I get by with a little help

     This week was initially hard for me.  The sub-zero temps don't normally keep me indoors (I have the best all-terrain stroller on the planet), but the bitter wind, sub-zero temperatures and a mitten strike kept us indoors.  On Mondays we usually go to Tot Time at the Rec Center and on Tuesdays we usually go to Sara's Stories at the Red Balloon Bookshop.  We skipped both.  By Tuesday night I was going a little batty, having not seen other adult humans and listening to a long list of complaints ("I not like this!" from William, "My teeth hurt!" from Wesley) for too many days.  Our friend Christine from the Community of St. Martin came to my rescue Tuesday night, allowing me a little conversation with someone who is not packing the willpower of a draft horse into a two-year-old body.  She also played ball and read to William, allowing me a little rest while Wesley napped in the early evening.  Wednesday was survived through the help of our friends Sasha and Pete who lent us their extra car for Zac to drive to work.  The high on Wednesday was 1 degree Fahrenheit, so I was grateful to be able to drive to our friends house for a playdate.  Emery and William played all morning long and Wesley decided to learn to sit up on their hard wood floor.  He only fell over once, and hasn't fallen over since!  Emery's mom, Annie, is a perfect comrade during these long cold winter days full of two-year-old melt-downs.  On one hand, we can share a sense of humor about the two-year-old stage, and on the other, we can also share in our amazement and enjoyment of our boys' developing personalities and interests.  William has started an African Dance and Drumming class and, within two weeks, already picked up how to hold the drum (tilted so the sound comes out) and plays using many different kinds of tones.  He usually sings while he plays.  I haven't actively instructed him on this, but his observations of the class were enough for him to pick this up at home.  
    Even after a fun morning playing with friends, I was more than excited to leave the house with Zac to go hear Bill McKibbon speak at the University of St. Thomas Wednesday evening (made possible by babysitter Grandma Susan!)  If you haven't heard of 350.org or Bill McKibbon, I invite you to learn more and get involved in the movement to reduce the greenhouse gases in our atmosphere and stop climate change.  It will be impossible for human life to exist on this planet if we continue to burn as much fossil fuel as we are planning to.  If the Keystone Pipeline is built from Canada (where there is 7 times as much oil as the Middle East), it will be global suicide.  But, of course, there is a lot of interest in producing oil on this continent and pushing the inevitable transition from fossil fuels to another generation who will also be dealing with all the natural disasters and disease climate change will bring.  One psychologist from UST, Dr. Elise Amel, said the global climate crisis is not an environmental problem, it's a human psychology problem.  If we were rational beings, we would of course stop doing behaviors that were self-damaging.  But we are not rational beings and it is very difficult to change our behavior, even when all the evidence suggests our behavior will lead to the extinction of our species.  Heavy stuff, but I left also feeling inspired and revitalized by all the energy in the room and the humor of all the presenters.  There is a global movement ready to make this transition and make the sacrifices necessary to preserve our planet, but the work is still ahead to win the hearts and minds of the people who still are oblivious or nonchalant (which is maybe more dangerous than ignorance).
     Thursday we were back in routine, heading to our E.C.F.E. (Early Childhood Family Education) class.  By the time we were home for lunch-time I was more than relieved to see Grandma #2 (my mom Ann) in the driveway, ready for two days of grandkid time.  I enjoyed a full morning of running errands Friday without kids in tow.  I know my life is different because, when I am at Target without kids I think to myself, "Wow, this is amazing."  I have never had this experience in Target before.  Friday afternoon I had a little rehearsal for an upcoming gig and Friday night I enjoyed Happy Hour with my friend, Diane, who introduced me to one of the best things I have ever eaten--Figgy Pudding.  I have been longing for it ever since.
     This weekend we are out on the town--visiting the Minneapolis Institute of Art and IKEA--two great institutions of high culture.  I am sick to my stomach from a hot dog whose only virtue was being $.50.  We spent Friday night eating pizza and playing music with Sasha and Pete, who are planning their May wedding.  Wesley and I had a great time at the bridal shower for the beautiful Sasha Saturday afternoon.  This morning (Sunday), Mom and Dad and both kids are enjoying a relaxing morning in pajamas, listening to a soundtrack of William's play-chatter and high-pitched singing.  At some point Zac will need to work on another project he is doing on a contract basis, I will need to finish writing my Shared Word for the Community of St. Martin tonight, and we might all need to get dressed.  But Sundays are meant to be unproductive and all that can wait.  Zac and William are headed outside to play in the snow.
     I had a hard time this week, but I made it with the help of a large community of people who care about us and help.  Thank you.  I'll leave you with a Native American saying meteorologist Paul Douglas shared with us Wednesday night:

   "We did not inherit the Earth from our ancestors, we are borrowing it from our children."  (Thanks, kids!)

Wesley is a different baby now he can sit up!  So much more to see from above ground level!

William likes to play games with Wesley.  In this game he covers him with a blanket and plays peek-a-boo, usually rolling on the floor with him. Wesley squeals with delight.  I like this picture because it is an honest picture of how our house usually looks, but in a real flattering light with my Valentine roses on display!

T.G.F.G.!

Laundry Day

Look who got his first tooth! (Feb. 13)

A new runway look. 

Eric came to watch the State of the Union address with us.  We really liked the part about affordable preschool and stopping climate change!

This is a classic look for William.

Making blueberry muffins.  William is quite skilled at measuring and mixing.

This is one week's worth of laundry.  In this pile are:

14 little washcloths

19 bibs

29 little socks (14 1/2 pairs?)

2 armfuls of rags

3 sets of sheets (one queen, one twin, one crib)

a lot of clothes

Nighty night.

A morning with the Olson Boys

    I wake up to a small thud.  Two little feet are hitting the floor.  I hear them shuffle, open the bedroom door and find their way to our hardwood bedroom floor.  "Mama, I wanna snuddle wiff you."  William is by my side with one fell swoop, yanking my blankets up to his chin and nestling into my shoulder.  But not for long.  He isn't in a mood to snuggle.  He's here to wrestle us awake.  Both Zac and I are steam-rolled several times.  Finally I open my eyes.  "Mama, I luff you!  Let's go downstairs!"  In a few minutes, I will be asleep again.  Zac takes William downstairs, thankfully.  I enjoy another half hour of Z's.  I'll wake up with Wesley.
    I love the sound of Wesley waking up.  If you made a "kuh" sound through your nose you might imitate the first sound.  It is followed by the most beautiful "gooooo" which always ends in buzzing lips filled with spit.  Next is silence.  He is scratching at his sheets, already exploring and grabbing for anything to wonder at.  Then a little whimper.  By that time I am at his crib ready to receive the biggest smile you could ever expect from such a little face.  His eyes are wide open, bright.  He kicks his legs, squeals, and if I added just a little pixie dust I'm sure he would float right up out of his crib.  His head jerks around as I pick him up.  There is so much to see.
    The first thing he wants to look at is his mobile, hanging where he expected it to be, over his changing table.  He jerks his head around to keep staring at it as I sit down on the chair to nurse.  After he is satisfied the mobile is still in its place and as interesting as ever, he focuses on my face.  Looking involves reaching.  A big sigh of relief, Mommy is still here, too.  He grabs my lower lip and pulls it towards him with a loud "Ahhhhh!!!"  His eyes are so wide I think "How is it possible to not blink for this long?"  I talk to him and let him pull on my hair, squeeze my nose and nuzzle his soft head into my neck.  Then he dives for my chest, makes a pig-like grunt and pulls on my shirt.  I don't need any more hints.
    We get down to the business of nursing, but he is still wide-eyed, reaching his free arm up and up towards whatever it can find to grab onto.  Usually a piece of my long hair.  Sometimes my shirt.  Sometimes thin air.  His chubby fingers are so little, so soft.  I can't resist kissing them and holding them with my free hand.  They intuitively wrap around my thumb.  He pulls on the thumb like that might be the milk lever.  "More, please!  I'm starving!"
   He keeps staring at me while he nurses like he has been on such a long journey and so surprised to be back here, where it is familiar again.  I wish I could ask him about his dreams.  Why are you so amazed to see your mobile and me every morning?  Where did you go?  I smile at him and he giggles, letting milk drip down his chin and neck.  I can't resist bending over to tell him, "Du du du," which sends him into a gale of laughter.  For a moment he isn't nursing at all, just enjoying the joke.  He doesn't forget about nursing, though, and is back to business as soon as possible, still staring, still reaching.  I didn't sleep well (again) and haven't had coffee yet so I can't fully appreciate how wonderful this morning is already.  It takes a mid-morning sprint to the computer to write it all down and realize, "Wow, I have the greatest two little alarm clocks in the whole wide world."

At last!  I can taste Ducky!

But maybe the puppy's my favorite....

Oh, I can't decide.  This cow has great udders.

I just wanna eat you all!  Mwah wah wwah....

Seeing White

Aloha!  The winter is heating up.  We had a nice snow storm over the weekend.  Sunday afternoon Zac and William went sledding down the sidewalk by our house.  A perfect little two-year-old sledding hill.

Our backyard is not usually this beautiful.

Zac got quite a workout!

Monday is Open Gym at the Jimmy Lee Rec Center, only a three-block hike through snowpiles for us! William ran around with this basketball for 1 1/2 hours and collapsed into snowbank after snowbank on the way home.  "I so dired."

He doesn't know it yet but Daddy is planning to take him to a Timberwolves game next week!  He's a good shot.

Wesley is smiling after he figured out he can jump in his jumper (it was just a big stimulation center before).

Who can resist kissing those cheeks?

William insisted I take these pictures.  "I hold Wessie.  You take pictures, 'k?"

Here he is hard at play.  All the animals must eat and sleep many times a day.  Even the polar bear lives in the barn.

Well, until my camera is again full of more memories--aloha!

Smartphones and Chai Tea Lattes--the dreams of our ancestors

     It has bothered me for awhile that most preteens own a fancier phone than I do.  "Bothered" may also be another word for "irritated."  How do those kids afford the monthly data charges?  *sigh*  I can imagine all sorts of reasons why I should own a smartphone.  I would take more pictures with a good camera at the ready.  I would post those pictures more often and share my life with our family and friends.  I could organize our calendar, keep on top of emails, do facetime and do everything I ever dreamed of doing anytime, anywhere.  My life would be stress-free!  ; )
     I justify other purchases with the thinking that "I deserve this," too.  I definitely deserved that chai tea latte last week.  I deserved the second and third one, too.  I'm pretty sure I deserve chai tea lattes every day for the rest of my life.  I am trying to figure out how I came to believe this.  Only two generations ago my grandparents would splurge on melted brown sugar and cream on fresh-baked homemade bread.   Now for me to splurge it needs to involve overpriced frothed milk.  When I think about it, I really deserve a vacation to a warm beach, too.  I believe this so much that when I get a Groupon for a Caribbean vacation for only $300 I actually click on it, thinking maybe it is in the cards for me at this low price.  Airfare and taxes are of course not included.  Then reality sets in.  We are doing well providing for our family but we don't have disposable income.  Why then do I believe I "deserve" to live like I do?
     I think somewhere along the way our American dream exploded into a non-reality.  Whereas immigrants come to this country hoping to work hard and make an honest living and provide better educational opportunities for their children, third generation Americans (like myself) think, "Where should I go out for lunch?"  It is really hard for me to break away from that mindset, so ingrained it is (*Yoda voice*).  Indulge, treat yourself, be good to yourself.  Nice advice, but in practice what does that really do for me, for the world?  I drink more chai calories, dump a piece of paper tree cup and plastic petroleum lid into the ground to decompose over millennia.  And I'm not happier.  I still hear myself say, "That was nice.  I should get a pedicure."
     Next time I hear the advice, "Do something for yourself" I think I will take it as a reminder that, instead of heading for Starbucks, I need to take some deep breaths, be present in the moment, and maybe get a babysitter if I need to.  Then I can ask myself what it really is I need.  I can acknowledge what I want is a chai tea latte, and maybe that would be a good thing to drink.  But what I need is peace of mind.  If I can have peace of mind, then I will be content.  The chai is just something I've decided to enjoy.  It's not something I deserve.  The Earth deserves for me to bring my own mug.  My body deserves a walk to the coffee shop.  I will enjoy the chai, but it won't change me.  A smartphone would not change me, either.  Only I can change me.  If I want to, that is!
   
P.S. Zac gave two-year-old William $3 yesterday.  It was the first time he had any money of his own.  I asked him what he wanted to buy with it.  Unaware of his options, William boldly exclaimed, "Diapers!"  Maybe the fourth generation will be more practical?

 That's me--cornhusk mom.  So many days I wonder, "What did I do yesterday?" and I can't honestly answer myself.  I sip more coffee, really hunch down and think...ahhh yes.  It's a foggy memory.  So much has happened since yesterday.  My little cornhusk brain is mostly full of cornhusk hair and my memory is fairly thin.  Now, with the help of a few electronics, I can hopefully store up a few more memories.  My beautiful boys--William (age 2) and Wesley (age 6 months) will be the focus of this blog, but you may occasionally find me baring my naked soul to the reading audience and you may think, "Wow, that was so insightful."  That's the plan, anyway.

January 14--Wesley first rolled over on his own.  He hasn't done it since (almost a month later).

"Boppa" takes immense pleasure in reading to his boys.  With both on his lap he was almost giddy.  I couldn't resist taking a picture.

What a perfect surprise!  Grandma Susan moved back from Arizona to come play with us!  Even if Santa Claus was real he could not bring so much joy.

The first roll under his belt, Wesley focuses his attention on learning to sit up by himself.  Our hardwood floor does drive home the importance of good balance so I hide him from that reality with many wonderful props (still making use of that 'ol Boppy pillow).  

Grandma Sorum does the swaddle trick to soothe a grumpy baby.  We are so lucky she visits often and soothes Mommy, too, with hugs, homemade food and lots of encouragement.  You'd think I was training for a marathon the way my parents cheer me on.

It's Saturday morning and you know what that means.  Bluegrass music and waffles--a natural combination.  William mixes the batter and Zac and Wesley jam out.  You can see the sun coming in through the kitchen window.  I am glad we don't know the horrible-ness the next day will bring.

Daddy is home from the hospital!  He had corneal abrasions on both eyes and needed to stay overnight Sunday to manage the pain.  When I took these pictures on Wednesday he was still dilated from his eyedrops and shielded himself from the flash with baby cuteness.

The Olson Boys!  This blog's for you!  

This cornhusk Mom is tired from a long day.  We had fun at Aubray (Zac's sister) and Dan Erhardt's house tonight.  Zac's mom Susan made us a Thanksgiving meal feast (fyi it tastes just as good in February) and we got to see all the great decorations, toys and books Aubray and Dan have in their nursery.  Aubray is already 35 weeks pregnant with our little cousin.  We are bracing ourselves for more and more cuteness and, soon, lots of crazy fun with three little boys running around!

I thought for a long time about what this blog would be before starting it.  I thought about writing about any of the topics I'm most passionate about--parenting, teaching, making music, preserving our world for the future generations...  In the end I realized all of those things circle around what is central to my life now--my time with my kids.  I will always be passionate about all those things and I will always have a life outside of being a mom, but William and Wesley are the fuel to that fire and best reason I have to do everything else I do.  It is my greatest joy and blessing to be their mom.  Thank you for reading this and sharing the memories.