I think I’ve mentioned Blythe’s scream before — the one that sounds like a ring-wraith. At 18 months, it only grows more powerful by the day. She longs to communicate, to be heard and understood. Although lately, I’ve felt a bit like a pet. She’s resorted to clapping anytime that I respond correctly to one of her signs or words. Applauds and smiles show her approval and contentment with the both of us. However, my failure to reply correctly evokes an alarm: “the scream.” Not a tantrum, as if she hasn’t gotten her way (although those happen also), rather these screams echo the frustration of being caged by the limited vocabulary. I watch her and see the way she studies her picture books and practices the sounds that roll out of my mouth, desperately trying to expand this short and finite vocabulary list. And she is. Everyday new words tumble out of those chubby cheeks, giving us privy to something seemingly small and easy, to us anyway. For instance, I say, “Blythe, let’s go and get dressed.” She replies, “Bow. Shoes.” — the essentials, of course. She also loves my phone (as most toddlers do). The other day, I caught her walking around taking pictures, saying “Cheese!” Right now, she’s sitting beside me, bouncing on a deflating balloon, saying “Mom! (she only says my name in exclamation.) Bye.” Translation: “Are you done yet?”
On another note, I think I’ve managed to weasel around the image problem.
Attention all vegans, vegetarians, and people with allergies to egg, wheat, gluten, nuts — you get the idea. I discovered this little ocean vegetable, Nori, in the health food store a couple of weeks ago, and it’s delicious. It’s the same seaweed used in Sushi, so I suppose if you don’t like Sushi or California rolls, you may decide to pass this one up. Otherwise, they’re fast, delicious, and really nutritious. You can fill it with whatever you choose; I opted for some of my favorite veggies: peppers, onions, spinach, and avocado. I’m sure a grain would taste perfect, too.
servings: 2 burritos prep time: 5 min. cook time: 10 min.
- 1 red bell pepper, sliced or diced
- 1/2 – 1 onion, sliced or diced
- 3-4 handfuls of spinach, cut off stems
- 1 avocado, cubed
- 1-2 Tbsp. of olive oil, coconut oil, or butter
- 2 sheets of Nori
Warm the oil or butter over medium heat. Add onion and pepper, and saute until they are tender. Add spinach, and saute until it turns a bright green color. Meanwhile, turn another burner to HIGH. Using tongs, roast both sides of the Nori over the burner (about 3″), until it turns a bright green color. Fill both sheets with the sauteed veggies. Add the avocado. Salt and pepper to taste.
TIP: If your avocado isn’t quite ripe enough, you can dice it and throw it in the saute (after the spinach). This meal is wonderful with blue corn chips and fresh fruit.
This song keeps returning to me, and each time I hear it, I appreciate it’s poetic genius even more. This musician, Mark Mathis, personifies the ocean, describing his love affair with the moon, defending against wrongful accusations, mourning his loss of contained life, groaning for his creator — it’s beautiful. Listen to the actual song here, below are the lyrics. He also has another CD, WARSHIP, (cheesy, I know), but lyrically and musically, it’s very powerful and filled with the truth you want coarsing through your heart and prayers.
“I am the deep blue sea”
Sit down young children on my sandy shore — I am the deep blue sea
I have a story for every boy and girl — who will listen to me
You see, I was born in a thunderstorm and raindrop I felt so free
’til I was taken from the river I loved — she was like a mother to me
It’s true my waters are frought with danger — but I need you to believe
That I never hurt an honest sailer — or battered your home with my seas
That’s from the north wind, that’s from the south wind, that’s from the west and from the east
They trespass on me — they raise my fury — they make me foam and they make me boil
I have a friend
One that I love
Her name is the moon
She holds me close
When she get thirsty
I let her drink
When morning comes
I lay her back downto sleep
You may ask, child, how old I am — well, I’m as old as there is time
Anchors have scarred my deep blue heart and the whalemen robbed me bloind
End times are comin’ — I will give up all these souls that I have held
And in the firelight I will return to the place I did begin.
Filed under: musings
Isn’t it strange the way that our vehicles and homes have become extensions of ourselves? I suppose whether we like it or not our possessions say something about us. Every choice we make gives us the opportunity to further distinguish ourselves from everyone else. So, buying a home, a car, or even a shirt, isn’t simply about what I can afford or what best suits my needs, rather what does this ____ say about me? Am I simple and practical? Environmentally concerned? Tough? Big and loud? Parent? Bad-ass teenager? This idea only further extends with bumper stickers. Driving a hybrid simply doesn’t say enough, so I need to throw “Tree Hugger” onto the bumper so that people will really get the idea. Or maybe people might want to know that this mini-van carries two Christians (with a baby Christian, of course) or a Darwinist, or two cheerleaders and a baseball player. But, then sometimes it’s not enough to simply identify yourself using your bumper, you want to passive-aggressively accuse/lecture another person (whom you’ll probably never speak to otherwise). So, you stick something like “SUV:Super Unpatriotic Vehicle” or “my hummer can crush your prius” or “my shit-zhu is smarter than your honor student” or my recent favorite, “nuke the whales.” Seriously? I remember when I was a kid riding with my mom down the highway. This other car had “honk if you love Jesus” on the bumper, so of course, my mom honked and waved at the lady, and she stared at us like we were crazy (and maybe we were). Which makes me wonder, how often do people forget about these little bumper identities? Other times I just wonder — well, I wonder a lot of things – what are they thinking? Mark and I recently read a bumper that said, “if you’re gonna ride my ass, you better be pulling my hair.” (Just so you know, we were stopped at a light, not her ass.) Disturbing, right? What thoughts went through this sweet little girl’s head that said, this is the way I want all of these strangers to identify or know me. Wow. When did this evolution of identity occur, so that now driving in shared space is no longer simply about reaching a destination, rather an opportunity to emote, criticize, brag, and predominantly, have other drivers take note of your individuality?
Am I being ridiculous? Maybe. Maybe I’ve thought too much about this. Maybe I should just put it on a bumper sticker.
Being at least two feet smaller than most people around you must leave you with a sense of being unseen, and therefore unheard. That’s my only assumption for Burke’s volume level when he speaks. Even his whisper is loud. The other day I had Burke and Blythe at Target when Burke yelled (at a volume as if he were 10 feet away, only he was about 2), “Mom, I HAVE to POOOOOP!” He repeated, “I REALLLY have to POOOOP!” all the way to the restroom, in spite of my reassurance that we were, in fact, heading to the toilet. I think everyone in Target knew Burke had to poop. So, we rushed in to the first clean stall, so he can go about — well, you know. Only, then he proclaims (in his booming voice) as he points to the stall next to us, “PEEE-UUUU, it STINKS in here. Smells like this guy (a girl actually) is POOPING.” Poor lady.
The picture above has nothing to do with his noise level, except that he’s silently sleeping with a BOOK ON HIS FACE. Funny.
But, really, these kids love noise. What? I can’t hear you. Turn it up.
They especially can’t get enough punk music, thanks to Mark. Right now, they sing ”don’t lose touch” by against me incessantly (the song is below for affect), and anytime we turn it on, it’s all out rockfest in the living room. The boys start strumming their light sabers like their guitars, and Blythe dances around singing “ohhhh-ohhhh.” There’s something strangely hilarious about preschoolers singing “I’m losin’ touch.” We need a video camera.
Yesterday, we (the entire family) planted our first vegetable garden. I had no idea the amount of toil this would require, managing the kids and exactly how many seeds they dropped and in which places. Certainly Mark, who actually built the box bordering the garden (fantastically, I might add), did the most physical labor. But, as we worked, sweating in the almost 90 degree weather (with 95% humidity), I was remembering the snow we experienced at my parent’s house just 3 weeks ago (sigh.). So, as we enter enter this soon-to-be-melting season, I thought I would share some pics of the boys tasting snow, making snowballs, making snowmen (one by Liam, another by Mark and the boys) before we all forget what it’s like to be cold.
