jubyred

Happy Fourth

Since having children in 2001, I have not seen real fireworks.  It simply got dark too late, they were too loud, or the kids were too little to handle one or the other.  But last night, we finally got back into it.

We spent a good chunk of time drinking mojitos at the pool then hung out in our culdesac for a little sparkler action.  GirlChild spent most of the actual firework portion of the evening with her hands/my hands/Daddy's hands, and eventually purple fuzzy Dora earmuffs, over her ears to muffle the loud sounds, but eventually she acclimated. 

Shots from the day are here.

Fun Day. 

High on the High

When I was in high school, my dad came home from a business trip with a gift for me.  he bought me Linnea in Monet's Garden, the book and the doll.  And even though I was too old for them, he said it reminded him so much of me that he had to get them for me. 

For years, I had them basically in pristine condition until my daughter came along.  And, like my Barbies and some other girly toys I had hung onto, I gave her the doll and read her the book and they became hers.  Linnea's hair recently was loved off and had to be hot glued back on.  Her hat has been lost.  Her pinafore is stained and tattered.  But she has loved it in a way that has meant a lot to me. 

This weekend, the Monet exhibit opened at the High, on loan from the Louvre, and we went so she could see the paintings from her book up close.  She brought Linnea and dragged her around by the foot as we wandered around the museum.  Now I'm dying to take her to Paris to show her the gardens for real. 

Cap n Gown

We did this two years ago when BoyChild "graduated" from Pre-K so this time, I knew what to expect.  The mothers who didn't stood there bawling as the little ones marched forward to accept their certificates of completion.  I fell for that ole trap last time.  This time, I was armed with tissues.

I'm not a big believer in applauding everything my children do.  I think it only serves to make them feel entitled or makes them think the world owes them some sort of special recognition for simply completing what they agreed to do.  So, I could really do without the whole cap and gown thing, however cute it is. 

What's moving to me, as it is to most of the parents, isn't little people dressed up as big people.  What gets us is just the marking of time.  There she is, five years old, suddenly.  It kills me.

So they waved as their names were called and hugged their teachers as they were handed their mini diplomas.  They said the Pledge of Allegiance, sang the national anthem and some other songs, and sat in a line of chairs trying so hard to be still and quiet.  Some did better than others.

We had our last Parent/Teacher conference last week as well. Probably in spite of us, she thrives. Of course I want to take credit when the teacher shows me her academic assessment.  She said she's quiet when she needs to be and speaks up when it's appropriate.  She is independent but a very adept leader among her peers.  I sat there and glowed hearing it.  But I guess my favorite thing she told me was that my daughter is a Whole Person.  In the end, that's all I really want.

The Pics from the day are here.

Pique, Curtsey, Kiss, Bow

A couple weeks ago, my dad came down to visit the kids and we timed it so he would have an opportunity to attend GirlChild's ballet recital.  I didn't grow up with my dad or even in the same state as him.  So he never had a chance to go to participate in any rites of passage like this.  I would tell him about my performances or my awards and he would always be so interested and proud.  But a little sad.  He'd tell me how much he wished he could see it. 

I started singing when I was very young.  My parents never made a big deal about it.  It was just what I did.  It was not uncommon to find me lying on the floor with my feet on the wall listening to music.  I made up songs and sang into the mirror and I guess they just always knew that about me. 

So by the time I really started studying music and started getting recognized, around age 9 or so, it never seemed like a big deal in my house.  I sang the national anthem for school events, for homecoming, and national events.  I sang it at my graduation. I won awards and accolades and my dad never saw any of it.  I would tell him stories about performances and he would be in awe. 

So for him to attend his grandaughter's recital was a very big deal for him.  Watching him was as meaningful to me as watching her.  And afterwards, he told her she was the best one up there.  And he meant it. 

Birds and the Bees

It all started after Christmas.  BoyChild had a friend over and they were playing upstairs in the playroom.  I was downstairs starting dinner when he ran downstairs, grabbed the January edition of Vanity Fair with Kate Winslet on the cover and headed upstairs.

- Hey hey hey.  Where are you going with my magazine?
- Nowhere.  Upstairs. 
- Why are you taking my magazine?
- No reason.  I just like magazines.
- You have ten minutes of playtime yet.  Start cleaning up the mess up there and then y'all get in the car so I can take him home.  Leave the magazine down here.

I wasn't sure what to make of it at first.  I had already looked through it and I knew there were some rather provocative shots of Ms. Winslet in there that revealed her ass (really lovely, shots in the vein of Belle du Jour, actually), but was that what he was going to show his friend?  Maybe they just needed a magazine for some other project they were doing.  The kids were always cutting up magazines.  That was probably it.  I'm sure he was just looking for pictures of cars. 

But to be sure, a few days later, I found myself alone with him and I picked up the magazine.

- So, hey, is this the magazine you wanted to look at the other day?
- I don't know, maybe.
- Was there something specific in it that you were interested in?
- Nah (waaay too nonchalantly).  I just like magazines.
- Yeah, me too.  Do you want to look at this magazine with me?
-  Ok, sure.

So we sit there flipping through the pages and we talk about photography and lighting and advertising.  I get to the spread of Kate and explain that it's set up to look like a famous movie and that lots of people are involved in picking the furniture and the setting up lights.  Blah blah blah.  "Oh, and this one is kind of silly because you can see her bottom."  He laughs a little.  And I go on to explain how lots of photographers and artists like to draw or paint or photograph the human body because it's so beautiful.  And he agrees and listens and that's that. 

Fast forward to a few weeks later and Drew and I are downstairs listening to an argument brewing upstairs between the kids.

- No! She can't be naked if she's going to be the princess.  If you're going to play Barbies with me you have to play right. 
-Well I don't want to play Barbies with you unless she is naked.

I listen on the stairs for a while then head up there.

- Hey guys.  What are y'all playing?
-  (He quickly shoves the naked Barbie under the table.)  Nothing

I send his sister downstairs and we have a little chat. 

- So, it sounded like you were very interested in the Barbie being naked.
- No I wasn't.
- It's okay if you were.  Everyone is curious about what people look like naked.
- Really?
- Sure.  I was and so was your dad.  Everyone is curious about that. 
- Ok.
- Do you have any questions about it?
- Uh...no.
- Well, first of all you know that real women don't really look like a Barbie doll, right? (I resist the urge to go into what I really want to here.  One thing at a time)  But when girls grow up they get breasts and their bodies change just like boys' bodies change.  You remember what breasts are for, right?
- For feeding babies?
- Right!  Exactly. 
-  Then why do you still have them?
-  Uh, well, that's a good question.  I mean, they don't just disappear.  And women who don't have babies have them even though they might never feed a baby with them.  And some women have babies and feed their children with a bottle.  They're kind of just there in case.
- Ok. 
- Do you have any other questions?
- No.
- You know you can ask me anything, don't you?
- Uh huh.

It was at that point that I realized he was so completely embarassed that I stopped.  After telling him how normal he was like 32 times and asking him a few times why he was suddenly so interested in all this, I let it go.  My first thought was total fear, like, who's been talking to him?  Has something happened that I'm not aware of?  And then I sort of got that this is how it goes.  We aren't quite to SEX yet, but we are right on that cusp.

I got him a book geared for kids with the very basic facts of life.  All in kiddie illustrations.  Nothing too weird or sexual.  Just kind of a funny and normal take on things and I read it with him.  He seemed completely disinterested and I set it on the dryer to return to B&N.  Then a few weeks ago, I found it had moved to his room.  I didn't say a word, just cleaned off his nightstand and left it there. 

He just turned seven.  I was really not expecting this sort of thing so early.  I mean, he's very mature in most ways.  I know, I know, I sound like a mom.  But he is a weird kid in his social maturity.  A friend of ours ate with him in the cafeteria the other day and said he's someone she'd love to just take to lunch and talk to.  While her kid is picking his nose and giggling, mine is saying things like, "So, Ryan, I was wondering...what would you like to be when you grow up?"  The combination of his interest and his social skills concern me a great deal.  There's no stopping it now. 

 

Current Obsessions

In no particular order...

1. La Croix Orange Water-Bubbly but not sweetened.  I despise sweetened water.  That fake sweetener taste makes me want to puke.  But this makes me feel like I'm drinking a soda only with no guilt.  I like the bubbles.

2. Portobello Mushrooms-This is my new go-to meal.  2 Huge mushrooms (scoop out all the gross mushroom underside stuff), load up with fresh spinach and feta cheese, pop in the oven for like 20 minutes.  That's it.  So easy and yummy.

3. My iPhone-We are officially an all Mac family now I guess.  I admit, I have some problems with it which I will detail in another post, but I do love it.  My whole life is now in this phone.  My finances, my calendar, my contacts, my new years "get hot in 2009" tracking, my blog, my photos, my music, my job, my grocery list, my facebook, lists...all of it.

4.  Green Chai Tea-The best of all worlds for me.  I'm drinking it every night now in lieu of dessert.

5. Clementines-My kids are going through them like candy.  I use them every day as bribes for putting laundry away, for cleaning up the playroom, and as dessert two night a week. 

6. Walking BoyChild Home From the Bustop-I love seeing him get off the bus and running to me.  Holding hands down the hill to our house, setting him up with a snack and a drink while he does his homework and I unload the dishwasher or water the plants.  Love it.

7. The Fireplace- I probably have a fire going more often than I should but I cant help it.  In summertime, I love opening all the windows and doors and feeling it way past the point of summer heat.  And in winter, I love a fire in the house.  Many evenings, I sit with the kids on a pile of pillows on the floor in front of the hearth and hang out right there.

8.  My front porch-Again, this is another thing I have missed out on not being home.  Our last house had a front porch and when I was home with the kids, I spent basically every single day on it.  I used to put GirlChild in the pack-n-play as I did yard work, planted flowers and pulled weeds all day.  I used to sit out there and read the mail as the kids napped.  Or, I'd sit outside and gab on the phone.  In this house, it's even better because we have an upstairs front porch and a downstairs one and they are both a lot bigger than before and loads more comfortable.  We live in a neighborhood of very traditional style homes all with front porches. So these days, unless it's freezing, I am out there writing or reading or just hanging out in the sunshine.

9. My Neighborhood Gym- So as I mentioned, I am determined to stop being a fat ass this year.  To achieve this daunting goal, I have been spending some time at our little workout room in our neighborhood.  I've always gone to a big fitness center type facility to work out.  You know, lots of TVs and tons of machines and beautiful people to make me feel bad about myself.  But seeing as how I no longer earn a salary and this is free (thanks to my outrageous neighborhood association fees), I decided to give it a try.  And it's perfect.  There's rarely anyone in there so I have the run of the place in the middle of the day.  It has everything I need plus a big sunlit yoga studio to hang out and stretch in.  It's open 24/7 and it's safe and easy to get to.  The good news is that I've actually managed to stick with going there and I haven't missed the loud pumping music from the other gym at all. 

10. Cooking-And yet another thing I've gotten back into since being home.  It's been so fun to sit down and figure out what's for dinner and then to have time to run to the grocery store and to actually have time to cook it.  I know, I know.  It seems simple.  But for awhile now, a lot of the cooking duties have gone to my husband.  Don't get me wrong, he's an amazing cook.  He is amazing in the kitchen and loves food like I do.  But he's also a great eater and fun to cook for because he'll try anything.  So all last week, he actually came home to (gasp!) dinner ready and a clean house.

Yes, I realize that I am sounding like a total Stepford Wife here, but I can't help it.  I am digging this so far. 

Day Four

So far, so good.  I could totally get used to this new gig.

The children went back to school this week and Drew went back to work.  So this has been my first real week of SAHMdom since Fall 2006.  It's like riding a bike, really.  I have managed to find my way back to yoga pants and the daily pony tail with great ease.  Only this time, it's like having a much better bike.

My work sitch has gotten a bit more complicated.  None of that has been as black and white as I was anticipating.  Basically, I wasn't laid off although it sort of seemed that way.  Instead, I was converted to a contract employee.  So work didn't exactly just disappear.  instead, I am still checking in regularly, checking voice mail, checking email.  It all comes through on my iphone all day long and, mostly feels like kind of an interruption to my day.

I certainly have the option of calling them up and saying "thanks, but no thanks" and just be done with it.  But I don't want to do that either.  Just because I'm not earning a salary, I have the opportunity to continue working and earn more commission on the placements I make.  I'd like to keep that option open.  No sense in burning bridges.  Plus, with the current state of the economy, I think they are sort of counting on me to do that.  What I can't commit to is 50 hours a work each week for no money.

They see this as a temporary arrangement.  As soon as the economy picks back up and agencies are hiring again, they intend to get everyone back to salaried jobs and everything proceeds as it did before.  The thing is, I'm not really interested in that.  This thing with work has allowed me to step back and take a look at what our life has been like for the past two years.  It has been barely managed chaos.  I knew it all along, but it has become abundantly clear with a bit more perspective.

My husband has been a champ about stepping up to fill in the gaps, but I am not married to a multi-tasker.  He'd readily admit to that.  His mind works in a completely linear fashion.  He starts one thing and continues with that until it's done.  Then he starts something else.  That means that a lot has fallen through the cracks.  We've been walking in the door with the kids trying to cram hours of stuff into the space on an hour and a half.  And important things get lost-dinner and catching up and reading and baths and snuggle time and all of it just can't be done if they are to actually get enough sleep so their little bodies aren't dragging all day.

Just this week, I've been able to get BoyChild from the bustop each day and do activities with him.  I can set him up with an apple and watch him do his homework.  He has clean clothes in his drawer each morning.  We can go to the playground and run and swing and I have time to hear about his day.  GirlChild can have her hair braided in the morning and there's time for her to sit on my lap and let me hold her silently for thirty minutes which is what she loves (me too).  These little things sound so obvious and mundane, but unless it was the weekend, they weren't happening much.  Most of my time was spent telling them to "hurry up" or "spit spot."  I am working on eliminating those phrases from my vocabulary unless completely necessary.

So even if my boss called me tomorrow and said, "Ok, never mind.  Come back and we'll pay you and it will all be like before," I would not be interested.  This is where I need to be. 

But after some back and forth with her, some conversations with Drew and much thought, I have decided to go into the office one day a week.  This will allow me to keep my foot in the door, to not feel guilty about what I'm not doing at home, to check in with my colleagues occasionally , and still use my brain a bit.  I'll wait until traffic dies down so it takes me a half an hour to get there instead of an hour and a half.  And since I'm contract, I can leave whenever I want to.  Drew can work from home those days so there's no difference in gas money or childcare. 

I'm hoping this will be the balance I've been craving.  Maybe. 

And the other days of the week, I am managing this house and this family, which I really think I'm good at.  I have been working out every day and eating clean.  I swear, this is gonna be the year I get hot.  The phone guy is coming out tomorrow to hook up our wireless Internet connection.  I have been on the phone with the insurance companies and our investment guy and have been calling moms to arrange play dates with BoyChild's friends.  I have sewn on his cub scout badges and am caught up on laundry.   I know, I know.  Yawn.  But it's this kind of stuff that totally gets me off. 

Scary Stuff

This was the first year that BoyChild requested to be something scary.  Mission accomplished, I think. 

I spent a month convincing GirlChild that a ladybug was THE costume of the season.  Who wants to be a boring ole princess or fairy like every other four year old girl?  That's not unique.  But a ladybug.  Now, that is special.  Oh, and I had already bought the costume and didn't have to sew anything.

 

A Little Help

For almost a month, I have been trying to schedule a life-changing event.  I have hired a woman to clean my house.  I have to say, I'm slightly embarrassed at the entire prospect.  but I'm following through with it.  And really, I am so excited, I can hardly even stand it.

It has taken a month because some people really don't understand how email works.  This makes me crazy. I tried calling this chick who runs the cleaning service and left her a message.  After getting no call back, I emailed her saying, "Hey, I need someone to clean my house on Fridays so call me back and let's work it out."  She called me back three days later saying, "Call me back," with no other information.  I call her back within like 5 minutes and get her voicemail.  So, I leave her another message saying I would detail it in an email.  Then I send her an elaborate email with my address and what I want and when I'm available and AGAIN, I get an email saying she'll try to call me so we can work it out. 

As a side note, if I leave you a message with a question and ask you to leave the answer on my voicemail or email, don't reply with, "Hi, I'm returning your call."  Just answer my question, please. 

Well, she finally showed up last week and we walked through my house and she wiped her finger on lots of surfaces and I said lots of times, "Yeah, that?  That's probably dirty since I never clean it."  She asked me what I use on the hardwood floors.  Uh, nothing.  How do I usually clean the curtains?  Am I supposed to clean them?  Wow, news to me. 

They are sending a team on Saturday morning to get it in tip-top shape and then will arrive on Fridays to keep us in working order.  The thought is a bit strange, that someone will be changing my beds and cleaning my shower.  My dad once got my mother a cleaning woman when I was younger which lasted all of 2 weeks.  She would clean up before the woman arrived and finally concluded that having a woman clean your house was a lot of extra work.  I'm trying to resist that temptation.  In fact, I'm sort of making some extra messes.  Well, not really, but not cleaning up stuff I normally would because I know they are coming.  Is that wrong?  I have a six year old son and a bathroom to prove it.  That's all I'm saying.

I don't know why it seems so odd to me or feels really indulgent.  I guess part of it is that paying for services like this means I can't handle them myself.  I also started paying the neighbor kid to mow the lawn.  I feel like ALL we do on weekends is maintain our estate.  Once I get the North Wing in some order, the South Wing is in disarray.  The West Garden is lovely and manicured while the East Garden is a jungle.  There are days when our 2 bedroom apartment in Seattle is sounding pretty damn good.

I am evolving, though. In the space of just 4 years I have gone from someone who (seriously) thought I'd homeschool my children, grow some of our own food, maintain home and hearth, sew everyone's Halloween costumes, cut everyone's hair myself, grow a lovely flower garden, and look really great doing it all. Now I'm basically, paying someone to do all of that for me because looking great doing it is way more challenging than I anticipated.  And I look better when I'm NOT doing it.

50 Years From Now

My parents live in a retirement community in Florida.  Not just any retirement community, but kind of The Shit when it comes to The Golden Years.  You might have seen the commercials.  I can't wait to move there in twenty years.  That, by the way, being almost the same number of years since I graduated from high school.  How depressing.

Anywho-before I went back to work and the kids started school, I used to drive down there and visit them several times a year.  Some summers, I'd go down there for two weeks at a time.  It was truly the only place I felt like I ever got a break.  For two solid weeks, my mother would cook for me.  She doesn't just cook, she is this artist with food.  Paella and spanish rice or fried chicken and fried green tomatoes and garlic mashed potatoes or homemade donuts for breakfast.  Seriously.  Every day. 

I'd get to go get my hair cut while they watched the kids.  I'd get to go see a movie by myself after the kids were down.  If someone got cranky, my dad would offer to take them on a golf cart ride to feed the ducks and pick up the mail.  I got to lounge by the pool and read magazines and take naps and watch some stupid morning talk show if I wanted to. 

Don't get me wrong, it was hard work.  I mean, in a house not childproofed where everyone's schedule was screwed up and I had to share a room with the kids and was still changing diapers, it was tough.  But it was so worth it to be up all night to have some daylight hours feeling like I was cared for with no guilt that I wasn't cleaning out a closet or scrap booking.  Home was far away.

The other thing these visits allowed me to do was to watch them, my parents.  They have been married for 35 years.  My mom and my step father were married when I was 2 1/2 years old and I'm not sure I paid much attention to their relationship growing up.  I have become more aware of it since I've been married--the dance they do and who plays what role.

This latest visit was different for me.  My life has changed considerably since I went back to work in 2007 and then BoyChild started kindergarten.  I no longer feel the pressing need I used to feel to escape or find some reminder of who I really am.  Sometimes I do, but not nearly as frantically or as often.  I only had GirlChild with me on this visit and she's potty trained now and pretty independent.  The days of tearily asking my mom if she could take her for an hour so I could take a shower are long over.  It was a nice visit, but this time allowed for too much free time to think too much, to observe their interactions too much, probably.

My mother asking my dad why he turned that way and not the other way.  Him reminding her that he's driving and not her.  The way she seeks approval in so many ways and how exhausting it is.  Yes, Mom, I love the salad.  You've asked me three times and I keep telling you. The way she looks forward to something and then complains about it.  Either don't do it or do it happily.  No one wants to hear you go through the motions.  Okay, so it struck a nerve.  Can't imagine why. 

We were sitting in the town square one night eating ice cream on the pier looking over the water.  The band was playing in the background and I was watching all these old couples interact and dance and laugh.  People who have been married for 50 yers, some of them.  And they still decide on a Monday night to go get ice cream together and get up and dance.  They are still laughing and talking.  I'm sure they argue like the rest of us, but still.  It's so hopeful.  They appreciate what they have somehow.  They are no longer sexy or beautiful.  Many have serious health issues.  But still, there they are.  I don't know, it just gave me a sense of perspective.  The little things that I think are so big right now, I will not even remember in 5 years or 10 years, and especially not in 50 years.  I wish I could spend more time focused on the things that will matter when I'm gumming my ice cream at age 85.

On a side note, my mom told me there has been a huge outbreak of VD down there, courtesy of Viagra.  Lots of widowed folks looking for some action.  Man, would it suck to get herpes at age 70 or what?