Kessa

"I sure are!"

"I'm cold with envy."

"Is it my first day of preschool?" (every day)

All my fault

Elly, 2 am: "Mommy, you have to cuddle me, because I had a bad dream, and in the dream you were the one who did something wrong."

Donovan's 2 month checkup

Well, it actually happened on December 1, but I bailed on writing in. At his appointment, Donovan was 23 inches, and 12 lbs 5 oz, between 50th and 75th in both. Dr. Kerr said he is doing marvelously. He got a DTaP shot. (I love that Dr. Kerr and I are totally on the same page - she thought that was an excellent choice for a single shot, and agrees with me that next month's single shot should be HiB.) And that's a wrap.

Cute Elly

Wow did Elly have a cute night.

First: "Star light, star bright, wishing star I see tonight, I wish my father could always not go to work and stay home all day and all night, all the nights and days."

Later, "Mommy, I see Mars!"

And at bedtime:

Me: "You are the perfect child for me."
Elly: "Does that mean you will get rid of Kessa because I am the perfect child? NOOOOO, you wouldn't do that. You love Kessa too much." (I then explained to her that Kessa and Donovan are also the perfect children for me, and I am lucky to have 3 children that are just right for me. I tried to explain that I loved each of them for who they were and loved how different they were but she wouldn't let me finish because she was kissing me too much.)

Then, in reference to who would do her check-ons and cuddles: "Mommy, Daddy, Aunt Katie, Mommy, Daddy, Aunt Katie. And if you go to bed, Daddy, Aunt Katie, Daddy, Aunt Katie. And if Daddy goes to bed, Aunt Katie, Aunt Katie, Aunt Katie, Aunt Katie. And if Aunt Katie goes to bed, I'll just cuddle myself."

More, more, more!

Eliana and I were eating lunch together the other day.

Elly: "Mommy, you'd better not eat too much or another baby will grow in your belly."

Me: "Oh, well I certainly don't want to eat too much so I don't get a stomachache, and you're right that babies in the belly need their mamas to eat a lot of food, but eating a lot of food wouldn't make another baby grow in my belly."

Elly: "Oh."

Me: "And we're not going to have any more babies, but I'm surprised to hear you say you don't think we should."

Elly: "Yes I do think you should. I want you to have as many children as Miss Hannigan!"

Me: "Wow! That's a lot! You know, Miss Hannigan didn't actually HAVE all those children, she is just in charge of them."

Elly: "I know, but that's how many children you and daddy should have."

Me: "Well, the government gives Miss Hannigan money to take care of those children, but Daddy and I only have the money that we make from work to take care of you, and if we had that many children, we wouldn't have enough money for all of you to have toys and do fun things like swim lessons, and maybe not even enough money for all of us to have enough to eat."

Elly: "Oh. Then how about just a couple more?"

Totems

I've always seen broad similarities between Judaism and Native American life: peoplehood, culture, law, and spirituality all wrapped into one. For a long time I thought the particulars were completely different, especially of the religious aspects, until I started seeing similarities between animism and Kabbalah. I always felt drawn toward the part of Kabbalah that speaks of the divine spark being in all things, and frankly whenever I'm in nature, I understand animism.

Totems have no such sister in Judaism, and I'd never felt truth when reading about them, but if there is any truth in totems, my totem would be birds.

OK, so that doesn't quite jive with the traditional view - I should say "eagle" or "heron" and be a little more specific. But no, for me it's birds. At several junctures in my life, a bird has arrived on the scene, and not of the same species each time. First I didn't see any meaning in my bird sightings. Not even when I saw four bald eagles up in Whistler did I listen to the stillness in my heart. I figured it was some odd patriotism reaching up from my depths, or awe at seeing a rare and beautiful bird.

Next came the condor. California condors are exceedingly rare, huge vultures. It was on my first drive home to Sacramento after Eliana was born that we were driving in the car and I saw one out my window. I couldn't believe it, I thought it must have just been a large turkey vulture, but as I came closer, it was at least twice the size of any turkey vulture I'd ever seen. Much later I realized that just before I'd rounded that bend in the road, I'd been shaken out of my sadness about my birth experience with the epiphany that my husband gave me half a cell and I wove a miracle from it.

And a year ago, I met with a woman who has become a friend, and looked up as we were talking to see a white barn owl. (This might not be remarkable except for where we live and the fact that I've never seen one before or since.) By now I was starting to pay attention when visited by a bird, and I thought maybe it was a blessing on new friendship. That may well be right on its own, but now feels even more significant in that this woman is a midwife and here I embark on my own path to midwifery.

Likewise, today's visit speaks to birth and beginnings. And endings. While walking home from Elly's school, pushing Donovan in the stroller, I was thinking about his birth, coming to terms with its imperfections and with the end of my time as a pregnant mother or birthing woman. And out of the sky dropped a hawk, who landed on the tree right in front of me. I stopped and watched him. He hopped on his big raptor claws onto a bush below, then flew back into the tree. I stood there with Donovan, looking from him to the bird, wondering what he was here to tell me. He flew away and I took the long route home, still sorting out his message. I didn't settle on one... but I do feel better.

So totems. I still don't know whether there is truth to them. The rational Westernized me thinks these events are simple coincidences. But while I keep both feet firmly on the ground, I'll continue to take note when a powerful bird visits... to sit still for a moment and think.

The (un)reality of death

Eliana does not like the concept of death. Never has. But as she gets older it gets more real, deeper, and the fear is greater.

Olympia, the cat I'd had since I was nine, died a couple of months ago, and this week was our first trip to my parents house since then. I'd decided to wait til she noticed Olympia was gone to tell her. She didn't react very strongly, just an "Ohhhh. Why did she die?" and seemed to accept our explanation that she was very old. (Very.)

Then yesterday as we left Modesto after Thanksgiving I parked in front of my grandma's tree for a few minutes. We planted this tree when she died 19 years ago at the age of 51. She would have turned 70 a week ago. So I sat there and Elly asked me what we were doing. I explained it to her. (She already knows about Grandma Linda.) She thought that sounded like a nice idea and asked me if I would plant a tree for her when she died. I said I hoped I would die first because I was older than her and I wanted her to be very very old before she died, and that I hoped I would also be very very old before I died.

Then tonight, I heard her crying over the baby monitor and I went to hug her. She said about 2 minutes worth of explanation that I could not make out. Finally I asked her to repeat herself and I figured out that she was saying she was sad because someday Grandma was going to die. She said, "I want grandma to live forever." I said, "Oh me too honey. It's sad that everybody dies, but grandma is not sick and she is not old and she will be here for a long long time." She said, "But I can't stop thinking about when she dies." I said, "Well, try to think about what you're going to do with Grandma tomorrow." She said, "I just told you, I can't stop thinking about when she dies." (I would've laughed if she hadn't been so pathetic.) "OK, would it help if Grandma comes to give you a cuddle now?" "Yes!"

Poor baby. It must be so overwhelming at her age to think about loss. I hope it's a long time before she has to feel a loss.

You'll poke your eye out

Eliana got a new pencil at school today, and she wanted to carry it on the walk home. I made her promise that she would only walk, and not run, skip, or gallop. (These things must be distinguished.) She asked, "why can I not run?"

Me: "Because you could fall and poke your eye out with the pencil."

Elly: "Ouchie. And then you'd have to take me to the hospital so they could make me a new eye."

Me: "Well, honey, they don't make new eyes."

5 minutes pass.

Elly: "But I know how to make a new eye. You take some jello and you make it white, and you make it into half a circle. Then you get some more jello and you make it the color of your eyes, and you put it together, and you smoosh it into your eye."

Me: "Oh. Well, you're right, they can make fake eyes that would make you look like you had an eye, but you still wouldn't be able to see."

Elly: "Oh sure, Mommy, all you have to do is put some seeing juice in the eye."

Eliana at the park, spinning

"I'm going as fast as a shooting star!"

"Mommy, was I so fast that I was just a blur?"

Reflection on the election

The morning of the election, I told Scott, "If McCain wins, I'm going to cry."

As it turns out, I cried anyway.

When the results started being posted on the news websites, I checked in. I tried to distract myself. But unlike the last election, where hid and then went to bed early, I had to keep looking. I tried not to get my hopes up when the early numbers looked good, and I couldn't quite believe the victory was sealed even when the numbers midway through looked fabulous. When the numbers were in the 300's, I finally believed it. And I cried.

I cried with relief, for the hope of a better future, and with the release of all the energy I spent over the past few months trying not to get my hopes up. And later that night, when I clicked to watch Obama's acceptance speech, I watched him and his family walk out and I cried again: with awe and pride that our country has already come this far, for his girls who can look at their father and say "My dad is president" and skin color bedamned, and for my own girls who will grow up with a president who doesn't look like us. I wanted to wake them up and hug them and tell them that the world had changed for the better, but knowing they wouldn't understand I just cried outside their door. Hopefully someday they will be able to understand how important and huge Obama's election is, while still feeling it's normal.