North Wood Magic

A merry band of four adventurers sits by a small fire behind a treed knoll.  They drink from their flasks and fill themselves with dry biscuits.  The sun is peeking through the leaves of the large oak that protects them from the evil forces around them.

There is a sudden neigh of alarm from a beautiful grey dappled steed who was grazing quietly beside the group.  In a flash, the youngest of the group grabs her bow and arrows, mounts her steed, holding tight by the black and silver mane, and calls to her friends "I will lead the ogre away while you prepare for the fight". With a leap, her horse is on its way flying like the wind across the dry field.

The girl's plan is a success!  The ogre lumbers after her, its 10 eyes bulging, 10 feet of green, hairless, scaley beast on the hunt, its tree trunks of arms swinging to and fro.  At the edge of the field she stops her horse and looks back, seeing that her three companions are ready with spears and clubs, chasing swiftly after the ogre, their silver armour flashing in the sunlight.

As a team they join the ogre in battle, sparring, lunging, feinting, piercing.  It bellows in a rage and swipes at the young warriors, but misses and finally lumbers off, defeated for now.

Breathing hard, the young companions stop at one of their hideouts to replenish their supplies and rest. This wood is theirs - they know every tree and shrub, every cave and snug alcove. They have caches of weapons, of crafting supplies, of armour, of food.  They are prepared for anything. When they aren't fighting off the ogres that venture into their territory they rest and plan future battles, swing in the trees, swim in the pond and gather berries.

So is this an excerpt of a new adventure novel?  Nope. This is a glimpse into the imaginations of my four kids.

I always wanted us to build them a proper tree house - they have a play structure in the backyard which has a little raised platform that is suitable, but I always dreamed of an actual tree house.  I wanted a place where my kids had their own space, and a chance to let their imaginations soar.

Well, this summer they invented the North Wood.  This was their special place in the back part of our property, in amongst the trees and long grasses and (ahem) weeds. They used stumps as tables, rocks as benches, they stashed supplies in a hollow log, used a low hanging branch as their lookout.  They built bows and arrows out of branches, twine and feathers. They carved weapons, made up a constitution for their land and gave themselves each roles and names.  In short, they did what I always dreamed for them - they turned our back yard into their own magical land.

I have to write this down because I think this is magical. And I think my kids are in the middle of a magical time - the oldest is young enough to let his imagination go and have fun with his siblings, the youngest is old enough to really contribute to the games and ideas.  These are the golden years of their childhood and I hope they cherish their memories as much as I will cherish the memories of watching them run and play through the backyard, tiptoe through the tall grasses at the back of the property, climb onto the big tree branch as a lookout, come in and ask for containers to pick the wild black raspberries, take picnics outside to eat - not in our backyard - but in the magical land of the North Wood.

Thomas

Some milestones are big events.  Marked on the calendar, anticipated, photographed and remembered.

Others just kind of quietly happen, sliding under the radar and are hardly noticed.

Like today, as I'm organizing and cleaning my 7 year old's room I realize its been months since those wooden trains were touched.  Time to pack them away and store them for another day.  And then it hits me... those trains have been in use for over a decade by one kid or another of mine.  I remember a toddler's chubby little hand carrying "Henry" the green engine everywhere he went; who shed round, wet tears at the sight of the locked veterinary office where Henry was forgotten and who beamed with great delight the next morning when that green train with the lopsided smile was waiting for him patiently on the receptionists counter.  I remember long and involved train track making escapades, under and around the kitchen table, across the linoleum until the track ran out.  And just as long and involved conversations between trains and children as adventures were spun out of wood and imagination on rainy afternoons.

So, now those trains and train tracks are packed up and ready for storage.  And I can't believe I'm actually thinking about future grandchildren as I pack those trains away - one toy that can't go to a friend or consignment sale, one toy that will sit and wait until the day one of my children brings their child over to Grandma's to play and a new generation of chubby little hands and creative little spirits build train tracks and spin stories on my kitchen floor.

Five year old Dreams

I had a rare Mother-daughter lunch date today.  The boys were all busy at friends' houses, so my daughter and I enjoyed a little lunch at a local cafe.  We had a great conversation and I just have to write down some of the highlights.  It was really cool to get a window into her thoughts and dreams.

First off, she told me, Daddy and I would have to move out of our house.  We could still live in Canada, infact, it would be best if we could be neighbours, but we couldn't live in our house, because she would need to live there with her husband and 6 children.  She planned to have 2 sets of triplets; she would have triple bunk beds, 3 in one room, 3 in the other, 1 guest room and then a room for her and her husband.  Well planned, my dear, well planned!

She then asked me why I only had four kids.  (I dunno, seemed like alot to me...)  No, she most definitely wanted six, four would simply not be enough.

Next she suggested that I might want to babysit her six kids for her while she went to work as a baker or a fancy coffee maker.  She thought she might like to own a cafe just like the one we were in and when she was working there I could bring the six kids in and she would make them all hot chocolate with whip cream and chocolate shavings.  (the very drink she was drinking as she spoke)

Quick aside here - I have to say, I was so happy to hear her talking about a) wanting lots of kids and b) going to work.  I sometimes wonder if my choice to stay home with the kids affects her vision of what she can do with her life, but as she spoke I realized she really does feel like the world is wide open to her.

So once we had her living arrangement, family and work settled she continued on.  Daddy and I would HAVE to live next door and her kids could go for sleep overs at our house.  And if we wanted, we could come for a sleep over too.  Especially because she'd have a guest room for us.

I asked her again what she thought she wanted to be - and she repeated the baker or fancy coffee maker. But then she paused and added, but I could also be a Firefighter, a police officer, or maybe a doctor.  (the world really is her oyster)

Her future is wide open and I can't wait to see which roads she ends up travelling - although I'll secretly hope that the roads she travels make regular stops back at the ol' homestead.  And I'll even babysit her two sets of triplets without complaint in return.

Dozen

+
"really?" "REALLY!"
holding hands, smiles we can't wipe off our faces.
waiting. a bud. a secret.
dreaming, imagining, hoping.

growing.
Belly swelling,
lying in bed reading a book
what was that?  laughing,
baby kicked my book off my belly.
mysterious being.

time.
its time.  its Time.
focus, calm, excitement, fear, hope
Intense, searing, breath taking pain.
waves of fire.
PUSH!
panic, can this really happen?
Trapped.  trust self,  trust helping hands.
out baby OUT!

love.
hello baby!
warm bundle against my chest
soft touch, perfect nose, perfect chin
bright black eyes,
hello baby.
Love.

Home.
Who is this?  where are his parents?
tumbling, upside down, night and day
we're supposed to know what to do?
feed.  burp.  change.  rock.  sleep.
twilight sleep.  pierced by a pinprick cry.
bed so soft, so warm, so inviting, so sleepy...
Piercing CRY!
Baby!  jump up, run to baby,
feed.  burp. change.  rock.  sleep.
Never the same.

Need.
Rocking, soothing, soft voices, soft touches
Baby needs me.  Baby loves me.
Happiest in my arms, in my sight, within reach.
Bobbing in sling, rocking in arms, put down
Cry!!!
Baby, Mommy needs 5 minutes, 1 minute, 30 seconds to herself.
NO!  Cry!  Pick baby up.
all encompassing fatigue.  Baby needs me.
Self is shelved.

First
smile.  oh beautiful, lovely, perfect, heart melting smile!
rolling, sitting, crawling,
picking up tiny o's and popping them in mouth.
face pinches, gums crunch, surprised!  yum!  another O!  delighted giggles.
Belly laughs, arms reach up "Uh!"  Mommy listens. Cause and effect. Delight!!
words, "car" "dog" "uhoh" "hi" "Dada" "Mama"
Bedtime stories and lullabies, cuddles in soft evening's glow

Blowing infinite kisses as mama leaves his room,
Goodnight.

Taking off.
teetering steps.  grab chair.  grab table.  let go.  walk to Daddy's arms.
Cheering, laughing, baby giggles.
Baby runs.
Bye bye baby.

Child.
Wispy hair falling in face. Tip of tongue beyond lips.
Brow furrowed, fingers gripping tight
red crayon.  blue crayon.  scribbles.
Master piece!!

Ouch!

indignant tears

scraped knee

superhero mama to the rescue with

magic kisses.

No!
NO Mama!  ME do it! ME DO IT!
patient waiting.  shirt on inside out.  pants backward.
ME do it!
running off to nursery school
Bye Mama!  big hug.  wet kiss on nose.
Going Mama?"  Its ok, mama will be back soon.
Hesitating.  Arms grab my leg.  No Mama.
Teacher takes him, shows him toys, Ok Mama.
he is smiling and I leave, waving bye.

Yellow.
First day of school and the bus is coming.
Holding hands.  Warm hand gripping mine.
He's nervous.  Big hug.  He does not want to let go.
Reluctant steps.
Sad face plastered against window.
Small wave.
Bye Mommy.
Bus rumbles off.
Street is silent.

Bus rumbles up. Door opens.
happy face bounding down steps.
Wave to driver.
Full tilt into Mommy, huge hug.
So happy to be home.  Lots to say.
Fun day.  caterpillars and colours, blocks and letters.
Hello sweet boy!

Saturday morning.
Yawning child.  Snuggles in.
Arm thrown across my face.
Giggles.  Hi Mom.

Time.
Flies.  Boy is growing.
Learning.
reading, writing, music, sports, playing.
Pants are too short.  again? already?
Growing.
When was the last bedtime snuggle?
When was the last big hug?
Last wet kiss on the nose?
Mom!
oops.  no goodbye hugs.
drop him off at school.
Tall kid grabs his backpack.
No hug, no kiss, no looking back.
Bye Mom.  Have a great day son,
OK.

I'm reading a book.
He walks in, shoulders slumped, sits down.
What's up?  mumbles.  Wanna talk?  slowly the words trickle out.
We talk, his shoulders lift, smile returns.
Ok Mom. Thanks for your help.
Gift of a fleeting hug and he saunters off.
OK.

Photographs of my daughter

“Mommy, why are you taking so many pictures of me?” My daughter asks, her nose coming very close to my camera lens as she brings her head in towards me. “You know you have me forever, you don’t need so many pictures.” Her voice and face give me a premonition of the eye rolls and sighs coming my way when I meet her 12 year old self.

I’m taking pictures of my daughter as she frolics in front of me, playing with some plastic fish, a stuffed cat and a stuffed dog and wanting to engage me in a game of “feed the pets”.

She thinks I’ll have her forever. That’s all she can imagine. It’s what I pray for – a long life watching my children grow up and lead healthy productive, independent and happy lives. I fervently hope I’ll have my daughter in my life for many years to come, but I certainly won’t have this little four and three quarters year old girl in my life forever. The one who wears her heart on her sleeve, the one whose day will range from giggles and glee to pensive contemplation of life’s many mysteries to crying with heartbroken tears over some 4 year old sorrow. The one whose hair falls in her face as she concentrates on some craft or drawing, the one whose eyes start to laugh before the rest of her when she is filled with delight about something. No, this four and three quarter year old daughter is mine for only a blink of an eye and so I want to capture her sweetness, her energy, her mystery on film, a memento of a fleeting moment of motherhood.

My daughter’s innocent remarks lingers with me, “You’ll have me forever.” It’s moments like this I want to cling to and grab on to to keep with me, but I know if I grab too tight she’ll wriggle away and run away laughing at silly mommy. This balance of motherhood, the hanging on and simultaneous letting go, being there for my children, but letting them learn for themselves, this constant tug of war of motherhood will be an ongoing challenge and blessing for me as I watch my children grow and mature.

But for now, I put the camera down and grab the plastic fish my daughter holds out to me; its time to feed the pets and I don’t want to miss a second of it.

In a Nutshell...

Rather than try to stumble along in my own words, I want to quote a favourite book of mine on motherhood - the book is By the Secret Ladder- A Mother's Initiation and the author is Frances Greenslade.

"The enormous physical changes that mothers' bodies undergo in preparation for giving birth should be the outward signal of inward change to come. Your rib cage enlarges to accommodate your double-duty lungs. Your heart, too, is displaced, literally expanding with the new effort it requires to pump blood not only through your body, but also your growing fetus and the placenta. As your heart grows, it twists, trying to settle into a spot where it will fit.

Her body is altered in ways that cannot be undone. Her feet may be bigger, her rings may not fit anymore, her ribcage will be permanently expanded. And as everyone knows, once your heart's been twisted out of place, it never goes back to normal."

"When you become a mother, you undergo a psychic reordering even more monumental and profound than the physical. Until now you have been autonomous, the centre of your own universe, but from the moment you give birth, everything changes. It's like a crack has opened up in your world and on one side is your old life, on the other, the adventure of the new. "

"Becoming a mother brings you close to the bone, to blood and shit, to mortality and your absolute worst fears. It may be sweet, but it can also be dark and dangerous. It is, more accurately, one of the great adventures of many women's lives. It is a quest, with the mother as the hero-adventurer, encountering the pitfalls of all adventures: monsters, despair, and an overarching wonder. A mother, helplessly in love with and bound to her child by the minutiae of daily caring, comes face to face with her own soul."

Motherhood in a nutshell.

Folded Linens

It was time to decorate the Christmas tree and set out the family nativity set. I was hurrying through the house - from the basement where the ornament boxes were stored to the upstairs linen closet to grab a nice Christmas cloth for the little table I wanted to put the Nativity on.

And suddenly; most unexpectedly, time seemed to stop and my mother was with me. As I was digging through the linen closet I came across a little square Christmas tablecloth that had not been used in the 8 years since my mother died. It was folded neatly; every crease ironed. It had that feel to it that only linens my mother washed and ironed could. As I unfolded the table cloth I felt like I was touching part of her, since her hands were the last hands to iron this little piece of cloth and fold it neatly, preparing it for the next Christmas that never came for her.

It was an incredibly special moment; to feel my mother's long gone physical presence so close again. And though this cloth will never have that closeness again - since once I wash it and iron it and tuck it away for next Christmas, it won't be the same- something special will remain with me. Amidst all the old and treasured memories I have of her from years long past, I have been given an unexpected and lovely Christmas gift - my Mother has just given me a new memory; a gift that I will treasure every year as that little table cloth comes out in its place of honour on the Nativity table.