Celebrating the Scarf

I am a new knitter. I've been a new knitter for about 18 years. All I have really ever made are scarves: two for old boyfriends WAY back in my twenties, then one for each of my oldest three kids, one for a niece, and one for a nephew that I just finished today. I need to make one more for my littlest boy, but then my ambitions are rising. A poncho, a sweater, hats, mittens, leg warmers. I've practically made them in my mind. But, for now, I'll celebrate my scarves.

Facination Bowl

John is thick in the fascination bowl phase. Jeff gets the credit for this creation. We throw all the little things cluttering our floors into a bowl and give it to John to explore. It's amazing how Jeff can organize our life AND give us all something to laugh about with just a word. It perfectly captures John's sentiment (or June's or Clara's or Will's before him) as he grabs, flips, throws, gnaws and slobbers on all the facinating contents.

A Puzzle

Communication is an interesting thing in our household right now. I'm not talking about the "communication" that merits "consequences," though there is plenty of that. I mean just old fashioned conveyances. We have a complicated system of reporters, scientists, psychics, artists and spies, all within our four walls.

For example, Will was sick today. He is in his bedroom on one side of our single floor house, equiped with a bell to ring for help. I'm on the other side of the house getting ready for the day, when June the reporter comes in with dramatic gesticulation, saying that he needs me. Now. He's ringing the bell. He wants something. He's sick. He NEEDS you. While she leads the parade back to her brother's room, still gesticulating, and now doing her prissy walk and slight turn to make sure everyone follows, Clara the scientist asks 1,000 questions: What is it? What does Will want? What's he doing? What did June just say? Finally I get to Will the instigator: What's up? He smiles sickly, but proudly at his busy entourage and the drama that took place between his call and my arrival. He's fine. He wants ginger ale.

Then suddenly, everyone is a nurse. Or a patient. Or both. Hmmmm. Ginger ale. Clara's feels SOOOO sick. June can't walk. Clara wants to help. June will happily carry it to him.

Anyway, with a sick household, our creation for the day was a meager start at a 750 piece puzzle. Mostly, though, we read and read and read and read. Yet even reading renders twisted communication. I am astounded by Will's patience. For example, June's magnetism when playing "Mamas and Babies" pulls Clara away from such a sedentary activity as reading, but she can't stand not to know what's happening. So, as I read to Will, about every four pages, she comes over and desparately needs a synopsis. Or she asks pointed questions that practically call for rereading the entire chapter. The entire book!

Meanwhile, with Clara playing the decoy, June spies on John. Asleep. And then not asleep. And then June must go rescue him. She pouces into his crib, throws up the curtain, and comforts the frightened creature in her lap. Until Clara calls: Mom, John woke up. He's crying. He NEEDS you. Why does June always get to hold him first?

Thinking of Sam

It is not always easy to have pets when you have young kids. Sometimes when sleep is short and patience is low, a cat that scratches on doors all through the night can push one over the edge. Especially when one parent is allergic. But we've stuck it out with my little Sam, who lived to the ripe old age of 16 years. He has been missing now for two days and nights. Given his feeble state and the lurking fox, I don't think we'll be seeing him again. I will miss him. It will take a long time for his spirit to move on, because I'll be feeling him for a long time - listening for his morning meow, missing his presense while I put babies to sleep, answering his scratch on the door to come in and out, and warming my lap at night after the other lap warmers are asleep.

In Sam's honor, we created this memorial.

Sparkle and Shine

All day, I had a song that I love stuck in my head: "Sparkle and Shine" by Steve Earle. The reason? Today we created shiney, sparkling spaces. I tend to be challenged in this area. So I got some help, and helped, too: Our friend Monica cleaned our house, while I cleaned Will's classroom at school, a biannual parental responsibility to keep costs down.

At school, I cleaned for two hours straight with an awake child on my back. He supervised my work as he leaned over to one side to see what I was vacuming, leaned to the other to see what I was sweeping, and wiggled around while I bent up and down to pick things up. His least favorite part was scrubbing the floor on hands and knees - mine, too! Another child sprayed desks, windows, floors - anything within a 2-foot radius. Another child vacumed, organized trips to the recycling, and constructed with cubes. Another child snooped around and reported what went where.

Since I can't keep my own house clean, it sounds Herculean to clean a place where18 kids live during the day, WITH my four kids. Other parents marvel - or maybe they actually doubt. But, I honestly love doing it. And so do my kids. I learn about this place where my son spends so much time. John gets constant body heat. The older kids get to feel like they own the place for a couple of hours. They even get to run in the halls as we return the cleaning supplies to their place when we are done. (Clara lit up when I said she could and ran with such an added awareness of the thrill. Uh, oh.)

And THEN, I got to home to a clean house. No more chunks of toothpaste all over the sink. (Too bad I didn't get a picture of that!) No more toilets that pay the price of green flushing. No more cinnamon all over the carpets. No more clutter all over the island. OK, all over everywhere. I immediately think of all the projects I want to do in all this clean space! Then I remember, that's largely what cluttered it all up in the first place. As my very organized sister counsels, one thing at a time.

Magic Wand

Our creations today were two magic wands, which then made many other creations. It's amazing how the second June places it in her hand, she instantly knows what to do. Her feet start to skip, arms flitter up and down, her head is held high, and she floats across the room. Then it's Clara's turn. Wand in hand makes her spin. (Everything makes her spin!) Then she chose to play some music (the Proclaimers) and dance.

Names

We've had so many wonderful names float through our household, as do all homes with children. I have to honor some of ours here, so they don't slip away:

The original, and often used name of old was "Gawry." Will came up with it, and couldn't let it go. It claimed babies, imaginary people, animals, anything. Other Will names included Mimi and Mellow (two look-alike babies), Evergreen, and Cushion.

An all-time favorite of mine by Clara is "Chloe Lovey Tree." Clara latched early onto the name Chloe, but she does also tend to free associate. Some of her babies are "Tree" and "Window" and "Wool" (for Wolfie) or "Hor" for her horse.

Now June is in the mix with names like "Chloe Louise," a testament to her admiration of her sister, Clara Louise. But June also likes names such as "Sparkle," "Sunshine," and "Rainbow," which are very fitting to her.

Today, Sparkle and Sunshine, two butterflies who flew to the Cayman Islands and back today, traveling between grandmothers and with many babies. I was the grandmother butterfly in Boulder, at home making a winter soup.

We spent the long weekend skiing (a first for our family, though of course not all skied), skating, and sledding. Sadly though, any joy was shadowed by the tragedy in Haiti. It is difficult to reconcile. We watched a little bit on the Sunday Morning show, and the next day, Clara asked, "Mom, is your morning show true?" Her truth is Chloe Lovey Tree and Sparkle. I wish I could she could stop there, at least for a while.

Barefoot in the snow

Birds and Floating Es

The kids got lots of art-making stuff for Christmas, and I LOVE it! Every day, they are grabbing from the art chest and heads down drawing for LONG stretches at a time.

Clara pulled out the bird book today. See if you can find a chickadee (her favorite - she whistles in conversation with it as we walk up the street), a warbler, a goldfinch, a bluebird, a wren and a painted bunting.

June learns from (imitates) Clara: grass on bottom, sky on top, full-figured flowers in the middle. June's image also proudly includes a floating "E."

I stitched some ribbon on a some waffle material that the kids painted. I love it when I see these things in use!

Tonight, I followed my routine of putting John to sleep during an episode of Brothers & Sisters tonight. My heart just melts. Long after the show is over, I'm sitting staring at him draped across my chest by the light of the frozen TV, cheeks smushed, lips all pouty, his expression so peaceful, so perfect.

Scones and Sky

We began the day with orange chocolate scones. Clara is perfectly fit for kneading. Her little fingers so naturally belong in a big gooey, edible ball. Lots of chocolate chips made their way to her mouth in the process. June proved to be the master painter. In the final preparations, Clara's true love, I mean her older brother, called her over to observe as he fixed her fairy house. So June stepped in a brushed each scone with cream via a real paintbrush. Later, Clara announced that step didn't really count.

I got to end my afternoon with John. We walked around a frozen lake and soaked in the mountain views.

Phrases

Today's creations were moving parts: Clara's long , skinny legs moving as fast as they could without running as she darted to the slide at the swimming pool. June discovered addition and combined it with her literary background in nursery rhymes, declaring that "two plus two rhymes four." Clara sang "Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way. Oh, what fun it is to cry on a one horse open sleigh. Hey!"

And the dance party. I hope we always have dance parties with abandon. Will's style now is the same as the noble knight who danced at the cabin at age 4 to John Denver. He is either fighting dragons or moving his fee so fast that they'd never catch him. Clara and June dance together like little fairies - holding hands, hugging, tripping over each other, giggling. Then they break apart and Clara flings her limbs every which way, while June does her elegant ballet moves with leaps, pliets, curved arms, pointed toes.

Six Months

June coined some great new phrases today: "This is my favorite sweater in my world!" and "Last night there was a whole moon."

I created some dents in a neighbor's car.

John created a mess - his first encounter with rice cereal!

Big and Small

Today, I expanded the kids' kitchen and Will created a new language. I guess we all have to start somewhere.

A Day in the Kitchen

Today, I sewed a mit for the kids' kitchen. Clara and June and even Will play in it all the time, so I love adding little bits here and there. This morning, I also went ahead and gave June some kid dishes I'd bought for Christmas, but had held back thinking they were too expensive. The price didn't matter though as I watched her play with them all morning. Later today, Clara angrily threw and broke some of the pieces. Oh well.

Holding Babies

Today, the kids created a disappearing machine with tinker toys, a spiral with all the Christmas ornaments, and some very buttery oatmeal raisin cookies.

I've been holding John a LOT. He's six months old on Friday. In my arms is his preferred mode of experiencing the world. And though I do need my arms here and there - to cook, to clean, and sometimes to remain sane, it's actually MY preferred mode for experiencing the world. Holding a baby, that is. As I'm holding him at the end of the night, looking the mirror with him in my arms (because most of the time I can't really see him since he's in my arms), I realize I am obsessed. How do you slow this baby time down? How do you really soak in all in? I realize it's annoying really. You can't talk to me about normal things, details of the day, or even gossip. I just don't really care. All I care about is milking this time. (No pun intended.) He's just so perfect. And right now, he's mine. All mine. (I can pretend.) Any time I want, I get to hold him, squeeze his chubby legs, rub his SO soft head, listen to him make bubbles, feel his sweet breath, smell his baby smell. Mind you, I'm training him I know. To need me, need me, need me. But he's #4. I know it will all work out. Maybe I need to look at him more. Or go on more trips, which I seem to always remember. Or take more pictures (if possible!), or make more videos. I've got to be present. I know that's the answer. I just wish my memory weren't so short.

Thankful

Today, we created thank you notes. June confidently made her own stationary. Will and Clara used their "KidsArt" notes. June drew candy canes, self portraits, and upside-down smiling suns. Will wrote his letters with curls, and after his thank you's wrote, "How are you doing? Love, Will." Clara drafted a few and then declared "I hate thank you notes forever!" The picture perfect moment always has a twist. Here are some of the creations we welcomed today:

A Waffle

Today, we created a waffle...

...and then went ice skating!