Precious Poppy

We were having such a hard time keeping Cora from stealing Sam's pacifiers which she refers to as "poppies".  When the house went quiet, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt she had located the forbidden fruit and was defiling it in her germ filled mouth some where in secret.  She burrows under blankets, pillows, or just behind her crazy fray of hair to hide. One time I found her perfectly coiled in my little suitcase, lid closed.  The blanket hide out is the best though.  She throws it over her head and leaves the rest of her naked self out to air dry. Its quite startling.

Cora can be such a bear.  Naturally, she loves stories about them.

Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Cora.

"No, I'm a big girl!" Oh, yes yes, of course.

Once upon a time there was a big girl named Cora.  She was a very fortunate girl.  She had so many poppies; one in every color of the rainbow.  Except she did not have blue.  Her baby brother had one poppy in the whole wide world to call his own and it just happened to be blue.  Cora wanted that poppy and she stopped at nothing to get it.
One day she sneaked into his sun filled room while he was napping and soothing himself away on that gloriously blue poppy.  She tip toed over to his bed and quick popped it out of this mouth.  His precious bottom lip puckered and quivered and then the loudest and saddest wail bellowed from his baby lungs.  A moment later, down the hall way, came a low growl and a fierce snarl.  Cora froze.  The terrible noise came closer and closer, until Cora saw a great big paw creep across the threshold to Sam's room.

**(I know this can sound traumatizing, but I'm paying close attention to my human test subjects and noting if there is any impending psychological damage..  Of course, I won't get my longitudinal results until they are all grown up and any unforeseen consequences have already and irrevocably occurred.    :) 

The beast was a dreadful bear who introduced himself as "the guardian of baby brothers and their poppies"

At this point Cora and I get into an argument about what happens next.  I say that the bear gives her a stern warning not to take Sam's pacifiers anymore, or else.....!  She is adamant that "character Cora" takes out her sword and kills the bear.  Swipe, swipe! "I kill you bear!"

Suffice it to say, I think the story has worked.  She no longer steals his poppies for sucking. She still looks at them hungrily though.  If the temptation is too great, she will grab for it and say "here you go!" or "let me wash it for you", just so she can have a moment with it alone in her hands.

Are you really FIVE years old?

The night you were induced, we were blaring Weezer through out the house.  Daddy was cleaning it like crazy and I was showering and curling my hair.  Ha!  I don't know why I wasted time on my hair.  The sweat of labor foiled my beautification attempt.
Well, turns out kiddo, induction wasn't working with you.  Figures.  It wasn't exactly your timing.  Twenty odd some hours later, I wasn't dilated and you were still the farthest point away from the exit.  It took a scalpel to get you here.  If it were not for your IUGR "diagnosis" I totally would have waited for your go ahead.  Nothing much has changed.
If you don't want to do something your heels are dug and they are not budging.  However, if your mind is made up, there is no stopping you and you're totally "cool with it".

I imagine your mind to be bolted shut with a complicated combination lock.  Experiences, stories told, music heard, tv shows watched, people interacted with, adventures that were had, all have an assigned number which remains unknown.  Rotating the sequence in the correct order:  turn left, then right, past 0 three times..... but who knows.... then suddenly Click! a part of your mind is thrown wide open and you swim, climb higher in the tree, pump your legs on the swing, read words and so on. Life is furiously working at trying to unlock the mysterious of you.  Some compartments are easier to get into than others.  I have witnessed some of the most rarest treasure spill out when a lock has been broken.  I never know when it will happen, but I'm so glad I get to be around when it does.

Ender, love, you've opened my eyes to the supernatural, to the humble, to God.  Thank you darling.  And here is to another year of discovery and loving you!

OCTOBER

The month I draw all my capital O's as little pumpkins. 
The month with the birthday cake scribbled on the 9th square for Ender.
The month I come crashing down the doors of Hobby Lobby for even MORE fall decorations. 

The month I try to convince Ender that he doesn't want to be B-Dog from Space Buddies for Halloween.
The month that needs to come full circle in Cora's head.  Last year at this time, a beast was born.  I'm hoping this time the beast doesn't die, (because the beast is fun to laugh at/with) but that it just learns some manners.
The month where magic steps out of hiding from the lidless eye of summer to flit and flutter over cooler days.
The month that Sammy smiles more and more at his lunatic mom and the siblings that drove her there. 

Raising a glass of cider to you October!  In the desert you are especially enchanting. 

Some photos from last year's October from our humble abode's perspective.

My Ghost Pumpkins didn't make it this year.  The delicate sprouts wilted and withered while we left on vacation. And the one that managed to survive has stayed no more than 3 inches tall.  He's a determined fellow.  I'm not sure why he isn't growing, though.  His neighbors, the lettuce and the pepper are thriving.  Hmm... maybe the seeds were duds.