Love is such a difficult thing to describe; it is impossible to quantify. Rondel and Limerick have been attempting to articulate how much they appreciate or enjoy something by telling me they love it “even more” than they love something very special to them, including people (so one would say he loved Grandma more than Mommy, and the other one would state the opposite, or they would say they loved a new type of popsicle even more than swimming). They have also asked me a few times who I loved the most – talk about a question with no right answer!
What I’ve been explaining to them, and how I answered their question, was that I love all of them in different ways, because they are different people and our relationships are likewise different. I love them all just the same amount, but it looks different; in a sense, my love for each of them is a different color, but each color blazes with the same intensity, beauty, and brightness.
If they asked me which color represented my love for each of them, this is how I would respond…
Watching my children play, I am reminded of the wonder and beauty of small and simple things. There is enough joy in a glass of milk to send a three year old dancing around the kitchen; there is enough beauty in a well-done coloring page to keep a distractible, active four year old still and entranced watching it happen; there is enough passion in a stuffed animal to occupy the full attention and imagination of the one year old who walk around snuggling and protecting it. Continue reading “wonder”→
When we moved into our new house last summer, the home had been mostly fixed up (aside from a few plumbing issues that surfaced in our first month living here… old pipes) but the yards were completely flat dirt. Horrible dusty barren dirt, too, filled with trash; even the Bermuda grass could only survive in a few patches.
We’ve been slowly trying to make the space both aesthetically pleasing and functional, so towards that end we got twenty tons of pea gravel delivered one weekend, to fill in a play area in the back yard.
We had some frustrations, today, as we went about our normal adventures.
Someone was upset to the point of tears because the cars in the lane next to us were moving and we weren’t and this child didn’t understand why (they had a left turn arrow…).
Someone broke down because their brother finished the bag of goldfish, even though they’d been able to eat an equal amount.
Someone sobbed and wailed in the grocery store because they were thirsty but didn’t want to drink from the water fountain.
Someone screamed and threatened because their brother put in the puzzle piece they wanted to do (make that two someones…)
Someone ran across the playground hiding their face in their hands because I wouldn’t let them push another kid off of the equipment they wanted to use.
Honestly, most of these moments involved fairly trivial triggers, at least from my perspective. It’s been a long time since forgetting a cup for my water and having to use a fountain instead brought me to tears… But for my children, these “little” things have a big impact. Something in their world isn’t functioning the way they expect or want it to, and it throws everything off kilter emotionally.
And when it does, I have the incredible privilege of being able to support and comfort them without being pulled underwater by my own equally strong emotions, since the things that bother them no longer affect me in that way. I can be the pillar of strength and the promise of unconditional love in those moments when they are falling apart, using those struggles as an opportunity to connect with them and deepen our relationship, instead of mocking or shaming them for “overreacting” to something so small. All I have to do is remember how vastly different their perspective is from mine, how much less experience they have to understand the world around them, and how little control and independence they have in their lives, and respond to them accordingly.
The boys – especially Rondel – have been deeply interested in dinosaurs for quite a long time now, and are beginning to branch out into animals of all types. It really began with the Planet Earth documentaries that I would put on for them during Aubade’s nap times, and has continued with a short series called Africa’s Deadliest that is just as overly dramatic as the name suggests but which contains some great footage of wild animals as well as a lot of scientific facts. When we found and caught a lizard (well, rescued it from a bowl it had fallen into, to be more accurate) not too long ago, he was entranced: he understood intuitively how to hold it gently and carefully, and let it climb all over him with no fear, and ended up playing with it for 45 minutes before releasing it so it could return to its natural habitat.
So I was not surprised when he asked to go to the zoo this week, nor when he actually showed in interest in seeing the animals instead of just the dinosaur exhibit and the splash pad! And it was a good day to go!
We did of course have to visit the dinosaurs:
Obviously we couldn’t observe any live, wild, natural animal life here – but we had some discussions about the different types of nests made by different dinosaurs (we compared the twig nest of the Citipati – a feathered broody dinosaur – to that of the Diabloceratops, which was too large to brood its eggs and most likely made a mud nest like a crocodile), as well as about how the different types of dinosaurs might react if they saw us!
From the dinosaur trail the bighorn sheep exhibit is also visible, and Aubade got very excited when I pointed them out and told the kids what they were. She leaned forward in the stroller as far as she could, waving and yelling, “Hi!” – and then she turned to me, smiled, and matter-of-factly said, “Baa!” It was neat seeing her make the connection between the distant animal on the mountainside and the fuzzy white blob in her Moo, Baa, La La La board book by Sandra Boynton.
When we left the dinosaur trail, it seemed like a lot of the animals were active and awake – we got to see baboon, mandrills, oryx, cheetah (unfortunately they were difficult to see, but we did manage to spot them), otters, flamingos, zebras, and more! The flamingos were standing right by the fence, so we stood on one leg like they did, and noticed how they could turn their heads all the way around backwards to use their back like a pillow, and wondered why their large beaks only ever opened a very small amount.
Per Rondel’s request, after a cool-down break at the splash pad we visited the Tropical Birds trail, which includes a small aviary. Apparently, it is mating season at the zoo – so all the birds were awake and showing off their finery! The male peacock had his full tail fan extended, and kept shaking it at the peahen, making a surprisingly loud rattling noise when he did so. In the aviary, the male argus pheasant was strutting around on the path, making a call that the zoo keeper told us he only made during this season, instead of hiding in the back corners as he tends to do the rest of the year.
Rondel was absolutely captivated. He approached the bird slowly and quietly, and held his hands tightly back so he wouldn’t accidentally touch it (he would jump out of the way if the bird turned around so that he wouldn’t end up touching his long tail feather!), and just squatted down gazing at him for a long time, as other groups of people came and went.
Limerick was a little less certain, but he eventually went over as well. I was super proud of both of them – they are often very impulsive and active kids, and they had no trouble at all adjusting their behavior to what was needed by the animals. We talked a bit here about how a lot of viruses can jump between birds and people, so if we touched the birds we could get them sick or they could get us sick… my molecular biology background always ends up showing itself somehow 🙂
We finished up with the tiger and the Komodo dragon. I had never actually seen the Komodo dragon exhibit at our zoo, but Rondel instantly remembered them from the new Planet Earth series and was incredibly excited about them. They weren’t moving much – just soaking in the sun – but they are impressive creatures. We noticed how it was basking in the sun to soak up the energy it needs as a cold-blooded animal, and counted its claws (five on each foot, just like us, in case you wondered).
And of course we played on the Komodo dragon statue for a while!
This is what I get when I tell the kids to smile at me… I guess Rondel is somewhat close?Playing together – I think they are subduing the Komodo dragon so it can’t fight them.
The most wonderful thing about homeschooling is the ability we have to follow our interests – obviously in going to the zoo for a whole morning instead of adhering to a lesson plan or a class schedule, but also in deciding when to linger at an exhibit and when to move on, when to talk about the details of how an animal lives and when to stick to the basic overview, when to focus on the live animal exhibits and when to simply just have fun. The experience we had today was so real and so rich that I wouldn’t trade it for any classroom I’ve ever known.
My daughter is an incredibly expressive little girl, despite still being pre-verbal! She can communicate so much with just a gesture, a turn of her head, or a change of expression.
When she sees the bag of frozen blueberries she starts breathing very rapidly, bouncing up and down, and sometimes flapping her hands by her face; when I give her a bowl of them, she chuckles in joyous anticipation.
When I ask her if she wants to pick clothes to get dressed, her eyes get wide and she runs to the bedroom. If I try to direct her choices, she will throw the outfits I’ve picked to the side and insist that I put on the clothes she’s chosen, laying herself down on the floor and lifting her feet to go inside the pants she wants.
When I tell her “no more” and she knows there’s no room for negotiation, she flings her hands down to her sides, whirls around away from me, and marches off as quickly as she can, her whole face contorted and red.
She smiles readily and protests equally readily, knowing that her voice will be listened to even when she doesn’t have the words to tell us what she wants and needs.
And when she plays, her face lights up our whole home.
Image description: grid with four pictures of a blond baby playing in a kiddie pool, with various expressions of focus, silliness, and happiness.
Winter is one of the best times of year for hiking here in the desert! The skies are deep and clear, the air is cool and crisp, and the plants are somewhat green (depending on rainfall… spring will be better for plant life if the flowers bloom, though).
When climbing a mountain, it is always logical to become animals more suited for the task; the boys decided to be ibex and spent a large portion of the trek on all fours:
They also spent time as mountain lions, and we discussed what the city would do if a large predator such as a mountain lion or a bear were actually living on a mountain so closely surrounded by homes (probably – hopefully! – relocation. Rondel seemed to think it would be more exciting to have it stay on the mountain and randomly pop out to eat people.)
Aubade mostly stayed in the backpack, bopping my head and laughing, because she walks quite slowly still, but she did get down a few times to stretch her legs and enjoy the desert firsthand:
The most wonderful thing about a hike is that simply being outside, in the wild, is so freeing and refreshing an experience that even a complete meltdown for the entire return leg of the trip isn’t enough to prevent the boys from wanting to go again! Rondel keeps asking me when we can climb another mountain… I just think, hmm, I need to rebuild my emotional reserves here, that was rather exhausting for me. I am so glad that it didn’t give him a bad taste for hiking in general, though. I will just need to be more aware of his limitations as he often fails to notice his own fatigue until he is at the point of emotional and physical collapse (it’s a sensory processing thing – difficulty with interoception).
And it was a great reminder for me of why I have always loved hiking! There is something unbeatable about the path dropping away behind you and the sky stretching out wide above you and the mountain rising up before you and the wind lifting your wings as you walk over the dusty and rugged desert miles. They say exercise is good treatment for depression but really I believe that outdoor exercise is key – it is for me, at any rate 🙂
(If you’re wondering, we hiked part of Telegraph Pass Trail on South Mountain! The first part is paved which makes for an easy start and, more importantly, an easy finish for tired little feet. If you have more stamina than my boys did, you can make it all the way up to the top of the mountain where the signal towers are!)
In the in-between week from Christmas to New Year’s, a baby girl was born, and now we have one more reason to celebrate every holiday season!
And while the flu may have meant that we didn’t get any first Christmas pictures for Aubade, I did make sure to have the camera on hand on her first birthday.
I know I’m biased, but I think she’s pretty much a perfect baby ❤
Aubade, I love your zest for life, your self-assurance, and your sweet affectionate gestures. I love the exuberance with which you dance when I sing, and the excitement with which you run to the shower when you hear the water turn on. I love when you sit next to me on the floor, each of us doing our own things but happy to be together, and I love when you sit on top of me, knock me over, and bounce on my belly while laughing uproariously! I love when you bring me books to read, and I love how you get so enthusiastic about turning the pages that you won’t even give me time to say the words first. I love how even though you don’t say any words yet, you still communicate exactly what you’re feeling, thinking, and wanting.
You crawled over rocks to get to this wheelbarrow, because you saw Rondel playing by it and wanted to know for yourself what was inside. You were uncomfortable, but you didn’t cry. You were too short to reach in easily, but you didn’t ask for help. And so you found the satisfaction both of accomplishing your goal and answering your curiosity!
I am so excited to get to watch you continue to grow and blossom, my daughter. Whatever life holds for you, your strength, tenacity and joy will serve you well.
We started out with postpartum depression and RSV; we’re ending with all three kids sick with the flu! (Well, to be more accurate, they were sick over Christmas and are mostly better now.) In between we fit more into one year than I would have thought possible, with therapies, medications, travel, moving into a new home, dipping our toes into the world of special needs education, and beginning a new round of transitions with my husband graduating and finding a job (which will start shortly after the New Year).
And I have learned so much this year, including about things that I thought I already understood but was able to look at from personal experience or through the new and edifying perspective of someone else’s experience or research. I acknowledged my anxiety as an obstacle in my path rather than a personal failing, thereby removing the associated guilt and shame and allowing myself to move forward; I began to make space for myself and the people I love to be different, express their differences, and be loved for who they are with those differences; I learned when to stand up for myself and when to disengage, and that both are ok given the circumstances as well as my own mental state; and I found the courage to make uncommon decisions for uncommon reasons without becoming defensive or belittling the choices I turned down. At least, those are the seeds of change that are beginning to germinate within me as a result of this year – I think I could spend a lifetime watching them grow!
This was also a year of good reading. What began as a way to cope with my depression when almost nothing else could distract my mind from the darkness turned into a re-ignition of my lifelong compulsive love of books and a chance to discover new characters, adventures, worlds, and authors. For the first time since childhood I kept a book log for myself, which was a massively encouraging endeavor in and of itself, and managed to read and record 84 previously-unread-by-me books since I started tracking mid-January! I think the books deserve their own post so I will say no more here – but it was a major part of my year and a consistent source of pleasure and refreshment as well as an escape from my own head.
And of course this was the year of Aubade, since she just barely made an appearance in 2016 but has by now infiltrated herself into every thread of the warp and weave of our lives. Through her, the boys have gained independence and learned compassion and gentleness. She has stolen our sleep but given us laughter. She is a confident baby princess, secure in her belief that whatever she wants, she should have, and she will get it for herself if no one will get it for her! She is a fearless baby explorer, certain that she can do whatever she sets her mind to do, and that around every corner (or behind every door, or on top of every high place) there is something new and exciting to discover. She is a bestower of hugs and a jealous claimant to her mommy’s lap. She is a passionate lover of showers (or pools, or baths, or splash pads), peek-a-boo, mud on her fingers, the thrill of the climb, the loudness of blenders and vacuums, snuggles with the people she loves, and singing or playing music. I can hardly believe she has only been in our lives for a year, because life without her would seem so empty.
Overall, it was a year of crashing lows, dark valleys to endure, and steep mountains to climb (my saint for the year was St. Jude, patron of hopeless causes, and it certainly seemed fitting when I was in the depths of the depression) – but it was also a year of soaring highs, transcendent mountain views, and glorious sunrises. A more stable and mundane year would certainly have been easier, but I am thankful for the things that happened and the way they shaped the person I am now. And now, let the adventures of 2018 begin!
As babies and toddlers, neither of my boys especially enjoyed being dirty and playing in the mud. I still remember the first time Rondel explored the soil in our garden of his own accord, and the poignancy of watching him touch the moist dirt without panic or revulsion (he was better with sand, but dirt was difficult, and mud impossible for a long time). Limerick would tolerate and investigate things, but never sought out the sensations, preferring to watch and observe; there wasn’t the overt sense of something being off or abnormal that there had been with Rondel, but there also wasn’t the “typical” childhood pleasure of immersing oneself in those physical sensations that I remembered from my own experiences.
Aubade, however, actively seeks out the dirt, and very visibly relishes getting wet, dirty, and muddy. While this of course comes with its own challenges (any ideas for persuading a baby not to shovel fistfuls of dirt in her mouth whenever the opportunity arises?), it is so incredibly refreshing for me to have a baby who initiates that kind of interaction with her environment. She is so bent on exploring and experiencing the world around her, with no hesitations, anxieties, or sensory discomforts to hold her back, and I love watching her!
little thoughts 