Lily's Thoughts on War

Lili'u has a large world map above her bed, and at different points we've talked about where we are, where our families are, places we want to go, and where important things are happening. One thing we've talked about is the war in Iraq.

At first Lily seemed to think the name of the place was "Wariniraq", but then she came to understand the difference between the name and the ongoing event. Lili'u has shown a lot of interest lately in sorting out "how we feel" about different things, and what's "good," "not good," "OK," and "not nice." It's an interesting conversation to be in with a 3 1/2 year old - for me it means sorting out competing ideas about teaching my daughter about the world without limiting her free thought and efforts to sort things out for herself, while at the same time acknowledging that she just doesn't know what these things are yet, so needs some basic categories and definitions.

This morning at breakfast she said, out of the blue, "we don't like war in Iraq, but we like Iraq." (That's a distinction we've made with her - the difference between policies and people, on any side of an issue.) "But soldiers can stop war. They can say 'Stop!'" - and she puts out her hand like a crossing guard - "and they can fight and make it stop!"

Interesting. I think I mentioned the word soldier to her recently. I said soldiers are the people who fight wars, intending to distinguish between the actual people who literally carry guns in the streets of another country, and the American leaders (and electorate) who sent them there. I know we won't sort all of this out at breakfast...

"Well," I said, "the soldiers' job is to fight. And fighting can't make the war stop. When you and your friend Lela both want a toy, and you both grab it and you're fighting over it, does grabbing it and yelling and fighting more make the argument stop?"

"No."

"That's right. The only way to stop fighting is for one of the people fighting to stop and use their words. They can just let go and let the other person have the toy, or they can say 'Let's talk about how to share the toy.' But fighting doesn't make fighting stop."

That sounds right. Maybe not real practical in a geopolitical sense, but who said idealism is always practical?

Then Malia told her that our leaders, our "government" in Washington DC, are the ones who can stop the war.

"They can say 'Stop!'" - another crossing guard hand.

Then I said "And it's our job to tell our leaders what to do - that's something that everybody can do to stop war. Little girls and boys and grownups and old people can all tell our leaders that we want war to stop."

She seemed to like that. She's all about empowerment.

Maybe at dinner tonight I'll tell her about "laying yourself on the gears of the machine" to make it stop, true democracy vs. corporate plutocracy, and the entrenched military-industrial-consumer complex.

Or we might just talk about the cat.

Of buttercups, weddings, and trash hunts

My spirit has taken an upward turn with the start of spring. March brought the first signs: tempertures in the 40's, tiny green shoots emerging from the thawing soil, even crocuses here and there. With April came daffodils and cherry blossoms, and eventually tulips, buttercups, pink willows, hyacinths, and just starting to open now are the dogwoods. For all my angst about the weather in Pennsylvania, I do love spring here - and the dreadful wait that winter imposes makes the reward of spring that much sweeter.

Another highlight of March was participating in Jessica and Manuel's wedding in Sacramento! (We love you, Auntie Sica and Tio Manolo!) Lili'u was their flower girl and she had the time of her life flitting about in her beautiful white dress. She made up her own rules during the ceremony, as most flower girls in the "under five" set are apt to do: she saved the scattering of petals until she was on stage and then resorted to dumping the contents of the basket in a pile behind the bride!


In honor of Earth Day, Lili'u and I invited our good friends Luki, Leela, and baby Isa out on a trash collection walk. We each put on latex gloves and carried a plastic grocery bag. The ground rules: no broken glass and stay on the sidewalk. The girls really got into it. My guess is it was partly the joy of a hunt (like the Easter version they so enjoyed recently) and partly the novelty of getting to pick up yucky things that mommies always tell you not to touch. At one point, Lili'u struck up a conversation with some neighbors, saying "I'm cleaning up the earth! And it's okay because I'm wearing plastic gloves!" After collecting 6-8 bags full of trash, the girls helped us separate out the recyclable items. It was fun seeing their pride and excitement throughout the process.

Sweaters

Earlier this evening, Lili'u and I were sitting on the livingroom floor. We had just come home and I still had my sweater on. She said, "Hey Mama, take your sweater off! We're inside now." I asked her if she could help me. So she unzipped my sweater, pulled it off by the sleeves, and dropped it in a pile next to me. She then proceeded to brush my arms, shoulders, and back with her hands as though dusting something off of me. She said, "I'm brushing the hotness off of you. Sweaters make lots of hotness on you."

Life with young children is noisy. Today was particularly so. My spirit felt cluttered and cranky. My apartment was messy and it took all afternoon and evening to bring any amount of order or calm to it. Now, with Lili'u in bed and Chris out, I have a moment of quiet to myself.

I'm reading The Tao of Motherhood by Vimala McClure. She writes, "Can you find the silence within the noise? Can you feel the peace within the turmoil? If not, withdraw. Make time to turn inward and digest your life."

Digest my life. That's what I need. (Deep breath.)

McClure goes on, "Pay attention to your body's signals. Observe your feelings each day, and eventually you will be able to take time for yourself before it becomes an angry demand. This will enable you to give of yourself appropriately, without resentment. Clear yourself. Find the child within you, heal her, and set her free. As long as the child in you weeps and cringes, your power as a mother will be confused."

Winter is hard on me. I'm so tired of being indoors. I'm tired of being cold. I'm tired of brown, barren trees. I need spring. I need to see a crocus. I need to be able to ride my bike again. I need to breathe fresh air. Thank God next week is March! Thank God we're going to California soon!

"Thanks for the glop."

I made curried coconut lentils last night for dinner. (Joel St. Julien's recipe - so good!) In the past it's been like a stew, but I cooked it a little longer this time and it ended up more like refried beans. Lili'u said our prayer for the meal: "Dear God, thank you for the glop!" Chris and I broke into laughter. We asked her where she'd heard the word "glop," and she reminded us that it's in a book we have called Alvie Eats Soup. She wasn't very keen on trying the glop - we convinced her to have one bite. But she ate lots of brown rice and steamed broccoli, so I'm not complaining.

Dancing Hula

Lili'u and I had some fun yesterday when we pulled out this little hula costume Aunt Julie bought for us in Hawaii a couple years ago. We missed cousin Maya and wished she was here to dance with us!

Maya Hayashida and Lili'u Hayashida-Knight
Hilo, Hawaii
December 2006

"Is God a boy?"

Lili'u is very curious about gender right now. If you've read our previous posts, you may have noticed it. She frequently tries to identify people, animals, and toys as boy or girl. What's great is that she doesn't seem to place any kind of value judgment with it. I think to her it's just a way of organizing the world. She does seem to be picking up on some cultural indicators of gender - like colors, hair length, clothing styles, etc. - but also seems very willing to break with such norms, which is something we encourage.

A few days ago, Lili'u and I were talking about how God takes care of us when we feel hurt or scared. She said "...it's because God loves me," to which I replied, "Yes, he does." She noticed my use of the pronoun 'he' and said, "Is God a boy?" In a split second, my mind raced through years of sunday school, college doctrine classes, and my own reading and experience and I said, "Well, God is a boy AND a girl. Sometimes I say 'he' and sometimes I say 'she.' She thought for a moment and then said, "Sometimes God's a boy! Sometimes God's a girl!" It was such an easy concept for her to embrace.

Then God said, "Let us make human beings in our image and likeness." ...In the image of God she created them. He created them male and female. Genesis 1:26-27