I meant to post this weeks ago but it slipped my mind. Lucas made all these cutie pies with modeling clay. Modeling clay is really fun when you’re stuck indoors!
I forget what the critter at the back right is, but the others are a turtle and a bluebird. In the front are a swan, a dolphin, a duck, and a penguin. But you knew that.
Something I did more or less right yesterday.
Lemon and herb roasted chicken, roasted mixed vegetables (beats, leeks, bell peppers, chard), and quinoa.
This is one of those posts in which I tell the ugly truth.
My children have been sick this week. Lucas came down with a cold when he was sleeping over at Grandma and Papa’s house last Saturday night. He came home on Sunday feeling pretty bad and stayed home from school Monday through Wednesday. Yesterday he was clearly feeling better and really bored with being home; I know this because he kept getting into trouble. He actually swung from the curtain and ripped the rod and fitting right out of the wall. Another time I caught him climbing the wire dresser drawers in his closet and throwing toys stacked on the high closet shelf down to the floor. This makes for a frustrating time for both of us.
Understandably, this morning Lucas begged to be allowed to go back to school, so we packed him off for the day — and good riddance! Alas, by 10 a.m. he was done, feeling sick and tired again, and asking to come home. Later today, though, he told me that he blames me — I am so selfish I won’t let him go back to school. He decided that Ms. Duncan (his teacher) would be his mommy from now on. He doesn’t want me anymore. Honestly, why did I ever teach him to talk?
Asher came down with the same cold on Tuesday, so I figure that’s a whole week of work time shot. He won’t nap today with his brother home and being crazy. Consequently, Asher isn’t exactly in the best of moods for lack of a proper rest and being sick.
I’m just not able to be very productive with my editing when they’re home sick. Be patient, please, my books! I hope to get back to you soon. I may have to escape this weekend and work elsewhere to catch up if Asher is still ill, or if Ian comes down with the cold, too. (We share everything around here, especially germs!)
A few good things have happened this week, though:
* I was able to finish my donations to the school fundraiser auction yesterday (see yesterday’s post). I’m happy with how they turned out.
* I bought a client gift that I’ve been meaning to buy for several months now. Deciding on the perfect thing was tough, but I think I’ve got it now. I sent her Andy Goldsworthy’s first book of his land art. We’ll see if she likes it.
* I signed Lucas up for some fun morning-long camp days at Effie Yeaw Nature Center during spring break. I’ve also advertised this fact to some of his best buddies’ parents in the hopes that they will sign their kids up, too. One program is about woodpeckers and the other is about worms and bugs. He loves those day camps. Too bad their budget is so limited this year. Last year they had camp every morning for a week; this year it’s only two days.
* I bought some stuff for the next couple of holidays (St. Patrick’s Day and Easter). I’m planning a few projects to do with the kiddos, which will be fun I think. I’m trying to be better about planning ahead this year.
See how I’m counting my blessings? They say that’s the trick.
Geez. Sometimes I just feel like I’m not so good at this parenting job. I’m really struggling today. I wonder why I don’t have as much patience as I want to have, why I can’t be more “here now,” as they say. I wish I could somehow be 100% fulfilled by wiping noses and catering meals. I wish I could shake this desperate feeling. If I could, I think I might be happier.
Never mind.
The day started with blueberry smoothies
and Lego construction of video game hardware
Like Wii and DS
That’s all he needs, really—little Lego devices on which he can pin his imaginary games
The boys left to play at our friends’ house and indulge in a little real Wii Sports
Then for me, some light reading: a fundamentals of nursing textbook
I was lured outside for some photography
Gotta catch these plum blossoms before they’re gone
See the little star?
An unexpected visit from Mom and a cup of coffee
More nursing reading on topics of theories of caring, cultural sensitivity, and the ADPIE nursing process
I jogged through the sunshiny neighborhood to pick up the kids from their play date—oh boy, am I out of shape!
Walking/running home with one son in fast, new white trainers and the other wearing the jumpiest pair of firefighter galoshes you’ve ever seen
Second lunch of meat for Baby Asher Dragon
Lunch of leftover vegetable soup for me
A little planting of primroses, which will probably do fine where we put them until it gets too warm
Finding a worm
Watering plants lead to spraying children who cavorted with great glee and got soaking wet
In February!
High of 65° F
Ahhh!
We met a garden foefriend
Who couldn’t find his way off this plate
Dry clothes for everyone
Then a cuddle and some stories; the children are into playing Monkey and Dragon these days, so we read books with, what else?
Monkeys and dragons
Hug (Thanks, Auntie NoNo and Uncle Mars!)
and—what the hay—a Japanese fairy tale called “Kuzma and the Fox”
Sweet afternoon slumber for the wee one
Lucas and I headed back outdoors for some Winter Olympic Games
Like speed skating, long track
Figure skating
and ice hockey
On the lawn with bare feet!
More work reading
A few moments of “DragonFly TV” and “Fetch with Ruff Ruffman” on PBS Kids for Lucas
Asher wandered out, crawled into my lap and slept on
So sweet
Cuddling sleeping boys is just about the best thing in the world (unless you have to pee)
“Wake up, Asher, or you’ll never sleep tonight!”
A shower for me
Pretend video games for Lucas
Daddy’s home!
Lucas reading Jamberry to Asher!
Just a tad of stream-of-consciousness blogging
Sounds of some kind of Dragon and Monkey game with lots of sound effects and shouting
Soon, dinner and bedtime
Then project prep
More work reading, like the Roy Adaptation Model
G’night
Sleep tight.
Lucas has been enjoying playing with Fuse Beads lately. You arrange them standing on end in patterns and then fuse them together with a clothes iron.
Lucas quickly tired of following the suggested patterns and created a whole army of little guys. They each have a name, though I can’t tell you what the names are; I could not pronounce them even if I remembered them.
Here are a few familiar characters: a fused R2D2 and a Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader ready to fuse. I’d better get on that!
For this one, he used the fuse beads in a different way. Waldorf kids are cool.
Isn’t life amazing? Yesterday I held a kind of vigil for some loved ones, quietly and patiently waiting for news about health issues. My two candles burned all the time I was home and until I closed my eyes to sleep. It’s good work—holding people in your heart all day, breathing small prayers past your lips and into your everyday actions. Wash a dish, say a prayer. Take a walk, say a prayer. Fold the laundry, say a prayer.
Today, we’re still waiting for important news from one loved one. So the vigil continues.
Ian and the boys are robust, lovely, and soldiering on. We have daily conflicts and challenges, things to learn, and things to work on. And yet we march forward each day to face them, process them, learn from them, and to make the world a better place through sharing our love. And we are happy.
The world keeps turning. Projects end, begin, and continue. Homework comes due (yikes!). Dinners are cooked. Metaphorical and imaginary fires (especially if you’re Baby Asher Firefighter) must be put out. What is needed? How can we help? We pick up our tools and go to work.
Some of us fake it until we can make it. Some play-act through our fear and confusion. “You need surgery, Mom. Go to sleep. I have to cut you open and take out this lump. Oh no! Here is another one. Better get that one, too, before it spreads. OK. Now you’ll be all better. Does it hurt? Here is some medicine. I’ve saved you!” Processing … My heart seems to break a little more every day … for all the good and all the bad in life.
And speaking of hearts, celebrations for Valentine’s Day are in the works. I get to make and then serve a Valentine’s snack for 27 hungry children on Friday (mmm … strawberry muffins with honey-sweetened cream-cheese topping). Tokens of friendship and love are being made by small hands everywhere. Can you hear the click of their pens, the slicing of their safety scissors in paper, the sprinkling of glitter over white glue? I can. I can hear the painstaking scratching of No. 2 pencils signing names 26 times.
We humans are a study in the paradox of steadfastness and flexibility. We turn to one another—some offering, some asking for help. We carry fears and frustrations, crippling pains, loves, and our joie de vivre through all the buffeting storms.
Isn’t life amazing? Isn’t it grand?
Edit: The news we were waiting for is Happy News!
Do not eat onion rings, even if the opportunity comes up and you quickly flash on being roughly six years old and eating onion rings at A&W with your dad, who also ordered you a chocolate milkshake and then patiently listened to every word you said, no matter that he might have been tired or bored or stressed or whatever. He was there. With you. Showing all his love.
Put plainly, no onion rings in the world will ever be that good again. Ever.
And they will make your tummy hurt and you will have bad food dreams at night about eating junk.
It was a great weekend! Ian and I got to go to see Eddie Izzard play Oakland’s Oracle Arena with some friends. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a bigger venue for anything. We had nosebleed seats way up top, but it didn’t much matter. We so enjoyed him. Anybody who does Latin jokes is my hands-down favorite. I took a pic with my cell phone, but I don’t know how to get the picture to my computer…
Yesterday we moved Lucas’s bed into Asher’s room. Well, Lucas and Ian moved the bed. I performed support tasks and kept Asher out of the way. It’s quite an adventure taking Ikea furniture apart and putting it back together again. Good think my hubby’s so handy! Both of the boys seem very excited about this new arrangement. Last night at bedtime there was a kind of slumber-party feeling in the air. I expect it will take some getting used to, but I think they will adapt nicely. Asher’s bed is now beneath Lucas’s bed, which gives Asher a kind of cubbyhole to sleep in. I think he will come to really like that, at least for a time. We’ll leave things like this awhile and eventually move my office into Lucas’s old bedroom. I feel a little guilty taking his room from him—it’s been his since his birth. But the new arrangement will give my office a door (a blessed, beautiful door!) that I can close to keep out family noise while I’m working. I look at it as a short- to medium-term investment in my sanity and my business, and possibly in my kids’ relationship. Perhaps sharing a room will promote brotherly closeness. Or perhaps that’s my wishful thinking.
I got to share a meal with some girlfriends last night and I’m more determined than ever to make that a more regular occurrence. I just need to get out more and my kids can now handle it better.
We’re getting ready for Asher’s birthday party next weekend. I’m excited!
I’m not a very patient person. About a hundred times a day, I have to take a deep breath and try to start over. Try to put aside the anger or frustration of the last moment and enter this moment with calm and right intention.
Start over.
It’s a practice; it often fails me, or I fail at it, but sometimes it works. It’s a constant effort to achieve forgiveness and regain my patience because we four bumble around each other in this smallish space, spilling food and bonking heads and fetching water and failing to share and making room and feeding bellies and cleaning messes. Without this starting over, this negotiation and mindful regrouping, we would never get through the day—any day, even the good ones.
I write here about the things I want to focus on, the good feelings, the good moments of family life because I want to remember them. Truly, our lives are so full and we enjoy so much good fortune. Conversely, I really try not to wallow in my feelings of frustration and rage, for doing so doesn’t do me any good and it harms the people around me. My children thrive when I’m present and patient. When I’m insane and shouting, we are all miserable. So I write to remember the good things someday in the future, but also to regroup and refocus right now on why I do what I do, why I am here and not elsewhere. It helps me remember my purpose, it helps me feel better about who I am and my current place in the universe. It helps me start over.
It’s easy for me to slip into complaining, and while I do think that occasionally writing about the crappy parts of this Mommy job is essential to maintaining my sanity, I try hard not to do it all the time. For if I don’t actively write about the great stuff, the sweet parts of this work, I easily drift off-course into dreary waters where dragons lurk.
For me, it’s a constant internal struggle and sometimes—usually—my riotous feelings must be subsumed in the needs of the family. Sometimes I hate it and want to break things, but doing so doesn’t change anything for anybody for the better. So I start over. Sometimes, on the other hand, I do have to cry or walk away for a while—to take care of myself and also to show my kids that I am a human being, that my feelings can be hurt when they are careless. If I’m careful about when I reveal this notion that Mommy is human, it can help us all start over. Sometimes I shout and lose it, and then crushing waves of guilt knock me off my feet. And then, once again, I start over.
The truth is, when Daddy is with us, I feel like 100 percent better and really do stay happier and in the moment. We can take turns being the strong/good one. He is my best friend and when he’s with me, it’s easy to see and feel how gorgeous all this that we have together is, how blessed we are. It’s when he is away and I’m with the kids for hours and hours without him that I start feeling lonely and stuck and jealous and hurt and a little bit like … how the hell did I get here?
And then some milk spills, or someone gets hurt, or the oven beeps, or a diaper needs changing, or a book needs reading aloud. Something happens—whatever this moment holds. I take a deep breath, and I start over.
