Random Musings from a lapsed blogger:
We just returned from a lovely 4-day vacation in Flagstaff. It was a much needed break for a much-worked Papaya Daddy & Mommy. We got sore necks staring up at the beautiful golden aspens high up in the peaks, then descended to red rock Sedona to complete a fairly strenuous 5-mile hike into Boynton Canyon. The Papaya hiked the entire 5 miles on his own, with only one minor whine during the first half. We were all incredibly proud of him. Way to go, Papaya!
Speaking of the Papaya, during our second night in our Flagstaff hotel, I heard a bump in the dark, coming from the direction of the kids' room. I walked over to investigate. Both kids were asleep, but as I came near the Papaya, I saw that his pillow was covered with blood. "Are you okay?" I whispered. The Papaya stirred & said "Yes, Mommy, but I fell out of bed." Bending closer, I saw a gash on his left eyelid. I awakened Papaya Daddy & we pulled out our flashlight to investigate further. Shrinking away from the light, a very sleepy Papaya protested, "I'm shy!" and immediately fell back asleep again. However, the gash was gaping enough to require a stitch or two to avoid a large scar. Wanting to avoid the trauma of the ER at 1:00 in the morning (not to mention a needle in the Papaya's eyelid), Dr. Daddy drove out to Walmart & returned with Superglue. I held the Papaya (still mostly asleep) still while our expert physician superglued his eyelid gash together with three separate applications that we blew on to dry. It's healing beautifully, and the Papaya never shed a single tear over the incident!
The Papaya is old enough now to begin exploring some of the deep questions of life, specifically the afterlife. A couple months ago, it dawned on him that we all (including him) will die someday, and after some tears and discussion, he decided to focus on the excitement of Heaven rather than the horror of death. Since then, there's been a lot of speculation about Heaven & exactly how we'll get there. When NaiNai (Papaya's paternal grandmother), who just completed a two week visit, asked him how he could get to heaven (she was interested in teaching him about the salvation process rather than the mecanics of transport he was pondering), he thought for a few seconds, then answered very seriously, "Well, first you have to die. After that, I'm not sure how you get there." She tried to explain about asking Jesus into your heart, and he responded with absolute gravity, "But NaiNai, how do I do that after I die?" After some further thought, he decided that there was probably a big tube between heaven & earth, and that after you die, you get sucked through the tube, all the way to heaven.
Our efforts at religious education also include teaching the two older kids a Bible verse every week. We try to make sure they remember the reference as well as the verse. The Papaya's pretty good at this, but the Banana (who just turned 3 - Happy Birthday!) has a little bit of trouble. "Can you tell me where it's from?" is a common question from us after she recites a verse.
Well, last week the kids were watching a Netflix Reading Rainbow DVD about immigration in the late 19th and early 20th century. It included a lot of old footage of immigrants arriving at Ellis Island, and concluded with the playing of the famous 80's song with the refrain, "They comin' to America! Today!" The kids found this song quite memorable, and during snack, the Banana sang the refrain & asked me, "Mommy, where does 'Comin' to America' come from?" Absently, I replied, "from Neil Diamond." The Banana triumphantly declared, "Neil Diamond 15:16!"
I don't think Neil Diamond is quite that authoritative.
The Portabella is growing by leaps and bounds & just hit her 5-month birthday. She got her second round of immunizations two weeks ago and weighed in at 12 pounds. She's becoming quite the extrovert and loves to give dazzling smiles to strangers, something that garners her quite a lot of public adoration when we're out and about. Those strangers had better not try to hold her, however - she's a definite Mommy's girl when it comes to that.
Cultural tidbit of the day for all my readers: our long weekend in Flagstaff was made possible by Papaya Daddy's comp days that followed a grueling 10-day work stint (something that happens about once a month). This "Ward doc" rotation includes a weekend of running the ER and the inpatient wards. The ER was a busy place weekend before last, in part because of the annual Hopi "basket dance". This is a harvest-type celebration dance that traditionally included tossing baskets (the Hopi are excellent weavers) into the dancing space as an expression of joy in the harvest and bounty. These days, the throwing of objects has extended past just baskets to encompass just about any kitchen implement you can think of - toasters, coffeepots, and pans are all fair game. Papaya Daddy had his hands full repairing lacerations (with stitches, not Superglue) - caused specifically by a flying platter, a muffin pan, and some unknown object. Only at Hopi!
Stay tuned for a birthday post & pictures of the Banana & fall aspens - hopefully sometime in the next month!
There's at least one great thing about living on an Indian reservation where there's almost zero interest in national politics (I haven't seen a single sign for either presidential candidate on the entire reservation): when you show up to vote, the number of poll workers will almost certainly outnumber the amount of people waiting in line. This morning, Papaya Daddy & I were the lone voters, with about 10 workers at the polling station to help us along. It still felt good to be a part of the national democratic process, however.
