Archives for September 2005

We all are. It has been a really busy week. I have been gone every night with various meetings. This is unusual for me but crawling out from under the rock and getting out is really good.

School is going surprisingly well. When I tell people this the common response is, “Really!” in a sort of disbelieving tone.

I’m not saying it’s perfect. If you asked me how motherhood is going, at 10:00 I might say “Splendidly!” but at 10:15 I might not be able to answer because I am absorbed in throttling one of them. And as Paul said, “Nothing was perfect when they were in school.”

But really, things are going well. True, at least one of them has “Be a total jerk” highlighted in their planners almost every day but who doesn’t? The Bird “Loves it!” C. Riley is resigned but still complaining. Perhaps that isn’t true resignation. He recognizes it as the lesser of two evils.

Today we played “Duck, duck goose” before lunch per Birdie’s suggestion. Any game with a two year old is funny. Beanie would get up at the wrong time and then run the opposite direction about ten cycles. At one point Birdie was letting her chase her and being so silly. She was yelling in some goofy accent pretending to be an old lady. She outran the Bean and came up behind her, tapped her on the shoulder and said, “Ma’am, have you seen Beanie?” Mind you both girls are running. I laughed out loud a real laugh because my kid was funny, not the obligatory in response to her thinking she is funny or stifled at her expense, but a full on guffaw because her little bit was really clever. I need to write that down…duly noted.

Hope everyone is well. Tonight is my last meeting for some time so I should be back on the blog.

A Bean is shouting. Gotta Dash.

Well, the Ladies Weekend became a Ladies 24 hours. I found this out Friday afternoon. “It’s not Saturday night too?”

“No.”

“Oh…when do I have to go home?”

“My date with Rob starts at 7:30.”

“I see.” Paul didn’t expect me back until Sunday. Think think.

The thing is I was so tired I couldn’t. I was exhausted from waking around 3 a.m. and time kept slipping backwards. 12 p.m. to 5:30 p.m. on Friday took about four days to pass. Trust me.

We had a great time. We watched the sun set on the Lake and then enjoyed conversation under the stars. We stayed up way too late but awoke fairly early then took a walk down to the beach and walked along the shore. When we got back to the cottage one of the women made amazing mango smoothies and then surprised us with plates she had made up of pasta salad, fresh strawberries with cheese and crackers. It so hit the spot. It was light and satisfying. And it felt so wonderful to have it all taken care of, to be served. Later we visited our hostess’ home that is being built then headed back to the Lake to read and relax in the sun. It was so hot I had to get into the cold cold water. There were waves and we had fun diving over and into them.

My hostess remarked, “I haven’t been this far out all summer.”

“Because you haven’t been here without kids.”

“Right.”

Everyone except for me and my hostess had to leave around 3 p.m. We stayed and she fell asleep while I read. We took one more dip then walked back to the cottage and showered. We only had a couple hours before her kids and husband would come home.

I had been craving guacamole for a week and planned to make it but a trip to get ingredients had been thwarted twice. We hoped to go some place and have a margarita with some chips and salsa and guacamole. There didn’t seem to be any place that wouldn’t require a lot of driving and then backtracking. And then I thought of the place down the road. I mentioned it to my hostess.

“That would be perfect.” I wanted to walk but it seemed a little far in the heat and given our limited time. When my hostess was looking for her keys I mentioned this. “Oh but it’s not far when you walk by the lake.”

!!!!!!

So we were able to take one more walk under the shady trees and admire the various cottages and look at the water. The lodge, sadly, was not on the lake but had a deck over looking the parking lot. We sat outside and when our server brought us our chips and guacamole she said, “It’s homemade. Enjoy.”

We did.

I once was the sort of girl, who, given a glass three quarters full would bitch about the quarter missing; who, sitting on a restaurant’s patio with a fun companion and good food would see the unattractive view. Last night, overlooking the gravel covered lot of cars all I saw were the trees across the road. It felt so good to be content and grateful.

This has been a long year filled with blessings and wonderful opportunities that have required time, stretching and work. Since becoming a mother I haven’t had a superfluity of energy and this year has been especially draining. Looking back I can see the only time I took away from my family and home was different work for church.

Part of the blessing/struggle has been Paul’s newish job. He loves it and is so grateful to be learning from his boss. He travels all over the world. I am so happy he is doing something he loves, that he is learning and growing. Every one is happy for him and so eager to hear about all the interesting and exotic places he has visited. This summer I found myself begrudging this, feeling like the “little woman”/piece of old bologna.

Could no one see that Paul’s wonderful, amazing job made my own so much harder? In short, I was feeling like a victim. And that is not the way I want to feel nor who I want to be. I tried to get off it. I tried to shift, but I felt stuck and tired.

I didn’t want Paul to literally sing “Have I ever told you, you’re my hero…” but I wanted to get that he felt I was the stinkin’ wind beneath his wings, which is so much stronger and attractive than aged meat by- products.

I realize I need to get away, if only for an evening, from time to time to breathe and come back with gratitude and love. I want to know that I will be filled regardless how full the glass. Given a break and some rest, I am so clear on this, so aware of my blessings.

Thank you, Sara, for creating a space and for inviting us all in.

Thank you, Paul, for freeing me to go and being there with open arms when I returned.

“Tiny hammers could help me sleep…” sung to the tune of “Tiny Bubbles” I think. I am a notorious lyric messer upper or rather a creative genius depending on your angle. For years I thought the line in the Brady Bunch went, “They were formed there living all together…But they were all alone.” It made sense, sort of elegiac – the loss of the mom bonded them all but it was so lonely. Whereas “four men” um hello, they were a bunch of boys and a dad. Who would think of that? OK obviously the songwriter and apparently, most of the listening audience.

Did all of you hear “four men”? I am willing to consider it is me. I really am but what about Alice? Was she just a piece of bologna? In my version she is part of the “formed there” cuz she bonded with them too. Think about it.

May I just say something here? Isn’t it cool the way the brain works, the way it fills in the blanks in so many places? I was composing the sentence above and the word “elegiac” came to mind. That is one that I don’t really use but is up there from reading. I looked it up to make sure I am using it properly and read, “Of or pertaining to an elegy or elegies. 2. Expressing sorrow; mournful” Excellent. Then I read elegy, “A mournful poem, especially one that laments the dead.” Bingo.

If you had put a gun to my head and told me to define elegiac I probably would have first soiled myself and then mumbled or shrieked, “HUH?…Um sad, UH (Oh bother I can’t think of the other word. This is the real me not the figurative gun held to my head me) Come on…SYMBOLIC!

“Sad and symbolic” which really isn’t far off though it was back in the files and I have never looked it up.

While looking up elegiac I came across the Periodic Table of Elements. I have been wanting to blog this.

True story:

Junior or Senior year of high school I took Chemistry. (Help me out Scott) Although I was no mathmetician, it was formulas that kept me in science. I was all about “Give me the formula and I will solve the problem.” I wasn’t terribly interested in learning nor in uncovering the mysteries of the chemical universe; I wanted an “A”. Formulas got me one. If I just looked for the numbers to stick in the formulas and brushed everything else aside I was fine. I knew I didn’t really understand chemistry but that wasn’t why I was there. Bottom line me, Baby. A huge chart of the Periodic Table of the Elements covered the north wall. I was required to memorize the various symbols ( now all forgotten) but I didn’t understand the placement. Being a bit of a twitcher it bothered me. If I had arranged it I would have pulled Hydrogen, Helium and all of the second row down and shoved them in that space between Magnesium and Aluminum. Then I would have pushed Francium, Radium Actinides to a nice neat center on the bottom. That would have looked nice and symmetrical. (Remind me to blog about Estelle who loves symmetry.) Anyway, it was all just so many boxes. Again the funny workings of the brain. Apparently in my reading or in the lectures my brain was working away at everything I so carelessly discarded.

Cut to the final exam. I am sitting in the front row, (yes, I am pushing up my imaginary glasses although it was a really small class and pretty much all of us were in the first two rows.) Scott, I see myself on the end, Dan next to me and you next to him. We are all busily scribbling away. I am busy figuring out what numbers go where when I pause to look up to think or exhale and my eye rested on the Periodic Table of the Elements on my right. The heavens probably didn’t actually open as a ray of sun shone on the Table but it felt like it. Suddenly it made sense. I understood why everything was where it was. It was as if everything had been moving and then it all settled into place and I could finally read it clearly. I wanted to shout. After months of slogging through with a dim understanding and a passle of “A’s” I finally got it. I wish I could convey what an amazing experience it was…until I looked down at my exam and could no longer fill in the formulas.

!!!

I had a split second choice. On one hand I had the possibility of a real education, learning and understanding, on the other I had the proof of it, if not the fact. In a panic I chose the proof and shut my eyes and imagined myself shoving the epiphany right out of my brain. When I opened them the formulas made sense again and the Table has been a mystery since.

I got an A.

How is that a picture of my life? I’ll tell you later.

………………………………….

Well kids, I am off the blog for a couple of days as I am going to a friend’s for a ladies weekend. There will only be three of us. I am going to suck the marrow of this pretty little time. I love love love my hostess and we are on the same page “Be quiet, relax, take long walks, cook together, eat healthy food (with the exception of Dots candy in popcorn, her request and guacamole, mine.) I tried to come on Tuesday, but she was firm, “The weekend starts on Friday, Alison” Picky. Picky.

Are you wondering how the place is going to be quiet if I am there? We are planning to read. Ha!

Have a great weekend.

She’s been keeping us on our toes. Getting her out of the bath, I laid her on my bed and ran for a diaper. You would not know I have been doing this gig for almost 10 years. When I got back and started to dry her off I noticed an ominous yellow stain. “Beansie did you pee?” “Yes,” was the complacent reply. I pulled up the towel and saw there was a little yellow stain on my coverlet, a smaller one on both sheets and the mattress pad and a tiny stain on the mattress itself. Argh.

“How could you wet my bed!” I said.

“Axcelly, it was the towole.” A pedant at two.

“Axcelly, you wet every layer on my bed.” I corrected.

She had trouble sleeping and Birdie evacuated the room around 9:00 to try and sleep on our bed. Around 9:30 I heard Beanie yelling for her “stistah”. I went in to check on her. She complained that her tummy hurt so I hauled her out. I was wrestling her into a pair of jammies when she said she had some poopie. That is how she announces her need for the facilities – as if the deed was already done. I checked her diaper and asked her if she needed to sit on the potty. “Yes, on my potty train.”

She sat there for a few minutes before Paul called me over to look at something that most adults would be relieved to excrete. (What a nasty verb.) There was some extensive wiping involved and then she was trying to wrestle the pot free from her chair, since pouring it in the toilet to flush is the main thrill, when her hand grazed the enormous poo sticking out. Paul and I both made sounds of pain and I hurriedly grabbed some more wet wipes and decontaminated her little paw.

Just file the two of us jammed into that tiny, smelly bathroom helping our two year old with her business under “You know you are a parent when…”

Ours is a very large file.

I have had a dream of someone inventing a little tiny hammer that could be used to gently, ever so gently, tap an exhausted and crazed child on the head and immediately induce sleep.

I have dreamed of a slightly larger one for Paul to tap me on head with when I need a nap but can’t let go or when I awake in the middle of the night and sleep continues to elude me.

If anyone has such a thing please oh please send several my way.