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

Rainbow days

After a storm there are rainbows. I had several phone calls and a

surprise visit from The Man, I took small actions toward
mitigating the chaos, and started to feel better. That momentum built
a good finish to the day and into the next. Amazing how prayer works, even simply in the asking for help there is peace.
There were no giant altercations betwixt the girls, the baby was
typical happy baby, and I got some more done with the house. I forget that effectively we just moved in. Moving, remodeling, requires patience of process.

Grateful for the dojo as an added accountability for The Firstborn and her behavior.

Grateful on the way home this evening we chased a rainbow. F was so excited trying to figure out how to reach the end of that rainbow, I thoroughly enjoyed discussing strategy with her, negotiating where we should turn or of it was fading.

 Grateful for puzzle time with the Second born and soccer time with her sister, grateful for my ability to feed my baby and share my milk, most of all grateful for the abundance we love and live in.

Truly, Life is good, ALL The Time.

Another Spring Day

There's snow outside again.  Colorado springtime means fat snowflakes fluffing all over my truck.  Frenetic behavior of the weather one never knows if it'll be snow boots or Toms---I remember being so confused our first spring here.  So, we've been installed in the house for little more than a week.  The kitchen is mostly in place, and other rooms are falling into order around that hub.  But only barely falling into order.  There are boxes that won't be unpacked until the walls are painted, or there are shelves and cubbies to store items. Some boxes are such low priority I don't expect to see them until Christmas.  The floors turned out beautifully, and though the fumes were almost unbearable for a few days (for me), it's been lovely getting accustomed to the gentle distinctive creaks.  There is much work to be done improving the place, The Man has all kinds of plans and ideas.  He's alternately infuriated and excited about his self-described "new toy".  I imagine he's somewhat stressed out with the very idea of owning outright considering he's the bread winner right now.  With me rolling around, nearly ready to pop, I'm not much use when it comes to unpacking.  I can really only point and direct boxes to their proper and logical locations.  

I've only just today started to check in on supplies for Baby.  Really beginning to feel a bit of mental pressure to prepare.  Shockingly, when I sorted through the outsized/seasonal item bin, I found only four gender neutral items that would work for an infant. FOUR.  Two short-sleeve onesies (one stained but wearable), and two pair of overalls.  The rest of the items were iddy-biddy dresses for 18m little girl, and a few bigger-girl items I handed immediately to Miss monkey to distribute.  Gratefully diapers are totally taken care of, though I'd probably do well to get a shortlist together including newborn onesies and a few newborn pre-folds.  Then there are bigger ticket items that will postpone easily enough (Ergo carrier), or those I need to retract from friends, sadly.  All will come together though and in due time.

In the mean time,  here's a mandala that Miss Monkey designed and colored of her own accord.

F 2013 April

Just One Spring Morning

The Elder of The Two didn't want to wake pleasantly, or at all, this morning, and I refused to hang around trying to convince her otherwise.  Then began the slamming of doors.

So, I devised a training session.  The Younger of The Two and I would walk across to Starbucks, get some brunchy fun snacks.  The Elder missed out.

When we came back, Miss Monkey was lamentable and tragic as expected.  I empathized with her though she would accept none of it.  She got it in her head to go on her own.  She grabbed her money, donned her Easter shoes and headed down the sidewalk.

And *gasp* I didn't follow her.  Breathe. Pray. Repeat.  Not that I could follow in my gravid state, to engage would've created a physical altercation, in which I am unwilling to participate.  

She made it as far as the intersection (50 yds or so), hung around the fence line.  I could see her, though she didn't see me.  And I have it that she was looking to see who would follow.

She returned to change her shoes, left again in an entitled huff.  Made it just as far, returned again to tell me how I'm a Terrible Mother, and jogged back toward her ultimate goal again. This last time she was gone for almost 20 minutes.  20 loooong Mommy Minutes.  

I phoned everyone who knows Love & Logic....because what's next?  I even considered stretching my resources to instill a big scare from the Police, kinda grateful it didn't come to that.

When I began the phone call to a retired neighbor in our ex-townhouse unit, asking if he would take a walk and let me know where he spotted her, there she came walking from t'other direction back to Miss J's.  Her attitude hadn't much improved, but the door slamming wasn't quite as vehement.  

She never made it to Starbucks.  Knowing exactly where she was safe, she never crossed the road. (grateful mommy)  My guess, she stuck pretty close in to the Townhomes she's become so familiar with these past 2.5 years (grateful again).

perpetrator of drama

There will be a conversation later today, maybe tomorrow latest, regarding the situation without a total rehash lecture.  It's been a challenge with the upheaval of moving and the uncertainty of when we'll be in our house.  I'm so very very thankful for the skills I've gained parenting, I didn't engage, I didn't lose my temper, I used all my L&L phrases + empathy.  

I let her work it out and saw evidence that we've done right thus far.  She knew her limits, and was entrusted with them, and entrusted that she'd work it out and return, which she did. Some part of me knew that she would.  *momma relieved sigh* 

Now, to get on with the day.  Oh what a beautiful morning, oh what a beautiful day!

The witness, who fell out of a chair &
was scratched severely by Porter (she insists on getting in his face)
during the whole fiasco.

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

Begin the Move Again

Day 3 of home stay due to some smaller person having a fever. So, to review, that's: a cold of some sort between the two of them, a mercifully quick & mild tummy bug, then a really high fever + headache/cough lite congestion for the younger then the elder.  One day they have no fever, then 102+, it's kinda weird.

I am healthy, and grateful for it, rather refusing this bout for myself.  I disinfected the house yesterday.  Every surface within reach of small hands was wiped with my preferred solution, including & not limited to light switches, door jams & counter tops.

More packing done. I can actually be grateful that I'm really good at it, as I've moved more than a dozen times in my life since moving out of childhood home, and efficiency is key.  

Weeks before hand, begin with an area a day. Items in storage, re-organize, consolidate, re-box, and stage. 

In the living spaces, start with knick-knack items, decor, books, and photographs (I've consolidated all the wall photos, etc. to one area for now).

Any clothing in storage (regular clothes in my current case), use [one of many] bags/suitcases to pack ready-to-move.

Rotate to packing items in the kitchen and hobby/play rooms that aren't essential, i.e. craft bins, fabric bins, baking pans, fancy dishes and platters---anything in cabinets that only gets use once a month or less.

Label everything with quality masking tape and sharpie (preferred method).  I've a memory for a lot of things, however, if something is in a box for more than a month I'll question whether it existed at all when I suddenly miss it.

some bins we've had for years

The best part of moving?  Culling through what one doesn't need.  I actually really enjoy and appreciate the process to minimalize belongings.  Things that used to hold such importance, no longer do.  I've honed a skill, the skill of examining items for their worth to me.  

Will this be important by this time next year?  Out of all the art work my girls turn out, which one will I really remember, yield the past pleasure of their little-ness, in 30 years? (and then gauge their interest in keeping it---has it been on the playroom floor for the past 2 months?)  

Have I worn this in the past year?  Will I be able to wear it within a year?  

Is this item worth transporting again?  Is this item worth continued storage?  (something I estimate with the girls' clothing, because anything I gauge worthy to pass on to the younger one must be stored for minimum 2 years before fitting)

Is this item necessary to my happy existence?  Well, no, really none of it is necessary stuff.  These photos, mementos, small objects brought by little hands....necessary? no.  But en-joy-able? yes.  Sentimentality has its place, though, applied to objects, if it ever gets in the way of my Self-Health or those relationships I have with those around me---well, no Thing is worth more than a relationship.

And if one is 7 months pregnant, don't fool around, lifting and moving boxes doesn't really have to be done right now.  Let someone else do it. Really, truly, remember to ask for help.

Day 19
Meditation 20 + prayer
Home day(again) so lots of packing done = exercise for pregnant lady?
It was yesterday.
I am so grateful for the synchronicity of God-the-universe....The
House is in effect!
Disinfecting this home happily
Eating & drinking exceptionally well staving off whatever it is girls contracted
I am healthy, I am well repetitively mantra-ed
Reading for pleasure, Tolstoy's Karenina

Day 18
Meditation 17 (difficult this afternoon, no particular reason)
Prayer
Reaching out with Love to an acquaintance on a more in depth spiritual level
Reading
Rest 20
Felt good to get some behind the scenes (basement) organizing & packing done
Active packing, decent enough short workout, shouldn't have been
lifting most likely though
Taking care of business

Mommy Lost her Sh*t

I am not perfect, I have a wicked temper once my patience has worn out.  Emotions can be just as dangerous and addictive as any drug, and more subtly damaging to those around us in certain ways.  

It begins with a certain combination of occurrences, stresses that quietly pile up.  

Filing Chapter 13, we have to move within 3 months, pregnancy, baby due in a few more months and no outlet for small nesting instincts, frustration and confusion around stuff built up and resistance to culling it now because I'd rather when I start packing, prayer-meditation-meetings back-seated to other activities for those around me....an evening after a long (albeit successful) day, when he and I both just need a moment to ourselves, a screaming toddler awakened after she'd fallen asleep, we turn on each other...suddenly I'm feeling alone alone alone, with no help and no way out and some little belligerent person who will not got the f*ck to sleep!

So, yes, I utterly abandoned reason, and love, and hope for an hour or so.  It's a dark place that I'm un-accepting of its powerful existence, a Jungian mirror of my general upward spiral in consciousness.  

Is it okay that I lost my temper in front of my kids?  Most definitely, yes. Only because when we're all over the emotional compromise, back in a thinking state, we talk about it, we hug and make-up.  I admitted my defect, I use "I feel" statements, I talk about how I don't like behaving like that and I will do better.  

Some might say that I've completely thrashed all the progress I've made, I disagree.  One set-back does not a ruin make.  If I were mid-race and got a flat, they wouldn't make me begin again at the starting line.  The truth is I'm behaving worlds different than I might be if I hadn't done spiritual study, and worked it in the past 8 years.  I'm not excusing the behavior, but I'm allowing my humanity, my learning curve.  I could put on a hair shirt and self-flagellate for days, weeks, months, begging forgiveness reminding them of my terrible awful transgression....that however, is a teaspoon of self-esteem disguising a thousand pound ego.  I obviously need to be more vigilent, not less, around what I do for my Self.

Other ways to let angry energy out:  scribble/draw an angry picture, grounded scream, stomping, running, finding a lonely place and yelling, journaling, phoning someone to reason it out/cry/laugh aloud at our ineptitude some days.

Above all You are NOT alone.

"We should also erase the thoughts of yesterday that would rob us of today's happiness."    

SOM p.245

break it, learn from it, stitch it up, keep moving forward

At Our Table

My daughter lights the candle for love, gratitude, and peace. We share our tasty meal of The Man's fantabulous bean soup over rice with fresh parmesan.  We chat about people we saw this week and funny things that happened. Then pass around the experimental rice flour brownies, which are flavorful and somehow spongy like a rice pudding. Doesn't matter though, 'cause the girls enjoy them anyway. 
Over brownies we play, "I'm taking to our very own home...." If its any indication we'll have three Guinea pigs, the kitten, the whole family (thank goodness, wouldn't want to leave anyone behind!), and of course plenty of love, satisfaction, fun, and adventure.
Happy day!
: )  <3

Porter in the Klink

Our Porter kitty spent the last few days at Miss M's in his kennel.  Evidence pointed to a territorial outburst between Pan and Himself.  There was fair warning of this when it was discovered he was searching out Pan to pick fights, then he was found bullying her in Miss M's closet.  When he was discovered pseudo-spraying the sewing room, Miss M's inner sanctum, he had to be kennel-ized.  For the last 4 days or so while we were with her, Porter was allowed 2 "walks" in the "yard"(a.k.a. the mudroom) where he was fed & watered and used the box.  In general he handled it well, I think he understood he had done wrong.

Now we are a week into the townhouse.  While certain of the arrangements were rather disappointing---we felt a little taken advantage of---that aside, we are making ourselves comfortable and think we will enjoy it here.  Porter has spent the first week tormenting my loving husband, sending him into fits of frustration, clawing his way into the access panels of the master bath tub.  My mate was all a tizzy with day dreams of deceased kitty, bio-hazards, and death-rot par fume.  Finally, The Man simply liquid-nailed the panels shut, and Porter looked bored yesterday having his fun cut short.

The kitchen is unpacked, the laundry is cycling, we're slowly getting it up and running.  About moving: it's expensive to set up household over and over, the workload tends to triple.  In addition, to all the regular cooking, errands, tidying, there's unpacking to do in every spare moment.  And Halloween is coming, I've got to get costumes together for the offspring, get some activities planned with friends, begin planning for pumpkins!  My it's a beautiful life!

Moving is completed after many many trips to ARC Thrift for donations, the the storage room, and to Miss M's who generously opened her home to us for this month.

The second to last trip from the rental house, sweaty, tired, crying baby behind me, rush hour traffic, and a toy in a bag next to me singing a random "camptown races sing this song, do-dah, do-dah---DING DONG!---BEEP-BEEP!...camptown race is---HONK-HONK!....do-dah, do-daaah---DING-DONG!"

It's more warbled and mistuned because the batteries are dying.

I just laughed and laughed. The ridiculousness of the enormity of what I'd just completed in the past few days culminating in hilarity. Insanity made sane by grace and ease, knowing this too shall pass and it does not have to be done all at once.

Thank the goodness it's over for the time being. May a house to own soon be ours!

Bridged the gap

By god-the-universe serendiptous occurences all in the right order at the right time, we get to stay in Denver area! While we are still moving out of the current rental, and plan to actively search for a lease w/ option, I can relax and make plans...long term plans, for the first time in my adult life. Not only I can, but I also want to. The Man secured, by his extensive skill set, a VP position with a growing construction company.

HIP-HIP, HOORAY!! HIP-HIP, HOORAY!! HIP-HIP, HOORAY!!

So here is a gratitude list of late.
A -- action and the action of inaction
B -- being in the moment
C -- Colorado's state medical assistance for pregnant women & children
D -- downright REAL people
E -- evergreen smells on a walk with Miss Monkey
F -- friends whom we love and love us right back
G -- grapes
H -- help
I -- ideas, of the creative sort
J -- just for today
K -- kumquat, 'cause it's a fun word
L -- love
M -- my man
N -- new friends
O -- old friends, too, though I don't get to talk to you much I still love you all
P -- peanut butter squeeze packets that keep me alive while out and about with the girls
Q -- quick queen of quincy and her quacking quackeroo
R -- rest
S -- starlight
T -- Truth
U -- unbound freedom
V -- visualization
W -- web communications
X -- eXcruciatingly joyful moments
Y -- yellow shoes
Z -- zeal, living my life with it

"The world cannot be discovered by a journey of miles…only by a spiritual journey…by which we arrive at the ground at our feet, and learn to be at home."

---Wendell Berry

While in California, participating in a party game some sort, I was gifted a frame that said, "Bloom where you are planted." A mentor recently used the same phrase during our phone conversation. I believe we have bloomed here in Colorado. We have a community of friends and acquaintances here. Real people with mature relationships for the first time in my adult life. So, my intention is that we should stay here and tough it out. I will not sit in a state of paralyzed fear, letting things slip because I'm too worried about how much there is to do, how it'll get done, or what will happen next. Starting over from scratch here or anywhere else will feel the same. The feeling of self-will that would propel us away from here is familiar. It's difficult to distinguish between "heart felt" Ego and the true heart's desire. Because Ego is tricky it will resort to anything in order to remain in control (rather the illusion of control, no?), and to keep up the tension of drama it survives on. Moving is very stressful, very dramatic, and doesn't necessarily solve anything. There are people here willing and ready to help us, opening their homes enabling us to stay together while my husband works on a contract job he's recently connected. Texas is postponed, allowing for more connections to be made.

I once used geographic solutions regularly, albeit in a smallish area. I felt that once a lease was up, I was burnt in that area and really needed to leave. Or it wasn't perfect there, so I had to look for that perfection elsewhere. Moving around a lot doesn't allow friendships to develop to a mature level, and I know now that's what I was really avoiding. Once in a place where people began to know me rather well (or as well as I would allow) I felt pressure to get out while I still could, because I was utterly convinced that my friends wouldn't and couldn't accept me with my faults as well as my assets. I had to leave in order to preserve some legendary perfection that doesn't exist.

It's comical in a sad sort of way.

Here, we have all the things we could ask for, and yet the prosperity seems to have eluded us for the time being. Forcing me to ask: Which is more important, community & quality of life? Or money?

MOVING as an Olympic Event?

Our move is done. I think in the future, entertainment value will be assigned to everyday endurance events, like moving with a Toddleator in tow. There might be an entirely separate olympics for moms, classified by number and ages of children, challenge level based on amount of time for planning. Each mom given a task of certain level to complete, judged by the timely-ness and smoothness of transition, and condition of children upon completion. Howzat for challenging?
I have also fantasized about TriathMOM races, for moms with preschoolers, racing with the kids, moving them through transition. Must arrange for childcare for the swim, then plopped in a trailer for bike, and transferred to jogger for the run, all while trying to ensure that child is safe and happy...wouldn't THAT be fun and interesting???

The entire move was real smooth, actually. Fiona handled it very well I think, in part due to my talking about it waaay ahead of time, and not letting things pile up in the last days. I succeeded in taking it all a bit at a time, having somewhat of a schedule of packing. We were on paper plates and frozen foods in the last days, cooking out of only one pan. NO complaints about the movers either, if you're thinking of moving to/from CO, or northern Denver area, MOVING CONNECTION is super. Cost-effective, the guys were respectful, professional, and careful. Gary & I were both impressed. It was such a different experience from the last movers from CA to CO.
More to come sooner or later, I simply must get some exercise this morning before it's too hot!

Seems only yesterday...

Yes, I cliched, 'cause it does seem like she was just in diapers non-stop. The Toddleator is almost potty learned---almost. It seems that she's experimenting with control today, and while playing with the water in the sink as I cleaned up the dinner dishes, she lost some "control". Accidents will happen, though. It doesn't pay to be squeamish in this profession. Usually when she's so into what she's doing, completely distracted, that she forgets to go to the potty. So long as I am calm about the whole process, she will be, too. I have to remember that though she shows a lot of potential for learning the potty very quickly---on the easy days---she is only 2. Which means her attention span lasts only minutes if I'm lucky, she's ultra-tenacious, and might appear stone deaf the way she's capable of ignoring me. Lately she's started yelling, "NO! GO!" (as in, GO away from where you are) "STOP!", and today she screamed at me in frustration. Most of the time my response is to ask, "Are you mad at mommy for...(disallowing somesuch)? Show me how mad you are! Stomp your feet, flail around...my goodness, you ARE mad. Well, mommy can't let you do that because..." If she's screaming, usually she acts like she might let me pick her up, but then flails and hits/kicks at me when I do try. Today it seemed she just wanted me to watch her antics..."ok, if you need some time to calm down, or scream or cry, please do it in your room, Little One." When she's calm again, I talk about how she must have been feeling, or theorize why she was so upset, and then reaffirm my unconditional love for her. I am not perfect, I have been known to lose my sh*t. Then when I'm calm, I lovingly reassure her, explain why I got so upset and that it was bad behavior for mommy, and apologize. (But I retain the tenet; "Don't be sorry, just be different." I'm better everyday.) It is utterly amazing, usually Fiona will give me a kiss, or a hug by way of making up. I really think that we don't give these new tiny humans enough credit in their understanding of the world.
In the last couple of weeks she's been prone to wake up real early (4-5am) some mornings and trot, yes, TROT, around the apartment. I blame Porter-kitty for going into her room immediately upon hearing her stir, she sees him and figures, "HEY, catty is awake, I can be too!" I stumble to her room, mumble something about her going back to her bed. She might start screeching and crying...and I'll tell you what, that is absolutely the worst noise to hear first thing in the morning before pee, before coffee, before even that first deep breath. I had to explain to her that if the sun isn't up, it's not time to get up, it's still sleeping time. That may back fire on me later---I've really got to get her a clock, we'll continue working on her numbers. We'll work on not venturing out until the little hand hits the 7 at the earliest.

In other news, we are moving 2 weeks from now, to a suburb of Denver. A house, quiet, in situ laundry, mature neighborhood. I'm tempted to explore making a business of packing & moving for other people...I've had enough practice, I bet there are people out there that may appreciate someone else's expertise to move their personal goods from house to house...I wonder if that's lucrative?

Mayhem

The place is a wreck, and understandably so! The entire weekend is devoted to unpacking and assessing damages. The movers that pulled everything out of the house in Roseville were, um, less than careful it seems. I wonder what our new (as of May) furniture will look like after yet another move--'cause we know when we buy a house it'll be a three-peat.
Unpacking with a Toddlator scampering about is a challenge, more so when she's suddenly tired or hungry and mommy-needy. There is a LOT of work to be done. It's Sunday though so it calls for pancakes and football, maybe I can get some packing done between them.
Baby girl seems to appreciate her toys out of the boxes now, her favorite right now is a tapping game I shipped from Moolka Toysite. This morning she dragged the bear & lion around that I'd had in storage for over a year now. She really likes music, and appears she is beginning to 'pretend' with items. I am so excited for Christmas-time! I've already got a bunch of gift ideas for Fiona. The fall weather has almost arrived, a few leaves on one or two trees we've seen have turned, maybe a little prematurely, but it's exciting just the same. Well, back to UN-packing, just wanted to blurb a bit!