Cultivating

(Carter and me, taking some time to just be. Olympic Peninsula, WA)

In reading this post, it brought to light for me how much I treasure the little vegetable garden I planted a couple weeks ago. It's something I've been planning since last summer. I began with little idea of what I wanted to include and then where I might be able to find a home for it in our yard. A place not too big, with just the right amount of light, and where Winston wouldn't be running through it. I actually built the border, a row of partially buried bricks, last fall, and had a sketched drawing of where each plant would live in my little 8' x 8' square of life. As soon as I knew the danger of frost was gone, (late May at our house), I dug up all the weeds, filled our jeep with planting soil, and hoed the dirt.

The next day I took a cherished trip to the gardening store alone and just walked up and down the aisles breathing in the fragrant-fresh smell of the nursery. I loaded my cart with herbs and a few sprouted plants, and carefully picked my seed packets (do I want big max or autumn glory pumpkins?). I returned to my patch of earth and tenderly planted my crop. It didn't take long, Shorter than Mark's trip with Carter to the hardware store, but I had sown my seeds and was filled with a sense of satisfaction and anticipation.

Having two young children and full time job often leaves me feeling like I spend most of my time and energy meeting the needs of others. And making sure I have sleep and food and the basics is for the purpose of being ready to serve others again. But not my garden. It is my own 64 square feet that I can do what I want with. My energy put into it is for no purpose but my own. If all the plants die or flourish, I'm the only one who will care, and right now that is good.

I look forward to the fruits and vegetables I will have over the next few months, but it's really more about the journey. It's a few minutes a day Carter and I spend together watering (he loves the shower head on the hose), and it's a few minutes a day where I am solely focused on the signs of life. It's my little zen garden where I can take a few minutes for myself to cultivate.

The Sea

I am struggling where to start with this entry, or where it is going, so I'll just begin . . .

I'm having vividly detailed visions of the sea recently. Not a calm, sunny day, breezy sea. More like a late evening, cloudy night, slightly drizzling sea that churns and froths. The moon is full but is almost completely covered by shapeless clouds, with only a faint glow of cloaked light cast on the beach.

I find myself a part of this scene in many places, sometimes standing on the beach, watching those close to me swim in the sea, struggling, doing their best to stay afloat. Other times I am that person in the sea, splashed by waves, bobbing with little control over my direction. Later, I sit upon a floating vessel, not so much a boat, but perhaps an inflatable raft or unstable surfboard. I ebb and flow with the waves, not really going anywhere, but in a constant state of motion.

All around me, at work, at home, on the phone, in conversations with others, I find I am surrounded by and a part of unease. As I support others who are floundering, I also fumble and falter. It's not one event, one person, one area of life. It's an indefinable sea that has no clear borders and edges. This lack of definition leaves me at a loss for words, unsure of what I need. My usual compulsion to talk and consult and vent is absent. Silence feels more comfortable right now.

But I feel buoyant and hopeful. In time the strokes I need will come naturally and fluently. The clouds will part, and I will once again regain my footing, will see clearly what to do, how to proceed. There is no storm brewing on the horizon. I only need to wait and be patient, take deep breaths and keep on moving.

A new dance

I'm taking a deep breath right now. And a second. Not something that happens very often around here these days. Life is full with two kids. Sometimes it feels so chaotic that I wish I could snap my fingers and escape to five years ago, but those moments are few and far between. Mostly, I love the feeling of completeness I have when I am caring for my family.

Mark and I are gingerly feeling out the dance steps needed to follow the music of two children. Sometimes I have to stand in place rocking a baby in my arms while Mark twirls around me to entertain Carter. Other times, Mark has to bow off the dance floor to take a few minutes' rest and nurse a beer before re-entering, ready to go again. We definitely step on each other's toes at times, but we try to be understanding and recognize that neither of us is familiar with this new music, that we both need time to find the rhythm and get in the groove.

Below are some recent pictures of some of our more peaceful moments. I try to make an effort to cherish those times when we are just living in the moment without worries of finances and daycare and parenting disagreements.

Mark and the boys on the couch (credit: Noelani for the cute clothes!) As you can see, Cameron is having no problem putting on weight. After his most recent doctor's appointment, the doctor said I seem to be equipped to feed triplets, at least. Cameron had gained 4 pounds in two weeks, half his body weight.

This is Cameron's first camping trip at six weeks old. People thought we were crazy for doing it, but I think we needed to prove to ourselves that we could still get out in the the woods, even with two kids. It went pretty smoothly. Not quite as relaxing as camping without kids, but still better than not going. I think we're going to attempt it again this weekend, with some climbing mixed in, too.

Me and the boys. Cameron's getting some naked time to heal his diaper rash, and Carter's hammin' it up for the camera. Lately, when Carter sits next to Cameron or asks to hold him, he then says, "Camera?" as if to imply, "Don't we look cute enough to take a picture of?" And he's usually right.

I

Life's choices

I just finished watching a special on MTV about a guy who documented his year traveling around the world. He gave up his high-paying job in NYC and spent $20,000 in 23 countries over 50 weeks. I spent a bit of my day getting out newborn baby clothes and washing burp clothes for our upcoming family addition.

In this moment I find myself melancholy, not for the path I've chosen and regret, but for not being able to live two simultaneous lives that cannot coexist. Travel has always been a huge love of mine, and I look back at my times out of the country with only the fondest memories. But I think of my little boy sleeping soundly in the next room, and my heart melts.

Everyone always tells you that life is tough; that it's full of choices; that you can't have everything. I know this, and yet I still wish I could fulfill my dichotomous needs of having a family and traveling the world. I know that kids and a husband don't automatically mean I can't have some adventures abroad, that there are ways to make it happen, but traveling single with loose plans and no one to answer to don't fit in that picture.

Do I wish I had done more before I got married and had kids? I really don't think so. I love the life I've chosen and the family that completes me. But I find myself looking around at this moment, and noticing all the stuff we have, and how complicated things are at times. Have I gotten too comfortable in the suburban, family-years, 3-car owning lifestyle that is absent in the presence of travel? I have glimpses into a fantasy of getting rid of most of our things, living out of a little rental apartment, and having the freedom of being mobile again. After looking into selling our house and finding out what a mistake that would be, we are anything but in a position to uproot right now.

Part of my mental state right now, I'm sure, is due to the fact that I'm 30 weeks pregnant and extremely limited in what I can do. I'm not even supposed to fly on a plane beginning in a few weeks, much less travel around the world, and that simple restriction makes it look all the more appealing.

Perhaps what I need to focus on is not what I wish for that I can't have, but what little things I can do now that will at least partially satiate my need for experiencing something new and different, something beyond white-skinned, English-speaking, hamburger-eating Americans. A short, inexpensive trip to Mexico or the Caribbean may even do it for me. I'll keep that as food for thought for now.

Meanwhile, I will enjoy the choices I have made and recognize all that I would be missing out on if I were off traveling: A wonderful husband and a little boy who is the light of my world. These are not small things to be thankful for.

Ups and ups and downs

After having almost two and a half weeks off from work for the holidays, I have now been back to work for almost a full week. My break was great. In that much time I got so much of what I needed in so many ways. I had time with my family who came to town (though not long enough), which means Mark and I also got some alone time, out cross-country skiing on my new skis. We had some great family time with just the three of us, playing trains on the floor and sledding after the big storm. I also had a bit of time away from the family out with a friend, and some quality time with just Carter after Mark returned to work.

We also started potty training Carter and have had great success. There were many days at first where he just ran around with no pants, but relatively few carpet scrubbings occurred! Lately, he’s been averaging just one accident a day, pretty good considering I wasn’t even sure he was ready. He just may be trained by May when I’ll have another one in diapers.

I had a bit of trepidation about going back to work after such a restorative break. Getting truly dressed and having to go to meetings every day did not sound appealing to me. I went to work on Monday a bit overwhelmed and unmotivated. With a laundry list of things to get done by a deadline, I had to jump right in, and it was actually easier than I thought. As the rhythm slowly returned, I began enjoying what I was doing, and by Tuesday I was eager to return to work to continue my two major projects. This week I have really felt good at what I do and have realized what a feeling of accomplishment and self-respect my job gives me.

As much as I enjoyed my break, I also enjoy the mental stimulation my job gives me. Don’t get me wrong, there are definitely days that are rough and parts of my job that are stressful and thankless, but overall it fills a need in me to use the intellectual side of my personality.

However, my enthusiasm for my job has been tempered by the recently discovered uncertainty of my position. My principal just told me that the person who gave her money to fund my job (one-of-a kind in our district) resigned and that no one currently has a way to officially fund my position next year. I’m guaranteed a job next year, but not this one, the one I love. My principal firmly supports what I do and is going to go to bat for me, but it is not a sure thing. It sounds like I’ll know more in February, hopefully. Meanwhile, I’ll just enjoy what I do and hope that the skills and experience I’ve gained with this job will open new doors in the future. Keep your fingers crossed.

What do YOU want?

I'm reading the book "Eat Pray Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert. I'm not very far into it but already love her style of writing and her personal way of connecting to the reader. At one point, when her life is sort of falling apart and she's going through a messy divorce, she begins to appreciate the little "compartments of time and space that were appearing in [her] days, during which [she] could ask [her]self the radical new question: 'What do YOU want to do, Liz?'" She starts out with little things like going to yoga class and buying a new pencil box, but she also ends up living in Italy, obviously a pretty major thing she wants to do.

This little snippet out of the book struck me and has me asking myself the same question. I think I do a pretty good job of not letting time just slip away from me doing chores and errands. We get out and do things quite often. But having a husband and kid make it so easy to want to do what will make everyone happy, what will work best for the group. And that's fine. But I think I need to do a better job about getting those little things I want. Like reading a good book or going to hear some good live music. Things that don't work well for everyone. Things I really have to make an effort to do. And world travel. That's a tough one to get in right now.

On the other side, though, asking myself that question reinforces just how much I already have what I want. I have a family that I love more than the world itself, I have a job that I (hope to) love, and breaks that allow me to spend time with my family and travel locally. I live in a place where I can do the things I love like camp and hike and climb. I don't have any major conflict in my life and have a very strong, wide-spread support network of people that can support me when things go south. So I think life is good. I have most of what I want. I feel full of what I need.

A time to...

Warning: The following is highly philosophical and full of relationship-speak. Do not read if in search of light-hearted humor.

On our "hot date" at the Breckenridge Brewery last night, Mark and I had quite a deep conversation, during which we began discussing the dynamics of relationships and how people's personalities can be influenced by them. Being the teachers we are, Mark came up with the graphic organizer of a Venn Diagram, and I jumped right on board. Basically, we concluded that people have many characteristics that show themselves at one time or another, and we highlight those based on our current circumstances. For example, when we are dating, we highlight the ones we have in common with the other person, the overlapping part of our circles in our Venn Diagram. We feel so in sync and like-minded with the other person. It's not faking who we are; it truly is a matter of emphasizing certain traits.

However, we can't ignore all those other traits that make us up. Stress, life changes, or a new environment might coax out those other characteristics. Let me tell you, an addition to the family certainly does. Necessity of domesticity when having a baby forces my organized, on-task, schedule-loving self out of hiding and to the forefront of my personality. My free-spirited, LNT, let's-be-spontaneous self gets shoved to the bottom of the bag. That self hasn't left completely, but it's definitely not in the spotlight.

So, after all that philosophizing, venn diagram drawing, and analyzing, what's the point? The point is, how do we maintain relationships based on common traits when the common traits aren't highlighted by our current situation? As Mark and I have talked about, it's not the things we do that we have in common; those are just our avenues to whatever makes us click. So how do we find new avenues to those same ends? That's the question, I guess. Not just for us, but for everyone in a relationship, whether it be friendly, familial, or romantic. When life changes, how do we change to maintain what we have, but in a new way?

Let me know if you've found the magical solution.

This song kept running through my head as I was writing. Maybe the answer's in there somewhere.

To every thing, turn, turn, turn
There is a season, turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven
A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep

To everything, turn, turn, turn
There is a season, turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven
A time to build up, a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones
A time to gather stones together

To everything, turn, turn, turn
There is a season, turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven
A time of love, a time of hate
A time of war, a time of peace
A time you may embrace
A time to refrain from embracing

To everything, turn, turn, turn
There is a season, turn, turn, turn
And a time to every purpose under heaven
A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time to love, a time to hate
A time for peace, I swear it's not too late