments: their birth, their first smile, their first word, starting school. But caught up in a fast-flowing stream of thoughts we miss so many of the more everyday moments and, indeed, the potential for every moment we spend with our children to be special. Awake to the depth and texture of the present, we open ourselves to appreciate and enjoy them more.”

• “How often I felt my failure to enact boundless compassion and immeasurable patience. Through becoming a mother I irrevocably lost the realm where compassion for all beings is visualized from a retreat cabin….Gradually, however….I began to see mothering as a great practice opportunity….As I cooked in the cauldron of motherhood, the incredible love I felt for my children opened my heart and brought me a much greater understanding of universal love. It made me understand the suffering of the world much more deeply. This has been an important thread for me, both as a practitioner and as a human being.”

• Creating (including procreation) is a yang or outward-moving aspect of the 2nd chakra, while intuition is a yin or inward-moving one. While for intuition we absorb energy or ‘data’ into our energy bodies (which is partly pulled in by the centripetal nature of our 2nd chakra), while creating a life, a painting, or composition, or anything else, we push it out into the world, apart from us.

Thanks to

http://mommymystic.wordpress.com/2009/05/07/the-spirituality-of-motherhood-lessons-from-the-real-masters/

http://ejmmm2007.blogspot.com/2008/04/divine-mother-in-israel-shekhina.html

for quotes and additional inspiration.

Owl Pellet!

COOL!
Sunglasses used for scale, replete with bones amidst wadded fur.

Neat-O.  Of course Miss Monkey wants to keep it, and so it sits on the patio drying on a piece of foil, awaiting future investigation.

Squeezing our the last bits of summer.  Layering on the activities week by week.  It starts with daytime schedule gymnastics, plus Connection day with Woodrow Wilson, and Toddleator's enrichment center day, then add in our home's-cool curriculum and we've a complete system.

But where oh where does  momma's time get to fit?  Something will manifest, I know it.

I am not perfect

I make mistakes....

...like leaving my bag, complete with keys, in The Man's truck, causing a chain reaction that would make my Miss Monkey really late to practice and harry the rest of my afternoon.  Grateful for friendly retired neighbors!

...like procrastinating purchase of a watch/HRM (or means to carry my cellular device) to have my own timekeeping on a long run, not paying enough attention to where I was, trailing behind my runner-buddy...thereby making myself incredibly late back to the house, infuriating The Man, and narrowly getting Monkey to practice on time.  Rather a sad comedy as I tried to run back to the truck, having exercise-induced asthma the whole way.

...like inadvertently should-ing on my friends, and letting my extroversion overshadow my manners.

I am getting more comfortable in my human-ness by degrees.  At least I don't berate myself endlessly anymore!

Today I am mommin' with chi'ren that are illin', meaning both Booger & Stinkums are experiencing fevers and congestion.  We are home bound.  The New Schedule was to begin today, delayed a day? maybe two?

May my interwebz connection not dominate my day (there is housework to do), may I remember that it's not their fault they're feeling crappy (they don't isolate and hide like I do when ill), and may I remember empathy and compassion more so today than any other (really our problems aren't so big).  For some that may be natural---empathy is something I've been learning since Miss Monkey was born, and compassion has been a lesson for myself first, reconciled with what I had for others more so than my self.  Love & Learn.

So it goes.
Happy day!
: )  <3 p="p">

Strange Day at the Zoo

Howling monkeys...

Noiseless carousel...

Swinging monkeys, too!

Hooray for new friends, and big sisters calming their disappointments and learning to behave better with little siblings.

Happy day!

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HOORAY! HORSES!

After a busy-busy morning at Mile Hi, we serendipitously were able to hang
with these three, Fabulous Frankie, Hippie, and Ruthie.  Enthusiastically I helped clean hooves, taught Miss Monkey to use a horse brush, and labeled different parts of tack and horse anatomy for her (dusting off what I remembered).  I grinned ear to ear listening to hooves on gravelly sand, leathery creaks, horse-breath, snuffles, and lip-pops. There is NOTHING better. I laid on a horse neck and inhaled deep salty horse sweat, laughing tears of a child's
joy.  This was my feeling of total loving abandon as a kid, and I reveled
in it! It is freedom of another, almost forgotten, kind.

And how amazing to introduce my daughters to these things, so special for me.  F proudly rode easy bareback on her own. E didn't want to stop riding once on. I got to practice both saddled and bare back a bit, totally different use of muscles I'd forgotten.

After mandatory ice cream, we headed home tired and happy. I didn't even mind (much) the quasi-crazed dinner/bedtime we had because of sugar & over tired-ness.
I am so grateful!
Happy, HAPPY DAY!
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The Man on a Trip

He left this morning, and will be absent for about a week (estimated as of today).  Already I have new appreciation for people who parent alone, or mostly alone.  As I drove away from the gymnasium after Miss Monkey's foray with back handsprings and exhibition team, I thought, "oh I'll get to the gym myself--oh, wait, right, he's gone so, uhmm, I guess I'll have to wait til Monday."

Wait. What?

Yes, I have to wait until Monday, when KidsClub is open, between the hours of 8-1 or 4-8.
May I just say.....efff this sh*t.  Mentally I'm already trying to calculate how many workouts I'll miss or have to pare down to fit in their 2 hour time limit.  Pit that against the minimum workouts possible between now and the tri we are supposedly doing the first week of October.  Out look does not look great, doesn't even look reasonable.  I want to do better this time around, not the same, and certainly not worse.  I can't do better in races unless I'm trained for them.

I'm willing to forgo the rest of the racing season (and save that money) but stay on a training plan, I'm enjoying the plan very much.  I've found that my RPE upper threshold (probably also known as zone 5 with a HRM) is dry heaving.  If I'm doing speed work, I should dry heave at least once to know I've hit my ceiling, and then I'll ease off enough to avoid vomiting.  I've also found that I really really need to get to my yoga rug more often.  I'm more symmetrically balanced strength-wise when I practice and therefore stronger in everything else I'm doing.

Oh, right, and The Man is gone, he's on a train (in part due to his {slightly milder} aversion to flying).  I miss him.  So, the Gigglesisters, who weren't too giggly today, tried in various ways to test out all the mechanisms by which to make mommy fly off the handle.  If anything I became more conscious, especially proud of my response this evening when they were popping around the bedroom after "lightsout."  Hooray for parenting consciously!

Here we go on a crash course in single parenting.
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p.s. now that my challenge to myself is over, I'm missing writing something every day, even if it's the rather boring everyday life stuff.

Mile Hi is awesome, truly a Center for Spiritual Living (more like a party than what my memory of Church is).  I just finished a class, The Bible, Metaphysics, & You.  I have a sentimental attachment to the book, but never really had an understanding of it, historically, contextually, personally, or otherwise.  Overall a great class, deepened my personal understanding around too many things to list here, and answered many questions I didn't realize I retained from my Baptist childhood experience.

Have to note how much I appreciate our spiritual community, when my Littles, concrete thinkers as they are, head to church, they aren't told bible stories or being indoctrinated.  They are allowed to play, do what comes naturally to children, develop a god of their understanding.  There are three main principles I know are taught:

1. what we plant, grows
2. what we send out, we get back
3. God is love

Simple as that.  Jesus, when asked what the greatest commandments were, he replied that the greatest were love god, and love one another.  Is there really anything more?  I think not.

Lily Mountain/Lake Hike

And I'm spent.
Happy dreams!