Greetings from planet Kutcha Kutcha!

Click here to view this photo book larger

Shutterfly offers exclusive photobook layouts so you can make your book just the way you want.

A number of months back, Cris told me that at night he never sleeps but that some aliens from planet Kutcha Kutcha come and get him every night and he goes with them. Oh yeah, and we are not actually his real parents. The aliens have brought him here to put him in our care. So in honor of his *SIX* year old birthday (and thanks to a great Groupon!) he got this book- from Planet Kutcha Kutcha, of course!

AB[C...]D: All but [children...]dissertation

On Friday, Evan took his very last final ever! I am giddy. He is officially "all but dissertation"- that precarious wobbly rung on the graduate school ladder where most incoming monetary offers are so low one risks falling off the ladder from laughing so hard or from just jumping off. Sigh. At least we're at the top.

What a crazy journey it has been. In seven of the last eight years someone has been in graduate school, with three years in the middle with both of us in school at the same time. Nine combined years and three very pregnant pauses later, we are here. Um, that wasn't really the plan.

Us. Around 36 weeks pregnant with Cristopher. He was born at 41 weeks.

I found out about the first ellipsis on the same day as my first graduate class. I was working full time and had to commute more than an hour to my classes while frequently pulling over to puke. Quickly we were shuffling our very bouncy boy like a hot potato. For many of Cris' early months Evan was the primary caretaker after we choose for him not to return to teaching the fall after Cris was born. After my maternity leave, I went part time through my next two jobs.  That was fairly balanced because we both had some work time and lots of baby time. We put Cris in a home daycare part time at 15 months when I started a new full time job and Evan started his master's. It proved to be a very unfit situation and we almost had to report them for neglect when I picked him up one day with twenty bites all over him where another kid of the same age had attacked him when the caregiver was outside. Next we put him in a part time mother's day out that we all really loved. It seemed, momentarily, like maybe things were going to work well for all. But then really hit a wall- like a watermelon- when I was working closer to 60 hours/week (the double-edged sword was that most of it was from home) in addition to graduate school. After turning into a very mean blubbery mess most days, I gave my two weeks notice. I was very grateful to do extended nursing with him throughout all of it.

Cristopher, about 30 min after birth. With Evan and my sister.

Ironically, (or perhaps fortuitously), the day after my last day I found out I was pregnant again, but this time I had no job prospects and was between insurances. I am so very grateful for the state services that have splintered us throughout our graduate school process! I have become keenly aware of how complicated navigating those systems are as well as how challenging it is for most who depend on them and glimpsed the stresses of the masses in our country living below the poverty line. I hope that we will always be advocates for those weighed down under those issues.

Evan holding Connor just after he was born

While we love him dearly, this baby screamed frequently, never slept, and refused to take a bottle. Nothing we did felt like it was meeting his needs. I think we were all somewhat depressed. It was utterly exhausting. And the weekly 2 hour trip I had to make for my Tulsa class was pure torture for all involved. He would scream for 6 solid hours.  He absolutely refused to take any bottle of pumped milk. (I am quite certain that if I would have been working full time I would have had to quit my job just like a friend of mine I knew). Poor little guy! In retrospect, I wish I had just packed him up and taken him to class with me in a baby carrier. But I wasn't yet the kind of mother who was confident or bold about those kind of things. Most (Un)Perfect time for me to start on my thesis... By divine intervention, the most gracious mother-in-law, and way over-extending the generosity of most of my friends and family, I finished all of it when he was two and a half! I am so relieved that he is adjusting better to so many things now. I will never know if many of his challenges were entirely something he was born with or if some of his development may have been a bit compromised from the stresses he had as a baby. We are just now beginning to get a handle on some of his enigmas.

Finally in January of 2011 I found out that I was pregnant, totally unplanned, again. This time we were able to fully embrace the possibility.  I was the most sick throughout this pregnancy, but in October after a month of pre-term contractions, we met our wonderful girl at almost 42 weeks. She is the most peaceful patient jolly baby ever. We are all so grateful for her and how much time we all get to spend adoring her. She fills the world with light and joy.

Getting to know Calyn in our bed.

Meanwhile throughout all of this Evan has played in countless amazing concerts and ensembles. The kids have gotten to attend many of them (which means I was initially spending many hours trying to nurse/quiet/occupy a child throughout his professional events). At times he has been working many jobs and had many days that start and then end before dawn. But we are here! Finally! And we are very blessed.

Oklahoma: My acquired ecosystem AND Norman "Forward"!

 Just like avocados were for me an acquired taste, Oklahoma is my acquired ecosystem. Okay, technically I live in the cross timbers region of Oklahoma, but to authors, the writers of musicals, composers, and just about everyone else inside and outside of Oklahoma the whole state is perceived to be a prairie.

True, Oklahoma has it's lovely points...like the fact that fried meat is all you can find on any menu, or the fact that noodling (the absurd practice of catching catfish with your bare hands!) is a popular, all be it illegal, sport. Like the fact that when I purchased my house there was still language in the deed prohibiting people of other ethnicities from living in my neighborhood. I have security knowing there are at least 10 churches in every square mile eager to deal out there version of condemnation. People don't (ahem) drink or evolve and pretend not to go with boys who do. We get fantastic rankings in things like domestic abuse, obesity, female incarcerations, literacy levels, child poverty, Super Fund sites, and recycling rates. Our Governor doesn't appear to have done well in 5th grade English; but our weather man is a superstar.

If the record low was too low for you, hang on, that record high is coming-perhaps in the same day. Summer is so hot here you have to believe in hell, but at least your smoke alarm gets tested whenever you open the door. AND, cooking steak on the sidewalk makes that noisome state animal the angus useful. We don't have much in the way of mountains, but we do boast of the world's highest hill. There is no ocean but claims are made that we have more shoreline than any other state (admittedly, I'm a dubious of this one). We have more tornadoes than any other state, but at least in the flat places you can see them coming. The only natural disaster we have not had (since I've lived here!) is a tsunami or a volcanic eruption (hurricane: check, earthquake: check, F5 tornadoes: check, softball size-hail: check, ice- storm: check, sand storm: check, flood: check, drought: double check...).

But somehow this land of red dirt gets under your skin (and in your boots, pulverized into your carpet, and up your nose). It is first place I saw bald eagles, buffaloes, prairie dogs. First place I swam in a lake, rode a horse, went fishing, got married- oh wait- another Oklahoma trend I don't actually want to follow.

And a few weeks ago, when Evan got to be part of premiering a local symphony I was reminded how much I don't want to leave- at least not for a very long while. We even now have our own "Norman anthem" and symphony called "Forward!". I was so proud of him, and that orchestra, and all our friends in it and the ways they were unifying a community and empowering young musicians. If you would have cut me open, I am certain I would have bled dirt!

Check them out (Good video clips here):
Norman Philharmonic Gears Up For Inaugural Concert
Audience gives Norman Philharmonic a Standing Ovation
Norman Philharmonic Symphony's Press Page

I want my kids to grow up singing these songs. I want this place to hold their place. I want them to hear how it beckons comfortably to old (and new!) friends "ya'll come back now, ya hear?" as it shakes them on the shoulders and connects with it's solid gritty handshake back to that dirt.