Thursday, October 31, 2013

Welcome the Fall/ Witches' New Year

Category: Recycled Poetry
Journals:  VOICE and Kavi's Book of Stars
Dates:  10-16-2012 and 10-31-2013



Welcome the Fall
(2012)

Mother Nature shows us the most majestic ways of death.
There’s no flood of tears to blur the beauty of the release…
Only a graceful letting go of dried up dreams in warmer colors.
There’s no painful screams to drown out the presence of the Fall…
Only whispers of wind to carry life scuffling along with new meaning.

She watches us too…in all our stubborn refusal of becoming.
Are we as frustrating as we feel, or does She share a similar awe?
Perhaps, in our Mother’s eyes, we are goldening in a fiery display...
Giving birth to new life in the midst of our own dying Autumn.
We stand our ground in the cold that surrounds us, warming what waits within.

We are aging together, side by side, like old friends.
She in her glory and we in our agony, reflections of each other.
We learn from each other our own catharsis, our own liberation,
And we let the old self go--in our own understanding of change…
Turning in season, we honor the harvest and welcome the Fall.


Witches' New Year
(2013)


The fire flush of Autumn
that signals Summer’s End
sets her affairs in order
to join her icy friend.

The Winter Witch is stirring,
As if a cauldron brews
The coldest winds awaiting,
and she transforms anew.

The flames of fall to ashes
In bonfires after dusk,
And bones are chilled to rattling
While drums beat dust to dust.

Ancestors, can you hear it?
The Dark Moon calls you here
Amongst the grateful living
For death is not to fear.

The sounds resound to tribute
The mortal song of all.
Whether in flesh or spirit,
We celebrate the Fall.

And as we gather warmly,
Remembering the past,
We gaze ahead in starlight
At what may come to pass.

The time shall turn to no time;
Two months of inward quest.
For slowing pace we’re thankful;
For friends and family, blessed.

So shall the feasts of Winter,
In joyful gatherings,
Be fortunate and fruitful
To deliver us to Spring.

Disguises guide our loved ones
Between the veil that thins.
Whether in flesh or spirit,
We celebrate Samhain.

Tuesday, September 3, 2013

The One that Flew Away

Category:  Recycled Visions
Journals:  The 2004 Venusian Octave (Music of the Spheres), Cup of Kavi
Dates:  11-24-2004, 9-3-2013


I just woke up from my worst nightmare. 

I was happily pregnant.  But after going to the bathroom, I saw blood.  My first instinct, after telling my husband, was to call my parents.  When I called them, my mom told me that Karen, my sister-in-law, had to go back to the hospital.  They think they’re having their baby soon.  I had been waiting for baby Bryce to be born so that I could tell my family we were pregnant afterwards.  We wanted Bryce to get all the attention he deserved.  He was their first baby.  The first grandson for my parents.

Earlier that day I saw a female hummingbird in our flowerbed, drinking nectar from our pink lantanas.  She’s one of my primary totems, the totem of infinite joy and illumination.  I had been very happy to see her.  When my Aunt Kathy heard that I had seen one, she told me she just talked to my parents and that I should ask them about their own Hummingbird story.

So, on the phone with my parents, I asked them about the Hummingbird.  My dad told me that a few hours ago he was outside and he saw a female hummingbird lying on the ground.  She was flapping her wings a little, but she couldn’t seem to get up and fly.  He took her in his hand and went inside to show my mom.  Then he brought the hummingbird back outside and she flew away.

I told him I saw Hummingbird a few hours before that.  For both of us, it was the first Hummingbird we’ve seen in our yards all year.

Then I told them what I was worried about.  I told them about the blood.  I told them about the week-long cramping a few weeks ago.  I told them I was scared that I was about to miscarry our baby.

They told me I should get some sleep and see the doctor tomorrow morning,  They told me they love me and they hope everything turns out okay.

After saying good night, I knew the night would be far from good.  I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep.  Michael suggested we go to the ER.  He woke up Alyrica around midnight and dropped her off at his mom’s house.  When he came back for me, we went to the hospital.  On the way there, I began cramping again.  It was coming in waves of pain from a few sharp stabs to a long dull ache.

When we got to the front desk, the lady asked what was wrong.  I said, ‘I’m pregnant.’  Then, through a flood of tears, I forced out the words, ‘but I’m bleeding and cramping.’

They brought me to a room and had me change into a gown and lie down on a bed.  The TV was on.  It was playing ‘The Office’.  The whole scene that played out was about a woman who was pregnant and about to go into labor but was trying to get her co-workers to distract her.  She was avoiding going to the hospital, and the father of her baby was worried.  Just another reminder that I should have gotten checked out sooner.  Especially before I started telling our friends that we were pregnant.

Nurse Natalie came in to set up an IV.  She was beautiful, Lebanese, and very sweet…but like every nurse ever since I can remember, she couldn’t find a vein and had to poke me multiple times before giving up and finding someone else to do it.  It’s why I don’t like needles.  Nurse Jean came in and tried.  She didn’t look as sweet as Natalie.  She had permanently pursed lips with frown lines and a deep wrinkle of irritation between her brows.  I asked her why it was so hard to find my veins.  She said it was because I have freckles and pale skin.

Finally she got the IV in.  A young male doctor and another nurse came in to ask me the same questions two others had already asked me.  Then they had me scoot down in the bed for a pelvic exam, which made the cramps worse.

Even with Michael by my side, holding my hand…I had trouble focusing on anything but the pain inside me.  When I focused on anything outside of my body, it was always on something that looked like it was straight out of a nightmare.  I’ve never been comfortable in hospitals.  I couldn’t look at my husband because I didn’t want to see his fear or let him see mine.  I focused, instead, on some metal claw-like thing hanging almost directly over my head…or on the boxes of blue nitrile gloves…or the harsh lights above me.

After the pelvic exam, the doctor asked if I was okay with having them insert a catheter.  I asked why.  He said so they could drain the urine from my bladder to take a sample for testing.  I asked if it hurts.  He said it stings a little.  I said no, I’d rather just pee in a cup.

After they left, another guy comes in and asks if I need to go pee.  I said yes.  Then he left.  It was all very confusing, so Michael helped me out of the bed so we could find a bathroom.  There was blood on the white sheets.

With Michael’s help, I walked out of my room slowly while holding my gown closed in the back.  Everyone looked at me strangely, like I had done something wrong.  The guy who was just in our room rushed over.  ‘Do you need something?’  I said ‘I thought I was supposed to go to the bathroom.’  He brought us back in the room saying, ‘Just wait here and someone will come to take you.  Just stay in the bed.’

I had some trouble getting back into the bed.  Once I did, he left.  It was a while before anyone else came in.  On the TV now it was ‘America’s Funniest Home Videos’.  Alyrica loves that show.  I thought of her laughing.  I was watching clips of little kids doing funny things, but I couldn’t laugh.  Even if it could’ve made me laugh, it would hurt.  I couldn’t even cough or blow my nose.  I had to just lie there, clutching my lower abdomen, while I watched the audience laugh.

A lady came in and told us we were going to get an ultrasound.  She wheeled my bed through the halls.  Everything was lights and ceiling tiles, doors and signs.  When we got there, there was a woman in red scrubs with an owl on the left of her chest.  I asked her name but she didn’t answer me.  I hoped that she would be nice like all the others I knew with Owl totems.  I have an Owl totem myself, and I wanted to feel some kind of kinship with this lady because of it.  It didn’t happen.  She was cold and seemed uncaring.  She quickly lifted my gown and began jabbing me with the ultrasound wand.  It hurt a lot.  She seemed impatient.  She said my bladder wasn’t full enough and she couldn’t get a good read.  She brought me some water to drink and said I needed to keep drinking as much as I could and she would be back to check on me.  I asked her name again.  She said, ‘Linda’.  I asked how long this would take and she said probably another hour.  Then she left.  I drank the first glass of water.  Then I started cramping really hard.  I was in a lot of pain and Michael got scared.  When it calmed down, I started drinking another glass.  Then they started again.  I was moaning loudly.  We were all alone in the ultrasound room.  Linda was gone.  Michael went to go look for her.

While they were gone I said prayers into my water.  I drank in the prayers.  They came back and finally had someone take us back to the ER.  Nurse Natalie hooked me up to some fluids in my IV to fill my bladder faster.  She asked if this was my first pregnancy.  I told her I have a daughter who will be 8 in January.  She asked if this was a planned pregnancy.  I said ‘Yes.  We had been trying for over two years.’  I started to cry, thinking about all of the failed attempts and all of the effort and love and intent we had been putting into this for so many years now.  Natalie said, ‘I’m sorry.  If it makes you feel any better, I’ve been trying for 6 years.’  No, it didn’t really make me feel better to know that.  I know how painful each month can be in those times.  It’s sad to think of so many women having to go through the same disappointments, questioning themselves over and over again, wondering what’s wrong with them.  The cramps started taking control again.

Natalie gave me a pain pill.  I asked her if I had to take it, because I don’t usually take pills for pain.  She said I didn’t have to but she suggested I should.  So I did, because everything that had been done already was against the natural way that I had hoped for with this pregnancy…from the fear to the ultrasound…I didn’t feel I could fight it.  I was in foreign territory.

The pain didn’t subside.  It became constant.  Michael had to leave, then, to go to the bathroom.  When he left, I felt blood begin to flow between my legs.  I heard pieces of the words of my 22-year-old self, and I had a vision of Phoenix burning to ashes.

Bird of the Soul (2004)
The symbolism of the caged bird appears in much of women's literature. And each time I encounter it in writing, my insides twist up a bit and my throat gets tight with emotional tension.

I've always felt the wings of my words like they were caged in my ribs...thumping out their message with my heartbeat as their rhythm. And this phoenix within me cannot be forced through my voice and out of my mouth, her wings are much too large. Instead she has found solace in the openness of my mind, where she can fly to the highest heights and across the boundless seas of a world that exists only in my perception. And though she was once a gypsy spirit, she has found a home with me.

And with her in mind, I can write like the wind. She knows not how to write, or speak in language discernable to ears, but she knows what she knows...and it's so much more than I have ever learned myself. Her stories, her poetry, her birdsongs...I translate them through to my fingertips. And there, in writing, lies my soul.”

Phoenix left me then in a rush of blood.  A feeling of peace came over me.  It was sad, but there was a promise in it.  After all, Phoenix is a symbol of rebirth.

Michael returned to the room to find me still staring to the left of the ceiling, where I saw what I saw.  He said, ‘It’s freezing in here.’  I looked to him and said, ‘It was the baby.’  He almost asked for clarification until it dawned on him what it meant.  His face contorted with sadness, feeling the reality of the loss.  We held each other for a while.  Then he helped me clean up some of the blood.

Nurse Natalie came back in to check on me.  She asked if I felt like my bladder was full.  I said ‘I think so.  I can’t tell because there’s so much blood, and the cramps, I’m having trouble understanding what my body is doing right now.’  She said she would come back in a few minutes to unhook the fluids and have someone bring me back down to the ultrasound room. 

We were there for a long time, just eye gazing…not knowing what else to say besides ‘I love you.’  Finally I could tell my bladder was really full.  I felt like I was going to pee the bed.  The fluid in the drip was nearly empty.  Michael went out to get someone. 

Natalie unhooked me and a man named Chris came to take us back to Linda.  When we got there, the place was completely empty.  He couldn’t find Linda anywhere.  He apologized many times.  I told him it was okay, it was over anyway.  He didn’t say anything more after that.  He just brought me back up to our room and went to go find Linda.  Michael went to find Natalie.  The TV had a white-haired evangelist on it reading scripture from the bible about death.  When Michael came back, I told him to change the channel because it was too sad.  He changed it to the weather.  Bright skies and sunny days ahead.  I knew I wouldn’t be seeing much of that weather for a while.

Another lady came in to bring us back to the ultrasound room again.  I was beginning to be able to predict which signs I would see next and how many bumps we would go over before we would be back in the same ultrasound room. 

In the room, Linda went through the same procedure.  Michael told her that it hurt me when she pressed really hard.  I’m sure she already knew.  She did what she did anyway.  I was a little more numb by then already…so I forgave her silently.

It took longer than I had hoped.  Each time she pressed, I felt like my bladder was going to explode.  When she finally finished with the first of the ultrasounds, she and Michael helped me off the bed and into the bathroom.  When I lifted my gown, my thighs were washed with blood.  I peed into the cup for the urine sample, and I kept on going.  It was the longest pee I’ve ever had in one sitting.  Each time we thought it was just about over, it just kept going.  When it was over, Michael handed me some wet paper towels to clean myself off.

When we went back in the room, they had to help me up on top of the bed which now had a strange pillow in the middle to prop me up for the next ultrasound.  Linda had me put a wand inside me this time.  Then she moved it all around to take the next series of pictures…this hurt even more than when she was pressing on my belly.

After all of that, she wheeled me out to the hall where we waited for someone to take us back.  An African-American woman was wheeled into the hall then as well.  She said, ‘Hi.’  I said, ‘How are you?’  ‘Terrible.’  She said.  ‘Me too.’  I replied, hoping she was not going through the same thing I was.  She said, ‘It’s okay.  We’ll get through this together as a unit.’  Then we were wheeled away.  As my bed passed hers, I held my hand up to reach out to her and she grabbed it.  Her hand was shaking.  I felt her fear.  And then we were gone, down the long hall again and back into the Emergency Room.

I was thinking about her all the way back to the room.  She was all alone, no husband there beside her to hold her hand and tell her he loved her and that everything would be okay.  We were going to get through this together as a unit, but I didn’t even know her name.  I knew I probably wouldn’t even see her again.  I hoped everything would turn out better for her than it had for us.

They told us it would take a while to get the results back from the ultrasound.  Michael and I waited for a while.  He started to fall asleep in the chair next to my bed.  His head was hanging over the rail and I was stroking his hair.  After a while, I woke him up and asked him if he would get in the bed with me so we could fall asleep together.  He did, and though it was really only big enough for one person…I told him to just melt into me.  We made it work, and it was the first time in the 6 hours we were there that felt comfortable to us.  He fell asleep spooning me.  I tried to sleep too…but was only going in and out.

Finally the young doctor came in.  He sat down in front of me at the side of my bed.  Michael was waking up, but still in a sleepy stupor.  He told me afterwards that it was like waking up from a nightmare into a nightmare.  The doctor told us that it was likely that we had a miscarriage.  He said there’s still a chance, but a small one.  I told him calmly, ‘It’s okay.  I already know.  The baby’s gone.’  There was a subtlety in the expression of his eyes that confirmed to me he, and everyone else, knew it too.  He was afraid to tell me when he walked in, because I had been crying and very sad the whole time about what was happening.  He didn’t want me to lose it again.  But I didn’t.  It had been understood for hours already.  I had felt it happen, after all.  I had already reached the point of acceptance, though it still hurt deep down.

The doctor said we need to schedule a follow up to do the same tests again in two days.  I agreed, though I dreaded coming back for the same procedures that left me feeling somewhat violated and empty.  The doctor asked if we had any questions for him.  I asked him if I was going to be able to teach my class at 4:30pm.  He said it depends on how I’m feeling, but probably not.  I asked him when we could try again to have a child.  He said probably after my next period.  Michael asked him the question that had been on both of our minds, ‘Why did this happen?  Was there anything we could have done to prevent this?’  The doctor replied, ‘You didn’t do anything wrong.  Most times it’s a chromosomal imbalance and this is just the body’s way of flushing out an unhealthy pregnancy.  It’s not anyone’s fault.  These things just happen.’

Nurse Natalie came back in to take out the IV after the doctor said goodbye.  I told her I hope that she is able to conceive soon.  She thanked me, and we left.

On the way home, we saw the sliver of the waning crescent moon.  It was a reminder of endings that ushered in new beginnings.

When we got home, I started feeling sick.  I opened the car door and my vision started to blur.  The sounds of the morning started to cut out and were replaced by a loud draining sound, like water rushing through pipes.  I fell to my knees on the grass before Michael could come around to catch me.  I felt the morning dew on my legs and put my head down to try to stop myself from passing out.  Michael wanted me to get back in the car so he could take me back to the hospital.  I refused.  I told him I had to get in our bed.  He helped me up and I started to walk toward our stairs.  Everything was starting to feel very heavy.  The sounds around us were still muffled in my ears by the loud rushing sound.  The morning grew darker as I climbed the stairs with Michael’s help.  I was determined to get to my bed.  I started to see what looked like a black hole in front of me.  I got to the top of the stairs, feeling dizzy.  I knew I was about to faint but couldn’t talk.  Michael fumbled with the keys and finally got the door open.  He caught me as I started to fall again to my knees.  My right knee hit the concrete of the stairs and our cats flooded out of our door, passing by me to get outside.  I blacked out for a moment.  When I came back, Michael was pulling me up and inside.  I started walking down the hall to our bedroom as fast as I could…the sound in my ears was terribly loud and I knew I had to lay down to make it stop.  I got to the bed and Michael helped me take off my shoes and my clothes.  He covered me up and got me some water.  I remember asking him to call John to see if he could substitute for my class.  I don’t remember much after that, I went right to sleep once Michael started making calls.

When I woke up, it was the afternoon.  That was the worst nightmare I’d ever had, I thought.  I got up to go to the bathroom and noticed the bandages on my arm and the hospital bracelets.  Reality set in.  It wasn’t a nightmare.  It was real.

Monday, August 26, 2013

Kavi's Vivid Dream Journeys: Speaker for the Soul

Category:  Recycled Visions
Journal:  Dream Journal
Date:  8-25/26-2013


Aug 25-26 Dream:  Speaker for the Soul

I had been called upon to perform a soul release ceremony for four young adults who died in a car crash.  I am not sure who set it up for me to do this, because all of the families involved seemed very confused and, at first, a bit leery of what it was that I was supposed to be doing.  “Perhaps it was the souls, themselves, that moved me into this position?”  I remember thinking to myself while talking with the families and understanding that they had no idea what it was I did.  “So, you’re like a Speaker for the Dead?”  A brother of one of the deceased asked after I told them it wasn’t going to be your typical funeral service.  “It’s similar, I suppose.  But I’m more like a Speaker for the Soul.  The soul lives on.  Death is of the body.”

I began asking the families about different images and messages that kept coming up about each of the four who had passed.  In medicine wheel formation, four totems spoke up for me to translate to the living:  Butterfly in the East, Rattlesnake in the South, Swan in the West, and Tortoise in the North.

I decided to start with Butterfly, who spoke to my own Butterfly totem.  “Who would be the one who was very colorful and underwent a significant transformation in their life?”  A father and mother looked at each other.  The mother’s eyes watered and she covered her mouth, so the father spoke up.  “That was our daughter, Chloe.  She was our artist, always painting colorful flowers.  She always said her favorite color was ‘rainbow’.  There was a difficult time in her life when she was addicted to drugs, we felt like we didn’t know her anymore…like she was a completely different person, or…like she wasn’t even there anymore.  But she got clean, about a year ago, and the change was very significant.  She was absolutely vibrant afterwards, still the little girl we raised…but also this beautiful young woman we were just meeting for the first time.  We were so proud of her.”  He choked up and tried to hold back a flood of emotions.

“Does it make sense to you that she would speak to me as a Butterfly?”  I asked.  The mother looked at me with wide eyes.  “I used to call her my Flutterby when she was a little girl.  She was always flitting from flower to flower in my garden, touching each one with her finger.  It was so precious.  The butterflies seemed to love her.  When I see them in my garden, I always think of her.”

I nodded.  “There was another who went through a significant transformation, but wouldn’t be described as colorful.  Someone who physically blended in with their surroundings but could command attention with their voice?”

“That sounds like Hunter.”  A young mother holding a toddler said.  “He joined the Marines after he graduated from high school.  He served two tours battling insurgents and protecting Iraqis in the war.  It was constant fighting.  He was suffering from post-traumatic stress.  He couldn’t sleep, he was depressed, and he began drinking more heavily.  All of his initial requests for help were ignored.  He decided to give up on seeking help.  He watched other Marines around him behave like zombies on their medication, some of his friends had committed suicide.  He didn’t want to become like them.  He told me he had to keep our baby, Hope, in mind when he would feel himself slipping.  Then somewhere along the lines, he began using marijuana because it was the only thing that helped him relax.  Shortly after, he failed a surprise drug test and was discharged without honors.  He appealed, after his release, and they eventually changed it to an honorable discharge after determining that his plea for help had been ignored.  Even still, he was battling his personal demons at home.  He refused help at first.  He was so angry.  He’d be very quiet for long periods of time…but then something would set him off and he would lash out verbally.  He never hurt us physically…but he would yell a lot.  I felt like he didn’t want me around him.  He would hibernate in his room in the basement, and I would just take care of Hope.  For a while, it felt like he never really came home…there was just a ghost of him living in our basement.  I was afraid to talk to him most times because I didn’t want him to snap at me.  One night, I did go downstairs to tell him that Hope said her first word.  I thought he’d be happy to hear that she said ‘Dada’.  I saw him sitting there in his chair with his gun in his mouth.  It scared me and I screamed at him.  He came to me and held me on the stairs.  He agreed that he needed help.  It was the first time we’d really talked since he was home.  It was the first time I felt him again.  He did get help after that.  They found that he had suffered a brain injury as a repercussion of a bomb exploding.  They treated him for that.  And he went to therapy to work though some of the things he saw while in Iraq.  He was starting to get better.  He was better.  And now he’s gone.”

“It’s Rattlesnake who speaks for him.”  I told her as the rest of her family huddled around her while she sobbed.  The father nodded.  “My boy loved snakes.  He could tell you anything you wanted to know about them.  He’s been catching them since he was a kid.  Always made us laugh that his mother was so afraid of them.”

“And who would be the graceful, intuitive one?  Someone who was very emotionally in tune with others, and perhaps had musical talent?”  I asked.

“That was Bridget Grace, my daughter.”  A woman holding a white veil in her hands spoke up.  “This was my veil when I married her father, and she was going to wear it at her wedding.  Liam, the one who was driving, had recently asked her to marry him…and they were on their way home after taking Chloe and Hunter out to dinner to tell them the good news.  Chloe was going to be her maid of honor, and Hunter was going to be the best man.  I was so happy for Bridget; she’s been in love with Liam since they were teenagers.  They were such a cute couple.  She wrote a lot of love songs about him.  She was going to sing one she had just wrote at their wedding.  The last time I talked with her, she sang it to me.  It was so beautiful, it made me cry.”

“She comes to me as a Swan.”  I said.  “Yes.  That’s her.”  Her mother replied with a sad smile.  “She also played the violin.  She has a swan feather attached to her bow.”

“And the Tortoise must be Liam.  Was he a very patient, peaceful person?”  I asked.

“Yes.  He was very thoughtful; focused.  He never rushed into anything.  He had been planning out his life with Bridget since he first met her.”  Liam’s brother answered.  “I would always try to push him to make bigger moves, but he knew what he was doing.  He couldn’t be rushed.  He meant to have his whole life secure before he popped the question.  He just bought a house, and that was the last step he meant to make before asking Bridget to be his wife.  He had everything together, always, more than anyone I ever knew.  He was so wise and careful, I thought he would outlive us all.”

“He was very much like a tortoise.”  His mother added.  “He was our rock.  Always so grounded.  The most trustworthy person, it’s hard to believe anything could happen to them with him behind the wheel.”

“It was an accident, honey.”  Her husband hugged her while she cried into his chest.

“What will you do in this ceremony?”  The brother asked me.

“I’m here to guide their souls into the afterlife.”  I told them.  “And to help you all to grieve and release.  The ceremony is as much a celebration of their lives here with all of you as it is an initiation into their next journey.”



Thursday, January 3, 2013

States of Alyrica: 70 Quotes Before Age 7


Category: Memory Collection
Journal:  Facebook Notes
Date:  Began on 12-18-09


States of Alyrica:  
70 Quotes Before Age 7

Alyrica has a lot to say.  It may not all make sense right now, but then...she gets that from her mother.



1.  "Where's my Beebo? There it is! It's in the belly pocket." (7-29-09)
2.  "He jumped into the night!" (10-26-09)
3.  "You've got strong eyebrows." (10-30-09)
4.  "I can't wear YOUR arms. Your arms are TOO long. I might trip on YOUR arms." (11-28-09)
5.  "I don't like that dirty banana." (11-29-09)
6.  "Your socks look just like my life." (12-09-09)
7.  "May. You. Get. A. Robot. Ballerina. Food?" (12-17-09)
8.  "Your hair is all eerie." (12-20-09)
9.  "The spit in my mouth got so gooey when you turned that water on." (12-23-09)
10.  "The big girl taking a bath...she's a fish." (12-23-09)
11.  "My leg goes all the way to my butt!" (12-23-09)
12.  "If you eat my skin, there will be some bones talking to you." (1-3-2010)
13.  "Mama put me all caked!" (1-5-2010)
14.  "Oh my MOM!" (1-28-10)
15.  "Mom, do you love kickin' butts?" (2-8-10)
16.  "You're my special good friend, guys. You're my buddies." (2-13-10)
17.  "May I run up and down the hallway so I can air out my little butty?" (2-19-10)
18.  "I was dancing my teeth." (4-1-10)
19.  "I'm gonna be a pizza!" (4-1-10)
20.  "I don't wanna cuddle, it's not my time!" (4-22-10)
21.  "Don't be a Badland...be a good land! Don't be pointy hills...just be grass." (6-3-10)
22.  Sleepy Lyra:  "What're you doing?" Mama: "Wakin' your butt up."  Sleepy Lyra:  "Maybe my butt needs some privacy sleeping." (6-22-10)
23.  "My snot just took my dreams away again." (7-3-10)
24.  "Now eat my foot.  It's not stinky...it's a radish." (7-24-10)
25.  "I have sleeping arms." (8-20-10)
26.  "Wow!  I sure did poop!  That's a big ol' poop!" (8-21-10)
27.  "You've got a case of the sick conga line." (8-30-10)
28.  "I always thought that if I eat poop, then I would turn into a poop." (9-2-10)
29.  "You squeezed the pee outta me." (9-4-10)
30.  "Maybe it was fartaroni." (9-18-10)
31.  Lyra:  "His name is Chip because his butt looks like a chocolate chip.  Mama:  "What about this one?  His butt looks like a butterscotch chip."  Lyra:  "His name is Dale."  (9-19-10)
32.  "Michael!  Look at my belly!"  (11-5-10)
33.  Mama: "We don't hit. It's not okay to hit anyone."  Lyra: "But it IS okay for me to punch Uncle Jared...especially when he's not looking...Uncle Jared is the only one I can hit."  Mama: "Well...yeah, I guess that's all right. But nobody else." (11-6-10)
34.  "I flew him away like the west wind...like Zephyr."  (11-7-10)
35.  "My pits are closed now." (12-13-10)
36.  "Hey guys!  Good news!  My tummy doesn't hurt anymore because I pooped!" (12-26-10)
37.  "Zephyr!  Don't lick your butt!  It doesn't taste very good!" (12-30-10)
38.  Cuddly Mama: "How'd you get so sweet?  Were you always this sweet?"  Cuddly Lyra:  "Uh-huh...like Peaches." (1-19-11)
39.  "That sound looks beautiful, Mama." (1-26-11)
40.  "It's pretty warm in your hands.  Can my feet stay there through the night?" (1-31-11)
41.  Lyra, after her first drink of Root Beer:  "I burped!"  Mike:  "Did it taste like root beer?"  Lyra:  "YEAH!" (2-8-11)
42.  "What a static fuzz I am!" (2-9-11)
43.  "My butt is a full moon that got cut down the middle." (2-13-11)
44.  "Excuse me.  I farted a bubble." (2-18-11)
45.  (Lyra to Mike) "You're a fart alec!" (3-1-11)
46.  "Zenya is a cutie too.  She's actually precious." (3-1-11)
47.  "Uncle Jared is just like a whack-a-mole." (3-21-11)
48.  "I wish I had a pink mohawk." (3-21-11)
49.  "I'm gonna get that invisible ninja!" (4-11-11)
50.  (With 'cowgirl' accent) "Livin' on the farm is soooooooo piggy!", "I been doin' it!  For 'bouta HUUUUUNdred years, I been doin' it!", and "Yeeee HAW!  Weee-hoo-shh...a baba!" (Spring 2011)
51.  (Lyra, to Mike) "You look...just like an ordinary dad." (6-24-11)
52.  (After we had to explain what 'granny panties' were...) "And Michael, you wear daddy panties.  And Zeph...he wears fuzz panties." (6-24-11)
53.  Lyra (as Snowflake, her stuffed kitty, after hiding in Mike's shirt):  "Hey, what's the worst thing about bein' in a guy's shirt?  It's too hairy for a cat!" (7-4-11)
54.  Lyra:  "What're you doing?"  Mama:  "Having a sore neck.  What're you doing?  Having a snotty nose?"  Lyra:  "Yep.  Bein' Snot-a-rilla." (7-6-11)
55.  "Ah want to pleh with mah monkehs." (7-7-11)
56.  "I have a food moustache. (Dramatic pause)  I ate it." (7-8-11)
57.  "Silly punk!" (7-9-11)
58.  "...because you are a Dorcas Queen!" (7-9-11)
59.  Mama (with Mike, as he turns off Alyrica's light): "Okay.  Good-night.  I love you."  Lyra:  "I love you too, you dorcasies!" (7-9-11)
60.  "That stinkness is freakin' out my nose!" (7-25-11)
61.  "A jungle gym is what you are, but your name is just Mike." (7-25-11)
62.  "I peed hot pee today!" (9-17-11)
63.  "Ani was whackin' Zephyr!" (9-17-11)
64.  Lyra:  "Can you get me a butt-smeller so I can smell my own stinkness?" Mama: "No."  Lyra: "Why?" (Fall '11)
65.  "The cat food bag makes cats think they are in a food wonderland." (Fall '11)
66.  "That yucked me out!" (12-7-11)
67.  Lyra:  "I'm a spirit."  Mama: "What kind of spirit are you?"  Lyra: "I'm the spirit that makes your mind work and makes your eyes see." (12-22-11)
68.  "Hello.  My name is Doo Hickey.  I like to make music."  (12-29-11)
69.  While driving by a curious Christmas display in my hometown, Alyrica muses:  "Those people just like to take care of their plastic Jesus, so they put a plastic tent on him!" (1-1-12)
70.  I told Michael I was invited to a women-only hot tub party. Then Alyrica said to him, "Daddy, maybe you can have an all-men's sausage party." *hysterical laughter ensued from my husband and me, especially me* Then Michael said, "Well, I hope not." Alyrica said, "Why?" Michael responded, "Uhhhhh..." (We realized afterwards, she thought I was invited to a 'hot dog party').  (5-9-12)