Combatting Insomnia

UPDATE: These things helped, but most of all, what is helping is wearing earplugs (30 db, the orange foam ones you can twist in with the little blue handle, from walmart, a big pack for $5). It helps me sleep much better, getting 7 hrs, roughly 11pm to 6am.  And *always keeping the same schedule*, getting ready for bed when the sleepiness starts {10:30}, never pushing through to the "2nd wind", that really messes me up. And getting some exercise in.

 Struggling with Insomnia since fall 2023.

Underlying conditions...trauma? hormones? sublimated grief? perimemopause after uterine loss?

Things to try

Routine is everything. Build in the circadian rhythm. Work with your natural rhythm.

• Non-negotiable bedtime. Must be 8 hours in bed. (So working backwards from my inevitable 6am wake up, I need to be in bed at 10pm.)
• I need to go out in the morning sunlight. Melatonin levels

Build in the wind-down time. There are things you want to do. Find a time for it and work it in, so you are not tempted to stay up at night to do them.

• Downtime, to write
• Downtime, to pray, Bible, Journal
• Time to have that happy rocking and chatting time with the girls
• Time to talk to Josh (!) or I end up doing soliliquies at 11pm....

Prepare ahead of time, so you aren't dog-tired pushing yourself to get things done and then you realize you need to do these things before bed, and then kick off another wake cycle and climb into bed awake, having sacrificed the sleepy wave to try to rush to do them all.

• AHEAD OF TIME do these things
• Jammies Brush Teeth
• Check the washing machine, 
• putaway food, brush my teeth, EARLIER so I don't suddenly realize

Sleep Conducive environment---Clean Quiet Dark Room.

• Socks
• Warm blankets. Cool head.
• White noise
• Earplugs
• Black out curtains
• Make the kids be quiet before 7am.

When you do wake up, salt lamp light. Prayer.

• No screens during insomnia night. No bright lights.
•  If you have ideas, write them down in a journal by salt-lamp. 
• Read the Bible by salt lamp. 
• Have a prayer-journal by salt-lamp.

Exercise. My ancestors got a ton more exercise than I do. [drawing water from teh well, kids on their backs, farming with hand tools, etc] If that was the norm for millenia, it is highly unlikely that there's no connection between the sudden rise in insomnia and the sudden lack of physical exercise.

• 20 min of cardio, every day, on the treadmill, breathing through my nose
• Strength training
• Try to work outside [gardening etc] at dawn, a little every day

Genius Aliens using social engineering to teach humans the One Thing

 If I awoke with my mind wiped of all memories, to sit and watch humanity on a million secret CCTV's, I think I would conclude that the human race had been either modified or created by aliens running a vast social experiment, with a single goal.

We start out, excited about life, wanting warmth and sustenance and our mothers to cuddle and sustain us as our mammalian biology dictates. We scream demanding sweet calories from our mothers carbohydrate rich milk. And we get it. And we grunt in satisfaction, guzzling the deliciousness as fast as we can.

We grow, mature, and are suddenly really really good-looking. Beautiful, infact. Like the best looking we'll ever be in our lives, though we don't realize that yet..... 

And raging full of hormones. And we are suddenly very attracted to the opposite sex, and want to do this thing that gives us a huge hormonal high. A literal drug trip in our brains. But free. And not bad for us. 

And when we engage in this activity with someone, our brain dopes us up on oxytocin, which we have receptors for, which makes us 'bond' to that specific person. [monogamous voles have these oxytocin receptors. When they disabled them in their brains, the voles then behaved polyamorously like other species. Humans have these oxytocin receptors]

A person we have picked out for a various handful of perhaps subconscious but logical reasons that makes them stand out to us. Beauty or wit or making those hilarious jokes or geeking out about our favorite books together. Some personal infatuation algorithm we have that tries to calculate how to maximize our future happiness.

And then, the sexual-desire hormone, testosterone, which is super abundant in males, spikes precipitously in females...once a month...right on that little window of fertility. So when she suddenly when its the hardest to resist.....now....

BAM.

Now there is a baby.

And the baby comes out screaming for sustenance, and a womans breasts suddenly fill up PAINFULLY like they're going to burst, and the little desperate creature is the best at relieving this. And while she is doing this, then that oxytocin is released in her brain, as she holds this little mammal to her....the bonding chemical kicks in again.

And then, as the sleep deprivation subside, her hormones resume....and then even if she is trying to avoid this whole thing happening again (labor transition pain is after all not easily forgotten) well, the the testosterone spikes again at a critical moment, and her man is suddenly irresistible....

Source: https://xkcd.com/674/

And then there are more little people. And more. And more. And they are so darn cute, as we have been mentally programmed to find our offspring. 

And they grow and grow.

And then....they turn into obnoxious teenagers who point out all our problems and our hypocrisy, with a nice dash of ungrateful and cutting insight into our psyches.

But at this point, we've sunk way too many sleepless nights and free housing and emotional energy into these obnoxious little punks, so we still want them to come home for holidays and blow out candles together.

And all the while our beauty fades and fades away....we sadly see some of those things that attracted us when we were young, to that person we have oxytocin-bonded too, fade away. It fades away in both of us.

And our health, our strength, our taste, our vigor, our ability to climb mountains and taste maple-syrup, all the things that made life fun, fade away....

And finally, even our mental capabilities fade away....

And we are a shell of our former gifts, old, wrinkled, bent, fat, and finally, stupid.....

And all that's left, is the soul. 

The choice to love, that all began, for very calculated and logical reasons, to maximize our happiness..... in the end, remains when all the reasons are taken away. Illogical, but there. 

....and we realize....as everything fades away......

                                           .........that we have finally learned to love. 

*************

This song says it better than I ever could

Combatting Allergies: my thoughts at 4 am with inflamed sinuses....

 Root Causes: Immune system is funky. Off kilter. Over-reacting. Jumpy. Touchy. Just plain weird.

Symptoms: 

• nasal congestion at night. It feels like my body is actually producing more mucous as soon as I lie down,
• The "swelling feeling" in my sinuses when I lie down to sleep [sometimes with the 'popping' sound like a creaking wood ship, can feel it many successive pop pops. Sometimes squeaks.[hear inside my head, like that awful poprock candy]
• Vicious [cycle?] of only being able to sleep 3 hr chunks, often up for 1 hr between chunks. Getting only 6ish hours total of sleep a night. 
•  Itchy eyes. Tired all the time.

Clues: 

1. Mold in my twin's AC, and that time 3 yrs ago, my AC.
2. Start sneezing a lot around Bermuda grass and cats. But when one allergy worse, all worse. Bc its an immune thing. Allergies seem to piggyback. When one is bad, then everything else gets worse.
3. Josh had bad allergies for 10 yrs. Took cetirizine and levo-cetirizine. Then finally gave up allergy meds, and 70% if his symptoms went away. The pills will help with the flare out, but consistent long term use overall made the problem worse. So in this case, drugging his immune system gave short term relief at the cost of long term symptoms. As if the immune system was 'rebelling' to being drugged, and then net, overcompensating. ?Like moving around in a canoe?
4. When I take allergy medicine [tried 3 kinds] I just feel exhausted and tired when I wake up, despite having supposedly more sleep.
5. ??Always allergies in the Spring, like March, April. When the heat really hits, it recedes. Then comes back in the fall, Oct, Nov?? I remember it being REALLY BAD March and April 2023. Got air filters, felt like I was jsut falling apart. But the allergies weren't even the cause, it felt like even when it went away, I slept poorly. Then it was bad again, in March/April 2024, wasn't sleeping well, so I got all social and invited people over bc I was sorta sleep deprived uninhibited all the time. Fall 2022, we had found mold in the AC unit. [Spring of 2022 I really started noticing my allergies getting worse]. Something to do with AZ wildflower weeds? Am I just allergic to my own house? What is going on?
6. ?Twin in 2020 went on a mostly korean diet, dust mite allergies went away
7. ?Identical twin sister always had mmuch worse allergies than me. Same genetics, same environment, but as if the switch "flipped" earlier. Cat allergies from teenhood. My cat allergies didn't start till 28 yrs old. Used to be able to share a pillow with a cat. Hah.
8. ?I have been sleeping poorly since August 2023. Good nights I get 7 hrs. Maybe 30% of the time. Reverse insomnia, inability to sleep longer than 3.5 hrs. Up middle of the night, alergies, etc. 70% of the time. Inability to 'sleep in'. Last few months, 6 almost solid hrs on a good night. more like 3 + 2/3 hr chunks. Tired throughout the day. Now in Spring of 2025, allergies flaring in April again. Not as bad as last year, but really bad the last week, despite no rain. 

Things that help my allergies: 

• sitting up. 
• Hot tea.  
• ???helps or is just a result? SLEEPING WELL.
• Not being near cats or bermuda grass

Things to try: 

1. Exercise, cardio, every day, while forcing myself to breath through my nose. Need to make my brain get used to that.
2. Boost Immune system with Fruits and Vegs and sunlight. Vitamin C, magnesium etc. Eat lots of fruits and Veg and meat and sauerkraut. Get 20 min of vitamin D sunlight on my skin in the winter. Sit on a bench with my back to the sun during the winter. [wear a hat]
3. KIMCHI every day 
1. We found a significant inverse association between kimchi consumption and the asthma. We believe that this is the first study showing an inverse relationship between kimchi consumption and asthma in adults. Source
4. Yogurt every day
1. A study in the journal Clinical and Experimental Allergy found that people with allergies who consumed Lactobacillus casei, a probiotic found in yogurt, had lower levels of antibodies that respond to allergic reactions
5. Sauerkraut every day. Home-made [live] Sauerkraut every day [why not?] Its white people's kimchi and they've been doing it thousands of years.
6. Try to get good sleep to boost immunse system [hah]. So good sleep schedule. e.g. in bed by 10:15 pm, every night, no matter what. Start the same nightly routine, every night, at 9:45 pm, no matter what. Date night with Josh every week [or 2x/week?], where we talk, so I don't end up doing random talking times late at night. Not Youtube in the evenings. 
7. Go on an evening walk/outside during the golden hour. Be exposed to pollens in a calm relaxed setting. Try to make my warhawk immune system realize the pollen isn't an invader. e.g. "See immune system? These are friends..."
8. Don't use my bed as a couch during the day. [or let kids into my room during the day] Introduces allergens. Get a shorter pew bench in my room, before the bed, to sit on. ?cut off access to the bed with furniture, so kids less likely to play hide n seek on it? Lock up my room during the day as much as possible. Keep it as allergen free as possible. Spend the rest of the day desensitizing  myself to allergens, but make my bedroom as allergen free as possible.
9. Air filter in bedrooms [already doing it, doesn't seem to be doing much] 
10. Clean out my bedroom until its all hard surfaces. No soft surfaces except the bed. 
11. Wash sheets&blankets every WEEK on hot. USE THE HIGH cycle on the dryer for sheets & blankets [kills dust mites]. In the winter, you can just run the blanket on high heat once a week for 10 min, to kill dust mites.  

 Basically its a 3 pronged approach

Boost the Immune system by giving it what it needs, vitamins, gut health, and sleep [strict sleep schedule and exercise]

Exposure therapy in a calm setting. [Outside in the golden hour]

Cleanroom approach to my bedroom. [not the rest of my life. Just here]

Thoughts on Beauty and Clothing as I become an Old Lady

 On the eve of my 37th birthday, I'm thinking about this. 

Hopefully, a little early.*

When we age we are still beautiful. But the beauty changes. Not in the attractive/possibility-of-bearing-life/sexual being sort of way. But still beautiful--but transmuted.

No longer-----a princess, ready for her adventure story--full of possibility, desire, and potential, an unlined face, fresh with newness. Facing a life. Springtime.

But instead----a queen-----who has lived, seen, suffered, and is still doing her part to uphold good in the world. The Autumn of her life, facing the Winter, awaiting the eternal Spring that will come.

Shift from-----unstained beauty. Possibility. Potential. Future. Alluring. Begetting. Flowering

Shift to--->weathered beauty. History. A face lined with testament of the light of a thousand worlds, in struggles fought, lost or won. Standing. Still standing. Doing her part, standing at the pass. And awaiting the final ending of the world.

"Ideals to Strive For" e.g. "Fashion Icons"

1. Tangle, the girl in the Golden Key, at the end, when she is waiting for the boy Mossy at the gate at the end, and has long silver hair and a face covered in wrinkles, waiting by the door, in hope.
2. Kanaan's Jedi mentor Depa Billaba from Greg Weisman's comic. If she had gotten to be as old as the Jedi Librarian [name]. How I imagine she would have been. Sitting up tall, silver hair, flowing robes, stately. Kind to children.
3. Irene's grandma in the Princess and the Goblin. [although this is slightly cheating since she didn't have wrinkles, just fabulous silver hair and immortality...] OK, so Irene's grandma IF SHE had been more mortal. 
4. Old medieval queen, who has been though a lot. [wars, grief, etc], standing tall, waiting in hope for the return of the Hero, bringing back her lost husband and sons. St Margaret in her old age.
5. Old Ma Ingalls.
6. Old Ranger in Arnor, who knows the paths, tracking a trail, listening for signals, knows the coming of the dawn---but the female version. Going to have to find a story with this---or write one myself---or flesh it out in reality.
7. Candy Grandma at church. White haired old woman wheel-chair-bound, handing out gummi worms to all the children. Always smiling, emanating joy. Very cheerful. She put evangelistic bumper stickers on the back of her wheelchair. She always seems to be overflowing with joy. Kids line up and she gives them 2 gummi worms each. I've seen her give them to awkward but still sugar-desiring teenagers. She doesn't make anyone feel guilty, or sorry for her. Radiantly smiling. Overflowing with kindness and happiness, and love for the little mercenary young ones seeing her as a sugar-dispenser. She just loves everyone. After you leave her presence you remember a smiling face with bright eyes and curly white hair.
8. Mother Teresa. She was so beautiful. Bright eyes in a dear wrinkled face. Smiling in joy at the children, she refracted their beauty to what we could see---like a crystal splitting the light to many colors.

Try to be beautiful as long as possible, wear my hair down, as it things, probably armpit/shoulder-length, curled/permed, and pin it on the sides for side-volume. Or just in the elven-style. Then when I have enough wrinkles I want to go grey/silver, and wear my hair long, in two long silvery braids. If my hair gets too thin for this, I shall have to keep it armpit/shoulderlength in a half-up. 

Stand and sit up like a queen. Straight as I can. Work out as much as I can, to keep posture, and my ability to be strong as I can, to walk.

Wear classically beautiful sillhouette, still feminine, but stately. Womanly, old, queenly. 

Long Fit-flared dresses, now with high mandarin collars. If the dress has a scoop neck, wear a white-mandarin collar beneath it. Still wear Dirndls with white blouses, my grey-white hair wrapped in a crown braid. Prairie school-marm fit and flared dresses. Something Ma Ingalls would have worn. And medieval gothic fitted dresses, with a white under-blouse, or a high neck.

Wear make-up, not overdone. Eyebrows are a must on me. Probably blush will be too, as I age. 

And always smile. Encourage the young people, that life is worth it. That despite all the disappointments and pain in life, it is worth it.

 There is Joy on the other side.

And we will get through the night, and make it through to the Other Side.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*[I hope to be able to pull off my current fashion sense of DunedainMom/Ranger-woman, and feminine/pretty/dirndl/medieval for another decade, or decade and a half. I hope. Really hoping my body doesn't hit menopause till 54, like my mommy, despite having lost my uterus. Alas. Imma get it back on the day of Resurrection. I asked Jesus to find it, and give it back to me. I know I won't be using it in the New Heavens and the New Earth...but it was part of me my whole life, and I want it back, in whatever glorified state it may be. If medieval paintings have the various body parts of hapless sailors being coughed up by sea-monsteres, and coming back together again, to stand at the last judgment----it stands to reason I get my uterus back from whatever biohazard dump it was lost in.]

Epic Choreographed Star Wars Fights....

 ....having fun with the kids, doing these epic choreographed fights.

The keys are 

1. Master the basics
2. No T-rex arms---keep your arms out wide from you, swinging in great sweeping motions. As you would if you were wielding a death laser
3. Keep your blocks vertical, and out from your body. As you would if you were blocking yourself with a death laser that could burn you.
4. Keep your attacks with big forward steps. 
5. Keep your defense with big backwards steps.
6. Work in as many spins as possible. (right after a 9 parry is a good place for both people to spin)
7. 8-1-2-1, 8-4-3-4-8, triangle attacks, look pretty epic. Change up the defense with inverted 1's and 2's to keep things interesting.

Going to put up some videos of me and the kids doing these.

We also put an epic sticker on our van.

 Grand Admiral Josh asked why we are desecrating the Chimera with rebel stickers.

I love the symbolism of it. That the rebellion at its heart, has to carry something bigger than just rebellion. A rebellion whose only definition is what it opposes is empty as a house of cards. But holding the old stamped-out religion, in its heart....it makes sense.

A fairy tale retold. A book review for Rapunzel Let Down by Regina Doman

It's been a while since a book has moved me this much.

After my recent realization that sent Rapunzel from being my most hated fairy tale, to my most favorite fairytale, I was intrigued when I saw this novel retelling of it.

Rapunzel Let Down by Regina Doman. 

What happens to the fairy tale when the Prince fails?

It's a modern retelling of the fairy tale of Rapunzel. 

Not the cute Disney version. The Grimm's version. With a 15 yr old getting knocked up by a Prince (or in this case, a politicians son) who wants to keep his secret. 

It is on my "top 50 books to save if the world burns down" list. 

The only caveat, is parents should pre-read it before giving it to their young teenagers. The story is about a 15 year old getting knocked up (Rapunzel, after all), and a statutory-rape trial. So it is a book on sexual themes. But not in an escapist voyueristic way, but a very thought-provoking and deeply moving way...

.....us human beings struggling with our biology and our ideals of love and our theories of reality and trying to figure out who we really are. 

Parents, read it first and see if it's what you want your kids reading. But I think I would let my own sorta-sheltered homeschooled kids read this, perhaps when they're about 15. Maybe black out a couple sentences. Not sure yet. If kids are already reading the sort of YA novels popular these days, it probably won't be too new to them.

It is a deeply moving story. About clashing ideals of the world, of what the world is, about what we are. Failing at our various religions. Struggling with the nature of reality. About feminism and misogyny. A coming of age story, about women's choices in the face of so much that is wrong in the world---with men, with themselves, with the justice system. And about men's choices, sometimes in a system that feels stacked against them. It was about the prison system, and undocumented/illegal immigrants...the terrifying twisted humanity of inmates, realizing it is ourselves....it was a very very thought-provoking book, but so full of twists and turns that I was turning the pages in an adrenaline fueled-frenzy till 4am, knowing I would have to be up in a few hours with the kids. 

I haven't done that in a few years. This book got me to.

It touched my soul. And made me think. Alot. 

Despite some of the more fantastical things that happened at the end (and it got pretty fantastic) the book felt.....so incredibly real. 

Because the people in it, the characters were so real. The people, their choices, their snap decisions and their failures and their broken dreams and forced to face their own failure....trying to figure out reality, trying to figure out who we are in the world.

I highly recommend it. It goes on my list of "Top 50 books I would save" if I could only take 50 books with me. I never thought I would say that about a YA novel fairy-tale rewrite. (I would urge you not to read the reviews that give spoilers. There are some 'turn' moments in it that work best if you experience it with the characters.)

It was good. Perhaps fantastical, perhaps clumsy in parts, but so real. The inner-monologue of our characters, their bitterness, their thoughts, their prayers....it felt all real to me. So real.

Because its very much about humans, the hypocritical believers, the bitter inmates, the unhinged theater major, the Aspie scientist, the smooth politician, the undocumented immigrants, the vying theories of reality, and a girl having to make her own choices in the middle of all of it.

The Wrath was the Mercy

A few months ago it suddenly hit me, at 36 years old, what the fairy tale of Rapunzel was actually about. 30 years after hearing the story.

I had always hated the story. I thought the Prince was a real jerk. He didn't rescue her from the tower, but rather, kept her there, and visited her many times, and got her pregnant. She was a peasant. He was a prince. He had more power than her.  The Prince in Rapunzel seemed like he wasn't all that interested in getting her out. (Unless he was abysmally stupid, and didn't know about the invention of the rope.) She didn't even seem to know what a man was, let alone sex, let alone pregnancy, by her asking the Witch why her belly was growing. I thought he sounded like a Uppity boy taking advantage of a naive girl. I found the story icky, because of the Prince. I even thought darkly that the ending was suspicously 'too happy' with the blinded beggar prince finding Rapunzel in the end in the wilderness and seeing again. When I read kiddie version trying to sanitize the unwed-pregnancy part of the tale I saw through them as the weak attempts at retconning honor for a disappointing prince ('they sorta had a secret wedding in the tower before she got pregnant...but no, he didn't take her home'  and "she said to the witch 'you are heavier than the prince' so it wasn't that the witch found out she was pregnant....but then she had babies so um, yeah, she was pregnant....")

When Tangled came out when I was 22 or so, I said "Ahh, they fixed it" when Eugene turns out to be a nice gentlemanly peasant-thief who doesn't trick her or climb her hair. She is the princess, she holds the power, Eugene never takes advantage of her, physically or any other way. He climbs the tower with his own strength, not tricking her into using hair, and she's the one always trying to kiss him. I said with relief that it was "uncreepified" from the original tale.

And then, at 36 years old, out of the blue, slightly sick and in my jammies, I started crying one morning at breakfast, when I realized the whole point of the fairy tale.

The point was that the Prince wasn't being above board. And he also makes an infinite amount of sense. After learning a lot more about both politics and history, in blood-monarchies it was of infinite importance whom a prince married and procreated with. Even in the pagan times. Constantius left both his peasant wife Helena and his son Constantine, for a chance to marry the noble woman and be Emperor of Rome. Alexander the Great had a kid with a political nobody, at 16 before heading off to conquer the world and pick his royal bride(s) at 30. This list could easily fill pages.

Then, in the Christian era, when annulments weren't as easy to procure as Roman divorces, there always was the common-law wife on the side. The "wives the Danish [pagan] way" as the Saxons would say. Henry II did it. Many many princes did it. (even dear Harold Godwinson had his 'danish-style' common-law wife before he got engaged to the Northern Lady/Princess at being made king at 40) Noble men resigned themselves to often having to wait over a decade before the official noble wife was found, at the right moment when they ascended to their full power, and saw the most pressing alliance that their country required. Telling a passionate 17 yr old that he has to wait, perhaps till he's 35, to have sex when he marries the right princess...they tried to find ways to have what they wanted but still keep their future political options open.

And so the prince in Rapunzel, was in fact, acting like a prince---historically, realistically, pragmatically anyways. He knew that there would be political complications to anything he did. After all, bastard sons can figure-head factions for the throne. Civil War and differing claimants to succession was an always a looming threat. And then, suddenly, out hunting, alone, here's his chance. He meets a peasant girl in the woods in a tower, completely unconnected to politics, that no one else knows is even there...and now he can kiss and all, with no political repercussions whatsoever. Perhaps he meant to abandon her when he got his political marriage in the vague future. Perhaps he intended to keep her as his 'danish wife' indefinitely, not abandon her, just have both at once (and hide his secret tower family from his eventual noble bride). Perhaps he told himself he would take her away from the tower and bring her home, when he had the courage to do so. But whatever he intended, in the fairy tale, he kept her secret for some time, while visiting her in a conjugal fashion, which is how he got caught by the witch. Rapunzel asks the witch to help her get her dress on, and asks her why her belly is growing, and the whole thing comes down like a house of cards. 

And judgment comes down hard. He's blinded. He loses everything. Because he was keeping it all a secret, his servants don't even know where he is. He's lost in the wilderness, a blinded prince, no ID cards, no servants, no credentials, nothing to prove who he is. The Politics he treasured, that kept him keeping the girl a secret, now have abandoned him.  Not even with the peasant-wife. He's alone. He's a nobody. He's a blind involuntarily-celibate nobody---less than a peasant. He can't even find work in a manual labor-culture & warrior culture, being blind was to be useless. He is wandering around homeless, perhaps begging, or scrounging, trying to find enough calories to survive another day.

And he gets that for years and years. 

But the story doesn't end there. 

Because in the wilderness...like something out of the book of Hosea...He finds his children and his woman, that he would have abandoned for fear of losing everything. Crying on him, hugging him, kissing him, and miraculously, he can see again. 

He loses everything....and gains everything in the end. Instead of a guilty secret on his wedding to a princess...he can hug his children and Rapunzel no longer abandoned.

So that morning in the kitchen, after decades of disliking this fairy tale, I now was sobbing to my confused kids (and my Jenny in characteristic epigenetic distaste of the prince) ---at breakfast three months ago....that was the whole point of the story. 

That the wrath was the mercy. 

Life comes in the in-betweens. Living while dying

 I woke up with a vivid dream that involved a nursing home. There were old people who were giving away free violins and violin lessons and food trying to get kids to come, to see kids. I was trying to help them. Harabojii and Halmoni were there. My mother's parents. My Harabojii (Korean for grandfather) died 14 years ago, and my Halmoni has traveled the long road of widow-hood and prayer these many years. In my dream, it was so good to see them together again. But I knew Harabojii was sick and we probably didn’t have long. I hugged him, then remembered I have a cold.

But I was trying to advise the old people to try giving away guitar lessons, broader appeal. Trying to help them find a way for their scheme to see children around to work. Then Badguys were chasing me at one point. There was drama. I don’t remember what happened.

But waking up with the conviction that---why on earth did we sort people like widgets? For energy efficiency, put all the old people in one room, so we can effectively change diapers and provide “care”. Care like lining them up to change their diapers, brush their teeth, and give them all the same nutritionally calculated puddings.

Why?

People aren’t widgets. That kind of life barely sounds like life. Its all the stuff that happens in the cracks that  makes life feel like life. The inconveniences, the people talking in line at the grocery store, the children, always uncontrollable, nuts, with their myriad ideas and fights and stories and sins, running into and out of our lives like tornado.

Life comes in the unexpected, the inconvenient, the in-betweens.

We manage life, by putting all the kids in a room together, so their crazy ideas can be dissuaded en-mass, not to climb the flagpole, or organize a table leaping-off contest. We make them copy down math and memorize mantras and things. Not that there isn’t a place for education.

But seriously, what are we doing????

We stuff the kids into rooms, and then when some boys inevitably won’t sit still, we drug them to make it more efficient for the vastly out-numbered teacher to keep the kids learning. It’s like a prison.

We manage life, by putting all the old people into a room together (or rather, many tiny rooms in one big building) and give them “care” to make sure they have the proper nutrition and diaper changes in time. It’s like a prison.

Prisons are massively efficient ways for society to stuff troublemakers into one building and hopefully try to keep them from killing each-other. (If there is a Purgatory, I hope it is very different than our model.)

I love efficiency. I love batch-sewing dresses, and batch-producing meals.

But boiling life down a life to nutrients ingested, mantras memorized, widgets produced, diapers changed….what happened to the wild morning wind cold and inconvenient, blowing the barely-opened morning-glories against the pale sky brightening in the dawn?

People aren’t widgets. We need the chaos of children, the inconvenience of human contact, the single woman telling you not to leave the top of the chip bag unsealed, the middle aged reflecting on their life and their drama having to pull it together to interact with a surly teenager….. all of it, all mixed up into life.

And what about the childless? Those who never got to have children and grandchildren? They should not be shunted off into an assembly-line style of senior care.

When I lay in the hospital after being gutted and stitched, hovering between life and death, unable to sit without assistance, the tube draining on my side sending spasms every time I had to sit up. Having to hit the nurse button to bring a bedpan…when it was a terrifying thing knowing I would have to sit up in 30 minutes… the fight to hold on to my walker, and make it across the room…they all felt like huge and terrifying obstacles. It was like being suddenly old. My youth---when things like eating, sitting up, walking about---felt far away and impossible. Part of me doubted I would ever be able to do those things again.

To want to live---was so hard. And I knew deep down somehow, that I had to want to live if I was going to live. Perhaps it was melodrama, but I felt that if I gave up, I would die. I was in grief over Anthony, and the pain was the worst in my life. Worse than the 7 unmedicated labors. It felt like transition when I tried to poop. But what got me though transition was yearning for my baby in my arms. And this time, I knew my baby was dead. And that there would never be another new baby from me. It was hard.

To be old, is so hard. To know that the days of possibility and birth are behind you…and before you lies pain to just to continue to exist.

Back to my point.

I yearned to see green things, and my children’s faces. The dawn sky. I strained to see that little flap of a green palm leaf in that courtyard, the window facing a stucco wall, and the bed facing the wrong way. Prison cell room. I tried to stare at the fake wood pattern on the door, thanking God for making woodgrain. I needed to see beauty so badly.

 When I was moved into the blue room with the big window, and could see the horizon lit wit the dawn and dusk glow…it was like I could breathe again. The art on the wall of the raindrops clinging to a leaf. I stared at every nature picture I could get. And children's faces. Seeing their faces was like a burst of color in a grey world. I'd stare at their faces...they almost felt like they were shining with LIFE.

When the ileas blocked my intestine, the pain was so intense....begging God not to listen to any prayers to die I might make, that my statement was I wanted to live, and I was tying myself to the mast....hearing that child cry out for his mommy, his daddy reassuring him that wasn't his mom....me getting there, the bowel scan....then coming back...the pain subsiding [had they started the Dilotted at that point?] looking up and thinking there was so much light afterwards...not sure if I was really aware of reality...and I saw this very goodlooking shape of a man's beautiful shoulders standing there in the brightness [If I remember...half of me wasn't sure if I was seeing Jesus in heaven or some person and I shouldn't be thinking this as a married woman....and especially if it were Jesus...it was very confusing]...and then realized it was Josh with the window behind him.....then afterwards, somehow, the pain meds taking enough edge off, the relief. But still having to fight to live. Telling Josh how we were going to have picnics with the kids in Europe. Imagining going to the park with a picnic with the kids. Imagining the children, and nature, out of that hospital prison. Hospital is a prison. I thought of Harabojii, talking about our trip to Korea, and to the beach, and the picnic, how we were going to have it…all those long months in the hospital, when he couldn’t even eat….I understood better. How he felt. So hard. You need to look forward to something. To children’s faces and green.

I thought about the nursing homes for the childless. We need to make every room have a big window, to see the dawn. No prison rooms. Force people to eat together at least once a day. Sing together. Chapel. And put it in an orchard. So families can come and pick the fruit, and hangout with the old people. They need to see children. They need to be part of a community.

Make it a community. Like Rivendell. Host craft nights, dances, etc. Things for children. Old ppl need to see new life. And new life needs the old. We need to be in it, together. Inconvenient and all. It’s life. Somehow, we have to un-divorce the care of the old from the rest of society. Never have we had this much voyeuristic living, distortions of reality, Instagram replacing long hours shelling beans with octogenarians. We watch dramas and cry our eyes out. And don’t know how to talk to our grandparents. [this is me]

We have lost so much. And we have skyrocketing rates of depression. We need to shell more beans. Have that awkward long walk with someone in a walker who needs to pause every 10 ft and have that rambling conversation that may repeat itself. Life is in the cracks. In the in betweens of leaves against a sky.

Because we are humans. We weren’t meant to die in prison cells of efficiency, alone. We were meant to struggle along, inconveniently, often painfully, together.

Even if they’re grumpy. Even if it hurts. Even if its hard. We need to do it together. Because its important. The children need to know how to live, how to reflect on the story of life---one day, their own life---and the children need to learn how to die, how to make peace. How to live while dying. All of it.

Because we're all living while dying. We're all in this strange riddle, put together, to get through it, together.

The old need to be around children. Around new life. We are the human race, the human family. We were made for each other.

****************

After writing this, I want to volunteer at a nursing home or something. I am not sure how. I know these organizations exist.

Or a prison. And make a garden.

Best List of Children's books a little older, first steps into reading and Graphic Novels [first reading etc]

Arnold Loebl's stuff 

•  Frog and Toad stories, (all of them)
• Owl at home                                                      by Arnold Loebl

Ling and Ting  by Grace Lin

•             Not Exactly the Same
•             Together in All Weather
•             Share a Birthday
•             Twice as Silly                                  

*************Graphic Novels and first very simple chapter books********************

American Girl Series

•             Felicity
•             Samantha
•             Addy
•             Molly
•             Kirsten
•             Kit
•             Kaya

Picture Bible  [illustrated by 000000

Sophia Institute Press  Graphic Novel Saints stories  000000

• Vol 1
• Vol 2
• Vol 3
• Vol 4
• Vol 5

Zita the Spacegirl series by   Ben Hatke  [graphic novels]

• Zita the Spacegirl, 
• Legends of Zita the Spacegirl, 
• Return of Zita the Spacegirl]                         

Mighty Jack Series by Ben Hatke [graphic novels]

• Mighty Jack, 
• Mighty Jack and the Goblin King, 
• Mighty Jack and Zita the Spacegirl*

Ninjago graphic novels    by Greg Farshtey

• Challenge of Samukai
• Mask of the Sensei
• Rise of the Serpentine
• Tomb of the Fangpyre
• Kingdom of Snakes
• Warriors of Stone
• Stone Cold*
• Destiny of Doom 
• Night of the Nindroids
• The Phantom Ninja
• Comet Crisis

TRAILBLAZER BOOKS------------- by Dave and Neta Jackson

Flight of the Fugitives

Bandit of Ashely Downs

Captured by the River Rats

Listen for the Whippoorwill

Never Say Die by Cyril Davey

Sundar Singh  by Cyril Davey    

Best list of children's picture books, The ones I would re-buy if there was a fire

Best children's picture books.

The ones I would rebuy if there was a fire. The ones I would keep to read to my grandchildren

CONTINUES TO BE UPDATED

Solo         by Paul Geraghty

The Three Trees     by Angela Elwell Hunt

The Bear that Heard Crying    by Natalie Kinsey-Warnock

Journey

Quest

Return    by Aaron Becker

The Christmas Story

The Easter Story        by Brian Wildsmith

Remy and Lulu       by K

Bernice Gets Carried Away

Extraordinary Jane                 by Hannah E Harrison

I am a Bunny

What do people do all day

Funniest Stories Ever

Cars and Trucks and Things that Go

The Bunny Book/When Bunny Grows Up

Richard Scarry's Nursery Rhymes

Richard Scarry's Best Storybook Ever [compilation]

Best Mistake Ever and other stories                                By Richard Scarry

Anything ACTUALLY by Richard Scarry and not his ghostwriters/ghostartists

I especially love his early works, in the realistic style [I am a Bunny]

Jesus-pictures---Illust. by Chris Molan [Chosen more for their pictures than their text]

Jesus and John the Baptist 

Jesus Begins His Work

Miracles by the Sea

The First Easter

DK  The Life of Jesus

Tattered Sails [rhyming verse] by

Saint Valentine by Robert Sabuda

It's not easy being a Bunny      by   Marilyn Sadler

Very Bad Bunny*                      by   Marilyn Sadler

Street Through Time   [DK]

The Thief who stole Heaven

The Spider who stole Christmas

The Magnificent Mischief of Tad Lincoln                    by  Raymond Arroyo

Our Lady of Guadalupe                           by Carmen T. Bernier-Grand and Tonya Engel

Bread and Jam for Frances

Best Friends for Frances

Bedtime for Frances

A New Sister for Frances 

A Bargain for Frances                                 by ??????

OLDER KIDS---HISTORY, PART PICTURE

Peter Connolly's 

The Roman Army, 

The Greek Armies, 

Hannibal and the enemies of Rome, 

History of the Jewish People in the Time of Jesus [Holy Land]

Greece and Rome at War

The Ancient City

Would you survive series

The Usborne Book of World History 

Little Rangers need to go a'ranging...

 Little Rangers need to get their kits out at least once a month. They need to explore outside, learn valuable skills like tracking, stamina, waking at dawn, building fires, watching the stars....they need SKILLS and they are only going to get said skills by going out and roughing it in the wilderness.

Alas, one skill for a ranger mom trapped in the valley of the Sun, is to reserve campsites far in advance. 6-5.5 months in advance....

If we were really cool, we'd figure out how to make camp in the site-less wilderness...preferably under bracken where the Crebain of Dunland cannot sight us....but we aren't at that awesome yet. So we'll stick with reserved sites, until our skills are much much better.

UPDATE: ????? IT seems that contrary to my impression, Payson is actually COOLER than Sedona in the summer....So next year we are going to check Payson first for June, July, Aug. Sedona is more for April, May, Sept

Nov--AZ Desert 

• AZ desert dawn hikes,  
• Hidden Valley, 
• Fat Man's pass
• Sears-Kay Ruin (Hohokam)
• Check out Alltrails
• ??Montezuma's well [3 hr drive]
• Pioneer Museum? 
• Lost Dutchman campsite

Dec & Jan--AZ Desert dawn hikes [Hidden Valley, Pioneer Museum? Fat Man's pass, Sears-Kay Ruin (Hohokam)] Have back-yard fires and toast marshmallows.

Feb --AZ Desert dawn hikes, Lost Dutchman campsite. 

March--AZ Desert dawn hikes, Lost Dutchman campsite...or THE MINE

[I need to reserve the Spring reservations by Nov/Dec, and Summer reservations by Feb/March]

April -- AZ Rim-country/Sedona Oak Creek--- AZ desert Dawn Hikes 

• [too hot to camp in AZ desert]
• [Mingus Mountain and Mogollan Campground and Aspen AZ not open till May], 
• THE MINE Morenci, AZ
• Yavapai, White Spar (Prescott) is open [but terrible bathrooms] not alot of trees
• Sedona/Oak Creek stuff is Open
• Maybe....Payson IS ALL FF IN APRIL [Christopher Creek] and Ponderosea (AZ) and Houston Mesa [Payson near Water Wheel] are FF in April 

May -- AZ Rim-country, Prescott, ----Sedona/Oak Creek stuff is Open  (Payson is open)

• Mingus Mountain! 
• Mogollon Campground on Rim ??
• ASPEN AZ ??
• Ponderosa AZ ??
• Sedona/Oak Creek stuff is Open(Pine Flatts)
• Christopher creek, 
• Houston Mesa Campground NEAR Water Wheel Falls (Payson)  Time for this the next 3 months

June

• last chance at Mingus---EARLY june, Prescott, 
• Payson--Christopher Creek/Houston Mesa Campground NEAR Water Wheel Falls (Payson) 
• Maybe Sedona & Oak Creek Canyon Too Hot

July--Mountains or Creeks, 

• CHRISTOPHER CREEK IN PAYSON 
• Houston Mesa Campground in Payson, near Water Wheel Falls
• Maybe Oak Creek Canyon/Sedona [bc of Oak creek. Also Manzanita is COOLER they say, Pine Flats, Bootlegger, Cave Spring], 
• Maybe Mogollon Campground is 2mi from a lake....  Too Hot
• OR THE ROCKIES

Aug--Mountains or Creeks, PAYSON,OR THE ROCKIES Oak Creek Canyon/Sedona... Too Hot

Sept--Mountains or Creeks, PAYSON, OR Oak Creek Canyon/Sedona [Finally Cool Enough!...]

Oct -- AZ Rim-country, Prescott, Mingus [may-oct] OR Oak Creek Canyon/Sedona...

And how to homestead...when we are in a little quarter-acre lot in a desert, and may move in the near-ish future?

Homestead, but not as the homestead being the goal---as we may need to sell, and later owners destroy it. Plant fruit trees, for the future if owners keep it. And always garden with the kids. Involve my little rangers as much as possible...because its about the memories being forged WITH them, and the skills being forged IN them, and not about the physical garden or home so much. We are traveling, but we can make these way-stations along the way as beautiful as we can. As green as we can. As productive as we can. 

But it should always be about the little Rangers, and not the way-station.

Savings

I--37   [110 saber--?Cool One]  [50 new saber] [wants stormtrooper helmet 80]

J-- 30.25    [110 saber] Templar  [50 new saber]

K-- 77 [110 saber--twin sister] [50 new saber] [10 bucks for moria]

M-- 25.75      [110 saber---moondust]

S--- 41.15   [silver saber? $73 ] [7 bucks for moria]

Ana---6         [branches saber $50] [gradient saber? $73]

 

I owe bex 88+22-32-38[dresses]=40   GET HER SHEETS! White cotton for shirts, chemises, petticoat skirts. White for aprons. Something thicker weave [like curtains] for skirts/dirndls

WAYS TO SPEND MONEY: Mom takes you thrifting. Lightsabers. Candy. Save up for Stormtrooper helmet

 
Ways to make money

     

1. MOVING MULCH---- 3 FULL RED loads/$1 [blue full loads, 4 per $1] [I think about 200 loads/drop] 

2.    WEEDING

a.       VARIOUS NAMED WEEDING CHORES---may vary between $1 to $7  

b.       Upkeep weeding [$2/month for keeping your area clear of Bermuda] 

                                                                              i.       Front Yard [Mariam]

                                                                           ii.        West Side of the House (Plum Garden and Peach Garden)                                                                     [Jehanne*]

                                                                         iii.        East Side of the House to prayergarden [Jehanne]

                                                                         iv.        Grassy yard and Playset and plant back row [Isaiah] 

3.       Make Bread $1---for 9 cups---3 sandwich tins.

4.       Make Branches Lunches , Cleaning up Branches Lunchboxes, Wash, Dry, and store open $2 

6.       Mending Clothes----Varies---$0.25 cents to $0.50 per garment.

7.       Sewing Clothes---for littles [clothes for your siblings under 8 yrs old] according to Mom’s specifications. Varies $2--$4/garment

    8. Bathing and dressing littles, up to 2x week,  $1 per time

    9. Clean out the Car, Shop Vac it-- $3 once a month [1st of the month]

    10. Various Home Improvement Projects [e.g. repainting the cabinets, stucco-ing a panel, digging a ditch etc)

    11. Washing the curtains and rehanging them AND washing the couch covers and putting them back on--$6 ($3 each, a two man job), once a month

  12. ??? Shampooing G&G's LR, hallway carpets, shampooing couches, mopping Kitchen&Dining Room floor. 2 kids, each get $7, so it costs G&G 14 total.  [about $3/hr special grandparent rate]

Memory of our lives

 

July 11 2024

36 years old. Yesterday was my 14^th wedding anniversary. I have 8 children on earth, 2 children in heaven, and a uterus rotted for a year somewhere in some hospital’s biohazard dump. I know, barring a miracle, that I am done receiving new little souls in my body, to grow and live in the world. It hurts.

I realize how strange memory is. More and more, it feels like my own life is forgotten by me---the only things that remain were pinned down by words. Even things that I never wrote down, but if I described them to myself or others, then I can remember them. But otherwise, they fade away.

I used to think there was some part of my mind that recorded my own life. That all I had to do was access it, like a hidden file on a computer. But it seems that it’s not there. And scariest of all, it seems that people can rewrite their memories, or at least, completely reshape the story of it, without changing the bare facts. Like music to raw footage of a movie. The music changes everything. Especially disgruntled young people in their 20s and 30s, trying to make sense of their lives. Comparing the notes of their childhood with other siblings, other witnesses. Or when reading war-memoirs. The novelist author knew to pick out the really poignant parts, but even he had to pick. The heroism, the horror, little things that stuck out in it. Some guys go on and on about the details of all the fallen buddies---remembering their glasses, their names, their hometowns, as if somehow saving something precious. Some guys rambling on about minute details no one cares about---the rifle type, the little personal altercation with a higher up. And even in the war---the things the men chose to cling to. That one guy dying holding onto the little polaroid of his baby in the dark…even the way we cling to the story of our own life in little pieces of plastic. But it’s the act of recollection---the war memoirs themselves---that is so weird. Like in the Vietnam book, he chooses the framing to be about the lines Chan wrote in his Bible, even at the breakdown at the end. Two siblings so close in age can have drastically different memories or perceptions of the same few years. It seems the story of someone’s life can be utterly changed by the way they remember it---like the music the producers pick to pair with the raw footage everywhere. And picking which cuts to save, to string together in the final production. Our minds—editing the footage of our lives---can make such very different things.

I hope God holds all the raw footage. And the real music to be paired with the story. Only He knows the story He was really making.

Right now, my story doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t get why God took my babies. Why my uterus had to spectacularly fail, when I was pregnant with a little boy who was an answer to thousand prayers of Isaiah, and whom I felt was going to do something important for God’s Kingdom.

Right now, in suburbia, after the trial of Grad-School, Josh stuck with a Job that he doesn’t feel any higher purpose in, other than trying to pay off an overpriced house squeezed into a quarter-lot in a desert….passing the point of the dream of Josh with the torch on the hill in the rain on the bare mountain…..I don’t know what our purpose is.

I feel….lost.

Like I’m halfway through a book and realize it’s not going anywhere. I see wrinkles popping up in  my face. I see a huge scar cut across my baby-stretched belly, holding the skin in strangely. I have passed the point of potential….with careful treatment, optimistically, I may look young for another decade. But I have passed 20 years of doing this—being 16 and the age I could be in an adventure story---now I’m 36 and too old for an adventure story. At least, the kind where its about potential and choices that shape a life. My life is shaped. And in one sense….it feels over.

I know that’s a ridiculous thing to say. Even me writing this, is shaping how I feel. Words are recursive like that. Even our attempts to understand our life re-shape our life. Or perhaps give it shape that can fit into our little finite brains.

Only God knows what true story is going on here.

Maybe when God shows us the final cut of our lives, the final story, the most important parts will be small scene that we didn’t even remember, or that we chose to leave on the cutting room floor.

I have 8 children counting on me. 8 little potentials whose lives are flung in front of them like empty vistas with stormy skies above them. 7 little maidens who will be that beautiful main character ninja girl in an adventure story. 1 young man ripe for his coming of age adventure. I need to help him. I have hurt his confidence so much.

God, help me help Isaiah be a man. Help me. Help me be the mother I never have been.  Heal him where I have let him down.

And please bring him the right woman at the right time, bring him Eve. Helpmeet. Help him become who you want him to become.

I think what has stopped me from writing in diaries for 8 years was how recursive they get. How they seem to reshape (or concretize) my own life and my own thinking. It seemed oddly untrue---squeezing the reality of my life into a mold or a shape, that wasn’t all true---as if I am writing a computer program to program my own brain…it felt artificial, forced, a lie somehow.

But lately, I think about my memories of my own life, and realize I’m always doing that. Always shaping reality with words. I just hadn’t written them down.

And I’m getting older. I’m forgetting my own life. The kids will tell me recent (or 7 yr old) memories of things that Mommy said and did that sound very plausible, but I have zero recall of. Some of them are really good memories too. I wish I remembered them. I’m glad that they do. But I think my aging brain needs some help pinning down my own life. It feels like its passing in a blur….and I have nothing to fill the time that I know lapsed.

I want to write now. Write down the memories, even if it turns out is half-fake and sifting, and artificial. God will save the truest story. I will write my fragments, and He can correct all the errors in the final analysis.

I need to write about losing my babies. I need to write about 2023

Best Times to Play Outside

The best time to play outside: 

 3 hours after dawn, 3 hours before sunset. (sunrise and sunset times here) 

The first 3 hours after dawn is when the light is full of fresh hope and new mercy. The wind tastes like hope. Birds are singing. Even the UV rays are attenuated by their long journey through our air. Even better is to start half an hour before dawn, when the light of our star mixes with the light of the far stars, as our atmosphere fades out of the view of the galaxy.

The 3 hours before sunset, the air is heavy with the heat of our star, now pressing around us with the fullness, like an ocean around a fish. Full, like a warm sea. The day is full. Children run about with the crazed emotions of those who don't know they are tired. Heated argument, epic adventures, or laughing hysterically at jokes too mystical to be understood by the narrow minds of adults. They are meant  run off this energy under the unconfined, ceiling of the heavens, as their forbears have for millenia. Gradually the birds wake up again, excited as our sky fades into the galaxy.

One by one the far stars show their faces through the blue veil. It fades, vanishing once more, and we see again through the viewport of our planet, as it hurtles through the stars.

Jan 15     7:32am,   5:43pm

Feb 15     7:12am,   6:12 pm

Mar 15    6:38am,   6:36 pm

Apr  15    5:58am,   6:59 pm

May 15   5:28am,   7:21pm 

June 15   5:18am,   7:39pm 

July 15    5:29am,    7:38pm 

Aug 15    5:50am,   7:14pm 

Sept 15    6:11am,   6:34pm 

Oct 15     6:32am,     5:54pm 

Nov 15    7:00am,   5:25pm

Dec 15     7:24am,   5:21 pm

Chief Obstacles:

1. Obstacle #1  Light shining sideways into your eyes. Strategically place trees, shadecloths, and trellises east of where you intend to hang out early in the morning, or west of where you hang out in the afternoon. Another option is to place play-structures, rose gardens, garden benches, picnic tables, outdoor work tables, such that they are shaded by the house at these times.
2. Obstacle #2 Mosquitos love twilight. 
1. Clothes. Nothing stops a mosquito like fabric. In the winter months we're bundled up like Rangers, and the mosquitos aren't out anyway. In the warmer months, wear long loose linen pants. You can even sew "extensions" of fabric (like really long cuffs) to the ends of pants (they get worn out and need to be replaced anyway). The length and swinging movement keeps mosquitos from feasting on yoru ankles, even if you are barefoot or in sandals. Li Ziqi wears these kinds of pants in many of her summer videos
2. Habitat-destruction During the rainy season, every evening, have the kids help me do a quick scout out the backyard, to make sure there isn't any secret standing water around.
3. Repel with plants Try growing the vaunted anti-mosquito plants (lemon balm, basil, etc) about the garden, around play areas and sitting areas in by garden benches. Secondly, try making some of that "hippie bug spray" as Josh calls it, the essential oils said to repel mosquitos. I'm going to be oiling my skin anyway, why not put in some nice smelling stuff mosquitos don't like.
4. Trap: Try leaving standing water with the mosquito dunks in them, like enlightenment garden channel does. Need to be careful its not drownable to toddlers though.
5. Chemical Spray: Last resort, if things ever get REALLY bad, use chemical repellant. That is where long loose pants come in, since spraying your clothes seems preferable to spraying the skin. But on kids in shorts, need to do what must be done. Aim for the ankles, calves, triceps, and back of the neck/back. And remember not to breathe it in.
3. Obstacle #3 Kids need to be schooled. Because we are homeschooled, this isn't as much of an issue. Schedule school to start at least 3 hours after sunrise, and end at least 3 hours before sunset. e.g. Start school after 8:30 in the summer months, and after 10:30 in the winter months.

UV Indexes and White People

These actually matter. White people aren't used to high UV indexes. They come from the Northern Lands, clinging to the pole of our planet, where the sun is dimmed by the tilt of the earth. Their DNA is exposed in semi-translucent skin, to the dimmer pole-sun. Their skin does not contain enough of the armor of melanin, that shields DNA against our Star's radiation in the more equatorial latitudes.

e.g. in London in late April the UV index maxes out at a 3.  In Phoenix on the same day, its a 9. Being closer to the equator makes a huge difference. Then throw in the never-ending blue sky, and even compared to Dallas TX, we have no "off" days where cloud cover keeps the UV to a 3. Its unrelenting sun all the time. In June and July, Phoenix tops out at 11/12. 

There is a world of difference between living closer to the Arctic Circle, or to the Tropic of Cancer. You wouldn't think that the difference between latitude 32 (Phoenix) and latitude 52 (London) would more than quadruple the UV exposure. But it does. Like poking an orange with a pin, the angle you poke the orange peel greatly changes how much of the pin you can insert into the peel before you hit the inner fruit. Likewise, the more "orange peel" atmosphere that the sun's rays have to traverse to reach us, can greatly reduce the amount of UV that reaches us.

 The swarthy Mediterraneans of Europe correlate to the latitude of America's 'far-northern' Massachusetts & New England. Arizona and Texas, correlate to Northern Africa and the Middle East, Iran, Pakistan, etc. where people either have more melamine-rich skin or drape themselves in fabric like the Tuscan Raiders. Or both.

Daily UV index matters, note the peak hours. Playing outside for 2 hours before 10am exposes you to the same amount of UV as 10 minutes at noon.

Play outside before 10am, and after 4pm.

UV index for April in Phoenix. As the peak index rises with the summer, the entire graph shifts up in exposure, but it always keeps this general shape.

 

Roughly, equinoxes are March 20th and Sept 20th. Solstices are June 20th and Dec 20th. So from a UV exposure perspective, the danger zone is April through September. 

UV index changing with the months. 

Note how Phoenix maxes out almost at a 12. I think the highest London gets is a 6. But given how math works, shift the peak up 2x, exposes you to more than 2x the total UV. E.g. a 12" pizza is more than twice the size of a 6" pizza.

Since the kids are inside from 8 to 4 June through September (too hot to be in the sunlight), the "danger zone" is really March & April, October. This is when it feels nice and cool, but the UV index is still very high (compared to the Northern latitudes to which their ancestors grew up.) So they aren't programmed to avoid sunlight at these nice temperatures, even though the UV index is frying their DNA through their translucent northern skin. This is when insisting on hats is very important.

"Getting a tan" isn't a sign that all is well for a white kid. (My Jenny can tan to Pakistan or indigenous Mexican levels). That melamine deposit is like the reconquista. The UV has already come in and won a major victory. The damaged body then fought back, and erected a make-shift wall of melanin to protect the DNA for the rest of the summer. But there has already been damage done. Battles lost, DNA messed with, collagen destroyed. And the white kids that don't tan, merely means they lose that battle over and over, and can never even muster that makeshift wall.

But kids hate hats.

So be smart. Strategize shade. You'll never get it all, aim for the 80% rule. 

Study them in their natural habitat. Ascertain their habits, where they hang out. And then alter that habitat. Strategize ways to shade where they play 80% of the time. Study their playing patterns. (E.g. make sure the tree's shadow hits the playset after school hours. Put structure near the kiddie pool that shade it in afternoon, when the kids are there. Pay attention to how they play. (e.g. In the early spring, secure some shade cloth to the top of the swing set with cable and T-posts for shade at noon, since the cool weather means they play outside all day, even during peak UV hours, in the summer, note where do they hangout in those cool-but-dangerous hours)

Rig shade (or better yet, grow shade trees) over the key areas they spend 80% of their time. (e.g. the mulberry tree shades the playset in the morning, so I need to rig up a shade cloth whose shadow will hit the playset in the afternoon).  Be aware of how sun angles and seasonal shift move where the shade from the shade cloth (or tree) ends up.

 I plant trees, and then rig up shade, because trees take time to grow. (Pakistan Mulberry Trees will grow SUPER FAST in Phoenix, if you water them a lot)

Shade ideas: 

1. The fastest option, T-posts (8 footers), cable, and shade cloth.
2. Pretty options: Cattle Panel arches anchored with T-posts, with fast-growing vines, and a bit of shade cloth on top while waiting for the vine to grow. (You can wire 2 arches together for a super big arch, depending on your local windspeeds)
   
3. Classy Options: 4x4 lumber posts whose end grain is painted with outdoor paint (or pressure treated), affixed with decking screws, and possibly 2x4 braces. Set in the ground with gravel (better than concrete, drains better). Screw in screw-eyes and hang shade cloth.
   
4. Really Classy and Pretty Option: Grow a grape vine up wood/cattle panel trellis
5. Super super $$$ option: Build a Pergola or Gazebo
   

Simple Lifelong Strategies for White Children:

1. Make a habit to put a hat on before going outside. Especially in nice-feeling weather, where they won't instinctively seek shade.
2. Make a habit of going outside in the early morning and late afternoon hours. Morning sunlight is so beautiful. Be outside when the birds are most excited. (If mosquitos are a problem, long loose pants that cover the ankles work really well. I will even sew extensions to my pants that don't cover the ankles. Mosquitos mostly go for my ankles and calves for some reason. I think I move my arms enough they don't aim for them as much)
3. Study them in their natural habitat, and adjust their habitat with shade (via tree or cloth) wherever the kids play 80% of the time in higher UV times of day.

A very white baby. She doesn't even have hair to shield that very white head from the UV rays.

 

The Idea of "Unplanned Pregnancy" (And Surprise Birthday Parties, John the Baptist, and Spring)

You know...this year, I really really thought about it, and decided it would be good for my life to have winter end this year.... It may even help the farmers. And it'll lift everyone's spirits to see some flowers, and have a blue sky, so...you know what, let's plan on having Spring this year! Lets see...2023....about March, maybe?

 Let's start in March, we don't want to wait too late in the year because we want to be sure to make it to our family camping trip in June. And if we don't have spring this year it, may be hard to make it through the roads without a snowplow attachment....

As a child, I thought the term "planned pregnancy" was ridiculous. Like "planned spring." Grownups were at it again, overestimating the importance of their Ideas of How Everything Ought to Be. 

Just like their lofty declarations "no pushing or shoving on the playground." We'll just wait till they were busy talking and us kids who knew what life was really like, could get into a rousing game of tag.

When I heard the term "surprise baby", somewhere around 9 or so, I thought it was a compliment. That a kid had the cleverness and chutzpah to surprise their parents with their arrival. Like a surprise birthday party, with all the glee and joy and shocked faces that that entails. I knew a few families, who "thought they were done", and who had a surprise baby. In my childhood mental framework, those kids were like John the Baptist, showing up with angels and prophecies of greatness.

I felt like surprise babies got extra points.

So I used it like a compliment. 

 I still remember, doing laundry with my mom, as she folded clothes and tried to explain to me not to use that term, because people may feel hurt. I was confused. She explained people may feel sad that their parents didn't plan to have them.

But God makes the babies, I thought. So why give a heck whether dim ol' mom and dad were up to speed. They'll figure out what's happening soon enough, and have a few months to get a stroller and the bottles and the baby toys.

God makes the babies. He planned it. So why are these grownups taking so much credit?

I know a bit more about biology now than I did at 9. But that simple fact of my child brain, is true:

God wills every human soul, fashions and places each one into each human body He knits together. 

Sunday after Sunday, reciting "...conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the virgin Mary...."

Jesus was conceived by the Holy Spirit. Born of Mary.

And so is every baby. We are conceived of the Holy Spirit, and born of (perhaps dim) parents. 

Every human is God's idea. Each of us is made in the heart of God. We are, individually, uniquely, conceived of in His mind, and hand-crafted by His hand.

We are each of us, specifically, willed by God. 

Ruhi looks at family pictures taken more than 2 years ago, and says "Where am I?!" 

I open my mouth to tell her she wasn't born yet, and I hear Ana's little voice piping in "Ruhi, you were in duh mind of God"

Hi? I believe God express mailed me to this residence.