Friday, January 25, 2013

update on last post

not so mature cuz it's funny still today that yesterday my friend posted on instagram a sweet picture of her 9 year old in an evil kneival outfit she made with the caption
"thank goodness for colored dick tape."
typo for *duct tape.
we do family games. and it is not ever mature. some people opt out of certain games. grandma does not like Clue, charly loathes Sorry, and Monopoly just brings back childhood memories for me of my brother cheating.  spoons is a game we all can play, little ones too.  i am thankful for my brother and mom who add such a wonderful dynamic to our home.  tears came down my face this night of spoons.  i can make ruthless fun of my brother, draw blood from my daughter, and squish my unborn baby from jumping across the table for a spoon.  but i won.
december 2012...2 days before delivering everett


love documentaries and historic novels, or poetry, or people watching.
don't love star trek, buck rogers, lord of the rings, harry potter, imaginations of other worlds.
call me unimaginative.
if you paid me i would not go into space.
last week the background documentary while working was first
The Art of Rap (explores how the poetry of rap is used by artists)
and The Human Experience.
loved it.
this new person i helped make, i will help him in this human body
as much as i can while we both are here, "i gotcha some milk bro, 24/7."
the more age i acquire the more the paradox of knowledge sets in:
the more i learn the less i realize i know.
the dogma of youth is sub-planted by awe of mystery.
how did the blackberries i ate make this boy's blue focused eyes?  dunno.

"The more mature person is not the person who has all the questions settled.  No, the mature person is the person who enters ever more deeply, ever farther and farther and farther into the mystery and into the wonder."

Thursday, January 24, 2013

alumni and future alumni

despite glaring flaws, being an attorney rocks. especially when i get to throw walt whitman quotes in pleadings and no one knows. in ten years if the boy's 11 year olds dream of the NFL hasn't come to pass he wants to be an attorney.  i support that and his arguing skills.  here he is at age 4. so cute!
this kid used to say "chuuuuz" for about 10 different things (Uncle C, cheese, yes, etc.) last night during our dinner at Metro Pizza he successfully said to me upon my return to the table, "not only was she mean, she was a hypocrite." something went down between him and charly while i was in the bathroom stall nursing Everett. (nursing in public...a sordid affair) i did not ask details.  ha! hypocrite. what a difference a decade makes.

now about those muffins...

i have been a vegetarian, a vegan, an omnivore, a good person, a bad i will try being a bull.

after reading this article in the nytimes about Yang & Holmes i thought the critic may be cut in the same mold as charly.  these are some of her quotes on food:
-i want to open a bakery on the beach
-things taste better when you make them mom (aka fix breakfast, pack my lunch for school, make dinner)
-i would have no reason to live if my tastebuds did not work
-i want to go to college in a town with really good restaurants
-working at the bike shop will be great this summer, cuz there is an in n out, del taco and tropical smoothie close by
-(talking to her uncle c) "i love food." he replies "i love you too char" no, i said i love food.
-(on the amazing conchal beach in costa rica) this beach was had the best chicken kabobs ever! (tico sold food from a grill at the back of his truck)

and so on.

dance more to uncrowd the mind

the 6 year old loves music, loves to dance, loves to sing.  this was a genius christmas gift for him.
on to a heavier rant...
i think the saying of "no regrets" is ignorant.  
each day that closes as inventory is taken in prayer there is a plea for forgiveness.  so much could have been done better.  the minutes spent more effectively: it can be maddening.  beating oneself up is a state of being. what can alter that?  more prayer, buddist meditation, extreme exercise, juice cleanse, cooking more dinners, activities with kids?  dunno. regrets are inescapable when they emerge continually.
everett's hand clasps tightly around my finger during feeding him.  little body with a soul. he came here and i get to be here with him. fully taking care of him at first. i will help him out now and all along his way.
deacon has such huge eyes. i had him write "i will not watch YouTube because i did not keep the deal i made with mom" three times and put it on the computer. hopefully this helps him out some on his way.
deven. i fell so in love with him when he was a month old. this love will hopefully help him out along his way.
charly is my soul sista. i clean her room and take her to a plethora of activities to help her out on her way.
andrew is my mate for eternity. that hopefully helps both us out along our way.
shhhh, be still vanessa, and know that i am God.
my PaPa on the right. long since passed.

Saturday, January 12, 2013

and by the Universe

no church for baby.  too many people, bad breath, germs.  we are content to spend our days in our beautiful home with each other.  he is so tiny in his car seat it seems pointless to put him in it.  i have left for an hour to go to CVS with charly, and once for two hours for the endodontist, otherwise being close to him is the priority.  nothing soothes like a mother when they are this age.  just as i adore his smell, his skin, his sound, so does everett calm at my voice, my skin, my smell.  these days are the sweetest.  a baby sling will enable cleaning, cooking and walking to take place with him right where he needs to be.  from the first skin to skin contact we had, to when he starts moving on his own...i don't want to miss a moment with him.

memories fade.  was i this in love with the other three newborns?  his heaven smell, his grunts during nursing, his dramatic yawns.  he came via induction on our anniversary.  a planned tactic to override the day with celebration of his birthday.  i labored from 7:30 to 3.  he came so quickly once i was complete that the staff was scampering to get ready.  the dr. i had never met was even more displeased with his day once he HAD to deliver me right that minute because baby was coming.  he was small.  there was a true knot in the cord.  i studied the dr. as he pulled the placenta from me and plopped it in a tupperware.  i did not cry until charly came over to my bedside, "good job mom.  really good job."  she was the perfect companion thru my day and first night, staying by me so protective and watchful.  as always.  andrew, mom, deven, deacon, CE and his family (briefly).  the dearest people to me there to share in the unfathomable existence of another son, grandson, brother, nephew.  everett lee was born at 2:59 pm on December 27, 2012 weighing 6 pounds 15 ounces 18 inches long.  i knew his arrival would be so joyous based on the dichotomy of joy the past years have brought.  the suffocating space i have wiggled in has finally opened and given way for more life. more light. forgiveness, baffled as i am by the absence and current state of dad, is as baffled as i am by this spirit beginning his turn on earth in this ideal body formed in my body. his eyes: miracles. his breathing: miracle. his life: miracle.  i approach the middle of my sojourn while these four children i share time with are at the beginning while my mom, "68 Christmases" is more on the end stage.  i really really hope that we all get to be together forever for real.  that had better pan out. faith, hope, charity.  i was nursing everett last night (the boys were at a UNLV game) after i had colored charly's hair a shade darker.  thinking of these truths and heavy with perspective she came bouncing into my bathroom to grab something.  "please don't come over to me, don't come over to me" i did not want her to see my cry.  seeing your mother cry is painful.  but she always comes over.  even for a second. everytime she comes in. to give me love.  and her weight on my bed and long fingers on my leg...made me cry.  "it's ok to cry sometimes mom."  empathy. "why are you crying..." care.  understanding.  she stayed the first night of everett's life at the hospital. next to me, always. we stared at the baby a couple hours.  talked, then she retired to her iphone.  her mere presence alleviates loneliness.  or isolation.  i told mom that at the baby shower held for me at firefly having charly by my side keeps me present.  despite my fabulous friends who planned such a thoughtful lunch, gifts, books, laughter, food, music, and love...having my daughter by my side at the age of 13, when she cares so sincerely and deeply (hours shopping at target for supplies, making a fabulous diaper cake, taking photos, wanting it to be a fabulous party for me because she wants me to feel joy)...that investment she has in life is a huge contributor to making life real for me.  my pretense and detachment has been worn deep as a crevice after years of water wear.  many times, without her knowing or trying, she is the water that fills that crevice full enough for me to climb out of the confined space and wander the banks where the flowers grow.  crazy curly haired girl was sent first to virgo intense me.  hallelujah.  kind of like my mom but intensified by 100.
next post will be about the connection with that deep deven.  then the joy of happy deacon. (despite sullenness in photo below)  it will be fun to see how the boys grow and change.
christmas is over.  a new year, a new root canal, a new baby, a new start in the church.  what i can do from this point is learn from the 36 years, and hopefully do better and be better for the ones i love. last night the kids and i read "love you forever," one of a few books my sweet friend kristen gave everett.  not meant to be a funny book, the three of us had tears of laughter from the pictures of the mom crawling into her teenage son's room to pick him up and rock him, the decrepit cat, and the ladder to the window.  interesting book, it will probably become one of our favorites.  but you know one night soon deven's mom is going to come crawling into his room to try and rock him.


Thursday, January 10, 2013


to live in this world, you must be able to do three things:
to love what is mortal:
to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; 
and, when the time comes to let it go, 
to let it go. 
{ mary oliver }

and then spend foreva eva with them. really, that better pan out. my people.

last night:
-charly is practicing/filming herself for a youtube video she has been asked to be in with a well known youtuber.  she is doing this in the main room in the house.
-the boys are wanting their dinner and making noise
-"i am filming. be quiet, or leave." she sets her iphone up on a skinny ledge. it balances precariously. i say nothing.
-"want me to hold the phone and film you," Deven offers.  "no."
-deacon keeps photobombing her filming because he has picked up the end of the dance (and he is so cute)
-fail on getting the video, she has to go to hip hop.
-later, she tried again. "dev, will you film me." he is on the couch doing homework and watching star wars.  "no."
-she puts the iphone in the same spot she did in her earlier 10 attempts. phone falls and cracks.
-andrew gets mad at dev for not helping and sends him to his room. dev argues, slams door. drama.
-i emerge from feeding everett to ask drew what was up. he does not like my tone. begins a launch into possible large discussion on our communication.  ended that quick, hug, love.
-talk to char about her phone and why dev and her are bickering. she explains things are just not "flowing"; her laptop being stolen (that was 6 months ago), phone breaking, school being so repetitive,  homework, waking up early, messy room, the boys asking random questions, dad getting upset with her when i am not around, etc. ends with "just love me" (oh, i do little/big girl, i just do)
-talk to dev about not arguing with dad. love. help him with his english comma extra credit to get C to a B
-everett is breathing short and acting not like his usual 2 week self.  as if he has a self yet.
-make char sleepytime tea to relax her and watch modern family
-boys finish star wars
-i ask andrew to take turns through the night to stay up with everett.  long night watching his labored breathing.
-morning, get ready to take baby everett to doctor. and deacon is sick. again.

sometimes our family, despite our best efforts (is it really our best?), falls into a quagmire of not connecting with one another.  we love each other deeply.  this is why we are taught how important forgiveness is. even when no one apologizes, we forgive. we love deeper despite no return.  that is the return, an ability to love deeper.  even when we are hurt/angry/alone/indigent/maligned/ parallel lines, we may never meet on top of each other, but we run along side each other. forever.  that is not so sad.
drew attempted to fix the iphone. it took awhile. above is the result. love.

oh the people that you meet when you're walkin' down the street

had a night at the Wynn hotel with the kids.  saw some amazing flowers, ate some delicious room service, jumped on some fluffy white beds, played with the automatic curtain/sheers button til it started to make a strange noise, went day time hot tubbing and met this guy...he was from tv. somewhere in tv land. after 10 minutes of it bugging it came to me (love when that happens, seems to be taking longer to these days). he was the winner of some season of The Voice.  the girl wanted to talk to him, but was too shy. as she should be. so she asked me to, just to make sure it was Jermaine   of course. and it was. and we talked shop about kids with the kids.  only one of my kids is super talkative to strangers. so deacon took the convo from there.  love these kinds of vegas nights. but the best kind of vegas nights are the ones like this one:

Friday, January 4, 2013

2012 work done

happy, happy new.

Te Deum

Not because of victories
I sing,
having none,
but for the common sunshine,
the breeze,
the largess of spring.

Not for victory
but for the day's work done
as well as I was able;
not for a seat upon the dais
but at the common table.

Charles Reznikoff

The time/space continuum studied years ago creeps into my daily life (by combining space and time into a single manifold, physicists have described in a more uniform way the workings of the universe at both the supergalactic and subatomic levels). I look at photos of Deven from when he was went so fast with him because he seems to merge into the background at times.  He is not demanding, high needs or vocal, therefore, to reach him I have to seek him out.  The other three children (4 kids. 4, bonafide pioneer woman I am, no?) seek me in reciprocal amounts.  I go to them and they come to me.  More often than not I have to go to Deven to connect to him.  Content being solo can be a great attribute.  I understand that ability.  However the time he spends on Minecraft or in his room's safe space means time passing without connection to me.  That gives me anxiety.  Last night after the routine of a newborn was finally calmed (messy baby, first bath, stress on baby, blowout in the tub, new outfit, another blowout, nursing, major spitup, new outfit, more nursing, etc.) the house had quickly fallen into disarrary.  Char was on the family computer, Deacon playing the Wii and Dev multitasking his laptop/tv/homework all at once.  (I loved the quater Dev was grounded from electronics for his grades.  We had much more time together). What to tackle first after Everett?  Dev.  "Please don't watch Netflix while doing your homework, and, American Dad is not a show that I want you or Charly watching...with so much uplifting media why choose such crap?"  Dev is sullen, he shuts down easily.  "Dev, I hate being a nag.  Let me explain why I ask you to get off your electronics.  Simply, I miss you.  I want time with you.  I love you.  You invest your free time in activities that don't bring you closer to me or your family when you hole up in your room.  You are almost 12...that gives me a short 6 years with you at home.  Please, we have such a beautiful connection; can we invest more in that?  I know I am not a lot of fun with being pregnant and now having a crying kid attached to me most the time, but I will do what I can to be with you."  Dev's eyes well up with tears.  Sensitive boy, deeply.  "Mom, I never thought of it like that," he honestly admits, "and I don't like it when I feel you are upset with me."  "I am not upset.  I am pleading, because I love you."  Tear drops, his nose starts to run, I start to cry.  We hug and cry a few minutes then regroup. He came out and built legos with deacon, then asked for a Capriotti's sandwich for dinner.  At 11 that night, while feeding the baby, Dev comes and flops on my bed.  He heard me, he tried, and I am blessed to have a deep emotional connection with my son; if I seek him out he is there.