Growing Family

Passing

I don't really know how to write this post.

October 14th my grandfather, who was 78, died suddenly and tragically in a head on collision. He was full of life and vitality and he was killed by a girl who was 26; a mother, beautiful, and reportedly high. She was driving while in a rage over being denied her pursuit of custody of her son. She crossed the double lines and even though my grandfather swerved to miss the collision, she came all the way over to the guardrail on his side and he couldn't miss that.

Both of their huge American cars (Land Rover and Large SUV) exploded into shrapnel and both of them lost their lives. An witness to the accident said that she had lived on that stretch of the road her whole life and that she had never seen anyone driving so fast. She estimated the girl's speed at 90 or 100 miles per hour. My meticulously careful grandfather wasn't wearing his seat belt because he was only a mile from his house, test driving the Land Rover he was working on for my cousin. It wouldn't have mattered if he had.

It was Thursday morning in Australia when my mom called me with the news. Friday I bought a ticket. Saturday I left to go to Philadelphia.

My trip was a whirlwind of jet lag, grief, reunions, shopping, culture shock, and caring for my five month old, Finch. Late nights talking with my cousins, long days at the viewing and the funeral which lasted for hours, a speedy trip up to Brooklyn to see my sister's new place, shoving as much Target and TJMaxx clothing for the kids as I could into my already full suitcase, sleeping in the attic room of my grandparents' house where I've been sleeping my whole life when I visit PA, seeing my brother and his family, playing with my nieces, being inseparably joined with my baby sister who I love so much, talking with my dad who is still recovering from a serious illness, having snatches with my mother, who as the first born bore the weight of the responsibility for arranging the funeral, and every moment expecting to see my spry grandfather pop in from his busy activities to say hi, as he always did.

I want to eulogize him. I want to tell the story of his life to you. I want to talk about what it was like to be back in America. I still feel shaky thinking about the nearly 48 hours it took me to get home...with a baby. I'm in the midst of the turmoil of returning to an (almost) three and four year old that I had to leave, suddenly, for nearly ten days, after having only left them overnight once or twice before in their babyhood. But it's all a blur. I'm still jet-lagged and grief stricken and disoriented over cultures and homes and...just all mixed up inside.

First Braids

When Small Sun was a baby his hair was really soft and his curls were big. Like many families, we waited to cut his hair until after his first birthday. For the last year or two we've kept his hair long enough to show off his curls, but short enough to be really easy to keep groomed and styled.

The Captain has really wanted to let Small Sun's hair grow. He loves his curls! Of course I love his curls too, but I'm the one who does his hair so longer hair means more time! So now that I am over the (very) new baby stage, and Small Sun's hair is about three inches long, I'm trying to learn how to braid. I tried to do cornrows last week and had to give up on it. For one thing, I don't know how to french braid to begin with, and the curls around Small Sun's crown are really tight, so I just didn't manage to get the braids started.

Today I tried something I knew I could execute. I think these are called box braids? It took an hour and a half and my bands kept breaking. Cheap. Anyway, we'll see how it is looking tomorrow. Small Sun's hair is a lot more coarse than it was when he was a baby, but it's not really kinky enough to hold things like twists. We'll see how we go.

 

What I don't know, is if this style is appropriate on boys. You don't see many (okay, I haven't seen ANY) boys with braids here. Back in Nashville you saw all kinds of long styles on boys but here it seems to be short or loc'd styles. So internets, give me some feedback. Is this style a) boy appropriate, b) current or outdated, and c) decently executed for a first try? 

He is so rough and tumble and we're coming into the season of really windy (dry wind) weather so I'm trying to work extra hard to make sure his hair doesn't get damaged by the elements. I've got some new product (mixed chicks) coming from the States so I hope it is a good match for us! 

Tough Parenting Moment

We are enjoying school holidays here and today we met up with a new friend at an indoor play center. I was sitting with the moms and babies while Small Sun and the Sprout were off playing in the gym area. I began to tune in to the sound of a child screaming with hysterical fear, quickly realizing that it was my child screaming. It was Sprout, who is just shy of three years old.

Immediately, I got up to go to her, and as I walked across the room I saw her burst out of the playhouse, running as fast as she could, wailing with terror. I have never seen her so afraid in her life. It took some time before she could even speak, she was crying so hard.

When I discovered what she was running from my heart fell.

Earlier, when we had arrived, I had noticed a little boy with facial deformities. While his body appeared to be normal, one side of his face was about 1/3 larger than the other and had no expression. It was puffy and saggy. I don't know what his condition was, and he was just playing away. It was that boy that my daughter was afraid of. I wonder if she didn't notice him until she was in very close proximity to him, playing in a little cubbyhouse together?

She was sure that he was "mean" or "naughty" or that he was going to hurt her. I tried to calm her with my calmness, I held her and reassured her. I told her over and over that he was not a mean boy but that he had a sickness that made his face look different but that a different face didn't mean he was a scary person. None of it seemed to help. She sat on my lap, holding me, refusing to go play until he had left to go home.

My heart ached for her to feel so frightened. I've never seen her scared like that before. But my heart was also aching for that child and his parents. How do they navigate life for their child when other children react to him as mine did? How do they deal with children as young as Sprout who have no filter for the way they respond to people around them, and who cannot accept a logical explanation to diffuse their fear?

It was really difficult and horrible and I just didn't know what to do. I tried to keep Sprout with me, trying to get her to play in an area away from him until I could convince her that he was okay to be around, but she just wouldn't play until he left.

When we were driving home she asked me about him again and again. She seems to be gradually processing the experience and now she is saying "that boy is not naughty. He has a sick face so his cheeks are puffy. He went home now." She wanted to pray for him when she went down for her nap. So I think she's starting to get it but at the play center she was just terrified.

Small Sun, on the other hand, noticed him and just kept playing. When he heard me and the Sprout talking he asked me about it and accepted the explanation completely.

This was a tough one. What would you have done?

Being a Creator

We are enjoying a long weekend, despite heavy rain and cool temperatures. Last week I got it into my head to build a second raised garden bed for our summer veggies. I chatted over the fence with my expert gardener neighbor and next thing I knew, her hubby offered to pick the wood up for me and agreed to share a load of soil that he picked up in his ute (pickup truck). The wood and soil showed up yesterday morning and the rest is history. Here is a step-by-step guide on how to create a raised garden bed, which is a really great way to raise veggies.

Day 1:

	To the right you can see the timber frame. I had the wood cut to size so all I had to do was nail the frame together. Next I unloaded four wheelbarrow loads of soil, all in the pouring rain. Do you like my hat? Some Dutch family members might recognize it. ;)
	I unloaded the soil onto a tarp since I wasn't going to use it right away.

Day 2:

	After swinging the mattock a couple times I realized that it wasn't good for my abdominals which are still weak in places after the c-section.  I enlisted the help of The Captain to turn over the rest of the grass roots.
	Once the grass roots are all turned over I lay down a layer of cardboard and newspaper to suffocate the grass and act as a barrier between the soil and the grass. Next I added a layer of partially decayed grass clippings.
	Next a layer of decomposed grass clippings and leaf mulch.
	Here is Small Sun helping me put the soil I bought onto the garden bed. Those four wheelbarrows only cost me $15 and the soil was beautiful and rich! Gardeners know that there is a real variation in soil quality and some of the "potting soil" you can buy is completely sterile and lifeless. This soil was a.m.a.z.i.n.g.
	Small Sun was most excited about getting to play with "cow poo". He is so four years old right now!
	After the manure I added blood and bone mix and some coir mulch, which is a new product to me.
	I mixed those organic additives in. Here is the coir mulch.
	Lastly, I watered it all in. Now I let it sit and breathe and rest for about a week before I plant in my seedlings.
	I know all of this will never fit in that garden but I'll grow it all somehow.

The time I spent standing in the back of the truck, in the soaking rain, shovelling the soil in the wheelbarrow, was perhaps the happiest hour I've had in a long time. The slight smell of manure, the feeling of strength in my body, the measurable accomplishment of the task, the absolute quiet as everyone hid indoors from the weather...it was joyful. Gardening is how I exorcise my demons. Nothing dark can stick to me after I spend some time toiling in the earth. I love the freshness in body and spirit I enjoy after a good dig in the soil.

P.S. big thanks to The Captain who helped me with the craziness that became my text and photos! He sorted out a real mess!