Tryin' To Figure It Out

Spoiler alert -- if there are nearby small children who are exceptional early readers -- close this screen and open, again, at a later time.

Okay, so, it's later.  As if the Easter Bunny isn't interesting enough, what gives with the Tooth Fairy?  We, here, play all of it up big time, because it's fun.  It's imaginative.  It's the magic of childhood.  Thanks to friend Teri Doty I got the idea years ago that the Tooth Fairy leaves a mess of silver, magic glitter all over the place when he/she visits.  Surely, "Mom" would never make such a mess in the house, right?  And ya know how I've often compared Baylor to Rowling's Hermione and to Cleary's Ramona?  Well, apparently her imaginative, dreamy Ramona side was doing battle with her inner Hermione, because this is the note she left on her dresser: 

(The interesting grammar and capitalizations -- and occasional lack thereof -- are Bay's.)

"Dear tooth Fairy, This If you can, could I please have something rather than money like something from wherever you stay or something else!  What do you do with all the teeth?  Write back!  P.S. I tried to clean my tooth.  --Baylor A. Cluver"

And the note next to the note beside some candy pieces she also set out:

"For tooth Fairy  Enjoy!  Why do you put Glitter everywhere?  Are you small?  are you a boy or Girl?  --Baylor A. Cluver

She is totally into it, but wouldn't mind some proof, and thinks there's a reasonable chance she'll get some magical stuff and/or mystical answers.  She apparently desires some validation for the condition of the tooth, and has a Freudian slip of feminism with her capitalization of "Girl"? 

The Tooth Fairy did not write back, but he did leave the blossom from a Bleeding Heart flower plant (just like the one in our back yard), and Baylor reported excitedly the next morning that her request was fulfilled. 

Both Ramona and Hermonione win today! 

Confident Uncertainty

More from Father Rohr:

"I don’t think the important thing is to be certain about answers nearly as much as being serious about the questions. When we hold spiritual questions, we meet and reckon with our contradictions, with our own dilemmas; and we invariably arrive at a turning point where we either evade God or meet God. Mere answers close down the necessary struggle too quickly, too glibly, and too easily.   .  .  . we are taught best at the intersection of order and disorder  .  .  .   All real transformation of persons takes place when we’re inside of such .  .  . space—with plenty of questions that are open to God and grace and growth." (Sunday's Rohr post 8/26/12; excerpted; italics by S. Cluver)

I'm Ba-aaack!

Yup, I know -- I've not posted since JUNE!  Well, life's been happenin' -- grad class for me, knee surgery for Chad, and all the "normal stuff" like basketball, baseball, softball, tutoring, room remodels, building a tree house, road trips to see extended family in far-away states.  I really didn't think anyone would notice my absence from the blogosphere, but much to my suprised delight, a few people did, indeed, click in while I was AWOL.  Who knew?  Now, I do.  Thanks for caring about us, Cluver folk, enough to peek in on us every once in awhile ; )

Well, let's see, Bay's birthday was in March (prior to my last post in June), but due to an even worse delay in the uploading photography world, we need to catch up on that  .  .  .

Before you go completely cross-eyed counting candles, she's 9.

And the annual "sit on the couch with all your gifts."

A random tack-on -- evidence of Bay's serious play with her toys, which is always a favorite of mine. 

Apparently, this doll had fallen ill  .  .  .

Okay, so possibly funnier and less, uh, creepy in real life. 

Next, on to Easter  .  .  .

Eggs, and Beans, and Squirrels

Due to Anna and Jameson's Rite of Christian Initiation for Children (Baptism and First Communion at the Easter Vigil mass), we are at our own home for Easter this year. 

It began with an early Easter egg hunt of what Chad thought were 80 total colored, plastic eggs -- 12 filled with quarters, the rest with Jelly Bellies  .  .  .  until all four kids were on a quest for the last one.  Chad had perched precariously a white egg in the fork of a small branch -- out on end where the white Dogwood blossoms glowed.  In the quest, the kids continued to find more and more eggs beyond the 80, and it became a great deal of fun as the disbelief mounted. 

THEN, Bay looked up into one of the huge, old trees and pointed to what she thought was an orange Easter egg.  Chad hauled out a ladder to inspect what I thought must have been a puffball fungus or some odd bulge of sap (something gross); yet, sure enough, Bay was dead on target.  An orange egg, still full of candies, and with marks on one end from what were obviously tiny, sharp teeth.  My only disappointment was contemplating how much more fun it would have been to have witnessed that squirrel bringing home that treasure and placing it for what she thought was safe-keeping.  Boy, she's going to be ticked. 

Oh, the mild weather, the green, green grass, leaves and blooms popping out of branches.  LOVE the lightness of this season!

And, of course, then we have to do the vinegar and Paas' colored tabs in coffee cups to create the rainbow of protein for Easter morning breakfast.  Two dozen dipped spoons later, and done.  Seeing the shells take on the colors of lime green, deep coral, and even basics like blue or yellow -- never really gets old.

Saturday is the big Baptism, First Communion, and spiritual celebration of Easter, and we began with a brunch of Easter egg braided bread (a First Communion tradition for our kids), fruit salad, peppered bacon and cheddar quiche, and (at Anna's request) hot cocoa.  (Pre-primping; notice the sleepy faces.)  We gave to the kids their celebration gifts from Chad and I: a Willow Tree angel each, a generations' old family rosary each, and saint-themed gifts (a new yoga DVD for Anna in the spirit of Saint Alphonsa, "Little Anna," of Kerala, India, and a new Dr. Seuss book for Jameson to practice reading with the education connection to the namesake of my alma mater -- St. Thomas Aquinas).

We dined on picnic fair in the church hall with our families for supper, and then, proceeded to the 7:30pm 2-hour Easter vigil service.  The soulful and spirited alto "Ay-ay-men!" couresty Miss Sara was moving, the flowers and candles gorgeous, and the evening an overall joyful success.

We concluded the eve with cheesecake and coffee back at our house for a relaxed visit with the kids' Godparents -- dear, dear family friends, Colleen and Dana Dale.

And the next day, the kids found treats left for them by what we think (based partially on shopping mall observations) to be a human-sized, bipedal, mute, white rabbit who gets into children's houses undetected, at night, while the kids sleep.  Hmm  .  .  .

More of My Favorite Rohr

"If we want to go to the mature, mystical, and non-dual levels of spirituality, we must first deal with the often faulty, inadequate, and even toxic images of God that most people are dealing with before they have authentic God experience. Both God as Trinity and Jesus as the “image of the invisible God” reveal a God quite different—and much better—than the Santa Claus image or the “I will torture you if you do not love me” God that most people are still praying to. Such images are an unworkable basis for any real spirituality  .  .  .  Trinity reveals that God is the Divine Flow under, around, and through all things—much more a verb than a noun; relationship itself rather than an old man sitting on a throne  .  .  .  " 

--Excerpted from Father Richard Rohr 6/25/12

Overheard at the Cluver Abode

"You should allll-ways have refreshments when you're watching movies," declares Baylor, as she and Anna take respite in the air conditioned living room with bags of popcorn to watch the "Evan Almighty" DVD they checked out from the library.

Well, now, there we have eternal wisdom to carry us forward in our lives.

Lights . . .

The kids are old enough to venture around the free rides area of the Forsyth Family Fest while I hold station in the shade of the pavillion.

Being honored as grand marshalls of the parade was a fun time -- complete with a horse-drawn carriage to haul our crew.  (Thank you, Forsyth!)

Evening fireworks which we viewed from just 3 blocks from our home, in a spot that was visited by only our family and one (1!) other family, and the breeze was blowing -- no mosquitos!  Relaxing  .  .  .  Ahhhh.

A daughter's style sense is progressing nicely, and her growing confidence is shining through.

Mocha Cookie Crumble Frappacino (or whatever it's called?) at Starbucks.  It's coffee.  It's chocolate.  To-tal-ly satisfying.  Topped with CHOCOLATE whipped cream.  Delectable.

New fort-playset-to-connect-to-new-treehouse is moving along .  .  .  and the boys are having a time working on it together.

Z's zumba is kicking my petootee -- and that's good, very, very good for my health.  I need someone to push me, to exercise at all!

My son, who's choice of fuel is jelly beans, won a jelly-bean guessing contest at the library.  Yep, he won a jar of 557 colorful beans of gel  .  .  .  His guess was only 7 off.  The man knows his candy!

Choxie dessert truffles on the end-cap clearance spot at Target -- one box for Chad and one box for moi!  Yay, us.

Lean Cuisine Linguini Carbonara.  Peas, bacon, cream sauce, basil, red peppers.  Super yummy and sort of balances the chocolate.

My $3 reading glasses from Wal-mart have worked thus far to prevent ANY headache even after 2 days of nearly endless reading.  Yay, me, some more.

More from Rohr

Excerpted from Father Richard Rohr's 6/17/12 post:

"I can’t believe that God expects every human being to start from zero and to reinvent the wheel of life in their own small lifetime. We must build on the common 'communion of saints' throughout the ages. This is the inherited fruit and gift which is sometimes called the Wisdom Tradition. It is not always inherited simply by belonging to one group or religion. It largely depends on how informed, mature, and experienced your particular teachers are  .  .  .  (growing) from "my religion which has the whole truth" to "universal wisdom which my religion teaches in this way.” If it is true, then it has to be true everywhere.

  .  .  .  collective and common wisdom .  .  .  keeps recurring in different religions and with different metaphors. But the foundational wisdom is usually the same  .  .  ."

Flies

Damn.  It died.

Monkey Saves a Bird

As I'm in the middle of three tasks -- reading (procrastinating) to prep for my class that begins Monday, hauling to the basement organized tubs of toy overflow from the soon-to-be-rearranged girls' rooms, and rotating laundry through machines, Hunter interrupts task-master, cranky mom insistently, "Mom, there's a hurt bird."  He will have my attention -- it's in his voice, on his face, and planted firmly in his stance upon the basement stairs.  My little monkey, funny man, diplomat, gentle caretaker, has an outward disposition that belies his ability to step up and stand firm.  And today he will protect this bird. 

He guards the fledgling from the family dog, Bogey, while I call the vet and then the Raptor Center for guidance.  I leave a message and follow the instructions to check their website.  After relaying to Hunter that this bird is going through it's normal process of plopping to the ground while trying to fly and will hop around for some days as it grows more feathers and finds things to eat, I am challenged by my little man that the bird's left leg is injured; he can hear it "crackling." 

He buys my collaborative argument that we don't know if the bird is injured or not, that he isn't a bird expert and doesn't really know, and that it is best that we not touch the bird to find out.  With clear direction, Hunter gets to work posting a sign on the inside of the mudroom door as reminder to all not to let the dog into the yard unattended, and another note on the door from the garage to the yard for Dad to notice the bird so as not to create a calamitous accident when continuing work on the tree house construction.

Now, I just pray to God that this thing begins to move around the yard, toward a shrub, as it should.  If it is, indeed, healthy, then we will not be able to know how it is doing after today, because it will be adept at moving around undetected.  Hunter could at least, then, hope the best has happened for his vulnerable underling.