Pink Coyote

"Every time that I think

"Every time that I think of you
I smile for a while
That's the one thing you always do
You always smile, smile, smile."
--Dan Zanes

More Moments

photo d. marshall, 2006.

"Dwelling in the present moment.

I know it is a wonderful moment.

-Thich Nhat Hanh

House of Rody

One of Miles gifts this year is Rody, a low and bouncy horse-like guy who is something like the beginner's version of the old fave, Hippity Hop (Here is something comparable because I couldn't find a freaking hippity hop anywhere!!). It is a great size for him, all of 15 months old and a bit short in the leg department, but the package shows kids who are quite lanky and looking to be about 2-3 years. M's dismount is a bit rough but getting better already. He loves to grab the ears and bounce around like a madman, squealing and shrieking to my ears' delight. Rody is going to be great indoor play since outside is now cloudy and freezing ass cold!

Crumby Cmas

These were snapped cmas morning before we got started on prezzies. Miles has just fed himself a muffin in front of the cozy fire. This look is hysterical, we burst out laughing when it loaded in-all crumby and quizzical.

Cmas was fun and low key, just what we wanted around here. A few, thoughtful presents, dinner with twentyish great friends, a tired boy ready for sleep at evening's end.

Lovely as lovely can be.

Let the Holiday Madness Begin

MLC swings "crazy crayons" over candy colored paper from this magnificent duo. MLC and his buddy, Uncle Rob.

In no time at all, the holiday has fallen upon us like a great, abominable himalayan yeti who tosses us from one friend's home to another-as we drive, laugh and imbibe our share of cheer. Presents have been raining down in our house, replacing tired toys and activities. Excited squeals and questioning oohs fill our ears.

Before we know it, the New Year will be here and all will seem fresh and ready for creating.

Happy Holidays to you all!

Remote Perspective

I've talked with friends quite a bit in the past year about keeping up in the bloggie world. Some complaints are that posting takes too much time, others wonder if there is anything unique to express in this medium anymore, others still have discovered major issues related to values rising up within them. The question seems to be, Is Blogging Really Worth My Energy and Time?

What we get out of blogging is likely to be what keeps us tapping away nights, spilling the beans on ourselves, sharing our favorites lists and posting encouraging comments on our buddies' sites.

One aspect of blogging that stands the curious hairs up on my neck is how we perceive other bloggers.

When I'm really enjoying someone's writings, I think it is because I'm appreciating them, but also, it is because they are mirroring something in me that I like-and perhaps want to experience or emphasize more in myself. Maybe this is where the notion of a support community comes from. We all like to be acknowledged that we are not alone. We comment to lift one another, and this feels so good. I think which blogs we tune into say volumes about who we are, perhaps more than about the blogger herself. Hmm.

Pink Coyote is not always fun, uplifting or inspiring. I do not often have artsy events to send you to or crafty people to introduce you to. I'm not very cool. I don't know very much about new, good books and movies. I'll bet it can even be a bit of a downer to come here sometimes. I use my blog to work through my junk, get your feedback, problem solve my life, and share the joy of my son with the world. I seldom prepare my writings ahead of time, editing myself and trying to get it perfect. This blog is usually about process, not content or results.

This is so because I am who I am. I do try to be fearless here, which could be perceived as reckless or unsympathetic, I suppose. I am certain about many things, which could come off as arrogant or pushy. I am self-reflective, which could be read as narcissistic and obsessive. I've got a furry bee in my bonnet about having clean fights and relationships with loved ones. This is because I am somewhat new to the idea. The material here will resonate with you or it will not.

I'm going to list a few things below that I think you need to know about me in order to decide if you will keep coming here. I don't want to mislead anyone (else)!

*I think you will like to come here if you like to look at your own shit. If you don't, you probably won't have much fun here, because I'm always pointing my shit and your shit out. If you want to change your ingrained ways of thinking and acting, especially to avoid damaging your kids (and mates)-we're going to get along great. If one wants flowery smoke blown up one's ass about how old dogs can't learn new tricks, one might want to find another blog to visit. ( I say that with a great and floral love).

*I think you will enjoy this blog if you make an effort to put your children's needs ahead of your own. We are on the same page if you sold your expensive house to have a baby and take some time off (not three months, but like, several years) and enjoy this time you'll never get back.

*If you are a single parent and you like what I have to say, but have to work, there is lots to talk about, but that isn't always clear on this blog. Let's talk about alternatives to daycare , a bonfire topic in my heart.

*I'm no expert. But I have a lot of big opinions. I am also curious about other ways of thinking and doing stuff. I love dialogue and loathe lurking. Speak up! You are not going to hurt my feelings. Tell me if you think I'm full of it.

*I am not even close to a perfect mom, artist or person. Blogs sometimes can be illusive that way-I know I'm not bloody perfect, but you may not know or think that based on what I show and tell you. If you could see the hairy cheerios under my diswasher (oh yeah, my kid eats 'em), or know that I sometimes feel bored and antsy hanging out with a fourteen month old all the days of the week, you might think differently about me. Because I'm obsessive compulsive and it shows in my writing, you might never guess who keeps company with dustbunnies around here.

*We, as readers, do not know what state a blogger is in when she posts or comments. I think some of us write our blogs just after a meditation and a massage, when our chakras are happily spinning and all the world is in bloom. Or at least that is how some of us come off. I come here and write in order to find grace and clarity. Readers have no idea what it took for me to get to that pretty place.

*If one likes things stated in a politically correct way, this will not be one's favorite stop. I know it isn't cool to say moms should stay home and be a baby's first, best and most interested teacher. But this is what I think parenthood should look like, with very few exceptions. This may alienate many readers, as one woman pointed out in my last post. I can live with this. I truly mean no harm to anyone's ego. I don't think a reader will like to hear what I have to say anyway if she has no intention of looking at the possible repercussions of handing her job over to someone else.

*Sometimes I post while I am in a big, nasty shadow. I know others who do this, too. I think that if we can assume anything about a blogger, it is that she has good days and bad. She has graceful days and slippy banana-peel days. Assuming a blogger shares your values is a dangerous enterprise, investing yourself emotionally in that assumption is unwise, methinks. Yikes. I personally, am in a radical healing process righty right now. That is bound to come through here looking good, bad and ugly.

Some of you remind me of and validate what I stand for. Some of you give me a buzzy, inspired feeling because you are spectacular poets and crafters. Some of you blow flowery smoke my way. Some of you are working that deep pain, turning it over and over, bravely showing up each day for it, and I greatly admire the underbelly shares. Until you are emptied and complete, I will be your witness. Here is a good place to thank you for being my mirror and witness, and sharing the nougaty centers of you.

I use this blog to help me look at the unsettling ephemera I see within me and around me. I believe deep within that only goldmining produces gold. A genuinely blessed life seldom falls from the sky. Sifting through rubble takes a hell of a lot more courage than avoiding it; I think cultivating this particular brand of courage can set a person up for feeling whole. I don't really give a rats about looking pretty while I do it.

Call

"In our rush to feminism and fair play for women (which I, myself, still advocate) and financial solvency, the critical role of mothering has been relegated, and children are now raised by rotating caregivers rather than mothers and fathers. It’s against our design, and it doesn’t work. Our children are becoming insecurely attached and unattached en masse, which has dire consequences on their forming personality. I wonder if all the politically chauvinistic and patriotic Americans would pay attention if they understood that daycare is undermining our advantage. Our citizens are becoming less than mediocre on average. That will be our legacy." Dr. Faye Snyder, PsyD, Founder of the Causal Theory.

(Post Script: I am getting some passionate feedback about this quote. I think it is being received as rather politically incorrect, and understandably so. Dr. Faye's voice can be a bit harsh sounding, but I don't mind. I would rather be on red-alert about dangers to children than just hope they'll turn out okay. She doesn't pussyfoot around like some parent-protecting therapists and I love her for that. She's all about the kids, as it should be. Join in with your two cents! This is the most fun I've had in months.)

Catching the Moon

This is Miles with his hand in the dog food bowl. He heads over that way each morning before I have a chance to pick it up and move it into the canine garage-lounge. This morning he was so into it that I just let him play in the bowl until he tired of it. His sleeper was covered in kibble dust in the end.

I tried uploading the picture with his hand moving toward his mouth, but it won't load up. You can bet he did [that] a few times, at least....

He's been cranky all day, leaving me feeling like I want to throw myself off the Lake of the Woods bridge a few times. Won't eat, won't nap. Just cries and reaches for me all day long.

He is out for a walk with Daddy now and I miss him like crazy.

Went shopping at the local nursery today and found some yummy gifts to round out my holiday givins. Had to stuff my pockets full of cheerios to keep you-know-who decent inside the nursery building. On the drive home, we listened to one of his favorite cds and he bounced along happily. Short lived, but I was glad to have a few happy minutes in the car. It has a great version of Dylan's New Morning on it.

Hoarding Moments

Two Monkeys: Miles and Hank. Notice that Hank has a yogurt lid in his mouth. Fetching matters most, above all. Tonite I was uploading some new pictures, mostly of Miles. When I photograph him, I take 40-80 shots at a time, knowing that most will not be keepers.

When I look at them full size, even if they are no good, I can hardly bear to delete them. I have this thing about moments-I hoard them. Deleting even a poor picture is something like a sin, because it showcases a moment and if I delete it, I am deleting the evidence that it happened forever...
Totally O.C., I know.

I try to keep only the best or most useful things in my life, but I struggle with letting go. I feel a sense of loss, then grief, when I lose details about something or someone I loved or cherished.

For me, being an artist has meant creating within a moment. A specific energy is circulating, and I am capturing and documenting it when I write, paint or sculpt. Evidence that I am able to harness and color moments makes me feel grateful. I have a strong ethic of gratitude, not always a bad thing, unless you're me.

Not writing, not taking pictures, or not documenting my life is decidedly ungrateful, unappreciative, not drinking in the moment, not recording the magic, living WRONG.

I have kept dozens of journals in my adult life. When I read them, I can see who I am clearly. I can see that I am a good person, the same person, on my path. Apparently, I forget a lot.

Creating and documenting reminds and shows me that I deserve to be living. That I have earned it. My lovely creations prove that, right? I am worthy? (Wounded underbelly exposed).

This entry is dedicated to Monica Mardou who believes that everyone but she has it all figured out.

Winter Sparks

The winter can be so very dry here, which means static electricity zaps the daylights out of us regularly. Miles hair has just been rubbed all over the microfiber couch, which cracked me up as it stood waving in the air above his head. Our hands are so dry and raw, but this has helped. Doing dishes and felting are not helping matters, plus I grated my thumb something awful making zest for an orange yogurt cake. A right mess over here.

We decorated our little tree last night and contemplated what the holiday means to us. Neither B nor I are religious, so the intended message of Christmas doesn't apply in our household. However, it's as a good time as any to create a ceremony of giving and receiving to say thank you and I love you to those people we adore.

I love the ritual of making gifts and wrapping packages, writing dear friends names and addresses on the envelopes. I love making the lists. I love the ambient lights, spicy eggnog, cinnamony and evergreen smells and dressing up.
I love thinking about Miles under the tree on Christmas morning. What breakfast will we have? I would like to do the same thing every year. Crepes? Pancakes? Facon? Muffins?
How will we tell him about Santa or the Spirit of Santa?

I'm looking forward to knitting my boys up closely around me, getting cozy under a blanket together, and holding the moments for as long as I can.

Soon, the excitement of the new year and its fresh possibilities will take over. Until then, I plan to soak up this scrumptious holiday energy!

Crafting & Catching Up

I've not posted in too long! This week found me crafting up a storm to participate in a little local holiday street fair with some of my mountaingirl tribe, peddling our fused glass and felted wares. I had little time for anything else! Creating during the holidays is especially satisfying to me-making gifts for loved ones isn't something I make a point to do every year, so I'm really HAPPY to be doing it this year! Squishing the hot, soapy water into the smelly sheeps wool and listening to Christmas music-bliss, I tell you.

I want to point you to one of my favorite mamas on the web who interviewed me for her monthly "Mom to Mom" piece this month. Wendy has another post which demands attention from any readers who believe that the choice of co-sleeping should be left up to parents. There is a NY hospital detailed that makes its patients sign an agreement committing them not to co-sleep with their infants and toddlers. It is so disgustingly out of line for any establishment to refuse care to parents who choose to co-sleep. As if it is some kind of crime or secret guilty pleasure to sleep with one's baby! Egad. Please follow Wendy's link to voice your opinion on this matter. As much as I'd like to pretend my choices aren't often in danger, they are. Honestly, what is next?

If you love to laugh your ass off, listen to this. Oh my good heavens, I almost peed a million times. I had to listen twice. If you are a fan of The Office, go NOW.