Saturday, February 26, 2011

love and gratitude

ever had one of those weeks when you're not sure if you're coming or going?

we've had one a bit like that.

our car was broken into and vandalized {along with 10 or 12 others in the same parking lot}...we ended up needing a new steering column {$300+ later}...*sigh*.  i can never get my head around why people do such things. we were quite fortunate in that we don't keep anything of value in the car....some other folk lost GPS units and CD's and tools and whatnot.

temperaments are clashing. i think the winter has outstayed it's welcome and we'd all be much happier if we could get out and play's been a challenge to say the least but we're navigating our way with  lots of talking and venting and bouncing on trampolines.

but, in the way of balancing and harmony...

there have been homemade pancakes..

{teeny pancakes made especially for our house-brownie...left on the doorstep of the faery-house}

and MadLibs and MathBlasters and researching hauntings and the price of a pony...;)

and {of course} paint and poetry and some music tossed in for ambience

and decluttering and rearranging and sparklification {to borrow a phrase from Stephanie}....getting a head-start on spring cleaning, y'know?

a gift of art for me...{swoon}'s currently perched on my newly-rearranged art-table so i can catch a glimpse of it from almost every angle of our main living space...


a gift of inspiration for Savannah....{same beautiful culprit...we are so, SO blessed to have him in our life}

{and a little card reminding her that she holds the key to all of her heart's dreams}

and then....just when we thought we were so full of joy and gratitude we might explode...another..YES, another parcel arrived on Friday...

Savannah and Cowgirl are regular mail-art are Lis and I...but this...WOW...we were so blown away by this!! You can read about the magic of these fairy bundles here -- they are all safely resting in our own 'power places'....little sacred nooks we've all carved out for ourselves.  also included were traditional red envelopes celebrating Chinese New Year {Cowgirl's birthplace}...complete with organic lollipops which were slurped up in enthusiastic fashion. Thank you, thank you, thank YOU...Lis and Cowgirl...

so yeah....we're feeling mighty loved.

and thankful...did i mention that?

oh. we are indeed.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

the week

it's been an odd week....a lot of 'heaviness' in the air. there've been more than the usual number of spats and aggravations in our little abode.  i think cabin-fever has reached it's peak and we're all quite ready for spring.

i woke up this morning thinking i wanted to open the windows. which i did, ever so briefly...but, oh - what a difference! it gives one hope. :)

most mornings of late i'm woken by the tip-tapping of doggie feet around the bedroom -- our ancient boy Tyler can't quite hold his bladder like he did in his younger days and nature's call is coming ever earlier. apparently i wasn't quick enough out of bed today and i followed him to Sebastian's room where i caught him lifting his leg against the table (Tyler, that is).  i'm not sure he even realized what he was doing.  thus it is to be an old dog.

i'm reading Lord of the Rings -- first time, although i've had the book for years. (GASP! i know, right? where have i been?). i haven't got far - i'm exhausted by bedtime these days -- but i've found the foreword to be of great interest and have enjoyed a quiet giggle at the way Mr.Tolkein views his critics. this also stood out {on the topic of suggested motive and meaning of his story} ...

     "The prime motive was the desire of the tale-teller to try his hand at a really long story that would hold the attention of readers, amuse them, delight them, and at times maybe excite them or deeply move them.  As a guide I had only my own feelings for what is appealing or moving, and for many the guide was inevitably at fault."

this actually brought tears to my eyes....because i think it's a lovely way to look at life in general; that if we act from a desire to amuse and delight, to share and encourage then we are approaching our lives with a beautiful purpose. inevitably, someone is gonna dump all over it, but that needn't be our concern. i think that's the part i struggle with most....the surrendering of perspective.


and there was art commissioned for the downstairs-bathroom wall. i'm on a mission of un-beige -- i don't fancy painting the walls from their delightful shade of industrial beige (far too much upheaval involved there)...i much prefer the splashes of colour a smattering of fabulous art can provide.

from the Creature Feature Savannah

B was away on biz-ness on Friday and Saturday so there were bonus trips to Nanna and Grandad's and the baking of brownies and procurement of ice-cream for a movie night.  we watched Skellig the Owl Man....absolutely wonderful.

and in amongst all that....we just carry on as we are.

Monday, February 7, 2011


There are three stages to Truth

1. Ridicule

2. Violent Opposition

3. Acceptance

{...we'll wait 'til you catch up}

...and for those of you already here...for your love and support -- both here and privately, through email....

rock on, sweet friends...

Sunday, February 6, 2011


i knew the moment he was conceived and a short while later, he told me his name.

i asked him not to come until he was ready -- the trauma of his sister's early arrival still hanging over my heart -- and he ventured forth on exactly his due date.

i wrote him a letter a few days after he was born, as i'd done for his sister before him, and in it i named him my 'child of peace'.

as an infant, where his sister had screamed bloody murder for the first five months and torn my soul into tatters, he smiled a lot and loved to be cuddled.

he was exactly what i needed to heal my heart; to show me that perhaps i wasn't such a failure after all.

when he turned a year, he didn't delight in the party we gave him the way most yearlings do -- basking in the adoration of his family and friends who all waited expectantly for that Kodak moment of cake-smearing and a first taste of ice-cream.

instead he screamed until i swooped him away to a quiet place -- just he and i and the silence.

after that, any attempt at going out was near impossible.  at the grocery store he'd scream if anyone looked at him...when he got bigger and was walking, he'd lie down in the aisle and cry until i picked him up and took him out.

eventually, we rearranged things so he wouldn't have to go out in public.

naturally, everyone thought there was something *wrong* with him.

  "he must be autistic, you should have him tested"

i ignored them, but secretly researched autism in the dark of the night when everyone slept. in the depths of my mama's heart - that place where you really Know -  i knew there was nothing wrong with this magical boy who loved so fiercely and whose eyes crackled with sparks of joy every time he smiled.

when he was 19 months old and not talking i did have him assessed -- only to be sure there was no physical reason for him not doing the usual babbling and chattering.  all that was fine, but the speech pathologist insisted he needed 'intervention' and put him on a waiting list.  they finally called when he was three but we had never needed it.  she told me how to direct his play and encourage him to make noises with his trains and animals. i knew that would never fly, he was always very intense -- yes, he lined them up in fine autist fashion -- obsessing over making sure they were just-so -- there was no way he'd allow me to join in uninvited and i certainly couldn't be the one driving the bus! so i nodded and smiled and thanked her...and took my perfect child home. we never had trouble communicating...if he wanted a sandwich, he'd bring us a loaf of bread and the jar of peanut butter.  we learned how to communicate without speech.

from about 10 months of age onwards, his sleep patterns were governed by the phases of the moon. he is restless and wakeful prior to both the New and the's easier now because he's old enough to entertain himself while one of us dozes -- he falls asleep when he's ready.  trying to regiment that has never been successful -- forcing an early 'bedtime' means he's awake at 3am and raring to go.  eventually, he taught us to honour his cycle.

he's 6 now. he's not a typical 6 year old boy and going places and doing certain things still involves a degree of challenge. he doesn't always transition well and immerses himself deeply and intensely in activities -- he sucks the marrow dry before he moves onto the next thing -- apparently 6 year old boys aren't supposed to to that -- so typical 'groups' and activities don't fit our style. we can't take part in structured activities -- but really, who's to say that's the only way, anyway? he opened the door to unschooling -- and we gladly walked through it.

i still find myself at odds with Common Belief -- that he should have had speech therapy; that he should be forced to do this, that and the other; that he should be expected to behave in a certain way in certain situations. and in the moments that i wonder if maybe everyone else is right and i'm the one who's wrong -- for  stubbornly defending this child's right to be his own person -- i remember everything he's taught me; i remember how he has challenged everything i  thought i knew about parenting and the world; how i've had to stretch further and harder to meet his needs -- all of which he has the Divine right to have taken care the simple truth that he Is. and when i remember these things i remember that he's perfect.

every child is born Perfect

it is not our job as parents and adults to mold these children into our own ideal of what they should be. if you look around -- even in the so-called Positive Parenting movement, the subtle signs of manipulation are there. well-meaning, i've no doubt -- but designed to funnel development along a prescribed route. most of us may have unknowingly done that -- i was doing it with Savannah until her brother showed me that it could be different.

that it could be so much different. and that we'd be all the better for his gifts.

i have a hard time, still, sharing my boy-child -- he defies definition...describing a day with him would be beyond difficult. but i've realized recently, that my decision not to share him is based in fear. i feel tremendously protective of him...and fiercely defend him and his right to be himself....and i'm afraid -- afraid that he will be judged, that he will be seen as somehow Less....simply because he drums his own rhythm. 

and sometimes i'm afraid that i've got it all wrong and that i've failed him in my own stubbornness and blind love.

and so, again, it comes down to a matter of faith. and trust. and  the ferocious love i have for my boy -- and a belief that, as he has always done, he will show me the way and somehow, some way, i will simply Know.

and this....i first saw via the lovely Stephanie...and it made me cry -- sweet happy tears -- and now you know why...

Thursday, February 3, 2011


there is painting and stories by candlelight....