I Could've Been Cleaning

Here's a confession:  I really don't like the beach.  In theory, it's wonderful:  sun on the skin, sand in the toes, salt water's good for what ails ya, right?  In reality, it's hot.  With a crawling baby, it means sand in everything.  And salt water means everyone needs a shower (not such an easy task with 3 little squid along).

Fortunately, we have access to the same beach The Papa played on as a child.  So long as our timing is right for low tide, we can play in the sand and saltwater of the channel with enough boat wake to make it fun (and occasionally scary), a toilet just upstairs, and an outdoor shower with warm water.  I joke that it's our own private yacht club.  It's crazy to live so close to that and not take advantage of it, right?

I decided Monday evening that we were going to take advantage of it, and we were going to take advantage of it the very next morning.  I didn't, however, prepare very well the night before so I was a mess (to put it mildly) Tuesday morning trying to get everything together.  The whole time I was scurrying around, all I could think was, "I could just stay home and clean up this mess."

When we got to the sound, though, and got everything in the sand and the saltwater, all I could think was, "But I would've missed this."

Hard at work making a baby pool!

This little imp had just offered me a hug.  A wet, sandy hug.
Sweet, huh?

JayBird found 3 hermit crabs that day.  I scored a baby blue crab.

Strangely, we couldn't even get close to the schools of fish.

On the way home, we stopped by "Touch Tank Tuesday" at the NC Coastal Federation office.  It's always so interesting to see what the staff collected from the local waters.  This day's most interesting specimen was a pregnant blue crab.  Want to know how to tell if a crab is pregnant?  Check her belly.

This isn't the best photo, but the egg sack looked much like a sponge.  Reportedly, it also feels like a sponge.
That's about 2 milllllllllllion eggs.

And to think.....I could've been cleaning.

Out of the Chrysalis!

This post is really about a caterpillar, but it's an appropriate time and analogy for my getting back to recording our family's memories.  Much of what happens while a larva pupates is still a mystery, as is where the time has gone since my last post over at Memories on Maplechase.  At any rate, "Forward, March!"

Back in September (2015), I saw a post from an acquaintance offering Eastern Black Swallowtail caterpillars.  "How fun and educational it would be for the kids to see metamorphosis first-hand!" I thought.  And so one morning we became the proud keepers of two beautiful caterpillars.  We did a little research and made a cozy home for Winter and Hope.

That's just Winter.  We took Hope to school, but she "stopped eating" over the long Labor Day weekend.

Naturally, we had planned to spend the Labor Day weekend four hours away from home with friends.  I say "naturally" because that's the way things seem to go:  almost never at a convenient time.  See, caterpillars eat a lot.  And often.  They really can't be left in a gallon-sized glass jar for four days.  So, we either find a 'pillar-sitter, or we take her with us.  And since we didn't have time to properly screen a sitter, we had no choice but to take her with us.  It was ok since we still had six square inches of empty space in our van.

We arrived safely at our destination and situated Winter in the gazebo overlooking the lake.  It was a beautiful view for a caterpillar.  On our second day, The Mamas of the group went into the city for an over-night, and while we were away, The Papa got to witness Winter shedding her little legs and curling up into her chrysalis!  He said it happened very quickly.  We were very proud of her.

We brought her home, and a couple of weeks later while on the screened porch, I turned to notice something moving inside the jar.  It was.....startling, to say the least, to find such a beauty!

Thank heavens we had friends here to help us figure out what to do.  Seems simple, huh, just to let her out.  Well, it was very exciting, and sometimes emotions take over.

What could be better than this?

I was so happy that she crawled right onto The Girl's arm.  We couldn't have planned it any better than that.  She put her arm near a potted plant where the butterfly rested, and after a few minutes, Winter flew onto the roof of the neighbor's house.  Watching Winter was such a magical time, and she will hold a place in our hearts forever.

And, by the way, Winter was a male.  ;)

There's Nothing You Can Do

I've never been much for television.  And when The Girl came along, that didn't change.  We would spend our days at home in the relative quiet that can exist with one child and her mother going about the business of living.  From time to time, however, I would turn on the television to check the news; to see what was happening in the world.

It was October, and one afternoon I did just that.  I remember being so startled and saddened to learn that 33 Chilean miners had been trapped below the earth for 69 days.  I don't think I'll ever forget those numbers.  When I worked in the mortgage business, I was on top of the news.  I knew what the Fed was planning to do.  I knew which politicians supported which interests.  I knew what governments were doing in other countries and how that would likely affect my customers and my pocketbook.

But here I was, voluntarily trapped in my own cave.  So shocked to learn that others had been holding their proverbial breaths while rescue efforts persevered for months.  The Girl was about a month shy of 1 year.  I remember telling a man, a family friend, how awful I felt to have been so oblivious to the world.

My little cave

He said to me, "There's nothing you can do.  You're in your little house changing diapers and nursing a baby."  He went on with a few other thoughts, likely to try to make me feel better, but those words were piercing.  I have heard those words, his voice, so many times.  "There's nothing you can do."  "There's nothing you can do."  "There's nothing you can do."

So much nursing....

So many diapers....

I'm not really sure why, but that just doesn't sit with me.  I have always had a very hopeful spirit.  Maybe it's because I always had so many opportunities to help others.  When you're doing something to help others, it's easy to see that there's something you can do.  When I went away to college, I felt the most hopeful.  So many opportunities to help others, but there were also so many people helping others.  And not just people helping others, but so many stories of people helping others.  Locally, and around the world.  Stories from peers, and stories in books.  Stories of helping people in need, and stories of helping people avoid need.

And then I got wrapped up in the working world.  Not really paying much attention to the needs of others or what I could about it.  I still did plenty of volunteer work and was involved in civic organizations that helped others, but I was primarily focused on work (and a little play).

Soon enough I found myself consumed by the demands of a new life and the planted idea that "(t)here (was) nothing (I could) do."

Until a few weeks ago.  I slammed my fist down on the recording that said, "There's nothing you can do."  Picture me laughing maniacally and yelling, "I AM DOING SOMETHING! I. AM. DOING. LOTS. OF. THINGS!"  See, in this little house, I'm rearing children who will go into the world and do things.  And I'm rearing them (hopefully) to want to do it.

The way I see it, though, is that I don't have to do anything to make them want to do things.  I just have to stay out of the way and keep from crushing the spirit they already have.

Fly, little bird!

Never before have I been more hopeful.  When I hear the things these children say, when I see the things they do, it feeds my hope.  I'm writing this at a time in our country when some people are saying, "I'm scared for the world my children are growing up in." Perhaps I live in a bubble, but if living in a house with children doesn't make a person the most hopeful ever, what else could?

These little lights of mine, I'm gonna let 'em shine....

Yes.  There are hateful people in the world.  Yes.  There is evil in the world.  Always has been.  Always will be.  But you know what else?  There are really wonderful people in the world, and there is good in the world.  And I choose to believe that there is more good than bad.  And I'm going to do my part to keep it that way.

Peace, Friends.  And, hey, stay out of the way of people who are doing things.