Under the Embers

Family, examined.

Danger, baby

What is it about power cords that captures Sora’s undivided focus? I have “High Voltage” (by Electric 6) running through my head within ten minutes of getting up in the morning. Before we experienced the end of her 4th month, Sora was crawling. Her movement was motivated by a simple drive; to get to the power cords. This unfortunate obsession is creating a frustration dynamic.

Poor Sora, plopped down in the middle of the room with all of the wonders Little People and Melissa and Doug can provide, is instantly in motion, over and around her toys and darts at breakneck crawling speeds right to the closest outlet. The result is predictable; she is thwarted, softly scooped up, kissed, commented on, and set back down again with her toys. At first, she just changed directions and headed for new and exciting electricity allure. Recently, however, the calm waters of this Cancer have become stirred, and the result is remarkable. She will see me walking towards her, and she will crawl faster, and start to protest my predictable swooping arms by screeching. Regardless of how I try to soften my approach with smiles, song, announcement of my intentions, or efforts to distract, she is enraged. Sora contorts her body into a lower-case “n” with her back arched, head thrown, and arms flailed. Then she hits me in the face, over and over, because I am obviously too dumb to understand her clear communication. Stupid mommy.

Today I am going to try again to come up with a solution that helps limit Danger Baby’s tragic frustration. The easiest solution is to keep the cords off the floor. But with network cables essential, power cables dangle, and outlets accessible, this is a task easier said than done.

We have some objects that are cordy and pluggy that she can play with. So far, the outcome is a mixed success; she does enjoy the provide cordy-pluggy “toys” and focus plays for a while, but the enchantent of the more forbidden objects wins over the allowance of the un-deadly. She eventually abandons her safe objects and crawls quickly back to the outlets. Progress, not perfection, hah!

Burning Up:

There are times when I feel like my heart may just burn up with love. My children and my partner* amaze me daily, and the love that I feel for them triumphs time and time again over even the meanest anxieties, self-doubt, momma guilt, and even sorrow. Love is powerful. When I love, I am not in fear. The sounds of play are a panacea.

TJ** makes me laugh. Several times a day I am overtaken by glorious fits of belly-gripping, side-stretching, face-paining laughter. I have never before in my life felt as loved, respected, and collected as I do with him. This is not a relationship that formed easily, under typical circumstance, or with smooth development. But we are strong together. We have worked through so much and we are strong together. I am hit with waves, daily, of love so intense that it makes me light headed.

It is not always easy, usually because we have a hard time with simplicity. TJ and I can, at times, take each other on lavish emotional benders, no expense withheld. We can be very, very immature and let our natural tendency towards antagonism turn into malice. We have many tools, and we add new ones to our collection frequently, but there are times when struggle, strife, and conflict ambush our happy little bases. Pain is the corner stone to spiritual growth, right? One day, we will be spiritual giants! It is during times of fear, pain, and stress that we have learned to come together, not pull apart. When we connect, it is a powerful and positive union. When we remember to un-complicate things and take simple bite-sized efforts, our partnership is highly functional and very supportive.

During times of play and peace, we are a blast. When it does not come easily on its own, we try to manufacture this time. It reinforces our relationship, adding strength when we feel weak.

Wes is a sweet big brother. I feel honored when I can sit back and observe him shining in a mentor roll. On a particularly rainy day recently, he sat for an hour reading with Zion. They each had a book, and Wes stopped frequently to teach Zion tricks and tips about sounding out words. Later, Wes took him step by step through the process of making nachos, complete with key things to remember (“the goal is to make each platter the best nachos you have ever made, that way they always get better and turn out delicious!”) Zion has since made himself nachos several times.

I adore how Sora calls out Wes’ softest side. He is often heard cooing and singing to her. Regardless of where we are or if he is around his peers, Wes will sing to and baby talk with Sora. More than once she has interrupted a teenage thunderstorm mood by simply catching his eye from across the room and beaming a huge open-mouth baby smile his direction.

Wes is the Worker of Lighters when there are firecrackers to be enjoyed. He is the Reacher of Heights when there are things to be explored, and the Keeper of the Pocket Change when there is a walk to Taco Bell to be traversed. He is the Gate Keeper into the appealing and confusing world of “big kid”, and to Zion, he is the coolest person alive.

Zion and Sora have a connection that is almost unreal. I am in awe. “I am going to be a perfect big brother, just like Connor”, says Zion. Wes smiles and says, “You know, Connor is like a big brother to me, too.” Zion really is a wonderful brother to his baby sister. I was curious if they would have a make believe land together, or if age would exclude them from some of that shared magic. I am warmed to watch Zion and Sora play together throughout each day.

When Sora is distressed, nothing reassures her effectively as Zion. They squeak to each other, and laugh. I listen to Zion, and I hear bits of myself, splashes of Wes, and echoes of generations of mommas and siblings singing and soothing their babies. He is so intentional, connected, and intuitive. I am aware that this is largely a result of modeling and example, but some of it I attribute to his constitution, to Zion’s very nature. In this way, he is of myself. In this way, he is of Connor. In this way, he is also unique; sometimes he is my mentor.

If you ever need a baby to let go of the fight and take the needed nap, hand that bundle of fussy cuteness to Raven. She has the rock. She has the sway. She has the right whisper, too. Raven: expert fort maker, supreme dishwasher unloader, and the only 13 year old ever to have her head straight.

Topic- Influenced Tangent:

It is still surreal; a Raven without a Tavvi (like a Wes without a Connor). Having Raven over is natural and an embraced family composition, but even still, everything reminds us of Tavvi. I can only hope that she knows that she is loved. Since it is a new year, I find myself with hope on the magic of transition that this year will see a reunion with Connor and Tavvi. I could have made this my Rant*** for the day, but I am trying to be more positive about this than ranty (at least right now). Things are warm and filled with love and light… I tend to want to lean towards the power and productivity of anger**** more than the sharp reality of sorrow, but I don’t want to be mad right now. I guess that there is power in embracing feelings for what they are, too. Right now, everything is okay, I am just sad. I miss Connor and Tavvi so much.

A Word On Forts:

Sometimes my initial response to any request is “no”.

This is a red flag to myself that I should hang an “out of order” sign around my neck and figure out what is buggin’ before I do much else. Maybe I just need to put down my coffee cup and make a sandwich, or maybe I need to examine a trigger for anxiety and delve. Sometimes simply taking a few deep breaths and becoming willing to be flexible can elicit a more calm and playful part of my parental MO.

For whatever reason (mess) I find that something (mess) about forts (MESS) stresses me out (it is the mess). I have discovered that forts are magical to children. And I don’t hate magic or children. I actually love constructive play. LOVE focus non- INEEDYOU activities. I like Imagination Land, picnics, and spontaneous child napping; all things engendered by forts.

I have decided that I can have boundaries without being a bitch, and that kids can play without me, well, being a bitch! No, you cannot take down the tapestries from the wall, but yes, you can use the chairs. No, thumbtacks cannot be part of this, but do whatever you want with your toys. Make a mess, just clean it up when you are done (WHY did this take so long for me to master?). Here is my favorite one: do it in your room so that I don’t feel tempted to micromanage, and you can be free of the oppressing energy of my own mess PTSD. And here is where the older girl energy rocks! I know that Raven will help Zion and other children clean up. I know that she will supervise all variety of fort shenanigans. And really, it helps me be off the hook because I don’t want to be part of the construction crew.

Forts are cool. I forgot this somehow. I am glad that the kids reminded me.

Hah!:

I remember hearing this on Doctor Demento, and since then, I cannot help but say the words of the song in that particular voice. “Galoshes!”

* not a woman.

** not a woman

*** I decided about two weeks ago that I would do exclusively positive, or at least matter of fact, status updates on Facebook. Light and fluffy, optimistic, or out-right happy. I noticed that I had developed an unattractive trend of whining. I could feel happy and content with my day, and then hop on Facebook and vent about that one little itch… The scratchy tag on an otherwise comfortable and beautiful blouse. But true to my approach of parenting my children, I am parenting myself kindly. If I take away, I must balance and provide. Thus, I can have a ranty space in my blog.

**** “… a dubious pleasure better left to someone more qualified”. My brainwashing has left me feeling Zestfully clean!

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