save their lives.

I just read the most powerful powerful post... 

Click here to read it--> MORE THAN WORDS

Photo: Ashley Malena Photography

There really are NO WORDS  describe the emotion that I was feeling as I read this post.  This is surely an answer to a prayer that I have had in my heart for years.  My baby is only one, but I have worked with children in preschools and child care centers for years and I have seen as parents disconnect themselves from their children's learning and growing and depend solely upon the "teacher" or "professional" for their child's development.  

If they only knew the importance of their input and involvement in the lives of their children!

It made me think back to when Hannah was in the NICU.  She was only in the NICU for 8 days but during those days I feel like I depended so much on the "professionals" opinions that I forgot that I have a voice...no, I have THE voice in my child's development.  And she has a voice too...but I am the one who helps her express it.   In some ways I feel like I have carried that dependency with me through this first year.

This is quite possibly my favorite part of her post and made me all teary-eyed:

"I begin to look at my children differently. I loved them before, but through a bit of a fog. They become not little people I am taking care of, but fascinating, complex, unique beings I have the privilege to watch unfold. Finding a break from the whining suddenly becomes less important than trying to soak them in fast enough before they grow up on me.

Sam has a day off for teacher's conferences. We walk down the street to the river and throw stones in. We wade in the water and squish the mud between our toes. We gather leaves. We make up stories. The day is so beautiful I want to cry. I used to think all these things my children and I love to do together were some precursor to the real stuff. Just us passing time till they were old enough for others, those who knew what they were doing, to step in and take over.

I think about my own mother. I can't remember much of anything from the years I spent in public school away from her. Trigonometry? Took the class. Got an A. Can't tell you what the heck trigonometry even is. But I remember vividly my mother showing me how to turn a hollyhock into a dancing girl. The sound of her voice singing "Sandman." I am a writer because I sensed her love affair with the written word and wanted in on it. Suddenly, I realize its these little things filling my days with my kids that is the real stuff. I know, now, certainly, I am the expert on my children.

Whether or not Sam goes to preschool was not the issue here. What was? Having a mother who is empowered enough, and in tune enough with him to make good decisions on his behalf."

But then she wrote this and I was a sobbing mess:

"One night after I tuck him in, Sam begins crying.

I open his door. "What's wrong, honey?"

"I'm afraid of the monsters."

I start to try and convince him there are no monsters, as I have before, but stop and try to think of things from his perspective. When I leave it will still be dark. The shadows will continue creeping up the walls and unexplainable noises will keep ringing in his ears.

"I'll tell you what. I'll kill the monsters."

"What?" Sam wrinkles his nose. This isn't the response he expected.

I whisk out a light saber and run around the room on a murderous rampage. Sam giggles while I describe falling limbs and severed heads.

He's okay now. So we go through our "Mugga mugga, butterfly, kissy kiss" routine again. One final hug. Sam locks his hands behind my neck, looks me in the eyes for a moment with pure affection and says, "Mama, you save me."

The startling sweetness of his words makes me smile. "Yes, sweetheart the monsters are all gone. I saved you."

He looks me in the eyes again. Even though his vocabulary is expanding, he opts to tell me with his eyes what he wants to say. He holds my gaze and, unblinking, looks at me deeply, directly, indicating there is more to his words.

"Mama, you save me," he says again.

For a moment I am still. I want to pick Sam up and hold him until he is too big to be held anymore. I want to put his words to music, to paint them in a mural. To scream from the rooftops the joy/heartbreak and excitement/exhaustion that is being his mother.
He knows now I would set the tubes and monitors aside and hold him, hear him. More importantly, I now know I'm strong enough.

"Do you feel the power?" I say in the dark.

Sam leans forward and whispers in my ear, "I feel it like a light saber.""

To me she describes the power that Mothers hold in their hands, yet just have to realize it. If all Mother's realized this we would indeed live in a better world.  It's something I am going to have to remember to realize everyday...

It seems kind of weird but as I was reading this post I was listening to music and I'm sure no coincidence...the song "Everyday" by Rascal Flatts came on and I found myself thinking of the lyrics from the perspective of my child.  (Yah, yah,  I know you are all sick of my obsession with Rascal Flatts but just keep on reading. ;)

You could've bowed out gracefully
But you didn't
You knew enough to know
To leave well enough alone
But you wouldn't
I drive myself crazy
Tryin' to stay out of my own way
The messes that I make
But my secrets are so safe
The only one who gets me
Yeah, you get me
It's amazing to me

[CHORUS]
How every day
Every day, every day
You save my life

I come around all broken down and
Crowded out
And you're comfort
Sometimes the place I go
Is so deep and dark and desperate
I don't know, I don't know

[Repeat Chorus]

Sometimes I swear, I don't know if
I'm comin' or goin'
But you always say something
Without even knowin'
That I'm hangin' on to your words
With all of my might and it's alright
Yeah, I'm alright for one more night-
Every day
Every day, every day, every day
Every day, every day
You save me, you save me, oh, oh, oh
Every day
Every, every, every day-

Every day you save my life. 

 

I remember learning in my years as an Early Childhood and Special Education Major that that I am the advocate for my child!  I am a hero to my sweet, quirky, energetic little child.  And you know what...you are the same thing to yours!

bay nature and science center.

A few weeks ago we went to the Lake Erie Nature and Science Center.  It was fun and free!  Can't beat that!  They have a planetarium, live reptiles, fish, birds, and a few other neat animals.  They also have little areas to play and learn!  I think we will end up going here often!

Hannah enjoyed seeing the animals and reptiles!  It was fun to actually see her interested!  The planetarium was closed at the time, but we will be going back to see it!

People had told me about this place so many times and I was very impressed!  I wish we had gone sooner!

A little nervous about the surroundings...

Ooooo! Aaaaa!

Creepy!  Kim-Don't look!

Eeeewww!

Lookin at the fish!

This was too crazy!

Arf! Arf Arf!  Hannah's new word.

Kisses for the punkin!

Getting so big!

Strollin'

Not looking at the camera---enthralled with the ducks.

still enthralled with the ducks.

spooky owl!

WOW!  SPACE IS COOL!

exploring!

We love this guy!

Fall Photo!

My two favorite people!

fall 2010.

plus just one cute one...

squires castle.

On Sunday we took a little afternoon outing and explored Squire's Castle in one of the local Metroparks.  It was really fun to see this place and hear the stories attached to it.

"Located within the boundaries of the Cleveland Metroparks District is a stone building that everyone knows as "Squire's Castle". It isn't really a castle, it was designed to be a caretaker's house for a splendid mansion that was never built and it is no one's home these days... except for that of a ghost. This tragic spirit was once the lady of the house and her anguished screams have been reported here for many years as she haunts the place that sent her into an early grave.
The "castle" was built by Feargus b. Squire, an extremely wealthy man who was one of the founders of the Standard Oil Company. He had a wonderful home in downtown Cleveland but Squire always longed for a home in the country. He had a taste for the outdoors and took real pleasure in big game hunting, for which he traveled the world. Many of the animals that he killed on his expeditions ended up as decoration on the walls of his home, their horns, heads and pelts giving testimony that Squire had prevailed over the savage beast. Late in the 1890's, Squire purchased 525 acres of land in the forest near Cleveland, planning to build a summer estate for himself, his wife and daughter. A few years after buying the property, Squire erected the caretaker's cottage. It had three floors plus a basement, in which Squire designed an elaborate trophy room for the skins and heads of the animals that he had hunted down in various exotic locations.
According to the stories, Mrs. Squire hated the country and hated the summer cottage. She was left alone in the city each summer while her daughter and husband left for the country, so eventually she decided to try and spend some time there. Squire was busy drawing up the plans for the magnificent castle that he planned to build and, against his wife's wishes, he began spending more and more time on the isolated estate. Mrs. Squire worried constantly about being away from the city, the loneliness of the cottage and about the idea of being forced to spend every summer in the house that her husband was planning. In all of her worry and agitation, she developed insomnia and began walking about the house at night, carrying a small, red lantern to light her way.
On one fateful night, Mrs. Squire wandered into the trophy room of the house, a place that she usually avoided. No one really knows what happened that night, but it has been surmised that Mrs. Squire became frightened of something in the room, or perhaps even the mounted animals themselves as they looked in the dim light. Regardless, she began screaming in terror over something and in her haste to leave the room, she tripped and fell and ended up breaking her neck. She was discovered dead a short time later.
Squire was distraught and blamed himself for his wife's death. He abandoned the plans for the house and went back to the city, never returning to the cottage again. People who knew of his plans to build the grand summer home started calling the cottage "Squire's Castle" and the name stuck. In 1922, Squire sold the property.
As time has passed, the legends say that Mrs. Squire has returned to roam the summer cottage which tragically ended her life. It has been said that people who pass by on Chagrin Road at night can sometimes hear the screams of Mrs. Squire, or catch a glimpse of her red lantern as the ghost walks past the windows of the house.
Of course, that's what the legends say.. the truth is not nearly so chilling. Records say that Mrs. Squire did not die in this house and she did not perish because of a broken neck. In fact, she suffered a stroke and died at her home in Wickcliffe in 1929.. a number of years after the house was sold. So, if there is a ghost that walks this old place, it is likely not that of Mrs. Squire!
The Cleveland Metroparks System purchased the property in 1925 and it has been open to the public ever since. Today, it looks nothing like it did years ago..... because of fear of vandals, the basement has been filled in, the windows removed and the interior walls torn down, but curious visitors are welcome to wander through it at any time between dawn and sunset... but you may not want to stay after dark." (www.prairieghosts.com)

Oooo!  Spooky, and since we are sooo into the Halloween Spirit (we don't even have our decorations up yet), we decided to go.  It was not very spooky.

There were lost of people picnicking and there was even a wedding going on.

But it was still fun!  We brought a picnic, explored the "castle", and then took a hike.