Day: June 4, 2006

I walked downstairs to find the source of the giggling. Since I was in a house with 12 children under 12 it wasn’t too hard to guess that some sort of romp was going on. In this case the romp was centered around a foam-filled bean bag chair. Patches and his cousin had discovered that if they sat on one side and Howard flopped on the other side, then two little boys would fly into the air giggling. Just as I arrived downstairs the game changed shape. There were a four little girls ages 3-5 who didn’t want to be left out of the fun. Unfortunately this population increase left no room on the bean bag for Howard to flop without squashing a small someone. When Uncle Howard failed to flop, one little girl decided to make him. She began shoving his legs. Howard responded by grabbing her and tossing her onto the bean bag. Instantly Howard was mobbed by a swarm of 6 munchkins all grabbing his legs and awaiting their turn to be thrown. I wish I’d had a camera because it really was like something out of Gulliver’s Travels. Howard was trapped, because for every child he tossed at least two more were hanging onto his legs. Howard continued to throw lilliputians for a good ten minutes before he got too tired. I then waded in to help throw them twice as fast thus opening a pathway to escape. Howard collapsed into a chair and before the horde could descend upon him I distracted them by crying out “Hey look! There’s a sandbox outside!” They all stampeded for the door and left the tired grown ups in peace for awhile.

Today was a day for varied small realizations:

I’ve been attributing the personal renaissance that I’ve experienced during the last two years to beginning this livejournal. The livejournal has definitely played a role, but it suddenly seems blindingly obvious that having Howard at home plays a much bigger part. Howard finally has time and brainspace to relax into the role of “daddy” and I finally have time and brainspace to be something besides “mommy.” It makes me so glad.

My gladness leads directly to my next realization. Howard and I and our whole family are incredibly blessed. We’re getting to live a dream that remains out of reach for so many people. When life and God give me so much, I need to be doing more to give back. I need to be doing more to make sure that this world is a better place for my having passed through.

The “life as a road” metphor leads me to my third stop on this train of thought. I’ve been reading Life is a Road the Soul is a Motorcycle by Daniel Meyer. I’m not a motorcycle rider, I’ve never even been on one. Prior to reading this book my thoughts on motorcycles were pretty much confined to the average life expectancy of a teen on a rocket bike or pondering the seeming stupidity of riding at 60 mph on a freeway while wearing shorts and no helmet. Meyer has given me a whole different view. I can now see that for him riding a bike connects him with the universe and with himself. I find that same connection while gardening or hiking or writing. That drive to live rather than just exist is powerful and Meyer expresses it well if differently than I do. The book is well written and entertaining, probably even more so to someone who already is a rider. Check it out on his website: http://www.lifeisaroad.com/

These realizations are brought to you courtesy of us having lots of family in town. I don’t know what it is about family, but conversations with them are so comfortable that they shake loose tightly held preconceptions. Also there is something delightful about having a dozen kids running around playing when they all share resemblances. Cousins are a wonderful thing. I’m glad my kids have lots of them. At one point the daughter of Howard’s brother climbed into my lap and started a conversation with me. I looked down into her big blue eyes and realized that although have zero blood relation to this child, she is MY neice. Considering that I have 6 siblings and Howard has 3 and all of us are Mormon and therefore believers in large families, I should have known that becoming an aunt was inevitable. In fact, I’ve been an aunt for longer than I’ve been a mother. Strange that aunthood didn’t feel real until today with that small little person who plonked into my lap without warning. She and I hadn’t really exchanged any words before, but there she was smiling and talking and snuggling, trusting me to be kind and good. I have the chance to be an aunt, to be a good influence in her life. The relationship I build with her matters because although she is barely 4, she is already forming ideas about how extended family works. I want her to know that no matter what happens she has a larger saftey net she can fall back on. I’ve always known that my uncles and aunts would jump to help me if I ever needed it. Now it is my turn to be the safety net for the next generation. How strange and unexpected this “growing up” thing turns out to be.