So help me God...

When I was putting Harper in the car at the drug store this morning, I was kind of in a zone... I had just learned that my favorite diaper cream (the ONLY kind worth using in my opinion) has been discontinued. Why don't companies discontinue their dumb useless products? Instead... It's always something genius they do away with, like the P.B. Maxx or Sour Lemon Sharks or Triple Paste diaper cream.

So, anyways... I was zoning and I hoisted Harper into his car seat and he bonked his knee. He grabbed it and yelled, "God, help me!"

I was a little astonished because that is not a phrase we really unless we are praying, so I asked him where that came from and he answered as if I should already know.

"I ask God to help me and He will give me joy. And some food."

So, even for Harper, today is a God-help-me kind of day... And maybe even that kind of week. Actually, this is just a God-help-me kind of life. So, today I am going to cry out for God to give me help, joy and perhaps a little snack.

While my deepest joy comes from knowing a God who genuinely hears my cries, a more shallow, fleeting joy comes from candy. So, let us all pray that God will help us through these we-need-Him kind of lives and throw a prayer in that a P.B. Maxx (or another senselessly discontinued candy product) rains down like manna from heaven.

danthing with the starth.

this is an actual conversation i participated in today while i was on playground duty at the girls' school:

harper: is he an awesome guy?
me: i don't know, you'll have to ask him.
harper: are you an awesome guy?
boy: ummm... yeah... i am... because i'm gonna be on dancing with the stars with my girlfriend.
me: well, that's ridiculous because you're too young to have a girlfriend.
boy: yeah, but i'm seven, so i'm old enough to be the same age as my girlfriend.
me: can't argue with that. but... i still think that's a little young to have a girlfriend. and definitely too young to be on dancing with the stars.
boy: yeah... but that's how come i'm awesome.

harper (laughing under his breath): ha! he not awesome guy.

maybe mufasa knew a thing or two.

i have had a really hard time posting a blog lately because i felt like i couldn't write about anything unless i wrote about the fact that my grandma passed away. the truth is that i didn't know how to write about that, but i also felt like it was wrong to write about "regular life" because my grandma june died and i feel like i must acknowledge it properly.

i didn't know how to write about her passing, because it was so different than my understanding of death and dying. my most profound experience with death was so tragic and untimely that i have not known how to process the death of my grandmother, who lived a full life and whose death was a relief of her suffering, opposed to a tragic injustice. since, in my mind, i cannot reconcile these two experiences to mean the same things, or have the same implications in my life... i will just write it. i will just tell the story.

my grandma passed while i was in michigan. thanks to my brilliant mentor, heidi, who told me to go home, i was able to say goodbye and be a support to my other family members. like a good mentee, i obeyed heidi's advice, and am so thankful for that because i feel like i was home when i really needed to be home. i spent some great time with my aunt, and in my selfish brain i think i was at least somewhat helpful to her during a time where she experienced the pain only a daughter can feel when she loses her mama. i watched my aunt diane lay next to my tiny, dying grandmother. and it was awful. but it was also beautiful.

as i sat there, and watched my aunt snuggle up next to my grandma and all i could think about was the circle of life. (trust me, i know how cliche, and lion king-esque that sounds...) but it is totally the truth. i watched them curled up together, and thought how so long ago, my grandma brought my aunt into this world in a hospital bed. how she gave life to her, nurtured her, and soothed her. and here we were now. junie and diane, holding each other, once again, in a hospital bed. but this time, diane would whisper to my grandma, smoothing her hair, telling her that it's okay to let go. just as she brought my aunt into this world, my aunt was gently guiding her out of it.

it was awful. and it was beautiful. i couldn't believe how similar birth and death really are. when someone is in labor, it is a painful and miraculous thing to behold. it was much the same watching my grandmother struggle through the last days of her life. it was painful to watch, but there was a beauty to it at the same time. and while the end of labor pains are really a beginning of new life here on earth, the end of my grandmothers pain was also the beginning of new life. just not on this earth. so to me, it still seemed something of a miracle... to see my grandmother labor and die, only to be birthed into her new life in heaven.

my idea of death has never been quiet this sweet. and i can honestly say that i am thankful that i was able to see the end of my grandmother's life. it has been healing in some way, and maybe just for the time being, i feel like telling death, "i ain't mad atchya." and as the anniversary of my brother's tragic and untimely death creeps closer, there is something to be said for that.

so, there it is. i have written the story. i'm sure it makes no sense at all, but i somehow feel free to write about all the other things jumbled in my mind. i have never considered myself a writer, but the fact that i could not move forward until that was all written down... must mean a little something.

Harper P. turns three

So, our little harper is three years old. For his birthday, we had an 80's themed roller skating party. He chose the roller skate part, the 80's part was really just for my sake. He had a great time and skated like a champ... Which is more than I can say for some people (namely my father-in-law who fell and injured himself.)

I have never seen a kid Harper's age anticipate their birthday with this degree of commitment. On our cross-country road trip this summer, Harper woke up many mornings in the tent (way too early and completely dilirious) saying "m-m-m-my bertday deptember deventeenth." He would studder through that phrase most mornings, probably around 5am, I would confirm that that was, in fact, his birthdate and he would fall right back to sleep.

I was afraid his birthday would be pretty anti-climactic since we don't really go bananas with the kids' birthday. (Ok, one year we went a little bananas because Marlie wanted the theme of her party to be aliens and strawberry shortcake. That party got a little bananas because so many people came - just out of curiosity really.)

But, I didn't have any bananas planned for Harper, and I was nervous because he has literally been dreaming about his birthday for months, and the sheer excitement of it all was waking him at 5 in the morning on most days.

I stopped worrying about his disappointment when my friend Lexi said that for his birthday we could take him flying in a little airplane. Apparently she knows a guy...

So, we are on our way right now to take Harper (and the girls) up in a plane. Maybe this is what he was dreaming about all those mornings in the tent... Or maybe it was something else. Either way, I'm pretty sure there is no disappointment involved.

Sometimes, when we are tucking Harper in at night, we read a book to him called "We Wanted You" and he has every line memorized. The book talks about being adopted, and how we waited for him, how we anticipated his arrival, much in the same way he waited in excitement for his birthday to finally arrive. One of my favorite lines in that book comes to mind as we drive out to take him for his very first flight in an airplane. It says...

"And so we came, we flew! Because that's how much we wanted you."

@laracapuano