The Food of the Gods

It's not chocolate. It's bananas.

Why we do what we do.

I volunteer. A lot. I can't help myself. I agree to do things because I know they need done and I worry that no one else will do it. And Scott is the same way. He was the cub scout pack leader for a year after Zaven was out of scouts just because no one else would do it and he didn't want it to fall apart. But we have a reason. We do what we do because it's the right thing.

This summer, Scott worked for Upward Bound, just as he does every summer. And just like every other year, he and I both put our hearts into trying to make this a wonderful experience for his students. And one of the things we got to do was invite some of the kids over for a cookout. when they got here, Zoe immediately told them it was time to play in the sandbox. So all of them went to the sandbox and played with her.

It's funny, I know. But it also breaks my heart a little. Some of the kids in this program are not appreciated by their families. A few are not really even wanted. They come from broken homes, poverty, or worse. And we, the big we, not just our family, or the program, or the donors, but all of us, everyone who cares and tries and gives of themselves... We try to make the world a little better for them. Because despite the fact that they are three times as tall as Zoe, they are just kids. Kids playing in a sandbox.

Getting worse by the moment

Today, as we sat on the porch and tried to pretend there weren't hundreds of things we should be doing, needed to do, and really did not want to do, Zoe looked up at her dad, smiled lovingly, and enthusiastically declared, "You rock!" Then she added, "You are a rock. I don't like you. I hate you."

M-16, The Eagle Nebula

This is the M-16, the eagle nebula. It is a beautiful thing. I have a hard time thinking the universe was made by accident when I look at these pictures. When I look at these, I feel the same way I feel when I look at my kids, or really, any kids. I feel it was made with the utmost care and thought.

And this is a small part of it. Small being a relative term since they are light years tall. And if you're wondering how big that is, the earth is 8 light minutes from the sun. It's called the Pillars of Creation. Stars are born here. Or rather, they were. They were destroyed by a supernova about 7, 000 years ago. But we won't be able to see the blast for another thousand years.

And this bit is the Stellar Spire. Somehow it looks like it's moving to me. Spinning and dancing like a little girl. Maybe it is. You never know.

The Great Escape

I normally try to write something for this blog every few days. But as you may have noticed, that hasn't been the case lately. I've been doing good if I get something written every few weeks. I thought I should explain what's up, since some of you may wonder if I'm even alive. It's all pretty simple: Zoe figured out how to open the baby gate and the front door.

Sometimes, she leaves them wide open and she and Quinn simply start exploring the house, i.e. dumping everything in the floor and getting into dangerous situations. Sometimes she remembers to close the gate behind her and Quinn stands at it screaming and throwing his things over it. And sometimes, she heads outside and plays with the kittens, i.e. carries them by the tail and tries to teach them how to go down slides and ride on swings by themselves. Outside isn't as bad as it could be because I live a fair distance from the road. But it's not great because there are all kinds of trouble they can get into right next to the house.

So my days are now spend chasing and corraling and picking up the messes left behind. But pre-school starts in the fall. And Zoe will be gone for a few hours each day. And somehow, even though I look forward to a few hours of time alone with Quinn, I hate to see her grow up. She is finally out of the terrible twos, and though she's still a difficult child at times (especially when she's sleepy), she can be such a joy. She is vibrantly alive, playing and laughing and coloring and thinking all day long. She will be four on Friday, and she's so excited. She wants a huge party like Caly had for her birthday.

And Quinn will be turning two in September. He loves to run, to sing, to play music on every toy he can find, all at the same time. He's gone through all of Zoe's old toys and searched out each one that plays a song. His goal seems to be to have them all going at once and then run back and forth and jump up and down to the music. I have never seen a baby love music so much. He sings more than he talks.

Being Lazy

Today I feel insanely lazy. The is warm and breezy and I feel like taking a nap. Which would be great, except I've felt this way for about two weeks. When last I wrote, I was busy trying to get the house cleaned up for Caly's party. We did get it clean, the party was wonderful, and I was worn out. My friend Jenny came to visit for a few days, which was especially nice timing since everything had been spiffed up for the party. We got to relax, go out to eat a few times, and just enjoy some peace and quiet (as much as one is able to with kids, that is).

And since the weather has been nice, the kids have been outside a lot. So I've been taking it easy, just relaxing and not getting much done... and now the house is a wreck again, I'm behind in EVERYTHING, and I still feel like sitting here doing nothing.

Tonight, I will finally get around to putting up some of those party pictures, and of course doing some cleaning. And tomorrow I'll have to make myself get back to doing all the stuff that comes up when you have kids. But for now, I'm off to sit on the porch and watch the kittens try to grab each other's tails.

Cleaning

I hate cleaning. Well actually, I hate re-cleaning. But the problem is that things don't need cleaned once. They need cleaned, then re-cleaned, then re-cleaned, ad infinitum. When you build a house, you don't have to re-build it the next day or the next week or even the next year. And when you write a book you may re-write sections or even the whole book. But eventually you finish it and stop. You don't continue to re-write it for the rest of your life. But when you clean, you do so knowing that you will be doing it again soon. That you will be doing it over and over the rest of your life. And it's just kinda depressing and futile seeming.

That being said, I am enjoying the product of our depressing and futile labor today. We are having a birthday party in a few days and we're trying to sort through every bit of our summer and winter clothes, clean the house, shop for the party, wrap the presents, and make the cake. It's a lot and I'm worn out and stressed out and occasionally freaking out. But we FINALLY made some real progress this afternoon. The kids realized that I truly would cancel the party if they didn't start working at it instead of play-working at it. Half-hearted efforts and breaks for everything they could think of were not cutting it. But they pulled themselves together and started really trying to get something done. And they did. Our house is not clean by a long shot, but it's a lot better, and you can see that things have changed and improved. So even though I know that I will eventually be re-cleaning every last thing that I cleaned today, I am feeling better about it.