Like a Rolling Stone

     My house is a TOTAL mess.  There is a half chopped-up batch of kale on the counter, sitting on top of a cutting board that's sitting on top of a cookbook.  There's a similar pile on the stove that is framed by a pool of coconut milk that never made it to the pan.   Cheerios, peas, dried fruit and hardened pieces of rice stick to my feet as I walk through the dining room, all seconds from Wesley's tray this afternoon (I actually vacuumed earlier today).  There is a basket of folded clothes and a basket of unfolded clothes in the living room.  I am actually quite proud they are clean.  There are several sets of toys co-mingling on the rug and table in the living room.  Sesame Street friends are riding Noah's Ark and the train set is a train wreck dividing itself into several scenes of carnage over the living room rug.  There are board books, storybooks, and piano books sprawled out.  My guitar is laying on the coffee table.  I don't remember taking it out of its case.  I have dedicated a paper bag for accumulating the random junk I can't even describe succinctly.  The quarter-inch headphone adaptor.  The decorative scrapbook tape in two shades of orange.  The software CD I am not sure we need to keep or ever installed.  Ee gawds!  The paper bag of junk sits on the staircase next to the other (bigger) random items I will find a home for (eventually).
     I will not have a clean house when I wake up tomorrow morning.  No chance of that.  But I will have a beautiful memory of today.  Today we woke up to sunshine.  Today we played at E.C.F.E., then had lunch at the co-op with our friends and played outside.  We played OUTSIDE!  While the boys were napping, I caught up with one of my favorite comedians on Netflix.  I laughed.  Outloud.  When they woke up we played outside again.  Daddy walked home from work and joined us at the park.  Wesley used a baby swing for the first time and laughed and laughed!  William used a big kid swing for the first time and fell off twice.  He decided it would be fun to push Wesley in the baby swing and squealed with delight and fear when Wesley was close enough to push, and almost close enough to knock him down.  We felt sunshine on our face.  We came home and ate a curry dish (sans kale as I had planned).
    I left to get a haircut and found today's issue of Rolling Stone in the waiting lounge.  I picked it up because the comedian I was watching earlier (Louis C.K.) was on the cover.  When I opened it I found an interview with my former co-worker-turned-MSNBC-host Christ Hayes.  It was fun to read about Chris' adventurous and full life.  Then  turned the page and saw this: "The Fossil Fuel Resistance," an article by Bill McKibbon about the movement to stop the Keystone XL pipeline and climate change.  It was several pages long and talked about the many faces of the climate movement.  I liked the part about the angry mothers!
http://www.rollingstone.com/politics/news/the-fossil-fuel-resistance-20130411
     My house is really pretty disgusting, but our lives are rich and full of laughter, love and (finally) sunshine.  And, sometimes, a bit of adventure.  With a new haircut and a new appreciation for Rolling Stone, I am calling it a night.

Early morning addition:
     By a unexplainable self-imposed reverse-psychology miracle, after writing this blog I took an hour to clean up, wash dishes, rinse out the poopy diapers, and start a load of wash.  The energy to clean came from the acceptance of my lack of energy, and writing in gratitude for a great day.  Wonder if it would work again?

Pipeline Fighters--The Nebraska Story

     Some days I feel content to let the rhetorical question go unanswered: "What's it all for?"  The cute little feet I get to kiss and the giggles and coos are enough inspiration to keep going and do what needs to be done today.  But some days I hear a voice, a tug, a calling.  Then I know it's not enough to simply wash the dishes and call it a day.  I'm here, now, for some other reason.
     This week (ending tomorrow, Monday April 22), was the final week the State Department will hear testimony on the environmental impact statement for the proposed TransCanada pipeline (Keystone XL pipeline) from Alberta, Canada, to the Texas gulf shore.  Canada produces the most toxic oil in the world (full of sulfur) from the tar sands of Alberta.  Illegal to burn in the U.S. or Canada, Canada must ship it to China where air quality standards are lower.  Because Canadian and U.S. States on the West coast refuse to handle it, they want to pipe it down 1,000 miles through the heart of America to refineries in Oklahoma and Texas before sending it overseas.  It would travel through America's finest, largest aquifer and over Sand Hills that are highly permeable to oil.  The sludgy oil is mixed with something akin to paint thinner to help it travel.  When a pipe bursts, the oil and thinner seep into the ground.  After it makes its journey and is burned for energy (presumably in China) it would emit more carbon dioxide than any other type of oil.  It is an environmental disaster from top to bottom, but none of these concerns were raised in the environmental impact statement drafted by a company TransCanada itself hired to write it.
     The State Department was taking testimonies from citizens for a short 45 day period.  I knew I wanted to make a lot of noise, but I also needed to wash diapers and make supper.  I signed an online petition.  I still didn't feel right.  I washed diapers, made supper, and sent the online petition to everyone I knew who may or may not be sympathetic to encourage them to do the same.  I still didn't feel right.  I heard back from one friend who supported the Keystone XL pipeline.  I love him, but his argument that the Keystone pipeline will help oil producers in ND is wrong.  TransCanada wouldn't like to lose the income from the pipeline between Alberta and ND so will keep it full of Canadian oil.  I wrote him back and also defended my position that the CO2 emitted from the tar sands will be too much and our atmosphere cannot handle more than 350 parts per million if we are to survive.  I started other conversations and responded to other concerns via email.  I still didn't feel right.
    I found an email in my inbox.  "Join MN350 in Grand Island, Nebraska, to attend the State Department hearing!"  I googled Grand Island.  How could I justify dragging my kids 460 miles to sit in a hearing all day?  What about naps?  What about our routines and sleep schedule?  Winter Storm Yogi was headed for Nebraska at the exact same time, and would follow us home to Minnesota.  Wesley had a cold and William is going through an extra clingy stage.  It would be a disaster, I decided.
   But I still didn't feel right.  Then we went to worship at the Community of St. Martin and our friend Steve announced he would be taking a bus provided by MN350 Wednesday night and returning on the bus Thursday night.  At that moment, I knew I would go.  Zac says he knew, too.  I was so excited.
   I briefly let others talk me out of it, but then I let myself talk myself back into it.  When the spirit says "Move" you just gotta get goin'!  So, at 10:45 p.m. Wesley and I were in a bus headed for Nebraska. My mom came down to take care of William, who gave me a very enthusiastic, "Bye bye!" without a single wimper or complaint.  Wesley just looked around as if to say, "What in the world are we doing now?" (bottom right corner)

     At 8 a.m. we safely arrived in Grand Island in the middle of a blizzard.  We were told we could either get in an outside line and wait for a number to testify, or go inside and be a part of the support crowd and rally.  Wesley and I had been up since 6 and he was ready to take a nap.  I put him in his bunting and covered him with two wool quilts in his car seat and went out to take my place in the outside line hoping to get a number to testify.  We stood there for 2 hours, making lots of friends who at first didn't notice my pile of blankets was actually a baby.  I wore my warm down coat and someone brought me a "Pipeline Fighter" t-shirt to pull over it.  I like how it makes me look like I am the one with pipes.

     A very nice guy came down the line with thermoses of coffee, hot chocolate, and paper cups.  I told him, "You are my hero."  He said, "I don't know about that; I'm from the other side."  I said, "Let's be friends anyway."  He said, "Okay."  He is a welder, more about him later...

     We were reorganized into a longer line around 9:15 that stretched past all of the buildings that were blocking the 40 mph winds.  I made friends with people with an umbrella, and they used it to block the wind on my pile of blankets, er, baby.  Around 10:00 a security official was walking down the line and did a double take.  "Is that a BABY?"  She yanked me out of line and brought me inside, to the front of the line.  And that is how it came to be that I got a number to testify at the State Department Hearing.  Thank you, Wesley.  When he woke up (around 11:00) he was toasty warm, giggly, and charming as ever.  Thanks to a Narnia-like winter spell in Minnesota, he is extremely warm-blooded.

   Before we got through security I decided to head back to the indoor location where people were camped out to swap out the carseat for a baby backpack and fill my pockets with supplies.  Bags weren't allowed, so I stuffed diapers, wipes, Cheerios and my phone into my coat pockets.  When I got back to my place in line it was obvious that the baby (out of the carseat) was drawing attention.  A camera man followed us through security and joked with me after I was questioned about the contents of my pockets and flashed diapers to the security guards.  He said, "They're just making sure those aren't bombs--in case you were going to blow yourself up with your baby on your back."  He took several more pictures inside the auditorium as well after someone had put a Pipeline Fighter band on Wesley's head.  I admit, he looked pretty rogue and ready for a newspaper cover.  I saw the photographer's badge: "USA Today."  We checked the papers later, but between the explosions in Texas and the man-hunt in Massachusetts, the hearing didn't get much press.

Wesley the Pipeline Fighter!

     After listening to several testimonies, including all of the TransCanada voices (they all got really low numbers even though many of them arrived when I did), Wesley was ready for another break and I was ready for some food.  We went back to the next door building and listened to testimonies on a TV for awhile.  Eventually Wesley settled into a second nap and I did my best to get comfortable on a cement floor.  I hadn't slept on the bus-ride to Nebraska, so it was easy enough to drift off.  A tuba band interrupted my nap, though, so I decided to gather my thoughts and begin to write my testimony.  I worked on it all afternoon.  When Wesley woke up I asked a friendly stranger to hold him so I could keep re-writing it.  I had an energy surge that some call "flow."  I used scraps of paper and, eventually, for the final draft, the back of a sign that read, "Future Generations Are Watching."  The result was that, when I read my speech, the representatives from the State Department saw the sign on the back of my speech.  The stranger watching my baby was Carolyn, and she took an interest in me.  She brought me a fruit smoothie.  "You look like you need this."  I inhaled the smoothie and refilled the container with water over and over.  I felt energized.  I texted friends and family, "I'm #118!" and linked them into the live-stream.  Finally, it was time to head back to the main auditorium and wait there.

      While Wesley played, I got to know the elderly couple sharing our row.  They were in their 80's or 90's but I didn't ask.  They had arrived at 10---much too late to get a number to testify.  But they had stayed all day to listen.  It was after 6 and they hadn't eaten or moved from their seats.  They felt anxious to tell their story, and I listened as best as I could.  Francis Johnson was his name (didn't get hers).  In addition to a 50 ft. swath for the pipeline, TransCanada was going to build a pumping station within 1/2 mile of their house and two other houses, which is illegal.  Then TransCanada asked for more land to park their trucks while they worked on the project.  Francis asked if they could put the trucks by the pumping station, but TransCanada said they could not because it would ruin the SOD.  The thing that got Francis really upset, though, was that TransCanada was going to rip up his trees--a comfortable wind break and shade trees.  He asked if he would be compensated for the trees, many of them lesser-known species and old beautiful trees.  TransCanada said they would only compensate for loss of income and, since these trees could not be harvested for lumber, they were not valuable.  They could not even tell Francis what they would do with the trees.  How they were disposed of was not even in his control.  On top of this, TransCanada would not insure him against an oil spill after only 3 years.  Any damages to his property or loss in property value were to be his liability.  He was insulted for good reason.  I decided to bring some of these concerns forward in my testimony and jotted a few notes into my speech.  

     Wesley had just started crawling before this trip.  In the arena he was very pleased that the lighting cast shadows on the floor.  He chased his shadow around the floor of the arena for most of an hour.  I felt relaxed and happy as I picked him up to walk forward to the microphone facing a stage of very quiet, very pan-faced Washington officials.  Wesley would give me the calm I needed to present my testimony.  

          I don't have the final draft of what I said, and I don't have a video, but I found some scraps of it in my diaper bag.  It went something like this:

"My name is Andrea Olson and this is my youngest son, Wesley.  We drove here through a snowstorm from St. Paul, MN.  Since arriving I have talked to land owners who are going to be impacted by the pipeline." (I stumbled here, realizing I had very limited time. I told them about Francis.)  "But Wesley and I came here to talk about the environmental impact statement for the pipeline.  You are trying to decide if the pipeline is in the best interest of the American people, and I am here to say that it is absolutely NOT in the best interest of those Americans who, like Wesley, can not yet speak.  The environmental impact statement does not address the long-term consequences of burning the tar sands oil and emitting millions more tons of carbon dioxide into the atmosphere.  The Union of Concerned Scientists and the International Panel on Climate Change both state tell us we need to keep 80% of our oil reserves in the ground or face irreversible, horrific consequences.  Globally we are already experiencing the devastating effects of global warming in famine and disease and super storms.  Let's not push these problems onto the laps of our little ones.  This is our moment to change history, and this pipeline represents a point of departure and an opportunity for Secretary Kerry and President Obama to fulfill their campaign promises and make America a global leader in clean energy production.

     "I have great respect for the Union workers defending their jobs here today.  Honest and good-paying work is hard to find and harder to keep.  I have volunteered alongside Union workers knocking on thousands of doors for Sec. Kerry in 2004 and Pres. Obama in 2008 and 2012.  We told undecided voters that these candidates were on the side of working America.  We told them they would fight for the middle class.  Let's put Americans to work with sustainable employment creating a sustainable future.

    "When you make your decision, look into the eyes of my son, Wesley, and tell him that he is more valuable than excessive corporate profits.  Tell him the 'bull' stops here.  Tell him you did everything you could to secure his future.  Tell Wesley that he won't have to suffer because you saw the threat and you did everything you could--including stopping this pipeline--to ensure his freedom.  Tell him that the best is still to come.  Thank you."

    By the time I was reading the last paragraph the audience was on its feet behind me.  I felt an energy I've never felt in public speaking.  I was looking at the panelists, and they were smiling now, but I felt an enormous wave of love and energy carrying me from behind.  When I turned around I saw that everyone was cheering and some were even crying.  Carolyn came to me in tears, unable to say much more than, "Good job."  We took a lot of photos.  Wesley was the hero of the environmental movement for a 3 minute moment in Grand Island, Nebraska.  I felt so proud to be with him.  It finally felt "right."  Sometimes you have moments when you realize your whole life might be just for this one moment, and this was one of those.  Not that I want to die or anything!  But I know I said something important, however awkward and imperfect.  It was truth that was pestering me.  Truth drove me to Nebraska.  Truth brought me to the front of the line and put words in my mouth.  And, truth sometimes wins over people's hearts.  

Wesley is wondering, "Am I a celebrity now?"

     I could recount dozens of inspiring testimonies...I learned so much about the pipeline and the Nebraskan Cowboys and Indians who are working together to prevent it from happening.  Cowboys and Indians working together!  Hitchcock is rolling in his grave.  There is an Indian prophecy about a time when enemies come together to save Gaia, Mother Earth.  They think it is about this exact moment.  This pipeline is the tipping point for the planet.  We will decide to do nothing and die, or we will decide to change course and live.  It's easier to do nothing and follow the conventional ways of thinking dictated to us by multi-national corporations who have only share holders to answer to.  But to change and become open to new possibilities is to be fully human, participating in life whole-heartedly.  We have our own conscience to answer to.

     Speaking of that, I am going to divest from all oil companies immediately.  I hope as a nation we can end our addiction to oil and begin a new life and a new chapter.  Here is a great  42-minute movie about this movement Bill McKibbon calls the fossil fuel resistance: 

 http://act.350.org/signup/math-movie/?akid=3035.88239.KpfH_k&rd=1&t=4

     In the meantime, I desperately need to catch up on sleep.  We arrived home Friday morning to 8 inches of new snow and I hit the ground running with a band rehearsal Friday morning.  We had a full weekend of playing and partying (Sasha's bridal shower!  Fun date!)  I led worship at the CSM tonight and just haven't "let down" yet.  That might come soon.  I think I needed to write and process a little bit.  After my speech one of the State Department employees asked me for the written copy my written speech.  I eagerly handed it to her and she was very gracious.  I got the sense she was asking for it because she really wanted to share it.  Not having the speech to reflect on was a bit discombobulating, though.  I didn't remember anything afterwards.  It's coming back now.

     The welder who offered me coffee had a long, thoughtful conversation with a fellow MN350 pipeline fighter.  After my speech I saw him again.  He smiled.  I thought I shouldn't say anything because I feel like the papparazzi were swarming and it would be awkward (or it was just my imagination).  Later the MN350 guy who was talking to him would tell me they talked about welding and construction.  He said he used to be a redneck before he was an environmentalist.  (I would disagree and say he is still a redneck.  He looks just like Paul Bunyan.)  In any case, they related to each other in a very real way and the Union worker who came to the rally in support of the pipeline left the hearing contemplating his role in the larger picture.  I'd like to think we can all still be friends no matter what side of the issue we're on, but I hope that all my friends will consider their role in the future and take the path of resistance to fossil fuels.  Our kids deserve nothing less.

Winter Pajamas

Peek-a-boo, I see you!  Wesley probably thinks his name is "peek-a-boo" because William says this every time they see each other!

We keep hanging on to the winter pajamas.  Still pretty cold here.

Wesley is crawling backwards.  And teething, and learning so much!

William is playing "doctor" with Wesley.  He likes to help him feel better.

I am reading a book called "The Happiest Toddler on the Block" to try to understand the ups and downs of his inner world.  We have a lot of fun playing pretend.  Here he is pretending he is a baby in a crib.  "Waaaaaaa!"

Wesley is pretty pleased with himself that he can scoot around. 

If he ever gets bored all he needs is a piano fix.

Some days I feel like I accomplish nothing.  Here is a pile of folded laundry that is some evidence I accomplished something. :)  

And here is a chicken pot pie.  It was a labor of love and oh so yummy!  The last chicken from our chicken share went into this dish.  We are looking forward to getting more chickens this summer!

Sometimes Wesley finds himself in a pickle.  He gets upset he can't go forward yet and backs into lots of things.

William wanted to take a nap on his little trampoline.  He looked so sweet all curled up I had to take this photo!

Then I let Wesley wake him up!

If only we all woke up with a smile like his!

Winter persists.  Snow snow snow.  

It may be April but we are in the thick of winter.  We stopped shoveling our sidewalks to see if the snow would stop coming.  It hasn't worked.  So far.

My mom was on hand for a few days last week and will be back again soon!  I did a few presentations for E.C.F.E. classes on early childhood music and mom handled the homefront.  She enjoys tucking William in and reading to him.  He has some artwork on his wall now!  I am a slow decorator, but William's room is a little more personalized.

As I type this, William is mixing his paints into his glass of milk.  Our dining room table transitions from meal-time to arts and crafts table so often we sometimes blur the two.  The milk will make its way into a painting.  "I want purple for breakfast," William tells me.  If he could eat it, he would.

Yesterday when he woke up William told me he had a nice dream.  "The nice dinosaurs were playing with me."  Yikes!  Sounds like a nightmare to me.  His imagination is so rich and full of detail.  Random objects like a deck of cards, markers and, now, the paint jars, take on voices and have conversations.  "I'm blue, I'm blue.  Hi blue, nice to meet you.  Nya nya.  I see you!"  This is preceded by singing to them.  The paint jars are going back in the box.  "Bye, bye.  I was talking to the paint but they're gone.  I'm sad.  This is a boat crossing the lake!"  (He is using the paint box as a boat and sings "We are crossing the lake" to the tune of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star).  "We're here now!  We got an ouchy!"  (More singing).

Wesley is learning to communicate, too.  He smacks his lips together to signal he is hungry.  He uses his hands to communicate "all done" when he is done with snack-time.  He has made it clear he does not like to be spoon fed.  I'm trying my best to give him a balanced diet of finger-foods.  It involves a lot of cooked peas, carrots and corn, and fruit, but mostly a lot of Cheerios.  He eats mostly with his left hand.  I am curious to see which hand will be dominant!

The paint jars are still talking to each other to the tune of "The Wheels on the Bus."  I hope next time I write I can report we are playing outside without snowpants and looking for perennial blossoms.  Ha!

For the love of Cookie Monster

     Winter is dragging on, but luckily we've had plenty of distractions.  The first is of course Everett and all the excitement of a new cousin.  Grandpa Mike and Sherry came down to meet the little guy when he was one week old.

For a long time William was asking for a Cookie Monster doll.  Grandma Susan arrived one night with an Easter basket with Cookie Monster, Big Bird, and all the Sesame Street characters in small figurine form.  The soft, huggable Cookie Monster is his favorite.  Unfortunately, he threw it behind my parent's built-in washer and dryer Easter weekend.  I climbed on top of the washer and reached back for it.  It was further down than I bargained for and I went head-first behind the dryer.  I couldn't believe I was upside-down behind a dryer and started laughing hysterically, which made my arm muscles go limp until I was nearly eating dryer lint off the floor.  My mom came in and made a half-hearted attempt to pull me out.  I became concerned I might be upside-down for a long time, but my dad came, too, and with one giant tug from both of them they pulled me upright, Cookie Monster in hand.  I told William to not throw Cookie Monster behind the dryer again because I might not want to fall back there again.  He did, of course.  The next time Grandma was smart enough to use a vacuum hose.  

We love Cookie Monster.

William had a great time dying easter eggs but didn't have enough patience to wait for them to turn color.

Grandpa plays "airplane" with William.

Wesley loves to watch the birds out the window at Grandpa and Grandma's.  He also follows our dog, Maya, around their room with his eyes.  He will push your head out of the way if it's blocking his view of the dog.

Grandma is pretty interesting, too.  Especially her buttons.

Wesley is almost crawling now, which means he is crying and frustrated all the time from going backwards.  He can sit up by himself so it's only a matter of days now...Looking forward to less complaints but not looking forward to finding where I need to baby-proof!

William was gifted a power wheeler, which we call his "tractor."  He can't ride his tractor very far, though, because there is still too much ice and snow.  Good thing.  He will go far in it!

With grandparents at home to babysit, I went into Alexandria to spend a night with my cousins and brother--funn(i)est people ever!  From the left--Eric Sorum, Sarah Files, Naomi Files, Erica Polensky

The next morning was Easter.  William watched Grandpa put on his tie and asked him what it was.   Grandpa showed him a little bow-tie he wore as a little boy, which William then wore and did not want to take off all day.

Uncle Eric 

Wesley and William's great-grandparents, Dean and Carol Sorum, came down from Moorhead for Easter day.  They enjoyed holding Wesley and said they didn't even recognize him from a few months ago.  It's so wonderful to share my kids with my lovely grandparents.  We missed them this winter!

Zac was in Missouri golfing with his dad all weekend so I was extra happy for the help with the kids.   Even so, I am still very tired.  Every day I feel like I get more behind housework and have fewer minutes to make dinner.  However, I can report that we've read dozens of books today, and we've been playing with cars, farm animals, peek-a-boo, and singing lots of songs (mostly improvised).  Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by everything I haven't done (get the diapers from the dryer, vacuum, clean the kitchen...) but that's about when I decide to write in my blog and think about everything with a new perspective.  In the big picture, we're doing a lot!