mystic_savage

I left the house today at 2:00 and took the bus to Traveler's.  I was to meet Chuck at 4:30 at the convention center, and wanted to groove around downtown for a bit before I went.  So:  I wore my lucky vest, and went to Traveler's (which is always lucky) and drank a cup of their chai (which is beyond luck -- it's actually magic, that chai).  I sat there and soaked up the atmosphere for awhile and went into the shop part of the store and looked around, not needing to buy anything but just happy to be there.  Exchanged a few words with Liam, the proprietor, who recognized me although he doesn't really know my name.  But we have a distantly pleasant relationship and I like him a lot.  Left Traveler's and went around the block to Babes in Toyland and then to Edge of the Circle.  Again, no need to buy anything.  In fact, in Edge of the Circle I looked at all the magic books and all the spirituality books and just had this moment of recognition that after thirty years of reading about all that stuff, I'm really tired of reading about it.  So I left and continued down the hill.  Stopped in at a furniture store that I'd never been in and had no intention of staying in, but was there for quite awhile because they didn't have just furniture, but also really cool candles and fans and desktop fru-frus and cool greeting cards.  It was a good place to explore.  Stopped in at a coffee shop, Uncle Elizabeth's, which I pass on the bus every morning and have always been curious about.  It's one of those places that's cooler on the outside than the inside, and I won't need to go back again, but it was a good place to spend ten minutes and the espresso, while nothing to write home about, wasn't too bad.  Continued down the hill.

Got to the convention center about an hour early, so headed up to the lobby on the second floor and hung out and read.  The security guard passed me once but decided I was well dressed enough he wouldn't hassle me (although I didn't have a convention badge).  I'm reading "Digging to America" by Anne Tyler and it's really good.  Went down to the meeting place with about ten minutes to spare and didn't have to wait too long for Chuck.  And had a very, very happy time catching up with him.

We sat and talked for a minute or two and then walked toward Wild Ginger, where we were seated at Table 9, which, as it turns out, is the same table I've been seated at the last two times I've been there.  Wild Ginger isn't a small place -- it has easily -- what?  40? 50? tables...more?  So it's quite a coincidence to be at this wonderful booth where I have good memories.  Chuck and I had a good meal -- a tuna thing and a chicken thing and a wonderful bok choi thing, and I had a mango daquiri and a vicodin and the conversation was mellow and loving and interesting and as always when I'm with Chuck I fell in love with him.  It's impossible not to.  I defy anybody to spend an hour or two with Chuck and not fall in love with him.  I don't think it's possible.  It's not that he's terribly suave--in fact, he's not.  He's sincere and has integrity and he's thoughtful and there's just something undeniably super wonderful about him.   After dinner, we walked to Bartell's where he picked up some headache medicine and I shopped for makeup and chatted with the clerk about skin care products.  Her secret is to mix baby oil with grains of sugar.  Mine is oatmeal.  Her name was Amy.  We had a great conversation, enhanced no doubt by my general feeling of well-being from being with Chuck and feeling like we're in a good place with each other.

So...we walked toward my bus stop and kissed a little bit while waiting for the bus, and I gave money to a guy whose sign said he just wanted money for pot, and money to my favorite busker (a drummer who is often outside of Nordstrom's at rush hour--the blond guy with the beard who plays a variety of drums and rhythms from different parts of the world and is pretty damn good.  Also, he looks like Jesus.  The blond Jesus.) And after another fifteen minutes, my bus came and I kissed Chuck good bye.  It was the perfect Saturday afternoon/early evening date.

I ran into Frances and Anna on the bus and we talked about writing and work parties and cohousing until we got to Duwamish.  Disembarked and walked with them through the community,  and found myself at Kevin's house with Kevin and the kids, sharing the lovely biscotti Chuck had brought me with them, and talking about family stuff with Penny and Sar.  Kevin and I are on the same page with parenting more and more these days.  It helps, I think, that the kids always make it pretty evident to us when things aren't good for them (eg, too much tv).  Anyway, made a plan for hanging out with them tomorrow and that was a wonderful cap to the evening.  Got back home around 8 pm, and am now updating this before I do my creative writing for the night. 

Love to all !

V.

Today was a day for spontaneous good dialogue at my house.  For example:

Me:  I'm taking a mental health day tomorrow.
Karen:  Oh.  I hope it works.

Or--

James:  (yells a warning to Buster Keaton as he's watching a DVD)
Me:  You know, he can't hear you.
James:  I know.  Because it's a silent movie.

And, while Karen was showing Natalie (12) her baby pictures as James and I are waiting to start Buffy, she shows Natalie a picture of the first time she ever had chocolate cake.

Me:  A loss of innocence.
James:  They should do that for vampires.  Take a picture of their first taste of human blood.
Me:  (pinching invisible cheeks) oh, isn't he cute?  isn't he a cute vampire?
James:  I'll bet he'd be mortified.

Living with people.  It can be entertaining.

We introduced Natalie to Buffy tonight.  Season 1.  First three episodes.  Since Natalie is extremely fashion conscious, it made me aware of how long ago season 1 was filmed.  Eg:  In the Harvest, Buffy is walking around in the sewers and a rat runs in front of her foot.

Natalie:  Ew!
Me:  The square-toed boots?
Natalie:  Yes!  (beat) Well, and the rat.

I'm going to Solstice Cafe in the U district after work for an hour or two tonight. I'll sit and do some freewriting with one of my bus friends, Mara, and then we'll take the bus downtown and part ways.

I might get up tomorrow morning and get coffee before the kids come over. Or I might not. We're going to a birthday party at Duwamish in the afternoon -- bouncy castle, cake. And after that?

Long hours with each other. We'll come up with something. Computer games will be involved, or movies. I have to clean my room -- it's a mess. There is always laundry.

And then Sunday. Long long too-busy Sunday shackled to the kids. Kevin picks them up at 5:30, and then Sunday evening. Nothing.

The kids got up early today -- Sar woke up at 5:30 & we lounged in bed for an hour before Penny woke up. I asked him to get me a tissue and he pointed his hand across the room and said "I'm using the Force." "Good," I said. "If that doesn't work, will you get out of bed and just go get the tissue?" He pointed both hands at the box and said "I'm using two Forces." Eventually, I got my own tissue.

Penny has been super cuddly today and has demonstrated the kind of grace not often found in kids. She and Sar got into an argument and Sar kicked her. I was putting Sar in time out until he apologized, and he swore he'd never apologize. I told him that it was going to be a tough day then, because I wouldn't let it go until he did. And Penny said, "Mom, I'm ready to let it go." Once Penny was over it, Sar had no problem apologizing.

So: it's not yet 9 and we've been up for three hours. Karen takes the kids at 9 and Kevin at 2, so I have the day to myself until dinner. I started the rewrite of Dear Cruel World this weekend. Have found a voice that works and am gaining some ground on the second draft. (Need a better title of course. But there's time for that later.) Am going to shower, head out for coffee & do some free writing, then come back and work on it today.

Still feeling antisocial, but am going to meet someone after work for an hour to do freewriting. It's been too long since I've written in a spiral notebook, longhand, whatever the hell I want to write.

...was quiet, even though I had the kids until 5. They played on the webkinz site for a couple of hours, did some unpacking with me, ate lunch, and then headed off to Duwamish to play. I experimented with having them go by themselves and check in with me in person periodically. It worked pretty well, although I'm not entirely comfortable not knowing what they're up to. I have a cold & ear ache. Probably caught it on the plane or at the gig Friday. Might have caught it from one of my kids. All things are possible with pestilence, which seems to be a fairly constant guest in our family. Still have that lingering bronchial cough and allergy stuff too, so the only clue I have that I actually have some kind of virus is a slight fever. Missing work tomorrow is not an option, so I insist on being well enough to get through the day tomorrow.

Karen & James are in California with their family. It's been nice having the evening to myself in the house alone after all the activity of the last 8 days. Tomorrow, back into the routine, and they'll be home tomorrow eve, so all will be family-centered.

Haven't done much worth talking about today: just unpacking, cleaning the fish tank, watering the plants. Making hot compresses, heating apple cider. Going to go to bed early I think, and get up early enough to make coffee and have the quiet of the morning to myself before catching the bus.

Be well.

Have the kids this weekend.  They went with James to hapkido this morning while Karen and I figured out the materials list for Penny's loft.  Ok.  To be honest, Karen figured it out and I just asked a lot of annoying questions ("So...the little quotation marks are inches, right?") (which, thank Christopher Guest, I happened to know because of the Stonehenge scene in Spinal Tap).  I hate math and sort of dread this project.  Next step is to buy the lumber and get it home (two challenges there in the lack of $$ and lack of reliable transportation -- lack of $$ is the big one).  Final step is to build the danged thing, which I think Karen would just do for me if I keep Sam and Tera for a few hours so she can work uninterrupted.  Karen loves this sort of thing.  I'm kind of useless at it.

BUT: three loads of laundry are completely done and folded, and I just finished a load of dishes & will be watching Sam & Tera this evening so Karen & James can be out for awhile. Also?  I fed everyone lunch.  Not bad for someone whose self-concept is that she is completely lazy & irresponsible and unwilling to do anything that resembles work.

Tomorrow is a self-sacrificing visit to Hell on Earth Family Fun Center.  The plan is to get there the minute it opens and leave an hour later, before it gets too crowded.  I can't tell you how much I really, really hate going places that are loud or have a lot of people in them.  But going there is part of the Being A Better Parent intention I set at the parenting workshop I took last month.  I realized that I'm pretty good at being a fun parent at home, but that I never take the kids anywhere to do something that is fun for them unless another adult initiates it.  And even then I go under protest.  So this Family Fun Center thing?  It was my idea, and the first of a potentially large number of such outings.

Monday is the beginning of the "Living Well with Chronic Conditions" workshop series I'm doing at group health.  I think I know everything about it already, but I'm trying to stay open to the possibility that I might actually learn something that will improve my quality of life.  One key issue I've identified is that there are challenges unique to living with a condition that is mostly hidden and never bothers me--until it does.  One of the challenges is even remembering that I have a condition and taking care of myself in a way that avoids its symptoms.

Before I enter the house when I come home, I take a deep breath and prepare myself to accept whatever is on the other side of the door, to meet whoever is in the house however they are at that moment.  Since I'm often walking into a situation with four kids and lots of chaos, just taking that little mental step allows me to walk in and be available, rather than to walk in with an agenda and try to start controlling things.  It's a tiny thing, but it makes a difference in my attitude, and while it may not brighten anybody else's life much, it does allow me to be present for just a moment. 

One other thing I do sometimes, on the bus in the morning.  I just look at people and wish good things for them for the day.  Another tiny, tiny thing which may make no quantitative difference in their lives or mine, but which makes a huge qualitative difference in my availability for conversation (and that has led to some very nice bus acquaintance-ships).

It's been long enough since I've had a full-blown stretch of fibro symptoms that I had forgotten what they were like.  A couple of weeks ago I was reminded what the pain was like -- body on fire from the inside out, all over achiness, feeling flu-ish and exhausted and crabby, getting IBS symptoms, the works.  I had it for 3-4 days and it got better each day and had mostly dissipated by the time I got to the doctor last week.  Then this weekend, I must have over done it again.  Little sleep plus lots of effort reorganizing my room.  Stayed home yesterday to try to sleep and recover, but the achiness continued into today.  Went to work, but the pain was so bad I was crying on and off for 3-4 hours this morning.  So:

I've got an appointment with Group Health's pain clinic -- April 10th;
I've downloaded music that's supposed to enhance delta state sleeping;
I'm keeping a pain journal;
I've canceled my dates for the next three nights;

I'm trying to calm down enough to sleep, but I'm wired from so much activity at home tonight -- helping Penny do homework; playing with Sar; helping pick up a game; helping Tera button and unbutton her jacket; watching the play Penny & Sam made up while the rest of us were finishing dinner; mining the ITunes store for songs with the kids' names in the title (we were especially delighted that there is a group called the Elessar Trio doing Latin music!); trying to get Sar settled.  Home was good tonight...and things still hurt.

Sar is waiting for me now to finish this and cuddle him down to sleep.

One last good note from today:  Mike gave me a ride home.  When he heard how bad I was hurting, he offered to pick me up & he arrived right at 5 with a bunch of roses for me on the front seat.   And he made me laugh during the right home.

So it wasn't a bad day.  Just a painful one.

Just talked to Penny on the phone, who told me she lost her purse at school.  A lot of responses occurred to me very quickly (see?  I told you you were too young to have a purse at school?  or  oh, sweetie -- did you have any money in it?  here, let me make it up to you).  I used a technique I used yesterday in the parenting workshop:  "What's your plan for finding it?" She told me in detail her plan about where she would look and whom she would ask, and then I used another technique and asked her if I could add a suggestion.  She said "sure."  I said, "You might ask Karen if she has any suggestions.  She's a pretty good resource."  Penny said she wanted to try her plan first and then if she still couldn't find it she would ask Karen.

What I loved about this conversation is that it showed me how resourceful Penny is.  She had a problem; she had a plan for solving the problem.  I'm interested in seeing how it turns out.  And I also love that I was able to end the conversation with "I'm proud of you for having such a thorough plan" rather than ending the conversation with something like "well, you'd better find that purse" or worse. 

Posted via email from mysticsavage's posterous

See me up there in the photo?  The user icon?  I wanted to be her...all:  in bed, cool cloth on forehead, resting.  Came home from work early to rest this afternoon, but "here" is also where Penny and Sar have their after school child care, so I got embroiled in some negotiations between Karen and Penny (way too much to go into now) and then Kevin came and got them.  And Karen went to her chiropractor's office & James was here with Sam & Tera and I got distracted with one thing & another...then napped for about 45 minutes before realizing I needed more:  kleenex, airborne, tea..

which is all to say (and there are tons of other bits of minutiae there):

there is not enough time!  I need more time!  And someone to put a cool cloth on my forehead and say "there, there".

After Karen got back from her chiropractor's office and we processed the stuff between her and Penny, we said "there, there" to each other.  And she didn't give me a cool cloth, but she *did* bring back burritos from Taqueria Guaymas.  So, you know, that's pretty frickin' cool.

And now, yeah, I'm taking my sniffles back to bed.  Tomorrow is my last day at this job.  I want to be up early to kick work butt tomorrow.

V.

**Except that, as it turned out, it was a Monday night.  So:  no wonder it felt like a Monday night.

From a bedtime conversation with the kids tonight.  I started reciting the 23rd Psalm.

Penny:  It's time to sleep, not time for prayers.
Me:  Actually, sleep is a pretty traditional time for prayers.  It's a good time to thank God for what he does for us.
Sar:  God helps us every day without us even knowing.
Me:  Yeah?  How did God help you today?
Sar:  She helped me learn in counting.  She helps me in math.  She helped me figure out what 8 and 8 is.
Penny:  God helps me.
Sar:  It's 16.
Penny:  God helps me know what's right to do.  And to listen to the teacher.
Me:  Well...good.  God helps me not be so afraid sometimes.  So I like to thank Him once in awhile right before I sleep.
Me:  Thank you, God, for my wonderful children and for all the love in my life.
Penny:  I love you God.
Sar:  Thank the God in me, and thank the God in Penny and thank the God in Daddy and thank the God in the whole world.
Me:  That's nice Sar.  Let's go to sleep.
Penny:  God is in everybody, you know.
Sar:  Not the bad people.
Me:  Well, there aren't really bad people.  Everyone's a mix.  But we should really go to sleep.  It's time to stop talking.
Sar:  What about the kids God made?
Me:  He made Adam and Eve.
Sar:  No, the kids.
Penny:  You know, the brothers.  One was good and one was bad.
Me:  You mean Cain and Abel?
Penny:  The one who stabbed...
Sar:  Yeah.  The one who killed his brother.  He was bad.
Me:  He was a mix.  They both were.  He just listened to his bad side and Abel listened to his good side.  Now, it's time to be quiet...
Sar:  How old was he?
Me:  Who?
Sar:  The bad one.
Me:  18.  He was 18.
Sar:  How old was the one who died?
Me:  Old. He was 22.  Now sleep.
Penny: (suspiciously)  Is that true?
Me:  I don't know.  The Bible doesn't say.  But it's 10:30 and your bedtime was two hours ago.  So sleep!
***
A couple of days ago I was driving the kids around and I told them the story of how God created human beings according to the Bible.  I said it was one kind of truth, but that there were others.  I told them the first man was Adam.  Sar corrected me.  He said the first man was Tom Bombadill, because Tom Bombadill is older than the hills.  Which led to an interesting discussion about different kinds of truth and different stories. 

Sometimes my kids blow me away.

Our dishwasher gave up the ghost last night in clouds of toxic smoke and a subsequent visit from the fire department.  At one point there were three firetrucks and nine firefighters here, going over the place with a thermal camera to try to determine the source of the smoke.  Sadly, yup, it was the dishwasher, which was then yanked out and put out on the porch.  Now the (scorched) cabinet in back of where the dishwasher was is exposed, we have a broken dishwasher (still with dishes in it) on our porch, and I've been doing a big pile of dishes for the last hour and a half.  Penny is home sick today, and peppering me with questions.  And after I finish the dishes I'll go upstairs and deal with cleaning up from the toilet problem we also had this weekend.

Interesting, isn't it, that I find this preferable to going to work?

Sam called today from Woods and Associates.  They're sending someone else out to the job for the next two days and then I'm going back out on Wednesday.  So it's all good.  Unless I lose the job assignment altogether.  Then it will be even better.   

It's the weekend and I'm almost caught up on sleep, which makes this post possible.  Breklor is here this weekend.  He just came for the exhibit at the Seattle Art Museum and is going back tomorrow, but I'm enjoying his company a lot.  We had dinner at Johnny Rocket's with my kids, iguanahey and wandawonka and their kids.  Then went to Westlake to the "computer on the ground" outside of Daiso on the bottom level. Penny gave a panhandler a dollar.  We'd talked about this before and I've told her all the reasons I don't give money to panhandlers, but she said to me "how would you feel if you were hungry and needed money and someone who wasn't hungry didn't give you money?"  She's seven.  In that one moment I was very glad to know her and happy to be with her and (I admit it) proud of her.  Most of the evening she was downright spazzy and not very well behaved so having a good moment with her was a nice relief from the other stuff.  She wasn't awful, but she was bouncy and not listening and swinging her umbrella around and chasing pigeons and charging ahead without waiting for the adults.  It was not much like her usual behavior.  Sar and Penny are a handful downtown and maneuvering them is exhausting.   I owe wandawonka a big debt of gratitude for stepping in and doing pinch-hitting parenting when I was too steamed up to deal appropriately with them.

Don't have much focus around LiveJournal right now; the rest of life is busy and I'm temporarily addicted to a facebook application.  (if you haven't yet joined my mob -- please do!) My Mom, Dad and nephew all joined.  They are Legsy Lillie, jonnybegood and jambolini in that order.

I'm reading the positive thoughts journal as well (featured on LJ's front page).  My thought for today:  I can.  Feel free to leave your positive thoughts in a comment to this post if you're not doing the whole positive thought journal thing.

Just packed up 8 boxes and another four bags of stuff for donation this weekend.  I feel a little lighter.  Could use more paper boxes and a vacuum cleaner now.

9 days til my birthday.  I've got nothing planned.  Feel free to send me a card.

Applied to BigFishGames this weekend and got my resume referred to the temp agency that handles their customer service people.  The pay is just 13.50 an hour.  I don't know if I could work the most fun job in the world if that were to be my pay on an ongoing basis.  So I called the agency--they're looking at the other jobs posted at the company to see if something else might fit my experience.

and ...that's all for now.

v.

Heard from UW today and they've decided to go another way.  That is, I'm not accepted into their MFA program.  Oddly, I don't feel crushed or even particularly very attached to the result of the decision.  Having a scholarship from UBC really takes the sting out of it...still smiling about that.  Also, this keeps my decision to work full-time, or close to it, a strong possibility...perhaps even at the Times if it all works out.

Big if about the Times.  Not sure I know enough about the job to want it full time and forever.  Yesterday I sure didn't.  75 email messages in my in-box; something like 14 meeting requests, and all of them big meetings involving lots of people.  Today I had about the same number of requests to set up meetings, but they were small meetings and less urgent and easier to manage.  I joked when I took this job it would be "Calendar Bootcamp" and it is.

Kevin is taking the kids to Mexico for a week starting tomorrow morning.  I'm house-sitting for my own house and Sandra's simultaneously...a task made much easier by the Honk! Fest West folks who will be staying here (Julie & Adrian & Gareth & Mister).  I'm really looking forward to seeing Andrew.

Monday: gastroenteritis
Tuesday: feeling directionless for the morning, but then called Pace and talked my way into an interview on Wednesday morning and used that momentum to organize finances,c all student loan people, etc.
Wednesday: Interview at Pace, came home & did skills testing and filled out more forms
Late Wednesday night: anaphylactic reaction to something. Dreamed someone was strangling me and woke up to find that throat had swollen out to my jawline. Woke Kevin, took benadryl, stayed up until the swelling started to go down, went back to bed.
Thursday: Still having symptoms. Went into Urgent Care and was treated like an idiot. Came home, spent the day making phone calls and looking for job. Made appointment for next Thursday morning with Office Team.
Thursday night: Allen came over and we hung out and had a wonderful conversation.
Friday: Started temp assignment on the Eastside, answering phones for a construction company. Spent three hours getting home on the bus. Will drive on Monday. Called UW Temps and made an appointment for next Thursday afternoon with U Temps.

Tomorrow: going to Everson/Nooksack with kids; Sunday: coming home. Monday and Tuesday: continuing on this job assignment. Wednesday's an unknown (the woman I'm filling in for has jury duty & will mostly likely be back -- or hopefully be back). Thursday: Appointments with Office Team and UW Temps. And so on.

At home today with a sick kid.  Penny's got a fever of 102, down from 103 last night.  Flu with a sudden middle-of-the-night onset on Sunday night.  Apologies to all LJ friends we may have exposed this weekend.  She's seldom this sick.  She doesn't want a popsicle, doesn't want to watch tv.  Just kind of lays there, glassy, and whines a bit and then goes to sleep.  I'm more or less force feeding her water.  Sar is at Karen's today, so it's just me and Penny here.

Kevin was home with her yesterday and was going to stay home with her today as well, but found out after I went to bed last night that he had two meetings scheduled today.  So he ambushed me as I was on my way out the door to catch the bus.  Not that I mind staying home with Penny--I enjoy spoiling people, and when the kids are sick, I can spoil them without feeling like a bad parent.  But it's a really bad day for me to miss work.  I had copy jobs to do for people this morning; we don't have any work-study coverage on Tuesdays; David and Carol are conducting interviews for my position today; the Graduate Program Committee meeting is Thursday and there isn't anyone at the office who can do file check-out for graduate application files; and I missed work on Friday, so Carol's extra pissed at me.  It can take her a couple of weeks to get over being angry, by which time I'm gone.  It's a sour note to leave on, but I can't do anything about it just now.

I have a job interview today at 3 for a job I might actually want, and Kevin's second meeting gets out at 2.  So he's going to jet home, we're going to bundle Penny in the car, and he's going to drop me at the Health Sciences Building. In the meanwhile, I'm here, drinking coffee, having a moment to catch up on my email, listening to the dishwasher hum and preparing to do a few loads of laundry.  Trying to stay calm and ignore my work anxiety.  I hate it when people are mad at me.

I love home.  Which is where I am today.  Listening to the dishwasher hum.  Writing in sentence fragments.  Ducking work.  Drinking coffee.  Napping.  Watching a movie. Folding laundry.  Packing for Bellingham. Taking it easy.  Love it.

My computer at home is down and probably will be for the rest of the week.  This drives me crazy, because I'm addicted to journaling everything on LJ -- but it's probably good for me to go back to pen & paper for as long as it takes to get the computer back up.  We're waiting on system recovery disks, since the ones Kevin originally made don't seem to work.

So.  This weekend, in a word:  wonderful.  iguanahey and I reconnected after two months of not seeing each other.  It was a very loving hiatus from the day-to-day.  The kids and I are going out there this Saturday to spend some time reconnecting with wandawonka and the kids as well as iguanahey.

This week I've got the kids Monday, Wednesday and Friday & have social plans Tuesday & Thursday with platonic friends whom I haven't seen enough of in the last year.  Today is just about getting back into the swing of the academic session--it's the first day of winter quarter, so there are actual students on campus and the building is no longer ghostly silent.

Hope you're all having a good day.  :)

Another weird sleeping night.  I fell asleep when I put the kids to bed -- it's hard not to when I cuddle Sar down and he holds my hand between both of his little hands and goes to sleep.  Tucking him in is the one truly peaceful time of day with him.  He's been big on the testing behaviors lately.  Like, for the last three years.  But it seems to be escalating and he's very angry with me though he's not conscious of it or can't articulate it.  I love him and Penny more than I love anybody in the whole world. But I don't know what to do next & am often at a loss with him.  I feel more sure of myself with Penny.  She talks feeling language and she's very in touch with why she wants what she wants in any given moment.  Sar has been taught feeling language but I don't think I've ever heard him say "I'm angry" instead of "you're stupid". 
Vero suggested that I stop focusing on curbing his behaviors (that doesn't work) and start focusing on talking to him about his values and asking him to question himself about why he does certain things.  she has a lot of wisdom and this works with her kids.  I don't know if it really will work with Sar, but I started that tonight.  It was new enough that it kept distracting him from his next tactic, but he avoided answering any questions or talking to me directly.  (His answer to any question is "poop".)  He *did* pull Lord of the Rings down and ask me to read to him.  He loves LotR.  And here's a confession:  I've never made it through the first book of the trilogy.  Kevin started reading LotR to Sar & Penny because Kevin loves Tolkien and Elessar is named from the books (Aragorn's second name, given at the end of the third novel).  Tonight I read almost a chapter about the Burrow Downs.  It was enthralling & both kids hung on every word for almost an hour. 
So.  I went to tuck them in, and fell asleep at 9:30 with them and work up at 3:00 and came downstairs.  A sane person would have just turned off all the lights and gone to bed.  I'm grabbing the opportunity to write in my LJ and play games on Facebook and to rev up my iPod.  Ah, the simple life.  It would be so good for me to unplug and I would have the DTs if I had to do it cold turkey.  I *am* getting rid of my cell phone this week.  I'm going to miss it terribly.  But it's a start.

Sar is finally asleep tonight after hours of jumping around, hurtling himself into furniture and at the floor, provoking his sister as much as possible and peppering me with lots and lots of questions, most of them revolving around sizes, ages, numbers.  Andre the Giant features in many of the questions:  how big was he?  was he healthy?  did he have kids?  was he older than anyone when he died (because in Sar's mind older=taller).  If Grandma Crabtree is almost a hundred, is she big?  Do people die when they're a hundred?  Was Andre the Giant a hundred? He had a lot of questions about dinosaurs today too--which ones ate which other ones and do they walk backwards and what kind of teeth did they have and did they eat humans and would they eat Andre the Giant or would he be bigger than the dinosaurs?  He constantly has numbers about the clock:  how many minutes is it past my bedtime?  How many minutes have you been here?  How many minutes past my bedtime will it be when you leave?  Is 9:00 the middle of the night? Do grownups go to sleep at 9:00?  What time did Andre the Giant go to sleep?  And then, because his father is in Hawaii right now:  do they have a restaurant in Hawaii?  Is Hawaii a volcano?  Is it lots of volcanoes or just one volcano? Why did Dad go to Hawaii? Does he know where to get food in Hawaii?  Where is he sleeping?  Can I go to Hawaii?  When is Dad coming back from Hawaii?  How many hours is that?  How many minutes is the night?

And those are the questions I remember.  Trust me, it's the tip of the iceberg.  He's figuring out a lot of stuff right now.

The first day of fall quarter is always a huge shock after the quiet of summer.  An extra 30,000 commuters are all of a sudden competing on buses and highways.  People wander all over our building looking lost.  Everyone is self-consciously dressed in something that looks put-together, even it's a casual kind of put-together.  But it's good energy too.  Hope and surprises and reunions with people who've been gone for months.  Cookies and brownies and coffee-on-tap in the office.  New majors coming in.  Old majors dropping by to fill out a form.  This is my second year with the department, but my third school year, so I know a lot of names.  I feel part of things, and happy.  I ran around a lot today and didn't focus very well on my work. But I was much more focused on my work *place* than I have been for months.  I love fall quarter.  It's busy and optimistic and not nearly as stressful as spring quarter. 

( more about the day...tra la la la la... )

Fell asleep in Kevin's bed last night with the kids.  (Kevin wasn't here, so it was ok).  We didn't mean to, just all crashed there and didn't wake up until he got home at 10:30 from his "How to Be a Farmer" workshop.  He carried the kids to bed and I dragged my butt downstairs to my own bed and crashed until 8 this morning when I woke up surrounded again by kids.  So I slept for a total of ten hours or so last night.

Today was the annual retreat at Duwamish & we had a post-settlement rehash & appreciation ceremony.  I think it's the first time in a year or so that I've felt this much a part of the community because I've been one of the three people on the legal team representing the LLC, so we haven't been able to be part of the Homeowners' business meetings or work structure.  They gave us each bouquets of flowers, but I think we all acknowledge that there's a huge lot of work ahead of us in rebuilding community after all the damage of the last two years.  I'm not sure where I'm going to be in the long run.  Kevin and Maria talked to a real estate agent about land around Bellingham this weekend, so either UBC or Western might ultimately be a good choice for me.  Don't know if we'll be able to sell this year, or next, or when, but it looks more possible now that we may get our equity out of the house.  Kevin's taking a day off this week to work on the divorce paperwork, so that's going to move ahead too.  He's ready finally.

So:  this morning brought all *that* up, and then I had the afternoon free for a few hours during which I (drum roll please)...slept.  Yup.  That was pretty much it.  The kids were Kevin's responsibility today and he had hired Jenelle to look after them.  She's 13, so I stuck around and we bought pizza and watched Land Before Time IX.  And because Jenelle was here, I got to spend more time in my room, cleaning, organizing, re-stringing a couple of bead necklaces, etc.  All in all, a pretty satisfying day.  And I'm thinking now that I might....(yawn)...sleep.  Seems to be theme of the day.

I shaved my head on an ordinary Saturday. While the kids chased soap bubbles in the yard, I ran up to the bathroom, looked in the mirror, and cut my hair off to the scalp.

This wasn’t completely out of the blue. I had been struggling with my Look, approaching my 38^th birthday with more despair than hope and some desperate appointments for manicures and facials. I’d ended up with fuchsia toenails and an unattractive dark brown mullet. On top of the sixty pounds I’d gained since having the children, I felt ugly, stodgy, and hopelessly old.

I liked the results so much I borrowed my friend Andy’s clippers to shave my hair even closer. Later that afternoon I emerged from the bathroom a stark bald woman.

My mother sighed when I called to tell her.

“Oh Virginia,” she said.

“No, Mom-It’s a self-affirming thing, not a self-destructive thing.”

“Call it what you like,” she said. “But it sounds compulsive to me.”

Maybe it started out a little compulsive--or at least impulsive. But I could always scrub a toilet if I wanted to feel in control of things. This seemed to be about starting over, getting down to the most basic truths of self. Or, if nothing else, about serving as a walking magnet for people’s reactions.

One neighbor flew out of her front door enthusing, “Amazing! Good for you!” as if I’d delivered twins in a taxi cab or run the Boston Marathon. People clustered around me at church. “What made you decide to do that?” they asked. And, “What a haircut!” One elderly woman whispered confidentially, “I always wanted to try that.”

My kids were equally supportive. Penny, who is three, exclaimed, “You look just like Baby Sam!” and “I wuv it!” Her brother patted my head and went back to nursing.

I went out to a beach-side coffee shop to sit by a window and watch people. I was startled when a guy walking past the window nodded at me. A few minutes later, another guy winked. Some people looked quickly away and then glanced back. Some cringed.

On Thursday morning I was chagrined to find myself standing in line for coffee right behind a bald man. It was like wearing the same dress as the prom queen, and she looked better in it. This man looked very essence of strength, the muscle-bound bouncer who is more brawn than brain. When I shaved my head, I’d wanted to borrow that kind of physicality. To affirm my strength, not deny it.

In our culture people think of cancer when they see a bald woman. Feminine baldness conveys illness, weakness, the extreme fight of a tortured body. I sometimes wonder if how I look brings up bad memories for people who’ve lost loved ones to cancer. Which is interesting, because I’ve never wondered if seeing fat brings up bad memories for people who’ve lost loved ones to heart disease.

I wanted to ask him what he used to get such a smooth shave. Instead I ordered my double tall mocha with extra whip and tried to look macho. The next day I met with my friend Wendy, who had once kept her head shaved for a couple of years.

“It’s weird,” I said. “It’s like I’m all of a sudden visible.”

“You are that,” she said. “Your eyes just pop out at me. I have a hard time looking away when you talk because your face is more expressive.”

“Really?” I whipped a mirror out of my purse and raised one eyebrow. “Gosh, you’re right!” I said.

“And younger,” she said.

“Hmm, I was going for tough.” I’d been lifting weights all week.

“Sorry,” she said. “You can’t hide anything now. Your face highlights every passing feeling.”

So I’m more expressive now. I’m also more open about what I disagree with.I feel like every time I go out, I challenge the oppression of hair product companies. More, I challenge everything they stand for: make-over shows, plastic surgery, the search to stay young and live long and defy gravity with every pore of your being. I’ve been challenging that last one for years now, but being bald made me visible in the same way that motherhood, aging, and fat had gradually made me invisible. It’s forcing me to regard my physical “flaws” differently. If something as freaky as my bald head can start looking good to me, why not be proud of my huge asymmetric breasts or my powerful thighs?

I remember Lucille Clifton’s poem: “Listen/you a wonder/you a city of a woman./You got a geography of your own.” My head is a planet with its own topography, marked by scars and razor bumps. I revel in the liberty of that, of being able to state with my body that I’m choosing my own standard of beauty.

The irony is that I’m trading one tyranny for another. Being bald walks a line between feminism and fetishism. I may be more visible, but I’m also a walking object for bald fetishists. I didn’t even know there were bald fetishists until I searched the web for “women” and “bald”. Most of the hits were tribute and sex pages. Not that I have anything against fetishes, but does that mean I have to be comfortable with strangers lusting after my pate? Being visible in an iconic way doesn’t appeal to me as much as being visible in an essential way. I shaved my head because I hadn’t seen myself for a long time, and I’m coming to understand that this is more me than anything else I’ve done since I had kids.

Being bald symbolizes tension between asceticism and sensuality. Hats and silk scarves feel amazing. Showers mean more enjoyment and less work. When I first shaved my head I thought of Buddhist nuns and married Orthodox Jewish women. I rejected the distraction of my hair, unaware that I was inviting in a new distraction. I proclaimed my strength, unaware that I would remind people of weakness. I tried to look freaky and scary and tough, unaware that I would end up looking vulnerable and expressive and young.

When my housekeepers Richard and James saw me for the first time since I=d shaved my head, James said “Oh. My. God.” Richard peered around the corner from the upstairs hallway. “I like it,” he said, and disappeared. James was still taking it in. “What is it about?” he asked. “Freedom?”

“Well, yeah,” I said. “Freedom, sure. Strength. Asceticism. Fetishism. Feminism.”

“How long are you going to keep it that way?”

“Just long enough to get the whole experience,” I said. “To really understand what this baldness is about.”

It looks like I may be bald for a long time.

First conversation this morning:
P: It's Sunday! Time to get up!
Me: Hunh?
P: It's Sunday! Time. to. get. up.
Me: How do you know it's Sunday?
P(spreading her hands as if it were so obvious): The sun is up.
( More Domestic Yawnings )

E just broke a plate I made when I was 7. The plate had a picture of a smiling butterfly on it and said "Ginger 1972". It was the only thing I had from my childhood. Dumb little plastic plate.

I didn't yell at him, just put him in the highchair, put P in her chair, and swept it up. It's just a thing. It's just a thing. It's just a thing.

VL

Look, people, you don't have to tear the square off perfectly, even if you're three years old and everything must be perfect. Six times a day--sometimes more often--there's a long, complicated ritual event called "going potty" that involves: a) finding the red potty, because no other potty will do; b) peeing or pooping into it, which can mean sitting for a long time; c) carrying one side of the potty while Mommy carries the other side of the potty up the stairs to the bathroom; d) lifting the toilet lid ("by myself") and dumping the potty ("I do it") while Mommy holds her breath and hopes nothing spills; e) wiping self, which involves the perfect quantity and shape of toilet paper (to my daughter's credit, I will say that she's the only one who puts new rolls of toilet paper on the roll in our house), chanting "front to back and drop" while doing it completely backwards anyway; f) getting up on step to wash potty in sink; g) squirting the soap by herself; h) washing the potty (can take several minutes if not closely supervised); and i) washing hands (also several minutes if I don't turn off the water at some point).

It drives me up the lemur-hoppin' wall!!!

If any tiny piece of that ritual is rushed or if I try to help with any of it, meltdown. Today's meltdown was about toilet paper. I found myself gritting my teeth and yelling: "The toilet paper doesn't have to be perfect!" Penny's great. She said "Stop it, Mommy. You don't have to yell at me," and went about her business. I tried to explain it to her more calmly, but she just persistently doesn't get it. In Pennyverse, the toilet paper does have to be perfect, and the soap has to make LOTS of bubbles, and if an adult washes the potty or flushes the potty, it has to be done all over again, right this time, which means Penny is in charge. If she weren't so damned cute, she probably wouldn't survive her childhood.

Anna

By some miracle of the gods and goddesses, my children have both been asleep for the last hour and a half. I've been: enjoying the softness of the air on my skin, drinking diet coke, reading Range of Motion, making up new burritos (cold garbanzos and broccoli), rubbing lavender oil on my newly-shaved head, catching up on email.

I've not been: doing laundry or dishes, writing query letters or cover letters, organizing paperwork, doing any committee work, or talking on the phone. I can hear my next-door neighbor's wind chimes, my fingers typing away here, the hum of the computer. The faintest trill of bird sounds. A light mewling sound from the kids' room, which subsides as the kid in question falls asleep again.

Today has been the kind of day I love: no plans, but not too lazy either. K was home earlier this morning and ran out to the Uptown to get some coffee for us before disappearing for work. We started with a big family cuddle when I woke him this morning. It was the kind of morning that reminded me of how things were back when we were a couple: I'd tickle him awake and he'd "bedmonster" me. Now he bedmonsters the kids and I sit on the edge of the bed and act as a rebounder to toss them back into the action. It was a very fun, lovey, cosy little morning time, and I almost forgot all of my bitterness long enough to wish we were in love again. So I got up and went downstairs. I wouldn't go back to that blind time--I like this time, the freedom of it, the truth of it, how much more and better it fits both of us than the time when we were stumbling along trying to seem like a Mr. and Mrs. Sunday Morning. But I digress.

So: K. got us coffee, then the kids and I went to the common house and did laundry and played in the playroom. Nutmeg played on the swingset with some other little kids and Boulevard toddled around the playground while Fiona watched him and I got to talk with a couple of neighbors. They both teach during the school year so they're home during the day only in the summer and there was some novelty to having a long conversation with them. At lunchtime, the kids and I ate at the common house: a chilled ginger-carrot soup left over from last night's meal, then I mopped the kitchen floor, retrieved my laundry and headed home with kids to shave my head while they took a long bath. Nutmeg says she wants to shave her head too, but I tell her it's an adult thing, something she needs to think about. Still, I'm flattered, even if she is 3. We watched a little t.v. today: just cyberchase, which moves way too fast for my children, but keeps them completely absorbed so I can call a friend.

Tomorrow is Boulevard's second birthday. I'm having cake for everyone in the common house. And karaoke. Just in case anyone wants to karaoke.

Anna

I love mornings like this. I've been awake for an hour, but the rest of the family is sound asleep. It's cool, birds chirp outside my window, and I've just spent 45 minutes browsing images on the web and playing around with a paint program.

When I was in high school I used to get up at 4:30 in the morning just to have a long shower and some solace in the morning. I lived with nine people; the quietest times of day were right after school (when all the other kids had activities and I could watch Charlie's Angels at my leisure) and early, early in the morning. I used to make coffee, read for an hour, walk out into the garden after dawn to pick early peas and eat them right off the plant. We lived in the middle of 80 acres. The smell of earth and cows and pond frost and the patches of fresh mint one of our housemates had planted all mixed together to create morning. Morning was my favorite time of day.

Now. I don't see much of morning. I wake already surrounded by active little people with a busy to-do right in my forebrain: change E's diaper, make sure P gets on the potty, unload dishwasher, load diswasher, make toast for kids (P always insists on helping, so that involves pulling out the step stool and guiding her through the buttering process), make coffee--and usually somewhere in there the phone rings or a neighbor stops by or a fight erupts or someone's whining and it's a matter of blindly stumbling through all my tasks, while sleep deprived, while trying not to yell at anyone, while dealing with whatever comes up...and all I want to do is stop. Drink coffee. Read.

But today. Today is a wonderful morning. I got enough sleep, I've had time to write. I got nothing to complain about. Color me content.