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. 

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.....

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!

It is such a trivial thing.  I am foolish to obsess over it.  Fear of the future dims the lights and I can barely see my feet when I walk through this life.   If I can just find the answer to my question, I'd find the light switch and I'd quit chasing shadows.

Chalk it up to post partum, but I can't seem to shake the question "Should we have another biological child?"
"Who cares?!!"  I scream at my thoughts.  More softly, "Rest your mind, rest your heart on the amazing lifeforms that run around making a mess of my unfounded pride".

The other afternoon, Ender joined me on the bench swing in the backyard.


"Are we going to have another baby after Sam grows up?" he asks.

"Uh, I'm not sure.  Should we?"  (I'm losin it, asking family planning advice from a four year old)

"No, three is the rule"  He pipes.

"Oh really?  Who told you that?"

"Nobody.  Its just the rule."

"Well what if we had a fourth.  Then what?"

"I'd be happy"

"What about Three is the Rule?"

"Then Four would be the Rule"  he quips.  "THEN TWENTY ONE HUNDRED!"  (Thats his favorite number to yell)

Thank you my sweet boy, my little teacher with twiggy limbs and stinky breath. 

You're right.  Whatever we have, we have.  That is the "rule". 

Fathers Day - many many moons ago

This breaks my heart, but also gives wings to each broken piece.  I don't know how else to describe longing and joy.

Arica helped make this video for Zander a few years ago for Fathers Day.  I think the sound should work.  Hey Zander, let me know, okay?

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" 

It just comes with the Territory

A week before Sam was due, Ender contracted pink eye.  Lovely.  He was more than happy to share it with his sister.  If only they could share their toys and space so easily, we would have accomplished Miss America's dream of world peace within these walls.
Thankfully, it was plenty of time to medicate those angry eyeballs, so..... we could move on to the day of Sam's birth where Ender woke up with round two of pink eye, zander with flu like symptoms and me in early labor and a sore throat.  Stupendous.
Grandparents are the greatest.  I was worried no one would take our infested children so I could do the whole labor and delivery thing.  But, grandparents have guts and unconditional love.
With Ender and Cora gone,  I could focus on the contractions. By 11 that night we decided to head to the hospital for the heck of it, oh, and so zander could sleep.  He reasoned he already wanted to be there instead of me waking him up in the middle of the night because as it was he was not feeling well. 
We go through the annoying but I guess necessary steps it takes to get checked in through triage and eventually admitted to the hospital.  I get an epidural that works this time, have mercy!  so thats the heaven everyone is talking about!  The nurse seriously tucks Zander in for the night and he promptly passes out, leaving me to wonder.... was that my water that just broke? He misses a few scary moments of Sam seemingly disappearing, of needing oxygen, of being rotated this way and that, but I didn't mind a bit, not with an amazing nurse.  Nurses can be all you every need in life.
Around 6 am, I'm watching the planes land at Sky Harbor and its pretty much go time.  The doctor's and nurses scurry in and all that commotion wakes sleepy head in the corner.  Twenty mellow dramatic minutes later, we welcome Sammy boy into the blazing summer of this world.
Zander gets pink eye that night in the hospital.  I'm sick with swollen lymph nodes and my crotch hurts of course.  He takes medicine and is no good to me at that point.  Of course, Sam raises hell for me that night.  I've never been so tired before where I was hallucinating voices and getting a nice foot massage by a 1800s railroad worker.
You just got to keep going though.  We did and at the end of it all, and two weeks post partum, we rush Ender to the E.R. for a sudden attack of the croup.  But of course once again, I have to handle the situation because Zander has taken a sleeping aid.  Thankfully, those trusty grandparents I mentioned before come to the rescue. Zander's dad and Aunt Arica pick Zander up from home so he can switch with me at the hospital and I can be back at home with a hungry newborn.

I think things are settling down.  However, Zander's tendency for OCD -ism and neuroticism has been agitated and he's been fixating over the air flow and dust content in our house.
Because of that I have to open our vintage milk delivery door every time I run the dryer or bathroom vent, but I always forget.
In the middle of his air flow puzzle and the day after Ender's expensive ER visit,  he asks me to run the dryer.  I hit the ON button.  Ker-klump thump, clunk and maybe a snap crackle and pop was thrown in there too, but I'm not confident.   Then a dead dryer.  Aye caramba!  I'm thankful I married a problem solver.  I Just would have cursed the no good machine and bought a new one.  Zander gets to business.  I'm washing dishes as he's tinkering at the old clunker.   In helping him to diagnose the problem, I chime in "It sounded like a spoon getting caught in a garbage disposal"
"Um, well...come look and see then."
I go over to he machine and I see on the floor one of Cora's purple spoons on the floor.
"Huh, thats funny, "I think, "it doesn't seem chewed up.  In fact, its perfect"
"No, not there " he says "Look here"

As my realization comes into focus, my whole body tremors with disgust at the sight of a chewed up rat clogging the vent hole.  I proceed to surprise myself with a 5 minute long heebie jeebie dance paying tribute to all things putrid.   Dang!  Just when I was able to start eating spaghetti again.  Its taken me half a year to get over the first 45 minuets of the movie Seven.

And for as strong willed Ender is, he is equally tender hearted toward his little brother.

"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. 

I can hardly bend anymore these days to take a picture hobbit level.  Thankfully, the kiddies have beautiful blues that are used to looking up.

Thursday evening, the street lamps buzz with their orange glow, and we head down the street to the park for Ender's soccer game.   His excitement pulls and snaps him like a rubber band around the field with his buddies. .  Other boys and girls seemed to have grasped the concept of the general rules of the game and the taste of competition and victory.  But Ender has taken firm hold of happy oblivion. I've stopped cringing every time the ball rolls past his stop or he kicks it toward the other teams goal.  I smile now in admiration.  He is beaming with fun.Last year, he was fixated on how fast his left elbow cranked when he ran and holding a little blonds hand.  This year, he sits on the field line cone if he has to go the bathroom and is adamant about "holding it".  He's a pin ball pinging through an obstacle of friends feet. and is innocent of any self inflicting criticism.  Why must things change?  Could he just hand it over to me when his childhood is through with the delusion of of it?  Well, yes, I'd rather have him keep it, but I'd also like for him to share while he still has plenty of pious naivety.  If I believe hard enough, maybe I will shrink back down to ginormous living like Ender.

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. 

Kickin' Around

If anyone happens upon an extra pair of eye brows .... I know of two people who could benefit from your kindness.

A night, just like any other night, one would suppose.

The children nestled in bed.  the clock ticking the eleventh hour onward.

I check once in on them, whispering prayers over them and then retire to my own cozy quarters.

All is well. Gunther flops down on my circle rug.  He flops, but I look, and he is perfect puddle of fur.

Without warning Gunther dashes to Ender's room down the hall.  Zander follows after scolding him.  (Last time Gunther paid a visit to his room after hours proved to be a  stinky situation).  Zander immediately crates Gunther, but pauses in his actions.  He wonders.  He lets the dog out and Gunther goes right back to Ender's room and sits by his bed.  Zander looks down at Ender and notices his blanket is over his head.  He goes to remove it, but cannot so easily.  It is tightly wrapped once and half more around his face.  Zander unwinds the blanket from a sweaty, shallow breathing boy.

Maybe a sleeping four year old could have worked that blanket away from his face during the night, maybe not.  My stomach was churning at the thought.Whether it was a shadow that caught a pup's fancy, or a notion to defecate on an Ikea rug again, we believe Ender's pal and humble hero responded to a supernatural call from his Master that night.   Gunther is truly family, in his strengths and in his weaknesses bringing glory to our Maker. 

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"
 

Companion Planting

"Symbiotic relationships occur when separate life forms interact with each other and either one or both species benefit in some way." 

Like Artichoke and Tarragon.  Carrots and Dill.  Roses and Garlic!  

While it was still hotter than blue blazes, Zander suited up in either his handy dandy lady repellent over-alls, (or was it his thrifted, pastel plaid lady repellent golf shorts?)  and bent back over our freshly mulched garden bed.  The results of his sun baked toiling are growing with green vigor in lovely lanes of carrots, dill, kale and broccoli, in clumps of lemon balm, fever few, onion, thyme, stevia, echinacea, chamomile, and chives. 
Herbs and vegetables huddling together to ward of pests and promote utmost flavor.  


Like Cora and Ender. 

If I go in that direction, I definitely see Ender as more of the vegetable.  Hardy, healthy.  I see Cora as the herb.  Spicy and rather pungent:)  Seemingly two different species growing in harmony.  Even the pitfalls of sibling angst come to a good end, will come, I pray.  

Cora brightens his heart.   She's a stinker and her herbal aroma results in more laughter and lighter spirits.
Ender is her protector and shows her the ropes.  She follows him.  And he reports back to me when she is in danger or has broken a rule.  He takes pride in his role.  

Our garden grows with more color, variety and flavor than I can dare to believe.   
Last year, and a lot of this year, I've been weary of weeding, watering, willing those darn things to grow.   Waking up one morning, you look out your window and see the tiniest emerald blade jutting through the broken soil.  'Cora's innocent desire to be loved as she climbs to bone breaking heights, Ender's eyebrows pulling his blue eyes up to your's, revealing a mind that truly desires understanding & explanation of his world.  
I've realized looking at those two, there is more to them then sprouts in need of tending, but tiny tools themselves, used to do a work on my own plot.  

okay.  the garden analogy is getting old.  

Sunflowers are also an amazing companion flower.  Beacons of light guiding the bees and butterflies to a blooming bounty.

The night before the air was still, stagnant, humid and hot.  As the evening wore down to nothing but clear skies and a dry moon, I became desperate for the rain the meteorologists promised me.  They pinky swore and bet their life it would rain just for me.  I stamped my foot and resolved I would not let another night pass by without paying the toll.
So I poured myself a concoction of chai tea and had Zander turn on the sprinklers in the backyard.
Thanks to my wonderful patience and content spirit, our yard was saturated and full from a heavy drink, when we woke up the next morning with our house on the brink of flooding.
I even had the gall, in the middle of the night when the rolling thunder rolled me out of bed to casually look out the window and remark "eh, its not that great of a storm, i'd rather sleep".
huh.  Apparently its been called "a 100 year storm"

Zander of course, handled it with grace in galoshes. We needed to stop the seeping of the water.  We needed sandbags.  Well, what we had was a lot of mud and garbage bags. 
He begins to dig a hole somewhere below the flooded surface.  "How high is the water mama" Johnny Cash sings from his throat.  "Two feet high and risin" I answer with the rain steadily dripping off our backs. 

Zander never had an easier time digging a hole for a tree, lets just say.  Its been over a year trying to decide which one to plant in our backyard.  Now there is a beautiful bowl of mud waiting to be filled with a Chinese Elm's toes instead of Ender's and Cora's. 

Have you ever noticed the branches of the Chinese Elm?  They grow from the trunk like arms, stretching sinew and tendon.   Its elegant and intriguing.  The Arizona Sycamore, the Ghost Gum Eucalyptus, the Blue and Green Palos all have this uncanny quality.  Their branches bend and their bark wrinkles where it would on your own skin as you freely move.