I made your coffee when I was a teenaged barrista, I waited on you in my twenties at the four-star café where I used to work. Ran into you at the market yesterday, finally learned your name.
January 2008 Archives
Oh you and your completely cryptic handwriting. I practiced and practiced until I could write like that too, until I could read your notes. But I could still never figure out whether or not you liked me.
If you could see or hear or read, I guess, my inner thoughts, you'd probably roll your eyes at my habit of thinking in analogies. Sometimes, though, there's no better way to describe something save comparing it to something sort of like it. (Uh. That's an analogy, isn't it? A simile? Not a metaphor. . . )
Whatever.
Tonight all four kids got into bed with me so that we could read a couple of story books. Nate and Sophie sat at the foot of the bed, divvying up the reading page by page. He helped her when she got stuck, and he even did it nicely. Nicely enough that she didn't get frustrated and angry. I was at the other end of the bed, Lex tucked under my right arm, big as me; Willow snuggling up next to me under my left arm. Lex played with Willow's hair and held his palm up to mine, delighted to find that he's almost there. Nate patted Sophie's shoulder as she read big words. She kissed him on the cheek and said thank you.
Halfway through Sophie's Masterpiece, I interrupted to tell the kids that these were the very moments that I live for. This is it, I said, it's this stuff that makes all the hard work and bad times okay. I love spending time with you when we all get along and just enjoy each other's company.
They love it, too. Most of our time together is filled with barking and whining and negotiating. It's something that disturbs and depresses me. Tonight was nice. More than nice. It was perfect. It's like it took the sort of blurry photo of what I love about motherhood and brought it into super-sharp focus. There wasn't any doubt that this was it. It was quiet and simple and unnoticed by the whole entire world, save for my whole entire world.
Maybe it's not analogies I think in. Maybe it's sap.
Like any love-struck being, I totally don't care what anyone thinks of the way I profess my love.
The kids all decided that they want to get up early tomorrow and do yoga with me. I've been getting up 90 minutes before they do during the week to fit in 45 minutes of yoga, a shower, and a few minutes alone with my computer before starting the forced march to school. After we all said our goodnights, the boys went to their room and I snuggled the girls to sleep. I snuck away, out to the living room to make one last email check and on the floor I saw a yoga mat, all rolled out and ready to go. I love my kids so much that it feels like my heart is outside my body, one chamber attached to each kid.
Yeah. That's definitely sap.
(back after a SHAMEFUL hiatus)
The one photo I have of you is from seventh grade. Standing by your locker. Smiling. Funny glasses. Years later I drove you to work early one
morning. I can still see that sunrise,
hear the radio.
This morning I drove Willow to preschool and we she talked about stuff she's been learning at school. Mama! she said, Did'ja know? Mars. . . Mars, Mama, it's a planet? And, Mars HAS NO BRAIN! It takes nine whole days to get there, too. And, Pluto? Pluto is SO. COLD. It's, like, a hundred fifty cold. Totally cold. It takes, six DAYS to get there. AND, my teacher? She held up a bucket of water? And she said, it comes from the ocean. MAMA! The water from the paucet? It comes from the ocean and after it goes down the drain, it goes back to the ocean and then back to the paucet where I can drink it.
Mama, how does rain get to the sky? she then asked, looking out her window.
Well, I told her, water from ponds and lakes and oceans rises up to the sky, a tiny bit at a time. So small you can't see it. That moisture, that water, then makes clouds. When the clouds get too heavy with water, the water falls back down and that's rain.
That sounds about right, Mom, she said.
Check out Lex's awesome bedhead.
you spin me round
Originally uploaded by jenijen
Last time we went to the park, the girls brought a huge backpack of stuffed animals. They're so funny.
I just finished reading the *best* book. Water For Elephants. I think I might just read it again before I go on to something else. It took me most of the week to get half way through it, but tonight both John and Willow were asleep by 9, so I sat up in the bottom bunk of the girls' bed (the three big kids are at their dad's) and read until I finished. How novel. (sorry. couldn't help it)
Today the air both smelled and felt (temperature-wise) just the right way to hurl me back in time twenty years. I was walking across a parking lot, when suddenly I was kind of spun and expecting to see my old high school around me when I looked up. Just for a fraction of a second. The moment was so fast that the full memory that was being teased didn't surface. I had that feeling like when you've woken from a complex dream: one minute it's all there and you don't think it'll ever slip away, but the next you've no idea what it was about. Before it's entirely gone, you might get a little whisp of something, but focusing on it only makes it evaporate.
This morning I remembered that Sophie was supposed to go to school in her class t-shirt. Really I remembered last night, and so I got it from the closet and hooked the hanger onto her dresser handle so we wouldn't forget in our jumbled morning rush. She went to school in her class shirt, a pair of pants, a skirt over that, and a ponytail with blue and green colored-hairspray streaks. As I was getting her dressed, I was thinking about how glad I was to remember the shirt. It's like all the things I'm supposed to keep up with -- when to bring back the library books, what day to take snack, permission slips, mismatched sock day, bring an apple for the apple doll project, and on and on and on -- are tests of my competence. Whenever I remember to send the kids to school with what they're supposed to have, I feel like I'm passing some kind of test.
Hmm. I just took an internet detour and signed up on my high school alumni webpage. This ought to be interesting. . .
Last night while Sophie and Willow took a bath, I sat on the counter drinking one of these and sewing one of these. Mama, Sophie said. Today at school, I learned about Britney Spears!
Really? From your friends? What did you learn?
No! My teacher!
my brain=?????????????
Oh. Well, what did she tell you? Exactly?
She told us how one time after work Britney was riding on a bus. Some people wanted her to move to the back, but she said (here Sophie gets a Very Serious expression on her face and slowly shakes her head no) "No. I worked hard all day and I am very tired. I will not move."
I said, huh, I think you mean Rosa Parks? but Sophie was too intent on her story to answer.
And, then, THEN she had help, from, from, from. . . DOCTOR KING! And now everyone can sit where they want on the bus. But, then she got old, and not too long ago, she died. It's very sad.
Sophie, that was a woman named Rosa Parks. Remember, we've read books about her before?
No Mom. No. It was Britney, a long time ago. When she was young. And black.
that I want to remember.
- asking for "sesame street doc ord" on the kids' new computer
- being deathly afraid of the tooth fairy
- saying "werm" for warm -- Mommy, hug me and make me werm
- copying her older siblings' habit of yelling FIRST ON WII / FIRST ON COMPUTER / FIRST ON X-BOX as they climb into the van after school. only she does it every time she gets into the car, whether they are around or not
Make your own HERE
The Awesome (capital A) and Lovely (capital L) Jen is going to be in the San Francisco Bay Area a couple of times this spring. I've already claimed one of the twelve or so slots she's got available for portraits. Here's a link to some of the pictures she took at my little brother's wedding. You can see more of her excellent work on her website. If you are interested in booking a session with her, give me a holler.
Oh, wow.
Can I just tell you that the bad mood is magically gone, and in place of it there is a manic happyness, no: Happyness, that is sort of scaring the shit out of me? Can I just tell you that? I'm bouncy and happy and Positive Thinking about stuff.
Weird. Where is the cranky me?
Tonight Sophie lost her first tooth. I was in the shower and she came in crying because she's been w a i t i n g for her tooth to fall out forever and ever and her brother told her she had a good two week wait, and he's got to be wrong she said because it's bleeding blood and . . . then she left and left the door open and I was cold so I reached out of the shower to the door and closed it and turned up the hot and then as I got warm again, the door flew open and it was one of the boys (I don't remember because I am MANIC) yelling MooooOOOOOoooMmmmmmm! sophielosthertooth!sophielosthertooth!
I turned off the water and got my robe on and found her in the kids' bathroom, blood all over her chin, new gaping smile from ear to ear. We hugged and high-fived and took gruesome photos (not uploaded yet, because I don't think I can sit still that long, to tell you the truth) and rinsed with salt water and found the tooth fairy box (and the boys were all HEY! She owes both of us AND SHE BETTER PAY UP TONIGHT! One of the boys is still a believer, but just barely).
The boys were nice to her. It made me teary. I am deadly serious. She was cute and sweet and everyone got along for more than five minutes and I had a glimpse of how great it can be sometimes and that was very needed. Very. After she was in bed, Nathan came in to kiss the girls goodnight and she sat up and said, Nathan, thanks for being so nice to me when my tooth fell out. It sort of freaked me out a little and you helped me and thanks.
Which reminds me -- last night I was lying in bed with Willow and she touched my forehead. Mama, she said, your head is right. Then she petted my eyebrows and said, and your eyebrows are so soft. I love when they come up with odd things like that.
I am in such a bad mood. If small and cute things, things like butterflies, puppies, starfish, or sparrows, could be in my head with my thoughts they would die from and then be poached by the steamy mean swirling around in there. I'm mad at myself, annoyed with 98% of the world, and jealous of the other 2%. It's not good. I am upset for pretty shallow and droll reasons, and that makes me MORE angry with myself.
How self-absorbed can one girl be?
Here's a pretty rainbow to cheer me up:
The power was out all day and OMFG no one could surf the web or play the Wii, Game Cube, X-Box, or uncharged GameBoys or Nintendo DS. The kids were like the dad on Sanford and Son (duh-na-duh-na, duh-na, duh-na, duh-na-na), all drama and sputtering while clutching their hearts and staggering around on stiff, straight legs.
Finally, they bundled up and went out to play in the wet 70 mph wind (they CANNOT spend all day inside, no matter what) and it blew so fiercely it made Willow cry. She's pulling it together in this photo, but she was really shaken up for a bit there.
I found out several hours later that my boys and their friend went through the neighborhood knocking on doors, offering some variation on the following:
SO. ourpowerisout. ISYOURPOWEROUTTOO? If you need CANDLES or BATTERIES, just come to our house! We have some. HERE IS OUR PHONE NUMBER, just in case! KTHXBYE!
All up and down the whole street. A street of duplexes. HAHAHA!
At one house they picked up a bunch of big branches that had blown down and were paid 3 bux each by the woman who lives there. I gave them so much shit for taking the money. I said that if a neighbor needs help, you just HELP them. They say that they told her several times they didn't want payment, but that she insisted. Could be. (right)
At any rate, now the rain has slowed, the wind is all but done and the power is back on. The bathtub is filled with wet jackets and pants and gloves waiting for the washer to become available. The yard is full of palm fronds. puddles, and broken branches.
We had candlelit baths and meals today, played with blocks and remote control cars. Lex read by the dim grey light near the window. There were naps, cuddling, puddle stompings, wind-listening sessions, and cursing. Eggs and bacon half cooked and sitting on the electric stove until the power came back on and then eaten as the power went back off for the day. Twelve wet boots by the front door. Supper from a restaurant eaten at home by candlelight, even though the power came back on while we were out.
Finally, they bundled up and went out to play in the wet 70 mph wind (they CANNOT spend all day inside, no matter what) and it blew so fiercely it made Willow cry. She's pulling it together in this photo, but she was really shaken up for a bit there.
I found out several hours later that my boys and their friend went through the neighborhood knocking on doors, offering some variation on the following:
SO. ourpowerisout. ISYOURPOWEROUTTOO? If you need CANDLES or BATTERIES, just come to our house! We have some. HERE IS OUR PHONE NUMBER, just in case! KTHXBYE!
All up and down the whole street. A street of duplexes. HAHAHA!
At one house they picked up a bunch of big branches that had blown down and were paid 3 bux each by the woman who lives there. I gave them so much shit for taking the money. I said that if a neighbor needs help, you just HELP them. They say that they told her several times they didn't want payment, but that she insisted. Could be. (right)
At any rate, now the rain has slowed, the wind is all but done and the power is back on. The bathtub is filled with wet jackets and pants and gloves waiting for the washer to become available. The yard is full of palm fronds. puddles, and broken branches.
We had candlelit baths and meals today, played with blocks and remote control cars. Lex read by the dim grey light near the window. There were naps, cuddling, puddle stompings, wind-listening sessions, and cursing. Eggs and bacon half cooked and sitting on the electric stove until the power came back on and then eaten as the power went back off for the day. Twelve wet boots by the front door. Supper from a restaurant eaten at home by candlelight, even though the power came back on while we were out.
Last night I came home from yoga and instead of going straight to the shower like a reasonable person, I went straight to the kitchen. Immediately the kids started demanding food (though they'd eaten already) and that is how I found myself standing at the stove in stinky and more than damp clothes, drinking a glass of wine (from a tiny, quilted, glass jelly jar that I should really return to my mom) and trying to pop popcorn on the stove top while also eating hummus and chips.
You think that's a lot to deal with; I didn't even describe what the kids were doing.
Anyhay, earlier in the day, Lex made smoothies for everyone. The blender bottom was still sitting out on the counter, in front of the toaster and just to the right of where I was popping, sipping, dipping, shivering, and stinking. (please don't hate me for my oxford comma) Since my tiny kitchen was made at a time (the 1970s) when builders must have figured that the wave of the future was TV dinners and therefore, why bother, really, with much of a kitchen at all, there is Very Limited Space in my kitchen. So I put the little plastic sack of popcorn on the blender bottom because there wasn't anywhere else and I couldn't reach the top cabinet shelf where I wanted to put it and still do what I was doing.
In walks Sophie. She's pissed off because when she sat down to eat some french fries, Nathan got on the computer and it was
H E R T U R N STILL!
She was fidgeting and whining and started messing with the buttons on the (plugged in) blender base. Since the top wasn't attached, I thought, it wouldn't do anything. ** It would be funny, I thought, to pretend to jump when she pushed the buttons. You know, like something was going to happen. Ha ha ha. So I did that, and she laughed. And then she pushed at the buttons more and I jumped and said AHHHHH! And then she did it again, and the spinny thing that makes the blade of the assembled blender spin started to go and it ripped open the plastic sack of popcorn and sprayed popcorn kernels All Over the smallest kitchen in the west. One piece of corn hit me right in the lip and it hurt. Another landed under the burner that I'd just turned off because the popcorn was finished and as I held the leaking bag in one hand and took the popcorn off the burner with the other I leaned forward and took the tiny jelly jar in my teeth and upended the rest of the wine down the hatch.
The little popcorn kernel that landed under the burner then got hot enough to POP.
** that would be the cuisinart, jen
Someone was really ready for bed before midnight last night, but we're mean and forced her to stay up. She did enjoy the trothlike martini glass filled with apple cider and a couple of books before falling asleep an hour into the new year.
I had the bright idea that the kids would like watching one of my favorite old Audry Hepburn movies and for once I was right. We watched Charade, and at the very end all four kids were sitting upright on the couch, leaning toward the screen and (most importantly) not talking. Sophie said to me at one point, "I can't really tell what is going on in this movie, but I like it!"
Sophie and I are the only ones up, and it's already 10 a.m. I'm sitting on the couch, in the middle so I can feel the heater on my feet. Sophie is playing on the kids' new iMac. The parts of the sky I can see are bright blue and clear.
Sophie has just ordered a scrambled egg burrito and cinnamon toast.
Happy New Year
