you can be anything you want... except maybe that...

Ocean informed me tonight that he's black. Though we've never discussed race and he has yet to ask questions about ethnicity. At any rate, the conversation went like this:

O: I'm black mommy.
Me: What?
O: I'm black.
Me: Did you just say you're black?
O: Mmm-hmmm.
Me: Awesome.
O: Yeah.

I don't think he had any idea what he was saying. But it was pretty awesome.


blog not, lest ye be judged

I never, ever, ever engage in online debates. It is a waste of my precious time and requires emotional energy that I do not have. That being said, someone for whom I have a lot of respect was recently being trashed on a blog by someone calling himself a Christian and so I felt compelled to gently throw in my two cents on the matter, which happened to be a religious matter. I should have guessed that my character would be the next to come into question.

One of the things thrown at me was, "You must not have done your homework on XYZ religious matter, because if you had you would know blah blah blah."


Here's the thing. Throughout my life I have done plenty of "homework" on spiritual matters. Only I find that the more I pursue God, it seems the questions on the test keep changing. I am wary of any stance which believes they have all the answers and have everything all figured out. I am especially turned off by those who use jargon such as "I say this in love" when what they really are saying is "I use the guise of 'love' as an excuse to judge you."

What if, when we get to the pearly gates, there are no pearly gates? What if there's a single mom, a homeless guy, a convicted felon, an inner city teenager, a prostitute, an abused child, a drug addict, your neighbor... all asking, "What did you do for me?"

What I'm saying is, there has been a lot of emphasis placed on 'heaven' or 'hell' or what happens when we die instead of how we're living now, and the power we have to change the lives of other people. Especially the less fortunate, the down-and-out, the hungry, the hurting and the oppressed. I personally believe the church in America in particular has completely missed the boat and it's beyond agonizing for me. This is why it has become so difficult for me to call myself a Christian... because the voice of mainstream western Christianity today is laced with venom for anyone whom they deem to be outside the club. (No Jesus fish on your car, no admission.)

So maybe I'm back on the prayer list and my salvation has come into question (again). Thank you for praying for me, even if piously, because I'm far from perfect and can certainly use plenty of assistance. In the mean time, I'm going to figure out how I can love Jesus and love people not just in word but in deed. Jesus was the man when it came to genuinely seeing people and meeting their needs. I'd rather follow him and his example than criticize those who walk a different path.



Man, the last couple of days have been rough! I think we're all sick of the cold weather (and yes, people at the park in shorts, it IS still cold even if it is almost June). So after a particularly dodgy evening Ocean is finally in bed. I just went up to sing him a song and say prayers. I said, "Dear Jesus, please bless..." and tonight Ocean offered the following prayer:
"Bless Cole and bless Daddy and bless Mommy and bless Ocean and bless Mikayla and bless Sophia and bless park and bless soft (his blanket) and bless Quack (his duck) and bless Mommy and bless wagon. A-a-a-a-a-a-amen."

It really is the simple things in life that bring us so much joy. Like our kids showing love and gratitude for the people and things that are important to them.

And wagons. Can't forget wagons.


grocery store shenanigans

Sigh. I'm now officially the proud-ish parent of a bona fide two year old. We've fully and robustly entered the "terrific twos" (as Phil and I promised to call them back in our idealistic days... oh how I long for those days...).

Have you ever taken a two year old to the grocery store? In the cart, out of the cart. Wanting to push the cart, wanting to ride in the cart, wanting to crawl under the cart. Putting things in the cart. Screaming, "APPLESAUCE!" every time he saw a jar of anything. And the final straw... when I asked him to put the ball back in the corral (parents, you know exactly the dirty, dirty marketing tactic I'm talking about) he smiled sweetly and said, "No, Mommy."

Stunned silence.

Followed by lots of wailing, screaming and tears (his, not mine) as I wrestled his little fanny back into the cart and finished my shopping to the chorus of Hems and Haws from the uppity single (and no doubt childless) folk in the produce department.

Capped off by lots of wailing, screaming and tears (mine, not his) once we got in the car.



photo booth fun

Ocean loves to look at himself on Photo Booth. We spent a half hour taking pictures the other day... here's some of the aftermath.


holy cuteness, batman

So here are the cute moments of the last few weeks.

Our first nominee is Iris who fell asleep in mid-play, still clutching her toy.

And her challenger is Ocean, whom Phil walked into the kitchen one morning to find sitting in a drawer.


Perhaps I should be flattered that every time I leave the room, Iris starts screaming. Not crying, but more of a shrill, ear-piercing, peel paint off the walls type of banshee scream.

Great, she misses me.

I might be able to deal with that alone, except that when Iris begins her crescendo Ocean chimes in with a, "NOOOOOOOOO IRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIS!" at the top of his mighty lungs. This, in turn, causes Iris to startle, and she begins to actually cry. Ocean hates to see his sister cry, so he starts wailing, "NO CRY, IRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIS!" The louder he yells, the louder she screams. The louder she screams, the more he yells. My 16 second bathroom break turns into the likes of a playroom prison riot and my eardrums feel like they might start to bleed.

Maybe one of these days, with a little luck, I might actually go deaf.

Keeping my fingers crossed.



Yes it's true. Every new stage of your child's development is your favorite. But honestly, this one really is my favorite! Ocean is talking a lot now and he's much easier to understand so we've been having the most hilarious conversations as of late. Here are the most recent:
Me: Ocean, what do you want to do today?
O: Hmmm... (tapping his chin with his index finger). Call Daddy.
Me: You want to call Daddy? What if we call one of your friends to come play. Which friend should I call?
O: My boots.
*We checked out a DVD at the library this week and there's a very excited butterfly in the program that says, "Somebody pinch me!"*

Ocean wiped out on the bottom step and landed on his tush. He put his head in his hands and cried, "Somebody pinch me!"

We were at the park later that same afternoon and I picked a dandelion for him. As I handed it to him he smiled and exclaimed, "Somebody pinch me!"

On our way home from the park the stroller ran over some very uneven pavement and it jostled him quite a bit. He furrowed his brow and mumbled, "Somebody pinch me."
O: What's that? (Pointing at a fly on the window)
Me: That's a fly.
O: What's that?
Me: A fly.
O: Mommy, what's that?
Me: That's a fly, Ocean.
O: What's that?
Me: What do YOU think it is?
O: A dragon.
O: What's that, Mommy? (Pointing at a port-a-potty en route to the park)
Me: That's a potty.
O: There Mommy's potty.
Me: That's not really Mommy's potty, but it is a potty.
O: Mommy poop in that potty.
Me: Mommy doesn't need to go poop.
O: Mommy go poop in that potty!
Me: *sigh.*
Whenever he hears an unfamiliar noise he cocks his head to the side and says, "Something hearing?"
He and my dad were playing with a ball. Ocean threw it and said to my dad, "Go get it, T-Bone!" (one of Clifford the Big Red Dog's puppy friends)