Alison Hodgson

Expert on the etiquette of perilous times.

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Today we are preparing for Eden’s half birthday, her “Friend Party”.  She has been busy gathering streamers and rifling though the cupboard that contains all our baking supplies.  Just a moment ago she called out, “I want to use this to put my cake on.”

I had a feeling that “this” was the antique glass cake pedestal that I store on the top shelf of the baking cupboard.  I hustled into the kitchen to find Eden squatting on the counter with the pedestal beside her.  She was smiling widely and seeing her rang a sort of bell, but I wasn’t sure what.  I rifled my visual memory for photographs of her or her sister and then I realized, she was making me think of me.  Squatting there on the counter, a sweet and utterly satisfied smile on her face, she was an echo of a younger me, except with Paul’s blue and sleepy eyes.
I don’t usually look for myself in my children; producing three near clones of their father has kept me from that.  And yet there are times, like this morning, where our likenesses flash out and I see, if for only a moment, that I am not just a conduit, but a spring, a well.

https://alisonhodgson.com/2008/07/419/

38 is great!

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Last night, as I was tucking her into bed, Eden asked what kind of birthday I wanted.  

“What do you mean?”  
“Well, Rennie’s having a Princess birthday and I’m having a horse and Chihuahua birthday, what kind do you want.”
I knew it wouldn’t be any good to explain that adults don’t usually have themes.  “I want a flower birthday.”  I said.
“You always pick that.”  She said, without missing a beat.
It was  a good day.  Paul took it off but it was fairly low key.  We went out to lunch while the kids went to see Wall E with their cousin, Ren, and  her Grandpa and Grandm P., who she shares with my kids and who treated everyone.  Torey and Willa Z. came along for the ride.

After lunch Paul took the kids to a park and the library so that I could stay home and write.  When they returned Lydia and I did a little math, as she is doing some extra credit this summer.  
There weren’t any presents to unwrap or candles to blow out, but they all made me cards, even Paul.  We have had a couple of projects around the house done that we have counted towards several holidays.
I jokingly told Paul today, “Your presence is your gift.”
And it was.

“39…for the first time”

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That’s what Paul’s says whenever he’s asked how old he’ll be this year.

What is he doing? You might be wondering. This, my dear friends, is a Grade A example of “Flower Face.” Often, when one of has been sweet or is feeling sheepish or shyly proud, the other one will command the one with all the feelings to, “Make a flower face.”

We don’t get out a lot.

My intention was to post of picture that showed Paul as the handsome, dignified man, he is,but (at least on Photobooth and without me) there were none to be found. People who don’t drop their cameras and people who do drop their cameras and then replace them, don’t face these sorts of challenges. Clearly I’m not those kind of people.

Happy Birthday, my wonderful nut, many, many more.

Checking In

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Paul is in Orlando today. He got up this morning at 4:30, flew out at 6:30 and will be back tonight after 10. I really admire how hard he works and without complaint. He just tries to keep all the balls in the air. I need to check in with him more about what is going on at work so that I can support him, if only with compassion and understanding. (Aside to Paul: Dude check in with me too. Help a girl help you.) Fortunately I was paying attention last night and realized that a lot of demands were being placed on him professionally and so I was for him rather than trying to load more things on his back.

It’s so easy to be myopic.

I had a good day writing, Tuesday, great really. I finished an essay that I am going to speak from next week. Later that night I began to panic because the talk I am giving for our writer’s conference on the 12th isn’t done yet. Spent yesterday worried but have since begun figuring out how to make the time between school, my mom’s birthday, tomorrow, Christopher’s friend party, Saturday and family party and actual birthday, Sunday.

I have felt agitated, tired and weepy all day and all day I’ve been telling myself I have no reason (not pre-menstrual, had a decent night’s sleep) to feel this way instead of being curious why I am.

Today would have been my dad’s 69th birthday. Although I am not consciously upset about it, some part of me is mourning.

I don’t have a snappy finish to this. The kids need to be fed and the barking dog reprimanded. Will feed the hungry and discipline the naughty, do some of my work and then welcome my husband home. when he arrives.