Male Extinction

It was 13 degrees outside when we got up this morning. We all bundled up in winter gear before we headed out into the frosty day. All of us except the boy. I pointed at his jacket. He just nodded his head no and started out the door. I told him to at least put on a hoodie. At the blast of cold air he turned around and grabbed his hat too. I let him go. This is one of my "pick your battles" issues. If he's cold enough he'll wear a jacket. Right?

On the way to school we talked about how this was an unusually cold December and I mentioned off hand that he wouldn't be as cold if he had worn a jacket. He told me jackets are embarrassing. I started to tell him how ridiculous that sounded but at this point we were at the school and I watched children stumble out of cars. All of the girls were bundled in down jackets, scarves, gloves, hats, and Uggs up to their knees. The boys on the other hand were getting out in jeans and a hoodie at most. I saw one kid in shorts and a T-shirt. May I remind you that it's 13 degrees outside.

That's when I thought that maybe this should be a battle more moms pick. Because apparently the male version of our species would all die off before they hit puberty if it weren't for nagging mothers.

They'd all be standing in a circle in 13 degree weather in shorts and T-shirts. "What? I'm not cold. You cold?" "No, I'm less cold than you. I could stand out here naked at 13 below." "Yea. That's my teeth chattering. What? I'm not cold." Then they'd all freeze to death in one big act of machismo.

Deep down men will always be wild animals. And at this age they are completely illogical wild animals just feeding off of a flood of testosterone. So they'll freeze because not freezing makes them embarrassingly wimpy.

Other animals know to come in out of the cold. Our cat stays outside for no longer than five minutes at time. Then again she's female. Maybe all of the male cats are sitting in a circle somewhere saying, "What? I'm not cold. You cold?".

Funny Wish List

With the Christmas season here, I thought it would be a good time to ask the kids what they'd like for Christmas this year. I knew exactly what they were going to say. Chris wants a bike, Analiese wants an American Girl doll (not happening), Sicily wants her own Legos (because Chris doesn't want girl germs on his). And of course, a long list of other things they've seen at friend's houses and on TV.

I'm their mom. I know these things.

Only that's not what they said.

Instead Analiese led with, "I'd like a really big bag of Cheetos!". And then Chris said, "I don't like Cheetos, but I'll take a Butterfinger and maybe one of those cool Christmas bobble head things." Of course Sicily had to be heard, "I want...fruit snacks, the kind we don't get..and....a Hershey bar."

Really? That's it.

Pause.

Then Analiese said, "Yea. Oh, and an orange flashlight!"

I'm not sure what to do with this. On one hand, I could go with it and make this the least expensive Christmas ever. On the other hand, I feel like maybe our children are a little deprived of treats. Then again, apparently when junk food is a rarity it really is a treat. That's not such a bad thing.

One thing I'm sure of, the stockings will be stuffed with Cheetos and fruit snacks and Butterfingers. That's a Christmas wish list that's budget approved.

Thanks. Thanks. Thanks.

Our Thanksgiving was lovely, full of so much to be thankful for...

...like a rough and tumble boy who is soft and gentle with a new baby

...like loving eyes for a new cousin to share secrets with

...like a girl who reminds me that sometimes the middle of chaos is the best place to stop and meditate

...like good food prepared by good family. Family so welcoming and awesome that we didn't want to leave.

...like Black Friday and Cyber Monday shopping. And a big girl who sits cross-legged with a laptop looking far too big for a mama's heart.

...did I mention a boy who is oh, so good with this baby. A boy who is almost as tall as me, who can wrap his whole hand around her little one. A boy who, though he fronts tough, has a serious soft spot for his new little cousin.

Yes, it was a lovely Thanksgiving indeed.

Thanks

I am thankful for bright red maple leaves.
For stars that make shapes and full moons.

I am thankful for a funky little cottage to hold us all.
For soft blankets and warm fires.

I am thankful for tender cheek kisses and big squish hugs.
For giggles and laughs and cute little pouts.

I am thankful for good food that comes from hard worked soil.
For steaming plates that gather us together at days end.

I am thankful for grace.
For being reminded that I am weak, but He is strong.

I am thankful for new baby toes.
For family who loves us even though they really know us.

I am thankful for a man, a boy, and two little girls.
For people who I am so in love with that sometimes I cry.

I am thankful for so much more.
For life is truly wonderful, though sometimes I forget.

I am thankful to have a moment to sit down and remember.
For I am thankful, so very thankful.

Parties And Programs To Be Thankul For

I sat in the school auditorium for two and a half hours on Friday to watch three programs. Then I made my way around the school to three parties. All full of turkey talk, Pilgrims, and Native Americans. Cupcakes, apple cider, and leaves of thanks. All fun, all important. All part of getting ready for the wonderful holiday we call Thanksgiving.


Sweet faces still holding baby fat sang about Columbus and his three ships. Their eyes wandered and they shuffled their feet. Then the audience stood clapping. They all looked up with big smiles and pride in their eyes. And I just wanted to scoop them all up into a hug, especially that little freckle-faced blond in the middle.



Fourth grade boys are far too cool for school programs. If you watch closely you can see that they are all mouthing nonsense to look like they're participating, leaving the true performing to the girls. Silly boys. But the video is cute anyways, especially the girl who got the role of the turkey.



Finally, I dedicate this video to my sisters and mom. Three people I am very thankful for. And they are the three people who know why listening to my daughter repeatedly rehearse Colors of the Wind for the last two weeks is really funny. You see, my little sister was in kindergarten when the movie Pocahontas first came out and like every other five year old at the time she had her fair share of Pocahontas related items in her bedroom. One of those things was an alarm clock that sang Colors of the Wind. The problem is my little sister can sleep through a tornado, so we all heard that song over and over again every single school morning for about a year. Now when I hear it I start to twitch a little. But it really is a beautiful song especially when performed by my beautiful daughter who is still singing it over and over again long past her actual performance. Thus is life. This is horribly filmed and I apologize but you see why I had to show it to you despite that fact. So for my family, and all of you, I present Colors of the Wind.

My Wildflower

( p.s. None of us are really adults, you know.
We are all just pretending we like the order and strain
the rest of the world deems so important.)

-sara sophia, tout-est-des-roses

I like coloring books. I like to draw pretty pictures and paint them in with watercolors. I keep my eyes open for fairies because who's to say they aren't real and I have gnomes in my garden beds. I like witty British comedies and Rockwell makes me smile. This is me. This is me as adult.

My daughter likes coloring books. She likes to draw pretty pictures and paint them in with watercolors. She might just be a fairy. She likes Tom and Jerry and Degas makes her want to dance. This is my daughter. This is her as child.

We share a similar spirit. But where I am strong, she seems fragile to me. And where she is free, I feel restrained.

She is frustrated by life's boxes. She doesn't fit into the system that she's been thrown into. They see her scattered and disorganized and behind. She feels their glares heavy. I cry for this little one of mine. My fairy child with freckled face and hidden wings that give her flight. I want to build her a world of fancy so that she can soar. Right now she feels stapled to the ground. I fear her spirit will die held down so low.

My mind is filled with thoughts and ideas of how to free her. Should I remove her from the school that is stifling her? Or should I let her tough it out? Should I protect the fragility of her young spirit? Or am I supposed to leave her to learn how to thrive in this world? And what if I choose wrong and that beautiful, creative soul is lost in the testing? Why is this so hard?

I like wildflowers. They are strong, beautiful, and independent of restraint. I want her to be a wildflower.

Maybe the answer is in helping each other. I will help her to be strong. And she will help me to break free.

And our world of fancy can exist within these four walls if only when we look into each other's eyes.

Chasing Leaves

my heart smiles when I watch them

as their minds dance across the page

carefree and concentrated

chasing leaves

gold and maple red

orange and withered brown

big piles of decay

made beautiful and light

by little hands and jumping feet

'til they fall to the earth in contentment

and the colors twirl about their heads

in airy halos of imagination