I readily admit that the Christmas season kicks my butt.
I get overwhelmed by the pressure of it all, saddened by the consumerism, frustrated by the greed, and worried about spending the money.
Tis' the Season to completely freak out.
But this year, I felt myself compelled to seek out an old friend, a book, actually, by a personal hero of mine, Dorothy Day. The book is The Long Loneliness, and I picked it up this morning and started re-reading it.
"We have all known the long loneliness and we have learned that the only solution is love and that love comes with community." --Dorothy Day
If I stay with these pages, I think I'll make it to the Epiphany in fine form. Thank you Dorothy.
For Little T: My wish for you this Christmas is that you learn to think first and scream second. Because that thing you do in the car, when you object to something I'm saying, or something someone else is saying, that blood-curdling shriek? I think it endangers us on the road and I would like it to stop. Lest you think this is a selfish wish, I have the best interest of your vocal cords in mind here, sweetheart. You could probably do permanent damage to them if you keep up that obnoxious behavior.
And I also wish for you that you charge into 2012 with as much joy and verve as you are closing 2011 with. And maybe a movable stuffed animal puppy.
~2~
For Lady E: My wish for you this Christmas is that the adults around you find ways to respond to your bright, inquisitive, lightening-quick mind. May that brain be lit on fire and may that fire grow and grow throughout your life. May you remember us little people when you are famous for some fantastic contribution to the life and culture of humanity.
And I also hope that your siblings put several "TEASING FREE DAY" coupons in your stocking. They are ruthless, aren't they?
~3~
For La-La-Loopsie: I wish you so very much, my first born daughter: May you be showered with art supplies and soccer gear, and may you be deprived of mosquito bites, paper cuts, twisted ankles, broken bones, and bonked heads. We've had enough of those, yes?
And my other wish for you is also a wish for me: that you and I enter your tween years with the best possible mother-daughter relationship. May we talk and talk. May your inevitable disgust with me be delayed as long as possible. May the peace and promise of Christmas become the peace and promise of us, together.
~4~
For my 2nd born, Yeller-At-The-Wind: May you live in the land of art supplies and legos all the days of your life. And may there be Fire-Bellied Toads there, too. And a life-time subscription to National Geographic Kids. Sorry, I do not wish for an endless supply of nun-chucks and wii remotes.
But I do hope that for Christmas you receive the gifts of peace and confidence. Fortitude. Kindness. Thinking first, yelling second. (We could use a family-pack of that one around here.) May your amazing sense of humor continue to bring all of us laughter and joy. And perhaps I should also wish for a slight tempering of that sarcastic wit: trust me when I say it will get you into trouble in your life. This Christmas, let's hope Santa sticks a small box of mellowing agent in your stocking. And for you, dear son, may all your wishes come true.
~5~
And first born, O Great Experiment: My Christmas list for you, much like your own, is endless. Like I do for your brother, I first and foremost wish you peace and confidence. Confidence and peace. Peace and confidence. An infinite mantra of confidence and peace.
And so much more. I wish you parents that learn how to give you that confidence, parents who figure out how to set boundaries with more love than frustration, how to be detached so that you can grow up without us getting in your way but with as much help as we can provide.
I wish for you to be brave and strong. I wish for you to break your goal scoring record in a single season. I wish for you to play guitar until your fingers bleed. I wish for you to rest in the knowledge that you are loved beyond your comprehension and that your presence in the world fills me with gratitude. You are a light in this strange and complicated world. May you learn to walk by your own light, and not the lights of the strange and complicated world.
~6~
For my dear spouse: As one half of the sacramental We, I wish the same things for both of us: Sleep. Exercise. Good wine. Great beer. A quiet morning or two.
And what we need more than anything: Grace. To see our life with right eyes, to respond to broken dishes, spilled cider, car troubles, children's fights, miscommunications, muddy bathrooms, limited options, 1940's kitchens, and lost soccer balls with grace. To wake up with the confidence we need to give to our children. To treat them with the patience we want them to show each other. To enjoy them. Every day.
~7~
And for myself. See items 1-6 above. I seem to have a lot to wish for this Christmas. And none of it can be found at Target.
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Please visit Conversion Diary for more Quick Takes! Merry Christmas everyone!
The other day a friend of ours brought 5 coca-cola cans over for my children. He was dropping off a bunch of other stuff, and thoughtfully decided to include the sodas so that I could enjoy the resulting caffeine-induced frenzy: THANKS!
This was in the morning. So of course, I didn't let anyone have a soda that early in the day. And even though coca-cola cans look exactly alike, and even though it does not matter which one you get, my 5th born child decided that one particular can was definitely hers. She wanted a label on hers while the cans chilled in the fridge. She brought me a very small slip of paper and instructed me to write the following on it:
"No one drink this soda, because it's Tallulah's and if you drink it, then after I take it back and drink it I will hit you in the head with it."
She knows how to protect her own.
And no, she doesn't get that violent streak from me. I am a peace-loving person. And I don't even like soda.
I don't know where she gets it. I don't know why she calls people stuck in traffic "suck-ahs" as we comfortably pass them from the carpool lane. I don't know why she asks her sisters questions like: "Do you want the passcode to my butt?" I don't know why she screams like a chimpanzee whenever anyone is saying something she doesn't want to hear.
But I do know, without a doubt, that this is one joyful, free, confident, irrepressible kid.
And I know I'm willing to put up with a lot in exchange for a joyful, free, confident, irrepressible kid.
Actually, I should rephrase that: My husband is a teacher, and he used to get paid to teach full time.
Six years ago (or was it 7?), he left the classroom for the garden, and began designing native plant gardens for a living. He's good at it. He created a virtual paradise for us here, and when other people started asking him for help in their own gardens, he -- we -- took the leap and he changed careers. He can visualize and then create really beautiful outdoor spaces.
But he's a teacher at heart.
Flash forward six years. (Or maybe 7?) The other night, he stopped into a local liquor store to get me, his grateful and lucky wife, some Stone IPA. There, behind the counter, was a former student.
"Mr. A! Whoa--that is so wierd! I was just talking about you an hour ago!"
This was a kid Mr. A remembers well, and was delighted to see. But an hour ago? So Mr. A asked him why on earth he was thinking about his high school English teacher one hour ago. And the kid (young adult) said:
"Because I was writing a poem."
Could there be more golden words to an English teacher?
Turns out, this kid (young adult) works part time at the liquor store, part time at a local hardware store, both of which help him write and play music. And with the good fortune or Rick walking into his liquor store (the good fortune of Rick having a thirsty wife), he had a chance to do something not many of us ever have a chance to do: tell a teacher that he or she made a difference. He had a chance to tell his teacher that he has never forgotten the lessons he learned in Rick's class, that Rick was the kind of teacher that a student takes with him everywhere he goes in his life.
He was writing a poem. And that reminded him of his high school English teacher.
You never know what impact you have on the people around you. Unless they tell you.
Go tell someone what they mean to you. It will make their day. I know, because over the top of my Stone IPA bottle, I could see the light in my husband's eyes as he told me all about this chance, and most fortuitous, meeting.
This week marked the birthday of Dorothy Day, one of my personal heroes and saints. So this first take is devoted to her. She said:
The greatest challenge of the day is:
how to bring about a revolution of the heart, a revolution
which has to start with each one of us?
In the midst of the Occupy movements happening all over the country, this question is more relevant than ever.
I have two books to recommend in honor of Dorothy's birthday. The first is hers, The Long Loneliness, a wonderful, spiritually uplifting book about her conversion, her life and her work. The second is the book The Life You Save May Be Your Own: An American Pilgrimage, by Paul Elie. Described by its publisher as "the story of four modern American Catholics who made literature out of their search for God," this engaging book weaves together the biographies of Dorothy Day, Flannery O'Connor, Walker Percy, and Thomas Merton. I received this book as a gift years ago, and although it's been awhile since I read it, it remains a well-loved favorite. If not for my wonderful husband and five beautiful children (so, if not for my entire life), I would run off to live a life like these four people did: part social activist, part hermit contemplative, all writer.
Both books are well worth your time and your brain.
* * *
And that's the only important take I've got today. The rest are silly little things my kids did and said this week, and a couple of odds and ends:
~2~
Son: "Mom, can a marriage survive without dishonesty?"
Mom: "You mean without honesty."
Son, with twinkle in eye: "No, I mean dishonesty. Can a marriage survive without it?"
Mom: "Remind me to be less sarcastic with my next family."
Because clearly, it's too late with this one.
~3~
Son, looking at an animal encyclopedia: "MOM! Did you know there's such a thing as a SPERM WHALE?"
And before mom can answer, he runs out of the room to find his brother and shouts: "I KNOW WHY THAT WHALE IS NAMED MOBY DICK! BECAUSE HE'S A SPERM WHALE!!!!!"
~4~
No words needed. And none could I find.
~5~
Late one night, just as I was drifting off to bed, I heard the alarm on my son's phone go off.
The darn thing doesn't stop until someone presses the OK button. And this has happened before. Once, the phone was right next to him, and it woke up his brother, but not him, and his poor brother didn't know how to turn it off and was tormented by it for 15 minutes before he came and got me. (And yes, I suggested that next time he wake up his brother, and not me.)
This time, the phone was in the living room, and neither boy heard it. But I did, even though I was upstairs. Disgusted, I threw the warm blankets off, and stormed downstairs in righteous indignation. What is so important that he needs to set an alarm for this hour? I picked up the phone and gave the OK button a vigorous, annoyed poke. And then saw the event that was important enough for him to set an alarm: Mom's Birthday.
Oh. OK. That's worth it. Except he slept through it. But it's the thought that counts. I guess.
~6~
We went to the Monterey Bay Aquarium this week. What an amazing place. My favorites sighting? The Leafy Sea Dragon! This creature is, I think, the single most amazing living thing I've ever laid eyes on:
I want to be this guy!
I made the boys super mad at me right before we left the house that morning by telling them they could not bring their ipods. Call me crazy, but I sort of wanted to have a shared experience, even of the driving time, and wasn't interested in watching them bury their faces in electronic devices and plugging their ears with headphones. So we had a high grump factor as we began our day. But then, we listened to the story From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler during the car trip, both directions, and lo and behold, they all loved it. This is a great story, so I guess I'm offering up a second Recommended Reading (or Listening).
The day was great. The traffic at the tail end nearly killed me. I can't wait to go back.
~7~
My youngest asked me this week: "Mommy, how does a person come from another person if the person the new person comes from is already in the world?"
Translation: how are babies made?
I think she was confused because we had been talking a few days earlier about how we all come from God. So she's thinking something like: "Wait. A baby comes from God? I thought a baby comes from a mommy. And a mommy is here, not in Heaven with God. So what's the deal with that?"
I told her that it's kind of like planting a seed, and that God (!) plants that seed inside a mommy, and then the baby grows from there. She said:
"I don't get it."
I tried again with basically the same idea. She said:
"I don't get it! How does a plant become a person?"
I tried to explain that the seed in question is not a plant seed, that it's a person seed. She said:
"Whatever. Can I have some candy?"
Yes, sweet Jesus, yes!
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Please visit the 7 Quick Takes host at Conversion Diary, follow a few links to other Quick Takers, and throw out a comment or two.
I don't care if Monday's blue • Tuesday's grey and Wednesday too • Thursday I don't care about you • It's Friday, I'm in love.
And it's Friday, I'm writing Quick Takes.
~1~
Time to say goodbye to our 2011 Birthday Season! Every Fall, we have 4 kid birthdays in 6 week. The last one was a few weeks ago, but the party is officially tonight. I am hosting four little girl guests for a sleepover. There will be pizza. There will be face painting. There will be movie watching. There will be cake.
There will be a tired mommy at the end.
Hopefully, there will be a happy 7 year old at the end, too.
And thus endeth the AIRY5 2011 birthdays. If I start planning now, maybe the 2012 birthday season will go a bit more smoothly.
~2~
And this great advice letter made the rounds on Facebook this week; I've seen it before (it's been around since 2007), maybe you have too, but certainly, it's worth another read or two or ten.
Thankfully, I have no friends who have ever expressed the ignorance of the letter writer, who basically admits that she doesn't understand what a stay at home mother does all day or why a stay at home mother has less time for other people. I've never heard someone be so blunt and clueless about the subject before. So it's not really the in-your-face, take-that quality of Carolyn Hax's response that I enjoy, although that is pretty delightful. Rather, it's the reminder to me of what I do all day long. It's easy to forget what we moms are doing here, raising kids and such. Stay at home dads (HM) too. Anyway, everyone should read this, especially if you are in the trenches, wiping butts and noses, cleaning messes, doing laundry, negotiating toddler peace deals, and wondering where you put your sense of humor.
~3~
Obligatory halloween costume photos.
Jessie
Andy Samberg, Random Clown, Judy Jetson
Pajama Girl
~4~
I ♥ Stephen Colbert. And Michael Pollan. And food. So this video clip? Is golden.
If you live in the Bay Area, and you like nurseries and finding lovely native plants to stick in your garden, there is a little out of the way nursery you really must visit. Native Here Nursery, which is part of the California Native Plant Society, is a fantastic small nursery located in Tilden Park. Going to visit is like stepping into another world. It's quiet and woodsy. The plants are healthy and inviting. You'll feel like you stumbled upon a well-kept secret. And you can combine the trip with a hike in Tilden Park and a visit to the Botanic Gardens.
You really must go.
~6~
My kitchen, this morning. Kid X turned around and shouted at Kid Y, for no reason: "YOU'RE DUMB!"
Five minutes later, Kid Y walks into the living room and whacks Kid X, who responds with incredulity.
Mom: "Well, if you shout at someone and tell them they are dumb, you should expect them to be unhappy with you. It's not surprising she would lash out at you."
Kid X: "Oh come on. That was five whole minutes ago. And she already hit me for that!"
Oh, well, in that case, it makes no sense whatsoever.
Sigh. Kid logic makes me crazy.
~7~
And one more little Halloween gem for your enjoyment. This Shouts and Murmurs column appeared in the Oct. 24th 2011 New Yorker magazine. I think you will enjoy it.
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Please go visit Conversion Diary, the host of 7 Quick Takes, visit the links of 7 Quick Takers playing along, and through out some comments.
I received an email this morning that started out like this:
Dear Friend of The Writer’s Almanac,
We’re writing because we need your help to support The Writer’s Almanac digital content, such as our daily e-mail newsletter, podcasts and extensive audio archive.
You can listen to The Almanac in the time it takes you to drink one cup of coffee or make one sandwich. Its purpose has been to make five minutes beautiful and memorable.
That's all it took. I clicked through. I gave some money. Because The Writer's Almanac does make five minutes of my morning memorable and beautiful. Not that I get to listen everyday. In fact, I listen maybe 50% of the time, and 50% of that time, my kitchen is too loud for me to really hear anything.
BUT! I still love it, and when a little gem of information or poetry breaks through the cacophony, my day is enriched. If you are so inclined, join me. Click here and give.
Poetry, history, anecdotes, and Garrison Keillor's lovely, soothing, resonant voice: that's a pretty great way to start the day.
The five AIRY5 children are all sick. That's 5 stuffy noses, 5 sore throats, 5 aching heads. Time for 5 little shots of whiskey, all for mom to make it through the day!
Since everyone is sick, this will have to be the quickest 7 takes ever. So for the remaining 6, here are some homeschooling takes I've been thinking about lately:
~2~
I highly recommend Draw Write Now for Language Arts for young children. My girls are all enjoying these activities immensely, and ask to do them even when we aren't "doing" school. Here are some of our creations:
~3~
Reading out loud is magical. We are currently reading By the Great Horn Spoon, by Sid Fleischman. Reading out loud makes us slow down and spend time together. By reading out loud to my kids, I have discovered that my reluctant readers are amazing listeners: their comprehension is outstanding, and I would not have known that without taking the time to read to them.
~4~
When I showed the kids on an atlas that in order for gold-seekers to get from Boston to San Francisco, they had to sail all the way down to and around Cape Horn at the bottom of South America, my son said "Why didn't they just cut a channel through THERE???" pointing directly at the spot where the Panama Canal is today.
Great idea kid!
~5~
Tuesdays are movie day at our little escuela. I usually pick a movie that has some (but not oodles) of educational value. I mostly just look for great stories. This week, we watched Chariots of Fire. Last week, it was Maverick.
But this take is about Netflix. Oh Netflix, WHY is it that 95% of the movies we want to watch are not available via Instant Streaming? It's making me crazy. I think of a great movie, we get all excited, and then BAM! Our hopes are dashed by seeing the dreaded "not available" in the Netflix search results. Curse you, Netflix!
~6~
In a few weeks, we are going to the Monterey Bay Aquarium for a field trip. I'm a native Californian and I've never been there. I might be more excited than the children. If you've been there, please share a highlight: what should I be sure to see? What was your favorite part?
~7~
My little 5 year old is soaking up the learning.
Yesterday, I was flipping through Brain Quest cards with her older sister, and we came to this question: "If you have 12¢, and then you find 4 pennies, how much will you have?" The 7 year old guessed 14, and when I said "Nope! Try again!" the little one piped up: "16!" All 5 of us in the room did a double take.
She probably memorized it from hearing the same question before, but it was pretty darn funny, I must say. We all got a big kick out of it, and now, everywhere she goes, she's telling people she meets what 12 + 4 is.
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Visit the original 7 Quick Takes at Conversion Diary. Click on a few links. Throw out a few comments. Enjoy your Friday.
Today, we both shed tears of frustration for the same reason: not getting what we wanted.
I understand, my sweet.
I see your amazing strength, your goodness, your will to kindness. I see you.
So no, you are not just a handful, not just a challenge, not just defiant.
You are the light of the world.
And in a darkened living room, at the close of a day that swirled with anxiety, tension, conflict, you, your sleeping sweaty-ness, your warm weight on my lap, are my reward.
One I may not have earned today, but which God in his infinite goodness and mercy, has given me anyway.
Peaceful Little T
I want this to be enough. I want to be grateful enough and clear-sighted enough to let this beautiful face carry me through the day. To keep me on the right path, to keep me hopeful, to help me be your light of the world, until you go on to light up other places.
On good days, parenting is one of the most amazing, collaborative, relational, life-transforming acts a person can do.
On bad days, parenting is basically one miserable battle between the parent's sanity and the offspring's self-esteem. Both cannot win. One goes down in defeat while the other rises from the dust and struggle.
Guess which kind of day I'm having? I'll give you a hint: the highlight of my day was listening to the phppt! of the Racer 5 cap as it was released from its bottle.
Oh, I've had the other kind of day, too. Why else would all five of them still be alive?
