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Jibber Jabber

7/31/2017 2 Comments

Laundry on the Line

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The sun-crisp sheets flutter on the line, but it's the scent that pulls me in.  I want to stand between these sheets in the middle of winter, but this moment will be miles away then.  I fold them, gently, taking my time.  None of the irritation of the usual laundry duties.  This is something different.  An escape into another time if only for a few moments as I just stuff my face into the pillowcase and breathe deep.  But let's be real, I don't hang my wash on the line every time I do it.  This is a once-in-a-summer ritual; this time prompted by an accident in those cute little undies hung out to dry, but it doesn't matter.  Whoever climbs into our bed tonight with us will sleep more soundly in what the sheepish bed-wetter described as a "fresh summer breeze."  Accidents happen, and if that's what it takes for her nasal memory to store up this unforgettably simple moment, then let's remember it as yet another of life's happy accidents.  Breathe in.  

2 Comments

7/26/2017 1 Comment

Disney Done Right

I had been to Disney at 5, 8, 12, 17, and 25. DW had never set foot in California despite his travels throughout the Caribbean. I mean he'd been to Cuba, come on, man! With my parents and sister and bro-in-law along for the ride, it was time to take Z & X at 6 & 4. I was stoked, DW, not so much. He'll take snow and solitude over sun and crowds any day. But, I knew he wanted to go just to see the joy on their faces, and I knew I had won, when, after It's a Small World, he said, "That was worth it," while looking adoringly at Z who could barely stay on the boat she was so excited. When I was 5, that was my favorite, DW had been adamant that he wouldn't even get on it, but he did. What a nice guy.

X got to meet Spider-Man and loved the Cars ride and Peter Pan. If you ask Z her favorite ride, "Matterhorn." Even though we spent an hour and a half in line trying to convince her to go on it, to which she refused; then, the next day she had made up her mind, and now it's her favorite. Did I say an hour and a half? Yes, I did. Now believe me, I researched the shit out of Disneyland before our trip to avoid just such a scenario, 20 pins later, I had my backpack with my wet wipes, an impossibly small folding blanket, a first aid kit, water bottles, and snacks galore, but here we were melting in line, arguing with Z; she leaves with my mom and sister just as we're about to get on, and the ride breaks down. I can see that look on DW's face, smirking, thinking, I won. I roll my eyes, and we make the best of it with a fast pass for any ride we want, right now. So, to Splash Mountain we go while Z, Cissy, and Get are off on their own adventure making memories.


Now, back home, the kids pretend they're on rides and Z talks to the Pooh Bear X got her when he was born about when she met the real Pooh at Disneyland, and I just smile because we won.   These memories will last a lifetime, Z will never forget how "we were all brave together" on Matterhorn Mountain just like I'll never forget how my dad made The Haunted Mansion my favorite ride when I was 5 even though I was in tears as the elevator began to lengthen. If you're going, pack your backpack but don't forget to enjoy the magic. This time, my favorite memory is X riding on daddy's shoulders eating a churro. Nothing like a little pixie dust. I win, love.
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1 Comment

7/24/2017 1 Comment

Sunflowers

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I think I planted them once, and yet here they are again.  Even though I planned and executed raised beds to eliminate weeds in our existing garden, I still can't bring myself to pull them out.  I let them grow inches, then feet, anticipating their bright faces which follow the sun until summer comes to a close.  But then, one day while I was tending to the bird baths and feeders, thinking of nothing at all, enjoying the bliss of a nothing-to-do day, the kids happily playing in the garden at a game of their invention, I glanced up and realized their game was decimation.  All but six of the self-seeded picnic-for-birds had been ripped out by the roots.  In July, not even the middle of it.  "Why did you do that?!" a sadness settling in my gut and on their faces; how can I explain this?  There aren't words for why I even care with which I can help our children understand.  So, I dig holes, put them back in the ground, and the kids just watch.  I say nothing.  There's nothing to say--it wasn't malicious.  In fact, they say they were in the way of the other plants, which they were, admittedly, but I want their wildness, both of theirs:  children and flowers to seed itself like kindness.  So, later, I tell them this, "Ask yourself, is it kind?  If the answer is no, don't do it."  It's plain; it' simple.  The sunflowers will come back, or they won't.  It doesn't really matter, but knowing how to set your own circadian rhythm to the heliotropism of kindness will make more that just your own days brighter. 
1 Comment

    S.M.(M).L.

    A farm girl, a lake girl, a nature girl raising sweet babies to be kind humans takes a lot of patience.  Writing about the day-to-day brings the clarity it takes.  This is that.  Share your story if you can relate.

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