wanting to write

 I wish I had more time to I write.  I miss writing about my children, it was such a nice way to
keep those memories certain... and now everyday I think of all the sweet, funny, cute, intelligent, naughty, mischievous things they do and I tell myself to write them before I forget but I have already forgotten ... many of the small things that add and contribute to the whole... that make the picture, the memory complete.  A brief moment to carry with you for the rest of eternity.

I miss being a stay at home mom.  It isn't easy staying home.  A certain amount of self is lost when you give your time and energy primarily to your children.  A certain amount of sanity casually slips out the door and silently beckons chaos in to take his place, like a watch dog that invites the fox into the chicken coup.  Some people, I suppose... I am not sure, we all have different needs...leave home to escape this loss of self and the intense years of childhood... but I don't know if you can escape it, insanity is still my friend, although I am not as home as often... she didn't take a vacation because I went out my front door to learn and grow at the university.

When I come home insanity is still there comfortably settled in between the couch cushions or plastered to the wall with the noodles or spread out on my floor with all the cereal crumbs or just hanging out with any other item the children have scattered, smattered, stuffed into crannies, thrown onto walls, ceilings or floors... they are so creative. :)  Occasionally, I will talk to her, especially if I happened to say something particularly inane in class... I will ask her, pleadingly, to help me keep my mouth closed next time I think I want to say something...  because I am learning the hard way that it is better to be thought a fool rather then to confirm it.  Why oh why do I like the sound of my own halting and uncertain voice... a voice that at the same time can be so stubborn and passionate.

I do love learning and am excited to be in school, but on the whole I miss my children.  I miss the casual day where we find ourselves going to the park, reading books, hanging out... just being together and doing things... I miss having them be my goal and my focus... I feel a little torn.  A little here and a little there.  But I chose this path nobody made me take it.  So, I will finish it and hopefully finish it well.  Then I will come back, back to my home, back to the place I love best.

For whatever reason, I felt like it was the right thing to do... I don't know why exactly... I am hoping that the future and God will tell why I felt a need to go back to school, hopefully I read the spirit right.  I don't believe though, in a God who punishes just because we didn't hear right when we are trying hard to do so.  Maybe a path correction but not anger or punishment at our sincere attempts at following His will.  In the end, I believe it will work out.

   It is funny to watch Joshua adjusting to the schedule.  Frequently, I wonder if the kids will match when he dresses them or will he finally realize just how picky his children are when he tries to make them lunch... Sometimes he will say, Asher or Isaac did this or that in complete shock and dismay...  I just have to smile and say, "yes love, that is what they do!".  What I think is normal for our children he is having to adjust to.

Isaac, is growing up so quickly... he says more and more words but never very consistently... he is a rascal and a sweety, loving and ferocious (not mean ferocious but independent and determined) all at once :)  He refuses to say please all though I know he can say it.  He sits on the books, still, when we try to read them not in a mean spirit but...that is just how books are read, you sit on them... and as always he likes to climb on things... the other day he climbed up on to our microwave and started dancing around.... you can't leave anything as a stair or a ladder lying around or he will climb from the box, to the chair, to the table, to the microwave, to the refrigerator, to the chandelier if he can reach it... and always with a satisfied air of accomplishment which always qualifies for a good dance.

Asher, my sweet Asher, is growing up and is just as precocious... so good at sharing and sometimes not at all... this morning he climbed into the crib to comfort a crying Isaac (I was trying to get him to go back to sleep)... he loves his brother and will try very hard to be a kind comforting older brother... most of the time.  :)  The other day he was jabbering away at Josh while Josh fixed our new exerciser bike... Josh turned to me and said, can you understand what he is saying... I smiled and said no, I wasn't paying strict attention though either... Asher then said, "I am not talking about bikes, or balls, I am talking about (dramatic pause) door knobs"!... we both laughed which thrilled Asher to be the center of our attention and then Josh said, "hey look! there are door knobs right behind you!"  Asher turns and in sudden revelations says, "oh yeah, door knobs!"...

We do all love each other... none of us are perfect we all make mistakes... but goodness we are lucky to have one another :)

part of a poem, Long Years Have Past Since Last I Stood

I thought if yet my weary feet
could rove my native hills again
A world of feeling would revive...

Absence is not forgetfulness,
And distance cannot vanquish time.

I am hungry/miss writing

one of last walks we took

I miss writing on my blog.  I miss the creativity and I miss capturing the slippery memories, so easily lost, of my children...  The funny things they say.  Like the other day I asked Asher what a promised land was... He started talking about cute little bunnies and how they would come and lick his face and it would make him laugh.  He is so intelligent and so creative... but it is so easy to miss in his flurry of words that bombard you in a moments notice.  If you aren't paying attention... it is gone before you know it and so are all the sweet little stories.

Isaac slept through most of it

Isaac, has reached this fun stage where... he doesn't really talk but he does have some random phrases that he uses... phrases that make you think he does know how to talk, he just chooses not too... or else we have not figured out what phonemes he is using to make his words... His most favorite phrase at this time is "What is this?"  He will point to everything around him, "what is this?", "what is this?" and just beam when  you tell him the words, as if he is hungry/passionate, thirsty for knowledge.  One of his favorite objects is the moon... well and the stars... when we leave magra and pagra's (grandma and grandpa) house late at night he will stare into the night sky and say... wa'st this?... wa's this?... one night he started to scream/cry because Josh put him into the car before he could finish enjoying his star gazing moment.  It was so sad.

what happens when mom doesn't pay attention... it ended getting in everyone's eyes... don't let your kids play with pepper :)

oh... and I lost the battery recharger to the camera ... again.  I have been FOREVER without a camera... or so it seems.

I am loving my classes... I love learning.  I love talking and sharing in class discussions, although I always regret something I may have said or not said (clarity).  After class, I always want to track SOMEONE down to share what I am learning, or what I wish I had said... or how I didn't mean exactly what I said... what I meant was this... But that can't always be done.

reaping the momentary benefits of spilled black pepper... moments later he paid for it, having to take a shower (their least favorite) to get all the pepper off

Josh is sick again.  I feel like the both of us are trying to be hopeful and prayerful, but watching warily, crossing our fingers that the chronic fatigue does not return.  I do feel though, that even if it does return we will be okay.  I refuse to be as weak as I was when he first became sick at the beginning of our marriage... I will be strong and do what I have to do, no matter what happens.  If I could have my way... I would stay at home and grow my children and a garden and maybe write a book someday.

speaking of energy

Speaking of energy... yesterday, Isaac dumped chips and cheerios on the floor.  Cheerios for breakfast and chips at snack time.  Asher knocked over the tv while I was doing the dishes... everyone survived though! and he set free a bag of chocolate chips (while we were decorating the tree) all over my floor which really, really made Isaac's day... I followed a trail of butter to Josh's computer chair where I found it all squished and melting.  I had been in the bathroom and had forgotten to keep all the butter out of reach, it is the first thing I usually think about protecting from my toddlers reaching hands... duh, never leave the butter in reach... Isaac also got it in his hair so after bath time it was nice and soft... and I could go on but then I would look like a mom who isn't paying attention to what her children are doing... which may very well be possible :0) I hear some crashing going on in the other room...

this was written before Christmas

After Christmas and the New Year

 Everything feels like it has moved so quickly.  Frequently, when time seems to be slipping so freely from my grasp, really sand is an apt metaphor for time, I remember a book my father would read to my family when we were all at home, A Lantern in Her Hand.  It is a beautiful story about a girl who becomes a woman and a mother and sacrifices everything for her children.  She gives up her voice, her beauty, her artistic talent all is put aside so she can build a farm, indirectly a country, for her children.  Throughout the book the main character, Abbie, frequently laments the passage of time, in the beginning of the book she says,

"It was queer how it all hurt you, -how the odor of the night, the silver sheen of the moon, the moist feeling of the dew, the whispering of the night breeze, how, somewhere down in your throat it hurt you.  It was sad, too, that this evening would never come again.  The night winds were blowing it away.  You could not stop the winds and you could not stop time.  It went on, - and on."

he would NOT keep his gloves on! and then he would cry because his hands are cold... I am not sure how often I put his gloves back on...we didn't stay out very long though

There have been times when I have felt this need to stop time.  Not all of the moments have been happy ones, some of them have been bitter.  Once, when a friend of mine passed away I wanted time, the world, nature, to stop and mourn with me, it didn't make sense to have everything move forward without her.  Couldn't it stop for a moment?  Just one moment while I gathered everything that seemed so senseless back together to try and make some sense of it all, she died so young.  I knew I would see her again, which eased the pain but did not... take it away.

While some moments may have been bitter there are also some that are infinitely precious.  Now, I have my children and they are growing, how delightful it would be to be able to stop time and drink in the deliciousness of my children, to laugh and play, blow raspberries on their fat little bellies, one more kiss on their chubby, chubby cheek, one more hug around my neck, one more lullaby while they sleep so innocently in my arms... to prolong that moment so that it will be recorded forever, a never forgotten and tangible moment I can carry with me for the rest of my life.  They aren't even grown up yet and I am thinking of when it will be gone, probably because I know that one day it will be and this is the moment I need and want to cherish.  What a good reminder for me, especially when it gets hard as it always does when you are a parent.  Remember what is really valuable and important what you will cherish most in the end and focus on it.

Today, not written a few days ago

Yes this is a potty training toilet/step stool... it has never been used as a toilet though just a step stool.  Isaac got stuck in it.

Today, Asher walked into our bedroom and said, "Dad listen to my belly music!" while slapping his belly.  Josh told me later that it was a very 'me' thing to do.  It is too, I frequently point out the noise Asher is making and say, "look, your making music" as he slams the stick against the playground metal bars.  All the other mothers there are secretly thanking me for encouraging him to make such beautiful 'music'.

Because we laughed, Asher wanted his fair share of the attention and got himself  'stuck' in the toilet too.

Earlier, Isaac went over to the coach and swiped Josh's book off the back of it.  In surprise Josh asked, "Did you just knock the book off, Isaac?"  Responding quickly, Isaac said, "Noooooo."  He is only one and already he is learning to cover his tracks.  It is more fascinating to me, as a mother, because he actually doesn't talk very much.  He will say words, but not consistently and he won't repeat himself for your pleasure, or even just to guarantee he said what he said.  So sometimes, you are left wondering if he really did just say, "Bye, Uncle Willie."

He says hi more like hau.

What Isaac does

Isaac is so cuddly.  I love it.  He will come up to me when I am laying on the floor and lay down on top of me.  Of course, I start to tickle him and blow raspberries on his little belly which makes him laugh and then I laugh.  So sweet.

There isn't a thing he won't try to do, especially if he sees Asher do it first.

He is most proud of himself if he can climb up onto something.  He will stand on the object he has just conquered and stick out his belly in satisfaction and then pat it with his little hands.  Once he has done this little ritual he will move onto whatever motivated him to climb up in the first place.  Like spilling the class of milk left on the table, or dumping out half a jar of Costco pepper ( Costco is relevant because of the size).  One morning, Josh and I were in our room when Asher came running in, "Isaac is on the table!"... I thought he said something about the cable... Josh went rushing into the room and yes, indeed, Isaac had crawled up onto the black kitchen table under the window.  It is with frequency that I pry him off kitchen table too, he of course heads to the fragile decorations I have sitting on top of it.

Lately, Asher and he have been running around playing dogs together, panting and chasing each other and hiding behind makeshift forts (the kitchen chairs turned over)... sometimes, I will catch Isaac randomly starting to pant and smiling really big at his fun game.

It is nice that they are such good friends, not perfect friends but good friends.  Asher does have the bad habit of grabbing things from Isaac and playing mom, even when I say it is okay for Isaac to do something.  Isaac on the other hand wants whatever it is Asher is doing which causes some conflict.  There are times though when both boys are amenable to sharing and do it well and happily.