I frequently find myself wishing that I had more time for myself away from Lucas. I want more time for me and Ian to be together. More time for romance and more time for quiet and more time without anybody demanding that I serve his every need and whim. Sometimes I get so frustrated I just want to flee into the night.

Motherhood is constant. It’s ever-present and unshakable. I don’t remember what my life was like before it, except for some vague feeling that I used to do what I pleased. In order to escape it for even a little while, I have to rely on others to do the caretaking, and then get naughty, or altered, or both to push the mothermind aside and see what’s underneath it. Sara, are you in there? And if I succeed in uncovering myself, even then, at first light, while my head is pounding and I rub the sleep out of my eyes, my first thought is, “Where’s my baby? Is he OK? When can I see him again?”

When Lucas and I are reunited, it’s like two magnets rushing to join. Ecstasy lights his face.

Push and pull, ebb and flow. The ocean in which I swim is deep.

Since college, I haven’t really paid much attention to gender issues. My women’s studies classes were 12 years ago. My mind and heart are open to people being who they want to be.

Now that I have a preschooler teaching me instead of college profs, gender is back on the table for analysis. Few concepts are as important to preschoolers as gender. For kids in this age-group, it’s very important to know the differences between mommies and daddies, girls and boys. Usually, girls automatically gravitate toward girly toys and games (dolls, tea parties) while boys usually gravitate toward trains/cars, construction, mud/sand/rocks, and bashing things. Girls often play mostly with girls, and boys, with boys. This is usually considered to be because of some combination of nature and nurture.

Lately, Lucas would much prefer it if you call him a girl. He’ll tell you, flat out, he’s a girl. If you accidentally call him a boy, as in “You are being a very polite boy,” or “Come to dinner, little man,” he argues with you. Loudly. He’s frustrated by even the slightest suggestion that he’s a boy. This is somewhat startling when you first hear it. The grandparents are confused. Some of them are bothered and attempt to argue with him about it. This only makes Lucas more stubborn and determined to be a girl. I’ve even heard one grandparent say, “It’s OK to pretend, but you’re really a boy.” (This is curious to me. If he pretends too hard, will he actually become a girl? For reals?)

Ian and I are OK with Lucas’s gender bending exploration. We realize that it’s a phase that he’s in, and that it may have a lot to do with the fact that most of his best pals are girls. When Lucas plays pretend lately, he is often pretending to be a princess, a mermaid, a 5 1/2-year-old girl, a teenage girl, sometimes even a ballerina. We have casually mentioned that there are boy princes, boy mer…boys, and powerful boy ballet dancers. These proffered male substitutes do not matter, do not entice or appeal; they just aren’t who he is.

The pretending is going on all in his head—which is a dumb-sounding thing to say, I realize. What I mean is that he’s shown virtually no interest in dressing up (with the one exception of the plastic tiara I just bought for myself—this I had to fight him for), makeup, or playing girly games like I mentioned above. It’s like he doesn’t yet notice the trappings of gender. He knows mommy wears makeup and jewelry. (So does daddy, sometimes.)

And I must admit, I’m enjoying the fact that he doesn’t notice that the other kids in his dance class on Saturday mornings are all girls, or that they all wear pink tutus and pink ballet slippers. I signed him up for dance so he can explore and enjoy movement, develop his body, coordination, balance, and other gross motor skills. He hasn’t been told (yet) that “dance class is for girls!” (Can you hear the taunting schoolyard tone when you read that?)

So, my little girl Lucas goes to dance class one hour a week, pretends to be a mermaid, prefers the company and assistance of mommy to daddy, and spends every moment she can playing with trains, dirt, sticks, and mud.

The only thing that bothered me a little was when Lucas sat on the toilet and lamented, “I don’t want to have a penis.” I console myself with the knowledge that he doesn’t yet know what it’s for; I’m pretty sure he’ll change his mind someday.

It’s over now. The happy jack-o-lanterns we made are commencing to rot. The candy that we never did manage to leave out in a bowl on our front step is still in the cupboard. The costume lies in a heap by the door. But, oh, was it grand!

This year’s Halloween was pretty mellow: no grown-up parties to attend, no costumes for me and Ian to don. Although Lucas flirted with the ideas of being an elephant or a farmer, it was good ol’ Thomas the Tank Engine who won out. Again. He was Thomas last year. So, we didn’t even have to make a new costume for Lucas. We simply stuffed him into 3T overalls instead of last year’s 2T overalls, threw the train costume over his head, and marched out the door. We even attended the same “festivities” as last year.

I hardly paid any attention as the days crept toward the holiday. Although we did manage to make two very fun trips to two pumpkin farms with friends (thanks, T and E and K!) in October. Very few preparations were necessary. Even so, I woke up the morning of Halloween with a wacky and sudden urge to decorate, throw a party, buy presents, and wear a costume… We didn’t have our pumpkins carved. I quit working an hour early to cut off their tops and scoop out their guts, so that Lucas and I could carve them in the single hour of free time between getting home from preschool and leaving for the night’s adventures.

The Pumpkin Path at Sacramento Waldorf School is still going strong. It is a wonderful alternative to trick-or-treating. The children and the parents follow an angel guide along a pathway lit by luminaires and jack-o-lanterns. It’s non-spooky, which is very appropriate for my little one, beautiful and leaves a lasting impression. The path leads to a number of living dioramas or scenes with live actors (high school kids and parents). They enact a portion of a story, say some verse, and sing. At each station, the children receive a gift—a trinket or treasure or toy to keep.

This year, we invited Kelly and Ambrosia to join us. Lucas was a little intimidated at first by the actors. It’s a lot to meet imposing King Arthur, Sir Lancelot, and Guinevere right at the start. The king asked the children for their pledge to be courageous and honorable. Lucas was a little withdrawn and nervous for the first half of the walk, but gradually relaxed into it. Ambrosia (dressed as a bumble bee) loved it, and wasn’t the least bit shy. She kept saying, “Where’s MY Angel Guide?”

Along the way, we met King Arthur and cronies, Johnny Appleseed, Robin Hood and hoodlums, a farmer with living scarecrows, a Lakota woman who told a story, cowboys and cowgirls, a Mexican household of women, Alice and the mad, mad tea party, a circus, a leprechaun, some bakers, and more. We came home with the following treasures and treats: a golden egg, a gold chocolate coin, a wooden spinning top, and eagle feather, a necklace with a sun pendant, liberated and redistributed jewels from Robin Hood, popcorn, a scone, gingerbread, a bandana, a tiny doll, and other items. It took about an hour to walk the whole way.

We met the two smallest Bs and Parnasus there afterward. The kiddos were tired when we were done, but Lucas and Ian and I pressed on to my parents’ house, where Lucas got to trick-or-treat in the normal fashion. He gobbled about four chocolates down and then melted down emotionally. Time to go home! It was a long and strange night for him, but we still got him in bed by 9.

The morning started out fine. Actually, it started nice and slow. Woke at 8, made eggs and coffee. Ate them with Lucas while he had his two bowls of cereal. Did the dishes and pondered what to do today: It’s Mommy Lucas Day.

Then we played Hide & Seek for the first time ever! It was great. It went something like this:
“Mommy, you hide and I’ll count.”
I hide in the bedroom closet
“7, 8, 9. Ready or not, here I come!”
looking, looking, looking
“Mommy, where are you? Mommy, are you in the bedroom?”
“Yes”
“Oh! There you are!” giggle, giggle
My turn to count
“1, 2, … Ready or not, here I come!”
Giggle, giggle, giggle
“I’m here! I’m here!”
“Where is Lucas? Is he in the kitchen?”
Jumping out of hiding
“I’m here! I’m here!”

Later on though, he peed on his books and puzzles, refused to clean up Candy Land, which was scattered all over hell and gone, then hit me and bit me. Time out immediately ensued. ¡Ay, carumba!

After we made up and had our shower, Lucas peered into my ear with great concentration. I asked him what he saw in there.

“A Bird.”
“Really? A bird?”
“Yes”
I shook my head a little.
“It flew out.”
“What was it doing in my ear?”
“Looking for worms.”

So, there are so many things in my head that I want to write about! At least three or four things come up each day. Alas, I don’t have the time to write whenever I want to.

Today I’m wishing I could curl up on the couch with a cup of coffee and my latest novel. Or maybe drive to the library and pretend to be a woman of leisure with nothing to do but comb the stacks of books looking for the perfect diversion. Sometimes I think I missed my true calling: now at 33, I’m kinda wishing I’d checked out UC Berkeley’s Library Sciences program when I was there.

I have exactly 2 more hours to work until I have to pick up Lucas from preschool.

Speaking of preschool (this is something I’ve been meaning to write about)…. Lucas LOVES it. In fact, he hasn’t complained once about his new school. Not once! He rises bright and early and asks me every day, “What day is it today?” meaning, what am I doing today, Mom; who will I be with? When I tell him it’s a preschool day, his face lights up. I can’t tell you how happy this makes me feel. When I pick L up from school, I have to drag him away from school at the end of each day. He’s always covered in dirt and mud and sand from head to foot, tired and extremely joyful, except when I tell him it’s time to go home.

Miss Jennifer says that Lucas has fit in beautifully with the other children, and that it just seems as if he has always been with them from the start of the school year. She says that he plays beautifully with both the younger and older children. So, yay! And there are enough children in the program, so I don’t think she’s gonna close (knock on wood).

Yesterday I went online to find rain pants–rubber/plastic pants for him to wear outside in the wet weather. The garden is not off-limits just because it’s damp and rainy outside. In fact, the sand makes such great castles when it’s wet. The kids will be outside all day until end of November, I think, when it really gets cold.

Ian and I have been wondering lately if it’s just a developmental milestone or whether this is directly because of the Waldorf environment that Lucas has been in lately. It seems his interest in representational toys has waned tremendously. By “representational” I mean toys that represent real things (dolls that look human, tools that look like real tools). Lucas now spends most of his time playing with natural or everyday things and turning them into whatever he wants with his imagination. Sticks become magic wands, hats become crowns, etc. It’s really fun to watch. So, is it because he’s usually in environments that don’t have representational toys, or is it because his brain’s language center is now sufficiently built up that his imagination has taken over and is more powerful and fun than any single toy with one use can possibly be?

It’s so hard to believe, it’s actually eerie. I am having a quiet day today. Just bundling a book off to the printer, wrapping up some loose ends for another, invoicing. I decided to clean my desk–that’s always a mistake because it always gets way, way worse before it gets better. I’m waiting for another client to inundate me with more work. But I cannot make him write any faster and thus fit more conveniently into this little window that has suddenly appeared. So, I’m filling in time by paying bills, shuffling papers, filing sh-t away, waiting for instructions. Weird. So odd (and good) to breathe again.

I have a friend who’s looking to buy a home in the Sacramento area. If you have had an awesome experience with a real estate agent, I’d like to hear details. Please contact me by email or phone. Thanks!

Just a note to those of you who are dying to know more about the exciting adventures of a mom in suburbia, the angel-imp she birthed, and the patient man who holds us all together: I posted a bunch of backdated entries tonight (Feb-May).

A few weeks ago, my boys and I went up to S. Lake Tahoe to the “cabin” with some friends—foseelovechild and grlfury. It was Ian’s birthday and I had a tiny window of time to play. Before we left for Tahoe, my family reported that a bear had recently visited the cabin and was persistent enough to break a window and get in. It seems to have been attracted by the ice cream in the freezer. It ate a bunch of food and left a stain on the carpet, but otherwise did no harm apart from the busted window.

Our mini-vacation was awesome—so relaxing. We were all thrilled to be with our lovely friends. (We don’t see them often enough.) Lucas had an audience who hadn’t yet seen ALL of his tricks. We played games, ate good food, relaxed and watched shows, walked through the woods collecting pine cones and heart-shaped yellow leaves, and climbed some giant rocks. (The megara is still there, in case you were wondering.) The aspens(?) were turning to lovely pale yellows.

We also tromped on Saturday all the way down to Vikingsholm from the highway above Emerald Bay. It was a beautiful day for a mile-long walk, and Lucas did pretty good on the way down the hill. (Daddy manfully carried him back up the hill on his shoulders. Together they cleverly turned rocks into trees and trees into rocks along the way with a magic wand that someone had carelessly left in the road!) While we were at the bottom, near the bay, we explored the outside of the house and peeked into the windows; it had closed for the season the previous day. Lucas played in the sand at the water’s edge. Foseelovechild almost got a drink from some partying lake-cruisers.

So, we figured that the bear’s recent visit to the cabin would be the most exciting thing to happen there for a while. But on Saturday evening, a big wind storm blew up. While we were preparing dinner and setting the table we heard a huge thud. Those of us who couldn’t immediately see Lucas feared the worst ( —a fall from the second floor balcony). Fortunately for us all, it was just a falling tree. Fortunately for me, I could see Lucas on the second step of the stairway, and didn’t experience the momentary panic of “where’s the baby?!” So, yeah. A tree fell and sheered off the deck railing outside the cabin, narrowly missing the house. Some damage, not much. It was an exciting noise though, and an exciting wind storm.

So, even though this wonderful weekend is past, I think about the walks with friends, the sun and the wind, the magnificent view, Ian opening birthday presents, and the smile on my son’s face as he scrabbled and clambered over the granite boulders. I’m glad I have pictures. And I’m grateful for the escape.

Tahoe with friends
Lucas’s new school
pumpkin patch with train and chums
I’ve learned a lot about parrots recently
how I watched a four-figure project fee vanish today
“She has no arm!”

Too tired to try tonight.