Photos Photos Photos

Finding it easier to upload the past several months in photos here.
{Click on the here}

Winter in Vermont

I keep putting up pictures that seem to keep us in a perpetual fall season. But we are having a terrific winter. The snow is relentless and lovely and we approve of it's generous presence. Everything about Vermont seems to compliment the proportions of white -- the country road, the trees, the animals, the hills, the old homes and vast farm properties. It fits my romantic sensibilities perfectly.

Sledding -- another excuse to get loud and goof off!

Finding a companionable walking stick on an icy country road.

Snowy mornings waiting for the bus with Des.

High snow drifts challenging little legs.

Walking up the drive after getting off the school bus. It's a BLIZZARD out there!


...

He Turned 7, She Turned 5

Such audacity, AGING! It really pushes at my resistance of change. And yet I can think of a thousand counter-arguments for change. But, yes, I sometimes oppose change. I'm working on it.

This little boy gave a cheer when he sited his rewards for changing.

This little girl stared and took change in thoughtfully.

His first Lego set -- he's all-American now.

A horsey dream come true.

Can't beat 'em, join 'em.
(oh! a painful cliche -- sorry!)

Desi Candor

"I am a mistake . . . I just said I was a MISTAKE!" (laughter)

Me: How was school?

Des: AMAZING!

Sometimes Des and Zoe like to pretend that Zoe is actually a little brother. She'll get dressed in his clothes and they'll be guys together. One afternoon while they were playing this game, Des was reclining in a chair and asked his little brother Zoe, “Can you be my footstool?”

Des held up a new animal he'd gotten for Christmas, "I think this is an African Rhino or a North Pole Rhino." I responded with an amazed, “How do you know these things?” He answered seriously, “I read it in the Diarrhea . . . the Diarrhea? ..... I mean, the Dictionary."

“You’re my little sister, the only one I have, and I want you to last long in life so I can have a long life with you. I love you so much Zoe.” He said all this while standing in front of her, kissing his own hand.

While eating pizza happily, Des was observing Zoe and commented, “Wow! Did you see her? She ate that so fast! She’s feasting on knowledge!"

“Ewwwww! Your breath is hilariously stinky!”

"I love you mom, I love you almost as much as I love Zoe."

"Do I rock? I ROCK don’t I? Our family ROCKS!!"

"Do you know why I obey Jesus Christ?

Because I love him!"

"Mommy, I have a secret that I don’t want you to tell anybody . . . in real life I'm a really nice boy, but right now, I’m not so nice."

I pointed out on a early Saturday morning that Des and Zoe had awoken earlier than they usually do on weekdays for school (in which, of course, they are VERY sleepy and don’t want to wake up.) Des explained in defense, “That’s because we’d like to wake up ourselves, not a big construction of WAKE UP!”

While giving Desi a goodnight kiss, He drew back and said, “You smell like the airport.”

I asked Desi one morning, before he departed for school, how his room looked, he replied dramatically, "Destroyed, awful, experimental!"

"I love to be back scratched. Give me some scratch-backen'!"

.

Maternal Crises by Foucault

Desmond Jones loves taking the bus to school. Zoe and I walk down with him every school morning and goof off until the bus comes. I always shout good morning to the driver and advise Desmond to go easy during the morning and afternoon bus bartering sessions – the toy trade is quite vigorous and I worry about what the little kindergartners are being coaxed into giving up in exchange for Desmond’s broken castoffs.

One morning this fall, the bus pulled up and the front right tire was on FIRE. I processed the information with some alarm and called out to the driver that there was fire. He looked at me and nodded. I was puzzled. He just sat there calmly, seeming to imply that all was OK. I responded, “Yeah?” and then let my son approach the bus to get on.

{Shall I pause here so you can shake your finger at me? I know, I know you would NEVER do such a thing!}

Before the bus approached, Nathan had come down the drive to take his morning run. We had teasingly pulled him into a family group hug before we let him depart – one of Nathan’s funny charms is that he embarrasses easily about public displays of affection (though he would have acted the same inside the house, come to think of it.) Anyway, he had just walked on before the bus pulled up and happened to glance back as Des was heading toward it . . .

{All embarrassment of affection shattered}

Nathan’s arms flew into the air and he began to jump and shout madlymadlymadly, “Desmond!!! DON’T get on the bus!! Get away from the BUS!”

{I just stood there}

The driver was sufficiently alarmed and got up to take a look. He saw the fire and returned in a lumbering fashion to retrieve the fire extinguisher. We watched. My arms around mybabes.

This was all seriously troubling.

I realized the bus driver hadn’t heard me and thought I was giving him my regular greeting from the road. Nathan philosophically tried to placate me by classifying the experience as a typical Foucault case: I had perceived the bus driver in a position of authority and even though I knew that FIRE was usually BAD, I conceded judgment to him as he knew more about vehicles than I did.

{Little comfort, little comfort.}



...

It feels good

Things feel kind of normal now – or the kind normal that I’ve observed and admired in happy, busy American families.

For instance:

* He reads for 20minutes every night and has regular homework.

* She is making little friends and asking for sleepovers.

* I have a car (it’s been 8years) and drive my children around all by myself.

* I can go to the grocery store – a big one – whenever I want. I can choose from a bounteous variety of yummy things. I can get multiple heavy items (e.g. 6 cans of beans, 5lbs of flour, a gallon of milk, potatoes, onions, apples, etc.) and not have to calculate the weight for the walk&carry home. It’s been 8 years of such restraint!

* We have a church family again

and I’m teaching Gospel

Doctrine and Nathan was scooped up by the Branch Presidency.

* We have neighbors that speak our language and a community we can participate in -- we’ve been to a barn dance and school board meetings and fundraisers and cub scout bonfires and regattas, preschool potlucks, libraries, dinner parties, TAG SALES, art museum socials, farms for fresh produce and New England road trips!!!

OH MY HEART!

If I never get a job that brings income again, I am confident -- and a little giddy -- at the prospect of my life fullfullfull of these things.

A New Home

It's still a little hard to believe but we let that return ticket to Kazakhstan pass us by and we packed our things and moved to VERMONT.

:::breathin, breathout:::

It couldn't be more to my liking and I think this is the

S e a s o n o f H e a t h e r

I've always dreamed of living in New England, frolicking through the small liberal arts colleges, living in an old house, surrounding myself with great local farm food and animals, having New England-y neighbors -- it's been a HUGE romantic mystique for me.

HUGE

And it's all come true. Come take a look into our new lives . . .

Here's the PLACE we're renting

Here are the FRIENDLY CREATURES we socialize with

Here's NATHAN -- adjunct teacher extraordinaire -- he's teaching the Anthropology of Islamic Societies at Bennington College (liberal arts college extraordinaire!)

Here's my big 1ST GRADER BOY independently marching down to the bus/getting on the bus

Here we are in Massachusetts PRESSING CIDER with our former NYC friends , the Blosils -- they're living the dream too!

{drop the apple and wipe that man's (mr. kent blosil) brow!}


Here are some pics of the beyond-our-wildest-dreams FARM and property

{:::sigh:::}

Here is the CAR we now own after 8years of having no car. I can drive my own babes around to places. It's REALLY cool.{hello chickens!}

Here's my LITTLEDEARDAUGHTER, she's a preschooler and loving it

{here she is with her yoga-loving, soon-to-be youngfarmergirl teacher}

Here are mybabes on the treasured TIRE SWING

Here's my beloved BOYSCOUT and his Tiger Den group. I'm a Den Leader!

We're happy.

{in Concord, MA)

Tag sales in the USA and other joys -- to come! to come!

Patient Parenting

Does everyone feel this way? You know, that your children are CRAZY?! I had a moment the other night when we were out with our friend, Victoria, where I felt true powerlessness to curb, moderate, control or STOP them from going completely out of control.

We had been out walking, enjoying the sunshine and the water and the fountains. We came upon this low red rock wall and as Des climbed up onto it, we noticed that the bright brick-red color of the rock rubbed right off onto his hands and clothes. He immediately began to rub his hands all over the rocks. He then wiped his hands all over his face. RED SMEARS. Then Zoe joined in and did the same thing, not leaving her clothes untouched. I was earnestly advising from the sidelines, my pitch going up, my voice becoming more and more frantic . . .

Mom? Who’s Mom? What is a Mom?

I was utterly unheeded. I was ignored. I was the wind in the willows. I was less than red dust smeared onto freckled cheeks.

I was too adult.

Victoria was beside me, at first fascinated, she let out little squeaks of surprised laughter. As I bellowed, as I plead, she became more delighted – she curled, she jumped, she eventually, joyfully, laughed and reached for her camera.

So I’m left to wonder about my will verses theirs. The Indigo Girls have this song called, “Deconstruction” one of the verses reads like this: Sculpted from youth/The chipping away/Makes me weary.

I’m weary with chipping.

My developing theory, based on experience and a wish for better parenting, is that it takes time for the countless values and rules to be processed by little minds virtually blank of the nuances of appropriate behavior. It’s a slow accumulation, like the ideas of Patient Capital – where investments are not aggressive ones demanding immediate profitable returns. But are more patient, generous reserves that prosper slowly and sustainably and that ultimately benefit more than just self.

Oh, and sometimes it’s good just to laugh.

Vika with Zoe – with a formidable person approaching in the background!

Arghhhh . . . TACKLED!

We are creatures out of your control!! Waaahaaaaa!

Here we are finally in front of our apartment building. We had to take a 25minute bus ride home after the incident. It was scandalous and rollicking good fun all the way . . . for them that is.

Zoe en Voice

“I know a story of a girl who’s mommy flushed her down the toilet and then she flushed her back up and said, ‘Oh no, mysweetie’s in the toilet!’ And then she put her in the bath and then she was shiny and she washed the tub and it was shiny and then they were happy. And I know that. "

Our chandelier drops it’s glassy orbs regularly. I found Zoe holding onto one like a jewel and asked her about it, “I call it the Crystal of Change.”

Over dinner one night Z wondered about the beef in her stir fry, specifically where it came from. After I gently, generally explained, she became very stern having deduced the gore I didn't go into, “ O.K. That is BAD. BAD. BAD.” She gave me a severe thumbs down and continued, “They killed a cow and that is BAD. I’m not eating a cow ever again!”

Des has been trying to negotiate for a late night where we all stay up, as long as we want, and then all go to bed together. In the same bed. I have, so far, resisted. One night, Zoe felt suddenly triumphant as I continued to postpone and hedge on the idea. She announced wickedly, “When WE’RE grownups, we’ll send OUR children to bed and then stay up ALL NIGHT.” She then laughed a cruel laugh, “HaHaHaHaHa.”

Look at the sun in the water! It’s wonderful!

Mom, know what? I love you!

I want Grandma!

Zoe often has me pretend to be grandma. She’ll pack her bags and pretend to take a train and then ‘arrive’ calling me grandma. She’ll sit on my lap and tell me about her journey and say that she wants to stay with grandma forever.

I asked Zoe to wash the crumbs off her face. She informed me that she already did and explained that it was her “uncle” stuck to her face. She meant freckle.

Zoe: Des? I want to be the mom to your children.

Des: We can’t marry each other cause you’re my sister.

“I’m done with that thing, I’m done with it!” Her response to my oft repeated phrase that I only help a girl who helps herself.

Can we get a rain-bella because it’s raining?

Look at the clouds! I wish I was a cloud . . . a pink one.

During the first few moments after waking up for a school morning, Zoe pulls away from a hug and looks up at me, “Can we go back to bed?” I let several seconds pass. She spoke up again, “Is that a ‘NO’?”

Mom, can you do something you did last year?

After a dinner prayer, before we ate our spinach quiche, Zoe grumbled, “I don’t like this food! I’m not grateful for it!”

Zoe: Am I beautiful?

Nathan: Yes! You are beautiful!

Zoe: Yay! (To me) Know what daddy said? I am beautiful!

I want to keep you and never lost you! I don’t want to ever lost you!

While brushing Zoe’s hair we hit a snag. To defuse the pain I asked, “Wow! Where did that tangle come from?” Zoe answered, “I don’t know . . . I think from God.”

Over a dinner Zoe was refusing to eat, Nathan was attempting to philosophically reason with her about the benefits of eating vrs. starving. Zoe ended the conversation thus, “I get to choose what I do!” and then added, after Nathan called her ‘stubborn’, “You call me that and I call you Malfoy!”

After teaching Zoe the term ‘body of water’ as we walking by our nearby river, she later referred to it as, “A big water of a man.”

I asked Zoe one afternoon after school who she helped that day. She replied, “I helped nobody. I helped nobody two times.”

I wish Grandma was with us and even your sisters!

Desi Candor

Des had a wound that merited a bandage. This was a big deal because not all wounds get bandages – they think everything should be bandaged, even if it’s a week old. Zoe said with approval, “You’re Dr. Mom!” Desi added, “Zoe’s the Dr. of Love,” (she’d helped him on the playground when he fell) “And I’m the Assistant of Fun!”

I noticed a lot of little white fluffy things out on our balcony and I asked Des what they were, he replied, “I don’t know. It might be terminal bacteria”

I’m going to pretend I’m a porcupine now.

“Who taught you all this BRILLIANT stuff?” Des asked me after a homeschool lesson on teeth.

I’ve had a couple of conversations with Des encouraging him not to use the word ‘fat’ when describing people. One evening he was talking about a character in a movie he’d just watched and was struggling to find the right words, he asked me, “What’s the modest way to say FAT?” Before I could reply, he’d found his descriptive words, “One was a short, round, CIRCLEST kid!”

Since I was in your tummy, I’ve been scared of the dark.

*

DPJ WORD DISSTORTIONS

Word: Instructions Des Distortion: Destructions

Word: Robbers Des Distortion: Robs

Word: Snot DD: Snod

Word: Disgusting DD: Excusting

Word: Ax DD: Ox

Word: Snickers (candybar) DD: Sneakers

Word: Skeleton DD: Skell

*

“I thought they’d give me lollipops for change.” He was explaining his first successful, sans mom, errand to the next door market for cucumbers.

“My feet are all sogged.” After walking through a big puddle of water in Tashkent.

Hi! My sweet little mommy!

“Fanta and Sprite are better than Coca Cola.” Des explained. I replied, “Oh yeah? Why?” He answered, “Because Coke has KATHLEEN in it.” [Kathleen is his grandmother’s name]

Des recently said he was including, “sandmuncher” on his personal bad-words-not-to-say list.

In a previous post, I explained our family behavior enhancement Point System. Des reasoned one afternoon after an omission, “I don’t lose a point, I just don’t get a point!”

During an intense hugging session Desi shouted out, “I love everyone in the whole universe, even the bad guys!”

On a recent Saturday, Des&Zoe were in high anticipation to spend the day at the house of Desi’s friend Tanamirzah. D graciously included Z in his plans, before checking with the family. After finding out that she couldn’t go after all, Zoe was devastated! As the bell announced their arrival, I tried to usher Des to the door but he resisted, “Wait! I wanna do something nice for Zoe!” He disappeared into their bedroom and returned saying, “I gave her my last piece of nice paper, permission to play with all my toys . . .” He turned back to the bedroom, “Look at her! It’s so sad!”

One of the (countless) things we’re working on with the Point System is turning off lights. Des recently observed Zoe leaving the bathroom and then gave me the play-by-play, “She was t h i n k i n g . . . She had an ‘OH!’ on her face . . . and then she ran back to turn off the light!”

During a happy a.m. cuddle, “Oh, WOW! We’re together! Even Zoe’s choking me!”

After hitting his leg on a hard surface and letting out a few tempered shouts. Des announced, “I didn’t cry! I didn’t cry! That means I’m getting better at getting bigger. You don’t cry when you’re bigger.”

I wish your parents called you Goofy Mom.

Des reported a middle of the night good deed, “I helped Zoe off the floor last night then went back to bed and HIT THE SACK!” I laughed heartily at this, then catching on, he began to repeat, “Hit the sack,” while I laughed on cue.

I’m an inappropriate movie.

My Little Boy's Pockets

He has myheart in there, right next to the bottlecaps.

I was speaking with a friend the other day, who has a 4yearold little boy, and she was telling me about how her son always has his pockets full of thingsthingsthings he’s collected.

Wow! Did I smile and suddenly love LITTLE BOYS -- 10times more than my already 100x100 times. These littleboyquirks are completely new and wondrous to me. I grew up with girlsgirlsgirls – we ruled.

Desmond P. Jones, is a voracious littleboy collector. His eyes are constantly probing the ground for the precious things he knows it will yield. Recent finds have been: a broken Mickey Mouse alarm clock, used notebooks, empty matchboxes, rocks, pinecones, plastic bags, clothespins, playing cards, broken toys, fireworks casings, and, of course, bottlecaps — he even harvests other kids’ drawings from the garbage at school. When we were in Philadelphia for a month last summer, we began scheduling treasure hunts. Our neighborhood, in East Falls, has very grand old houses and on garbage day the things waiting on the curbs will make you sparkle. Des simply exploded. Every Monday, we would leave after breakfast with our bags and race against the trucks for the cast-off goods -- I was hoping for old furniture and books, he would take just about anything.

To emphasize the limitless possibilities of people’s trash, we went to a gallery on South Street that was filled with sculptures made from refuse – toys, electronics, furniture, etc. – we were in there for over an hour and Des was COMPLETELY inspired. Ha!

I secretly hope all this will refine into a passion for flea markets and yard sales and that we will be antiquing buddies all over the WORLD!

Happy Earth Day!
Go raid/recycle some garbage.

Geeezz. . . it's like pulling teeth to get me to blog these days?

WHY?

I don't know if I have an answer to that question.

Thebabes&I had two weeks together due to spring break -- Nooruz -- Persian New Year. We don't live in Iran or anything (yet) but the Kazakhs dig the holiday. Similar Muslim roots, I suppose.

I was nervous about it. Spending all that time with mybabes, I mean. I know I just spent two months with them, out of school and bouncing all over the land, and survived. I wasn't really nervous about it in anticipation either. But I worried about this 2week break because I'd gotten some freetime to myself again and it's hard to let that go. Mostly, and maybe it's related, I don't like the part of me that hollers instead of talks, or to put it poetically, gently persuades them. Hollering is much easier and when my mind is numb, I holler.

Mybabes are really cool and I don't want them to think hollering is what you do to cool people.

Cause it's not.

Sometimes I like to tell myself that I see them first as people. And that comes second to seeing me as mother. I've tried to think about this a lot and this is what I mean: They are people first, independent of me as their mother. It's like, if I wasn't their mother, Des&Zoe would still be people, sentient beings.

This makes total sense, right?

Well, it does for me and so when I let myself really go with this idea, and here's my point, I treat them differently. Because they're people, not just littlechildren who annoy me sometimes and don't know anything about the world adults created and frankly aren't learning quickly enough. I see them growing up into adults with MEMORIES of these littlepeople moments with me and I want them to remember how well respected they were, how they were guided to see the possibilities within themselves and the duty they have to live with purpose -- and it makes me feel responsible to their adultpeople selves.

How can hollering convey all that?

Anyway, I really don't like to holler.

Oh, so if you can indulge me some more on this ___fill in the blank___ thought (I could suggest *insightful* or if all this is a great bore, though you're still reading!, *self-indulgent*)

I came up with a family motto, challenge, path -- if you will.

LIVING WITH PURPOSE
{so let it be written}

I have not read any parenting books so this might all be wrongwrongwrong per conventional wisdom (discuss this with me backchannel) but I wanted to inspire our littleforevergroup with some family principles. Yes. Finally.

Here they are -- The P's of PURPOSE

*Planning - Family Councils every Sunday night to review the below principles and inspire each other and schedule/plan our week.

*Points - Behavior Enhancement they earn points when they self-activate -- *remember and do* -- the pre-recorded messages I've declared since forever -- things like all the morning steps of makingbed, brushingteeth, gettingdressed; in addition to little courtesies like taking their dishes to the sink when finished, flushing the toilet, keeping toys off the floor, folding their clothes and putting them away, etc. I was getting sick to my stomach at the thought of spending two weeks in perpetual repetition of said steps&courtesies. When they remember these things, without me reminding them, they get points toward computergametime. 60pts=30mins // 120pts=60mins. Desi finally tallied 60pts on the final day of springbreak! Zoe was still 15pts off.

*Possibilities - To recognize the possibilities in our lives and set goals to achieve them. For example: Desi wants to learn how to bounce/dribble his beachball more effectively. Zoe wants to finally wipe her own bum. I want to read my scriptures every day. Nathan wants to find a job.

*Projects - Discuss and plan service projects and fun activities together.

*Progress - Temporal & Spiritual learning and growth. Setting a high premium on knowledge and obedience, education and meditation, and on living an examined life (I've been listening to Socrates:))

*Provident Living - Financial Management and Ethics. Boy oh boy, is that ever something we need to recognize as relevant in our lives. Darn it. Why does money have to be so important? Blech!

*Pure Religion -- Acknowledging the goodness of God and our relationship with him and our duty to love as he would love and live as he would live.

(Lots of biblical bits in John, 1st chapter, pulled all these together for me.)

The end.

p.s. A few pics below

Happy Easter!
{I love eggs with the coup still clinging to them}












This is Genia and I at the St. Patricks Day celebrations at Samal School. We were helping my Peace Corp friend Shannon with her little party. The Samal School is for disabled young adults. Genia is from Pav but spent the last 2years in NYC with her husband&son, who is Zoe's age, and it's oh-so-nice to have someone who can relate to living outside ones country.



















This is Desmond's schoolfriend, Tanamirzah. They are great buddies. We've dined at their house -- great Kazakh food -- and eaten out in a pizza restaurant (Tana's mother, Fatima, ordered *4* pizza's for she&I&our 3children!) and hung out with them at our place. They even want us to do banya with them. Isn't it cool how friends get together and bathe? Fun.














This is the playground right outside our apartment building (shown in background, on right side). This was taken two weeks ago, the snow is melted now and thebabes can't get enough sunshine -- they want to be outside all the time. Yipeee!!

This is Zoe with Fatima when we were at their house for a Kazakh Food Fest! Fatima is lovely, she was Miss. Pavlodar once. She taught me how to cook this really great chicken and potato dish that they served us that afternoon. She found herself in my kitchen a couple of weeks later and suggested we make it together. SO FUN.