let go laughin'

I have Sugarland in my head. That Jennifer has a Dolly Partony voice, and I am diggin' it. snack time at the beach
he was trying to look around the camera at the couple next to us

all in a day's work

my darling baby is sick--she goes in tomorrow (monday) for a check-up--but i don't think a girl with a green nose has to stay home from the lake :)

the new mat
and you are. welcome.

summer in the new america

beating the heat with the neighbor boys

(yes, it is june. yes, my door mat is from halloween.)

both of these plants were my Grandma's

the results of my introduction to gluten-free flour.

note to self, add some spices to cover the bean flavor.

St John's Sunday & Father's Day

the love of my life is the father of my pride and joy.

breakfast.

satisfied popsicle connoisseur

crayon nibbler. this is why i am not allowed on facebook or blogs unless she is snoozing.


It is easy for me to post about what a great Dad Habtamu is! The relationship he has with our kids is tender and solid. It is what I'd always imagined for my children, before the kids and before Habtamu entered my life. You've heard me say it: I'm living my dream come true! Woot-woot! The three of them are so delicious; it rocks that these little people and this man have helped me grow up, grow stronger, love life with purpose, even in the humbling stressful aspects of being a wife and mother. The father in this little family is totally present and 'represents'. Hey-ay! I am so content celebrating the father that is Habtamu, and make a day special for him with our children. But you know all that. As good as it is, and as tough as it can be, Hab's in it to win it for Father Of The Year. Word. (xo xo muah! love you lofah.)

Father's day is the obvious topic for the day, but i am having hesitations and a bit of a block. What I am stumbling over, resisting, is the less obvious post about the absence of my own father from my life. If I haven't told you in person, know I won't tell you now, the details of my parents' situation. But the short of it is, there was no father/daughter relationship. My Mom is an outstanding mother, supporter, trooper who has made her love for me known, tangible, and ever flowing. In the past I found it really annoying if people told me that having one parent is sad, or when they showed pity over my one-parent childhood. But that doesn't cast a shadow on my life up to now, it just lends me a new perspective. I didn't know what I was missing until my Lofah became a father.

It was my normal to have one parent. How hard it must have been for my Mom to do the child rearing on her own. She often tells me that she didn't have those overwhelming moments or feel she needed a break when she was raising me. She always tells me what joy came into her life with her 7th child. I wonder how Mom must have felt when I cried after watching a commercial with a Mom, Dad and Daughter. I remember telling her that it wasn't fair for people to make those kinds of commercials because that was not how every family was, some families just have Mom and Daughter (and 6 other siblings, who weren't part of my equation, since I sincerely believe all children have plenty of 'only child' sentiments). I remember one St John's hanging out in Cal u met, one of the girls talking about her Father's Day breakfast, or lunch, or supper--some sort of family gathering anyway. Father's Day was really low on my radar. Not quite ready to delve any deeper into my chest (that is where my body is reacting to my memory search at this very moment) to begin that chapter of processing an undernourished portion of my roots. There is some pain, at the point of confusion and shame that were mostly an unconscious undercurrent in the filter's of the child and young woman I once was. Normal life is very weird, when it gets dissected and inspected.

It isn't weird to be fired up for Father's Day in my present reality. Celebrate! The kids gave Habtamu a sweet card-- the kind with music when opened--"You Make Me Want To Shout! Lift my hands up and Shout!" Suvi is especially selective in her card choices. We all danced in the bed when Daddy opened his card. We skipped church, and Gram did too, and enjoyed a late breakfast together as a family: Dad, Mom, Son, Daughter, & Grandma!

W-A-Y-Z-A-T-A

Seriously, sometimes Habtamu is wigglier than the kids. The light was low as the sun was setting and I kept telling him to be still so I could take a photo... maybe I should have asked instead.

Last Friday we drove over to Wayzata Beach to get out of the house and into some fun. There is a nice playground there and I was hoping to walk past the fancy pants shops after playing. Theo decided to walk into the lake, where he fell, soaking his clothes. I didn't have much for a change of wardrobe, so he got a dry diaper, a t-shirt, and Suvi's sweater. We skipped the walk because Daddy's socks and shoes were bogged down after fishing Theo out of the lake.

I have this fascination with that area--we went there often when I was a younger girl, teen years and early twenties--and the wealth that surrounds it. How is it that some people are thrifty and cautious, and engineering when it comes to money. I am so into the broke mentality that when I have a huge tip day, we always go out to eat, instead of saving it for a rainy day. And how is it that the "career" choices I have made, where I seemed to feel comfortable, have landed me in a job that doesn't bring home the bacon? Money will motivate me to do things--i am thrilled to save big with sales and coupons, work a long day with the good service total. But there is a part of my brain that believes money is simply pretty green paper that floats in and out of our lives. Meanwhile, I'm just amazed at the price of dinner, tunics and hairdos by the lake.

I toured a beautiful salon next to the Wuollet bakery when I was in beauty school. It would have meant an apprenticeship before I became a stylist. The manager was so chilly and the atmosphere so severe (actually, the lighting was dim. hello? how can you see what you are doing?) that I could barely make it through the tour. My instructor recommended that I see the place, she was very supportive and gave me great confidence in my abilities. She wanted success for me. Honestly, it was intimidating--both the salon and the thought of financial success. I'd been receptioning at a nice salon before I started school, I already had a chair waiting for my graduation, it was fun and S.A.F.E. Interviews make me ill; after that safe salon closed and before I found MOE, I had to have a potty plan near any salon I interviewed. I'm not really sure where that backwards safety stems, but it is a part of me that I would like to improve. At this point in my life it is too scary to look for a different salon. The flexibility with my hours, the clean living salon owners, the nerdy camaraderie with Mark (birds of a feather--he's a clutter bug too), the economy (I'm so sick of 'the economy')... I would have to start over, and I don't know that a new salon would pay enough initially to make a change the better option. I love the salon, and I have some really great clients (a few of them would probably love it if I were operating a little Westerly), but our money is so tight. I feel responsible. I feel like I am not contributing like I should be. I always wonder if I should be doing ballyage in Wayzata for the rich, and wish-they-were-rich ladies. I wonder if my thought about suffering under the Wayzata pretenses was correct. I wonder where people over there driving past the lake, living in mansions, and mini-mansions, in Porshe SUV's, get all that dang money!? And why don't they drive it over to MOE and save a few bucks on their blonding!?

My husband is awesome and he usually knows what i need. He sent me this note first thing this morning:

Thought for the Day: “Happiness is a thing to be practiced, like the violin.”

Powerful manicure!

I don't know how people think of things like this! Imagine that getting your nails done could help a child to go to school, in a building, instead of under a tree. Awesome! I think sacrifice like this is admirable.

Phew/Yippii!

My Mom is home from Canada!!!!! It was a long week for me :)

North of Town

my brother's headstone


my grandparents markers are behind this stone



from the gravel road just west of the cemetery



Today was a great and happy day, my nephew Levi graduated from DCHS. I lived with my sister the summer of 1991 to be his babysitter. He was such a cutie pie then, and he still is, just much taller.

I stopped at our family graves on the way home. It had been a few years and I just needed to be there a moment. We don't make it to C o k a t o very often, and usually we are heading back home in the dark. It always pains me to see the plots with black dirt, or new grass, thinking of a family's loss and pain. There was another woman visiting the cemetery when I arrived--I couldn't see well enough to tell whether hers was a familiar face, but I felt like I should know her. As I was driving out, I noticed this marker of my sister's friend. A place for her family to remember her...obviously well tended. Lovely.
I cried when I reached my brother's grave. I was 6 when he died. I remember feeling bad that I didn't cry at his funeral. It took my Mom years to be able to talk about Jimmy, and we just don't discuss the details of his death. I won't here. I think about him often. When Theo was about 4 months old something about his nose reminded me of his uncle Jimmy. This made me very happy. Today my tears surprised me, and it was the kind of cry that starts with a lump in your throat. Becoming a mother really changes perspective, and I think some of the sorrow I felt today was for Mom, and her loss, since now I know how dear and deeply a mother loves her child.

Last year an old friend of Mom's lost her son, you may have known Betty H's boy was 22. In May Mom was able to visit with Betty for the first time since her son's passing (she was in town for another son's wedding :). It was a short conversation, but they were alone in a quiet room at church. It must have been good to talk to someone who understands that kind of loss and pain. That both son's were 22 when they left their Mamas... Well, it has been so difficult for my mom to process her grief, because it is so deep and raw. I think there was some peace for her--to share a few moments with a woman Mom has long admired, who has shown kindness (when often others have been distant), who has known this pain--in finally moving with her grief. I hope.

Yesterday my pedicure client mentioned a website she has for parents grieving a child. I meant to write it down, maybe to share with Mom if she'd be open to it. One thing Client mentioned from her web page is that people will ask about the circumstances of the death, and that it is usually really an awful question for the parent. She says that parents want to remember their child's life, and share happy memories. I wonder if it goes the same way for people who have lost parents? My Mom just had an experience with someone who said, "Aren't you the one who's son ...?" Mom said, "I don't like to talk about that now." He didn't stop. She felt horrid. People are total idiots sometimes. I like to remember my brother as the guy who gave his baby sister a can of oil for Christmas. She cried when she unwrapped that gift. Bawled. He quickly opened it, revealing the can was full of candy. All for her. Sweet memory.

Price is RIGHT!

I don't think it means I am hormonal if I cry when the engaged guy came on down and then wins the set of cell phones (but loses the trip to Scotland). Or when Ellen calls a girl to the stage who lost her job, car, house, and gives her all the money from that windy machine without turning it on. And if I thought my husband sounded snappish when I asked him if he knew where the night-time diapers are, not hormonal (so WHAT if it IS a weird question at 3:45 in the afternoon).

And maybe I did spend the last two mornings baking bread, pumpkin bread (double recipe) and oatmeal cookies. That doesn't hint of any kind of cyclical events in my life.

But finding another umbrella stroller for $2.99 and an I {heart} CLEAN TEETH coffee mug for $.79 is a magical feeling for anyone. It would make you tingle, wouldn't it? If the Price is Right?

Adoration

lunch at Gram's
Weeding with Gramma

Theo asked if Grandma is coming over today. To be fair, he asks almost every day. She is going out of town for a week, leaving tomorrow, which left me confident he would be seeing his dear Gram today. I dialed (press and hold 4), he talked. "Come over." That was his hello! Oh how he loves her. He's been waiting at the window for her to arrive...40 minutes. About 5 minutes ago he was calling out with hands up "Gramma, where ARE you?" She's here now and he and his sister are THRILLED!

It feels so good to see how they absolutely adore each other. Suvi takes a few minutes to warm up to people, except Gram. She gets instant love and attention. They are singing a song of six pence now...it is heart warming. And smile inspiring.

O.L.

Last evening the power went out, prompting us to walk to the park. Not long after we arrived a young couple--late teens perhaps 20--took their perch on the jungle gym. They were literally entwined there at the top of the slides, completely visible to us. They were very cheesey in their canoodling demonstration--like a perkier Twilight kind of infatuation. I was thinking they must have recently made their relationship more/most physical, or had made the decision to take it to that level in the VERY near future. Theo couldn't play there because these hormones in adult-like bodies (not adult like in any other way, except her purse, waiting at the bottom of the slide, was really for an older than her person) were hogging the equipment. Our kids were on the swings, but when we had decided to leave due to the uncomfortable atmosphere, Theo through a doozey tantrum because he didn't get to play for long. Then I put on my O.L. hat (Old Lady) and yelled to the snoggers, "Don't you have a car you can make out in so our kid can play?" Seriously. I have this hard line when it comes to disfavourable behaviours. The couple dismounted. Theo played on the slides. Suvi tried the toddler slide again, but she's still not in control of her limbs enough to make it down without getting shoes hung up on slide sides. (My baby. sigh:)) We decided to head back home, Theo was again resisting. In a louder than necessary voice I asked, "Are you going to stay here with the Love Birds? You might put a damper on their plans." What? Who is this O.L. and where did she come from? I was hoping to myself that Theo's tantrum would provide them some insight into the future, if their touchy-feelies got any touchy-feelier. And I laughed as I thought of how it is to be freshly in love, and how any moment together is so intense and how old I was, still making out in cars. Way too old to be considered too young to care.
Muah!