3 Year Old Boys I Know

C an R, boys separated by 2 years, two wombs and moving, one to Lincoln, Illinois, one to Mexico. All this separation, so how is it they are identical in thought, words, and their wonderful sense of humor? Well, with C approaching 5 and R approaching 3, I thought it time to look at the similarities from C-man's 3 year and the R-sters 3 year. I came up with two pictures. What I don't have are pictures of the boys eating dirt when they were 1, they both loved a good mouthful of soil to munch on! I also do not have pictures of these second born sons whacking the first born sons, but rest assured these boys learned lessons well from their older brothers. These pics are evidence that my sweet little daughter has enough clout to get these tough boys to still dress as princesses. You two boys make your mama's laugh, cry, shake our heads and wonder what planet you really came from. And while I don't encourage hitting, I find it grand you can slug your brothers and still put on fancy dress-ups! Boys you are fierce and noble, wild and funny and your mamas love you to bits!

How green is our valley

Overwhelmed with all the crises going on in the world right now (sub-prime, rising oil, war in Iraq, U.S. elections, blah, blah, blah...), I forget to look outside of myself a lot of the time. Yesterday after three days of heavy rain, I walked to the top of our property and looked out on this luscious green valley. While I didn't experience instant peace in the world, I did experience a moment of it's okay to let go. So I let go of all those nagging images of disaster in my brain. I saw Sierra de Guanajuato in the distance, clearly, after months of looking through the hazy dust to only see a vague outline. There were shades of green that I never knew could exist in Mexico, I became overwhelmed with the beauty of this place we call home. And my heart slowed to the beat of contentment.

My belated Mother's Day story

Well, after 3 weeks without a computer i can finally relay the story of the gifts my children gave me for Mother's Day, this was the best year ever. It all began on Friday, 2 days before Mother's Day... Isabel had a friend come home from school with her, on the ride home the girls told me this:

Amarina -Elizabeth, you know what? The boys on the bus said I was ugly and Isabel is beautiful.
Me- Well, those aren't very nice boys.
Isabel- And, mommy, you know what I told them?
Me- What did you tell them Isabel?
Isabel- I said, Amarina is my friend and she is just as beautiful as me!
Me- Isabel, you're right, Amarina is as beautiful as you.

Not only did Isabel speak for a larger sense of what is beautiful, she said it all in her second language, Spanish. My heart was glowing almost as brightly as Isabel's rosy cheeks. My daughter stood up for the underdog, she came to her dear friends defense and said what was right and good. Isabel was given a tool, compassion, from her mama and she used that tool, against "those mean boys" and given her friend a gift, unconditional love. I still tear up thinking about the inner strength of my 5 year old baby girl. Isabel, you are a light for my heart in the darkness.

Move to Sunday, Mother's Day. Our day started out at 7 am, unheard of for Sunday! Richard was in the states and I packed up my 3 kids and 2 dishes to share for the Danza de Listonne at Los Charcos, arrival time 8:30 am. This danza, or dance is celebrated by Waldorf schools to mark the bringing of light as midway between the vernal equinox and the summer solstice. The point where light and warmth are bringing the earth to life in a splash of green, I like to think of
it as an appreciation of verdance, that may even be my own word for green spring deliciousness,
I'm not sure.

So, on Mothers Day, I watched Sebastian, my oldest, my gift from God on Christmas day 2000, dance the light into being. Gracias a Dios, what beauty, what tears I shed while the flute played and the ribbons wrapped around the pole in an intricate dance. I cannot describe the gratefulness in my heart for everything in my life, the good, the not so good, the really sucky bad things, it was all sumptuous and beautiful and right at that moment. Yet another gift from my first born!

And then I watched Sebastian demonstrate eurythmy. For those of you that know me well, you've heard my skepticism about eurythmy, which is the natural movement of the body associated with sounds in the beginning, which is where Sebastian is, the beginning of a journey into the crazy, wonderful world of Waldorf education. Well, I am a skeptic no more. Sebastian showed me, along with his classmates, how lovely it is to have movement in conjunction with others. It was not precise but it was deliberate, I was so amazed at how his feet moved in unison with his classmates, how delicate their steps were but so sure of themselves. Of where they were going but happy to ease into syncopation not be hurried and force themselves to march. The word Flow comes to mind and what better word because children are by nature fluid beings, adaptable. At this point, I was on sensory overload and out of tears of joy, I smiled like I had not smiled in years. My heart was content.

Roarke in his infinite amount of energy was the last to give his gift, a 2 hour nap! Maybe this means little to my readers, for me, a nap is salvation. After a nap, I can continue, I can be a better mama. Especially when parenting alone to 3 small people, my small people wear me out.

For all these gifts I must rely on a songwriter that touches my heart:
"I stand in awe of gratefulness
I can and call forgetfulness..."
Sufjan Steven

I will remember these moments when my children transgress, I will call on these moments and open them like a gift again and again. Like right now when no one wants to go to sleep, 45 minutes past their bedtime.

My belated Mother's Day Story see story above!

nanny needed

well, this is my story for today. since R will be traveling to the states soon we both decided mama needs a nanny. living in mexico affords a bit of luxury in having domestic help available, and yes, i do realize this is a luxury which is why i used the word. so, in our naivetee, we posted this to the "civil list" in our town. a couple of women were helpful but there was one man that was well.... a
jackass, a burro, a rude human being. i was accused of looking for slave labor when my question was put out to people to help me with nanny protocol. i was accused of slave labor because i wanted a young woman to help me with my 3 children ages 7, 5 and 3 and just wondering could i ask her to cook and do light cleaning.

so, i said to myself WTF!!!??? i calculated the hours i have put in rearing 3 children and i rounded it down to 17,855 hours, i left off 4 months worth of work. work that i have not received any monetary compensation for, no insurance, and definitely no stock options. instead of what CEO's seek, i seek kisses and heartbreakingly gorgeous moments as my payment. when other mothers ask what do i do? i say i rear my children and i get the response "oh, so you just stay at home with your kids?" yes, i JUST do. i watch those children make discoveries, about themselves, the world they live in and the worlds they can only imagine. that is what i do and from those working moments i discover beautiful things about the world and the people that live in this world and my heart grows and says this world will be okay because i have given all of myself. i give all of myself because i love every microscopic piece of those 3 beautiful children that i gave life to. and i expect those 3 beautiful beings to give every bit of themselves to this place, this earth, this moment, without regret or doubt.

however, let us be realistic, nearly 18,000 hours of constant work makes a person tired, especially this mama. so i asked for help with a nanny.

what world is this when people can make a rash judgement of your character from a request for help? would that same person be critical of me if i ended up like the woman in texas that drowned her 5 children? i am betting that he would judge me either way, knowing this i had to respond. i told this man, that has never met me about the fierce beauty of my children, their uncompromising natures, their displays of gorgeous technicolor love. of what it is like to raise children now, to instill in those sweet minds the need to change the world, to tell them "you, you and you...you are what will make a difference to this world because i have loved and cared for you and it is our responsibility out of love to care for other mothers children all over the world!"
and yet, he thinks i want a slave. what a slap in the face. and this in the week that leads up to mother's day, which was a call to change by women. change the world with your children.

becoming a mother on christmas morning of 2000 was the greatest gift, the hardest gift received in one small skinny bundle. my first born son changed the woman i was and i became the woman i am. of all the things i want in this life...good god, and yes i have to say god is good, slave labor would be the furthest from my agenda. i am offended but most of all i am sad because this sort of labeling, these presumptions will face my children. accusations stick likes barbs in the skin and resentment of others begins to well up. if i can't ask for a few suggestions from a "civil list" where the hell in this life can i get the support i need to feel community. what will my children do when faced with this dilemma?

one of those days

today i woke up grumpy, day number two of grumpiness. this is a bad sign when you have 3 kids, husband, school, lunches to pack, playdates scheduled...and all i want to do is be reclusive to avoid being loca chica number one. you know that woman? the one her children run away and hide from.
so this week i have come to terms with the fact i am getting older, 38 this year, and there are some strange conditions to my hormonal balance, oh, that should be hormonal imbalance. i'm writing to purge that wild-eyed crazy woman coming to close to breaking the surface. no, i don't mind the fierce woman in me, i enjoy her company. i do mind when she makes me feel so dizzy with anger i feel heat rising from my body. i mind this because it makes me less of the woman i know i am. less of a wife, mother, daughter/sister, friend. so to all of you i cannot communicate with in my times of inner struggle, thank you for letting it be okay to get a little frayed near the ends. i'll take up weaving the ends together again next week. this weekend though, i think i'll be the proverbial neurotic red-head.

When I look at my children's hands and what they can accomplish in a day, what they can hold and create... I can only describe myself as grateful.