would you like a pink crocodile head with that?

This is why I love kids.

For the past two days our living room has been a tattoo parlor. When Bella and Xi were first setting up shop – creating a menu of choices- I wondered silently, hmmmmm, who are the clients going to be? But sure enough, by 9 a.m. they had their first customer:  Echo. With a rainbow blazoned across her chest, a maple tree up one calf, and a river across her palm, Echo continued to pick and choose further additions. And a couple hours later, a drop-by from our friends Romy and Salome, yielded another client. Romy graciously lifted her sweater sleeves to get two new “sleeves” of marker drawn flowers, snowflakes, and hearts. Papa came through for client number three, he picked the always popular rainbow, heart with an arrow through it, and the not always so popular among the inked crowd: pink musical note.

Kids are the very best at rising above the limitations of their situation. They dream big. Early morning in your own living room? Perfect moment to start a tattoo business!

And ooooh, the choices!

Who wouldn’t want a grape jelly bean tattoo? Other choices included: a tree, gum, orange, pink crocodile head, ski jump, tooth, rainbow, horse, rocket, tulip, musical note, sprouting diamond, zig zag, bear head, hand, book, bubble, bindi, and more.

By late afternoon on Sunday, I had to admit, the bear head was looking like a pretty decent choice.

But I couldn’t stop there. The girls’ cool little hands and that tickly scratchy marker felt so good. Like a strange, foreign, forearm massage. I ran out of arm room before I ran out of interest. I thanked them with a handshake for their business and they blushed.

Who am I to doubt? For kids the living room is a tattoo parlor if you want it to be. There are clients around every corner, if you’re looking for them (and aren’t picky about who they turn out to be). And bear heads really are a hot commodity in the skin decoration market, I mean they’re cute, and have a bow ties, and why not? My adult mind, doing dishes in the kitchen, just couldn’t see the vision, but I am so glad their wide open minds could.

yeah!

We had no idea! Picked this magazine out of the mailbox and almost simultaneously got a call from Kris saying she’d heard Feeleez was in Mothering. I quickly paged through and there we were! Yippee!

“tell the children the truth” – bob marley

Simple, neutral, and the truth.

Mom, what are you eating? Chocolate. Can I have some? No.Why not? Because you are just about to go to bed and chocolate has both caffeine and sugar in it, which make it harder for you to sleep, and your body needs that rest.

Mom, why are those ducks hanging on that fence? They are dead. Why? Because the person who lives here went into the woods and shot those ducks while they were flying into the sky. And then after they fell to the ground their dog probably went and got them and brought them back. Later today I think they will most likely chop the head off, pull out the guts, pluck all the feathers out, and have those ducks for dinner.

Where DO babies come from? The mama and the papa make them. How? The papa has the seed and the mama has the egg and together that grows into a baby.

(Thus far we haven’t had to answer the “how the seed gets together with the egg” part but if they asked and we didn’t think they were ready, which we don’t, it would go something like this…) but HOW does the seed get into the mama? Well that part is pretty simple but I would rather tell you about it later. Why? Because there is a lot of other stuff sort of wrapped around that information, and if you aren’t ready for the extra “stuff” then the explanation I give you might be confusing. Huh? I know. I usually tell you everything so this must be frustrating for you. Yah. How old do I have to be before you tell me? I’m not sure. Let’s just see how it goes. Maybe 10?

Why does my Webkinz (virtual pet) “die” after a year? Because they want you to have to buy another one. Why? To make money. Why? That’s what businesses do. If your Webkinz lived forever then you wouldn’t need to buy another one and then that company wouldn’t make as much money.

Nallie, after you help me fall asleep do you just go right to your bed and go to sleep there? No. Huh? I stay up several hours later. Doing Feeleez work on the computer and/or watching a movie with Papa. No fair! Yah, it doesn’t seem fair does it. As you get older your body needs less sleep, so I go to bed after you and wake up at the same time as you. Like after midnight? Ya. Sometimes PAST midnight. Woah!

Mama, what’s that? It’s called a cigarette butt. What’s that? Well right now it’s trash. Somebody lit a cigarette on fire, smoked it, and then threw that part on the ground. Can I touch it? I’d REALLY rather you not. Why? Mostly because I don’t like the smell. Cigarette butts have a very strong smell and if you touch it your fingers will smell that way too.

empathy delivery

Welcome to the weekend friends.

My father and sister have gone and I am so sad. I kissed them goodbye and then sat down to write this as a way of soothing myself. By giving love and empathy to you, I also give it to myself. So here goes. I hereby present a beautiful bundle of empathy to any and all:

• that long to be with a particular someone, or set of someones, every day, and due to distance, can not.
• that have had a special week and are not looking forward to a “normal” day.
• that feel tired.
• that are cleaning up poop and pee several times a day as they potty train their child.
• that are in tooth pain, having tooth worries, or facing impending, costly, dental work.
• that are in store for a long day of travel.
• that teach a class early on saturday mornings.
• that live their life in relation to autism.
• that ordered food at a restaurant and then later didn’t want that food, and their parents still wanted them to eat it.
• that are allergic to dogs and even have to wear a ventilator to enjoy dinner parties at houses with dogs.
• that are experiencing changes at their job.
• that have a dog that is getting older and it’s starting to show.

I hope this helps.

contentment is …

1. Hearing a bump and a clunk on the back porch and seeing my sister Emily walk through the back door.
2. That happening enough days in a row that it feels like a regular occurrence.

who’s your grandpa?

This is what we all want right? A strong pillar of immense unconditional love, adoringly accompanying us through our journeys, and smiling benevolently all the while.

Moms and dads make sure the teeth are brushed and say no to watching another movie. Grandparents play, snuggle, paint toe nails, read stories, and watch new jumping skills. Okay, parents do all this too, but grandparents have full licence to do only these things. And hear hear to that.

But maybe we school-marmy parents could take a lesson from the grandparent playbook, and do a little less of the herding, chiding, and reminding, and a little more of the just plain adoring. Sure, the laundry will pile up, and yes, the teeth will develop a yellow fuzz, but these tasks do not have to be all consuming.

Today I watched my dad watch Echo jump, what seemed like a hundred times, and each time he was really watching.

I was grandparented well and I know what that feels like. I want that for my children. I want to be that for my children. But I also want to be that for my partner, for my sister, for my mother and father. I want to be that, for instance, for the crabby waitress at the airport lounge that wanted to go home so badly.

And why not? The more I think about it the more I question why I would ever want to be any different. If I were able to choose a part to play, I would not consciously choose the negative controlling one. I would not aspire to be the woman that holds her man back, or the friend that gently undermines relationships with cheery but cleverly cutting remarks.

So instead I will consciously choose the grandparent role. I’m going to grandparent every human being I can. I’m going to chuckle indulgently and let my eyes crinkle with delight. I’m going to murmur gently and talk in the third person, here, baby, let Gramma make it better for you.

Okay, I might do this silently and invisibly, maybe never even actually interact, but I know that my intentions will be felt regardless. It feels good to be loved.

 

 

our kind of guy

You know, there’s a lot of talk in this country about the federal deficit. But I think we should talk more about our empathy deficit – the ability to put ourselves in someone else’s shoes; to see the world through the eyes of those who are different from us – the child who’s hungry, the steelworker who’s been laid-off, the family who lost the entire life they built together when the storm came to town. When you think like this – when you choose to broaden your ambit of concern and empathize with the plight of others, whether they are close friends or distant strangers – it becomes harder not to act; harder not to help.

These are words from our lovely president. We sent his daughters a Feeleez game. I hope they like it.

i feel… happy

The love brigade has arrived.

Through a series of happy events, Kris and her family are basking in some warm sunshine for a week, and both my sister and my father are housesitting for them while they are gone. This means that in one single evening Emily arrived from Portland, and my dad arrived from Santa Cruz. Within a couple of hours they were piled on the bed reading to Echo and giving her face rubs. Aaaaaaaaaah heaven.

I love my family so much. It is a daily task to not miss the missing parts as much as I do, so to have a portion of them here with me, bathing my daughter in love, is incredible.

empathy delivery

Why does the journey from 6 p.m. until now, when the kids are asleep, sometimes feel like an eternity? I was making dinner (note to self: do not start cooking brown rice when it’s already after six. No matter how good the sushi rolls are, I’ve lost my culinary audience to sleepiness, by 7:30.). Echo was “helping” me cook, which meant telling me, repeatedly and in great detail, why she needed the knife, and Xi was orbiting my body with a giant, helium butterfly balloon that kept smothering my face with it’s buoyancy. (Why is it that no matter what size the house is, the children prefer to play within six inches of my body? ) And while I batted the balloon away from my nostrils for the tenth time, and hid the knife behind the teapot, I thought to myself, this is what empathy delivery is for! We all need to have moments like these recognized. So here goes. I hereby declare empathy for any and all:

• that struggle between the hours of 6 until bedtime.
• that return to the bed 3 times to re-help their little one fall asleep, just to repeat the process a half hour later with their older one.
• that are spending their first days and weeks with their newborn and worry about each little detail; wether or not their baby is  nursing enough, what that particular sound means, wether or not they are doing it right, etc.
• that are recovering from surgery.
• that miss their sister.
• that finally get to move back to their hometown and realize they are a little afraid.
• that want more romance and sex in their relationship, or want to want more sex in their relationship.
• that are in love with someone that is not available, or is not their partner/husband/wife.
• that have moved away from their town and feel lonely.
• that think they want kids but are not yet in the right place for it.
• that feel regret for how they recently treated someone.

Here’s to you, to you all.

Don’t forget to let me know about someone that needs empathy. I will include their situation in this weekend’s empathy delivery.