Do you like me?

That was the question I overheard my three year old son ask his six year old sister.

Both of them chatting in her room, scouring the baskets of toys and odd nick-nacks for a "Clue" game piece that had gone missing.

"Do you like me?" he asked.

"Of course." She answers. A short pause. "I love you. You're my brother."

"Well I love you Lily. Even if you were not my sister."

"Me, too."

=======================

I hope that as they grow and are separated by distance, they are never too far apart. It's only now that I'm older, I realize that not only do I love my younger brother, I like him too.

Even if he weren't my brother.

I enjoy Halloween.

Not for the fact that I get to keep much of the kids candy for myself. I consider it payment for the "trouble" of taking the kids out past their bedtime to trick-or-treat, inspecting their booty to ensure compliance to my standards [safe, not too sticky, not possessing any ingredient which could cause a severe allergic reaction] and lastly, keeping calm in the face of constant negotiation from the kids as to how many pieces they wish to consume, simultaneously.

Come on, isn't one at a time enough? Trust me. Skittles and licorice pieces do not make a good combination.

I enjoy Halloween because the kids enjoy Halloween. I simply love seeing them talk for weeks about all the different characters they could be and then finally decide on the one.

This year, my two oldest choose to be characters in the Wizard of Oz. My daughter, Dorthy, complete with sparkly red shoes [wait till she reads the book] and my son, the lion.

All this banter is background to share this point. The Friday just prior to Halloween, the children were asked to wear their costumes to school. As an aside, what is it with boys and swords/sticks...every little boy in my son's class managed to incorporate one into his costume [whether it fit or not; I don't remember superman using a sword, but whatever.]

So, my son wore his lioin costume to school. It happened to be raining that day. So he wore his boots and raincoat.

Judge for yourselves, but I think he makes a good Mr. Tumnus.

Years from now I think I will remember him as my Mr. Tumnus, wishing somehow I could return to times when we snuggled close, sipping sleepy-time tea, eating tea cakes and reading about the adventures of 4 childen.

Creatives

We pay thousands and thousands of dollars to develop and nurture our creative abilities. Hours and hours of time and effort writing, crafting, building and critiquing our 'created.'

I think that some if not much of this energy is spent simply trying to recover something that was lost. Some significant of our creative capacity that died.

Why do I think this? I have children. Children who are created as creatives; who come into this place ready to pour out without killing the creation.

Who says there is only one way to swing on a swing? Visit a park and watch how many different ways a child finds to swing on a swing.

Free

Just the other day, I was driving home with both older kids buckled in the back. I had just picked them up from school and we were heading home for a quick lunch, then a time of rest [quiet time.]

As we are cruising along the lake, blue skies and very little traffic, my daughter asks me to open the windows. I do.

I looked in the rear view mirror and watched as the two half-squint into the wind, smiling.

Q&A

It was about one o'clock in the morning. Stars were out as we drove along the highway in between little towns. Not much traffic was on the road that night; just us and an occational truck.

Both my kids were alseep, stapped into their car seats; hoepfully not to awake until morning when we pulled into YaYa and Grandad's driveway.

Then it started. I should have expected it. My daughter thoroughly enjoys asking questions and discussing philosophy, human behavior and all things spiritual and magical.

The first question falls under the latter interest.

"When fairies fly, do they get tired? Because they don't use their hands to fly, but rather their wings grow out of their backs?"

Now, recongnize the car has been completely quiet for several hours; I didn't even realize my daughter was awake. So, not only was I startled by the sound of her voice, but somewhat confused by the words that came out.

"Excuse me. What?" I said in a somewhat loud voice.

"Fairies have wings right? And those wings are on their back, instead of their arms like birds. So, daddy, do they get tired?"

"Hmmm. Well, sure. Some part of their body has to make the wings move. And it's that part that gets tired."

"Oh."

"Thanks daddy. Good night."

Marbles

What brings back memories from your childhood? What childhood moment is plucked from obscurity when your child is creating a moment of their own?



I remember very vividly the weekly excursions to the city museum my mom used to take both my little brother and I. My six-years-old eyes spent hours staring at the rocks and minerals carefully displayed in the Hall of Natural History. Giant amethyst, perfectly crystallized calcite and shiny cubes of pyrite captured my imagination and ignited a desire for rock hunting that continued for many years.



It was on a recent visit to a marble factory that brought this memory out of storage.



Thank you to my daughter for drawing out these memories and thank you to my wonderful mom for providing a place to create them.

Last Day of Swim Class

There are without question many challenges to being a parent. In fact, the challenges can eclipse the blessings. Some could argue that we should reflect on challenges themselves as blessings. Just try and convice a dad in the midst of a critical conference call, attempting to bottle feed an infant, while the two older children who should be in 'quiet time' are being anything but quiet. Blessing, perhaps ask me next week. Challenge, without question; no discussion required.


So...I hope that I can be completely present and wash in the moments that are clearly blessings. Moments of joy, peace and power. My fear is that I will miss them, treat them as mundane and in doing so rob them of the opportunity to nurish my life and my relationships with those I love.


The last day of swim class. What a joy. The oldest is swimming solo and the little one is happy in the pool without daddy by his side.