This might be jumbled. Be warned.

Brian and Heather’s wedding was super fun, beautiful, and a pleasure to attend and participate in. I’m so happy they asked me and Ian to officiate. Congratulations you two lovebirds! I enjoyed meeting some new people and getting to hang out with a few Seattleites more than ever before. Ian and I received lots of compliments on the ceremony, for which Ian and Heather and Brian get the credit. I didn’t write any of it. It came off just about perfectly, I think, with delightful weather to boot.

Work is kinda stressy. I’m trying to get set up with a new client, which is actually a network of editors. The network does all the marketing and theoretically, I get the work. I will pay a commission. If it turns out to work well for me, then great. If not, I’ll dump them. An editor friend says it can be lucrative to be in the network, and I hate marketing, so I’m giving it a whirl. Anyway, there’s lots of paperwork to complete before I’m a functioning member of the network, though. And I procrastinate like hell when it comes to paperwork. Ugh. I’m trying to gather a handful of testimonials, too.

At the magazine, shipout was kinda slow earlier this month. Instead of coming in to find stacks of stories for me to proof ASAP, I arrived each day to find nothing ready for me. Essentially, there was fun chatting time, fun writing time, and boring waiting-around-trying-to-look-busy time. One day, I arrive to find every single person in editorial at a meeting for 45 minutes. The place was completely empty and I had nothing to do. Let’s just say, I’m glad I bill hourly. It’s their problem if they’re not ready for me.

This past weekend was the Sac Waldorf School Harvest Faire. All families were required to donate, buy, and participate in a variety of FUNdraising activities. I think I get a C for my efforts. Lucas and I managed to collect 30 sticks for the fairy wands, we donated 10 spools of ribbon, I attended the work party and made little dried-flower bouquets to go on the end of the wands, we donated seashells to the Children’s Store (where only kids can buy things, grown-ups not allowed in), and we went to the Faire and spent plenty of money. However, I didn’t donate 10(!) items to be sold at the Country Store (they were supposed to be hand-made, homemade, hippy-Waldorfy things like jam, bath salts, soaps, hats, scarves, socks, etc. I just don’t really make stuff like that). I didn’t manage to make a baked good for the Café Waldorf, either, nor did I work a booth
🙁 Maybe I’ll do better next year.

Anyway, the Faire was cool. Lucas enjoyed the fishing booth especially (pay a $1 ticket for the privilege of fishing for a junky toy). He bought all kinds of goodies at the Children’s Store including a placemat, a bag of plastic bugs, a beanbag, a woooden box with a bath salt cube inside, etc. I eyed the Waldorfy toys/books the vendors were selling, but didn’t purchase anything. My parents came for a little while, and so did Ian’s mom and sister. We invited them so they can hopefully come to appreciate the school and what it offers, instead of just being mystified about why we’ve chosen such a weird private school.

Oh! And I got to see a beautiful marrionette show of the Michaelmas story Lucas heard so much over the last few weeks—George and the Dragon. It was awesome! I got to watch Lucas be captivated and enraptured by the story. It fed my not-so-secret desire to be IN Lucas’s Red Rose kindergarten, rather than merely a parent of a child in kindergarten.

Ian’s been gone on business about 30 hours now. Managing Lucas all on my own at busy times of the day (morning before school, evening, and bedtime) has been major fun—I mean headache. Thank the gods for school and babysitters! Honestly, I don’t know how single parents do it by themselves day in and day out! I would totally join a commune….

We had a lovely, if brief, dinner out last night with Grl_Fury and Kimkimkaree. Thanks for meeting us ladies. It was nice being out with you, even if we couldn’t stay out late.

Somehow today I have to edit a handful of chapters on boxing, bake a contribution of some kind for the Harvest Faire tomorrow, and clean up around here. Ian will be home at around 5:30 I think. Hopefully he’ll get some studying done on the train.

I’m currently daydreaming about joining the Sacramento Waldorf School Community Choir. I need a creative, artistic outlet something fierce, but damn! It’s so hard to justify. Our home life is already so busy, Lucas already spends loads of time in the care of someone else, and Ian’s completely maxed out (more on that another time).

Anyway, I have all these dreams about doing creative stuff and learning new things but I can never seem to work them into my life or budget. A few weeks ago, my friend Julie Dollison sent out a message saying she’s directing ARCs jazz choir and needed people to enroll to ensure that the class would proceed as scheduled. It was open to anyone; you didn’t have to be a full-time student to enroll. Way back when I was in high school, the ARC jazz choir was awesome (and presumably still is). I used to attend their concerts all the time. For a couple of days, I seriously considered enrolling and joining the choir (if they’d have me), but in the end did nothing. I fantasized about me and Tate and Matimus all signing up together; I figured it would be so much fun—just like old times—but alas, Matimus can’t exactly attend rehearsals from NC and Tate doesn’t have a moment to spare. (Fortunately, I learned the other day that the ARC jazz choir did get sufficient enrollment and that it’s going well for Julie.)

I’ve also pored over the art class offerings every semester for about two years now. I’d love to take something like painting or ceramics to feed my soul and teach me something new—you know, exercise my brain in a new way. Still, I haven’t found the time to do that either. Maybe it’s because my work schedule is so changeable, with urgent projects cropping up pretty frequently. Perhaps it’s the ever-present feeling that I already take too much time away from Lucas for work. Perhaps it’s just a fear of trying something new or not being “good enough” at whatever it is. (We Type-A’s are pretty hard on ourselves.)

Some friends invited us to do a ballroom dance class with them through parks and rec. We can’t fit it in. Can’t get a weekly babysitter. Ian doesn’t have time.

A good friend teaches Nia dancing two nights a week. If I went to her evening class, not only would I learn some dance, I would also get to see her regularly and get some exercise. But I don’t go to that either.

If I were to join the SWS choir, I think I’d have a rehearsal one night a week, plus any performances. I love the idea of singing regularly again; it’s been … well, 16 years. My only taste of choir in that intervening time since high school was participating in the Balkan women’s choir that Chilipantz formed and directed for a Lenaia performance one year. That was so much fun! I like the notion that Lucas might someday see me participating in and pursuing art, since the arts are a major portion of the Waldorf curriculum that he’ll experience throughout the next 10 or more years. After all, we’re paying big bucks for arts education to be part of his life, inseparable from academics.

So yeah, maybe I’ll call about the choir. But the reality of what’s happening next February is dimming the likelihood that I’ll get to do anything like this in the next … 3 years. And that makes me kinda sad.

In the interest of saying something positive today, even though I’m feeling kind of low, here’s a list of positive things about being pregnant:

* eating carbs (dairy, veg, whole grains, burritos)
* taking naps
* foregoing wearing high heels with good cause
* healthy hair
* beautiful long nails (which will have to be cut and kept short as soon as baby arrives)
* full-fat, cream-on-the-top vanilla yogurt
* pregnancy blend tea
* increased sex drive
* sex
* smiles and good wishes from almost everybody
* baby kicks
* being told I’m beautiful even though I’m rounder and heavier than normal
* unagi, cooked shrimp, and the Chris Webber roll at Samurai (because without them, I’d die)
* a husband who is grateful and wants this baby
* daydreaming
* the name game
* watching Lucas talk to my belly

Over the last two weeks, the children in Lucas’s school have been preparing for and celebrating Michaelmas. They’ve heard, watched, and acted out the story of George the farm boy and the dragon. The archangel Michael helps George to overcome the beast who has been ruining the crops.

Lucas has jealously watched while the older children sand, stain, and assemble their own wooden swords. (He will get to make his own next year in Kindergarten.) Mrs. Klocek says he has worked diligently on the classroom swords (3 will stay in the classroom for everyone to play with); he has been fascinated with the project, the object itself, and the work.

I’ve also observed that the story of George, Michael, and the dragon is living in him. He’s been chosen to manipulate the dragon during puppet shows. When I asked what the dragon puppet looked like, he explained that it was a red silk and a green silk knotted together. He has played a cat during their play of the story. His teacher says he’s really into it, attentive, and plays Michael at dress-up time.

I asked Lucas who Michael is. He replied, “An Arch-angel,” with that mom-you’re-so-dumb-you-don’t-know-anything tone of voice. As if that answer settled it. I thought to myself, “Well, sorry, son. I didn’t have a fancy private-school education with mythology, puppets, plays, dragons, and archangels, now did I?”

Last Friday his class celebrated Michaelmas. He brought home a silk cape that they died yellow with marigold petals and a golden crown (like Michael wears). The older children took home their swords. Lucas doesn’t seem too disappointed about not having a sword of his own, which is good because I was a little worried about it (worried both about him having one and not having one).

The significance of this holiday in the Waldorf schools, from what I gather, is that the story of a simple boy who acts out of bravery and righteousness on behalf of others can overcome fear and darkness. That light must be honored and respected, and can be the greatest weapon we possess in the face of frightening challenges. The emphasis in the schools is not placed on killing the dragon (which some fundie Christians take to be a metaphor for pagan/Goddess religion rather than how I see it: a metaphor for fear, hate, bigotry, and isolationism). Rather, in the schools, the children (especially the older children) are taught that we all have within us a dark side, and that we must acknowledge it, learn to control it, and not act out of our destructive emotions. Our dark sides can be a source of strength, inspiration, power, and mystery, but they must be balanced and harnessed by the light for us to live healthy, happy lives and do good in the world.

The youngest children don’t get all that analysis; they just get the story, which lives in them and informs their hearts. It gives them hope as the seasons change and darkness becomes more pervasive and present in their worlds.

EDIT: According to the Sacramento Waldorf School Administrator, Liz Beaven, Michaelmas is this:
“The end of September not only brings glorious autumn weather, it is also a time in the year when day and night stand in balance before we rapidly slide into the long nights of winter. In Waldorf schools throughout the world, at this time of year, communities gather to celebrate the festival of Michaelmas. So it was that we came together last Friday (on the precise day of Michaelmas, September 29th) to face and vanquish a magnificent dragon. Why is this little-known festival celebrated with such enthusiasm and care?

It falls to one student, carefully chosen to represent his or her class and the qualities of courage and faith, to stand before the mighty beast, and bid it, in the name of all that is good and true, to submit and lend its power to the forces of good. (Tempting though it is to simply slay the dragon, we do not represent this, for those forces of darkness, of envy, fear, or hatred, are always there to challenge us!)”

Michaelmas, or the Feast of Saints Michael, Gabriel and Raphael is a day in the Christian calendar, taking place on 29 September. Because it falls near the equinox, it is associated with the beginning of Autumn and the shortening of days. St. Michael, one of the principal angelic warriors, was seen as a protector against the dark of night. Michaelmas has also delineated time and seasons for secular purposes as well, particularly in the United Kingdom and Ireland.
***
Michaelmas, September 29: St. Michael is known as the conqueror of the dragon, the heavenly hero with his starry sword (cosmic iron) who gives strength to people.
***
Michaelmas, Christian feast of St. Michael the Archangel, celebrated in the Western churches on September 29 and in the Eastern (Orthodox) Church on November 8. In the Roman Catholic Church, it is the Feast of SS. Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael, archangels; in the Anglican Church, its proper name is the Feast of St. Michael and All Angels.

The cult of St. Michael began in the Eastern Church in the 4th century and spread to Western Christianity by the 5th century; the date of May 8 commemorates the dedication of a sanctuary to St. Michael at Monte Gargano in Italy in the 6th century. Because of St. Michael’s traditional position as leader of the heavenly armies, veneration of all angels was eventually incorporated into his cult.

During the Middle Ages, Michaelmas was a great religious feast and many popular traditions grew up around the day, which coincided with the harvest in much of western Europe. In England it was the custom to eat a goose on Michaelmas, which was supposed to protect against financial need for the next year. In Ireland, finding a ring hidden in a Michaelmas pie meant that one would soon be married.
–Encyclopædia Britannica

I sewed. Yes, you heard it correctly. I sewed. A project. A big one for me. By hand, with a needle and thread. Me.

Lucas’s kindergarten has what they call Little Ones: small (6″ tall) dolls in the traditional Waldorf style (plain, soft, no facial features). Each child in the class has a doll of his or her own. The dolls come to the classroom from Fairy Land after they finish helping Mother Nature with the harvest.

In August, before school began, I was presented with a bare doll body with curly, golden brown hair that matches Lucas’s own hair color. My assignment: sew doll clothes for and onto the doll so that they cannot be removed and name the doll. All of this was to be accomplished in absolute secrecy—Lucas was not to find out about the Little One, or see it being worked on. The doll will be Lucas’s playmate and charge throughout the school year (and next).

It took me quite a while and required lots of help from Ian to figure out the pants and shirt pattern I was provided. (Construction of garments is a huge mystery to me.) I worked on the clothes several evenings after Lucas was in bed. The shirt is maroon with little sprout-type shapes. It ended up with a sort of mandarin-looking collar when I sewed it onto the doll’s body. I decided to go with that. The blue pants were really baggy with wide cuffs. I sort of liked the way they looked together. The combo looks vaguely like a samurai’s clothes might look, so I sewed a wide obi around his middle. Rather than gather the pant cuffs and sew them to the doll’s ankle like I was instructed to do, I sewed the inseam to the doll’s inner thigh, all the way down to the ankle. I don’t think the pants are ever coming off the doll, which was the point. The teachers may feel differently and decide the cuffs have to be gathered and stitched to the ankles.

I named this little doll Sparrow. (It was supposed to be a nature-oriented name.) The teachers may change it if they don’t approve: they have the ultimate veto power of Mother Nature.

Anyway, all of this sewing was secretive because the Little Ones will start joining the children in their classroom after today, when the Fairy Land harvest is all in. I think I managed to keep the whole production hidden from Lucas.

Ian was very supportive of my pathetic sewing skills, although he did tease me a little by saying the shirt was too long and dresslike. I’m pretty certain that tunics are all the rage this season in Fairy Land.

Anyway, don’t mention to Lucas that his mom is responsible for Sparrow’s clothes!

To Tina, who has been a beautiful, constant source of patience, quite strength, forgiveness, humor, and safety in my life for 17 years:

Happy Birthday! I hope you get everything you wish for this year!

And thanks for taking care of my kid!

My darling husband turned 35 yesterday. I am pleased to report that I love him madly, want to spend every day with him forever, and pray that we have long, abundantly blessed lives together. Furthermore, I don’t think he’s the least bit old.

A week ago we took Ian to buy a new bicycle. (He’s been riding bikes that don’t fit his body frame for years now.) We got a new Schwinn and he has enjoyed riding it to and from work a few times already. It’s not super fancy, but it’s serviceable, and new, and all his. I hope to hit the American River bike trail again soon!

Yesterday was an extremely mellow and rather uneventful birthday for him. He got to take the day off work, at least. But he mostly studied and hung out at home. I worked a lot yesterday. After this weekend of fun and frivolity and long car rides, we were in “return to normal” mode, with school and work and a regular-ish bedtime as priorities.

However, in an unprecedented show of bravery and adventure, Ian’s mom took us and his sister, Kellie, out for a sushi dinner at Samurai. It was a lovely meal and good company. (I’m now a big fan of the C. Webber roll: snow crab roll with cooked scallop on top and a peanutty sauce, tobiko and green onions. Nice to find new, cooked sushi delights since I crave it so badly.) Mom and Sis both had terriyaki chicken and tempura—mustn’t be too crazy. 😉

Unfortunately, Ian’s step-father is still very ill and wasn’t able to join us. His back pain and breathing problems are far from under control. Morphine is suppressing his respiratory system so badly that he’s falling down, unable to breathe. First they thought it was heart trouble, then they thought it was GERD, then they thought it was asthma and extreme allergies, but it seems now that it’s none of those things. Depression has also set in because he has been so limited for so long–like 2-3 years. Some retirement, eh? Now they’re talking about getting him off morphine ASAP, but that requires a new doctor. Apparently the doc that GIVES you the shit isn’t ALLOWED to get you off it. They won’t consider doing any kind of back surgery until David’s breathing is stabilized. He’s hitting the cans of heliox several times a day and went to the ER once last month. Just walking around his house reduces his respiration to less than 80% of what it should be. Ian’s mom and sister are basically at a loss as to how to help him or even how to cheer him up. Antidepressants are not the solution: They tried a number of those several years ago and they just made him feel suicidal. David is housebound, depressed, and acting weird.

This morning I was able to attend a Parent Tea at Lucas’s kindergarten. They hold these teas about once a month and the point of them is twofold, I think: 1) it gives the children an opportunity to invite their parents into the classroom and see what they play/work with, who they play/work with, and what they are experiencing, and 2) it gives the parents the opportunity to peek behind the wizard’s curtain and reaffirm that they’re happy to be paying so much dough for private school.

So, from 8:20 a.m. to 8:45 a.m. I was in Lucas’s classroom, along with a crowd of other kids and parents. It was far too noisy with all those people for my taste, but so far I do like the kids and most of the other parents. Anyway, Lucas introduced me to Teeny Tiny the Turtle, played with stacking gnomes with me, and led me to the red carpet for circle time. Circle time is the best! It melts my heart and makes me feel full of hope again. I don’t know the songs yet, but the children do. The two teachers lead the singing and hand motions to go with the songs. They invoked the light fairies to come and the angels to protect them. Then, the teachers politely asked the big people to leave.

Here’s a poem Lucas taught us today:

I dance with the flowers.
I sing with the sun.
My warmth I give to everyone.

We’re having another boy. An unmistakeable, crystal-clear crotch shot during the ultrasound confirmed it.

So, Lucas suggested William or Liam for the baby’s name.

William Wilson doesn’t work for me (even though William my father’s name).
I love the name Liam, but we can’t have an Ian and a Liam in the same family. Imagine the confusion because the names sound so similar. Still, it’s interesting to me that Lucas would immediately choose a name that I’ve always loved.

It’s very important to me to choose a name that’s fairly unusual and unique. I’m sick of meeting guys with the same 10-15 names (john, steve, robert, jeff, joel, michael, david, mark, matthew, james, alex, andrew, jason, max, tom, etc.) No offense intended if your name is one of those.

Top name contenders right now are Tremendifer, Ebinezer, Peasblossom, and Godzilla.

OK, real top contenders are Rowan, Asher, Donovan, Andreas, Tristan, Sebastian, Sylvan, Alder, Arden, Dante, Cedar, Channing, Gabriel, Logan, Winter, Jordan, Channing, and more. I’m attracted to names of trees for this baby, for some unknown reason.

Rowan = Tree with Red Berries, Mountain Ash (Sacred & magical, associated with Imbolc, which is when baby is due)
Asher = blessed, happy
Donovan = brown black (not a very cool meaning)
Andreas = manly
Tristan = bold, tumult, Tristan and Isolde (doomed love–not so good)
Sebastian = venerable
Sylvan = one who frequents groves or woods
Alder = alder tree, birch
Arden = from the eagle valley
Dante = everlasting
Cedar = cedar tree
Gabriel = God is my strength (not too keen on God names)
Logan = small cove
Winter = the season
Channing = knowing; from the place of Cana’s people (I don’t know who Cana is)
Sage = from the herb; prophet
Adonis = man loved by Aphrodite, manly beauty