Groom Creek

It's highly likely that gigantic wild things rolled and rollicked in the woods, turning up great mammoth pieces of granite for their playground equipment. Then, as it usually goes, mysteriously vanished, leaving only evidence behind for the believers.  
The kids and their two little friends went rogue.  The boulders and trees swallowed them up and spat them out again feral and happy. They encountered another gaggle of kids and at one point, it seemed, as though two warring parties would be, once and for all, staking claim on this granite kingdom.  Alas, they made peace and joined forces instead.

We climbed all day.  Exhilarating.

 

Penumbra is still worth it

At ten o clock the night before, it just occurred to me that there was going to be a total eclipse of the sun and it's path of totality and would be gracing the beautiful states of America.  I started reading all the hype on the internet about it and got swept away real quick.  Worry set it.  Ender's school was going to keep him inside during the eclipse.  As was Cora's.  Ping pong went my thoughts.  Should I or should I not take them out of school so they could experience the event, even if it would only be partially obscured?  Am I bad mom?  It's times like these I close my eyes and pretend to have wrinkly skin and grey hair.  My elderly more cinical self laughed at my younger more uptight self.  Wait, was she laughing at me cause I worry too much and lack wisdom, just keep them in school?  Or was she laughing because I worry too much and just let 'em play hookie for crying out loud?!  I called mama.  I fretted over the phone with her.   All night I stewed.  But woke up and decided away we fly with handmade pin holes to the archery range.

There were clouds, there was heat, there was a two year old and there was, inevitably, somebody who had to poop.

So, away we went to my parent's house around the bend.

The boy creator, the girl explorer, and the baby juggernaut suffer their mama's ideas.  I dare say they love it.

The moon slipped perfectly over the sun.  The iris and the pupil, unblinking down at their inquisitive earthlings.

Johnny Rocket

An invasion.  Out of no where.  Russia, the blessed United States, the conspiracy theorists, no one, saw them coming.  Except one.
The world is under attack, it could be the end.
But there is a boy.
Just the other morning he was breaking the news to his mama that he "had to wait till  he was 30 until he could build a rocket ship to take her to the moon"
Today he squeezes his eyes shut and blows out all the candles he has to work with, a handful, just 5.
But he musters up to the courage for the fight.
An invasion like this, though?  "It could be a slice of cake", he thinks. For no one would have ever suspected that he has survived the hatching of Corzilla.
He's ready for anything now.
Kindergarten.
Peeing in public restrooms.
For whatever this world or other worlds will throw at him.
They call him Johnny ROcKeT.
Thirty will have to wait.  He's gotta rocket ship to build.
It will be the first lego engineered shuttle expected to withstand launch and an alien attack of unknown extra terrestrial technology.
His mom was suspicious of something brilliant  going down behind those "nap time" doors when Johnny came out more exhausted then when he went in and took down a gallon of milk by himself.
Save your lego kids.  You never known when the Commander in Chief will upon you. 

Where to begin.

Have you every asked a spider if it hurts to molt?
Freshly molted spiders are very soft and vulnerable until their new exoskeletons harden.

My sister recently gave birth to a baby girl.

Quinn Isabella.

Quinn has down syndrome.

Can I say the words shock, denial, devastation,  grief?  That was me when mama's words slammed into my chest.   Then followed by self hate and guilt for experiencing those feelings.  Zander, mom, told me that it was normal to mourn.   But no I screamed inside my head.  Mourning shouldn't be normal, its not fair.  How could I feel anything but joy over this amazing little creation?  But I did and am still doing to be honest.

Part of me wants to wrap my arms around Morgan and Quinn and shelter them from the world.  Saying "Dont you dare look at them and feel what I'm feeling.  We're wrong.  Don't gawk and feel sorry for them, like I did."  But beauty such as Quinn's cannot be hidden, especially under a cloak of fear.  Its irrational to try and snuff out the sun with your thumb. Quinn dares us all to look, stare, and wonder at her exquisite form.  She's magic.  Don't catch her gaze if you're not willing to be transformed and leave your old self behind for something better. 

Because its painful to shed this old layer of skin.  Underneath is raw. I am soft and vulnerable until this new layer of truth can harden like armor protecting me against my enemies.  And it will.

Happy Birthday darling boy

Your last summer of being three was stormy.  I'm thankful that I'm saying that literally and not as an analogy to your life.  The clouds tumbled & tussled with the wind and broke their dewy sweat over your upturned face.  Lightning skewered the dark and left brief wounds of light in your eyes.  You spent your last summer of three with an upturned face, catching rain drops on your tongue.   You are so happy.  You have come along way since your shrill shrieking days of infancy.  You were only a babe, you are only a boy child and yet God uses you in my life to do a man's work, no, a God work.  Your existence is a force to be reckoned with.  Ender, you are one of my sins most formidable opponents. 

"Like arrows in the hand of a warrior,
So are the children of one's youth.
Happy is the man who has his
quiver full of them;
They shall not be ashamed
But shall speak with their enemies in the gate"

Fours years its been unpacking this verse.  It perplexes me, but you help me understand.  Even in the womb, the sin in my heart knew it would no longer have it easy.   A baby was coming, coming to clear the house of filth.  You aren't leaving one stone unturned, kiddo.  Its hard on me, its good for me.  I love you.

You talk about taking me to the moon one day after you go to astronaut school.  You talk about being a good and strong daddy like the one you know.  You talk about one day being 40 years old. 
I too think of all the things I want for you.... love, health, money, education, friends, security... but, you guide me with an upturned face and I see what I want, what I really want.

"I bow my knees to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ from who the whole family in heaven and earth is named, that He would grant you, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with might through His Spirit in the inner man, that Christ may dwell in your heart through faith, that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the width and length and depth and height-
to know the love of Christ which passes knowledge; that you  may be filled with all the fullness of God.
Now to Him is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us, 
To HIM be glory in the church by Christ Jesus through out all ages, world without end. 
Amen"
 

Zander used to complain that my "love letters" to him were not love letters at all, but just flowery felicitation on the most recent landscape I was swooning over.  To me, though, nature, especially trees, are my love language.
As a kid I was lucky enough to land in an outdoorsys Girl Scouts troop.  We tramped all over Arizona and it was out there that I felt a spirit.  I thought it was the ghosts of the people who dwelled there before us, or an actual spirit of a tree or if I put out the right vibe I could communicate with the animals (I think thats just Disney's fault.  Cruel world).  I was a tad off, but I was determined that I would connect to this spirit.  I tried all sorts of magic to get the wild to reveal itself to me.  None of my tactics worked.  Hmpf. But I still felt something out there.  Turns out, its Jesus.  It was Him all along breathing life, wonder and mystery into the earth.  The answer to my searching has only fueled my love for trees.

Meet Takashi Kobayashi & his buddy Pete Nelson.   My kindred spirits.

 Petefeatured Taka on one of his Treehouse Master episodes.  I cried as these guys wrapped themselves in a hug around a tree branch and bonded by feeling the tree sway in the breeze.  haha.  There are other grown ups out there like me, but way cooler.  They giggled and squealed and are some of the cutest people on the planet to me.  Pure darlings. 

I saw Gunther affirm is devotion to the little cretin, Cora.  Ender accidentally pushed Cora down while swinging.  Knocked off balance and irritated she cried.  I asked Ender to apologize and help her up. He went to attempt a rescue, but Gunther bounded in between Cora, gently pushing Ender away from her with his nose.  He kept it up until Ender backed away and Cora found her own footing once again.
We have always laughed at the idea that Gunther is partial to her, but I never really saw it until then.
Thats Cora, you know.  She is a natural at life and relationships.
I was too forced with Ender.  I tried too hard to create his world, but his world was already there for his taking. Cora has shown me that I'm simply her bubble encasing her  as we  float whichever way the Wind blows.
Her life is worry free.  Her personality charms the sox off me.  She exists to be loved.  In a sense she is someone I want to be.  I want to exist to be loved and let the rest of life fall in line behind.  Her laughter transports me to another place where Time is not bitter, but a sweet,endless sea.  And she just came into being without me reading any  baby education textbooks, websites, or well meaning advice.  I hardly even prayed over her when she was incubating inside of me.  I ignored the wild imagination of God.  I knew He was up to something, but I didn't have time to give a second thought towards it. 
Ender as the firstborn got the short end of the parenting stick.  He had to absorb all my undue worry.  All is not lost though :)  His sister has come with a message from God and I'm all ears.  Ender has already tasted the good freedom of his parents choosing Love first.  Its our mantra, our battle cry.  Right now Cora is safe in her innocence.  The easiness of Love will unfortunately wear off and she will have to join us in the fight.  But I have confidence in our Creator to carry her through it. 

in the bunker, one of her favorite places to observe ender's antics.  gunther will often sit by her here.

he will endure her sharp claws and her futile attempts at being gentle when petting his head.

The spring came suddenly, 

bursting upon the world as a child bursts into a room, 

with a laugh and a shout and hands full of flowers.

I'm usually given a handful of mud or soggy crackers from Cora.  She is such a little thumbtack.

 

Last year, our barren yard had only a few wild flowers, which are miniature snap dragons. Truly, a flower that grows rightly well at the home of our very own Ender the dragon Slayer/Tamer.  Zander convinced me to let the scraggly things go to seed.  So I bore the silly humiliation of having our gravel yard dotted with dead weedy things.  He handpicked all the unwanted weeds and helped along the wildflowers to spread their love. I wasn't a believer in reseeding.  It just seemed too magical and not bought beautifully grown already from Bakers Nursery. 

Zander and nature proved me wrong.  Our yard was full of wildflowers. Yeah yeah yeah, from a distance it still looked like an unkempt lawn, but given a closer look, rainbows would suddenly splash through crushed granite and brick.

 

Flowers that just spring up seem like the friendliest kind. 

 

  

 

My childhood Leslie would through a temper tantrum if she knew what her "grown up" self was doing: scaring and thus forever ruining the magical powers of her rocks.  Thankfully, I don't have to deal with that little brat and can do what I want!  Besides, I did extensive research on how to remove adhesive from porous rock.  My rocks, my precious and beautiful rocks.  My closet was filled with egg cartons of rocks, among other treasures.  I hid them away and pawed over them after school and on weekends.  Oh.  It just occurred to me.  I was kind of pathetic.  I thought everybody would oogle over them and be insanely jealous of my collection.  So I brought them to school to brag.  Apparently, third grade girls could care less.  Heck, even the boys weren't thrilled. 

Whatever.  I can't get over how beautiful they are and the stories they hold of childhood exploration days.  So, I dusted them off and glued them on some canvas and hung them on our wall.  I'm honest when I say, I get butterflies in my stomach whenever I walk past them. 

Among my trinkets and things was this gilded, and probably cheap elephant locket.  I begged the next door neighbor to release it to me.  At the time, it was the most exotic artifact I ever beheld.  He laughed and said "sure, its probably cursed anyway" 

 

I also have my coin collection, shells, keys, beads, little boxes, pins that really should have a chance to shine on the blog stage.   Stop cringing, I won't post them. 

Cora 9 Months

soulful

personality

 

"The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.”
― W.B. Yeats

 

Cora is my life coach.  She is an expert in seeing and being.  She is teaching me everything she knows and I am slowly beginning to absorb.  The world will want to devour her as she gets older.  It will gnaw at her heart and soul.  When she begins to face that part of her journey, then it will be my turn to remind her of all the beautiful truths she gurgled, cried, and squealed into my life. 

 

She also reminds me to rejoice over Ender.  He can be, oh.... I'd say a tad frustrating.  But Cora, you merely mention his name and her eyes pop wide open and she searches the room for him.  She hears him and she starts to get antsy in my arms.  She sees him and its all over.   A little firework explodes from within and she can hardly contain her excitement as he makes his way toward her.  She most especially loves it when he chases us around the house, roaring like a dinosaur.  

 

His eyes were two blue Ferris wheels lit up by the magic of the night.   He kept asking when we would go for a ride on the Ferris wheel.  We wouldn't.  He was too young and too short.  But I've should have known.  Ender's was really into circles as a baby.  I have no idea why.  Now, the most giant circle he has ever seen moving like a ship's wheel (well a ship sailing in circles) blinking and dancing in the night air was right before him.  His chance had come to become the circle.  

Ok ok ok, it was me who was heartbroken he couldn't ride.  Ender was happy with his fried hotdog, the stinky goats and a baby roller coaster that he measured up to exactly.  37 inches of pride! 

"once upon a time there was a boy named....

"Ender!"  He exclaims,  filling the silence with the "best" name for the adventure at hand.

This is how most of the stories we tell him begin.  We.  We are the daddy, the mama, the aunts, the uncles, the grandparents, the anyones who will take the time to tickle his ears with a good o'l fashion homespun tale.

"Now ender was a brave boy.  But he didn't travel alone.  He had a company of some fellow fearsome knights.  They were.....

Excitedly he names all of his cousins and Niko, a dear friend, who obviously falls into the cousin category.  There is no difference to Ender.

From there, the brave comrades equip themselves with their swords, helmets, horses, flashlights and snacks for a perilous journey.

They specialize in fighting dragons.  Oh and befriending them too, because some dragons are good; they are just shy and misunderstood.

Along their travels they encounter many mishaps that require sharing and taking turns.  From, there is not enough juice boxes to go around the campfire to being afraid of the dark., the trusty toddlers brave through it all.

The plot thickens with baby sisters captured and taken hostage in the lair of the dragon.  A few sword swipes here and there and the dragon is dead and all of them can return home to their mommies.

Phew!  All in a days work.

he's only almost three

Where did I get it in my head that you needed to behave like an adult?  And what is an adult anyway?  You scream at the tippy top of your tiny boy lungs and I can yell right back or point my finger like I believe it has wizard powers, or throw my hands in the air and neglect what could be a perfectly normal healthy interaction with a tantrum throwing two year old. 

Its because you confuse me kiddo.  You are so smart.  The concepts you get blow my mind.  Your vocabulary helps my mama mind not turn to mush.  You are so happy and funny and helpful and on point.  You love to sit quietly and read or dig in the dirt or build boats with your tools.  I think "here is my little man"  I will treat him like one.

But you're not a man, not yet.  So when you struggle to be the bright loving boy you are in this sinful flesh, I have little patience and high expectations.  I'm so sorry.  You are only almost three and I need to respect that.  God's grace goes beyond sufficiency to carry us both through the day.  Its are bread and butter to our relationship.  Thank you for showing me this. 

here you are looking too much like your Papa Toth.  its unnerving.  :)

A couple of weeks ago a monsoon paid a visit to our little home in the city.  I sat outside as long as I could.  Unlike last year, you were very brave and giddy to be out there.  You crawled all over me like a spunky spider.

Ender: "Mama.  I see a star"
Me:"You do?  All I see are clouds and lightning."
Ender:"I make a star"
Me:"How do you make a star Ender?"

He points to our neighbor's porch light.

Ender: "I squint my eyes like this.  See mama?"

He puts his scrunched up eye right up to mine.

Ender: "You do it"
Me: "Oh I see" 

I too squint my eyes while looking at the porch light.  And sure enough, the bulb fractures into a halo of light beams.  And a star is made.  Our storm star. 

 If you build it they will come"  Which is actually a misquote from Field of Dreams staring Kevin Costner (1989), so I'm told.  Rather, its "if you build it, he will come"  It makes no difference to me, he/she/they are all my fairies, wrens, butterflies, beetles, ladybugs coming to take up residency in our garden. 
I made a fairy garden for my 4 year old niece.  One night, I couldn't sleep because my mind was obsessed with thinking about all the miniature fairy furniture I could make.
Just googling "fairy houses" makes my heart skip a beat.  We are created in God's image.  A God who made our dwellings,  trees to climb, brooks to wade in, glades to meander through, caves to explore.... We love to create our own worlds too, just like our God.  Dollhouses.  Mr. Rodgers Neighborhood.  Narnia.  Lord of the Rings.  Its obvious, isn't it?
When I was little it was all about my snail beaches and going with my mom to the nurseries to talk to the gnome and fairy statues. 

Cora.  One morning when you wake up with the green canopy of Junipine over your head you will wonder about the little muddy footprints found on your pillow.   Your wondering will lead to your wandering, through blackberry bushes, past apples orchards, across babbling waters and with the curiosity of a child you will find a small door tucked into the roots of a very large sycamore.  Your eyes will open wide as the full moon as you realize what you just found. 

Our first friend has been a spunky little wren twittering around in our climbing fig.  Her quiet chirps are shouts of affirmation to zander's hard work in the backyard.  She has come to inspect and approves.  Our plot of beautiful land marred and sealed off by concrete is being rehabilitated and is slowly on the mend.  Zander is a determined.
My brain is bathed in images of polished homes and yards via the internet and magazines.  I grew up in a generation and am growing old in a generation with no patience and instant gratification.  This house is slowly healing my diseased mindset.

Safety First!

 

I couldn't resist this sequence of pictures.  Old man ender.  Even thought its blistering hot outside, at the end of the day zander works in the yard and I force ender out there with him.  This kid has dropped his nap.  He will sleep, perhaps, once a week for a solid 3 hours, like the good o'l days.  So, unapologetically, I'm eager to kick his tush out the door and put him to "work".   

Meanwhile, our most precious of all slugs rocks gently in the hammock.  Who is she?  Zander describes her as an essence, a presence, a spirit child.   She 14.6 pounds of a spring breeze.  Was her labor and birth an illusion?  A ploy the heavenly hosts used to sneak her in among the humans? Perhaps.  The fact that her farts really really stink, that she smells like cheese and that she sports a goopy left eye is all a disguise, I'm sure of it.  Zander & I are so blessed to be hosting a baby angel in our home. 

*Now, no one snicker or roll their eyes at us when she throws her first temper tantrum and refuses to eat the goodness on her dinner plate or bites her brother... we're enjoying our moment :)

Nana's Garden- Nana's iphone

Ender is beginning to initiate photo shoots.  He sits still long enough for a steady snap, then he zips it  to the camera to get a load of the cute guy in the picture.  

Here Ender sits next to his cousins "Colt & Isla".  Mama has many creatures and magical children hiding in her garden.  And so did her mama, Bobbye Jean.  Bobbye Jean who used to live in a yellow house.  I would go there in the summers and talk secretively with all of the enchanted stone statues.  

I intend to create my own haven for my family.  All magical critters welcome!