Pink Coyote

Happy Earth Day!

While thinking long and lazily over Bombay Chai about what Miles and I could do to celebrate Earth Day this morning, we patchworked a quick mailbox together out of paper scraps, a shoebox and a brad.  The surfboard flag is in a shadow in the photo, but rather snazzy.  He loves LOVES getting mail and so I've been out sneaking little notes and cards in there so that when he checks it (every  ten minutes) there is a little surprise waiting for him. 

Back to Earth Day!  Earth Day is sort of every day for us, but one thing that we don't do that I'd like to is cruise our neighborhood and pick up paper and trash that gets blown around in the weekly blusters we seem to have here.  There is a blue Christmas bulb outside our gate stuck in a tumbleweed, for example that must have rolled over here a season ago that will be the first in my bag!

Most Alive Monday

My big boy went to his first airshow this weekend which thrilled him.  B's "Pap-Pap" used to take him to see World War II fighter planes when he was a little boy, so when he heard there would be a show near us, he had to go and see what Miles response would be.  M already loves trains, cars and anything that moves with wheels, -really, a total boy in that aspect.  Needless to say, he was all lit up and they sat in a copter and even a very old plane that had been flown to California rather precariously (it made many emergency landings on the way). 

Brandon and I have no positive feelings for war at all, so it is a bit of a paradox that we would take any joy in sharing war machines with our small son.  Perhaps it is the energy of the second World War and the immediate and urgent cause to stop Nazi Germany that makes it historically tolerable.  The stlyish and daring fighter pilots and the pride they took in their small, sometimes independently contracted planes have a nostalgic, artistic appeal to my husband.  I love the artwork associated with that era, too.

Raising a boy means walking the fine line of indulging his boyishness and imbuing him with the sense of respect for human and planetary life in the hopes that his generation will not be faced with atrocities that shut down the natural response to be gentle and kind.  One can wish.

We rather unconsciously juxtaposed the experience with the creation of a tiny house for brownies that Miles placed under the plum tree yesterday.  It was a full, easy weekend of wonder and family.

   

This post was inspired by my dear Wendy's Most Alive Monday project.

Rainy Day Tea Party

Full Swing

We're back in the swing of things in the den and enjoying the bursting creativity the new year always brings.  We're painting, sewing, cutting up paper, drawing and making a general mess of things.

I'm on quarterly retreat this weekend in the mountains and hope to bring back pictures of ecstatic skirts swirling and half-filled wine glasses.

Wishing you deep and honest self-expression today...

Reflect and Wish

 

As the sun sets on 2007, and this wild ride of a year draws to a close, I feel grateful.  What a tremendous year of abundance, healing, adventures and manifestations of dreams. 

This year Miles weaned, walked, ran, talked, grew through four shoe sizes, flew round trip three times, made his first painting, got a big boy bed, went to his first real movie in the theatre and ate popcorn, learned to swim (and well, I might add!), took his first trip to ER, and generally amazed us by growing sweeter than pie.  He went from being a baby to a big boy, something he'll be for many years before his next major transition.  We feel so blessed to be a part of his life.

My hope for the new year is that I relax more, stress less, get more done with less energy used, grow an amazing garden, and I also wish to consume less with much more consciousness.  My vision is to create, create, create and continue healing myself and others.  I would also like to find my people in this town!

Four babies will be born this year in my circle, and my hope for them and their mommies and daddies is that they arrive safely and happily-that the bonds created between them in this precious first year keep them going when parenting gets tough.

I want creative abundance for B and I, wonder and adventure for Miles, and healing for the planet and the hearts of people everywhere.  May your '08 promise fulfilled dreams and deep connections.

Happy New Year, bloggiespere, from the coyotes.  Aaahhhoooooooooo!

We Gather

Just a little conversation can begin a revolution.  Speaking from inside of ourselves or out loud with someone we know, we all have the seed lying in the center of our beings for love, transformation and growth.  When birthed into words, that which moves us from our centers can manifest into movement.

I love to gather.  I especially love to gather to honor women, and I leapt at the opportunity to assemble a small group of moms to initiate a dear friend into the mothership circle.  What began as a subtle, spoken yearning by Keri to be surrounded by "mama energy" before the birth of her son culminated in an amazing, whirlwind weekend of food, fall color, mommies and babes in Woodstock, NY.

I'm beginning to be at a loss for words, so visit Wendy who found a beautiful song that I think describes what happens when we gather perfectly.

What stands out for me most of all, is the mighty courage it takes for women to fly and drive great distances to support another woman in her rites of passage, and how this is a lost practice in our culture that is making a comeback.  It might be easy for someone to shy away from other women or artists for fear of being judged or thinking that they may not have much to bring or offer others.  Nevertheless, women are sitting on floors and couches, on the earth and on the chairs of their ancestors with each other, sharing stories, fears, and finding their voices.

We must all keep having the conversations, sending out the smoke signals for support when we need it, asking for what we want, listening for the drumbeat, and answering the call to quest.

Here's to four amazing mothers, two curious boys, one brilliantly growing seed, and two that are being dreamed of today.  You are all brave and shining. 

   

"If the world is to be healed through human efforts, I am convinced that it will be by ordinary people, people whose love for this life is even greater than their fear.  People who can open to the web of life that called us into being, and who can rest in the vitality of that larger body." --Joanna Macy

Off to See the Wizard

You can't have a son and not wonder just how much Judy Garland is too much. 

M and I are off on another adventure.  This time we are flying into D.C. to dine with this fabulous artist and her family, then pile into the car next morning and head up to meet another of my favorite hippy mamas and celebrate an amazing mama-to-be in Woodstock, NY. It will be a motherboy explosion in the Catskills if ever there was one.

See you next week!

All Hallow's

The little monkey got an early start on Halloween, trotting over to grandma's house in full regalia.

We took him to "Pioneer Village" in town, which is a museum of old structures including houses, schools, trains, and a church from around turn of the century.  Each building was moved carefully into this setting and surrounded by sycamores and maples.  Most of the homes were moved in the 1950's and the trees tower among them, creating a backlot-at-Universal Studios feeling.  Creepy and fun! 

B the Pirate blended right in with the Kern County Pirate Guild members who had set up an award winning corner featuring rowdy swashbucklers who swigged Dr. Pepper from their rum bottles and arrrggghhhed menacingly.

We ran into my ex-husband while we were there.  I should have never moved back to my hometown!

;)

My Boy Wonder

Parenting is not exactly getting easier as it goes on.  There are tantrumy thingies, sleepless nights, coughs I don't know how to get rid of, an echo of "Out, out out" following me everywhere I go, having to hear the same song or video "Aho, aho" (which means "again, again") ninety six times in a day, grouchy car rides, and now-drumroll.....potty training.  We had two turds on the floor just Sunday.

And then moments like this:

of rogue plague rats on a pirate ship

of pennies in a favorite fountain

and of caped crusading away from me

and all of the challenging things fade away.  They won't ever matter a bit.

To My Sweet

Miles,

You slept a little fitfully last night.  Reminded me of a night two years ago exactly when I awoke at four a.m. to a dog barking inside my head.  Well, actually, it was the neighbor's dog, Duke- who, for reasons soon to become known- came to wake me up at the fence just behind where my head was resting on my pillow inside our cozy gypsy home.

Your birth was a comedy of errors while being the most amazing day of my life.  Because we were still waiting for our house to be built on the 2 1/2 acres we call home, we were living in a wee house not very appropriate for giving birth in.  I'd taken a class on hypnobirthing and was convinced that I could give birth quietly inside the sanctuary of the best hotel suite in town, but, HA! that brilliant idea was not to be. 

I'd eaten mexican food and a brick of chocolate peanut butter ice cream the night before you were born and it was swirling in my stomach as we drove to 'no vacancy' inn after inn, like some Fall season Mary and Joseph.  A stable began to sound mighty good at about 7 a.m, as our car lurched over potholes on the main highway north of town where not even Auntie Gina could be found.  Turns out the county fair was in town and also a festival of cars or something, leaving not a suite nor even a room open for us. 

We drove to the midwife's home as she hurriedly kicked her sleeping husband out of bed and prepared her own room for the birthing experience not of our dreams.  As often with birth, visions of how one might like it to be often do not materialize! 

Once safe inside the midwife's cozy home, I took a bath and ate some popsicles and settled into the idea that you would be with us very soon.  What an interesting day.  I remember looking at the clock at about 9 or so and then I entered a more trance-like state in which I didn't want to wear any clothes and I'd occasionally growl like a bear.  You took your first breath outside of the womb at 1:50 p.m. and as we had dreamed of, you were placed immediately on my tummy with your dad's hand over your back.  As soon as your cord stopped sending you nutrients, dad cut it and you scrambled up to loudly nurse. 

When we heard your voice as you came bursting into our world, we felt like we'd heard it in our dreams many times.  You sounded so familiar!  You glowed like an otherworldly being and you knew so much more about what to do than we did.

I want to thank you, son, for changing my life in so many ways.  We had no idea how you would show us how to love and listen and seek the truth.  Every day I learn from you and I am an eager student to all you have to teach me. 

You are my HEART, my LOVE, and your soul is a mirror for all that is good and sweet in the world.  We couldn't be happier that is was you who was waiting for us all of those years!  I will have so much fun watching you play and dance with your life.

Love, Mommy

Seasons Are Changing

"Merely looking at the world around us is immensely different from seeing it." 

--Frederick France

Sweetest Thing

 

Basketful of Fun

I've been wanting to get Miles a toy that would involve plenty of movement and imagination, and had been thinking about a shopping cart and some play food for months.  We have a walk in pantry, which I thought could be fun for him to "put his groceries away" in.

 

I settled on a metal one from Costco ($27 .99 with 30 pcs of food) because it seemed like it could be passed down to a long line of little shoppers.  The plastic ones at Toys R Us ($14.99) looked really cheap, the food boxes were crummy, and it would not have withstood scads of children bashing it into walls and overturning it.  The casters were well-fashioned, but could be replaced if needed,-they're just like real shopping cart wheels, they spin completely around and turn sharply.  (There was a metal cart at Target for $24.99, but it came with no food and the seperately sold food, though wooden, was not fun and was quite pricey).  There are some great companies with wooden food sets, but I'm concerned about the use of wood as well, and many of them are made in China.  At least the wooden food will last through generations-should I decide to expand our collection, I believe I'll go that route.

I didn't like that the cart was made in China (almost all children's toys are), but I sucked it up and decided to try to bring the world back into harmony (!) by recycling the packaging into something fun.  I love this kitchen, but I think it is too much to spend on a toy that may not get much use in a couple of years, plus it just seems "too nice". Here's what came of my kitchen yearning and the leftover box and cardboard bits:

A crafty stove with glittery burners and opening door!  This is all the proof I need that a little gorilla glue and a box holds limitless possibilities.  You can't see the weird brown piece of cheap plastic steak and clump of peas in the pan, but if you could, it would bring back memories!  It is for this reason that I impulsively purchased the plastic blue pan and 6 pcs of plastic food to enhance the cooking experience.  I still have to attach the spinning knobs (Clever use of sports drink lids glued to butterflying brads).

Eggy Wegg and Jammy Wamm

Miles has recently become wild about fried eggs.  Such simple little pleasures! He is seen here sharing his breakfast with his Shakespeare festival dragon, who shares M's love of eggs.  Note the careful sopping of the yolk with a bit of dry toast.

"Everyone needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in where Nature may heal and cheer and give strength to body and soul alike."  --John Muir

Beach Boys

We spent the weekend in Escondido with some dear friends of many moons.  Miles thought he was in sandbox heaven.  He bravely put his feet at the water's edge and watched his Daddy swim out to sea and play in the waves.  I wondered if he thought of the day when he could join him.

I have not a drop of water in my entire astrological chart, while B is a Pisces and the salty mother cradles him lovingly in her powerful arms.  I seem to bite the bottom when I go out usually getting pummeled by an element that agrees with me better from the shoreline. I don't like seaweedy tendrils tickling my legs.  I'd rather face a bear at twenty feet than know there is a shark a mile offshore.   I can be seen under a big hat or umbrella at the beach, hugging the sand and a book while my boys frolic in the foam- and it suits me just right. 

I love to hear the ocean, especially at night.  The soothing sound of the waves makes me dream of mermaids and moonlight.

Old World Wyrm

This is a hornworm, found on one of our fresno pepper plants, which for years I thought was called a tomato worm.  I think because when I was very small I saw one on a tomato plant and it made a giant impression on me.  That is my dad's thumb in the photo; the monster was at least 4" long.  I think they're so pretty, but they are so destructive and can eat through dozens of leaves in a day.  Sometimes little eggs attach to the backs of these worms, laid by a braconid wasp. The larvae feed on and eventually munch the horny host to death.  They grow into beneficial wasps as adults and prey on many other pests. 

The dark side of gardening!

I feel myself making a seasonal transition, one in which I want to create more with my hands.  Between gardening, writing, housemomming and massaging, my hands are already taking a beating!  What do I have to lose?