Random October-ness

We once again bought an annual pass to a butterfly place (thanks, Groupon).

Here's hoping we use it more than once this time.

Kaden came home with the following 3 scratches/cuts on his face.  He told me that he was tickling a friend while they were getting a drink at the water fountain, and his friend fell and he fell and hit his face on the water fountain.  But it didn't hurt.  Later, he told my mom his friend pushed him at the water fountain and he hit his face on the step- but it didn't hurt.  Still later, when a lil' friend asked him :"hat happened to your face", Kaden said "I don't know."

This was on Wednesday, and the photo is from Friday. I took it after I called the daycare and asked 1) did anyone know what actually happened and 2) why didn't I get an incident report?    The woman in charge is new- she didn't actually remember/know who my son was, nor did she know what happened as she "wasn't on the day crew."  I used to work at a daycare, so I get this, but still:  would you be upset at this?  BTW, later I asked Kaden if he told the teacher about getting hurt and he said, no it was a secret.  So we had another chat about the importance of NOT keeping secrets from teachers or parents.  But I think 4 yr old boys who wear superhero shirts are starting to have more influence than I am.  Sigh.  It's almost enough for me to quit working right now.

And the pic above is a random fireman.  We were at a school gym one weekend, to see a friend in a karate tournament, when the fire alarm went off.  Someone checked and assured us it wasn't a real fire, but since I remembered the recent station visit (where we learned that it takes less than 5 minutes between "fire starting" and "house-consumed-and-everyone-dies", I talked our boys into a stroll outside to look for the fire trucks.  And then they showed up!  Very calm but quick, grabbing axes and shrugging into oxygen tanks.  The driver stayed near the truck, and let Kaden go in to explore a bit.

I love this philosopher pumpkin photo.  Not scripted (exactly).  I also love the avocado peeking out, just to the right of kaden's hat.  Well, that and the palm tree.  We've actually gone to this church "pumpkin patch" for many years-- but I can't find the other pics of Kaden as a wee one next to the orange globes right now :)



Yet Another Fire Station Visit

Our city had a special "visit the firehouse" kind of day recently.   The places were CLEAN (nice going, fireguys and gals) and they had all sorts of vehicles and equipment on display. 

Look closely below, and you'll see a junior firefighter driving the truck.

We had a "tour guide" for a little bit- first a volunteer and then a fireman nicknamed Scout.  But after the usual tour, with our boy still enthralled and interested, they just sorta let us roam around a bit (!).

Which is how Kaden figured out the built in truck steps on engine 9 below, and started climbing.  He was a little miffed we wouldn't let him go on the top of the engine.

They also had these awesome ATV type vehicles. Kaden jumped in, flipped the key and a switch and wa-la: lights and sirens went off. All in less than 20 seconds. No, I'm not kidding.   In another rescue pickup truck, he actually called someone on the CB- which Scout deftly turned into a siren test call (they were expecting those all day).

I think the firefolk were pretty lenient with him because he was decked out in full fireman gear. He had a fire truck shirt on (thanks Grandma), a firefighter jacket (thanks, Annette) and fireman boots (thanks Nana).  The volunteers and firefighters kept saying things like, "oh, he's ready to go if we get called" and "hey, we've got a new recruit"  

Kaden seemed to like spraying the water hose the best.  He did it three different times.  The first time, the Chief had visited and was driving away-- Scout and Kaden adjusted the water and hit the Chief's truck.  Niiiice.   The second time, Scout showed him how to change the water spray from a stream to a fan.  The third time, Kaden had picked up the hose and turned it on  before Scout was near him.  Basically, the firefighter was just holding the hose while Kaden worked the water.  Seriously.

Later, when we colored a page for a thank you, I asked Kaden what were we thanking them for (thank you fireguys for letting me in your house) and what he liked best (spraying the Chief's truck.  And driving the truck.).    Good times.

No Words.

I've started this post 1,000 times over the past 2 and a half weeks.  There's no good way to tell it.  If you're not in the mood for sadness, you've got to move to another post or blog.

Because there really are no words that adequately explain how my pregnant sister in law could be induced a week after her due date, and not go home with a babe.   What was God thinking?  Eden Hope was born, and for a few minutes the family rejoiced... and then the medical folks said something about her not being pink enough.  I can't even write out the details, so I'll give you the facts (in a much more direct manner than the 6 hour ordeal unfolded).  It turns out that our neice had a rare lung disorder, where the lungs look okay on ultrasounds- but aren't formed.  There's nothing to be done.  And so she came, and six agonizing hours later, she went back home.

There are no words.  Plenty of tears, but no words.  

You know the saying, a picture is worth a thousand words?   I have two images in my head from our recent visit.   Her parents showed us a few pictures- imagine the standard 'newborn baby with the family in a hospital' - mom holding baby, dads arms around them both.  Or grandparents looking down at the tiny one.  But in all of these, our babe doesn't have a healthy pink color, and no one is smiling.  Not even close- you can see everyone's heartache on their faces.  It is the saddest, surrealist thing I've ever seen.

Jim had made it up for the funeral (it's his brother who's the dad).   The uncles were pallbearers, and all he could say to me after was, "The coffin was so tiny, it weighed *nothing*."  Later, he'd just repeat himself, "it weighed nothing."  A few days later, he told me, "There shouldn't be something made so small."  I knew what he meant, but the reality of the tragedy hit me when we visited her grave last week.  The fresh mound of dirt was... so tiny.  So small.  There shouldn't be a need for a grave that barely fits two flower arrangements.

Even now as I type, I know that I could write another thousand pages, and there would be no words that capture this.  No words that would ease her parent's suffering.  No words that would explain the mystery to her siblings or cousins.  No words to calm the dragons of doubt, the "if only" saboteurs.

Perhaps her name can be the only word that gets the family through this darkness:  Eden Hope.  Once, God revealed the Divine Self as "I am who am" - a name that makes no sense.   And when the angels announced the Messiah, they named him Emmanuel, "God with us."  There is no theology that can make sense of how a loving God allows such tragedy.  But perhaps we can find Hope in the Presence of God, revealed in so many ways by so many people "with us".  Perhaps those names- Hope, Presence- are the only words that matter.