Today I feel kinda torn, pulled in multiple directions, except instead of there being external forces asking opposing things of me, it’s all internal. 

I want to be here climbing the web, searching for new things to learn and see, alone in my little computer cocoon, or perhaps processing and uploading new photographs, or writing, or God-bless-us-all, reading a book in quiet without interruption. 

I also want to be outside with my hands in the earth, planting flowers and seeds, or doing little projects with my kids.

Unfortunately, I am really unable to do the first thing as I have both boys home (one is sleeping), and unprepared to do the second, well, because projects take forethought, materials gathering, shopping trips, and other prep work.

I guess these are the two main forces of my personality. Each side vies for attention, the right to express herself, the right to exist. Some days I’m all Leave-Me-Alone Sarabella and other days I’m happier doing things with people. I have a million little things to do and my mind races with project ideas and business ideas and get-ahead-somehow ideas and self-improvement ideas. These are probably the first urges of springtime. Mostly, these days I change diapers and keep small people safe and warm. 

I haven’t wanted a job more than this one in … well … a long, long time: 

“It’s not only children who grow.  Parents do too.  As much as we watch to see what our children do with their lives, they are watching us to see what we do with ours.  I can’t tell my children to reach for the sun.  All I can do is reach for it, myself.”  

~Joyce Maynard

I wish that setting this goal and aggressively working toward it were possible:

Tits not so saggy and belly not so baby-bulgy

Oh well, I made my bed …

It’s been exactly three months since Ian and I started our Atkins dieting. We are very pleased with our results! We have both reached our weight goals, we feel terrific, and we’re putting our skinny clothes to use again! Ian’s lost 26 pounds and I’ve lost 21. Bye bye, baby weight! It has been wonderful being able to work on this together and to have each other to lean on when in the presence of … say … cookies or beer. Ian has been cooking marvelous low-carb meals since we started and neither of us has felt deprived. We both went off our diets twice—on Christmas day and on Valentine’s Day—but managed to get right back to it. We enjoy Atkins bars for dessert in the evenings after the kiddos go to bed.

We’re turning our goals now toward increasing our activity levels. I’m considering signing up for some personal training sessions at the gym, which I pay every month and never (lately) use. How come breaking good habits is so easy but building them is so damned hard?

But anyway, here’s to success! 

I got sick on Wednesday night with a freaky intestinal virusy thing. I’ll spare you the details. Yesterday I was still sick—shaky, weak, and so sleepy from having been up half of the previous night. I pawned my baby off on gracious friends Parnasus and T for a couple of hours in the morning. (Thank you wonderful ladies!) I slept while he was gone, and worked for an hour. After I picked him up at aroung 1:30 p.m., I put the both of us to bed. We slept for three hours straight. In a way, it’s not surprising that I needed that much sleep to recover, but it’s a bloddy MIRACLE that Asher cooperated so that I could. (He sleeps better with me than alone, a habit I’ve ingrained in him and one that eventually I will regret, but for now it’s the right thing.)

In two days my weight decreased 4.6 pounds. That’s what dehydration will do for ya! Quick, call Hollywood! 

Anyway, I’m much better today. I can think and move around. My appetite is back. But damned if Asher doesn’t feel heavier than usual!

To NoNoSays, who has been my inspiration more times than I can count, who has held my hand through some fucked-up shit, who has taught me that strong is sexy and that I absolutely can, who has been there for me every time I’ve ever asked her to—even for a mysteriously awful, hopefully-never future catastrophe, 

Darling, I wish you an amazing birthday of happiness and glory, grace and revelry. I love you.

To Frostee, whose creativity knows no bounds, who can have fun anywhere at any time, who’s thoughtful and giving, who’s brave in the face of pain and adversity, who has captured for me priceless family moments, and who deserves health and wellness as well as security and fun,

Sweetpea, I hope your birthday is stupendous and ridiculous in that special way that you love. I love you.

xoxoxo 

Happy Birthday to our dear Tox  and our dear Heff. Their individual ingenuity, brilliance, and loyalty are unique on this planet. I am honored to have been able to call them my friends for nearly 20 years. I hope your birthdays are joyful, relaxing, and enlivened by bevies of hot women. 

xoxo

I’ve just finished tucking my 5-year-old in for the night. We have an elaborate but working bedtime ritual (bath or shower, brushing teeth and hair, stories, candle prayer with all of us, lights out, songs and cuddles with mommy) that begins just after dinner and ends with me creeping out of the room in the dark. I sing the same eight songs every night. Then I choose from one to six others in a regular rotation—I’m just wacky enough to mix ’em up once in a while! (Yes, I am a rockstar.)

The second-to-last song is always “Rock-A-Bye Baby.” I used to not sing this song to Lucas, but he started asking for it about a year ago. I figured one of his teachers sang this song at naptime. The last song is always “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” This one is by far his favorite lullaby.

Tonight Lucas asked me, “Does the baby really fall out of the tree, Mommy?” And I was left momentarily speechless. Because … well, I KNOW! What a terrible thing to sing to a small child! This is exactly why I chose not to sing it for so long! 

I said, lamely, “Well, it’s a way of saying the baby falls asleep.”

The internet says:

The words and lyrics to this nursery rhyme are reputed to reflect the observations of a young pilgrim boy in America who had seen Native Indian mothers suspend a birch bark cradle from the branches of a tree enabling the wind to rock the cradle and the child to sleep. The rhyme also hold a warning on the choice of bough!

Wikipedia elaborates. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rock-a-bye_Baby

(author unknown)

Rock-a-bye, baby
In the treetop
When the wind blows
The cradle will rock
When the bough breaks
The cradle will fall
And down will come baby
Cradle and all

Baby is drowsing
Cosy and fair
Mother sits near
In her rocking chair
Forward and back
The cradle she swings
And though baby sleeps
He hears what she sings

From the high rooftops
Down to the sea
No one’s as dear
As baby to me
Wee little fingers
Eyes wide and bright
Now sound asleep
Until morning light 

I think I’ll try to learn the two last verses.

Hi folks. Just a quick note to say we’re home safe and sound. We had an easy drive over the summit and down the hill today. Only one 20-minute traffic delay due to road work. We left the cabin at around noon; it was sunny and the snow was melting quickly and falling in spectacular splatty splashes off the tree limbs. We had a yummy lunch in Placerville and trooped around town on foot for a while to stretch our legs. (Attention Yarn Hos: Lofty Lou’s is a nice shop! http://www.knit.us/)

Now it’s rustle-Lucas-off-to-bed-time so he can get to school tomorrow.