Month: December 2003

  • Cold Winter Morning -


    It's the kind of winter morning I enjoy.  The air is crisp and the ground crunches with heavy frost beneath my feet as I walk the dog.  My breath hangs in the air before me until I walk through it.  The clear blue sky above invites me to expand and explore everything, the thin air of winter lacks weight to hold me down.  Every possibility before me seems charged with purpose and my only task is to choose where I will focus my energy. 


    The boys are better this morning.  Still not well, but not the same lethargic little guys they've been for the past five days.  Their temperatures are coming down.  Thank you all for your prayers.  I know we aren't the only family fighting the flu this winter, and I hope that for all recovery comes quickly.


    I'm still a little low-key today, thinking that I'll try to rest.  Maybe do some reading.  Get back in here later and visit my SIR.  In the meantime - have a lovely Sunday.


    Found this over at Simon Templar's site.  I love that concluding line ... your heart's alive.  Y E S!  And that's a reassuring thing to note. 




    Your Heart is Red

    What Color is Your Heart?
    brought to you by Quizilla


    I like the photo with Simon's result better ~ but I like the description for the result of the quiz that describes my kiss.  I don't feel particularly mysterious, but I rather like the idea that I might be perceived that way.  In reality, I've been told I'm pretty much a WYSIWYG person.  But maybe that isn't because of a lack of mystery.  Maybe I'm just the kind of person who doesn't inspire anyone to wonder whether there might be another layer.


    mysterious
    You have a mysterious kiss. Your partner never
    knows what you're going to come up with next;
    this creates great excitement and arousal never
    knowing what to expect. And it's sure to end
    in a kiss as great as your mystery.

    What kind of kiss are you?
    brought to you by Quizilla

  • I Love My Kids


    Okay, I know that I've spent days in a row telling you about how rough it's been around here.  It's still not easy.  I'm putting up the Christmas tree today, and my kids feel so bad they are just lying in the floor watching.  Michael seems to be over his nausea - but Tucker has it now.  Both of them continue to run high fevers.  I know that they are going to recover and we'll all be all right, but there is nothing like having your child sick to strike fear in the heart of a Momi.  I'll tell you, I've been on my knees in thankfulness this week that I so rarely have to even wonder about my kids' health. 


    I know that I'll forget the way I felt in the middle of the night holding my Baby while he coughed and shook.  There will come a day when I throw up my hands and say, "I WISH you could   just  -  be  -  still ..."  but for now, I'd give anything to see him bouncing into trouble again, because stillness is terrifyingly wrong for Tucker.


    We've been reading books.  We have our special favorites.  Ever since my friend Mary introduced us to Tacky the Penguin, he's been inspiring giggles and admiration (he's an odd bird, but a nice one to have around.)  We also like Click Clack Moo, Cows that Type.  It does my heart good to know that I'm sneaking in lessons on collective bargaining as a problem-solving technique while my kids are laughing over the sight of the cows with their electric blankets.   Tucker likes Dr. Seuss' The King, The Mice, and The Cheese best of all.  But when he's sick, different books come off the shelf. 


    One that we have been reading for years, but which rarely gets requested anymore is called I Love You the Purplest.  In the past three days, I know I've read this book at least 20 times.  I'm going to share the ending for you.


    ... When the fishing and the baths
    and the stories were done,
    Mama tucked the brothers into bed.
         Julian slept in the top bunk
    and she reached up to kiss him goodnight.
         "Mama, " whispered Julian,
    his hands forming a tunnel around her ear.
    "Who do you love best?"



    Mama thought for a minute, and then she
    whispered, "Why Julian, I love you the bluest!
    I love you the color of a dragon fly
    at the tip of its wing.
    I love you the color of a cave
    in its deepest, hidden part
    where grizzly bears and bats curl up until night.
    The mist of a mountain.
    The splash of a waterfall.
    The hush of a whisper."


    The breath in Julian's chest grew and grew
    and grew until hs couldn't hold it any longer.
    Then it came out in a long velvety sigh.



    Mama crouched low to the bunk where Max slept.
    Max wriggled his finger for Mama to come close.
    He whispered, "Mama, who do you love best?"



    "Why Max, i love you the reddest!
    I love you the color of the sky
    before it blazes into night.
    I love you the color of a leopard's eyes
    when it prowls through the jungle,
    and the color of a campfire at the edge of the flame.
    A wide open hug.  The swirl of a magic cape.
    The thunder of a shout."


    The smile on Max's face grew and grew
    until his cheeks couldn't hold it in.
    Then it came out in a big, thundery laugh.



    Later in teh evening
    the brothers and their Mama slept;
    oen in the top bunk,
    glowing like the evening moon,
    one in the bottom bunk,
    shimmering like the evening sun,
    and Mama in the big bed
    dreaming of the boys she loved best.


    Before my children were born, I heard people say that there was no such thing as loving one more or less than the other.  That I would love them equally but in different ways.  I didn't really believe them.  I'd always had some friends I prefer to others, and I'd always assumed that all love was about figuring out who you loved the best.  I mean if you couldn't say "I love you BEST" why ever consider marriage with anyone?  (I was young and foolish.)


    What I've come to understand through loving my children is that I when I love, I truly don't rank the people I love in terms of more or less.  I love each person the best, when I love THEM as they are.  I can't think of any better metaphor than that offered by Barbara Joosse in the book I've quoted above.  At different times and for different reasons, I prefer all the colors.  Purple, green, brown, gold, red, blue, yellow, not to mention cerulean, aquamarine, fuschia, and bronze ... every color enriches my world.  Just as every person I love enriches my life.  And because of the loves of my life - I am the richest person I know.

  • Michael has been up since 4.  Tucker has a temperature of 102.  Momi is tired. 

  • Gray Day in Indiana


    It was good sleeping weather last night in Indiana, cold rain dripping off the eaves, and a warm blanket to wrap in sent me off to wonderful slumber.  In the middle of the night, I dreamed I wrote a blog.  I had a great snappy title, a hilarious beginning, witty middle and the kind of ending that makde you want to write paragraphs in my comments section.  Alas - I woke up.  In fact, I woke to the sounds of a sick child which I will not describe for you here because I like you.


    My Michael is really sick.  He was sick yesterday as well and I kept him home from school.  My poor baby, he NEVER gets too sick for food, but yesterday and today, he has not been able to keep anything down and has gotten to the point that he won't even consider a saltine cracker.  In a way, and I almost feel bad for saying this, it's nice to have him home with me.  Tucker is away in school, so it's just me and Michael in the house.  Michael has become so much the responsible older child in recent years.  He helps with housework, likes to cook, and reminds me when I need to put things on the grocery list.  Tucker winds up with the lion's share of cuddle time and babying. 


    Yesterday and today, Michael has felt the need for Momi to be close and to comfort him.  I'm glad that we have the kind of relationship that makes him comfortable letting me know his need, and me comfortable meeting it.  I know it isn't always this way as children grow.  My sister laments the days when her boys - approximately the same ages as mine - used to come to her for Mom time.  But as they've grown, they've outgrown that need/desire.  Or at least they've come to feel themselves too grown-up to express it. 


    I've always thought that the main difference between her kids and mine was that mine were homeschooled.  Now that I have them in school, I've been a little anxious about the ways our relationship would change.  For now though, my son doesn't feel well, and he wants his Momi.  And I'm very glad I can be here for him.


         


    It's a rainy day in Tennessee and THYRIO has written a rainy day blog that is nothing less than High Art.  So AFTER you leave me a comment, or a smiley or something to let me know you love me in my comments section - head over to his site and enjoy. 

  • All for One and One For All ?


    I have a lot of "favorite" philosophers.  Some I like to read because I think they were nuts and I like the challenge of working out my argument for why they were off base.  Some because they introduce me to new ways of thinking, and potentially better ways of living.  Some I like because their words resonate with me.  I don't so much think it through and agree with them as I recognize them.  These are the ones that make me wish I had said it that way first. 


    I'm not sure which category I'd put Immanuel Kant into.  (I do apologize to all of you who said that you really didn't want to read a blog on Kant.  He's been on my mind, so I HAVE to write it out, but if you'll hang in with me for a few moments to get him out of my system, I'd appreciate it.)


    See I've been trying to work through some issues in my life, and one of the big concepts that I keep tripping over is responsibility.  Kant was ALL about responsibility.  Anytime you hear things like, "What if everyone did that ...", "All for one and one for all," "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one ..." all these ideas encapsulate the core of Kant's ethics.  He said that we owe it to humanity to live as we ought to live.  He was so insistent upon this business of ought that he said doing the right thing just because we wanted to do it, or preferred to do it didn't qualify us as being moral people.  The only way an action could be considered virtuous in his definition was if you had come to the conclusion that you should do that thing, and performed the action out of your sense of duty.  


    I've found a lot of things that I should do over the years.  And for the most part, I've done them.  I've had a few slips, but I'd like to believe that in the total of my life, I can be counted on to do the right thing.  Sometimes the right thing is a more complicated affair than it appears on the surface.  I'll give another example from Kant's work.  He concluded that it is better for the Higher Good of mankind for people to be honest than to lie.  Therefore under every circumstance in every situation, a person is dutybound to speak the truth. 


    But, you might ask, what if speaking the truth could harm another person?  Say, a man comes running down the road in front of you, haggard, breathing raggedly, and looking roughed up.  He comes to a fork and veers right.  Just about the time he's out of sight, two men come running up from the same direction.  They demand to know which way the first man went.  Should you answer them?  You don't know anything about why they are chasing the man, maybe he's a criminal and these guys are undercover agents in pursuit.  Maybe he's an honest man who escaped from a robbery attempt and they are pursuing him to silence him.  You don't know why they want him.  Should you tell the truth?  Kant would say "yes".  That under all circumstances, it is for the Higher Good that we should volunteer the truth. 


    That's a standard that very few of us would choose to live by.  I think that we all recognize that if we gave information to people bent on harm, then we would bear some responsibility for the harm they did.  So why am I stuck on Kant when there are obvious flaws in his viewpoint?


    It's my own predisposition to accept responsibility for taking care of "the group" first and myself second.  If there are a dozen people who would be affected/influenced by my behavior, then I have been known to take every one of their viewpoints into consideration before I act.  I will state my preference last.  I will make certain that nothing I do could harm you.  If I know that x, y, or z would cause my Mom stress (now keep in mind that my Mom is 62 and I'm 40), I will avoid the action where I can, and if I can't avoid the action, I will try to do it in such a way that she doesn't have to deal with it.  I would not lie about it, but I'd try very hard not to be in a position in which she'd have cause to ASK me whether or not I did x, y, or z.  


    Trying to live responsibly in this way makes me subject to the feelings, the desires, and the happiness of other people.  You see what I mean?  


    But ironically, Kant's imperative to do the thing that you should do rests on the foundation of freedom.  He notices that unless a person is free to choose, then no action they perform can be considered a moral action.  Then he constructs a towering argument which binds me into a place where I'm not free to choose at all. 


    This is ultimately the only logical position of humanity without God.  Nietzsche took this argument to it's extreme in his work.  He concluded that without God we have no choice but to become the shapers of our own values, and fashioners of our own lives.  But he described the responsibility that goes along with such a position as being terrifying in proportion.  In Thus Spake Zarathustra he wrote, "Alas grant me madness ... By being above the law I am the most outcast of outcasts."  The acceptance of the full measure of responsibility for all the possible ramifications of all our actions is the path of insanity. 


    I don't want to be insane.  I want to be a moral person.  But I cannot accept the logical end of being responsible for my every action.  Is there a way out of this quandry? 


    I think the answer is the pairing of freedom with equality.  I'm neither above nor below you.  I'm not responsible for you.  It's an old standard.  But to find balance, I must learn to love my neighbor as I love myself.  I can't place the needs of the many above the needs of the one, I must insert my needs into the equation.  Because, and I think even Kant would agree with this, if we each take care to have our own needs met, that's best for everyone involved.  


     

  • Proud Momi Moments


    Michael struggles with spelling, I understand this, I wish that he could spell, but he has a mental block that just makes it almost impossible for him.  He can read anything, but if he has to come up with the letters to write on the paper, he's blank.  I figure it's like when you study a foreign language and some time in your third year, you figure out that you can read it, but you can't speak it.  If you try to draw up the words, you are blank.  You can understand what they are saying to you, but you can't say anything back to them.  Today, my son got a 100% on his spelling test. 



    Tucker had his moment to shine as well.  He came home with ZERO formal warnings.  Now this kid has averaged 3 a day since he started school, and more than once he's gotten so creative in his determination to test limits that he's had to brign home special notes to inform his parents of his school time activities.  But he actually made it through a WHOLE DAY without a single warning.  Way to go kid.  You know what was even better though, I asked him what treat he wanted for having such a good day.  He picked curling up with Momi and having me read his favorite books to him.  He showed up with a huge stack of books, but that was just more fun. 



    Tucker had a good day at the beach on Saturday.  He couldn't stand it that the seagulls were just standing around doing nothing, so he ran around amongst them and got them up in the air.  I tried to catch some of the frenetic movement but for some reason, he looks almost calm in this shot. 



    I had planned a really insightful post today about Immanuel Kant's three postulates of morality, but really, wouldn't you rather see pictures of my adorable kids? 

  • Home Again, Home Again Jiggety Jig -
    Or Something like That


    Well, Thanksgiving in Florida was about the coldest Thanksgiving I've spent since I left Minnesota.  I'll admit it was partially my own fault, I mean, I packed for Florida.  I didn't realize that Florida had packed up and gone somewhere else leaving us with a piece of real estate from the upper Midwest in exchange. 


    My husband's parents are cool people.  (Which means that they think I'm wonderful and they love my kids beyond reason.)  Shirley cooked enough food for five times our number, so I'm avoiding the scale this week in hopes that if I don't eat anything between now and well, probably mid-January, I'll lose the weight I gained at her table.  Oh, but it was good.  Joe didn't make any of his Cajun specialties on this trip so I escaped that temptation.  He laughs because yes, he knows that his Shrimp Etouffe is good, but before he met me, he never saw anyone who would eat the left-overs for breakfast the next day.  Hey, I can have eggs and oatmeal anytime.


    Shirley and I play games, too.  Oh, the guys will play if pressed (and Shirley is good at pressing) but I don't require any manipulation to bring me to the board.  We started off with Upwords.  But after I totally wiped the floor with her, she decided that we should switch to dominos.  I usually hold my own in dominos, but not this trip.  The great statisitical equalizer of the universe got even with me for that 375 points I scored in Upwords and I lost 7 games of Mexican Train like some kind of ... well ... train that I couldn't get off at the next station. 


    We took the kids to the beach on Saturday.  It wasn't nearly warm enough for it, but I love it so much that no one wanted to tell me "no".  (there are photos, I'll try to post later.)


    The trip home yesterday was as it should be, long, but uneventful.  My children are wonderful travellers, and apart from a couple odd moments when Tucker cried over a golfball, they made the trip in a bubble of pleasant play. 


    Now it's time for me to get to work on some things that have been on my back burner for a while.  Wish me luck.