High Five!

Cora made the funeral march with me out to the recycle bin and watched as our vacuum cleaner was chucked.  "Wait, what are you doing? Don't throw it away!"  I give her a logical explanation as to why the vacuum cleaner needs trashing and yet...

"I'm sensitive to old things"

I can't help but smile big.  Yes, Cora!

I remember sitting in my parent's garage, staring deep into the unblinking headlights of our blue volkswagon van crying because my parents were going to sell her.  We talked for a long time, me mostly sobbing out thank yous and her saying nothing as most vans do.  She faithfully hauled our family west on the I-40 when we moved from Oklahoma.  She protected me and my sister while we slept in the early morning hours, as we took daddy to work.  We laid without seat belts and pressed ourselves against the heater as her engine lulled us back to sleep.

  I remember too, lady.  The vacuum used to be my sister in laws and she gave it to us when it seemed all we could afford was hand me downs.  It was the first to show me Ender's acute dexterity and focus at the crawling age.  It was the horsey that the kids rode around while it sucked up cheerios, dog hair and the sacrificial lego.  And it taught the kids one of their first hard lessons in cause and effect.  Push this button and the cord whips to attention and winds back up inside the machine.  One of their favorite games.

I wouldn't be surprised if I find a place in heaven for old machines.  OR I have been thoroughly brainwashed by "The Brave Little Toaster".  (highly likely)

If Cora views you as more vulnerable than her (Sam, Gunther, even me in a stressful situation) she has your back.
No spanking for Sam, no scolding for Gunther and "please Sam, you need to be more generous to mom.  She's the one doing everything and you're just sitting there eating."

If I am complaining about something, she will unapologetically remind me, "Life is life mom, get over it"

Wild and free, the ne ne bird is yet to be extinct in our house.   No clothes, no problem.

Cora, She's Four!

.I can do it myself.

.I'll never give up!

.I can count to 100! (almost)

.Sam cut my hair.  .Sam cut Ender's home work. .Sam cut Grandma's sheets. (forgot to tell you about that one, sorry!)

And today,

.I'm four and I'm here to save the day!

There's a fire that started four years ago and has since to sputter out.  In fact, what was once a small ember is now tiny, flickering flames.  She warms me to my marrow. 

Tut Tut Looks Like Rain

  She's my little storm cloud that followed me around this beautiful sunny day.  She was almost a constant dribble of cries and complaints.  I was soaked and tired from her mini tempest.  Once we were back at the shelter of the cabin, I plugged that pie hole with one of her grotesque poppies and plopped her in bed for a nap.    She woke up with a silver lining.  Thankfully.

I think this is how it went......

God looked and saw a very pathetic girl.  Her eyes tended to roll backward and inward instead of out and up like the other little girls at school.  Her legs were sturdy and fast, but ran to no where.  At the tip of her nose was always a book titled Escape. 

"Hmm." thought He.

He called out into the great light of stars and planets and soon three sages appeared at His feet.

"I have a very humble mission for you.  You will go and teach one of my wayward daughters about Me and how much I love her.  You will find her on the outskirts, easily recognizable as the stubborn ass.  You might even find her donning a tail and little hairy ears.  Draw her back in again.  There is no fame and glory in this quest for you or her.  Nevertheless, go and bring her back to me."

With a great sigh the three sages departed.  One, Two, Three they came.

I'm not entirely confident they are taking their job seriously anymore.....

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.

It used to be that Oak Creek canyon would begin to feel suffocating after a few days spent crawling around like an ant at the bottom.  Restlessness would begin to set in my bones and I'd want to escape to the wide open.

 Now, I know it's embrace was only meant to hold me until I stopped squirming from the fruitless busyness of my mind.  It holds me like Zander holds the children when they are having a complete utter melt downs.  Once I'm swaddled in emerald trees and the glowing rose of the canyon walls, I stop fighting.  I think I just might be learning how to be a child again: puttering around in an orchard, stopping for what seems like eons to let a snail pass, watching movie after movie not caring about the latest child development research, napping, snacking, playing, making unbeautiful messes..

And lets not kid ourselves, this is the reality of living with Calamity Cora these days.  

 

Of this picture Zander says. "you're welcome"

Basically this trip was about "we'll do anything to escape the heat even it means sleeping in a two bedroom condo with Cora"  I am only kidding a little bit.  Honestly, the best thing about this trip was Zander.  He is such a beacon and anchor.  He can seem to exists simultaneously on earth and heaven.  I lavish upon him because its so hard so very hard to get back up on your feet after having a baby.  Well its is for me anyway.

 

 

 Everyone on this trip did awesome.  We told ourselves that this wasn't going to be a vacation, only a new home. So we were expecting to do just as we did in the valley except in Sedona.  Our new home had a dishwasher, king sized bed, kids room upstairs with a gate to keep Cora at bay (or to protect her from falling down the stairs, but mainly to trap her), our new backyard was an apple orchard enclosed with black berry bushes where Gunther pounded his paws over swells of tall grass chasing his ball, and the kids, well, after a while they got the idea we could care less if they cried or whined, so they climbed trees and chomped on apples.

 

Sam would sleep so his siblings could terrorize the pristine creek.

 

He loved his lazy boy the most though. 

Our days could have stretched into months, but we ran out of food. 

Afternoon Storms

 

Those are some well defined ribs.  He "has a hole in his leg" as the expression goes.  This kid eats basically everything and anything.  He would guzzle a gallon of milk in a few days if we let him.   

 Ender changes outfits atleast twice a day.  Summer or winter he'd rather be in his "tarzans" (underwear) Cora, summer or winter would rather be buck naked.  In the winter, however she orders me to roll out the space heater in the kitchen so she can eat breakfast comfortably.  Anyway....

The lightning and thunder splintered and cracked the iron clouds.  Rain gushed out and my tough girl that likes to push her big brother around whimpered and begged to go back inside.  The thunder was intense, its great sound smashing straight over head, but I couldn't go inside.  Its not me.  I tried to comfort her with a little education and teach her to count the seconds between the flash of light and the peal of thunder.  I think it took hold.  Later that evening, she and Gunther accompanied me on a puddle jumping walk while the sky still gurgled and fizzed with electric clouds.  I am beginning to pay more heed to her.  She has always been so simple to interact with, yet lately, she is demanding a more complex response from me and zander.  Some things she just can't get over as easily like before. She needs a human connection to encourage, persuade or distract her.  It only takes a moment of this "extra effort" and she's back on track, but if you choose to dismiss her feelings.... cover your ears and duck because she's coming for you.  Its a normal and healthy thing being 2 1/2, its just that the majority of my mental energy was required by our strong willed Ender.  "Oh would you look at that, Cora needs a mom and a dad too.  Make room Ender Johnny" 

"Ender, last night your daddy and I dreamed and imagined a fort that hovers over our garden!"

"ohh, last night I dreamed I was swimming in a big cup of milk.  Cora, what did you dream last night?"

"uh uh uh uh I dream I dream I dream, of duh MOON!"

"Oh, that it turned into a star and came down and hit you on the face?" - offers Ender

"Uh, yeah!" she readily affirms. 

Goons.

They ride when daddy comes home from work.  Only Cora would dare the devil to scare her away from the easy rider.  Only Ender would be deft enough to safely operate it.  Zander has crashed those kids more than I can count, and Ender, he's like that guy on Grease 2:  the cute nerd who is smart enough to ride cautiously.

But still, the way this easy rider operates, it goes super fast and whips the kids around tight corners.  Hilarious!

 

Cora definitely plays the "bad girl" role.  She's an animal. 

The sun rises in the afternoon.

I see her rise three times a day, actually.

First, as the familiar one to us all, breaking over the horizon, spilling herself through our curtains.  I pull myself out of bed.

Second, she curls her sleepy sunbeams around my neck, for a good morning hug and I lift her from the crib.

Then my sun girl lays quietly in a cloud of afternoon dreams. 

And, when the day is waning, and the shadows lengthening, she rises once more beaming and bursting with light.

She'll warm you, she'll burn you. She was set in motion by a higher power than me long before her nature like counter part was hung in the sky.

I'd also like to mention, I feel like a baker pulling a fresh loaf of bread out of the oven every time I lift Cora out of bed in the morning.  I exchange an apron for rumpled pajamas and the pride of a baker's creative work for the humbleness of knowing that I was once only the oven myself for this lump of dough. 

 

Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue

If happy little bluebirds fly

Beyond the rainbow, why oh why can't I

She's a menace to a clean outfit, room, and schedule. She'll knock down your walls and let the light flood every corner. 

There are clouds in my mind.  The kind you would find sulking around over the moors in a Jane Austen novel.  I bat at them, try to shoo them away, but they persist.

A glint of shining blue catches my eye beyond the grey and its little lady lynn fluttering whimsically here or there.  She is a bowling ball of a thing, but whips and whirls as light and delicate as a bubble.  I love her.  Her chirping charms me.  I want to join her, but the low lying clouds slither around my ankles and shift into heavy chains that keep me earth bound.  Lead me to the rock that is higher than I. 

Its not really who I think it is.  The neighbor, girlfriend,or estranged acquaintance, but a 3 headed demon of bitterness, envy and pride.  My opponent is in the ring with boxing gloves on taunting me while I try to shield the children's eyes from its hideous form.  I try buckling Cora in the car seat and her screaming protests begin to compete with the hissing from the ring.  Ender's whining and complaining gets caught among the lying and the jeering coming from the spiritual beast.  I plow forward to nap time.

Its at nap time that the house quiets and the fight can get serious.  You open your Bible, bow your head and glove up. 

When she fixes her gaze, her eyes are chiseled stone set under a pale smooth cliff.  But she is afraid of dragons. However, we know her heart to be stout like a dwarf, joyful like a hobbit and deep like the elves.  So... Zander showed her this clip tonight before bedtime.  He cried....no surprise there.

But he also cried with a father's proud and sentimental love when he found a top female wrestler that reminded him of Cora.  I'll have to post an interview of her sometime.

Garden trolls.  They confound you with their mischievous glee and leave you simultaneously joyful and infuriated.  I distinctly avoided books like the Cat in the Hat and Amelia Bedilia and the one cartoon Lilo and Stitch....As a kid I could never equate messy with funny.   I still can't.

But here I am dealing with a particularly horrid beast.  Cora, of course.  She pleasures in grinding baby green caterpillars between her claws of fleshy steel.  She hunts them down and tries to drown them in the dog's water bowl. (A great pesticide if your four year doesn't want to save them for his habitat)  She will rip your herb's roots from their damp dark safety and watch them burn and dry up in the sun.  She's little, she's round, but she moves with fire in her toes.

The world is her playground and she is having the time of her life.  She owns it with no responsibility or grave consequence.   She is so happy and is befuddled at your outbursts over her destructive joy.

I can see her storming the gates of hell with Jesus, once her brain is fully developed, and by prayer and petition she progresses in sympathy and empathy. 

a shadow falls

Something has taken place.  Something my eyes cannot see.  But little miss sunshine scowls and won't stop.  The moon has been swelling until it reached its full moon peak last night.  She has had a few diaper blow outs.  She sticks her finger up her nose and says "owie".  But, baffled I remain.  Quite frankly, she's been a big pain in the butt.

Zander describes her joy as Mexican candy.  Chili powder coated candy.  It makes perfect sense if you personally knew our gnome. 

here is to having wisdom in waiting for whatever the foul thats making her fussy will pass.

Haphazard Halloween

 Around our house, we don't buy costumes, and we don't D-I-Y costumes either.  Let the photos be proof of how much fun can be had from your closet at the eleventh hour! 

 Albert Einstein in the making......

 Albert(a), extremely  bristled and ruffled up. A few jelly beans later and those pathetic excuses for eyebrows were forgotten.  She wouldn't put up with a mustache, though....  She is an unfortunate mix of einstein, and an  oompa loompa.  Hmm.... next year I think she could easily pull off the creepy servants of Mr Wonka. In the mean time, I must keep her from watching any Disney princess movie that could thwart my plans.       

 Round Two.  A clown dolly?  A hunter army guy dude person?

 I was in the process of going for a windup doll.