Why I Wake Early

Motherhood is like yoga or poetry in that it takes all of the awareness you have and puts it in the present moment. When I feed the baby in the morning, I've been reading from this collection of poems by Mary Oliver that makes me think about the present moment in beautiful ways. As I feed him, I look at his little eyes, nose, ears, and mouth and compare them to those tiny, tiny hands of his. There's mystery and wonder there. And the title of the collection, Why I Wake Early, certainly fits the occasion!

Hello, Sun in my face.
Hello, you who made the morning
and spread it over the fields and
into the faces of tulips
and the nodding morning glories
and into the windows of, even, the
miserable and the crotchety-

best preacher that ever was,
dear star, that just happens
to be where you are in the universe
to keep us from ever darkness,
to ease us with warm touching,
to hold us in the great hands of light-
good morning, good morning, good morning.

Watch, now, how I start the day
in happiness, in kindness.

- Mary Oliver

Happy Valentine's Day

Happy Valentine's Day to my two favorite guys who make up my whole world. And to all my wonderful, supportive friends out there. I love you.

A Birth Poem

Twelve days ago, I gave birth. As I labored in the hospital, I was aware that I would be missing my dear old friend’s great big birthday bash that night. Diagnosed eight months ago with neuro-endocrine cancer, my friend recently learned she probably has less than six months to live. Deciding not to wait for her birthday later on in the year, a huge party was organized in her honor.

While I am overflowing with joy at the birth of my son, and the birth of my motherhood, I hardly know how to begin to say goodbye to someone who has always been there with me, through nursery, primary, junior high and high school, boyfriends, weddings, and more. I am struck by how seemingly polar opposites can hit our lives at the same time.

The Trimurti

I wore a necklace throughout my pregnancy
A trinity charm, swirled into one
Creator, Sustainer, and Purger

For all three sometimes come at once
And they often do at a birth, I suppose.
I crouch upward—breathing, pushing, exhaling
With all I have and more, then sink back,
Eyes shut, catching my breath
All of the moment in my heart.

I smile then—truly
Because I know nothing but love and intensity
For this baby boy

While I lay there
Another birthday is celebrated—
Really, it isn’t exactly her birthday
But if you had less than six months
You’d celebrate early too

Thirty years, her last milestone.
Shiva, do you know you take a mother of five babes?
What do you want to purge? I dare not ask why.

The Creator smiled on us that day twenty years ago
She and I sat over our cross-stitch, two merry misses
When Mother called from two houses down
To witness a birth
My calico calm, near serene, purred her kitten into life
With her hypnotic humming

And I, struggling to do things right
Hastened to tie the thin, red thread around the chord,
When he began to chirp, hardly a mew.

The Sustainer is come to stop time.
I never watch the ticking clock
And beheld with ecstatic surprise,
When they place his warm, slippery body on my chest.
And the weather is so mild

February forgot its season
At my back door a crocus pushes its tender leaves upward
Childhood is not unlike motherhood: gently aware of only now

Motherhood is not unlike the yoke
Of rainbow connections and pulsing sensations
I love, I feel, I know, I heal
As we vibrate to the lullaby
I sing in the key of present tense

Favorite Fan Pics

From his #1 fan, here are some favorite pics from the last few days:

Getting ready for first outing. To the midwife's! Yea!

All tuckered out after a visit from the sandman.

"I are serious baby."

Nothing like a little fetal position curl on Aunt Stina.

Pregnancy Book Reviews

Mayo Clinic Guide to a Healthy Pregnancy by Mayo Clinic


My rating: 5 of 5 stars
By far the best pregnancy book out there. Much better than the most popular pregnancy book, which I borrowed and read a couple of years ago (you know which one I mean). First thing, this is a resource with academic credentials written by 2 OBs and 1 CNM and endorsed by the Mayo Clinic, v. the "mom" credentials of the other book where the author has no academic credentials. The differences go on from there.

Each month is broken out by explaining what is happening to baby and what's happening to mom. There are checklists and signs of when to address certain issues with your health care provider. The next sections deal with labor, delivery, and all sorts of information about your newborn. There are also important decision-making guides such as choosing yours or your baby's health care providers, managing pain during childbirth, circumcision, etc. A great glossary and index as well. Can't say enough positive things about this resource, which I'm still using almost daily.

View all my reviews >>

HypnoBirthing: The Mongan Method: A natural approach to a safe, easier, more comfortable birthing by Marie F. Mongan


My rating: 3 of 5 stars
While I'd only give the book 3 stars, I'd give the method 4 or 5. The book shouldn't stand alone and should be supplemented by the class and daily practice. The book itself is not very well written or professional. It's a little dogmatic and vague about techniques. Also, I don't like how there are different chapters on breathing, relaxation, and visualization. Instead, I wish these chapters were organized by techniques to be used in different phases of labor so you'd have all the breathing, relaxation, and visualization techniques for active labor combined in one chapter. This would make sense because this is how they are used together anyway.

As far as HypnoBirthing in general goes, let me first say that this method requires a lot of dedication. Not all moms have the time or energy to devote an hour or more each day to the affirmations, relaxation sessions, birth companion rehearsals, or classes that this method requires for at least the last 2 months of pregnancy. I have no problems with a traditional medical birth, but I thought that hypnosis would benefit me in other ways, and if a pain-free, medicine-free birth is an actual valid option, I was willing to invest in the program. Besides, all the CNMs in my clinic said that they thought HypnoBirthing was by far the most effective way of going unmedicated.

I experienced firsthand that hypnosis does relieve sharp, intense pain during contractions. When I was in the hospital and in deep hypnosis while listening to one of the CDs, it appeared as if I were asleep or as if my contractions had ceased altogether. This wasn't the case - I was perfectly relaxed and only barely able to detect when I was having a contraction. When I had to become fully alert to make some decisions about some unforeseen circumstances in my labor, I was able to again feel the full force of these contractions - which was almost too intense to bear. So yes, hypnosis can definitely work if one is allowed to stay in a deep state of relaxation. It's when you're not in that deep state that pain is a lot harder to manage.

Because of some unforeseen medical circumstances, my labor had to be artificially progressed with pitocin and I was given a "walking" epidural that didn't work on the left side. This put me in the 30% of HypnoMoms who needed some form of medical pain management (versus the 95% of regular moms who use medical pain management). Because I could still feel sharp pain in the left side after the epidural, the HypnoBirthing techniques continued to be useful throughout the medicated part of my labor. The epidural also completely wore off for the last hour of pushing, which necessitated me to use the techniques I had learned to birth my baby without pain or any significant tearing.

My labor was 26 hours. I feel that for most births that proceed according to plan and progress more naturally, HypnoBirthing would be even more effective. Despite my 14 hours of unmedicated labor followed by 10 hours of partially-medicated labor, followed by 2 hours of pushing, I feel very satisfied with how things went. HypnoBirthing had prepared me to calmly meet any circumstances that were medically necessary that fell outside my birth plan. What's more, the daily practice was immensely useful duing my last few months of pregnancy. I never cried or became overwhelmed like many full-term moms are, which I attribute to daily unwinding to a self-hypnosis/relaxation CD. In addition, my baby is quietly alert and calm, a mark common to babies whose moms used HypnoBirthing.

I think women should have the right to choose what works best for them. I'm not dogmatic about unmedicated labor, but I know it works for people who put in the time and dedication. It's great to have options.

View all my reviews >>

Greetings

This afternoon I stepped out on the back porch and was greeted by:

• Very mild temperatures
• Warm, bright sunlight
• Two attention-hungry kitties
• Tiny little crocus stems

All within 12 inches of where I sat. I stayed out there for a few minutes, snuggling my kitties. When I returned back into the house, I was greeted by a very quietly alert baby.

Heaven.

They said this section of the GRE wouldn't be directly applicable

But they were wrong.

For my GRE, there was an analytical section that was my best section of the test. You'd get fun story problems to solve, little riddles. Kevin had the same on his LSATs. I actually always loved this stuff. So who knew this would ever come in handy and apply to my life at the point where I'm most overwhelmed, tired, and not up for it? Here's the problem:

Patient Z is a first-time mom who was discharged from the hospital this week. Each new mom is prescribed a number of standard medications, but Patient Z has a couple of additional conditions requiring more medications than usual (anemia and mastitis). Help her figure out a schedule for her medications, food, and best sleeping time slots.

• Med A: Take 3 times a day with food and water every 8 hours.
• Med B: Take 2 times a day, morning and night.
• Med C: Take once a day at a meal.
• Med D: Take 2 times a day 2 hours after and 1 hour before any dairy, eggs, or whole grains are consumed, and at least 30 minutes before laying down or sleeping, and should be taken several hours before or after Med C, which contains some of Med D in smaller quantities.
Take 2 doses as far apart from each other as possible.
• Med E: Take 4-6 times a day as needed at least 4 hours apart (and take evenly spaced from each other), best with food and water (Patient Z decides to only take 3 times a day).
• Med F: Take 4 times a day 2 hours after and 1 hour before any food and cannot be taken with Med D. Doses should be taken evenly spaced from each other.

Patient Z is also recommended to try to sleep as much as she can during both the day and the night and take her medications during the 16-hour daytime block as opposed to the full 24-hour period. She is also told to eat every 2 hours if possible, day and night, and she prefers to eat whole grains and dairy whenever she can, particularly at breakfast.

After one night of me breaking down with how overwhelming my medication schedule was, Kevin took this to task using his new Excel skills from his MPA classes and he's figured it out to our satisfaction. Can you? I'm off to sleep some more.

Four days old, How do you like the world so far?

Sweet Little Baby, four days old

How do you like the world so far?

Sweet Little Baby, four days old

What a lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky boy you are

Not every baby is lucky enough to have one of the Tabernacle Choir's former stars come and sing him his happy four-day-old song, but this is one lucky boy!

Welcome, Baby Asher. I am overcome with joy to be your mom.

And a note to my friend Jen - don't worry, I won't overdo the song for him (playing it at every birthday until he's 30, and so on). :)

New Arrival

Now I can say I know what euphoria feels like.

Gravity

The more massive a planet is, the more it creates an attraction with other objects.

So I wonder when our planet started getting so much more massive, pulling me in. I can definitely feel more of an attraction. Going down stairs, my belly leads the way. My back sways to compensate. Maybe if I just lay down, so flat and close to the earth, it will all feel better...

(Hey, watch what you say people. I may be 39 weeks, but I surge with crazy momma bear hormones.)

Boarded the train there's no getting off

I'm a riddle in nine syllables,
An elephant, a ponderous house,
A melon strolling on two tendrils.
O red fruit, ivory, fine timbers!
This loaf's big with its yeasty rising.
Money's new-minted in this fat purse.
I'm a means, a stage, a cow in calf.
I've eaten a bag of green apples,
Boarded the train there's no getting off.
- Sylvia Plath

There tends to be quite a bit of discussion on whether or not Plath was happy about pregnancy when she wrote this poem. There's all kinds of analysis available (that bag of green apples means she's suffering from Eve's curse, etc. etc.) I don't think it has to show either happiness or misery or be looked into too much beyond the fabulous metaphors - at this stage in pregnancy, it is what it is.

Eight Years

Happy Anniversary to my wonderful husband!

Happy Christmas

Here's wishing you a very Merry Christmas and a peaceful new year, from our home to yours.

Oh, and if it strikes your fancy, adding a little eggnog, egg, and vanilla to cinnamon bread makes the most delicious French toast ever. So have a delicious holiday, too!

Twilight Zone: 12 Days of Christmas

While I was feeling particularly whiny on facebook today, my friend Deborah commented that recent events seem like a "Twilight Zone version of the 12 days of Christmas." Taking her inspiration, I've decided to catalogue some of the great December happenings for me and mine. Then, I'll ask that the solstice brings us something better in the near future.

For the record, I normally don't like the "Twelve Days of Christmas." It's too long and takes up valuable time when good songs could be heard. So let's just start at #12.

In the last 12 days of winter, December gave to me:

• Never enough chocolate
• Phoebe killed a robin
• Near-fainting at the dentist
• Cat barf on the carpet
• Mom’s got a flu bug
• Kevin’s got a cold
• Bats in my office
• Beta jumped the bowl
• Dad’s chemo on Christmas
• My first speeding ticket
• A backhoe-torn up yard
• And a mainline sewer redo!

Happy Holidays!

Gawking 2009

Some of you might remember last year's post, where I described our tradition of "gawking" at the Christmas lights and lawn ornaments in nearby neighborhoods.

The last couple of weekends, Kevin and I have been using our date nights to hit up Starbucks for some signature hot chocolates (with added caramel) and see where we can find the best--and the worst--lights.

We're surprised to find out that none of the homes featured in last year's post put up their crazy, weird decor this year (maybe they caught wind of my blog?).

But never fear, there's nothing like a 10-foot lighted giraffe with a Rudolph nose that says Merry Christmas.

Christmas Cards

Nothing like coming home from a crazy day of work to forget about it all: forget about the stress, forget the students who come grasping for points at the end of the semester, forget the huge hole they dug to replace our sewer line, forget the fact I won't be getting Christmas cards out this year, forget that I haven't finished my shopping.

And instead I turn on the music, pour myself a glass of light eggnog, cuddle up with the kitty next to the tree, and read the Christmas cards from friends who were so good to think of us. It really makes my evening.

Snow Geese

Lately, I've had less time to do blogging. The grading is piling up, and I have several key deliverables going out to clients this week. Add in trying to take care of myself and go to my birthing classes and do my baby-prep reading, and well, you get the idea.

So, amidst all the holiday craziness, I want to take a moment and pause on the present but transient moments, passing and beautiful. I hope you enjoy this poem as much as I do.

Snow Geese
by Mary Oliver

Oh, to love what is lovely, and will not last!
What a task
to ask
of anything, or anyone,
yet it is ours,
and not by the century or the year, but by the hours.
One fall day I heard
above me, and above the sting of the wind, a sound
I did not know, and my look shot upward; it was
a flock of snow geese, winging it
faster than the ones we usually see,
and, being the color of snow, catching the sun
so they were, in part at least, golden. I
held my breath
as we do
sometimes
to stop time
when something wonderful
has touched us
as with a match,
which is lit, and bright,
but does not hurt
in the common way,
but delightfully,
as if delight
were the most serious thing
you ever felt.

The geese
flew on,
I have never seen them again.
Maybe I will, someday, somewhere.
Maybe I won't.
It doesn't matter.
What matters
is that, when I saw them,
I saw them
as through the veil, secretly, joyfully, clearly.

Let us rise up and be thankful

"Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn't learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn't learn a little, at least we didn't get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn't die; so, let us all be thankful." - Buddha

My dad made little placecards for everyone at Thanksgiving, and this quote was on mine. I love that we all have something simple and basic to be grateful every day.

I've been fortunate enough to have some extra time off of work this weekend that coincided with time off from grading and preparing lessons for my night job. I loved the simplicity as I got to spend time with Kevin, to put up my tree, to go walking outside, to sing in my "Messiah" rehearsals, to nap, to spend time with our families and to prepare our nursery.

Tomorrow will be a busy day at work as I return, but I feel well cared for and prepared for it. There's always something to be grateful for.

Looking Back and Forward

Today I finished cutting back the 16 or 17 rose bushes lining our 80-foot driveway for the winter. I started trimming them the second to last Saturday in October, but because of finicky weather and my schedule only allowing me to work on them on Saturdays it has taken this long to finish the job.

As I was trimming them, I could smell the rose fragrance lingering on the leaves and in the green stems. I thought about the several 70- and 80-something couples on my street who also have roses. The older men will take care of almost anything in the yard, but their wives tend to the roses. My next door neighbor told me that the woman who planted the roses in my yard decades ago was very proud of them and bought some very expensive prize bushes. Tending to these roses, I felt I was carrying on a feminine legacy - that maybe this woman (who has passed on) might be glad that here was another woman who cares for these roses just as she had.

Cutting back roses in a significant way requires some physical positions which can be awkward when you're two months away from having a baby, but I eventually became used to bending, squatting, and standing again, which I figure can only be good preparation for labor. Thinking of these feminine acts, both of preparing for labor and nurturing gardens, brought me to think of my own female ancestors. My grandma on my dad's side has always loved her roses and brought their scent into her home. During the summer, she always has some cut to show her guests. My mom's mother had a green thumb and took great care over her magnificent flower gardens. I remember that she could take a cut and put it under a bottle in her garden and somehow grow a rose bush from the stem.

As I thought on these memories, small in their way but miraculous when you consider the beauty and life force behind earth, plants, and caretakers, this work became more like a ceremony for me. As I cut the roses back, I prepared them for late spring when they will again take off magnificently. By then I hope to show my new baby the beauty and brightness of these blossoms I have nurtured like the many women who have come before me.

And, for a classic story about cutting back roses, check out last year's post.

Pregnancy Things I Love and Not-so-much

First, the Love:

• Feeling like it's perfectly legitimate to negate the benefits of my 2-mile lunch walk by grabbing a hot chocolate on the way back to the office
• Cute little boy clothes!
• Good excuses to buy things
• A reason to set Kevin remodeling (he's a great sport)
• Realizing there's always another little person with me, especially when he moves

And the things that are Not-so-much:

• Being exhausted at two o'clock in the afternoon, or at eight o'clock in the evening
• Not ever finding that comfortable sleeping position, even after taking up 2/3 of the bed
• Realizing there's so much I have to do
• Kicks in the lungs with accompanying lightheadedness
• Severe hampering of my exercise rituals (although I think the change to standard time is also to blame)
• Tons of decisions. Who has time for that?

And just for fun:

A baby bump.

A Twitter Type of Journal

I've noticed that between working two jobs and being in my third trimester, I have little time or energy for much else. Facebook has of late become my preferred form of social communication because it's shorter and easier to keep up on than blogging. And even then I'm not very good at keeping up on it.

But as I progress further along and begin to look forward to this baby, I want to have some way of recording my thoughts, intentions, and insights. Which is why I purchased a small one of these yesterday.

Kevin has one of these and often writes very short blurbs in it. He calls it "tweeting his journal," referring to Twitter, which allows updates that are 140 characters (I'm @BristleconePine, btw).

As far as journal writing goes, I think that's something I can do as well. Yesterday's was the first entry: After a remarkable weekend full of friends and family, I feel so much love and support. I decided that my problems are much easier to handle, and I'll take my own problems any day over those others must face.

Baby Hungry, Baby Delicious

Every week I get an email from an infant formula company updating me on my baby's growth at his week of gestation. At first, he was as big as a pomegranate seed, then a grape. Later he was about the size of a small peach, then an orange.

They have to know what they're doing to the minds of me and pregnant women all over the country. Because my pregnancy has left me craving tart fruit and I am very susceptible to the power of suggestion, I can't but help feel the impressions of all these delicious fruits that are the same size as my baby. When I was sick with the stomach flu awhile back, the baby was about the size of a large grapefruit. And you know? Grapefruit was all I wanted to eat. Kevin was skeptical that it was the right sick food, but it was, and I ate the whole thing in about 10 minutes after not eating anything for days.

Last week the email said the baby is the size of a little pineapple. Can you guess what delicious fruit I've been craving all week? I'm thinking of nicknaming the baby "Little Pineapple."

October Crafts

I don't have a lot of time or skill for crafts, but occasionally, sitting at a computer all day gets to me and I want to get around to actually doing something. So, this is something that's like my kind of craft.

Should I tell you the supplies cost me $4 and it took about four minutes to make? Hmmm. Wouldn't want to destroy the mystique... if there is any.

A couple of weeks ago, I borrowed a hat knitting kit from a friend of a friend. I signed up with a Christian group to knit hats for the homeless, so I decided to make these youth hats. I've also made a couple of baby hats (one pictured on the right) for keeping or giving away. It feels good to actually *make* something for service with my hands, and it works very well for making me feel like I can get something done while I unwind.

Fall in Big Cottonwood Canyon

This photo doesn't do the leaves justice, but it's the reddish-orange ones I love the most. A perfect drive.

Sleeping Lessons

I've been playing this video over and over because I don't own it, but I love it. Maybe it's my pensive October mood, or just a feeling that I get from all of the contention out there, particularly the will so many have to dominate over others to build themselves up. But I've been thinking a lot about this, and I love the power in this song.

Sleeping Lessons (The Shins)

Go without,
Till the need seeps in
You low animal,
Collect your novel petals for the stem.

And glow.
Glow.
Melt and flow.
Eviscerate your fragile frame.
And spill it out on ragged floor.
A thousand different versions of yourself.

And if the old guards still offend,
They got nothing left on which you depend.
So enlist every ounce
Of your bright blood.
And off with their heads.

Jump from the hook.
You're not obliged to swallow anything you despise.
See, those unrepenting buzzards want your life,
And they got no right.
As sure as you have eyes,
They got no right.

Just put yourself in my new shoes.
And see that I do all I do.
Because the old guard still offends.
(Their pudgy hearts and slimy hands)
They got nothing left on which we depend.
So enlist every ounce
Of your bright blood.
And off with their heads.

Jump from the hook.
You're not obliged to swallow anything you despise,
That you despise.

25 Weeks

Here y'all go. (This is a different door, btw. Not that I would care about a thing like that.)

Total Eclipse of the Kitties

So I first took this picture because the cats are so cuddly with each other now that it's getting colder. But after viewing the photos, I realized it just looks like they should be cast in this terrible '80s video. Or, for something fun, try the literal version.

Turn around, bright eyes. Oh, and Aja's bum is shaped like a heart.

Noticing

Tonight I walked to our large park for my evening exercise. My hip and IT band have been giving me grief lately, signaling that I need to stop running until I buy a new pair of shoes. So, I donned my old running shoes and went walking instead.

After making my lap around the park, I decided to try out the swings. I was there, under an elm, my feet able to touch the high branches, looking at Mt. Olympus and Twin Peaks sheathed in the first snow, golden and shining in the glow of the sunset. The air was crisp, and my fingers started to feel numb with cold, but I kept swinging. These were the same mountains I'd look up at from my backyard swings growing up, as I would decompress the day by swinging and listening to my walkman.

As I swung tonight, I listened to my "Good Earth" playlist on my ipod - a playlist of folk songs. I felt this cool air. Autumn air has always made me feel that the mountains are speaking to me. As the breeze comes from the canyons, carrying the scent of leaves, pine, and campfires, it signals the turn of the season. I thought about the things that I'm putting away from summer, and looked forward to autumn:

• In summer I was running most days; now I will take more time for yoga and pilates
  
• In summer I spent time in my garden; now I'll spend time reading novels
  
• In summer I spent more time teaching; now I'll spend more time meditating
  
• In summer I ate fresh tomatoes every day; now I'll give myself leave to turn to comfort foods, such as zucchini bread and sweet potato pie

I think that this autumn is really a time for noticing miracles. Loved ones in my life are healthy and strong. Starting this weekend, the baby now has more than a 50/50 chance of survival after birth. The other night Kevin put his hand on my stomach and felt our baby move for the first time. To see the look on Kevin's face as father's gentle hand met son's little body through my abdomen reminded me what an astounding process new life is.

It's a great season.

The National Parks on PBS

It's great fun to take a break from grading and settle down with some pie. We turned on the TV to find a rebroadcast of this program on KUED. I'd meant to catch it over the weekend, but got a little too busy for it. How cool is it when TV does not disappoint?

Peaceful Equinox

To celebrate the last day of summer, I went running during the beautiful and cool evening. This was followed by a sweet kiss in the driveway as we watched this sunset and took inventory of our summer roses that are still in bloom.

The equinox seems significant this year. I'll enter this dark half of the year and emerge at the next equinox quite changed with a new addition to my life. There's something very grounding and earthy about pregnancy that places me and my body with the seasons. That inspires a certain trust in time and the process of nature. So while I see summer slipping away before my eyes, I can look ahead to wondrous events and know that, in only a few blinks of an eye, golden rays will again paint the sky and touch the roses in my garden.

Rainbow on Grandeuer Peak

This was the view out my living room window last night when I arrived from work. I love how even buried in this neighborhood - not even on the benches - I can see the storms on the mountains that tell me summer is coming to an end. Isn't it amazing that with all of our modern distractions and occupations, nature can still speak to us in ways that have been appreciated by our ancestors for thousands, if not millions, of years?

20-21 Weeks

I've officially reached the half-way mark! They usually count this at 20 weeks, when they can identify the gender and when the baby gains more recognition medically and more rights legally (in many ways he's already considered a little person). However, we all know that the first two weeks of pregnancy are pre-conception, so I'd like to say that now at 21 weeks I've made it half way.

I've been wanting to write this for a while, but I got sick and everything had to go on hold. I'm feeling better now and getting my strength (as well as my nutrients and fluids) back, so here you go. For over a month I've been able to feel the little guy squirming around in there, which I hear is a little early for a first-timer. Strangers are starting to notice my belly, and I have realized a protective hand on the stomach does wonders to confirm their suspicions (and hopefully keep their hands away).

So, to celebrate this half-way mark, here's my first belly pic. It may not look like much, but when I visually measure from my belly button to my back, there is definitely something taking up a lot of space already. Here's to hoping I can keep up the routines of working, teaching, walking, and running for many weeks more.

Baby Feet

Little feet and toes for our healthy baby boy! Yes, we still have to wait until January to meet him.

Green Zebras, Brandywines, Celebrities, Hamsons

When I had said I'd eat caprese every night for dinner, I didn't know how true that would be. Our garden is packed with tomatoes! We finished this bowl up tonight, and we've got another one overflowing.

Anyone up for a few delicious heirlooms?

Backyard

Didn't mean to squirt the praying mantis with the power nozzle.
Of course I divert the water elsewhere
And watch with admiration
As she determinedly crawls back atop the echinacea.

I turn off the faucet and rest on the porch step.
That aspen, straight ahead in the back, has grown
Slender, and straight.

One cricket starts up. I always hear the first one cricket.
Another in echo, then in unison
Hailing the twilight.

A forehead, gently pushed against my knee
I reach down to scratch her neck.
She rolls on to her back, exposing her massive belly.
I run my fingers through that long, soft, teddy bear fur
She purrs a quiet humming, complete in the moment.

My neighbor has family over
A pleasant, happy gathering.
I think about a friend who might as well be next door
Or on the other side of the world.

The stillness sets in, each sound distinct.
I take a sip of peach and grapefruit soda—tart and sweet—
And put the can to my cheek for the fizz,
A million bubbles breaking at the surface
Extending the moment.

Personal Rituals

Last weekend, Kevin and I made our traditional trip to the Utah Shakespearean Festival in Cedar City. This is the largest, longest-standing tradition in our marriage, and when I was back to work, I felt a sense of loss that the trip had been completed. With a baby due before then, I'm not sure if seeing plays next year will be feasible (and there's a great line up of plays too).

This trip is more meaningful than just seeing plays. It's about visiting a city that's familiar to Kevin, and has become familiar to me too. It's honoring the grave of someone close to both of us. And it's about completing our yearly ritual of visiting a group of bristlecone pine trees to privately inventory our hopes and wishes, and draw on the strength of these old-soul trees to carry our wishes through tough times. This got me thinking about rituals we do as individuals, couples, friends, and families.

A ritual differs from a tradition in that it contains some level of ceremony, even if it's a small amount. A ritual is an action that is somewhat meaningless in itself, but given the ceremony, this common action takes on special meaning that, when coupled with our own willingness, has the ability to change us and our perception of reality. The magic in ritual comes only from our willingness to let it work changes in us. Otherwise, it's merely an empty act.

I know many of you have religious rituals. Temple attendance, baptisms, weddings, the sacrament/Eucharist, fasting/Lent. These are often initiated by institutions, depending on what religion you subscribe to. What I'm curious about are other rituals you perform outside of those prescribed by your religion. Ones that were invented by you, your family, your friends. The little intimate rituals that come from our humanity, our practice as believing beings, as social beings, as people who like to attach meaning to our actions and visibly show what we feel inside.

For instance, have you ever let a balloon go up into the sky, watching it lift away a burden or care that had been weighing you down? Have you ever lit a candle when a loved one was struggling? Worn a ring or bracelet as a reminder of a promise you made, or your dedication to a cause? Grown a rose bush in someone's memory? Made a yearly pilgrimage to a cemetery? Said a poem that connects you to an experience or individual? Retreated privately into a special spot in the wilderness to pray? Are there ritual words you exchange with the one you love that signify a renewal of your love, be it once a day, a year, or every 10 years?

Beyond Composition

It's 6:00 pm on Tuesday night, and I'm avoiding grading research papers. I've read through the stack, and I have only to match them up to my rubric. What that's done, I'll submit grades, and enjoy the week and a half before class starts again. I've never taught two classes during one 4-month period before while working full time, and it's kept me more than busy (thank you, oh fetus, for not making me too sick to teach). It will be nice to be back to just one long night a week.

People ask me why I do this. The answer is because I think it's what I'm meant to do. In fact, one of the recommended careers for my Myers-Briggs personality type is English teacher. I love mentoring others. I love discussing ideas. It's more satisfying than staring at a cubicle wall, and since I need to have my cubicle job to survive, I also teach on the side.

There's a reason I only need a master's degree to teach my class. The tenure-track professors are bored by general education classes, and even though students pay as much for my class as they do for any other three credits, they can pay faculty with only a master's a lot less to do it. That being said, I love my students. I have some of the hardest-working, sincere students. They know that English is not their best subject, so they come ready to learn. It's fulfilling that way.

But sometimes I dream of something more. Over the weekend, I popped into the bookstore on the SUU campus. I am always tempted to see what other schools are teaching in English, so I went through the shelves. I found a class on coming of age in the Pacific Islands. I found another on the Southwest desert with Wallace Stegner and Terry Tempest Williams, among others. One was a seminar on Willa Cather. But the one I found so intriguing was on graphic novels. They were reading Batman, the Incredible Hulk, America's Greatest Comics, a novel in woodcuts, and a theory book on Reading Pictures. Oh, how I would love to teach (or take!) a class on that. While I loved studying the classics, if I could do it all again, I would dive into the world of excellent contemporary literary art.

You know, I miss that. The exploration. English majors have all the fun.

August Afternoons at Last

When I look at the xeric gardens we have, it's amazing to think they were ever anything but spectacular and huge. I remember this post I did last year when I was very frustrated that my garden was not coming along as I thought it might. Here are the pictures I posted.

Here it is in April 2008:

And in July 2008:

And here it is now (if you look you can see the blue polka-dot chicken):

It's almost in full bloom (the oregano is just starting to flower), but already it's covered in small orange-striped bumble bees.

And, just because a certain 17 lb, 8 oz cat always brightens my day, a garden view (with the other chicken on the far right), and Aja's wide belly.

Why does it look like she's scowling? Well, she's a cat. And I just made fun of her weight.

Idaho Summer

Everything flows, nothing stands still.

You could not step twice into the same river, for other waters are ever flowing on to you. (Herakleitos)

Garden Life

The flowers we have in our garden attract a lot of life—particularly bumble bees and hummingbirds. If we attracted more butterflies, I'd consider the fauna to be about perfect.

I just spent five minutes watching at least six hummingbirds drink and rest in my garden. From nearly the size of an insect to the size of a sparrow, it seems to me a miracle that these birds were created to hover and shift in the ways that they do. I thought about grabbing my camera, but you know, sometimes nature just wants to be observed by the human eye.

Power of Imagination

"Worrying is using your imagination to create something you don't want." - Abraham-Hicks

I feel like I should give this post a warning that it's a little hippie. Hey, I'm in a condition here. A beautiful, natural, healthy condition. I get to be as hippie as I want to be.

Imagination in itself is like a form of creation. I find some major flaws in the philosophy of attraction—despite our best intentions, there are many things we don't control in the universe. So, some ideas I take, and some I leave. Overall, realizing I'm at least in control of my own thoughts has led me to think about the power of imagination and where I invest my energy.

As I think about my pregnancy, about Kevin's new graduate program (accepted, but no public details here) and his new job (still looking), and about all of the transitions we're facing, I'm so grateful for the power of imagination—for being able to think about what I desire and then thanking God for that blessing, even if I haven't received it at this point in time. Because I believe all time is before God, I don't think it's ever too early to feel grateful for something like having a beautiful healthy baby. A strong, sound pregnancy. Career success for Kevin and me.

The Navajos said that nothing was ever created that wasn't first dreamed. What good things are you imagining and creating in your life?

A little more detail

This last week has been wonderful to hear from so many friends and family with the announcement of my pregnancy. Thank you for being so supportive at this time of transition for our family, even though if any of you think like my siblings, you were probably expecting we'd get another cat first.

We are so excited to have our new little one joining us around the third week of January, and I am peaceful and content to be planning for our little independent-spirited Aquarius (yes, without anything else to tell me about my baby, I've turned to astrology). I had a very pleasant first trimester with only several days of annoying sickness. Motion sickness seems to amplify things, and while some of this has carried over to the second trimester, I am hopeful it will subside soon.

Mostly, I'm grateful that with a little snacking and an evening nap, I've been able to keep up with a crazy summer schedule. Speaking of that, I have a pile of grading crying out for my attention, so more to come later.

The Traveler

I'm excited to share my new poem here. I know it's a little nerdy to say the things I'm saying this way, and it's on the scientific and theological side. You just can't take the physicist out of the philosopher, and it's the best way I can convey my wonder at this new event in my life.

Nearing the end of my third decade
a new legacy, new magnum opus found me
So I decided on space travel

I'm building a capsule
complete with lifeline
Organic material, grounded and earthy
ignites this odyssey
It was at first a microscopic endeavor
a saline primordial sea -- the same soup
that broke in life upon this planet

My mission is not to discover life
but to invite it
Nothing less than a miracle, a lightning strike
an other, an infinite number of experiences and thoughts
an eternity of potential that I cannot own, nor will I try

And safely, under my skin, beneath this marked veil
my comfort capsule expands in space from minuscule detection
grows so large it will not be ignored
And faster than the speed of light,
as swift as thought, arriving from how far off
the space-traveler comes to this vessel
full and dark, with a flowing supply of oxygen
My song-sound is heard within
its soft, stretching walls

The messenger,
not so much of divinity elsewhere
but inside, fostering the ontology of all I am
without confinement or constraint:
I am Infinite. I am the Universe.

Inside cells divide
each knowing its work
Within the membrane
organelles dance with DNA and RNA
the ribosomal protein play
extending in atoms, electrons, quarks
Photons dance like stars
in the spinning sea of space

Angel Sweetness

Kevin and niece.

White Pine Lake

Kevin and I gave ourselves this Saturday off to run up to White Pine Lake with my dad and brothers. And thanks to everyone who asks about my dad. He's still doing great (as you will see). Keep your prayers, good thoughts, and sun salutations coming.

All of the June rain obviously did the canyon good because I was absolutely stunned by how green everything was. The wildflowers are just coming out.

Here's looking across to the twin peaks area.

And, speaking of all that rain, it rained on us too. Yes, that is a garbage bag over my dad's head and sticking out asymmetrically over one shoulder. While we took this picture he was saying, "And this is my daughter, Alisa. We're related." Very funny, Dad. Maybe that's why I'm making a fist. That or the cold.

And speaking of cold, it's always fun to cross a snowy moonscape just after the rain has made it all nice and slippery.

And at last the lake, 10,100 feet. And another appearance of the garbage bag poncho.

Quietly Suspended

I love teaching my night class. Interacting with students is far more rewarding than staring at a computer screen superimposed on gray cubicle walls. But at times it can get to be a little much, with the time commitment and the grading. These summer months I've been teaching six credit hours (two three-hour classes) in addition to my full-time work. It can be difficult to postpone my after-work routine for hours and make sure I get the grading done quickly.

Which is why I am so grateful for the parts of my day built around decompressing and relaxing. Like watering my flowerbeds. I should put in drip lines, but the manual nourishing of my garden is so soothing and natural. Same thing when I interact with those two rascal cats of mine. Or go on a jog, or a long walk with Kevin. Or eat dinner on the patio on our bistro table. Or watch the bees at work on our coneflowers and hollyhocks.

Yes, hollyhocks have bloomed this year. My brother tells me that this is the second year growth, so they must have appeared last year and I was too lazy - or too busy - to pull out these "weeds." And I am so delighted now that these naturally-springing whimsical stalks are beginning to bloom. Something about that makes me set aside all obligations, and stand quietly in the suspended moment awhile longer.

The Pond

You think it will never happen again.

Then, one night in April,
the tribes wake trilling.

You walk down to the shore.

Your coming stills them,
but little by little the silence lifts
until song is everywhere
and your soul rises from your bones
and strides out over the water.

It is a crazy things to do—
for no one can live like that,
floating around in the darkness
over the gauzy water.

Left on the shore your bones
keep shouting come back!
But your soul won’t listen;
in the distance it is unfolding
like a pair of wings, it is sparking
like hot wires. So,
like a good friend,
you decide to follow.

You step off the shore
and plummet to your knees—
you slog forward to your thighs
and sink to your cheekbones—
and now you are caught
by the cold chains of the water—
you are vanishing while around you
the frogs continue to sing, driving
their music upward through your own throat,
not even noticing
you are something else.

And that’s when it happens—
you see everything
through their eyes,
their joy, their necessity;
you wear their webbed fingers;
your throat swells.

And that’s when you know
you will live whether you will or not,
one way or another,
because everything is everything else,
one long muscle.

It’s not more mysterious than that.

So you relax, you don’t fight it anymore,
the darkness coming down
called water
called spring,
called the green leaf, called
a woman’s body
as it turns into mud and leaves,
as it beats in its cage of water,
as it turns like a lonely spindle
in the moonlight, as it says,
yes.

- Mary Oliver

A Friendly Request: To Stave off Going Private

I really don't like private blogs. I'm sorry if you're one of my dear friends who has one, but it's the truth. As a fan of Google Reader, I like to have a one-stop place where I can keep up to date with all my friends's goings on. All the manually going to the site and typing in a username and password, not to mention the account expiration issues, is a little bit of a pain. That being said, I still do it because I respect your need for privacy. And because I really love you.

I'm a little bit of a private person myself. As you notice, I blog with first names only. I don't give out my address or say when I'm planning on going out of town. I even try to avoid addressing exact birthdays. Yes, I'm that kind of private.

So I have a small request to make of you, my friends, my readers. Many of you have graciously included my blog on your blogrolls. This is especially kind of you since I don't even maintain one myself. But for many of you, the blogroll link includes both my first and last name, and some include Kevin's as well. I am wondering if you could possibly remove the last name from your list? If you would do that for me, I would very much appreciate it. You can even use the actual name of my blog, which would make me feel like a pro.

I find this to be a good alternative to taking my blog into the realm of annoying private blogs, requiring you to log in just to see if by chance I got around to posting anything. I know many of you are fully comfortable blogging with the full names of your family and friends, and you probably think I'm unnecessarily cautious. I probably am! However, Kevin and I both have simultaneous academic and professional careers, and I would prefer that when clients, students, university administrators, or potential employers do a Google search for either of us (something that is now standard practice) that this blog doesn't appear (and also that your blog doesn't appear associated with our names - only because I don't control your content). If you could also try to be careful to use only first names in your posts about us, I'd appreciate that as well.

One of the faults of this blog is that I don't post anything super substantial. You wouldn't really guess that I love philosophical conversation from reading this blog, would you? Instead, there are pix of my cats here, my garden there. However, I just rather be boring and safe than edgy and sorry.

OK, enough of a tour through my early morning hopes and fears. My sincere thanks to all for tuning in. Now back to my regularly-scheduled blogging.