1 2 3 Teeth
Good evening loved ones. I hope all is well on your side of the earth. Things are quite good over here if we focus on the moment. The Tour de France comes on every night at 10pm. Matt and I (and Evie) have actually watched a lot of the coverage. Matt is in awe of the scenery, seeing video of the beautiful French countryside. This is a country about which he has studied and heard so much from me, but has never seen. I too enjoy the scenery, surely more than the cyclists. One night we watched as the cyclists rode just a few miles away from the farm in the Pyrenees where I picked flowers, wild blueberries, strawberries and raspberries for a few weeks in 2003. This sight was even better than the little Taste of France segment.
The pope is here in Australia for World Youth Day, exciting for many people here, young and old. Fifteen years ago, Matt would have been as energized as all of the pilgrims but times have changed. This particular pope kicked Matt Fox out of the Catholic Church, taking away his right to the priesthood for saying that the divine could also be feminine and for finding truth and beauty in other faiths and lifestyles. My Matt has edited Originally Blessed in celebration of the 25th anniversary of Matthew Fox's Original Blessing. Times have changed.
Last night the moon was full, so bright and spectacular. I'm sure you saw the same moon just sixteen hours or so after we did. Winter nights are great for watching the moon rise, as it comes up early enough for us all to watch. We had a few really warm days, two nights when we didn't even light the fire. In any case I am quite happy for the cold nights to return. A warm fire to gaze upon is reason enough.
Keeping the fire going all through the night is a challenge though. You'd think that sleeping next to it would make it easier but somehow I found a way to let it go out each night. Genevieve was having terrible teething pain, especially at night. If she could just play all night, forgetting her slow moving teeth, she'd be fine. She seemed to wake almost every hour, but could be appeased by one of the ten treatments I tried to apply to her gums. We even tried using non-natural methods. Turns out that chamomile drops, chamomile tea, whiskey, clove oil, homeopathic teething tablets, teething gel, pain relieving tissue salts, oragel and baby Tylenol all helped a little bit, no more than the others, but none were strong enough to help Evie through the night.
By 2am, she had had enough and after crying for a while would clearly call out, "Nappy?" "Nahna?" "toys?" or "pay?" After each attempt at calming her, she would end up still crying angrily with her hand in her mouth. In the beginning, she appreciated our efforts. After a few days though, all attempts just pissed her off. After a while fatigue kicked in and cuddles were the best medicine. Time passed. Jacinta, in one of her more empathetic moments said, "Wouldn't it be nice if we could say, '1, 2, 3 Teeth! and they would come out!" After four days, our sweet Evie is now happy again and has a few more teeth to show for all the pain.
As a rite of passage, Genevieve has decided that she will hold her spoon and feed herself. She will not eat if you try to "feed" her and grumpily tries to rip the spoon from your hand. We have followed her lead and pushed her in to join us at the table, no longer using her highchair tray. These tiny humans are just amazing, how suddenly they go from slobbing all over to eating like the rest of us. Of course I put a bib on her, but I am surprised how well she is doing. I suppose she has sprouted teeth for a reason.
I don't know a thing about the science of development, but perhaps all these new teeth make it easier for Genevieve to speak. I can't name all the words she is saying because she is saying too many. Yesterday at the park I asked her if she wanted to go down the slide. She said "slippery dip" (Aussie for slide) and fearlessly climbed up the play structure and slid down into Jacinta's arms. In the bath she placed a foam number 5 on the wall and I said "Cinq" (five in French). She replied, "Six, sept" (six, seven in French). Of course she has no idea what the words mean but she knows that when we play Cache-cache (Hide and Seek) those words come after "Cinq."
One morning I looked out the window at the sun, stretched up my arms and recited an old poem from my teaching days about the sun: "O Soleil Réveille mon coeur…" Now Genevieve spontaneously reaches her hands up toward the sun each morning and says "Soleil!" Jacinta and I have followed her lead and made up motions for other words in French like moon, star, wind, rain, and lightening. There are a few words for which Evie only knows the French, which makes me smile and inspires Jacinta to speak more French. Perhaps Jacinta has noticed I become more child-like when we speak French and likes that. I would too, if I were four years old.
Jacinta likes to play the role of the teacher, as we all do sometimes. She likes to initiate an activity. If it is her idea, she is there 100%. Oftentimes, if I suggest an activity she likes, she will suggest an alternative. This is perhaps why she has a hard time fully participating in French class. She watches all of her friends follow my directions. Sucked in by peer pressure, marveling at how much fun they are having, she can play along. But if there aren't many others, she falls away trying to lead the class herself and sometimes refuses to participate.
On Tuesday I went into preschool to play guitar for the children. Jacinta and I practiced six songs for a week, getting ready for the day when we would share some songs with her preschool friends. When the time came, she left the circle on the floor to go to a table on her own and draw. I had a nice time singing with the other kids, but felt a little sad that she didn't want to participate. One of the teachers went over to see why she wasn't singing with us. "I can hear my mom sing at home all the time," she replied. That evening Jacinta asked if I would come back and do it again. I wish I could look inside her mind once in a while, such a mysterious little creature. Hopefully I'll have many years to figure her out as she evolves into the beautiful little creation she is.
We are all somewhat mysterious to everyone but ourselves, but I suppose we know some better than others. I've known Matt for about twelve years, longer than I've known my girls. It's understandable that he'd be less mysterious to me. I know what he has energy for and what he doesn't. I know what he eats, what he will put up with, and what he will not touch. I know the basic things that make him happy. I know what inspires him and warms his soul. The girls give him energy, fill him with love and joy and tire him out. His job also gives him energy, and tires him out. His book has given him energy, drained him, and warmed his soul. This week the final orders went in, the printing price was confirmed and the printing began. He leaves for the USA in one week. Such a guy, he will pack the night before and is just now trying to catch up with people to make plans. Rather than frantically running around packing, Matt is breathing a sigh of relief, preparing for the Creation Spirituality Communities Conference and rejoicing that his "baby" will soon be in his hands and the hands of many others.
Today upon return from brunch at our friends' house, Matt cut down another tree for me. This was the last major impediment to sunlight in the orchard. Our neighbors happened to be burning off some of their last branches and offered to drag our cut down branches up the hill and burn them for us. Now Jacinta is not often up for voluntary labor, but if it involves fire or our kind neighbors, she jumps. She took her little koala (baby doll of the week) and she was off: dragging branches up the hill to throw them on the fire. After we finished the tree, I told her that we would be cooking some garden potatoes in the coals of the bonfire. She offered to dig up some more potatoes and wash them in the garden while I went up and fed Evie. This was a first. She needed a little help from Matt, who was still down there chopping up logs from the fallen tree.
Later on, we stood around chatting with the neighbors long enough to cook those potatoes on the hot coals. Jacinta was convinced she would not like them but with sour cream and butter, who can refuse? As the sun went down, we cooked the rest of our dinner on the fire while watching flock after flock of ducks and birds fly overhead. While Matt cooked sausages, the girls and I rolled down the hill. I found out what it feels like to be thirty and roll down a hill. Ouch.
Rather than describing my ageing bones, I'll close with a sweet story about our innocent little four year old. En route to the Bellingen markets yesterday, I gave Jacinta a purse with five dollars inside. This was a first. She was to buy a stone garden ornament to decorate and play with in the garden. She had two 2$ coins and one 1$ coin. After a few minutes of silent excitement and observation, she said, "Hey…Santa is on the money!" I busted out laughing, as quietly as possible, knowing that this was a picture of a stoic aboriginal man with a long beard. "Oh?" I asked. "Why is Santa Claus on our money?" she wanted to know. Giggles were all I could come up with. "Mommy, why is Santa so funny?" I finally came up with a simple explanation of who this was and why it was funny.
Anxious to try out shopping with her own Santa coins, Jacinta wanted to count out the minutes left until we would reach the market. We counted to sixty three times and then luckily found something else to do. Eventually Jacinta found a nice green frog to purchase with her Santa coins. I bought Evie a frog too, but her favorite part of the market seemed to be the band. A spirited little dancer, her body can't refuse music, it just has to move.
We all have our own little mysteries, some locked away deeper than others, and some so fiery that they can not be hidden. Sometimes I get frustrated when I pretend to understand my daughters. When I take a step back, I can marvel at the chance to love and understand the secrets they conceal as we all grow together. Here's to loving the mystery and letting it unfold naturally. Have a lovely, awe-filled week my friends.
Peace,
Shana
The pope is here in Australia for World Youth Day, exciting for many people here, young and old. Fifteen years ago, Matt would have been as energized as all of the pilgrims but times have changed. This particular pope kicked Matt Fox out of the Catholic Church, taking away his right to the priesthood for saying that the divine could also be feminine and for finding truth and beauty in other faiths and lifestyles. My Matt has edited Originally Blessed in celebration of the 25th anniversary of Matthew Fox's Original Blessing. Times have changed.
Last night the moon was full, so bright and spectacular. I'm sure you saw the same moon just sixteen hours or so after we did. Winter nights are great for watching the moon rise, as it comes up early enough for us all to watch. We had a few really warm days, two nights when we didn't even light the fire. In any case I am quite happy for the cold nights to return. A warm fire to gaze upon is reason enough.
Keeping the fire going all through the night is a challenge though. You'd think that sleeping next to it would make it easier but somehow I found a way to let it go out each night. Genevieve was having terrible teething pain, especially at night. If she could just play all night, forgetting her slow moving teeth, she'd be fine. She seemed to wake almost every hour, but could be appeased by one of the ten treatments I tried to apply to her gums. We even tried using non-natural methods. Turns out that chamomile drops, chamomile tea, whiskey, clove oil, homeopathic teething tablets, teething gel, pain relieving tissue salts, oragel and baby Tylenol all helped a little bit, no more than the others, but none were strong enough to help Evie through the night.
By 2am, she had had enough and after crying for a while would clearly call out, "Nappy?" "Nahna?" "toys?" or "pay?" After each attempt at calming her, she would end up still crying angrily with her hand in her mouth. In the beginning, she appreciated our efforts. After a few days though, all attempts just pissed her off. After a while fatigue kicked in and cuddles were the best medicine. Time passed. Jacinta, in one of her more empathetic moments said, "Wouldn't it be nice if we could say, '1, 2, 3 Teeth! and they would come out!" After four days, our sweet Evie is now happy again and has a few more teeth to show for all the pain.
As a rite of passage, Genevieve has decided that she will hold her spoon and feed herself. She will not eat if you try to "feed" her and grumpily tries to rip the spoon from your hand. We have followed her lead and pushed her in to join us at the table, no longer using her highchair tray. These tiny humans are just amazing, how suddenly they go from slobbing all over to eating like the rest of us. Of course I put a bib on her, but I am surprised how well she is doing. I suppose she has sprouted teeth for a reason.
I don't know a thing about the science of development, but perhaps all these new teeth make it easier for Genevieve to speak. I can't name all the words she is saying because she is saying too many. Yesterday at the park I asked her if she wanted to go down the slide. She said "slippery dip" (Aussie for slide) and fearlessly climbed up the play structure and slid down into Jacinta's arms. In the bath she placed a foam number 5 on the wall and I said "Cinq" (five in French). She replied, "Six, sept" (six, seven in French). Of course she has no idea what the words mean but she knows that when we play Cache-cache (Hide and Seek) those words come after "Cinq."
One morning I looked out the window at the sun, stretched up my arms and recited an old poem from my teaching days about the sun: "O Soleil Réveille mon coeur…" Now Genevieve spontaneously reaches her hands up toward the sun each morning and says "Soleil!" Jacinta and I have followed her lead and made up motions for other words in French like moon, star, wind, rain, and lightening. There are a few words for which Evie only knows the French, which makes me smile and inspires Jacinta to speak more French. Perhaps Jacinta has noticed I become more child-like when we speak French and likes that. I would too, if I were four years old.
Jacinta likes to play the role of the teacher, as we all do sometimes. She likes to initiate an activity. If it is her idea, she is there 100%. Oftentimes, if I suggest an activity she likes, she will suggest an alternative. This is perhaps why she has a hard time fully participating in French class. She watches all of her friends follow my directions. Sucked in by peer pressure, marveling at how much fun they are having, she can play along. But if there aren't many others, she falls away trying to lead the class herself and sometimes refuses to participate.
On Tuesday I went into preschool to play guitar for the children. Jacinta and I practiced six songs for a week, getting ready for the day when we would share some songs with her preschool friends. When the time came, she left the circle on the floor to go to a table on her own and draw. I had a nice time singing with the other kids, but felt a little sad that she didn't want to participate. One of the teachers went over to see why she wasn't singing with us. "I can hear my mom sing at home all the time," she replied. That evening Jacinta asked if I would come back and do it again. I wish I could look inside her mind once in a while, such a mysterious little creature. Hopefully I'll have many years to figure her out as she evolves into the beautiful little creation she is.
We are all somewhat mysterious to everyone but ourselves, but I suppose we know some better than others. I've known Matt for about twelve years, longer than I've known my girls. It's understandable that he'd be less mysterious to me. I know what he has energy for and what he doesn't. I know what he eats, what he will put up with, and what he will not touch. I know the basic things that make him happy. I know what inspires him and warms his soul. The girls give him energy, fill him with love and joy and tire him out. His job also gives him energy, and tires him out. His book has given him energy, drained him, and warmed his soul. This week the final orders went in, the printing price was confirmed and the printing began. He leaves for the USA in one week. Such a guy, he will pack the night before and is just now trying to catch up with people to make plans. Rather than frantically running around packing, Matt is breathing a sigh of relief, preparing for the Creation Spirituality Communities Conference and rejoicing that his "baby" will soon be in his hands and the hands of many others.
Today upon return from brunch at our friends' house, Matt cut down another tree for me. This was the last major impediment to sunlight in the orchard. Our neighbors happened to be burning off some of their last branches and offered to drag our cut down branches up the hill and burn them for us. Now Jacinta is not often up for voluntary labor, but if it involves fire or our kind neighbors, she jumps. She took her little koala (baby doll of the week) and she was off: dragging branches up the hill to throw them on the fire. After we finished the tree, I told her that we would be cooking some garden potatoes in the coals of the bonfire. She offered to dig up some more potatoes and wash them in the garden while I went up and fed Evie. This was a first. She needed a little help from Matt, who was still down there chopping up logs from the fallen tree.
Later on, we stood around chatting with the neighbors long enough to cook those potatoes on the hot coals. Jacinta was convinced she would not like them but with sour cream and butter, who can refuse? As the sun went down, we cooked the rest of our dinner on the fire while watching flock after flock of ducks and birds fly overhead. While Matt cooked sausages, the girls and I rolled down the hill. I found out what it feels like to be thirty and roll down a hill. Ouch.
Rather than describing my ageing bones, I'll close with a sweet story about our innocent little four year old. En route to the Bellingen markets yesterday, I gave Jacinta a purse with five dollars inside. This was a first. She was to buy a stone garden ornament to decorate and play with in the garden. She had two 2$ coins and one 1$ coin. After a few minutes of silent excitement and observation, she said, "Hey…Santa is on the money!" I busted out laughing, as quietly as possible, knowing that this was a picture of a stoic aboriginal man with a long beard. "Oh?" I asked. "Why is Santa Claus on our money?" she wanted to know. Giggles were all I could come up with. "Mommy, why is Santa so funny?" I finally came up with a simple explanation of who this was and why it was funny.
Anxious to try out shopping with her own Santa coins, Jacinta wanted to count out the minutes left until we would reach the market. We counted to sixty three times and then luckily found something else to do. Eventually Jacinta found a nice green frog to purchase with her Santa coins. I bought Evie a frog too, but her favorite part of the market seemed to be the band. A spirited little dancer, her body can't refuse music, it just has to move.
We all have our own little mysteries, some locked away deeper than others, and some so fiery that they can not be hidden. Sometimes I get frustrated when I pretend to understand my daughters. When I take a step back, I can marvel at the chance to love and understand the secrets they conceal as we all grow together. Here's to loving the mystery and letting it unfold naturally. Have a lovely, awe-filled week my friends.
Peace,
Shana
posted by Matt & Shana & Jacinta & Genevieve Henry at
11:24 PM
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