This Weekend We

In the days leading up to last weekend, I was feeling a little bitter. I had to work two shifts, take two sets of pictures for friends, and go see Sena's play. It's not that I don't enjoy these things, but it felt like the whole weekend was just going to be a rush, and there didn't seem like there would be time to prepare for the week ahead, or to just simply be.

Somehow I had forgotten how hours can stretch on and on, making room for what you need. That days can billow, the edges blurred. Time can move ever so slowly. 

I think the change in attitude can be hugely attributed to experiencing Saturday's brisk and beautiful sunrise.  Watching the steam rise from the bay. Feeling the cold air try to sneak through every opening. Up my sleeves. Down my sweater. And coming home to a peaceful house. Tom holding Alamae while watching Unforgiven. Arlo still asleep. The two oldest sleeping over at other people's places. There was time enough for cup after cup of coffee, before collecting all four children and taking them to a Christmas parade, a very quiet Christmas parade. Wandering over to a playground, candy in hand. Watching as Alamae experienced what may have been the best moment of her life, while covered in a Twizzler, swinging over her older brother. 

There were plenty of slow moments in my busy weekend. Time for dinner with friends on Sunday night. Time for my heart to break while watching Sena on the makeshift stage in the Boys and Girls Club gymnasium. The things that didn't get done are mostly still not done. And so maybe it will be a busy week. Or maybe instead of crossing things off my to-do list, I'll just throw the whole list away. 

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Right Now

Right now I'm typing one handed while Alamae, who has taken to biting, is somewhat painfully nursing away.

Right now every closet in my house is embarrassing, as are 85% of all other closed spaces, including but not limited to drawers, cabinets, the entire basement, Tom's work room, and the refrigerator. "Junk Drawers" prevail.

Right now I am stopping myself from lamenting about the piles of laundry looming large in all corners of the house because I'm quite certain the world is sick of hearing about me complain about laundry.

Right now the boys are in the dining room playing with modeling clay that was today's gift in the advent calendar my mother made them, while Sena sleeps still. Maple sausage is in the oven, and coffee is burning in the pot, and I know I should get up from the computer because things just aren't working out with the photos I'm trying to edit for friends who need them for Christmas cards. Meanwhile I just keep going back to this picture of my children. Disheveled, disinterested children.

I wonder if scruffy can be considered an aesthetic because I'm pretty certain it is my favorite way for children to look, even while worrying that onlookers worry that my children are unloved and uncared for. Why doesn't their mother brush their hair?  For the past few weeks Arlo begs to wear his water shoes in lieu of actual shoes. Sometimes I let him. Because it amuses me. Sometimes I force boots on him. It's getting cold outside.

Later I will post pictures of a busy and yet somehow, restorative weekend. I will get those Christmas pictures off to friends. I will post about who Alamae is at nine months old. I will do all those things and more. Later. Not right now.

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Maybe I'll Be a Poet

today i decided to become a poet


when people ask me what i do, i won't tell them mother
or waitress
anymore

i will tell them "poet" and they will think I'm a snob
 and i will be one despite my dirty tee-shirt

despite the diapers i changed all morning
despite the dishes i will clear all night

but i will feel so much more like the person i am meant to be

so much less like the person i have accidentally become

and when my children are asked, they will say, "our mother is a poet"
and then i will be forgiven for the dirty floors and the wet towels in the car
for the snacks i forgot to bring to some field on a saturday morning in october

"oh" they will say as they nod their heads suddenly understanding

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Gifts I'm Excited to Give

One of my biggest complaints about Christmas gifts is the fact that for years Gus has asked for some large, plastic, battery operated thing that in some way resembles a dinosaur. There have been quiet a few variations of this request over the years, different dino/ robots du jour  Because I wanted him to get the gift he asked for with such enthusiasm and excitement, I would give in and get these atrocities, even though I had learned that he almost never played with them.  Eventually, broken, they would be relegated to the closest, if they didn't  happen to get a bit of play time and get left out in the rain to die, corroded and oozing battery acid on brown, wintry grass.

At this stage in their lives, I know what types of toys my kids actually play with, the things that get pulled out year after year, during sleep-overs or slow afternoons. The wooden swords and shields my sister bought them at the Renaissance Faire three years ago. The now discontinued Trio blocks that Joanna turned them on to when Gus was Arlo's age. The wooden blocks that stay at my parent's house and get played with several times a week.  Bits and pieces of old Halloween costumes that get reinvented in delightfully weird ways almost every time their friends stay the night.  And so I was able to convince them that these are the sorts of toys they should ask for this year. That plus loads of books.

Some gifts I'm excited to give:

• "My Favorite Color is Black" coloring book by my bff from the teen years, Jen Poteet. Perfect for those who are more "The Nightmare Before Christmas" than they are "Miracle on 34th Street."
• "The ABC's of Homesteading" by McKenzie Elizabeth. Also available as a coloring book. My favorite letter might be I: "I is for idealizing everything. EVERYTHING." 
• "Sonya's Chickens" by Phoebe Wahl. Since the mom in the story is a chubby redhead with rosy cheeks, I like it even more.  If I wasn't already hemorrhaging money, I would probably buy the planner she sells over at Taproot. 
• Boat kits from Seaworthy Small Ships, a local company run by my friend's family. I'm excited to send them down the creek near our home in the days following Christmas. 
• A marble run from The Wooden Wagon. Actually, this is from my parents to the kids, but I can still be excited about it, right?
• A few new dress up pieces I bought online on Black Friday. 

There are plenty of other things I am eager to hand out, but some of those gifts are headed to readers of this blog, so I'll keep those under wraps for now.  If you have any toys that are tried and true winners at your house, please let me know in the comments. Although Christmas shopping is pretty much wrapped up, I have a handful of birthdays right around the corner.

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Christmas Cousins

Posed pictures have stories to tell too. And these pictures have a loud backstory yelling "Ala-mae, Jettie Blythe... look over here" "Smile girls," "No, no, no, stay over there." Seven adults and two older children crowding around furniture moved out of the way to create a blank wall space. Commanding me when to click, trying to balance a wobbly five month old, rearranging ill-fitting santa hats, moving the lights to make things a little less graphic.

While under ordinary circumstances, the pictures capture a memory, in this case the pictures made them.

Two very important lessons learned: 1) I never, ever want to be a baby photographer. Never. Unless the mama is holding the baby. Then...maybe. 2) Instagram does not mess around when it comes to naked baby pictures. They definitely kicked my picture off last night.

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