It's a Day, or not even, it's only A Morning.

I'm feeling nervous about the decision to put The Second born into a 2-day all day program at the Waldorf Charter School.  Probably because today we had an epic morning.

It began with angry elder sister, pick-pick-picking on little sister, while I sang loudly my operatic "Be Kind or Be quiet!" aria.  Then about 4 minutes of timed bickering (probably longer, but once they heard the "$1 a minute!" jingle I improvised, it got quieter). I'm holding the $4 ($1 or 1 household contribution per minute bickering fee) until they get contributions done.

It's a fairly cold, snowy morning, diamond dust in the air, and champagne powder on my truck, so we're already late. But I'm surrendering to the flow of the morning, 'cause I don't wanna make the crazed rush only to be stuck in traffic.

Everyone fed, and getting ready to leave, the Middle One begins her lament about some random item that was or was not seen, or worn, or toted.  Shortly prior to this, she, in the same breath, shared about what she likes at school and then proceeded to whine "puwheease take me out of dis school, momma".

I kept breathing, kept moving forward. Of course, this new development of crazy from her little sister budged Miss Monkey to swing back into sweet-and-helpful mode.

The Second Born proceeds to scream in her trademark screech about how her legs are cold (she chose to wear a long skirt with long socks), but when offered her coat or pants, she screeches again in response.  Her tragedy is most definitely waking neighbors.

We've embarked the vehicle, finally, when I feel I simply cannot drive with her screeching behind me.  I pull over into the empty, snow covered, parking lot of the park directly across the street.  I remove her from the vehicle, lovingly, firmly inform her that I cannot drive safely with her screaming and caterwauling behind me, help her with her coat and hat, "Scream out here all you want. You are welcome back in my car when you're done making that noise."

I keep breathing and recall yesterday when it was time for baby to nurse and rest, I resorted to locking myself in our bedroom to avoid a more serious conflict with her.  It had been a busy morning, back from the gym she had launched, unprompted, into a caterwauling lament about how she wasn't tired and wasn't hungry.  There's a pattern here, and I'm the common thread. Remove myself and alter the pattern, though maybe not as compassionate as I intend (yet), it's all I can muster sometimes.

Back in the snow, 2 minutes or less outside, some impressive lungfuls of air from her, and she calms. Asking for a hug, I'm happy to comply, and then she's eventually back in her seat and we're on our way.

But that's not all...

upon arrival at school, there's more tragedy, most likely trickle down from dramas earlier in the morning. Then hugs, and I'm off, but only to contend with the baby boy hollering fiercely all the way home.

I'm off to crock something for dinner, fold masses of laundry, and maybe get a 1/2 hour or so to sit atop my bike-on-trainer and lift something other than baby weight.

Happy day!

workin' through stress

This Year

Last year this time we were beginning the search for another place to live, and preparing to file bankruptcy. This year, we've redefined our finances and successfully, and gratefully, been living abundantly.

This year we moved (again), and made firm decision to live in This House for the forseeable future, we are purchasing, and stretching out into the permanence of our decision. Interestingly this material permanence has produced interior growth and shifts.

This year I succeeded in homeschooling my firstborn into reading and the 4 arithmetic processes, then spring came as did the bouncing baby boy, and lots of learning for the Little-Big sister as well as the Big-Big sister.  It became painfully apparent in the fall that homeschooling wasn't serving her, my energetic resources were stretched too thin. The school we enrolled with has been a serendipitous blessing. Her favorite subjects at holiday break are handwork, eurythmy, and spanish.  Observing her this Christmastime, she's grown immensely, the space created with her attendance to Mountain Phoenix has allowed she and I to travel more parallel than crosswise.  With a whole new community to explore and connect with, she and I have had our work cut out for us---for me especially amidst learning the means and methods of brick-and-mortar school.  And I've mourned the change, still do when I come across some curriculum material.  I've fallen in love with her again, she's really a magnificent little person.  She's lost teeth, gained a new kitten and a couple of hermit crabs, gotten her ears pierced, left gymnastics, learned to knit, started soccer and is excited about volleyball.

This year, Little-Big sister, giggly in the middle, has grown into a character of comedy.  While she does push in her 3 year old way, it's been interesting watching her roll into her role.  With a break from her big sister she's grown into her own person bit by bit, has her own community of friends at MHCEC.  Lovely have been the afternoons driving to the pick up line while The Second-born is giggling herself stupid in the backseat making baby brother laugh.  It appears she's about to step up into the preschool room, quite a bit earlier than I ever considered...based on her verbal skills, her ability to use scissors, and dress herself among many other things.

This year, a beautiful baby arrived, he graced us with his presence late May and has been a complete joy.  It must be stated, boys and girls are different from the start.  As soon as he surpassed the first vague interactions, without coercing, steering, or guiding...boys are different than girls.  He has a different personality of course, but I'm noticing, what I surmise, are basic male v. female differences with development and activity and interest.  I find myself studying all little boys more closely, researching this boy-energy.  He's starting to rock, he creeps a bit, and tummy-spins and rolls about the floor loudly babbling his focus or his frustration. Already he has definite opinions about injustices of mommy needing to eat or potty-break. Gratefully he has innate patience when it's necessary to focus my attention on the ridiculous 3 year-old antics.

This year, The Man and I have succeeded in moving the household, straightening out and recommitting our responsibilities financially, getting comfortable and enjoying our community, disagreeing then agreeing, laughing and loving, redoubling our conscious parenting efforts, gracefully growing forward.  I'm so blessed to have this man as my partner in this adventure.

Happily happily into the new calendar year!

The Other Half Lives

clap happy at the pick up line

It's been two weeks now.  Back and forth, to and from, lunches in and out, over and over and over.

I struggle to understand how people actually choose this method. To say the least, I'm stretched getting used to it all, at most I'd say it suuuuucks. I would much rather homeschool in my ideal vision than truck around town 2x daily ....which led me to the novel thought, "I wonder if we really were doing it for her?"  But decisions have been made, and there are carpooling options developing.  

There have been interesting improvements in her consideration of us, especially with Second Born.  She's more affectionate to me, which, sadly, is surprising as I've become so used to being at odds with her. Given her behavior toward me I would expect she'd be ecstatic to be free of me, but that's not the case.  She's at once forcefully clingy and almost desperately affectionate in fierce short bursts.  I'm mindful to be accepting of this and gently responsive to her.  

I feel crappy that it doesn't seem to come naturally to me in my relationship to her, I don't understand this trend and am consciously attempting to heal and release it.  I could surmise it is an inherited pattern, and I'm unwittingly re-creating my childhood family dynamic as it's the only one I'm accustomed to act within.

It's difficult knowing that I (some "we," as in he too) am 49-51% the cause of her behaviors, there has to be a balance between taking total responsibility and understanding that the other half(ish) is simply in her nature. I can't tell which on a moment to moment basis, and when I've tried to keep track it drives me insane as I trend toward "it's-all-my-fault and I'm-a-sh*tty-mom".

My self-loathing knows no bounds.  Parenting an other while RE-parenting one's self is a formidable, strenuous challenge.  Some facets of this personal mirror only refract long after the fact, compounding frustration and confusion for me.

The best I can do is remain of service in love to my family, with lots of meditation, prayer, and support I know this is possible.  I helped create them, so The Divine must be challenging me to learn from them.  Do the next right thing, just keep moving forward.

Lately I'm mostly learning surrender and acceptance, or acceptance and surrender.  I hate that our lovely idyllic plan didn't pan out.  I hate that poor Miss Monkey has imperfect parents that have made so many changes in her short life it's become difficult for her to process properly.  I'm tellin' you: First-borns get the crap-end of the stick with parents that barely know what-the-frack they're doing.  

I will really enjoy one full year (minimum) with just plain life happening, no births, no deaths, no moves, and no bankruptcies/tax problems.  Come to think of it, I think she's only had one full year without major change, it was at the northern suburb house, which may explain why she has such nostalgic attachment to that place.

So, I learn. So, it goes. Gratitude, I suppose.

School to School

I am an imperfect mother.

I'm guilt ridden with totally losing my temper the morning after my last post.  At first the morning started just as the other mornings of the week, with The Firstborn in a terrible state of irritation, slamming doors, throwing things, hurling verbal insults, treating us terribly in her agitation.  And a line was crossed.  

The discussions about schooling her had already begun.  The appointments were already on the calendar, the paper work already begun.  But nothing happens without some undefined Divine Ultimate Purpose, I struggle with the guilt of my behavior regardless.

And so here we are.  My Miss Monkey started at her Waldorf (inspired) charter school today.  I was a hot mess of emotion all day.  Sending my Little Girl off into a class room with many other kids, and one Really Great Teacher---that, truly a serendipitous connection.  At this moment, I'm wondering how people do this same thing over and over again every single day.  I am wading into the fray.

I'm in mourning for our loss of freedom, though I'm grateful we've the freedom to choose what kind of school she attends.  What time it would appear I gained has been supplanted with drive time and pick-up/drop-off lines...I think it's actually a loss.

I wince inwardly every time I see the curriculum around the house.  Every time I look at my calendar with the neat-o things we were planning to attend, it pains me.  I love the Enki curriculum, and I had high hopes and plans for our year together.

I feel like a failure on so many levels, if I let it get too low I feel nauseous.

Some recent observations:

• A leader cannot exercise her leadership skills, learn to work with others, when she's the only one in the room besides the teacher (if we totally let her run the show I'm certain she would in true dictator fashion)
• It's near impossible to teach selfless, unity, and oneness with human community without a community to work within (not one 2nd grade Enki homeschooler in the area??)
• it's not supposed to be so difficult, I'm aware that when things are right, everything falls into place (the very fact that there are so many Mile Hi'ers in her class is part'n' parcel to the rightness)
• unacceptable behavior is unacceptable no matter who it's coming from
• when asking for help, and the answer is undeniably clear, it would be an affront to divine nature to ignore such a gift no matter how uncomfortable the change may be

It's late, I'm sleepy, and sad, and scared, and anxious, and pensive....and reaching yet another, new level of acceptance and surrendering my will.

2nd grade, second First Day of School

We're doing something wrong, or by wrong I mean not enough of some thing that would support this little girl. 

And I'm at a loss.  I feel depleted and wonder if I've failed her some how, effed up the groundwork in her early years to have created these problems myself.  49-51% nurture v. nature on any given day, or at any given moment.  

When she and I do connect it's with a weird oppositional intensity that I don't really like participating with, and so recently have made progress at not participating.  But then I'm challenged redefining our connection 'cause I barely know what it should look and feel like. Firstborns really get the crap end of the stick, no?

While our lessons are thus far moving easily, it's only been a week, I suspect it's quite possibly solely because once she's completed it she gets to move on to whatever she likes, and lately I'm worthless in enforcing natural consequences much much later---and she knows I'm impotent as far as consequences.  Other than keeping her in indefinitely (punishing myself), I really have none.  I'm certainly not about to start beating her into submission.

I'm weary of being her target for insults and whatever she wants to physically hurl at me (yesterday it was a shredded tortilla, it's been a turtle, a book, anything within reach and within her momentarily limited reason). I really dislike hate her behavior, and feel that whatever consequences do crop up aren't enough 'cause the behaviors only seem to have patterned out.  There's little to no respect of my simple requests, and she'll effectively ignore me unless there's something in it for her.

So, is there something amiss with her functionality?  we wouldn't know as we've never had her assessed by  trained professionals.  This is a big concern if she's in a federally funded school, I don't want her intensity and big energy mistaken for some affliction-of-the-moment.  And I certainly don't want these attributes "educated" out of her.

I know I've got rose colored lenses on what we could  do with homeschooling, how rainbow mermaids, starry unicorns, and magical butterflies simply flock to our lovely soft-glowing house where gnomes and fairies reside and we leap and dance through a garden of mystical wildflowers....ppffffttt.

I peruse the possibilities, the questions and answers on the Enki support page. All the available information and I'm overwhelmed, feeling that I can't give her enough to fully support her development at this stage.  My energies are too divided.  I feel like if I'm struggling then I must be doing it wrong, it shouldn't be so emotionally draining.  It feels to me that with her behaviors she's asking for more.  More of what though?

It is possible that my discomfort is due to some inward shift, or combination of shifts hormonal (hair falling out) and otherwise.  I'm again at a loss as to how to sort my self out lacking time and solitude required.

Some kids go in and out of school, home schooling off and on as their needs change. It's not really fair to her siblings as she dominates time and energy, keeping us all guessing at what her next freak-out will be.  It's exhausting and we, I, need to widen the circle, get more support.

We're meeting with our L&L guru and Reverend this week. The only school I'd consider sending her into has an opening in 2nd grade classroom, and it's the only opening they have (local Waldorf charter).

I refuse to spend time in "what if" zone, it's a waste of precious resources, not to mention useless and pointless.  

In tears, I pray to listen, pray to hear, and pray for guidance.

2nd grade

This is first full day of second grade photo....it's not exactly what I had in mind. 

I had to bodily pull her back out of the car after this photo, then having deposited her at the HSC director's desk with a comment on how Exciting my morning had been, said, "I love you, have a great day."
Some possible reasons she was a feeling irritated:
She chose not to eat breakfast
She has her first soccer practice today
The sun was shining
She's simply nervous and scared and isn't very good about processing it.

Big sigh, and thank goodness for Love & Logic.

First Born & Parental Regret

Last night I read some pieces from a baby specific journal I've been keeping for the past 8 years.  Eight because it includes notes from ladies and mommas from my baby showers.  From the Firstborn through to last night I've been keeping as good a record as possible for Babies' Firsts and familial Banner Days.

This morning I came across a short video of Miss Monkey on her 3rd birthday....and it hurt.  Touched a sore spot I didn't know I had.  First time parent trying so hard to get it right.  Though it was apparent through my journal notes I had an awareness of the miraculous, I had yet to soak in it, to apply the mystic concepts of parenthood, i.e. limitless compassion, respecting the miracle, and unconditional loving with abandon.

So, to my firstborn daughter:  

I love you, so very much, I wanted so badly to make a good "first impression" with you, on your little life.  My regret looking back, I could've done better, faster.  We do the best we can with what we have, and I had already come much farther from my origin.  Though it hasn't been perfect by my definition, I can have faith that it's perfect in God's way.  One day you will surely understand, and from here, though there will still be some mistakes, I will do better by you, love.

And to my Self:  

It's okay, dear Ada, it's okay.  It's All, All Right in the end.   Just Keep Loving Forward.

Miss Monkey, 4 years ago

just a few days ago

Sweet grunts and squeaks, a fluffle-snort like a foal, chuffs and complaints, man-burps and butt noises, latch-snmacking while nursing, shrill squ-whistles on the inhale when suffering injustices of baby hood...this boy is noisey.  His voice is beginning to change into a baby cry from the newborn's signature lament, and it sounds a lot like E's tone and timber.  His choking and coughing at my let-down reflex, and his simple existent noisey-ness reminiscent of F.  But he is his own.  I know there are similarities, there should be, they are siblings.  But he is his a new unique instance.  

As a sleepy, sleepy baby, he takes a good long time grunting, stretching, and fluffling before he's fully awake.  Something I've had to ask the girls to "please, oh, please, do NOT disturb your brother until he's really awake!"  He's getting used to the crib by degrees, and I do enjoy a few hours sleeping 'alone'.  Co-sleeping has great advantages regards to bonding and easy access breastfeeding, I attribute his stellar weight gain partly to the co-sleeping.  What Mama would refuse opportunity to gaze at sleeping newborn? cuddled up and cozy? None, I say.  Since I heard a comic quip that babies don't sleep, I'm gaining new meaning for "sleep like a baby." It's that best sleep, the warm, safe, and loved sleep. Sleep that we all cherish and should be more sacred I think.  

A couple of weeks ago in his eyes there was fleeting vague recognition of his existence here, a brief connection when I looked into these deep blues.  Now, such a short time later, he's truly connecting with us.  Giving sweet new smiles by turn, and coo-ing in that magical new baby tone.

He's a standard issue miracle.  I'm so blessed to have three of these, and so, so grateful.

one was already awake

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!

The BIRTHDays Are Here

I had a lovely, simple birthday.  I got a nice breakfast, home facial, a bit of yoga, meditation, short Morning Lesson with my Big Girl, and off we went to celebrate a fabulous local shop's first birthday as well.  Though I spent too much time perusing the supplies we made it to my OB appointment then spent the afternoon with dear friends, Lucky Pie pizza, and Sweet Cow Ice Cream.  Back on our side of town we met for lite grocery shopping and a quick meal pick-up.  The girls were so wasted and belligerent with lack of rest (most especially the Younger of The Two) it was a sad comedy getting them fed and sacked out.  

The Elder of The Two then had her birthday celebration the following day, with a Kenpo sparring workshop, trips to the Lego and comic book stores, then a Rockin' Kitchen and ice cream get together at Scrumptious.  An unintended bonus is that her birthday is May the Fourth Be With You, so, many Star Wars perks were had.  

The weekend hasn't been without challenges here and there, nothing that Love & Logic skills couldn't handle.  In trying to keep it simple we overlooked a couple of things that were pretty important to Miss Monkey, namely singing the Birthday Song and blowing out candles.  We're still rookies in a certain sense when it comes to her, it's rather difficult to keep up with her expectations discerning which are truly important and which are red herrings.  As it turned out, those two items were non-negotiable, though everything else she listed about her day as not ideal weren't necessary.

Next weekend the Younger will have her birthday slightly occluded by her elder sister's first CARA gymnastics meet, otherwise it's business as usual.  I am starting to feel some real pressure to have certain items on hand before relaxing into the birthing process---like peanut butter, toilet paper, and frozen foods.  I am so ready to have this babe in arms rather than pummeling my innards, causing physical discomfort and effectively handicapping me.  Ideally, I'd like to have the entire house in proper order, but I'm realistic.  I've already wiped down a majority of the house as we moved in, no worries there.  Getting other things ready, however, has been a challenge as I feel I can't do anything until, but then there are To-Do's that must be done before.  I need a place for baby to sleep (when not with us in bed), a few items for the baby to wear, and a couple of swaddling blankets. The diapers are all collected and clean, ready to use.  Though I have to figure out a mattress and bedding for it, the crib is in house.  For myself, I'd like my sling, nursing cover, nursing bra or two, and an UnderCover Mama.....and maybe one or two other things that will come up as needs inevitably do.  

So it goes, so it beautifully goes.  I am so blessed, I am so grateful.

Monkey milestones

still sleeps on the floor now and then

On stage as the Evil Queen for Snow White

crazed for the tooth fairy

Mathematics block this month

random Quirkle fun

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.

Pregnant Once, Pregnant Twice, Pregnant Thrice

Yes, thrice, as in third, numero tres, troi.  

I knew before it was confirmed by doctor (of course), and had felt so good I wasn't sure I was correct except for that big missing red flag.  Interesting though how my mind might try and trick me just because I hadn't had "a professional" tell me what my body (and spirit) already knew.

One morning totally random dry heaving...mentioned to The Man, who, while in shock and some periodic discomforting disbelief, handled it in stride.  I was in some denial as well because of this surprise, but the signs were unmistakable.  Eventually, we made it to an OB appointment to chat with Doc and have a quickie ultrasound to peek-a-boo everything is in perfect order (per usual).  There was some discussion about "advanced maternal age" which is some quasi-arbitrary standard by which the medical establishment appears to push more testing and fear into pregnant momma minds.  We said, thank you and NO thank you, to that fear based mindset, all is well, and will continue to be so.

Miss Monkey is totally excited, loudly announcing and re-re-announcing to everyone we know, and trying sometimes to get strangers to ask after the subject by petting and hugging an kissing my newly (barely) protruding belly.  That was a short while go, now I'm fully into "beer gut" phase---the phase when, to the unpracticed youthful eye it looks like I've been hanging around keggers for a few months too long.  

Toddleator E is somewhat aware of what's happening mostly due to her big sister's example.  Both The Man & I have remarked that it's almost as if she knew she was a middle well before this occurrence  she's exceedingly silly and innocently sweet (most especially when her sister is misbehaving).   I am intermittently concerned about her adjustment this spring, but know that that is out of my hands mostly.  I will simply do my best to be present with her in some simple ritual every day (like naptime has become).

Another word for God is "SURPRISE!" and we are so blessed I can't be grateful enough.  Another spring time baby, our timing must be a little off though as this one seems to be slated for late May rather than early---I'll have to take this up with The Man. 

Happy Day!

:  )  A

Christmas Meaning

From our Christmas Mindfulness Questions
Day 1: What does Christmas really mean to me?

Truly before I had a baby it meant more about gifting and generosity than spiritually.  Now that I have personal understanding of the miraculous gift of life and consciousness Christmas takes on new meaning for me.  Especially since we have such a wonderful spiritual community to share it all with the whole season has snapped into a new dimension.  I still get a big charge from gifting to friends and family, I love surprising someone with a gift that has been brewing in my mind for months.  I adore shopping for Toys for Tots drives,  and the Angel Trees.  It's so fun to model generosity, to get excited, and keep the "gimmees" away.  This year, without means, I had to surrender any expectation of what I might purchase, work with The Man about how much/when/what we would purchase (practicing Unity of Purpose)---I couldn't plan a thing, surrendering totally on yet another level.  Would that I had infinite supply at my disposal in the form of money all the time and I might try and gift everyone all year long.  I want to do more, I always have wanted to do more, be of service in a bigger way.  Fortunately I recognize the power of the Spoken Word (b.k.a. prayer) and I do have an infinite immediate supply of prayerful abundance words for the world. (got a thrill of joyful goosebumps just now)

I know the history of Christmas celebration, the cobbling together of all the pagan/christian/roman/nordic symbolism that has become what we covet today, and I bring it lightly into conversation with my kiddos so they'll understand the history and significance rather than doggedly following without understanding.  I really appreciate and identify with the symbolism of re-birth of Christ Consciousness, our highest self, newly created, newly arrived, completely un-spoilt, beautiful, brilliant and wondrous---the way we all are when we first arrive here.  That's what "keeping Christmas well" throughout the year means to me, embodying that loving, compassionate, high consciousness every day of the year.  We don't have to let the outside material world determine the inside, we can reclaim this newly birthed beauty every moment, every day by simply getting still and Knowing the I AM is within always and all ways.

Happy Christmas!

: )   A

Letting Go

From our 12 days of Christmas Mindfulness Questions:

Day 4: What from the past year do I need to let go of?

The financial mistakes we've made---and I release them with joy and gratitude for lessons learned, looking forward to working within our means for the future.

After more than 2 years of trying to fix it-fix it-fix it NOW, and effectively martyring ourselves on the debt we owed we finally admitted we were powerless over our situation, what we’d been trying hadn’t worked, the situation was truly unmanageable.  Then we came to believe that we needed Higher Guidance, prayerfully made a decision to turn the solution and outcome over to God.  We’ve taken an extensive inventory of our debtors, and of our property, which when written out was horrifically out of balance. I gratefully realized we’ve been living pretty darn responsibly, having bought nothing new that we couldn’t find used or cheaper for several years now.  We’ve sat with The Lawyer and confessed all our shortcomings, signed all the paperwork, and asked that the shortcomings be reorganized, and relieved (b.k.a. Chapter 13).  Our amends will be in the form of payments to a trustee over the next years, additionally, continued living amends to our financial relationship, and our relationship with each other in regards to finances.  Going forward we’ll seek to understand what we need, to make an abundance plan (b.k.a. budget), and prayerfully & meditatively act within our means.  

Happy days ahead, debt free!

: )  A

p.s. I confess it feels incredible to know that gifts this year are paid for in full already, there will be no haunting of Christmas Past for 2013.

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.

Smile-faces for papa

Heart melting milestone.

Cheesey goodness

Oh the rewards of bravery with their "pokes" this week. Courageously she choose to get vaccs all done at one time instead of going back for repeat (therefore little sis did too).
We delayed a lot longer than the recommended schedule.
Doc complemented our diet & sleep habits, as well as the mental prepping I had done with them about the shots.  You see, I won't lie to my kids, my line is "yes, it will probably hurt, but it will pass and I will be with you the whole time."

Marvelous Monkey

I've had this post in mind since yesterday.
On our way to meet The Man at the gym, Miss Monkey seems to be struggling, gratefully I am aware enough to notice when it isn't something that can wait, she needed some time. And what might be so dramatic as to cause a mama pause?  Her sudden realization that her kitten isn't a kitten anymore, and he never will be again.

It started with her comment that she hated Darth Siddius because he wasn't a tiny little kitten anymore.  Then some lament about how she wouldn't want him to grow at all.  After consoling her, commiserating a little from my experience watching her grow so big from a tiny baby, how I miss her as a baby but I do love her wonderful big girl state now, and how I've loved every moment between.  Shortly, she came around to a more thinking state. 

Passage of time is such a gift. To know, really really know, that not a thing stays the same catalyzes understanding of our rare and precious experiences. I asked her if she thought the kitten would still act a kitten if he were to stay small--yes of course he would, right? I had to dash that fantasy, "no sweetheart, if he stayed small, he would grow and learn from inside, his kitty spirit would change with time, then eventually he would be an old cat in a kitten body. That sounds kinda sad to me."

To be in the moment to moment present, with no clinging to conditions or objects or actions, there can be only love....get some serious loving acceptance around impermanence....well here I am learning it and teaching it.
Happiest of precious, fleeting, days.
: )  <3

Finally an Etsy shop!

LOViNTee is on Etsy now!

Would that I had more fresh photos, it seems I'm constantly shipping items away before I could photograph them properly.  There's a massive learning curve to this, I've learned how to calculate my sales tax for the state and the city.  I'm learning about internet sales and marketing.  Promotion and sales are easy for me, I am a natural promoter, but I like face time better than screen time. Promoting my own product felt different, I'm emotionally vested in this endeavor.  There are finer points to learn about these things of course, between all my other joys in daily life I fit it all in somehow.  There is incredible satisfaction seeing my idea beautifully printed on a shirt going to someone sure to be satisfied.  When I wear my own designs I'm acutely aware of my conscious state.  I couldn't wear the "Kind" design without being accountable for my interactions with others and especially my kids.  I really do feel more "Powerful" or full of "Ease" wearing the I AM words.

There is always room for growth and learning, some days I get nothing done, other days I'm totally on top of it all.  Being gentle with myself has become [almost] second nature.  There really is plenty of time, for me to take this one step at a time.  Though I may be somewhat impatient with progress of my business' growth, I am faithful that every thing is in place now and will fall into place beautifully when the time comes.  Spirit never disappoints!