Each Inch

Be more perfect

2012-01-16T21:22:00.004-05:00

Last year, I had 3 New Year's Resolutions: wear nicer clothes, have more fun with my kids and send birthday cards.

I'd say the results are mixed. Because I don't need to "dress office" for my job and because I'm naturally a very causal person, and because I'm busy and I because I dress for comfort and convenience more than anything... you get the picture... for all these reasons, my daily wardrobe isn't always particularly polished. As a result of my resolution, I wouldn't say I started wearing nicer clothes, but I did start thinking more about the clothes I wear, and spending more time putting myself together.

It may sound completely ridiculous, but through this effort, I discovered the magic of "mom sweat pants." These are soft pants that might as well be pajamas but that look pulled together enough to wear in public! Now I have a comfortable alternative to the usual jeans. Honestly, this is not as depressing as it sounds.

Also, I realized that I'm really just not a spend-a-lot-of -time getting ready for the day kindof person. For all these reasons, I'm going to go ahead and call resolution #1 a success.

Resolution #2, have more fun with my kids, was kindof a weird one. I must have been feeling low when I conceived it because I already have lots of fun with my kids. I didn't really need to be reminded. Sure, I'm frazzled and grouchy sometimes, but in general, we do lots of activities together and make plenty of time for fun. Maybe a year ago I we weren't doing that as much. Maybe the resoultion was so successful that I've forgotten how things even were before. In any case, we're all good now.

The final resolution, send birthday cards, is a total joke. I didn't send a single one. I would love to, but somehow I can't seem to get the card, the correct date, the message and the postage in the same place at the same time early enough to get it into the mail within a reasonable window to get to the intended recipient on or around their actual birthday. Usually, I plan big, miss my window, watch the birthday come and go, and then spend a week feeling bad that I couldn't get it together but knowing that it's too late. Grrr.

I would say that I'll just focus on that as my resolution for 2012 but it seem kindof silly to do a repeat. And I was thinking about resolutions in general. Some people hate them. I don't mind thm at all, but for some reason, this year I can't pick. I want to do them all- which in practical terms means that I'll have none. Resolutions are about being better.

I want to be more organized, more friendly, more fun, more witty, cook more, cook better, have an always clean house, make more money, be more patient, be gentler, be a better friend, work harder, do a better job, dazzle more often, be always on time, be more available, be less distracted, calmer, less afraid, more sure, better prepared.

I want to be more perfect. At everything.

And so my resolution is to chip away at that, little by little. Be a better me, one day at a time.

Out with the old

2011-12-30T09:58:00.003-05:00

I still remember soon after turning 30, walking down a snowy road in Gliwice, Poland. It was early 2001 and I walked arm in arm with the Beast, straight into the future. The only thing that I knew about 2001 was that the end would be entirely different from the beginning and on that snowy walk, I decided that discovering what was to come would be an adventure rather than something to fear.

And indeed, 2001 unfolded into the life I had been impatiently waiting for. Before the year was up, I was living in DC; the Beast and I got married; I was pregnant; I had an awesome job teaching English- I loved riding the metro to work every day. In 2002, things just kept getting better, my daughter was born; I bought a house; I became a professor.

But of course, change is not always happy and exciting and life unfolds as it will. One of the great things about being in school is that it has allowed me to live fully in the inbetween. There are many decisions I have not had to make because "I'm in school." and "I'll wait til I'm done with school to figure that out." But eventually things will have to change and decisions will have to be made.

Right now we live, squished into a few rooms of our house, barely able to afford it even with the house mates and definitely not able to afford to rent another place. With my job, I am rich in time with my children; we are lucky to have fantastic health insurance; I am happy to go to work everyday... but... but... I guess you could say that my salary would be considered a good second salary by the standards of the DC metro region. And for us, it's not the second salary. It's the one and only.

I'm ok with that. I'm actually thrilled to be extravagantly rich in time. But I sense the end of the in-between time. I'm going to have to figure things out. Where will we live? Can we live in this house? Can we move? Will we stay near by, close to all our friends in the community we've built over the last 10 years? Will we move away? Rebuild? Can I afford (money) to keep this job that I love? Can I afford (time) to get a new job? Where will the kids go to school? What if I just spent years and tons of money getting a PhD and then can't or don't want to get a new job? What if I get a new job and I hate it or am not good at it? What if we move and can't make new friends?

What if I make the wrong decisions?

Not all of these things will need to be decided in 2012. We have some time left in the inbetween. And what I want to do more than anything is ENJOY our time here while making decisions that will lead us out of it and into the great adventure that is our future.

Tomorrow I will be 41. 2012 is upon us. I am walking down a snowy road arm in arm with myself. I will not be afraid.

I will not be afraid.

Oh and for heaven's sake...

2011-12-13T14:54:00.002-05:00

I really should mention, even though I wanted to wait til I could upload a photo, but since my computer is momentarily dead, and I can't do that, I should take just a second, a brief line, to say... I passed my exams! I'm ABD!

Yay!

I agonized and and stressed for several weeks and when they told me that I passed, I was relieved for about 4 seconds before I just incorporated that relief into the larger realization that in "All but dissertation", BUT looms much larger than ALL.

Seriously though.

Yay!

Christmas Cheer

2011-12-13T13:41:00.002-05:00

There are two things that are always true about this time of year. I am always full of Christmas cheer and enjoy partaking in the the various activities of the season. AND there is never as much time as I think to fit in all the things that need and want to be done before the holidays are over.

When I gaze at the uncluttered google calendar page in mid-November, I think, "Ah! This year there will be plenty of time.." for this and that and the other thing. The problem is that by mid-December, "this and that and the other thing" have to muscle their way on to the calendar in between all the other things that have popped up on there.

It's all fun stuff. Crafts and cocoa and songs and parties and music and church and friends and lights and family. I love it! And it's horrible at the same time.

I start to feel like we're running a race and we'll get through it if we just pace ourselves.

That's not an entirely awesome way to feel, but I think it may be an unavoidable situation. I WANT to say yes to all of it.

This year, I had wanted to take the kids to a performance of the nutcracker or A Christmas Carol, but I'm a day late (literally) and a dollar short (somewhat literally). All the performances that we could get ourselves to without supernatural intervention have sold out (since yesterday when there were at least a couple of seats left).

Ah, sigh. It's ok. We'll go to the Mormon Temple and to see the Garden of Lights. To make gingerbread houses with friends and cookies with cousins. And to THREE! unexpected birthday parties. There is plenty to do.

For the moment, I'm a little cheer-less. My (new-ish) computer has stopped working AND I lost a bag of craft-fair gifts (somewhere. Where is that thing? My house is not that big! Did it get tossed by accident? Argh). Also, I realized that now that the temp has dropped in earnest, so has my will to get my butt outside and exercise. I'm trending to Grinchy at the moment.

A walk with the dog. A cup of eggnog. Some carols. A deep breath. And plunge back in.

Gratitude

2011-12-02T20:43:00.002-05:00

I'm a little late to the gratitude party. Several of my friends posted on facebook daily during November. Each day a different thing to be grateful for. I didn't participate in this meme. I enjoyed reading about what people are grateful for and it was often inspiring (although occasionally it was annoying-- along the lines of "I'm grateful that I'm so awesome and that I'm lucky to have such a wonderful life that other people don't have").

In my own life, I honestly try to be grateful every day. I've had some sadnesses, but on the whole, I have a pretty wonderful life. When I think about it, I have just about everything the younger me thought would make a "good" life:

awesome kids
a house of my own
an education
a job I enjoy that doesn't require that I punch in, that offers autonomy, that challenges me and that I'm good at
fantastic friends
enough money to pay my bills
a life filled with books, crafts, music, laughter and nature
good health and a strong body

That's it really. All of the annoyances of life are truly minute against the backdrop of so much to be thankful for. And anything else is just icing on the already moist and delicious cake that is my life. (Did you like that metaphor? :)))))

It's easy to get frustrated.... with my kids, my housemates, traffic, finances, the weather... sometimes in the morning, I'm tired, the kids don't want to get up. They're cranky. We're rushed. I'm making their lunches feeling stressed and harried. And I'm grumbling in my head about how tedious it is to pack school lunches for ungrateful people who probably won't eat half of what I pack.

But then I think that one day I won't GET to pack lunches for them. It's kindof a privilege to get to care for people. It's fleeting. And reminding myself of that makes me more patient with the lunch making. It makes me remember to slow down and do it with love.

And it reminds me that all that we do is a privilege. Every dish washed, every whiny child, every minute sat in traffic, every unfulfilled wish... I am so very, very grateful for all of it.

Except sometimes...

2011-12-01T21:52:00.003-05:00

These days, I find that I very rarely pine for a partner in my life. It's not even that I'm so busy- although I am- It's more that I'm so content.

Domestically, most things I can do for myself- fix the toilet, rake the leaves- and what I can't do, I can either ignore or pay someone else to do - replace the back door, change my oil. Socially, I have friends to hang out with, plenty people to interact with and have really come to enjoy just being by myself. There's just not the gaping hole in my life that there used to be. Life feels complete as is.

Except sometimes.

We had fun picking out the Christmas tree and once we got it home, I indulged Baby Monster's desire to be the one to cut the twine that held it to the roof of the car, but somehow, as I was dragging it across the lawn all the feelings of loss and loneliness just rushed up on me.

"I shouldn't be doing this alone," I thought. and then, "Well, I'm not doing it alone. Baby Monster is 'helping' me, but it sure would be nice to have another adult here with me. A partner to help me. To enjoy this with me..."

It was at about this time that the tree stopped cooperating. It became heavy and uneven. When I tried to get it into the stand, the branches jutted out, preventing it from going it.

Baby Monster assisted by noting that the tree was not straight and assuring me that I should keep working at it.

I did not want to keep working at it. I wanted to quit. But I couldn't really do that, could I? I wonder if anyone has just left their Christmas tree laying on the lawn for the duration of the holiday season. That's not very festive and I'm pretty sure the kids wouldn't stand for it, so I continued to wrestle the tree.

At this point, one of my downstairs housemates walked up and said, "Do you need a hand?"

"No. I've got it. Thanks though," I replied.

I'm sure that was a little bit confusing to him because, clearly, I did need a hand.

So he stood there and watched me wrestle with the tree for a few more minutes before wandering off.

The thing was that I did need help, but I wanted a different kind of help. I wanted the help of someone who could, later, after putting the kids to bed, sit on the couch holding my hand, sleepily admiring the strange and particular beauty that is a family Christmas tree.

Jimmy had offered to help and all, but I don't think he was in for all that!

I felt pretty silly, refusing help that I clearly needed. And for all that, I spent a few minutes being extremely grouchy as I dragged the thing inside, managed to get it into the corner where it immediately fell over, re-straightened it in its stand, re-put it in the corner, struggled through the tedious task of getting the lights wound round a tree that is shoved in a corner and then plugged it in.

But then our friends came; we ate cookies and drank tea and chocolate; the children banged on things and played with the dog; the tree was decked with ornaments; music played. And I forgot to be grouchy.

All the falls

2011-11-21T17:01:00.002-05:00

The beautiful, musty smell of leaves underfoot reminds me of all the falls, of back to school, of beginnings and things left behind.

Our Adventures with CPS

2011-11-10T08:34:00.002-05:00

Big Girl Monster and her friend at school:
Friend: My cat scratched me. Look.
BGM: My cat scratched me. See.

An innocent enough conversation. A throw away really. Except an observer, not affiliated with the school, but just there to watch the classroom in action, thought that BGM said, "My DAD scratched me." And proceeded to call DC child protective services without word or warning to the school or anyone.

They came out to the school, unannounced to investigate. They pulled BGM out of class and questioned her. She was totally freaked out. They asked her things like, "Do you get fed everyday?" and "Do you have clean clothes?"

When I picked her up from her carpool, she glibly asked, "Did CPS come to the house yet?"

"What?!!!!"

I called the school, furious, but they were as furious as I was that this woman had acted without telling anyone and that CPS had shown up and that BGM had to be pulled out of class.

They were supposed to do a home visit, but days went by. My anger subsided. When the kids were worried, I reassured them that if CPS came they would see 2 kids who were well taken care of in a good home and that there was nothing to worry about.

A week later DC CPS called and said the case was closed. We were relieved and went on with our lives.

Two weeks later, I got a letter from the county CPS. It said they'd tried to contact me and that if I didn't call them right away, police action would be taken. Wow. I called right away. As it turned out, the case was not closed but forwarded to the county office. They had my phone number one digit off, so they hadn't been able to reach me.

In order to ACTUALLY close the case, the caseworker would have to see the kids in person and since it was raining and soccer practice was cancelled, I decided to just drive down to the CPS office that evening to get it over with.

I packed the kids up in the car and off we went. Again, they were a bit freaked out, but I reassured them that all would be well. The woman was very nice and the interview was very brief. She asked if they were afraid to visit their Dad. They said no. She asked me if I was concerned that their Dad might have scratched BGM. I said no. (Of all of the complaints I may have about my X, worrying that he's going to scratch the kids is definitely not one of them).

Then she asked if they ever had disagreements with me, their Mom. Big Girl Monster, who was still really nervous, said, "Nope. Never."

Baby Monster was more hesitant, "Well. Sometimes..." he said.

"What happens when you disagree with your mom," the caseworker probed.

"Well, sometimes during my cello practice, she think I played something wrong, but I think I played it right... and we have to disagree about that."

At that point the caseworker sent us home.

And with that, I think, the case is really actually closed.

I'm sure the woman who called was just following her conscience. I'm not angry at her. But it's amazing how a little misunderstanding can have such high stakes and be so disruptive and stressful to other peoples' lives. I can't imagine calling CPS in that situation without first checking with the school or clarifying the situation or at least letting them know.

Anyway, in this case, all's well that ends well. Except now, every time I yell, Baby Monster says, "I'm going to call CPS on you!"

What learning is

2011-11-04T10:46:00.002-04:00

Yesterday I got to see something magical. It was my day to observe Big Girl Monster's class. I came in for my time-slot, sat down and watched with wonder as learning unfolded all around me.

Big Girl Monster and her friend were rehearsing for an oral report on the Cherokees. Then they came in and joined a table of girls who were already working. Amid smiles and happy chatter, they focused on their individual work.

Meanwhile, two girls clapped the rhythms of music notes. One boy carried a large roll of paper. The teacher quietly directed him to the hall with a t square. A few minutes later he returned looking satisfied with piece of paper in the size he wanted.

One boy was doing geography research on an ipad and coloring in countries on a map as he found information. Another was working on a "pin map" identifying countries and geographical features.

Two girls were engaged in a learning about square roots using blocks and beads. The teacher came over and helped them figure out why they couldn't get the answer they were looking for. They held the blocks, moved the beads and then a light went off. They got it. They were satisfied. They put the work away and went to work on drawing with one and two point perspective. T

Out in the courtyard which is centered around a huge oak tree, two younger children worked together to roll out a huge roll of something. I'm not sure what it was or what it was for, but watching them, I could see that just working together to get it rolled out was a learning experience. Suddenly one of them noticed something in a hole on a bank. He stopped and called his companion over to see it. The kneeled together and observed for a long while.

Every single child in the class was working on something interesting. They were engaged and happy. They clearly admired and respected their teacher. She clearly enjoyed helping them engage with their work. The classroom was orderly, energetic, bright and inviting.

When it was time for me to leave, I walked over to BGM's table to say good bye. She was working on a long division problem with a 9 digit divisor. It filled a whole page. She looked up excitedly to show me that as she checked her work, she got the correct answer.

I think very few people are lucky enough to have such a magical learning community. I am so happy for BGM that she has this and felt so privileged to get to catch a little glimpse of it.

Misery does not love company

2011-11-01T00:00:00.000-04:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2iGhrbXGBkQ

For a while it felt like I was the only divorcing person. I know plenty of single moms and divorced people, but while I was separated, I felt very alone. It seemed that these normal happy !but single! people had arrived by spontaneous generation without the sadness or pull or loneliness, unfraught and whole while I on the other hand was a singularity of all that breaks down and all that could have been.

I wondered who would be next- because surely I couldn't be the last EVER.

I thought I would find comfort there. A common bond and a chance to step out of the failure spotlight. Waiting to hear which of my friends and acquaintances would be the first to announce "We're splitting up," I kindof looked forward to it.

And then it happened. Some friends split up. And then friend and her husband separated. And then someone else I know and then again.

And you know what? This didn't make me happy at all. Everyone of these splits was its own little tragedy. Some people are sad to leave behind what and who they loved and others are happy to move ahead into the great unknown possibilities of future love. Most live with one foot in sad and one foot in happy for a really really long time.

What I think I know about relationships (and whether I'm qualified to know anything is debatable) is that there are a few couples who are happy, usually, mostly. And then there are the other people. These people find someone who is initially wonderful and then somewhat annoying but mostly good enough and god at least better then the alternative and we said we would stick with it and so we will and anyway, there are the kids to think about and well, it's not that bad and there are glimpses of what was wonderful. And by the time they get through that thought, it's been 10 or 15 years and Jeez at this point why not just stick with it and we know each other so well and our whole lives are here with each other. And that is what love is- mostly just sticking it out and making it work by wanting it to work.

So tonight a friend told me that they are newly separated, well that they've been separated for a while but that one of them had just moved out. And friend spoke to me with hope and sadness. And it made me remember being in the in between place. That horrible/wonderful place of hope and sadness and all of the glass and fire I had to walk over to get out of that horrible/wonderful place.

And I was not even one little bit happy to have company. I was just sad.

Costumes- pink sparkles and everyday leather

2011-10-29T23:12:00.005-04:00

Halloween is usually my absolute favorite holiday. What's not to like? Costumes, crafts, treats, parties, alter-egos, creepiness...

I love making the costumes, but this year we kept it very simple. Baby Monster is Batman's The Joker and somehow, he hardly needed any costume. We dyed last spring's cotton suit purple- it already had an olive green shirt- sprayed his hair green and applied the right make up. His personality does the rest :)

Big Girl Monster decided months ago that she would be a Zombie Doctor. Once again, she made her own costume and also befitting HER personality, it took almost no effort. She sewed one patch onto the scrubs she got for her birthday (*real* scrubs, she's quick to point out). Make up makes the zombie they say and for her, this is certainly true. She is very no frills.

What I love about them is how they are right on my wavelength as far as costumes. Every day we wear a costume. Most days it's the "regular day" costume that we wear with slight variations. Baby Monster likes his "regular day" costume to say "I'm cool" while Big Girl Monster's "regular day" costume says "I'm sporty." (Meanwhile, my regular day costume says "Thank God I made it out of bed and got us all out the door with lunch boxes in hand and breakfast in our tummies.)

Sometimes it's fun to put on the princess costume with its pink, fluffy sparkles that says I am soft and I am beautiful and I like to twirl. It's fun, but harder, for boys to put this costume on too.

Sometimes we put on the dressy costume. We might need to for work or for a recital or for an event. But it can also be fun to dress up in fancy clothes- and then take them off and throw them on the floor.

Sometimes we put on scary costumes that speak of violence and fear. Ninjas, pirates, superheros, bad guys. And then we take them off and cuddle on the couch.

We dress for sports, for fencing and jogging and soccer and swimming.

We wear cozy pajamas and snuggle up under the covers when we're sick.

We dress tough and we dress beautiful; we dress for you and we dress for ourselves. It's all a costume.

Some people think the costumes are problematic. Girls these days can be overly fixated on the princess theme, undermining their own power while boys focus on hyper-masculine themes to the detriment of a full range of human expression. Women obsess about sexy kitten costumes and insist on wearing make up to the 7-11 while men wouldn't be caught dead in pink or fingernail polish or... whatever.

I love all these costumes. I love make up- which is a normal aspect of human culture- but I don't wear it every day or even feel that I "need" it. I love to see my girl dressed all in girl and my boy dressed all in boy. And then too vice versa. We swing both ways over here. Because it's all a costume. A wrapper for what's inside. The what's inside stays the same, but the costume can change to represent different aspects of who we are.

The costumes are not the problem. It's when people get stuck in one costume- I MUST wear make up; I can only wear pink princess outfits; I have to appear masculine and tough. That is where the problem lies. Help! I'm stuck and I can't get out. I only feel comfortable expressing one aspect of my whole self.

I am more than happy to wear my Doc Martins with ripped jeans and leather jacket when I'm feeling tough and then a swirly floral dress when I'm feeling soft. Or the dress with the doc Martins when I'm feeling both. I can put on a suit when I'm feeling businessy although I am almost never feeling businessy and this type of outfit invariably persists in feeling like a costume- but that's ok, if I need to feel businessy it helps put me in the role. (Terry Gross on Fresh Air recently interviewed former supreme court justice John Paul Stephens and asked him if putting on the robe helped him feel the part and he said that he'd never thought about it but yes, absolutely).

So on this weekend, we are our ghoulish, scary-fun selves and on most days we are our regular day selves, but on ANY day, we could be any of these selves. We're all in here just waiting for the costume.

The woods are lovely, dark and they steal my keys

2011-10-24T13:10:00.002-04:00

The dog is great. He is whip smart and compliant- a good canine combination. His only weakness is an insatiable curiosity for animals that he should really leave alone. Along with cats (whom he continues to terrorize but who are now getting wise to his harmlessness), we can now put donkeys in that category. He accompanied us to the pumpkin patch recently and instead of enjoying the pastoral setting of pumpkins and sunflowers, he spent the whole time whining and jumping, trying to figure out how to get into the donkey pen. Finally I made him wait in the car.

That is a long way to introduce a story in which Blackjack is only a bit player. Baby Monster is the real hero of this tale. The other day, he (Baby Monster) had a half day at school, so I picked him up and took him and the dog to the nearby national forest. Dog, boy and mom all had a fantastic time running through the woods, jumping over the creek, falling in the creek, climbing fallen trees, collecting pretty leaves and getting our leashes tangled around sticks (some of us did more of these things than others). Watching Baby Monster enjoy the freedom of the woods made me think that we really just don't have enough time to play. And even though I make spending time in nature one of our priorities, I vowed to make double extra triple sure that we spend plenty of time enjoying the outdoors this fall (and as much as possible in winter).

After a good long while, it was time to go get Big Girl Monster and her friend from school. As we headed back towards the trailhead and the car, it was at that moment that I realized that my keys were no longer in my pocket.

Hmmm. Keys. Car. Lost. Woods. Shit.

That was what went through my head. We had not stayed on the path. We had been to the creek, in the underbrush, on and off the trail. Those stupid keys could be ANYWHERE. I quickly ran to retrace our steps. No keys. I made alternate arrangements for the girls. Then slowly, Baby Monster and I rewalked our walk. Just near the end, Baby Monster moved ahead and called, "They're here! Here they are! I found the keys!"

He was the hero of the day, for sure and we were not even late to pick up the girls.

I am a writer

2011-10-16T07:27:00.003-04:00

Baby Monster's reading is improving bit by bit. He's able to read many things, but it remains very difficult for him and although he loves to have books read to him and he likes looking at books with pictures, he still is not able to read to himself.

At the same time, he loves stories and is fascinated by typing on the keyboard.

The other night, it was late, there was homework to do. Argh. Homework. Baby Monster's homework dominates our evenings. I try to be upbeat about it, but often I dread it's tedium. It's getting easier and going faster these days, but it requires so much energy from us.

Anyway, there was homework waiting to be done, but Baby Monster announced, "I'm going to write a novel. Help me Mom. Can I use your computer?"

He had told me about his novel earlier in the day, passionately telling me about his inspiration and now he wanted to put his words

It took him an hour. He asked me to help him spell almost every word. The homework remained undone. But he beamed, "Look! I wrote a whole sentence!!!" and then, "Look! I wrote five lines! I really am a writer!!!"

Here is his story:

Living in leaves

Gus x.L.m.n.

I like to see the leaves change colors.I like to jump in the leaves.Me my self I like the way that fall gives the colors.In winter I like the way that the pineneedles swing this way and that way.

He is a writer.

The cats are pissed

2011-10-13T23:13:00.003-04:00

We got a dog. His name is Blackjack and he's very sweet. He's a Schipperke- which I'd never heard of- a Belgian boat dog.

Why did we get a dog? What were you thinking? Are you crazy? (That was my Mom's reaction when I told her).

I may be crazy, but there were some actual reasons and I was actually thinking. This is really about Baby Monster. For him, having to give up our old dog, Dogmo, is all tied up in the divorce and all that that has brought. Well, those two events were, in reality tied together, but for him as well, all of that sadness is tied together too. He still really misses his dog.

For another thing, school is really tough for him. It's not that he's not smart and not even that he's not doing well or that he doesn't have friends. It's that it's not an optimal environment for a Baby Monster. It's big and rough and bureaucratic and regimented. It takes a huge amount of his energy to get through his days there. His teachers describe him as eager and curious and he learns, but he does not feel a sense of ownership over his learning. He has friends and plenty of people like him, but it is tough to navigate the unfamiliar social landscape (especially the older kids on the bus who are sometimes not very nice). All of that is to say that school is an area that drains him completely and does not fulfill him at all.

If there's one thing that Baby Monster loves, it's animals. He's good at animals. He feels connected to and nurtured by them as well as fulfilled by his ability to nurture them. He has been very responsible in caring for his Guinea pig and is diligent and enthusiastic about caring for the horses he rides. So I'm hoping that Blackjack will be a kind of antidote to school.

All that may be compelling but somewhat irrelevant to the fact that a dog is just one more responsibility that ultimately falls on my shoulders. I get that and it's a real consideration. However, in thinking it through, I decided that now, rather than later, is actually a good time to make this transition. Right now, I'm actually home in and out throughout the day. I have a lot of places to be (always) but I have flexibility and am not away for long stretches of time. Also, I have housemates who are willing to help out if I need it and usually here if I'm out of town.

So all of that and the daily questions from Baby Monster, "When can we get a dog?!!!!!!!" have been rolling through my mind and we happened upon this dog, a rescue, who needed a home. He meets Baby Monster's requirement that he be a "wolf dog"- that is that he have pointy ears and a snout - and he met my requirement that he be small. He's only 20 lbs full grown.

We've had 2 days of adjustment and so far, he's doing great. He seems completely house trained- have mercy- but I'm being super vigilant as well. He's very smart, but completely untrained, so I'm thinking we may need to do a class with him. The challenges will be that he is very high energy. That's good in a way because he'll be a great running companion, but will also keep us on our toes. And he hates to be alone. He does not like to be out in the yard by himself and will bark a little high pitched bark until someone joins him. That will have to be nipped in the bud. On the other hand, he's perfectly happy to be where ever we are.

And then, one of the roles of the "Belgian boat dog" is to get rid of "vermin." So far he seems to put the cats in that category. He's INTENSELY interested in chasing them and vigorously investigating them. They are INTENSELY interested in being as far away as possible from him.

Whack-a-mole

2011-10-06T09:38:00.002-04:00

We are intractably back on the school-year treadmill. We goandgoandgoandgo. Then we collapse or enjoy small capsules of rest and relaxation and the we goandgoandgoandgo again.

I have several 2 hour windows in the week and into these hours, I must fit all meetings, chores, errands, extras. When they are open, I have some wiggle room and I can breathe. When they are full, I just run all week long. Of course, this is the third week in a row that they are all booked up. This week, I've even had to shuffle lessons and activities to make room for meetings.

These are the things that must be attended to:
Work
School
Baby Monster Homework
House cleaning
the yard
auto maintenance
bills
friends
social obligations
family time
eating
medical visits (well-check ups, teeth, eyes and anything that needs attending)

No matter how hard I work, it's not possible to be on top of all these things at once. When paying bills is an emergency, the yard may go. When homework takes all evening, the house may get away. When we must eat (and often we must), there is something else that is forgotten. And always we get to bed later than we'd planned and must wake up earlier than we'd like.

Why isn't it important to lounge in bed and cuddle?

Last night we got home from a late cello lesson (moved to make room for a JHU meeting tomorrow afternoon). It was already past bed time and homework would wait til the morning, but in the morning, there is never enough time and the sun isn't even up and a notebook was left at school. Some of the homework could not be finished. Do you know what that means?

Homework not done at home means homework done in the classroom during recess. He tried not to cry. He really did. But I had to send him off a little weepy to face the consequences of not getting it all done.

The phone rang and it was a computer telling me that my cell phone bill was due. And the dishes sit undone in the sink.

Appreciation

2011-10-04T12:28:00.003-04:00

There are many things that are difficult about being a single parent. Trust me. Many things. But most of them, I think I've got covered or at least have come to terms with.

The one that I can't figure out though is how to teach my kids to appreciate me. I know it sounds funny, but it's really difficult to teach this when there's not one to model it for you.

If I had a partner, well, if I had a GOOD partner, my partner would say, "Oh! You look so pretty today." or "Gee, Mom is sick, we need to take care of her." or "Wow. Look what Mom has done for us/cooked for us/made for us/arranged for us..." 0r "Gosh. Mom has worked very hard to help us with x and is now tired. We should rub her feet."

As it is, it's just me shrill-ly bleating, "Look kids! Look what Mom has made for you! Isn't it great? Look dammit! Give me so appreciation here, People..."

It's not just that I would like to have my feet rubbed every once in a while (actually, they do rub my feet occasionally, but not often enough). I would like the perks of being appreciated, for sure, but even more, I'd like them to know HOW to show appreciation for people who do things for them. I certainly model care and loving and appreciation with them and others as much as I can, but it's a different model and one that I have not been able to figure out how to demonstrate ON MYSELF.

The Price of Local

2011-09-19T09:43:00.003-04:00

There's a whole new retail area just behind my house. Unfortunately, it's not that easy to walk to (although we do) because there are fences and railroad tracks and other obstacles that cover the 1/4 mile route that we COULD take straight from our back yard. As it is, we walk AROUND.

We've tried to make the "grand openings" of every business and so far, we've made it to all but the Pet Supply store. That is, we've hit the organic burger place (Elevation Burger), the Restaurant/bar (Busboys and Poets), the nail spa and the Yogi Castle yogurt shop, the Chipotle and the Organic Market (Yes!) all on opening day! Currently, we're eagerly awaiting the opening of the new Thai place and early next year, an India place!

How lucky we are to have all of these fantastic new place so close to us and so convenient! I was very curious about the Yes! Organic Market and then disappointed when I discovered that it is quite a bit more expensive for some of my regular Glut Food Coop and My Organic Market items. For example, a box of granola bars (for lunchboxes) is $2/more per box than at MOM. I told Big Girl Monster as we left on opening day that, sadly, we would not be able to make Yes! our regular grocery stop as I'd hoped, but that I was glad it was close by.

Well, the joke's on me. As it turns out, "right in my backyard" trumps "cheaper." In the last few weeks, we've stopped in to the Yes! just about every other night to pick up a thing or two for dinner, a missing item- or dinner itself. Likewise, the Busboys and Poets, the eagerly awaited Left-wing bar/restaurant/bookstore is finally open and I find it too expensive to consider it a regular hang out ($12 Margaritas?). We've gone a few times for dinner or brunch, but I've gone even several more times to meet people for a quick drink- because it's sooooo close!

So that, I've realized, is the price of local. These places (don't even get me started on the pet supply store!) are a lot more expensive than I'd like to be paying, but the convenience can't be beat! And in the end, I've decided that I'm happy to pay a little more to support their presence in my community (and in my back yard).

convergence insufficiency

2011-09-10T22:10:00.002-04:00

Baby Monster has continued to struggle with reading. It's hard to put a finger on what the problem is, but it's like he knows HOW to read, but he just isn't able to. Even though he knows what he's doing, it's really hard for him and even though he's learning and getting better, his progress has been really slow.

It's been very frustrating for him- since he's expected to read at school. And frustrating for me, since I've been unsure how to help him. I've hounded the school to give him extra help, I've worked with him, read to him every night, sent him to an expensive reading class over the summer...Actually, the reading class was funny. The teacher was ridiculously perky (Baby Monster asked, "What is wrong with Kourtney? Why does she talk that way?") and the class was not at all helpful in improving Baby Monster's reading. But at least I felt like I was doing something. Something!

The whole thing has been mysterious to me. He is a quick learner, very able in other areas, excellent in math, motivated...I just haven't been able to pinpoint the problem- and yet there clearly is one. Meanwhile, I've been amazed at his ability to play and memorize music.

One day, idly curious, I googled something like, "good at memorizing music can't read" and I surfed around the results. What I came up with in my search was that some kids have vision problems (even if they see 20/20) that interfere with reading and that perhaps Baby Monster should see a developmental ophthalmologist.

Indeed, after we returned from vacay, Baby Monster was evaluated and diagnosed with convergence insufficiency- which basically means that his eyes don't work well together. It can make reading, concentrating and comprehension very very difficult. The DO sees tons of kids with condition and says that when treated, reading improves dramatically. The treatment is in office vision therapy that he'll have to do twice a week for at least 6 months. He also said that this is a condition that is most common in kids who were early walkers. Apparently, crawling is important for the development of bilateral coordination. Of course, Baby Monster was a very early walker. Also, he noted BM's slight speech abnormality (he has a little lisp) and says that this is also part of the picture- all these things go together apparently.

Interestingly, when I mentioned it to the teachers at his school, they were interested, but not as sanguine as I am that this is the missing piece of the puzzle. They are very focused on the pedagogical approach. However, I have high hopes for the therapy- and he does too.

Here's a link to the abstract of a recent review article about treatment of CI:
http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/21873922

Advice

2011-09-09T23:15:00.002-04:00

One of the great things about our wonderful pool is that kids of all ages mingle. In particular, it is a safe place for tweens to lightly mingle with the the teens and for pre-teens to hang with the tweens and for younger kids to practice being pre-teens... all the way on down (the babies chill with the toddlers in the sandbox). The downside of this is that the younger ones tend to pick up behavior and vocabulary from the older ones.

Indeed, there has been a rash of "vocabulary" this summer.

One evening as we were leaving the pool in twilight, Baby Monster said very solumly, "Mom, if I ever die...if I'm, like, shot, or die for any reason...(my sister would be dead too, but I don't know how she dies)... If i die, you should have a threesome."

Uh....

I paused to absorb that sentiment while I got in the car. Meanwhile, Big Girl Monster verified that he did actually know the definition of threesome and that we were all on the same page.

After I'd regained (s0me of ) my composure, I asked, "Well, Son, why would you need to be dead?"

And he answered without missing a beat, "Oh, if I was alive, I wouldn't let THAT happen! No way. Uhuhn not MY Mom!"

Another night, Big Girl Monster announced, unbidden, during dinner, "Mom, if you ever work as a pole dancer, you're going to have to shave your armpits."

Alas, another pool season has ended and our evenings just aren't the same.

Trippy- Part II

2011-09-07T22:10:00.004-04:00

Next we flew from Orlando to Texas to visit my Dad and Step-mom.

Last time we were there, Baby Monster was an actual baby- so it's been a while.

They live in the woods. Their place is beautiful and rustic with an outhouse and and outdoor shower. We loved it! It was a whole new adventure and a great contrast to Disney.

We found this skull- along with the rest of the skeleton- in the woods behind the old barn. Actually, Baby Monster is quick to point out that he saw it first, so please do not make that mistake. What do you do when you find a cow skull in the woods? You get your Dad to mail it to you, right? That's what we did. A week or so after our return a large box appeared on the stoop. We knew right away what was inside and were happy that it came to the right address although it was fun to imagine it being opened by an unintended recipient. Now it has a prominent place in the living room. I doubt you could find a more authentic souvenir of Texas.

Other activities included learning to shoot a .22 rifle. BGM is a crack shot.

Riding in the back of a pick up truck down dirt roads.

Visiting ancestors.

And learning about aroma-therapy (duh!).

We capped it off with a trip to the beach at Galveston which was great especially because we were there with a multitude of cousins. I, myself, have only one cousin in this world, but what with second cousins and step-cousins and step second cousins and all that, there were plenty of cousins to go around. Baby Monster was particularly excited to see his 11 year old twin girl cousins. Despite the fact that the last time he met them, he was four months old, he could not stop talking about them. And they did not disappoint.

I know it seems implausible that such a trip in the middle of AUGUST with so much family involved could be utterly free of family-type strife and completely full of fun, but it was. There was not a dull moment, very few grouchy moments and most of all lots of very precious moments, so that by the time the vacation was ending, we had hardly noticed homesickness creeping up on us. And when we finally noticed it and thought, "I'd sure like to be home. My home", we were almost there.

Trippy- Part I

2011-09-07T21:26:00.005-04:00

We spent the better part of August on vacation.

Disney was first.

We were lucky enough to go with my mom! She'd never been before. It was great for me to go with another adult and the kids loved spending time (and riding roller coasters)with Maddie.

Speaking of which, here we are in front of Maddie and Big Girl Monster's favorite ride: the Tower of Terror. They rode it til closing one night- no joke.

There was some great food including this cool restaurant that showed 50's sci-fi movies while we ate in cars- like we were at the drive-in.

Here's Baby Monster at about the half-way point of Cirque du Soleil. The Show was amazing.
This was how we felt at the end of each day. Hot, sweaty and tired. The rest of the time we were hot, sweaty and having fun. So much fun, apparently, that I didn't take all that many pictures. We had such a great time though, I'm sure we'll remember it forever.

Here are the rascals in the lobby of our fancy hotel. This is possibly the only picture where they are BOTH smiling.

Achey Breaky Heart

2011-08-01T07:48:00.001-04:00

I always thought the metaphor of the broken heart was a bit overstated. I imagined heart break to be more like a sprain- a very very painful sprain- rather than like a broken bone. That is I imagined that it was mostly about pain and not so much about structural damage.

But, in fact, I think that my heart, the part of me that loves, was actually broken.

This did not occur to me during the actual breaking. I was too focused on the pain, I suppose. But now that the pain is gone, I can see, in the post-trauma heart, that what is there is not the same as it was.

Now that there is no pain to react to or minimize, I've started to notice the damage. I've noticed that my heart is actually not working the way it used to.

Why aren't you dating? Aren't you dating? You should be dating! I get asked that more and more these days.
Why am I not dating? I make an excuse: I'm busy. I make a joke: I'm dating my dissertation proposal. But really the answer is: because I can't. My heart is putting itself back together.

A dab of glue, lengths of thread, lots of time and laughter and people who are good to me. Slowly it starts to tick.

But still, no matter the repairman's skill, the seam is visible; bits of clockwork litter the workbench.

Personality Type

2011-07-27T11:29:00.002-04:00

A colleague who is super into Myers-Briggs personality typing loaned me this book. The basic premise is that you can better understand your kids by identifying their personality type. Even though it's a very surface gloss of Myers-Briggs types (which are actually very complex- much more so than most people are aware), I got a lot out of it.

First of all, I found it difficult to identify Big Girl Monster's personality type. That in itself was telling. She, much like me, is on or near the border of several categories. I had to ask her, "Do you feel more energy when you're with people or when you're alone."

Like me, she said that often she wants to be with people but that just as often she needs to be alone. I have always tested right in the middle of Introvert and Extrovert, and I think she naturally lands there too. In the end, in consultation with her, I determined that the closest fit for her is ENTJ (Extroverted, Intuitive, Thinking, Judging). This category mostly fits her well. She is friendly and social, future oriented, curious, analytical, imaginative, independent and opinionated. For better or worse, I am very similar.

Some of the tips offered for this type of child are right on target:

Save things you might ordinarily throw away and encourage your child to use them for inventions and art projects.
ask for their opinions and listen to their theories.
delegate to them as early as possible
expect to be challenged
be ready to answer lots of questions

Baby Monster was EASY to figure out. The description of the ESTP is so spot on: "Primarily driven by their impulses and enormous energy to experience the world." In addition to being physically agile and untimid, ESTPs are also very cuddly and love the natural world.
Although I already knew all this about Baby Monster, reading the description of how these types of kids totally live in the moment really helped me. I am very abstract and future oriented. In contrast, Baby Monster wants what he wants, passionately, at that moment. Both future incentives and future consequences are lost on him.

Realizing this has helped guide more empathetic responses to his moments of dismay, but also my approach to crime and punishment. I try to make consequences much more immediate. And too, it's reassuring to know that even though he really really feels like he might die if I don't take him to Target to buy a toy RIGHT NOW, he will be on to his next heart's desire by evening.

All in all an easy book that proved useful in better understanding my sweeties.

Yum! Frozen Banana Treats

2011-07-24T11:45:00.000-04:00

These frozen banana treats, in addition to lots of varieties (pomegranate-lime) have been a favorite this summer. The kids especially love this type of home made frozen treat because I almost never say no when they ask for some. It's a banana with crunchy peanuts and little bit of chocolate (sometimes I crush up a little cereal for added crunch). Summer tastes good.

Divisionals

2011-07-23T23:23:00.002-04:00

Swim team has gone well this year. This is the first year we've done all the meets. I didn't think they needed to get too competitive with it too young, but this year they seemed ready for the full commitment and have really enjoyed being a part of the team. They like to practice the team cheer in the back seat of the car "We are the best-- oh yeah-- when we swim breast--oh yeah..."

Baby Monster is shockingly fast a back stroke. Big Girl Monster insisted for over half the season that she "couldn't do" Butterfly, but a solid win in the last meet put a stop to that line of argument. She also won in Breast Stroke that meet and I loved seeing how proud of herself she was.

Both kids competed in the divisionals meet today. Unfortunately, a week of fun and full of activities plus an already prone to anxiety girl is not a good combination. BGM was up late worrying first about the race and then about not sleeping.

8:30- both kids in bed (it's a miracle).
9:30- BGM up with a nose bleed. I little bit anxious.
10:30- nose bleed. tears.
11:30- nose bleed. tears. more tears.

Finally, I got her to sleep all cuddled up next to me.

She did great in her race. It was a close one, and she ended up coming in 5th. She was disappointed by this result, but I keep reminding her that it's cool just to get into divisionals and that she should be proud of herself.

Baby Monster was the clear winner of the 8 and under boys back stroke. Looks like he's headed to the All-Star meet.

Big Girl Monster is actually somewhat relieved to be spared the inevitable anxiety of another competition, but she did remind Baby Monster that his punishment for winning is that he has another week of evening swim practice while she will be off playing.

Horse Camp

2011-07-21T22:50:00.002-04:00

Baby Monster has been at horse camp this week. It was entirely unexpected. I had warned him early and often that he could not do horse camp this summer. For one thing, horse camp is expensive. For another, and more important, thing, it's far away. There are horse camps in all directions, but even the closest are 30+ minutes out into the country.

I love that little critter, but 2 hours of driving daily is not how I want to spend my summer.. so no horse camp.

Except... somehow I found a stable close to us. It is actually within our zip code. It is 15 minutes (at most) away. Clay Hill Stables is a little oasis of horse farm in the middle of suburban development.

So this week he has the pleasure of spending 8 hours a day in the blazing sun doing barn chores and, of course, learning to ride. He loves it. I think it's the only camp ever that he has asked to be dropped off early for.

The owner, Mrs. P. reported to me on Tuesday that Baby Monster is a natural horse rider. Actually, she went on to say that he was the most talented rider she'd ever seen. I was completely astonished to hear this, but then, it makes sense in a way too. Baby Monster is always good with physical things and he's been obsessed with horses for over a year now. I guess it's natural to be good at something you love and have been longing to do.

I asked him if he'd like to keep taking lessons and he said, "Of course I do! I will NEVER EVER stop wanting to be with horses."

And then he went on to explain that horses are his friends. "We belong together," he said. "They need me. And I need to ride."

And then he told me about how one of the horses likes to run even though she's not supposed to. "I didn't pull the reigns enough and Callie started to canter. I'm not supposed to canter yet. But I can do it. It was awesome. And I just felt like a tweng all over my body."

A happy boy.

Hunting Bras

2011-07-14T22:04:00.003-04:00

Baby Monster did a week of advanced woods/survival camp this year. It's a great camp where they learn to use bow drills to make fires, make rope from plants they find in the woods, find and eat edible plants, build debris huts and other wonderful things that get them really sweaty and dirty. In preparation for this camp, I had to buy him a 4 inch fixed blade hunting knife, and since I waited for the last minute, I had to go to Walmart, a place I generally avoid, to get it.

As an aside, I will mention that when the clerk at Walmart wants to know, as you're buying a hunting knife, "what your husband hunts" and you announce that the knife is for your 6 yo who is going to survival camp, you're liable to be mistaken for a white supremacist. "Oh yeah, one of them race war militia camps?" Uhm no.

Anyway, as we strolled to the hunting knife section, I spotted these great half tank bras. I love this kind of bra and can never find them, so I tossed a three pack into the cart. "What are you DOING?" Baby Monster wanted to know. "Why did you put THOSE in there?"

"Oh, those are HUNTING bras," I said. "I'll get them for you along with a hunting knife."

"NO! I don't want them. Put them back," he protested.

"Haha! Ok. I'll get the hunting bras for myself."

"MOM! They're not HUNTING bras!"

Several days later as I picked up Big Girl Monster from sleep away camp, I happened to be wearing one of my new bras and the little lacy top was sticking up out of the neckline of my tank top- a cute enough look. When BGM saw me, first she hugged me and then she yanked my tank up to cover the lacy part and demanded, "Mom! What are you wearing?!"

"Oh! That's my hunting bra," I told her.

"Argh! Mom! Ssshhh!!"

And that is the story of how I managed to embarrass both of my kids with one hunting bra.

Girl Scout Camp

2011-07-08T22:07:00.003-04:00

This is the 4th year in a row that Big Girl Monster has gone to girl scout camp with her friend K. Usually, they come home singing and giggling, and frothing at the mouth to tell of their adventures. This year was a little different.

For one thing, they did the "moonlight mania" camp which kept them up for late night antics every night, but on the day I picked them up, they had gotten up early, so they were tired. But also, this year, they seemed older. At 9 and 10, I guess they are older, but also, this year they didn't sing as much. I had to ask them to sing and when they did, they carefully chose one song whereas in previous years, I practically had to ask them to stop singing.

It seemed that they had fun (playing cricket, kayaking, night swimming, doing a midnight raid on another cabin, dressing up, dancing in black light paint and learning a dance), and this year they even claimed that they weren't home sick (although the little notes that I found crumpled up in the bottom of BGM's bag betrayed at least some occasional longing for home). And they both noted that this year they had become very attached to the counselors. "Those songs we sang around the last campfire were so sad," said BGM.

Another thing that surprised me was how much more assertive BGM was than I had ever seen her before. "I'm very good at cricket," she announced.
"Me too," said her friend.
"Yes, you're good, but I am better than you."

Although this kind of assertiveness could get obnoxious, I was actually happy to see her standing up for herself and feeling self confident enough to assert herself to her friend.

I'm wondering if and how this new sense of self will develop with her school friends - some of whom have very strong personalities, but I'm hoping the positive aspects of it will stay with her.

Happy 4th

2011-07-05T18:20:00.002-04:00

We viewed the fireworks from the hill at the Iwo Jima Memorial in Arlington. We were there with my sister and her family along with my parents and brother who were visiting from NC. Joining us were about 5000 or so pals. You might think that braving traffic and parking difficulties and crowd and then sitting in the muggy sun for 3 hours is too high a price to pay for viewing15 minutes of fireworks bursting over the capitol building and Washington Monument... I'm not going to argue with you. But all in all it was fun hanging with the fam, eating barbque stuff, and watching the cousins commune (I especially enjoyed watching Big Girl Monster adore her 7 month old cousin- she's not usually into babies, but this one has her smitten).

Speaking of fireworks, the kids love the parody group In the Key of Awesome (think weird Al with modern pop favs and music vids). We watched Katy Perry's Firework video back to back with the parody.

In the original video Perry portrays the inner awesomness of all people by having sparklers come out of their chests at the moment they realize their awesomeness. In the parody, the sparklers are found coming out of another part of the (male) anatomy (as in when a guy in class is called to blackboard wearing sweat pants and doesn't want to get up because he has an unexpected erection). Let it shine. After we watched the video, I asked if they had any idea what that was about. "Sure don't,"they said.

So I got to explain how sometimes this...happens to boys. Baby Monster cheerfully said, "Oh yeah! I know what you mean!" While I'm pretty sure Big Girl Monster thinks I was making up stories.

Nope, Big Girl Monster, life is whacky like that.

Happy Fourth.

Reading Nook

2011-07-03T10:46:00.002-04:00

The canopy of trees over the deck, the blue umbrella, the twittering of birds and squirrels, the iced coffee, the breeze... and the time to read a book!

40.5

2011-06-30T10:24:00.000-04:00

Today is my half birthday. I know this because my brother and I used to celebrate this day together as our special day. He was born on my 17th birthday, or you could say, I turned 17 on the day he was born. Since we have the same birthday, we always called each other twin.

Our actual birthday is on New Year's Eve which already has a lot going on. For years, when he was little we celebrated our half birthday as our special day. We used to do stuff like gocarts or laser tag and I think one year we almost had a food fight- for fun. I still like to wish him happy half birthday.

Happy half birthday, twin!!

Pigs in Grass

2011-06-29T15:42:00.002-04:00

We're not allowed to have livestock here in suburbia (not even chickens which, despite their fadishness are still outlawed in our area and which we'd love to husband).

Perhaps if we were able we would have goats or sheep or some other grazers to eat the grass of our semi-pastoral lawn. As it is, we have the pigs. Guinea pigs that is.

The pigs moved outside this spring because, I determined, they are happier outside and because, I am certain, I am happier when they are outside. One thing I've learned about myself as I enter middle age is that I don't like boxes of animal waste in my house. And frankly, I have better things to do than scrub excrement off plastic bins or supervise other people doing thus.

Baby Monster and I built the pigs an outdoor hutch with lumber and screws and chicken wire. I wish I were a better woodworker,and I think Baby Monster does too, but in the end, we created a passable hutch that shelters the pigs.

In addition, I fashioned a "guinea pig tractor" out of stakes and chicken wire. This, I move about the back yard to allow the pigs access to various patches of grass. They eat the grass. I move the tractor. They eat more grass.

The lawn is mowed and fertilized all in one.

Hello Summer

2011-06-28T22:58:00.001-04:00

Hello Summer,

I really missed you. And then you came to visit, but I was too busy to notice that you had arrived. You put your bags, filled with steamy afternoons, thunderstorms and mosquitoes, by the front door, sat down on the couch and kicked up your feet.

When I finally noticed you, you had already helped yourself to some lemonade and were impatiently wondering when we were going to get to the pool.

Oh summer. Now that you've moved in, you've taken over the place. I'm glad you're here, but I miss my girl, gone to camp. I longed for the empty days you bring, but now I pine for routine. (I am as fickle as you are.)

Frankly, I'm a bit weary of your empty promises. Where are the lazy afternoons, the vast stretches of time, the margaritas? Indeed, where are the margaritas? I haven't seen a single one since you arrived and am beginning to wonder if you even brought any with you this year.

Ah well, you've never been a polite house guest. Maybe one day you'll learn not to leave weeds all over the garden, scorch the grass or leave the door open when the airconditioner is on.

If I'm too grouchy with you, you know you can snuggle with my boy. He loves you with abandon. He loves to explore in your hot days. He loves how stubbornly the sun leaves your sky. He loves falling asleep, late, to the sound of Mama's voice reading and waking up to nothing to do.

Ok. I love that too. I love you, I do. And when you leave, I'll let you break my heart all over again.

Cello Recital May 2011

2011-06-03T16:55:00.000-04:00

to the nines

2011-04-05T12:31:00.003-04:00

She is 9. Extremely, exquisitely nine.

I have read, sitting in the aisle at Borders- reading but not buying the book--that 9's seek independence. Well, this is certainly true, but she has always been independent.

In fact, I don't remember what else it said about 9 because all of it and none of it applies to her.

What I love about her is that she is still happy to be a little girl. Well, not so little but a girl nonetheless. She is not interested in fashion or make up or gossip or squealing or boy crushes or any some such things that rush little girls too quickly into the teenage years.

She plays happily with boys. They are not gross. She humors them when they talk about cars... and will gladly match them on the soccer field. She plays with her girlfriends too. Happy to run or play make believe.

In classic 9 year old form, she care not a whit for hygiene. I catch her with her pj's under her clothes and realize she's had them on for several days. She prefers not to bathe. She never washes her face. "Did you put on deodorant?" I ask every morning. Yes. She needs it.

Except when she has an "event"-- a recital or performance is an occasion for dressing. She prefers classic slacks. Dresses, still, not so much.

Her hair, though, must be long and, if she has her way, worn down, sometimes brushed. Never braided. I was so lucky during the lice outbreak at school. I got to braid her hair every day! Now I'm not allowed even though I offer often. "Do you want me to braid your hair?" It's not even ironic. And neither is her decline.

The child is lazy with a capital L. She doesn't want to push herself, clean up after herself, do anything that requires effort. That's normal, right? I do push her a little. Sometimes. Usually not. I'm lazy too. And sometimes we fight.

She sure is creative, though. She will get an idea, a bee in her bonnet, shut herself in her room, cutting and snipping, coming out only for supplies-- why do you need that pillow case? No, you can't use lemons-- and will emerge hours later, "Mom! Look what I made!!!!"

Last night we made a fire in the fire pit. She told about the myths of Prometheus and Hercules and Io as we sat around. She and her brother traced words in the air with the glowing tips of their fires sticks. Feeling generous, she let her brother douse the fire.

When we went in, I had to convince her not to wear her smokey clothes to bed. I picked out her pj's -- like I used to do every night and we laughed as I held out the pants and said, "One foot, two foot." Like I used to do when she was little. It was funny because she's so NOT little now.

Later that night, there was a storm. She still hates storms, so there she was at 4 a.m. crawling into bed with me.

"Mom," she said, "If you count the seconds between the lightning and the thunder, you know how far away the lightning is. That's how I know we're safe."

And then she snuggled down beside me and fell back to sleep.

Cognitive Deficit

2011-03-14T12:05:00.000-04:00

Ugh. I can't think. I'm not sure why. Something about late winter/pre-spring. My brain just slows down.

I vaguely remember that there was a time that I was able to plan and prepare coherent meals. Regularly. At meal time. In my own home.

Lately, I can't seem to get from idea to execution. I know what I need to do. I think I know what I need to do. What do I need to do? I just can't get it done. What needs to be done? Oh dear.

I'm all fuzzy. Much worse than being fuzzy is being fuzzy and busy. I've had to be in Baltimore more than usual for the last couple of weeks. More driving, more traffic, more meetings.

Less eating at home.

Also less exercising.. which just adds to the fuzziness.

Spring. I see you weeding up my garden, but I'm happy you will be here soon.

Spung!

2011-03-04T10:09:00.003-05:00

Spring is sneaking in. Usually this is a time of great rejoicing and much activity. Crisp morning air is infused with light. The days are sunny and clear. Buds appear. We can go outside. Our winter hibernation ends with a burst of frenzied enthusiasm.

This year...I'm still happy to greet spring, but... maybe it's just that the warm part of spring isn't here yet. There have been some lovely warm days, but mostly we're seeing days in the 30's and 40's with plenty of frosts in between and stretches of days filled with cold rain thrown in for good measure.

I know this is how spring rolls. It teases us by throwing out the perfect day and then snatching it back. Cold rainy days are days for roots to grow and buds to start slowly emerging.

But it, apparently, is also time for weeds to take hold. The garden is budding, that's for sure. The forsythia will bloom next week. And those ridiculously persistent daffodils that I planted for our first spring here are coming up again despite being under the rosemary bush.

And the weeds. They are blooming and budding and bursting forth everywhere. All I can see as I look at my garden and lawn are the remnants of the best laid plans and a lot of work awaiting me.

I actually don't usually mind weeding. It's very meditative and relaxing. But there are so many things I feel like I should do that I don't have time for. Weeding, spending time and money on my garden, seem like an indulgence that I can't afford.

On the other hand, my yard looks like crap and that makes it all something I SHOULD take care of. Another obligation.

Hello daffodils! Thank you for coming again year after year. Hello forsythia and crocuses. Thank you for heralding the warmer days to come. Hello sunshine and clear blue sky.

Look, I'm sorry. Winter always does this to me. I'll be ready to play soon.

Body/image

2011-02-19T17:14:00.002-05:00

One of the unfortunate side effects of my wardrobe project is that more than ever, I'm annoyed by the shape of my body.

Although, when I was younger, I never appreciated just how... thin... I was, I have never been the type of woman to obsess about my body. I gained A LOT of weight with my pregnancies, and then when my body was ready to let it go, the weight came off.

I feel sorry for women who stress about getting back to their pre-baby weight when their babies are only weeks or months old.

Anyway, even when I was relatively huge- on me size 12 is pretty big- it didn't really bother me.

I think I've mentioned that I've always hated how hard it is for me to buy pants. I can't stand pants shopping. There's nothing like trying on pair after pair of pants that are either too long or won't zip up to make you feel like a freak. It's true, I really do have quite short legs and quite an ample rear. Oh well.

And now that I'm paying more attention, it's bothering me even more. I would like my rear to be... smaller, so that I can fit into they type of pants I'd like to wear and so that clothes will drape differently on me instead of bunching up at my hips.

The irony of this body dissatisfaction is that I'm in the best shape I've been in in years. I'm strong, fit, flexible. And now disgruntled.

So unfair.

My girl is 9

2011-02-12T17:01:00.000-05:00

My big girl is that much bigger: a 9 year old! For her birthday, she wanted a doctor kit, a detective outfit and an electric scooter. She got a doctor kit- from my mom- with a real stethoscope, real blood pressure cuff, real wound kit etc in a super cool medical bag. I got her scrubs and a lab coat. She put it on IMMEDIATELY and started taking everyone's blood pressure and checking tonsils.

Then she put on her detective get up: a trench coat and hat. (I love the thrift store!)

Her big gift from me was tickets to see Taylor Swift in August. She gets to bring a friend. Or she could bring her brother... yeah that probably won't happen. She is thrilled at the thought of seeing Taylor Swift.

She LOVES her costumes and props.

And yet... she keeps wondering out loud why she didn't get an electric scooter.

Birthday Morning

2011-02-11T17:34:00.000-05:00

Chocolate Chips Pancakes

A boy and his pig

2011-02-09T17:31:00.000-05:00

Wear-drobe

2011-02-03T22:05:00.003-05:00

One of my New Year's resolutions- or was it a turning-40 resolution? - is to wear nicer clothes. Actually, that's not exactly it. I have nice clothes. Thanks to the amazing thrift stores in my area, I have some very nice clothes.

I'm a sucker for Anne Taylor (I like her style, but also she sizes well for petites).

But I can go a week happily wearing the same jeans. So my resolution is actually to wear the nice clothes I have- rather than my go-to outfit, jeans and whatever.

So far it's going fairly well, but I'm finding that it takes more energy than I'm used to putting into getting dressed. I'm hoping that it will be the kind of thing that takes less energy as time goes on and then becomes second nature. I have an inkling that this is the kind of thing that other adults learned years ago, but la de da...I was learning other things, I suppose.

One thing I've already figured out is that I have to get a handle on pants length. Being short but with junk-in-the-trunk makes pants shopping no fun. It seems that everything is long and/or won't fit over my behind. Then again, sometimes petite pants are cut toooo short and I end up with high waters. Sigh. See! it was easier not caring.

On a related note, I have to figure out my actual size. Up until I got pregnant, I was a 4/6. After I got pregnant... well, I wasn't any more. Now I'm an 8/6 which is fine, but my mental image of my size is still of the smaller me. I have a hard time imagining myself in clothes that are appropriate in size and style for my body because that's not how I see my body. And conversely, I often picture myself looking good in things that, when I try them on, look ridiculous. And then there's the matter of the redistribution of assets.

Yeah. Everything is all shifted around. And while I'm not quite saggy , things certainly aren't where they used to be, so I have to figure out where to put them. Haha.

Also, I'm taking the leap back into heeled shoes. It's been years since I wore anything other than a completely sensible shoe, but I've found some very cute wedge heels that are also COMFORTABLE and splurged on some short platform maryjane clog type things. There's probably a name for the style but I don't know it. In any case, they're high but not high heeled, per se and I realized I could wear them with my "petite" pants that are too long.

Don't get me wrong here, I'm not going all fancy on you or anything. In fact, mostly I doubt anyone else will notice a difference in my general wardrobe style.

So far though, I am enjoying the visual design challenge of putting actual outfits together and the feeling that what I'm wearing is a choice rather than a habit.

I'll have to see if summer finds me inexorably drawn back to my summer uniform- jeans, tank top and chaco sandals.

Training

2011-01-31T22:15:00.003-05:00

Big Girl Monster is in training.

She started fencing again and is already really into it. She said she wanted to participate in a tournament as soon as she was ready, so the fencing coach has set up a training plan for her.

The plan includes keeping a fencing journal and drilling footwork three times a week. She also has an extra bouting session after class on Saturdays. The other days a week she will cross train to work on her abs (pilates or yoga or oblique crunches) and swim.

Her first practice tournament will be in April.

I'm certainly not going to push her, but if she's into it, I will help her by providing the structure for her practice. It will be interesting to see if it lasts.

En garde! Et la!

Lemon Merengue Cupcakes

2011-01-30T17:26:00.000-05:00

She bakes!!!

Billy

2011-01-29T21:50:00.000-05:00

Completely against my better judgement, I let Baby Monster buy a guinea pig. I do not like this type of pet. I believe they are often neglected; they are not meant to live confined in cages; they necessitate a box of excrement be kept in the house. And for the sheer reason that I do not need any more responsibility than I already have.

His god-sister, Violet, got one for Christmas and he has been asking, begging, wheedling ever since. He got me to the pet store "just to look at them"- oh why am I such a fool? I swore, "We are not going to buy ANYTHING!" And then somehow we left the store with a tiny little pig.

The next morning, he woke up early wanting to hold Billy. I asked him to wait til I was up, but some time before 7, I was fully awakened to the news that Billy was missing.

There was much gnashing of teeth and many tears. And on my part, a bit of yelling and "I knew this was a bad idea"ing.

Ultimately, for better or worse, we found him before the cats did. For now Baby Monster spends all his spare time holding Billy and Billy seems to be getting used to it. I'm hoping that one day, he'll even grow to like it. Baby Monster is very gentle and loving with him, at least.

Tonight he said to me, "I was just day dreaming. I thought about me and Billy under a rainbow. We were running towards each other and then we got in each other's arms and we kissed."

Well, that's love for ya.

Running

2011-01-20T20:58:00.002-05:00

I've never liked running. Although, come to think of it... I was on the track team for a while. And I briefly ran cross-country in college. Before I figured out what college is really for (hint: it's not running).

I was always a fairly naturally fit person, but I've been feeling more and more out of shape since... well, since I got pregnant. So for all of my 30's really. I just turned 40, so that's kindof a long time.

I've been doing yoga more or less regularly for at least 5 years now and I love it, but while it helps with de-stressing and flexibility, it does nothing for my cardio health.

Last summer I started swimming. That felt really good and I didn't want to lose my momentum and I noticed that several facebook friends were working on the Couch to 5k running program. So I decided to give it a go.

I started it last September when it was still really hot out. While the kids did soccer practice, I ran around the park. At first you just have to run for one minute at a time and then walk for 90 seconds, then run for 90 seconds, and on and on, so it starts really slow. That was good. It didn't feel to challenging and I stuck with it because I could do it and not feel like a total wimp.

Soccer ended, the weather grew colder. The program has you running three days a week and for the most part, I stuck to that, but some "weeks" lasted longer than others. The runs got longer and longer. Late November found me running 25 minutes around the lake while the kids scooted along on their scooters.

Then it got super cold and then the holidays came. The program is only supposed to last 9 weeks and I was stalled at the end of 8 weeks. Grrrr. I did do the treadmill at my parents' house over Christmas. And we've been swimming at the local indoor pool at least once a week, but I wasn't able to get to that last week.

Until now! It has been just warm enough this week (43 yesterday felt downright balmy!) for me to finish the final week of three 30 minute runs!

I don't think I go very fast, but I'm very proud of myself that I stuck with it and that I can run 3 miles now!

Now when the kids complain about how old I am, I tell them that that's why we go running. I'm trying to keep my heart healthy so I can be with them for as long as possible!

A few friends have encouraged me to enter a race. I'm not sure. One of the things I like about the running is that I'm alone with my thoughts. In a race, I'll be with other people and that might annoy me. Plus when I'm alone, there's no pressure to look good or go fast. I like the no pressure.
We'll see though. It might be fun.

And I need a new challenge.

Stuff

2011-01-19T17:54:00.002-05:00

My housemates have been living downstairs for a year and a half now. There was a settling in period (and sometimes their habits still drive me crazy) but now we are all more or less used to each other's quirks, habits and schedules.

One thing though... last fall, I just felt the need to have my kitchen to myself. Yes, it's true, it drove me nuts to find that all the bowls in the house were in a crusty pile under someone's bed or that all the spoons/coffee mugs/food I'd cooked were *poof* missing. But really the need to have my own kitchen was more about my need for independence.

I'm really enjoying this busy, independent, single mom thing and having to share my kitchen was cramping my style.

So I gave my housemates (myself really) a kitchenette in the laundry room downstairs. It has a sink, fridge, double hotplate, microwave, toaster oven, cabinet... all the amenities.

The hardest part of the whole process was losing the storage space that I used to have in the laundry room. Suddenly I had a bunch of stuff and nowhere to put it. Ultimately, I started by cleaning out all the closets, nooks and crannies upstairs. That freed up a good bit of space. Then, I sorted through everything that was in storage. I ended up getting rid of almost all of the stuff I had kept from my years in art school. It was hard, but... I believe a good thing to do. There is really no room in life right now for all that stuff. So I let it go (with love).

I think it is bad feng shui to have stuff under your bed, but too bad, space is precious up here.

The end result of all the sorting and tossing and organizing is that the house (for the next 5 minutes anyway) is super organized. It felt good to touch everything I own. I like knowing were it all is, being able to find it if I need it and not feeling like I'm too weighted down with stuff.

Free, light, unencumbered I float into the new year.

Fasting... or slowing

2011-01-13T07:43:00.002-05:00

After the excesses of the holidays: too much sugar (pop tarts for breakfast!!!), too much t.v., too much running around... I decided that our return to real life in January was the perfect time to slow down and detox from the holidays.

To that end, we are avoiding sugary treats, the tv is on vacation and for me, I've eliminated coffee and beer.

Baby Monster is no so on board with no T.V. He keeps asking, "Can we watch just ONE episode?" and I say, "The TV is on vacation." And then he stamps his feet and makes a whiny little sound and eventually goes to do something else or hovers near me bouncing off of things until I find something for him to do. It's no problem for Big Girl Monster. Her favorite occupation remains going into her room and listening to Harry Potter CD's.

Quitting coffee was hard to wrap my head around. I've been a committed coffee drinker for 20+ years. I've had occasional breaks, but this is the only one in memory that wasn't prompted by illness or pregnancy (same diff). But actually quitting was easy. I just. didn't. drink. coffee. Voila.

The first two days, I took a preemptive advil and felt a little sleepy, but that was it. I thought I would have the DT's or something. Now it feels really good to be off the juice. I have fewer severe dips in energy throughout the day. I'm not sure if I will stay clean after January (I do love coffee) but for now it's nice to get it out of my system.

Other than that, every nook and cranny of the upper level of my house (which is the little apartment that we live in) has been cleaned, organized and decluttered. I think I've laid a hand on every possession I have- and I include in that all of the children's toys and their room (which really needed a major clean out.) It feels good to know what I have and where it is in case I need to use it.

I think we will make this January fasting/slowing an annual tradition.

Paul

2010-12-31T17:54:00.000-05:00

Buche de Noel

2010-12-26T17:44:00.000-05:00

Christmas at my parents'

2010-12-26T12:23:00.003-05:00

At my parents house, I am still a child, chided and chastened and coddled. And, the thing that never leaves me, I'm a parent, too, chiding and chastening and coddling.

We pilgram here each year with eager hearts. We are eager for ping pong and scrabble. For the attention of grandparents, aunts and uncles. For delicious food. For television. And presents.

The tree is grand and beautiful, but it is no match for the splendor of the presents that pile and spill below its boughs. Children's teeth tingle with anticipation so vibrant that they can only sleep after watching two long Christmas movies. Of course, the adults don't mind if they stay up late; maybe then they'll sleep a little later in the morning.

Christmas morning finally comes and after an interminable wait for 8 a.m, presents are opened in a flurry of bows and wrappings. Ooohs and ahhhs! Wows! and hmmms...

The excitement, the late night, the giddy emotion and the bitter decent after the last package is ripped open. There is nothing left under the tree. They search through the ocean of torn paper and wilted bows. There are a few gifts still intact waiting for their recipients to arrive and the tags of these are duely checked and rechecked -- just in case.

Despite a bounty of plenty, she is just a little sad because he got more and he is a twinge disappointed because he didn't get any electronic gifts. I am mildly devastated because despite my best efforts, they are not fully satisfied and mostly because they are so awfully entitled.

And then we begin to put together toys: a pirate ship, a game. We play. We read new books. We draw. And somehow equilibrium is found again. Everyone is back on even keel. The bounty of presents tumble out of cardboard boxes and scatter across the floor of the guest bedroom. There are toys everywhere.

The rest of the day is spent preparing the feast, which of course includes roast beast for the roast beast eaters. We make pies and rolls, sauces and sides. It is all orchestrated by my mother. There is a steady flow of helpers in and out of the kitchen and everyone gets a task. Baby Monster sets the table with Grandpa. While we cook, we make fun. We air grievances. We are silly and then at turns serious. We speak ill of the dead- and of the living.

We narrowly avoid full blown arguments -- which may be a minor Christmas miracle in itself. Of course, not everyone is here, so there are fewer nerves to get on.

After we eat, the kitchen must be cleaned. This may be my favorite part of Christmas Day. The kids escape as soon as they are able. My mom, who has been cooking all day, settles down in her chair to rest her feet. The rest of us descend like ants packing and wiping, scraping and scrubbing until the kitchen gleams like crystal in candlelight.

Later we eat pie.

Christmas Eve

2010-12-24T17:47:00.000-05:00

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

2010-12-24T12:58:00.000-05:00

Besides the fact that I'm really not suited to cold weather, I really do love the Holiday season. Thanksgiving is wonderful because it is spent with friends and immediately after it is over begins a flurry of Christmas cheer. As soon as possible, we acquire a tree, decorate the house, begin playing Christmas songs and baking holiday goodies.

This year, even more than most, I was caught between the need to do things (for work, for school, for the house) and the desire to celebrate the holiday in a mad fury of activity.

Our fantabulous Christmas season included carolling with friends on at least 3 occasions (my favorite), 2 parties, making a large quantity of cookies and hosting a "cookie swap," decorating the tree and house, festivities at church, making presents for friends and teachers and a walk through the holiday lights at Brookside gardens.

This season, we did not get to the awesome Holiday cards I had planned in my mind, the rum balls (I knew just when to make them so they would be perfectly aged... and saw that window close), visiting Santa, going to the live nativity at the mormon temple, seeing the nutcracker, seeing a Christmas Carol and listening to all 500 songs on my ipod's Christmas playlist.

That's sort of what I love about the holiday season. There's never, ever enough time to do it all. You have to pack in as much merriment as you can in a tiny window of time.

And then-- poof-- it's over, skidding into the denouement of Christmas Day itself.

Elving

2010-12-19T17:41:00.000-05:00

It costs 13 hours

2010-12-02T13:51:00.003-05:00

I think I've figured out where all my time has gone. Baby Monster, bless his little time sucking heart, is consuming it.

It seems that his life as a first grader is much more involved than in any year previous.

For one thing, there's homework. I'm not a big fan of homework. The literature on its effectiveness is mixed, at best. Big Girl Monster is learning just fine, well beyond grade level without homework.

Now, in first grade, there's not A LOT of homework. 10 or 15 minutes at most. But when you put 10 or 15 minutes into Baby Monster time, it ends up taking much much longer. He does not have what one might call "focus." And while he gets very upset when he doesn't do well in school, this in no way motivates him to apply himself to his homework. Not to mention the difficulty level. He's way advanced in math, so the math homework is super easy (read: boring), but he's still struggling with reading and spelling, so he hates doing it. So that's about 4 hours a week for homework.

Then there's cello. Big Girl Monster has been doing violin for 4 years and Baby Monster has been asking for over a year to play cello. With Suzuki lessons, I've put in a lot of time working with BGM during her daily violin practice. We started getting up early last year so she could practice in the morning before the hecticness of the day set in.

The good news is that Baby Monster LOVES cello and has really taken to it. The bad news is that, as with all things, Baby Monster is...difficult. It's not that he doesn't want to practice. He does. He looks forward to it. It's just that he likes to argue and stall and act goofy. Cello takes 3 hours a week of practice plus 2 hours for his lesson (including driving).

Also, he's joined Boy Scouts this year. It's a minimal commitment but still 1-2 hours a week.

Finally, there's his general high maintenance-ness. Don't get me wrong. I love this kid. He's awesome, witty and sweet. He just requires a lot of energy. Mostly my energy. So let's chalk up 2 hours a week (that's a mild estimate) for Baby Monsters tantrums, arguments, bids for attention and general time wasting.

In total, that's about 13 or more hours a week EXTRA devoted to Baby Monster.

Sometimes I get frustrated with all the energy that he needs. I wonder what the return will be on this investment. The thing I've realized, though, is that parental energy is a gift. A possibly entirely unrequited one. I mean, we all want our kids to appreciate and love and honor us, right? But there's no guarantee of any of that any of our parental devotion will be returned or acknowledged. And of course, I want him to be a wonderful happy person. I believe that he will be. I believe that my efforts may be rewarded with a responsible, dashing, productive, loving son. But who knows what might happen?

We lay so many things away for the future and look forward to rewards that may never come to us. But parenting is for now.

Now is the reward.

Veggie Sweet Potato Shepherd's Pie

2010-11-22T19:03:00.002-05:00

I'm so excited! I've really been enjoying reading through the Essential New York Times Cookbook, but since I've gotten to the meat section, it's been harder to pay attention since most of the recipes, I'm not interested in making. However, I'm committed to reading through it because I think I'm learning about cooking even from the recipes I'm not interested in making. And the period details and notes are often fascinating.

Today I got to put my new cooking knowledge to the test with an impromptu kitchen experiment. Baby Monster cooks dinner once a week. He gets to plan the menu (including dessert) and I help him cook and serve the meal. He LOVES it. He loves cooking and he has gotten really into planning dessert. Last week we made a whole chocolate cake. We're not really a regular dessert family, so this is very unusual and quite a treat, but I figure it's good incentive to get him to learn about and enjoy cooking.

Tonight we were slated to make Vegetarian Shepherd's Pie which I had talked him into because I wanted to try a recipe from the book and thought that one could be easily veggi-ized by using veggie crumbles fake meat. Plus we had all the other ingredients on hand. Or so I thought...

In fact, what I thought were potatoes from the CSA, were SWEET potatoes from the CSA. Suddenly it was almost 6 pm, I had 2 hungry kids and our plans for dinner were falling through- what to do???

I used the basic idea of Shepherd's Pie but adapted it to be a more sweet potato friendly dish.

Here's what we did:

Cube about 6 cups of fingerling sweet potatoes and boil til tender.

Meanwhile, saute 1/3 cup finely chopped onion and 1 clove garlic in 1 TBS oil in a deep cast iron skillet. When onion and garlic were soft, I added 1 TBS curry powder, 1 TBS Cinnamon, 2 tsp powdered ginger, 1 tsp cumin and 3 tsp whole fresh coriander seeds. I cooked for 2 more minutes.

Then I added the frozen veggie crumbles. When they were thawed, I added one medium apple sliced into small, thin slices and 1/2 cup of seedless raisins. Then I added 1 cup of vegetable broth and let it simmer for about 10 minutes.

When the potatoes are soft, drain them then mash with 1/2 cup apple cider 1/2 tsp salt and 3 TBS brown sugar.

We spread the mashed sweet potatoes onto the "meat" mixture still in the cast iron pot, then dotted the top with 1 TBS butter and baked in a 350 degree oven for 20 minutes.

It was really good!!!

The Lonliest Number

2010-11-19T12:48:00.002-05:00

The other day, I ran into a friend of mine at the farmers market. She had her two kids with her and said that her partner was out for the evening and it just seemed too lonely to make dinner without him, so they'd ventured out in search of dinner.

I'm sure she did not mean to imply anything about my life and its loneliness level-- given that I make dinner for my two kids without a partner every day... In fact, I know where she's coming from. It's really the contrast, the void, that makes the lonely. If you're used to having someone there, it can seem very lonely when they're not.

But then you get used to it. When I first became a single parent, doing anything made me feel lonely. I was used to planning everything with someone else, so the mere act of thinking of what to do with the kids by myself reminded me of the sudden void. Being busy made me feel lonely because there was no one to share the burden of business with and no one to talk about the business to. Having free time was worse because then I would have to fill, by myself, our seemingly vast stretches of time. Cooking dinner was lonely, going to bed was lonely, waking up was lonely, driving was lonely, even working- something I always did alone-- seemed more lonely because there was not one to go home to on the other end of it.

But then, magically, or not so magically, the void filled up. Life is just normal again. It never feels lonely to cook dinner. Usually one or more kid is helping and one or more kid is already starving, asking when dinner will be ready. The radio plays NPR. There are projects on the table and toys on the floor. Friends may-- or may not-- join us... but there is nothing missing. Life is whole.

And so it is with all the other things of life- sleeping, waking up, working-- there's no room for loneliness. It's just life as it is. And it actually feels quite wonderful to be living it with the people I share it with: myself, my kids, friends, family.

There is one place, though, where the loneliness still lingers. Parenting alone, I've decided, has got to be one of the loneliest endeavors. When my kids are pushing my every button or when they are inconsolabley sad or when I'm maxed out and can not be the mother I want to be... when they are angry and acting out and I am stressed... when our home feels frazzled instead of cozy... that's when I feel the void.

I look about for someone to lean on... someone who can step in...a reassuring look (just a glance that says "Don't worry- you're not fucking everything up!")...a moment of shared understanding of the intensely surreal beautiful and hellish moments of parenting.

And seeing that no one is there, the sudden realization that IT'S. ALL. ON. ME.

I'm the one who has to fix it, clean it up, make it go away... make it all better-- all by myself.

Fortunately, these days, those times are fairly few and far between. Un-lonely times of making dinner or driving around singing at the top of our lungs to Taylor Swift are much more common.

For that, I'm thankful. And I'm also thankful that when the loneliness does descend and I don't know what else to do, we can all just crawl under the covers together and read a book or watch a movie, snuggle close and fall asleep- waking to a better day.

In which my car is taken

2010-11-11T11:47:00.002-05:00

There are a few odds and ends yet to attend to. For some reason, the way it worked out, my car is in The Beast's name and his car is in mine.

I've actually been trying to fix that, but of course, that requires multiple trips to the DMV, hours of standing in line and mountains of paperwork.

Somewhere in this mess of bureaucracy, the registration expired.

Meanwhile, we planned a trip to Philly to visit the Philly friends and to attend their annual Halloween extravaganza. The theme this year was "Mythology," so we planned accordingly.

I was Rhea, mother of the gods, Big Girl Monster was Artemis, goddess of the hunt (a role to which she took to astonishingly well) and Baby Monster was Poseidon.

On the afternoon of our planned departure, I ran from work, quickly packed, and made ready to leave. As soon as BGM got home from school, we jumped in the car and set off to pick up BM and head directly out of town.

Unfortunately, we were derailed by the police just 3 blocks from home. I was pulled over for having an expired registration and for some reason, the officer decided to impound the car in addition to giving me a ticket.

As she did this, she made it clear that she did not have to impound the car. She could have stopped with the ticket, but "the law allowed" her to impound the car, taking the keys from me right then and there.

Amid sobs from BGM, we walked home pulling our suitcases and holding what Halloween paraphernalia we could rescue from the trunk. To make matters just that much worse, I could not break my car out of jail myself because it was not in my name. It would require cooperation and coordination, ticket paying and more waiting in line. Unfortunately, that could not happen until Monday.

The weekend was saved when some good friends offered to loan me their extra car. We made it to Philly afterall and enjoyed some much needed recreating while I tried not to stress about the fate of the car waiting, lonely in the impound lot.

What is there to do in a crisis but to deal with it bit by bit? Monday came and bit by bit, hour by hour, dollar by dollar, I got my car back. It cost me a whole day of waiting and/or running around as well as about $1000, but in the end, I got it back and it's now in my name.

The only lasting result of the whole unfortunate escapade is that BGM has learned that not all police officers are there to help you. It is sad but necessary perhaps that she learn first hand a healthy mistrust of authority and uniform.

A Dinner! A book!

2010-10-27T06:59:00.000-04:00

The older I get, the more I appreciate the sensual act of eating. I love good food. One of the main reasons that I am a vegetarian is that I have no patience with what generally passes for food in our culture. Most of the food- highly processed, instant, reconstituted, chemical-filled beyond recognition-that can be found in the grocery store is not food. It is industrial chafe. And the way meat is produced. Gross. I would much rather kill and eat my own small game- rabbits and squirrels anyone?- than eat the meat that is usually available for general consumption. I can't afford in time or money what it would take to purchase and prepare meat the way that I'd be willing to eat it. And I can happily feed myself and kids without it, so no big deal.

Anyway, this is not about industrial food production or about eating vegetarian. It's about a very fancy dinner that I went to.

It was my friend's idea. She got a bee in her bonnet and I got one too. She heard about Supper Club which is a "restaurant" that appears at an undisclosed location once a month. We had to go. And her husband kindly indulged us.

This event was planned around the newly released "Essential New York Times Cookbook" by Amanda Hesser. I'm not enough of a foodie for this to have meant anything to me, but 12 course tasting menu, fancy meal and undisclosed location all sounded super fun.

It was only as I was exiting the metro and walking down 9th street to the little gallery where the dinner was held that I realized that this meal would probably NOT be vegetarian. It took me about half a block to wrap my head around that and then I was good to go. 12 little courses of yummyness! Well, all that is, except the liver pate course. I'll eat just about anything, but I just can't get on board with liver. uhg.

The first course was a tiny jello cube of Bordeaux wine sprinkled with poprocks (to mimic the experience of sparkling wine). And that was pretty much how the rest of the meal went. Adventurous, fun and tasty. Plus we began with champagne and continued on with 4 other wine pairings.

So now for pleasure reading, I have been working my way through the giant tome that is Amanda Hesser's cookbook. I've made it through drinks and soups and am working on salads. The book includes recipes from over 100 years of NYT food columns as well as cooking notes and interesting historical tidbits. Big Girl and I got particularly excited about fried olives.

Eventually, some day, I will actually cook some of the recipes.

If you're lucky, I will try one on you.

Time shrinks and 30 pages expands

2010-10-25T06:17:00.001-04:00

Somehow time, it seems, has gotten smaller. There's not enough room in it anymore to do even half of the things that need or want to be done. At first I thought that I must be wasting a lot of time or being lazy. I thought I must be spending too much time on facebook or reading too much or just wantonly letting the work pile up.

But after careful analysis, I realize that this is not true. I'm not being lazy. I haven't just been sitting around. In fact, I've hardly taken any time lately just for myself.

At some point, I realized that I should really go out, so I went out a few times and it was really fun, but the really unfair thing is that going out seems to shrink time even more. Anything that doesn't get done while I'm out... like sleep or homework or laundry, is ten times harder to fit into normal space-time.

Also, the kids have not had a normal week of school where they're both in school on time for a full day for a full five day week yet. Not one. Between holidays and teacher days and sick days and half days and late days...

So everything is piling up. The laundry is piling up. The leaves are piling up. The list of things to do is piling up.

Oh but one thing that's not piling up is my dissertation proposal. It's just not getting any longer. I have to write 30 pages. Just thirty little pages. But I can't seem to get it done.

Theoretically I have two days a week dedicated to writing. At the beginning of the Fall, I had fantasies of putting a load of laundry in, writing for a while, going for a walk, getting dinner started, writing, writing, writing.

Hahaha.

I think that happened exactly once.

I keep thinking about the future. Where I'll work, where I'll live, how life will look. And my brain keeps working in a loop. I think of the future. I think of how to make the future reality. And I always come back to the proposal. I can't do ANYTHING until the proposal is finished.

Just write the 30 pages and get on with your life.

I am working on it. Whenever I can. It's not like I'm not doing it. That's what's so frustrating. I've never seen anything grow so slowly. Millimeter by millimeter.

There is a saying in Swahili, "Haba na haba, hujaza kibaba." (Slowly by slowy the water pot is filled).

And that it seems is how the dissertation proposal gets done as well.

A night at the Theater

2010-10-20T23:32:00.002-04:00

The summer social season ceased abruptly with the closing of the pool. Even now, in early fall, I'm starting to feel winter coaxing me into hibernation. I think, "I should go out more." and then already the moment passes and I'm on to doing whatever must be done in the next moment. I never get past the should.

A friend texted to say that he had free tickets to a play. Immediately, I started hunting for a babysitter. I can't even reckon how long it's been since I'd been to a real live theatrical performance. "Pick me up at 7!" I texted back.

Nevermind that it was a school night and it would totally throw off our routine. And nevermind that it was soccer night and I would have to rush to pick up kids, get them ready for soccer, leave soccer early then throw on an outfit and be ready to walk out the door in 10 seconds or less. Sometimes, Mama's gotta go out.

So out I went with minimal protest from the peanut gallery. Out into the night. Out into the chilly air. Out into the city. To a little theater. And down the street from the theater, a small chocolatier with a shiny gold floor, sparkling countertops, tiny truffles in gleaming glass cases and to- go cups of hot, hot chocolate in many exotic flavors.

Hot chocolate in hand we ran back into the theater just in time to be seated for the performance. And just in time for the house manager to whisk the paper cups out of our hands. No food or drinks in the theater. So the lights went down and the play began. My own life got to rest for a moment. There was a broad pause while the actors put it all on for us.

And there was only the sharply sweet taste of the chocolate and the sting of where the hot had touched my tongue to remind me that when they were done doing what they do, real life would flicker on again-so that the by-then thickly luke-warm chocolate could be reunited with the yearning of that first hot sip.

Of course, later, head full of an evening out, belly finally full of chocolate, I found two lumps in my bed. Two warm, soft, breathing lumps. Precious lumps whose dreams could not abide my absence.

And so the night was sweet.

Energy sponge

2010-10-12T12:29:00.002-04:00

Baby Monster went through a terrible phase this last summer when for about a month, he had terrible, long, violent tantrums. It was awful.

Then, he seemed to resolve whatever was fighting inside him. He calmed. He grew 2 inches. He more or less settled into first grade.

Last week, he spent the week in a viral, fever-delirium, wanting to be held constantly. That was exhausting.

And too, while he's not tantruming so much these days, he is just...difficult. He argues with everything. He can be so unpleasant and disagreeable. He fights with his sister. He flies into a rage at the drop of a hat. This is also exhausting.

Last night he threw a fit about... something. I had to hold him on my lap while he raged for 30 minutes to get him to calm down. He tried to hit me and thrashed around but at the same time, he clung to me. Finally, I understood that he was upset about his report card. He didn't get the "grades" that he wanted. He was disappointed in himself. (I can't believe they grade children at this stage of learning. It's ridiculous.) We talked; we made dinner.

After dinner, he started again. "You're mean." (because I wouldn't let him play video games).

"I hate you,"he added, and then, "You're dumb." Followed by, "Will you play cards with me?"

I replied, "No. I don't play cards with people who are so rude to me."

He had another fit and threw the cards in the air. It took another 20 minutes to get him to pick up the cards.

"Will you play cards with me?" he tried again.

"NO! I don't feel like playing cards with you. You are being so difficult."

Argh!

He so clearly wants connection. He wants my attention and my nurturing. It's so hard when he pushes and pushes and pushes, but I'm supposed to just be there all the time.

I do it though. I muster every ounce I have to be patient with him and to set limits. I try to be with him but not indulge him.

I don't know. It's no wonder I'm so tired by the time I get those two in bed. Exhausting.

She creates

2010-10-10T22:08:00.004-04:00

I've always loved to make things. When I see something cool in a store, my first thought isn't, "Wow! I want that thing!"

Instead, it's almost always, "Wow! I want to make a thing like that. How is it made?"

And once I figure out how to make somehthing...once I prove to myself that I can make it, I don't usually need or want to make it again. Knitting is a good example. I figured out how to knit. I spent a season knitting scarves and hats and stuff. And now, I don't need to knit any more. Sadly, I have very little desire to perfect; mastering the processes is enough for me.

I've always enjoyed making things for and with the kids. One of my favorite times of year is Halloween because that's when we get to make costumes. Up til now, they've had more of a conceptual and helping role rather than a project designer role. This year, though, BGM switched things up on me.

We're going to a Haloween party where the theme is "Mythology." Immediately, BGM decided she wanted to be Artemis. She's soooooo excited about her bow and arrows! Baby Monster is going to be Poseidon- and he has definite ideas about how to achieve this. I'm going to be Rhea, Chronus' wife, mother of the gods. I like her because she has lions at her feet.

We talked briefly about how to make costumes to express these characters, but we have plenty of time til the party, so there is no rush to get them done. BGM, however, just can't wait. One afternoon, she began rummaging around here and there. She pulled out some old pillow cases and asked to use them. Fine, I said.

A while later she emerged from her room excstatic! She had fashioned the tunic of Artemis from the two pillow cases. As well, she had made herself a moon themed headband (since Artemis is also a goddess of the moon). She was thrilled with herself and her creativity. "Look what I can do with just 2 pillow cases! I am such a good costume designer!"

I felt a twinge of sadness not to be the one making the costume or not to be doing it with her, but overall, I felt so happy that I had passed on my love of creating something awesome from random scraps.

And lucky for me, the costume is not quite complete. She's asked for a bit of help in figuring out how to make a bow and arrows.

Another reason to move to Canada

2010-10-03T20:51:00.003-04:00

To my boy with his hands down his pants, I said, "Please get your hands out of your pants."

"But I want to play with my penis while you read to me," he protested.

"It's not polite to play with your penis in public. You can go in the bathroom and play with yourself if you want to, but I'm going to keep reading to your sister now."

Defeated, he took his hands out of his pants and declared, "Man... I hate America."

Things they say

2010-09-26T22:17:00.003-04:00

Our lice infestation seems to have ended, but I have to check heads for several weeks just to make sure. I was checking Big Girl Monster's hair, sitting out on the deck to take advantage of the bright sunlight. Her hair is long, thick, straight and blonde. That means that it is very beautiful and that it takes a long time to check.

I think I said something about her beautiful hair, in the midst of lamenting how long it was taking to check it. "I guess I get my good looks from Dad," she said. It's true. She does look a lot like her dad- long and lean.

"I guess that means your brother gets his good looks from me," I said. He looks like me. Brown eyed, solid and muscular.

"Or he gets his bad looks from you," she said.

"What? I'm not all that bad looking," I protested.

"Well.." she hedged.

"What?! What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Mom. You have wrinkles. Your skin... is all... wrinkly."

For the record, my skin is really not all that wrinkly.

"Uhm. Really? You think I'm all wrinkly? You know wrinkles can be beautiful. You know. People can be beautiful at all different ages."

"Mom. When I look at you and I see your wrinkles. It reminds me that you're going to die. I DON'T WANT YOU TO DIE."

Wow. At that, she began to hug me and cry. (But really, I do not have about-to-die type wrinkles).
__________________________________________________

I sat reading on the couch. Baby Monster padded out of his bedroom, crawled up onto the couch and curled up at my feet. I read on for a while.

"Mom," he said. "Can I speak to you?"

"Ok. What's up, Sweetie?"

"Can we talk?" he asked.

"Sure, Honey. What do you want to talk about."

"I want us to talk. I mean, I want you to say one thing and then I'll say another."

"Oh. You want to chat?"

"Yeah. We'll each take a couple of turns and then I'll fall asleep. You start. Say something."

We chatted for a minute. And then, as promised he fell asleep.

The Hard Sell

2010-09-20T10:19:00.000-04:00

We spent the weekend at a mountain resort. Our trip was free. Well. Let me rephrase that. Our trip was payed for in time and stubbornness.

It was one of those things where they give you a free trip but you have to let them try to sell you a time-share. I've had friends who have done it and I figured it would be a good way to get some free vacation.

In fact, all in all, I think it was a pretty good deal. We had to tour the resort for about an hour. It was a beautiful day and the tour was pleasant, so no big deal there.

The painful part was when I declined my tour guide's offer to buy the time share for some ridiculously expensive price ($56,000, I believe). She then had to get the "inventory manager" who came to give me the hard sell.

Don't I want to make memories with my children? Do I really want to vacation with them in places where there are motorcylce gangs and drugs and teen pregnancy? Did I know that if I don't relax, I will surely die an early death from stress?

As he spoke he actually drew some diagrams to underscore his seriousness and, I guess, to make it easier for me to understand that if I didn't accept his offer I would jeapardizing all of our well being.

When I still declined, he made his final offer, the lowest he could go "since I'm a teacher and not well off, but well educated and the type of person they like to round out the community." He then urged me to do what was "right" and accept his offer.

I simpley don't understand this type of selling technique and it certainly doesn't work on me. If their product is good and if it's something that I want to buy and something that I can afford, I'll buy it. If it's not, then why do they want to trick or humiliate or force me into it? Ugh.

In the end, we got out of there without buying a time-share but with two certificates for hotel and ski passes for 4 plus our hotel and waterpark pass for this weekend.

I can only hope that I haven't compromised my family's future and the very future of humanity by not buying their time-share, but, for now, it seems like it was a pretty sweet deal.

Behavior-o's are a win

2010-09-19T22:05:00.002-04:00

As described last week, I have implemented a behavioral reinforcement system using colored discs called "behavior-o's". The kids get them for... well, really any behavior I want to reinforce such as getting brushing teeth in the morning without having to be reminded or using kind words to talk to the sibling or being extra helpful or doing a chore.

Behavioral reinforcements, apparently, are most effective if they are 1. immediate and 2. periodic. Behavior-o's work pretty well as an immediate reward. I need to remember to put some in my purse so I can dole them out when we're away from the house.

They are also periodic which means that there is no guarantee of a behavior-0 for any given behavior. This is meant to circumvent the idea of "If I do that what will I get?" or "I'll be good if you give me a reward."

I've been very explicit that the behavior-o's are to help remind them of things they working on and not meant as a one to one payment system. Also, I only give out; I don't take them away, so they are intended as positive reinforcement rather than as punishment/reward.

So far the behavior-o's are a resounding success. The kids love them! And from my point of view they are, so far, working very well to get the kids to think about their behavior. They love spending them on screen time, treats, and trinkets at my newly opened "Behavior-o Store." The store has toys and books from the thrift store that can be purchased for varying amounts of tokens.

Big Girl Monster is very good at saving both money and Behavior-0's. Baby Monster, on the other hand, tells me every day that he's going to start saving tomorrow. There is an interactive plush baby leopard in the behavior-0 store that he REALLY wants, but he can't, just can't, save for it.

I may add in a saving incentive, sort of like earned interest, but for now, I figure we'll work on one thing at a time.

Infestations

2010-09-15T22:22:00.002-04:00

Camping was lovely. Friends, campfire, beach, songs... crickets, night sounds, nature hike... all lovely. Nest of ticks... not so lovely.

I spent hours picking ticks off the kids. Tiny ticks. Little, teeny, tiny ticks. Hundreds of them. The ticks began by swarming up their legs in a wave of tiny creepy-crawly tickiness.

They ended up everywhere. And so everywhere was where I had to pick them from. Yep. Everywhere.

That was camping. Closer to home, there has been an epidemic of lice going around the under 10 set in our little town. This is our first experience of lice. And I daresay, I hope it's our last.

All together, we had no more than a tiny handful of actual lice but I realized that it doesn't matter how few lice you have. If you have more than zero, you have to go through the whole rigmarole.

Shampoo, comb, coat with olive oil, comb, pick, comb, cover, check. I combed Baby Monster's hair while he slept one night.

Big Girl Monster kept getting sent home from school. I would comb and comb again through her long thick blonde hair and find a single nit on her head. And then the next day and then the next.

I guess I finally got that single last one because today she was cleared to return. I have to keep checking for the next few weeks just to make sure. Some families have had them much much worse, so I know we got off luck (so far) but I'd like to not repeat it.

I'm not afraid of bugs or spiders or even germs, really, but I prefer to live not so closely with them.

Contingencies

2010-09-09T23:06:00.002-04:00

I had a professor who was a behaviorist to the core. He told of training a gold fish to swim through hoops for food. And his research involved seeing how much he had to pay crackheads to not do drugs. He was convinced that given the proper contingency, you could get a person to do just about anything.

A system of rewards can work pretty well with kids. I've seen it in other kids. I, myself, have never been so good at implementing... well, maintaining, such a system. And even the child therapist admits that getting kids to do what you want is way more complicated than that.

Recently we got a smiley face sticker chart. It worked ok for a while, but I think there are too many things on it. And while Baby Monster will cry for 30 minutes because he didn't get a smiley face, getting one is actually not that exciting for him and certainly not enough to motivate him.

At his school, French Immersion, they have a system that uses Euros. The earn Euros for good behavior and then get to spend them at the "Euro store." This is meant as a system of behavioral reinforcement as well as a way to practice using the French currency. It's highly motivating and the kids are constantly taking account of their Euros and looking forward to spending them.

I came up with a new system that I call "Behavior-o's" (sounds like: behave-euros). I cut out small discs in two colors of paper and laminated them to make little coins. Blue for one kid, orange for the other so there is no confusion or thievery.

The kids noticed the coins on my desk and have been dying to know what they are for, so tonight I introduced "Behavior-o's." They are intrigued. They have many questions. "What can I get with a behavior-0? Can you take behavior-o's away? What if I lose all my behavior-o's? What if you run out of them?

I decided to pilot the system even though I'm not totally sure what each behavior-o is worth. I don't want them to be too "expensive" because I want to be able to hand them out frequently to reinforce behavior. On the other hand, I don't want to devalue them or glut the market.

Right now, I'm thinking along the lines of one behavior-o is worth 10 minutes of playing DS or wii or watching a video. One chore done without complaining will earn one behavior-o. One behavior-o is worth 50 cents which equals 1/2 of an ice cream at the pool.

Of course, ideally, I'd like them to be polite, mindful and well behaved without the aid of behavioral contingencies. That's not too much to ask, right? Yeah. Ok. Until then, I'm doling out the "behavior-o's"

If you come over and act real sweet, you just might get one.

A six year old

2010-08-23T10:20:00.000-04:00

Today my little boy turns 6 years old.

Six years ago today, I held his strong and fresh little body next to mine, snuggling together in our mutual exhaustion; I looked into his dark little eyes; he slept and slept and slept (and continued sleeping 23 out of every 24 hours for the first month of his life).

Six years ago today, he was kissed by his sister and held by his Dad and oggled over by his grand parents- already a lucky and well-loved boy.

Today, my new six year old, begins first grade. We know that he got the teacher he wanted, but even so, he says, he is scared. And, he reveals, he may cry.

"It's ok to be nervous on the first day of school," I tell him. "Most kids are."

All weekend long he has been feted and celebrated. He has opened presents and eaten treats.

And now he is off for his first day at school- the first link in the long chain of this school year.

A room of my own

2010-08-19T11:12:00.000-04:00

I thought I would spend the end of summer finishing up my dissertation proposal, but that hasn't happened. I've had terrible writer's block, which is very unusual for me. I gave myself a break after my exams and when I found out I'd passed, I thought I'd get right down to it, but I just haven't been able to. I've found that summering and momming have taken all of my time. And I found that I really didn't want to take time away from those things.

The week that Big Girl Monster was away at sleep away camp, I did sit down in earnest and try to really buckle down, but it was just not happening. The words that usually come easily just swam before my eyes in a meaningless soup. So I bailed on that for the moment. I figured, I could not be writing and totally stress out about it, or I could not be writing and be doing something else instead. I chose option b.

Option b has consisted of rather manically rearranging my house and getting it all put back in order for fall. I started by painting and rearranging the living room. This had to be done in order to accommodate the TV, which I finally had to accept, given our housing configuration with room mates and rooms, is going to go in the living room. So I got a lovely cabinet for it and moved the couch around. Then I added some new shelves along the entry wall- that area is now "the library"!

Several months ago, I moved my bed into the kids' room. This was phase one of transitioning the kids into the larger bedroom and it was also because I was tired of the kids playing video games in my bed, since that's where the tv was. With the TV in its new cabinet in the living room, I moved the kids' beds and all their stuff into the big room. This was even harder than you might imagine because not only was everything in disarray to begin with, and there was a lot of STUFF to deal with, but also, my brother has been staying with us for the summer, sleeping in that room, so with his help, I had to move stuff in around his stuff.

Eventually, he just gave up and moved himself downstairs. I think it was the new curtains that scared him out. There are new teal curtains which the kids love. (They like to play all day in the semi-dark because the light sifting in through the teal curtains makes them feel like they're in an aquarium.) Each child now has a desk, the clothes are all neatly organized on shelves in the closet and all the toys are in place. Plus, there is a fluffy teal carpet that matches the curtains and two bean bag chairs and a reading nook.

My bed stayed in the smaller bedroom, and my desk moved in too. And all of my piles of papers from school and my piles of papers from work and all of my paperwork and bills and boring adult stuff- that all moved in too. And so over the last week, after the initial mania wore off, I still had to sort through papers and put things away and find a spot for everything.

The one thing we did not do was re-paint the bedrooms. The big bedroom is a lovely yellowy orangey mix. It's fine and is a nice contrast for the new teal curtains and carpet. The small bedroom is painted all around with a mural that I did for Big Girl Monster when she was 8 months old. A lawn of flowers and animals rings the room. I had mixed feelings about painting over it and when I broached it with the kids, they were both very against it covering it up.

So I am in my own room that is only my room and not also someone else's room or the tv room for the first time in over 10 years. I'm in my own room and it's full of all my things. It's painted all around with flowers and I can say, "Don't go in my room. It's MY room!"

little fighting monster

2010-08-18T22:49:00.003-04:00

Baby Monster has been giving me a run for my money lately. Everything he's angry about in the world, he is taking out on me. That's about half the time. The other half of the time he's my baby. He wants to be cuddled and kissed and dressed and fed. Either way, he's taking up a lot of energy right now.

The child therapist asks if he acts out with anyone else. "No," I say, "Just me."

"That is good. Very good," he says.

Well, it may be good, but it doesn't feel very good. AT ALL.

It almost always happens lately when he's tired or hungry. He becomes defiant and willful. Then he throws a fit. The fits can last anywhere up to over an hour. The fits are physically and emotionally exhausting for both of us because he throws himself about screaming and I have to make sure he's safe and listen to him scream.

Poor Big Girl Monster just doesn't know what to think. It's stressful for her to see her brother so upset and it takes a lot of my attention away from her. Usually she just disappears up to her bed to read until the storm has passed.

When the fit is over Baby Monster always wants me to hold him. We sit quietly for a while. I think about what I'd planned for that hour that has now been totally derailed and will have to be done some other time or not done at all.

Whatever it was, whatever I had planned for that hour, I'm sure it was not as important as helping my little guy fight demons.

Here is one I want to remember

2010-08-09T22:41:00.002-04:00

JP has been coming to this cabin for 20 years or so. It belongs to his friend, the legendary Lance, who has kindly agreed to let us inhabit it for the weekend.

JP remembers a path to the top of the mountain, Yellow Mountain, that one, you can see it there. You can catch the path just up past the pasture. The pasture that hasn't been mowed in at least several seasons. But he knows the path is just beyond, so we set out through the pasture that is now mostly brambles.

It is me, all four kids, Jp, Sarah and Paul and among us, we bring varying degrees of cheerfulness. Paul, for one, is not all that happy to be stuck midway in the blackberry thicket. Ivy would just as soon turn back- she's 13, that's what they do. Violet is happy as long as she's being carried. BGM is happy to tell us how many times she's gotten pricked by the thorns. BM, fresh from survival camp is ready to make a debris hut and hunker down for the night. A long discussion ensues about what we might eat.

Finally, mercifully clear of the thorny non-path, we reach the edge of the woods. There's really no turning back from here. Back would just mean clawing through more briars, so up we go.

Finally, we reach the foot of the actual path which leads up to the summit of the mountain. We greet some descending hikers, asking how far to the top.

"Oh! It's fantastic! Only about 30 minutes up..." (so far so good) "But you'll definitely need water. Don't go up there on a day like today without water."

Uh Oh. It is a hot day. We are already sweaty, worn out and more than a little cranky. There was one bottle of water among us but there is only one jealously requested sip.

There we stood at the foot of the path. Do we continue? Without water? Do we bail? After fighting our way this far? Do we go back and then return? And then what of the afternoon? And our motivation?

Sarah sighs, looking longingly up the path, "I wish we had water."

And then.. the friendly hikers call up from the road, "Hey! Do you guys need some water? We have plenty of extra water. Sorry all we have is Perrier!"

Sarah wished for water. And we got water. She's kindof magic that way.

So up up up we went. A long walk up for the kiddos, but this time up a real path, with plenty of water, through rhododendrons and over rocks that sparkled with mica. And they made it. We all made it to the top where we found a gorgeous view of mountains, 4 states spread out below us, cool air, and most wonderfully: blueberries. Handfull after handfull of delicious blueberries. We gorged, mouthfull after sweet/tart mouthful.

And then back down the mountain, singing, running, picking flowers. The kids cooled off in the pond. Friends came to spend the evening. We dined on the lawn by the hammock, near the wasps nest, next to the Christmas tree farm, in sight of Cloud Catcher Road, just as the fireflies came out.

dis/trust

2010-07-30T23:51:00.000-04:00

I've had several situations recently that have made me realize just how unsettled I am in my foundation of trust for other people.

It's not that I am DIStrustful. It's that I just have no expectations of most people. I don't expect them to keep their word or look out for me or... ANYTHING. When you don't expect anything, it's very hard to be let down and in many ways, this has made my life much happier. I rely on myself and whatever else comes my way is a gift that I happily enjoy. It's not perfect though. There are still ripples.

For one thing, I was let down by an old friend. He had made plans to visit me a long while ago when I really needed a friend. I was super excited about his visit, but at the last minute, he got a new girlfriend. She didn't want him to visit, so he didn't. Months passed. Then so did the girlfriend. Again, he said he wanted to visit me. I was past the point of needing a friend to visit but it's always great to have visitors and since we always have fun together, I thought it would be great for both of us. Only there was always some reason that he couldn't come. His dog... his job... something. And then last weekend, he contacted me to say that his new girlfriend lives nearby and since he was going to be visiting her, could he stop by to see me?

This has really upset me or should I say, saddened me. It's so cliche to think that the answer lies in sex. And I don't think that, but the alternative then is that I was not worth making the effort to visit for some other reason. I'm not entirely sure why this saddens me so or why it has shaken my trust in friendship, but I know it has to do with feeling like maybe I really will always have to take care of myself by myself without any comfort or respite from an other ever again. And it's not as if I don't have lots of fantastic friends. I do. It's just that, as I said, these things are gifts, not expectations which, while they can certainly ruin things, are also kind of like what made the velveteen rabbit real.

And then, I had another date. Or that is to say, more importantly, a kiss. Because a date is not exciting, but that feeling of "Oh goody! We're going to kiss!" is exciting especially when you haven't kissed anyone in a YEAR and you wonder if you ever will again and if you do whether you'll enjoy it or whether you'll have forgotten how. I am much relieved to report that I did enjoy it and that I had not forgotten how.

But the encounter brought with it some unexpected messiness (unfortunately an altogether too complicated and inappropriate story to be re-told). The reason I had avoided dating and kissing for sooo long was that I was trying to shake that messiness and it was disheartening to realize that I was not free of it at all. I realize now just how tied up I still am, and utterly without the energy to start gnawing my arm- which, of course, will be the only way out.

And that brings me to, or is, in fact, my relationship with the Beast. He is definitely one of the people from whom expecting nothing has brought me great happiness. And it seems that whenever he demands that I expect something from him and I do, that is when I am most unhappy of all.

And so what we have here is a visit that never happened, a great kiss, a relationship without solace, the past without resolution... and the future...

Here is why I can't even imagine dating anyone appropriate, my own age, good for me. Aside from the fact that I am not ready right now and my whole life is not ready right now, when I AM ready, I should be able to imagine that one day I might be able to trust someone. That there might be someone there to take care of me when I'm sick or notice when I'm tired or touch my shoulder gently to let me know that someone is there and keep on touching it and not stop when I relax into that strong gentleness.

I should be able to believe. I should be able to imagine. But I never, ever will.

Still frames in my mind

2010-07-29T22:58:00.002-04:00

We had a great vacation. I mean super great. And it's a good thing that I remember how great it was because, even though it was sitting right next to me the whole way back (the whole all night driving by myself no hotels way back), the camera has gone missing. Sigh.

Here are some things that there will not be pictures of:

Picking handfulls of blueberries on the top of Yellow Mountain, NC
All the kids swimming at the pond at the 200 y.o. homesteader cabin we stayed in
Our visit to the Biltmore House
Swimming in Lake Ontario
Meeting sweet Baby Lila in Toronto
Beaching it on Toronto Island
Many amazing shots of our super fun day in Niagara Falls

This was by far, the longest road trip I've ever driven myself. Down past Asheville, then back up for one night, then up to Toronto and back down via Niagara. And it was all great (except for fight I had to mediate between my housemates when we stopped back through home). We spent time with lots of old friends, met the new baby, had some adventures. A surprising highlight of the trip was our day in Niagara. I thought we'd be there a few hours, but we spent the entire day enjoying the falls, having all the more fun when it started storming and then, of course, marvelling at the beautiful rainbow. There aren't too many things that all three of us are equally thrilled by, but somehow, Niagara caught us all on just the right note.

And now we're back home, ready to enjoy the waning days of summer. It always goes by so quickly!

Passed

2010-07-26T12:25:00.002-04:00

I am floating on my back in the pool. The water is so warm that I can't tell where it ends and the heavy air begins or even, for that matter, where my skin separates from them. The sky is giving us a show with multi-layered clouds, a color gradient from dark purple to brilliant blue with oranges and pinks thrown in for contrast. The trees slowly silhouette themselves against this and then it all begins to reflect off the surface of the pool and since I have become a part of the pool, it is reflecting off of me as well.

Children play and splash around me. My friends are floating next to me, teasing each other and then teasing me. Bats flicker over head.

A minute ago we were sharing banana bread and beer, exchanging neighborhood gossip and chasing babies. A few minutes from now the guards will whistle us out and we will round up our lot, say goodnight.

A few hours ago, we were in the car driving back from our vacation. Yesterday we were standing in the rain, on a boat, close enough to touch Niagra Falls. We are fresh from a wonderful, long road trip and the rest of the summer is spread out before us.

I passed my exams.

No poo = better hair

2010-07-14T18:36:00.003-04:00

Apparently, there is a growing "no poo" movement, so there are lots of people like me who are ditching commercial shampoo in favor of more natural alternatives. What I'm using is insanely simple: for the wash- baking soda; for the rinse- vinegar (heavily diluted with water).

What's interesting is the history of how we came to believe that it was necessary to use commerical shampoo every day. We are taught that it is, in fact, GROSS not to use shampoo daily. But our parents were not brought up that way. They probably used shampoo once or twice a week. And our grandparents, for sure did not use shampoo when they were children. They might have used regular soap on their hair, as needed.

But somehow between then and now we have come to believe-- through the magic of advertising-- that we are GROSS if we don't put some nasty chemicals on our heads on a daily basis. Weird.

So here's the deal: shampoo is very harsh (which is why you need conditioner to undo its damage). It takes away all of the hair's natural defenses. The scalp would like to replace these, so a day or two after the shampooing, the scalp and its sebaceous glands go crazy trying to replace all that natural hair oil. That is why hair feels oily if you don't shampoo all the time. However, if you give it a few days to come to a natural equilibrium, your scalp and hair will chill out and not be so greasey.

I have super annoying, wacky hair that is neither curly nor straight, both sometimes, but always straight when I want it to be curly and curly when I want it to be straight and always, always, no matter what, super frizzy, so I have a very hight tolerance for disappointing hair because it always is anyway. It took a while to get used to the new regime (I've been up to it for about 6 months now). Too much baking soda makes the hair too dry, not enough makes it super duper greasey. It's hard to figure out the right balance.

Another thing is that in its natural state, my hair does not feel like we've been taught it is supposed to. It has more weight to it and more natural oil (but not in a greasy way). It feels heavier and most importantly IT IS MUCH LESS FRIZZY. All of those products that are sold to control frizz are really sold to counteract the havoc wrecked by the stripping chemicals in shampoo.

My hair is not gross or dirty and despite the fact that it smells like a salad for a few minutes after the rinse (vinegar!), by the time it's dry, it smells nice and fresh (not salad-y at all).

bathe ourselves in the chemical glow

2010-07-13T08:34:00.004-04:00

I'm becoming increasingly freaked out by the manufactured nature of everything in our society. it's not JUST all the chemicals and additives and crap that we are surrounded by. It's also just that I wonder how have we come to rely on these things that we must pay money for and that we can't provide for ourselves. Clearly ancient humans-- even humans as far back as 100 years ago-- did not use toilet paper, crest toothpaste, hair conditioner or Tide laundry detergent.

Now, you may say that this is an indication of human progress. That, in fact, our human ancestors would gladly have used Crest if they'd had access to it. And that life is just that much better because of these products. And that we should be thankful that we are living now in the golden age of manufactured glory rather than the dark ages of pre-industry.

But I'm not convinced. You know me. I like to question things. I'm a contrarian. I'm also obsessively interested in why people do the things they do. Why do we use all this crap? Is it really better? Is it really worth the cost in terms of what we pay for it and in terms of the chemicals that we put in and on our bodies and in terms of what the manufacturing process does to the environment?

All of this to say that I've been experimenting with cleaning products and toiletries. I'm finding out which ones I really need, which ones I can make myself and which ones I am comfortable purchasing.

This has been going on for a while now, but for the last 6 months or so, I've been really serious about it. Among the products I'm doing without or making on my own are: toothpaste, deodorant, shampoo, glass cleaner, surface spray, breath spray and foot rub.

Upcoming, I'll be posting more about my various experiments.

Just Breathe

2010-07-11T09:18:00.003-04:00

As usual, we are spending a large part of our summer at the pool. I may have mentioned before how amazing our pool is. We call it the "community back yard". While the children run around in their own tribes, the adults relax on the lawn, under the trees, reading books, chatting, drinking beer. Then after we watch the sun go down, everyone straggles, full, sleepy and satisfied, out to the parking lot, heading home to bed.

Honestly, when I consider whether I will ever move away from here, the pool is on the list of top five things I could not ever replace. I've never seen another pool like it.

So this year, in addition to lounging and child-watching, I've added lap swimming to my list of pool activities. This is very uncharacteristic. I'm not generally into repetitive, pointless, aerobic activities. But I've decided that I'd really like to be in better shape. The years are catching up to me such that I can't rely on my natural strength and stamina to fake it any more.

So I'm swimming. And it's great.

One of the great things about my body is that it really responds very well to activity. I can see results quickly in that I can already feel that what was very hard when I started, is easier now. I can go farther, faster.

The thing is, I'm naturally pretty strong, I'm flexible and I have a lot of muscular stamina. But what I can't do well is breathe. Breathing is very difficult for me. And swimming, therefore, is a real challenge in that regard.

Stroke, stroke, stroke--breathe--stroke, stroke, stroke---- breathe--- 50 meters at a time.

Stronger and stronger. I'm learning to breathe.

Harvesting Coriander

2010-07-05T09:25:00.002-04:00

My herb garden is flourishing. The dill and the cilantro regulary re-seed themselves. The oregano is being kept in check. The rosemary made it through the winter. The mint is not going too crazy. And there are plenty of annuals like basil.

Today we harvested a whole spice jar full of coriander seeds, leaving enough behind for the cilantro that will proliferate in the fall.

Into the woods

2010-07-03T21:33:00.002-04:00

The kids did some amazing camps this week. Actually, it was completely by accident. I had planned nothing beyond my exams and our NC adventures, but I had 4 days of morning teaching left. I figured they could either stay at home with our housemates, come to work and watch movies in my office while I taught or have play dates- likely some combination. Right before we left though, a friend of Big Girl Monster's told us about Jr. Ranger camp which is run by the National Park Service.

The timing was perfect and the camp was amazing. For one thing, IT'S FREE! They don't advertise it, the kids have to write an essay (which for an 8 year old is not that extensive) and you have to hand deliver the application. I guess that's how they manage to keep it under control. She and her friend had an amazing time. Among other things, they went to the Native American Museum, petted a falcon, made dream catchers, made rope from woody plants, went to the top of the Washington Monument and roller skated. She loved it!

As for Baby Monster, the night we got back, a friend of his told us about a really cool camp. The director said Baby Monster could do it even though he's younger than the official age limit. The camp is run by the organization Ancestral Knowledge which is all about wilderness knowledge and survival. Check it out. Totally cool!

So Baby Monster spent the week learning about using knives, building debris shelters, making fires with a bow drill and learning about edible plants. He spent all day, every day running around the woods. And he wins the prize for getting the most ticks-- including one that I had to remove from his man-parts. Totally worth it though!

By Friday, I had graded final exams, turned in my grades- thus finished teaching for the summer- the kids were happy and exhausted! Yay!

Bumper Stickers!

2010-07-01T09:19:00.002-04:00

I've been wanting to get some bumper stickers for a while now. This was one of those things that my parents always prohibited, and then at some point I realized that I couldn't think of any good reason for this policy. And I realized that I am an adult. And that this is my car. And that I can cover it with bumper stickers if I want to.

So I took advantage of the abundance of hippy bumper stickers for sale in the book store of my hippy college... and Volia!

When my stepfather saw it, he said, "Oh no! You're one of THOSE people!!!"

My lovely hippy college

2010-06-30T00:44:00.002-04:00

I had forgotten how much I loved going to Warren Wilson. Or actually how much I love that I went there. Warren Wilson is a total hippy college, nestled in a valley outside of Asheville, North Carolina. When I went there, there were only 500 students (up now to almost 1000). It is a "work college" meaning that all students work on campus doing the work of the campus from cleaning dorms, to working on the farm, to serving food, to writing press releases, to doing plumbing, to administering programs. It is insanely beautiful and whenever anyone would visit, they would always say, "It looks like a summer camp."

Well, this past weekend, it was a summer camp!! The kids and I participated in "Weekend at Wilson". We stayed in a dorm, participated in a bunch of cool workshops and met some new friends.

It was so cool to share my college experience with the kids. We stayed in a dorm, ate in the cafeteria, toured the farm, walked the trails, swam in the river, danced at a contra dance in the pavillion below the formal gardens. They were thrilled!!!

At times, WWC drove me a little crazy when I was a student. 500 people stuck together in a small area gets pretty claustrophobic. We didn't hang out in Asheville, we hung out in each other's dorm rooms and everyone lived on campus (a requirement of the work program). I had to run away to spend my junior year in Africa so I didn't have to see the same faces who knew all of my business day in and day out. And I love making fun of its hippiness, telling people that seeing at least one grateful dead show was a requirement for graduation (I went to 5).

But looking back, that school, for better or for worse, made me so much of who I am today. I love that it is staunchly, stubbornly liberal. I love that the students are hippies, punks, poets, international, baseball playing rednecks. I love that there's an herb garden crew, a mountain biking team, that the showers all have timers and the toilets all say, "if it's yellow, let it mellow...."

And spending time there again, I thought of all that I'd missed when I was there. While my pals and I were obsessively watching movies in the music library (I think we watched every movie ever made), I could have been learning to make tinctures from herbs or grow raspberries or learned the names of native trees or grown shitake mushrooms or made furniture or fixed cars or plowed fields with draft horses.

This, I see, is what it's like to get older. Looking back, fondly, realizing that you can never go back and retrace those steps, make up what you missed. I see why youth is wasted on the young.

But it also reminds me to be thankful of where I came from and to love every second of where I am, since I will never be back.

Home sick/Home town

2010-06-24T12:10:00.005-04:00

Home Town

Magnolias. Bullfrogs.
A sudden storm and then the smell of asphalt after rain.
Running in the sprinkler. Heat and shade.
Sweet tea.
Slow talk. A skink climbing a brick wall.
Southern gothic.
Pine needles underfoot. Cows in the field and
a fiddle on the corner. Rolling hills
and the smell of laughter.
The hipsters are a little softer.
The hippies are a little edgier.
The bookreaders read at dusk on porches.
Scensters gather in the parking lot,
a beautiful contrivance. Thank you
for putting it on for me. Thank you for letting me
watch. Thank you for the southern in you.
This sweetness in the air knocks the breath out of the north
wind. Makes me forget where home is
now.

Tous les deux

2010-06-22T22:46:00.002-04:00

I think mothers always have to balance the part of themselves that is the mother with the part of themselves that is the woman (and this is probably true for many fathers in their fathering). The woman is important. The woman was there before the mother and the woman will remain past the intensity of mothering children.

But when they are small, the mothering is necessarily overwhelming. Despite all the things we do (in our society) to deny the primacy of motherhood, the mother almost always tries to eat the woman. Hopefully, the woman fights back because if she doesn't, when the kids are grown, where the mother was, is left a shriveled raisin. There has to be balance. Balance does not always mean equal. Here's a visual:

It's ok if the mother is huge. But she must maintain balance with the woman. Did I mention that this is very hard. This is very hard. Motherhood is overwhelming physically, emotionally, socially... there's no way around it. It will consume you.

For me, having the kids all the time make is that much harder to balance the woman and the mother. The mother is there all the time, running, working, moving, loving, exerting force.

And then suddenly, the grandparents come, the kids are gone for a week and *POP*!!!

The woman is left standing there, exerting force onto nothingness, reeling backwards because nothing is holding her down.

I spent a week without the kiddos, writing my qualifying exams and along with the intensity of writing, enjoying, reacquainting myself with the woman who is there below the surface of the mother.

It is reassuring to know that she is there, ready to be dusted off and that she enjoys coming out, but it is hard, very hard, to put her back in. I forget about her in the day to day to day of mothering, but once I remember her, I don't want to say goodbye.

As much as I was thrilled to see my sweet little monsters, and loved that they were so happy to see me, part of me was not ready to go back into full on all the time mom mode.

But you know, they are upon me and they devour me.

Exams

2010-06-16T12:41:00.000-04:00

That is all.

Painted Fence Mandala

2010-06-14T15:11:00.004-04:00

With the kids gone and before my exams, I had a little time to work on a long-planned project. I bought the paint for this over spring break and have had not a second to work on it since.

I started with a chalk outline just improvising the design

Then I began filling in sections with color.

And more color.

Adding to the design along the way.

It was a hot day.

Almost finished. I can't decide whether to outline the whole design in black or just leave it.

I'm happy with the finished product. I think it enhances that section of the garden. Mostly, though, in keeping with the idea of a Mandala, I liked how it was very meditative and process oriented. It was a really good activity for the day the kids left. A good way to meditatively transition from on-all-the-time-single-mom to chillin'-single-gal!

tears and oil

2010-06-13T11:56:00.003-04:00

My qualifying exams are coming up this week, so my parents are taking the kiddos on a big adventure. They are going to Asheville to celebrate their cousin's birthday, then they are going to hike 5 miles up a mountain on the border of Tennessee and North Carolina and stay in a lodge with no electricity where llama's carry in all the supplies. They'll be there 3 nights and then on to Gatlinburg and Dollywood (as in Dolly Parton's theme park!!!).

While they're doing all this fun stuff, I'll be writing and writing and writing. And then some more writing. Then I'll meet them in Chapel Hill -- TEN DAYS later!!

This is the longest we've ever been apart and despite their excitment about all their upcoming adventures, as the day grows nearer and nearer, they've started getting nervous about being away from me for such an extended period.

"I miss you when we're away from each other for just one night. How can we be apart for 10 whole days?" asks Big Girl Monster.

"I'll miss you, too," I say. "But I know you'll be having fun and that we'll talk on the phone every day and that I'll be soooo happy to see you in 10 days!"

They feel very comfortable with my parents and they're going to have a great time, so I know they'll be fine, but it's hard for all of us. To be apart and to miss each other.

For me it's like running a marathon and then. just. stopping. I'm winded. and I don't quite know what to do. But it feels good to stop running for just a moment.

Driving to drop off her Junior Ranger camp application a few days ago, BGM asked, "What would happen if the earth had no water, just for a minute?"

"Uhm. I don't know. That's hard to imagine, but I guess it would be devastating. A lot of things would die. I don't think the earth could deal with it."

Silence.

"Mom!! All this oil spilling into the gulf. How will they stop it?"

"I don't know, Sweetie. I don't think anyone knows yet."

"Mom! It's going to affect us all! This is really awful! I don't want to die! What are we going to do?"

Wow. Tears. Sobbing. She's imagining all of the oil replacing all of the water on earth and, well, I just explained what would happen if there were no water. She's worried about plants and animals and about life and about herself. All of her anxiety rolled up into a ball.

"Honey," I say. "You know sometimes when you're worried about one thing, you feel upset about another thing. I know you're stressed out about your trip and that you're going to miss me."

"Yeah, Mom," she says between tears, "You know what I'm stressed out about? THE OIL! That's what I'm worried about, ok?"

Ok, got it.

It's so big. I can't do anything. What is there to be done? We will wait and see how we are affected and in the meantime, we'll go on our adventures. We'll take our exams. And miss each other.

Cool Stuff my Phone does: Part 3 (google maps)

2010-06-10T09:23:00.003-04:00

This is the third and (I believe) final installment of Cool Stuff my Phone Does because, really, there's a limit on how cool a phone can be, and I think I've reached it.

So the last thing I love about my smarty-pants phone is the google maps/GPS feature. I can plug my phone into the car's speaker system (listening to Pandora) and the Navigation system will announce the directions as I drive. It's easy. It's clear. And so far, it's been very accurate.

Sometimes I will have Pandora playing, Google maps navigating and then the phone will ring so I'll talk through the speakers too. I feel like I'm in a space pod with HAL in control.

And once I get to my destination, I can use the google walking maps to get to wherever I want to go.

Finally, there are also the google bike maps which are awesome. They include street shots of all the intersections because, on bike, they are often not marked and can be tricky.

Because I'm a person who does not have a naturally good sense of direction, this type of technology makes a huge difference in helping me to feel free to explore without fear of getting lost.

A "going out"

2010-06-09T12:10:00.002-04:00

One of the things that older elementary kids at Big Girl Monster's school can do is to plan a "going out". After working on a particular area of interest for a while, they can plan a visit to a place where they can find out more information about the topic. They research the location, make arrangements for a ride and formulate some questions that they'd like to answer on their visit.

I was lucky enough to be the "ride" for Big Girl Monster's first "going out". She and her classmate have been studying pre-historic time lines, so they decided to go to the Museum of Natural History. They had four questions about trilobites, the Permian extinction and the Cambrian era.

They were VERY excited and it was such a pleasure to see how thrilled they were to discover the information they had come for. "Trilobites! Over here!!!"

This kindof engaged, educational experience is priceless.

Nightly Prayers

2010-06-06T22:00:00.002-04:00

We say a prayer every night at bedtime. It's the same one I said as a kid:

Now a lay me
down to sleep
I pray thee, Lord,
my soul to keep.

May angles watch me
through the night
until I wake
with morning light.

The version I used to say skipped the angels part in favor of "If I should die before I wake, I pray thee, Lord, my soul to take." But I decided that was too morbid for bedtime-- better to save those musings on mortality for the light of day.

After the prayer, there is a little ritual, again adopted from my own childhood, that begins, "God bless...[name], [name], [name]..." And when you get to the end of all the people you want to bless that day, concludes, "And all the little children in the world. Amen."

I like the idea of saying prayers, not because I believe that God (or gods or Goddess) is listening to them, but just because I think it's a good practice. I also like the ritual of it. And in the part where we say the "God bless..." we try to list all the people who have been important in our days or those who have been on our minds. I like this form of appreciating the people who are in our lives.

The really funny thing is how much the kids, especially Big Girl Monster, hate the final bit. "and all the little children in the world."

"Why," she wonders, "do we bless the children but not the adults?" It's a good question.

"Why don't we bless everyone?"

"Maybe," I venture, "children need more blessings?"

"That's ridiculous," she replies. "Adults need them just as much! I hate that part."

Every night, we say it the same old way. That's just how it's said. And every night she protests.

Honestly, I don't know where that part comes from. I don't know why we bless on the the little children. But I do know that she's right. Adults need those blessings just as much as the little children do.

She plays in the sand

2010-06-03T22:24:00.002-04:00

Backlit by the intense light of dusk, her hair glows fiercely golden. It falls every which way across her head, flying out around her face. She doesn't care.

Legs splayed out on the sand, covered in sand, she works on the moat while the other diligent architects fashion the ramparts, the battlements, the barbican and the castle walls.

There is a two year old to fetch the water, and she lets him fill the moat half way to test the integrity of her work.

As she works, the waterway extends into the plain beyond the castle walls where the peasant village lays. The two year old pours. The water flows.

"Mommy! Come look at my castle!" she calls. "I made the moat! Watch me pour water in it."

She doesn't care about clothes or boys or money or toys. She wears whatever she wants. She hates to brush her hair. She is a mess.

She is beautiful. Cradled in the palm of childhood.

comfort in the time of grief

2010-05-29T09:45:00.003-04:00

My mom still laughs at me because when I was a latchkey kid, I used to open the door for the Jehovah's Witnesses, let them talk my ear off and then scrounge for money to buy their Watchtower magazines. I'm such a sucker. For one thing, I didnt't want to hurt their feelings, and I was kindof interested in what they had to say. Not in a "I'm considering this as a potential belief system" kindof way, but rather in a "this is totally different from my world view and I will never ever agree with what you are saying" kindof way.

Indeed, the neighborhood JW's are still on to me, and one in particular stops by a couple time a month to read the bible to me. Once a sucker.... always a sucker.

Sending Big Girl Monster to a "Christian" school was a big deal for me. It was something I thought I would never ever do. Mainly, I don't want anyone telling my kid what to believe or else go to hell. But as it turns out, I LOVE her Christian school and I love the way they approach religious exploration. Given that it is based in Christian doctrine, it is very Unitarian in its approach. (Actually they use the Catechesis of the Good Shepherd a religious curriculum using Montessori methods). This involves presenting materials and stories related to Christian teachings (eg the parable of the good shepherd or the parable of the mustard seed) and then asking the children what that means to them.

I find the approach very gentle and Big Girl Monster finds great joy and peace in the time she spends in the Atrium. And while she is certainly learning a lot about Christianity, her identity as a Unitarian is very strong. Both kids feel very connected to our (Unitarian) church and have very close bonds with our church community.

So BGM brought home a project she had been working on in the Atrium. She had illustrated a book called "A History of the Kingdom of God" which was more overtly "bible-y" than most of the works they do. But she was clearly proud of it and wanted me to admire it... so I did, of course.

And then, in her best Jehovah's Witnesses voice, she said, "I know you've been sad about your friend Amy, so I've selected a passage that I'd like to read for you. I think you will find it comforting." And then she opened her booklet to a page that told about how God had made life stronger than death.

While her religiosity was somewhat alarming, her thoughtfulness was deeply touching.

Indeed, the messenger is the message.

Mullberry cobbler

2010-05-26T08:32:00.000-04:00

The mullberries come every year at this time. The birds twitter drunkenly in the branches and the berries fall on the road and on the ground in dark circles underneath the trees. The kids come home with stained hands and feet full of berries.

Adults do not have time for the mullberries. They seem happy to leave them to birds and children. I wonder why it costs $3.99 for a pint of raspberries at the grocery while the mullberries fall and rot.

Every year I have earnest intentions of picking the berries to make pie or even mullberry wine, but every year the berries come and go, the stains fade from the children's' hands and there is no pie and no wine.

This year we made it to cobbler!! We took it to a picnic where it received rave reviews. Tomorrow we're taking a sheet out to lay under the tree. When we shake the branches, the berries will fall onto the sheet. Then we'll make more cobbler.

Cool stuff on my phone: Part 2

2010-05-25T20:22:00.002-04:00

The best thing about my phone is that it has my google calendar right on the phone desktop. I could not live without this feature.

I have a calendar for everything. Me, family activities, each child, meal planning, bills, school stuff. Each one shows up as a different color and I can add or change events on my phone or on the computer and they just synch up to each other.

Honestly, I could not have made it through the last few semesters without the organizational help of the calendars.

Calmer

2010-05-21T15:59:00.002-04:00

Baby Monster has calmed down. I'm so glad because he is like an angry, clingy, little hurricane sometimes.

I'm not sure what did it. I read somewhere, once, that kids go through periods of being "settled" into whatever age or stage they are in and then periods of being unsettled as they move into a new stage. This seems to be true and it is very reassuring to remind myself this as they go through their periods of unsettlement. It's easier to deal with when I know it's not permanent.

Since last fall, Baby Monster has seemed very well adjusted to school but I wanted to meet with his teacher just to touch base about his progress. I thought that would be easy! Haha. It took me a month of notes, calls and frustration to finally corner the teacher in the hall to get an appointment. When I stopped him in the hall, he said, "Oh, Baby Monster said there was no problem, so I thought we didn't need to meet." Let me remind you that Baby Monster is 5.

Finally, we met, and indeed, there does not seem to be a problem. Some of the other parents of kids in the class are a bit concerned because it seems that there is a lot of chaos in that class compared to the two other kindergartens. I stayed to observe after my meeting with the teacher and, in fact, there is a LOT of chaos.

Baby Monster, however, seemed not to notice. He stayed right on task, did his work, was quiet, did not get distracted by the kids who came to talk to him. Although from my observation, I have no idea HOW he is learning, he clearly is. He speaks French, is starting to read, can do the math easily, has friends and is happy. I can't really complain. So while other parents are pulling their kids out of the class, BM will remain.

I'm sure much of his ability to deal with it and my ability to tolerate it has to do with his Montessori background. Yay Montessori!

Anyway, for now, I look forward to moving into the summer with a calmer, more settled Baby Monster. It will be easier to help him be big if he's not being angry and contrary all the time.

Last

2010-05-19T23:51:00.002-04:00

Yesterday was my last day of class. I mean really. The LAST one. Ever.

Well. I may take another class, but I'll never have to. At 3:30 yesterday afternoon, with the end of Dr. Klassen's Mixed Methods Seminar, I had completed the last of the classes required for my PhD. (the 20 and 10 page papers that I owe within the next few days to online profs not withstanding).

Wow. Did it really go by that quickly?

It wore me out and stressed me out and gave me little time for anything else, but I loved being a student- a class taking student. I love learning new things. I love discussing. I love wrestling with ideas.

8 terms of coursework. 134 graduate credits. 2 years. of. my. life.

And it was over just like that.

But it does cool stuff too: part 1

2010-05-13T08:10:00.004-04:00

So in addition to causing me radiation sickness (jury's still out), my phone also does some really cool stuff.

I know that everyone (EVERYONE) already knows about Pandora, but I never got into it. For one thing, I have a lap top, so I don't have computer speakers plugged in very often. Also, when I'm on my computer, I HATE having music on because it's distracting. I can't think even when the music is really really quiet.

I have my ipod/stereo set up - which is awesome- and I also have the ipod set up in the car. But now! Now I have Pandora too.

I figured out how to hook my phone up to the ipod dock at home and in the car and then play Pandora through the phone. This was not as easy as it sounds because my stupid phone, in addition to releasing way too much radiation, also does not have a standard jack hole. It only has a USB type plug, so I had to get an adapter.

But now we can play the kid's rock station or the Flaming Lips station or the Taylor Swift station or the Avett Brothers station or the Exotica/Lounge station whenever and where ever! (well, as long as the phone battery is charged because the charger and the av-out are the same plug -- I know: terrible design!)

So while I still don't want my phone anywhere near my body, I am very grateful when it is across the room or in the passenger seat thrilling us with tunes!

microwaving my face

2010-05-08T10:28:00.002-04:00

So either, I get a huge high 5 for figuring this out or you can lump me with the wackos who wear tinfoil hats to ward against government mind-control devices.

My TMJ joint pain started acting up in December and has gotten worse and worse. Also for the last few months, I've had progressively worse pain in my left ear and tonsil. At first I thought it was allergies, but whatever allergy or cold was initially causing the congestion has long since cleared up and I still wake every day with awful pain. It was actually enough to get me back to the doctor- a place I can usually easily avoid for years at a time. The doc checked my ear and throat, gave them the all clear, wrote a script for antibiotics and a referral to an ENT specialist. I hate doctors. I really do. They're useless.

Somehow, it dawned on me that I'd gotten my new cell phone in November... right before my symptoms began. I looked it up and in fact, my particular phone emits 2.5 SARs of radiation (whatever their unit of measure) which is the maximum allowable amount. Most phones are well under that. Also, I spend a lot of my commuting days talking to and sitting on hold with my mortgage company or various other bureaucratic entities that keep me and my ear hostage to their awful muzak punctuated by the less-than-reassuring periodic message, "We are experiencing higher than usual call volumes. Please stay on the line and a customer service representative will be with you shortly."

Ugh. Don't get me started.

Anyway. I'm now convinced that my symptoms are being caused by my cell phone. I went right out and bought a blue tooth headset. I haven't held the phone to my face in 3 days. I THINK my symptoms are lessening, but I can't really tell yet. It might just be wishful thinking.

Honestly, looking at all the other online claims of the dangers of cellphone radiation, it seems entirely possible that it's been causing a bunch of other stuff too. I've been saying all semester, "I'm having such a hard time getting into my school work this semester..." Seriously. I think it's made my thinking foggy and unfocused.

I sound like a total wingnut even to myself. But I'm going to see what happens as I continue to not use the handset against my head. We'll see.

And if the next time you see me I'm wearing a tinfoil hat, you'll know why.

Grieving

2010-05-07T10:37:00.003-04:00

I've always been amazed at how much beauty there is in sadness and how much laughter there is in grief.

In grieving my friend Amy, I feel so blessed to be part of a strong and vibrant community that is pouring forth love and support to each other and to Amy's family. Not only that, but also witnessing the other communities that Amy and her family were a part of and that have also mobilized in support, has been such a powerful reminder of how important connections are.

It's our connections to other people that give life meaning and keep us moving through it in good times and in bad. I know plenty of people who are not "joiners";they prefer not to get involved; they prefer to forge their own connections outside of the formalized bounds of "church" or associations. It seems to work for them, but for me again and again, I am reminded of how essential community (both formal and informal) is to the way I want to live.

It has been interesting to see how differently the kids are dealing with Amy's death than I am. Initially, they were shocked and sad (we found out Thursday afternoon having just spent Wednesday evening with her). Then they went through iterations of asking practical questions like, "Will we still perform our dance on Friday?" and "How are you SURE she's really dead?"

Then they moved to empathy for Amy's sons, pondering how sad they must be. And that moved them to a period of deeper introspection where they pondered their own lives, fears and sadnesses. "Will you die, Mom?" "Why did you and Dad have to split up?" "What if Maddie dies?"

Mostly, Big Girl Monster is quite uncomfortable with displays of big emotion both in herself and in others (someone noted, "She doesn't get that from either of her parents!). She did cry deeply and soulfully both for Amy as well as for Amy's family and then for herself and her own family. And then she was done. She says, "I'm sad, but I don't want to talk about it." And when she saw me crying a few days later she said, "Are you crying AGAIN?"

It's all so abstract to them that I think it's hard for them to conceptualize in the immediately tragic way that adults do. But I also think it has been good for the kids to see a healthy model of adult grieving. They see me crying and reaching out. They've seen the community come together to grieve together. They've seen people seeking resources that they need to cope.

But this is a long-term process. Grief tries our patience. It sticks around long past its welcome. I know that this little marble of sadness will roll around my heart for a long, long time. And that eventually it will find its way into the jar of other marbles that I add to year by year.