We’re at the kitchen table, eating breakfast. Rose’s face clouds with panic.
“I forgot about the four squares of chocolate!”
She clanks down her oatmeal spoon, zooms her eyes into their widest setting.
“Four squares of chocolate?” I ask, buying time, always buying time. Repeat...
Rachel Turiel can be reached at
sanjuandrive@frontier.net or check out her blog about raising children, chickens and backyard food at 6,512 feet:
6512andgrowing.wordpress.com
recent Adventures in Motherhood
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There’s a house finch singing outside our window, sounding like the very ambassador to spring. Sometimes she says, “Holy holy spring, kneel down and kiss this earth.” Other times, it’s “Get your heiney out of bed and water the 3,000 seeds you planted last week, woman.”
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Recently, I asked Col, Rose and their friend Kiva what children need most.
“Love,” Col said. “Yup, love,” Kiva agreed. “Love!” Rose shouted.
OK. Well, whew. That’s the easy part, loving our children. It’s like how your fingernails grow without any forethought or panicked...
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My children are cleaning up the daily trail of toys that expand from their shared room like some explorers’ route of conquest, like say, the Midday Takeover of the Living Room.
“Do you want this Silly Putty?” Rose asks her brother.
“Naw, just kick it under the couch and when we’re roaming around later, we’ll find it,” he says.
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After 10 days in Costa Rica, we’re back in the Northern Hemisphere, in winter, in the First World, where children don’t ride bikes home from school on the highway shoulder, helmet- and adult-less. Also, where you don’t need a flashlight walking barefoot to the bathroom at night because of the scorpions. And where fresh local fruit is no longer an...
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Sometimes, raising children feels a little like how I imagine life was for the pioneers of the westward expansion. You know, how they were basically traversing an unknown continent based on anecdotal accounts, feverish dreams and maps titled: “choose your own adventure.”
