Our morning walks to preschool have become really special to me. Asher and I only have to walk five blocks, but blocks around here in our country-like suburban neighborhood (without sidewalks!) are variable in length. We get to talk about all sorts of important things, like where the water goes when it drains into the grate and the different birds that we hear, including chickens, woodpeckers, and songbirds. There’s plenty of chatter from him, too. He tells me what colors the pine cones in Dreamland are and how he is a brave knight who has a sword and a bow with which to fight the bad guys. We watch the frisky squirrels chase each other, pick up sticks and unwanted dandelions, and feel the bumpy plants (sedum murale?) growing in a rock wall.

The only kind of bad thing about our morning walk is that we have to be careful of the traffic from parents dropping their children off at our local public school, which is just a couple of doors down from our home. Our neighborhood is normally very quiet, but the daily getting-to-school time is busier. Still, it’s good practice for Asher. He’s learning how to stay on the very edge of the road or walk along the verge. And more often than not, I see smiles on the faces of the drivers that pass us with wider than necessary berths. I have to admit, Asher’s pretty damned cute as he marches merrily along, blond hair bouncing, or balances atop a curb or wall with arms outstretched.

Today it was something new.

“I gonna run! I gonna get my exercise.”

< Mama evaluates the traffic situation >

“OK.”

“You run too, Mama! You could run fast like me.”

< running >

“I faster than you!”

“You are very fast. You’re a good runner.”

< Mama jogs >

“Faster, Mama. Run faster! You run faster like me.”

< Asher pauses >

“I really exercised!”

“Yes, you did.”

“I gonna rest a minute.”

“OK. You catch your breath.”

I can’t really get in shape by walking five blocks and back twice a day, but I sure can enjoy the trip.

I

It starts with a bed-a-bye snuggle, sometime before the morning music …

somehow, there we all are.

Four abed, snuggled under, breathing.

Daddy’s the bravest. He rises before the rest.

Then mama feels guilty, smells coffee brewing, and slowly emerges from the nest.

Big boy bounces up, right up!

Mama and big boy go to his room to pull out clothes for today’s many adventures.

“But I’m not ready!” he complains.

(Mama doesn’t blame him. She’s not ready either.)

So they sit together on the green carpet. Perhaps a cuddle?

Arms enfold ten wiggly elbows, ten knocking knees.

“Either this lap used to be bigger, or you used to be smaller.”

(Giggle)

And there she is, just an arm’s length away,

Emily Mouse, doing her “evening” chores, having a before-bed drink

of water from the upside-down blue bottle.

Gently, Mama says, “Maybe Emily misses you,” thinking, it has been a good long while

since you held your mousie friend.

OK. He reaches for her, cups her gently in two astonishingly large hands

lined and crackled with dirt,

graced with broken nails

and calluses—

curious hands

that move a bit too fast.

White mouse whiskers, sniffing, twitching.

“Wow,” mama says. “We have had Emily for a whole year.”

“Yep.” White mouse moves over dingy T-shirt,

is corralled back into workaday hands.

To herself, Gently now … careful …

“How long do mice live?” Mama wonders cautiously.

“Two years, or a little more.”

Hmmm …

Emily’s fur is stroked, ears scratched by one nubby index finger.

Even. More. Gently …

“What do you think that means?”

…

Blue eyes flash, then seek refuge in the green carpet.

She will die someday. Sometime.

“Maybe soon.”

“Let’s give her lots of love until then, OK?”

“Yeah, Mom.”

“And lots of petting. And kitchen scraps!”

“Yeah! I wonder if we gave her a whole sweet pepper, would she eat a hole and crawl inside it?”

“I don’t know. Let’s give her one and see.”

Eggs are ready. “Time for breakfast,” says the Daddy.

Littlest boy sleeps on …

…

II

Lucas and Grandma leave.

Existential dilemma faced and dressing for a rainy school day accomplished!

Phew!

Mama sips coffee

until …

“MAMA!”

Sleepy one emerges into a quiet house.

“My jammies are wet. I want a kiwi.”

Never before. “A kiwi? Really?”

“Yes.”

Well, then. Diaper change and then Mama goes looking …

Hallelujah! A kiwi. One.

“I have to peel the fuzzy brown skin off.”

“And then I eat it up.”

It vanishes before Mama’s eyes. Three gulps tops.

Then the cold eggs follow.

Mama sits by his side.

“I’m ready for some holding now,” he says with certain faith, and climbs over.

A small egg fills her lap.

“I’m a baby bird in my egg.”

Ah. “And I’m the nest?”

“Yes. And the Mama Bird.”

Pecking. Peck. Peck.

“I’m pecking!

“I’m hatching! Hatch!”

“Hello, Baby Bird! Welcome.”

“You’re my Mama Bird?!”

“Mmmm-hmm …”

“I hatch again!”

(Repeat)

“Are you ready to fly, baby bird?”

“Yes!”

“Let’s put on your red rain feathers.”

“Hurry, Mama Bird! Let’s fly!”

All the way to preschool.

The day started with blueberry smoothies

and Lego construction of video game hardware

Like Wii and DS

That’s all he needs, really—little Lego devices on which he can pin his imaginary games

The boys left to play at our friends’ house and indulge in a little real Wii Sports

Then for me, some light reading: a fundamentals of nursing textbook

I was lured outside for some photography

Gotta catch these plum blossoms before they’re gone

See the little star?

An unexpected visit from Mom and a cup of coffee

More nursing reading on topics of theories of caring, cultural sensitivity, and the ADPIE nursing process

I jogged through the sunshiny neighborhood to pick up the kids from their play date—oh boy, am I out of shape!

Walking/running home with one son in fast, new white trainers and the other wearing the jumpiest pair of firefighter galoshes you’ve ever seen

Second lunch of meat for Baby Asher Dragon

Lunch of leftover vegetable soup for me

A little planting of primroses, which will probably do fine where we put them until it gets too warm

Finding a worm

Watering plants lead to spraying children who cavorted with great glee and got soaking wet

In February!

High of 65° F

Ahhh!

We met a garden foefriend

Who couldn’t find his way off this plate

Dry clothes for everyone

Then a cuddle and some stories; the children are into playing Monkey and Dragon these days, so we read books with, what else?

Monkeys and dragons

Hug (Thanks, Auntie NoNo and Uncle Mars!)

Sky Castle

and—what the hay—a Japanese fairy tale called “Kuzma and the Fox”

Sweet afternoon slumber for the wee one

Lucas and I headed back outdoors for some Winter Olympic Games

Like speed skating, long track

Figure skating

and ice hockey

On the lawn with bare feet!

More work reading

A few moments of  “DragonFly TV” and “Fetch with Ruff Ruffman” on PBS Kids for Lucas

Asher wandered out, crawled into my lap and slept on

So sweet

Cuddling sleeping boys is just about the best thing in the world (unless you have to pee)

“Wake up, Asher, or you’ll never sleep tonight!”

A shower for me

Pretend video games for Lucas

Daddy’s home!

Lucas reading Jamberry to Asher!

Just a tad of stream-of-consciousness blogging

Sounds of some kind of Dragon and Monkey game with lots of sound effects and shouting

Soon, dinner and bedtime

Then project prep

More work reading, like the Roy Adaptation Model

G’night

Sleep tight.

Isn’t life amazing? Yesterday I held a kind of vigil for some loved ones, quietly and patiently waiting for news about health issues. My two candles burned all the time I was home and until I closed my eyes to sleep. It’s good work—holding people in your heart all day, breathing small prayers past your lips and into your everyday actions. Wash a dish, say a prayer. Take a walk, say a prayer. Fold the laundry, say a prayer.

Today, we’re still waiting for important news from one loved one. So the vigil continues.

Ian and the boys are robust, lovely, and soldiering on. We have daily conflicts and challenges, things to learn, and things to work on. And yet we march forward each day to face them, process them, learn from them, and to make the world a better place through sharing our love. And we are happy.

The world keeps turning. Projects end, begin, and continue. Homework comes due (yikes!). Dinners are cooked. Metaphorical and imaginary fires (especially if you’re Baby Asher Firefighter) must be put out. What is needed? How can we help? We pick up our tools and go to work.

Some of us fake it until we can make it. Some play-act through our fear and confusion. “You need surgery, Mom. Go to sleep. I have to cut you open and take out this lump. Oh no! Here is another one. Better get that one, too, before it spreads. OK. Now you’ll be all better. Does it hurt? Here is some medicine. I’ve saved you!” Processing … My heart seems to break a little more every day … for all the good and all the bad in life.

And speaking of hearts, celebrations for Valentine’s Day are in the works. I get to make and then serve a Valentine’s snack for 27 hungry children on Friday (mmm … strawberry muffins with honey-sweetened cream-cheese topping). Tokens of friendship and love are being made by small hands everywhere. Can you hear the click of their pens, the slicing of their safety scissors in paper, the sprinkling of glitter over white glue? I can. I can hear the painstaking scratching of No. 2 pencils signing names 26 times.

We humans are a study in the paradox of steadfastness and flexibility. We turn to one another—some offering, some asking for help. We carry fears and frustrations, crippling pains, loves, and our joie de vivre through all the buffeting storms.

Isn’t life amazing? Isn’t it grand?

Edit: The news we were waiting for is Happy News!

“I Captain Baby Asher. You Captain Mommy.”

“You want to buy something from my store? Like a chocolate milkshake?”

“Whatchu doing, Lucas?”

“I want to watch a program.”

“I need a nack (snack).”

“You like my daddy? You like my brother? You like a baby? Me?”

“I don’t like this dinner.”

“Baby use your red phone?”

“Can we eat at a restaurant?”

“Leave me alone. I need to work.”

“I a superguy. A superhero!”

“Look out! Aliens are coming!”

“I need water. One ice. Two ice.”

“Baby touch your nipples GENTLY?”

An elfin warrior and a good soldier koala man fight the evil emperor, who threatens the kingdom of cuddly Oo Ah Ee creatures!

No toys in this house are played with as much as these colorful silk scarves, except perhaps for Legos. Lucas never tires of inventing stories and now that Asher is almost 3-years-old, he has plenty to add to the games. Their play is far more imaginative,  interactive, and involves more role-playing than it was just six months ago. This is a beautiful thing because the more they play imagination games, the more they are cooperating instead of competing for resources. Fortunately, we have plenty of play silks.

I wish I’d managed to write this days ago, but my work has got me hopping like crazy!

Halloween was perfect this year. It felt like such a treat to have it on a Saturday night because we could really enjoy ourselves.

Friday night before Halloween we enjoyed a great meal of pork chops, sweet potatoes, and greens and then carved our jack-o’-lantern. Parnasus and her son X joined us for the carving fun, and I finally hung up the groovy felt decorations we made the day before. This year Lucas managed to carve his own pumpkin, and made a graveyard scene showing headstones and a creepy hand coming up from a grave (What?).  Asher’s jack-o’-lantern was perfectly smiley, just as he requested.

We spent about five hours on Saturday figuring out our costumes. Lucas knew he wanted to be Christopher Robin from the A. A. Milne books. How impossibly cute is that? It was an easy costume to create. We added long socks and some suspenders made of ribbon and dug out my old Winnie the Pooh doll my childhood. I knew there was a good reason to save it all these years!

Thanks to Eden’s suggestion, Ian and decided on Peter Pan and Wendy costumes. I used to have the perfect white nightie, but I turned my wardrobe upside-down and didn’t find it. Fortunately, I had a white summer dress that I combined with a white blouse to make a nightgown. A pretty blue bow in my hair was about all I needed to complete the look. Ian easily transformed some cheap, green shorts and a green shirt from Target into a Peter Pan outfit with some judicious dagging. You might say we were a pretty literary bunch this year.

Grandma and Tolly Dog, who had been away for a month in Tahoe, came home to come out trick-or-treating with us. Ian’s sister Kellie and her boyfriend Matt came along, too. Kellie took this terrific photo of all four of us.

Unfortunately, despite many attempts at finding a costume that Asher would tolerate, we failed. We offered him all kinds of options, which he would agree with at first, but then refused to actually put on. He had talked about being Thomas the Tank Engine and a “big dragon with big teeth,” but in the end, all we could get him to wear was a “super-guy” cape.

Most of the evening, Asher wouldn’t go up to the houses, but stayed back with his family. Those who answered Lucas’s doorbell ring usually sent a piece of candy out to Asher with Lucas or me. Asher finally got up the courage to approach this house and did it properly. He seemed pretty proud of himself after that.

The trick-or-treating was a great success and my kids brought home way too much candy. We went out pretty early in the evening so we could get to the Pumpkin Path at Sacramento Waldorf School at 7 p.m.

The Pumpkin Path was wonderful as always! The children (and their parents) were guided by their Angel Guide along a windy path through the school that was  lighted by jacks and luminairies. They saw skits of toymakers, magic scarecrows, a fable about the lion and the mouse, the race of the hare and the tortoise, singing fairies in the glen, a contest of strength between the sun and the wind, and more. At each station the kids were given a trinket, toy, or edible treat. The best part about the Pumpkin Path this year was the way Lucas guided his little brother, helping him over tree roots in the ground or up and down steps, staying by Asher’s side so he wouldn’t be scared in the night. It was so heartwarming to see Lucas take care of Asher in this way. And Asher gleefully trooped along after Lucas. Last year, we carried Asher through it. This year, he went on his own.

We rounded out the evening with a party at our friends’ house. It was a perfect Halloween!

Welcome to Asher’s Store. He has lots of merchandise, but also something of an inventory problem.

He uses his “computer” to work all the time. “Don’t touch my stuff!” he tells us one minute. The next, he says “Come buy something in my store and pay me money.”  Because of the computer he is able to take credit cards.

He carries a wide selection of tools and books, and random gizmos of all sorts. Some items cost 36 cents. Others cost “40-85-shs dollars.”

“Sit down and pay me money.”

It’s good that he has the latest in price scanners. It makes his service so excellent. You can bet I’m a repeat customer.

Lucas has been sick all week and still is sick. Today we took him to the urgent-care doctor, who determined he has a lung infection and asthma because of it. We now have medicines to treat both. And now Asher has a fever, too.

On Thursday night, after the fourth solid day of fever, I got creative. More about that in a minute. 

There is a whole school of Athroposophical medicine, of which I am largely ignorant. I know a couple of key points, however, and have an uneasy relationship to them. One key point is the idea that fever is one of the body’s main ways of purging itself of unwanted substances, i.e. viruses and bacteria. People who subscribe to this theory recommend not suppressing a fever with drugs, but say we should instead simply provide supportive care and allow the fever to run its course. The supportive care stuff is somewhat familiar (and seems natural/reasonable to me), and somewhat alien. Lemon leg compresses are not the stuff I was raised on.

Over the course of the past week, Ian and I have waffled a bit. Sometimes we gave Lucas ibuprofen to suppress his fever so he could feel better. When his eyes get glassy and he stops moving and talking, I begin to worry. Whenever we dosed him, he felt much better and was able to play and be more himself (still sick, but more himself). When he wasn’t that hot, we let him be in the hopes that he’d rest and get rid of the bug. Now I kind of wonder if dosing him may have prolonged the sickness, given that he was far more active with the ibuprofen in his system. Perhaps he overtaxed his impaired body during those times.

I am so not a doctor, and often have a hard time separating the health info/advice I have stored in my noggin into appropriate True, False, or Complete Bullshit categories.

Anyway … In an effort to distract him and keep him still, I made him a needle-felted Fever Fairy. (Yes, I made her. With. My. Hands. You may rightly gasp with amazement now.) So. A Fever Fairy. She is adorned in fiery colors and is made entirely of wool roving (with a single pipe-cleaner inside for structure). I named her Scarlett (OK, that part wasn’t very creative) and gave her to Lucas, telling him that Fever Fairies are special friends who visit children who are sick and feverish. 

The job of a Fever Fairy is to keep sick children company and to whisper soothing things to them. Fever Fairies stay by their side as long as the children are sick, then disappear. But whenever a child needs a rest and some quiet time, he may call to his Fever Fairy and she will come to him and whisper soothing words and cuddle him.  



I told Lucas a story about a sick little boy and Scarlett, the Fever Fairy. Every time the boy became sick while he was growing up, Scarlett came to him and kept him company. She reminded him of all the cooling things in the world, like the sweet taste of ice-cold water, the many flavors of ice-cream, swimming in summertime, the feeling of snowflakes falling on his cheek and raindrops on his skin. She told him he would get well and feel better soon and that she loved him very much. Scarlett came to him when he was a boy, and a teenager, and a grown-up man, and even an old man—whenever he was sick. And each time she visited, the boy always felt better. Her sweet words helped his fever come down. They were forever friends.

Lucas has slept with Scarlett since then and held her while resting on the couch. I don’t know if this is an original idea or not, but I’ve never heard about anyone else doing it. Either way, his Fever Fairy has distracted him a little. And for that, I’m grateful. 

 

And now, we’re off to do some face-painting. He wants a teddy bear on his cheek.