A Few of My Favorite Things and The Winner Is...

A selection of photos from the last few days.

We had what felt like the best holiday in memory. Everything was wonderful and magical and felt truly beautiful.

The best part is knowing that the feeling is still here, and was here before the holiday. The best part is knowing that the magical, beautiful, wonderfulness is just our little family.

I hope you all had a fantastic holiday too.

And the Winner of this giveaway was "J". Picked by my random number generator, Jeff.

"Hey, Jeff, pick a number between 1 and 34"
"28, why?"
"You just picked the book giveaway winner, thanks"

J, please email me with your address so that I can ship your book out to you... and a new copy for myself ;-) because Neeka tore mine apart last year.
For those of you who didn't win, don't fret! I'll be doing another giveaway in mid January.
Thank you so much for sharing your favorite books. I too am a bibliophile and know how hard (or impossible) it can be to pick a favorite. Favorite in what category is more like it ;-)

xoxo

Recommitment

All negativity is caused by an accumulation of psychological time and denial of the present. Unease, anxiety, tension, stress, worry -- all forms of fear -- are caused by too much future and not enough presence. guilt, regret, resentment, grievances, sadness, bitterness and all forms of nonforgiveness are caused by too much past and not enough presence. Most people find it difficult to believe that a state of consciousness totally free of all negativity is possible. And yet this is the liberated state to which all spiritual teachings point. It is the promise of salvation, not an illusory future but right here and now.
- Eckhart Tolle, The Power of Now

If you think you are enlightened, try spending a week with your parents.
-Eckhart Tolle

You may have noticed this already, but I'm not the Buddha, or even the Dali Lama. Hell, I'm not even profoundly along my spiritual path. I'm very simply walking it with all the presence that I can in each moment.

Two steps forward, one step back, a leap ahead, a fall down a cliff...
It's a treacherous and tricky road. Millions of books have been written on the subject.
I have been aware, all along, that at some point during our two month visit with my mother I began to lose what was a pretty strong grip on presence. My mind began to chatter, old wounds began to sting, brand new ones were being dealt with. I failed in my belief that because I had accepted and understood past injustices that I would immediately accept and understand new ones... that my ego mind had been resolved enough to not regain power and ability to dig into past pain. It lies also in believing that forgiveness is for anyone but myself. It is not a gift to another, it is a right to myself.

There are so many things that I understand on the rational, cognitive and even spiritual level.
Making them an immovable agreement is another matter. Profound spiritual enlightenment does not simply happen to most of us. Most of us have to work on it and will continue to work on it until the day we die and then pick it up again in the next life. Though I would like to hope for better outcome than that, I still accept that learning, grieving, healing, are signposts along the path. In our pain exists our lessons. Sometimes, however, these lessons seem more like uncrackable koans than obvious points. There are no Cliff's notes and even renowned gurus fail sometimes.

Today I am both giving myself space to be human, and also reassessing the truth of my commitment to spiritual growth. Sometimes making excuses is too easy.
Today I recommit myself to my values, my family and myself.

Breaking Through Some of the Pain

You're such and inspiration
for the ways that I would
never ever choose to be.
~ A Perfect Circle

When we don't share the secret ache in our hearts--the normal bewilderment of being human--it turns into something else. Our pain and fear and longing in the absence of company, become alienation and envy and competition.
If you're interested in opening the door to the heavens, start with the door to your own secret self. See what happens when you offer to another a glimpse of who you really are.
~Elizabeth Lesser, Broken Open

Sometimes I flash on the past. Images of a life I've tried to leave behind.
My mother, drunk again, and bleeding on in the bathroom. People sleeping on the sofas, dusty afternoon sun streaming in the trailer windows. Me home from school again. My mother in bed with her boyfriend.
Flash forward: another boyfriend, drunk, passed out on the toilet again.
Flash back: the suspicious school nurse pays a visit to our trailer to see why I 'm home from school again. My mother still in bed, doesn't get up for her. People still asleep on the sofas, mess. She wants to take my temperature, my mother calls me to her room where she's lying with a man. I tell her and she puts her cigarette up to the tip of the thermometer. Go back now she tells me. The nurse reads the temperature and eyeballs me, asks point-blank, Did you do something to this? No, I say, terrified. I just talked to my mom I tell her. She scowls and says she must not have shaken it well enough. We'll try again, she tells me, you stay here this time. No temperature and she leaves. Just like that, as if her only purpose was to confirm her own suspicions.

I didn't know about CPS then. I wonder now though, why... Why she didn't call them... What she could have thought, as my mind grabs a survey of the scene again...

My children giggle at a game they're playing, pull me from my thoughts, and I momentarily picture them in that scene.
I shudder, an involuntary physical reaction to the thoughts of my children experiencing any of my childhood.
I shake my head, but the feeling is in my throat. I look around consciously taking note that I am not there. They are not there. I smile at them; they think I'm sharing in their game. They don't know it's a forced wall between my pain and their world.

Miso soup with broccoli on the stove, a scattering of fruit on a plate, leftover from their snack, abandoned for their play - they know there is always more food. They know apples keep and the thick, rich soup smell has filled the house.

Flash again, 10 years old, I'm grounded for calling my grandparents to tell them we're hungry. There's no food, Mom's in bed again. Lying, I'm told, is why I'm grounded. I'm 10. I'm hungry. I don't understand, but I'm angry. A new feeling. Angry. Too young to analyze, to understand anything, but angry. I know in the pit of me that something is not right - wrong.

I check myself, the life I live, the life I give to my kids. Everything is good. Picturesque even. They know no real pain, have no real fears. So happy, I can see it. But I feel too. My memories feel black and alive - threatening- as if they could jump out and grab my family. I harden, feeling like the wall between my family and such pain. I swallow it deeper and it rests again, like a rock in the pit of my stomach, and I smile at the sun on the blue glass jars, throwing patterns of light on the bright clean house.
I see my family, I smile more broadly. They have no idea of where I've been. If they caught the tip they would never guess at the glacier that lies beneath my smile - no means to conceive of the ugly scarring and twisted mess inside of a woman who creates love and beauty in their lives... seemingly with her whole being. Never imagining what I could create for them if I had use of my whole being rather than the bits that I have protected... reserved for them... my whole life. The parts of me that are pure and unmolested - only because of the fight I put up for them. The moments of my life where I fought for them as if they were life itself, and I know now that they were.

I love those parts and I know that I see the black scarred parts only because my light is growing, searching outside it's protection, and reflecting back to me from what I create in the world. And I know that I am nothing like her and that I survived. I know that even as a lone child warrior, in a world where even family turns a blind eye, I am stronger.

Someday the protection that I provide will come with a sense of peace and rest rather than this exhausted, lone vigilance.

Someday I will truly believe that the beauty that surrounds me was brought forth from the beauty in me, and that it is safe. Someday I will no longer be afraid to create more beauty. I will no longer live in fear of drawing her attention to me... of this beauty being taken away by her ugly anger and jealousy. Someday I will see my monster for the sad, lonely old woman that she actually is.

As My Life is Done...In Watermelon Sugar

In the spirit of giving... A GIVEAWAY!

Leave me a comment sharing the title of your favorite book.
On Christmas day I'll draw a name from my hat and send a copy of my
all time favorite book, In Watermelon Sugar, to the winner.

This is the book I quoted in this post.

So, what's your favorite book??

Kiddos, Colic and Christmas

I want to thank everyone for their support, encouragement and suggestions. We're implementing everything :-)
Simone seems to be feeling a little better today. There hasn't been any crying and we're really hoping that we might make it through the night without any.

I haven't had any dairy or dairy derivatives, any gluten, onions, peanuts, cabbage family veggies, peppers, high pectin fruits, spices or soy in over a week. We've furthered the elimination now so that I am pretty much eating only fish, chicken, squash, rice, pear, celery, carrots and potatoes. These things are the recommended "safe foods" for colic elimination diets. Yum ;-}

Tonight we'll be raising the head of the bed so that we will be sleeping at about a 40 degree angle. Jeff and I have been taking turns with the night-time holding. Jeff sleeps propped up with Simone tummy down on his chest. I prefer to sleep with her side lying in my arms. It's tough, but we're glad when she sleeps and we don't have to be on the sofa or rocking chair for it to happen. I drink a tea of fennel seed, catnip and peppermint every day to help with her digestion, we make sure she's burped thoroughly and is kept in a semi-upright position for at least 30 minutes after nursing. We carry and hold her so that there's no pressure on her belly, and we've ordered infant probiotics and Gripe Water. I'm sure there's more, bit it's escaping me now.

The rest of our lives feel a bit chaotic this week. All energy has been going to meeting basic needs while managing Jeff's job, and caring for Simone. It feels like all we can do to keep the laundry moving... folding be damned. There is at least one load of diapers and spit-up soaked clothes every day. We can't seem to get kindling chopped until we run out and the floors haven't been mopped in two weeks. Yeah, we look like a household in the newly postpartum period and it feels like it. I went for a walk to the mailbox today after realizing that I hadn't been outside of the house in 8 days.

I keep reminding myself that we've been through this adjustment period before, that we've survived colic before, that everything changes quickly and by spring we will be in great shape again. Sometimes I remind myself several times an hour ;-)

All in all, I'm thankful that we are a well balanced family that already knows how to do all of this. I'm grateful that everyone's needs are being met and that everyone is still in good spirits.
Colic can really wreak havoc on a family, but I think we're managing well.

Now, if only eggnog were part of an elimination diet :*( I LOVE the stuff... that and the pies we froze a couple of months ago...

Ah, well...
I will take my enjoyment from the snow that comes during the -2 degree nights and then melts off in the 56 degree afternoons... the Swingin Christmas channel on Pandora, and the general happiness of my kiddos who are really looking forward to Christmas.

Keep commenting. I really love to hear from you. I enjoy hearing about who you are and what you think.
xoxo

Cry Baby. :*(

In August of 2002, 7 months pregnant, Jeff and I moved to Austin. We had no family and no friends there. Jeff worked as the Systems Administrator and Network Engineer for a large retailer, usually gone for 10+ hours a day and often having to work nights and weekends.
We lived on the edge of the city and had only one car.

It was in this situation that Quinn and I began our life together. A homebirth turned cesarean section would be the way that he would enter the world. It was traumatic for us both, and Quinn was crying before he was completely delivered. Four days later we left the hospital, Jeff returned to work, and Quinn was still crying. Crying and definitely not sleeping. With no ability to consider that I had just had major abdominal surgery (the incision from which I would later find out was infected) I carried Quinn and did not sleep for 6 days. I mean that. I didn't sleep. Not for 5 minutes. Quinn cried when he was awake and when he was asleep he fussed, kicked and woke every few minutes. Colic doesn't quite describe it.

He simply didn't do anything but cry. Finally, we cried together. I would walk circles around our little apartment and we would cry. For hours every day, for our own reasons. His were unknown and mine were unacknowledged.

We took him to every kind of doctor and healer. They did x-rays and blood work, accupressure and CS Therapy. No one had an answer for us, but everyone who heard the pitch of his scream was sure that there was something wrong.
For 6 to 8 hours of every day it went like this. Quinn and I, alone in our apartment, alone in the world, cried it out together. I held him always. In my sleep, in the bathroom, always. He desperately needed something and this was all I had to offer.

After about 6 months he began to get better, though he continued to cry inconsolably for at least part of every day until he was a year old.

We never found out why. He simply stopped one day and became a happy baby.

To this day the sound of a crying baby induces a level of anxiety in me usually reserved for those on a crashing plane.

Luckily, for us all, Nichola did not cry. Not at all. I think she was nearly three months old before she cried, and when she did she was easily consoled with a little rocking and soothing words.

Simone seemed to be born like Nichola. In fact, she was even more content and patient than Nichola. Nothing bothered her. She didn't even fuss.
Until a few days ago when she began to look a little too much like Quinn. It began with a little fussing, nothing at all concerning, except that she had not ever done it before. Then it moved to the single cry. Waah! followed by a happy again baby. Then an arched back and a cry that seemed to say she really meant it this time. Now she is in a state of general unhappiness.
Compared to Quinn, I simply cannot call it colic. She is not inconsolable. She does not cry, only elicits single or triple cries followed by squirming and fussing. She sleeps and she is happy the rest of the time.

Now, I know that she is not Quinn. I know that babies cry. But I also know that something is wrong that cannot be fixed by nursing, diaper changes, burping, singing or rocking. I hate to say it, but all outward appearances are of GERD. :*(

We are exhausted. Jeff spent the night on the sofa so that he could hold her upright because this seemed to be the only position she could sleep in. We switched in the morning and I pulled the next five hours of rocking, burping, and pacing.

We're about a week into an elimination diet to make sure that she is not sensitive to anything which I am eating. It is possible that she is experiencing the "worse before it gets better" effect of this. We are hoping.
We're also researching GERD. Trying to determine why it would have begun after several weeks of health and happiness, and what to do about it.

In the meantime, if you would, send some love and light to little Simone. I will also happily take any information you have on reflux in infants.

xoxo

It's Christmas Once More

Thank you so much for your comments. I really enjoy reading what you have to say and there are names there that I have missed seeing! Even a simple "Yeah, me too" helps me to know who's out there and what you care about. I'll admit that there have been many times that I have not posted simply because of that, "Will anyone really care" voice in my head. I suppose people read blogs for many different reasons, but the truth is that the ones that I read are in my navigation bar simply because I like the writers. They follow no real theme and have little intention besides sharing themselves. This is where I write from. I can't seem to follow a theme, or make myself stick to a schedule or point. Heh. It's just whatever is at the heart of Aimee. I'm glad you're here though.

We spent the past week in Santa Fe and had a pretty great time.
We were nervous... not yet feeling confident in managing our new family size... but it went so well. We impressed ourselves.

Though we now have five individuals with their own needs and wants we seemed to meet them all with virtually no woes.

We found a beautiful little southwestern hotel, with suites that included full kitchens, for only $59 a night. This allowed us to keep to our diet, save money and reduce our traveling and stress. Great value for us!

Our goal in going to Santa Fe was to acquire some things that we were lacking. The kids had both outgrown their winter coats and needed new ones capable of handling the sub freezing temperatures, winds and snow. Simone has, at a whopping 3 weeks old, outgrown her newborn clothes and socks already. The only 3-6 months clothing we had was Nichola's old summer stuff, so Simone needed clothes. Jeff had only two sweaters, one of which had a hole too large for me to repair. He also had only one pair of jeans... ripped as well.
Then of course there is the insult to the injury of childbirth... not fitting into your pre-pregnancy clothes. ;-p

The only place here locally to get these things is WalMart, so off to Santa Fe we went, but not before taking a few boxes of stuff to the local Free Box.

Now, we are neither fans of shopping, nor of having too much stuff, so this carried the threat of being a stressful experience. I was very proud of us all when we survived two days of hunting these things down without taxing anyone's spirits or ignoring anyone's needs. All three children were happy and Jeff and I managed to find the things we were needing at a price we were willing to pay; knowing that our shelves were empty enough to have room for them.

We made it home about an hour before the heavy snow started to fall. The weather channel was predicting a blizzard, but luckily we got only heavy snow and gusting winds. Our overnight low was around 8 below zero here in the mountains. Even nearby Taos was in sub-freezing temperatures.

This evening we decorated our Christmas tree with the ornaments that a sweet friend brought for us from Texas, sipped spiced tea, and listened to the howling winds while Bing and Dean softly crooned the Christmas classics in the background. Dinner was a simple red wine treated pot roast, and now that the tree is dripping with sparkle we're off to bed for the night. Tomorrow is a big day of wood chopping, laundry, making stock and generally taking it easy for a day.

As my To-Do Wishlist seems to be growing... articles I want to write, things I want to make, pictures I want to paint, books I want to read, classes I want to take... A world I'd like to help change... more creative schooling ventures for the kids... friends we want to spend time with...
I have been thinking more and more about the idea of simplicity and balance... wondering what exactly that looks like and how well I feel like we're striking it.

Though I sometimes feel as though there is no such thing as balance and simplicity for a family with three children... that we are so far from our ideals... I think the reality is that we are closer than we feel and that the real point is that we are always checking and working toward our ideals. These days, though they seem endlessly busy, are truly a stream of fulfilling tasks. Each month we seem closer to a life where our efforts go more directly toward our needs.

I have been absorbing more and more of the Buddhist tradition lately and am working on manifesting more time for myself to take this into practice. I have been feeling like the only place were I have been truly lacking balance is in the loss of time that I used to spend on spiritual practice. Yoga and meditation need to have a bigger place in my life, and I'm looking forward to making that happen.

Ah... simplicity... I think I'll go look that up in the dictionary ;-)

xoxo

Wow, You're Quiet!

I can't remember what made me look, but I checked the analytics on this site for the first time in over a year.
Holy Cow, y'all. There are an average of two hundred unique visitors every single day.
Why so quiet?
I didn't even know you where here.
Drop me a line sometime. ;-)

Other interesting facts:

The most popular post (not counting the initial traffic driven by the NYT article because that was just crazy-off-the-charts): The Beauty Love Left Behind
860 visitors in one day... 16 comments...
Who knew?

There are between 6,000 and 10,000 viewers each month.

You've been so quiet!
Your comments mean a lot to me. Drop me a line sometime!
Several of my very, very best friends were met through this site ;-)
Perhaps you are one of them and we don't even know it yet.

xoxo

Simple, Easy Days

Cold ham leftovers for lunch, peaceful, instrumental Christmas music in the background.
Sun streaming in the windows.
Tiny babies sleeping in soft cozy blankets.

Between chopping wood, Jeff is building shelves to take care of our closet situation.
The situation is this: We have one closet, and it is the only storage space in the house.
Luckily we have very little stuff, but we do have two seasons of clothing, coats, boots and snow suits for a family of five. We also have blankets, towels, sewing supplies and stacks of cloth diapers. All for one closet, which also houses our dryer. :-p Heh. It's a mess.

Quinn is sewing a teddy bear that he is making of my fabric scraps for Nichola.
Nichola is making trouble, mostly ;-P but occasionally stops to make messes too!

I am sewing Christmas presents, sipping fennel seed tea to help with Simone's gassy belly, and hoping to do more sewing once the kids get to sleep tonight.

Sweet, simple days...