Happy birthday, baby

My sweet boy had his second birthday on Thursday. I have to admit that we didn't really do anything to celebrate; I have lots of presents for him (since I spoil him so much, you know), waiting in Christine's barn, but I don't feel inspired to have a party till after we move (since I'm such an uncaring, neglectful mother, you know). I did hug him and kiss him and tell him "happy birthday" all day... but we also had to go to the doctor to see about a bump at the outer edge of his left eyebrow. (I could have waited till next week, but I was worried.) Doc said let's operate, so yesterday I took him to the hospital to have it removed... they had to put him under, and it took the whole day (including recovery) rather than the hour or two I'd anticipated, but it turned out to be two sebaceous cysts, completely harmless. No, not a brain tumor (not that I was worried about that or anything). He's fine now, though he does have some ugly swelling around his eye. Looks like he was in a bar brawl -- oops, I mean a schoolyard scuffle. No, there's lots of swelling and dark bruising, and his bandage has a spot of blood on it, so I think that's bar brawl level. And it was hard seeing him in that little hospital gown... eerie, I guess. I'm incredibly superstitious about weird stuff like that.

Anyway, we'll celebrate after we move into the new house, which will be a week from tomorrow. I'm beyond excited. A bit scared (mainly that somethine else will pop up at the last minute to kill the deal) but still dreaming about having my own home again. I keep my large collection of seed packets right here on my work table just to remind me that it won't be much longer till I'm gardening again. And no longer living IN A TRAILER 14 MILES OUT OF TOWN. (Yeah, the "camping-out" fantasy has worn thin.)

I wanted to put up pictures of Lazarus over the past two years... so here goes.

His first day:


Kissy face:


With grandma:


Morning (just before he outgrew the basket Maggie now sleeps in):


With mama:


Balloon!


First Christmas, in Denver:


Da king of bongo:


First birthday:


Hot summer day:


At the springs:


At the beach (Atlantic side):


Reading:


Second Christmas, in New Mexico:


Walking!


On the road again:


London calling:


The lil' dude:

New moon

I just looked at the calendar and noticed the moon is new today. Lazarus and I have been looking for it (he scans the sky everytime we go outside and asks, "moon?") so now I know it'll show up again soon in the early evening sky.

This lunar phase: Lazarus' birthday is tomorrow. We close on the house deal a week from tomorrow, have a party with the sellers and friends Friday the 28th, and start moving stuff over Saturday. Every time I go to town now, I drive by the house just to look. Yesterday I ran into Kurt and Lisa, and we chatted for a while -- Lisa said I could go in and look around anytime, hang out in the yard, whatever, which was generous of her, but I don't want to intrude. And I can endure ten more days of anticipation.

Should I start packing? ...nah.

Looking outward (it happens sometimes)

First, this is for my mom:


Three weeks until we close on our house. That's 21 days, and in 23 days we'll go over and stand in our blessedly spacious house... and then start filling it up with our stuff, some of which we never unpacked when we left California. I figure we'll end up getting rid of half our stuff (giving some away, selling some, using some to furnish our store which Antonio will finish renovating this summer [*fingers crossed*]). But the house has built-in bookcases all over, including up in the loft, so I can finally bring out my many, many books and feel like an intelligent person again. Well, a well-read person, anyway.

So much for mundane stuff. I finally pulled my head out of the sand and started watching and reading news again. Stuff like this absolutely turns my stomach. If the tables were turned, the US would be spouting holy terror and launching nukes.

"They said they were going to kill us, but in the end they took the bags off our heads and I was surprised to see my friends around me." --Haydar Sabbar Abed, Iraqi inmate, as told to BBC News.

Neither side in this conflict has exactly played fair, but clearly -- not that it wasn't crystal clear before -- current US "leaders" don't believe stuff like the Geneva Convention applies to them, either. To wit:

In the case of armed conflict not of an international character occurring in the territory of one of the High Contracting Parties, each party to the conflict shall be bound to apply, as a minimum, the following provisions:

1. Persons taking no active part in the hostilities, including members of armed forces who have laid down their arms and those placed hors de combat by sickness, wounds, detention, or any other cause, shall in all circumstances be treated humanely, without any adverse distinction founded on race, colour, religion or faith, sex, birth or wealth, or any other similar criteria.

To this end the following acts are and shall remain prohibited at any time and in any place whatsoever with respect to the above-mentioned persons:

(a) Violence to life and person, in particular murder of all kinds, mutilation, cruel treatment and torture;

(b) Taking of hostages;

(c) Outrages upon personal dignity, in particular, humiliating and degrading treatment;

(d) The passing of sentences and the carrying out of executions without previous judgment pronounced by a regularly constituted court affording all the judicial guarantees which are recognized as indispensable by civilized peoples.

President-select Bush is "reportedly annoyed" with Donald Rumsfeld over all this. Probably because Bush and his Rove-ing progaganda masters got taken by surprise and didn't get a chance to spin or squelch this stuff. Now it's a big mess, and that's bad for the administration. Because it's all about Face, you know.

Awwwww

Poem on Your Blog Day (a day late, of course)

I have a correction to make: the night I went into labor with Maggie, as Antonio drove me to the hospital in Socorro, KUNM's "Spoken Word" program was playing the following (not Maya Angelou's "On the Pulse of Morning" as I reported earlier, thinking I had recognized Angelou's voice in the reading). This is just as fitting and inspirational for marking the beginning of my daughter's life:

Ego Tripping (there may be a reason why)

Nikki Giovanni (1973)

I was born in the congo
I walked to the fertile crescent and built
the sphinx
I designed a pyramid so tough that a star
that only glows every one hundred years falls
into the center giving divine perfect light
I am bad

I sat on the throne
drinking nectar with allah
I got hot and sent an ice age to europe
to cool my thirst
My oldest daughter is nefertiti
the tears from my birth pains
created the nile
I am a beautiful woman

I gazed on the forest and burned
out the sahara desert
with a packet of goat's meat
and a change of clothes
I crossed it in two hours
I am a gazelle so swift
so swift you can't catch me

For a birthday present when he was three
I gave my son hannibal an elephant
He gave me rome for mother's day
My strength flows ever on

My son noah built new/ark and
I stood proudly at the helm
as we sailed on a soft summer day
I turned myself into myself and was
jesus
men intone my loving name
All praises All praises
I am the one who would save

I sowed diamonds in my back yard
My bowels deliver uranium
the filings from my fingernails are
semi-precious jewels

On a trip north
I caught a cold and blew
My nose giving oil to the arab world
I am so hip even my errors are correct
I sailed west to reach east and had to round off
the earth as I went
The hair from my head thinned and gold was laid
across three continents

I am so perfect so divine so ethereal so surreal
I cannot be comprehended except by my permission

I mean...I...can fly
like a bird in the sky...

I love this poem, and I love reading it again. "I cannot be comprehended except by my permission" -- what a statement. And "My strength flows ever on." Most conspicuously, and meaningfully, through my beautiful children.

Perspective

Last Friday night we went to the annual business meeting of our electric co-op, mainly to hang out and listen to our friends play (fiddle/guitars/mandolin) but also to see if we'd win the car they were giving away as a door prize. We didn't win the car, but I did win $100! I put the bill carefully in my wallet, thinking I might deposit it in the bank (to help with bills) but leaving my options open in case I decided to let myself splurge a bit.

Wednesday morning, as I was hanging out laundry, I heard the dogs wimpering -- they never wimper; they always bark happily when they see me -- and looked over to see two very pained prickly faces. Apparently they'd tangled with a porcupine the night before and came out on the sore end of things. They also smelled of skunk -- talk about a bad night. So I called the vet and said I couldn't pull many of the quills out because they were in pretty deep. She said to bring them the dogs in to have the quills removed under anesthesia. We went, the dogs are fine now, and it cost me $97.11.

So... I still came out $2.89 ahead of where I was last week. Heh.

And now for the entertainment news. We have (nearly) live footage of more monkey-boy eating adventures:



He's so proud of himself. He managed to cram a whole handful of cat food in his mouth without dropping one piece. *Sigh.* How do you like the haircut? It's a real one (professional) -- we all went into town for haircuts on Tuesday, and I joked with Karolyn that we were like wild people coming down out of the hills for our yearly haircut. Considering I haven't had a real cut and style since last July, that's not too far off. Lazarus howled and fought the whole time, but Karolyn persevered and did a good job. She also paused while cutting my hair to let me bring Maggie up under the cape for some nursing. Now that's my kind of place.

Maggie smiled big at me this morning, and I am enchanted. Haven't managed to capture it on camera yet, but I will soon. Here she is, a few days ago, lounging around like babies do:



I'm still on dial-up, and will remain so for at least another month. And perhaps beyond that -- I'm seriously considering not renewing the Starband contract in May. Turns out the modem wasn't bad; the satellite dish got kicked out of alignment, probably during the recent winds. To get it back, I'd have to call the installer and have him come out to realign it, to the tune of $200 or so. I'd have to call him again to set the whole thing up when we move in June, for another $200. And I'd have to keep the dial-up account because I can't work with the seemingly constant service disruptions. So... I think I'll bail out when my year is up. It's too pricey and too unreliable -- definitely not ready for prime time.

We start moving a month from today. I'm getting impatient, especially since the flower and vegetable seeds I ordered arrived today... but we can hang on for a while longer.

Dial-up is faster than satellite Internet

... especially when the dang satellite modem goes bad. Again. I wish I'd just gone with the local dial-up in the first place, because it's not that bad... well, it's 28K on a good day, but I've had so many headaches with the Starband system (at $100 a month, plus $500 start-up) that that seems just dandy now. Reliable is good.

Anyhoo. Here's a recent self-feeding experiment gone awry (that's Lazarus in the picture, not me, though I've had similar adventures in my grown-up life):





Maggie will be seven weeks old on Monday, and she's getting bigger and more interested in the world every day. She also looks a lot like Lazarus did at that age -- though she's much more serious, I think. Here's my littlest sweetie-pie:





We all got out for a walk this morning, before the winds got too fierce, and now we're camping out in the house because I don't want the babes to get taken away on a gust of wind. Ah, spring in New Mexico.

The babies are fine -- Maggie is healthy and alert and almost smiling for real, and Lazarus is starting to really talk. I haven't updated lately because my digital camera batteries are dead and I can't manage to go get more (and I'm not willing to pay $7.50 for four batteries at the new local convenience store). Lame excuse, I know. Maybe I'll steal some from the remote controls... then Antonio will be compelled to go get new batteries himself. Or, I could just ask him directly to go get me some. Naahh, the sneaky underhanded approach is more fun. Heh. Besides, I need to take pictures now, while the babes are still cute. Heh, again.

Assuming I finish my editing job today, we might get outside for a walk -- I think the rain/snow/hail/sleet have moved on, finally, and we're due for a warm-up over the next few days. People here say it's been a bizarre spring so far -- all the rain and snow is unusual, apparently (though welcome), and we haven't had the wretched winds that usually start in March and go through May. I'll take this any year. Things are starting to green up, and as much as I love New Mexico, I do miss the abundant green springtime I grew up with.

One more note: I have a few final details to take care of, then we meet with the sellers of our house-to-be and sign papers and get everything ready to go for escrow. They told Antonio last night that they're leaving by June 1 -- so in two months I'll finally be in "my" house again! I'm itching to have my own space again, and of course to start gardening -- I realized yesterday that I'll only be a few weeks late with planting, since our last frost date is May 15, so I might just go ahead and put in that veggie garden! In fact... when we meet with the sellers (Kurt and Lisa) on Tuesday, I think I'll ask if I could go over there for a day in May and start getting a few garden beds ready. They're very cool people (and I'm sorry they're leaving town), so I'm sure they'll be fine with that.

Now I know what to get Lazarus for his birthday: a little wheelbarrow, spade, rake, and garden bib. I need a garden helper.

What a beautiful first day of spring. I haven't been outside yet, but the warm breezes through the open windows and doors are almost intoxicating. And it's unexpectedly peaceful here at the moment -- Lazarus is almost 2.5 hours into his nap, and Maggie has been dozing lightly for over an hour, which has given me time to shower, lunch, and get on the computer. I suppose I should sleep (up for good at 4:30 a.m. yesterday, 5:00 today), or clean the place up, or get the rest of the laundry off the line, but... nah, I'm doing what I need to do right now. And I wanted to post these pictures -- Maggie is opening her eyes so much now, and they don't seem as blurry or confused as they did a week ago. I love it when she looks intently in my eyes... and then farts and lets out a deep sigh....





Dang she's a sweetie. Okay, I'll go clean up now. Unbelievably, Lazarus is still asleep. -- Oh, scratch that: "Doo-doo dah doh, Aah gah go oh..." Sounds like he's in a good mood.

Good morning

Maggie woke me up around 4:30 this morning, and I couldn't manage to get her back to sleep before Lazarus woke up at 6:00, so I might need two cups of coffee this morning. But now that everyone is fed, we're having a peaceful morning, listening to the Weavers and Doc Watson and enjoying the warming day. Maggie is having another "don't put me down morning" in the sling...


and Lazarus is running around playing with the grown-up toys -- he looks so serious when he picks up the phone, like he's calling his stockbroker or something (he's just listening to the dial tone -- I don't think he's managed to dial a real place yet):


We're going for another walk this afternoon with Christine and Jai, and this time I might see how Maggie does in the stroller with the snuggler support Mom got for her. Jai might object to riding separately, though -- he likes being with his buddy "La-la." It's so interesting to watch them learn how to play together and try to work out rudimentary social skills.

I hope this great weather holds up. Everyone says we're supposed to be in wind-tunnel mode by now, so we'll enjoy it while we can. I've already seen some trees (cherry? peach?) starting to bloom (though they won't likely fruit, if we get the usual mid-spring hard frost to knock them out), and people report that gardens in Socorro are already budding and blooming. We have lots of new birds, too. I'm hearing songs I haven't heard all winter, and even Lazarus notices all the activity -- he points up at the trees and says "eee-eeee," and gets excited when a small flock passes overhead. God do I love spring.

More pictures, at least

When naps coincide, I can either sleep or get stuff done around the house. When naps don't coincide, I play tag-team with the babies and try to stay sane. Things get kind of rough by late afternoon, but with the weather getting nicer, maybe that's the best time to go out for a stroll. Lazarus and Jai took a test run last week in the wonderful stroller my mom got for us -- now we can go all over the dirt roads and trails here, mama and babies and dogs and all. Maggie's too small for it now but will grow into it very soon (I can carry her in the sling till then)...


Maggie is growing fast -- she's not quite out of the newborn clothes yet but is definitely starting to fill out. And her head grew a half inch so the hats I've knit for her might fit sooner rather than later. Here she is after an afternoon snack the other day:


She's opening her eyes a lot now, so I'll try to get more pictures (gotta get some AAA batteries for the camera... it's very difficult getting out to the store now, but I guess I'll get the hang of it soon...)

Lazarus has had a great time playing at Jai's lately -- Christine said he pushes this little toy around and around the yard every time he's there, and she lent it to us so he can play with it here at home:


I love this shot just because it was one of our first warm spring-like days, and Lazarus got to play outside at Jai's all afternoon:


Lazarus rubs his near-naptime eyes, and Maggie stirs, so I guess it's another tag-team day.... Better go take care of those babes.

A Sunday kind of love

We've had the best Sundays since we moved in January. We putter around, Antonio does some laundry, and eventually we get in the car or Bronco and go somewhere scenic. A few weeks ago Antonio drove us through Bear Trap Canyon, a surprising oasis in the mountains just south of us, and since we were in the Bronco, which doesn't offer much style or comfort but has rock-solid 4-wheel-drive, the mud and snow were no problem. We scoped out some camping sites along the way, Lazarus oooohhed at all the big trees, and Lucy the dog tried to leap out every time she saw cattle or, deep into the canyon, the two elk who just watched us go by.

Yesterday we managed to get ourselves and two babes ready, get in the car, and drive to Pie Town for a late lunch and, yes, pie. It was my first time out of the house since I'd gotten home Wednesday night, and it was also the first truly warm, spring-like day in a few weeks. As we drove west across the Plains of St. Augustine and past the Very Large Array, the snow left on the higher edges of the plains looked almost like whitecaps on a distant ocean. Heading into and past Datil, we were back in hilly territory, with strange rock formations shaped less by the rare water than by the raw wind that's so bountiful here. At Pie Town, we ate at the Daily Pie Cafe -- which, aside from a gallery/land sales office and perhaps one or two other businesses, is the only act in town. Lazarus looked around and exclaimed at all the wonders he saw -- the old hats hanging above a window, the tuba suspended in front of another window, the big pile of wood next to the wood stove -- and I felt the same, just to be in another place for a while. Maggie just stared, then went to sleep. We finished (the coconut cream pie was divine), drove home, and I nursed Maggie while Antonio made a great roast and Lazarus tried very hard to stay underfoot.

Our Sundays make the week wonderful, Antonio said last night.

Here are the road-trippin' babes, with Lazarus giving the "ready to go" signal:



and here's a closeup of Maggie, dressed for her first outing in a sleeper and sweater that Christine lent us (I love dressing my baby in heirloom knits!):



Both babes are actually asleep. I should be, too. Tired, stubborn me.

With hope, good morning

Around 11:45 p.m. last Sunday night, as my husband drove fast and anxious down Highway 60 and I labored, we listened to the following on KUNM's "Spoken Word Hour" program. I'd read and heard this poem before, but it struck me as incredibly fortuitous that it would air just before the birth of my daughter. The words and the cadence of Maya Angelou's strong reading gave me such strength in the 12 hours of labor that followed, and that next morning, the final lines echoed in my ears as I held my beautiful Magdalene for the first time.

On the Pulse of Morning
Maya Angelou

A Rock, A River, A Tree
Hosts to species long since departed,
Marked the mastodon.
The dinosaur, who left dry tokens
Of their sojourn here
On our planet floor,
Any broad alarm of their hastening doom
Is lost in the gloom of dust and ages.
But today, the Rock cries out to us, clearly, forcefully,
Come, you may stand upon my
Back and face your distant destiny,
But seek no haven in my shadow
I will give you no hiding place down here.

You, created only a little lower than
The angels, have crouched too long in
The bruising darkness,
Have lain too long
Face down in ignorance
Your mouths spilling words

Armed for slaughter.
The Rock cries out to us today, you stand on me,
But do not hide your face.

Across the wall of the world,
A River sings a beautiful song,
It says, come rest here by my side.

Each of you a bordered country,
Delicate and strangely made proud,
Yet thrusting perpetually undersiege
Your armed struggles for profit
Have left collars of waste upon
My shore, currents of debris upon my breast.
Yet, today I call you to my riverside,
If you will study war no more. Come,
Clad in peace and I will sing the songs
The Creator gave to me when I and the
Tree and the Rock were one.
Before cynicism was a bloody sear across your
Brow and when you yet knew you still
Knew nothing.
The River sings and sings on.

There is a true yearning to respond to
The singing River and the wise Rock.
So say the Asian, the Hispanic, the Jew
The African, the Native American, the Sioux,
The Catholic, the Muslim, the French, the Greek
The Irish, the Rabbi, the Priest, the Sheikh,
The Gay, the Straight, the Preacher,
The privileged, the homeless, the Teacher.
They all hear
The speaking of the Tree.

They hear the first and last of every Tree
Speak to humankind today. Come to me, here beside the River.
Plant yourself beside me, here beside the River.

Each of you, descendant of some passed
On traveller, has been paid for.
You, who gave me my first name, you
Pawnee, Apache, Seneca, you
Cherokee Nation, who rested with me, then
Forced on bloody feet, left me to the employment of
Other seekers--desperate for gain,
Starving for gold.
You, the Turk, the Arab, the Swede, the German, the Eskimo, the Scot,
You the Ashanti, the Yoruba, the Kru, bought
Sold, stolen, arriving on a nightmare
Praying for a dream.
Here, root yourselves beside me.
I am that Tree planted by the River,
Which will not be moved
I, the Rock, I the River, I the Tree
I am yours--your Passages have been paid
Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need
For this bright morning dawning for you.
History, despite its wrenching pain,
Cannot be unlived, but if faced
With courage, need not be lived again.

Lift up your eyes upon
This day breaking for you.
Give birth again
To the dream.

Women, children, men,
Take it into the palms of your hands.
Mold it into the shape of your most
Private need. Sculpt it into
The image of your most public self.
Lift up your hearts
Each new hour holds new chances
For new beginnings.
Do not be wedded forever
To fear, yoked eternally
To brutishness.

The horizon leans forward,
Offering you space to place new steps of change.
Here, on the pulse of this fine day
You may have the courage
To look up and out and upon me, the
Rock, the River, the Tree, your country.
No less to Midas than the mendicant.
No less to you now than the mastodon then.

Here on the pulse of this new day
You may have the grace to look up and out
And into your sister's eyes, and into
Your brother's face, your country
And say simply
Very simply
With hope
Good morning.

Welcome baby!

Magdalene Ruth made her dramatic entry into the world on Monday, March 1, at 11:34 a.m. -- "natural" birth, no drugs, and a fast, slippery landing on mama's belly!

We stayed at the hospital till Wednesday, and right after we came home we got the brunt of a heavy late winter storm that knocked out our electricity for most of yesterday. Sorry for not updating sooner! More details later, but here are some pictures:

Magdalene on Tuesday, just one day old:


and on Wednesday, before we came home:

Pictures!

Lazarus pulls his hat on now before we go out the door -- just like Papa:


Eating today -- gettin' better with the spoon:


You want ME to do your taxes???


And here's one of my favorites, from one year ago yesterday, when we traveled to a remote place in New Mexico for a break that has turned into a lifetime:

Pictures to follow, I promise...

Just found my camera and will take some pictures today.

But I had to post this -- step aside, al-Qaeda, you've met your match:

"The NEA [National Education Association, the nation's largest teacher's union] is a terrorist organization."
--Rod Paige, education secretary for G.W. Bush

Sign me up, baby.

Picture fest (with just a short rant)

I hope this trend of states resisting Bush's No Child Left Behind nonsense continues -- the only way to change something is to oppose it, actively. Give courage to others considering the same action.

As promised, the picture fest!


Mmmmm, hot dogs.....


What? You gotta problem wit' dat?


More outside playtime:


Look what grandma made for MEEEEEEEEE!!!


Whaddaya mean this one isn't for me? Who else could it be for?

I looked down in the trash can. The trash can at the bottom I could see was filled with some cardboard packing material, including the kind of nylon-type straps and maybe some bubble packing. On top of that was a page or two of standard white, low-grade packing-type paper. And on top of that is this little, loosely thrown or tossed group of pages, standard 8 1/2--by-11-size pages and I guess what struck, what got my interest, was on the top page at the top of it was a handwritten entry in a standard form with the name "Bush," comma, "George W," comma, "On Lt." That was in pen ink entry. That intrigued me. It concerned me, looking back at it, I knew initially that it bothered me that was in the trash can. It struck me pretty hard initially. The total number of pages I've estimated were between 20 and 40 pages.
-- Retired Texas Air National Guard Officer Bill Burkett, speaking to Salon.com of an incident that occurred in Spring 1997

God bless and protect the whistle-blowers.

"Eighty percent of the nation's property -- land, stocks, bonds -- is now in the hands of 10 percent of the people: the 13,000 richest families have a net worth equivalent to the assets owned by the poorest 20 million people."
--Molly Ivins and Lou Dubose, "Bushwhacked"

I can't do much these days -- feeling breathless and tired -- but at least I have some good reading material thanks to a friend's bountiful library. Gotta read, rest, stay calm... I just have to make it to Friday -- 35 weeks -- and then I won't have to get transported up to Albuquerque (now 114 miles away) for the birth. I was fixated on birthing prematurely with Lazarus, too, so I keep telling myself to relax and stop obsessing over it.

It was sunny and close to 50 degrees out yesterday... and we finally managed to get outta the house! Lazarus was, to put it bluntly, a pain in my butt all morning (he's testing boundaries a lot these days and probably has figured out that I'm not terribly mobile), but a nap, lunch, and some time outside playing in the dirt and watching the dogs wrestle cheered him up a lot. Me too.