I've been sick (bronchitis), but that's no excuse for not writing. Today is Sophie's last day of school - sort of. It's more like a half day composed of field games. If I was feeling better I'd be there, enjoying the bittersweetness of the event and working one of the activities. Yesterday minorly prophetically I said my goodbyes and brought flowers to my daughter's teachers on their last real full day of school. I didn't say goodbye to the children because they were all trickling out to recess. I've been now and then crying small batches of sweet, sad tears about it - how much I'd miss time in that classroom. It was convenient being ill I didn't have to face up to it yet one more time on the today.

Yesterday evening after dropping off some donations for the preschool garage sale Ralph told us the carnival was at the mall. You know - one of those traveling events with ridiculously priced poisonous food, all sorts of fun rides put together by junkies, and a ticket system that works out to an average of $4 each ride. I had misgivings about just "driving by" the carnival without having the children expressly informed in sober, repetitive detail that tomorrow we'd be going to the carnival: tonight was merely a look-see. However instead of voicing my concerns to my husband I brushed them aside and instead indulged myself in attempting to discuss my day's ideas and feelings with my adult male partner - something I crave and get so little of when our children are in tow.

I pull around the carnival lot and yes, it is mighty and huge. The kids grow excited. We tell them we're "just checking it out". They ask if we can participate tonight, now. We say no, Daddy didn't bring his wallet, and anyway we're going tomorrow. Their anxiety becomes palpable, their pleas increasingly frantic. I try the firm but casually friendly "no". It doesn't go over as friendly or casual. They have wound themselves up: I couldn't have predicted the intensity of their reaction. They throw their heads back and howl. Instantly their faces are streaked, sunburned, disbelieving, tortured. I can hear the tears flying in huge arcs out of their squeezed-shut eyes and raining on the car upholstery.

Ralph and I are laughing in front - hiding our laughter, because we don't want to be cruel. It's just - you can't imagine how much fuss they are making! And for the two of them to both set up wails of protest makes the noise and drama of the event truly impressive (usually it's one or the other: Nels more unflappable, Sophie much more likely to set up a "fussdown" as she calls it). It turns out - as Ralph tells me later - the drive-by was just about the worse idea we've had (he had, I was merely an accessory). Of course I know the kids are going to be fine but I simultaneously am remembering how horrid these sorts of feelings were as a child. Powerless, the glittering brass ring vanishing before my eyes, the adults able to grant me my one desperate wish refusing out of sadism or caprice. Unfair, tragic, horrible.

On the drive home Sophie spits out dire statements ("I'll never get to go to a carnival again! It will never be OK!") while Nels alternates between firm and emphatic commands ("Mom, Dad - take us to the carnival now, please!") to declarations of punitive action ("OK - no treats for Mama or Daddy - no maclairs for you!"*) and then back again. I feel clumsy, bad as a parent. Best to let those moments just slip through as quickly as possible.

At 11:45 this morning my children and husband return from the school event; Nels sporting rather unusual glittery pink and striped makeup. "I'm a princess and a tiger," he tells me.

* By "maclairs" being my son's pronunciation for our favorite breakfast pastries, eclairs.

Ralph and the kids return from

Labels: Nels, school, Sophie, sorrows

Today I had one of those delightful days - a full schedule, just a skosh shy of being too full. Nels and I were off at 9:55 this morning - hauling two rakes, a hoe, a shovel, three small digging tools and two watering cans on the bike - for our end-of-year picnic and inaugural garden installation for Nels' preschool. From there we journied to my favorite diner where it was packed and I ended up doing dishes for about an hour and a half. Then to Sophie's school for my Monday slot of classroom helper. Nels attended and worked all these events; I forget sometimes how well-behaved my children can be. (Relatively; at my last shift at Sophie's school Nels urinated on the playground in full view of say, five thousand people).

Tomorrow: babysitting in the morning, movie night with the girls in the evening, a secret shipment of strawberries, cream, and pound cake to Sophie's teachers and who knows - maybe even a minute or two sewing!

Labels: bike, garden, HQX, school, X

This morning finds me making soothing sounds to and careful motions around my LAZR printer in hopes it will do as it's told and print my little zine out without eating a lot of paper or making me cry with it's weird paper handling voodoo. I'm eking out copies at this point, but at least it's working.

Today I got up about two hours earlier than I usually do, at 6 AM (OK - I slept in a bit, it was more like 6:20 AM) to start making foccacia for my daughter's kindergarten class in our Thursday morning ritual. OK, yes, it's kind of a grownup recipe for little kids. But honestly, I had no groceries in the house except my breadmaking staples, some lovely roma tomatoes, and garlic. The best part will be when one little one pipes up about their hatred / fear of tomatoes (the ones I sharpened and re-sharpened my knife for and cut so carefully) and the whole class catches the bug and also start vehemently professing violent tomato antipathy. I mean those children are used to me and my food - they trust and eat whatever I make - but wee picky eaters are a contagious lot.

Tonight: helping a friend sew, crashing out early to a bad movie.

Labels: food, school, techy, zine

Yesterday evening I biked about 8 miles total - hauling both kids, two huge coffee carafes, cream and coffee cups for two dozen people, my Secretary's binder - and a chicken barley casserole - to my son's preschool for our Open House. Now as one of the school hostesses I'd like to see myself this way: hair impeccably coiffed, one foot extended in a classy patent leather pump, sweater seat or classy dressy frock, and I'm smiling and saying gracious stuff (something like her). Instead it's me loudly cackling and probably saying the word "cock" to my friend Shannon (who also biked with me, and is also loud) and I'm sporting really filthy hippie pigtails, sweat rings*, red face, and leaking barley juice that was at least fragrant (the casserole turned out beautifully) while my children tumble into the school breakneck speed and I'm pretty sure Nels was, as usual, fully cross-dressed.

At the end of the event - four Board members, so much coffee, so much effort and organization - we'd managed to entertain and enjoy the one family that did attend. I looked at Shannon (our President for next year) and said, "We nailed it!" and we cackled some more. In all fairness I do think the family that came to the Open House will be enrolling both their small children. And my family and I had a great time and a great bike ride.

Today Ralph and I met with a school administrator to discuss next year's plan to homeschool Sophie. It was a great meeting and we were assured that the school supports our involvement in any school programs Sophie would like to attend. But I was left with that distinct feeling of - for lack of a better word - company-speak. I found myself wanting to know more from this administrator; more about how someone privy to the school system felt about our WASL, about homeschooling; perhaps some candid talk about the troubles and triumphs of the system. As it is I am still dumb as a post to any political or backroom knowledge. Still, it was nice to meet and discuss; and it was very nice to know the door is completely open to us.

I felt so silly the rest of my day. I've been busy lately but not too busy to avoid a general contentment in my life. Is it true all I want to do is cook**, visit with friends, garden, hang out with my kids, bike, and clean my house? And if it's true that's "all I want to do" - isn't that just a form of living, and a pretty good one? How did I luck into having my life this way (for now)? Why do I feel so odd being - again, for lack of a better word - fulfilled, by such mundane stuff?

* I couldn't find anything on Google image search sweaty and gross enough, sorry.

** Today I made Cypress Easter Bread, sourdough rye from my own starter (pwnage!), and Rustic Baked Beef Stew.

Labels: bike, food, food geekery, homesteading, Nels, school

Every Thursday since school's inception I've assisted in my daughter's classroom twice a week - Mondays for art or math exercises, and Thursdays by bringing a homemade snack. I've come to love this part of my week, especially my Thursdays. I know every single child there and would truly love to take each home. They seem to love me too - not in the "novelty of a stranger bringing food" but in the trusted, I'm-a-part-of-their-world way - because I've been there consistently for them.

I have to say, at first my volunteering felt like something I should do to be involved with my children. But now nothing could take away my gratitude and gladness I've been volunteering my time. Not because I gave yet more to my children, and not even because I gave to other children. But because being involved with children has given a lot to me. I see things through their eyes, with their loyalties and caprice, with their delight and short attention span. It matters so little if they like what I cook for them (they almost invariably do), so over the last months I've learned not to worry about that. What has come to mean a great deal to me is to learn to serve and let go out outcome, to listen to each child as I pass out their food at their places at the table. Most say, "Thank you," many say, "What is this?" in frenzied excitement (today's offering was a last-minute recipe discovery). Usually as I'm slicing fresh pita open or parsing out carrot sticks one of the children will come and wrap their arms around me, laying their head against me, or tell me, "I always like what you bring!" with a shining smile. It's an amazing gift, that kind of unselfconscious display of affection. I put myself in the way of that affection by accident but I find myself so pleased to have it. By merely being there for the kids I know we will each be indelibly etched in one another's memories for as long as we live, even as a tiny thread of early childhood that brings simple comfort and joy.

Later today involves that kind of evening routine I don't look forward to: a series of meetings. First, the Afterschool Program with the kids at Central School. Following that, a Garden meeting and then a sewing date. I don't like to do things at night. I want to be home, cooking dinner, hanging out with the family. Nothing expected of me but food on the table. Each and every activity is worth it's while and I am willing and able to assist. Just sometimes I don't know how I'll get up a head of steam for my responsibilities.

Labels: food, school

This weekend was a busy one - coming off a dinner party (of sorts) on Thursday we took in the school carnival at Lincoln elementary, the bridge opening celebration at the HQX Farmer's Market, the Shorebird Festival, and a private rollerskating birthday party (where I discovered I could still skate reasonably well). All traveled to by foot or by bike and on a shoestring grocery budget. Ralph also worked most of Saturday in the yard mowing, weed-eating, and finishing our "greenhouse" (which Nels calls a "pinkhouse" for absolutely no reason - the truth is it's kind of this DIY recycled materials shanty). I joined him to hang laundry and put out the starts I'd been working up: lettuces, cucumbers, peas, bush beans, cilantro, sunflowers, love in a mist, snapdragons, amaranth, sweet peas, and calendula. Now if only the cats would stop using our lovely large bed as a lovely large litterbox. In fact today I had a very, very sad cat crap experience I won't elaborate on. Yeah, it was really, really bad. Just know this and be glad it didn't happen to you. P.S. I'll be telling Billy every detail.

Yesterday's daytime activities were a very sweet affair: the kids and I played "homeschool" in part inspired by the old-fashioned child's desk we found at the Public Market's associated garage sale (where I also made a new friend, an RN who works up on the Quinault Reservation). The children loved the school play - and I mean loved it. Sophie would call Harris "the school cat" with the most pleased expression of eye and tooth. During the subject of "bath time" I made up report cards in categories Science & Discovery, Art & Creative Play, Exercise & Pet Care, Food Preparation, Personal Hygiene & Clean Up, and Conduct. I wrote things like, "Very good at washing dishes," and "B- : forgot to flush toilet" and, "Was the catcher during 'Parachute Toy Science Experiment'." Smart Mommy and Daddy readers will immediately see this enabled me to also get the entire house clean with their help. Maybe I'll graduate up to Coffee Making and Foot Rubbing extra credit projects.

Tomorrow finds me back to the "normal" school routine and I already miss our weekend together. We had a lot of sunny, easy hours together.

Labels: garden, homesteading, HQX, Nels, school, Sophie

3/28/08 2:15 PM: date and time that my precious, precious X joined the family. I feel superstitious and odd about it though because, A. it isn't fully paid off (but will be soon!); B. heck, even when it's paid off it was a lot of money!; C. I haven't put it on the front of the bus yet (have to try that out at the bus barn and hopefully while it's not snowing); and D. I'm still getting used to the very different handling of this new vehicle.

Sophie was still at school when I loaded Nels up and went off on the inaugural run to get groceries. It was literally hailing, I was in the lowest gear (I didn't realize this at first) and wobbling, and I could hear Terry (Bike Shop Guy) behind me making nervous, doubtful sounds as I rounded the corner. Once I sorted the gears things went better. The bike felt long and strange - even though I'm used to a much longer tail (vis-a-vis trailer - but obviously there is a "bend" in the trailer set-up). Nels up behind me instead of on two wheels on the ground felt odd but he seemed to really enjoy it. We hit Swansons and I kind of wondered around the place getting groceries, still excited about the bike (we bought Ralph some Jones Soda and the rest of tonight's repast).

From there we headed home, briefly warmed up inside and went off to get Sophie. The hail had subsided but the wind and cold were fierce. Adding another kid to the bike felt very wobbly and odd but the little monkey mounted, dismounted, and held on perfectly. The little kiddos will need gloves for sure as the elements were very, very rough.

This morning Nels took a tomato start to his teacher (actually his substitute teacher who was filling in during maternity leave; today was her last day) and I sent two to a couple AmeriCorp students Ralph knows at GHC.

The weather may not have tuned into this fact - but Spring is indeed here!

Labels: bike, garden, Nels, newness, rain, school, Sophie, weather, X

My daughter's kindergarten homework gives evidence of something I used to do myself: intellectually twiddle my thumbs by embellishing schoolwork easily mastered. Examples: having filled out a grid with numbers one through one hundred, Sophie will go back and embellish each void space within the numerals 6, 8, 9 and 0; she will write notes in the margins or put flourishes in her name. Even on an occasion last week she corrected an error in the homework itself. Volunteering in her classroom I have not seen any other child do this to the extent she does.

However her intellectual prowess, such as it is, does not manifest in boredom or ennui in a way that is easily detected or even harmful. In fact she is cheerful enough to go to school and fine sitting on the carpet being not-challenged by the academic exercises. She enjoys her social time and navigates confidently. She has learned bullying behaviors and how to be an Alpha Female; that is, rude to some of her other classmates although quick to say "sorry" and respect her teacher's authority. She seems to like all subjects. Last Friday while getting ready she said, "I have P.E. today," then paused... "so I need some sweats." As if kindergarten physical education needs to be geared for.

Still, today I notice that her abbreviated day at school (8:30 to 11:15 AM, cut short for conferences) seems to result in her being less keyed-up and more receptive to the remainder of the day's activities: visiting the bike shop (a new kickstand and - ding! ding! ding! - my xtracycle parts are in!), having lunch in a cafe with my mom and a friend, stopping at the library, and finally, returning home to start our dinner with Nels and I (he is always willing and able to be a great help in the kitchen). This latter exercise was the most fun for me. All three of us took our knives to trimming green beans and carrots and did the dishes together afterwards. That done we retired to my bed to each of us to read silently for a while which in turn made me too sleepy to do much of anything else until Ralph returned home and I biked the four or so miles to this evening's preschool Board meeting.

It's only spring, and the beginning of spring at that, but already I long for the long days of summer with my children in my house and out of doors.

Labels: books, food, Nels, school, Sophie

I've been reluctant to write much about my hours spent in my children's schools, but the fact is I spend a lot of time with my children in their educational environments and I think about those environments a great deal. Today I performed my Monday morning shift in Suse's kindergarten class along with a substitute teacher. I was surprised to find the typically well-behaved twenty plus children suddenly turn into rowdy, loud, inconsiderate pupils. And like some kind of virus, the misbehavior was not able to be contained by the substitute nor even a little speech of my own (listened to respectfully at least).

Sophie's teacher impresses me because she has established control of the classroom. Her first few weeks of class were spent almost solely on behavioral issues, the benefit of which is that almost two dozen small children typically experience a safe and ordered environment. But as I herded them into their lunch line today it occurred to me that staying in the public school system meant - besides the occasional luck of a great teacher - my kids would probably have many, many days like this one - an atmosphere of chaos above order, busywork above engagement, admonishment from adults rather than curiosity, expecations, and mutual respect.

My Monday work is typically in helping children with an art project. The time and energy that goes into each project is incredible, yet I notice in the classroom setting each child typically doesn't have enough time to carry out the project in a way that informs him or her in their own interest and skills (or lack thereof). Because of this time constraint my favorite art project this year was an uber-simple project of picking out clippings for magazines (high school assistant J. and I pre-cut animals from National Geographics) and gluing three of them to a piece of paper divided into sections. In this case the project was simple enough I got to talk to each child about their choice of animal and layout; an artistic and relational growing process in my mind far superior to the sometimes more elaborate products we produce by giving curt directions and doing half the work for the child.

Any discussion about my children's school environments isn't nearly so much a criticism of the system or a worry about my children's experiences as it is a learning experience for me. I think it's a sign of my deferment to authority I've always believed school is a given establishment that is for The Good and therefore is itself Good - that is, sometimes children misbehave or have a horrid time there but, all in all, The System Knows Best (P.S. I know exactly which parent I co-opted this concept from). It is so odd I find myself realizing the system is, well, relatively arbitrary. Do I have the courage to think for myself what I want for my family and myself when society around me has been encouraging me to take advantage of the free babysitting provided by the state?

It's lighter in the early morning hours. I have learned Spring weather in Grays Harbor is capricious, at turns sunny and brilliant, ominous, or dismally wet. The thrilling rains of Fall have given way to the saturating showers of spring, keeping our backyard wet, wet, wet in the interim before the sky opens up again.

Labels: GH, school, weather

I find when I invite gratitude into my life, richness pours in. Today I felt so fortunate to be sitting in the hospital with my mother and son while my father sat pre-surgery awaiting another medical procedure - this time, a port installed into his body so we could pump chemo into his heart. The nurse commented on my father's eyelashes. Since his latest respite from chemo his hair not only grew back thicker and kinkier, his eyelashes are long and curly like a cupid's, a rare physical beauty blooming from a ravaged body. Another strange-yet-true part of our journey with cancer. Nels' behavior is complemented by many nurses and staff and in turn I get to hear the (rare) out-loud testimonies from my parents, who are proud of the care their grandchildren receive.

This morning my husband printed out fifty copies of the zine (click to download: [here] ) and after getting home from the hospital I painstakingly stamp them all. They're off to my East County distributor, whose efforts I appreciate so much in spreading the zine out a bit. Perfectionist I am, I cringe that my website still needs an update; oh well. "Done is better than perfect," I remind myself.

In just a few minutes Nels and I travel to Suse's kindergarten class for a Valentine's Day party. My mother made lovely meringue sugar cookies and I am supplying soaked almonds and dried fruit. Let me tell you, my time with those children is unadulterated joy. Now if I can just pace myself, I'll still have energy to sew on my brother's coat this evening before we're off to an Open Mike at the deli (Ralph is performing).

Labels: gratitude, Grazdma, illness, Nels, Ralph, school, SNF, the Ghost of Christmas Bastard

Today as I walked between my kitchen and living room I came upon the tipping point about our homeschool decision, which was: if I ever decide I want money more than I want our homeschool / family experience, I can always choose money. I am not destined to poverty for life (which is how I sometimes fear my future) just because - for now, and a while at least - I'm choosing not to work outside the home for financial compensation.

But can anyone know how strongly I feel I'm supposed to be hurrying my children along to free babysitting so I can go put my time and brain and body into someone else's endeavor, so they can give me money, and I can bring it home? Why do I feel this way? Simply because that's what nearly everyone I personally know is doing. Although this doesn't match with my or my husband's goals, I still feel this tremendous pressure to chase investment (in a home, in better cars, in more stuff, in nicer stuff), some outside sense of accomplishment, some way of being smart money-wise so I can have enough that I don't have to actually count up the bits and think about them.

What I need: mentors. I have been told, oddly it seems sometimes, I am a mentor or at least an inspiration to not a few who read here or know me. And I'm seeking the same in this category of my children's education and our life as a family. Applicants, do seek me out because I feel decisively like I'm setting on a path few travel and maybe one more importantly: a path my own family of origin did not travel.

I briefly feel such a kinship with and gratitude for my mother when I discuss this with her, later in the day on the phone. I'm saying, "... trying to accept that I won't be working" when she starts to talk and I add, "well I mean, working for pay." She interrupts herself to laugh "Yeah really!" aside, under her breath, in the exact we're-both-knowing-the-same-thing tone she'd use if I mentioned how perfectly sexy Johnny Depp is or said a perfect joke we both know and love. See, she and I know what "work" I really am looking forward to, work I started in on the moment my daughter was born but only get better at and enjoy more (with a few decidedly horrific "off" days, hee hee). My last six years and my future stretch out in a continuum of priorities and newness and love and learning and gratitude that just seems to bloom more and more and give me more energy than any previous endeavors.

It is funny sometimes finding out who I am, as I grow. I'm always a little surprised to find I'm not who people told me I was.

Labels: goodness, Grazdma, newness, school

Yesterday, annoyed that taking rest the week before had not resulted in a complete recovery, I simply didn't rest. And perhaps in karmic bodily retribution, last night I had the worst case of stuffed-up head I'd ever had. I felt like I'd been hit in the face with a big, blunt object - without the pain, but with all the swollen pressure. A shot-glass of the blue-green heavy duty called Nyquil provided means to sleep through the congestion. Waking up after mouth-breathing all night: priceless.

Today about thirty minutes before school's close I get a call that my daughter is sick; her ear hurts. She'd mentioned this in the morning but had not felt hot nor looked feverish so I'd sent her off. I help Nels into layer upon layer and we go pick up his sister. Home again I begin an afternoon meal of soup (garlic sauteed in coconut oil, broth, pasta, cayenne, lemon, egg), salted cucumber, and sliced blood oranges while my daughter falls asleep in front of the fire, an exhausted pile of empty-looking clothes.

Ralph too is sick but did not stay home from his day trip to Olympia. Only Nels and Harris remain cheerful and virile, my son quickly scuttling under the kitchen table when I catch him, barechested and eating directly from the sugar tin. I place a small table for him in my bedroom so we can watch a movie with monsters together and wait for the man of the house to return.

Labels: food, illness, Ralph, roadtrip, school, Sophie

Not everyone has pieced together that I actually do work outside the home. Every Monday I volunteer in my daughter's classroom assisting, usually, with an art project and letter and number exercises. Thursdays I return and bring a snack and (sometimes) a little extra lesson to go along with the snack. Sophie's teacher Mrs. P. is awesome at directing me in a way that corresponds to what they're working on during the week (this week is the well-loved tale The Mitten as illustrated by Jan Brett). About every other Friday I have a shift at Nels' preschool. I'm the secretary on the Board of that preschool which involves a sometimes crippling amount of small but very detail-intensive - well, not exactly busywork, but administrative work. You know, the kind of thing a lot of people don't do until they're older and realize a lot of quality institutions need volunteer work exactly of this caliber. The kind of work you get little thanks for - except from the others working alongside you. And lastly, the whole family is involved in various aspects of running the program at the 7th Street Theatre which isn't as scheduled but is definitely detail-oriented.

My favorite job has to be Sophie's school, so far. I feel it is such a privilege to be able to participate as much as I do in her education and that of her peers. And I have put enough time in to her classroom that I not only feel I know a lot (but certainly not all!) of what goes on during her day, I also know her teachers, her friends, and her world. I never thought of myself as good with kids but my time in her school has made me a kid person, because I see the value in hanging out with children more and more. Each child, to a soul, is treasured by me. Each child is different. Every experience with each child fits them in their own unique way that leaves me storytelling to most anyone who will listen - my parents and husband, usually. The kids make me laugh and surprise me, every day I work with them. I would take any of them home in a minute. I mean, don't worry mom and dad, I don't mean it literally. I mean, "your children have touched me in a very special place and I'm pretty sure I've touched them"... OK, I'll stop there.

Today involved a sewing exercise - students cut out two mitten-shaped construction paper patterns, then we adults helped them punch holes in the perimeter of the mitten and directed them to a running stitch to bind the two pieces. Let me tell you, it restored my faith in my favorite craft of sewing. Every child to an instance enjoyed the process. The boys and girls were of equal ability and interest. Each child was proud of his or her finished work in a way that many previous paper-and-glue projects have not quite spawned.

Even more fun for me was the fact that two of the children who typically struggle with the academic and social learning aspects of kindergarten really excelled at the sewing. One has a speech impediment of sorts that over time I've improved in understanding. The other spends a lot of time in the "watching chair" (time out). Both of these children completed their mittens quickly. One of them was the only child able to course-correct after doing a whip-stitch error. I just loved in my heart to see them do well at something they enjoyed. Because not only do these students get the consideration / stigma of "special ed" kind of help, I get the feeling they are often treated with that "don't expect much" attitude by some of the adults in their lives. It would be tactless of me to say a lot more about the situation, so I won't. Today I was happy to report to Mrs. P. how well each did and how interested they were in the process. I felt proud of them, although they aren't mine and I only get to borrow time with them every now and then.

On my way out of the classroom I stopped into the library to get Sophie's new reading book for study. We reward her with a new comic book each time she gets a 100% test (she is currently joyfully swimming in the Boneville series). It isn't just the comic book reward that keeps her interested in reading; today when I handed her the new book in the car her brows furrowed and she read aloud, perfectly, to her brother. They both simply love to learn and love the world around them. They truly deliver energy and inspiration to the depths of me.

And Nels... "I like your sheets."

Labels: books, gratitude, school, sewing, Sophie

Today besides the normal drill of fixing breakfast and lunch and getting the kids read for school I cooked a mini-Thanksgiving "feast" of roast turkey, mashed potatoes w/butter, and carrot sticks for Sophie's kindergarten class - fresh out of the shower at 12:40 throwing potatoes in boiling water for a lunch date at 1 PM (yes, I made it and on time too), deep-cleaned the bathroom, entertained my father during a surprise coffee visit (our conversation actually took many turns for the personal depths, much to my surprise), took the kids to the Sweet Shoppe and picked up some catered bread pudding while there (the only item on the T-day menu I'm not making), took the kids to the Y and worked out, and cut out two dresses and two skirts to sew for Sophie. At my parents' tonight I realized I couldn't sew at home; my children / the kitten - someone - had got ahold of my bobbin helmet, a part I truly do need in order to sew. On hearing this my husband offered to haul my Singer 201 down the narrow stairs, put it in the van and drive it to our house to set up; the machine itself weighs 25 lbs. and is in a giant cabinet that isn't easy to carry even over level ground. I opted instead to come home and tear the house apart for the missing piece to my 15-91. *

Here's another reason I like being married to Ralph; tonight at 9 PM when I said, "Oh, you should go rent Roadhouse since the video stores won't be open tomorrow," and he said "Fuckin' A'!", grabbed our son, and left to go do it. So. There are so many, many people who would not have had that response.

Through a misplaced Tweet I found Devil's Night Radio and I'm loving it. Tonight I heard Nick Cave's "Stagger Lee" which I haven't listened to in nine years on account of how much it offended Ralph when I played it in my car.

Oh, and I found out that after working out and not drinking alchool for a little over a week I have dropped six pounds. People, just so you know, this is officially the first time in my life I've ever done anything approximating "dieting". I'm glad to have lost weight but I'm even more amazed at how good I feel.

So yeah. Things are going great around these parts.

* ETA - that was fast. I published my post, walked into the living room, moved one couch and immediately found the little metal part. Good times.

Labels: film, food, holidays, music, Ralph, school, sewing, swayze, the bod

Insomnia. Again. No external culprits: no late-night caffeine, no alcohol. Exercise earlier in the day. No illness. Just nerves. Alone, abandoned, sad. Listening to my family sleeping. At least the cats are outside cold (yes, I'm about to let them in). At night I tell myself that in the morning I'll feel better. It doesn't help much but, of course, eventually I do sleep. If I was prone to ulcers I'd have developed one.

My days are good. I have been so busy lately - in a good way. I've been working really hard at helping my daughter's class in their learning and enjoyment of school. Her teacher is awesome in that she will help me integrate a food or food activity into the lessons they do during the week. Ever since we started dong this stuff my little bird-brain gears spin away, bordering on the way-too-involved. Today was pumpkin pie day, pumpkin pie being the food the kids voted on earlier in the week (I'm sad they didn't vote for the soup, which would have been more fun to make!). Two-dozen individual pies and one large one for the teachers. The kids sat and unfolded a napkin and we listened to a song about manners while they all ate. It was a nice scene.

Next week I'm even worse. I am currently cooking recipes and planning a little school unit on bread-baking which includes book holds at the library, a Sesame Street video podcast, and a book the kids and I worked on today.

I have been putting together my zine (website pending) which I must finish before I allow myself to sew again (post-Halloween resolution). I am on the preschool board and run little errands for that which aren't rocket science but nevertheless take up a bit of time. Ralph and I have had two meetings each this week (I missed one), being more active in the film / theatre community here. And just trying to keep on top of housework and stay happy with the children and take Sophie to her swim lessons and enjoy peaceful evenings at home. We're hitting it dead-on this week, for a change. No strain, just fun.

Here's the thing: anytime someone tells you they're busy it's easy to not care, to tune out what they're doing. But the point is I decided these things were important. I decided I cared about them, I committed to doing them. It's different than a paid job where someone gives you a formal accolade or a formal paycheck and says, "Yes, that's what you should be doing." It's a good groove though; I'll admit. Today after baking pumpernickel bread my children opted out of playing together to come back in the kitchen and help me make two-dozen rolls (homemade burgers tonight for my dad's dinner). One nice thing about having an at-home parent is your children learn so very much from you. It is truly an honor and inspiration to have them as pupils, too.

The hour grows only later and my body does not feel ready for sleep. Nevertheless I shall try.

Labels: books, food geekery, homesteading, nerves, sahm, school

Labels: food, Grazdma, Nels, school, Sophie

This year for my eldest's kindergarten I started work (unpaid) as an assistant to my daughter's classroom every Monday morning while Nels is in school. Let me tell you, getting to know one's child and other children within the school system is a great opportunity and I've been delighted to discover how much I enjoy it. Don't get me wrong, I like my friends' children but it has to be admitted these children (and my own) could often be viewed as obstacles to my socializing time with their mommies and daddies (anyone who's been an at-home mommy or daddy of young children knows how much "quality time" with your children is instantly available or forced upon you; hanging out during the day with other parents of young children affords at least some adult-level interaction and pasttimes). At school however there are goals for everyone, there are rules in place and a neutral set of enforcers and pace-setters rather than the children's parents. I find myself really enjoying being an educator rather than a parent or babysitter.

This week the children are "studying" a story about peanut butter sandwiches. I think the exercise focuses on reading comprehension (I have noted that classroom reading exercises are well below what my guess is Sophie's second grade reading level - AR test pending; however, for the median classmate the academic exercises feel spot-on and all the children are attentive and seem to love them). While helping yesterday Mrs. P. asked me if I could come the next day and bring bread, so we could make peanut butter sandwiches (part two of the scientific experiment?).

So this morning with Nels in bike I brought homemade bread, Mrs. P bought the PB and J and we made sandwiches. I took a picture of the little kids freaking out joyously when Mrs. P. announced our project. During sandwich-making time (which coincided with other "stations" of art project and academic work on the letter "P") Nels participated at a very good kgarten level, working so hard on a drawing / sticker exercise we were forced to take the sandwich with us on the bike trip to the bus station. Next week Mrs. P. tells me they are doing pizza and if she's into it I will likely bring the dough and sauce, she can do toppings, and we can cook them in the kitchen. As you can imagine I am well-loved in that class. And I like each and every kid, and really feel like I'm getting to know them. Even The Little Sweet Psychotic (a beautiful, precious girl who scares me with her non-confrontational yet extremely confrontational behaviors) gave me two hugs before I left.

After class time Nels and I biked to the bus station to take the bus to Aberdeen's LYS. After a very nauseating trip (I am very prone to carsick on our busses, sadly) I had Ralph meet me at the downtown shop and take Nels on a photo walk while I learned how to pick up the heel flap and inset to make the sock gusset. I was really irritated to discover the lack of "exact science" in picking up the stitches. However from here on out it looks like super easy sailing and then being walked through kitchener stitch by my fabulous local mentors. Yay socks!

Tonight: library date with kids, board meeting for the preschool, dinner at my 'rent's while watching 300 with the associated rifftrax. A little slice of heaven for me, well except for that Board meeting.

Labels: bike, bus, film, food geekery, knitting, Nels, school, Sophie

When you spend your time with a series of mentally non-challenging and thankless (as in, you get directly acknowledged for around ten percent of your) tasks - a huge, bottomless series that swallows you up - it feels one thousand times worse when you screw up. Because it's not like you fail in something that was really difficult or time-consuming or even Big Picture Important. You screw up on some tiny thing that most people might think, "What's your problem? Pull it together!" or maybe, "Who cares?" about.

In this case I'm speaking of Picture Day, which is today at Sophie's school. So for either Ralph or I this involves filling out a form and writing a check and dressing the child and making sure they're clean, presentable, and / or cute. Well, I completely forgot. So this morning Sophie went without money, without a form, and dressed "like a boy" (her words; sometimes she chooses this costume) which included a hand-me-down camouflaged longsleeve t-shirt. When I got back from dropping her off - actually ahead of the timeline, thanks - I checked my mail and discovered my error (thanks, GCal, for being on the ball!). This meant going back to the school with abovementioned details sorted out. The one neat thing about this annoying, small-potatoes quasi-waste of my time was seeing my daughter light up when I arrived. Not just happy to see me as she put her hand trustingly in mine, but I saw that she viewed my surprise visit not as evidence I screwed up (as an older child might) but purely as evidence that I take good care of her. Awwww.

Today I - yet again - watched a friend's child for a few hours. This was a shift from 11:30 to 2:30 and I took the child C. along with Nels for a long walk to a local cafe and back. C. is loved especially by Nels and my husband. She is a very sweet, social, direct child. She has a few quirks that make me laugh, one of which is that most of the time her speech is like the Weekend Update guest suffering from voice immodulation; the other is that when she's upset about something she descends into a sort of silent hangdog standing / crumpling / threatening-to-cry / series of events that is quite distinct (my children scream or do this crazy phoney hyperventilating thing which is filling me with rage even as I talk about it) and I only notice it after a few minutes when I realize she hasn't spoken for a while. Nels loves, simply loves it when I have extra children to care for. Besides some kitten-torture (today Harris was banished outside our entire duration of in-home with C.; one of the reasons we went on the walk was to allow our Regal Prince his indoor naps) Nels and his (lady-)friends get along wonderfully.

Tonight's family events: Abbi's fingerling potatoes, our first Rifftrax (LOTR:FOTR), (hopefully) my brother over for dinner again.

Quote of the day: Sinead O'Connor, referencing Britney Spears:

"I think to attack someone as a mother is very dangerous. I would say that's what puts a young girl on a precipice which is very, very dangerous, in my opinion. Some people may end up really regretting the way they're treating her."

Labels: birlo, film, Mama's crazy, school

Labels: bike, school

Labels: school, Sophie

We are broke, and it ain't no joke. Ralph gets paid on Monday (direct deposit, yay!) and until then, we have no cash. Guess what I mean by "no cash"? Zero. Yesterday we stole over to my parents' house and scored $19 for their quarter jars (we Hogatrash secretly love this kind of scavenging). So I fed the family with $6 last night (black bean burritos with garlic and jalapeno, steamed broccoli, carrot sticks). It would have been less than $6 but we are also out of gas - hee hee! - so we shopped at the mom 'n' pop which is a bit expensive. Tonight's fare:

Calzones with spinach and homemade ricotta*
Dipping sauce (red sauce w/garlic and basil - yay canned tomato products!)
Sweet and sour asparagus salad

Today I ventured to the somewhat ghetto, rather hilarious, and always thrifty Canned Food Outlet today for our groceries (side note - this was after biking the kids up to my daughter's last-day-of-school picnic at Sam Benn in Aberdeen - up hills!). My aim: the produce section. A bit scary: "Fresh lemons"! the sign reads (needed for my ricotta) and well, a good 15% of the lemons are moldy. But here's a life lesson for you: amongst moldy lemons are very ripe, juicy lemons. Then spinach - a huge bag of it reduced to 49 cents. w00t! Asparagus, young and fresh-looking with decent savings of $1.29 for a large bunch.

All told these groceries came to just a little over $3. Yes, I'm awesome.

After Ralph got home (biking the cool seven miles that is his commute, addendum: sometimes getting yelled at for being on a bike: "Jackass! Fucker! Faggot!"), he cleaned up and took Nels to their shift at the 7th Street Theatre working concessions for the movie (which had, I believe, the highest attendance for the film program yet). Sophie helped me fashion calzones and we had a mellow dinner together before our boys got home. I was so, so pleased to see that my produce was fine - no slimy spots, no wilty brownness. Saving pennies is fun but eating partially-spoiled food is not really an option.

Yesterday was also my daughter's preschool "graduation"; she received a diploma and a special award for "Knowing the Names of Lots of Dinosaurs". At our picnic I ended up talking to moms I hadn't previously spent time getting to know (Chris, Kim, and with me being a Kelly we have an oddly unisex parental nomenclature). It was a happy occasion but as these moms are sending their children to different kindergartens (they live outside HQX) I also felt the tinge of "goodbye" which is something that speeds up and hurries along more and more as you raise children. Sophie's teacher, after seven or eight years at this school, will be moving on to a new position. Both of my children gave her a tender hug before we left. This teacher was a very inspirational and amazing presence in our lives, all the more appreciated as acclimation to our new township.

Summer break has officially begun!

*A friend brought me some raw milk from the creamery in Sequim; sadly, as I thaw out each half gallon they seem on the verge of spoilage.

Labels: bike, goodbye, school, Sophie