George ramblings as dictated to Mayan

I left Mayan in the car to keep an eye on George while I ran into a store. I handed her a piece of paper and pen and asked her to write down everything Geroge said while I was gone, to keep her busy. This is what she wrote:

*My, Myn=Mayan
*Fairy school=this is what Geo calls his daycare
*Moog=what I call MG, pronounced Moo-j

My*, say what to make. My, make a picture of Gaga. Can I see Lady Gaga? Huh? Build a Alejandro Miss Meatball! I eat a muffin. Huh? Myn, I want to eat a muffin.........(silence for a few minutes).....I like I Dada make it here in time to make the muffins. Gaaaaaaaaaagoooooooo. Helmet to fairy school*. (in song) Grey squirrel, shake your bushy tail....Myn? Are Hot Wheels poopoo doodie?...........(more pause)....Myn, what's that sound? Myn, can you get my muffin out Mom's purse? I WANT A MUFFIN, Moog*, I want Mama. Get please a juice box out box?


I wish I could scan this, Mayan did an amazing job transcribing and it sounds exactly like Geo would talk! We laughed SO HARD when she read it back to me!

how weaning happens

...or at least how it happens with us. even more specifically, with george and me.

i cried last night. a good, hard, had-to-take-off-my-glasses cry. without complete intention, i have just weaned my last baby from the breast. (and i am 99% sure i am done having babies.) only another nursing mother can fully understand what it feels like to nurse your baby for the last time. plus, in this case i didn't know the last time was "the last time." so, now i have this little grief dancing inside my heart, that i know will settle but hurts all the same. i thought this post might help.

i did the math: i have been suckling babies for 6 of the past 8 years, with one period of rest in between. it will feel weird to not have that connection. i've said it a hundred times: nursing, if anything, is a relationship, not just a food source.

mayan nursed like a champ from the minutes she was born, and nursing her into toddlerhood not only seemed like the way SHE was going to have it, but it was important to me, as well, since she had so many food allergies and it took her a while to establish a food-diet that could nourish her. with her, nursing was a valuable tool. to calm her down when she was freaking out, and also to shush her when i needed to talk on the phone. :)

i decided not to cut this relationship short when i became pregnant with isadore. while the milk supply dwindled, she was not deterred. life was going to change dramatically for her when her new sibling arrived, and i didn't need to give her another reason to resent the new baby, by taking away her precious "boobah."

this turned out to be a good decision, when at 35 weeks isadore was induced early. while she was in the NICU and not able to nurse at the breast for her first 10 days, mayan became my "portable breast pump." i'd saved up more milk than isadore would ever be able to drink, but to keep up supply i was instructed to pump every three hours ("just like if you had a nursing newborn..." they said.) mayan went from being able to have a casual conversation with me at the breast to watering eyes and choking trying to keep up with the new flow.

once isadore was able to nurse she latched on like a pro as well, and was so efficient at getting milk from me even as a tiny 4 1/2 pound baby, that she would suck a few times, establish the flow and then lay back a let it ease down her throat with little to no effort. this completely unvalidated the formula the nurses had laid out for me: "about one cc per one minute of sucking." we had to weigh her to verify that in fact, just 10 minutes of weak, sleepy sucking she ingested 45 cc's of milk--a full feeding. we were released for home the next day.

after a few months, just as i had hoped, mayan got the picture that nursing was for "little babies", and gracefully bowed out, at age 2 1/2.

isadore was a mellow child, and a great sleeper so the nursing relationship was not as intense as it was for me and mayan. she had already lost interest at 2 years--slowly tapering off from day feeding so that the go-to-sleep sessions were the last to go--so that's when i had my first break. it was a bitter sweet transition, but deep inside i knew i'd get to have that experience one more time.

enter george-ephraim, 2 years later. his birth was everything i'd dreamed, and was healing and empowering in so many ways. i was a nursing professional now and it took no effort to establish that bond. eat, burp, sleep, eat burp, sleep...constant cycle that i practically did with one hand while i took care of everyone else with the other.

gives a whole new meaning to the word 'buffet'!

on vacation in seattle 2008

previous blog readers and other nursing mothers may know, this is called "NAKing"--nursing at keyboard

george "gettin' some" in the backseat of the car--milk that is

the difference with george, is that i didn't want to use nursing as a calming or quieting tool, but instead just for eating and just for sleeping. so once he grew into a walking, pointing, babbling, food-snacking toddler, i just never sent the message that it was something we did while we were out and about. this made the sleeping feedings oh-so-special. more than special....absolutely divine. we have a white chair in our bedroom that for the last year is where i sat nearly everyday, once in the afternoon and once at night, for george to have his "me-me." this is the word he made up at a few months old, to describe more than just the nursing but the act of me swaddling him in a specific blanket (the "me-me blanket"), binding it with a scarf and then latching on to the breast. (he eventually at age TWO was okay with not being "bound"--the boy LIKES to be restrained! don't get me started thinking about how this will play out as an adult......)

swaddled in the white chair, with his kitty halo, for our daily nap ritual. the image i will carry sweetly within my mind's eye until the day i die.

this routine, like with my other children, became so ingrained that sleeping any other way (besides in the car) became a non-choice. i have always trusted the process and knew from experience that my child would not be a nursing grad-student as many have joked, but that nursing would taper off in the time that was right for our family, around 2 1/2 years.

well, here we are.

i am preparing for a trip to L.A. in november for my 30th birthday, and am leaving the family behind. i know it would be best to have an established bedtime routine for george that doesn't require my breasts, so blake can have an easy time with having all three kids. george already has a bed in his own room so the biggest trick was getting him out of the "white chair" for that moment he drifts off. a few weeks ago, i started to nurse him until he was almost asleep and then i'd pass him to blake, who would carry him to bed with his own whispered papa-words and beardy kisses. this met with little to no resistance. then i began to skip all naps so that when bed time came, george would be very, very sleepy. a few nights ago, on a whim, i told him he could touch and kiss the "me-me" but not nurse it. this met with medium resistance. i let him nurse for 10 seconds then asked for it back, and he obliged, with a look that showed me he thought he'd just gotten away with something delightfully forbidden. then i passed him to dad in his favorite blanket, who had a sippy-cup of warm milk. blake tucked him in, and george got up and wandered in to our room a few times. we alternated tuck-ins until one stuck. i discovered if i stay, and pet his forehead like i did when he was a baby, and sing him a lullaby while his eyes get heavy, he won't get out of bed at all.

today, he seemed like he needed a nap, and i was SO temped after my tearful realization last night to just nurse him one last time. but i knew that we'd already crossed the line into successful weaning, it would only complicate matters to backtrack, so i took him upstairs with some milk and we lay in his bed together. i was doubtful it would work in broad daylight.

george (eyes twinkling with the remembrance of the new routine): "mama, touch me-me?"
me: "sure, you can touch the me-me."
i reached to pull my dress down just a bit for access.
george (every word sounding like a question): "mama? take? bra? off?"
me: "no, buddy, i am not going to take my bra off."


his hand settled into a spot, halfway down into my bra. i hand him his cup of milk. i lay my head down on his pillow and close my eyes, to send the we-are-napping message. the all-symphony station played in the background. he set his cup aside and stared off at the ceiling. i peeked periodically to see the status his eyelids. it took about 4 minutes. i slipped his hand out of my bra, ever so slowly and crept away. then i came down here to write this.

it really is over. on to the next phase.

a craft to do TODAY!

mayan likes to go thrift shopping with her grandma, and the other day she came home with a cute book on easy recipes and crafts for kids. this one in particular was SO easy and cute (and useful...i only like useful crafts) i had to share:

take a pair of old jeans (stained and worn our knees is great!) either the size your child wears or a little bigger, then simply cut across so you remove the legs and crotch, about three inches below the back pocket. then cut up the sides to the waistband and remove the front parts of the jeans including the zipper, making sure the waistband and button stays intact. what you are left with is a craft apron or tool belt....looks like this:



its FREE, it takes two minutes, and your kids can decorate them to their hearts content....

goodies from the days in bend

recently, michael took all of my old pictures and videos from my laptop hard drive and put them on the new computer....basically our lives from 2005 to 2007--pre-blogging days for me--flashed before my eyes, many memories i had forgotten.

cooking thanksgiving sister with my sister

my favorite picture of blake ever, taken on our 5th anniversary

adorable family picture in vancouver BC, october 2006

memorable sail on waldo lake on the catalina 22

this might be my fondest memory i have of the time before we decided to move: an epically beautiful fall day i drove out to DD Ranch in Terrebonne with my girls, drinking a delicious chai on the way, to spend the afternoon picnicing, wandering through the pumpkin patch, and taking a hayride. (this was taken by myself on the ride)

at one point my sister had imported all of her videos and pictures from our visits onto my computer, and some went back before we even owned a digital camera. having these little snipettes of little mayan and isadore are priceless!!


mayan is about three here and isadore one-ish.


four and two i think...mayan is pretending to be blake! hilarious...

six hands are louder than two

i've got a big post brewing for tomorrow about fashion and isadore. so here's just a little something to fill todays slot.....

scrabble with MG

i taught mayan how to play scrabble last winter, and we had a few great fireside games. sure, i give her advice on how to better play a word and help her build words if she's stuck, but i also make her add up her own points. its a well-rounded home-school activity: spelling, math (addition, value, and intro to multiplication), stategy, and of course, vocabulary. i was amused by the results of last weekend's game, as there were some...how should i say...grown-up words. i put down "sex" (i think mayan believes the origin of this word is from that show "sex and the city") and she turned it into "sexy" for 14 points. we both had a chuckle over "fart" (my play, actually.) and while i was hesitant, i could not resist the huge score on the right side of the board despite to potential uncomfortable explanation. luckily though, it began as "abort" ("you know like 'abort mission!', to cancel or call off..." i explained) and the next turn i happened to have an "ion" and no questions were asked. plus i got 30 points for it.

a post with some heart

what's wrong with me? i don't know. i can make all kind of excuses for not blogging--like our computer is on the fritz and i've been sucked into the facebook nexus instead...but really i think there is something deeper, and i can't quite put my finger on it. i have lots of things to say, but i seem to have this wall between me and the actual sitting down and writing process, even in my journal (which has always been sporadic and spans many different felt and leather books.) i feel something emotionally toxic building up inside me, as well: negativity, jealousies, unstoppable impatience, laziness. its amazing to me how forgiving my family has been, but i don't like what's going on. i feel like i've regressed a decade in maturity over just a few weeks, and i am not sure who or what to blame--i'd like to blame myself but in the past i've been able to pull myself up by my clog-straps when i've recognized a problem. i'm perplexed because i've been doing much for myself and my relationships: i work a few days a month outside the home making good money, i am exercising regularly, eating well and avoiding soy reactions, having nights-out once or twice a week with good company, blake and i are connected and getting along well, and my house is almost always tidy and clean. i should be tip-top!

but something is amiss. the worst part is my mothering. i'm awful right now--no where near being the kind of parent i want to be, approaches and philosophies be damned. my poor children get the brunt of my frustrations everytime. i find myself apologizing for my riduculous outbursts too often. most concerning is how this affects my relationship with mayan, who even on our best days have to work at a connection. to remove her from the mine field of my potential rants, which do nothing for her self-worth, she has been spending more days at nomad, where she is very happy to play chess and being the nomad assistant (she now sets up for piercings and stocks needles from the back.)

somehow isadore weathers these storms with more grace than any five year old i've ever met. a few days ago, i was coming down pretty hard on mayan over something stupid i'm sure, like housework or homework, and isadore witnessed the whole event from her barstool, while coloring and practicing her handwriting. mayan had stormed off bubbling with anger and i let her go so i could allow myself to calm down. isadore casually climbed down from her stool and into the kitchen and began to do a little housework, and as she did this she mused, "i love you, mom." and when i say "mused" i really mean that--it was not some please-don't-turn-that-anger-toward-me attempt, it was relaxed and matter-of-fact. i was stunned by it and plainly said "isadore, how can you say that after my terrible outburst?"

"i don't care about that. i only care that i love you," she told me.

at this point i had to sit down. i was in awe of her unconditional love, such a stark contrast of my own example i'd just set, and could only say "where did you come from??"

she smiled and leaned on the counter and replied, "i come from my heart."

maybe that's what missing for me right now--a path to my heart. i don't seem to operating from that place, so how could i possiby write without that source? i have much to learn from all of my children, and right now isadore is my top mentor--her forgiveness, her bravery, her big wide-open heart. i'd like to be like that when i grow up.

i can't promise i will start writing again any time soon. although i will say writing this feels pretty darn good. i don't feel depressed per se, which i've experienced before so i am not sure what to pursue to feel better. i can promise i will continue to try and put my finger on it; that never stops for me. i'm alwasy examining and reflecting on my behavior, just lately it feel like the "do-er" and "reflector" are two different people, worlds apart. in the meantime, i just hope and pray that my children are well-equipped with their grouchy-mama-repellant rain gear.

nomad week (or two) in review

last weekend (the one before memorial day) we visited the beach that is most directly west of us, Ecola Beach in Cannon Beach. look how big and handsome this boy is getting! he pretty much ate sand and threw fits everytime we saved him from face-planting in the tide pools--he's officially a toddler!


they have great tidepools there; plenty of starfish and anenomes...it was little chilly but it didn't stop the girls from wearing their swim suits...
then last wednesday, blake was invited to lecture at the portland bead society. we came along for support--it went great! blake had those ladies rollin' and everyone gushed over the kids.
he spoke about bead use in tribal culture, and brought many examples from africa mostly, although he also talked about pre-columbian examples, native american, and asian. after the talk people were able to look closely at the jewelry and the maasai book, asked him questions, shared their own stories.
the next day i took mayan out the our second Homeschool Day at the evergreen space museum in mcminnville. they host homeschool kids from 9:30 to 2 with a lecture, workshops, and games all focused around one theme--this time it was astronomy. here is the big inflatable planetarium she is about to go into.
so i have recently read this book about the effect of anxious parents on their growing children. at first i poo-poohed it, but as i read further it made a lot of sense. i started to realize that the kids need more experiences without blake and i hovering over them. especially mayan who is old enough now to figure out many things on her own, and needs to know that she can problem-solve, and succeed in new situations without her ever-present attachment figures. its time for us to be that "voice in her head" or image in her mind, after the many years of nurturing. so in that vein, since she'd been to one of these before, i let her do the day on her own, only meeting her for lunch break. when i told her i would be doing this she hugged my legs and said "thank you thank you thank you...i am going to feel like such a BIG KID!" she had a blast, but when i went to pick her up, with my newfound focus on de-hovering, i saw this and had to take a picture: nearly every child had parent at their side, jumping in and assisting with every craft and activity. last time that was ME!
so to continue this, the day after i sent mayan into trader joes by herself to pickup her special rice bread (it was the only thing i needed there.) she was so jazzed about it--i gave her instructions which she focused on intently then set her off on her mission while i stayed outside with the kids. here she comes running back with her bag of bread.
oh, the look (and feel) of success! i have noticed mayan's confidence growing, and myself have been more aware of my shift toward clinging to the idea of "my babies" and my resistance to them getting older, and being able to find joy in my children becoming more independent. it's been a very positve shift for me and blake to make.

here is mayan working at her bead shop on a custom order from myself. she and blake built a special store-front for her business and she is open saturdays, noon to six. she is building quite a customer base....an entrepeneur like her dad!

sweet George, his hair get more and more delicious every day!
blake organized his office this weekend and gave some attention to his special Star Trek room...looking very good! (i HAVE mentioned this room before, haven't I?)

fast-forward to today...today was about beauty and organization. i wandered into my sewing room and began sorting through the many boxes of clothing.....and suddenly my whole day had past. the kids clothes are sorted: baby items, girls stuff size 6 months to 3 years, girls stuff size 4-6, and finally a box for George clothes, and also items to be returned to other people. i discovered soem things i had not seen in a very long time, especially some great vintage pieces--for those that don't know have a pretty huge vintage clothing collection, although most of which i will not ever be able to wear again unless i lose thirty pounds...i am clinging to the clothes, as i cling to the hope!

the roses are blooming and i made this lovely arrangement for our table.
last night i tried to make hamburger buns from scratch but sof course, i struggled with the yeast and they did not rise properly, so they turned out like denser mini-buns. tasty though! for lunch today i used them to make tuna sliders. cute, huh?

The Sugar Fairy

Halloween is one of our family's favorite holidays, however it presents a prickly problem for the child who is food allergic. Since Mayan was old enough to participate in the festivities, we had to come up with a solution to allow the fun of trick or treating but not make her feel left out when it came time to consume the goods. I am not sure where the idea came from, possibly on-line, but since then, every October 31st, our family gets a visit from "The Sugar Fairy."

The Sugar Fairy, you see, needs sugar to feed to her sugar babies--they will die without an adequate sugar diet. Halloween is the night the Sugar Fairy harvests sugary candy treats, and leaves the children other gifts in return. In the past it is usually some wooden toys, a specialty allergen-friendy chocolate or cookie, and a toothbrush. Yes, that's right, in our house our children trade their candy for a toothbrush.

Depending on how you look at it we are either really great parents or really terrible parents.

Last night, we headed to a Halloween Party and stopped off at Nomad to pick up Blake and eat some dinner I brought from home. In order to keep their costumes clean, I was feeding bites of rice and beef and green beans to the girls. Isadore would dance over to me (she was a kitty ballerina) and would say "trick or treat!" and I'd feed her a green bean, then she'd laugh and sing "We get vegetables and toothbrushes instead of candy!" This is when it hits me, in a comical sense of course: Wow, what terrible parents we are! We have tricked out children into being perfectly okay with trading CANDY, the glorious nectar of childhood, with TOOTHBRUSHES, the traditional object related to the bane of childhood experiences: going to the dentist. If nothing else, we must be wickedly genius!

After stopping at the store, to purchase the treats for the later switch-a-roo, we arrive at the party. Now there are "big girls" there--three gals that Mayan and Isadore know and are about 9 years old. These girls know all about Halloween. It was the dads who were in charge of taking the group of kids around the neighborhood, and from what I hear everyone had a fine time. (The moms hung back and enjoyed the lovely spread of food and beverages.) When the group returned, Mayan and Isadore informed me they were headed upstairs "to sort our candy." It occured to me that this must be what the other kids do since this was not custom in our home--why would it be, of course, the Sugar Fairy normally accepts one big unsorted pile. Blake and I obliged, and retreated to the kitchen for some grown-up conversation. As we are laughing and joking, and eating it hits me: My daughters are up there with their candy and their big girls telling everyone that "We cant eat our candy...we give it to the Sugar Fairy for her Sugar Babies, and get toothbrushes instead!" with sweet grateful smiles on their sweet little faces. I remind myself that, it may not be perfectly clear that this practice is not exactly considered normal. I had this vision of Mayan coming downstairs, hands-on hips, with Isadore at her heel, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, sassily barking "Hey, we've just been informed that we're getting the shitty end of the stick on this Halloween deal! Toothbrushes are for suckers!"

I sent Blake up to check on the happenings. He briskly came down a minute later, looking for the camera. "That good, huh?" I asked. "Oh, man, you have to see this," he explained. "It's like the Nasdaq of halloween candy." Sure enough the girls were up there literally auctioning off candy, items spread out and sorted to a startlingly organized fashion. I heard River say "Alright, next up we have, 3 snickers bars and 2 three Musketeers!" Among the bunk bed and girly perfume bottles, we had a little Wall Steet, only the traders we dressed as a zombie-cheerleader, a goth, a China doll, and a Starship Enterprise officer.

The mommy in me wanted to make sure Mayan wasn't getting taken advantae of so I leaned in a said "Hey Mayan, make sure you are getting a fair deal..." Tanaya, the oldest, looked at me somewhat surprised and said "Are you kidding? She's been tough." Hee, hee, her father's daughter. We snapped a shot and left them be.

So much for my vision of the girls getting thier hearts crushed by seeing the "real" Halloween candy experience. Of course, I should have known better. This whole "Sugar Fairy" thing has always been given with a heavy dose of "wink, wink, nudge, nudge." Mayan only participates because she wants to delight in the imagination--when pressed she will admit "I know it's only you and Papa." But she enjoys playing along--she told me when I came back to the car after going into the store "Mom, I think I saw the Sugar Fairy in there!" The truth is Mayan has adapted amazingly well to her special "the-food-sensitive-kid" affliction. She rarely fusses or feels bad for herself when she is around things she can't eat. I've always made a big effort to make her things that are comparable to the food and treats served at social events we attend, but I just can't cover all of my bases 100% of the time and there are times she goes without. The most impressive part to me is that she respects what her body is telling her--she is not avoiding food becasue I tell her not to eat them but becasue she knows she is healthier when she avoids her trigger foods. I know this because I have overheard her many times or been told by friends that have had her in their care. When presented with strange foods, she states "Oh no, I can't--I'm allergic." Somehow, and I can't really take the credit, she has learned to embrace that which makes her different. The events of last night only compounded this revelation for me. I really think that although Mayan wants to fit in most of the time with her peers, she has the confidence to stand out when it counts.

As soon as we got home the girls left their brimming baskets on the counter and I hustled them upstairs to get into pjs so I could make the switch. Like a mad women I stuffed a produce bag full of the mini-candy bars, lollipops, and tootsie rolls, and hucked them in top shelf of the pantry. In each girl's basket I placed a brand new Hello Kitty toothbrush and a bag of corn-free, fruit-juice-sweetened, no artifical color gummy worms and jelly beans. Just in time to hear the approaching feet running down the stairs.

The girls were very pleased with their treats--they made big fuss over the Hello Kitty brushes ("Mine is a cowgirl!! Oooooh, Isadore yours is an asian kitty with a dragon!") I let them have some jelly beans and a gummy worm each. Blake had tears in his eyes when he saw how grateful and excited they were for their goodies. I guess we have managed to not strip the joy from the holiday that is notorious for letting children stuff face and bug out on refined sugar. In fact, as I went to kiss them goodnight Mayan showed me the thank you card she was making for the Sugar Fairy. It reads:

thank you shoogirfary for all the goodys. ar the toothbrushes magic? and the gumy worms taste grate. happy holleween shoogirfary!

It's accompanied by a picture of the fairy and her wand hovering over two baskets each containing one toothbrush and one bag of candy, appropriately labeled.

Happy Halloween to you too, dear, Happy Halloween.

same weekend, different camera

These were sent from Chemynne today:

Nicole and Geo

'Thena and C

Toooo cute! Mayan, Thurston, Isadore

Clover princess

I'm glad she got a good one of Daena and Oliver--they are one stylin' couple!

Cousin love (the good kind!--lol)

My sweet baby boy!

Grill dude (this is so artfully taken, C!)

Mayan Grace is officially six years old

I feel like since my baby, my first child, has completely shed not only her baby-ness but all signs of toddlerhood somehwere in the last few years, that I should have some epic downpouring of reflection to mark this occasion...but I don't. She just IS. And it happened so gradually, so sweetly and intense, that I barely even recall what it was like to hold her as an infant, or how her face looked if it were not for photographs. When I see her then in a picture I marvel how that face and body could have morphed into the face and body I see before me today. But there she is, and I've always thought the best adjective to describe Mayan IS Mayan--she's become her own adjective. Spunky, bright, curious, sassy all in somewhat of a laid-back manner. I've always questioned how to wrange her potent spirit and guide it best, without having it burn out of control, or just burn out--I've always wondered how best to be her mother, and I've veered in many directions, but have come to terms that no matter how I parent her, SHE will always come though in the end. I need to worry less, and enjoy her more because it's truly fascinating getting to know how she works. Sometime when I see a quality that I envy in her I realize its something she has gotten from me--that helps center me. I am the Mother of Mayan, and I am forever changed for the better.

Whoa, I guess I did have something to say about it....:-)

Here was our day today:

fried chicken tenders are the perfect beach food: fill a ziplock bag with 2 parts rice flour, 1 part tapioca flour and 1/2 part flax meal, plus a few tsp of salt and a few tsp of dry mustard powder. dip some chicken pieces (this time i did tenders but drumsticks are great too) in a shallow pan with rice milk, then place then in the flour-mix bag and shake shake shake to coat. fry them in an inch of high-heat cooking oil (safflower or canola)

a little sisterly sand burying

blake is on dogs-not-on-leash-patrol

my beautiful daughter

my how they grow!!!

surprises awaited us when we returned!

cookie made a jewelry box--and sent other great things like a bike basket and bike horn--watch out knapp street!

what is that flash of white, you ask? its the girls so excited about the dresses that uncle walter and uncle bruce sent that they could not wait to try them on

darling, eh?

the chocolate "butterfly" cake....i wonder what her wish is!


thanks to all her who called and sent gifts. mayan kept declaring all day what a perfect birthday it was. she was full of gratitude by the end of it all. love!