Sick Mama Blues

She's got a fever
and a raspy cough.
Her family did leave her
but there's no day off.

No preschool panties
means she must wash and fold.
The bunnies all roam free,
dust uncontrolled

Who's gonna help out?
She's got the sick mama blues.


This ain't no play date,
an uncommon cold.
She just wants to sleep late
let them do as they're told.

Nature class has let out,
we missed all the fun.
Can't quite stand up right,
but got errands to run.

There's no rest for the weary.
She's got the sick mama blues.

Went out to the food store,
exhausted but done.
Other trips cancelled,
she moves for no one.

Back from the doctor,
infection for sure.
It's not pneumonia,
and drugs bring a cure.

Thank god, hallelujah!
Goodbye sick mama blues.

Wide Open Outer Petals

Once upon a time, back in my college days, some friends and I were sitting around being deep. We sat in an urban garden, looking at early signs of spring while wrapped up tight against the New England cold. We took turns sharing what we found revealed in the world around us. That kind of introspection isn't as easy anymore, what with the noise and the busyness of family life, but the insight of that day still comes back to me each spring.

What I saw that day was a daffodil. The warm colors draw me in and invite me to stop. The wide open petals of the outer layer hold arms wide open, calling out a welcome to anyone and everyone. The closed inner layer adds complexity, privacy, and a space set apart.

Over the past few months, I've been almost silent in the social media world. I've withdrawn from all networks and kept all my words to myself. It turns out that books are far more interesting than Facebook and that there's a lot of navel-gazing on web 2.0 that I just don't care about. In addition, there's been some rough stuff in our family over the past few months that made privacy feel important. In the midst of the current online privacy hullaballoo, social media was a risk I wasn't willing to take, so I closed my outer petals.

Meanwhile, spring has sprung. Daffodils are blooming all over our neighborhood. At our house, we transplanted over 200 daffodil sprouts from their overcrowded spot on the fence line to spacious new homes in garden beds around the yard. I've watched our plants closely, looking for signs that the growing bulbs have all they need to thrive. Most won't bloom this year since they didn't get enough sun last year to store energy. A hearty few, though, have buds. Despite my expectations, our daffodils are blooming.

Recently, I shared with not-so-close friends about a struggle I've been having and found that my openness led to a deeper friendship. Open petals invited connection, sharing, and understanding. I knew this. I've known this for years. Open petals bring nurishment to the inner soul.

So here I am, back online. I still don't know how to navigate the ever-changing world of online privacy but I know that its worthwhile.

From the mouth of preschoolers

Puddin's song of the moment: "A big daddy and a short mama."

I have no idea what the rest of the lyrics are since she went to mumbles and hums after that. It must be a work in progress. I also have no idea what prompted the song at this particular time. I know that she does speak truth, however. Notice in the picture here that my feet are barely touching the ground and yet Stan's knees are bent past 90˚.

On a different note, Stan and I should have our picture taken together more often. I had to go back to last summer to find anything with both of us in it that didn't center around children. Seeing this, I'm longing for summer and vacation and time to enjoy life with my darling dear. The busyness of spring is wearing me out.

Bundled in Boston

 Last weekend our family trekked to Boston to watch our friend run the marathon. I spent many Patriot's days watching and cheering during my years in Beantown and it was great fun to share the experience with my family.

We stayed with our dear friend Brie, who should win a Hostess of the Year prize in addition to her many accolades as an all around fabulous person. She even taught Monkey & Peanut how to crochet. Thanks Brie!

We found a great spot to cheer the runners on, not long after Heartbreak Hill. Monkey & Puddin' were reluctant at first but with a little coaching got into the spirit of it. They enjoyed being loud but even more so, they enjoyed seeing the difference their cheering made on the runners.

Puddin' had a harder time. She was overwhelmed by the noise and commotion. She reluctantly cheered a little for this picture but mostly just wanted to be held, sheltered from the masses around her. This week, however, she's reliving some of those moments. Puddin' started a marathon game where we take turns running and cheering each other on.

Here's our friend Bob, in the lime green shirt. Wahoooo!

After a yummy late lunch (scrumptious Thai from Brown Sugar Cafe) we headed over to Harvard Square for treats. Peet's coffee for me, Burdicks chocolate for the rest. Here's Stan checking out the menu with Puddin' and Monkey. They all thoroughly enjoyed their choices, and I'm still basking in the coffee glory with Garuda blend that Brie sent home.

With the whole gang in tow, I didn't get the chance to visit with as many friends as I would have liked. But I'm very grateful for the time I did have. Thanks especially to Jess, John & Sophia for changing your schedule to come have dinner with us. I got to have one of my favorite dishes with one of my favorite people.

Thanks also to Misch and Tara for letting me crash the baby shower. It was great to celebrate with you and be part of the baby phases in your lives.

We did a family photo shoot at the BU beach, the largest plot of grass on my alma mater. (although, BU wasn't very nourishing for me so the title must be said with tongue planted in cheek.) I love how the kids personalities show up in each photo.

A big thanks to Bill, who helped Bob, his family, and a few runner friends find a fabulous and cheap place to stay for the weekend. Bill, who already had a place in my heart, took wonderful care of my friends and went out of his way to be generous to people he had never met. This guy is a testament to the love and grace of God and I'm blessed to know him.

Taking Monkey & Peanut was a last minute change to our plans but I'm so glad it turned out that way. We had a great time sight-seeing, eating, cheering, and riding the T. I'm so grateful to the friends who helped me share my former city with my family. And I'm grateful to Stan for tolerating the cold & drizzle: next vacation will be warm, I promise.

Circles of Influence

This week has been spring break at our house. We got back from a road trip to Boston and the next day the kids were a little at a loss without masses of extra stimulation. At the first complaint I sent Monkey outside with a list of things to find: different species of birds, trees, mammals, & flowers. Peanut hurriedly grabbed a clipboard and went to join her sister. Together they marched around the yard and then up and down our street. They came back with pictures and written descriptions of all they had seen.

Before they could switch modes I handed them a large beaded necklace and told them to spread it out as a circle somewhere in the yard. Their assignment, after Monkey calculated the area, was to list all forms of life they found within their circle. Puddin' just HAD to have a circle too so they all ran off with their magnifying glasses to work on their assignment together.

Later I mentioned something to Monkey about science time and it took her a few moments to figure out what I was talking about. It seems the kids consider this kind of thing completely normal, which this nerdy mama finds wonderfully comforting.

Notes on Springtime

I dropped off a bill at the post office and suddenly an urgent voice came from the back seat.

"Can we go home and get my notes to put in the box?"
"What notes, smoochy?"
"The ones I have."

Puddin' insisted she had notes that must be mailed immediately. I convinced her that we could wait a little while to post her notes - especially if she went home and made some more. Puddin' instantly agreed and decided she would make a "lellow" note for Grandmama with flowers, pretty yellow flowers from her garden. (The nearly 3 year-old remembers planting in her grandmother's garden just once almost a year ago.)

We gathered pretty paper scraps, glue, stamps, ink and set to work. Puddin' glued & stamped, colored & sorted until she ran out of stuff. By the end I had a proud Puddin' and a plethora of springy, flowery notes to brighten the days of a few of her people. Making them was the pick-me-up I needed this cold & dreary week. Spring is indeed coming. It's only a matter of time.

Happy Spring! Love, Puddin' (& Mama)

Treasure Hunting

We're spending the long weekend cleaning out the workshop in our basement. It's supposed to be a utilitarian room for laundry, exercise, the tool bench, etc. Instead, it's a pile of accumulated clutter. Not the memories the weekend was created for but we can't replace the leaking water heater until we've made a path.

Much of the debris is from the years Stan was in the house before I came along. Tokens from his childhood and college years are mixed in with old cleaning and lawn care products. There are a number of boxes belonging to his ex-wife that we haven't yet managed to get her to take. These are not the giddiest memories to wade through.

Still, I love organizing. I love getting rid of clutter. It's wonderfully cathartic and the finished product is often dramatic. I consider a well-planned and organized room to be a thing of great beauty, even when there's a water heater in the background. Who knows, we may even end up on Antiques Roadshow.

Pruning

I am not a trained gardener. I have no skills to speak of and I'm usually pretty giddy when my plants don't die. I have great gardening heritage, though. Both my grandmothers kept beautiful gardens and could make just about anything blossom. I sometimes lean on that heritage and go with my gut. I throw seed in random places. I mix things willy-nilly. I rip up stuff I don’t like. As our yard currently shows, Chance doesn’t generally turn out very good results.

Stan's mom is also a fabulous gardener. Unlike me, Stan learned how to garden. He knows the right things to do to keep our plants in good shape long term. He understands which plants will fare will in our space. And what he doesn't already know he's patient enough to research. That's probably the biggest difference right there: patience. I want to go out and make beauty happen; Stan wants to cultivate it. Most of what looks good in our yard is a result of Stan’s hard work.

This week Chance did a little extra work in our yard. I walked out to the backyard this morning and found an extra bush blocking my path. On closer examination, it turned out to be a very large, very leafy tree branch. We’ve had some wind gusts and apparently one was big enough to take down a healthy limb from our tree. It’s a robust tree so losing one limb isn’t likely to have an impact, and the limb missed the house. So far, it’s a pretty neutral affair.

I had trouble moving the big bushy thing and realized that the fallen limb had gotten entangled with the rhododendron. Uh oh. The rhododendron is not our healthiest bush. It’s gotten bashed by fallen branches a few times and has struggled to come back. I’m rooting hard for the little darling so I was quite concerned. I reached in to gently pry fallen limb from the bush and found two newly broken rhododendron branches. Both branches were previously hit and had been struggling to regain life. Previously they seemed to be winning the slow battle so I wasn’t willing to prune them, even though I knew I should. Here, in one swift move, Chance did the pruning I couldn’t bring myself to do.

Our yard has a smaller, but much healthier rhododendron and I have another reason to continue my haphazard gardening ways. I’m going to really enjoy those blooms.

Chariot Gypsy

Last weekend was far too busy, just like most of the school year. On Tuesday I took a day off. I didn't leave my house all day and I didn't clean or straighten a darn thing.

I started my day outside with small bits of gardening. I potted some plants folks have given us over the past two years. [We really can be trusted with plants, I promise! and we're much better at tending to the kids.] I went after a few weeds. I put up a rock border on the flower bed. Then I attacked the ivy that has been choking our rhododendron and crowding my periwinkle. It felt amazingly good to bring order to my yard, and to put boundaries on my world. (It would be even more wonderful to do that with my internal world but I'll take the progress where I can get it.)

Around 5:00 I decided I was done. I grabbed a glass of wine for myself and a sippy cup of juice for Puddin'. Puddin' happily dug in her dirt pile and drew with chalk. I listened to the birds and reveled in the breeze. We rolled in the grass, played hop-scotch, blew bubbles, and did other giggly things. It was a wonderfully clear and relaxing afternoon. This wine perfectly matched the atmosphere.

Chariot Gypsy 2008 has plenty of jammy fruit, but is not overpoweringly sweet. Think dark cherry with hints of strawberry, very little wood or mineral flavor. It's tannic but not uncomfortably so. The alcohol content was a little high for the adult in charge but I sipped slowly and didn't operate any heavy machinery.

Stan came home to find us still on the carport sipping our drinks, with evidence of our relaxation strewn all around us. He grabbed a drink of his own and sat down to join us. A huge point in Gypsy's favor is that Stan didn't get a headache.

You can find your own bottle for about $5 at Trader Joe's. If you don't have a Trader Joe's, consider moving - or come to visit me since I'll be stocking up for the summer.

[For the record, I recently went on a cheap-wine-buying binge at Trader Joe's. You'll probably be hearing about a lot of these wines. It's hard to find cheap bottles with personality that don't give headaches. TJ's is the best source I know. Don't tell them though - I wouldn't want them to get a big head.]