What happened to my blues?

Yesterday was one of my melancholy days. I wrote for a while and reflected on the ways my view of the blues has changed over the years. I came up with some pretty good insights for myself and I think I wrote them fairly eloquently. I even found this beautiful picture, which illustrates my melancholy quite accurately. You'll notice that none of that is here ...



blogger was not behaving yesterday so I couldn't get the text to save. Then, while I was on another website trying to find answers, my page disappeared. I'm not sure if blogger gave up on me or whether my subconscious hit a button. Either way, the thoughts are gone out into the abyss.

I hope you enjoy the picture and that you enjoy a restful weekend, full of things that bring deep peace.

3.14 and so forth

This morning Stan put on his pi shirt and I said "maybe I should make a pie." [side note: Stan's reply was "make it square and we can say πr²." We're so geeky.] None of the kids were up yet so I'm pretty sure we weren't overheard. Fast forward a few hours and Puddin' is playing with the plastic food in her grocery cart. She turned a purple star into a "hot chocolate pie cake." Hmmmm. & Mmmmm. The spirit of pi/pie has entered our home and will not leave until we have offered and eaten sacrifices. Now comes the big decision - chocolate or berry?

The picture, by the way, is from last summer. I bought a carton of pie cherries from a farmer's market on a whim and then whipped up a recipe of my own. It was the first pie I'd ever made completely from scratch. It was mighty tasty and I was darn proud. That was the moment I converted to the holy order of pie. All hail the almighty π.

postscript: I finally settled on a chocolate banana pudding pie with graham cracker crust.

Growth Spurts

Mama: Puddin', you're such a big girl.
Puddin': No, I not.
Mama: You're not? What are you?
Puddin': I just Puddin'.

Puddin' is growing up fast, just as toddlers normally do. Stan and I feel pretty confident in our ability to deal with this. The other two, however, are a different story.

We recently moved Monkey up to the next size in jeans and Peanut isn't far behind. Both of them are to shopping at the same shoe stores I do. And they're hitting new emotional milestones too. They've outgrown most of our child-rearing knowledge so Stan and I need to go back to school.

Do you know any good books on the emotional/social development of preteens? What are your favorite parenting resources?

Ready to Run

Puddin' has discovered a new game: on our walks to and from the school she calls out "run please" and we all run (at a toddler pace.) Then when she's ready she calls out "walk please" and we diligently comply. She's also excitedly practicing stairs on her own and climbing much more than before. She wants to take the long route, preferably the one that I'm not taking. This is all very good news.

Puddin' is over-the-top verbal. She can say pretty much anything she thinks of - and she thinks of a lot of things. Her gross motor skills have been quite lacking, however. She hasn't shown much interest in exploring, climbing, dancing, jumping, or any other toddler movements. She'd gladly talk about them and even sing you a song about them. She'll sit and read many books about such joys. Now she's starting to finally take some risks.

It's a big mental shift for me to change the way I interact with Puddin'. We do lots of verbal things, obviously, and much of my day she and I putter with our projects in parallel. To get her the kind of space and freedom she needs I have to choose different spaces and actions. (Somehow it no longer seems fair to put her in the stroller while I run.) I'm trying hard to balance the various needs but Puddin' is still yearning for more space and stimulation.

While I work on solutions, my own body is crying out for space and stimulation too. The weather is gorgeous. There's more light. After months of being stuck inside with annoying exercise dvds I can finally do exercise in ways that feel more fulfilling and natural to me. I'm not sure how to get enough time to do all that for both me and the littlest darling. I'm worried that by the time I come up with the solution the weather will have turned sweaty and sour. In the meantime, I'm learning to love Puddin's little game. It's not great exertion but she's a very fun exercise buddy.

Dada on airplane

Stan is on the other coast this week. After seeing him off at the airport earlier today, Puddin' and I had a mostly uneventful day. We laughed and played and read books, with only a few minor meltdowns. After her bath, Puddin' resisted going to bed, screaming loud and long. When I went in to check on her I asked if she was sad. "Yeah. I sad because I so sad." "Do you miss the rest of the family?" "Dada on airplane. Not here." We took a minute to pray for Stan, for Puddin', and for Monkey & Peanut who are at their mom's this weekend. Afterwards, Puddin' lay down and asked me to tuck her blanket around her. I wish I could be comforted by something so simple.


I'm single-mom this week, which has me a tad bit stressed. This weekend I just have Puddin' to distract me. Then on Monday, Monkey & Peanut come back to our house and we go back to the usual weekly pattern. On a normal day, I race through all the kid and house stuff and then Stan gets home just about the time my energy (or patience, or sanity) is about to run out. The kids run to greet him, he rushes to kiss me, and everything turns out just fine. I'm really going to miss those kisses.


Mostly likely things will still be just fine - we've got strong relationships and good routines here - but something is missing when Stan's not here. He's steady and strong. He keeps his cool long after I've run out of steam. He sees humor even when things aren't going according to plan. If only he didn't have to go away I think I could handle this situation just fine.

Hope it's a great trip, honey, but hurry home.

Normal

Stan is headed off to the West Coast for business soon. When he travels we usually offer Monkey & Peanut's mom extra time with them. (I don't mind caring for them alone so it's mostly for courtesy.) It took a while for her to respond to the offer so I found myself running through possible scenarios of what the week could look like for me.

While custody for the near future was still in limbo, I had reason to plan an emergency trip down South. My grandmother had a serious stroke and was initially given very little chance of recovery. The cousins are scattered around the globe and we each made plans to get back to the homestead as quickly as possible. Granny is doing better than expected, though, and might stabilize. The trip plans are ready to initiate at a moment's notice but on hold. Meanwhile, Monkey & Peanut's mom has decided not to take any extra time during Stan's upcoming trip. After facing so many possible changes to the routine, I'm going forward with business as usual.

Normal has returned. In one sense I'm enjoying it. I like knowing what to expect and how to organize my day and week. All three girls thrive when their environment is stable so there's great benefit to keeping things the same. On the other hand, I was looking forward to a change and some possible adventure. Granny isn't out of the woods so the trip South could still happen. Even under sad circumstances there would be great joy in seeing everyone again. And if Granny passes while Stan is out of town there's a whole other layer of adventure - road trip with all three girls and fights with the government travel office to get Stan where he needs to be.

The fact that we're in normal mode when there are things up in the air shows just how illusory "normal" is. There's always the chance of unexpected. We can never really know how to organize the days. I find great comfort in that illusion. And at the same time, I find promise in the possibility that things will not go the way I imagine.

Gifts

We have a lot of birthdays and an anniversary coming up in the next month so we're thinking a lot about gifts. One of those birthdays happens to be mine and I'm often the one organizing the gifts. Monkey sat before me one day quiet, with a wrinkled brow, and finally managed to say that she just didn't know how she would get me a present for my birthday. I explained to her that what I most want is time with her. I want to have fun together, play games, talk, and enjoy each other.

I'm pretty satisfied with my number of possessions and there are very few things I desire. (If anything, I need to purge.) There are lots of non-things I desire, though. I want to be known and accepted. I want to be worth noticing. I long for more time with people that I love. And for one day each year, I want the world to revolve around me (but I'm willing to share with other folks who share my birthday.) Rather than have folks spend their money on me, I'd much rather they spend their time. Then again, time is such a precious commodity, am I really willing to ask folks to part with that costly a gift?

This week I ended up with more Monkey & Peanut time than usual. I tried to think of that time in the same terms as the good gift of time that I desire. Their mom got sick so they missed their usual weeknight with her. They were frustrated, angry, disappointed, and threw their feelings in my direction. Their dad had a busy week with evenings out of the house. They were confused, worried and lonely. They vented at me. We had lots of time but because they were missing time with the most beloved people in their lives, we weren't able to find much joy together. We had time but not a whole lot of love.

We've got a big family weekend of togetherness coming up. I have grand visions of snuggling on the couch, playing boardgames, art projects, and lots of other ways to spend happy time together. I value time so highly that I often assume it alone can fix just about anything. I'm slowly coming to terms with the fact that this isn't true. Time without deep love feels like empty space.

I can ask people for their time. It's a measurable commodity that can be divided up and doled out, or not. I don't think I can ask people for their love though. Maybe I should just stick to flowers.