The Fall and Redemption of the Prideful Pumpkin

A seed was planted in a patch,
In a myriad of rows
Slowly, slowly it takes shape
Many a day it took to grow.

Twisting, tangling its vines spread forth
Bright orange they begin to turn
The air is crisp, the leaves aglow
And the autumn fires burn. 

They separate, they all line up
Ready to showcase their style
"Pick me! Pick me" they seem to say
Right now, they are all on trial 

Judged for shape, for color, for girth
Not a one is like another
They wait so hopeful and hold their breath
As those passing by do hover. 

Alas! One is chosen
Celebration is due!
This squash is then weighed
Its pounds...32!!

It's carefully heaved to the back of a truck
Surrounded by blankets it wont tend to roll,
Eventually it rests on the front of a porch
This fruit, so desired, has becomes prideful. 

"Ha! I am priceless! The others would say,
'He has it all to himself up here on a throne
I wish I were him, I wish I were there
I wish I had a spot all my own'."

"What is this? What is happening?
Ouch! That hurts!
Not my stem, not my top..
NOT MY INNARDS!!" 

"Oh my! How intrusive!
Oh how can this be?!
My beautiful roundness
Is scarred and ugly!" 

This pumpkin felt empty inside
As he sat on that porch all alone,
When people laughed at him
He could think only of home. 


"How cruel I have been
Thinking I was better than they
For certain they are happy
And here I am on display!" 

That pumpkin shined his light
One night, all alone
But come noon the next day
He was brought into the home.

Broken and sad
It began to mope
But what was in store
Gave that squash hope.

Sliced and diced
The fruit was transformed
It smelled of cinnamon and nutmeg
It was soft and warmed.

"I once was so proud..
'I am the best!' thought I,
But I found my true worth
When I tried humble pie."

The World is My Backyard

I live in a house that is just over 800 sq. ft. If you cut that in half accounting for the 50% that is above most of our heads, that means that the six of us have approximately 400 sq footage of actual living space, divide that by six and we each have about 67 square feet each. Yes, we bump into each other as we walk down the hall to the bathroom or the bedrooms, I frequently knock over my 3 year old as she quietly stands behind me, and if I get the chance to sit down on the couch to take in a few minutes of relaxation, I sometimes feel like the walls are closing in around me. I have always had a slight case of claustrophobia....it's no wonder I am intrigued by the great outdoors.

I consider myself fortunate that we have a fenced in yard for the kids to play in. When the boys, especially, get extra rambunctious, I can boot them outside without worry. But even going outside the house, can feel closed in. The fence that provides for safe play also provides a restraint.



Hey...it's my dream.

My children and I were born to run free! To explore the high mountains, to drive the rambling roads, to climb over boulders, and to run until we can run no more (which, lately isn't that far, lol!). I have this deep desire to live on the road for a period of time, long enough to get to know this country in an intimate way. I wish to show my kids that all those places they are learning about in school are not too far out of reach. This will happen. I can't see right now how it will, but I know it will because I believe that if you want something badly enough, you can make it happen. I am going to start making plans now, and shoot for the trip to begin in 2018 after Samuel turns sixteen. Then he can help with the driving.

2018, that number on the screen looks so futuristic, like the sci-fi movies my dad likes, the ones where the whole earth has been destroyed and now looks more like the past than the present. But seven years will fly by, I know because seven years ago seems like yesterday.

The reason I like to take the kids camping, hiking, climbing, tubing, etc., is because I can let their inner cavemen and cave women run wild. Now these outings can be technical pains in the neck for me; don't forget extra clothes, enough food, sunscreen, water, chairs, blankets, first aid kit, cooking apparatus, toys, towels, toothbrushes.... but it's about letting them run free and letting them be the wild little things that they naturally are. It's also about expanding our boundaries. It's one thing to run around the yard, or up and down the road without mom breathing down your neck, but it's another to climb the heights of Mt. Rainier, hop the waves of the Pacific Ocean, or explore the woods of the national forests.

Someone once said, "The world is my oyster" (I must be slow, because I never really got that saying), but I say, "The world is my backyard".

Can't Live With Them...Can't Live Without Them

Seven Sibs a few years back.

"Ora na azu nwa" - African Proverb

This saying in English means, "It takes a village to raise a child". I never understood that, or appreciated it, until I became a single parent. Try as I might, I simply cannot do it alone. I want to dedicate this post to my family. They are a rare and precious asset in my life.

When I moved back up to Washington with four kids, six and under, in tow, (and one in the oven), I knew at first I'd need a little help. My sister, Emily, spent a couple of weeks with me in Reno, helping me have a garage sale, pack up the house, and drive one of the vehicles the fourteen hour trek north. All this, not to mention being a shoulder to cry on and a HUGE help with the children. When we arrived at 11 o'clock at night, my grandmother's (Nana) doors were unlocked and the lights were on. When I drove the next day to the house we were moving into, my cousin, Jason, was there to help me unpack. When the kids got in my way, my sister, Tina, swept them up and took them to her house also providing a distraction for them as they played with their cousins. She also became the "school bus" driver when my schedule became too hectic between work and college classes.  When I couldn't afford Christmas presents, one of my aunts bought them all bikes. When I had to give up being a stay-at-home mother, my father, Nana, and sister stepped in to watch my children. My mother, in her understanding way, frequently offers me an evening off, even before I ask. My Aunt and Uncle are there when my boys are selling popcorn for Cub Scouts again, and when I had a flat tire today, there they were; gloves, knee pads and screwdriver at the ready to put on the spare. There are others, brothers and sisters-in-law, who have offered a sympathetic ear or words of encouragement, and a seemingly endless line of aunts, uncles, and cousins who have all given of themselves in one form or another.

On the other end of the stick, my life holds more meaning being able to be there for them, as well, when they need a shoulder to cry on, or an extra set of arms to help carry their burdens. What comes to mind when I think of my family is a human body. Each person is like a white blood cell, everyone together is the body. When there is a wound or infection to any one part of the body, everyone rushes to heal the affected member.

The term family extends to some very close friends, as well. I have been extremely blessed with friends who have treated me like family and whom I consider the same.  I am wealthy, I am blessed, I am grateful to be a part of those lives that have touched mine so deeply. Our friends we can choose, it's our family that we are stuck with.

That being said, I'm happy to be "stuck" with mine. As I've said before, we may not have it all together, but together we  have it all.

Just Tina's family and mine :)

A Funeral, Old Friends, and Oktoberfest Fun!

When Sister Maria Mechtilde left St. Mary's parish after over a decade of service to her parishioners, I missed her. I missed her smiling face and her witty humor. I missed her wealth of wisdom and her sympathetic ear. But when she died a week ago, I suddenly felt closer to her. I felt like I could call on her again, not only to give me advice, and help me to be patient, as she was, but to help my children grow in their faith and to look out for the good of their souls when I am not around.

This Friday, my mother, sister and I packed a few things and headed east over the mountains to Spokane, WA for the dear nun's funeral. My darlings happened to be with their dad this weekend so I was footloose and fancy free. I had been looking forward to one thing in particular...sleeping. Sleep has become an elusive desire of mine. I seem to be getting just enough to keep me going physically, but not quite mentally. And so, two-thirds of the way there I slept like a child in the back seat...Snuggie and all.

We reached Spokane around five o' clock and after walking the mall for a bit we grabbed a bite to eat and a specialty drink at Red Lobster. We all had the mind set of "We don't do this very often, let's do it right"....and so, we did.

At 8:30pm, being that it was the feast of Our Lady of the Rosary, a Rosary walk was held on the grounds of Mt. St. Michael's. Mount Saint Michael's is a beautiful Tudor-Gothic structure high on a bluff overlooking North Spokane. The building was erected in 1916 by the Jesuits and today it continues to fulfill its mission as an educational and religious center.

That evening, candles in specially made wind guards were passed out to those present. They looked like small lanterns ready to light our way in the pitch blackness. The only other lights were the bright moon and the city lights twinkling far below in the valley. A statue of Our Lady of Fatima was attached to a decorative wooden crate which was carried by four men. The angelic choir of nuns led the procession followed by the congregation with their lanterns. The Rosary prayers were recited by all and were mingled with beautiful hymns to our Lady. The sky was clear and the air was crisp.

After the touching ceremony concluded, the three of us headed back to the hotel. We were drunk with exhaustion and EVERYTHING made us laugh. I don't recall the last time I laughed so hard, and if I tried to explain what was so funny, it simply wouldn't be, so I will keep these memories in the 'I-guess-you-had-to-be-there' file.

The next morning, my mother was up long before the crack of dawn....something I always admired about her, and my sister followed shortly thereafter.  I, as usual, refused to get up any earlier than I had to. We were packed and ready to go by 7:45 am.

The funeral mass was everything one could hope for. A full church, beautiful voices filling the chapel, and a perfect eulogy. After mass, we walked in procession to the cemetery. Tears flowed as the other sisters presented her casket with dozens and dozens of pink roses. At one point, I closed my eyes and let the morning sun warm me, and in an instant, I could see Sr. Maria Mechtilde's smiling face. Later, my mother told me she had the same experience....surely this woman is in heaven.

As is the case in many families and circles of friends, the ripples of our lives have spread so far, that we may only see one another 'at weddings and funerals'.  This was the case for some of my dearest childhood friends. But it was such a blessing to see some of them and catch up on hugs and laughter. This meeting will hold us over now until next time. It is with these friendships that time never elapses, it is still now how it always was. Those relationships are rare and precious.

It was time to return home. Or was it?

Well, it was, but we decided to take the scenic route home. This route allowed us to see the many faces of Washington. We left the pine dotted far eastern side of the state, for the rolling wheat hills, the rugged basaltic canyons and the lush apple orchards, as we headed toward Wenatchee and eventually ended up in Leavenworth. The Bavarian-themed town's greatest event, Oktoberfest, was in full swing.

We arrived to find a crowd of eccentrics dressed in dirndls and lederhosen. Some wore funky hats of everything imaginable, from Egyptian pharaoh hats to fake Bob Marley dreads and everything in between. The streets were brimming with people of all ages, all looking to either sink their teeth into some authentic German food, or to have a drunken good time. We wanted a sampling of both (more food, less drunkenness). In fact, we were on the lookout for the best beer and bratwurst we could find.  After A LOT of walking, a lot of ducking in and out of 'off the beaten path' type stores, and a little fudge sampling, we found some food and beer.

We left satisfied.... a little too satisfied. I really wanted to change into my pajamas by the time we left, and I was looking forward to more sleep. I didn't get either on the way home, but what I got was an understanding of me. By that I mean, I got a better understanding of my mom, and through that, I found where I got some of the passions and tendencies that I possess, that I sometimes thought were illogical, if not illogical, then not very practical. For example, now I know where I got my wanderlust, my tendency to hum mindlessly, and my appreciation for the pretty little details of life.

Above all, I got away from the hustle and bustle of everyday. My mind is clear now and I am ready to listen attentively to the cares of my children. What a difference a day makes. Tomorrow the fabulous five will be home and I can't wait to see them.

Six Confessions of a Single Mother

"Vitality shows in not only the ability to persist but the ability to start over." - F. Scott Fitzgerald

I must confess, that since having started this blog, I have become frightened up there...high on the pedestal where people have put me. I have had comments that I am the "best mother", "truly an inspiration," and, "amazing". While these comments flatter me to death, I feel the desire to give a broader picture of my life.

In looking at my pictures, one is bound to ascertain that my kids are always happy, I am always calm, and dinner is always homemade with fresh, organic, whole foods. Today I am moved to reveal the family 'secrets' so that everyone will know us for who we really are. After all, who has time to snap photographs when their voice is raised, dinner is burning, and five kids need you urgently all at once?

Here it goes:

1. Most mornings I press snooze on average of 4 times before I drag myself out of bed. I want so badly to be a morning person. To jump out of bed, workout, have my morning coffee, and shower all before I cheerfully go in to wake up the kids. But....usually I finally resolve to grumbling and telling the alarm on my phone that I hate it and I'm getting up so stop yelling at me.

2. Because I snoozed too many times, I am always running late, and I tend to bark orders at the kids because nobody moves in the mornings... unless I tell them to (with the exception of Samuel and Cecelia, our household's "morning people"). Also, because we are running late, the kids get cold cereal for breakfast almost every morning. Ironically, when I've run out of milk or cereal and have to make eggs with bacon and toast, or hot oatmeal, I get a round of whines because they want Honey Nut Cheerios!


3. Although, as others have pointed out, I am pretty patient with the kids, but every mother has a breaking point. My kids push me to that point at least every other day. The usual straw that breaks this mama's back is one of my kids tormenting another and the 'other' whining about being tortured. This usually has a domino effect on all members of the family. A wise counselor once told me, "You have a small house full of six unique individuals, each one dealing with his or her own positive or negative feelings, emotions, ills, ups and downs. Each has his/her own preference for food, music, entertainments, clothing, activities and needs for rest. If you think about it, in order for everyone to be in sync all at once, all these different aspects of each individual has to coincide with every other person all at once. That is harmony. Treasure those moments, they are nothing short of miraculous." It's true. When my kids are all getting along and I'm not stressing about anything in particular, I tend to step back, take it all in, and thank God for that one moment.  Heaven knows, they are few and fleeting.

4. I don't like to get down on the floor and play. Okay, I'll be honest, I don't like to play at all! Whew, that was a big one for me. By playing, I refer to the use of toys. Somewhere between childhood and motherhood, I lost the desire to play with dolls, stuffed animals, Legos and all the things that I now consider "just something else to pick up".  Now, I know, adults don't play with toys anyway so why should I be ashamed? Because I simply can't bring myself to play with my kids when they ask me to play with their toys. Now, I would play catch with a baseball, or take them hiking, or dance in the living room, or run through a sprinkler, but I cannot pretend the plastic doll with pen stains on her head is my baby and I don't want to try to build something with blocks that inevitably keep falling apart in the final stages of completion.

5. I hate bedtime. Shouldn't bedtime be that cozy time of the day where I spend quality bonding time with my children, reading stories and sharing laughs? These kind of bedtimes are rare around here. (Although, I have to admit I had one today!!!) Usually I am so beat from the events of the day that by the time I tuck them in, bless them, kiss and hug each one....I don't want to hear their voices again until morning! Instead, I am usually gritting my teeth for the next half hour as I have to answer the on-going chorus of  "Mom!"s.

• Mom! I'm thirstyyyyyyyyyy.
• Mom! Can I turn the light oooooooonnnnnnnnnn.?
• Mom! Isabelle won't stop singiiiiiiiiiing.
• Mom! When can Dominic stay the niiiiiiight?
• Mom! What if a fly married a spider and lived in our closet...and had spider babies that could fly and make webs?.... (huh?)
• Mom! Do we have Cub Scouts tomorrooooooow?
• Mom! Can you scratch my baaaaaaaaaack?
• Mom! What are you doiiiiiiiing?
• Mom! um.....um......um......I love you.
• "I love you, mom."
• "I love you, mom."
• "I love you, mom."
• "I love you, mom."

"I LOVE YOU TOO, NOW GO TO SLEEP!" These are usually my finally words of the day.

6. I stay up way too late.  Now that I have some peace and quiet, I don't want to give it up.... even for a good night's sleep! I usually edit my photographs, check in with Facebook friends, read, or watch The Biggest Loser.....yes, I'm a fan. It's not that I dread another day, because each day teaches me something new, each day allows me to experience my children in a slightly different way, each day is another opportunity to grow closer to God and closer to the kids, but what I do dread is the 6 o'clock alarm, screaming my name, bewailing me for staying up too late!!! Okay, I think...how many times can I afford to press snooze today? And WHY, for heaven's sake, do I have to get up before daylight?! That should be illegal.