The Spice Choir

not a metaphor at all

2011-11-27T20:08:00.000-08:00

I decided, in my quest to reinvigorate my Spanish, to change the settings on my iPhone to Spanish. Now when I type, I don't get auto-corrected back to English.
I had been afraid that I wouldn't be able to type in English (getting auto-corrected back to Spanish). Except there's a little button to push when typing that has a globe on it, and it will auto-correct to English temporarily. Which is frickin' brilliant.

It's also very sad to me. Because so many English speakers don't even have reason to notice that such a button would be useful. And we don't realize how the rest of the world caters to us, every time they press a button.

Hey, don't get me wrong. I'm proud of the fact that the iPhone and Windows and a host of other technologies came out of our country. I love English, and I feel lucky it's the world's lingua franca. I just wish we understood what a gift that is, and made some small, small attempt to reciprocate.

opening doors

2011-11-07T20:44:00.000-08:00

We were blessed with visitors over the weekend. Friends of mine from my year abroad in Argentina visited with their three lovely daughters. Our kids (two languages, three nationalities) mixed and played pirates and held hands through a day at an amusement park.
I greeted my dear, dear friends with delight and made a cake for their middle daughter, who turned three while they were with us.
I spoke in Spanish for the first time in years, and realized, to my amazement and delight, that it still hasn't disappeared. My vocabulary sucks, yes, and my grammar isn't great either, but I still understand my friends, and can make jokes.
What a blessing, to be able to joke and laugh bilingually.
I had trouble sleeping while they were here because my brain was rediscovering whole cities of knowledge it had forgotten. I woke up in the middle of the night, remembering how to say "drop of water" in Spanish. I went over conversations in my head, remembering the correct way to say things.
Now they are gone, and I'm sad, but also thankful. Because that world is there, and now I know it's not as far away as I thought.

insert cuteness here

2011-10-23T20:26:00.001-07:00

It's so hard to record baby talk. Especially when the five year old is talking at the same time. I have a word count my brain can handle each day, and it's usually filled up by about 9:30 am.

However, Julia is talking. A lot. We had lots of words for a while. Now we have sentences.

A few samples:

Julia, why don't you do your puzzle?
"Oooohhh. yeeeah!"

"Angry. Monster. Mama?" (Meaning, Mama, pretend to be an angry monster.)

"Hi Pad? Yes? Sissy, Hi Phone?" (Meaning, Lucy has the iPhone. So can I have the iPad?"

"Mama bye? No. No Mama bye."

"Missing you, Mama."

The last one, obviously, kills me.

another birth book

2011-10-19T20:13:00.000-07:00

I read another birth book, "Deliver This", and wanted to put it out there. I have a feeling other home birth vets might not love it--since it presents all the birth options out there (from homebirth to elective (by the woman) caesarian) with equal weight. What I liked was this:

Very few books by people not already convinced of the need to overhaul the current birth system will write so respectfully of home birth or birth centers. I felt like Marisa Cohen tried hard to abandon her misconceptions about natural birth and take it seriously. For that reason, I could give this to someone preparing for birth and felt like I was showing them options, without hitting them over the head with natural birth info that they might see as propaganda. Resources in the back would point them to great books, like Gaskin or Goer who could further guide them.
No one is served by women duking it out over birth choices. Less eye-rolling and more real discussion would do everyone good.
If all women would see the options, perhaps more would do the research on their own, and make actual choices. What breaks my heart in birth stories is not women who make choices different then mine--it's women that wanted one thing, but felt like they got another, without their consent. More empowerment, more responsibility for women preparing for birth has to be a good thing.

So there. Everyone should go check it out. Especially if you know someone who is not sure what kind of birth experience would suit them.

half full. I think.

2011-10-18T22:08:00.000-07:00

With the cold and flu season upon us, I am not surprised to find myself fighting something. I've had a cough for the last week, and it does not seem to be going away any time soon. Last year, it seemed like I'd no sooner recover from a cold then I got another one.
Anyway, I say a cough, and that's what I have. No sniffles, no sore throat, none of that awful taste in my mouth or the crushing headache or--you know.
In fact, I feel pretty good about the fact that the last three times I've been sick it's been like this. One or two annoying symptoms, a lot of tiredness, but not the full-blown cold. Maybe my immune system is really pumped! I'm so healthy! This year is going to be different!
Of course, I've been sick-ish a lot over the last month. In fact, it seems (perhaps I'm whining) I'm mostly sick most of the time. It's an improvement over last year, but--not exactly a victory. (Cough. Cough.)
Hmmm. And there I'm stuck. Because I can't decide whether to (sort of) celebrate the cough, or feel like my immune system is going to hell in a handbasket.

math, homeschool style

2011-10-17T20:44:00.000-07:00

Lucy has been spending 99% of her free time doing artwork. Lots of artwork. Watercolor, masks, cards, oil pastels, beading, coloring. You name it.
She has not been interested much in say, more traditional school subjects.
So today, I snuck it in at dinner time. We all had cut up veggies with our dinner. As she ate them, she said, "I have six left!"
"But how many sets do you have?" I asked.
She looked, and said, "Three?" We all went around and counted our sets.

Yes, I marked that down as our math lesson on our daily log. Set theory, check.

the beauty of leftovers

2011-10-13T20:40:00.000-07:00

Lately, Dyami and I have been working a lot. A LOT. So dinner has been a challenge. I realized that some nights, I don't have time to cook, but I do it anyway, because I love cooking. It relaxes me, and having yummy food to eat relaxes me even more.
Plus, then my husband cleans up. (Thank you, Dyami)

However, some nights, I don't have much in the way of new food to prepare, and I don't have time to prepare the non-existant food, and we have leftovers from five different meals in the fridge, and I realize that I can do leftovers.

I never loved leftovers as a kid (unless we were talking pizza or fried chicken). But man, as an adult, I dig it.

treasure box

2011-10-11T14:21:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I was folding laundry in the living room, when I heard a crash. I went into the garage, and saw nothing out of the ordinary except for a lone bottle of water toppled onto the floor.
I went back inside. Three minutes later: CRASH! BAM! POW!

I ran into the garage this time, and definitely saw the source of the noise: three storage boxes on their sides, contents partially spilled.

What had tipped them over?

We'd balanced some other bottles of water on the boxes, and one of them had gotten punctured somehow. Half of its contents had leaked out....soaking the top of a cardboard box that's filled with Dyami's and my old papers (school essays we liked, precious letters from friends, diaries). This you probably Would Not Want to Get Wet.

I decided cleaning up the spill took precedence over the laundry.

What might have been a horrible tale of ruined treasures, however, is actually a tale of rediscovered treasures. Only a few things were water-logged beyond repair. I'm lucky I heard everything falling over. The stuff that was most precious to me (namely, a bunch of my letters from college, notebooks I filled while I was studying abroad, etc), were fine.

And so I looked through a bunch of old memories for part of an hour, and marvelled. Because back in the day, I kept me some diaries. Some of them (when I lived in Argentina), I kept in blank-sheeted drawing notebooks, which makes them all the more compelling: space for calligraphy, and drawings, and just jam-packed text. The text isn't super-exciting (though I did find diaries from when Dyami and I started dating, and my entry for September 11th), but the sheer amount of WORDs is quite astonishing.

I left thinking that maybe I needed to start a diary again. Something that feels artistic in my hand, and that I make into more of an art work, a daily practice of working with my hands.

It might mean that I post less here, because the sheer physicality of the memories really charmed me.

I'll keep you posted.

activity

2011-10-03T20:04:00.000-07:00

They pruned trees in front of our house today--big old trees, all in a row along the avenue. It required several hours and very large equipment.
I was watching a friend's toddler, and after a few minutes of everyone being frightened by the noise, I explained that the trees were getting a haircut. And that they were chopping up the bits of leftover tree and putting them in the truck.
And then I sat and read while two mesmerized two-year-olds watched the workers. Who knew yard maintenance could be so darn useful?

home

2011-10-02T20:43:00.000-07:00

I had a moment of panic when plans got cancelled. I had childcare arranged, and it fell through, and I have a lot (lot) of work that needs doing. Work with deadlines and such.

And then I remembered that I've been feeling overscheduled lately, what with having something scheduled every single day. For three days, all day is pretty much scheduled. Which is two days too much.

So we have a free day tomorrow. And suddenly, I'm craving it.

Hidden blessings, in the form of open space.

more red tide metaphors

2011-09-28T20:37:00.000-07:00

This one from Lucy: Mama, the red tide looks like blue fairies dancing through the edge of the water.

wonder

2011-09-27T20:08:00.001-07:00

I went out and saw the red tide tonight. Eerie lightshow on the waves, in long ribbons of lumenescent blue.
It struck me that all my metaphors to describe it are from the world of entertainment, special effects and light shows.

My husband makes software to do stop-frame animation, which as an art form nearly died when people started doing computer animation. But funny thing: after a while, we all realized you could do pretty much anything with a computer, and that can get boring. What are we amazed by now? Real things. Real things that awaken us to the possibilities (literally) in our fingertips.

Much as I love computers and the interWeb, I hope I can introduce my daughters to the REAL possibilities out there.

disconnect

2011-09-26T20:16:00.001-07:00

I can't blame it on sleep, or a long day of kid-watching, or lack of caffeine. Whatever the cause, my brain's gears never really connected to the motors. Methinks it's time to fold laundry and watch TV and go to bed early.
Thus ends today's brilliant post.

what you really really want

2011-09-26T09:57:00.000-07:00

I needed a few minutes of (ahem) privacy. A toddler (who will remain unnamed) was lingering in the doorway.
Dyami called her from the other room. "Julia, come here."
"No."
"Do you want to read some books?"
"No."
"Do you want some hugs?"
"No."
"Do you want some tickles?"
"No."
"Do you want some pinches?"
Pause. "Yes." Toddles away.

when you know you really need the tea

2011-09-22T20:11:00.000-07:00

Boiled water, added the tea bag, added sugar, waited for it to steep, added sugar, took out tea bag, stirred, sipped. Bleh.

So then I...

Dumped out the tea, boiled water, added the tea bag, added sugar, waited for it to steep, added sugar (yes, I know) took out tea bag, stirred, sipped.

Drank it. Because at that point caffeine trumped taste.

a new game

2011-09-21T19:37:00.000-07:00

We created a new game today. I'm thinking about trying to bring it to market.
It's pretty simple: you grab a kid, and then you say, "Ham scramble!" over and over again against their neck.
It's pretty fun. I think it could be huge.

the art of negotiation

2011-09-19T20:10:00.000-07:00

Tonight, lying in bed:
Me: Lucy, I'm going to go in the other room now.
Lucy: No, you need to stay for fifty and one thousand minutes.
Me: It sounds like you'd like me to stay longer. How about I stay for another minute?
Lucy: Seven minutes.
Me: How about three?
Lucy: No! Three hundred!
Me, sighing: I'll stay for one more minute.
Lucy: Okay.

not exactly a stash

2011-09-18T20:42:00.000-07:00

I started a skirt project for Lucy. I wanted to coordinate a few colors, so I pulled out my stash.
Such as it is.
Assorted thrifted sheets in 70s prints, mis-matched prints that don't go with anything, very few solids, random discarded clothes, and a pair of old socks.
I know little about sewing, but I know you cannot make a tiered ruffled skirt for a little girl out of old white athletic socks. Well, at least not with my level of skill with textiles.

If I had a little more skill and time to sew, I would plan projects, and order fabrics. But you need know-how and vision to order fabrics. Nothing calls out to me on-line (and in the very limited stores nearby, it's worse).

What does one do to build a stash cheaply? Where do you all shop?

juxtaposed

2011-09-14T20:11:00.000-07:00

Lucy and I have been working our way through Little House on the Prairie. Re-reading it with so much attention (I tend to skip a bunch when I re-read), I'm struck by the ridiculous juxtapositions:
1. Pa builds a bed.
2. Ma does the laundry.
3. The prairie catches on fire and they all almost die.
4. Pa takes off his boots.
5. Someone nearly dies in the well.

After the Indian Massacre, a lesson on doing laundry in the creek!
Or, in our world, a high-speed crash, then let's go to the car detailer.

Ah, Laura. How I wish I was part of your world.

documentation

2011-09-13T20:23:00.000-07:00

Now that we signed up Lucy for a charter school, we will start meeting about monthly with an educational facilitator who checks in on our homeschool progress.
In other words, I show her work samples.
This should not be stressing me out. The woman seems very low-key, Lucy is in kindergarten, and it's not like we need to start bringing in to-scale dioramas of the solar system or anything.
But me being me, I get a little stressed out.

Mostly about math. Because every other subject is pretty clearly covered by what we do at home.

And Lucy has not responded super-well to the math curriculum I've showed her--mostly because writing numbers is still hard for her--even though conceptually, she generally gets it.
And much as I think you can learn some good math from cooking, it sounds like a cop-out. (Yes, she pretty much has covered the standards for kindergarten already. I still need work samples, people!)

But today, she went and learned a little bit of chess at school. (On her first day. She was very nonchalant, as if she'd played tic-tac-toe.) And then we played dominoes. I took a picture of our game, for proof.

Work sample? Check.

a little wolf pack

2011-09-12T19:47:00.001-07:00

Lately, when I've been going around with my girls, out and around, or up and down stairs, I feel like I have a little wolf pack about me, a tribe. A different feeling than me with a small child and a baby in tow. A feeling of being in company, rather than just having my hands full.
It is a lovely feeling.

lessons

2011-09-11T20:57:00.000-07:00

In bed tonight: "Mama, here's how you snuggle. You get close like you are a peanut-butter-sandwich. That's snuggling. And it's when you fall asleep together."

Duly noted. Feeling rather warm and gooey. In a good way.

staying still

2011-09-09T09:19:00.000-07:00

Disneyland trip cancelled: kid with congestion.
So, we stay still all day.
Power goes out? We're home, snug.
Thankful we weren't moving and grooving.

no luck

2011-09-07T21:00:00.000-07:00

Last year, we planned a Disneyland trip to avoid crowds and still have nice weather, and arrived to crowds and rain.
This year, we planned a Disneyland trip to wait until it got cooler, and the heat wave is stifling.

Next time: just go. Don't plan.

Hmmm. Perhaps words to live by?

all of a sudden

2011-09-06T20:27:00.000-07:00

Fall has come, all of a sudden. Yesterday the air changed, rain dropped, and we changed our plans.
I'd like to think it wasn't a drastic change, but I'm feeling a bit changed myself.

We signed Lucy up for a school. A charter school, mind you, one that only meets one or two days a week, but still, a school. I had been advocating for keeping the status quo, but realized that I was really the only one in our house who really wanted that. Well, me, and maybe Julia.

We drove today to drop off Lucy's enrollment papers, and I walked through the school's resource center. Textbooks, and ten copies of the Little House books, and globes, and a little balance I'd seen in a math and science catalog. It was amazing to see the resources I could get, just for the asking. And I'm curious to see how Lucy will respond to having someone else ask her to do exercises in a math book.

I'm eager, awaiting my girl's first day of kindergarten. I'm a little wistful. But I also have this sense that saying yes to this small change might keep the door open to homeschooling longer than if I were to say no.

So we're going to try it. And we're all going to move forward into this changing season, and hope for more rain.

poet-girl

2011-09-05T20:23:00.000-07:00

It rained today. This is unusual here in September, and took us all by surprise. We went east for twenty minutes to attend a barbeque; the smell of the desert of the rain is lovely.
"It's like eating vanilla," said Lucy. "Not the sweet kind, but it's bitter, but it still tastes so good."

Exactly, my girl.

math rant

2011-09-04T22:07:00.000-07:00

I was doing some work the other day and needed to print off the last few pages of a PDF I'd made. So I looked at the page number I was on (35) and the ending page (39), and realized I was getting the wrong answer when I tried to figure out how many pages to print. I think 5+4=9, right? So I'd print 4 pages.
Except I needed to print 5.

This is one of the reasons I want to homeschool. Because I actually did very well in math in school (honors/AP classes, an A in the calculus class I took in college), and I still cannot COUNT and do BASIC ADDITION.
Something very basic about numbers never got lodged in my brain, and I still have this sense that when I use math, I am not walking on firm ground. There are holes in my comprehension, despite the As and the completion of courses, that plauge me. And I never know when I'm going to fall into one.

I would like more than that for my daughters. Despite the math books and my parent's paying attention to which teachers I got, and hiring tutors when I was struggling early on, and my own efforts (taking calculus was not required) I still don't feel like I GET math.

I'd like to figure out how to get my daughters that comprehension, even if they miss the calculus. Because honestly, if they have the number sense, I have a feeling they could figure out the calculus if they needed it.

banner day

2011-09-03T20:17:00.000-07:00

Today: Lucy, reading her first book, on her own. Sounding out the letters and making them into words. Recognizing those words again when they came up. Using context to figure out words without sounding them out.
We are all quite excited.

toy exchange

2011-09-01T21:14:00.000-07:00

From swap box in the garage:
Treasure, newly found: homemade felt board.
Three years old. Used as intended*
for the very, very first time.

Finally: the careful cutting's worth it.

*Other uses for somewhat perfectionistically cut pieces: burrito stuffing, pizza making, random mess. Not a bad thing to have the toy played with not as intended, but had I known they were going to be stuffed in a tortilla, I would not have spent hours carefully crafting them.
Note to self: less effort, more joy.

another side benefit to midwifery

2011-08-31T20:58:00.000-07:00

Going in for a physical and also getting to chat with a lovely mentor-type person. For like an hour.
I've had doctors I knew before, but they never have that much time...

for dinner

2011-08-29T20:38:00.000-07:00

The most summery menu ever:
Pesto pasta with fresh tomatoes, peach and plum cobbler.

Thank you, God.

the sweetest thing

2011-08-29T20:35:00.000-07:00

I wish I could bring you a picture of this, but it's not feasible. So:
Imagine one large bed, with two small girls in it.
And me in-between them, at least for a while.

My smaller girl is big enough to sleep with her sister. Her sister is not quite sure about it, yet, since it is hard to let go of dominion of things. And yet she falls alseep just fine with her sister in it.

And me? I get to put them to bed with one on either side of me, getting severely awesome snuggles.
These are some of the best bedtimes ever.

Night, night, girls.

earthshattering events

2011-08-25T20:34:00.000-07:00

Today: I asked: "Lucy, get ready."
You know what? She did it.
Today, I said, "Please clean up."
Suddenly, she was putting things away.

Do this? "Yes." Can we? "Okay."

Does being FIVE make everything easier?

Blessed girl, happy birthday. Whether you're feeling cooperative or not--you are always my girl. Though I must admit, I'm liking five so far.

you know what I like about babies?

2011-08-24T22:43:00.000-07:00

That you're so used to holding them that their weight is particular to you, the way they fit on your hip or rest their head against their shoulders. The weight that is theirs, but also yours, it is so familiar.
That's what I like.

a whole world full of books part II

2011-08-22T21:24:00.000-07:00

The books, they are all over my floor. All the time. I know, I know, a good problem to have, but still.

I need a logistics company to handle the inventory.

A whole world full of books

2011-08-21T20:24:00.000-07:00

I suggested "Little House in the Big Woods" to Lucy after we went to Old Town. We tried it; she loved it. We finished all but the last chapter (lyrical, but slow) and I saw "Mary Poppins" on the shelf. So we started that.

Just think: there's a whole world full of lovely books we can discover together.

worth it

2011-08-18T20:05:00.000-07:00

Making soup noodles from scratch? Unexpected.
Dried store-bought pasta is simple, sure,
but after tasting hand-made? No return.

tourist trapped

2011-08-17T20:14:00.000-07:00

Today, we went to Old Town. It's a state historical park in San Diego with old-timey houses and lots of Wild West fonts and at least two Wells Fargo stagecoaches. I'd mentioned it as an aside to Lucy as a possible outing. When really, I was thinking it might be better when she was eight, and then only slightly.
Because the truth is, I've been to Old Town before, and have never left impressed.
Old buildings with museums in them with lots of fine print? Dusty streets, with little shade? Many (many) tourist trap restaurants and stores? With a kindergartner and toddler?

No thank you.

But Lucy heard about it and would not let it drop. So it was that we pulled into the (notoriously overfull) parking lot...

and immediately found a space.

Thus began a charmed morning.

The first thing we wandered towards was the blacksmith shop, where a small sign hung out front. "Special event," it said.
What they had were real live blacksmiths who made Lucy a little funny face out of hot iron and then handed it to her to keep. Talked with us for about 15 minutes and showed her how everything worked, their tools, horseshoes, anvils, whatever. We were the only ones there, and Lucy's face was shining.
Then we walked past donkeys, who brayed quite convincingly, through tackle and rein displays, into a schoolteacher "show", in and out of old houses with old toys and clothes in them, saw a chamber pot, walked through the courthouse and appalling jail, and finally, visited a school house, where Lucy sat in a desk and saw a slate.
We ate some extremely touristy mediocre Mexican food (the only disappointment), then went home.

She had been fingering her blacksmith memento and talking about it ever since.

That was just about the coolest historical park I've ever been to.
Sorry for doubting you, Old Town. Trapped isn't quite right. Captured is better.

first aid

2011-08-16T20:35:00.000-07:00

Someone in our house has a little obsession with band-aids.

Scene 1:
Julia: Na-na. Na-na. Na-naaaaaaaaaa! (No, she's not asking for a banana. Sometimes it takes me a while to figure that out).

I give her a band-aid. She tears it open, peels off the sticky tabs, plasters it on her skin. Her eyes glaze over with bliss.

Then she takes it off and throws it in the trash.

Immediately:
Julia: Na-na. Na-na. Na-naaaaaaaaaa!

Scene 2:
Actual injury sustained: a tiny, heart-breaking blister on the pinky toe.
Julia: Na-na! Na-na! (Points to knee).
Heather: You want a band-aid for your toe?
Julia: No!! (Points, more deliberately, to knee.)
Heather: You want a band-aid for your knee?
Julia nods, happy.
I get the band-aid. She grabs it, opens it, and sticks it to her forehead.

Scene 3:
Ointment applied to the bandaging area provides extra relief from symptoms. Ointment is also known as "cream".

Julia: (Still sporting blister) Na-na! Keem! Na-na! Keem!
Heather: (Fetching items). You want them on your toe?
Julia: (Pointing to cream) Mine?
Heather: You need the cream? (Unscrews jar lid. Thankfully, the jar is nearly empty).
Julia: (Sticks finger in. Looks at it with pure joy, then lifts up her shirt.) Belly. (Rubs it in).
Heather: Do you still want this band-aid?
Julia (Nods, grabs. Sticks it to her forehead.)

Bliss.

oh, bath

2011-08-15T19:43:00.001-07:00

Oh, bath, you are calling me
I'm coming. Just as soon as the childrens are quiet.

note to Julia

2011-08-14T19:17:00.001-07:00

Waking up at still-dark does only one thing for me:
Helps me catch up on bad reality television.

Please, little one, just sleep in already.

sissy ja-ja's

2011-08-11T20:34:00.000-07:00

Sister's pajamas catch magic in seams;
clearly, Julia can wear nothing else.
Try: sneaking off shirts when eating.
Try: leaving off pants when diapering.
Try: putting anything else on.
No.
Error, error, error, error, error, error.

Try: buying new pajamas; matching pairs.
Sister pajamas in two different sizes.
Also: matching flowered dresses and tights.

Yes. Yes yes yes yes yes.

listen

2011-08-10T19:58:00.001-07:00

Here's something I'm thankful for, Julia:
You aren't quite two. So sometimes, you lose it. You just do--your face is red, you scream, and a thin, glistening string of saliva drips down your chin. Your eyes say: ANGRY! Your eyes say: NO!
Your eyes say: I WON'T!
Then, just then, I say, "Can I talk to you?" I say, "Can you be quiet for a minute, sweetie?"
And you do. You try. You listen, just for a minute. A lot of times, I can help you understand, and things are not so bad.
Thank you dear one, for trusting me to tell you something worth being quiet for.

too much of a good thing

2011-08-09T20:06:00.000-07:00

We live within walking distance of a lot of things. So we walk. Not every day, but often enough. Except I've realized that I throw in the long walks on days that we've alredy had enough walking, thank you very much, and then we go out to run a quick errand, too, and by the girls' bedtime, I am ready for bed too.
I need a Segway.

creative

2011-08-08T19:53:00.000-07:00

I don't just start one project. No. When I start one, I think, "Oh, I'm doing so well! I could also start x!"
That goes decently too, so I add Y.
Z looks pretty good too.
Then I give up.

The end.

magic time

2011-08-07T20:23:00.000-07:00

We read books today. Also, we got take-and-bake pizza and watched The Great Muppet Caper. And got to watch our daughter hop up and down as the Muppets catch the jewel thieves red handed.

Sometimes, it seems like we shouldn't be allowed to have so much fun.

speak up, please. Actually, don't.

2011-08-04T21:05:00.000-07:00

Baby says WAAAAAAA. Lucy says, "Mama?
I have a question. (About everything)."

Always, they speak at once. Loudly.

going back for more

2011-08-03T20:26:00.000-07:00

Today Julia was dancing on the bed with her sister and Dyami. She fell forward and hit her head pretty hard on the corner of the dresser. Screaming ensued.
Dyami brought her downstairs to me, and I held her. For about ten seconds. Then she pulled away. Still crying, she said, "Dance! Dance!"
She's a maniac (maniac) that's for sure.

golden, then black

2011-08-02T21:51:00.000-07:00

Lucy came home from camp, and we played for nearly thirty minutes. Games she learned in camp, then games made up, inspired by the camp ones. Wax works and body moving and freezing and balance and trickery. We laughed. We reconnected. It was golden.

Then I realized it was also very quiet.

To the kitchen! Where Julia was discovered with a Sharpie and some (very dry) drawings on our lovely dining table that Dyami refinished.

I was very, very bummed. I scrubbed with rubbing alcohol and then baking soda. I made the marks--and also the finish--more dim. But I did not remove either completely.

Now, writing it, I realize something: sad as I am that the table is marked, it will always remind me of my husband's hard work, and also both of my daughters. Vividly.

Those golden minutes of play. So precious. So (really) worth it.

chow hound

2011-07-28T21:02:00.000-07:00

Julia: is my shoulder sweet, dear?
Then please stop biting it. Thanks.

Goooooooool!

2011-07-27T20:23:00.000-07:00

There's really no better cheering section for a father's soccer game than a four-year-old and a (very loud) toddler.
We were so loud we distracted the ref.

Well, they won, so it worked.

thank you, bathtub

2011-07-26T20:11:00.000-07:00

I'm sick and headachy, and we had no plans today, and I was running out of ideas. SO I filled the tub with water and containers, and sat and read while the girls played.
It was a very painless hour, and everyone was happy.
Thank you bathtub. You really came through for me today.

just get up

2011-07-25T19:35:00.000-07:00

I woke up at about 5:30 am today to go use the bathroom and because of the early morning light. Then I fell back asleep for 10 minutes or so until Julia woke me.
I felt fine at 5:30, but those extra ten minutes put me right into some crazy sleep cycle. I was groggy and out of it until the afternoon.
Next time, Heather, the extra ten minutes of sleep WILL NOT HELP YOU. Just get up already.

plane shakedown

2011-07-24T20:18:00.000-07:00

So flying back from Michigan a few days ago, I succumbed.
I'd packed little new toys and activities for Julia, but the truth was, I was exhausted, and even the energy entertaining her or reading to her for the ride home seemed like too much.
But we got on the flight, and voila! Individual entertainment centers.

I scanned the menu, and saw it: Little Einsteins episodes, $1 each.

$1 was not to much to pay for thirty minutes (or ten even) of quiet.

I inserted my credit card in the slot ,and sat back, and got out my headphones, and...

Did not get even one minute of relaxation.

What was I thinking? Earbuds for a toddler? Of course she was putting them in her mouth after thirty seconds. The screen couldn't hold her attention if the headphones were out, and couldn't hold her attention without sound, either. She really wanted to press buttons, and not watch the screen, and after a minute fighting her, I realized:
I'd been had. By my own desire to check out.

I put away the earbuds and my expectations of hands-free parenting. I got out the first of the little baggies of fun, and I interacted. And of course it was a lot less taxing than I'd made it out to be. Two hours passed (relatively) quickly, and she finally nodded off to sleep with hardly a protest ("Apple!" She said. "Apple. Apple. apple...app--")

And then I wondered why we all believe that a credit card and a video will solve all of our problems.

loving it

2011-07-22T13:58:00.000-07:00

After jet lag, a morning nap.

oh, dear children

2011-07-21T19:28:00.000-07:00

When you are jet-lagged and beyond tired the day after the crazy plane flight, and are rude, and impossible to control, and you refuse even hugs and sympathy, and you melt down because of everything, then we are very sorry, but it is time to go to bed.
Also, it's time for us to go to bed too.
Hopefully we will all feel better tomorrow.

better than fireworks:

2011-07-18T18:47:00.000-07:00

when the sky goes dark in fifteen minutes, the wind picks up and blows waves over the lake, and the trees start dancing . The humid air blows away like fog and the fresh air blows in.
The rain starts.
Every so often, the lightening flashes in the darkened sky and you can watch the wind blow it in waves over the waves of the water.
And then, ten minutes later, the lake is glass.

stillness

2011-07-14T19:28:00.000-07:00

Was on the plane yesterday for four hours, sitting next to an older lady--probably in her seventies. She didn't have a book, or an iPad, or watch the movie. She was friendly, but quiet, and just sat. For four hours.
It makes me a little sad that this was remarkable. It feels like it's a rare person that feels calm and still enough in our society to sit still and alone like that for that long. I know I couldn't.

carrier

2011-07-12T21:35:00.000-07:00

It's been a while since I've put Julia in our Ergo. Mostly because she hated it--cried any time I picked it up--so I gave it to a friend who has a 10-month old.
But we needed it this week, so I borrowed it back, gritting my teeth at her reaction.

I needn't have worried. She saw the darn thing, lit up, and immediately wanted to be carried in it.

Ah, novelty. A parent's best friend.

preferences

2011-07-11T20:20:00.000-07:00

Newborn preferences: I would like to be held, thank you. And nurse. and sleep.
Baby preferences: Same as above, please. Plus, I'd like to look around and smile.
Crawler preferences: I want to see that! And that! And that!
Walker preferences: I want to walk. NOW.
Toddler preferences. I want to get everyplace I couldn't before. Where do you keep your knives? ALso, I want that shirt on. No, actually, that other shirt. No, the first one. No, both of them. I also want water. No, tea. No, milk. Get me a snack! I'm hot! Get this shirt off of me. No I want it on. I'm done with this diaper! Could you put it on my baby? I want to help! I want to be done! I want to start over! I want the music on! I want it off. I want to dance. I want to lay down. Get me a snack! I want to sleep! No, I'm awake now. Get me a new shirt.
Now I want to be naked! No more shirts, ever.
Except that one right there, that I just had on. Could I have it back, please?
Now, about the knives?

nothing much

2011-07-10T19:54:00.000-07:00

You know the favorite moment of the day? Lucy lying on the couch, me snuggling up next to her, then her giving me gigantic hugs and kisses. And then Julia joining us, and inspiring a tickle fight.
I love how the small moments are the best ones. The ones I will probably remember till my girls have their own kids.

looking at the globe with Lucy

2011-07-07T20:09:00.000-07:00

Blue crooked line, wending through desert,
Tight state lines, heedless of mountains,
Ridiculous lines fixing ebbing seashore,
Drawn on maps, stilling ocean's movement
Magic lines, drawing us into our world.

tipping point

2011-07-06T20:28:00.000-07:00

Today was a tipping point, from having a baby and a kid, to having to kids, both able to be involved in the same activity (cookies/playdough) at the same time.

A not-stressful, yet project-filled day.

And also a day to say goodbye to those other days, that were fresh, and raw, and tender, with newness and needs to be met.

poetry

2011-07-05T20:33:00.000-07:00

I didn't really grow up reading poetry, and I got through nearly all of an English degree without reading much of the stuff. Not intentionally, though I think my lack of familiarity didn't make me jump at the chance to study it.
And then, in my grad studies, I took a bunch of poetry classes, and wrote poetry, and even got some pieces published.
And then I had baby and misplaced my brain somewhere.

However, Lucy and I have been reading poetry together. Children's poetry, which is about my speed these days, but also good children's poetry. Discovering it through her eyes is helping me rediscover it on my own, those little distilled looks at the world, with their incantations, their rhythm and tricks making the language dance on the page, the jokes and riddles buried in the letters themselves.

Ah, childcare. An education. Really.

notes on catching (and releasing) fish

2011-07-04T20:07:00.000-07:00

Those fish, they are wily. They do know that behind the bait lies a hook .They must, because 99 out of 100 times, the bait is gone, with nary a bite.
Also, when you do catch them, they go all sideways when you reel them in.
They lie still in your hand as you unhook them. So still you're sure they're dead.
And then, splash, they swim away upright, as if they'd never left the water.

Is there a life lesson in there someplace?

here we go

2011-07-03T19:55:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, Julia decided she didn't need a nap, thankyouverymuch.

Now, as I'm trying to figure out what to post, I realize it's thirty-six hours later and I still have not recovered from the mental shock.

Note to self: The toddler, she has arrived.

existential conversations with a toddler

2011-06-30T20:18:00.000-07:00

Scene: Julia and I, looking in a mirror.

Julia, pointing up at me: Mama!
Me, pointing at her: Julia!
Julia, pointing at herself in mirror: Baby!
Me: Is that the baby?
Julia: nods, laughs.
Me: Are you the baby?
Julia: Nods, laughs.
Me (thinking): Well, not actually. The reflection is an image of you, but not your actual self. Can you understand that, little one, the otherness of the image that is also, well, you?
Julia, pointing at my reflection: Mama!
Me (thinking): Note to self: less caffeine in the morning.

thank you, car

2011-06-29T20:49:00.000-07:00

It took a while for my brain to make the connection, but the light went off last night:
Children in the car=captive audience, hungry for any kind of entertainment.
Into the CD player went the audio book of poetry Lucy has consistently rejected.
"Mama, I love these stories!" she said.
"Poems, sweetheart. And I'm so glad."

haven't seen that one on a crayola yet

2011-06-28T20:29:00.000-07:00

Lucy: "You know what my favorite color is? Blue with sequins."

the nuclear option

2011-06-27T19:22:00.000-07:00

Upon me coming up the stairs:
Dyami: Lucy is pretending to be a clown. And if the children don't cooperate with her, she blows up the whole world.
Lucy: Ready? Three, two, one. (Explosion. Well, a box full of Monopoly money flung into the air).
Dyami: Her name is Toodles the Silly Clown.
Me: (Peeing my pants.)

context

2011-06-26T20:51:00.000-07:00

Lucy seems so BIG to me usually; so articulate and capable. And then, we see her surrounded by kids a few years older than her at church, in the celebration for VBS, and I realize: she's just tiny, still. Still just a small person, and so many stages to look forward to.
And then I watch her small shoulders underneath the gigantic camp T-shirt she was wearing, and watch her do hand motions to the songs this morning, and I enjoy the smallness of now.

better than that magic lamp

2011-06-23T20:15:00.000-07:00

If wishes = peaches, who'd need wishes?

capture the flag=injure the groin

2011-06-22T20:16:00.000-07:00

Notes on camp counseling:
1. Perhaps one should train for it, rather like for a triathlon. Then when you volunteer for capture the flag, you can not injure yourself, or feel like dying afterwards.
2. It is gratifying to play capture the flag against fourth grade boys. Because in fourth grade, they were scary, and you could never have captured the flag. And now that you're twice their size and (even if out of shape) faster than them, you actually have a fighting chance.
3. It's also kind of fun to accidentally take down a group of said boys (not exactly a tackle, more like running into several of them, like dominoes). And I, personally, never would have as a fourth grader, and now I can without worrying about dying or getting injured. (And not injuring them either).
4. One game of capture the flag is enough.

she didn't learn this from me

2011-06-21T20:15:00.001-07:00

Lucy: "Everyone, welcome to the baby sale! Get your babies here, in a cage! One dollar! You have to buy the cage here!"

exercise

2011-06-20T20:38:00.000-07:00

Before I had kids, I volunteered once with our church's VBS.
Let's just say it wasn't the biggest success. I mean, no one died, but I think after I finished each day, I felt like taking a three-hour nap, and by the end of the week, I was wondering how I'd ever have kids.

So now that I do have kids, and they are attending the camp (or at least my older one is), I vacillated between two poles: the feelings of guilt and obligation to do my part, and the fervent desire to still be alive at the end of the week.

I decided to volunteer.

So I was a little nervous this morning, the first day of camp. And then I did my job (a different one, this year, one that was a better fit), and I actually had fun. And I am tired at the end of the day, but considering how much energy I put out all morning, I'm doing pretty well.

Here's the thing: I am a lot more used to kids now. Apparently, this childcare thing is like exercise, and you can actually get more stamina.

Who knew?

Now I have to plan a crazy hairstyle for tomorrow to amuse my kids, and go to bed early, to make sure tomorrow is as high-energy as today.

the little graveyard

2011-06-19T19:37:00.000-07:00

So our ant farm has (mostly) been a success. For us.
For the ants, not exactly*.

Apparently when the ants die, their sisters drag their body parts over to a little pile at the edge of town and leave them there. Along with yesterday's lunch and other debris.

Lucy's quite matter-of-fact about it all. "Look, Mama! That ant died, and the other one is carrying its head over there!"

Not sure what lesson we're teaching here, but we're definitely teaching it. Right now.

*I think the normal life span of a worker ant is only a few months, so it's hard to tell if our care has hastened the demise. They always had food, and water, but I think I moistened the sand just a little too much at the beginning, and it's seeming a little funky in there. But then again, don't ants like moldy things? Hmmmm.
Perhaps I feel less than optimistic about the goldfish we're supposed to buy tomorrow...

if your child asks for an egg, will you give him a snake?

2011-06-16T20:20:00.001-07:00

I grabbed a fresh, ripe peach from our fruit bowl and held it up for Julia to see. "Do you want a peach, Julia?"
She shook her head. "On-yon,*" she said.

No wonder her grandfather calls her a spicy meatball.

*Just to be sure, I asked again. "Onion?" I said. She nodded. "On-yon."
This is a girl who asked for chili oil, tasted some, coughed as if we'd just had her sample a cigarette, and then signed, "More!"

not a good sign

2011-06-15T20:22:00.000-07:00

Today, Julia woke up at 5:30 (again) and Lucy was tired all morning, and I was tired, and Julia was tired, and we were all cranky and yelling for no particular reason, and short on patience.

Dyami and I had to get something notarized, so we walked to the notary with the girls. We got there and I had forgotten my ID. So we walked back, got the ID, and drove there.

Then I had to sign my name. My full name, middle and all. As the guy told me while I was writing.

This shouldn't have been tricky.

But you'd be wrong! Because I forgot the middle name.

"It's okay," he said. "Just sign again below, and initial it."

I tried that too, but left out two letters from my last name. Then I wrote HCC, instead of HLC.

I decided it was good enough, because I wasn't going to sign a third time and initial my initials.

Then I went home and waited expectantly for naptime. Which thankfully, doesn't require signatures.

of course

2011-06-13T20:30:00.000-07:00

Something about the husband being gone from breakfast past dinner immediately introduces the day-long, low-grade headache. The kind you get from variations in hormone levels or barometric pressure.
My body's way of telling me how much I love my husband?
Oh, sweetheart, let me count the ways (you make me take Tylenol...)

mouths are useful

2011-06-13T10:22:00.000-07:00

I had some dental work done late last week. I'm amazed at how useful my mouth is, and how little I think about it. Chewing, spitting, swallowing, sucking at straws, flossing, drinking hot things, self-cleaning mechanisms; all of these things are interrupted by these (not very severe) injuries I've sustained.
However: I did need to eat more ice cream to heal. So there was that.

the beginning of the end

2011-06-08T19:56:00.000-07:00

Today and yesterday, Julia's naps were teenie weensie. Too small to count, really. I'm remembering that Lucy was close to this age when she started skipping naps. I'm also remembering how much someone whined and cried when those naps started stopping. Plus Lucy was fussy too.

Sigh. Early bedtime, methinks.

good thing it was free...

2011-06-07T20:04:00.001-07:00

We visited the Natural History museum today. It was the free Tuesday for the month. Lucy wanted to go. She wanted to go today. And I thought: will it be worth it, when it's swarming with people?

Hard to say. We stayed maybe an hour, and hardly looked at anything. After all, it was swarming with people.

However, with a toddler there, we likely could not have devoted tons of time to the exhibits after all. So I felt thankful to not have plunked down $20+ bucks for the pleasure.

Also, because it was not so fun, we went down the row of museums to the Model Railroad museum. Which I've wanted to visit with her, but haven't, because I'm not going to drive that long just to go see model trains (that I don't know if Lucy will _love_), and we're usually exhausted after the dinosaur exhibits.

But it was free too, so we saw it, and we got to walk around the park, and enjoy a display of birds, and just feel lucky to enjoy a free day at museums, and sun, and excitement.

All worth the price of admission, I think. And the swarms of people.

loss

2011-06-06T19:43:00.000-07:00

My hard drive died about a week ago. Luckily, my husband works with computers, so he was able to install a new one.
One problem: our pictures and videos of the girls weren't backed up. Thankfully, older ones were (but there's about a year's gap). And also thankfully: I had just made a photo book of the last year's pictures, so though we don't have digital copies, we do have printed ones.
But the videos. Oh, the videos.

I keep trying not to feel sick to my stomach about the loss. I keep not quite succeeding.

And yet, it's made me realize: all of this time, all of this unique nowness of our girls--there's no real way to capture it. Even the videos we have of Lucy of her first words, steps, laughter don't bring back the little girl of them. They only remind us of what was, but in hindsight, I can't really remember what they were like. I can't keep the video going in my mind once it's over. I have lost those moments.
Now there are just a few more lost.

So here's a list of the doubly-lost moments. Just so they aren't completely gone:
Julia roaring like a lion.
Julia "reading" books to herself, in her baby talk.
Lucy and Julia taking turns on Dadda's shoulders, marching through the house, with Julia screeching with delight.
Dancing. So much dancing. Plus a recap of another (possibly) lost video, to the Killers "Human".
Greeting our Ojai cat and saying "Meow meow."
First food. Whatever that was.
Funny nudie toddler walking.
Lucy's fourth birthday: the endless (and fruitless) bashing of the pinata.

bedtime redux

2011-06-05T20:16:00.001-07:00

Bedtime has been better. Better better better.

Notes to self for bedtime:

One parent for bedtime routine for both girls. The other one gets a break (bonus) and the "on" parent seems to be more able to create an experience (read: pretend games) and less likely to overwhelm the child with barked orders that were just barked by the other parent.
Pretend games. Pretend games. Pretend games. The child will bite and play along. Just suggest a pretend game, and go with it.
When they start ignoring, disobeying, going deliberately slow, keep voice happy and see if ignoring the misbehavior for a minute will solve the problem. Often it will and you can go to the next step. And happy moderately cooperative child is much faster than unhappy uncooperative child.
Happy bedtime=worth it. Today we discovered shadow puppets and I got kisses under the covers when I sang the lullabye with the help of a penlight. Nothing like little-girl kisses in the twilight.

So: bedtime is better.*
Any other bedtime tricks for the less-than-patient parent?

*At least for this week.

Yes, it was a long morning.

2011-06-03T09:49:00.000-07:00

Why yes, that is black tea. In the tub. With baby footprints in it.
Why do you ask?

just a spoonful of sugar

2011-06-01T20:13:00.000-07:00

Oh, bedtime. Bedtime, bedtime, bedtime.
Not the best time of the day over here. Lately, it's been like pulling teeth to get Lucy to bed. She fights it, she is rude, she has a bad attitude, and the parents aren't much better.

Today, she was stomping up the stairs in a huff when I insisted it was time to do so, and I decided to try ignoring her bad mood. I decided to distract her, instead.

I suggested using her new flashlight to find her pajamas. Which delighted her. She found the pj's. She found her toothbrush. She found her stories and did it all in record time. We told her story under the blanket, we giggled and snuggled. We both had great fun.

Sometimes, the problem isn't her. Sometimes, the problem is me. Well, not me, but the end-of-day blah-ness that makes it hard to think of anything besides what I'm going to do after the children are still and quiet for the first time that day. It's hard to be creative at bedtime.

Hard. And so, so worth it.

not a deal

2011-05-31T20:43:00.001-07:00

I subscribe to various frugal/deal/we're saving you money.

They often do. Save me money, that is.

Sometimes, however, they do not. They really do not.

It all comes in reading the fine print. Or not even the fine print; the print that is smaller than the headline of the deal: "$50 dollars of groceries for $25!"
In this case, the fine print was: shipping flat rate of $5.99 for 5 pounds.

On first read, this sounded pretty good. For the things I buy online, 5 pounds is plenty. But for groceries? When the item that seduced you into the deal was that case of almond milk?

'Twill not be less than five pounds, I daresay.

Which I discovered after securing the deal, browsing the site, and realizing that
a) nothing I really needed was light, and
b) the things that were light, I didn't really need.
c) If I factored in shipping on what I had intended to purchase ($33 for shipping!!!) the cartons were definitely, definitely cheaper at Trader Joe's, where I usually buy them. And I wouldn't have to fill up my garage with a case.

I bought a few toiletries that will get used, though they are not in huge demand right now, and decided that I will henceforth read everything twice. And then wait an hour. And still maybe another hour, before clicking, "Count Me In!"

signs of life

2011-05-30T20:31:00.000-07:00

Today we planted some seeds in pots and watered them. A few weeks ago we got an ant farm. Now, we're talking about a goldfish.

It seems that life is a little relentless with children. That newness, that discovery, that growing messiness pokes its head up through the established patterns of adulthood. So that pets, and dirt and growing things get in all of the tiniest places. And take over.

appliance shopping

2011-05-30T20:13:00.000-07:00

At Best Buy:

Julia, walking over to the first in a long line of refrigerators: "Food-food?" I open. She moves to the next one. "Food-food?" Repeat. Again. Etc. They have a lot of fridges in Best Buy. All of them empty.

Upon seeing a Hello Kitty toaster Lucy said, "But Mama, I need a Hello Kitty face on all all my toast."*

And another appliance we will not be purchasing for our kids: A beer keg. But Lucy wants that too. Thankfully, that did not have Hello Kitty on it."

*Yes, ON the toast. Seared. Also available: Your favorite baseball team logo, and who knows what else. Perhaps we need the Caliri family crest.

idyll

2011-05-26T20:31:00.001-07:00

Today, my girls and I walked around our neighborhood scoping flowers to pick*, all of us in spring skirts, ribbons in the sisters' hair, a basket with a checked cloth in it.
It was all springy and idyllic, and I felt kind of embarrassed, because it made me look a little Stepford.
Then Julia started screaming, and laying down in the dirt and rolling around, and I felt a little better.

*Does anyone else feel really weird about picking other peoples' flowers? It's one thing if you're a kid and you do it, but to be the adult, egging them on, is that weird? Because I feel both weird and awful, like I'm encouraging graffiti. And then I feel very Type A for feeling weird.
I feel better getting that off of my chest. But still a little weird.

toddler brain

2011-05-25T20:34:00.000-07:00

(Inside Julia's head)
No! I want the bag of banana chips. You know what I want. Don't try to give me chips in a Tupperware. It's NOT the same thing.
Now you're insulting me. A sandwich baggie? It's not called a banana chip baggie. It's called a sandwich baggie. Bag! Now!

Blueberries, you say?

I love you mama. And blueberries. Both. Best mama, best blueberries. Mmmm.

Wait, Look what I just found! A sandwich baggie full of banana chips! Perfect accompaniment to these berries. Mmmmmm.

help

2011-05-24T19:50:00.000-07:00

I did it.
I called a housekeeper.

I resisted for a long time. There have been times help just wasn't in the budget, but we're feeling blessed enough to have some funds for now.

But really, I just resisted the idea. Resisted having someone in my space. Resisted the idea that I couldn't keep up with stuff myself. Resisted.

And now, what has changed? Well, two children, plus more homeschooling work from one, plus increased ornerieness from the other, and then a work project on top of it. And reading a few essays on how accepting help helps keep us moms sane.

Also, my floor hasn't been vacuumed in weeks. And not because it doesn't need it.

When I started asking my husband for a birthday gift of an hour so I could vacuum, I decided it was time. Time to give myself the gift of someone who actually has the time and patience and the renumeration to give my house the attention it deserves. Time to stop stressing about not being able to clean the toilets, again. Time to be able to see through our windows.

She can't start for a few weeks, and suddenly I CAN'T WAIT.

Help.

the horror

2011-05-23T20:39:00.000-07:00

It's a peaceful day in the house; girls playing peacefully, birdies chirping outside. Mother does a quick pick-up while everyone's occupied. She picks up stray bits of paper, a stray sock, a puppet, a lego, another stray sock, a crayon.

She pauses, looks back.

(Cue creepy, scratchy music)

The sock. That white little girl sock she just picked up. How did it get back on the floor?

******

It's bedtime. Everyone carefully takes off their clothes, shoes socks, and dons footed pajamas. They put all the clothes into the laundry bin, and crawl into bed. Except--wait.

(Cue creepy, scratchy music)

The socks. They've reappeared. Somehow.

Everyone looks at each other nervously.

********

Putting the laundry into the wash, Mom scans the floor for strays, adds detergent, then closes and starts the machine.

(Panicky violins)

The tiny little girl sock! There's one on the floor. Wait. Is it--smiling? Laughing maniacally? Mom screams and slams the door to the house.

*********

Girls asleep, Mom and Dad get ready for bed. They brush teeth, turn off lights, then fold back the sheets.

One small girl sock lies still at the center of the bed. So peaceful, so white, so ribbed. Then, without warning, it strikes.

(Blackout)

oh, dear

2011-05-22T20:51:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, some kind of switch was flipped in Julia. When she didn't get her way, she screamed, "NO!!!" and stamped her feet, multiple times.

Ahem.

I knew that was coming, but it always takes one by surprise, no?

secrets of homeschool autopilot

2011-05-18T20:15:00.001-07:00

Buy lots of different kinds of paper. Long strips, tracing, graph. Place them on a table. Kick your feet up and read all day.

school supplies

2011-05-17T20:19:00.000-07:00

We started setting up our kindergarten today. We have some snazzy workbooks coming in the mail. Also, we bought beginning-writer-friendly lined paper, and some big paper strips with lines, and chunky pencils, and tracing paper, and a set of drawers to store them all in.

Lucy told all of the store clerks she was starting kindergarten. She sat down at her desk when she got home. She drew pictures on tracing paper, and it was hard to convince her to come eat.

I'm loving this.

Also, I'm very confused. What exactly did I say differently that has created such enthusiasm? Is it something in the water?

I shall ride this wave as long as it lasts.

kindergarten...redux

2011-05-16T20:15:00.001-07:00

"Mama, I want to go to kindergarten," Lucy said today, on the way home from the park. We were walking leisurely through our neighborhood under sunny skies, after having just played in the sandbox, bounced on the teeter totter, and slid down windy slides.
I paused. We have had this conversation before. "What exactly are you hoping to do at kindergarten?"
"Well, learn to read and write. And have recess. That's when I'd get to play with my friends."
If satisfying her need for kindergarten was so easy, I'd jump for joy. "If we sat down in the morning with some writing books, and learned to read and write, then you went outside for recess afterwards, could we do kindergarten at home?"
"Yeah! And could I have a desk? With a drawer for pencils? Or maybe Dada could make me one?"
"Sure!" Please, let Ikea have one.

I'm hoping her need for school is satisfied with these techniques. It could work. If it doesn't, I've been looking into local charter schools for a hybrid program. I'm not thrilled about doing a charter (someone looking over my shoulder, "work" I have to supervise and hand in on someone else's schedule, up to four days of my daughters not being together the whole day, and standards tests that I don't really see the value of, not to mention some of the issues with letting the state coopt homeschooling) but I'd rather do that, I think, then a full-day public school with less room for homeschooling. I'm hoping if we do enroll her someplace, it will be a positive experience, that she will be motivated to let me guide her because that's part of the bargain of being in the school, and that listening to her and honoring her desire for more structure will build trust and maybe lead to more homeschooling in the future.

But. We will see.

crowned...

2011-05-15T21:25:00.000-07:00

one artistic aunt
+ three big poster-sized paint samples
+ glitter glue and markers
-------------------------------

lurching towards wisdom

2011-05-13T10:31:00.000-07:00

Perhaps wisdom comes when I think:
"I can't do that for her."
"It's not my place to fix."
"Let me stay silent right now."
"I bet they'll solve it themselves."
and "They are capable. They are."

Instead of fixing, I'm just...waiting.

post mother's day

2011-05-09T20:23:00.000-07:00

My lovely husband and daughter got me a fab dress for Mother's day. A summerish dress, with pockets for easy use in the park. Today, I proudly wore it for its first trip.
But instead of cooperating, the weather decided to sprinkle on us. Sprinkle!! In Southern California!! In May!!
I feel betrayed*.

*Not really. But I wish the weather had cooperated. Plus, I'm a little brain-dead after an early morning.