Feeling awful around these parts. Like, crying awful. It’s the fibromyalgia flaring, perhaps mad after surgery. (Oh yeah, recently diagnosed with Fibromyalgia. And the surgery was for a hernia. Jealous? Woo fucking hoo.)
Here’s a good place to start if you don’t know much about Fibromyalgia.
My skin radiates pain. I ache as if I walked up 54 flights of stairs while carrying a dresser on my back, looking up the entire time. It’s akin to the ache of a really hard work out on top of having the flu. I try so hard to explain it…I hope that helps. It’s different than lupus, but shares a lot of the same symptoms.
Tears streamed down my face this morning as I put Hadley’s lunch in her backpack and said “HAVE A GREAT DAY!” in my best fun voice, with my back turned to her. Finn thought the tears were because of him, because he was being a little shit this morning, so he apologized again, genuinely. (side note: He lost his screen privileges for the day – WHY does that happen on days when I REALLY need him to be occupied by a screen?)
I exhaled deeply after they left, ate cereal and took all of my meds like a good little patient.
The housekeepers were on their way over so I took pain meds, grabbed my sweetest Ollie dog, and shuffled into the guest room so they could clean the rest of the house and here I remain. Housekeepers are the biggest luxury I have in my life and I am grateful every single time they come. It is a medicine of sorts. It calms me to have a clean house plus I don’t have the energy to do it. If you know someone with a chronic illness or someone who is sick or has had surgery, a baby, what have you, send someone to clean their house. It’s the ultimate.
In happier news, it’s almost summer y’all. I am not as anxious as I have been years past. Maybe that is because it’s still 2 weeks away but perhaps it’s because I feel prepared. Finn’s doing a parkour camp, lacrosse, skateboarding, and rock band camp. Hadley is doing rock band camp as well, but has deemed all other camps “stupid.” Hm. I think I’m more relaxed because they are older, so I don’t have to be as involved. Finn will be 9 in July and HJ is 11. Good independent ages. (Although, talk to me 2 weeks into summer when I start drinking at 3 because they’re making me crazy.)
I took the kids to Old Navy a few days ago to get a few summer necessities and I told them that they may each pick out two things. I knew Hadley would have no problem (two maxi dresses) but I was interested to see what Finny would pick out since he doesn’t usually shop with me. Both Peter and Finn don’t care what they wear as long as its comfy so I usually just buy stuff for them.
He chose a straw fedora (? – so cute) and a pair of slip on addidas like flip flops. He wanted them, but he was torn because all of the other kids wear between the toe flip flops and he didn’t want to be different. I leaned down and said “Who Cares? Uncle Vince doesn’t wear between the toe flip flops either because he doesn’t like them and he’s the coolest.”
Finn’s face relaxed and he smiled. That was all it took. “Oh! Ok, good. Then I’ll get these.”
While they were perusing, I collapsed on a bench near the dressing rooms. I somehow got involved in a debate between a woman and her girlfriend about which bikini looked better on the girlfriend. It was one of those moments that I love where you develop a familiarity with strangers really quickly that makes them feel like dear friends and that we’re all in this life together, which we are.
xo
Rare Bird is in full tilt tweendom. She’s all about being in her room, listening to music, playing with her hamster, texting, watching teen shows or practicing bass and guitar. It’s cute. I have to squelch my urge to push her outside and say “go play!” like I try to do with Finn because, as she has told me, she’s older now and doesn’t “play.”
I so enjoy being with her. She’s smart, observant, creative, sweet and incredibly empathic. Her head is in the clouds most of the time, which can be frustrating as the mama, but tis often the case with smart creative types, so I try to have a sense of humor about it. (“try” being the operative word)
At 10, she already knows about everything you could possible think of so there is no need to have any “talk” or embarrassing afterschool special moment. We told her about sex at 5 so it’s just been an ongoing conversation. We’ve covered everything in a very matter of fact way.
One day, a few months ago, she said “I think I want a bra.” “Yeah, we should probably get one.” I said while pulling up GapBody online and checking out the cute pullover versions.
She wore it for a week and declared “Bras are uncomfortable!” I said “Yes, they are! Why do you think I take mine off the second we get in the house?”
Same thing happened with shaving. She said she wanted to shave. I showed her how and bought her some razors and shave gel. I told her it was a pain to keep up, but she wanted to do it. A week later she said “Shaving is a pain!”
Yup.
I guess my point is, I wanted her foray into teenagerhood (is that a word?) to be smooth and organic, not awkward and fraught with shame and weird conversations. So far, so good.
Since she was little, I have tried to educate H (and Finny too!) about the importance of taking care of your body, including your skin, teeth and hair. (Finn wants a Clarisonic for Christmas. A fact that delights me. He won’t get one. Too spendy.)
I tell them “Your teeth are the jewelry of your face. You have to take care of them!” (Other rampant Emilyisms: Mommies are Magical and Weird is Wonderful – someone please make me a t-shirt in a script font of that last one!)
I’m not trying to turn Hadley into a product whore but I do think it’s important to be aware of quality beauty products and brands. That said, have you seen The Willa line? This suuuuuper darling tween named Willa, and her mother, developed a skincare line for girls.
I bought the basics for HJ and am trying to get her into the habit of washing her face every night and applying moisturizer. Willa’s tag line is “Start Young. Stay Young.” I subscribe to her Facebook feed and she’s so freaking darling, fresh and young, it makes me feel like the Cryptkeeper. (That show was so good!)
She has also been loving her Tangle Teezer. I know it seems gimmicky and I was dubious but the thing works and Hadley loves to brush her hair with it.
I do have moments where I think “where has the time gone?” when I see my strawberry blond girl sprouting up and morphing into a little lady, but for the most part, I’m really loving this age. She’s so interesting and interested, two traits that I adore. Traits that my Dad possessed as well, which I love.
Hadley, please know that I am proud of you every moment of every day. It is a privilege to not only be your mama, but also to be in your orbit and soak up all of your sparkly magic. xoxo Mom
I haven’t been blogging my darlings. Laziness, I suspect and a bit of constricting writer’s block. Well, not writer’s block but “oh who cares about that? block”. Anything interesting I would just throw up on Facebook or just ignore it.
School is in full swing, which is GLORIOUS. (Typing that just reminded me of Laura Branigan’s song GLORIA, so now that will be stuck in both of our heads. You’re Welcome.)
Things making me really happy:
See? Makes. Me. Murderous. Those are potted plants. But now it’s GONE! I have big plans. And that gross light is gone. And the table is on it’s way out.
You know what else drives me batty? TILE. It’s everywhere. All kitchen and bathrooms have this tile. ARGH. AND…your eyes do not deceive you. That green and beige border tile? It has fruit on it. Yes. Fruit. Hideous.
BUT! There is hope. My lovely Karrie of Happy Habitat is going to come save the day and consult me on what to do to my house décor wise. (No pressure, Kar.) She has the greatest eye.
Happy day to you, noodles. To combat my fierce PMS, I’m going to get some sun on my face and blare pop music as I run errands. Wish me luck.
I’m here. I’m here!
Summer swallowed me up whole, dearies. Twas fast, loud and sweaty. There was a trip to D.C. to drop off babies with cousins, grandparents and aunt and uncle, while Peter and I scooted off to Amsterdam.
Sigh.
Oh, Amsterdam. Do you think of me as often as I think of you? When I think of you I’m on a Dutch Bike with long hair.
Then our Taylor’s wedding to the most wonderful Dave in Washington.
Sigh.
Oh, our Taylor. I wish the whole world could have been at her wedding. (So. Much. Dancing!)
The kids start school on Monday, August 13, so I’m busy counting down days and smiling.
Scuse me now, the blue eyed devils want to have a lemonade stand.
We were AT the museum with their cousins having a wonderful time and these are the faces I got as we were about to leave, accompanied by “What are we going to do NOW?”
They’re like little drug addicts. Only it’s not drugs they’re looking for, it’s new, exciting experiences.
Here they are with my nieces Lyla (12) and Ottilia (5) in a happier moment when they weren’t so bored they “wanted to cry”.
Finn’s first grade class did reports on famous Americans last month. In addition to a report with pictures, they had to dress up as their famous American one day in order to present a live museum to friends and family.
The students were scattered around the cafeteria, in costume, standing next to the poster of their famous American. We all went around the pushed a button in front of them, at which time, they would come “alive” and say their little speech about their person.
Finny was Martin Luther King, Jr. which was very very exciting.
The following is a class picture of all of the little sweeties dressed up. Finn brought it home yesterday.
Please scan the photo from RIGHT to LEFT, as I did, looking for my darling boy.
Go ahead. I’ll wait.
Mkay. Did you find my son?
All of the way on the left side? Sort of away from everyone else? With no shoes on, mouth open and …this is the best part…he’s making the devil horns with this hands, a gesture famous at heavy metal shows everywhere.
Dr. King would be so proud.
I died laughing.
So so so hilarious.
Dear Finn,
Oh, my sweet sweet boy. I vow to never squelch that amazing spirit.
with love, \m/o\m/
I love to read to the kids at night. Especially now that they are into books that I like! We look forward to what’s happening next in the book. They get ready for bed and we all meet in “the big white bed.”
I read great reviews about Wonder by R.J. Palachio and decided to read it to them, mostly because I was so interested.
Here’s a brief synopsis:
August (Auggie) Pullman was born with a facial deformity that prevented him from going to a mainstream school—until now. He's about to start 5th grade at Beecher Prep, and if you've ever been the new kid then you know how hard that can be. The thing is Auggie's just an ordinary kid, with an extraordinary face. But can he convince his new classmates that he's just like them, despite appearances?
R. J. Palacio has written a spare, warm, uplifting story that will have readers laughing one minute and wiping away tears the next. With wonderfully realistic family interactions (flawed, but loving), lively school scenes, and short chapters, Wonder is accessible to readers of all levels.
I loved it and the kids seemed really into it too. Every night I’d say “Let’s see what Auggie’s up to.” Auggie narrates the first half of the book and the remainder of the book has different characters narrating a few chapters each. More than once the kids would say “Are you crying again, Mom?” I was moved on so many different levels. As a mother, a sister, and something I hadn’t felt in a long time, a 5th grader. Sometimes we’d talk about the book after we read, sometimes not. I liked hearing their reactions to things. How other people reacted to the way Auggie looks and what they said. More than once H&F were horrified at how cruel people can be. Even parents of other kids. Strangely, I appreciated that harsh truth and the fact that I could expose the kids to it somewhat safely through a book. People can be shitty. On the flipside, people can also be wonderful, shiny and brave.
I’m trying to decide on the next read. They’re really jonesing for the sequel to The Genius Files, and I’ll probably cave. It’s a good series. Lots of cool facts, action and likeable characters, which keeps Finny P interested.
Currently, I’m reading the novel The Paris Wife, about Ernest Hemingway and his first wife, Hadley. Even though it’s a novel, I find it fascinating. I LOVE tales of the brilliant writers in Paris during the 20s. Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris was so magical to me.
I knew a little of Hadley Hemingway, which I discovered while researching what to name my darling Hadley, but this book makes me want to know more.
Reading has been a lovely refuge lately. Do you ever feel completely overwhelmed by the sheer amount of information being pummeled at you everyday?
Yup. That’s me.
Taking a break and blocking it all out.
Happy Tuesday, peanuts.
Good morning Glories!
Well technically, it’s 11:30, but whatever.
My sister and I are taking our Mom to Santa Fe this weekend to celebrate her 70th birthday. To say I am excited is an understatement. I am elated to be free of dependents and spend time catching up with these lovely Padden women.
Shaking things up creatively in my life has gone well, aside from an injury. (OF COURSE, you say, because this woman is full of dramatic medical garbage)
HJ and I started English riding and it RULES! I love giving up control, being in a situation where I have NO idea what I am doing, and having the instructor tell me what to do. She literally stand in the middle of the ring and says things like “HEELS DOWN, EMILY. WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH YOUR ARMS?” That may sound scary to most, but I was craving it. I’m in so much control in my life (the mama knows all!) that to not have it is liberating. I completely disregarded the fact that the other 3 people in my lesson at times are 9 year old girls. I don’t care. Their moms, who are my age, lean on the gate chatting while drinking lattes and carefully watching.
I don’t care. Let them wonder what the fuck this middle aged woman is doing learning how to ride.
Learning something new is exhilarating and empowering. And don’t even get me started on being around the horses. They are the ultimate. So beautiful and soft. Each with their own personality and likes and dislikes. There is SO much manual work involved with riding that takes the feeling of satisfaction to the next level. It’s dirty, hard work. And so worth it. I am spent after our 1 hour lesson, which is actually more like 2+hours when you factor in tacking your horse and untacking (is that a word?) after the lesson.
I adore being with Hadley as well. We chat the whole way home about our wonderful lesson and sometimes stop for dinner, just us. I’ve said more than once “If you’re embarrassed to have your mom in your lesson, just let me know.” She assures me she loves having me there. My heart swells after each lesson, when she leans in close to the horse and thanks him for letting her ride him. Oh my sweet rare bird.
Now, to the injury part.
I have had back/disc issues since 2007. I herniated a disc, then reinjured it in 2009 after a particularly dramatic roller skating fall. (Where I swear, my innards were rearranged.) And now, while learning how to post in English riding (the act of basically standing up and down on the horse – lots of leg/thigh work) and being new to it, LOTS of bouncing up and down, I have reinjured myself. Can’t get into the spine doc until November 3 or something. So, riding is on the backburner until now and the pain can be excruciating. Here’s the rub: The pain subsides with pain meds. However, the pain meds turn my mind and body to jelly. Now, at times, that is lovely and I do mean lovely. But for the majority of my day, I can’t be jacked up on Percocet. Plus, I like to be clear headed.
In short, it sucks. But whatever. Life could be so much worse. Focus on the positive, girl.
I’m still working my way through Keri Smith’s Wreck This Journal, although very slowly. I had a delightful time actually chewing on a page. Funny.
The Mindful Life Yoga For Kids training I did in September was stellar. STELLUH. I highly recommend it, even if you don’t end up teaching. Upcoming trainings are in Portland and Miami. The training itself let loose my inner child, which was immense fun and made me think about things from a completely different perspective. The director of the program, Kristen Race, is SO knowledgeable (she calls herself a “brain nerd” because she loves learning about the brain – love it) as well as being super cool. I also am seriously contemplating somehow teaching this wonderful method, although my life keeps getting in the way. To be continued...
I finally got my knipple tattoos, y’all! Yes, I did. My bubbies are complete! I put it off out of sheer laziness and because it is spendy. ($800 – covered by insurance but we all know how long it takes them to reimburse you) They look really really good, friends. I mean, they look real! I was and am blown away. The woman who did it had lots of interesting stories. She used to be a makeup artist in Hollywood and was very skilled. She looked at my skin tone and decided upon a color palette. It was all very interesting. Although, I cringed every time she pronounced “areola.” She kept saying “arEEla.” Don’t you think you should get word down as it is the majority of your work?
I digress.
It took about 3 hours to do but we chatted away the entire time and it was dare I say, fun? It didn’t hurt, as I have no sensation but later I felt twinges in my armpit or lower chest. Perhaps nerves that had reattached themselves. I would show you if you were here. I really would. I have long since gotten over the uncomfortable look on people’s faces when I say “You wanna see??” and lift my shirt before they have time to answer. That never gets old.
Let’s see. What else?
I’m reading The Space Between Us and it is beyond fantastic. Really beautiful writing and interesting characters. I find myself dreaming of when I can sneak away to read, a feeling I adore.
I’ve been listening to Beirut’s new album, The Rip Tide, almost constantly and I’m loving it.
I hope your Friday has a little bit of joy sprinkled in somewhere. I’m making pumpkin bread, packing for Santa Fe and staying in my pajamas all day.
XO
Bonjour Peanuts,
In my constant quest to seek out the extraordinary and do things that challenge me, it occurred to me that I haven’t been doing much seeking or anything challenging lately. So, I decided to change that.
I struggle with exercising my creativity (I guess this blog is one way to express myself creatively, but you get my meaning) so I took a baby step and got this book by the awesome Keri Smith.
I’m actually having a harder time with it than I thought. My “perfectionistic tendencies” are surfacing for sure. The first page says to stand on the page and mark it up. With your shoes on. That could possibly be dirty!
I did it. And it felt oddly liberating. I daintily stepped on the page and left a little dust mark. (note to self: do over)
Hadley read through the copy when I first got it (I told her not to tell me any of the pages) and was absolutely delighted by it. She was laughing and saying she wants a copy too! It comes so naturally to kids, to dive right in, to delight, destroy and create. I need more of that in my life.
The second page (I’m going in order, like a nerd) says to splash coffee or tea on the page. Again, I hesitated, and then I just did it. And it felt good! I look forward to creatively destroying this book. Wish me luck. (I’m going to channel my most favorite artistic old same, ELK, during this project. She’ll be my muse.)
I also signed up to become certified to teach yoga to kids. It’s called Mindful Life Yoga for Kids. It looks really really interesting.
From the website: “The method is theoretically derived and informed by the latest research in the fields of cognitive neuroscience, positive psychology, social and emotional learning, and mindfulness.”
Mindful Life Yoga for Kids is a unique and innovative program specifically designed to help children develop:
I honestly don’t know if I’ll even use the certification beyond my own house. I do know that the techniques are tools I would like to have in my arsenal for Hadley and Finn.
The training is this weekend. All weekend. Friday from 5-7pm and then Sat and Sun from 9-4. I’m excited and nervous. Excited because I’ll be learning… YEAH! Nervous because lupus is probably going to be Debbie Downer as this is a lot for my body to take and I’m already feel kind of shitty. We’ll see how it goes.
And the other thing I’m doing to get out of my comfort zone is taking English riding lessons with Hadley! I’m so looking forward to it. She’s been begging for years to do it. I thought she would get over it. Who was I kidding though, this is Hadley we’re talking about. So, while signing her up, I thought “I’d like to do that too.” So, I am. We were supposed to have our first lesson on Sunday but Hadley was sick. I’ll have to get PGP to take some pics of me and my girl. I’m thrilled to be around horses. I loooooove them. And let’s be honest, the riding outfit is really cute too.
It’s an overcast day and I’m feeling fluish and achy, courtesy of Hadley and her cold. My bed beckons me.
Happy Wednesday to you. Get out of your comfort zone. It feels good. Weird. But good.
XO
I think most people don’t get that you have to work at being happy. You have to DECIDE to be happy and then work at it. You do have a choice.
One of the Old Sames (E) sent me many cards during the whole breast cancer business. One of them said “Keep Hustling to Keep Happy”. I loved it and had it taped up on my bathroom mirror for the better part of a year.
The minute I saw this temporary tattoo from Tattly, I loved it.
Can’t wait to put that sucker on. I’m also going to order some for the kids. They’re so cute!
Extra special shout-out to the animal loving girl who makes killer fudge. XO
It’s common in my life to go for periods where I feel like I’m swimming underwater. Life is going on around me and I’m aware of it and functioning but it’s all kind of a blur and I can’t hear very well or retain anything. (is that old age? Sweet Jesus, I’m 38!)
You’ll be happy to know I’ve come up for air.
All of my tests came back “normal” from my visit to the rheumatologist, which you think would be great but my issues continued. There was literally the equivalent of a “shrug” on the phone when I talked to the physician’s assistant. Super helpful, thanks!
After scrutinizing my meds, I decided (notice the word “I”) to tweek a few things and voila, instant success. So now I feel the usual crappy instead of extra extra crappy with crap on top. SUCCESS! No really, I feel triumphant.
Things are finally settling down with the return to school and we’re getting into the swing of things.
:::insert contented sigh:::
HJ has been talking about Halloween since the beginning of August. Daily. And at length. She changes her costume idea every half hour but I’m sure it’ll be some variation on mermaid/zombie/pop star/alien. She flips right to the adult section of the costume catalog and sighs dramatically, “The adults have all of the GOOD costumes!” And by “good costumes” she means the slutty witch, the slutty nurse, the slutty zombie, the slutty doll or the slutty alien.
She sweetly picked out the costume she wants me to buy and wear because it would be PERFECT for me.
Behold:
I know. It’s uncanny, right? I mean, how could my kid pick out the EXACT outfit that I would like to tromp around in at the end of October in Colorado? Hello perfect. Those shorts look comfy too, like I could bend and squat in them. I would for sure wear those again.
A-hem.
The blue eyed devils have been extra cute lately, and by lately, I mean this morning. Ask me this afternoon at 5:34pm and I’ll tell you I never said they were extra cute.
I digress.
Hadley and I are in the midst of redesigning her room and her sketches and ideas are so super fantastical and creative. I love it. I promised her she could do whatever she wanted. It’s going to be nutty, y’all. Must remember it is not my design aesthetic. It is an extension of her personality and creative self. (I’m telling myself this more than I’m telling you.)
We are now to the part where I tell you cute stuff my people said:
Enjoy this video of Gala Darling’s wedding. I smiled, sighed, teared up, and felt like my heart would burst all at the same time. Don’t you just love love?
Happy Wednesday, little garden gnomes.
If you have a daughter who is a tween or older and have shopped for clothes at Target, you may know where I’m going with this. The clothes in the newborn to 5T section have THE cutest stuff. And I’m not just saying that because everything is all teensy weensy and cute as hell. No, they use really great fabrics and cute styling. The girls do anyway. Boys clothes are a whole other post.
Apparently, after you grow out of girls 5T though, your option is to start dressing like a little tart, or wear matching sweat suit ensembles, or ridiculous uncomfortable getups from their new Disney Teen line. Target, who are your buyers? Fire them.
It’s so frustrating. When I’m there to pick up other things, I’ll cruise through the girls section looking for something to pick up for Hadley and it’s soul crushing. Crappy fabric, no imagination and stupid and/or slutty. One may argue that this is “the style”. I call bullshit. Hello Crewcuts? GAP? Mini Boden? Hanna Andersson? (I swear by their pajamas.)
Occasionally they’ll have a guest designer with a collection that doesn’t suck. Liberty of London and the most recent Calypso come to mind, but for the most part, it’s suck city. Target’s tween/teen department needs an overhaul.
HJ likes to dress funky but I still want quality and somewhat classic styling. Plus, she’s a stickler for something being comfortable. It’s a difficult balance though because HJ is attracted to a lot of the cheezy crap. I’m pretty sure I’ve perfected my facial expression and tone now when she shows me some horrific shite outfit. An arch of the eyebrow and a subdued “Wow!” I can’t squelch her style or make her dress how I want her too. I accept that. There is a happy medium however.
She loves black. What can I say? She’s my kid. It’s my uniform. I struggled with this for a while, thinking, “she’s too young to be wearing black.” But then I deemed that voice stupid and banished her from the kingdom. A recent jaunt to Nordstrom produced skinny jeans, a black cotton sleeveless dress, and calf high black sequined high tops. Worn all together. She was in heaven. So was I actually. She didn’t look like an asshole. And then, the piece de resistance is that my little rare bird hot glue gunned a tiny plastic top hat to a bobby pin to put in her hair.
Oh sweet girl.
I just read this article on HelloGiggles that prompted me to finally write this post. In the article the writer focuses more on the slutty factor, which I see as well. This picture, from the teen/tween section at Target is completely ridiculous. Hopefully the girl on the left is saying “What the hell are you doing hanging out in your bra?”
So for now, as Heidi Klum would say, I’m sorry Target, you’re out.
Today my Dad would have turned 70 years old.
I knew this fact but it snuck up on me just the same. I found myself crying yesterday remembering something pretty great about him and realizing how much I miss him.
In honor of his birthday, I was thinking of things we could do that remind me of him.
Perhaps a trip to the bookstore, as he loved books and had a particular fondness for poetry. He knew lots of poems by heart and also had tons of really great quotes floating around in his brain to pull out at appropriate times.
A trip to the hardware store always reminds me of him because he could make even the most mundane thing magical. Now that I’m older, I get it because Peter is very similar. It’s a man shop full of lots of stuff, or as my Dad called them, “treasures”. We would slowly walk down each aisle and he would grab something and say “Look at THIS! You know what this does?”
Or a trip to the museum because he loved learning and never stopped asking questions or wanting to know more about something I can still hear him say “Isn’t that neat?” (Keep in mind, dear reader, that the use of the word “neat” may seem old fashioned or perhaps even lame these days but the way he said it was so earnest. If he said something was neat, it was pretty awesome.)
I thought of him yesterday because I took the kids to Wash Park in Denver to rent a paddle boat and then have a picnic lunch. (I would like to publicly thank my mom and sister, who, when I told them the story of what we did, appropriately gasped and ooohed and ahhhed, validating that I was, in fact, a fun and generous mother.)
Imagine my dismay that they complained and fought most of the hour on the lake. Wha? This is fantastic and novel, you should be overflowing with gratitude!
Finn hated it but Hadley loved it. My little naturalist was in heaven pointing out cormorants and pelicans, along with a flock of ducks, of course. One duck followed us the entire time and Hadley named her Amelia. She said more than once she wished she had a notepad and her bird monocle. Finn was bored and doesn’t enjoy anything where you’re sitting still for long periods of time.
We ended up taking the boat back early because I couldn’t handle the fighting anymore. We got our lunches (me talking through my teeth and dragging them behind me) and sat down to eat. H&F noticed squirrels and started throwing Goldfish crackers to them. Pretty soon, we were hand feeding one of the squirrels. Finn said “This is the best time in my entire life!”
Really? In your entire life?
Life is funny that way. The thing you expect to bring the most joy, often doesn’t. And the ridiculously simple things can often bring absolute delight. The three of us gushed about how we each hand fed a squirrel while walking to the car. My Dad loved Goldfish crackers and hated squirrels. He called them “tree rats.” I laughed to myself thinking of the things he would be saying if he was there.
I’m sure I’ve mentioned many many times before a quality that I loved about my Dad but it’s worth repeating because it’s a good one. Every time he saw me, he lit up. That means SO much to a kid. It meant so much to me. To see that he was genuinely happier because I had arrived. I keep that with me all of the time and try to do the same with my kids.
My mom and Pellegrinos are coming over tonight for dinner. We’re going to toast Roger Padden. Often times, when we were together, he would raise a glass and say “It’s good to be with you.” Simple, yet perfect and heartfelt. I find myself saying it now too.
Happy 70th, Dad. It was good to be with you.
That line from Raising Arizona popped into my head when I starting writing this post. Remember that scene where relatives Gale and Evelle Snoats are visiting Hi and Earl H.I. and Ed and they read the sign that says “WELCOME HOME SON!” Then they turn to H.I. and Ed and say “Where’s he been?” It always makes me laugh. What in that movie DOESN’T make me laugh? Such a classic. (Edited later: Many thanks to “Anonymous” who corrected names for me. I prefer to call him “my brother” though, instead of “Anonymous”, it just sounds better.)
I haven’t blogged in many moons. What can I say? I got sucked up into summer and any spare minute is spent doing nothing or everything. I have also felt extremely pedestrian and like nothing I’m doing could possibly be of any interest.
However, here I sit, ready to regale you with bits and pieces from the land of Suburbia. In a list, of course, which is what I seem to be doing lots of lately. List-making that is. I have 5 going right now with all of the things that must be done before we can leave for Asheville, NC on Wednesday. This family needs a good dose of Grammy and Bompie and to relax with the rest of our family. This town rules. It really is so fantastic. I’m looking forward to doing LOTS of nothing.
This summer I vowed to do more with the kids and I’m freaking exhausted. I have a love/hate relationship with summer. There are aspects of it I love: lazy days, more light, berries, swimming, picnics, having nothing that we HAVE to do, driveways drinks with my neighbors. But the part I fear and dread is being a full time camp counselor. And believe me people, I have been one this summer. And I think I’ve been a pretty freaking good one. I’m tired. Quite honestly, I’m tired of them being here all of the time. I’m tired of the house never really being clean because they are always here. I’m tired of not having one minute to myself, unless it is the time between when they go to bed and when I fall asleep, which is roughly 45 minutes, and no, that does not count as quality self time.
Rant over. I love my little sun kissed wombats. I really really do. But I wouldn’t be too terribly upset if the school called and said “Mrs. Provost, it’s an emergency! We need the children back immediately!”
Oh sure, I would fake disappointment for their sake, but inside I would be planning out my first few days of freedom.
Things that have been making me happy lately:
On one of the many rainy days lately, the kids busted in the door from school on a mission. Like junkies looking for crack, they tore the house apart looking for art supplies, dumped everything on the table and got to work.
Intrigued, I made a cup of tea and joined in.
I was delighted watching Finn’s creative process.
I’m so familiar with Hadley’s. It’s organic for her. It’s who she is. Art literally seeps from every pore on this child. Peter and I compare her to Edward Scissorhands. She’s frenzied in her working style, with paper flying everywhere, moving at a manic pace but the outcome is always a detailed, terrifically imaginative piece.
Finn’s talents are coming out slowly over time as he ages. I’m enjoying seeing his confidence and talent bloom. He is thoughtful and methodical, favoring order and symmetry.
I loved the piece below for one specific reason. (ignore the water stain on the right. I did that.)
He was chewing a piece of gum while working and the wrapper was still on the table. I saw him pick it up, twist it on his pencil and go to glue it down. He looked up at me and said “Is this ok?” I assured him it was and that I loved it.
And I do. In fact, I think the gum wrapper is my favorite part.
Long after they had abandoned the art for video games, I stayed and finished the tissue paper “P” I was working on, drinking tea and listening to Adele’s “21” for the 7 millionth time. I love how it turned out.
We are a science loving family. Big time. Everything is a potential science experiment. I mean EVERYTHING. (PGP lives here after all.) So there was much excitement when Finn’s kindergarten teacher sent out a letter saying they were having a Science Fair. Love it! It’s never to early to start getting your science on.
Finny P loved the whole process and was SO into it. Peter, of course, the ultimate science fair pro, having done a trillion, was the master. (Honestly, I don’t think I have ever done one. Ever.) There was lots of hypothesizing and analyzing. As well as lots of creative juices involved in making the poster.
(note: He wanted to put the “6” next to his name so people would know he is 6 years old. It took everything I had not to object and rip it off and freak out and take control of the entire project. (exhale) BUT, I didn’t and it turned out exactly as it should. He was so proud explaining his experiment to everyone. (He made little tin foil boats in various shapes and then tested to see how many pennies each one could hold. Groundbreaking stuff.)
I watched Peter at the Science Fair today and smiled from afar. He went up to each child and asked what they learned from their experiment. He asked questions, was genuinely interested, and listened patiently as these 5 and 6 year olds rattled off what they learned. It was terribly sweet and a lovely reminder of why I love him so.
Here’s to many more Science Fairs!
(I forgot to post this on Monday. I re-read it and desperately want to edit, but I’m not allowing myself. Pictures added today.)
The kids are on Spring Break this week and I am READY. Tons of plans in the works, starting with taking them skiing today. Peter took off the day from work and we left super early.
We saw some beautiful bison on the way up. Gorgeous creatures.
I’m sitting in the lodge at Loveland watching Team Provost take on the mountain. So so so sweet! Bittersweet, actually. (I’ll explain in a minute) Peter is snowboarding and the kids are skiing for the first time. They’re naturals! I love it and am kicking myself for not getting them on skis sooner. (although judging from Peter’s sporadic texts send from the slopes, it sounds like my little Finn is getting pissed easily. He’s a perfectionist and if he’s not perfect at something the first time, he doesn’t want to do it.)
I haven’t taken them skiing sooner because we just didn’t make it a priority. Or “I” didn’t make it a priority. (I don’t know how it is in your house but if this mama doesn’t plan shit, nothing gets done.)
I loathe being cold. Loathe it. My hands and feet freeze, as does my nose. I’m not talking the usual “I’m skiing. it’s a little brisk.” No. It’s serious business. I know I’ve mentioned it before that I have Raynaud’s Syndrome, but people have no idea what that means.
My hands, feet and nose get so cold, I can’t feel them. My college gal pals used to call them “dead hands.” They go bluish white and numb. The numbness could go on for hours, even after I go inside. Sometimes it’s just a few fingers. Then they get red and hot and hurt, until they finally calm down to a normal temperature. It fucking sucks. I’m not a wimp. I can’t “buck up.” There are no magical gloves that will keep this from happening. (Believe me, my dad and I tried every single pair at REI when I was younger and would go ski.) When we got here today, while renting boots and skis, I actually had the familiar sinking, panicky feeling I got when I used to ski. I had to tell myself “Oh no, lady. You’re not going. You have hot tea, your laptop, magazines and a Larabar waiting for you in the warmth.”
I tried to buck up so I could go get some pictures of them starting out. But that didn’t last long. I actually had to run inside because after being outside for 20 minutes, it had started and I couldn’t feel my feet, hands or nose.
Keep in mind, it is SPRING here in Colorado. It’s like 45 degrees and BEAUTIFUL. A bit windy, but beautiful. There’s no way I could be up here in the winter.
Before you ask, yes I had on enough clothes. Yes, I was wearing wool socks and boots. Yes, I was wearing the warmest mittens you can buy. Yes, I was wearing a scarf and hat. Yes to all of the questions you might ask me yourself and that I have been asked a million times. Nothing helps but getting out of the cold.
I’m a little pissed today because I wish I didn’t have an ailment where this happens. (I’ve been in stores before where if the air is too cold, it’ll happen.) Not to even mention the beautiful sun which is SHINING. No sun for lupus girl. No cold weather for lupus girl.
While buying tickets for Peter and the kids, the guy behind the counter said “Where’s your gear? What’s wrong with you? Get on the mountain!”
I smiled and said something about needing to catch up on some reading but the truth is I kind of wanted to cry. Yes, another instance where I look like nothing is wrong with me. (I know I know, I should feel grateful that it’s not something worse. And that I have two legs, etc but this is my pity party so just shut it for one second.)
(sidebar: Even though I overshare quite frequently, I pride myself on NOT being that jackass who says “Yeah, I can’t ski because I have lupus and Raynaud's syndrome and blah blah blah. I was at Target the other day and said to the checker “Hey, how are you?” and she said, in a VERY leading manner “Well, I’m FANTASTIC!!!!!!!!”
“Fantastic? You never hear that. That’s great.” I said.
“Well, today is my birthday and I’m very lucky to be alive.” she said looking at me dramatically.
I hate leading statements.
She wants me to ask why she’s lucky to be alive.
I’m not going to.
Because you know what?
I could answer “Guess what, asshole? ME TOO!”
I didn’t say anything. She finished checking me out and tried her gimmick on the next victim customer.)
But today, I’m pissed because I’m not out there with the rest of my team taking on the day.
End of pity party.
On the plus side, my hair looks really good and I’m not wearing uncomfortable ski boots. Those things are brutal.
More pics of the blue eyed devils on the mountain!
I volunteer once a week at the kid’s school in the art room. I want to make sure that in addition to helping in the classroom with academics, the brilliance of art programs don’t get ignored.
The art teacher, Mrs. O, rules, of course. She’s young, creative, interesting, smart and artistic. (duh) I do whatever she needs me to do and I so look forward to it. For one, there aren’t any children there when I volunteer. (Bonus!) They are at lunch. So it’s quiet and deliciously meditative. Mrs. O goes to lunch too, so we chat for a bit, she tells me what she needs done, and then she leaves. I put on my iPod and get to work. It’s deeply satisfying being in a room that is swirling with imaginative energy and fantastical creations. I’ll have to bring my camera next time. It’s badass.
Last month, when I was in the room, Mrs. O told me that she selected Hadley to participate in an art show. Accordingly, we made a huge deal about it at home, as it is a big deal. Rare Bird’s first art show. One of many, I’m sure.
All of the work is being shown at a local mall for a week. We went on Saturday to check it out.
They are allowed to create whatever they want during art class. Hadley made a dog and a mouse out of old ribbon rolls.
Here’s Finn dutifully posing. While looking at all of the other art, he said something profound like “This sucks. Can we go to the toy store?”
So we did.
At the toy store, Peter found the game KinderBunnies and immediately grabbed it. Apparently, he has played the adult version, KillerBunnies, and wanted to try the kid version out. I’m down with anything that gets us spending time together and gets the kids thinking.
The game is really fun and the kids LOVED it. I’m sure adding to the fun of the game was the fact that Peter and I agreed to play the game in the fort the kids built. We also agreed to eat take out for dinner in the fort. (note: Peter, aka Old Man River, was not pleased about sitting on the floor. He made it known and had trouble walking when he got up.)
While it was a bit of a pain in the ass, it was SO novel that the kids were freaking out and squealing with delight. I kept leaning over to Peter saying “This is fun. We’re fun parents, right? Say this is fun. They’ll remember this, right? And think we were fun, right? I mean while they are talking to their therapist about something else we screwed up….”
+++
My cleanse ended on Monday and while I was a bit sad, because I like structure, I just realized I can continue to eat this way. So I am! Modified, of course. Vegetarian flirting with Veganism. Trying to avoid gluten and dairy because it makes lupus happier. I am allowing sugar back onto the scene and I welcomed her with HUGE open arms. We did have to have a heart to heart though about her controlling ways.
It’s 65 and sunny here. Just try to ruin my mood.
XO
Happy early weekend, turtle doves.
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