The last of the tulips…
The third variety of tulips we planted last fall has finally bloomed. Isn’t it bright and spring-y and gorgeous?! I am going to be sad to see the tulips fade soon- many have already begun losing their petals. We’ll definitely be adding several more varieties of tulips- and some daffodils, to the flower beds next fall!
Purple Iris
Purple Iris, originally uploaded by Phae.
Years ago my cousin was cleaning out my grandmother’s flower beds and gathered up hundreds of mixed bulbs. I grabbed a bucket full and when we moved in here I planted them in random order. I have been quite pleased to see most of them are gorgeous daffodils or purple iris. I’m also stoked they lived these years without being properly cared for! This is one that bloomed today.
Check out this flower opened all the way up here.
Yellow Makes Me Happy
Our yellow tulips have bloomed! One more variety is just about to bloom. I think they are supposed to be red/orange/yellow. I forget. 
13 years ago, I was dying- and so was my baby.
It had been ten months since a doctor had told me I should never have a baby, that I should have a hysterectomy. I had recently been ill, and without getting into the details- my doctor at the time thought it was risky to chance childbearing. I have always been a bit defiant, and you know I didn’t listen. I ran. I ran from Colorado, where I was living at the time, home to my mommy here in California. On the way, I conceived Michael. I’d wanted a lot for my life, but one thing I couldn’t give up: children.
The pregnancy was uneventful. We waited anxiously, happily- preparing a beautiful blue nursery and enjoying everything. I was in great health, and so was Michael.
I was 37 weeks along, full term, when I began having contractions on St. Patrick’s Day, 13 years ago. I wasn’t scared, I was anxious… I couldn’t wait to hold my son in my arms. I did everything right- I ate my veggies, I exercised, I read all the books. I was ready. I was at peace. I was excited at the possibility of having a St. Patrick’s Day baby.
That evening I was still having contractions a little more than 5 minutes apart, so I decided that I’d take a nice walk to hopefully speed things along. It was gorgeous out. Perfect weather. I was enjoying my walk when I got what was one really long contraction. Never ending. I had to stop and rest while my husband went to go get the car. I wasn’t really worried- but I knew something was strange. I called my grandmother. “Is my belly supposed to be so tight?” I asked. She told me that baby had probably just ran out of room to grow, but to follow my heart. “Mommies know things” she said.
When we got home I felt very tired. I wish I knew then what I know now. I should have never gone to sleep. I should have went to the hospital. But, at the time, my mind was full of all of the stories that new mothers tell: of going to the hospital too early, only to be sent home. I decided to get some rest, knowing I would need my energy. When I look back now, I know that loss of blood had already clouded my thinking. How could I really have just fallen into bed like that, with contractions less than 5 minutes apart? It was time to go! I was just so sleepy.
I laid down around 8pm- bag packed and at the ready. I fell asleep immediately. And then I woke. To an explosion. My water had broken, but it wasn’t the trickle or gush everyone talks about. It was as if my body actually blew up.
I woke in a panic, not knowing what was going on or what to do. I was laying in a pool of my own blood, and it was gushing out with every heartbeat. “Oh. God. Help. Me.” Was all I could think, over and over. We were dying.
We hurried to the car and flew to the hospital, 25 minutes away. Our view through the windshield: Haley’s Comet. As soon as I saw it, I knew we’d be ok, and that Michael would be special. Absolute peace settled over me. I felt my late grandfather’s presence especially- I heard his words in my ears: all will be well. I was probably hallucinating, but it brought so much comfort.
I remember all of the craziness around me through a veil. My husband on his knees praying for our lives, desperate. Doctors and nurses working on me, shouting, people running. The last thing I remember before I woke was my obstetrician riding in bed with me, cleaning my abdomen as we rolled down the hall to operating room- then opening my belly- sedation having not yet taken affect. My baby was dead. He was going to try and save us both at all costs.
When I woke I was paralyzed. I couldn’t open my eyes. I could hear, though. And what I heard should have been horrifying. “He won’t live.” “It’s a miracle she’s still alive.” “If he does live, he’ll be a vegetable.” Nurses talking, unaware of my consciousness. I wasn’t afraid. After everything I knew they were wrong. I wanted to lift my head and tell them so.
As soon as I could I begged to see my baby. It had been four hours since he had been born, and he’d already made a miraculous recovery. In the NICU I was told so many gruesome details: I had a placental abruption. Michael had been born dead. It took 30 minutes to revive him, another 15 to get a APGAR score of 3. He was doing amazingly well, but his prognosis wasn’t good. Everyone was guarded, there was little hope.
Michael spent 5 days in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. In that time he had beat all the odds. He had survived. He could go home.
For weeks and months, and months more- Michael struggled with everything. He cried and cried. He never stopped crying. He didn’t smile or laugh until he was 5 months old. I cried with joy the day a puppy licked his face and he erupted in giggles. I worried he’d never be happy.
Everyone told me this was normal for Michael, that he may always be behind- he may never be “normal”. He had lost too much blood, been deprived of oxygen too long. They told me he’d have cerebral palsy. I was sad, I was worried- I was vigilant. I became obsessed with perfection- I would be the best mom in the world if it meant that he’d be ok, he’d be happy. It would take me some time after his recovery to unlearn some of that. I was young, and helpless in so many other ways.
Then, miraculously, when Michael was 9 months old he skipped crawling and went straight to walking. He began speaking. Speaking! It wasn’t long before I knew, without a doubt, that Michael was indeed special. A gift. My miracle.
I’ll admit- I babied Michael more than my subsequent children. It took me a long time to get over his traumatic beginning. I couldn’t bear the thought of failing him, of failing God, of him ever getting hurt again. I’ve learned since that we all have to get hurt to learn, to love life and cherish it.
Michael is a teenager now. A teenager! Already he’s accomplished so much. He was barely out of preschool before he was at the top of his class. In first grade he was reading at a fourth grade level. Fourth grade he entered a full-time GATE program. Most recently he tested across the board in the 98th percentile of the nation: math, reading, writing, everything. He’s currently attending a science based charter school. He plans to graduate high school early, college as well- and wants to be a writer.
Michael is funny, smart, sweet- a lovely boy who is becoming more and more a man each day. He hates algebra and loves to draw comics. He struggles with some things other kids don’t: he doesn’t understand social cues. He isn’t very coordinated. He is a bit spoiled. And other kids like to pick on him. It’s a daily struggle for him. He loves to be a physical style comedian, but that gets him all the wrong kinds of attention. It’s too bad, really- that the other kids can’t just accept him and enjoy him the way we do. One day, they will.
Michael has a blog, although he’s been grounded from the computer for some time. He’s got to pull up those algebra scores! And here is his flickr set. As you can see, he’s always having the time of his life. I’m just so glad he has time. 
Cocoa the Catahoulagan
Even Cocoa gets camera shy. This is her, “I don’t wanna” look. Which she also gets when it’s time for flea treatments, time to come in from outside or when we take away something she’s chewing up.
Cocoa will be 5 months this week and she’s growing so fast! She’s nearly doubled her height since coming to live with us a month ago. Cocoa has begun to lose her super sharp baby teeth. (Hooray!)
Cocoa has even learned a few tricks. She can: Sit. Stay. Come. Bring it here. Drop it. Lay Down. Get Down. And, Get Up! But her all time favorite activity is getting into mischief. She is a master thief. Cocoa always has a pile of toys, socks, paper towels and other things that do not belong to her nearby.
We are super happy with our new family member. She’s protective and funny and sweet and smart. I would definitely recommend a Catahoula to any family with lot’s of patience, energy, love to give & room to run. She’s the most people shy of the five dogs on the property- which lends her well to protecting our property and persons. But she also has great natural hunting instincts- which could be useful for a hobbyist, or great fun- can you say hide-and-go-seek? The kids absolutely love her.
You can see lot’s more pictures of Cocoa here. And just for fun, you can follow Cocoa on twitter. Mind you, Cocoa has to share twitter with her alpha and her alpha likes twitter a lot.
Bright Lights Swiss Chard
Such a gorgeous plant! And tasty too! This baby was planted two weeks ago in our vegetable garden.
Today we spent quite a bit of time in our various gardens. We planted more strawberries as well as various pepper plants in the edible garden. I planted a flat of Dragon’s Blood Sedum ground cover around and about. We planted six bushes: Gardenias, Spanish Lavender & Abelia Kaleidescope in the front flower gardens.
Most notably, we planted a Flame Maple tree in honor of my late Uncle Mike. It will be a beautiful tree- one day reaching as high as 50 feet tall, and displaying bright red leaves throughout the fall and much of winter. I look forward to watching it grow and enjoying it’s shade.
And now, I’m tired. Oh! But in case you are interested, I though I’d link you to my gardening photo set over at flickr. Enjoy!
Surprise Daffodil
Guess I didn’t get all the bulbs out of this pot before planting the cactus our neighbors gave us!
Name This Tree!
We love our big shade tree, but we have no idea what it is. It’s blooming right now and the blooms are most unusual. Anybody have any idea what kind of tree this is?
More info: we live in Central California. There are many divided trunks on the base of this tree. They split off at ground level. The foliage during the spring and summer is very green and lush. It all turns yellow and falls in fall. It is only now beginning to bloom and leaf out again. It is about 30′ tall. Any guesses?
I <3 Spring!
Yesterday an iris, today the peach tree- everything is blooming! It makes me happy to see the plants around me awaken from their winter slumber.. and it serves as a reminder: it’s time to get back out and enjoy the beauty of this world again! I tend to hibernate the winter away, like so much flora and fauna.
The mature pomegranate trees next door are in full bloom, they look so magnificent that it makes me anxious for the day when our baby trees grow up.
Speaking of trees growing up- check out my flickr stream if you are interested to see our baby apricots! I’m so excited, our first fruit from our very own mini-orchard!
Happy Spring!
My tulips are blooming!!
I’m so very excited! I’ve tried to grow tulips a few times but alas, this isn’t the best place for them. This go around I’m having luck though- all 45 bulbs have come up, and 1/3 are blooming!
What I Want
