100 things I love

I am trying to make a grocery list. I am trying to write the next line of a poem. I am trying to respond constructively to the lines of another writer's poem. I am trying to remember that this adult world and its fears are not the fault of my child. I am especially trying to remember this when the computer has frozen and he continues clicking the mouse. I am sometimes failing more than I would like. I am going to stop trying for a moment to remember why I try. A list I made months ago, probably from a prompt in some artsy book about how to free my soul. I forget sometimes it is free. What tops your list, frees your soul from the trying?

black tea, mushrooms, light blue, candy shops, homemade bread with real butter, hand-dipped candles, spinach sauteed in lemon, pumpkin orange, East Africa, cherry red, Austin, molasses cookies, vanilla, photo booths, tamales, San Francisco, the first spring crocus, Joe in the morning, peppermint mochas, antique furniture, the heat of summer, heated seats in winter, board games, ink pens, beautiful journals, art work, space, blank canvases, charcoal pencils, cute erasers, play-dough, instant coffee, nutella, maple syrup, woods with rivers, singing, Ben Lee, Amelie, lino cuts, wabi sabi, vodka martini triple dirty, swirled marbles, libraries, aquariums, unschooling, handwritten letters, stationary, beads, bone, found objects, printed fabric, resale shops, banana slugs, caterpillars, deer, old barns, soft pillows, quilts, yoga pants, running, trampoline jumping, swinging, stones, big waves, handmade soaps, etsy, laughter, pregnancy, making lists, eyes, red cheeks, curly hair, sleeping, my bed, peanut butter, strawberries, children's picture books, playing the piano, the coast of california, driving by myself, dr. suess, the pound and salt of the ocean, wind in my hair, scrabble, my grandma's kitchen, sticky buns, 50 cent words, sun on my face, my fingers in sand, speaking french, speaking spanish, prayer flags, reading into the wee hours, love stories, scalding hot showers, baths, the minds of children, rolling change, magic tricks, thunderstorms

Time the predator

Jos has been very into coral reefs and deep sea life lately. We've been reading books and watching nature shows and looking into scuba lessons. Watching a recent flick on the Great Barrier Reef, fish began attacking a crab that crept into the open. Jos didn't want the crab to get eaten and I explained that bigger fish would come along to eat the crab-eating fish, and he said, "Yeah and then the biggest fish will get eaten by Time and nothing can eat Time." I wonder why it takes the rest of so long to realize that no matter how many escapes we make, we're all going to get eaten by Time, in the end?

Jos found his Halloween costume at the resale shop last week. After online checking, we discovered it's a Power Ranger, DinoThunder, though I'm still pretty sure that it's actually a device for human suffocation.

Walking to the bus stop in Holly to pick up cousins Olivia and Sophia last week, Jos and Aunt Nikki and I reminisced about making the same walk with Isaiah. About his desire to pick every dandelion, stop at every pile of rocks, about how long it took to make the walk. Jos said, "Just because he was slower doesn't mean it wouldn't be fun to still have him here." He is coming into his grief, and it is hard for me, because it would feel so much easier to not remember, to not have Jos experience sad. Consider this your friendly PSA reminder: feeling is hard, but worth it. Because I don't really want to forget Isaiah, and I do want Jos to have every memory he can to hold for as long as he can.

Sex Ed. and Space Stations

Our friends recently reminded us of the joys of shaving cream play. Thus was born the world of our sparklemon (Joe and Jos have been playing the Simpson's video game, hence sparklemon). School at home officially ended about three days after it began, though Jos would still like to do "projects" with me. 

A few days ago at lunch, we played a game called "Let us give thanks." We took turns giving thanks for something related to the lunch. I gave thanks for the person that grew the cucumbers that became our pickles. He gave thanks for the person that invented the machine that chopped the trees down to make our lunch table, and so forth. Whoever came up with the last one was the winner. So toward the end, I said, "I give thanks for the people that made the boy that's eating the lunch." And he looked at me and started laughing and said, "You and Dad made me," and then laughing even harder, said, "You and Dad are walking factories."  It was so fun to laugh with him! 

Last night we were looking at a photo of a space station and Jos started talking about how it goes around, trapped in Earth's orbit. When I asked, he said he'd learned it on one of his shows. My money's on Jimmy Neutron. All hail the magical power of cartoons- and kids! We're off to find science supplies of some sort so Jos can test the soil sample he took from the sand trap at the golf course on Sunday. I imagine he'll discover it's full of anger and sweat and curses ;)