44 Months (the second act)

Getting the kids into bed is becoming an increasingly difficult task, so much that it is extremely draining and by the time we finally rustle them into their prospective cages, all I want to do is go find my own bed and collapse into the pillow (in slow-motion dramatic effect like I'm in some Hollywood movie that tries to capture the trials of parenthood but never manages to get it right because there is nothing that you could ever put up on a screen that will make you understand the complexity and confusion and exhilaration involved in all of these decisions that we deal with every day and when these false images are filtered down to us through the media of popular culture I simply want to scream at the screen, YOU JUST DON"T GET IT!)

But I digress.

We used to put all of it down to the notion that, since they no longer nap during the day, that they are so exhausted that their brains simply can't concentrate long enough to brush their teeth or put on their pajamas or clean up their rooms or...well, do anything that will help Christina and I some small fraction of sanity before another day has been lost to us (even Quinnie has now decided that napping is just such a two-year-old thing and since she's three-going-on-four that it is somehow beneath her dignity to lay her head down for an hour or two or even for thirty minutes so that some people in the house may have a moment of relaxation and it'll be better for her later anyway when she is trying to focus on the various necessities required of her in order to get her into bed without dragging her through the house by her hair and plopping her down into the warmth of her covers thumb in her mouth blankie on her cheek)

Whew!

Once I think about it, I suppose that most of these complaints are simply my version of acting out after becoming frustrated or tired from the heedless burden life can dump on our heads. Don't we all reach a point at the end of the day where we are fed up with the constant pushing and pulling of our attention and we either fall down into a heap somewhere and zone out or jump around and act out, attempting to diffuse some of those turbulent feelings jumbling around within us? I suppose that we are all looking for some healthy way to process these strained emotions and our children aren't any different.

We used to give them tea because that works really well with ourselves. A calming warm influence that brings us down to settle before the flames churning in our hearth, ruminating on the experience of being alive. That worked for Lucas and he probably needs it the most because he has a tendency to amp out of control when his brain begins to shut down. Quinn is a different story altogether. Yeah, she has her moments when her impish qualities are revealed through a strange source of energy that is hard to explain but much of her night time issues are from some really bad habits that she is struggling to break.

Quinn has a power inside that has the ability to go toe-to-toe with anybody's will. I used to call her stubborn but now I know that she is willful, in the sense that her will is bound to be the fullest of all when it comes to a showdown that she is determined to make. Right now, it devolves into lots of screaming and continuous use of the word "can't" and when I hear that word my will comes forth to challenge. No, "can't" is unacceptable because we can always try. That's the attitude I immediately take but not Quinn, not if she's decided that she is not going to do it. That's when it turns ugly real quick.

And that's when I truly find myself failing as a parent. I know in my heart that there are better ways to communicate to my three-year-old daughter that may empower her to try instead of cry but my ego has taken over and since I'm on the side of righteousness and she just doesn't get it, Quinn falls into a puddle of tear-stained red-faced cheeks as she squirms and shakes and anguishes against the unfair world that has crushed her soul. Then the shock of her behavior punches me in the gut and I realize that I am no longer a father. I have turned into an ogre.

I pick her up and I soothe her, do everything in my power to calm her down and it takes way longer than if I had simply used a calming influence ten minutes earlier. As the adult, shouldn't I be the one with the power to make decisions based on maturity during these difficult situations? When a standoff of wills occurs with my daughter, I always realize this basic truth way too late. Why can't I realize that she needs a calm and respectful voice to help her understand the value of these efforts? She's not at the point in her life where she's become so aware of her power that she's decided to use it for frivolous crap yet and it's up to us to make sure that she never reaches that point. She's honest and embracing and she simply is seeking a gentle connection that will provide some comfort. She's using these actions and her babyish behavior to help create that connection. She's pushing our boundaries so that we will pay more attention to her and love her and give our parenting attention to her. She knows what our role is and she simply wants us to play our part.

But how does that help her grow? That's the question we always come back to after every decision we make during their shifting and evolving journey. Are we creating scenarios that are causing more damage in the long run just because it seems easier to do it this way now? There is a purpose behind the design of discipline. So how do we help Quinn understand that it's so important for her growth as a human being for her to try to put on her own clothes and to pick up the mess she's created? These are basic life lessons that all people need to discover because we've all seen those who never learned a thing about being responsible.

Quinn is different. You can't win trying to use the strong arm of the law with her. She needs a softer focus that respects her, that looks into her heart and reminds her of the power that she has within her. She knows it's there because she can bring it out any time she wishes. We just need to be patient with her so that she can take the next big step in her journey. When I watch her and talk to her and hold her and really open my heart to her, I know that once she does take these steps she is going to really grow in dynamic ways. She has so much potential and her will is so full.

43 Months (2)

Sometimes I find it hard to believe that I'm forty-years-old and that I have a seven-year-old son and a three-year-old daughter. But they're here and I'm still here and this little blog is still here, too. I look back on all of these entries that reflect my perspective on parenting and growing and learning about life and I'm stunned that this display has become so mature.

And despite all of my yearnings for empowerment and beauty and embracing the world around me with love, there are times I fall down into the nether-worlds of human behavior. I debase myself and the world around me with inferior lessons. We all do, at times, and our attempts to overcome this devilish nature that we have in ourselves is the ultimate struggle that we must face. It's been a long time since I completely lost myself to the foolish game of disrespectful behavior in order to escape the deep need for responsibility. Something I often did in my youth, instead of confronting the twisting feelings within me that I had such trouble understanding.

My current musing on these issues doesn't have anything to do with a confession that I'm about to make or revelatory pictures of stumbling blocks that I've recently had to overcome, but actually simply come down to this invisible barrier that I've recently crossed and which has occupied my mind of late. The dreaded forty-year-old line in the sand. Isn't this the time for a mid-life crisis? I say that with complete honesty but I'm not talking about the stereotypical mid-life crisis paths that we always see in our culture; divorce, sports car, cocaine, strip clubs and desperate rendezvous in the dark corners of our minds. I can't help but look at all of this from a different perspective.

The real reason I'm discovering this new attitude simply comes down to the fact that now that I'm actually forty-years-old, I feel responsible for the state of the world. I look around at everything that is going on around me and truly see this complex human interactive environment that we've created. I can do this simply because of human ingenuity, a truly amazing gift of our evolution, but when I really look at our society, I find that the picture that is currently being revealed isn't very beautiful at all. I'm not particularly proud of what we've built here in the 21st century. In fact, it really looks like the complete opposite of ingenuity, something truly ugly that tears down the monument of human endeavor. It's destructive in so many ways and terrifying to watch it unfold due to the causes of human behavior, due to causes I myself have made.

When you turn forty, you get to take responsibility for your life. I never realized that this was happening but suddenly I was very aware and tuned into the reality that my life was just as important as anyone else. My opinion and perspective on the world is just as important. This was always true, of course, but we are so often burdened by the false prophet of insecurity in this new modern culture that it is easy to lose faith in ourselves. Somehow, I suddenly don't worry about any of that now. Maybe it's because I don't have time to worry about that type of thing when I need to worry about providing for and teaching two little kids. So I've finally come to understand that that all of those messages of shame that we've received for so long are nothing but a distraction to pull us away from our true potential, a foolish symptom of a diseased society.

But that's why I think a mid-life crisis is in order. A new type of mid-life crisis. Something that I'm going to call a crisis vow. Because I believe that it is imperative that we as human beings shift our focus in life toward something meaningful. We are truly living in a time of crisis. There is great upheaval all around us, a tremendous conflict of disparity that is constantly on display. We cannot seem to escape the seething tremors of discord that envelope all of our human interaction and we are all looking for a new path out of the disastrous mess we've made of things. For me, it's a perfect time to reflect on my role as a human being in this life, right here and now. What can I do to make life enjoyable for myself and others?

So this is my crisis vow.

I vow to respond to the world around me in a way that provides value and I vow to confront the prejudices and negativity that seeks to hinder that value that I wish to create.

If each and every one of us base our lives on those two small determinations then we can change the course of tragedy that our society currently treads. If we begin with our hearts and follow with our minds then we have the ability to alter the destiny of humanity. We can change the way that we perceive value in this life. True value doesn't come from money or possessions but from the way we treat others. The only worth that we shall have once we are gone is what we have left behind, whether we are dead or have simply said goodbye. I can see this truth every day in the bright smiles upon my children's faces. How can we possibly say that we care about these precious beings when we continue to cut funding for education so that we can build more bombs? That is an example of the shameful way our society has turned away from humanity, something that I am finally coming to understand, now that I'm forty.

Yet, I know that we have so much to give, so much more that we can do for our society and for our children. I see it every day in so many ways. In the way a parent walks their child to school. In the care of preparing a hearty breakfast. In a hug, a touch, a smile. In the way that I feel so fortunate to have this life simply because others have made the effort to create this space that provides that fortune. We need to do that for our children. We need to do that so that the life of tomorrow is a place of happiness for all. That is the type of life that is worth creating. Not one that causes pain or destroys or preys on the weak. We've developed some bad habits that are causing us to further our own doom. We've allowed our devilish source to cause the destruction of the world, even if that only meant that we turned our heads when visions of atrocity came upon us. But no matter how blind we became, our hearts always understood the truth of such wicked games and once the heart knows, you can never find appreciation and gratitude within such ignorance.

I want to create an environment where we rediscover that sense of appreciation for our lives. That's why we are here, after all. So this is my mid-life crisis, a vow for discovery, a new perspective that shall enlighten tomorrow.

42 Months (dos)

"I love all the songs in the world!"

This is what Quinn tells me as we drive, while listening to Elliott Smith. I totally believe her. If anyone was capable of loving every song in the world, it would be Quinn. She has such enthusiasm for life that if she really wanted to embrace something as big as the concept of music across all genres and regions and forms and styles and agendas, then she has the energy and imagination to pull it off.

What a humongous heart she has! She often looks at the world through the rosy-tinted frames of love and beauty. When something touches her heart, she unabashedly exclaims how beautiful it makes her feel. When something is colorful or creative or gentle, then they are beautiful. When a song reaches her ears and caresses her little soul then she loves to tell me how beautiful that song is to her.

I love this so much, of course, because I'm constantly digging music in every possible way so that I can gleen some nourishment from the dancing dreams that float on the winds with the songbirds. I search for beauty in music and I search for drama and pleasure. I search for angst and anguish and yearning. I search for all of these things in songs because they are a special part of who I am and music can help me understand that aspect of my nature.

I think that Quinn just gets that. I think that she has a natural awareness that is so unique and honest that I often am simply amazed by the power of her expression. It's beautiful for me, as a parent, to see such hope flowing out of the eyes of my child. She has a wonderful hopeful belief in the world as a place of beauty and she wants to embrace it. When Quinn taps into that aspect of her nature then I am so profoundly proud and hopeful, as well. She may truly grow into a person who has the ability to settle into the center of the earth, where she is intricately aware of her connection to all things.

It's not easy to discover this special place. We are all searching for it in a way, a true understanding of our place in this life, this precious existence that we've come to know. The root of all spiritual journey comes back to discovering this amazing perspective where we are able to find a true expression of happiness that is not influenced by all of the distractions that occur around us, that occur within us. A place where we are immune to the waves that crash over our head, submerged within the peaceful blessing of life.

Then again, Quinn is just like any other kid in so many ways. She wants people to listen to her as if she were just as important as anyone else attempting to express the way that they feel. She desires the tempting displays of our culture, so much so that sometimes she'll fight for them. She gets frustrated and cries and struggles and wants to give up. She sulks like a little kid when she doesn't get what she wants.

But then she is a little kid! She's not even four-years-old yet. Sometimes it's so easy to forget that when you simply want some peace of mind at the end of the day. So she's not a perfect little angel in any sense of the word but there's something that I try to remember when it comes to the struggles that we have with certain aspects of our children that tend to drive us crazy. Everything about them (and us) can be nourished and turned into a powerful positive experience in this life.

And during those times when they claim to love every song in the world? Well, that's when we are getting an intimate glimpse into the amazing human potential that our children (and us) possess. Quinn, with her shimmering eyes so full of hope and delight, lets us in on so many secrets that reveal all of the inherent beauty of this earth and I am truly grateful that she has become a part of my life.


These are her songs, for the most part. I added a couple that remind me of her.

01. Margot & the Nuclear So and So's - Paper Kitten Nightmare
02. Luna - Moon Palace
03. First Aid Kit - Hard Believer
04. Gang Gang Dance - Sacer
05. Bonobo - Animals
06. Elliott Smith - Waltz #2
07. Jens Lekman - Your Arms Around Me
08. Glasser - Apply
09. Micah P. Hinson - Diggin A Grave
10. Rogue Wave - Catform
11. Josh Rouse - Sweetie
12. Lia Ices - Grown Unknown
13. Caroline - Pink Gloom
14. Emiliana Torrini - Bleeder

41 Months (part two)

So Quinn tells us a story regarding one of her past lives. She informs us that she used to be someone named Padresher and that she lived somewhere else, somewhere far away. In this other life she didn't live very long because she was burned in a fire and once she realized that her life was over, she came back to be with Mommy in this life. She didn't say these things with any sense of concern or fear or terror, though my initial reaction was something along those lines. In fact, when she spoke about being back with Mommy here in this life, she was expressing it as if she were very happy about it.

I have mixed feelings about these strange stories that come out of the children. For one, I am extremely intrigued and mesmerized by the incredible imagination that is flowing through their little brains. When they speak with the tongue of a storyteller, the worlds that they create are alive and beautifully detailed. It's an aspect of childhood that I recall vividly and that creative spirit has always been something that I loved to develop in my own life, as we can see on this very site. Plus, since I have a deep connection to these two little wonders of human existence, I also am quickly pulled into their narrative like a life-long fan. Even the seemingly ordinary happenings in their lives come across as interesting or amazing at times. They light up the world for me and that draws me into the story just as any good storyteller would.

But there are also aspects of these weird tales that make me wonder what is actually happening out there in the universe and in what way are we connected through time and space. I'm no physicist but I love to play one when I have the time to dream about the amazing wonders of the cosmos. Even though we know very little about our place as it relates to everything else in the universe and beyond, we are learning so much all of the time and many theories are constantly being examined that shed new light on many of our perceptions about what is actually going on in life. We don't know that reincarnation is true any more than we know of the existence of God. It's all speculative and strange and ethereal, so when people try to tell me that they absolutely know exactly how these theories play out, I always turn a skeptical head away and try to become enlightened in other meaningful ways or I attempt to engage them in rational dialog in order to come to a better understanding on the subject.

On the other hand, we have come to accept certain truths about the cosmos that have been verified by scientific observation throughout the ages. One of those truths is that energy never just disappears. Energy transfers from one form to another and the idea of nothingness is just latent energy that hasn't manifested in any physical way yet. When you turn off your light at night, the electricity doesn't just vanish along with the illumination. The energy circuit has been stopped via the light-switch on the wall but the power of that energy is still very much alive at that point of contact that has been broken by the switch. We perceive that the electricity has been shut off but the light has simply gone latent in anticipation of the switch being flipped back the other way.

What happens when the life-switch that is human energy is switched off? Where does that energy go? This is the eternal question humans have been wrestling with as long as the idea of death could be formed into a cohesive thought. The idea of reincarnation is that the energy from a human life has simply gone into a latent form waiting to manifest into a new existence, whatever that may mean? Is it actually possible that the energy entity that is Wade Pavlick could completely manifest into another human being that has some karmic connection to who I am in this life? Do I have some karmic connection to human beings that lived long ago, famous or not? Personally I don't think that energy manifests so concretely and obviously but I really don't know that much about it. I've read that our cells are actually transforming themselves through some micro-process of energy transfer manifestation in such a way that every ten years we are no longer physically the same people we were before. But we also are dragging along some form of karmic or habitual awareness with us so that, even if we are not physically the same, our brains are generally perceiving the world through similar eyes as the Wade from ten years ago. Or, as some may like to say, our souls have not changed. Our hearts and minds are still connected to that other entity.

Does that mean that I suddenly believe in reincarnation because my three-and-a-half year old daughter told me about a past-life existence? Of course not, but this isn't the first time that I've noticed strange occurrences that really have no plausible explanation. When our dog Mishu was about to give birth to puppies, Christina woke up in the middle of the night from a dream and immediately told me about it. One of the puppies was going to be black with beige spots on the face. Neither one of our dogs were black, Mishu being extremely blond and Schmokie carrying a light brown sandy coat. I didn't think much about it except for the fact that she was very descriptive regarding this future puppy that would soon be in our lives, which I was shocked to discover turned out to be true in exact form. I've had very strong instances of deja-vu that cannot be explained, as I'm sure anyone could also say. I've also often wondered why it is that we are attracted to certain people and repelled by others. Not just in a romantic way but just in every day interaction, such as having a conversation or watching how someone moves their body. I know that there may be some scientific explanation for all of this but sometimes it just feels more nuanced than that.

That doesn't mean that I'm going to go around spouting off about the absolute truth of the Flying Spaghetti Monster but my awareness of this life has been greatly altered by the two children who have entered into it in a very dramatic way. My life revolves around the three people in my life who have become my family. I have put a lot of energy into this family and that energy transfers through me with profound devotion. So when Quinn decides to explain to me, with complete earnestness, about a previous life as a human named Padresher, then I am going to listen with my whole being. Because there is very little in this life as precious as your own children expressing new ideas with their developing brains.

For all that we know, it may simply be an elaborate metaphor for the difficulties that she's facing and that her mother is the person who makes her feel the most safe right now. Or she may have been talking to Lucas about their life together and it may have awakened her to the unique dream of the ways humans interact with the universe.

40 Months (2)

"I'm a woman, too!"

Quinn says enthusiastically.

This comes from a story Christina tells me about taking Quinn to a Buddhist meeting for women. While listening to other women talk about their perspective of life, Quinn somehow made the connection that she was exactly like the rest of them and she decided to include herself in the discussion. To say that I wasn't surprised by her reaction is putting it mildly. This image of her is one that we see each and every day.

Quinn loves to be included with any situation and she will interject herself into the scene with confidence and understanding. She is remarkably aware of what people are talking about, even when it comes to an incredibly deep subject matter. Just her desire to understand is enough to make her presence known and at three-and-a-half, she is very smart and witty when it comes to expressing herself.

One aspect of life where she always identifies is her intimate connection to her gender. She is a girl and she won't hesitate to let you know all about it. Whether it's due to her color preference (pink) or what she finds beautiful in the natural world around her (the pretty flowers) or choosing a role model from our wonderful pop culture (Princess Leia), she doesn't want to just be one of the guys. Most of the other children who revolve around her world are boys but when she gets a chance to play with another girl, her excitement knows no bounds. It's very endearing to watch as she connects to her feminine spirit but it is something that also concerns me.

I think it is extremely important for Quinn to truly connect to the divine feminine reality of her life. To truly connect to your natural human experience is a powerful goal that all people should aspire toward in their lives. For my daughter, I can only hope and pray that we are able to help her find the correct path that leads her to a strong and healthy existence. I know how difficult it is for women to contend with all of the trappings of our culture and the perspective of beauty can quickly become twisted and fucking overwhelming. Despite that horrible reality I have great faith that Quinn has the power and passion to fight for what she believes in, as she does it on a daily basis right here in our home. Yet it is extremely important that we discover a way to help guide her so that she may have the wisdom to cut through all of the seductive bullshit that distorts our daily experience. She's going to be an intelligent little fiery furnace but she also is easily persuaded the moment her heart blooms at the first sign of the cutest little wonders of the world.

If you don't believe me, just come on over to our house with a kitten and watch her melt before your eyes.

She's still very young and can quickly break down if things aren't going exactly her way. She has a very sensitive heart, an affliction both of our children have but one that also allows them to be magnificent and beautiful creatures more often than not, so I can see her struggling when difficulties may arise. As a young woman in our society, there are going to be people who try to take advantage of her sensitive nature, who are going to try to steal her beauty from her. I know that it may seem too early to worry such things but we have to think about this stuff now because all of the devices that will trip her up ten to fifteen years from now are already in her environment. The forces of evil are already trying to persuade her to give up her power so that they may use her for their nefarious plots. Perhaps I'm a bit paranoid and sound like an over-protective father but it has nothing to do with control, except in the sense that I only wish for her to be in control of her own experience. The only way I know to provide some guidance in that direction is to work every day harder than the day before because one day she will no longer turn her ear in my direction as acutely as she does now and this crucial message may not have the force it does today.

But there's more ways to help her learn than bombarding her with words. I've expressed before my great desire for Quinn to grow up a feminist, to believe her relationship to the rest of the people around her to be one based on equality regardless of gender. I continue to bring it up because it is something that I am constantly struggling with as a man who sometimes gets trapped by those tempting snares our society displays on a continuous basis. If I am going to have any success with my attempts to raise my wonderful daughter in the best way possible, I am going to have to change the prejudice that flows through my blood. I am going to have to become an extraordinary human example of beauty that Quinn may admire. Maybe then she will be able to believe in her fellow human citizens even when life drops a few dark clouds of disorder over her head. Maybe then she will be able to raise her head to the sky and declare with all her heart that she is a woman who is stronger than any attempt of confusion that may come her way.

39 Months (the second)

The incident almost happened. The one most feared by parents, cutting straight through your bones just thinking about it. The one of nightmares that may languish the rest of your life if it were to ever come true. The one that reaches into your heart with the icy devilish touch of dismay and terror. No one who has ever felt a moment of love for a child would welcome the event that happened at casawex and we were the lucky ones.

Quinn loves to eat with gusto, cramming her food into her mouth without regard for the capacity of that orifice. We often find ourselves shaking our heads at the comic display of her attempts to masticate a congealed blob of savory goodness that easily may veer off into an unsavory spectacle; food spat on the ground or pulled out then shoved in your general direction or choking. More than once we've had to encourage her to slow down and enjoy her food but it's difficult to get through to a three-year-old sometimes.

Shockingly, the incident didn't arise because of overabundance of food but I'm sure the grape arrived in her throat due to an eager carelessness that surrounds our lovely daughter when it comes to meal times. I don't even know how it all began because I was casually lounging in the other room enjoying a good book as the day was fading from view. All I heard was Christina asking Quinn if she was okay. This is a common question that we ask of Quinn, from her typical crying reaction when she doesn't get what she wants to common toddler mishaps to brotherly bratiness, so I wasn't concerned. Until I heard the concern in my wife's voice. Then it escalated very quickly once we all realized that the reason Quinn wasn't responding was because she wasn't breathing.

We've had moments with both Lucas and Quinn where you freeze for an instant because you think, Is my child choking right now?, then they invariably start breathing a second or two later. When I went over to check out the situation, I quickly realized that this wasn't going to correct itself of its own accord. If we didn't want Quinn to die, we were going to have to do something about it.

Let me just say that I either don't know how to do the Heimlich Maneuver or it just doesn't work with a three-year-old. While panic began to escalate around the room; with Lucas running in fear as both his parents voices and breathing reached tremulous levels and as Christina pounded out 911 on the telephone; the only thought in my head was that I could take care of this. I don't know why I thought this, because I have never been in a situation where I had to help someone to breathe again. I also have been known to become overwhelmed with confusion during extremely stressful moments, even though during normal tasks I always feel very comfortable handling whatever comes my way. Though this was far from an ordinary situation I did find myself responding with confidence rather than confusion and I felt that if I just take one step forward, I would be able to accomplish this crazy and terrifying task.

Step One: The Heimlich Maneuver.

I got down on a knee, turned her around, put one fist into her stomach and proceeded to push upward. Each time I did this it felt absolutely ineffective, which turned out to be true because nothing was happening. I pushed and pushed, each time harder and harder, waiting for that revelatory moment when the grape would expel violently from her mouth and we could all breathe a sigh of relief. Nope. Nothing happening.

So then I thought, Well, every time I saw the Heimlich in action, the person was using two hands. This seemed like it wouldn't work on Quinn's little stomach, which was why I only used one hand to begin with, but we were getting toward a minute or so without breathing so the stakes were going higher and higher in this poker match. I reached around with both hands, pushed my chest against her back and lifted with all the strength that I had in me, while still taking care for her safety, of course. We didn't want any broken ribs in the process. I pulled and pulled and pulled and pulled, her feet now completely off the ground, all to no avail. Nothing was coming out of her mouth.

With my heart pounding more and more desperately, all I could think was, How is this even possible?

Step Two: Reevaluate The Situation.

Whatever you do, you cannot panic at this point because it could easily spiral out of control but I have to admit that I was definitely starting to panic at this point. The strangest thing about it though was that Quinn was completely calm, so much so that I had to put her down and look closely at her. Maybe she wasn't really choking after all. She could stand on her own two feet, looked right at me with no fear in her eyes, so I asked her if she was all right. No response. I've heard that people who drown reach a point where everything descends into complete serenity, almost as if they accept the moment filling them with calmness. Now, I don't know if that was happening to Quinn but she was very mellow about the entire situation, the only one in the entire house who could say that. Even Mishu was probably stressing out.

But then I looked closely at her and I could see the skin around her mouth was turning purple. And her forehead was as white as a sheet. And Christina was saying into the phone, "She's not breathing! Oh mt god! She's turning blue!"

This was the moment of despair for me. I immediately imagined Quinn dying in my arms and it was the most terrifying thought that I have ever experienced in real time. That instant I was overwhelmed with the horror of it all but fortunately my brain or body did not shut down.

Step Three: Do Whatever It Takes

Sometimes, to diffuse a situation you have to be as honest about what is actually happening as possible. I've seen people stand forth during such incredible confrontation that all ulterior motives vanish and the raw truth of the experience shines anew. I only knew one thing, my daughter was dying because a grape was stuck in her throat. The only way I could think of getting it out was to reach down and take it out. I figured I would either pull it out or squash it so that the juices would make her cough it out or throw it up. I have no idea if this is foolish and if this story may cause others to attempt what I did causing a deleterious effect. All I knew was that I had to get that grape out.

So I reached in and immediately could feel the obstruction. It wasn't far down and my finger was long enough. Yet, when I felt it, I forced myself to stop for just a second. This was difficult to do because it seemed at this point every second counted but I knew that if I didn't do this correctly, I would be regretting it for the rest of my life. I felt the grape, massaged it. How stuck was it? I turned out that it was actually just kind of resting in a bowl like depression at the top of her throat but it was just too big to come out. It had squeezed into this small space but it wasn't jammed in there.

I delicately began to work my finger around the edge of the grape until I could tell that I had enough leverage to yank it out. So that's what I did. Then I presented a mucus swathed grape toward Christina, who was still on the phone.

"I got it!"

I had saved my daughter's life by reaching in and taking the grape out of her mouth. It sounds so simple but it was the most traumatic two minutes of my life. Christina was so happy that tears were streaming out of her eyes. Relief poured out of us with joy in our exhausted hearts. We were the fortunate ones who didn't have to tell another story that only brought grief with each telling.

Quinn, meanwhile, was acting like nothing had happened to her. Still serene, she sat back down at the table and began to eat more grapes.

38 Months (the second)

(Don't know what this picture has to do with the post below but I just love it! Nanna, Quinn, Lucas & Nonno)


Quinn is doing her business on the potty! So excited by this wonderful development. I was telling a friend of ours the song we sing to Quinn every time she drops one in her pants, let's just say that the title to the song is "Quinnita Poopy Pants", and I felt embarrassed by two things - first the fact that I'm singing such a demeaning song to my three-year-old just so she'll feel ashamed and go in the potty doesn't help me feel better about myself, and 2nd that she's still fighting the inevitable tide of time and the reality that, yes goddamnit, she is capable of controlling herself.

Well, she has made the leap and you never found two happier parents than those who are living at CasaWex. The greatest part about it is that Quinn was the one who decided. We encouraged her as much as possible, hinting and asking again and again if she might just be ready for that important next step, but she never would take the bait. She was always very confident enough with herself to simple reject any advancement that we made on the subject. One thing Quinn has going for her is that when she puts her mind to it, that subject is closed. She won't budge an inch once that stubborn aspect of her nature kicks in. So Christina and I were extremely relieved when she became open to the sitting on that toilet.

It all started in San Francisco...hey isn't that where Lucas was potty-trained? I'm just going to put out this little tip for all of the parents out there in the world. We had absolutely no clue how to potty train either one of our children, and you would think that we might of learned something after the first child, but they were completely different people and so our experience with Lucas didn't translate toward Quinn. BUT! and a very big but it is right here, the one common ingredient we had with both of them is a relative that they both looked up to and respected who caused the shame of dirty diapers to finally register within their little minds. As a parent, it is very important to find these influential people that will affect your children in profoundly positive ways. These mentors in life are vital for a child's growth and finding the right person for the right situation is a very delicate matter for a parent to ponder. When it came to the toilet, both Quinn and Lucas needed their Uncle Rick.

Like I said earlier, it's truly strange the things we parents do in order to shame our children. Our behavior can be pretty childish at times and these kids are way smarter than we give them credit. My poopy-pants song had absolutely no effect whatsoever but I stuck to my guns and went right on singing because I felt that I knew what was right in this situation. But, of course, I was the one who didn't have a clue and even though I managed to get a reaction at times (yeah, it upset her now and then), ultimately she totally ignored me. Yet, all it took was having her Uncle's keen eye pointed in her direction and Quinn was convinced that the potty was her new best friend.

We parents can be so convinced that the life-lessons we constantly impart upon our children are the greatest gifts we can give, better than any toy or movie or adventure that their heart desires. That may be true to an extent because a lot of the crap they want doesn't really provide much value but that doesn't mean that our arrogant perspective always provides the wonder that we imagine, as well. The most important thing we can remember is the motivation behind our actions. Isn't that the same type of advice we're always trying to impart on them? I suppose that there are times when we need to stop giving advice and start listening to it instead.

There is a time to be strict and there is a time when you have to listen to your heart. We need to see these children as unique and beautiful and intelligent creatures. When our hearts are open to their amazing potential then we have the ability to understand how we can guide them toward that picturesque tomorrow we all have in our minds. But that wonderful place we've come to imagine for them isn't for us. We aren't the ones who are going to live there. So that means that we have to get over ourselves and truly find a selfless place inside. This second potty training experience has reminded me that my ego really isn't that important, especially when it comes to interacting with a three-year-old. Another life-lesson, after all.

Through it all I am extremely (hands waving in the air) happy about Quinn's step toward liberating herself from diapers. As my good friend Mark once told me, "Changing diapers is one aspect of parenthood that you don't miss once it's gone."

37 Months (part deux)

It's interesting to look at Quinn's part of this journal as the second time around and not think that she is doomed to a perpetual perspective of being compared to Lucas. Is she threatened by that natural awareness? Does it motivate her to push her limits so that she can expand beyond that perspective? How can I help her with this phenomenon? Is it even really a phenomenon or am I thinking about it way too much?

I was an only child for so long that I only knew one selfish identity. Even when I was fortunate enough to have the siblings that I longed for, I didn't understand how to communicate anything but my own superiority. I didn't learn to appreciate what was given to me and after awhile that made me feel even more shame than I had ever felt on my own. It was a strange and difficult period for me, but not once throughout the entire process did I ever see the world through the same type of lens that Quinn is looking through now. I was always the oldest and I always felt that I had the most power.

Quinn may feel like she has the power at times but she will always be the younger sibling, the one who didn't have the eyes of her parents focused strictly on her. My only hope is that she doesn't find any of it burdensome. I have always striven to find the strength in me to help my children share in the wondrous dynamic of family, as equally as possible. I know that it doesn't always work out that way but that is the ideal home life Xtina and I wish to create for them. Hopefully we'll manage to help her develop her own identity along the way. Quinn will eventually find the truth of her own place one way or another but it's our job as parents to get her their as quickly and cleanly as possible. Each of us has the power to do magical things in this life, to tap into an unlimited potential within us that helps us find our own voice in this grand experience.

Sometimes I don't worry too much about her when I imagine her unlimited potential. Quinn does have incredible strength within her and she doesn't mind sharing it with us the older she gets. She told me the other day that she was going to be six next year, that she's three going on six! I believed her! She has the energy to grow that much in such a short time and I wouldn't bet against her when it mattered. She has a presence that you gravitate toward and if you don't gravitate over there, she's gonna grab your chin and make sure you're watching.

And there's something about her voice, a confidence that overwhelms everything in the room sometimes. She's becoming her voice, she's learning about it and discovering the power of it. The way that we communicate to others is such a clarifying expression of who we are and Quinn is beginning to see the words that are coming out of her mouth and, along with it, the awareness of the power that those words create. At times she may still be a mimic, she has interesting teachers after all, and she may revert into confusion and simplicity, but she is definitely starting to play her song. I must admit that I am really enjoying the composition as she continuously tweaks it, as it evolves along with her personality. One day it will be a beautiful Aria and it will be hers alone, comparable to no one.

3 Years (the second time around)

So our Quinnita is a little girl now. No more baby talk, no more boob juice, no more naps (at least that seems to be what she wants). The last thing on the list, which she's fighting hard against, is no more diapers! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhuuuuuhhhhhhhhh (the great sigh). Yes, the moment parents always look forward to, an aspect of child-rearing that vanishes without regret. It's one part of babydom that I will not miss. The only problem is that it doesn't seem to be an issue that is quite as important to Quinn.

As we all know, Quinn has come to us with a powerful mind. She is a determined little tyke when she wants to be and when it comes to diapers, she is not willing to budge just yet. Since three seems to be the marking post for potty training, Christina and I have looked forward to this day with a sense of relief but as each day passed and Quinn's birthday grew nearer, nothing was changing. Even after all of the completely useless comments from those who came before that informed us how much easier it was with girls. Ha! There was no seismic shift occurring in our little girl. So we decided to play hardball with her and lay the law down with an iron fist. Uhhhmmm, that was a mistake.

I have never seen someone fight so hard and with such determination over a potty. That girl decided that she was not going to use the potty and there was nothing that we were going to do about it. We even got to the point where we were able to hold her on it (taking both adults to one three-year-old) but I was amazed at Quinn's stamina. The energy she was expanding out to stop us from making her sit on the potty was incredible. We finally just gave up, both of us exhausted, and sat back to think about our next move. Turns out that neither one of us wanted to go through something like that ever again with either her or Lucas.

So Quinn is not going to potty train until she is good and ready, which I guess was what she wanted in the first place if we had just listened to her. I know that it is going to be an interesting journey with her. We've had our moments with Lucas but he's just more agreeable when it comes to our program. He moans and groans and yells at us sometimes but he'll eventually drop his head and fake his way through it at least. It appears that Quinn is going to be an entirely different kid altogether. That means that we have to get creative with helping her grow accustomed to our brilliant outlook on parenting...er, life. I do not want to be in one of those scenes when she's fourteen and we're trying to force her to do something against her will. Even if it's something good for her, it won't be a pretty picture.

I simply don't want to have that type of relationship with her, anyway, and I know Christina isn't up for it. I can hardly imagine the two of them going head-to-head. It's going to be an interesting ride for sure. One based on intelligence and reason over physical or psychological pressure. It's going to have to come from our hearts so that she will understand that we are only interested in her well-being. It's a message that somehow must pierce straight into her heart because when she's thoughtful and aware, she's truly a remarkable little being. In a way, I'm looking forward to it, even though I know that it's bound to tire me at times, but I have hope that the process will become a nurturing and respectful genesis of love that will remind us why we ever decided to become parents in the first place.

Happy Birthday, Quinnie!

35 Months (the second)

Christmas has come to CasaWeX and Quinn is loving it. She has an older brother who encourages her indulgences at every opportune moment so it's not very surprising that she is already aware of the yuletide spirit. She hasn't quite reached the point where she counts all of her presents (like someone else we know) but she loves to get excited and hates to be let down so the holidays has lifted her spirits.

I really love this age because she's so expressive and her energy comes from so many different angles. She loves pink but she plays with hot wheels. She loves movies so much that she gets angry when you turn it off, like you're truly disappointing her. She'll heartily eat something one day only to reject it the next. Her brother can make her cry in a moment, then a few minutes later she's making him cry because she fights back so ferociously. She has a couple of dolls that lie around but you can't get her kitty-cat out of her hands without a scream. Her nuances are so innate right now, that it's interesting to figure out what it is that is going to keep her attention at any given moment.

But she does love cats. It's such a shame that her Nonno is allergic because a little kitten would've been a really great present for Christmas this year. She told me the other day that she wanted to go to the kitty jail and look at the cats. Apparently she checked out the Humane Society's page in the newspaper that shows you all the pictures of the dogs and cats that need to be adopted. Her Nanna also has a big heart for animals and they probably sit together and pick out all of the cutest ones.

Well, since we couldn't get a real cat for Christmas, Christina did some of her magic and found the most awesome pink stuffed cat named Gaspar. It was the perfect gift, being both pink and a cat. At least that's what we thought. Quinn likes it enough but it has yet to replace her original kitty-cat and with all of the other gifts that descended upon our wonderful abode this holiday season, it seems that Gaspar has gotten a little lost in the shuffle.

The amount of presents are just one aspect of the holidays that create such frenetic tension this time of year. The party's are another. Both Christina and I have rather large families and the gatherings can expand beyond normal consciousness. We've had moments where it felt like we could hardly breathe as the chaos rang around us. Lucas and Quinn would probably love to go to all of them and gorge themselves with all the holiday cheer but there's only so much sanity that can be contained in us parents. We do what we can and this year we decided to go over to my Mom's family affair on Christmas day, something we haven't done for awhile now.

We had a moment a few years ago where we felt rejected by the theme of the season and all of its religious fervor. This is definitely not the time of year for guilt of any kind, we can get enough of that by looking back on all the things we didn't accomplish over the past year, and those dogmatic personalities who try to label everything for everyone else have the ability to push people away. Well, we left for awhile and on our way back, I started thinking about the true purpose of the season. For me, it comes down to the spirit of generosity and appreciation that is inherent in the way we embrace one another during this time of year. We share with one another and give to one another and open our homes and expand our communities. These are the aspects of the holidays that I wanted to perceive and I could feel it blooming within me as I thought about everyone in my life.

On the days that I feel like I'm a good parent, I know that I am actively participating in my children's lives. I listen to them and embrace them. I offer them opportunities to grow and learn. When we do that with the people around us, whether they be family or friends or neighbors or co-workers, then we are being good people. We are truly connecting with the spirit of the season.

The kids had fun at my Aunt's house, of course. They played with their cousins and ran around like mad little people, something I remember fondly about Christmas gatherings of the past. Quinn was the sweetest, she being the only girl amongst six boys. She kept up with them for most of the evening but whenever the boys would get swallowed up by the hand-held-game-vision thingies that everyone but our kids have nowadays, she would vanish. I found her in the playroom with the real toys, her favorite being a wood kitchen cabinet set that was just her height. It was such a beautiful moment to stand in the doorway and see her cooking up a meal for herself simply using her imagination. Guess I know what to get her for her birthday.

34 Months (deux)

Quinn has reached the age of the terrible twos. Yes, she has been terrific for some time now but more and more often nowadays, her incessant whine tends to take over. She's a stubborn little chicken. We thought Lucas was stubborn in his younger years but that kid has nothing on my Quinnita. If she doesn't want to do something, then you are simply out of luck. You can fight her and try to push her around or threaten her and take her prize blankie away, that girl will not give it up without screeching at the top of her lungs. During those moments of wear, it's a struggle to say the least.

We called them the terrific twos for Lucas and it took a year for us to reach the terrible part (are we still going?). I guess we're getting close to three with Quinn so maybe she's just an early developer. I'm hardly surprised because we knew that she was going to let us know how she felt right from the get-go. It can be frustrating at times, especially when she doesn't want to say goodbye to you as if you were the least of all her worries. Try to get a kiss or a hug out of her before stepping out the door, once she's made up her mind that you ain't getting one, and it's a struggle. Yet, at those times when you need a straight answer out of her, you know that what she's telling you is the absolute truth. It's refreshing to have that because that's how we are trying to teach our children to communicate and those lessons are a burdensome competetion against a false and secretive culture.

I've always had a difficult time being open and honest with my feelings. One of the reasons that I fell in love with Christina was that she was so honest herself and she demanded that I give her that same respect back. I'd been able to squirm my way through life, never actually getting caught under the hammer but I really needed to challenge that aspect of my personality in order to grow into a more complete human being, which was something that I truly longed for but never had much guidance toward up until then. So when we took the plunge into the deep end of the pool, whether or not we even knew how to swim, and placed these children on our shoulders, we were either going to drown and take their souls down with us or we would learn how to tread water and buoy their lives. I immediately made a determination to be honest with them about the truly important details of life. They needed to trust me and I had to follow that up with action. Honesty lies in our hearts and the more that I open my heart to Christina and the children, the more we form together into a cohesive family unit that is comfortable and secure with one another. That's all I want from them. They may not always come to me with smiles upon their faces and I may not always have the exact words that they need for whatever they're dealing with but the more that I can provide my true self for their benefit, then the outcome will be one of comfort.

Quinn can be a stubborn as she wants to be, as far as I'm concerned. It's going to be a struggle for me and Christina to deal with at times but when that hard shell of arrogance sheds away and her soft nature needs a shoulder to cry on, I hope that I have helped create an environment where she knows that she only has to turn my way and my arms will be wide open.

33 Months (the second)

The next topic that I wish to delve into regarding my lovely daughter is one that often frightened me greatly from the moment we found out that she was a girl. Quinn is obsessed with the color pink. It is by far her favorite color and I have no idea how to stop it!

We've always been very clear about our disdain regarding the gender specific brainwashing that is so pervasive in our culture and how much we wish to bring up our children in an environment that is free from these evil forces. It's a prominent problem in the landscape of capitalistic amerika and if you don't believe me then go into your local toy store and have a look around. It's absolutely disgusting and every time it's reinforced I find myself doing everything in my power to offset the demonizing source, which doesn't seem to be having much of an effect so far.

Everywhere I turn with my daughter in tow, it's "I want to wear that pick outfit" or "I want the pink bag" or "Pink is my favorite, Daddy". She does tend to compromise a little bit if I suggest something in purple. Pink or purple, that's it. She humors us with some of the outfits we make her wear but if the choice is hers, then it's definitely pink.

I have no idea where she gets it from either. We don't let her watch any shows that might influence her one way or the other. If we do then it's something that will express gender neutralization as much as possible. It's almost like it's an inherent part of who she is, some extreme form of karma that I can't explain. It's not like she gravitates toward all things gender specific. She's not really interested in dolls, tending to play with Lucas's hand-me-down cars more often than anything that could be considered girly. She does have a stroller but she loads it up with her kitty-cat stuffed animals, which are very pretty neutral beyond the fact that she likes cats and Lucas likes dogs. Not sure if that's a common differentiation at this age or not. It just seems like all of this pink affinity was like a bolt of lightning that came down to inform Quinn's personality.

At the turn of the 19th century it was the exact opposite. Pink was considered a boys color and blue was often used for girls. Somewhere along the line this changed and in the modern day, pink has become heavily associated with girls. It all boils down to an intense form of marketing that is geared toward creating division amongst us so that we will buy as much stuff as possible. If pink is not accepted per the masculinity standards of our future men, then we have to buy more clothes for our children if they happen to be of different gender. Now, Christina and I don't follow along with these marketing standards and have never had an issue with dressing Quinn in Lucas's old clothes. We've even gotten comments to this day about our beautiful little cherubic young lad. It's meaningless at this point and I could care less whether total strangers are aware of the gender of my children.

That's what makes this infatuation that Quinn has all the more infuriating. She's either totally aware of the kids around her, which really wouldn't surprise me because she is very keen on other aspects of life, or someone has been secretly subverting our parental guidance. There's a few suspects that I have in mind but I don't have enough evidence to convict them entirely, plus I still trust them enough to give them the benefit of the doubt. So, that means I'm back to where I began, completely at a loss about my daughter's mysterious obsession.

Perhaps I need to get over my own obsessions. Maybe my utter devotion to molding them into a force of individualism and humanism doesn't have to be imposed on every aspect of their life. Maybe their instinctive desires and attitudes should develop without so much guidance from above. They already are growing up in a world that is completely fresh from the one that we grew up in and they will evolve in ways that we will be completely unaware. Perhaps there is a way for me to twist this misguided form of gender division. My own father used to act like a complete goof at times in order to show us the folly of many of our childish concerns. It wasn't always the most effective means to get a point across but I remember many of those embarrassing moments to this day and they often bring a smile to my face. I suppose I'll have to find a way to adopt the color pink in a way that shows the useless attention we create in our culture that only divide us from our basic human tendencies. Not in a way that will embarrass her or make her dislike me, but in a way that helps her evolve into a more comfortable human being regardless of the color adorning her body.

32 Months (part two)

So many questions about our culture have arisen since I've become a parent, things that I never thought about before. That's what comes from giving a damn about the future and what kind of world will be around when we are gone. I mean, there are always reasons for us to care and there were people in my life that meant enough to warrant my concern but I was completely content with my simple existence and thoughts about tomorrow were often just not in the equation. It's a selfish mentality and one that is absorbed in our society on a frequent basis and it's gotten to be so damn infuriating.

Eventually I married Christina and this deep-seated selfishness expanded to include another. Then I began to study and practice Buddhism, which has as one of its important tenets the idea that our lives don't exist in a vacuum, that our happiness is tethered to the happiness of those around us. We cannot live comfortably and appreciate our existence if everyone else in our environment is miserable. If crime is rampant in our society then we will live in fear and our lives will decay. While if people are helping one another, sharing with their neighbors then the quality of life for everyone expands and blossoms. It's not a complicated message, one that most religions employ as a basic philosophical understanding of its faith, but it is one that is completely at odds with what drives our economy. When I began to put someone else's importance up on the same level as my own importance, which is basically the only way a partnership or relationship can work, that's when my heart began to grow and I realized how I had been unhappy for a very long time.

Well, now I have two beautiful children and there are three other people who I must elevate to equal importance as myself in order to have a cohesive and wonderful environment within my home. So I've begun to look at everyone in my family through that rose-colored tinted perspective and it's wonderful and amazing to view them with such love. My heart grows every time they enter the room. My capacity expands every time Quinn asks me why (trying so hard to temper my aggravation when she asks it fifteen times in a row). My smile widens when Lucas shows me how much he's learned in only a day. The heart of the family is a fabulous bubble to envelop yourself within, warm when it's cold outside and tender when life wants to tear you down.

I guess the true gift of being alive is to immerse yourself in this type of feeling as much as possible. I could have done it when I was single, instead of working the system or taking advantage of others, thinking that I was getting nourishment by sucking down their essence with a straw while giving nothing back. I don't really know why I didn't, not sure where I got onto the wrong track but it doesn't take a whole lot of encouragement once you look around at the world around us. Greed is an enormous monster in this culture and the root of our problems probably lie in how we simply take it for granted. That's just the way that it is and we've been told the lie for our entire lives about the majestic wonder of it all. Yet, once we accept it as a given then it becomes a part of our soul...GREED, a guiding principle in our life, in our society, regardless of the waste that it causes.

I don't want that to be the legacy that I leave for my kids. I don't want those lower instincts to control their lives. I'm afraid to think of my little girl making decisions based on the hunger aspect of her nature. Knowing her, she would probably come out fighting and striving and making quite a name for herself...but would she be happy? I'd much rather show her how to use her wisdom, to tap into the delicate heart of her compassion and bolstered with the dynamic courage that she already possesses, have her change the world with a gigantic smile on her face. And what a smile it is.

We have an obligation to the children of tomorrow, always have whether those children belong to us or not, because the lives that they live are the result of our commitment to this existence. Everything that is going on in the world today is a testament to those who came before us. The mire that we wallow in is due to the fact that too many people didn't care enough about us to matter. Sure, there are things that I appreciate and when I think about my mother and father I want to hug them and cherish them, but there's too much ugliness in this world and now that I am a parent, it's becoming so damn obvious that I can no longer pretend that it doesn't exist. We can't simply close our eyes and wish it away. We have an obligation to make it go away.

31 Months (part two)

I like the way Quinn says certain words right now. She's very clear but still has that baby warble in her throat. She's speaking in confident sentences but the slur between words keeps her indelible baby cuteness intact. Sure, our kids will always be cute to us, even when they grow into their awkward-moody-snarky-teenage selves that I've been warned to fear many times over (I'll try to check back here in a few years just to make sure that I actually just wrote that line) but there's something incredibly cute about babies, especially your own.

Quinn is right in those tweener years where she still clings to some baby tendencies but where she also seems to grow up a little every single day. Next month she'll be light years ahead of today and in a couple more years she and Lucas will have their own ways of communicating that we won't even understand. Only then will I truly appreciate the ways she talks to me now.

She's so adorable, so earnest when she determines to let you in on one of her secrets. She'll even grab your face if you try and turn away from her while she is engaging in conversation with you (like I said, cute at two-and-a-half, maybe not so much at thirteen). But I get the feeling that she just likes to interact with people, to share in the exchange of information and engage in the social game that we all play. She is very observant and our home isn't one filled with much passive entertainment, especially when it comes to our kids. I don't know how many times I've heard myself say the type of thing I would've hated to hear my own parents say to me, like, "There's plenty of stuff to do if you use your imagination." And I suppose that I chuckle at it all now but I was the type of child that used my imagination and I still enjoy the need to come up with creative ways to keep me entertained. Some of us don't want to rent twenty movies every weekend (yes, I see those people at the video store, too) and give up our lives to the collective desire of entrepreneurs to leech away our time. Some of us enjoy learning how to play the violin or writing a novel or making a movie or painting or even reading a book, spending a quiet moment in the fascination of the mind.

We often spend evenings together with family or friends and, with a beverage in hand, chat the night away, soft sounds keeping rhythm in the speakers. It's a delight to share this time with others and have sincere dialogue with one another. Also, a couple of times a month, we have Buddhist meetings in our home where we chant and share with one another some of our thoughts about the conditions of our lives (minus the beverage and music, of course). Both Quinn and Lucas are very aware of these gatherings and often run through with their loud play or sometimes they even sit quietly on our laps as the interesting conversation swirls around them. We don't pretend to be something else with them either, to prop up our lives in a fantastic way. This is the environment that they are going to grow up in.

The other day Lucas told me that he doesn't like to talk. I was dumbfounded because he has the tendency to be very talkative. Then when I asked him what he meant, he told me that he rather be playing than talking. Well, I thought that he talks when he plays all the time, creating storylines with his cars or playing a game with Quinn, and that's what I said to him. He told me, emphatically, "No, I mean when we just sit around and don't do anything else but talk." It made me laugh, of course, but I was also a little sad that Lucas is already distancing himself from our living room conversational atmosphere. Yet, I have a strong feeling that Quinn will not feel that way once she gets old enough to interact with all of us on a more equal plain. She has a tremendous confidence and I am constantly amazed by her intricate awareness of the world around her. I know that Lucas will pull her away for awhile and they will have that space that only belongs to them but eventually our little Quinny will be pulled back into the thick of it and she'll espouse fluently on all the topics of the day...just like her Mommy.

30 Months (part 2)

I'm outnumbered.

There are days when two-against-one is too much for me. It's not like they intentionally team up on me (not yet anyway) but just their combined energy has me completely overwhelmed. I go in with the best intentions, a great father outing prepared for them, something along the lines of a light lunch or simply a trip to the park, and everything is perfectly beautiful. You know, you have the sun cascading through the trees and the blue sky blanketing your idyllic moment, a cup of coffee in your hand, maybe a double because 2 plus five equals 7 and 39 divided by 7 will never add up to the amount of energy that you need to keep up with those two rascals, then you calmly sit down and try to enjoy the afternoon. Before you know it, the sun has lowered in the sky and a cool wind has lifted, caressing your delicate bones and you can't remember what it was that you did that made you so freaking exhausted.

Xtina always mentions a basic fact to new mothers who are in our social awareness, "It's amazing how so many of the difficulties with children boils down to them simply being tired." "Ahhhhh, she must need a nap" is often a common phrase we utter here in our home, as well. But it still always surprises me when it feels like it's just my brain that is tired. Can I please just have a moment where I'm not required to answer a question that I'm sure I already answered many times or read a book or settle a dispute or keep an eye out for unsettling behavior or set up the bath or practice violin or get some food in them that they will tolerate or...yeah, I could go one forever.

I remember being very specific about wanting more than one child but it wasn't like we totally planned it that way. Lucas was wonderful and easy in many ways, but no matter how much you like to fool yourself, it's damn hard taking care of that baby the first couple of years. Then you think, "Oh yeah, they're potty trained and becoming more self-sufficient, it's going to get easier." But with self-sufficiency comes a growing confident awareness that enjoys puffing out that magnificent chest. It never gets easier, who am I really fooling with that kind of talk? I knew that we were doubling our workload with Quinn but I didn't care at the time. Lucas needed a sibling. I knew that more than anything else but there are certain ramifications that come with such a narrow-minded focus.

I guess that we simply have to accept the responsibility that we've taken upon ourselves, perfectly willingly, of course. I'm really good at that when it comes to the rest of my life. I don't dwell on the inconvenient situations that arise with indignation in my heart. I just deal with it and move on because I can't control the entire world. I don't have that kind of power just yet. And I know that I don't have the power to corral my kids in a tiny cage either, nor do I want that type of relationship with them. Apparently I need to muster some inner resolve and develop my strength, so that I have the ability to influence them in the most positive way, without losing my mind in the process.

It's a push that began almost six years ago and was doubled three-and-a-half years later and it keeps moving forward. It keeps striving, which is what I always tell Lucas and Quinn when the burden to quit presses down on their heads. I suppose that I need to take my own advice and find new ways to encourage myself when an overwhelming clutch tries to shut down my own brain, because I don't want to look back on these years and have one ounce of regret.

29 Months (parte deux)

There are days where I find it difficult to understand that I am THE DAD. Just the sound of it in my ears is strange. I remember when I was a child and my parents seemed so mature, carrying so much of an adult identity. They were an omniscient presence and the idea of becoming that person was completely foreign to me. Sometimes I still feel that way.

Sure, I grew up and realized that my parents actually weren't all that mature when I was little and in fact were probably less adult than I am today. They had me when they were twenty, so that just goes to show how developed they were whilst raising me. Don't get me wrong, they weren't nightmare parents in any sense but I know how I was when I was in my mid-twenties and raising a child in a healthy manner probably would have been a difficult task for me to handle. They made some mistakes and learned a little along the way and hopefully they have fond memories of that shy boy who somehow always had a smile on his face.

So this idea of parenthood as it pertains to me has been sticking in my mind lately, like a catchy pop tune that rolls around just long enough to become annoyed by it. So just as I was getting annoyed with my shock at my current DAD label, I started to reflect on what it all meant to me as a person, not just as a parent. This idea of family has become a permanent presence for us and I didn't realize until recently that it has completely changed our perspective...on everything.

Awhile ago, when we first were overwhelmed by Lucas, I had this vision of a great fire burning over the hillside and destroying everything in its path. Lucas, Xtimu and I just waited for it to come and consume us but I wasn't afraid of it. I was in awe of it and I knew that it symbolized a massive change that was occurring in our lives. I had no idea what new sprouts would come forth from that ravaged landscape but I've always tried to have hope and strive toward being a positive influence during this journey that we are sharing together.

Now we have Quinn as well and sometimes the storm is bigger than anything I've ever experienced. Even though it may be frightening at times, we all seem to be conquering this fear and even are delighted by the experience sometimes. The unknown and scary adventure also has its attractive qualities, imagination brings forth our best qualities. Yet, no matter what were going through at each and every moment of this crazy experiment, we are totally different people from who we were five years ago. I don't even recognize that person.

The best and grandest part of it all is that we are a family. What does that mean? I guess that's what I'm trying to understand with my awareness of DAD status. It means so many different things to so many different people, no? But for me I truly believe that it has helped me become a better person. I know that it sounds like a cliche when I say that but that's what I really feel in my heart. Before I met Xtimu and moved in with her and got some dogs and bought a house and became a DAD, before all of that, I was someone who didn't know how to express the beauty that existed in my soul. I knew it was there and I knew that I wanted to but I had no idea how to pull it out. These people and this idea of togetherness has tapped into that part of my nature and given it life. There are moments now in my life when that romantic idea of a golden poetic hue is actualized and all of the dreams of ancient hearts wrestle forth to communicate with the universe.

And I can see it.

And I can feel it.

And I can open my heart and give it back to the world.

28 Months (part two)

That is an image of Monica Furlong, not Quinn, but I wanted to remember this woman for the impact that she recently had in my life. I just finished reading a book that she wrote called, "Wise Child". It immediately connected with my soul and it's a book that I am holding aside for Quinn. It'll be perfect for those tween years when life feels so unsure and trying to understand your place in this world seems like a monumental chore. I have complete faith in my children and their abilities but I am constantly on the lookout for beautiful messages that might reach their lovely ears.

The story of "Wise Child" focuses on the growth of a young girl at a transitional period of her life. Raised during the dark ages in Britain, Wise Child suddenly finds herself orphaned when her grandmother dies and both her mother and father are off exploring the world beyond their little province. The only person who has the means to take her in is Juniper, a strange woman who has many mystical qualities about her. At first Wise Child is frightened because all of the children think that Juniper is a witch and that life with her will be terrible, but she soon discovers that there is no one in town who is more welcoming and generous. Wise Child's life until that point had been deeply steeped in a devout interpretation of Christianity, administered by the local priest, a hateful man named Fillan. In that world there was no need for a girl to be educated beyond homemaking designs and only those with Jesus in their heart should be acceptable companions. Juniper's world is an entirely new perspective for Wise Child. She begins to learn about nature and her intimate connection to it. She discovers the lore of herbal culture and the benefit of working diligently to bolster the environment around her, which in turn helps them live more comfortably than most of the others in town. She also is educated on all of the arts of human understanding, just so that she may become a more fully realized individual.

For her entire life, Monica Furlong fought against the gender prejudice inherent within the Church. She was deeply spiritual and had an open seeking heart, but her foundation was rooted within Christianity. She sought to transform the culture of the Church Of England so that women were connected to a more equitable environment within those hallowed walls. She was a Christian Feminist and her understanding of religions and the way that they functioned was always grounded with a human touch.

Growing up within the Christian culture myself, I often had misgivings and was extremely confused by the inequity existing all around us that didn't jive with the message of universal love that stemmed from the teachings of Jesus. This book was a revelation for me because it showed that the true heart of the divine exists all around us, that it doesn't have to be constrained by any book or theology or culture. It is a natural breathing reality that we witness every day. Juniper understood that so much more than any of the so-called "Christians" in the book and it is this message that she tries to impart on Wise Child so that she may develop and help the world grow to become more in tune with that divine spirit.

There is a constant struggle within our culture about empowerment. We are forever being told that we have the capabilities to be the most dynamic and self-realized people then, in the same breath, we are reminded how limited those capabilities can be. Nowhere is this more obvious than in the lives of women. We have advanced so dramatically over the last hundred years, since women first were empowered with the vote, yet almost every message conveyed is one of subservience, of succumbing to the male gaze, of retaining an unequal role in life. Though it's true that more and more women are overcoming this debilitating burden, the dominating story that remains is one of enormous struggle and conflict to simply obtain a basic human right.

Monica Furlong didn't succumb to the pressure of a dominant persistent belief. Instead she continued to try and alter that belief for her entire life, even completing a third novel shortly before she died that continued to delve into Juniper's and Wise Child's world. Ms. Furlong is the type of role model that I want Quinn to admire and aspire to be. Not a model nor a film star nor a rock god nor a celebrity of any kind that will demand that she conform to an idealized version of beauty. Not a CEO nor a politician who doesn't believe that women should have ever gotten the right to vote or even serve in office alongside men. I want her to truly be empowered and to believe in the strength of every human being, to fight against injustice no matter where it may rear its ugly head. I want her to be a feminist.

Here's a picture of my little feminist.

27 Months (parte deux)

Quinn has reached that stage in life where she suddenly understands that she doesn't have to take anymore shit from her brother.

Being the younger sibling has the inevitable consequences of accepting all of the hand-me-downs from the older brothers or sisters. That doesn't simply mean that they get all of the partially worn clothes or cracked plastic toys or mangy blankets. It also means that when they play together, Quinnita must deal with having all of the lower quality items. Until now it hasn't been much of a problem because Quinn mostly just wanted to play with Lucas as much as possible. But slowly and astutely she is becoming more and more aware of the reasons that Lucas is so free to hand over a particular toy.

For the longest time Xtimu and I have tried to make sure that Lucas doesn't just take whatever he wants from people. Politeness is a requirement growing up in this household. "Will you please give me..." or "May I please have..." are two acceptable phrases when asking for something. Lucas thoroughly understands our stance on this and for the most part follows the protocol but he also really doesn't like to have something that, according to his reasoning, is of lower quality than whatever else might substitute for said item. So he has designed sneaky and very specific ways of acquiring the more desired item. For example regular ole Lightning McQueen is much better than dirt-racer Lightning McQueen. I don't really know why but what that means is that Lucas will find a way for Quinn that means that she gets stuck with the dirt-racer model 99% of the time, the 1% only being those few precious minutes when Lucas is distracted.

Oh yes, this is what it has come down to in CasaWex, the dreaded Lightning McQueen debate. It's a toss-up between Dinaco Lightning McQueen (or the blue one), Rusteeze Lightning McQueen (the red one) and dirt-racer Lightning McQueen (also red but with a brown dirt color on the bottom instead of gray). The important thing to understand is that they are all the exact same car except for few color quirks of difference between them. Which one is the best? How the hell should I know? All I know is that when I play with one of them, it doesn't matter which one, they all feel and act the same.

The thing with children is that they don't really know how to hide their egos. As we grow it's a part of our nature that we either learn to control it or just let it overpower everything. In the first case our behavior allows us to interact with others, developing relationships based on respect. The second case often leads to loneliness, conflict with others, which can result in horrifying injury or death, and if you have enough privilege on your side, it may also lead to supreme power. Either way there is a distinct division between the types of human beings who've learned to control their egos and all the other assholes in the world, those children who never learned to share. Some children naturally are better at sharing than others but so far Lucas is at an age where allowing someone else access to his stuff is paramount to psychological torture, even when that person is his own sister.

Quinn must now deal with that ego. She's not one to back down once she gets her mind set, either. Lucas is in for a difficult ride if he thinks that he is going to control this little gal. I guess that's why he's already resorting to mind games in order to have superior power over her but I don't think that's going to last much longer anyway, either. Quinn has a magical awareness already and there are many moments when I am startled by some of the things she seems to understand. I had a feeling that it wouldn't take long for her to start holding her own when it comes to childhood interactions with that brother of hers. The thing that Lucas needs to understand is that Quinn actually really likes to play with him at this point. She loves him as an older brother. He should embrace that energy and use it so that he will always have an ally by his side throughout life. Quinn is very loyal in this way and that's just another aspect of her nature that I really appreciate.