the mundane and the ridiculous

luci always holds out 4 fingers and says, 'mommy, can i grow up to be this?' i say, 'not yet... don't grow up too fast.' so she tells people she wants to grow up so she can eat Jesus bread (communion), but mommy says not too fast. we spent a lovely afternoon yesterday drawing pictures. she puts so much emotion into them. there was one that looked like two stick figures flying. she told me it was 'mommy saving luci from the deep water in the swimming pool'. another one showed mommy and luci crying because luci was going to school. hmm. i guess i won't scan that one for the preschool teacher's desk.

lijah has been a riot lately. his favorite toy for now is his toddler spiderman, who sings the spiderman theme, and also itsy bitsy spider. he also has this new habit of trying to make his way across baby jail (our furniture arranged in a square) with his eyes closed. then he inevitably falls. then he plays dead. but sometimes he's not lying perfectly still because he may be playing twinkle twinkle little star with one hand. the first time he did that luci jumped off the couch and started swatting him on the butt. she was screaming, 'what's wrong with him?!' poor kid. then lij sat up quickly with his hair disheveled like an ostrich, smiling the tow mater smile. gracious. i did a music test on him. he was in the front seat of the car (parked, of course), playing with the steering wheel. i kept flipping radio stations. classical... he cocked his ear to one side. shoot... he didn't seem into Christian music. then, of course, the booty station. he stands up and starts rocking his head and butt to the beat, tow mater grin. i caught the black couple in the car next to us pointing. kid has more groove than me. the best image of him in my mind is him sitting in front of g's keyboard on the floor, legs out, belly hanging over the legs, making a great effort to play the keys, analyzing every sound. my parents said their best memory of me is being 7 years old, playing the piano with my big belly jiggling to the movement. maybe it's genetic.

i love it when they can play together. lij was cracking up as luci was wagging her butt and singing, 'how much is that doggy in the window? da one with the waggly tail...' or today they were taking baths at the same time (in separate tubs). lijah always likes to stand up out of his tub and rattle the side of luci's tub, which either aggravates her or makes her laugh. today she giggled and yanked on his birdie. i describe it to gary the same way... 'how was your day? oh, mine? kids took a bath. lijah stood up in his tub again, nads flapping in the wind.'

pray for g. i'm on nights again. he's boobless. and sleepless.

a dream luci loves

i had a random dream. before i was coherent i told luci about it. she sat there sucking her fingers. eyes really big.

my mom was driving our big red car along the shoreline. it was most likely midday. the weather was perfect. the water appeared warm, shimmering in the sun. there were really large elephants bathing themselves in the water. the wind was fragrant.

(ephelaunts?! - luci interjected)

"yes! look at the elephants!" i exclaimed. soon i was wading in the water with the kids. and big isaiah was there too. "don't get too close," i warned. just then a huge manatee started swimming towards lijah. he's going to get bitten, i thought, and started running as fast as one can run in waist-deep water with feet buried in sand. i snatched him up just in time, out of harm's way. i grabbed luci and big isaiah too, then trudged to the shoreline with all three kids in my arms, dodging manatee after manatee. somehow we made it. we climbed back into the car and my mom drove us away. gary was crouched in the trunk. "where were you, dude?" i asked. he just looked at me. then i woke up.

things i hear before i go to bed

"da da da da da da da da da. ga-ung ga-ung ga-ung ga-ung ga-ung. heh heh heh. ma ma ma ma ma ma..."

"i'm not a mermaid! i'm a manatee. why are you waughing? (laughing)"

"am i setting the clock for 5:45 again?!"

"hey! can we go to playhouse disney so i can play handy manny? wait! can you show me my guardian angel? do you have one? are you my angel? does daddy have a angel?"

a toasty friday evening at home

playing music for luci and lij. just to see if they like it. trying to see what they'll do - dance? sway? i'm dating myself by some of the stuff on the playlist:

1. nightswimming - r.e.m.
2. the reason - hoobastank
3. collide - howie day
4. if you love me for me - barbie, princess and the pauper
5. reflection - lea salonga, mulan
6. i am a girl like you - barbie, princess and the pauper

okay luci took over...

did you know

can you guess how big a zygote is? a human zygote?

the only reason i know is because i just spent a month at an infertility clinic. i was able to see the in vitro fertilization process. lots of comments on this later. you know i'm opinionated on this end of things.

the answer... not sure but definitely a fraction of the size of a grain of sand, but totally visible by the naked eye. like a speck of dust in a petri dish. one really big cell. eventually one heartbeat (unless it splits into twins). one beloved soul with the capacity to become a Saint someday. i guess you could technically say, "i knew you before you were placed in your mother's womb." isn't that weird?

the problem with in vitro isn't, per se, the life that you create, albeit, without the conjugal act, etc (at least for the average non-Catholic joe, that is).... it's the amount of embryos/babies/lives/souls lost in the process. for example, you stimulate a woman to ovulate 10 or 15 eggs, the more the merrier. then you fertilize them with a load of sperm. say only 9 fertilize... still, that's 9 lives. ok. then you implant 2 in mom because you should really try not to have too many babies at once since that can cause serious complications. that leaves 7. now what? okay, you freeze them. i can't stand the idea of frozen children already created, arrested in their developmental state, waiting to be born, loved, cuddled, fed... so say mom comes back afterward and wants another set of twins, so she turns to her 7 frozen embryos. 30-50% of them won't make the thaw cycle. i guess if a group of us got put in a meat locker for an indefinite amount of time, 30-50% of us wouldn't survive either. say that leaves only 3 behind. but twins are too much work, so she opts to only implant one. but she's too attached to the 2 frozen embryos to adopt them out. by the way, the staff affectionately calls them "kid pops".

when you walk into the office, it's magnificently decorated. you'd have to have a decent amount of money to even go there. so the baby boards aren't the typical corkboards with pin-up pictures of newborns. they are actually artistically framed displays of precious children taken by top of the line photographers. yet i look at these kids and wonder, for those who had in vitro, would they have consented to so many of their siblings dying or being frozen that they could be born to wear baby Gap?

things that make me smile

luci being good and thoughtful, giving from the heart. like offering her piggy bank to me willingly. "i don't want to grow up, mommy," she says often, with regard to having to go to school or leaving us behind. but she does want to grow up so she can take Communion, or, the 'Jesus bread'.

elijah playing the keyboard, intensity in his eyes. he rocks back and forth as he changes drumbeats and experiments with new instrument sounds. he touches each key the way e.t. reached out with his finger. luci was different with that keyboard; she would just find the demo button so she could dance to the pre-programmed song.

60 degree november days.
getting to say a rosary on the way to work.
luci and cousin henry getting to see a piece of the original cross.
jaden getting baptized.
having our tree up before thanksgiving.
random lunch breaks with gary.

speaking of gary, at thanksgiving dinner he put luci in her chair and encouraged her to eat. 'you've gotta try the big bird, luci.' she suddenly looked with horror at the turkey, realizing that yes, indeed, it was a bird. she clapped her hands over her eyes, then peeked between her fingers and said gravely, "i don't eat birds, daddy."