And on this Valentines: Actions louder than words

To give pleasure to a single heart by a single act is better than a thousand heads bowing in prayer.

Mohandas Gandhi

nothing particular

WELL. of all the things I could share today...I think I will indulge in a stream of nothing important.  A wildly active stream of information -gurgling, churning, spilling over rocks.  Yet, still I think I can manage to say only non-earth shattering things.  It will be difficult perhaps.  My life is a rare fount of headline news stories.  (ummm.  humoring myself)

Elliot and I dressed for Christmas service.  Her Christmas dress is completed by boots.

Izaak's new Sony camcorder/camera/toy came in the mail today.  He's not here so I am playing with it. He got it for free.  It is a deep violet color to match the white 32g iPod he got for free last Spring.  The colors don't match.  It is the free part that matches.  Did you notice that?  People just give him expensive items when he does lame stuff like fill out surveys at expos.

When you send a 3 year old in to put on her shoes SOMETIMES they put socks all the way up and put on broken ballet shoes.  Next time I will be more clear about the knicker/ballet combo.

I learned this week that you can't effectively shush 3 year olds.  They just talk louder over the shhh sound to make doubly sure that you heard them.  I learned that lesson when Elliot pointed at a black man and said innocently enough that that wasn't her favorite color for skin.  Too dark, she thought.  It was a grocery store, he was standing about 1/2 aisle down from us.  It is the same Elliot who is very clear about not liking short hair, and blond hair. She alternates between liking Indians and not (as per the Little House books).  And, she cried once when she found out that she was an American (she just wanted to be a girl, as it turned out)

Elliot is modeling a jacket her dad wore as a little boy

Sure, it is okay to not like blonds and prefer lush long hair.  BUT how do you draw a line on what is okay without drawing a line between an imaginary us/them.  The man was black, obviously.  I don't want to teach her to ignore that fact because that is disrespectful to who he is. 

So, I faced the teachable moment where I had the chance to explain that some people are black and some have short hair and these are just adjectives but that's not who we are but that is who he is because of heritage and culture and short hair is just fashion and its okay to not like some one's fashion but you should acknowledge how people are born without judgement because while that defines us it doesn't limit or separate us (but then neither does some one's fashion choices) but it is not a big deal but why am I making this moment a big deal? It's like...In the 1 second I had to say something deep even the voice in my head was confused about what the lesson should be or why the lesson should be.  I just shrugged my shoulders and said that I thought it was a nice shade for skin but that I agreed with her about the orangyblond hair.
Her awareness of otherness is outgrowing her awareness of other's feelings. where angels fear to tread 

Henry is already 4 months old and smells inexplicably of babyness.  You know that smell?  How do they manage to smell like that?

To the North Pole and back, in 4 hours.

Grandma Deb-Deb just left Boise after a whirlwind of holiday fun!  We went on the North Pole Express train ride.  Elliot has spent the last month looking forward to this trip.  She was not disappointed. 
HOWEVER.  I would like to take a minute of your time to complain about fake bearded Santas. (if anyone else wants to pipe in on this one, I'd love to hear it) Even a three year old is not fooled by this farce.  It's going to kill the Christmas magic before she is four.  The first f-b-s had to adjust his beard to drink water.  Elliot saw and noted.  The second f-b-s had a beard such that you could not see his mouth very well.  Elliot thought that Santa's beard looked like a mask.  Thank goodness that the mall Santa is a real bearded one.   Elliot is sure that he is legit.

Here we are, loading onto the train...getting cozy.  Do you like Izaak's Christmas moustache?  Personally, I can't wait until the 26th when it gets shaved.  But then that is just me.

And here are my beautiful babies with Mr and Mrs Claus.  Do you think that Santa's beard looks like a mask?  Can you tell that Elliot is not buying it?  Nope, she is a trifle weirded out that she can't see his mouth when he is talking to her.  I am not even sure if Henry is impressed, or maybe he is.  Can't tell.

And here we all are at the North Pole.  The North Pole is just over an hour from Boise by train.  Apparently.  And, yes.  I agree. The blow up snowmen look a bit cheesy.  But you know what?  Elliot loved it.  She ate up that North Pole, devouring it for the fun thing that it was.  She hasn't stopped mentioning that she got to really see Santa's house and workshop.   Somethings are magical.

PreChristmas 2010: the run down

Gingerbread Houses, 1st Annual event.

Izaak makes Elliot's house.  She takes over to start the decorating.  Izaak starts on the next house. 

 And JJ is diligently working on her own masterpiece.  And what is up with the random banana in these photos? 

Elliot dismantles house and takes a bite out of each candy and cookie. 

Big mess.  Lots of fun. 

Another PreChristmas event was when JJ and I went thrift storing...searching for bad Christmas sweaters. I know it's the new cliche.  But it is so terribly funny. I don't want to give too much away...but let me say this much.  Izaak has been growing a moustache.  There are some bad sweaters ready and waiting. 


Here is the pre show.

when suddenly it dawned on the mother, this would not be a good year to send Christmas cards.

Well, I am sorry to say that on the 20th of December I am giving up and acknowledging that this is not a good year for Christmas cards, photo cards, letters or anything of the sort. 

My reasons number as many as the stars...shall I count them? 

1. Law school applications/paperwork/form chaos is just cleaned up and both of our hands have prema-cramp. 
2. Henry themed birth announcements are still eeking thier way out of our mailbox at a snail's pace. (Elliot's were much easier to send because there was no 3 year old trying to help me:) 
3. We're a wee bit tired after this last semester
4. The Christmas spirit is trying hard to raly through the bah-humbug crappy stuff that keeps happening...a tenant skipped out mid-lease on Dec 1st, It was brought to my attention (Kristen) that the bit of discomfort I have been having may require surgery (test results pending).  If the rule of three's applies we don't want to know what else could happen. 
5. Has anyone tried to snap a picture of small children that was worthy of a photocard?  Sit still?  Henry can't at all, Elliot won't even bother.  The lurching, the falling, the sheer boredom after 1 minute. 

I thought about just sending out new year's cards, so that I could have a few more weeks.  But you know what?  I think we're just going to call it good for this year and scrub the whole thing.

Dear Santa...please disregard the letter from my daughter.

Elliot made her list for Santa.  I am not even sure if we should sent it to the jolly ol'man.  For starters, she does not wear a size 5 shoe.  And secondly, what would we do with a pig?  I mean, seriously a pig?

Grandpa Airplane and 6 month old Elliot.  3 years ago this week.  (btw, 3 month old Henry has those same overalls well filled out already)

 And, in this season of giving and receiving...while Elliot works diligently on her handmade gifts for others...she also makes a few simple requests.  Requests that we beg Santa to disregard.  Though at the same time we want it fully acknowledged how sweet her list is.   Sweet, right?

Elliot's 1st snow in Fairfield, December 2007

And I bring to you, as verbetem as possible...the letter.

Mama:  Elliot, what do you want Santa to bring you for Christmas? 
Elliot: I want Santa to bring me a very big size 10 hat or bonnet, size 5 boots, and my very own computer and a pig in a long box.  But not a cooked pig.
Mama: [dead silence, cause what do you say to that?]



Santa and Elliot, December 2007...happy little thing.



Sleeping babies who suck (thumbs & pacifiers, mostly)

Not to make any one jealous but...I would just like to take this moment to brag comment. I am a sucker for watching sleeping babies.

Izaak and I sleep VERY WELL.  We rarely have gotten less then 8 hours. AND if we do get less then than  8 hours, it almost NEVER has to do with a certain 3 year old and 3 month old. It's us, not them.

I love pictures of zombie-fashion models-cousins holding my children

 Can you tell from this picture that I have a thumb sucker and a pacifier baby?  I think that it is a nature thing that little ones like to suck (clearly nature, as a matter of survival).  But how is it that Elliot was born with a thumb in her mouth, and Henry scoffs at his thumb in favor of a pacifier.  He is even brand specific.  MAM.  Can't find one? Go ahead and try to sneak a Soothie or NUK into his wide open mouth.  No chance that will satisfy.  MAM's the word around her.

I still remember Henry's 1st two nights with us.  He slept fitfully, and only if held upright.  So I slept, sitting up on the couch.  For two nights, I had bad sleep.  At three nights old, he tucked in nicely to me and slept away. Content to cuddle until morning. 
 

I also love pictures of Thing 2 -Uncles partying Halloween style with Skeleton-Henrys

What?  Do some of you envy us?  Do some wonder why?  Nurture, nature?  I don't know.  BUT it seems that lately there has been an onslaught of questions from people - Is Henry sleeping through the night yet?  Are you guys catching up on sleep yet?  Two little kids, you must never sleep.
 

Isn't that a pretty lady?  She is a very lovely person indeed.

 Sleep sleep sleep.  Why do some people get so preoccupied with babies and sleep?

I thought I had posted these pictures already.  But I was looking back and realized that I hadn't
well, here you go... (my apologizes if I did already post these.  Please bear with me again.)

The Pumpkin Festival-Corn Maze-thingy

Elliot picked out her pumpkin

 And posed with it

A few times. 

We jumped on a huge blow up pillow

Elliot, ever the Pioneer, forged her own way through a maze - with little regard for rules and pathways.

A hayride  

Thoughts and leaves falling falling

Wow have I really not written anything here in 3 weeks?  My faithful few are perhaps a bit upset.  (I am speaking for you, since y'all keep so quiet on the comments).  Lots of fall pictures are awaiting their chance to dismount off the camera and make a new home on the computer...perhaps another day.  I do have some pictures to share.  Have you seen these?

Elliot is not feeling well today.  She told her dad that it was all because she ate a dog.  Oh boy.

We have been better this fall about not turning the heat on.  Most years I turn it on high in October and leave it that way until March.  Power bill can suck.  And that is not the soundest environmental plan.  So this year I am trying to acclimate to the weather as it changes. That seems the more natural approach. Proud to say that we have only turned the heat on on a few occasions so far.  It is amazing how much you don't need to heat a house when you are appropriately dressed for the season.  My guess is that the same is true for the summer and a/c.  But I didn't have benefit of central air this summer...

I love baby stretches.  When a baby puts his two fists behind his head and arches his back and then puts puckering mushed face and then wiggles just a bit.  That is perhaps my favorite thing to watch - aside from sleeping children. 

Prince William got engaged.  That's good.  Every webpage I went on today was saturated with the breaking news coverage.  This to shall pass, I hope.

I was also going to share a quick story about Elliot and her new duplo guns and another about the letter I am helping her compose to Santa.  But I will save those for another evening. 

This Independence Day & Langston Hughes

from Democracy & Freedom's Plow

Democracy will not come
Today, this year
     Nor ever
Through compromise and fear...

I tire so of hearing people say,
Let things take their course.
Tomorrow is another day.
I do not need my freedom when I'm dead.
I cannot live on tomorrow's bread...
_________

American is a dream.
The poet says it was promises.
The people say it is promises - that will come true.
The people do not always say things out loud,
Nor write them down on paper....
The people do not always understand each other.
But there is, somewhere these,
Always the trying to understand,
And the trying to say,
"You are a man. Together we are building our land."

America!
Land created in common,
Dream nourished in common,
Keep your hand on the plow! Hold on!

     ALL MEN ARE CREATED EQUAL.

     NO MAN IS GOOD ENOUGH TO
     GOVERN ANOTHER MAN WITHOUT
     THAT OTHER'S CONSENT.

     BETTER DIE FREE, THAN LIVE SLAVES.

Who said those things?  Americans!
Who owns those words? Americans!
Who is America? You, Me!
We are America!
To the enemy who would conquer us from without,
We say, NO!
To the enemy who would divide us from within,
We say, NO!...

To all the enemies of our great words:
We say, NO!