I guess Cowin has had his first food! It was pretty anticlimactic. Corwin has of late been showing an immense interest in what I am eating, even to the point of fussing (which he doesn't do much of) when his birdy mouth isn't satisfied by a bite. So, Trevor was holding him the other night while we ate dinner and Corwin was ogling at the spoon going back and forth to Trevor's mouth and seeming quite frustrated. So, Trevor scooped up a bit of the raw Amish-made butter on the table and slid it into that birdy beak. A lot of it got pushed out by that nursing tongue, but I imagine he got the taste and he sure wanted more! Trevor gave him a couple more bits than I said that was probably enough to start with. Since then I have been giving him a 1/2 tsp of cod liver oil in the mornings. It's a great fat for those kiddos' booming brains and good for the immune systems this weather-changing time of year. Sophia never seemed as interested in food as Corwin does. Yesterday I tried some soft boiled egg yolk on him (Sophia's first food). He tried it, but much of it ended up on his bib. He was more fascinated by the fact that everyone was giving him so much simultaneous attention! :)

Here's a link to more info about how we feed our babes and kids, since we are obviously not going the modern rice cereal route.

Happy eating to all the babies out there!

seed shadows

Sophia, as we chopped apples for applesauce yesterday, picked up a chunk of apple to eat, then put in down, saying, "I don't like the seed shadows."

Seed shadows, the tough places around the apple seeds that protect that seed, that future potential the apple harbors. Tough and flexible, like a finger nail, they shield the seed from danger while also hindering the kernel's escape, making germination quite a feat. I like to think of myself as carrying many seeds inside of me, not just for physical children, but for creative projects, compassionate conversations and meditative moments. Each of these seeds has a shadow too, that protective crust of myself that keeps it alive while simultaneously hindering its growth. Isn't that an appropriate name, seed shadows . . .

Children are such natural poets. They are fresh pools for the watershed of life to pour into. Children don't know how words "should" fit together or how the world should fit together, for that matter. As we grow older, learn about categories and rules and expectations, we begin to see the world as a puzzle, I think. The picture is already set and everything has a place where it is suppose to be, where it fits. We just have to get it in the right spot. Children don't see the world as a preformed puzzle. The world is building itself anew each moment in their imaginations and they know they can make any picture they want. They make startling connection, shake us out of our puzzle-brain ruts, and somehow add clarity without always making sense.

OK, so what does it say about us and our lives that the garbage truck is highly anticipated entertainment on Wednesdays? Sophia looks for it all morning and then we stand out on the porch and gleefully watch our garbage being smashed into the truck before going to eat our lunch. Maybe we need to get out more? Poetic responses are welcome.

babies, babies, babies . . .

I'm awash with emotions this week. I'm aptly labeled thin-skinned, so the collective news of the past week has deeply touched me. I feel like a dress left out in a rain storm, saturated, the colors bleeding together.

A week ago I found out that my friend is expecting her second, hoped-for baby. Joyful, joyful news. In the past four days I found out that two of my friends who have been trying to conceive for over two years are both pregnant!! Joyful, joyful, joyful! Then, yesterday I found out that one of my friends from our parenting group had a beautiful home birth (only 12 hours with her first baby) and is blissfully bonding with her healthy daughter. Simultaneously I found out that another friend from our parenting group came down with severe preeclampsia at 6 months gestation and had a c-section. The baby is 2 pounds and doing well for his age, I hear. She was planning a home birth with this, her first child. Please send an intention baby and mama and papa's way. I cannot imagine how distressful, scary, and disappointing this must be for them. She is the third person I know personally who has had preeclampsia and delivered a premature baby. All three of these women were vegetarians. Is this just some fluky coincidence or is there something behind that? They say they don't know what causes this scary illness, but who is doing the research? Where is the information? My friend who delivered yesterday was actively watching that she got enough protein - so why did this happen? I can't help but want answers.

I am so saddened by the news and it has brought me back to my own brush with birthing a premature baby this past March. I remember how the doctor came in and told me everything that would happen to my baby if he were born that night, how I couldn't even speak to her I was so overcome by disbelief, how much I wanted him to stay in his warm, water world cocoon, how I ached for him to be full-term, home birthed and healthy. I am humbled that he was all of those things. I feel my friend's loss on so many levels - the loss of those things for her baby, the loss of her home birth, the loss of the rest of her pregnancy. How do we find peace in these events? I imagine we carry the scar forever, and it becomes a part of who we are, something we come to embrace, for it makes us who we are. Though I still have moments of sadness over my illness last March and wonder if and how things could have been different, I am also thankful for my health and my baby's health and try to see the lessons in the trauma. The way people loved me through it, even people I did not know, friends of friends, nurses, doctors, family and friends. The way I lived in the moment as I traveled the hospital journey. The way I had to keep walking forward and find my core and the way the seeds of who I am had to bare their primal beauty. Now, back to my day to day, easy to take for granted life, I am constantly thinking of the next thing, caught up in petty frustrations and not remembering that every breath is sacred.

So many emotions, so much mystery.

New slideshow added at bottom of page

Criss Cross, Applesauce

"Criss Cross, Applesauce" is what they say at Sophia's nursery school when it is time to take a seat on the rug for story time or attendance or other such stillness-is-desired activities. She came home the other day singing this lyrical phrase. It's an appropriate time of year for such a song. Today we were home, a beautiful, crisp, blue-hued, sun-sprinkled autumn day. Our neighbors by the dyke have apple trees but don't use the apples. We've gathered the harvest from their trees in years past and this year we asked if we could do the same. "Sure, take all you want," was the response. Perhaps they are happy that someone has the energy and idealism to make use of the apples. So, we filled the basket underneath the stroller bike as well as the top of the stroller. It was warm in the sun and Sophia helped some, though quickly got distracted by the children playing on the Baptist school's playground. So, I let her wander over there and play/watch since I could see her from the apple trees. As I'm writing this I'm realizing some of the benefits of living here - in this small nook of the planet, quiet and humble as it is. And I'm reminded of the Raffi song we were dancing to this morning, "Here's to the world we love, blue skies and ponies, children at play . . . earth below, stars above, God bless it every day." I'll add Apples to that. This afternoon we'll chop, cook, sieve, ENJOY!

nursery school?

Yes, Sophia Teva started nursery school at the YMCA this week Tuesdays and Thursdays from 8:30 (yikes, a bit early for us) to 11 am.  I went back and forth as to whether I wanted her to do this, and in the end decided to give it a go, since I will be teaching some classes at the YMCA during some of those hours and I figure it would be fun for her.  The program seems very play bases and not into (too) early of of academic learning.  She says she likes it.  They have a play kitchen in the room and they get to free play at first, then circle time where they say good morning to everyone, then I'm not exactly sure the schedule.  Tuesdays they get to run around in the Adventure Center (soft climbing toys) and Thursdays they go to the gym or swimming.  I wish they went outside.  They have a snack, which has been an interesting journey.  This week the snacks were Y provided, next week the parents start bringing in the snacks, and I'll be sure to keep you posted on what they are!  :)  They also have story time and sing songs.  She hasn't had any separation issues, but she is very use to the Y, knows a couple kids in the class and loves to be with other kids.  The first day she did NOT want to wear her name tag.  Luckily, they let it slide, as she was starting to cry.  I also saw her that day as they were going to the Adventure Center and when they told the kids to sit on the floor and take their shoes off all the other kids sat right down while she said "I want to sit on the bench," and headed there.  A teacher said, "No, sit on the floor" and she did, no problem.  But she is a strong willed little girl.  I like that in her.  I love her.  So, I'm not sure how I entirely feel about the whole "school" thing, but it's only a couple times a week, so we still have plenty of down time at home.  She's always very tired after class.  It's bed time now, so maybe I'll get back on the school topic at a later date.

I'll have to get some pictures of her at the Y.

Oh, to see some pictures of Corwin and me (at least the backs of our heads) at last Sunday's Parent's Group (a monthly meeting with other natural and attachment minded families) see www.JulianArts.com.  Corwin was just talking and talking to that other baby, and she was just giving him the funniest look.

Written for the Harvest Times (Canticle Farm's newsletter) 08/05/08

Fall Asters

When we moved into our home two years ago I planted perennial flowers in beds hugging the perimeter of the house. I chose flowers that bloomed at different times so that we would enjoy color throughout the brief but brilliant western New York growing season. At this time of year everything seems to be fading, the Black-eyed Susans are in full bloom, the zucchini is beginning its quick taper off, the goldenrod is painting the roadsides and open fields with its deep yellow color and the call of Canadian geese as they v-line for the south is a beautiful, but sobering song. We heed the song of the geese as a reminder that this summer, with all it gifts and pleasures is acquiescing to the nip of Autumn. Winter’s chill will soon greet our mornings.

But, in the beds around my front porch, one plant still grows skyward, not even budding out yet, acting as if we are still dancing in the giddiness of May, rather than stocking up and battening down in the soberness of September. My fall asters are now taller than my porch rail, their foliage a deep summer green vibrating off of the white paint of the porch. These fall asters give me hope. All is not fully ripened. The blooming season, harvest season, sun season is not complete, but promises much brilliance, like a final hurrah, in these next months. The fall asters will bloom well into November, offering floral beauty and peace of mind that these western New York winters are not really as long as they seem.

Likewise, the Canticle Farm season is far from over. There are still five more weeks left in the summer season, then 5 more weeks of bounty in the fall share. It may seem like the bloom of summer is gone, but fall is also a blooming, a ripening. Especially where vegetable plants are concerned, now is the time when fruit is maturing and greens are putting more foliage forth in the reprieve from summer’s heat. Winter squash, kale, onions, potatoes, carrots, beets, spinach, and fall Brassicas are yet to come, as well as good things from our high tunnels, lettuce, chard, tomatoes. Elsewhere, the apples are ripening, and the smell of cider is in the air.

Yes, the school year has begun, the mornings are beginning to require a sweater, and all the festivals of summer are closing their doors; it can seem like a somber time of year. But it is also a beautiful and bountiful time of year, and I hope you will experience its gifts each time you pick up your share this Autumn, each time you enjoy the vegetables in a meal or the flowers on your table. All is not bloomed out – the fall asters tell me this, the apple trees tell me this, Canticle Farm tells me this. So I celebrate the rest of this season’s bounty and beauty, even if I have to do it wearing a sweater and boots.

And another --

Corwin's second tooth has broken all the way through now!  Now he's a two toofer, thumb chewin', bubbly drooler baaaaaby.  Yeah, I think he's pretty cute - a sweet as sunshine in February babe.  Hug him over the Internet if you can.

Teva Tidbits

More antics and interactions from the one and only Sophia Teva.  People tell me weekly that she looks like Shirley Temple and I think she's got the personality to match.  She's not shy and loves to talk to people and ask questions. 

A couple weeks ago Keith, who lives with us, brought home his surger for me to use.  He was sitting at the table fixing it (straightening all the threads) and Sophia bounced into the room echoing her usual phrase, "What are you doing?"  When she saw the surger she switched to, "What's that?"  (Another favorite.)  "A surger," said Keith.  To which Sophia said, "Why's that for surgery?"  

We all laughed.  She hears through her experience.  Keith's son Ithilien is here on the weekends and is almost three.  He asked his dad for M&Ms last weekend and Sophia piped up, "We have almonds; do you want some almonds," and was about to go get them for him.  

It is fascinating, how much much her experiences have shaped her.  She will start a nursery school program next week at the YMCA two mornings a week while I teach at the Y.  She'll love the playing, singing, swimming and arts.  They don't press early academic learning or coloring in the lines, thank goodness, but the snacks are parent- provided for the whole class that day.  Hmmm . . . I have to admit that I am one of "those" parents.  What goes in my kids bodies IS extremely important to me.  I think that there's nothing more important to their lifelong health than what their bodies are made out of in these early years.  Plus,  their taste buds are shaped significantly in these preschool years, shaping what they crave as adults.  So, this could be interesting considering donuts, gummy worms and dunkaroos were some of the snacks last year.  Do they even need a snack in the 2 1/2 hours they're there?  Anyways, I'll stop before this gets ugly.  

Back to the surgery comment -- this reminds of the reason that she even knows what surgery is in the first place.  She's continued to process the drama of my hospitalization and sickness over the last few months.  We've talked about it a lot and she remembers a lot.  At one point she told me everything I wore when I left the hospital and exactly what happened as we left.  Crazy memories these kids have, but you wonder what will stick and come to the surface in ten or twenty years.  She plays doctor a lot with the doctor's kit someone got her when I was sick and her bed in her bedroom is called her "hospital bed."  (She doesn't sleep there as it is downstairs and she isn't ready to sleep downstairs by herself now, which is fine with me, she has a little bed on the floor of our room.)  She checks my scars often and says matter-a-factly, "Your owies are still there."  She also likes seeing the hospital when we drive past and telling me stories of visiting me there -- how the nurse gave her a band-aid because she'd cut her finger on Oma's razor and how I had to stay there and she cried.  She seems to have worked through a lot of it and no longer has tantrums around going to sleep.  By the way, she's also adjusted really well to being a big sis and is generally very generous and loving to him.  When she comes downstairs in the morning, she bypasses us and goes right to him to give him a hug and say "I love you, Corwin!"

Another thing she acts out/plays a lot is birthing.  It's so cool for me to see her have a relationship with and concept of birth as a natural, beautiful thing.  She stuffs dolls or stuffed animals in her shirt and then, after a while, pulls them out and begins to care for them.  The other week she gave birth to twins in the laundry basket (aka a birthing pool).  Their names are Henry and Eli.  I'm a proud grandmother.  

Sorry, no longer for sale . . .

Many of you have asked which thrift store will be receiving me as a donation (by the way, Corwin comes with me) since you are interested in purchasing me.  Unfortunately, Sophia has had a change of heart and no longer wishes to get rid of me.  So, fortunately for me, I will still be here, at 48 Temple Street, keeping the food, spirits and song flowing.  Stop by sometime!