Take a Picture. It Lasts Longer.

I had a really great moment the other night where I could feel the flow of things. Everything felt structured, ordered and organized. Everything was happening just as I had planned, I was prepared for what was to come and peace reigned throughout the land. Lasted for about five minutes, but still. It was something. I once read that everything in our lives is constantly moving toward chaos. In a fallen world, even our bodies betray us by falling apart a little every day. Which makes perfect sense when you think about it. That's why it's so difficult to maintain a home, when the universe is insisting that evil weeds, dirty laundry and messy cabinets become eviler, dirtier and messier as I am sitting here writing this. And it's why it's so difficult to maintain our health, our relationships, our schedules, our careers. The Chaos Theory. You can just FEEL things getting away from you, a little at a time. Is it just me?

Did you watch The Office last night? Jim and Pam got married, and it was just the sweetest wedding...I'm thinking about the moment in the car when Pam told Jim she had been advised to take "mental pictures" of important moments during the wedding because it goes by so fast. And it's true, isn't it? Actual photos are great but can't always capture the feeling that went along with the moment. Plus you never have your camera on you when the really good stuff happens. Life is unpredictable that way. Pam spent the weekend taking mental pictures with her imaginary camera, and it was so precious. I am going to do that more often. Because I do feel the important moments slipping out of my memory, like precious water, as I toil to hold back the chaos flood.

Here were my mental pictures this week...I try to write them down if I'm near a pen. This week, while driving in the car, I wrote the following on the back of a flyer from school:

Foots asleep dotty. good comics - apple jacket. Dec 5 signup gym. hypnotizer/appetizer.

Now some of that, I must admit, I have no idea what it means. But this is what I remember. Small Fry saying she was shaking her foot in the back seat because it was "all dotty." Which means it had fallen asleep, and she was deliciously describing the pins and needles feeling. I think the hypnotizer/appetizer has to do with our recent vigorous use of hand sanitizer. (Swine flu, you know.) Small Fry is either washing with hand hypnotizer or a hand appetizer. She herself is not sure which, but it's definitely one of those. The apple jacket, well ... I just have no idea. Oh yes, and I need to write December 5 down on my calendar. Registration for gymnastics.

Click.

In Praise of Self-Centeredness

Great post....

http://segullah.org/cjane-speaks/the-art-of-self-centeredness-in-motherhood/

Dream, Dream, Dream

There is a place I'm dreaming of.

At the end of this dock.

A place where the sun sets. Quietly, but with maximum impact.

And the moon rises. Silently, but with a beauty that steals your breath a little. And reminds you of the thing you already knew. I'm small. Very, very small.

This is a place where no one can find you. Unless you want them to. Family, best friends, birds, oysters, fish, Bobs and Bobalinas: Yes. Telephone sales hasslers, time/money/happiness suckers, uncertain workplaces, CNN and Fox News: No.

We could just hop on here and sail away, couldn't we? Why not?

We'd have everything we need. Room and board. Sky and sea.

We could eat these for dinner every night.

Or these.






I even have children and a FisherMan who are good at catching these. I'll bait all the hooks, promise. The bounty of the waters would feed us. The bounty of our hearts would nourish us. We'd be set. At least for a little while. And if we needed some Land R&R, a little cee-vah-lized company?

It's all good.

But I'd want to get back to this. ASAP. Road trip? Anyone? Anyone?

Stormy Weather

There's been a storm brewing in our house. Transitions, changes...we don't deal well. Small Fry is utterly grumpy, and Big Stuff has had it. I can just see her seething quietly about how this cocky little upstart sister of hers thinks she knows everything now just because she's at MY school, on MY bus, talking trash with MY friends. She's tries to be patient, but she simply cannot let an incorrect math fact or incomplete recitation of vowels pass uncommented upon. It just burns her up. And for her part, Small Fry has taken on a new arrogance that is breathtaking in its scope and fury. This morning, I ruined her day completely when I disagreed with her that Daddy got her up late (I think because it was still dark outside, although the time, of course, was 6:45 on the nose, just like every other day. Explaining why it was getting darker in the mornings was beyond me, prior to coffee. And probably still, after coffee). She also now notices tone of voice. Patronizing will not do. She needs to understand. Or rather YOU need to understand her. It's tiring.

They still find ways to relate though. I felt that I might laugh uncontrollably two days ago when they came downstairs to perform the "Dog Show" for us. This consisted of Small Fry following Big Stuff, on a leash mind you, and performing various tricks and doggy behaviors on command and without benefit of human voice to argue or propose changes. The show ended with the "amazing doggy headstand" in which Yogurt the dog happily stood on her head for unending minutes while doing various yoga poses in the air. I can't even properly explain to you how cute/hilarious/absurd this was. Big Sister Gets Her Revenge In the End. Never fails.

Firsts. And Lasts.

Well, it happened. The baby started kindergarten. And I'm still alive. I wasn't so sure I would make it through the first day, but there were small graces. Like a donut party and pictures and sweet traditions at the bus stop. Like furtive hugs and hand squeezes when the kids weren't looking. Like coffee and breakfast and laughs with those who understand and empathize and who don't ask what you're going to do to fill your days now. As if. And like bright smiles from two girls who bound off the bus after the first day saying things like - It was GREAT! My teacher is PERFECT! I had the BEST day! And suddenly everything was OK again. I won't say I'm not still grieving. It is a transition, after all, from baby days to big kid times and it's not easy. I search for the baby that she was not so long ago (Big Stuff has been gone from Babyhood so long, I now have to refer to pictures to find my First Baby)....I listen carefully for it as she mimics the sassy conversations of the older girls and pretends to know things she has not yet grasped. I'm pained by little things, like how she refused to let me wipe her hands and face after breakfast. I wonder where mama's girl has gone. Then today, as I jump into her path on her way to lunch, I receive my prize. Joy, joy... as she grabs my neck and lets me carry her into the cafeteria...sticky, smiling cheek pressed into mine and little hands tangled in my hair....And I thought, Ahhhhh, there she is. And I get to have her for a little longer.

Zzzzzz....Harumph!

Sometimes I don't sleep well. Cutie Pie tries to convince me that we are Getting Older, and that this is a Sign of an encroaching love of elderhostels. I prefer to disagree and cling to my youth. He is giving up too soon, IMHO. There was a perfectly good reason, or make that many good reasons, why I didn't sleep on Tuesday night. There were dream beetles to battle in the girls' room. There was the dog. (There is always the dog.) There was the full sippy cup of water that leaked slowly onto my back, causing me to jump up in the wee hours, strip off my nightclothes wildly, and accuse people and/or animals of peeing on me. See, no one...whether 14 or 105... could sleep through these things. Old? Ha.

But last night, not sleeping well had to do with Worries. Ugh. I hate waking up at 4 a.m. in a relatively peaceful state only to have a flood of worries leak into my brain from all directions. I hate having ridiculous, repetitive conversations with phantom people in my mind...I should have said this, I should have done that. What if this happens, what if that doesn't happen? Why is it that we feel so small at 4 a.m.? So insecure and wobbly? Does the earth shift a little beneath our beds in the dead of night, causing us to wake in a slightly panicked state and we're not sure why? My mind had a life of its own because even though I prayed with conviction that my worries should be laid at His feet, my brain kept saying...yeah, yeah...laid at His feet.... except for this one.... Truly annoying. But I learned today that my prayer was heard. Because today brought restoration, reassurance and encouragement. All may not be exactly right with the world, but it's okay. He is with me. He is with them. The beetles weren't real. It was just water. It's okay to sleep now. The Guard has the watch.

Always Close on a High Note

Well, the time is closing in fast. You know what I mean....Summer: End. Kindergarten: Begin. We have been busy as bees getting the girls ready for the First Day. Kindergarten screening? Check. New backpack? Check. New shoes? Check. School supplies? Check, check. I've refrained from crying for the most part. Cutie Pie, always the realist, just shakes his head at me and wonders at my sentimentality so I've been working on fooling him with my Strong, Take-Charge Attitude. One of the sweetest moments was taking Small Fry for her back-to-school haircut. Big Stuff, who is Retro and a born again Hippie, although she has no idea what those words mean, has eschewed haircuts in favor of growing her hair "really, really" long. But Small Fry is still happy to climb up in her airplane chair and let Miss Tina make her into a living doll as often as I suggest it. One of the more adorable moments is when Miss Tina weaves a small braid into her freshly cut hair and sticks brightly colored jewels on the braid. I mean, words do not express how cute this is. And so I drag my melancholy self home, thinking all the while of the pure innocence and sweetness of my youngest child. A few minutes after she is sent up to get a shower, she calls to me from the top of the stairs. "Mama?" "Yes?" "Look at this." Giggle, giggle. And what do I behold at the top of the stairs but my innocent girl, stark naked, with three strategically placed brightly colored jewels stuck to her person. From kindergarten to bellydancing school....my, how time flies.

PS - And for my readers who are also real-life family and friends....My kids, one of whom can now read and Google things faster than I can, do not exactly know about my blob, as GG calls it. Which is how I like it. So keep it on the DL, people. I'm already in trouble for telling you things on the phone, I can't imagine the trouble I'd be in if they started reading about themselves in cyberspace. Dang, I've got to start putting bells around their little necks. :-)