Cooking the History Books: The Thanksgiving Massacre

Cooking the History Books: The Thanksgiving Massacre

It is so important to know the difference between true and invented history.  I love a feast as much as all of us Americans, but I love people, too.  I hate to blindly celebrate something that spits in the face of a people who deserve our apologies and respect, as well as a lot of repayment for wrongs that will never be righted.  Take a couple of minutes to read this article (click link above) , if you will, and think about what our ancestors have done.  How can we keep the gratitude alive within us, remain aware of the truth, and observe the less than beautiful times in our history in appropriate ways?  This is not a rhetorical question.  I would love to hear from anyone who has a thought.

I am looking forward to a delicious meal and to spending precious time with family tomorrow, and I love the reminder of thankfulness that has been written into the name of this holiday, but there will be a certain sobriety about me as I hold an awareness of how the holiday came about, and the ways in which traditions have evolved.

Are you listening openly, really? Think again. (questioning myself)

Sometimes I am so foolishly sure that I know what I think about everything.  I also continue on with this idea that I am listening to others, and that I am considering their thoughts and ideas with an open mind and heart.  The trouble is, I think this, even while forgetting to open them (the rusted shut mind and heart).  I just keep thinking, " I'm so open minded", and "I'm a pretty good listener", while I forget to actively be those things.  Instead, I lock myself up, thinking about what I am sure that I KNOW.  I default to auto-listen and filter all information through my little soap box position.  Often I am wrong when I assume things about others, but it takes me a really long time to realize that what seem like very foreign philosophies are uncannily more similar to my own than I could have imagined.  Then I feel bad.  I feel bad for not listening with my whole self, for being too stuck, for being a know-it-all, for separating "me" and "you", or "us" and "them".  It is really good when someone points out in a very kind way, what a jerk I'm being, and that it would help if I'd listen and stop talking.  I get defensive and it causes a temporarily faltering in my ego (as well as a noisy and emotional debate).  I have to think, "maybe I don't look or sound so admirable", and "what if someone thinks I'm doing a terrible job at the things that I am trying to do best in life".  Then I start listening, reconsidering, learning, and remembering my humility.  Thank goodness.

There's the forest. 

I frequently miss it through all those trees.

Daddy loves his baby

Reya asks for this song to be sung to her at bedtime almost every night now.

Baby oh Baby,

Feign you are to sleep

Magpie and marpoke,

Busy  as a bee.

The little red calves

In the snug cow shed,

And the little brown birds are in the trees.

Daddy's gone a shearin' 

Down the castle Wray,

So we're all alone now,

Only you and me.

Home on the wool-o,

Keep your wide blades full-o.

Daddy loves his baby,

Parting though he be.

I start to feel sad for her, and wonder how traumatic this has been, and how much she does miss her Daddy, even though I know that I did what I had to do.  Just when I am in the thick of contemplation and misery, singing her this lullaby with mournful sweetness, her little voice bursts forth, "Mama, I pinch my cheek.  Reya so silly!".  Then I lighten up, and know that even though she misses Daddy, she is not thinking about it nearly as long and hard as I am.

Rain, rain, Yay yay yay!

I woke up this morning to heavy rain outside.  This has been the rainiest day yet, since I moved to Oregon, almost three weeks ago.  I lifted the blinds in delight, and held my camera up to the glass of my bedroom window, to capture a rather blurry rendition of the water cascading off of the roof gutter of a neighboring duplex.  Feeling watery and cozy, I decided to put off our usual immediate breakfast-upon-rising habit, and took a family shower/bath.  My sister gave us a big, baby tub.  She calls it a euro-tub.  It is designed to accommodate a growing baby into toddlerhood, with room for laying or sitting.  The first time I used it I was ready to chuck it, finding it to be too big to stand next to comfortably, and scarily deep for my little bambino.  I am in the habit of showering with the baby in the little plastic tub at my feet, within the shower tub, freeing up my mama hands to wash, while introducing baby to minimal shower spraying.  I find that they have almost no fear of water or spray, after bathing this way with me during infancy.  It is possible to begin this at about 2 1/2 months of age, when the neck  strength is enough to stabilize the baby in a slightly upright, but still reclined position.  My ex-partner would rarely hold Reya to give me time to bathe, when she was tiny, two years ago.   I came up with this method by pure necessity.

Magically, this morning's shower was wonderful.  The children were able to sit in the tub together and play.  I figured out how to adjust the drainage feature on it, so it didn't fill to deep for baby, and I managed better than I thought I could, in the approximately ten inches of space between the euro-tub and shower wall, under the shower head.  There is something to be said for a second try, a new day, and a patient attitude.

Lately, Reya has been enamored with looking at herself in the mirror.  She is quite dramatic, and admires herself openly. 

Coming from the standpoint of being a Waldorf Early Childhood teacher, this concerns me a little.  In Waldorf Kindergartens and Nurseries, mirrors are covered with cloths, to prevent the children from an early development of this ego.  They are better off with a slower "incarnation" into this type of consciousness.  Better to be less aware of the physical and of appearances, to stay innocent and dreamy.  Here is where theory and values butt up against convenience and function.  The mirrors function as doors to the closet, and cloths would get in the way.  Also, the mirrored doors help my tiny space feel larger.  They have a coldness about them, though.  I am leaning toward a smaller but warmer feeling space.  I might take down the doors and store them, and hang some curtains on a rod, instead.  It was kind of humorous to watch her doing her mirror play.  Then she got rambunctious and began running an crashing into the mirror with her dress pulled up, shouting at the top of her lungs, "Belly ButtonYay!".  If I took them down, I sure wouldn't miss the sound of those doors being continually rattled and messed with.  The question:  Where can they be stored?

Yesterday we went on an explore, and found a hole in a fence.  We were able to squeeze through, even wearing Galen on my chest in the Moby wrap.  We found ourselves in a pasture, with a grove of Weeping Willows!  What a lovely place to play, right next to home.  I'm loving to explore this wet, wild, green world.

This evening, Galen napped some more in the Moby wrap.  That thing has been my saving grace, and a literal pain in the body, all at the same time.  I am convinced that this sort of wrap is more comfortable than almost any other way to wear a baby, it keeps him safe from his mischevious, rival and zealous, toddler sister (except for dangling fingers and toes that sometimes get bit), and he sleeps very comfortably in it.  On the other hand, he is going on five months old, and getting heavier.  Ouch, wearing him almost full time is starting to wear on me.
Anyway, I wore him while he slept this evening, and Reya and I had fun baking.  This is the first baking project from scratch in our new home.  (Not to knock the yummy cake from a mix with Jenn last week, but it was from a MIX.)  Tonight we made muffins and sweet bread from butternut squash puree, sweetened with honey, and lumpy with the goodness of chopped pecans and chocolate chips.  I ate mine with cream cheese.  Delish.

My best friend!

This is my best friend.  She jumped into my heart when I was nine years old.  She is the most loyal person that I have ever known in all of my 36 years of this life, as well as the most honest.  I am so unspeakably happy to be back in Oregon, so that I can spend time with her more frequently.  I have a handful of really beautiful friendships with people scattered across the states. Some of them are growing to be vital to my existence and happiness,  but no others have endured for 27 years, or quite contain the depth to equal my friendship with this woman.

In and out of the hood

Yesterday we found a chalk board by the dumpster.  We took it home and washed it, and then Reya and I played while Galen slept.  So much fun! 

Today I walked North toward my favorite thrift store.

  My walk took me out of the more attractive surroundings of my immediate neighborhood, into the less beautiful W. 7'th and Garfield area.  The kids and I had a stroller full of thrifted goods. 

Here's what we saw.  This place is right next to the Salvation Army store. 

The sight of it made me hungry.  I'd like to try it sometime.  There's no money to eat out, but maybe someday.  Then, on the way home: 

Hmmm...That will probably bring a few shady folks nearby.  Then, a few blocks further. 

Yum.  I've always had a weakness for donuts.  In the same shopping center, I saw

Here is where I can take my sick sewing machine, if and when, again, I have any money to spare.  Another few blocks,

and this place is somewhere that Reya's grandparents would probably like to go, if they visit us, one day.  Soon we began to get into the neighborhood.  Someone down the block from me has some interesting bottle sculpture going on in their front yard- Eugene is so quirky.

Here is the creek, looking at it from the bridge. 

The places to the left are the condos I live in.  To the right is the path that people bike and walk on.
The leaves are BEAUTIOUS right now! 

Reya loves these-- what are they?  Rhododendrons, maybe?  And, this was the other day, actually, but I just have to show off the beautiful rain! Tonight I opened my window a few inches, while laying down with the kids, and the sounds are musical to my ears.  I have loved rain my entire life, probably because I grew up here.

When we returned from the walk, both children were miraculously asleep, so I got a tiny bit of unpacking done.  I got out a few nick-nacks and started my alter space on the top of a bookshelf in my bedroom.  It made such a difference for me.  This place is starting to feel like home!  The nap did wonders, and the children had a nice evening.  They are starting to play now, a little, since Galen is getting older.  He laughs, and thinks his sister is hilarious. She eats it up and gets sillier.  It is fun to watch!  The poor little guy is teething like crazy right now.  He has learned to grab things and get them into his mouth.  It is nice that he is starting to like toys.  Reya still has to get in the limelight.  She'll duck in front of him to get in the pictures I take.  He has revenge.  He knows how to pull hair!

Remembering

Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder where you are?
I remember my daughter, Luca Seaghul Glaser-Flynn, with love, fondness, sadness and gratitude, today on the anniversary of her death day, 12 years ago...Remembering her sweet, delicate fingers grazing my bosom as she suckled...Remembering her tiny face...Remembering the feeling of deepest love and deepest loss.

Mother of life, Mother of death,

Here is spirit so new,

That the gates of life and death are just an archway in her dancing ground.

She has danced her way back to you.

All done babe

"All done babe" says Reya, wanting to get out of her highchair.  It's so funny when kids come right back at you with things that you forgot you ever said to them.

Today was so much better.  I am relieved that the struggles I experienced over the last few days are not the reality of my every day.  I was starting to worry.  Today I spoke on the phone to my dear friend, Wind, and somehow, the very sound of her voice makes everything turn sunshiney.  I think she is an angel.  One of many that I know, and who have cared for me.  Thank you universe, for surrounding me with angels.

It's all stormy out.  I wonder what's in store for my new home environment.  The wind is blowin' like Colorado out there.  If it were Colorado, it would mean snow is on the way.  I don't think that will happen here, but it could be a nice surprise.  It was all warm today, like right before a storm.  Snow would be nostalgic for me, as is the wind, since in some ways, I miss old Fort Collins.  I love when I get fond of things that I never used to appreciate.  It's like it takes a while to break me in.  A random example: I disliked the band Radiohead, for the entirety of an 11 year marriage, and for some reason, I started to like them a year or so ago.  My former husband would be annoyed, maybe, since I complained about them being played so much, in his painting studio at night, in a part of every house we lived in.  I guess it takes awhile to lose the old negative associations, and just appreciate something for what is, with sentiment in the familiarity of it.  So now, apparently, I feel sentimental about blustery nights.  Funny.

Today my Dad and his wife Jenny sent a care package.  It made me happy.  When we opened the door to the UPS delivery man, Reya said, "Hi Man", and then "Thanks Man".  It's really cute, this new way she addresses men she doesn't know.  Big prize item inside the box- a laptop computer!  Woo hoo!  Little sweet items, like books for my babies, Organic food items, new towels, a cool bib for baby, and more.  Thanks, Dad and Jenny.  Big smile in my heart!

There is at least one blue heron that hangs out in the creek by my house.  It is so beautiful!  It has this amazing blue wingspan that is three or four feet across, and I love when it takes off and flies straight over the water, all low.  I have this love for birds lately. Every time I see the heron, I don't have my camera.  Hopefully I'll capture the image soon, but for now, here's someone else's photo of  a heron, from the web.

Feeling so peaceful tonight.  Tomorrow is the anniversary of my little baby daughter, Luca's death, twelve years ago.  It is nice to have come to a place where the grief has lost it's sharp edge, and I can remember my little bright light with bittersweetness, and gentle tears.

Red Tape

To sign up for classes I have to be issued an "L number".
To get an "L number" the admissions must finish processing my enrollment form.
In order for the admissions office to process my enrollment form, they must receive my official transcript.
In order for my transcript to be received, it must first be sent.
Before they send it, University of New Mexico must see ID verification on a form that was emailed to me.
In order to fill out the form, I must find a printer.
In order to return the printed form I must find a fax machine.
In order to do either of the above machine finding ventures, I must have transportation.
In order to set up transportation, I must connect my "kid cart to my bicycle by a little part that is in a box".
In order to connect the above two, I must unpack the part.
In order to unpack the part, I must find the box.
In order to find the box, I must lift and sort through many boxes.
In order to lift and sort boxes, I must not be carrying an infant.
In order for the above to happe, the infant must sleep.
In order for sleep to occur, the toddler must be quiet.
In order for quiet to occur, the toddler must sleep.
The toddler is not currently prone to sleeping.
This process could take weeks.
By then, other students will likely have signed up for and filled the classes I need.

UNM has NO CLUE how unreasonable it is to ask me for ID verification, G_D D_ _ _ IT!  The whole point of ordering the transcript online was to take care of it from HOME.

Cracked (in a rut) (or maybe a torture chamber)

I'm a little acorn nice and round.

I live a way down in the ground,

And everyone walks over me.

That is why I'm CRACKED you see.

I'm a nut (click tongue twice). In a rut (click tongue twice) 

 [repeat last line]

Ahem.  I don't know what happened today.  I thought things were nuts yesterday, but at least yesterday, we were outside most of the day, and after all that screaming, my daughter actually took a 30 minute nap.  I feel shell shocked after today  (like my pun?- hee hee :) ) .  I thought, "Well, since walking her to sleep yesterday was so hellish, and she screamed like crazy for an hour even in the stroller, and I need a nap like nothin' else, then I am just going to cut to the chase today, and insist that we all lay down together and sleep."

To start from the beginning...  She started the day crazy.  First thing this morning she woke up with, "No Galen!", and a fist in his face.  All he was doing was wiggling, kicking the air, and cooing, like any happy baby in the morning.  Then I got him on the changing table to deal with the wet, morning diaper, where he was smiling and cooing pleasantly.  Reya stood up on her tip-toes on the bed, bridging her body the 18 inches or so to the edge of the changing table, and sank her teeth into his little forehead.  I caught her and removed her before he cried too hard, letting her know that biting was going to get her in BIG trouble today.  After a breakfast of bear mush porridge and much screaming, because the whole entire pot was designated by her to be for her, with none allotted for her Mama, I actually let her finish my bowl as well, and settled on some Cascadian Farms, Organic, honey nut O's with raw goat milk for my morning meal.   Shortly thereafter, baby fell asleep for a little while, allowing for some individual Reya time, which she grooved on fully, taking out many toys and books, clothing and various other objects and trashing the house most fully in a record amount of time.  I allowed it, and sat and played with her and read to her, sensing that somehow she needed this, today.  After baby awoke, we played more and took pictures of him sitting on the couch, laughed about his big spit-up, and emailed some pictures to Dad with full toddler participation.

Suddenly she bit his little hand, while he was in my arms.  I immediately and wordlessly placed her in a bedroom with the door shut, and saw from the look on her face that she very correctly read the look on my face.  I nursed baby to sleep, as he finished crying, while ignoring her deafening (even through a closed door) screams of "Mama let me out...Mama I peed on the carpet... Mama I be gentle Galen's hand..., and bang bang bang on the door", since I knew Galen needed me more urgently right then.  This was one of the many moments daily, when one adult was not enough for two needy kids.

When he fell asleep, after just a few minutes, I took a deep breath, grabbed a clean-up rag and the bottle of Sri Racha hot sauce, then went to her with great calm. I opened the door, and said in a low, almost whisper, while looking down at the carpet, "is this where you peed?".  "Uh-huh" she she said back quietly.  "Okay, I'm cleaning it up", I said.  Then, pulled her onto my sitting lap, held her tight, kissed her teary face and said quietly, I have hot sauce for your mouth, since your teeth hurt Galen again".  "NOOOO", she cried, as I put a good tablespoon of the hot sauce into her drooly little mouth.  She panted and wiped her tongue against my shirt for maybe ten seconds, then said, "that feels better now- I want more".  She swiped the bottle from me, and sucked on it like a baby bottle of milk.  Is she human?  That much Sri Racha would be hard for me to handle all at once.

Just an hour or so later, she was playing and kissing with her little baby brother, and again, those evil little teeth went right into his upper lip, just under his nose.  I grabbed for some Melinda's habanero sauce this time, not even stopping to comfort baby, and shook a gob of it into her mouth, hissing matter of factly in my I'm-really-close-to-yelling voice, "no more biting- NO MORE!".  This time she actually cried from the heat, but only for a minute, then complained for a while, while I comfort nursed the baby, "I need sweet food ".  I was glad she had to suffer a little over it.

Lunch time came, and we dug into some pinto beans with green onions, cheddar cheese and corn chips, with carrots on the side.  She seemed to enjoy it and get full.  Somehow it had gotten late, and at 3PM I noticed I eye rubbing and yawning.  "Time for that no nonsense, lay-down, family nap", I thought.   Yeah right.  We lay in the dim room, blinds drawn until the sun went down- probably an hour and 45 minutes, with her screaming, kicking, climbing all over me, pushing painfully into me with elbows, chin, knees feet, forehead, you name it.  Eventually she began yelling about me not holding her there (I had her in a firm embrace), and letting her "do the nap myself".  Galen, who had cooperatively fallen asleep during the first two minutes of laying down, was awake and done napping.  He wanted to get up and was being vocal about it.  I told Reya I'd let her do it herself, and I'd be in the other room with Galen.  She was whining for a snack, so I let her eat a banana in bed, then left her there to "do it herself".  More screaming and door pounding.  25 minutes of it, to be exact.  She was hysterical and almost hyperventilating, when I decided to go back in, and told her,"hey- don't be so upset.  You're not on a time out.  You just need a sleep.  Please lay in bed."  "La-a-a-ay with me", she sobbed, in that hiccuping way that one talks when they have been crying way too hard.  This made me feel sympathetic.  "Okay", I said, lets try it again, together.  By now, baby was ready for another cat-nap, so he promptly fell asleep, while I offered a lullabye to Reya (for about the 9'th time that nap attempt period).  "Sing Belle Mama", she ordered, not very politely.  I did.  Halfway through, "No Belle Mama".  "Lets just be quiet now", I suggested.  Then the little bugger actually ordered me out of the room, with more of that do-it-myself nap bologne.  Now I was really irritated.  Baby woke up and wanted to nurse more, so I told her that I wasn't going anywhere, because I was nursing.  She began whining, "I'm peeing.  I need to go on the potty.  My diaper needs changed right NOW!"  I disrupted baby's nursing session to attend to this potty emergency, and then we were all starving, so I said it was time for dinner, and then a bath, and then back to bed.  Of course, I hadn't had time to cook a darn thing, so we had a comfort food meal of popcorn and mochi, because it was easy and I needed it, after all of that.  She loved that, and was happy for a while, spilling popcorn all over the kitchen floor.  She had another little (in comparison) fit about not wanting a bath, then ended up having fun, completely tearing apart my bath mitt, while I was off changing a diaper.  After we cleaned up all the particles of mitt from the tub with background noises of baby cries, she resisted her diaper with final efforts, tried to turn on the light a few times after I turned it off, and cried another 10 minutes.  She then actually said, "I love you", as she elbowed and kneed me, laying atop my body, and nuzzled into my neck.  I went off to blog off some steam, and wind down, and would you believe, she has woken up fitfully one more time, to have me lay down with her while I was typing this?   That is why it has taken me a looong time to tell this story.  But you can't tell that, since it is posted when it's posted.  Big exhale.

This is why I stay up too late, a lot.  It's the only time I am not getting all touched out by kids, and it is so perfectly quiet, which I need, and I have to do something like unpack or clean the kitchen, sometimes, which I did not prioritize over blog-venting tonight!