gratitude for what has been

Goodbye, Colorado… I’ll miss so much about you…

I will miss the mountains, and the energy they impart into the landscape, and into the people living near them. For ten years I’ve lived in Boulder, a unique little city nestled in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. At some point during each day, I’ve found myself gazing toward the western horizon, drinking in the view of those mountains, and every time I’ve looked at them, often without even thinking about it, I’ve taken a deeper breath. Now, as we move our little family from those majestic Rockies toward the ocean, I’m hoping that looking eastward, toward the sea, will give me that same unconscious nudge to pause, take a long, deep drink of the ocean-soaked air, and be grateful for it. I think it will. Goodbye, Rocky Mountains! Thank you for all the lessons you’ve taught me, for inviting me to hike along so many dusty trails amidst red rocks and silvery sagebrush, butterscotch-scented pine trees, and mountain wildflowers. Sigh. I will miss those hikes.

I will miss our beloved Boulder Creek, and the paths we’ve followed along it, all over town. I will miss sitting by the creek outside the library on hot, hot, sunny summer days, watching my boys wade around in the chilly water, dig in the mud, fill buckets with pebbles, stones, and mud, and rest in the welcome shade of the trees growing nearby. When I first moved from the East Coast to Colorado, I was a bit concerned about the lack of proximity to the coast, and wondered how I would manage without that water energy close by. Soon, however, I discovered the magical effects of this lovely creek, an almost-constantly moving source of water… the glacial ice and snow melts, rushing down the mountains, flowing through town, clearing the energy as it moves. In the warmer months, the cold water cools the air around the creek as it flows, creating the perfect respite from the intense sun, which can feel a bit punishing, sometimes, at a higher altitude. Boulder would not be the amazing place it is, I don’t think, without this creek, and the impressive network of paths –and inviting resting places– that run alongside it. Goodbye, Boulder Creek! Thank you.

Most of all, I will miss the people. The amazing, inspired, inspiring, conscious, creative, loving, kind and generous people that I have been fortunate enough to know and love, and have in my life, during the decade I lived in Boulder. Too numerous to mention individually, they know who they are, and they know how grateful I am to have had the opportunity to be in relationship with each of them. They have taught me so much: to slow down, and notice; to feel, deeply; to open up my heart and let the world in, even though it hurts, and even though it’s scary; to look within, and excavate that which no longer serves me, and figure out how to let it go, and keep letting go, and letting go, over and over, until I’ve started to become healthy, and so much more authentic than I ever was before. I have learned so much from my friends and family, teachers, co-teachers, midwives, and energy workers over these years I’ve been living “out West.” And I am still learning, still excavating, still being reminded, daily, to breathe and let go, breathe… and let go. I will miss all of these beloved people. They really know how to live, to embrace life in all its gifts and suffering, to not just float through their days, inattentive and busy. I appreciate that about so many people I’ve known in Colorado — some born there, but most brought there by choice, by their desire to plant themselves intentionally in that rocky soil… and bloom!

In particular, I will miss “my Naropa people,” some of whom have already blazed trails away from Boulder, and all of whom know how to breathe consciously, bear witness, hold space, laugh and cry simultaneously –even gracefully– and, perhaps most importantly, give the best hugs. (My husband loves to joke about what he calls my “Naropa –ahhh– hugs,” which are long, soulful, and punctuated by deep, satisfied sighs. Ahhh… love.)

And I will so miss my mama friends, whose presence, guidance, and support I have been so very blessed with during these early years of being a mother. These women are so honest, so brave, loving, and funny, and so, so devoted to their little ones… their children are blessed to be in the care of such compassionate, generous, intelligent and self-aware women. Mamas, I am honored to have had the privilege to mother alongside of you, to watch our babies explore and play, and (so quickly!) grow into such unique, strong, sensitive little people. Dear friends, I will miss you each, so very, very much. Thank you. Thank you.

I moved out to Boulder, to attend graduate school at Naropa University, ten years ago this May, in my 1986 Oldsmobile, packed full of all my worldly belongings… and now I’m moving back east, to a place a few hours north of my birthplace, with a much more reliable car, (and with a whole moving truck full of furniture and “stuff”!) and one dear husband, two small, beloved children, and two dogs. Boulder has been good to me, and my cup surely runneth over. Onward, Eastward… my boys and I are off! (Yes, we’re really doing this!) Please visit us in Maine, by the enchanted sea, and the elf- and gnome-laden woods! You’re always welcome. Farewell, my friends… the circle is open, but unbroken. Merry we’ve met, merry part, and merry may we meet again!

four!

My first baby turned four years old last week!

Four is big. Much celebrating was in order, of course.

We had a little party for him, with some dear friends and a few members of our family. There was some playtime, chatting, eating, and birthday party-style merrymaking… and then we gathered together for a special birthday circle.

We sang our Hello Everybody song to start our circle, and I told Isaiah’s Birthday Story.

“Once upon a time, about four years and nine months ago, there was a beautiful little star in the sky…and this little star decided he would like to be born on Earth…”

This story tells briefly and simply of Isaiah’s journey into his body, his birth into our family, and then highlights some of the milestones of each of the years he’s been here on Earth with us. This year I mentioned things like… when Isaiah was a baby, we used baby sign language to communicate with him, and he knew more than thirty signs! He was always very curious and inquisitive, and after he turned one and started to speak with words, he was often pointing at things and saying, “that!?!” to ask what things were called. When Isaiah was about 18 months old, he used to strum his ukelele and sing, from beginning to end, his favorite songs, which were “Baa Baa Black Sheep,” and “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” When he was two, Isaiah discovered that he loved playing dress-up… and when he turned three, he had just become a Big Brother! His little brother Quinn is very lucky, because Isaiah is very kind, gentle, and patient with him, even when Quinn does things that are frustrating!

We’ve told some version of this story on each of his birthdays, and it feels like a lovely way to mark the importance of our sweet, sensitive, intelligent little boy’s life, and his specialness, his uniqueness, as Isaiah Joseph DelaTerre.

After the story, we invited Isaiah to walk around “the sun” in the middle of the circle, four times, because he has been on the earth, rotating around the sun, for four years now!

Four times around the sun...

Isaiah went around the sun on his Papa’s shoulders, as he felt shy about walking by himself. I had planned to make a larger wool “Earth” ball for Isaiah to hold, but since that project didn’t happen, he held a little chocolate Earth ball instead, borrowed from the party favors. (He asked if he could eat it first.)

Our sweet friend Mayla, holding the candle representing the sun.

Then, it was time to share the birthday cupcakes! Earlier, Isaiah helped me make them: “strawberry, because I love strawberries!”

Isaiah fell asleep that night (way past his bedtime!) reminiscing about his fun party, and marveling that he would wake up in the morning (his actual birthday) and be a whole year older than he was that night… The next morning, Isaiah woke to discover a few presents waiting for him…

Our dear friend Rachel made the beautiful gnome for Isaiah. I made his new crown with wool felt, edged with ribbon.

After some playtime with his new toys, we all had another strawberry cupcake, of course, for breakfast. (Well, first breakfast, that is. Second breakfast had a bit more protein.) Then we visited Isaiah’s grandmother, “Babi,” and headed into Denver to visit the aquarium. We had a fun afternoon checking out all of the interesting sea creatures, and also watching the  tigers eat their lunch! (Yes, they have tigers at the Denver Aquarium!)

After his birthday celebrations were over, Isaiah said, “my birthday was great!”

And it really was.

His Papa and I have both noticed something else that is great too — in this first week of Isaiah’s four-year-old-ness, we’ve been delighted and amazed to observe that Isaiah has completely stepped up, into his new Big Boy status, quite naturally and proudly, pretty immediately upon turning four! He is noticeably braver, and quite a bit more sure of himself, more secure in his being. This last year has been challenging for Isaiah, in many ways and for various reasons, and it seems that, in leaving behind “being three,” he has been able to let go of some heavier energy that hasn’t been serving him. He’s much lighter in his mood, yet also more grounded; more mature, yet also more carefree; and so very proud of being four years old! His Papa and I are so happy for him, for his ever-deepening sense of self, and for his continually inspiring, fresh approach to the adventure of each new day. We’re so very grateful that this beautiful little shining star decided to come into our family, and we’re looking forward to all of the new adventures that will surely come with “being four!”

Playsilks!

A few days ago we had some friends over to dye playsilks. Such a fun project! Very easy, and the color transformation was quite magical to behold. If you have not yet heard of playsilks, they are a lovely, simple, open-ended creative toy, appropriate for all ages, from babies to big kids. You’ll find a rainbow array of them, I’m pretty sure, in any Waldorf classroom. (And now in our home too!)

We’ve had one green playsilk since Isaiah was about 18 months old, and he plays with it almost every day, in so many ways… often it is his “Super Isaiah!” cape, but it also finds it’s way into various other costumes, as a skirt, headscarf, belt, sling…. it’s also been a doll blanket, a carrier of wooden vegetables from here to there, a backdrop for our nature table, and, in recent months, a peek-a-boo cloth for playing with Quinn. I’ve been wanting to expand the playsilk collection beyond just the one, but they are, I think, pretty expensive if you buy them pre-dyed at the toy store. So, I did some research online for instructions (of which there are many!), ordered a stack of more reasonably priced white silks from Dharma Trading Co, and planned a playsilk dying playdate!

If you’d like to try this at home, here’s what you’ll need:

• an assortment of scarves in whatever sizes you’d like (we used 30×30 inch ones)
• a few stainless steel or glass pots or bowls
• a couple of large metal spoons and/or tongs for stirring
• distilled white vinegar (to help the color set, though some instructions say you don’t need it)
• a whole lot of Kool-Aid (we used about three packets of the same color per silk)
• (optionally, you can use food coloring, about 20 or more drops per silk; we used this for blue, as we couldn’t find a blue Kool-Aid)

First we soaked the silks in a big bowl of hot water, with about 1/4 cup of vinegar added. They soaked in there for 15 minutes or more, depending on how sidetracked we got. Then, in another pot, we put about 5 or 6 cups of hot (but not boiling) water, with more vinegar (again about 1/4 cup). We added three packets of one color of Kool-Aid, and mixed until it was dissolved.

We placed one silk in this pot, and swirled it around until it was submerged in the dye bath. Then we left it there a while, wandered off and played elsewhere, came back to check our silk’s progress, intermittently swirling the silk around in the dye… (side note: the smell?!? It was out of this world, and so reminded me of my childhood! Isaiah remarked that it smelled good enough to drink, “if it weren’t such junk, right Mama?” Right. While Kool-Aid shopping earlier, my friend’s son asked her why they make it look like it’s something you could eat, when it’s not? She decided to let him assume that, obviously, a packet of dye should not be ingested! You can read her post about this project here.)

We squeezed out the excess water, rinsed it in the sink until the water ran clear (which for most of the colors was pretty immediate, though in many online tutorials the instructions call for rinsing, and rinsing, and rinsing…), and then hung the silk outside on the line to dry.

After the first one, we started dying two at once, in about 10 cups of water, or enough to cover both silks (with 6 packets of Kool-Aid.)

We soon realized that the swirling and mixing during the dying process is helpful in getting the dye evenly distributed, if that’s the look you want. When we just plopped them in there and left them, the effect was more splotchy, tie-dye style.

Overall, this was a really great project to do with preschool age and older children, with a beautiful end result that will likely be played with for years to come!

my baby is one!

Our little Quinn turned one year old a couple of weeks ago. Hard to believe this little being has already been in his delicious little body for a full year! The memory of his birth is still so vivid: Quinn was born at home, in the water, after about 13 hours of labor.

Our midwife said he’d be a lover of water, and she was right, he really, really loves the water!

I remember his first smile, at just a few weeks old, followed soon after by his first laugh… a sweeter sound than this beloved boy’s laugh, I haven’t heard. He took his first steps about a month ago, and these days he’s walking across the room, a delighted grin upon his face. A few weeks ago he uttered his first word, so clearly (“Mama!”), and my heart melted, yet again. What a year we’ve had with him! So much growth, so many firsts, so much pure love. It’s a Quinny love-fest over here. I mean, those cheeks! Seriously.

Strangers comment on his beauty, his big, beautiful eyes, his easy smile. He loves to lay his head on our chests when we hold him, snuggling in for a long, sweet hug. His big brother can’t stop kissing him, forgiving him everything, so easily (from the rampant destruction of puzzles and block towers, to the attack of whatever Isaiah is trying to eat, to sudden hair pulling and banging on the head with hard wooden toys, to the division of Mama’s attention).

He’s lately taken to screaming and pointing to get what he wants (as opposed to the more dignified use of baby sign language, which he is understanding, but not so interested in using), isn’t much of a sleeper, climbs the stairs the second a baby gate is left unopened, and declares his meal over by spraying whoever is feeding him with his last bite of food (mashed carrot shower, anyone?) Despite these minor imperfections, however, you just can’t know Quinn and not adore him. He is a round, fuzzy-headed little bundle of joy, love, light and laughter.

Happy Birthday, dear Quinny!