Improbable Things

So much fun, it hurts

We spent all day yesterday building a playground. The end result causes deafening squeals of delight. I'm just dumbstruck with gratitude - to the neighbor who shared their playset with us (yes we will be back to rebuild the planter!), to the other neighbors who loaned us a truck (even if we ended up not needing it), to my dad for being the chief engineer and confidence-builder, and to our two dear friends who worked their patoots off and definitely earned their aunty and uncle stripes this weekend. 

The finished product, in all its glory. Surrounded by 30 bags of mulch. It's been slightly 'customized' in the rebuilding. Enough so that I'm not sure we could pass it on again. But it's solid. Very. Solid.

Never forget your pick-ax when watching the children.

The cat has checked it out and approves, though he's lost his dignity twice skiing down the canopy willy-nilly.

We kept staring at it this evening. Mostly because we couldn't believe we got it done in one day. And because our kids were on it, even though there were barefoot... and in pajamas... and it was raining. It appears they like it.

 

Sandwiches are beautiful

WeeE has been practicing a song, for her spring concert I think. It's a catchy tune and if anyone local wants to come to the concert, lemme know.

 

 

In the background, you hear WeeC yelling, "BUTTER-JELLY!!" which roughly translated means, "OMG, I'm eating a peanut-butter and jelly sandwich and you are singing about sandwiches! What an amazing coincidence! Isn't that AMAZING?! Can you HEAR ME?!!?"

 

 

Not Pictured

Not pictured today, due to dead camera batteries, are the following memories:

• WeeC whigging out about a little bit of dirt on her hand/foot/finger/shirt, then soaking herself with the hose... resulting in very cold, wet, still-dirty toddler.
• Sunday school kids noting what they love: "I love my mom and my mumma." "I love nature walks." Cool kids!
• WeeE taking off with dad on her first adventure on the trail-a-bike. Four miles by the 4 year old on the first run.
• Planting. Phlox, basil, oregano, sage, butterfly bush, a sad mallow, petunias, pinks, grape hyacinth, a crowded daphne. Waiting on peas and sunflowers to peek up. WeeE learned to pop the plants from the plastic pots, to make a 'bed', and to tuck them in.
• WeeE romping barefoot most of the day, even climbing the yew.
• The cat climbing the yew with WeeE, following her from branch to branch, sitting with her in a crook of a branch.
• WeeC large and in charge in the sandbox. The girl has a plan! You, mere mortal, are probably in the way of her plan.
• Lenten Rose and Bleeding Hearts are blooming, fiddleheads are rising up, the dogwood has pink blossoms.
• My girls playing together for a solid hour - winding a solar-powered radio, making and destroying grand plans in the sand box, negotiating, fighting, helping, all to the dulcet sounds of "Stairway to Heaven" and "American Pie."
• Home delivery of a mint-chocolate milkshake. Yes, I can, and yes, I did.
• Bill in all black bike gear... and a pink tiara from the birthday party yesterday (after biking about 35 miles). 

We ran through 2-3 changes of clothes during the day, had a few fights about petty things (WeeC: "That's aMINE!"), and got a whole lot planted. It was a good healthy dirty day. Our vitamin D deficiency has suffered a blow and my headspace is greatly improved. I'll have to remember it in the smell of earth, spring sunlight through budding trees, and the sound of angry Robins yelling at cats.

 

 

 

Good Day

Not all days are equal. We've been lucky to have nothing much interesting happen for several weeks, aside from sharing a fortnight of colds, pink-eye, and eye infections around and around. We've been cranky and cold on overcast days and a little bit manic on sunny days. Mostly though, we are settled in again to the school and work schedule (just in time for more logistical changes) and deeply grateful for a few more minutes of light each day. 

Today was a little bit manic.

The day starts with an amazing and unexpected gift: I slept in until 8:15 am. In five years since having my first child, I think I've slept in only in the dire months of having a newborn, when on occassion a friend or my dear husband would let me catch up out of the desperate sleep deprivation. In these five years, I can only recall one week, maybe two, where the stars aligned for several days consecutive of restful long nights of sleep. We get by, but many days, my emotional reserves are shallow and the coarser moments of the day brush by me like harsh sand-paper on raw skin. We've grown accustomed to the constant tiredness, but I do recall, dimly, a time when I didn't crave sleep.

So one morning of sleeping in, just a little, just until my brain and body were done with sleep, just until 8:15 am, was an amazing gift. ... and maybe a contributing factor to the manic pace that follows....

Painting

 

Flowers

 

Teatime

 

Swimming (not pictured)

 

Cupcakes

 

Gardening

 

Resting

Also not pictured: A movie with Barbie and Flying Pegasus (OMG, so awful), a meltdown about a pink pipe-cleaner necklace, Lotte being carried around in a purple plastic basket, "head wrestling" in the car and the resulting cracked skulls, the hail storm as we ran into the CVS, two pre-schoolers trying (and failing?) to wheel a shopping basket around the store, and the looks on their faces when I tried to serve cabbage with dinner.

I don't know the point of this post. To brag on my kids? Or on a good day? To carefully portray myself as a crafty outdoorsy mom with her act together? After a slightly hysterical laugh, I can only shrug. I wonder why we put anything like this "out there." Perhaps for the simple reason that it feels good to share a good day. Like a long languid stretch after sleeping in late, just to relish the good feeling. Some days, it feels very good, to be here, doing this, right now.

 

Resting and recuperating

Note that Josefina has a doll of herself. Of course she does.

Doll Hospital

American Girl Dolls. It has happened to us.

The doll was a gift, a very loved, much-used doll from our babysitter. It was an extravagant hand-me-down, coming, as she did with her dowry of outfits and her hand-made quilted travel bag. Yes, the bag was made by the same baby-sitter when she was a child (or maybe her mother). Yes, the doll is not age-appropriate for a 4 year old. Regardless, it was love at first sight. Josefina became, within the space of heartbeats, my oldest daughter's very dearest best friend.

Josefina has been to see a Cirque performance. She traveled to NYC for the Rockettes (though I think she rested in the hotel room for the actual performance). Inspired by these adventures, she opted to get herself (via my daughter via my debit card) the ice-skating outfit when we visited the American Girl Store this past December.

That evening we learned that ice-skates, even pretend ones, sometimes fit more snuggly than do actual limbs. At least, in doll-reality.

Ritual, Tradition, and Habit

Today after church, the girls and I popped into a meeting on integrating ritual into daily life. I've been craving more ritual, more opportunities to center myself and my family, and so I went hoping to get some insights into how our chosen faith (Unitarian Universalism) can enrich the rituals of our lives. The sermon had focused on the flaming chalice, the symbol of the UUs and the myriad meanings behind it. 

In true UU fashion, it was a friendly and open gathering, but with little substantive... because we are encouraged to define things for ourselves. We covered some very basic ideas, like bedtime rituals. I came away noticing that we tended to confuse rituals with habits and traditions.

When asked about an evening ritual, WeeE (she's wee to me again this week) volunteered that we watch Scooby Doo. Indeed we do, resulting in the nightly pain of having that song stuck in my head again. Other families noted morning rituals of having the kids run downstairs to play or watch TV. Yes, the parents shared a shame-faced glance of shared guilt. That's why we were in this meeting after all - we all wonder how we can bring something more meaningful and deliberate into our days, months, and years. We left with a slightly better sense of some church traditions (annual Halloween Haunted House) and a sense that we aren't alone in wanting something "more" in our daily actions.

What is a ritual and how is it different from a tradition or a habit?

To me, a ritual is important in the focus and deliberate intention of the act. Lighting a chalice is a ritual, although to another person lighting a candle in a cup may not mean anything special. The intent imbues it with the power of ritual. You may convincingly argue that a cup of coffee in the morning is a ritual. And perhaps it is for some. But for most, it's just a habit. WeeE's former school started with a ritual morning hand-shake with the head of the school. You might argue that it was a tradition, but it had meaning, no child was skipped, no morning missed - it was a ritual beginning of the day and it meant you started the day with respect and a friendly touch. The power of ritual is what you put into it.

A tradition can be powerful and full of intent, but it differs from ritual. We traditionally spend Solstice with my family and Christamas Eve with my husband's family, but these two visits are not rituals. Opening gifts on Christmas morning is not a ritual, though, oh my, I wish I knew how to make gift giving/receiving something more holy and deliberate for children. As it is, they have no idea who gave them anything in the frenzy to consume and I just can't abide considering that a ritual.

I want more rituals - more moments of the divine, more moments of deliberate silence or thoughtfulness. To the handful of folks who read this, any suggestions from your own families? Large or small rituals, all religion traditions welcome. We fashion our own from many, always with as much respect to the source as possible. The best suggestions are those that convey well with children.

First Day of School - New School

Time Flies. Summer ends. School comes again.

And little girls get TALLER!

Check out last year's picture. What can you say. Her feet didn't touch the ground. She was so little. She has grown a full hand-height in a year. But then I look around at the kids at the new school, and she is suddenly little again.

It was a festive first day parade. E is a big girl now - wise in the ways of schools. She went right to work tracing her hands, found her name on her cubby faster than I could, and wasn't the least bit concerned to see me leave. She picked her nap-time sheets, helped pack her lunch, and was super excited to go to the new school and speak French. She's happily OBSESSED with French and speaks her version, a gibberish that has some nasal vowels, all the time. We'll now see how that turns into French proper.

The rest of the morning photos are here - parade and mom doing her classwork as well.

"Healed"

We returned to the Childrens Burn Clinic yesterday morning for a dressing change and assessment. I was anxious about this. We'd been given the responsibility of keeping a dressing on a child for 5 days without being able to clean to change it. Had we succeeded? What surprises would we find.

We got the wraps off and the doc removed the silver foam gently. She inspected the wound and declared us healed.

Healed. Her exact word.

Looking at the red burn marks across WeeC belly and leg, I thought, "This word, it does not mean what I think it means." Slightly incredulous, I asked what she meant.

She explained that in 6 days, my lil wonder baby had grown new skin across the whole of the burn. What we see in that red expanse is a paper-thin new layer of skin, not actually a raw wound. It's still very very thin. But you can touch her without causing pain. Some folks take up to 4 weeks to regenerate after a burn, but our Wunderkin rebuilt in 6 days. Even the patch of third degree has generated a new layer of skin and looks pink.

Six days. Six f'in days. Kids are amazing.

Then came the BEST news. We could give her a bath. In fact we are supposed to bathe her twice a day to keep the new skin moisturized and supple. Then apply a layer of Aquaphor (the new Vasaline) and she's free. No additional dressings needed. She's free to be a kid again. Free to be messy. Free, OMG, to go to the pool (though maybe not swim for a week or two and use sunscreen diligently if her chest will be exposed to sun). The goal now is to keep it free of injury and work to avoid scaring as it continues to regrow for the next two months. The doc's parting words were, "And don't come back!"

I was giddy with disbelief.

Of course, WeeC thinks the doc is crazy too. After we applied the Aquaphor, she looked down at herself and cried out, appalled. "Messh, Booboo!" She did NOT want to see it! So we wrapped her back up in gauze, for her mental comfort. She laughed with happiness when we pulled out the special tight shirt she's been wearing over the dressings, mightily relieved that we understood her desire to keep this all under wraps still.

After a long nap, we took her first bath. She was a bit hesitant to see herself. But the kid loves waterplay and she hadn't been allowed any for a week. So the lure of her long lost bath toys overcame her aversions. Every time she'd look down in distress, I'd make a bit deal of doing a gentle poke and tickle. I wanted her to learn that she can touch her belly now and it does not hurt. It looks angry still, but it's safe. By the end of the bath, I could see her confidence in her own resilience building. If a toy brushed her belly, she didn't cringe. She might check it out, but she was learning to be comfortable with this new situation.

Her sister was still very firm in her desire to avoid seeing her sister's burn. I told her that was totally ok but that it might be a little harder to avoid, since we'd be taking two baths a day and putting the medicine on it. Know two things about BigE: she loves baths and she loves helping with medicines. I expected she'd end up drawn to a situation where she'd have to see this burn. In order for her to understand more about why it is different (even though it doesn't look much different), I made a pile of 6-9 leaves of torn paper towels and we had a quick chat about how skin works. The thick pile of paper towels is normal skin Thick, spongey, you can tickle or lightly pinch it and you feel it but it's not a big deal. I took away all but one layer and we talked about how it was at the start of the burn. WeeC had lost all the top layers, maybe even more, from the hot coffee. Over a week, she'd grown more layers back (putting two more towel layers down). But it was still red and tender because half of the layers (still in my hand) were missing. But over the next few weeks, she'd grow the rest (putting them down on the pile).

After our science lesson, BigE was more comfortable with the idea of her sister's wounds. After the bath, she materialized out of her room, ready to help put the medicine cream on. Once we got WeeC dried, her sister very diligently applied Aquaphor all over her torso and leg, helping her get better (and overcoming her fear of how bad her sister was hurt).

Can I just say, that was freakin' awesome!

... and so, we are one week later and somehow we are almost back to normal. Lots of baths and petroleum jelly in our future, but we were able to return to the pool to see friends last night. I would NEVER have believed it possible after a week, but thanks to the miraculous strength of children and the knowledgeable care of the docs, we have a happy dirty summer-loving child again.

Still Cute

You can see a little bandaging peeking out on her legs.

Under WeeC's summer dress is all bandage and dressing. Which is already covered in peach juice. They were incognito at the thrift store.