Life's been good to me so far

My husband, who is at work, has slow cooker boeuf bourgignon going. Late last night while he was frying bacon and onions and searing the steak and reducing wine and all, this whole house was smelling so luscious. I bought a giant baguette and some brie to go with it, today. Having dinner taken care of clears the way for me to bake pies and make cranberry sauce and pre-cook some vegetables that will go into things later this week.

I have so much going on in my own little world, thinking about all our trips to the allergist and what they might mean, trying to do stupid amounts of cooking, cleaning, shopping and phone arrangements for Thanksgiving... I simultaneously crave that escape and love it, retreat into it even, and also feel ill at ease that things are so good and so easy for me while so much unrest is happening in the rest of the world.

I'm trying to make some decisions, based on my facebook wall (of course), about whether or not it's becoming appropriate to unfriend people for being racists. Before you say, OF COURSE IT IS, Grant and I were both raised by casual racists (subconscious attitudes, "I had a black friend once" type people) who were raised by seriously fucked up racists (people that said the "n" word and are openly disgusted by non-whites). I have a long history of having to reconcile that, for instance, my deceased paternal grandmother who read us Mother Goose and gave us quarters to rub lotion on her feet also CRIED when they hired black assistants on The Price is Right. My Nana and Pa who took me in when my mother moved away, hosted fabulous Christmases for everyone every year and did things like make sure I had bras that fit...well, it's pretty bad. They taught me that brazil nuts were called "n____ toes" as a kid and thought mixed race couples were "such a damn shame."

All our assorted relatives - along with half the people we went to school with - fall along that spectrum. My incredibly sweet and giving mother in law called us in a panic when she was down last year, to say there was "a black man standing across the street, just standing in the yard, he's been there for awhile now and isn't going away!" She claimed to be really scared and very creeped out, and wondered if she should call the police. We were like, "Um...that's his house. He lives there? Our neighbor is black..."

Actually two people I've been close to for many years are worse than anything on that spectrum, it just rarely comes up and we have so much else in common. Because I have been on a personal mission to weed out my own casual and ingrained societal racism for a few years, I'm aware of nobody being perfect and usually hope that everyone is gradually waking up to this business together. It seems counter productive to just cut people off because they haven't "evolved" and begun to question this stuff.

I am the lone voice crying in the wilderness on many comment threads where I dare to say, "Uh, seriously guys?" to the worst of it all. Which I do. It's really terrible, though. I suppose it's the ultimate in my own privilege, that I've actually been more personally upset by the ugliness people are spewing about Ferguson, than by the situation itself. Food for thought, eh?

Speaking of strange and potentially tense relations...Thanksgiving is shaping up to be really interesting around here. I'm actually pretty excited about it, even though it's hard to actually picture and Grant has reserved the right to hide in our room go to bed very very early. My sister and her kids are coming...with Frank. Frank hasn't been inside my house in 2 or 3 years, at least. Before that, it was another 2 or 3. He did stop by and hang out in the yard at the end of the night for Thanksgiving last year, drunk as all get out (and entertaining, not like terrible drunk). We get along a lot better than we used to, it's just very unusual. My kids were confused that this is a possibility.

My mother is most likely coming... and so is my Dad. Those two were both in my vicinity at once last when I lay dying. Because, you know, that's the level of severity necessary to bring them together. I woke up in the ICU like "OH MAN IT'S THAT BAD?! YOU'RE STANDING THERE NEXT TO EACH OTHER?" Before that, the last time was when Grant and I were teenagers participating in a live nativity roadside scene. I remember crying out, "It's a real Christmas miracle!" When I was a little kid, the agreement was that I spent Thanksgiving with my Dad's family, and Christmas with my Mom's.

My brother is also a likely candidate. I've texted with him for birthdays and holidays, and given him a gift through my mom, since I kicked him out of my house two years ago. He might be bringing his girlfriend of 3 years, who texted my sister this afternoon, "I'm still not sure about you people." He's definitely bringing his 3 snakes, since he's afraid they'll die without him in the cold of his uninsulated home.

So that's some real holiday movie shit, eh? It actually makes me laugh hysterically to read over, but I'm usually game for an adventure.

Off I go to continue readying everything... It's actually supposed to be cold that evening (for us), and we always eat outside, so Grant's planning a fire and homemade marshmallows. I bought cider to heat up, today. All of my kids are half amped, and half already done with the endless list of extra tasks I'm giving them.

I talked to my Dad on the phone for the first time in awhile, tonight. It was good, and terrible, and...really fucking awful.

I just don't understand how my parents have painted themselves into such corners, and are falling apart to such a degree. It makes me sad for them, and sad that they aren't available to my kids as grandparents, and terrified that I don't want to ever be in the sort of positions they are :/

I don't know how you can just not consider going back to school or trying out a different industry, year after miserable struggling year, not eventually think to prioritize dental care as things deteriorate, not even contemplate counseling as decades pass and you get more and more muddled up and avoidant about all sorts of things.

My Dad has got approximately 4 teeth left. He's worried that he feels sick a lot of the time partially from decayed pieces of teeth gone by, that are still in his gums. He's embarrassed. He doesn't have any insurance - health or dental - and he lives paycheck to paycheck in a way that's very dependent on tourist (and hurricane) season. He's viciously dreading Obamacare because he works as an independent contractor - and hasn't filed taxes in over 10 years.

My Dad is only 53, guys. His arthritis is terrible, and he's never had any treatment or meds for it aside from self medicating (he was diagnosed at 20), and...oh God I just don't even know how to deal with it. He's living in near isolation and sees no light at the end of the tunnel. He absolutely will not accept help of any kind from me, either - even right after we got the settlement when I tried to gift him with something he'd wanted for a long time, he refused, and to this day if I mention ANYTHING the kids need or that costs more than I expected during our conversations, he says, "Aren't you glad you didn't spend that money on me?" :x

He is still him, with all these visible and invisible issues, and he wants to tell me hilarious stories that really make me laugh, and he sounds like he sounded when I was little - meaning, strong. Invincible. Really, really smart.

There are good things, my Dad has a few things - he lives on a canal his boat is parked in, so he can take it out whenever he wants and he gets a lot out of that. That sounds really glamorous, ok, but anyone can have an old, used boat in the keys and the canals are NOT glamorous where he is. I mean he literally has a 700 square foot duplex he's in with his girlfriend, and a car that breaks down parked out front, and lives on a canal with a boat, just like everybody else in the neighborhood. He's a mechanic and works on it himself. I'm just saying, it makes me happy that there are a few ways in which he is still living his life. He really seems to enjoy his job, too, which is kinda perfect for him.

He just also has this shame, about being broke (regardless of what I say about how I could give a shit less how much money anyone has) and his health, and the brokeness and the health also truly limit his options, and so we almost never see him :/ I feel like he is the person who taught me to advocate for myself, whether in fighting my way through the financial aid office and appeals process to go back to school or hunting down resources for my kids...but the whole concept of him advocating for himself seems too foreign. He truly acts like I just don't get it, and/or am living in a dream world, when I suggest options or avenues for him to improve any aspect of his life. It's so heavy, to think of what it must feel like to be really sad about all sorts of things that you've also just given up on ever improving.


My mother was recently diagnosed with Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease (COPD), i.e., the precursor to emphysema. This explains her quarterly ER trips for bronchitis, and her need for albuterol (as a non-asthmatic person) to always be nearby, and has in no way slowed down her smoking. It's an interesting combo, to go with the Transient Ischemic Attacks (TIA)s, or pre/mini strokes, she's had several times in the last few years. She does not exercise in even minor ways, and barely eats food. Really - one small meal or two snacks in a day feel like a lot, to her.

My mother is 49, ya'll. She's the age many of my kids' friends' parents are - and my kids' friends parents are vibrantly healthy people who take vacations, join yoga classes, knit things, have social lives and/or church communities...my mom lives in this teeny tiny place, in a crime ridden yet rural area, with a car always on the verge of breaking down. She has this night shift security job she's struggled by with for the past 5 or more years, where there is no opportunity for advancement. She reads the Twilight books over, and over, and OVER in a way that is probably not ok.


When I was growing up, my various houses (we moved...a lot) could be pretty terrible, but my grandparents were all very good, and actively engaged grandparents. My Dad's parents had some health issues at times, and didn't work, but they lived on their own, had enough money to get us (small) birthday and Christmas presents and leave $20 bills under our pillow if we lost a tooth while we were visiting overnight. They left baggies full of quarters around "from the Easter Bunny." They came along on Disney World trips, when I was little. They cooked us delicious meals and read us stories, when we stayed with them for weeks at a time. Took us in their above ground pool and on their riding lawn mower. We crouched in their windows at dawn with them, watching for deer and rabbits. I have nothing but good memories.

My mother's mom and stepdad (her "real" dad was the "pirate" - read, "international drug smuggler" I'm descended from), who were married from before my birth, both worked full-time until about 5 years ago. They always provided huge Christmas Eve celebrations for the family, including my own children for quite awhile. Laura and I spent every weekend there, as little kids, and weeks of the summer later on. When my mom checked out, that was where each of us ended up living for our high school years. I was driving Nana's car when I learned to drive, on the weekends, and they got me my own phone line and just...

I heard all kinds of stories, from my parents, about how their parents were shitty when they were young. Inconsistent, borderline neglectful, functioning alcoholics, broke as hell, etc etc. What I inferred as the natural order of things, is that people may be kinda derelict, as young parents, but then they get it together enough to take care of themselves, and pick up the grandkid slack, at some point in middle age. This seemed to be the way of the world, a pattern that could be counted on. My various stepdads and their parents seemed to follow this same trend - adults who played too many video games, smoked too much weed, got fired a lot...and their parents, older people who owned homes others could go back to in times of need, and never yelled at children who came over, despite the terrible abuse of yore that would be referenced at times. A need to size up in bras, or to get braces or have wisdom teeth pulled, was something taken to grandparents for review, when I was a kid.


The point is, my parents have not held up their end of this bargain at all. They eagerly accepted the help from their own parents, and talked shit about how their parents had sucked back in the day, and then they just kept on being total derelicts with no self-awareness, once we were grown. I mean. Do you know what I mean?

Grant's parents are not in much better shape, healthwise, though they are engaged grandparents and fully realized human beings - by which I mean, they have friends, and interests, and hobbies, and are living their lives. "Opa" provided half a house for us to live in for 5 years, too, allowing me to stay home with babies and toddlers while Grant built his resume, which is (beyond WAY above and beyond) priceless and lovely and I will never be able to adequately thank him for it. Oma has always been a great place to visit, a sure call and card on birthdays, she stayed with them all while we went out of town to Maryland in August. More importantly, since those kids needed them so much more, they have full on RAISED my sister in law's kids from day 1 of their lives - which has often been an awful lot of very complicated work.

So, I don't mean it as any reflection on their characters, when I say that it is still so scary and awful, what poor health they're in, and how totally without financial resources they are :/ My mother in law has a degenerative bone condition that causes chronic pain and a gradual loss of mobility. She and her husband have also been utterly financially devastated by him getting cancer, losing his business as a result, etc. They're in such a vulnerable position...my father in law has untreated back issues that nobody knew were debilitating him to the degree they apparently have been for a decade, until very recently. The amazing government job he had for a long long time, is no more.

Both of them, like my parents, have moved hundreds of miles away in recent years, and so are not at all easy to help out. There is also a scary, fast-forward effect, wherein more times passes between visits and thus their aging seems to happen in rapid fits and starts since they've moved. Grant and I have rarely gotten used to how old any of them looked the LAST visit, before we're seeing them again and it's progressed...

His parents are early 50s, too. It makes me wonder if maybe that's just how it is - time, and our bodies gradually falling apart.


My sister is really angry about how uninvolved our father is with our children. She remembers how great HIS dad was with us, and wants that for our kids. I get it, I really do, and I also think about it sometimes - but I don't feel mad at him. I feel like our kids (Laura's and mine) are in a totally different situation than she and I were, and NEED external relatives so, so much less. WE read to our own kids, and look at animals together, and take them swimming ourselves, and buy them their bras and their braces...they're safe, at home. They would love him, and they do love him, when he's around, but. Their lives are full, either way. Likewise with how my mother beats herself up semi-annually and vows in a passionate way to be more involved as a grandmother. I just kinda smile and nod. It's not something I'm very invested in. They don't really notice her coming and going.

My anger towards the both of them is more like, "WHAT THE FRESH HELL IS YOU FOOL'S PLAN, for 10 years down the line when you're utterly incapacitated? You're just gonna leave it in my hands, to either take your care on full time or put you in some state run, Medicare type home somewhere? Drink some water, put on some supportive shoes and go for a walk, and start repairing your credit, you assholes!"

That is partially me railing at mortality, and inevitability, as I am wont to do. Mom, Dad and the Grim Reaper all collectively piss me off.

I don't want them to die. Even more than that, I don't want them tottering around suffering and decrepit for long, torturous decades that are not much of a life.


I have these beacons, these inspirations that I look to as role models (and for hope).

Nancy is one. 65, travelling, attending births, speaking at conferences, working on her next book. She gets up every single day and walks or swims for 30 minutes. She has a great haircut, can laugh at Louis CK and is always searching for new music. Her clothes are mostly from Etsy. She really listens, when people talk. Nancy's bringing her mother (who lives alone, drives, etc) to our house for Thanksgiving.

Our pediatrician is another. He's 70, and spends every summer in South America doing charity work and care for brain injured kids. He moves with purpose and energy but stops and takes his very patient time with everyone who comes to see him. He and his wife have adopted over a dozen special needs kids over the years. His jeans are ripped up and he has a long rat tail and the embossed wooden sign hanging out in the strip mall outside his office says, "Dr Spiderman." I was actually shocked to learn his age just a couple of months ago, after going to him for many years and several kids, and then thought, oh yeah. Liver spots on the hands. Around his eyes. I can see it.

I think about my Cuban great grandmother, my Abuela, jogging around the island each morning into her 90s.


I am very aware of how much I'd like to age well - meaning, with tears and laughter but not bitterness or denial, without too much loss of mobility, with introspection and honesty. I would choose pain over loss of cognition, given the choice (which nobody is). Financial security, at least enough to cover essentials like my Nana and Pa have, would be nice.

One thing my "pirate" grandfather had that I think is enviable, is a quick death following a life lived just as he wanted it to be. The man drank all his waking hours, slept on couches (and boats) all over town, told jokes, collected stories, had affairs, got high, hung out with his dog and so forth literally until the night before his liver quit and then he spent a few unconscious hours puking up blood, and died without waking up.

My Nana, by contrast, my poor Nana, following surgery gone wrong, has been wearing diapers and struggling to discern reality from hallucinations for 4 years now, as people spoon feed her in the bed she can't get out of :/ I love her, but she can't stand to have us around and I can't help but wonder at times whether she would have wanted it this way, if she'd had a choice (which nobody does).

Both of them were, I believe, 62 years old - his death, her strokes. It was the same year. They were only 15, when my mother was born. My mother's stepdad, my Pa since I was born, is 80 and caring for Nana. He's starting to fall apart, now, but it's very recent and obviously somewhat related to the enormous burden of her care. All throughout his 60s and early 70s he was walking, dreaming, doing yard work, telling old stories, planning and executing their vacations. He took us out to see hot air balloons take off at dawn, and drug us to hot, bright, dusty things I didn't care too much about (rodeos, air shows with the Blue Angels) that were still better that NOT seeing things or going places. The world has always been very big to him, since he traveled all over it for most of his life before he married my Nana as a retiree and started a kind of second life.

I suppose the lesson to take from every really vital and with it old person I could aspire to be like is, MOVE YOUR BODY AROUND. Every day. Get out of the chair, up off the couch, etc. Keep learning, yes, and keep feeling and communicating, but also keep moving. It's mandatory.


It is so past my bedtime.

Yesterday I was driving down a 2-lanes-each-way road with a median, when a dog ran right out in front of me. I slammed on the brakes, and heard screams, and then a bunch of other brakes as a woman rat out in the road in front of my lanes and then across the median into the others - after a second dog, that I saw was twitching and lying on it's side, with some blood :/ She was hysterical, and kept screaming, picking up this very large dog in both arms frantically as a little girl I sort of assumed was her daughter ran around in front of me and the lane next to me, crying, trying to catch the second dog as cars backed up...it was really intense. And I can't help but note that though I sometimes find my faith in question, I involuntarily, automatically start sincerely praying for people in moments like that.

THEN, on the 4-lanes-each-way highway about 30 minutes later, the car right next to me suddenly slammed on the brakes for no apparent reason. In retrospect, I wonder if the driver had a heart attack or seizure. In any case it was 70 to nothing in a couple of seconds, and he was in the on-ramp, merging in lane, and I was aghast watching my rearview mirror as an instant pileup went down. Loudly. Again with the snap-reaction shock prayers, and wondering if I was in "skirting disaster" mode and this hoohaw would continue throughout the night.

Definitely the most intense drive to Miami Beach I've had thus far.

---

We spent this evening with Pandora carols, getting our Christmas stuff down from the attic. Grant got colored lights up on the house with big kids, on the roof, while I assembled this small fake tree we have with white lights, bird ornaments and little kids. We've become "those people" - each of my kids' bedrooms has a small fake tree in it, which meant we had to get Elise a $5 one today since she's commandeered the big closet as her room. And we have this bird tree. And then we get a real tree that is the Actual Christmas Tree (though I can't ever bring myself to go buy one until the prices come down a week into December). All the giant fleece stockings I've sewn over the years are hanging around the library and we have some big gingerbread and shortbread dough plans for next week.

I'm really psyched about Ananda's Christmas presents this year - we got her the big old headphones she's been begging for, with SKULLS even, and some boots I think she'll love, and ridiculous emo feather hair extensions for her stocking, and pajama pants she needs, and THIS SEWING MACHINE - that was $50 purchased at midnight Black Friday sale style, and very highly reviewed, and a Brother. It looks perfect for beginning.

I'm making her and Elise quilts based off of fabric I already have here, and doing some other crafty things for both of them as well. I linked my mother to the Harry Potter jewelry tag on Etsy for Annie, and told her Aaron wants more Calvin and Hobbes collections (she's REPEATEDLY begged for lists and ideas). Elise's 18" dolls will most likely get replaced between us and relatives - she left them at the park after PATH a month or more ago and we didn't realize until bedtime :/ She used to carry them everywhere. It looks like fil is gifting all the kids another trampoline, which is awesome (our old one started popping springs a couple of months ago and we took it down). I have Christmas pjs for all the boys. ♥

I really love this time of year. I love baking and decorating and horrible Christmas music and travelling to see family, which we are for the first time since my Nana had her stroke. I feel ridiculously blessed, even though we are really struggling with a lot of bills, because we're also doing most everything we want to and my kids have lives that make me "Squee!" all the time.

Speaking of which: Thanksgiving pictures. I really didn't get any of the ones I'd want to have, looking back, but I was busy, man!

The day before, Isaac got a haircut.


That night my Dad got here, and regaled us with wild stories like he always does, until almost 4 am.

He is a really good storyteller. The next day Aaron said, "I can't tell when Grandpa Arthur is telling just the truth...but I really like listening to him." Wise boy, that Aaron. I can listen to my Dad for days even though I've heard most of his stories a dozen times now.

Waiting for the feast: my three youngest, and my sister's two born children (she's due in February).

Left to right, Jake, Brian, Elise, Isaac, Elizabeth. I was teasing Laura the other day that I'm waiting to see what Jane Austen shit she whips out next; Brian Alexander and Elizabeth Marie? What? :p

Grant did a great job out here. He's still setting up the buffet tables (Bob's desk and the boys' play table, both made by him) with table cloths (our tv room curtains) on the right. That's most of Ananda's desk lamp hanging above the table, and lanterns we got as party favors after a friend's wedding last year scattered around with my bath candles in them :)




Laura, Grant Sr and his girlfriend dishing up plates.


My Dad and Aaron.


I don't think I got any pictures of Shaun, or of everyone together, or all sorts of other things. When I think back what I want to remember is cooking with Laura, and laying around in the hammock in the chill with kids after we were all stuffed. I'd like to forget having to force my exhausted self to PUT AWAY ALL THOSE LEFTOVERS WUT O_O

We got plastic cups at BJ's (meaning, a CRAZY FUCKTON OF PLASTIC CUPS) and every day now I see something like this at some point.



I have a couple of major things due tomorrow, and lots of other major things due soon, as 2 of my 3 classes are the "nothing is due until the end of the semester, when you must turn in MANY HUGE THINGS ALL AT ONCE" sort. And I am the procrastinating sort. I have to fit all my homework doing in around walking Elise to and from preschool at 9 and noon, riding my bike to the insurance place, feeding everyone and making them do their chores and schoolwork, and having a dinner plan. PIECE OF CAKE, RIGHT? Honestly the immediate stuff is doable (and not at night...I have to make phone contacts). I'm mostly still up to do necessary laundry for Grant's work clothes and Elise's preschool tshirt, and towels for morning showers...At least there's caffeine about the place.

This was a really calm and peaceful day which is something I needed a lot.

I slept in, spent a long time on the phone with my Dad. He detailed the pirate memorial they staged with my grandfather's ashes, on his boat down near Key West today. It included things like pouring beer and corn flakes into the water, playing a soundtrack including "Free Bird", "Knocking on Heaven's Door", "Ride Captain Ride" and a lot of Bob Marley. He believes my mother did do some real letting go and that it's what Grandpa would have wanted.

I think my Dad's pretty great. He even took a bunch of napkins out there in a ziploc to hand over when my mother started crying. There was also a (lighthearted) wake-style story-telling session that involved much laughter.

I also found out my "three century man" (as named by the Key West newspaper) great (great-great?) uncle is 114 this year O_O He lives in his own house, the one he was BORN IN, IN 1897, and he drives himself to the store once a week. Apparently we don't know him better because he's "a mean old conch". The only other detail I got is that the first three fingers of both of his hands are stained orange from camel no-filters.

I swept, mopped, vaccumed, watered plants, led the kids in all kinds of chores. My house is feeling like a nice good place to be again. I am really appreciating it immensely lately - the individual spaces that are each so good as well as the amount of space over all.

We did a lot of schoolwork. Aaron is starting on fractions and reviewing graphs and he actually did his work with no trouble today. Did you read that? I still almost can't believe it. He's also got a YouTube account through me, that he's eager to work on, and sits with me and reads about the latest in the nuclear crisis in Japan every day. Annie made sense of number lines and adding decimals. She's nearly done with the last Lord of the Rings book and is reading Artemis Fowl as a "breather" because it's less challenging. Isaac worked on filling in ending consonants, and we talked about sperm and eggs and babies. Jake worked on sorting and matching and more clocks/time. He floored me this morning saying things about how four numbers mean thousands and three numbers mean hundreds - I didn't know he knew that. It came about because my scale does "pounds point partial extra ounces" and he saw the ".6" at the end as a fourth digit and went "YOU WEIGH A THOUSAND POUNDS?!" Elise did pre-handwriting (tracing, coloring), and cooking with me in the kitchen.

Our Dover Sampler for this week came with tons of cool astronomy things I saved to print for reading and coloring. Annie is already psyched, she's on a huge astronomy kick lately.

I also realized today I need to make them Easter baskets and got kind of excited about that.

They make me really happy. I found out Fairchild Farm has a summer (day) camp with scholarships available through the Children's Trust and am applying for the three older kids (it's for 6-10 year olds).

I made chicken and yellow rice for dinner, traded texts with David, read a choose-your-own-adventure robot book with Jake and a lot of Shel Silverstein poems to Aaron, and started a new Anne Rice book. Blood Canticle. I am beyond excited because this one is actually BY LESTAT AS HIMSELF IN FIRST PERSON AGAIN and already in the first 5 pages reads faster and better than the whole entirety of Blackwood Farm ever was.

I'm gonna start the Oz books with the little kids tomorrow night.


I'm at a bit of a frustrated stand still with writing as my files and stored links are mostly on laptops that are being repaired (by Grant, who is very busy). I decided I tonight that I just have to quit waiting for that and work around it as best I can for now, which there are some ways to do.

Also a standstill I've made peace with, with college, as my financial aid has still not gone through but neither has anyone elses' and the "pay by" deadline has been extended universally so getting my appeal processed is not as much of an emergent issue.

Weight loss is not going well. I am sticking with my thyroid/metabolism/energy/kill my yeast support regimen (coconut oil, B-12, probiotics and no or low mercury fish daily), keeping what I eat reasonable and better than normal although not at Eat To Live standards, really, and trying to excercise, but, uh. My stupid ass shin splints that I got in NY last summer still act up really badly if I walk quickly or for long, particularly in the shin attached to the ankle I sprained? So what is that about? I mean walking is supposed to be my fail safe excercise as a person who medically can't do ANYTHING to strain my abs even peripherally (straining to open a jar strains them peripherally, it's ridiculous)...the shin pain gradually amplifies to "debilitating". I think I'm going to try stretching a lot before I leave and wearing my expensive NY New Balance sneakers...because, yeah, I'm an idiot and try to just walk in flip flops like I ALWAYS HAVE THE WHOLE REST OF MY LIFE before I was a super fat person with a bad ankle and shin problems due to the aforementioned time in non-supportive shoes... Those $80 sneakers have really just sat in my closet ever since I got back home many months ago... Now that my nose piercing is totally healed and infection-free I'm going to go back to the Y for swimming again, too.

Grant and I are scarily strained at times, though still seeking each other for comfort. I realized today that though we're counting down for Easter, Elise's birthday, and Ananda and Aaron's birthdays, and planning things for them all the time, we both completely forgot our anniversary is coming up (again) - and sooner than any of that other stuff. Not sure what if anything will be planned...finances could really be better at the moment. On the one hand, we could maybe benefit from some shared one on one that was positive. On the other hand, we've been getting an awful lot of shared one on one time that does not end up positive lately :/ I'm trying to focus on things we both know we're really good at together...for instance, we could stay at a hotel overnight somewhere just a couple of hours away and even if all we do is watch movies, swim in the pool and eat something delicious, hey, that could be worse, right?


I'm hoping to post a bunch of pictures tomorrow.

---

This is my favorite Shel Silverstein poem:

Rain

I opened my eyes
And looked up at the rain,
And it dripped in my head
And flowed into my brain,
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.

I step very softly,
I walk very slow,
I can't do a handstand--
I might overflow,
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said--
I'm just not the same since there's rain in my head.

---

I saw this awhile back and LOVE. IT. I don't normally like Ted Talks. At all. But this is different, profound and fundamental and I really think it's worth your time to watch.

I went ice skating yesterday. It rocked. At first I was shaky, but then something clicked from when I used to ice skate all the time and I was FLYING, and all that cold air in your face...♥ It was Grant and Aaron and I. Aaron got really fast, too. And then he was jumping and spinning, because he is Aaron. Probably if we took him everyday he'd be in the Olympics by the time he was 15. Sometimes I feel remiss for not pushing him in one focused direction whether he likes it or not. Mostly I'm just sure he would not.

Really though, disco ball colors on ice, and Lady Gaga's Paparazzi -

Wait, I don't like Lady Gaga? Right? Don't'nt I? Well, I went doing some e-search and found that...I sort of do. At least insofar as I didn't realize she actually has a pretty strong voice and can play piano and writes her own songs (all surprises) and then I saw her interviews on Ellen and realized she is a total nerd and sounds so likeable. And I like Speechless too. So there it is. I inadvertently found out that Madonna took (her 13 year old daughter) Lourdes to a Gaga concert and Lourdes was dancing on tables and things because she is this huge Lady Gaga fan.

Aaaaaaanyway. I found as I left the skating rink that the cold was not bothering me on some deep emotional PTSD level, and that was pretty rad. I think it might be worthwhile for me to do that more often just for the positive associations to build up.

Speaking of which - it is IN THE 30S HERE, tonight and tomorrow night. This is intense for us. All our blankets go in the dryer before we head to bed.

We've been on a 13 hour odyssey of watching The Lord of the Rings with Ananda and Aaron this Christmas holiday. Which is about to come to an end when Grant goes back to work, and chores and schoolwork resume - tomorrow. They love it. We do about an hour a night, with an average of I'd say two pauses for explanations and making sure they understand what's going on. It's weird how...mockable and ridiculous...parts of it seem to me now. It was the movie that invented Epic, back in the day, but now..I don't know. It's good! But. *shrug*

Today, Grant took Ananda, Aaron and Isaac to Mass while Jake, Elise and I did a mass cleanup of my bedroom and bathroom. It was way overdue. Then I took the two littles and drove up to meet G and the bigger ones at his mom's house. She sat with them all while he and I shot over to the farmer's market and got tons and tons of produce for next to nothing. Then we went back and Grant and his mom made salsa. We all drove down from there to the park to meet my Dad, who had come from Key West for the day to meet Laura's new baby. It's cool that my kids are starting to really know and be comfortable around him. And I like being honest with my Dad. There's more honesty between us since Thanksgiving. Like I told him today that I feel like Grant and I must be the stiffest squares ever in his eyes, and he was interrupting me, appalled, at how he feels like he did something right because hopefully some of the talking we did when I was young made me the way I am, yada yada yada.

I gave my brother the task of making a plan for the coming week, today. It's supposed to tell what he's going to do each day. I asked him if he had worked on it and he said, "Oh yeah. I put 'Get a job' for one day and 'spend time with kids' for another". Totally sincere. *headdesk* So yeah, we went over how breaking down things like "Get a job" into individual steps could help his success. Things like, "Spend this afternoon mastering the bus scheduling and fare system" and "this is the morning I go tour JobCorps - approve with whoever is taking me ahead of time" and so on.

I've stalled long enough with the massive kitchen cleanup that needs to be happening...So off I go. BUT!

I have this new thing. By following this link, you can "ask me anything". Obviously you could also do that in the comments of any entry or via email, except that to others, apparently, that is not obvious at all. Also you can be anonymous, which I know by now is the only way many people know how to operate honestly. I don't mean for that to sound so snippy. Whatevs. Anyway, I've enjoyed watching the questions roll in on a couple of other peoples', so here is mine -
http://www.formspring.me/altarflame

I feel psyched about life in general tonight.

My dad called me to tell me he was an hour from my house this morning, and thus ensued a mad-dash rapid cleaning spree. Aaron cleared all the toy-clutter from the front yard, took out the trash, cleared and scrubbed the dining table and moved laundry through. Ananda picked up all the clutter off the carpet so I could vaccum, put away the clean dishes, scrubbed all the ($#@! again!!!) toothpaste off the toilet lid and mirror and sink in the bathroom with a rag, and shadowed Elise so I could do things. Isaac picked up the hallway, got trash and cups off my desk and took laundry from their room. Jake did whatever I pointed at and asked him to. While I did more dishes, more laundry, sweeping and swiffering and trash bag replacing and vaccuming and then got Isaac, Jake and Elise dressed for the first time in the day, as well as finding Annie a clean shirt and Aaron all new clean clothes.

The result of this was that I got to chill in a clean house with kids that looked presentable, and combined with the visit from my dad it made the day better. Even if I know it doesn't last more than a couple of hours tops.

Laura and Brian were here, as per usual. Isaac, of course, hammed it up for Grandpa, asked him questions, showed him things and demanded to be pushed on the swing by him. Elise looked shy and said monosyllabic things in a Pebbles Flintstone voice. She allowed him to hold her rather grudgingly, twice, for about two minutes each. Ananda said hi, gave a cursory hug and hung back suspiciously, and Aaron showed off on hig pogo stick. Jake scowled at him a lot and ran away whenever my dad said anything to him. Laura hung out with everyone while I drove him over to (!) our new house, to see.

When they left Laura and I had a good lunch and sat around on the floor for a long time letting Isaac, Jake, Elise and Brian play around and between us...first they did ball type playing, for like half an hour during which Jake blew my mind with how good he is at sharing and taking turns and how much he watches out for his baby sister, and Isaac and Brian threw a lot of fits. Then they got out the instrument box and loudly did all they could with a drum, a xylophone, a xylophone style mini-piano, an accordian and a tambourine, for about 15 minutes (which was my limit, not theirs).

Ananda and Aaron have been enjoying Mario Kart on the Wii with the wiimotes dropped into the steering wheel accessories...they try to tell Laura and I things about Mario Kart, as if we could not school them thoroughly. Mario in his many forms was our entire childhood, honestly. It's worse than when Annie was trying to tell me who Sonic the Hedgehog was.


Tonight was Game Night at the bookstore so we were over there, too, and I'm excited about the stuff that I bought. They are probably excited everytime they see me walk in the door at this point, I may be their best customer :p There was...

-Mama's Milk and a glitter board book about colors with touch and feel, for Elise - these are from Nana and Pa, who sent her a birthday card with money in it that arrived yesterday.
-The boy version of Usborne's What's Happening to Me? and A Light in the Attic, which is the only Shel Silverstein poetry collection he doesn't already have, for Aaron's birthday next month.
-And homeschool supplies - we're getting ready to have a period of intense spanish language study and a neurology unit study we've been planning forever, as well as starting to "do school" with Isaac, too. We got Usborne's Understanding the Brain (to supplement things we already got at Get Smart for this many months ago), a big board book with a clock with moveable hands called Telling the Time, a big, multi-subject kindergarden level workbook that is all in english and spanish, as well as ordering the 2nd and 3rd grade versions of it, How Will we Get to the Beach?/Como iremos a la playa?, which is "an english-spanish guessing game story", and a big hardcover "I Can Read and Speak in English and Spanish" book that comes with perforated flash cards, stickers, and a cd.
-and for me, "Annie John" by Jamaica Kincaid, from the used bins

We just had one of those big pasta, chicken and vegetable meals that comes frozen in a bag for dinner, since which I've been researching schools a lot online...Isaac is SO EXCITED about doing half-day preschool this Fall. Every single day he asks me if he can go to preschool yet. I think it will be a great thing for him, although it brings up the obvious and strange questions about whether or not he'll want to continue going to "Regular" school afterwards while everyone else is homeschooled. He really, really thrives in structured, out of home environments - he comes home from AWANA every Wednesday night so, so thrilled and just raving about the time he had. Schools down here are not really an option for us, though...most of them, anyway. I really can't handle the idea of him studying for the FCAT all year long, in a crowded class, with hours of homework nightly by the time he reaches 2nd grade. My tentative plan is that he'll go to preschool half days, and if he really loves it and wants to continue he can do Kindergarden too, but from there we have to either find some sort of perfect school I'm not sure exists, or just put him in some cool extracurriculars. The place I'm planning on putting him in preschool is really close to where we live, and I went there, too - they have a good "Grade" and, more importantly to me, really excellent parent reviews from recent years on various websites where parents can review local schools...it's going to be so incredibly weird to drop him off somewhere for hours every weekday. How will I not think, what if he is throwing a huge fit right now and they can't make sense of him? He poops his pants, he's clumsier than any other kid I've ever seen. He's definitely, hands down the hardest BY FAR to wake up for anything in the morning. It's a strange dichotomy with him, that he is the least independant of my kids, and the least "simple" to expect someone else to deal with, but also the one who seems to need it the most.

It's almost time for the PATH end of the year party - it's at a water park this year, in South Broward. Grant is going to try to switch out his shifts to come with us. And it's almost time to get Annie evaluated again, and Aaron evaluated for the first time.

We're supposed to be closing on our house on Tuesday, but it looks like it might end up being Wednesday based on complications with clearing the title or some such thing. The periods of waiting without bank communication are so frustrating.

I'm freaking tired from being consistent with a 2 year old. Jake is a great 2 year old, you know, as they go, but he's already got that 3 year old force of will and desire to "win", and there are just so many times that he's testing, and pushing, and it's a really big thing with me to ALWAYS be consistent...he's just at that phase when every single time, he tests. I can tell him 500 times to stop hitting the wind chime display at the bookstore - he doesn't stop until I actually make good on my threats and strap him into the stroller. I can yell louder and louder and louder, but he's not coming back from the neighbors yard until I go and physically retrieve him. He WILL NOT stay in the room with us to go to sleep unless we go get the doorknob guard off an exterior door and put it on ours, so he CAN'T leave. Etc. Right now this kid would rather throw his food in the trash than eat it at the table like I insist (and insist, and demand, and remind). He absolutely cannot be trusted in the main part of the house while adults are in bedrooms or bathrooms for one minute, or he's got stuff out of the fridge and freezer and is grabbing things off the counter he shouldn't have, with the help of a kitchen chair.

It does not help that Elise is already at the point where she has to have her hands pulled off someone's hair that she's pulling hourly, and needs to be removed from a table top she's dancing on every 20 minutes.

*sigh*

Elise's birthday was nice. It was very low-key; My sister brought her a singing card that she danced to in an adorable way, flowers for her to rip up and eat, which she did happily, and a ball that she's REALLY in love with. We got a card from my Nana and Pa with some money in it, that I used tonight at the bookstore. And my mother in law brought over a little bag of sundresses from Target that are ADORABLE, but need to be exchanged - apparently little miss is too big for 18 month sizes already, and needs a 2T O_o When Daddy got home she had a carrot cupcake with a candle in it, after we sang to her and her siblings helped her blow it out. Grant took video, that we'll probably be uploading soon. She was really confused - "Why is my food on fire, and who turned out the lights?" But she LOVED eating it. When, at 2:45 am, she was still shrieking, laughing and jumping all over us, I was like, "Yeah, no more cake for you Miss. Geez." Whenever we finally close for sure, I'll set a date for the birthday and housewarming blowout :)

Tomorrow is a day for exchanging at Target, cleaning out and organizing the dining room shelves (where we keep all our school and art supplies, and games), and glorying in Grant about to get home and stay home for four whole days, before he dissapears to work again for another long block of long shifts. He met us at the bookstore tonight with roses for me and for Annie, and made me feel giddy about him going to sleep and leaving me out here alone with everyone by cuddling and snuggling with me for half an hour in bed before I had to get up and come back out. The only thing bad about Grant is that sometimes I feel guilty like I can't talk too much about how awesome he is, because a lot of guys are assholes :/

HOWEVER - I saw a magnet that has a man staring into a STUFFED FULL fridge, confused with his hands thrown into the air in frustration (very "There's nothing to eat!" looking). It said, "Male refrigerator blindness strikes again". Grant didn't even get what the joke was, which made me laugh my head off because really, he is so that guy. 6 years into full time co-parenting, with plenty of time alone with them under his belt, he still asks me, "But what am I supposed to feed (whichever one)? There's nothing here." It gets a little old saying, yogurt? Fruit? Crackers? Cereal? ;)

There is a news story on the Yahoo! homepage that is titled, "Atlantic Hurricanes Could Rev Up Anytime". Is it just me, or does this imply that there is REALLY nothing happening in the world right now? I mean geez, they are digging for news, aren't they?

My father came into town on Friday. He hung out for awhile at my house with all of us, then we went out to dinner - the kids and I, him and my sister. Saturday/yesterday, we swam at his hotel's pool for hours in the afternoon (Grant, again, had to work). Isaac had such an insane, HOURS LONG meltdown due to missing his nap that eventually I called Shaun to come get him, wrestled him kicking and screaming into his carseat, and Grant stayed here with him while he fell asleep. He came with us today, though, AFTER his nap, and was quite charming, albeit in his standard scene-dominating way. With his little orange and blue checked, collared, button up shirt, and a backpack full of books, cars and dolls on, he's basically irresistable. Jake LOVES the water, he swam naked like a little chubby fish. It was wonderful to reconnect with my dad, and this is really the first time that my kids have ever spent getting to know him. They played with him so much, he was throwing A and A in, spinning them, making them laugh their heads off. The last time I saw him, he was seemingly dying in the hospital.

Ananda is having a big spiritual time. She came to me asking to be baptised last night, completely out of the blue, and basically just keeps flooring me with statements and questions that strongly imply she has a very close relationship with Jesus. She is initiating bible study at every turn.

I think a lot about what "their education" encompasses, to me, lately. Because it is not really the same thing as what the local public schools consider to be education. For instance I think personal responsibility - in the form of accountability for actions, dressing and hygiene, chores that contribute to the household, and helping each other when needed - is a huge thing. I always want to write in their portfolio in the evening, that the school board says I must keep, that they did all their morning chores and said Thank You to the waiter, and this and that. To me those things "count". And then there is their christian education, which is only "valid" at private schools, and Fresh Air and Excercise, which I can at least disguise as P.E. and get some satisfaction out of. Really, though, I think that Personal Responsibility, Christian Education and Fresh Air and Excercise are probably their core subjects, as far as I'm concerned. I mean what is really important for 5 and 6 year olds to know? They are learning to read and write, and to add and subtract, each on advanced levels no less, but that's not what we work on all day or even what I think is the top priority. If we talk extensively about kindness and then they have to clean up the huge mess they made, one piece at a time, and then we go swim for two hours, and then come home and read the bible and pray together - I feel like we've been having school all day. I also notice that homeschool naturally lends itself to a strong emphasis on science, which public schools basically don't even feature for elementary school. The nature specials on tv, the field trips to the zoo and pet stores, the experiments they want to try and just kids' natural curiosity about the world all scream science. And we personally tend to spend a significant amount of time on world history and literature, which are also mostly skipped over until the teen years. They could listen to poetry and burial beliefs of ancient Egyptians and chapters of Narnia books all day long.

I don't know man, when I re-read that last paragraph it makes me think they're getting a hugely better education than they would if I sent them to school. BTW, anyone who is homeschooling, I strongly reccomend the book What Your First Grader Needs to Know.

Completely shifting gears, I LOVE the name Griet. It's an old dutch name, and yes I got it out of Girl With a Pearl Earring. Really though, I think it's lovely. Ananda and I were sitting at the dining table having tea and dark chocolate earlier and talking, and she loves it too. Grant acutally laughed out loud and asked if I was serious, though, when I mentioned it, so we'll see about that O_o Griet Amelia Walker, that would be beautiful! Damnitt.