Urban Organica

advent making with toddlers

 

Aloha Crafty-Crows!  It's always nice to have you drop in. :)  My sweet D & our big guy took a wee business + football trip to Denver for a few days.  How nice to leave the internet off, the magazines closed & to get to know my little guys without their all-important role models around.  I realized I have no idea what they like - some of it was a huge revelation to me.  There was lots of direction-giving with ideas to fill the tree for Daddy.  Hot apple juice with cinnamon sticks.  Chocolate mate tea with candy cane stirs...      

 

Pimping out our sycamore pods & pine cones with glitter, mounting our sea-shell collection, adding a few ribbon-wreaths here & there...

Help with the fire..."sticks for the fire, sticks for the fire, we're gonna get some sticks for the fire..."

Putting up a few things we're too big for...(sniff**) 

Keeping the maple syrup, cinnamon & tea out all 100 hours & eating our meals on the kid's counter & kitchen floor with fancy napkins...
 
 

And who knew that these stuffies from the neighbor that I 'd wanted to recycle were actually Rudolph & Winter Pooh? 

And that my boyish-of-boys, who promptly removed all play-silks, waldorf dolls & kitchens from their playspace in favor of football game-passes & wristbands, are really all about dressing up their animals?(Thrifted red sweater + an old sock...)  They knew exactly what they needed & they care for them with the most tender little papa gestures.

 
 And eachother...so sweet to see my littlest with eachother.  Like this...

Monday morning in their jammies, they wandered into my closet.  Real (1 1/2), with a very concerned expression, "Let's go get Daddy NOW."  Free (4) "YOu miss Daddy & Brother? Yeah?  Let's hug about it!"  Real throws himself into his brother with the giantest of hugs.  Free goes, "Ahh...hahhh."  While patting his brother on the back.  

Making tiny clothes, eating sweets, covering my home in red glitter while watching spontaneous bursts of love & affection.   Bliss.

woodworking :: mt washington

A couple of weeks ago True & I were having a midnight mom-&-boy serious talk about our Christmas Village.  You know, how it was going to go, how the train was going to go around the entire yard & we'd cut holes in the walls & tracks up into the trees & all that.  How we'd have goats & chickens by then & how the railroad would go around the animals, upsetting them with all those good train noises.  And it would pass by our homeschooling & studio yurts on the way into the house, where it would eventually make it's way up onto our train table, because, that's where train tracks go.

Oh, it's sooo hard to hold back my instinct to shut down those ideas with a few "warnings" that we wouldn't be able to make it exactly like all that.  Or really, anything like that, actually.  I just don't want to disappoint him when he sees what we end up with.  But I did my best, & managed to throw in my own fantastical ideas - like the yurts, for example.  (We will have those. We will.)  I was feeling very proud of myself as his picture became clearer & clearer, & could actually feel his trust in me building, to hold his idea fully.  As a whole idea, not a chopped-up, mama-modified one.  Yes.  I was feeling quite proud of myself.

Then he sat bolt upright, looked at me & clapped his hands together.  "Okay, Mom, now we have to do it this time.  You always say we're going to do this kinda thing & we always don't get to it.  WE REALLY GOTTA GET OUR BUTTS IN GEAR!" 

Okay.  Gulp.  First he calls me on that thing.  That thing all moms hope their kids don't notice - all the things we say we're going to do, but "don't get to."  Then he cracks me up with that.  That declaration.  Inspiring.  Like a little army general or something.  Then I realize he means it. 

"Well okay-then.  Let's talk about it in the morning."  

 

The next day we drew it all out & it became clear Luckily his plan required some serious handy-business, so there was that very important cushion to help out.  We had ordered a bunch of real child-sized wood-working materials through his public homeschooling charter.  Other moms with toddlers are somehow able to do everything under the sun.  And there is just no possible way I could find time to show him how to use those things safely, let alone make the time to really build with him.  We called his GranPops, the firefighter & electrician to set up a woodworking date.  

So I sent him off to make the beginnings of his Christmas Village - maybe a little shed or something.  And what came home?  The Mount Washington.  In our family, happiness is the Mount Washington.  For the last 6 years, the island neighbors shared that top one up there.  Then 2 years ago the one above appeared two cabins down.  And now.  He has one to share, too.  

Pretty much a perfect Christmas, already.

 

 

fall fairy skirt + scarf tutorials

 

sometimes it's thanksgiving & a few days before, we hold a sewing workshop. maybe a mama comes over, having been at the e.r. the night before, & gets my whole family totally sick.  sometimes.  and so, sometimes everyone gets better, 'cept me & the wee, & we send them all off for a holiday at grandma's.  and we spend a blissful/brutal 2 1/2 days clearing out rooms, puddling around, & making stuff, in between episodes of sick stuff.  sometimes.  and we all live happily ever after.  

this post is dedicated to my sweetheart, who i am so very grateful for.

These projects can be done by any 10 year-old who knows their way around a sewing machine, in under an hour, for FREE.  Yup.  Free.  You just have to have some elastic thread on hand, & be willing to cut up your clothes.  If not, you can pick up sweaters, tweed pants & pretty dresses at any thrift store for under $5 each.  The fairy skirt doesn't require a machine. 

Autumn Fairy Skirt Tutorial

Gather:

1 dress or shirt in Fall colors, fabric shears, elastic thread, embroidery needle, safety pin

Do:

1.) Cut off the bottom 12"-15" of a dress or shirt.  Linen, cotton, jersey, double gauze.  It all works here.

2.) Take that tube & flip it's hem upside-down, so that it's on top.  Notice that you'll use the hem as a "casing" for elastic thread.

3.) Cut out a bunch of free-form oak leaves in different sizes, making sure to leave at least 1" of hem-casing at the top of each leaf.

4.) Double thread the elastic through an embroidery needle.  Knot the ends around a safety pin to prevent the elastic from slipping through.  Thread together your oak leaves, squishing them together as you go.  For a larger child or more interesting skirt, use different fabrics.  The one above uses a woven-cotton dress, it's lining, & 2 leaves from a thin corduroy dress.  

5.) Fit to child by wrapping the strung leaves around waist.  Make sure there's both enough leaves to get that ruched top & enough "give" to pull off & on.  Remove safety pin & knot elastic ends closed.  Trim of extra elastic & pull knot through casing to hide.  Don't wash! 

 

 

Tweeds + Stripes Scarf

Gather:

1 wool or cotton sweater (felting not required), 1 pair tweed pants, fabric shears, sewing machine

Do:

1.) Cut out a 7"-wide tube from the body of sweater.  Set aside bottom ribbing & rest of sweater for another project.  Cut across the width of tube on one side, so that it becomes a long strip.

2.) Cut out a 7"-wide, leg-long strip from the pants.  

3.) Lay out tweed strip, right-side up.  Lay sweater strip over it, right-side down.  Trim both to match lengths.  

4.) Starting at one end, sew together around outside, using a straight-stitch & 1/4" seam allowance.  Sweater may stretch a bit, so just sew other end where the two fabrics meet & trim afterwards.   Leave starting end open.  Turn right-side-out.

5.) Tuck in end.  Stitch around edge of entire scarf.  It will look cleaner if you sew with the tweed-side up.  There you go...Cozy!

my lil' friend enzo flossing his winter gear 

measuring the last harvest

Children & Gardens :: A Curriculum in:

Joy.  Miracles. Weather.  Life Cycles.  Seasons.  Anatomony.  Botanical Illustration.  Beneficial Relationships.  Pests.  Earth Magic.  Stewardship.  Measuring.  Counting.  Multiplying.  Dividing.  Cooking. Joy.  Subtraction.  Probability.  Physical Education.  Basic Needs Generation.  Color Theory.  Applied Labor.  Inquiry.  Scientific Hypothesis.  Beauty.  Goodness.  Truth.  Right Livelihood.  Sustainability.  Crisis.  Neglect.  New Beginnings.  Patience.  Power.  Humility.

 

 

 
 
 
 Did I say Joy?  

I only wish for a green thumb.  My Winter greens grow all year long, regardless of my input.  Thank goodness for Lolas & second homes.  A place where they can plant from seed & seedling, a place to visit & observe, care & remember, & finally, to harvest & measure.  

 It may not be my garden, but I have a few favorite gardening books...

Autumn Nature Activities for Children (And Winter, Spring & Fall)

Hollyhocks & Honeybees

Roots Shoot Buckets & Boots

Sun Flower Houses

You Grow Girl   

breakfast #27 - crepes savory & sweet

I think there are 2 kinds of breakfast people:  Savory.  And sweet.  I am savory.  The other day I was reading the incomparable Mollie Katzen's Sunlight Cafe cookbook, & came upon a list of breakfast foods, categorized by nation.  Ahhh.  Filipinos do, indeed, eat fried rice, fish & vegetables for breakfast every morning.  What?  I really didn't know!!  I was born in San Francisco, to two hard-core American hippies, who just happened to be Filipino, born there, but raised here.  My brothers & I were baptized both in churches & with the dew on the morning leaves.   We've spent our entire lives looking to reconnect, understand & celebrate all Filipiniana.  There's some little Pinay inside me that slapped my shoulder & said, "Hah! Good Job!"  How weird is that?  Like I'm doing a good job, eating the right breakfasts.  In my family we whack each other when something is funny, but I never noticed.  I went to my mom's hometown when I was 17.  At one point there was 21 of us piled into the back of a jeep.  Somebody said something funny, & instantly the whole jeep became musical as everyone slapped everyone else on the back, on their knees, their arms, their heads.  (Hey!)  Every culture has a mood.  Go to the Philippines if you're in the mood for good.  

So while my children hovered around the stovetop this morning, chanting, "More syrup!  More berries!"  I was heating a little lunchy, salty crepe action.  Mmmhh.  This is a lovely Fall breakfast, with the tart-cinnamon backnote as you crunch into farm-fresh spinach, tangy Feta & freshly grated nutmeg.  There's just no comparing ground nutmeg to the on-the-spot stuff, they have an entirely different vibe altogether.  And, we used to be vegan, & so here's a dairyless Feta recipe.

This morning I busted out a crepe pan I had purchased during a mental-health break at the Culinary Institute of America, in Napa, where I go to regroup & rethink.  I've been holding it for months, not wanting to risk any crepe-failure experiments.  And, yeah, you should just go get one, right now.  If you can.  If not, I'd check in with Santa, apply for a grant, call your Auntie.   There's a few things I changed up here from the Basic Crepes recipe, which is in our 30-Day Menu Plan:

1. A correctly-seasoned crepe pan vs. a skillet

2. Coconut oil.  Heats so fast, smells insane & creates that lovely, crunchy laced edge

3. Soy milk vs. coconut milk - just so available.  We just added & stirred until the whole thing looked like double cream.  Add whatever milk you drink.

4. Sweet sorghum flour vs. Everyday Flour.  No reason, just ran out of mix...

5. An extra egg.  When in doubt.  Add an extra egg.

I'll drop the recipe here, but as always, I really think you have to feel it out.  Food is alive & does it's own thing, & you are alive, so you know, dance with your kitchen...

Laced Crepes

2 cups sweet sorghum flour

1 teaspoon xanthum gum

2 eggs

2 cups milk

3 tablespoons coconut butter, + more for cooking

Mix all the ingredients thoroughly with a wooden spoon.  Add more milk if it looks wet, more flour if it looks dry.  It should be like cream.  Heat a crepe pan over medium heat & use your spatula to swirl a teaspoon of coconut oil along the bottom.  Using a 1/4 measuring cup, pour batter into the pan, starting from the center & spreading it in a circular motion to make a thin disc.  It's better to make them smaller, than larger while you get the hang of it.  As the crepe cooks, the edges will dry & peel off the pan a little.  Look for the bubbles.  Turn the crepe over & heat the other side.  Both sides should be golden, but not crispy.  I generally do a little victory dance as the first crepe comes off the pan.  They're easy, but they're just so beautiful.

Raspberry Sauce

2 cups frozen berries

1/4 cup of syrup (we don't need much.  Add as much as you like)

3/4 cup water

1 teaspoon cinnamon

Put all in a saucepan & bring to a boil.  Lower heat immediately, give a stir & let simmer while you make your batter.  Stir every once in a while & break down the berries.  It's ready when it's been reduced to a thick sauce, about 10 minutes.

Spinach Filling

1 bunch of fresh spinach, or 1 bag frozen chopped, thawed & drained

1 cup Feta cheese, broken into bits

plenty of fresh nutmeg, or dried dill

white pepper to taste

Heat spinach & cheese in a small skillet until the Feta begins to soften & blend together. Push the mixture to the side & pour out any liquid.  Add the nutmeg & pepper.  

**The boys said to remind you to add whip cream.  Yeesh.  

food as medicine :: Annapurna's

A little bit of Ayurvedic food for thought from Albuquerque's Annapurna, a woman-owned "healing cafe."  Although not specifically gluten-free, we had our choice of most items on the very-full, diverse menu.  I really enjoy Ayurvedic practices, meant to balance out an individual's overall composition, but I'm never quite sure about how the food is supposed to taste.  Like, is it okay to add salt?  Or does that defeat the point of the dish?  

 I thought the house made cheese in Korma was fantastic, but I definitely added salt!  Same for the saag, an Indian "creamed curry."  This cafe has a soothing, professionally -bohemian vibe, a vibrant, tangible commitment & food that feels light & nourishing.  Some of the dishes are surprising & interesting, such as the comfortingly familiar pancakes (gf), smothered in mango sauce & shaved coconut.  I'll be heading over whenever I'm in town.

 

 

Candy Math

Oh, darn!  I've been told I HAVE to remove the picture of the homemade candy store + inventory graph.  Apparently, it's private.  Of course.

There seems to be no end to the sugar-inspired moments around here.  From toddlers sneaking up on the counter to Candy Land, I think they've caught the sugarbug.  Oh, how I long for the days before that first Pinata.  But I am for sure the model for all this, because although the Great Pumpkin came & traded their sweets for "Newer, Favorit-er Candies," I have hidden myself a hefty stash of Twix, Reese's, & Kit Kats.  Let's just call that, "Confessions of a full-out-mama."  I am consuming no less than 7 pieces a day.

Meanwhile we have a "candy shop," inspired by both Pippi Longstocking's shopping spree & Wonka's factory.  (They are begging me to take them to the C&H Sugar Factory.)  The shop is selling a mix of boy-made treats consisting of coffee-filter bon-bons, Wonka Bars & my favorite, turtle-fabric-covered "turtles," as well as family favorites like Organic Lollipops, Sunspire Chocolate-Covered Sun Seeds, Fair Trade Dark Chocolate Bits, PEELU Dental Gum & Bach Rescue Remedy Pastilles.  I have no shame in the natural foods department, obviously.  But it goes like this.   

Free steals 5 little cocoa bars from his up-high basket.  I catch him & hand him a glass of water & suggest a piece of dental gum.  Within 10 minutes he starts a screaming tug-o-war with his little brother. I offer them both a Rescue Remedy aka, "Medicine Takes," as they call them.  Peace ensues.   They ask for more candy & I direct them to True, who is selling safer candies on the stairwell.  He divies up the treats, charges them for their goods & takes inventory on his mandatory graph.  Every once in a while someone finds a hidden Sunspire "M&M" in those play candies, at which point everyone jumps around singing, "I've got a golden ticket! dadadadadada-dah!"

Saved By Soul Food

color week :: yellow

On Friday I found myself sitting in Borders, self-comforting with 3 stacks of craft books, cook books & blogging books.  I love all three.  And I've been feeling totally burnt-out on all three for awhile now.  Some of you noticed my little project on the right, there, The Totally Organized (gluten) Free Lifestyle Kit.  Except, it wasn't a little project.  D & I have been wanting to simplify for a long time, to downsize enough for life to slow down so we could only take on businesses that were really aligned with our values.  Enter the economy, "setting a new stage" for nearly all of us. The Spring brought the perfect chance to create a marketable version of our kits.  I thought these up years ago, when I was just trying to manage keeping a home, & having a hard time working it into everything else I love.  

Eventually these "Homemaking 101" kits became gluten-free-specific.  Friends got word & we've been making small batches of them since last Fall.  We put out a  test site & it turned out that folks wanted & needed them much sooner than we could bust them out.  Even though I've felt strongly for myself that required diets can be a strain on a marriage & a family, it was moving to see how real this is for others.  And the hope of an easier way.  Even more, my biggest wish is to help others do what they do, to help them get the blocks out of the way.  And the GF diet is important because it has people talking about healing themselves through diet.  If anything can save the world, it's that conversation.  So from April to September, I've been working on it 'round the clock, writing, cooking, testing, shopping, calling, editing.  I've missed my kids.  I've been really tired.  And really tired of cooking, blogging & crafting.  Actually, not crafting.  Tired of wanting to craft.  A lot's been put on hold.

I picked up BT's book, which I already owned, for a little inspiration.  A word on B.  When we first met I felt like I already knew him.  He carried himself similarly to my brothers, Elrik & Alvin.  Like, when he walks into a room, everyone looks up because love just walked in.  On purpose & low key, B was wearing a bright green polo shirt with a charcoal tweed fedora!  I'd have worn that if I owned it.  He talked about his Green & Black fund, & that he's Green (being an award-winning Environmental + Food Justice Activist) & Black.  And he had just published his now best-selling book, GRUB, Recipes for an Urban Organic Kitchen.  Nuff said.

B taught me to let go of the diet titles (I was an organic vegetarian) & to eat what my body needs while still upholding my ethical values.  He cooked our crew veggies, then.  I was 7 months pregnant with Free.  2 years later our family was in West Virginia where I was co-facilitating a Leveraging Privilege for Social Change Jam.  B was heading up the kitchen & I was secretly pregnant. B took a special day trip to find me local, natural free-range lamb.

As I thumbed through his book I began to well-up - look at what he's doing!  I called him up right there.  He was at some conference in some far-away state.  He was on his 75th event for the book since it came out this year.  I've been in "mama-mode" for so long, I've forgotten that it takes major work to shift things.

"B, I don't want to market.  I'm an artist.  I just want to make a difference.  And cook."

He stepped outside & dictated a prescription from his latest cookbook, VEGAN SOUL KITCHEN.  

I began with the Simple Stock on Saturday.  And yesterday I cooked from dawn 'till dusk.  It was too dark to take a picture by the time I finished, so I'll do that at lunch, & I'll put together a couple of recipes.  But this is what he said:

"Gumbo Z.  All those comforting greens & that warm-gravy thing going on.  Black-Eyed Pea Fritters with Hot Pepper Sauce.  You'll love that.  And Sweet Cornmeal-Coconut  Butter Drop Biscuits."  

There's friends.  And then there's life lines.  

Thanks Bryant.  Mom's don't need food that's transformational.  They need food that's transporting. So they can come back to their families, as a full & overflowing cup.

Bryant & I in 2005.  I'm 7 months pregnant with Free.  B suggested our Jam take a silent hike through Petaluma's golden hills.

nursing wearing baby loving

 

 

 

this guy reminds me of d.  lucky baby.  when free was an infant, he made it clear to everyone possible that he was a guy's guy.  it surprised me every single night as he would call out for his daddy, d would put him on, & they would head out to look for la luna.  a couple of times i went along & got to see the whole process, free look around, studying whatever was in sight, then d would point out la luna, they'd admire her together & free would look up into his daddy's eyes, smile, coo & snuggle his head into d's chest.  mind you, i would be right there, & that sweet baby had no interest in seeing whether or not i had noticed that moon. within seconds he would be sound asleep.  it's been like that for years.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

nursing wearing baby loving from urban organica on Vimeo.

 

 

the other night i was nursing real to sleep & free sat on the floor fiddling with the camera.  generally he takes pictures of his thumbs.  he knows how to use the camera, but he "likes pictures of thumbs."  being four, now, he figured out something new.   i don't have much to remember these moments, save for the fact that i was there.   lucky mommy.  (i'm not the only one who considers any whinehouse for lullabies,right?)

a 3-birth story

After True was born, we were a family of 3, & we were happy.  We were in love, he was our miracle boy, & the three of us danced together in our living room, every single day.  And that was completely real.

At the same time, a part of us was broken. We knew that I could not survive another pregnancy - I had gone down to 82 pounds the first time, memories of hospital stays were omnipresent & the two of them were dealing with their own individual cases of nearly invisible, but nonetheless real post-traumatic stress from the whole thing.  We were happy, And...in the same way I miss my grandparents & wonder where they are, I missed my other children, who I knew were out there.  I missed them so much it made me cry & I would whisper to them at night, where ever they were.  I told them that I loved them, that I was their mommy & that I didn't know how they would come to me, or if I would ever even meet them, but that I loved them.  

My recovery the first time began after (but not because) I acknowledged that I might lose True, that maybe his gift to me was just to be with me in utero, but not in "real life."  Not as a baby I could hold or a child I could get to know & raise.  After I accepted that - & I can honestly say that I did; I thanked him profusely for coming to be with me for that short time, for generating such a force of emotions & love & growth & experience, even as a baby in my belly - things began to turn around.  I could drink water.  Then I could drink soup.  I could eat a bit of rice.  I could stay awake.  I could carry on a conversation of more than 3 sentences & stay awake for more than an hour.  I made a rice-paper, heart-shaped dirigible hot-air balloon, pieced together with floss, holding up a tiny bassinet with a blanket & pillow to hold his little spirit for when I was too filled with fear for him to stay inside.  I wanted him to know it was safe with us, safe for him to stay.  And then I was well.  And True joined us.

The lights were off, the midwife was massaging essential oils into my toes to counter the contractions & they had lit countless candles.   D was laboring in the bath behind me, as his own injured back was aching & the water was getting colder & colder.  I could hear a favorite mix of beats mixed with Tibetan monks chanting about blessings in all forms.  My family was in the next room, & they all jumped up & cheered the moment they heard cries.  True was born at home in the water, in 45 minutes. He gently swam to the top.  Dr. Bleecker was wise enough to stand back the entire time - the only thing he did the entire labor was to say, post-partum, "Aren't you going to pick up your baby?"  D & I birthed him together.

Fast forward to my angel-whisperings.  Folks asked if we were going to have more, as people love to ask.  And the easy answer, different then the truth, which was, "We can't," was, "Not for a long time!  We're tired!!"  And yet we'd find ourselves talking about our "other" children, & what a great older brother True would be.  We wondered where they would come from.  I asked D how he felt about adopting, & his eyes instantly welled up - He envisioned walking his daughter down the wedding aisle, along with her biological father.  "Absolutely."

And then I was pregnant.  I knew because I needed a Filet-O-Fish.  Yes.  From McDonald's.  Which could only mean one thing.  I demanded it & D drove me there immediately, knowing he must feed me whatever I wanted, or the cycle would begin.  I had to eat & keep eating, or risk dying.   I didn't know then that I was sick because of my children's food sensitivities.  I knew that I had a rare condition, with a name, but without a specific cure.  I can say now, with total medical clarity that I almost died, twice, because my children were allergic to certain foods & certain chemicals.  They required me to clean up & detox at such an extreme level, I needed home nurses for months on end, flushing me out with IV's.  My sweetest memories of that time were True, at 3 years-old, feeding me a steady stream of pipe cleaner "balloons," little loops twisted with tail-stems.  I couldn't hold him, carry him or play with him.  I could only thank him & say "I Love You."  I love You.  I Love you. i love you.  And then I was well.

Four years ago today, Free was born at home.  True had woken me up in the middle of the night for snacks, in hopes of a midnight date.  Usually I would have told him to go back to sleep, but there was something in his sweetness that told me I wouldn't be alone with him again.  And it's true, I think, that our children look different once they have siblings, because we are changed.  And they are changed.  We fixed a plate of food & he woke up D to call our midwives.  He knew before I did that Free was coming.  I think we had read Welcome with Love so many times, he was the most prepared person in our home.  He kept visiting me in the bath, grabbing my wrist & "checking my pulse."  As my pre-labor began, Tosi realized my voice was already "catching," & said, "Okay that's the baby."  Free was born in 4 minutes.  We were all startled & as I held him he didn't make a sound.  Being a woman of great wisdom, Tosi said both  firmly & gently, "Everyone Breath In.  Everyone say, 'Welcome, we are So Happy You're Here."  True & D repeated her with total love & excitement.  I was still stunned & barely mumbled back.  But Free heard us & opened his mouth into a big, beautiful cry.  I saw him bloom in front of me & I began crying to, & thanking him for coming, & saying, "Welcome.  I Love you.  Welcome.  I love you.  Thank you."

And then we were happy.  We were a family of four.  We biked around our town everyday.

And I became depressed.  I think many women don't realize they have post-partum depression because it's absolutely possible to be both truly happy & depressed at the same time.  It's possible to be fully functioning, joyful & inspired while still feeling lost, stopped, devastated & out-to-lunch.   Where was my other baby?  I knew there was someone else out there, but I didn't know where they were.  And I began wishing for a funny thing.  I wished to wake up one day, 4 months pregnant.  I wished that one day I would wake up & realize, "Oh, wow, I didn't get sick!"  In the meantime our kids had been de-allergized for spinach, wheat, soy, rice, chocolate, caffeine, tomatoes, food coloring, preservatives, & sugar.  The only thing that didn't work was the wheat.  So I had cut it out.  And in the meantime I eliminated the depression with an ambitious game of NET, cranial-sacral chiropractic, organic vegetarian foods,  weekly coaching, daily affirmations, regular massage, homeopathics, flower essences & exercise.  All that may seem extreme, but I had no intention of managing depression long-term.  I was committed to real & lasting happiness, & I owed it to D, Free & True.  And guess what?

Yes.  I woke up one morning & went to McDonald's.  If you are a new reader, then let me just say now.  I don't eat at McDonald's.  I eat things like home-grown chard & local organic sushi rice.  Not what I ordered that day.  And that Filet-O-Fish was so.  Freaking.  Good.  And then I sat in the parking lot & cried & cried.  For some reason I had no cash on me & had to pay for it in quarters that were stored in the door for the meters.  And for some reason I made that mean I had no money for "Real Food," since we had spent our food budget that week.  Then I realized that was ridiculous & that I was pregnant.  

3 1/2 months, to be exact.  And Real stayed inside for an extra month, so I got to be pregnant for a really, really long time.  And I cherished every second, because I did know this was it.  A bonus miracle.  He was born at home, while the midwives lovingly said one thing, "Oh, she's birthing him into her own hands."  And Free said, "Look, there's the baby.  Can I have another cookie?"  And Real was born.  3 pounds heavier than his brothers.  And yelling.  He proceeded to yell & scream, happy, sad, angry & laughing, until he was 16 months old. 

And we are all happy.  They say you know when your family is complete.  And we do.  Except for that girl, who we will one day find when the boys are much older.   

She will come to us another way.  In the mean time, we count our blessings ever single day.

You boys are my miracles.  Happy Birthday, Free.  4 Years Old.  Amazing.  amazing.