Posts from — July 2009

Let me tell you a story about the feminine intuition, hormones, and STRENGTH and BEAUTY!

Last night our pastors wife came over and gave Lacey a sweet foot and leg massage. Afterwards, I looked over at Lacey who was falling asleep watching Harry Potter with us. I smiled and bite my tongue from predicting: “You’re going to go into labor tonight.”

I woke up early this morning with a dream that I had been texted “It’s Time!” I heard nothing, absolutely nothing, going on in the house. I kept telling myself I would hear footsteps so she must not be in labor, but I couldn’t sleep. I was SO sure she was.

Chris woke up and I said- I’ve been up because I had a dream Lacey was in labor. I’m so sure she is but I haven’t heard anything yet. He called me a few minutes after leaving the house. There were extra cars parked in our driveway (the midwives were here!) “I KNEW IT!”

Shortly after I began to hear Lacey’s labor pick up. I quickly ran upstairs to start her Birth cake (which ended up being a very messy, falling apart version of the beautiful one she made me when I was in labor with Verity, but hey- its still tasty and nutritional, right?!) A friend started IMing me and I wrote: “If I didn’t know any better, she’s going to have him soon. Oh yeah, and I’ve been feeling boy vibes all morning.”

Five minutes later I heard the sound of a baby crying while I was in the kitchen falling over myself trying to get the cake ready fast- without making any noise!

Not long after, I was informed we had a new little boy in the house!

Oh, Lacey- a 6.5 hour labor and homebirth to a beautiful, healthy, baby boy!!! I am SO SO SO proud of you!!! Great job, Seth! You guys are awesome!!!

Welcome, little Malachi Jude Patrick Holbert!

(I’ll post pics when I can snag some… for now let’s just say he looks like HER DAD!!!)

Last night I humorously shared about feeling like an old fart.

But this morning I found myself having to sit down with Ethan to go over some things about getting older, and all the while I was learning some of my own lessons. (Why is it that parenting parents us? You know?!)

At the suggestion of Ethan’s Maw Maw Su, we are using his upcoming birthday as a topic starter for teaching him about what behaviors are and aren’t appropriate. This morning presented the perfect opportunity to begin this conversation.

Walking to the park with William and Brianna, we spot a big feather on the ground. Brianna picks it up first and Ethan snatches it from her. I inform them that the feather is indeed Brianna’s and that if Ethan wants to hold it awhile he may do so until the street light and then he must give it back to her. A few blocks later, we pass the street light, and Ethan Completely.Falls.Apart. Screaming until it causes the other kids to cry, even. Throwing himself on the ground. Running back towards the house. Hitting my arm as I try to get him back to the wagon and other two kids. Melt down mania, I tell you.

I was calm, it was fine, but I knew that when this passed we were HAVING A TALK! I told him that after the other kids get picked up, we’ll be going to Posie’s to split some chocolate bread and that he and I needed to talk and write down what it means to become a 4 year old. We don’t even make it to the park because of all the stopping to deal with Ethan stuff, so the kids get picked up and Ethan and I turn back to Posie’s, he is still crying and screaming (at least 10 minutes later) in the following almost inaudible phrases:

“NOOOO! I don’t want ANYTHING. I want to go to the park! I want to go home! I want to go to sleep! I’m hungry! I don’t like you ANYMORE! I want to say goodbye to Brianna and William! I want the feather! I don’t want to share! I want it ALL NOOOOOWWWWWW!!!!!”

(It was hard not to laugh at how little sense he was making.)

At Posies, the cry has become a little miserable murmuring. Katie (yes, we know the baristas by name, its sad) asked Ethan what was wrong and he hiccups something like, “Feather… Brianna… Park… Chocolate bread… Share…” lol

We sit outside for our “date”, as I’ve told him like this is a real special mama and Ethan discussion.

I wouldn’t have proceeded to get into the “talk” about growing up but I saw that he was in fact calm now and inquisitive about “what it means” to become 4.

We start talking about some behaviors he sees in kids younger than him, as well as some behaviors from kids older than him. We talk about growing up, how you get to do more things and you get more freedom and abilities, but that also means you must start to be more responsible for your feelings and behaviors. Some things must stop when he becomes 4 next week.

Long story short, here is the list Ethan came up with, that I jotted down, that will now be hanging on a poster on his door so that we can begin “practicing” being 4 this week in preparation for this milestone on Saturday.

“When I become 4…

I get to:
-Pour my own drink.
-Learn to ice skate.
-Join a sports team.
-Load and start the dishwasher with mama and dada.
-Use glitter and glue by myself.
-Stay up until 8pm instead of 7:30pm.

I need to stop doing:
-Screaming
-Hitting or kicking.
-Interrupting while adults are on the phone or having a conversation.
-Whining.
-Afraid of spiders. (cutie!)”

We talked about how becoming older doesn’t mean he can’t cry or have feelings, but we can talk about how he feels and do other things to show how we feel instead of outbursts. We’ve agreed to explore some other ways to show we are angry (draw an angry picture, for example.) I’m also hoping that Chris, who will be starting some one-on-one parenting coaching soon, will be able to counter some of the Chris/Ethan problems that have played into Ethan’s outbursts.

I’m not sure yet that we will actually enforce this list, but its more of a conversation about what we can now do and what things we need to leave behind because we are getting bigger and have new and better ways to express ourselves. He and I shook hands over this list, and I told him that I will begin to let him do the “I get to” items when I see he is letting go of the “I no longer can” items.

We’ll see how this goes…

Lotta thinking, lotta working, lotta life going on.

Watching two kids today and overnight for a friend is lovely, but let me just say now that 4 kids is never something I want to have a full-time gig for! Whew! I think I burned more calories in 20 minutes today than I do during the couch to 5k program: Quick- let’s paint! Okay- let’s make pizza sandwiches! Now- who needs to brush their teeth before we start this book and then I have to come in the room for an hour after saying “goodnight” to tell my HOLY-CRAP-TALKATIVE son to BE QUIET for another HOUR (and, yes, I DO hear you whispering to your friends to bait them on- and I also hear them telling you “SHHHHH!!!! Ethan- we are TRYING to sleep and you’re gonna get us in trouble!!!”

Dad- was I like that at my slumber parties?!?!?! Maybe this is life’s payback system. I kept hearing it had one…

I love him. I just have to keep telling myself how much I love him, despite that rounding the Four Year Old Boy Corner has brought out the most defiant, brilliant, scheming, TALK TALK TALK TALK TALK TALK TALKATIVENESS I could have never ever ever ever ever imagined when he was just a wee soft, sweet smelling baby who loved his mama’s boobs.

Why does this all go by so fast? Why do I feel so … so… old?!

Note to self: slow down and read some “small things” books. Some day, before you know it, he’ll be big enough to know when to SHUT.UP. … and you’ll be wishing he’d talk to you more!

BTW or speaking of which… or not related at all … who really knows and moving on: Sensing lately WAY too much of my own mortality. I guess I need to retire “Forever Young” as my life theme song. There’s one thing to think about eternity and so on but, I don’t know – that’s a conversation for a different post.

Right now, all I can think when pondering my 4 year old and my life and all these day to day things is that I’m “only” a quarter of a century old in this earthly life and already I feel like … GANDOLF! Quick, somebody buy me a pumice stone for my corns and some decent tweezers for that long gray chin hair!!!

Maybe its the Harry Potter marathon Chris has us on. These kids were born in the 90’s. The NINETIES, ya’ll.

I’m going to bed.

Just wanted to take a very brief moment to plug a family resource I am really excited about. Book of Days is a collection of stories, games, recipes, and other fun activities that the whole family can enjoy doing together, and it is written and illustrated so beautifully by a mama of 3 boys. The idea is so simple but its really a cute little pdf that you purchase and print out on nice paper and make into a family journal, with a calendar to carve out time together throughout the month. Peruse the older months and the Summer book that came out last month- check out “How to Use” it too. If you don’t fall in love with the sweet little crayon drawings, I’ll buy the book FOR ya – because YOU need to have some fun! lol
Enjoy!

There are moments like these, interruptions into my normal level of surviving, functioning and even optimism, in which I feel the stone in my gut and the acid in my chest again. It might be briefly- the back of my eyes burn as water floods and blurs my vision for just a moment until I take a breath and regain control.

The moments happen whenever I tap into something deeper than daily life: during worship at church; a talk with a friend that goes beyond the initial jokes and into the layers; a movie with a related character experiencing grief; the hours I labored with Verity; the rare moments of intimacy in my marriage…

I want to do what I’ve always done so well, you see? I want to be somewhere, up above the pain, fluttering above the current. I don’t want to feel it all – I don’t want to relive anything or allow myself to “go there”. I don’t want to consider the possibility of this happening again, the unpredictable nature of this relationship’s longevity, the ideals and morals and fabrics and dreams – all just flimsy constructs in the face of the animal that consumed my marriage and regurgitated a broken, fragile, almost-hopeless couple who once wanted to be husband and wife – standing in a stupid purple expensive church nearly 7 years ago; now they simply want the chance to be with each other, against all odds. But I ask myself every day is that is enough. Are some things broken beyond repair? I’m not sure. It’s what I’m waiting to find out, I guess. And repair isn’t what I’m after, really. I don’t want to be a “refurbished model” of marriage. I want to be made completely whole again.

Not long ago, we talked about suffering in church. A quote was shared that struck me, and continues to strike me at the core, and I sit with it:

“I believe like a child that suffering will be healed and made up for, that all the humiliating absurdity of human contradictions will vanish like a pitiful mirage, like the despicable fabrication of the impotent and infinitely small Euclidean mind of man, that in the world’s finale, at the moment of eternal harmony, something so precious will come to pass that it will suffice for all hearts, for the comforting of all resentments, of the atonement of all the crimes of humanity, of all the blood that they’ve shed; and it will make it not only possible to forgive but to justify what has happened.” – Dostoevsky, Brothers Karamazov

If you know what it is I’m talking about in this post, the lingering effects and fiery after sparks of the climaxing event in my marriage last summer, you might be able to understand what I mean when I speak of finding some hope in that quote, as well as some turmoil. I’m beginning to see how I could forgive, but justify? Do I even want the “humiliating absurdity of [Chris'] contradiction” to be justified?

I might flutter above the current on a daily basis, but sometimes I’m pushed back down, or willfully I dip back down, or the current comes right up and grabs my legs and PULLS me down… and it is those instances that I refer to as the “moments” in the start of this post.

And I ask God every day in one way or another: “Help me to believe that You can restore me.”

I must confess something: The images from yesterday which showcase a happy 4 year old actively playing and getting a turn in the bus driver’s seat are not altogether accurate. I kinda sort skipped the part where he threw a full blown tantrum and refused to leave OMSI, me gently dragging him out the door with the shoe he refused to put on in my hand and his arm in the other (which is not at all how I like to handle things, but I couldn’t see a better solution at the time.)

The truth of the matter is, Mr. Ethan had a major meltdown when a 2 year old darling girl tried to join him with the ball/air pressure activity. He was so engrossed in this delightful display of air power, (not to mention ready for a nap after 4 hours of bus rides, a movie, and a playground), that he kinda “lost himself” and began pushing this little lady out of his way and yelling at her. Not too typical of Ethan. I asked him to step away with me so we could talk about this behavior, and he was just not having it. He ended up screaming at me and kicking out his feet at me, all in front of a playground room of maybe 50-100 adults plus their children. I told him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how tired you must be for you to behave like this. You’ve let me know, now, and we are going to head home.” Oh boy. I barely get him out of the door of the playground room while he continues to scream and cry, refusing to put his shoes on. He gets one on before getting a third wind to his tantrum. We make it down the stairs, him screaming and crying still, with only one shoe on. Down the stairs, he reluctantly puts on the other shoe. Outside, we board the bus waiting to shuttle folks back to the convention center to catch the Max.

This is where things get a little more interesting. Getting myself a distance away from the public eye helps me clear my mind a bit and try to figure out a solution to what is going on with Ethan. I felt decent about the whole thing- I mean, it was in a place where tons of kids throw tantrums when its time to leave, and I can block out the staring eyes pretty well by my 4th year of motherhood anyway, lol. Plus, I didn’t feel like I was insanely angry about his behavior. I felt like it was HIS problem and I could only be there to support him and help him figure out the boundaries (not hurting other people or things) until it passed. This helped me keep my cool on the inside, rather than fuming and feeling helpless. Once on the bus, as I was trying to be compassionate and patient, the driver informed us that we have about TWENTY minutes before he can depart. And we were all alone on the bus with this driver while Ethan continued to wail “DON’T TALK TO MEEEEEEE! I DON’T WANT ANYTHING!!!!!!” so on and so forth.

I was trying to undo some of his “flooding”- as in, a person in that state can’t reason, so there’s no use talking yet about how we behave in public, or sharing on the playground, etc etc. His feelings in that moment are too strong to be able to creatively problem solve (something I learned from marriage counseling — ya like?! lol) So I’m just telling him that I understand how much he wants to continue playing, and I hope we can have a good time reading books when we get home, etc.

But all the while, the driver keeps interjecting with “Oh, you’re fine!” and “Oh, you just played too hard, didn’t you?” and “Don’t talk to her like that, that’s your mother!” and poor Ethan was getting more and more distraught. I was still a bit overwhelmed with all that was going on with him, but I tried to put myself in his shoes to figure out why he was getting even worse since we got on the bus. I realized that this stranger bus driver was not only preaching at him, he was also chuckling and laughing at him whenever he would scream. Now, I understand how funny it can be when a little kid throws a big fit for a very “little” reason, but in Ethan’s world, this was NOT a little reason. The driver, though well-intentioned, was adding insult to injury because Ethan was now feeling embarrassed. Every time he displayed how he was feeling and what he wanted, he was getting laughed at! When I realized what was happening, I was then MUCH more annoyed and angry with the driver than with my kid!

I tried to kinda passively get the guy to shush it, but he wasn’t getting the hint. So I moved Ethan and I to the very back of the bus, telling him that maybe he just needs more space right now. Luckily, another family boarded and with us in the back of the bus, he cooled down. Within 5 minutes he was apologizing to the driver for yelling at him, and then asking if he could sit in his seat!

Last night the group of 4 running mamas and 1 super preggo mama were commiserating about our childrens’ behaviors driving us up the wall when we are stuck in public. It is so much harder to allow them to be themselves, which includes the occasional age-appropriate melt-down, when you aren’t in private. The impulse to remove the child from the situation and punish them more harshly than you would at home is overwhelming! Not only are we embarrassed by the attention it is putting on us (or so we THINK, lol) but we also believe that its a representation of us- that our child’s behavior means XYZ about how good or bad we are as parents. Right?!

Sometimes I think I’ve built up a little more tolerance for public outbursts due to having no vehicle- since there really is NEVER a quick retreat to a private place where I can take off down the road, turn up the music, and let the kid wail til they pass out, lol. I envy those who get that, I really do. Not just that, but the car provides the private atmosphere and space the child needs when they have truly been pushed to their limit with running errands or playing a little too long and now they are tired, cranky, hungry, what have you. Imagining these meltdowns and then a 1.5 hour public transportation ride and maybe a mile or more of WALKING HOME puts some perspective on the 5 minutes you have to spend pulling them out of a store in the first place!

But this inconvenience of extended time getting back to a “home base” has also forced me (and Ethan) to find creative ways to deal with each other when we are just fed up. And its forced me to get a little bit more self-confident about how I need to parent him in public, about what behaviors I am and am NOT responsible for (which pretty much always includes MINE and not HIS.)

Being a mother of a tantrum child in public: it’s really, really, really hard to do. The difficulty shouldn’t be discounted for even a moment. But in the end, there are some tweaks we can make to our thoughts, feelings, and responses that make the whole inevitable experience go a little smoother and cause less damage to our relationship with our children.

In my reading so far of Unconditional Parenting (which has changed my WORLD, let me tell you), I came across a segment dedicated to this experience of children acting up in public. Here’s what he advices:

Rule number one: When your in public, ignore everyone around you. The more worried you are about how other people will judge your parenting skills, the greater chance you’ll respond with too much control and too little love and patience. This is not about what people think about you; it’s about what your child needs.
Rule number two: Imagine how this looks from her point of view. Someone having a tantrum is very likely afraid of her own rage, terrified of being out of control. Consequently, you do her no favors by ignoring her or by responding harshly. Use only the minimum control necessary to make sure the people aren’t in danger. Focus on providing comfort and calm reassurance. Let the tantrum play itself out. Later, you can try to address the underlying causes together.

Like I always say: Parenting – what a rush!

Here’s us at the Michael Jackson Remembrance Fest – slash- greatest hits video sing along that was hosted by the gals at our nearby community house (the White House? What are they callin themselves these days?). It was a fun little backyard gathering to honor MJ, filled with, oh, 15-20 Evergreeners primarily. We aren’t really big MJ fans, well, at all, actually! I read somewhere the description that summed it up perfectly; “genius musician – sucked at being a human being.” (Though, well now see, I take that back. One might argue he was great at being a human being, because in many ways we are all pretty much one “bad”, crotch grabbin, skin diseased mess of a species.)

And – yes, okay, FINE… I’ll admit it! I AM trying to dance in this shot…

Speaking of this shot… one of these days I’m going to put together an album of the most random places I have been pictured breastfeeding my daughter. LOL! In front of a waterfall, berry picking, and now THIS!

P.S. We started our 5K Race for the Cure training tonight! Misty, Amy, Lindsey and Vivian: out to heal the world one breast at a time! (Speaking of breasts, this breastfeedin’ mama needs a better sports bra if she plans to do ANYmore running ANYtime soon…)

Pics of Ethan and some homeschooling preschooling kids today at the OMSI (Oregon Museum of Science and Industry) to watch “Bugs!” on the I-Max and play at the Science Playground. On the ride home, the shuttle driver let Ethan get up on his seat and open and shut the door! Truly the highlight of any 4 year old boys day

Enjoy…
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Our Kenton House brews a small feast of fermented numminess (my BFF’s way of saying “yummy-ness… or so I think…)

We normally brew two things regularly: Kombucha and Raw Milk Kefir. Briefly:

Kombucha:
What? A sparkling, fermented tea drink that is slightly vinegary, slightly sweet. Began being consumed in Asia about 2,000 years ago for health.
Why? “As the Kombucha culture digests the sugar it produces a range of organic acids like glucuronic acid, gluconic acid, lactic acid, acetic acid, butyric acid, malic acid and usnic acid; vitamins, particularly B vitamins and vitamin C; as well as amino acids, enzymes. And of course there are all the benefits of the probiotic microorganisms themselves. The Kombucha culture is a biochemical powerhouse in your kitchen.” Read more about these acids and beneficial organisms here.
How? Using a kombucha culture, or “scoby”, you BASICALLY add sweetened black tea and let it ferment for about a week in a warm place in the house before bottling the liquid and starting all over. There are all sorts of variations- sometimes we add juice at bottling time and ferment a bit longer on the counter. Other times, we might throw in herbs like chamomile and lavender and fruits like blueberries while it ferments, which not only makes it tastier, but adds some of the medicinal benefits of the herbs and teas (this particular recipe would be very calming, for instance.)

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Raw Milk Kefir
What? A fermented milk drink, we use whole, raw milk from a local family owned farm to ensure the highest quality nutrients in the milk with all the beneficial living organisms that would be otherwise disposed of in the homogenization/pasteurization process. You can use any milk, however. It produces a sour, fizzy, plain yogurt like drink useful for a variety of things, esp in our daily smoothies.
Why? Oh, if only my gut and lady parts could speak. Kefir contains a variety of beneficial organisms (remember the wave of “probiotic” reports and all the “contains 1,000 billion live probiotics” written on the outside of your yogurt in the past few years? Well, this stuff is the motherload. In addition to live probiotics, kefir has antimicrobial and antifungal properties, and contains a variety of vitamins and minerals including “calcium, phosphorus, magnesium, B2 and B12, vit K, A, D, as well as tryptophan, one of the essential amino acids abundant in kefir, is well known for its relaxing effect on the nervous system.” (Tryptophan; the “sleepy” element of turkey at Thanksgiving). Because of all these nutrients, kefir has been linked to improving a variety of things, such as “metabolic disorders, atherosclerosis, and allergies, tuberculosis, cancer, poor digestion, candidiasis [yeast infections and thrush, ladies!], osteoporosis, hypertension, HIV and heart disease.” Bonus: I am very lactose intolerant to store bought dairy (raw I am less sensitive to), but when I have a smoothie each day I am FREE of gas, bloating, and discomfort. FREE, I tell you. It’s amazing.
How? Easy peasy. Raw milk in clean container, add kefir grain. Stir with wooden spoon every so often, usually by 24 hours in warm place on counter (with covering of a clean cloth) your kefir is ready to be strained (using no metals) and restart the next batch. The kefir grain gets bigger and bigger and often breaks off “baby” kefir grains you can then pass on to lucky friends We use our strained kefir milk in a daily smoothie: about equal parts kefir with frozen organic fruit (berries, bananas, peaches, so on) and about 1 tbsp on raw honey per cup. Blend well, pour into tall cup and ENJOY!

Okay, moving forward:

so last week we offered up some of our extra raw milk kefir grains to a gal I met in my homeschooling group who traded us for 1/2 cup of her WATER kefir grains and a few bars of her homemade, natural soaps. Great score.

Lacey popped the little suckers into water with turbinado and raisins and wa-la, today we sipped from the cup of another one of natures healing tonic wonders. This stuff is quite mild and tasty, and can be made into a variety of sweet, fizzy soda drinks using fruit juices, etc. It has the same beneficial ingredients as the raw milk kefir, but less costly because you don’t have to use all your raw milk, lol.

I’ve been saying for awhile that my next venture into fermentation would be Mead. Mead is a sparkling “wine” type of drink, made with water, honey, and yeast. I was very interested in learning how to do this because with Mead you get the benefits of raw honey (oh man, they are VAST- but that’s another post. Google it, lol.) PLUS the fermentation methods nutrients, PLUS you get to sip your homemade wine and stop spending all your money on it! Sweet!

Well, come to find out while researching about water kefir recipes, you can make MEAD with kefir grains. So the insanity has truly begun. Adding some raw honey, cinnamon and cloves to warm water and kefir grains, I am now brewing homemade honey wine! It takes about two weeks total before you can sip it from a wine glass, but you can bet I’ll be back to report on this. I’m interested in how alcoholic this is though, lol.

Here is our cabinet of brews (kombucha not pictured since she rests on the top of the fridge for extra warmth): From left: raw milk kefir; spiced mead; water kefir with dates and apricots. (pictured uncovered but this is NOT how you leave them on your counter!)

(Additional Hint: Buying raw, local honey isn’t so bad if you order it through Azure Standard for about $23 a gallon- our household of 6-who-count-as-people go through about a gallon every 6 weeks – it is used for all of our daily sugar needs, from brews to baking to smoothies, what have you.)

Other homemade goodies I’ve concocted this week:

Homemade Coconut Milk Ice cream: This is my first go at homemade ice cream, and I didn’t even have an ice cream maker, lol.
2 cans of coconut milk, 1/4 cup or so of raw honey, 1 cup frozen raspberries from the farm! – in blender til creamy, place in freezer for a few hours in a shallow container and mix or re-blend every 30 minutes until mixture no longer gets “icy” but stays ice creamy. Keeps for about a week. I also made a cinnamon/cardamom version. Yum. (and not only guilt-free but NUTRITIOUS. Again, google the benefits of coconut milk… endless!)

Whipped Lavender Honey Butter: Our herbs hanging in the window are done, so I’ve used up some lavender and raw honey to whip together with organic, sweet cream butter in the food processor for a tasty addition to a slice of toast with tea in the morning

Good stuff.

I’m sorry but… maybe I’m crazy but…

Sometimes I think that TWO has been easier than ONE!

Who else could entertain baby with a live performance while I drink my coffee to ensure higher level brain function? (Bonus: check mark the “music education” portion of the homeschooling day… could this get any easier?!)

And, we are reaching some major new milestones – Verity is grasping for her little knot doll and knitted bunny I made her while pregnant and sucking on them! WOO HOO! (this gives my boobies a rest, you see…)
Oh the baby chub is adorable!

Last but not least, Verity is, at just 2 months, quite the dada’s girl. The cliche could never have been truer than when this kid lights up as soon as she hears him come in the door from work!