Jake and I bid a sad adios today to Patricia, the phenomenally sweet woman who has looked after him at the gym. She and her toddler daughter are returning to her home in Bolivia, to be reunited with her 12 year old son, whom she has not seen in 6 years. I'm thrilled for her, but of course also wish she could stay. Jake is going to be doubly devastated when we go back to the gym on Monday -- no Miss Patricia, and, most likely, no more cake. (Twice this week, he has benefitted from sweet farewells, leading to his announcing throughout the day, "I eat cake at my gym!")
Although she doesn't read this blog, I'm sending out a sincere thank you into the ether, and hoping she knows just how much she's meant to Jake and me. Adios, amiga!
Friday, September 28, 2007
Staccato
I've always liked jazz, but never quite understood how it works. I love the funky off-beats, the sense that you can never know for sure where the music is going, because at any moment, it could make a u-turn. Need a quick pick-me-up? Give me Dexter Gordon's "Go" or Miles Davis' "Chocolate Chip" any day.
I've found myself thinking about this as I've been trying to get into the rhythm of this new school year. I hope that at some point, the routine will become, well, routine, and I will stop having mini-panic attacks throughout the day, fearful that I've forgotten to get somebody somewhere.
I suspect, 'though, that I simply need to let go and accept the staccato nature of my life. It's time to find the beauty and the inspiration in the fits and starts, the ups and downs, the back and forths of each day. No Venetian waltzes for me, and really, isn't that just as well?
I've found myself thinking about this as I've been trying to get into the rhythm of this new school year. I hope that at some point, the routine will become, well, routine, and I will stop having mini-panic attacks throughout the day, fearful that I've forgotten to get somebody somewhere.
I suspect, 'though, that I simply need to let go and accept the staccato nature of my life. It's time to find the beauty and the inspiration in the fits and starts, the ups and downs, the back and forths of each day. No Venetian waltzes for me, and really, isn't that just as well?
Friday, September 21, 2007
Let's Do the Time Warp Again!
It's been a back to the future kind of week. OJ Simpson is back in the news. Howard Jones (!) is playing at the Birchmere soon. And I ate lunch in an elementary school cafeteria for the first time in nearly 30 years. (Boy was that painful to type.)
I joined Abby for lunch on Tuesday and was amazed by how much -- and how little -- school lunch has changed. The lunch ladies -- and gentlemen, to be fair -- seem about the same. The food is quite similar, but there are soooooo many choices! When I was in elementary school, each day every single tray looked the same. You picked yours up, full of food, at the end of the line. Today, the kids have options, man. Three entrees, multiple sides, salads, desserts -- it's like eating at Sizzler or something.
There is no more paying with cash, or even the quaint little punchcards that I had in high school. Nope, now there's a debit account, complete with a PIN number for the little darlings to learn. (Note to those who enjoy irony -- parents have been besieged with pleas from the school to have Johnny and Jane memorize their PIN number and, above all, NOT to share it with anyone. However, at lunch time, all the kids in Abby's class marched into the cafeteria wearing tags with their PIN numbers in about 75 point font...)
The real fun was getting to hang out with Abby and some of her classmates. There was the class clown who rarely stopped talking, a couple of very shy girls, and a few boys who would speak only if spoken to. They were fun and silly and seemed genuinely glad to have me at their table. Abby held my hand, talked to me, and didn't want me to leave. I wonder how long that will last!
Later in the week, we attended Back to School Night. The Principal now addresses the parents via live TV-broadcast and overhead projectors have been replaced by Power Point presentations. But the room is basically the same as I remember from my childhood -- with the reading/listening center, play areas, a big calendar and gathering space, etc. Some things will never change. And that, as far as I'm concerned, is a very good thing.
I joined Abby for lunch on Tuesday and was amazed by how much -- and how little -- school lunch has changed. The lunch ladies -- and gentlemen, to be fair -- seem about the same. The food is quite similar, but there are soooooo many choices! When I was in elementary school, each day every single tray looked the same. You picked yours up, full of food, at the end of the line. Today, the kids have options, man. Three entrees, multiple sides, salads, desserts -- it's like eating at Sizzler or something.
There is no more paying with cash, or even the quaint little punchcards that I had in high school. Nope, now there's a debit account, complete with a PIN number for the little darlings to learn. (Note to those who enjoy irony -- parents have been besieged with pleas from the school to have Johnny and Jane memorize their PIN number and, above all, NOT to share it with anyone. However, at lunch time, all the kids in Abby's class marched into the cafeteria wearing tags with their PIN numbers in about 75 point font...)
The real fun was getting to hang out with Abby and some of her classmates. There was the class clown who rarely stopped talking, a couple of very shy girls, and a few boys who would speak only if spoken to. They were fun and silly and seemed genuinely glad to have me at their table. Abby held my hand, talked to me, and didn't want me to leave. I wonder how long that will last!
Later in the week, we attended Back to School Night. The Principal now addresses the parents via live TV-broadcast and overhead projectors have been replaced by Power Point presentations. But the room is basically the same as I remember from my childhood -- with the reading/listening center, play areas, a big calendar and gathering space, etc. Some things will never change. And that, as far as I'm concerned, is a very good thing.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Settling in.
It's been a topsy-turvy week. Abby started kindergarten on Tuesday and my husband is out of town until Sunday. Lots of changes to our "normal" routine, and a huge array of emotions to cope with. Tuesday afternoon brought a huge panic attack when Abby failed to get off the bus with all the other kids at our bus stop. I started calling her name somewhat hysterically, and up she popped out of a seat. She was sitting on the opposite side of the bus from the morning, and just didn't recognize the stop. But I won't soon forget the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach when I thought she was lost. Egads.
Yesterday was better. Jake and I went raspberry picking with friends in the morning, and then I used his nap time to get some planting and other yard work done. I felt more at peace than I had the previous day, and Abby hopped right off the bus at the end of the day.
On Day 3, I find myself settling in. We're all adjusting to the new rhythms, getting used to the combination of new freedoms and new responsibilities. I'm starting to truly enjoy the quiet time in the afternoon when Jake naps and Abby is still at school. Abby is deliriously happy and announces to anyone who will listen, "I love kindergarten!" I'm coming to terms with the fact that she is growing up, but find myself holding Jake even tighter, willing him to remain my "baby" for as long as possible.
I feel as though my husband has missed a huge transition in our family's life, and I worry a bit about how we'll plug him in when he returns. Our days have changed radically -- mornings are much more crunched, as are evenings because bedtime has had to move earlier. He'll be coping with terrible jet lag, too. More settling in to come...
Yesterday was better. Jake and I went raspberry picking with friends in the morning, and then I used his nap time to get some planting and other yard work done. I felt more at peace than I had the previous day, and Abby hopped right off the bus at the end of the day.
On Day 3, I find myself settling in. We're all adjusting to the new rhythms, getting used to the combination of new freedoms and new responsibilities. I'm starting to truly enjoy the quiet time in the afternoon when Jake naps and Abby is still at school. Abby is deliriously happy and announces to anyone who will listen, "I love kindergarten!" I'm coming to terms with the fact that she is growing up, but find myself holding Jake even tighter, willing him to remain my "baby" for as long as possible.
I feel as though my husband has missed a huge transition in our family's life, and I worry a bit about how we'll plug him in when he returns. Our days have changed radically -- mornings are much more crunched, as are evenings because bedtime has had to move earlier. He'll be coping with terrible jet lag, too. More settling in to come...
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Tick, Tick, Tick
Most of my days pass at breakneck speed. With two active kids, I don't slow down very often. I always have a list of 900 things to do, most of which will probably be passed from list to list to list until sometime in the 2020s.
Today, time seems to have stopped. My daughter is off at her first day of kindergarten, and I simply cannot focus enough to tackle anything on the to do list. Jake is napping, and these are the afternoon hours I've been longing for -- quiet time when I can get things done without interruption.
It feels a bit like when we were trying to get a child to sleep through the night -- pointedly ignoring the anguished cries, when each minute felt like an hour. "I can't take anymore; it's just not right to let her keep crying. It's been at least 45 minutes." A quick check of the clock would reveal that it had actually been 4 to 5 minutes.
I had no idea just how long her day at school would seem. I didn't appreciate how much earlier she would be leaving in the morning than she did for preschool. Jake and I were back from the bus stop at 8:15, both kind of looking at each other as if to say, "what now?"
We have filled the time -- a trip to Home Depot for some fall plants, a grocery store run for milk and other essentials, a lot of time playing outside. And now he naps peacefully, while I pace around the house waiting for my daughter to be returned to me. Tick, tick, tick.
Today, time seems to have stopped. My daughter is off at her first day of kindergarten, and I simply cannot focus enough to tackle anything on the to do list. Jake is napping, and these are the afternoon hours I've been longing for -- quiet time when I can get things done without interruption.
It feels a bit like when we were trying to get a child to sleep through the night -- pointedly ignoring the anguished cries, when each minute felt like an hour. "I can't take anymore; it's just not right to let her keep crying. It's been at least 45 minutes." A quick check of the clock would reveal that it had actually been 4 to 5 minutes.
I had no idea just how long her day at school would seem. I didn't appreciate how much earlier she would be leaving in the morning than she did for preschool. Jake and I were back from the bus stop at 8:15, both kind of looking at each other as if to say, "what now?"
We have filled the time -- a trip to Home Depot for some fall plants, a grocery store run for milk and other essentials, a lot of time playing outside. And now he naps peacefully, while I pace around the house waiting for my daughter to be returned to me. Tick, tick, tick.
Milestones
Today is the first day of school, and for the first time in more years than I care to count, it really has special meaning for me. My daughter, Abby, began kindergarten today, excitedly stepping onto the school bus and heading off on her own into the next chapter of her life. Emotionally, I am all over the map. One minute, I'm excited for her and proud of the wonderful young girl she has become. The next moment, my eyes are brimming with tears, as I am forced to accept that she is no longer my baby. I am also anxious about some of the new things to which she will be exposed.
I've always been a fall girl, finding the promise of the new School Year far more inspiring than the forced promise of New Year's Eve. Fall, with its crisp weather and new notebooks, just seems the right time to turn over a new leaf (as my dear husband would say) and start anew. Today I'm trying to stay focused on that, looking ahead with optimism to all that is to come -- and thinking about the happy prospect of a bit more free time for myself.
I am confident that Abby is going to love school. And that her brother, Jake, and I will adjust to having her around less (although he spent the morning saying, "No Abby school!"). And that the empty feeling in the pit of my stomach will go away soon. I hope.
I've always been a fall girl, finding the promise of the new School Year far more inspiring than the forced promise of New Year's Eve. Fall, with its crisp weather and new notebooks, just seems the right time to turn over a new leaf (as my dear husband would say) and start anew. Today I'm trying to stay focused on that, looking ahead with optimism to all that is to come -- and thinking about the happy prospect of a bit more free time for myself.
I am confident that Abby is going to love school. And that her brother, Jake, and I will adjust to having her around less (although he spent the morning saying, "No Abby school!"). And that the empty feeling in the pit of my stomach will go away soon. I hope.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Slacker v. Superstar
While channel surfing last night, we stumbled across a show called "Kids By the Dozen." Featured last night was a ridiculously wholesome family from Minnesota with SIXTEEN kids, ranging from about 27 to about 4. The kids were polite, well-behaved, helpful. There was no yelling (by the parents, that is). Quotes included one from an 18ish boy, "The thing I miss most about being away from home is playing with my younger brothers and sisters." Oh, and of course, they homeschool them, too.
Wow. We were feeling pretty down on our parenting skills, since managing TWO does not come easily on many days. Why are we such slackers, complaining about how busy we are, yelling at the kids, etc.? Man, we stink!
The show ended and, egos in the toilet, we resumed surfing. And there, just in the nick of time, was SuperNanny featuring a totally out-of-control family with wild, disrespectful, obnoxious children -- who didn't get that way by themselves, thankyouverymuch. Suddenly, we felt like Parenting Hall of Famers, with polite, well-behaved, helpful children and (comparatively) no yelling.
Our confidence restored, we were able to go to bed secure in the knowledge that, on balance, we're doing a pretty damn fine job. Thanks, SuperNanny. Oh, and kudos to you huge, wholesome family. I sure couldn't do what you do.
Wow. We were feeling pretty down on our parenting skills, since managing TWO does not come easily on many days. Why are we such slackers, complaining about how busy we are, yelling at the kids, etc.? Man, we stink!
The show ended and, egos in the toilet, we resumed surfing. And there, just in the nick of time, was SuperNanny featuring a totally out-of-control family with wild, disrespectful, obnoxious children -- who didn't get that way by themselves, thankyouverymuch. Suddenly, we felt like Parenting Hall of Famers, with polite, well-behaved, helpful children and (comparatively) no yelling.
Our confidence restored, we were able to go to bed secure in the knowledge that, on balance, we're doing a pretty damn fine job. Thanks, SuperNanny. Oh, and kudos to you huge, wholesome family. I sure couldn't do what you do.
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