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Monday, July 30, 2007
I have found that when I least expect them, and most need them, I am gifted with what I call “Moments of Grace.” They are moments that to an outside eye would appear rather ordinary, but in truth they are quite extraordinary.
One moment happened when Alex was about 18 months old. I was bustling about doing chores while Alex was happily chattering away doing happy toddler things. I was pretty tired when I finished and plopped down on the floor next to him. He toddled over to me with a big smile, climbed into my lap, put his arms around my neck and hugged me tight. I wrapped my arms around him and slowly rocked us back and forth.
Neither one of us said a word and I was filled with the most incredible feeling of peace and contentment. It was truly other-worldly and almost palpable. The rays of morning sun came through the window and bathed us in warmth as we rested in the quiet moment. I remember it in exact detail to this day.
Another such moment of grace occurred the other night.
It was about 9:00 at night and I was in bed reading when Alex got home from work. Usually we exchange greetings and he goes into his room, shuts the door and talks to the friend-girl until the wee hours.
Since it has been a tumultuous summer for us (to say the least) I was surprised that for some reason he decided to talk to me instead. And - get this - he actually came into my room and sat next to me on the bed! We chatted for a good ten minutes about things of no great consequence, but of great importance. His friend’s tendency to always wear a hat, the fact he is the only one at his job that doesn’t have blue eyes, the proper way to peel shrimp, and the number of pages in the latest Harry Potter book.
It was another true Moment of Grace. It came at the end of a stressful week and during a tense period in our mother/son relationship. The fact we were having any civil conversation at all was so refreshing!
I had that same feeling of being watched over from above, and being sent a message that love for our children really does bear all things.
By Richie Ann Ashcraft
Friday, July 27, 2007
Here's your chance to officially guess my new baby's time and due date. Unlike most pools these guesses are free and there is no limit to the number of guesses you can make. Just leave each guess in an individual comment so it doesn't get confusing for us.
Not that it will because Robin has plans to make a spreadsheet and everything. I was just gonna scribble it down on a desk calendar but she's all fancy so it's gonna be totally fair!
We'll scrounge up a small prize for the winner which Robin will happily drop in the mail. (Yes, I'm an alien and I've sucked Robin's brain and made her my slave....eeeek eeek eek...or whatever evil noise aliens make.)
My official due date is Aug. 20.
Guess Away Folks!
By Robin Dearing
Thursday, July 26, 2007
On our way home late one evening last week, Margaret started talking about how much she loved cars and how easy they made our lives and how they protect us from brain-sucking aliens ...
Screech ... what? Brain-sucking aliens?
I had only been half-listening to her ode to cars, but became fully engaged once the idea that my SUV would save me from having my gray matter Hoovered out of my skull by green, space aliens.
I decided that this would be a good time to dispel the myth that there is such inherent evil in our universe and that aliens would gain little from partaking in some homo sapien cranium tartare.
Me: Why would the aliens want to eat our brains?
Mar: Because they're mean and bad and they want to suck our brains.
Me. It makes no sense that a group of aliens — who don't even know us — would want to be so mean to us.
Mar: You know, it's like how it used to be a long time ago when white people had black people as slaves.
I was stunned. She used a horrific example from history to bolster her argument about brain-sucking aliens. Needless to say, I had no reply. Her analogy was watertight.
I was humbled by my child once again.
By Richie Ann Ashcraft
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
I told myself that after vacation I'd have to kick it into gear and start getting things ready for this new baby. This nesting thing
is a strong instinct once it begins. I'm in the midst of gathering the twigs, if you will.
First, I had to make a new big boy room for Soren. I just HAD to get this done before the new baby arrived. He's not ready to leave the nursery quite yet, but I wanted his room ready when he was. It's no hurry really but by Christmas I'd like to see him sleeping full time in his new room. Any suggestions for making a smooth transition? Or helpful hints about decorating a big boy room?
Other nesting includes gathering of baby supplies like pacifiers, bottles, the pump parts, finding the receiving blankets and various other things this new boy will need. It's not like I can't find that stuff after his arrival, but I just feel as though things need to be a little more organized before the big day.
Then of course there is the cleaning. For some reason every mother wants to bring their new baby into a spic and span house.
And I also want to leave coworkers here at the DS in a good position while I'm gone. So needless to say, I've been busy and there is a lot on my mind.
Including things for this blog. So, here are some things I've been meaning to share with everyone. Bear with me, I'm basically just emptying a junk drawer in my brain. I guess it's a little blog nesting.
I have an internet friend. I never thought I'd make a friend online but I sort of have and we've invited her to be a guest blogger while I'm gone. Blondemom
will fill in for me and I will try my hardest to post a little something occassionally. And, at the end of the week we will begin a little baby pool here on Haute Mamas so come back and check it out.
I just wanted to say what a great bunch of women the members of MOMs
are. They were recently in the news after Paige Bergfeld
, one of the founding members, turned up missing. Within days they had organized a candlelight vigil and helped with the search efforts. Bergfeld seemed to have touched many as a good friend and they were right there to help in return. MOMs seems to be more than just your typical playdate group. I hope there is some closure for everyone soon.
I recently met Tamara Green from Portland, Ore. She's the owner of Servello Body
, a really nice line of all natural beauty products she handmakes herself. Check it out and support a sistah's small business instead of a corporate one!
has so much to offer. I don't always have the time to acquaint myself with all the new functions of our site, but was pleasantly surprised to find the Connet With Kids
link. It has some great safety videos that all parents will appreciate.
I own this thing and thanks to Parents
magazine I found out it has a recall because one of the toys presents a chocking hazard. Visit GRACO
if you own one to have a new toy sent to you.
Hmmm...what else? For now that should be enough. If this baby comes tomorrow at least I'll know that I shared all this stuff that's been cluttering my brain.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
I guess the monsoon season has begun.
We were gathered at Highline Lake for an impromptu picnic yesterday afternoon and watched the sky warily as the lightning flashed around. Eventually the kids came out of the water, (hey, there were lots of people still in there) and decided to pack up before we got caught in what was sure to be a downpour.
Alex, his friend Nick, and I were mesmerized by the lightning flashes and ever-darkening skies on the drive back home. OK, I was mesmerized. The boys were busy taunting each other about who didn’t say what to some "hot chick" they saw at the lake.
As we got to the Fruita exit, we approached the infamous Colorado Wall Of Weather. A couple sprinkles hit the windshield and then all hell broke loose. I think we got an entire year’s worth of precipitation in the next 4 or 5 miles. Holy cow. The sky was as dark as I’ve ever seen it here, and the lightning show was awesome. The boys were still dissing each other until we pulled onto Ridges Boulevard and they saw the virtual moat that formed near the drainage area.
“Oh man! Dude, check it out! Dude that’s awesome!”
“Stop the car, we gotta go in that!”
Yep, when you’re 15 and in your bathing suit already, a temporary lake is too hard to resist. So I pulled over and the two stooges got out and frolicked in what was at least a foot and a half of water. I was a bit concerned they would get sucked through the drainage pipe, until I realized they would wash out four feet away. Other drivers-by witnessed their impromptu swim and were laughing as they drove by to higher ground.
The lightning started up again and they got in and we drove home, only to discover a pond had formed in the cul-de-sac.
“Dude, we can ride our bikes through it!”
“Dude, we can hydroplane!”
“Dudes, you’re gonna wreck,” I muttered to myself.
I had to laugh at the sheer goofiness of it all. They pedaled and sloshed through the pond numerous times splashing and laughing. Then I heard Alex yelp, followed by a few moments of silence, followed by hysterical laughter from Nick, followed by hesitant laughter from Alex, followed by a “You better not have wrecked your bike!” from me.
I crossed over to the pond and saw Alex lying half-submerged in the murky water with his bike on top of him. “Are you OK?” I asked, trying not to laugh.
“I hydroplaned!” he yelled with glee.
“You’re also bleeding all over.”
“Dude, that was so funny!” Nick laughed.
After determining everything was more or less in one piece, including the bike, we headed into the house for dry clothes.
It got me thinking about boys and their reactions to accidents. They laugh and joke at each other and say things like “Your leg was at this funny angle when you landed, and like you could see your face all up in the air, and then like you were flying through space and it was so funny!”
Girls don’t do that. They get all concerned and Florence Nightingale takes over. We don’t get any joy out of crashing or wrecking. We don’t like the sight of blood, or limbs twisted at unnatural angles.
I like the boy’s approach of less drama, more humor. Knowing that of course if it was serious, they’d respond appropriately.
Oh, yeah, not a single drop of rain fell at Highline Lake.
By Robin Dearing
Monday, July 23, 2007
We just got back from our first tent camping trip in over five years. And guess what? It rained.
We decided to stick close to home and camp up on Grand Mesa. Bill and the kids went up early on Friday and I followed with our friends, Rob and Tracee after work.
It rained and hailed and thundered all afternoon on the Mesa. By the time we got there, the kids were asleep in the car and Bill was huddled our screened tent.
"I sure am glad that we sold that trailer," Bill grumbled as we pulled up.
Fortunately, Rob, Tracee and I didn't care that it was raining. We were out of the heat of the valley and sitting around in the damp cold was much more inviting than another weekend baking in the valley. The rain abated in time for us to start a fire and enjoy the evening.
Saturday was beautiful — until the afternoon when the loudest thunderstorm I've ever experienced tumbled over the top of us. Mar and I took the opportunity to snuggle in our sleeping bags and wait it out. Bill was left out in the cold again, tending his pot of chili, which was ready to eat, just as the rain stopped.
We spent the weekend paddling Bill's Scanoe (it’s not just a canoe, it’s a Scanoe) around the tiny reservoir next to our camp, looking for mushrooms, fishing (Mar caught the biggest fish of the weekend) and tending our campfire (which we've perfected into an art).
We also picked up a lot of trash. I was amazed at how slovenly people are. When we arrived, our campsite was a mess with garbage and fish parts strewn everywhere. By the time we left, we're proud to say, it was spic and span. I can't imagine enjoying the beauty that our surroundings have to offer and yet leaving it such a mess.
Click over here to see more pictures.
Friday, July 20, 2007
really p i ss es me off.
And what really makes me mad is that I can’t write about why I’m so mad because I don’t have the patience or the temperament to say “alleged” this and “alleged” that. And whatever I really want to say right now would likely get me in trouble with the corner office.
Because some of what I really want to say is how the hell could this happen? How do you tear up a baby’s body with your teeth because you're upset his mother has to go to work? How can you be a baby’s mother and not have some idea that your husband just might
have an anger management problem that he just might
take out on your
Because really, it could all be a big mistake. Brandon Moore just might be a victim of being teased on the playground, or he might have ADD, or some other psychobabble disease and really shouldn’t be held accountable for biting a baby to death after he bashed him around a little during his nighttime bath on the eve of his second birthday.
The Daily Sentinel got numerous letters to the editor and You Said Its
when some boys killed a cat a couple months back and I’ll bet twenty bucks we don’t get anywhere near the outrage because some piece of crap human being allegedly killed a baby named Logan.
Yeah, I’m mad. And I hope you are too.
By Richie Ann Ashcraft
Thursday, July 19, 2007
The last few weeks I've noticed a huge leap in my kid's cognitive abilities which is totally annoying.
I used to roll my eyes when other parent's would say things like "You'll wish they never learned to talk." Uh...I'm an idiot eye-roller because they were so right.
My kid is currently nonstop babble machine repeating repeating repeating everything he hears. At 2 a.m. he calls from his room "All Done, All Done, All Done!" He stomps through the house screaming his own moniker, "SoJo, SoJo, SoJo," cheering himself on in an imaginary foot race across the living room...where he crashes into the sofa headfirst because he was looking at his own feet.
And yes, everything is repeated in sets of three. He names everything he sees or asks "Wuzdat, wuzdat, wuzdat" or "whatdo, whatdo, whatdo" until he gets an answer. And it's all very loud. "DOGEE, BURD, MAWNMOW (lawnmower), MOMEL (watermelon), AZEE (cousin), NOOOO, THUICE, SEE, and of course, MOMEEEEE, MOMEEE, MOMEEE!
And he's just such a boy
about it. He stomps things, hits things with sticks, takes his pants off, and is completely fearless. He learned to climb last week and now climbs on the dining room table every chance he gets. He reaches his hand up to countertops searching blindly for anything to pull down. He pulls things from cabinets and flings them across the kitchen. His baths must have BUBBLES, BUBBLES, BUBBLES! He's constantly underfoot and SHOUTING, SHOUTING, SHOUTING.
Oh, and he hits people and fishhooks noses too so watch out.
It's gonna drive this mother nuts I tell ya.
Apparently it's a common problem in many households...this TALKING, TALKING, TALKING, by children. Kate
at Mama Drama
has the same problem...and she's pregnant....weird Internet twins?
By Robin Dearing
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
It's hard, sometimes, to write for this blog. Not because there's too little going on, but because there is too much.
I want to whine and fuss and stomp my foot over a bunch of stuff going on, but no one wants to hear about it ... especially me. It's been so all consuming that I'm bogged down by it all, walking through quicksand, just going through the motions ... slowly.
Last night as I lay motionless on the sofa watching an episode of Miami Ink,
I noticed this out of the corner of my eye:
Mar was playing with her toys in her room, carefree. First, I was envious, then I was buoyed. She's been having such a great summer.
She spent two weeks with her family in New York, she's attending a great day camp filled with her friends. She gets to sleep in and spend her days with her dad. Our evening are filled with bike rides, trips to the pool. We play games and color.
And she gets to walk her electronic dog while wearing a feather boa skirt and a Jiffy Pop hat:
Who would have thought that seeing a panty-clad girl playing a recorder — loudly and off key — would remind me of just how good things are.
By Richie Ann Ashcraft
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
It's funny how memories are made. You'd think that big events would be committed to memory easily and in some part are though often our brains lack the details. And then other flashes of days gone by are exactly that...a brief second of your life forever committed to the hippocampus.
Sometimes just as it is occurring you know that you will remember it forever and unconsciously decide to pay extra attention so that you remember it just right.
A moment like this occurred on Shipwreck Beach
last week. My husband and I had a moment of privacy on the shore and shared a gentle smack on the lips while the waves lapped at our feet. Soren was in his dad's arms beaming and clapping for his parent's show of spontaneous affection.
We tried to kiss him too but he answered with a stubborn "no" and shook his head back and forth so that planting him with some lips was impossible. He reached out grabbing the back of both of our heads and pushed our faces together so that we would kiss again. We did and he laughed in delight, repeatedly pushing us together until all of us were laughing happily. It's as if he has an innate sense that this kissing between his parents is a very very good thing.
Setting him on his feet he chased a seagull making a "baa baa baa" noise in mimick of the irritated bird. We watched him silently, our arms around each other, wondering how we ever lived without him; how lucky we are to have each other and such a sweet little boy.
I know I won't remember the car ride or the screaming or the random hotel rooms, but I hope I always remember those few minutes on the beach and that memory brings me comfort and happiness sometime in the future.