not what I was expecting

While making dinner, I heard Liam calling to me from the basement. I was in the middle of sauteing and called to him that he'd have to wait. He continued to call and the pleas become more and more urgent. By the fifth or sixth call he was screaming. I panicked, thinking a bookcase had fallen on him or he was dodging a rabid bat (which we have had in this house before). So I quickly stopped what I was doing and ran downstairs.

At the bottom of the stairs, Liam was sitting in a pile of my old Barbie stuff. With tears in his eyes, he held up a naked Barbie and a little red bathing suit.

"Help me!" he cried. "I can't get this Barbie dressed."

belated and beloved

It doesn't look like much, but don't be fooled. If you love lemon, this cake rocks. While Andrew was out of the country, I happily dreamt-ate my way through The Homemade Life: Stories and Recipes from My Kitchen Table by Molly Wizenberg. This amazing French-Style Yogurt Cake with Lemon was the cake that started the romance that led to her marriage. She posted the recipe on her blog and some cute, food-loving, compatible, francophile emailed her and the rest is history. I l-o-v-e stories like that. Probably because mine is similar. The most unlikely union and the most fated. Like this lemon cake, irresistible.

Anyway, I made it in celebration of Andrew's birthday (lemon is his favorite), which we missed because he was gone in Lithuania. We are all so glad he's back, cake notwithstanding. Elliott even seemed to change overnight. Today he walked everywhere, talked up a storm - including new words we could understand, like "downstairs" - and smiled ceaselessly. I think he really missed his dad.


He and Liam happily donned their Lithuanian viking hats. Not sure about the historical connection, but there must be one because Andrew felt awfully at home there. He describes Lithuania as all the best things about Italy and none of the bad (of which, after living there for a dozen years, he can cite many). Their group (six in all) stayed in a compound supposedly run by Russian mobsters - nice clean room with full breakfast for $10/night. Lights out and locked in by midnight or they were out of luck. Apparently this was the best show in town.

But something about the place - the people, the values, the countryside, and especially the kids - got under his skin. My husband is hooked and his vision is growing. I will not be surprised if we are all packing our bags for some far-off land someday, to spread love, good news, and, of course, music. Not such an unlikely union afterall. Lemon cake, orphans and adventure: By golly, I think we were made for each other.

those random moments that make me proud, make me laugh and make me scream

:: this morning :: Liam happily and patiently wrote the titles of the books we read this week on his summer reading club list. It makes me all misty-eyed to watch him learn to read and write.


:: this afternoon :: During a walk around the neighborhood, Liam called to me to catch up. "Mom!" he shouted. "You have to see these two things I found. I think they came from outer space!"


:: this evening :: While I was giving Elliott a bath, Liam was drawing, on paper so I thought. He was, in fact, transforming into a superhero he told me later, after I, yes, screamed, because, yes, all four limbs were equally tattooed. And the genius snapped his own photos. Gotta love it.

in Lithuania

Andrew posted this video of his first day at the orphanage in Taurage. I cried because it reminded me how much we have to give to others, how much more we need to do it, how truly blessed we are, and how compassionate and beautiful my husband is (even as a stubborn, outspoken Brit). I really hope you watch it, too.



If you have trouble loading this video here, try watching on the YouTube page instead.

not so good at that

Andrew left yesterday for Lithuania - twelve days hanging with kids at an orphanage our church supports over there. He plans to tousle them up, shower them with love and teach them the finer points of guitar shredding, or at least play for them a little. I am so proud of him for stepping up and volunteering for the trip. And we're fine here - PB&J and banana splits every night. Can't beat that.

Today we hit the farmer's market, the library and the annual Riverfest, had a picnic lunch in the park and played Legos. I'd say that's worthy of mother of the year award.

The real telling moment, though, was when Liam took his 30 minutes video game time. After 5 minutes he called me and said he needed me. (I was washing the kitchen floor. Seriously. For the first time in three months.)

"Mom," he said. "I need to get ten points. Can you do it for me. Please?"

Now, we are not all newfangled with the WII. Our Nintendo system is so old the library doesn't even carry games for it. This was some Star Wars game where you have to fly your ship over these islands and swoop in and shoot down all the enemy convoys - with a 20 button joystick. I am all into equal opportunity, but this is really a boy thing. Still, I took the controls and said I'd give it a try.

After Liam patiently explained to me what all the buttons controlled, I hit the start and immediately nose dived into the ocean, blowing my ship to fiery bits.

"Oh, mom!" Liam cried. "You have to look where you're going."

Hmm. Yeah. Okay. Next start. To avoid the crash and burn, I forced the fighter straight up. After watching clouds soar by for a few seconds, Liam sighed.

"You aren't going to get any bad guys that way."

So, I jiggled the controls around and promptly smashed into a cliff. Firing my guns all the way.

I glanced over at Liam who was shaking his head. Then he looked at me, held out his hand and sighed.

"Mom, you better give that to me," he said. "You're not very good at this."

Although I know Andrew would have adeptly blasted each and every enemy convoy, I am proud to report that Liam did the job himself. After watching his mom play he must have figured he was good at the game after all.

a beautiful gift for a beautiful person

My dear neighbor Allison is moving to Colorado. Although their move has been in the works for months and the moving van already packed them up, it didn't really sink in until last night that this friend is going to be gone in just a couple of days. Another neighbor proposed the idea of creating a collaborative quilt for Allison and 23 book club friends and neighbors - many who had never sewn a single stitch - created a square to incorporate into the final product. My camera was out of batteries as Allison opened the quilt so I only could snap this one mediocre shot. It's a stunning work of art - and a great tribute to how beautiful and loved this one woman is.


I spent a long time thinking about what I wanted to do for my square. My main goal was to make it as beautiful and happy as possible because that is how Allison makes people feel. It is her special gift. She always has a smile and a hug and an ability to make you feel like she is incredibly happy to see you anytime you walk by or get together. She is also a fabulous gardener. I look forward to seeing her poppies bloom every spring. I thought this Proust quote summed her up well: Let us be grateful to the people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.

I will miss her so much.

making our bed

So, we have these worms living in our basement. They eat our garbage and make us dirt. It sounds a little weird, maybe even kind of gross, if you feel that way about worms. But, truly, it's pretty incredible. For about 8 months (longer than is recommended) we fed our red wigglers carrot tops, banana peels, apple cores and egg shells and, in return, they (in Liam's words) pooped us out about ten gallons of rich, nourishing dirt.


We probably didn't follow the best technique for sifting the worms from the dirt, as it took a very long time. We're definitely going to look into that for the next go around. Speaking of which, these worms are big time reproducers. We have enough red wigglers now for another 20 gallon bin that will need a home. Any takers?


The best part about keeping dirt-making worms is getting to use said dirt to fertilize our own little veggie garden. Memorial Day weekend we built and planted a raised bed.


Every time I plant a seed it seems absolutely impossible that anything would sprout from it. Now that Liam's involved, it feels like a little more is at stake. I am hoping at least one veggie will grow. The worm dirt should insure at least that. If nothing else, we have some awfully cute little markers.

green market

We've been anticipating this day for weeks - the first day of the Geneva Green Market. Especially the berries.


And the fun things for kids, like roosters.


And drawing roosters.


But the biggest development this season is that we're taking two bikes instead of one.


Elliott very happily rides with me.


And Liam rides all by himself. More than three miles round trip. Along the river trail. His proud mama smiling right behind him.

about a boy

Yesterday we finally had our appointment with the neurologist to see if there might be a medical reason why Elliott is delayed in his walking. I expected to hear things like delay, physical therapy, catch up in no time. Instead, we were thrown words like developmental disorder, autism, genetic testing. I used to think labels like these would devastate me. But that was long before I knew the boy they were referring to.

The jury is still out on whether or not Elliott has a nameable problem, if there is a medical issue behind his struggle to walk, to identify his body parts, to ask for the things he wants. But 24 hours later I am left with this one important fact: He is still the same boy he was the day before. This boy is far more than the sum of his parts. No matter what any test shows or doctor tells us, he is brimming with potential. He is capable and teachable. Above all, he is lovable. Infinitely lovable.

I have been awed by the things my friend Liita has taught her son Nathan, a smart, kind, beautiful boy who just happens to have Down Syndrome. Every time I read this post about his amazing development, including how he could identify and name every letter of the alphabet at age 2 and a half (a seeming impossibility for a child with Down Syndrome), I get a lump in my throat.

I also have been moved by the perspective of Paul Collins and Jennifer Elder, whose son Morgan was diagnosed with autism. Their interview with Krista Tippett deeply impressed me long before "autism" ever became part of our vocabulary.

Because here's the thing: Medical science, as wonderful as it is, can never measure what a child is capable of, especially if this child has parents who believe in the impossible. And society can never dictate what is good and true and normal.

The story of Elliott is about a boy. A smart, funny, happy, loving, beautiful boy. And no matter what label he ultimately gets slapped with, nothing will change that.