Baby Squish

Tonight
I held a baby
He kicked
His happy legs

He watched
My mouth
Intent
On my nonsense
Words

He waved
Chubby hands
Patting my cheeks
And chest

He smiled,
And squeezed
My heart

Filling
The hole
For a time

Lessons and Likes

*Always carry a bag big enough to hold papers and crafts from church, camera, unwanted bows, etc.

*Keep bag stocked with Kleenex and gum at all times.

*Call it “rest” instead of “nap”.  Less complaint, more sleeping.

*Having to create a seat rotation at the table so that everyone has equal chances to sit by you is a GREAT problem to have.

*Never leave the house without a potty stop.

*When the older girls are big enough to fix breakfast and start the coffee, life is GOOD!

*With four girls, mediation skills are a MUST!

*Nothing like being awakened by sweet little girls sneaking in your bed.

*Make chores a game.

*Positive reinforcement is the best thing for dogs…AND kids.

*Shower time is an exercise in hilarity when two little girls are involved.  Expect streaking and giggeling.

*Always use the special “no hurt” brush.

*Singing makes a long walk shorter.

*Always check the distance before choosing to walk.

*Always pack snacks.

*No matter how tired your feet are, you still have the strength for a piggyback if it means making the trip faster.

*Magic kisses heal all wounds.

*When all else fails, get your “banana hands” ready!

Ivy League

Of all of the plants I enjoy growing, I love ivy best.  One of the most common houseplants, the pothos ivy, add a touch of vibrant green to any room.  My love of ivy began years ago with my mom.  Mom has always loved and grown houseplants.  I’ve watched her water, prune, trim and transplant for as long as I can remember.

Ivy is special to me for several reasons.  The most obvious reason is that they are difficult to kill.  You can forget an ivy for a month, notice it looks wilty, neglect it for another week, water, and in hours, it is perky and full of life again.  It is such a resilient little plant.  If you do not have a green thumb, the ivy is your best friend.

When my family moved from Michigan to Texas, my mom brought her plants.  And they survived.  When I moved from Amarillo back to Houston, it was my ivy that best weathered the climate change and the twelve hour drive complete with spills and squashing.

My favorite thing about the ivy is their rebirth potential.  Growing up, I always watched my mom’s ivy clippings in wonder.  You can cut a portion of the ivy vine from the momma plant, set the clipping in water, and the tiny nodules on the vine will grow into roots.  The longer you leave the ivy in the water, the longer the roots will become.  Once the baby plant is rooted, you can pot it in soil to become a separate and new plant.  One ivy can literally turn into an endless supply for your home, work, and friends.

The best way to make a new pot of ivy is to combine a couple of rooted clipping samples into one pot.  When I moved home, I asked mom for one of her clippings.  It is rare that she doesn’t have a rooting strand of ivy on her bar.  I combined one of her clippings with one of mine to make a whole new pot that now lives at my school.  For me, it symbolizes the deep roots that we have in the Pasadena school district.  It seemed appropriate to have it there.

The ivy that I purchased two years ago in Amarillo has thrived.  It has become a large and lush and vibrant plant.  Since I’ve been in Houston, I’ve started two new plants from it and just clipped some new pieces tonight.

I feel as though my life in the last two years has mirrored my Ama-Ivy.  I had a slow start, and some bumps and spills and squashings.  But two years later, I’ve rooted and grown into a more bright and healthy me.

I’ve decided that I want to continue to be like an ivy.  I want to be able to bounce back quickly from a period of drought.  I want to continue to grow despite climate change and comfort level.  I want to plant seeds in my kids that will root and grow.  I think the ivy as role model is just the thing.

"I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener.  He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit He prunes so that it will be even more fruitful.  You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you.  Remain in me, as I also remain in you."

John 15:1-3

In Pursuit of a Daughter

As I dip one tentative toe into the scary waters of the dating pool, I’ve found that there is one thing that I want most but is also the most difficult for me to allow.  I want to be pursued.  Chased.  And that is difficult.  I’m not terribly patient.  But more than that, I’m a social and outgoing gal, so I find it difficult to hold back and allow someone the opportunity to pursue me.

I’ve actually given this quite a bit of thought lately as I’ve talked to some interesting men and listened to the advice of friends.  It has caused me to think back on my life and history in dating and friendships.  The more I’ve thought about it, the more I’ve come to the conclusion that there is really only one person who has consistently pursued a relationship with me in my life.  I have had some incredible friends over the years and some long relationships.  But generally speaking, I am the initiator of contact in those relationships.  I do not mean this as an insult to my friends, because when I need them, my girls are always there.  And I think it is probably our different personalities that cause me to be the initiator.  It may even be best for it to be this way.  I don’t know.

But there is one person who has NEVER quit pursuing me.  My mom.  We are close.  Losing my dad so young, and it being just she, John, and I when I was in high school and college forged a close bond between us. 

Now don’t get me wrong, Mom and I have traveled a rough road.  There was a time when I was too much the “partner” and not enough the daughter.  But we worked through that and were healthier as a result.  And she never quit trying.

For many years during my marriage, I pushed her away.  I shut her out of anything painful because I needed her to continue to like my husband.  Our relationship suffered.  But she didn’t quit pursuing me.  She held back when she wanted to poke at things, but she was still there.  She knew I was hurting and didn’t know all of the reasons why, but she kept following.  She stayed several paces back behind the wall I created, but she was there.

On the Sunday morning I called in tears to tell her I was leaving a 13 year marriage, she kept right on pursuing.  She didn’t know all the reasons why, but she knew me.  Even from the distance I’d created between us, she knew me well enough to know that if I was leaving, there was reason.  She got in the car the very next morning and pursued me eleven hours across Texas.   And when she got there, she hugged me, loved me, rolled up her sleeves and helped me without asking anything or demanding to know why. 

In the two years since then, my life has completely changed.  Not only did I move closer, but I also let her back in my life.  We are probably closer now than we ever have been.  There have been bumps for sure.  We’ve had to work through the process of some appropriate boundaries and the change of being in close proximity again.  But she still pursues me.  Because she’s my mom.  And that’s what mom’s do.

My mom is an amazing woman.  She survived the loss of the love of her life.  She raised four great kids.  She stood by two of us through terrible and unexpected divorces and one through a terrible, heart breaking loss.  She listens to her kids when we let her in and doesn’t push when we don’t.  She is the best organizer and filer on the planet and will gladly come over and conquer your stacks of paper for a diet coke.  She hauls the grandkids and takes them forgotten homework.  She surprises her daughter in law with loads of washed, dried, and folded laundry and her daughter with a cleaned apartment.  She would do the same for her long distance daughter in law if she were near.  She isn’t a dog person at all but asks me about Lola regularly.  She pets and loves her “grand-dog” because she is her daughter’s “baby”.  And through all of this, she continues the raising of a 25 year old mentally retarded adult.  I could sing her praises for that alone for another twenty pages.

I am phenomenally blessed to have a mom who has never quit pursuing me. 

Love you mom.  Happy Mother’s Day.

Campers Beware!

They say that camping can be bliss

But I say, camp at your own risk!

There are dangers everywhere

From holes in ground to broken chairs.

Something grabbed me in the shelter

Threw me down all helter skelter.

Skinned my knees and broke my foot

Covered my clothes with dirt and soot.

Once a hole attacked poor Allison

Grabbed her foot and pulled her downison.

A long board threw our precious Trey

Made his arm and leg bones pay.

Even Scott could not escape

A greenstick fracture was his fate.

Mark and Bev were worst of all

Walking trails made their hearts fall

Marriage was to be their fate

And now we camp with daughter Faith.

So Live!

When I taught American Literature to Juniors in high school, I always taught the poem “Thanatopsis” by William Cullen Bryant.  He was one of our great Romantic poets who often wrote about nature.  “Thanatopsis” is probably his most well known poem and certainly my favorite.  Basically, the poem is about death from the perspective of nature.  We all live, die, and return to the earth.  Whether king or peasant, the roots of trees will pierce our flesh and worms digest us.  Sounds depressing and gross right?

Well, there is more to it than that.  He ends with the following lines:

                        So live, that when thy summons comes to join

                        The innumerable caravan which moves

                        To that mysterious realm where each shall take

                        His chamber in the silent halls of death,

                        Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,

                        Scourged by his dungeon; but, sustain'd and soothed

                        By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave,

                        Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch

                       About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.

At the end, he concludes (very loosely) that if we are all bound for the same destiny, we have nothing to fear.  And therefore, we should approach death “sustain’d and soothed” rather than with dread.

And that’s all fine and good.  Obviously, as a Christian, I have fairly different ideas about the afterlife.  And my beliefs do allow me to approach death without fear.  But death isn’t actually the point I’m trying to make at all.  Seriously…stay with me.

My favorite part of the whole piece is the two little words that start the conclusion, “So live”.  I don’t think the comma after the words is accidental.  We poets use our commas and periods very carefully.  We only place them where we want a pause, a break.  And much of the time, we want our reader to pause for a reason.  I typically pause when I want to make a point.  Or when I want you to really think.

I think the entire message of this poem about death is not death at all.  It’s life!  So LIVE, he says.

Too much of the time, we spend our lives not truly living, but sort of strolling through in a trance.  Do you ever drive home from work, and when you get there, wonder how you did because you don’t remember the trip?  THAT’S what I’m talking about.

I do not want to go through life wondering how I got there.  Wherever “there” is.  I don’t want to get to the end and fear.  I don’t want to get to the end and regret.  I don't want to get to the end and wonder how I got there.  I want to truly be present in my own life.

I was talking to a friend this weekend about how much we enjoy doing “nothing”.  I spend a LOT of time doing “nothing”.  Games, Facebook, watching television, can all be “nothing”.  Not necessarily, but they can. 

Recently I’ve sort of unplugged.  I haven’t played WoW in weeks.  The last two weekends I haven’t watched more than a few hours of television.  I’ve cleaned, listened to music, spent time with Lola, watched softball, cooked for friends, read, started writing more seriously, connected with some new people…to name just a few things.

I’m sure that I’ll keep watching television and playing computer games.  I’ll read books and wile away hours on Facebook.  But, I also want to make sure I’m really present in my own life. 

I want to “So live,”…

Just Another Day

Parents fighting
Tires slashed
Resolve to leave
Never lasts

Teen mom
Missing daughter
Mother in law
Saboteur

Skipping class
Geometry fear
Mom’s tough love
More shed tears

AP classes
So much work
Fear of failure
No self worth

Fear success
Procrastinate
To cope with stress
Alienate

Student transfer
Sad, sad tune
Transfer revoked
A liar’s doom

Thinking twice
‘bout my life
It’s another day
In paradise.

 
Yesterday was a little crazy and exhausting.  But I love it still.  And as I was reflecting on it, Phil Collin's "Another Day in Paradise" came to mind.  As tough as the day was, I left here and went to the doctor for a regular check up, paid my $25 copay and got to see him.  Not only do I have insurance, I also have the money to pay the copay. 
 
Then I went home where I was greeted by Lola who thinks I'm God's gift to canine's...this after being crated all day.  Then I opened my refrigerator and pulled out food, which I never lack for.  I heated it in my handy microwave.  Watched DVR'd programming while I ate it.  And relaxed with my laptop in my recliner.  Took Lola for a walk around a lake in my cozy complex.  Then went to bed in my comfy bed with fancy sheets and covers.
 
Yep.  I've got it pretty good indeed.