To be 5

Clara's birthday is coming up.  She's been counting the days and reminding me everyday.  She's already rehearsed the celebration plan several times, perhaps because she is worried I'll pull together a last minute surprise party and unlike Maryanna, Clara is not one for loud surprises.  While she is dreaming through the days until she is six I am simply savoring the innocence and sweetness of her still being 5, because 5 is a magic age.

Because when you are 5 the world is magic and you have the gift of reminding that to the rest of the world around you..........even me, a sometimes frazzled mother.  When you are 5 you see more flowers, fruits and blossoms than weeds.  And if you do see those really nasty weeds (like the ones over your head) it is a joy because now there is another place to hide, and anything that flowers is a flower to her.  More than anything it is the flowers that calls her to the garden, those are her flowers, she planted them and has permission to pick them whenever she wants, barefoot, still in her nightgown, with her stuffed cow still in arms........just at sunrise before anyone else is awake.

At first I thought I may have seen a ghost, through the foggy kitchen widow, that little flash of white tipped toed right passed me as I, still fixed in my adult mind, stewed over a list of the day's to do's and a steamy pot of oatmeal. And recognizing her presence there in her nightgown in the early dew and flowers was like waking up for a second time that morning.  And so I joined her......and where in the world did she find those scissors? I've been looking all over for them! Oh how hard it is for me to hold that magic space.

I can't tell her what to do in this space because this is her special place.  It didn't surprise her that the flowers came up "oh course they did, I worked really hard at it and so did the sun".

"I like how pretty they are and it is fun to pick them and bring them inside and I like how they look and....... I always watch the sunrise with you mommy because the sky is so pretty and watching the sunrise makes me happy..........when I'm five it is easy to be happy."

Her nightgown is dew soaked from dancing, and so are my toes from following her trail.  I'm thinking about that pot of oatmeal on the stove and wondering who is screaming inside, we better hurry.  But wait!  "Sister in the bushes is calling" she informs me, we read all about her in The Seven Year Old Wonder Book.  And it is a wonder, this cover crop of buckwheat, even easier to grow than weeds.  And I am told that the leaves look like hearts and this is exactly where "Sister in the bushes" prefers to hide.  This is a magic place, where both the weeds and time are stilled.

The weather is changing.  Instead of a bathing suit or sundress she now decorates herself for fall.  She  dances in the wind and drops each piece like scattered leaves, all. around. the house.  Someone please remind me, quick do your magic little 5 year old girl, turn me back from feeling like a monster and into a gentle mommy again.  And dancing in the kitchen will do it every time.

You wear it all well, your big heart and spirit and I am melted.

How about the work we do together?  I didn't know there were "outfits for stirring".  "Please don't make too big of a mess" I urge her, why am I struggling to find the fun in this?  Why do I spoil such beautiful moments with thoughts of how (and when) am I going to clean this up?

She quickly brings me back, "stirring makes my arm hurt but I still like it. I like to taste test it.  It tastes yummy because Hank said I'm a tomato picker and Hank is my friend and neighbor.  I like tomato sauce best with pasta and a spoon, even when it burns my tongue".............Perhaps I could do every task with a costume and such a smile, even when I might hurt my arm or burn my tongue?

Is it my purpose to teach her of my world or is it her purpose to remind me of hers? You know the world of a 5 year old little girl is a balmy place, it is where the whole world flowers, every rock is special and everyday conversations are expressed in gentle song.

Together with our family at Pointe Betsie I called to her because we were in a moment where our two worlds collided, of course they did, I was on vacation. "Clara, look!  the sun is setting", she casually replied, "I know, I like watching the sun rise and fall both the same, it is pretty and it happens two times a day and it is special".

I ask her if I can take a pretty picture of her in the light of the setting sun.  She answers me with a quick shift in demeanor and a sassy smirk and pose, as if to say, "no way mom, there is so much more to me than being pretty".

She liked cooking the s'mores on the beach with our family that night and especially liked snuggling with Poppy when it got cold.  I try one more time just as the sun slowly crept towards the water.  "Clara, let me take your picture in front of the setting sun".  This time her pose answered boldly....."oh Mom, you poor adult, you try way too hard, let me show you everyone has a shadow side".

Instantly after the click she was back to dancing and smiling. She suggested this rock also deserved its photo taken in the light of the setting sun. And so I clicked in a quest to discover the secrets of living in a 5 year old world.  After reviewing the photo I am told, "it kind of looks like a heart, can you see it?" Kind of, I suppose I'm almost there, or back to where I may have been over 30 years ago. 

Again, to her the whole world flowers, every rock is special and even the most everyday conversations are expressed in gentle song.  

While dressing her dolls this morning I caught glimpses and mixes of familiar lyrics set to a self composed tune:

"just like a spoonful of sugar, 

I'm following the train of your thoughts, 

and I like to see you too, forever with you." 

Hearing her sing is like watching the sunrise, it reminds me to slow down, be gentle with myself and be gentle with others as well.  She is usually one of the first ones up in the mornings, she likes to burrow under our covers and snuggling close she invites me to brush the hair behind her ears, she loves that.  

She is a wonder to me, and being the first one she greets in the morning and the last face in her eyes at night, I suppose I am a wonder to her as well.  At night she begs me not to read a story but to tell a story, one about "Rosie" the bendable bear and "Little Mermaid" the bendable rabbit going to the circus.  And then in turn I sing to each of the girls a special song, preferring a mix of familiar tunes to self composed lyrics.  I am not a singer but they have never once scolded me when I was off tune, only they request "again?" 

As I offer kisses and hugs I realize I am their sunset and sunrise as they are mine.  What a gift we are to each other, and what a gift it is to live and learn along side a wondering child of any age, even 36. Because every year is magic when you live in wonder and have the gift of reminding that to others.

Up North

Right now I'm doing a lot of laundry, dumping out piles of sand from our suitcases, finding little corners of found rocks and wondering why it took us three years of living in Michigan to make a trip "Up North".  I'm so grateful to Paul's parents for inviting us and sharing their rented cabin for the week, no one wanted to come home so I think we created a new annual tradition.  Pictured above is Nanny and Henry at Pointe Betsie enjoying the sunset and looking for special rocks.

   

There was plenty of space for us all in this bungalow cabin at Chimney Corners.  I also really appreciated the extra set of hands that Nanny and Poppy offered in taking care of meals and children.  But mostly it was just fun to be together, going on outings, lounging in the sand, staying up talking, laughing and even knitting.

Our first outing was to the fish hatchery.  I remember going there when I was a child and the smell of the facility brought the memory back to life.  The kids didn't mind the smell and really liked seeing the fish jump.

Nanny hung on to Clara the caboose who is always trailing behind collecting milkweed pods, acorns, pine cones and wild flowers.  She said she was going to plant milkweed at home and I suggested that we just enjoy them here on the little trail.

On the way back to the cabin we were surprised to find raspberries still in season.  There were plenty of hands to help with the picking and one of the favorite memories of the trip were Nanny's raspberry pancakes.  We finished off 5 pints in just days.

Another favorite outing was a canoe trip down the Platte River.  We left baby Charles back with Nanny and Poppy and loaded into three canoes.  Daddy, Maryanna and George named their boat the Dragon Boat, James, William and Clara called their's the Punching Boat and I shared a boat with Peter and Henry called the Racing Pirate Boat.  

Henry picked out a pirate hat and sword at the gift shop and was in character the whole 2 1/2 hour journey.  He got the attention of many fishermen and I had to remind him that the middle of a canoe was no place to practice sword fighting.   

 The river was remarkably clear and peaceful, and because it was just a week into the off season it seemed we were the only ones making our way down the river that day. It was easy going until we encountered some strong currents as we entered Loon Lake and it was a relief to me that our inexperienced band of canoers made it through without tipping.  There were a few crashes among us, some on purpose and some just happened and there was just enough family competition to keep tired arms rowing.  Unfortunately the Racing Pirate Boat slipped way behind on the last stretch because we got caught on a log.  Peter had to jump out and pull us out, but being a hero of a rescue mission is just as thrilling as winning a family canoe race.

The next activity was a stop at Sleepy Bear Dunes.  Half the kids were up the first dune and out of site before I even unbuckled the youngest two.  That had me racing up the dune with a baby on one hip and camera in hand, and boy am I out of shape!  I caught up to the kids but they were too quick to catch many photos.  William said it was like the planet Tatooine on Star Wars.  These boys were in constant motion running, rolling, jumping and practicing all sorts of stunts and wipe outs.  At one point they even took a sand bath acting just like the chickens splashing sand all themselves.

George made it up all by himself. He was pretty pleased with himself.

 

Going down was not as easy though so he chose the butt scoot, filled his diaper with sand and left a long trail behind him.

Charles was happy snacking on the sand.  This is the very spot that William learned to crawl just 10 years ago the last time we visited.

The girls made sand angels and somersaulted down.

It took a promise of pizza for dinner to get everyone finally back in the car.

The older boys and Daddy returned the very next morning to complete the dune hike that led to Lake Michigan.  I stayed back with the younger kids and Nanny and Poppy and we enjoyed the clear blue water and empty beach at Crystal Lake.

I was fully dressed when I demonstrated how to paddle board.  When I paddled out to waist deep water I wondered if it was a bad idea, I started laughing and wobbling and offered a good laugh to the kids and Paul's mom on how not to paddle board.  Maryanna was a natural so I'll have to take lessons from her next summer.

Meanwhile Charles could not get enough time in the sand.  He quivered the moment his toes first hit the sand.

And most of the rest of our activity was in the sand. Here is our whole company in the sand at Pointe Betsie at sunset - thank you very much self timer!

And thank you George for standing a split second to get one of the kids all together.

The rest of the evening the boys played football, the girls looked for rocks and we all snacked on s'mores.  

It was  a great trip, I especially enjoyed the moments that Paul's parents allowed us to slip away.  We enjoyed a nice dinner out a few minutes here and there on a swing just outside the cabin.  We split some cherry pie and dreamed about farming in Northern Michigan, yes it was lovely until reality hit and a call from Paul's employer caused for a shortened trip.   The kids were not the only ones heart broken.

Now that we are home the kids are continuing the fun, as I type this they have life jackets and goggles on and are "swimming" in the garden.  They also spent the morning drawing a map of all the places and activities we experienced and have filled their journals with the memories.  And I am humming the tune "yes Michigan - the feeling's forever".

  

Picture of the Week

Do you know how many heartfelt pictures are presented to me in any given day? I must be the luckiest person.  The only problem is there are too many pictures to keep on display and so as to not "play favorites" we have begun a special program called "picture of the week".  We've decided the picture of the week will be presented during family home evening and will remain on prominent display in the living room above the fireplace for one whole week.  

This week we are featuring Clara's drawing called "Mommy and Daddy".  All the faces are saying "yeah"! because we are getting married and we are standing in front of the earth and there are lights all around it.  I love this happy drawing!

In addition to the many daily drawings the kids recently finished their summer paintings.  This is Clara's "Flower House" painting.

Henry's Train

Peter's Elephant

William's Horse

Maryanna's Butterfly

And George's "Painting".  (James is not featured because he was busy working on a surprise for Nanny and I'm not ready to bust the surprise)

I love kid art, it makes me so happy, it feeds me the same way looking into their eyes feeds me.  

I'd like to add that there is another notable picture that has been floating around and "feeding" the family this week.  My mom sent a small package of old photos and in it there were a couple of wallet sized senior pictures from high school.  George clipped it onto a clothes pin and has been carrying it around all week and even sleeping with it, smiling and saying "I see happy Mommy".  And when George smiles I can't help but smile too.

So the cycle of giving and receiving joy has continued in many ways in our home this week, through drawings, paintings, photographs and even a smile.

How to can

I don't really know how to can, or even grow tomatoes, but my generous neighbors do.  From the 30 tomato plants I planted we've probably only picked 30 tomatoes.  So we helped our neighbors pick theirs and also visited a u-pick farm where the tomatoes were plentiful but expensive.  We got just enough to experience canning.  

It was a muggy 90 degree Michigan day so I set up in the garage with a portable stove, I borrowed a few needed supplies and jumped right into it.

I even borrowed the recipe, which actually isn't a recipe but a handful of ingredients followed by "to taste" as passed down through a line of my neighbor's Italian ancestors.  Basically I used about a bushel  of mixed tomatoes smashed through a strainer, 5 onions, 2 bulbs of garlic, 1 1/2 cups sugar, 1 T of salt and 1 T of pepper.  I let it simmer down for at least 4 hours until it reached desired taste and consistency.  The key ingredient of the sauce though was reserved for the very last step, a whole bunch of freshly picked basil leaves, like a whole plant's worth, tossed in (whole leaves) and then it is immediately ready to process.  The other secret to this sauce is regular stirring, to prevent burning it required my attention at least every 15 minutes.  But being outside I was able to move between projects and boy did we enjoy the smell!   

It was important though to keep the little ones away.  George still not feeling well rested in the tee pee.  That was fine until a chicken decided to join him.
 

The girls spent the day in the sandbox but I was unable to capture Henry. He had picked out some running shoes from a garage sale just that morning and did not seem to stop running from the moment we tied the laces, and I believe Peter was probably chasing him.

All the while James cared for Charlie and William kept the chickens out of the garage and out of the tee pee.

Everybody took turns "testing" the sauce and by the time we got it to our taste I had just about scorched my tongue.  We ended up with 17 quarts but consumed 3 in the following 2 days.

Perhaps our tomatoes will decide to ripen before the first frost, maybe I'll get lucky and find my own supplies on craiglist, I hoping because I realize canning tomatoes is something I now "can" do and I really hope to do again soon.  

Little helps for healing

The younger half of our family has not been feeling well.  Fevers, coughs and congestion have caused for demanding days and sleepless nights.

As one friend observed, "there is much giving and receiving in your home". And Clara takes to the giving naturally, especially when one is not feeling well.  In her own gentle way she whispers, sings and places her arms around who ever is in need.  In this case she collected her favorite rocks and placed them along George's body as he was suffering with a high fever.  This moment was too sweet not to capture, she was so intent and George shortly fell asleep.

Meanwhile in the kitchen I began brewing up some "potions" as my kids like to call them.  I consulted with the wise woman behind Indigo Forest and she suggested adding elderberries and rose hips to our regular red raspberry and nettle tea, that is the dark one and actually tastes good I'm told.

The other jar is a remedy made from a pound of garlic that was soaked in apple cider vinegar for four days, I strained it and then added some water and honey.  I got the recipe from here  and I have to say it is strong, even for me.  I swallowed the test dose in too much haste and honestly almost instantly threw up.  I went down to my knees and had to breath slowly for a few minutes before I could get back to normal motion.  But after the initial shock of the test dose I felt great, and have since taken a few spoonfuls to support my immune system as I'm caring for those who are sick.

Henry and Maryanna actually really like the garlic solution, I suppose they really need it the most.  Charles is still too young for honey so I'm just giving him sips of the herbal tea and spoon feeding him warm chicken broth.

George on the other is refusing both the herbal tea and garlic solution.  Instead he got into the cabinet with herbs and on his own took two dropperfuls of burdock blend and on another occasion chewed up a capsule of golden seal.  In both cases he said "yummy"...........and anyone who has ever tried those knows there is nothing yummy about them.  Perhaps he was in tune with what he really needed, I don't know, but I do believe if we are in tune we can know.

The tastier healing tools are pictured below.  We went through almost $30 of cough drops this week probably because everyone loves cough drops, even those who are not sick.  I told them anyone could have a cough drop after two spoonfuls of garlic juice and everyone but Paul and James fell for it.  They are tall enough to simply sneak a cough drop whenever they want.  But I have urged them to open the wrappers very slowly because even after the tiniest "crinkle" many little bodies come running with open hands.

Additional healing tools have included homeopathic remedies, essential oils, saying lots of prayers and practicing Jin Shin Jyutsu.  I believe in the Eastern philosophy that healing is 70 percent in nurturing and care and only 30 percent medicine, so that is what I practice with my family.    

And lastly, here's to the kind neighbor who not even knowing what I've been struggling with dropped off a fresh cut bouquet from her garden.  My spirit was revived by her visit and I'm happy to say all the little ones are slowly mending.