Monday, February 18, 2013
Designmantic.com
I’ve been mulling around the business plan for years. Since this blog began. There have been many names, many versions, many epiphanies that I rode high, for a week or two. Today was another, and I was determined that it was time to launch: CultivateCASH.
Just to step back, the previous idea was PEACEProfits, with a tag line of Peace Profiteering. This was when the dialogue was a critical part of it, and at times, I had the “P” standing for Praxis.
Silly how I have fallen into this false acronym game. Nevertheless, it became, Peer Exchange for Agroecology, Culture, and Economics. PEACEProfits. The idea that building strong relationships, building the planet, and celebrating culture are what build wealth. Also of course that the focus is on income generation through projects that contextualize education and get students to problem solve about their environment. Generate income through planetary regeneration.
But I felt that the focus I wanted to make in the name needed to emphasize the “agro” aspect. So,
CultivateCASH came. Cultivate Community with Agroecology for Sustainable Health.
It could work. So in my epiphany, I just wanted to label it and cement the whole process. So what do we do next? Develop a logo. I’ve previously paid over a hundred dollars to have a friend sketch a logo that I had imagined. I wanted it to look youthful, and even to distance myself from all the corporate looking logos. But, not only did the name change and make the artwork irrelevant, but looking at it just makes things look sloppy, rather than fun.
Back to a typical logo.
Logos can go for thousands, or a poorly rated app for $69. On a whim, I typed in free logo and found designmantic.com.
It created a perfectly suitable logo, with a lot of other workable options! It was easy.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
4 and one more
Living in bliss, sometimes worry. Amani is now four, and we have a new son. He will never have any of the nicknames I dreamt of when dreaming of a girl (these past four years- I was a late start, no little girl dreams of baby making for me...)
But Asante, now 10 months and taking his first steps, has done so many memorable things, but writing about it, in the moment, ahhhh, that is where the juice is. Of course, all of us, all of our moments are being battled for by the many tasks, distractions, joys, responsibilities.
So, yesterday: Amani was helping me in the kitchen in Spanish, after a renewed sense of joy and purpose in teaching him that came from talking with my dad on the long drive up the CA I-5 after being gone for a week for Spring Break. Tino/Baba Amani/Daddy walks in. Perhaps he was wiping his colored eggs, washing a dish, or pretending he could speak Spanish. Amani says, "It's good to be together again."
I say I love you a lot, so I am not surprised that Amani does too. I think I am fairly agreeable (at least with him!) and I say sure a lot, so he does too. I guess I say "Actually" and shamefully and inexplicably "Look-it", so Amani has adopted those expressions as well. It is my instinct to say something positive first thing in the morning to these boys, and so when Amani continuously wakes up and says, "Its a pretty sunny day!" or some other complimentary remark on the new day that awaits us, I am delighted, but not at all surprised.
However, when out of the blue, he says what I've never heard, and what I am in fact too distracted to even think: "Its good to be together again." I want to kiss his feet. Daddy had to walk out of the room with tears in his eyes.
Son, you are adorable. Today, you drew so many wonderful, creative pictures, telling stories to yourself as your doodles took on life and shape simultaneously. You wrote you name: iMANA and were only cooperative and a joy to be with (of course, a little nagging here and there to try to get me to play with you because I was trying to finish a proposal and on the computer for too long to be a really Perfect Day, but did finish because you and Asante were adaptable enough to entertain yourselves and be so easy going.
Tonight, at dinner, when we finally sat down at 9pm, (15 min. late- you waited for me while I indulged in a hot shower with tangerine-lavender sugar scrub I made), and we had our chicken ceasar salad, chicken noodle soup, and fougasse on the table, Daddy was telling a story about how Thelma was teaching the two little boy goats to but-heads. But he ALWAYS says "Selma" instead of "Thelma" and it drives me crazy. Why oh why can't we acknowledge that this isn't her name and try to say it right? I am sure you can enunciate the "th" sound. Here, let me make you try, interrupt your story, and make you feel badly.
Amani, thank you for speaking up and saying, "He can say it however he wants to."
Yes, he really did say that.
Asante, you have been the most angelic baby, filled with smiles since day one. When I labored with you, I was sitting in our outdoor bathtub looking at rainbows and oak trees. Seriously. All of my dreams and imaginings of the day had come true, and I will always remember that feeling of utter peace while my body changed to make room for your birth. Then wham bam and off to the birthing center (I'm sure you've heard the story, of how I called the emergency number on the way in, but they didn't pass the message to the midwives. So when we got there at 6.30ish, a half-hour after closing, the doors were locked and we thought you were going to be born in the parking lot. Just in time, the new midwife (Kathy?), who happened to be staying after hours to familiarize herself with the office, opened up for us, and let us in, checking me only to confirm that, yes indeed, mama is not fibbing, THE BABY IS ON THE WAY! Water was started and your father carried me the whole way. He delivered me quickly and gracefully into the tub where I had imagined I would be delivering you. I guess somewhere there is a video I haven't watched yet. Maybe for your first birthday ;-)
We brought you home to paradise, and perhaps because of this, I am absolutely convinced that you were already smiling happily in your first week of life. There will be those who say it is gas, but darling, you would always smile when I sang. How is it possible that I haven't yet gotten over my shyness???
I love you, thank you for being perfection, thank you for creating a paradise in which to be born, and thank you for being gratitude itself!
Now, I tell folks you have an international reputation for being smiley, charming and adorable. Carmen calls you "Riesón" (I'll have to check that, but it means Smiley). Magreth in Tanzania says she misses your smile, you two connected, I know she really does! The entire Malisa family was taken with your smile and love of people, as well as all of our friends and all of Sebastopol! I am not exaggerating about your reputation darling! Even now, last night you had just been the center of attention, learning to walk with your Babu, brother and Daddy. So you walked right out the front door of the kitchen! But you wanted to be seen. You opened the screen to peek back in, and I said "Boo!", we both LAUGHED AND LAUGHED! Over and over again, "Abre-Cierra, Abre-HAHAHAH!-Cierra, Abre-HAHAHAHA!-Cierra" With wide mouths and shining eyes, we laughed and looked deep into each others souls. Oh how wonderful it is to connect with you!
But, you must know, you are very difficult these nights! Thrashing, crying, nursing you is a painful experience but there seems to be nothing else that will soothe you at night, even though it seems sometimes that this barely does. Perhaps your teeth hurt (you are cutting your fifth and sixth), perhaps you are growing, or your tummy hurts because we don't feed you baby food. Whatever it is, you are trouble. In the daytime, you can also be trouble. Sometimes, we just play. You love to play swords with your brother, and you love to take a bath. Water is the most exciting game for you. If the door is cracked, or we are outside for a snack of frozen blueberries, (like we were today) you will simply crawl out into the garden while I peek on you every once in awhile and relish the opportunity to "get stuff done". Usually, when I see you, you are teething on a wood chip. Looks pretty satisfying to me! Perhaps a little dirt in the mouth (some studies trace playing in the dirt to increased immunity and serotonin production- so there you go my healthy and happy baby!)
Darling, today I tried to put you down to nap on a comfy blanket, under the bamboo tee-"pea", shaded by the pear tree (dubbed The Giving Tree). Immediately when you detected that I would not be holding you, you squirmed and cried, thrashed and sat yourself up. But instead of crying again until I put you down properly for nap. You smiled and cruised around in the tee-pee for another half-hour or more while I watered and cleaned up the greenhouse. What a love.
Suffice it to say, I am enjoying you both enormously. It is 3am now, and I would love to write about other things going on in my life, but I'll save that boring stuff for another day.
But Asante, now 10 months and taking his first steps, has done so many memorable things, but writing about it, in the moment, ahhhh, that is where the juice is. Of course, all of us, all of our moments are being battled for by the many tasks, distractions, joys, responsibilities.
So, yesterday: Amani was helping me in the kitchen in Spanish, after a renewed sense of joy and purpose in teaching him that came from talking with my dad on the long drive up the CA I-5 after being gone for a week for Spring Break. Tino/Baba Amani/Daddy walks in. Perhaps he was wiping his colored eggs, washing a dish, or pretending he could speak Spanish. Amani says, "It's good to be together again."
I say I love you a lot, so I am not surprised that Amani does too. I think I am fairly agreeable (at least with him!) and I say sure a lot, so he does too. I guess I say "Actually" and shamefully and inexplicably "Look-it", so Amani has adopted those expressions as well. It is my instinct to say something positive first thing in the morning to these boys, and so when Amani continuously wakes up and says, "Its a pretty sunny day!" or some other complimentary remark on the new day that awaits us, I am delighted, but not at all surprised.
However, when out of the blue, he says what I've never heard, and what I am in fact too distracted to even think: "Its good to be together again." I want to kiss his feet. Daddy had to walk out of the room with tears in his eyes.
Son, you are adorable. Today, you drew so many wonderful, creative pictures, telling stories to yourself as your doodles took on life and shape simultaneously. You wrote you name: iMANA and were only cooperative and a joy to be with (of course, a little nagging here and there to try to get me to play with you because I was trying to finish a proposal and on the computer for too long to be a really Perfect Day, but did finish because you and Asante were adaptable enough to entertain yourselves and be so easy going.
Tonight, at dinner, when we finally sat down at 9pm, (15 min. late- you waited for me while I indulged in a hot shower with tangerine-lavender sugar scrub I made), and we had our chicken ceasar salad, chicken noodle soup, and fougasse on the table, Daddy was telling a story about how Thelma was teaching the two little boy goats to but-heads. But he ALWAYS says "Selma" instead of "Thelma" and it drives me crazy. Why oh why can't we acknowledge that this isn't her name and try to say it right? I am sure you can enunciate the "th" sound. Here, let me make you try, interrupt your story, and make you feel badly.
Amani, thank you for speaking up and saying, "He can say it however he wants to."
Yes, he really did say that.
Asante, you have been the most angelic baby, filled with smiles since day one. When I labored with you, I was sitting in our outdoor bathtub looking at rainbows and oak trees. Seriously. All of my dreams and imaginings of the day had come true, and I will always remember that feeling of utter peace while my body changed to make room for your birth. Then wham bam and off to the birthing center (I'm sure you've heard the story, of how I called the emergency number on the way in, but they didn't pass the message to the midwives. So when we got there at 6.30ish, a half-hour after closing, the doors were locked and we thought you were going to be born in the parking lot. Just in time, the new midwife (Kathy?), who happened to be staying after hours to familiarize herself with the office, opened up for us, and let us in, checking me only to confirm that, yes indeed, mama is not fibbing, THE BABY IS ON THE WAY! Water was started and your father carried me the whole way. He delivered me quickly and gracefully into the tub where I had imagined I would be delivering you. I guess somewhere there is a video I haven't watched yet. Maybe for your first birthday ;-)
We brought you home to paradise, and perhaps because of this, I am absolutely convinced that you were already smiling happily in your first week of life. There will be those who say it is gas, but darling, you would always smile when I sang. How is it possible that I haven't yet gotten over my shyness???
I love you, thank you for being perfection, thank you for creating a paradise in which to be born, and thank you for being gratitude itself!
Now, I tell folks you have an international reputation for being smiley, charming and adorable. Carmen calls you "Riesón" (I'll have to check that, but it means Smiley). Magreth in Tanzania says she misses your smile, you two connected, I know she really does! The entire Malisa family was taken with your smile and love of people, as well as all of our friends and all of Sebastopol! I am not exaggerating about your reputation darling! Even now, last night you had just been the center of attention, learning to walk with your Babu, brother and Daddy. So you walked right out the front door of the kitchen! But you wanted to be seen. You opened the screen to peek back in, and I said "Boo!", we both LAUGHED AND LAUGHED! Over and over again, "Abre-Cierra, Abre-HAHAHAH!-Cierra, Abre-HAHAHAHA!-Cierra" With wide mouths and shining eyes, we laughed and looked deep into each others souls. Oh how wonderful it is to connect with you!
But, you must know, you are very difficult these nights! Thrashing, crying, nursing you is a painful experience but there seems to be nothing else that will soothe you at night, even though it seems sometimes that this barely does. Perhaps your teeth hurt (you are cutting your fifth and sixth), perhaps you are growing, or your tummy hurts because we don't feed you baby food. Whatever it is, you are trouble. In the daytime, you can also be trouble. Sometimes, we just play. You love to play swords with your brother, and you love to take a bath. Water is the most exciting game for you. If the door is cracked, or we are outside for a snack of frozen blueberries, (like we were today) you will simply crawl out into the garden while I peek on you every once in awhile and relish the opportunity to "get stuff done". Usually, when I see you, you are teething on a wood chip. Looks pretty satisfying to me! Perhaps a little dirt in the mouth (some studies trace playing in the dirt to increased immunity and serotonin production- so there you go my healthy and happy baby!)
Darling, today I tried to put you down to nap on a comfy blanket, under the bamboo tee-"pea", shaded by the pear tree (dubbed The Giving Tree). Immediately when you detected that I would not be holding you, you squirmed and cried, thrashed and sat yourself up. But instead of crying again until I put you down properly for nap. You smiled and cruised around in the tee-pee for another half-hour or more while I watered and cleaned up the greenhouse. What a love.
Suffice it to say, I am enjoying you both enormously. It is 3am now, and I would love to write about other things going on in my life, but I'll save that boring stuff for another day.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Where I'm comin' from, to know where I'm going?
There are so many strange things afoot in the world. The truth is, life is perfect. But at the same time, I don't feel at peace, and am having trouble tolerating the soreness from a baby kicking and growing in my belly and have two and a half months to go!
Perhaps I feel strange because so much is pie in the sky, because best friends are new friends, the things I believe in sometimes seem so contradictory to the way the world runs, because I need a consistent schedule... I am not sure.
Vision boards. Sasha and I are determined to manifest our visions and begin with a day of vision boards. We've already begun. She has manifested the rustic playhouse and country living, I, after the country cottage, the community (Sasha, Luca, the Hardings and surrounded by old friends), and now flooring, a greenhouse, french doors, baby goat on the way, glorious garden to follow (but notice, all of this is in the future tense.)
I need to begin to focus on what I have.
That is what is getting me. The lack of meditation. The lack of serenity. It feels like absolutely everything is a reach for something that is not here yet, and it is destabilizing to be sure.
The MESA income, the CISA program.
The graduation, the dream career. The fellowship, the trip to Tanzania, the trip to the snow, the trip to Mexico, plans for friends/family to visit, the grants, the curriculum, the brochure to advertise the program! Phew! It all feels, not in my hands!
HEALTHY BABY.
I still fear the baby will be born cyclops, or flipper. I guess I remember sort of joking about that with Amani, but really, I don't take for granted that I will have a healthy, perfect baby again. Quite the contrary to the point where it might just be getting in the way. It is so hard to connect to this baby: no time, no stuff, trying to make sure Amani doesn't loose his place, no gender knowledge, fear of fever, age, diet, medicines, or luck affecting the little one.
I've spent about six weeks quite ill this winter, and the sun is finally coming out.
Amani's birthday Friday was perfection, thanks to the impromptu willingness of Sasha and Luca to hike with us, and the fantastic performance of Hillcrest students doing Beauty and the Beast.
Saturday was insanity and I was glad for it all to end at Chuck E. Cheese.
Sunday was a gorgeous day of going to Petaluma in the morning and picking up lovely flooring for the house and hopefully the play room for $50. Then breakfast at the Tea Room with Sasha and Luca. It was sweet! Austin's party was great, the kids in a good mood, teachers and students were great today, "That was the best Spanish class ever!" Personal connections on the computers again, love that, miss that. Keri is such a great principal to me, so exactly what I like to work with, professional, energetic, positive. Could I keep the job and go to TZ? Could I work part time or full? Could I teach there while staying on as teacher and grant writer at MESA, making money?
This would be great for a year while the baby is small.
Tino works on the farm, and interns as a phlebotomist, eventually landing a job as such.
The future doesn't sound bleak. At this point in time, I just want to be able to afford to go to the dentist, and have health care when needed, to be able to contribute in a meaningful way to the things I love, maintaining and building strong connections, and growing and expanding the ability to educate farmers and communities on ecological living nationally and internationally.
Got to get that brochure!
Got to stop. meditate.
Perhaps I feel strange because so much is pie in the sky, because best friends are new friends, the things I believe in sometimes seem so contradictory to the way the world runs, because I need a consistent schedule... I am not sure.
Vision boards. Sasha and I are determined to manifest our visions and begin with a day of vision boards. We've already begun. She has manifested the rustic playhouse and country living, I, after the country cottage, the community (Sasha, Luca, the Hardings and surrounded by old friends), and now flooring, a greenhouse, french doors, baby goat on the way, glorious garden to follow (but notice, all of this is in the future tense.)
I need to begin to focus on what I have.
That is what is getting me. The lack of meditation. The lack of serenity. It feels like absolutely everything is a reach for something that is not here yet, and it is destabilizing to be sure.
The MESA income, the CISA program.
The graduation, the dream career. The fellowship, the trip to Tanzania, the trip to the snow, the trip to Mexico, plans for friends/family to visit, the grants, the curriculum, the brochure to advertise the program! Phew! It all feels, not in my hands!
HEALTHY BABY.
I still fear the baby will be born cyclops, or flipper. I guess I remember sort of joking about that with Amani, but really, I don't take for granted that I will have a healthy, perfect baby again. Quite the contrary to the point where it might just be getting in the way. It is so hard to connect to this baby: no time, no stuff, trying to make sure Amani doesn't loose his place, no gender knowledge, fear of fever, age, diet, medicines, or luck affecting the little one.
I've spent about six weeks quite ill this winter, and the sun is finally coming out.
Amani's birthday Friday was perfection, thanks to the impromptu willingness of Sasha and Luca to hike with us, and the fantastic performance of Hillcrest students doing Beauty and the Beast.
Saturday was insanity and I was glad for it all to end at Chuck E. Cheese.
Sunday was a gorgeous day of going to Petaluma in the morning and picking up lovely flooring for the house and hopefully the play room for $50. Then breakfast at the Tea Room with Sasha and Luca. It was sweet! Austin's party was great, the kids in a good mood, teachers and students were great today, "That was the best Spanish class ever!" Personal connections on the computers again, love that, miss that. Keri is such a great principal to me, so exactly what I like to work with, professional, energetic, positive. Could I keep the job and go to TZ? Could I work part time or full? Could I teach there while staying on as teacher and grant writer at MESA, making money?
This would be great for a year while the baby is small.
Tino works on the farm, and interns as a phlebotomist, eventually landing a job as such.
The future doesn't sound bleak. At this point in time, I just want to be able to afford to go to the dentist, and have health care when needed, to be able to contribute in a meaningful way to the things I love, maintaining and building strong connections, and growing and expanding the ability to educate farmers and communities on ecological living nationally and internationally.
Got to get that brochure!
Got to stop. meditate.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Rosemary for Remembrance, Dragonflies, Hawks and Sunflowers.
Whatta day! This morning I woke up, got Amani ready to go to gymnastics with Luca and Sasha, double checked on the time for Morgan's memorial, and remembered it was Tino and my anniversary.
While Tino is always the one to ensure that my shoes are polished and clothes are pressed before we head out the door, he has been so busy studying, I had to beg him first to go to the memorial with me, then inform him that his work uniform was not appropriate. We are paying respects, look respectable, quite simply.
Morgan. How many tears I cried, and how close to you and all who love you I feel! Thank you thank you for giving me that closeness and that love. I've been overwhelmed, under the weather, feeling like I was losing touch, not reaching out to the things and the ones who made me... It felt very good to go to the memorial. It felt very good to see how many people feel exactly the same way. It felt very good, reiterating with them how Morgan could not possibly be forgotten, some of the very brightest that shines through me comes directly from her. What an angel, what a woman to know. How blessed I feel to have been seen and touched by her. With my stuffy nose, I went through a box of tissues on my own, crying until I was puffy faced. Then was able to see Jimmy, Mike and Kelly, and also Guy, and exchange good hugs, good love, good penetrating looks, and good words. It made me feel more connected. Then the hawk spirit sent all of the people I had been thinking of to our doorstep today, just about, and it was a fantastic day of impromptu visits and simple goodness.
Amani, Luca and I went to Oliver's to pick Tino up, and the cruised around Oliver's excitedly putting things in their cart. But under control, happily, choosing fruits, sweet potatoes, juice, milk, syrup for tomorrow's pancakes. It was fun. Then we all held hands and walked in the big drizzle drops through the wet, lamplit parking lot to the Chinese restaurant, and ate and ate and ate.
The entire time, I kept thinking back to Morgan, in that each shot of her, there is a special glow. That special glow that makes each moment flawless. That turns off the fluorescent lights of the restaurant, takes the stains off the floor, makes the lanterns glow red, with fireflies dancing and perfectly warm, delicious food. Obviously it wasn't like that, but I felt like it was. Playing house with Tino, while Luca and Amani practiced playing. We had a great time. I feel so completely blessed.
There are so many things we forget, and time does fly. I might enjoy my work, but don't want to forget why I am doing it, my other obligations, other talents, and other needs.
Overall, I feel in perfect gratitude.
And there is every reason in the world, to keep journaling, about the development of this baby, and of life. It makes it last longer.
While Tino is always the one to ensure that my shoes are polished and clothes are pressed before we head out the door, he has been so busy studying, I had to beg him first to go to the memorial with me, then inform him that his work uniform was not appropriate. We are paying respects, look respectable, quite simply.
Morgan. How many tears I cried, and how close to you and all who love you I feel! Thank you thank you for giving me that closeness and that love. I've been overwhelmed, under the weather, feeling like I was losing touch, not reaching out to the things and the ones who made me... It felt very good to go to the memorial. It felt very good to see how many people feel exactly the same way. It felt very good, reiterating with them how Morgan could not possibly be forgotten, some of the very brightest that shines through me comes directly from her. What an angel, what a woman to know. How blessed I feel to have been seen and touched by her. With my stuffy nose, I went through a box of tissues on my own, crying until I was puffy faced. Then was able to see Jimmy, Mike and Kelly, and also Guy, and exchange good hugs, good love, good penetrating looks, and good words. It made me feel more connected. Then the hawk spirit sent all of the people I had been thinking of to our doorstep today, just about, and it was a fantastic day of impromptu visits and simple goodness.
Amani, Luca and I went to Oliver's to pick Tino up, and the cruised around Oliver's excitedly putting things in their cart. But under control, happily, choosing fruits, sweet potatoes, juice, milk, syrup for tomorrow's pancakes. It was fun. Then we all held hands and walked in the big drizzle drops through the wet, lamplit parking lot to the Chinese restaurant, and ate and ate and ate.
The entire time, I kept thinking back to Morgan, in that each shot of her, there is a special glow. That special glow that makes each moment flawless. That turns off the fluorescent lights of the restaurant, takes the stains off the floor, makes the lanterns glow red, with fireflies dancing and perfectly warm, delicious food. Obviously it wasn't like that, but I felt like it was. Playing house with Tino, while Luca and Amani practiced playing. We had a great time. I feel so completely blessed.
There are so many things we forget, and time does fly. I might enjoy my work, but don't want to forget why I am doing it, my other obligations, other talents, and other needs.
Overall, I feel in perfect gratitude.
And there is every reason in the world, to keep journaling, about the development of this baby, and of life. It makes it last longer.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Another Bridge
It is December 12, 2010. My dad and Laurie just got back from Tanzania, a Peace Corps caliber journey they had. A quick phone call informed me that John has diabetes and Jubilathi has Parkinsons. We are, what now? 14 weeks pregnant? I had a fever of 102 off and on for about three days, so beside everything else to worry about, has an otherwise healthy baby been affected by some brain damage or other "birth defect"? We confirmed there is a heartbeat, so my greatest concern has been put to rest. But my goodness, deep down, I somehow feel invincible. Invincible enough to think that likely, nothing has happened, all will be well. And if something has, I am (we are) invincible enough to handle it.
Deep down, I am not sweating bullets, I am not obsessing. For better or for worse, that is just the way I am I guess. Does it make me less of a mother? Phoey on such thoughts.
But there are somethings that I've wanted to update about Amani's progress. What I should post here are some of his drawings. Beautiful drawings, his focus is so rewarding to observe. But just now, what he said inspired me to open this blog up again, who to tell? Facebookies?
Amani is peeling of the crayon wrappers again, and I am telling him not to, again. I tell him why, that the crayons will break, he will dirty the house. He interupts to say, "Mama, remember when I was peeling the crayons yesterday?" Yes, I do. "And I told you to stop talking to me?" Yes, I do (hoping he would acknowledge that "that wasn't nice").
"Stop talking to me." he says with a wry smile.
Ouch, I frown and get online to share my mothers pride at his wit.
Things Amani says these days: He still says "Fiskit" instead of Fix it, which I love!
He says Buzz Lighter, and quotes "To infinity and beyond!"
Today we said "reach" and he remembered woody, and quoted, "Reach by the sky." "For the sky" "No, by the sky"
ok.
His constant companion is Luca, which is wonderful, but they are certainly learning how to be mischevious together. He follows everything she does, and as she is 3 and a half, and her mama has already stated that she can see Luca being the one to hand her buddies joints when she is older, "C'mon! What are you afraid of?" I too relish the thought of my son's preserved innocence and total corruption by this older woman. They are a wonderful play team, Luca is very good to Amani, looks after him and definitely shows how much she loves him. We sometimes think they act like an old married couple, being mindlessly considerate of each other, and then bickering like dogs.
Amani began Preschool this year at Gravenstein, which was a big adjustment, but he seems to be doing quite well. What I am still hoping (trying) to do is to reach out to some parents and have play dates with his buddies at school, so he might feel better adjusted there.
He also still goes to Carmen's, but I really miss having Kique there.
Tino has finished his Phlebotomy course, but waiting for final results. So far, it is close, will he have to repeat, or not? Either way, I truly think he did a fantastic job. The job itself, if and when it comes, would certainly tie us to here, but my goodness, here isn't such a bad place to be.
I still often mention, "lets just go to Tanzania." But it is hard to compromise our life here. I also still regret, especially pregnant the second time around, after promising number to would be THERE, and it doesn't look like it will, I regret not having spent more time with Tino's family the first time around. Anna has already passed and never met Amani. Jubilathi and John, not doing well.... Its tough, this is intercontinental life. I don't know when we will get back. Next year? Next decade?
Amani just kissed my belly.
The sweetness and the blessings outweigh so much of the rest. But I fear it is "out of sight, out of ... mind."
It isn't on my mind so much, it is in the back of my mind. Perhaps seeing Dad's pictures will change that, but likely, nothing will be done. Tino is the one who is making the decisions these days on when to stay and when to go.
We are waiting for his citizenship, this is wise. We are penniless, and without jobs there. Moving unwise. So I have become obsessed with building onto our house, building the greenhouse, getting ducks and turkeys in the spring, baby goats, more eggs and chickens, spending time relaxing here after the baby is born. What do I mean relaxing? i mean, puttering around the property, hiking around the land, spending time digging in the dirt, and being with a new baby, breastfeeding as long as possible. Will we make it to Tanzania? If not, when will I be able to see Saidi?
If so, when will we come back? Will I work? Part time teach again? Make enough consulting for MESA? haha- dream dream.
It is different this time around. I was so strong last pregnancy. Now I am surrounded by support. I still have lots of deadlines, I am still studying, but this time it feels focused, not desperate. It feels purposeful and rewarding, not nerve wracking.
I like my work with MESA, and expect to graduate, but then what? What will I do? Keep teaching... ? will I work in general non-profit development? In ag? In health? Hard to know, but lots of work to do in the meantime, that I've hardly time to worry about these things. I have a general sense of faith. What we have now is delightful. There are many years of life to be lived, and life changes, indeed, it is guaranteed to do so, for our family sometime around June 2011.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Recording, back on.
It has been a rainy day in Sebastopol. The house is clean and organized (except for Amani's clothes, we'll get to that next weekend.) My homework is done, and it is time to prepare for my Principal's observation this Wednesday. I feel relaxed, well feed on roasted chicken, and still basking in a glow of "shukurani" that I've enjoyed all day.
How interesting that the last post I managed to make on this old thing was the day I lost the massage job!
"My Spice Mountain" was supposed to be about overcoming those hurdles, and yet I left it a big, dark place that not have I not really had the time to return to, but I haven't known how to deal with it. And what about putting all of my issues online? Should I be embarrassed about that?
Naw.....
It is amazing how things have turned around.
I am still crazy and have incredibly bad habits. But I feel so profoundly satisfied. I feel proud. Of my family and of my own accomplishments. It couldn't be a more polar sentiment to what I was going through during my last post.
Certain bad habits include that I sent in a resume and application for a job in Tanzania right now in the middle of my first year of teaching, and right after my husband found a job that he loves, working with friends, and we are all happy here. But, it is good practice and a bit of good fun, even if sleepless.
The, ahem, cue to action, for me to come back and begin work here has been an inability to send photos on gmail. Very annoying indeed. But I will try to post them hear.
Going on and on selfishly about my petty concerns is quite easy for me, but where to begin when it comes to bragging about my son?
there are so many amazing things that he does EVERYDAY, how can I summarize that growth? I've felt guilty for not recording things better.
As a toast to myself for simply getting back in the groove, and also to continue some necessary preparations, I will simply share my current favorite picture.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
It is exactly 11:37. On my clock, which is relative. I should meditate. Run tomorrow. Maybe that is what I will do. Or should I journal, look for jobs. Another one bites the dust. I lost my massage job today. So Tino, Elias and I went to the park. I made him go to the park with me, he almost bailed on me. I can't lose my job and come home and clean the house. Sit in the house. This is something I needed. Maybe. It is necessary to tell oneself such things in these kinds of times. But it certainly is making forward moving moves more difficult. Of course, I have felt that I have been peddling hard and fast, and getting nowhere. This is proof of that. So, whereas I initially felt that I had a lot of shit to work out, that this was journal time... I don't feel so much that way at this moment. Occasionally I will remember and feel sick to my stomach. But that has been going on for awhile. I have been wrestling with being a crooked person, aware of a dark, dark cloud that seems to have attached itself to me. It is coming between me and the world and makes me see things darker than they are, and to appear to others as darker as I am.
These cloud things can and do exist.
Tino told me today that he met one of our friends on the street. She asked if he had been able to land a job yet and he said no. She got a tear in her eye, and he laughed when he told me the story, "I just couldn't tell her about you too!"
It does have its humorous part too.
Well, I have been crooked, I have doubted myself, questioned myself, been creepy, and fiercely negative. I may have been able to make choices that would have made life easier, but it certainly is about what I do with these choices, and I haven't been proving myself worthy of the blessings so far. This must change. Something is shifting, somewhere between acceptance and perseverance, I am finally learning to be a strong woman.
These cloud things can and do exist.
Tino told me today that he met one of our friends on the street. She asked if he had been able to land a job yet and he said no. She got a tear in her eye, and he laughed when he told me the story, "I just couldn't tell her about you too!"
It does have its humorous part too.
Well, I have been crooked, I have doubted myself, questioned myself, been creepy, and fiercely negative. I may have been able to make choices that would have made life easier, but it certainly is about what I do with these choices, and I haven't been proving myself worthy of the blessings so far. This must change. Something is shifting, somewhere between acceptance and perseverance, I am finally learning to be a strong woman.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
baseline
Think, indicate, then move.
Just follow those simple directions, and we will not have the couple's drama in the car every time we go home.
I found tonight that I was not able to simply close my eyes, release, and have faith that my husband would get me home safely. I had to annoy him with my directions, suggestions, and exclamations. How could I have come from such a lovely day, gotten in the car and turned into a monster? Of course, it was all resolved just fine, but on the 57 freeway, I was working very hard to try to find the peace within.
Instead, I found another picture entirely.
Just follow those simple directions, and we will not have the couple's drama in the car every time we go home.
I found tonight that I was not able to simply close my eyes, release, and have faith that my husband would get me home safely. I had to annoy him with my directions, suggestions, and exclamations. How could I have come from such a lovely day, gotten in the car and turned into a monster? Of course, it was all resolved just fine, but on the 57 freeway, I was working very hard to try to find the peace within.
Instead, I found another picture entirely.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Issues...
I never know where to begin. That is one of my issues.
I want to do it all, and say it all, but I find editing cumbersome.
Did someone say they were a little down in the last email? Possibly.
So, although our boy is the epitome of fun, and opened up the bedroom door today and walked all the way down the stairs by himself, at 13 months, smiling broadly the whole way, I will focus on the me this time around.
Uh, guess what? I have problems in my marriage. It isn't perfect. Ok, so now that the cat is out of the bag, the answer to the question, is that yes, it is partly cultural. It's cultural, and it's him, and it's me. There are some cultural stories I could tell, and I wish I had been telling more all along, but there were just so many! And sometimes, so many, it was just kind of embarrassing. Of course, I embarrass myself by saying such a haughty thing, but that is when I go back to saying, sometimes it's him, and sometimes it's me.
Usually, my husband's patience, quiet calm, unwavering goodness and dedication to family, and the fact that he responds to my outbursts with forgiveness and a back rub, or distance and a considerate chore, or quiet that ends in him sitting me down and telling me how it really is, using Swahili proverbs and simple truths. I see him as someone who has two filing drawers: on that will go directly out the window, never to be heard from again, never to be bothered by again, and the other, goes into feeding his soul. If it is not strengthening, he does not seem to use it. That is how I see him. Obviously, an oversimplification of my husband, but still, I do mean to emphasize the simple part of it.
Simple because that is what I longed for. When it came to relationships, I had begun to feel too judgemental, to doubtful, to insecure. I felt that love needed some basic ingredients, and after those were met, it was simply an issue of not letting the doubt come in. Doubt out the window.
So I fell for him, and decided, it was crazy, but we could make it happen.
Sure, that may be the case, but I have been absolutely riddled, RIDDLED I tell you with doubt and regret and longing for something else. Although I asked for precisely this. I asked for challenges.
There is so much material here that would do me well to explore, will I do it on the blog? Perhaps, what is nice is that it is safe, safely stored in the blogosphere where I can reach back in time and check in with my own progress, without having to organize my notes, or back up my files. I would like to think that most of the readership that I had created has fallen off to the wayside after my posts became sparse, and more or less boring.
Anyway,
how about a story?
A story at Tino's expense? Haha. Surely he will get over it....
So he got a car. That is the background. I was totally resistant, and the purchase of the car for a jobless man, married to an underemployed woman seemed totally fucking backwards, impractical and wasteful, and I was diametrically opposed, but he got it, and I said, ok.
One of the first nights he had it, he went out bowling with some neighbors. I ran off to my work to make some quick copies, and when I was driving back down my street, I saw a cop car had pulled someone over. The first thing I thought is, wow, maybe I will read about this in the local paper, I have never seen someone pulled over on this street before! As I pulled past, I noticed Elias's ball in the back seat of the car that had been pulled over. Tino! I stopped and wondered what to do. You can't just interrupt these things. But neither could I just drive on. That is when the second car, backup!, pulled up. I couldn't believe that they had called back up on him! Oh my god, are they taking away the car? are they taking away my husband? deportation? At this point, I got out of the car, and asked a police officer if I could approach, I was the wife, and thus I witnessed Tino performing a drunk test.
He wasn't drunk, though, no. He had been bowling with Evangelists, and had just come from ice cream. He couldn't have had a more wholesome night out, and here he was... DRUNK?! Well, as it turns out, he had been pulled over for, not having his lights on, getting lost and driving erratically, and not pulling over for the cop.
And he was sober.
Was it cultural? Oh, I admit I have had my run ins with bad driving, but the whole thing just felt so very kijiji, as I, once again, used Swahili for lambasting. But in reality, this time, I wasn't even that upset or embarrassed.
Well, that was a fun story, and of course, I promised I wouldn't tell anyone, so I told a friend of mine who lives far away, and I just posted it here, on the blog, for all who look to see. But like a tree falling in the forest, I think the secret is safe with us, right?
I want to do it all, and say it all, but I find editing cumbersome.
Did someone say they were a little down in the last email? Possibly.
So, although our boy is the epitome of fun, and opened up the bedroom door today and walked all the way down the stairs by himself, at 13 months, smiling broadly the whole way, I will focus on the me this time around.
Uh, guess what? I have problems in my marriage. It isn't perfect. Ok, so now that the cat is out of the bag, the answer to the question, is that yes, it is partly cultural. It's cultural, and it's him, and it's me. There are some cultural stories I could tell, and I wish I had been telling more all along, but there were just so many! And sometimes, so many, it was just kind of embarrassing. Of course, I embarrass myself by saying such a haughty thing, but that is when I go back to saying, sometimes it's him, and sometimes it's me.
Usually, my husband's patience, quiet calm, unwavering goodness and dedication to family, and the fact that he responds to my outbursts with forgiveness and a back rub, or distance and a considerate chore, or quiet that ends in him sitting me down and telling me how it really is, using Swahili proverbs and simple truths. I see him as someone who has two filing drawers: on that will go directly out the window, never to be heard from again, never to be bothered by again, and the other, goes into feeding his soul. If it is not strengthening, he does not seem to use it. That is how I see him. Obviously, an oversimplification of my husband, but still, I do mean to emphasize the simple part of it.
Simple because that is what I longed for. When it came to relationships, I had begun to feel too judgemental, to doubtful, to insecure. I felt that love needed some basic ingredients, and after those were met, it was simply an issue of not letting the doubt come in. Doubt out the window.
So I fell for him, and decided, it was crazy, but we could make it happen.
Sure, that may be the case, but I have been absolutely riddled, RIDDLED I tell you with doubt and regret and longing for something else. Although I asked for precisely this. I asked for challenges.
There is so much material here that would do me well to explore, will I do it on the blog? Perhaps, what is nice is that it is safe, safely stored in the blogosphere where I can reach back in time and check in with my own progress, without having to organize my notes, or back up my files. I would like to think that most of the readership that I had created has fallen off to the wayside after my posts became sparse, and more or less boring.
Anyway,
how about a story?
A story at Tino's expense? Haha. Surely he will get over it....
So he got a car. That is the background. I was totally resistant, and the purchase of the car for a jobless man, married to an underemployed woman seemed totally fucking backwards, impractical and wasteful, and I was diametrically opposed, but he got it, and I said, ok.
One of the first nights he had it, he went out bowling with some neighbors. I ran off to my work to make some quick copies, and when I was driving back down my street, I saw a cop car had pulled someone over. The first thing I thought is, wow, maybe I will read about this in the local paper, I have never seen someone pulled over on this street before! As I pulled past, I noticed Elias's ball in the back seat of the car that had been pulled over. Tino! I stopped and wondered what to do. You can't just interrupt these things. But neither could I just drive on. That is when the second car, backup!, pulled up. I couldn't believe that they had called back up on him! Oh my god, are they taking away the car? are they taking away my husband? deportation? At this point, I got out of the car, and asked a police officer if I could approach, I was the wife, and thus I witnessed Tino performing a drunk test.
He wasn't drunk, though, no. He had been bowling with Evangelists, and had just come from ice cream. He couldn't have had a more wholesome night out, and here he was... DRUNK?! Well, as it turns out, he had been pulled over for, not having his lights on, getting lost and driving erratically, and not pulling over for the cop.
And he was sober.
Was it cultural? Oh, I admit I have had my run ins with bad driving, but the whole thing just felt so very kijiji, as I, once again, used Swahili for lambasting. But in reality, this time, I wasn't even that upset or embarrassed.
Well, that was a fun story, and of course, I promised I wouldn't tell anyone, so I told a friend of mine who lives far away, and I just posted it here, on the blog, for all who look to see. But like a tree falling in the forest, I think the secret is safe with us, right?
Friday, April 24, 2009
Elias walks!
My aunt Sandy and Uncle Tom, who I haven't seen for about 10 years, came to visit. Elias began walking toward the door, me holding his fingers, and we heard him say, "I'm going." Next thing you know, he is walking. He walked well on Easter, we thought that would be the day, but it wasn't. Then in line for A Small World at Disneyland, but he didn't want to keep practicing after a string of successful steps. Now this, this might be it.
Bittersweet, of course. To add to the scenario, it was also Daddy's day: he gave another talk on Africa in a school, then went to a job interview that he was very pleased with at Rancho Santa Ana Botanical Garden, and then took his new car down to Dad's. Pretty good stuff. Myself, I took a test and suffered the day tired and absorbed in depression. Too bad.
Bittersweet, of course. To add to the scenario, it was also Daddy's day: he gave another talk on Africa in a school, then went to a job interview that he was very pleased with at Rancho Santa Ana Botanical Garden, and then took his new car down to Dad's. Pretty good stuff. Myself, I took a test and suffered the day tired and absorbed in depression. Too bad.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
The Usual Suspects
Elias is Verbal! Strings of sentences with the intonation of emotion and correct punctuation, followed by giggles and sometimes guffaws, and sounding like Chinese. But he makes more sense in our languages, and is like a parrot really. He even busted me the other day for saying J-E-S-U-S. Ooops. Most famously, he says "Obama." His favorite word, because he gets more attention for that than, Mama, Dadda, and Hi combined. So we took him to see the President the other day, when Barack Obama came to visit Pomona. Michelle Obama is putting a school garden into the White House, and every time I hear any news of the this wonderful family, I am proud.
Anyway, he has said it to much, Tino finally told him that the word has expired and he needs to find another name... Elias promptly responded, "Kobe." So my mom was happy.
Several things he can name in both Swahili and English- though I think he still gets a little confused. He knocks on a door if we say "Knock-Knock" and also says "Hodi!" He will say "baby" but also "toto", he says dog and mbwa (which actually sounds a lot like the woof-woof, which I'd never realized before goes with my oniomipea theory of Swahili, but Elias does a good and distinctive woof-woof apart, when he is feeling goofy.) He says tree and mti, so similar I think he doesn't get the difference, and he says, tweet tweet for bird, which he doesn't seem to confuse, even though the birds are often in the trees.) Today he said 'boy'' and pointed to a picture of a boy in his nursery rhyme book. He loves his new Elmo book, and although he still needs to be prompted, says his name. This past week I think he has been missing his daycare, because he will suddenly come up with 'Hola.' He woke up on Wednesday, stood up in his crib, and said Hola to us. I could of sworn it was followed by Como estas? But, regardless, he obviously derives much joy from the word, which I think speaks to how much he enjoys his school. We all love the bright orange daycare. I must get them another docena of tamales. Everywhere we go, he points to a light and says 'Taa!' Which is correct, and we just really aren't bothering to teach him another word at this point. So it is with other perfect swahili words, "kuku' for chicken, ''saa' for clock. Its just easier. But all words will come. He says nyota. But I am sure that he understands "star' as well. I mean, here I am just going down my mental list, but it really is so amazing to observe the parroting capacity that we have as humans. If this pace of learning were to keep up.... man! But I am sure it does, which is exactly what becomes the problem. Learning, teaching, discussing, playing, resting, enjoying. Can we do this forever?
Friday, February 13, 2009
Another memorable day...
Elias went to the hospital again yesterday. Daddy sang Happy Birthday for him in the morning (11 months) and later in the afternoon, it was his turn to ride in the ambulance with him. Now we are even, and lets pray that we are done!
The two of them were on the bike, riding downtown on a sunny day. They started the trip and Elias was singing in the backseat, but by the time Tino approached the colleges, he heard the baby grun and choke and looked around to find the blue lips and shaking body that terrify. Daddy quickly tore off baby's helmet and clothes and put him on the cool grass and called for help. Daddy had no cel phone at that moment, but luckily, everyone else in the world does, so it wasn't long before the ambulance was on the way. I feel a little like a schmuck. Partly I heed the words of doctors that some babies just seize easily, but partly I feel like a negligent parent. He is healthy now, healthy as a horse, but that doesn't change the fact that a day after this scare, I am home with Elias cleaning, and he crawls over to the wall and starts trying to plug the vacuum cleaner in! Sheesh! Then, crawls up four stairs to reach me while I am moving things upstairs. Ha ha. I think phew, crisis averted, but nooo. The fun has just begun...
Other fun things Eli has done this past week, he sings the tune of "No more monkeys jumping on the bed" and he shakes his finger like the Dr.
He woke Rhyan up and smiled at her and said, "Hello!"
He says "Hi" and "Mambo" "Poa" a lot, says bottle often when he wants a bottle and is pointing to family members by name.
Now, this isn't ALL the time, but he does it, has done it, and it is amazing to see what he is capable of. It doesn't surprise me that he can understand complex swahili and complex english at the same time, actually. But it is the third language of Spanish that I wonder about and was recently warned about.
Elias's favorite toys are, putting the tiny caps on ball point pens, drawing with them, playing the flute, putting the shapes in the right hole (still a challenge, but he gets into it!). I feel satisfied because although he gets frustrated, it seems to be a sign of pride and determination with his work, but it doesn't seem to be overriding his efforts. I am so glad.
Another thing I find interesting is that Elias's tendency is to put things together (like the pens) and to put things back (he likes to put things in a box, his toys in a basket, to file books back on the shelf.)
I am not saying that he won't create chaos, and certainly, I expect him to be a typical child with toys that are always in the middle of a game, and so, in the middle of the floor. But I am interested to see how this initial tendency might play out for him. The deal I made with him anyway was that he would have to help me keep it together if he came into the world as my son. Son, you will be the one who gets me places on time.
This is the challenge I lay upon myself in the coming week, as a tangible change I can make now that will dramatically effect my life. GOOD LUCK!
We love you Eli, you are so much fun to be with !!
The two of them were on the bike, riding downtown on a sunny day. They started the trip and Elias was singing in the backseat, but by the time Tino approached the colleges, he heard the baby grun and choke and looked around to find the blue lips and shaking body that terrify. Daddy quickly tore off baby's helmet and clothes and put him on the cool grass and called for help. Daddy had no cel phone at that moment, but luckily, everyone else in the world does, so it wasn't long before the ambulance was on the way. I feel a little like a schmuck. Partly I heed the words of doctors that some babies just seize easily, but partly I feel like a negligent parent. He is healthy now, healthy as a horse, but that doesn't change the fact that a day after this scare, I am home with Elias cleaning, and he crawls over to the wall and starts trying to plug the vacuum cleaner in! Sheesh! Then, crawls up four stairs to reach me while I am moving things upstairs. Ha ha. I think phew, crisis averted, but nooo. The fun has just begun...
Other fun things Eli has done this past week, he sings the tune of "No more monkeys jumping on the bed" and he shakes his finger like the Dr.
He woke Rhyan up and smiled at her and said, "Hello!"
He says "Hi" and "Mambo" "Poa" a lot, says bottle often when he wants a bottle and is pointing to family members by name.
Now, this isn't ALL the time, but he does it, has done it, and it is amazing to see what he is capable of. It doesn't surprise me that he can understand complex swahili and complex english at the same time, actually. But it is the third language of Spanish that I wonder about and was recently warned about.
Elias's favorite toys are, putting the tiny caps on ball point pens, drawing with them, playing the flute, putting the shapes in the right hole (still a challenge, but he gets into it!). I feel satisfied because although he gets frustrated, it seems to be a sign of pride and determination with his work, but it doesn't seem to be overriding his efforts. I am so glad.
Another thing I find interesting is that Elias's tendency is to put things together (like the pens) and to put things back (he likes to put things in a box, his toys in a basket, to file books back on the shelf.)
I am not saying that he won't create chaos, and certainly, I expect him to be a typical child with toys that are always in the middle of a game, and so, in the middle of the floor. But I am interested to see how this initial tendency might play out for him. The deal I made with him anyway was that he would have to help me keep it together if he came into the world as my son. Son, you will be the one who gets me places on time.
This is the challenge I lay upon myself in the coming week, as a tangible change I can make now that will dramatically effect my life. GOOD LUCK!
We love you Eli, you are so much fun to be with !!
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Tino likes to say that Elias always wakes up with a new idea. It is amazing to watch that clothes and pajamas that fit him yesterday, I was squeezing him into last night. When he wakes up, he calls to us, and stands up in his crib, peaking over the rim, smiling at us. He eats well and sleeps well and grows well and at 10 months no longer fits into his 18 mos pajamas. And he always wakes up with a new idea. He has always smiled sweetly at his stuffed animals, but now he picks them up and cradles them! He likes to repeat what we say, and, while I thought we would be using the sign, or the word for milk in whatever language, he now distinctly says 'bottle.'
We are so lucky, again and again. Not only is Elias the healthiest baby, he is the happiest, and whenever we go out, he is filled with smiles and songs. When it comes to mealtime, he will eat anything, but he needs to feed himself or be fed only what we are eating. He's a big boy. His favorite finger food right now is peas or edamame.
We read to him of course... all the time, and his favorite books are:
Brown Bear, its a favorite for all of us. He loves to hear it, but you can't trick him and read it twice! Since he was a few months old and we would read it, as soon as you start up again with Brown Bear, Brown Bear, he would shut the book on you! He slaps the pages to the rhythm of the book, he will imitate a 'woof woof' and a 'meow' and sometimes a 'quack quack' but not consistently yet, and he will point to what I point to, but not what I say. I feel like pretty soon I will say 'Point to the yellow duck,' or 'Point to the nose,' or 'What does the dog say?' and he will be able to answer all of these.
He has a wonderful sense of humor, and when he goes to bed at night, I'll put him in his crib and we will smash out faces against the mesh walls and give each other kisses and giggle. I don't get to put him to bed every night, we all get a chance, even Grammy sometimes. I put the puppy to bed four nights a week, and its a total treat. We do our bath ceremony, massage, reading, playing in the crib, and then we say a prayer of gratitude and love for the world.
Thanks Elias for putting me to bed right.
Monday, September 15, 2008
September in Sonoma
And when September hit my hands were empty. I took a breath and watched the ash settle. Then took a week off work and drove the family up the coast, just in time for September sunsets, peak season produce, the yearly potluck with friends and
the samba party of the year. Everything went off without a hitch, other than two missing baby hats and the ten additional hours missing from each vacation day.
But Elias and Tino are perfect vacation buddies, my friends are incredible, and I am the luckiest girl ever.
This is how it went:
Our first time touring outside of LA, we stopped for breakfast and found a true piece of Americana for the boys. At a truck stop diner, we choked down some biscuits and eggs as the folks at the next table savored the newly announced nomination of Sara Palin for Vice President. I strained my ears a bit to get a inside perspective on Palin fever, and instead, got hit with the 'N-word.' McCain and Palin seemed like purdy good people, and at least they would keep that Nigger out of office.
Tino and Elias posed for a picture and we cherished the first leg of our trip.
We continued on up PCH and made a couple more pit stops:
Daddy kept telling me to get his baby away from the edge of that cliff.
We swung through Santa Cruz just long enough to pick up with fellow Peace Corps vet, Scott, and go to th Power to the Peaceful Concert in Golden Gate Park where we met up with other movers and shakers with the African connections (including two other PCVs from Tanzania *gasp*! that were randomly sitting directly behind us, my incredible friend Margaret who opened an eye clinic in Camaroon, and, well, Barack Obama no less.)
We returned to Santa Cruz, also known as 'Paradise' to my husband, and had more good times with the great Scott Pietka and the orange parasol:
Elias loves Scott.
the samba party of the year. Everything went off without a hitch, other than two missing baby hats and the ten additional hours missing from each vacation day.
But Elias and Tino are perfect vacation buddies, my friends are incredible, and I am the luckiest girl ever.
This is how it went:
Our first time touring outside of LA, we stopped for breakfast and found a true piece of Americana for the boys. At a truck stop diner, we choked down some biscuits and eggs as the folks at the next table savored the newly announced nomination of Sara Palin for Vice President. I strained my ears a bit to get a inside perspective on Palin fever, and instead, got hit with the 'N-word.' McCain and Palin seemed like purdy good people, and at least they would keep that Nigger out of office.
Tino and Elias posed for a picture and we cherished the first leg of our trip.
We continued on up PCH and made a couple more pit stops:
Daddy kept telling me to get his baby away from the edge of that cliff.
We swung through Santa Cruz just long enough to pick up with fellow Peace Corps vet, Scott, and go to th Power to the Peaceful Concert in Golden Gate Park where we met up with other movers and shakers with the African connections (including two other PCVs from Tanzania *gasp*! that were randomly sitting directly behind us, my incredible friend Margaret who opened an eye clinic in Camaroon, and, well, Barack Obama no less.)
We returned to Santa Cruz, also known as 'Paradise' to my husband, and had more good times with the great Scott Pietka and the orange parasol:
Elias loves Scott.
Next stop was Pigeon Point Lighthouse. I think these hostels are such treasures, to be able to stay in beautiful places for a bargain. After a giggle fit with Elias, one of the hostel workers, Sparrow, convinced us to go in the private hot tub while she stayed with Elias. You could tell it meant a lot to her, and we were certainly glad to enjoy the outdoor tub at the top of a craggy cliff and listen to waves crashing. We stayed up with Sparrow for awhile and listened to her tell her own story: she was working at the hostel as away to life at a place she loved and was attempting to write a book. Her own son had died of cancer when he was twelve. It was a remarkable story and one of those reasons why its nice to stay in hostels, in close proximity to others. One of the downfalls of hostels, however, is the thin walls which meant that the next morning everyone was commenting on what a happy baby we had. They had heard his giggle fits.
Serious Elias.
Giggly Elias.
Pensive Alison.
Happy Family.
Serious Elias.
Giggly Elias.
Pensive Alison.
Happy Family.
Monday morning it was breakfast at Tartine's! Tino was scared driving downtown San Francisco. Maybe he was remembering the earthquake he recently felt, and the history of San Francisco, but I think it was that he had never been right in the middle of so many 'skyscrapers.' He took more pictures of the streets from inside the car (it would be funny to post the plethora of pics that we have of a blurry landscape outside of a window that reflects our messy dashboard but here is one to give some flavor.)
They did show the silly paper flowers from Olvera St. in LA that I hauled up to give to Amy for her birthday. Silly silly.
Anyway! Tartine's, one of the tastiest bakeries and breakfast nooks on earth, was the meeting spot for the betrothed bride and groom, Lyla and Elias. And it was also wonderful to see Lucia and Shawn, an incredible couple.
I got an incredible massage from Margaret, we cruised around some more of the city,
and Shawn gave Tino a guitar. It cost ten dollars to repair, and is the perfect evening medicine to alleviate a fussy baby, Tino sits outside in the evenings and plays.
They did show the silly paper flowers from Olvera St. in LA that I hauled up to give to Amy for her birthday. Silly silly.
Anyway! Tartine's, one of the tastiest bakeries and breakfast nooks on earth, was the meeting spot for the betrothed bride and groom, Lyla and Elias. And it was also wonderful to see Lucia and Shawn, an incredible couple.
I got an incredible massage from Margaret, we cruised around some more of the city,
and Shawn gave Tino a guitar. It cost ten dollars to repair, and is the perfect evening medicine to alleviate a fussy baby, Tino sits outside in the evenings and plays.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Oh your mamas rich, and your daddy's good lookin!
Last night the family went downtown to watch a friends band, The Sugar Mountain Mamas, play outdoors. The night was warm, the moon was purdy, and kids splashin away in the fountains all around. So many kids and babies, yikes! Two of the band members have babies, a 6 mo. old and a 1 mo. old. Elias is such a late night partier, and ladykiller, it is ridiculous. Besides making the mamas squeal with his devious dimples, he shared a kiss with a doe eyed three year old named Chloe. Oh they were so cute, he just kept looking at her and smiling big and trying to touch her, which she liked, but bashfully pointed to the waterfall. Then she looked up at him and touched his cheek, ever so softly with the back of her hand. That was it. Elias leaned in for the kiss, and it was wet and sloppy and tongue and everything!
Mama would've taken her camera out if she hadn't been orchestrating the whole thing, smooth guy lean in and all. hehe.
Well life is beautiful, and short.
Eight years with an asshole for a president have gone by quickly, 14 years since I went off to college have gone, where have they gone?
Anyway, I'm not much in a philosophy mood, and no new pictures to post. I'm in no position to whine, and really, there is nothing brand new to celebrate. But there are too many things that happen and they happen quickly and I just want to get some of them down for myself.
In fact, it would do me well to re-read some of my old messages.
I was having a very hard time about a week ago. Tonight I heard Kate Winslet describe the feeling of a broken heart to Jack Black, (you figure out the movie.) Its not the first time a broken heart has been described. If I were to describe the sensation I was feeling all week, I wonder if I would be describing the feeling of longing, or regret, or geographical separation, lost time, or what, but I tell you its something akin to ants crawling around under the skin. This is going on in conjunction with being nauseous and unable to eat.
How could I have spent to much time trying to prepare for a job that I can't get?
A whole year of preparing, trying to set up a good future, when it may have been the last time to give birth and raise an infant under the banana trees, with my buddies still around in country??
Spent the year in preparation I did. Miss a good opportunity to be in Tanzania I did.
But I am sure that I would have gone through my usual swings of insecurity and not sure if I was doing all that I possibly could to set up a good future.
Anyway, I knew that the best way for me to end up in that situation was to come back to the States and really accomplish something first. That to go back and have number two in Tanzania, in 5 years, hopefully, was the plan.
Set up the house, and be chill.
I don't see how we will be able to be in a position to take time off in 5 years, but if I tell myself now that this is the goal, it doesn't hurt so bad.
I fell in love with Tino, and made the decision not to look back.
After we made it, after we spent a few years together and proved this thing could work, thats when I want the wedding.
Yeah, thats usually why people live together and wait to have kids. That and its ridiculous financially.
But I was afraid that if I didn't commit myself fully, then there would always be a way to escape, and I saw my dreams line up on this man. There was no reason in the world, other than being illogical! that I shouldn't be with Tino.
I know me, and I doubt too much.
Tino proves himself time and time again to be a steller lover, a fuckin good daddy, a loyal, cheerful and hardworking husband, and a spiritual rock. My commitment to him has redoubled.
My mom has continued to be essential perfection, and I am totally in awe of her, and frankly embarrassed that I haven't worshiped her more thoroughly and done everything I can to be just like her.
She is fun, funny, wise, forgiving, giving, loving and beautiful.
Elias is perfect.
I am the crack head in the house, o yes I am.
When it became obvious that a teaching job was not going to happen, I began to spiral downward fast. I lashed out at everyone with bitterness and hostility. I regretted everything. I missed Bjarke, I regretted the phone call I took from the Peace Corps, when the asked me when I wanted to go. I still didn't know where, but if I had said a different when.
IF IF IF.
It is so AMAZINGLY useless.
I had waffled, wanting to study ag, or education, or health care (and then the question was, public health or nursing)
o my god have I waffled for years.
That was why I WENT to the Peace Corps (if only I had gone earlier...! bah!) and came home with, of course! the same problem.
A Global Public Health course is not far from here, but I kept thinking of any excuse why I should do something harder.
The thing is, my decisions did what I suppose I had somehow hoped- they pushed me to a wall and when I realized that this was a good option that was still available to me, you wouldn't believe that physical feeling of ants, gone.
The feeling of shukurani, of appreciation, of gratitude swept through me like the golden sun of dawn, and it felt so good.
I hadn't felt that in long enough.
That day at work I made loads.
Oh my oh my, I have a lot of practice that I need to do on living better!
Mama would've taken her camera out if she hadn't been orchestrating the whole thing, smooth guy lean in and all. hehe.
Well life is beautiful, and short.
Eight years with an asshole for a president have gone by quickly, 14 years since I went off to college have gone, where have they gone?
Anyway, I'm not much in a philosophy mood, and no new pictures to post. I'm in no position to whine, and really, there is nothing brand new to celebrate. But there are too many things that happen and they happen quickly and I just want to get some of them down for myself.
In fact, it would do me well to re-read some of my old messages.
I was having a very hard time about a week ago. Tonight I heard Kate Winslet describe the feeling of a broken heart to Jack Black, (you figure out the movie.) Its not the first time a broken heart has been described. If I were to describe the sensation I was feeling all week, I wonder if I would be describing the feeling of longing, or regret, or geographical separation, lost time, or what, but I tell you its something akin to ants crawling around under the skin. This is going on in conjunction with being nauseous and unable to eat.
How could I have spent to much time trying to prepare for a job that I can't get?
A whole year of preparing, trying to set up a good future, when it may have been the last time to give birth and raise an infant under the banana trees, with my buddies still around in country??
Spent the year in preparation I did. Miss a good opportunity to be in Tanzania I did.
But I am sure that I would have gone through my usual swings of insecurity and not sure if I was doing all that I possibly could to set up a good future.
Anyway, I knew that the best way for me to end up in that situation was to come back to the States and really accomplish something first. That to go back and have number two in Tanzania, in 5 years, hopefully, was the plan.
Set up the house, and be chill.
I don't see how we will be able to be in a position to take time off in 5 years, but if I tell myself now that this is the goal, it doesn't hurt so bad.
I fell in love with Tino, and made the decision not to look back.
After we made it, after we spent a few years together and proved this thing could work, thats when I want the wedding.
Yeah, thats usually why people live together and wait to have kids. That and its ridiculous financially.
But I was afraid that if I didn't commit myself fully, then there would always be a way to escape, and I saw my dreams line up on this man. There was no reason in the world, other than being illogical! that I shouldn't be with Tino.
I know me, and I doubt too much.
Tino proves himself time and time again to be a steller lover, a fuckin good daddy, a loyal, cheerful and hardworking husband, and a spiritual rock. My commitment to him has redoubled.
My mom has continued to be essential perfection, and I am totally in awe of her, and frankly embarrassed that I haven't worshiped her more thoroughly and done everything I can to be just like her.
She is fun, funny, wise, forgiving, giving, loving and beautiful.
Elias is perfect.
I am the crack head in the house, o yes I am.
When it became obvious that a teaching job was not going to happen, I began to spiral downward fast. I lashed out at everyone with bitterness and hostility. I regretted everything. I missed Bjarke, I regretted the phone call I took from the Peace Corps, when the asked me when I wanted to go. I still didn't know where, but if I had said a different when.
IF IF IF.
It is so AMAZINGLY useless.
I had waffled, wanting to study ag, or education, or health care (and then the question was, public health or nursing)
o my god have I waffled for years.
That was why I WENT to the Peace Corps (if only I had gone earlier...! bah!) and came home with, of course! the same problem.
A Global Public Health course is not far from here, but I kept thinking of any excuse why I should do something harder.
The thing is, my decisions did what I suppose I had somehow hoped- they pushed me to a wall and when I realized that this was a good option that was still available to me, you wouldn't believe that physical feeling of ants, gone.
The feeling of shukurani, of appreciation, of gratitude swept through me like the golden sun of dawn, and it felt so good.
I hadn't felt that in long enough.
That day at work I made loads.
Oh my oh my, I have a lot of practice that I need to do on living better!
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Feed me Seymour!
I guess it started with ice cream at my dear friend's 80th birthday, when Elias was three mos. old. Followed up by a taste of yogurt, some watermelon, when mama wasn't looking.
But finally, mama had to give up on her ideas that keeping this eating machine from food until 6 months was the best way. He was undeniably ready to eat. Chomping down on those Yoda gums whenever we chomped down food, pizza, whatever!
I thought that sweet potatoe would be the best start, but Grammy bought oatmeal cereal, and, the same night that we had both decided would be his first spoon-fed dinner, he wanted out pizza so badly, that there was no time for boiling and mashing a sweet potatoe. Elias ate with chubby cheeked gusto and his daddy was so proud. Each bite has been preserved on video, so we will have a public screening of the big event soon.
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