We were going to go to Dairy Queen...

I guess all parents use bribery to get their kids to do what they want them to do. This morning is the first day of summer break and Doug agreed to run up to the store to get the boys doughnuts, at their behest. They were fighting and bickering while he was getting ready to leave and I heard him chastise them a couple of times. They continued and I heard him yell out, "Ok! NO DOUGHNUTS THEN! YOU CAN FORGET THE DOUGHNUTS!"

I knew that he was still going to get the doughnuts...

My nephew Erick recently told me that Dwight and Scott used to say, "You know we were going to go to Dairy Queen, but I guess now we won't..." For every kind of thing - fighting in the back seat to cleaning their rooms. As an adult now, Erick realized that they were never planning to go to Dairy Queen, they'd just pull that out to get results. But as a boy, he would think, "Dang It! We could've gone to Dairy Queen!"

Portrait of Doreen Gray

I had a dream Saturday night that I was re-living my youth. Young again! A chance to do it over! And I was young again while cognizant of life lessons learned in my first youth. But I experienced profound sadness when I realized that I was youthful with the young and not reliving my youth with my friends. I hated it - I was so depressed while I was dreaming (a very odd sensation).

I reflected on the dream all day Sunday. I realized that what made the idea of being young again pleasurable was being with my friends and knowing the people I knew then. Just getting youth back without those friends and even experiences (no internet, no social media, no mobile phones) was not palatable.

Fondue

Yesterday was Emery's birthday party and he wanted a fondue party. So we had 5 or 6 boys over and they had chocolate and cheese fondue, watched a little of Alice in Wonderland and played outside.

It was such a joy to watch them run around and jump on the trampoline. I worry so much about Em and his friendships - I get concerned that he struggles to fit in. He's a very sensitive boy and his giftedness is a challenge for friend-making. It sounds like some kind of bragging to put it that way, but I can't ignore his giftedness any more than I can ignore his food allergies or ADHD.

I have long thought that all three of those things are connected somehow - gifted, allergic, ADHD. There are so many kids we meet that have the same three things in common. One of the families we'll carpool with to the gifted program Emery is attending this summer seems so like Em. His mom and I have been talking, mainly to get the carpooling to UW set up, and over the course of several conversations we realize that they are very alike. It reinforces to me that issue with attending to things is connected to his intellect and is the very thing that fuels his giftedness.

Remember the Alamo! Remember Goliad!

Wilbur's artistic San Antonio drawing.

Skinny boy

Emery and I just got hysterical... I helped him put on his tights for his ballet dress rehearsal today and he's so skinny that he looks like he's made of tinker toys. Doug said he looked like a dancing licorice whip.

Expotition (which is a long line of everybody) to the North Pole (which is just a thing that you discover)

Doug has been reading the Complete Tales of Winnie the Pooh to the boys each night. Last night they read about the expotition to the North Pole. I can hear them in there giggling and loving Pooh. It is delicious to hear them. Roo falls into the river and this reminds me of Wilbur eating ice cream:

there is a squeak from Roo, a splash, and a cry from Kanga. Roo has fallen into the river!
Roo is being brave and not panicking, and even asking his Mum to watch him as he is swimming in the stream, although really he is just being carried along by the current.

When we go to get ice cream, Wilbur always wants a dish of it but he really doesn't like ice cream. He says it's too cold. He does, though, insist on a dish. Then he dips his spoon in it and brings the spoon almost to his lips and says, "MMMMMmmmmm. Ice Cream!"

We all think it's so funny because he never takes a taste. It's sort of like the swimming...

http://carlzimmer.com/books/parasiterex/index.html

I got Emery this book yesterday, worried that it was really over his head. I had heard Carl Zimmer on This American Life and he told a fascinating tale of parasites and their status as the most successful organisms on the planet. I thought Em would be interested in this but once I bought the book I wasn't sure I'd made a good choice. It was long and had no pictures and was not a book I felt I could read, let alone my 10-year-old.

I gave him the book after school and he began reading it immediately. He read the first third of it last night. Astonishing.

Die with a T

I am in the third week of a food plan... I'm doing Jenny Craig again. I actually haven't gained any weight since I did the program 10 years ago. When I weighed in I weighed exactly my former goal weight. The problem is that over those years I had lost a little more and this winter I put it back on. I think my body just looks different at this weight today than it did 10 years ago. And I'm unhappy with it.

I've lost about 2.5 lbs which isn't much but I don't have that much to lose. Being back on JC reminds me of how I ate when I first got out of treatment. Strict portion control and small meals followed by light snacks. I don't know why it's so difficult to keep that up except that you sort of have to think about eating all the time and I really hate that. Sometimes I wish that I could just go through the day being fed intravenously and not have to think about it.

I also was drinking alcohol to regularly - a glass of wine here and cocktail there and in the middle of the week as well. Those calories added up quickly. So that was the first thing I did - no more drinking during the week.

I heard an owl!

The other morning I was up very early and I heard an owl hooting...

Alzheimers

I listened to NYC Radiolab's podcast today and it was about how a researcher in language had analyzed Agatha Christie's last 8 books and detected the possibility that she had Alzheimer's. The deduction was based on how much of her vocabulary she lost (20-25%) and how often she used the word thing, including something, nothing, everything, anything -- in other words, she became less specific and it appeared that this could be an early indicator for Alzheimer's.

I had to stop listening to the podcast. The other day I was searching for the word sentimental and could not come up with it. As I listened to this professor talk about how Christie was losing it, losing herself, losing her mind, I thought about analyzing my blogs and emails from the last 5 years... If they could tell a tale, would I want to know?

Decidedly not. What would be the point? I think it would just make me panic. My mother always says that being a mother and working full time and all that is what makes you unable to come up with the word sentimental when you need it. Just in case, I have started working the crossword puzzle again after going years without it. I think I need to keep sharp.

Fun Times

Had such a fun weekend with Jeff and Ken. Now we must get to DC. Jeff convinced the children that he works for the government and he's going to have to do some pretty fancy footwork to entertain them when we visit our nation's capitol.

For dinner on Saturday night we had Leigh and Alex, Gigi and Charles Henry, Scott, Erick and Amber, Jeff, Ken, Paige, Doug... All the hee haw gang. J&K made a WONderful risotto. Fabulous.

This weekend for Mother's Day we are headed to the Staddon-Smiths where we'll get to see Colin and Rosemary, Alex's parents.

Flowers and Spring

I made these containers this weekend. Hard to overstate how much they can lift my spirits each morning.

Baby Birds

I heard what I think were baby birds chirping this morning. I hear the birds every morning now as I walk le dog around the yard, but this morning I heard the distint and plaintive cry of babies in the nest.

I am waiting for my own baby bird to return this afternoon from Camp Orkila. Listening to those babies chirp their I'm Hungry song this morning made me miss mine all the more.

Little Ducks Little Bee

I saw my first baby ducklings today swimming in the stream along the protected wetlands that run between all the office buildings where I work. Mama Duck was out front and those babies kept right with her. If she got the least bit ahead of them the ran their little legs so hard that they came up out of the water as if they were trying to walk atop it. Good lord were they cute.

I am reading a book called Little Bee which is fantastic so far. Finished "The Art of Racing in the Rain" over the weekend. I got teary in my hairstylist's chair on Saturday as I finished it.

It is sunny and 70 degrees here - fabulous weather.

Little boys, little boys

I am struck all too often now by how little time I have left before the boys go off to college and start living on their own. All of Emery's pants are too short and I just bought the newest of them 3 months ago. But each night, sometimes upstairs in Wilbur's room and sometimes downstairs in Emery's room, they crawl in bed together and sleep like angels. I encourage it since Emery is 4 years older than Wilbur and the time will come so soon that they just won't do that anymore.

I walk at home now when Doug isn't there. I just walk back and forth on a stretch of road that takes me just a little beyond our house in either direction. I stay close enough that if Wilbur needs me he can just stand on the front landing and he'll see me. Each week or so I venture a little farther. To see if Emery could watch after his brother for a little while at a time.

Sometimes I am so impatient with them. I get so frustrated and angry that they don't mind what I say or follow directions. I hate myself when I get that way and yell at them. I curse at times. I tell them after that I am wrong to lose my temper that way. I am afraid that's how they'll remember the entirety of their childhoods: mom losing her temper.

I feel it acutely when I think of how fast they are growing. So when I see them in bed, side by side facing each other and one arm slung over the other or a leg crossing the mid-line boundary denoting his side or his side, I think that maybe it will be ok.

This is Wilbur's drawing of one of his faves.

Wilbur slept with me last night. He isn't feeling well. He lays in bed with me and touches my face like a sweetheart in a movie who is just watching the love of his life sleep peacefully. He tells me, "But you know? I'm afraid of the dark." He strokes my arm. He loves how my arm is flappy. This comment coming from anyone else, even my 10-year-old, would incense me somewhat. But when 6-year-old Wilbur says it, it's still just cute. I don't worry about my flappy, old-lady arms, but think of how soft my skin feels to him and how he needs that touch. Skin to skin is how we did it when he was a baby. He needed to be on me, near me. It's so special that he still does.

I don't like sappy and current country songs, but recently someone made a playlist for a baby shower I was hosting. And it included this country song called, "You'll Always Be My Baby". And for some reason, every time I hear it I cry. I was thinking of it last night while Wilbur snored softly next to me; one arm up over his head, just the way I sleep; his cherubic, angelic face at perfect peace... He looked heaven-sent.

In the sunlight or the rain
Brightest nights or darkest days
I'll always feel the same way
Whatever road you may be on know you're never too far gone
My love is there wherever you may be
Just remember that you'll always be my baby

Letter to Tony Kornheiser

Dear Mr. Kornheiser,
I am a professional woman who works full-time (and then some) outside the home, a mother to two lovely boys, the manager of a well-kept home, and a loving wife to a wonderful husband. My salary is commensurate with my husband’s. Having borne two children, I have worked hard to get back to my size-4 shape. I believe I have a noticeable and personal style evident in my home décor and fashion-sense. All of this takes a lot of work. I don’t just wake up looking like this every day. I get my hair cut every 8 weeks and have it colored every few months. I exercise every day. I work hard at how I look every day, whether I'm taking the kids to a tennis lesson or going out to dinner. And even though my husband is very involved in our boys’ daily activities, the management of their needs is my domain.

I arrange all doctors’ appointments for my children. I shop for their clothes and arrange for their haircuts. I advise my husband on his clothes and often shop for him. I do all the grocery shopping and cooking. I prepare a home-cooked meal every night of the week, save one. I pack lunches each day. I take the boys to school and pick them up. I arrange for teacher conferences and oversee the completion of homework. I schedule their extra-curricular activities. I RSVP to all birthday party invitations and buy gifts for those engagements. I tell you all of this because I manage to do all these things while looking fabulous.

I bet Hannah Storm knows what I’m talking about. I bet your wife does, too.

I don’t need some man who is basically required to wear a uniform each day (slacks, shirt, tie?), who doesn’t have too much that needs doing where his hair is concerned, can wear any manner of undergarment without worry over panty-lines or fit or the need for smoothing, never has to buy hosiery, has no pressure to accessorize, doesn’t have to have the right purse for the right outfit, and can mask a belly for 15 pounds before needing to address the issue telling me OR ANY WOMAN that she isn’t dressed well, or age-appropriately.

My husband does a lot for all of us, don’t misunderstand me. He handles all the bookkeeping and the yard maintenance, house maintenance and helps me each morning to get the children up and dressed and fed and ready to go. But, he doesn’t have to ‘do his hair’ or find his Spanx. He doesn’t need to apply makeup. He isn’t expected to keep looking young and he doesn’t fear hearing someone say that he really let himself go after the children came. He is judged by what he does, not what he looks like while he does it.

I hope I’ve enlightened you to the real work that women have in front of them every day. I want my boys and my husband to be proud of me for my style, as well as many other more important things. I want them to see me as daring and courageous in my work, my sense of fashion, and my flair for entertaining. I want to bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan. So, Mister, watch your words about these hero wives, mothers and professionals; you don’t want to piss us off. We run the world even if we don't rule it. Make no mistake about that.

Psalm 91

This past Sunday the choir sang a piece based on the 91st Psalm:

Psalm 91
1 He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. [a]
2 I will say [b] of the LORD, "He is my refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust."
3 Surely he will save you from the fowler's snare
and from the deadly pestilence.
4 He will cover you with his feathers,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
5 You will not fear the terror of night,
nor the arrow that flies by day,
6 nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
nor the plague that destroys at midday.
7 A thousand may fall at your side,
ten thousand at your right hand,
but it will not come near you.
8 You will only observe with your eyes
and see the punishment of the wicked.
9 If you make the Most High your dwelling—
even the LORD, who is my refuge-
10 then no harm will befall you,
no disaster will come near your tent.
11 For he will command his angels concerning you
to guard you in all your ways;
12 they will lift you up in their hands,
so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.
13 You will tread upon the lion and the cobra;
you will trample the great lion and the serpent.
14 "Because he loves me," says the LORD, "I will rescue him;
I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
15 He will call upon me, and I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble,
I will deliver him and honor him.
16 With long life will I satisfy him
and show him my salvation."

I know it's a complicated Psalm because surely we wonder at times if God will rescue us or if we are experience His deliverance.

I chose this Psalm as the text at my Granny's funeral. And while the choir sang, I was overcome with emotion, longing for her. I also took comfort in hearing this promise, which I believe could be fulfilled after death and not necessarily during my life in this realm. Maybe this promise means that I will rest in the shadow of the Almighty when I have shuffled off this mortal coil. That's how I envision it: that as I move from conscious dwelling here in this life to a new realm with my Creator, my Mother, Father God will rescue me. The angels will guard me and I won't fear the terror of the night.

Tithing

Doug and I have been on a journey of giving for the past 6 years. We joined Northshore United Church of Christ when Wilbur was 6 months old. We started to talk together about our financial support of the church and what our intentions were.

My grandparents always tithed 10% of the gross. That seemed almost impossible. Not only did we make more money each year, but our expenses went up as the children got older.

We decided to start slowly at 2% and build up. We didn't even know at the beginning that we were shooting for 10% (net or gross). But slowly, each year, we gave a greater percentage of the gross.

In 2010 we estimate that we will achieve the goal. 10% of the gross. 10 in 10. We are really proud of ourselves.

I don't know if we should be so proud. 10% sounds like very little when you say what you are giving back to God, to your community, or to represent all that you've been blessed with... It sounds like very little when I think about how lucky I am and how neither I nor God did that - just being born in the US, being white, raised in a fairly affluent family, going to good schools, having parents who told me all of my life that I was college-bound: that is all just luck. To think that God had anything to do with that means that people born with the opposite of my fortune are also hand-picked for their fate.

Conversely, 10% sounds like a lot when you start looking at your bottom line.

So, taking that all into consideration, we have a measured sense of pride at our accomplishment.

And, now it seems, we might keep raising the bar. Maybe we'll give 12% or 15% in a few years. It seems that, and I know this can't always be true for everyone, but it seems that the more we have given the more we have received, intangibly but tangibly as well. We really have experienced that often, when we have given money at a time when it was difficult to do so, we have gotten that money back very unexpectedly.

It's been a fruitful enterprise for us. And we continue to experience abundance as we travel this road.

Men Who Loved Women

I've noticed a curious phenomenon:

The Lotharios I've known in the course of my life all have girl children. These men, who have finally given up their wanton pursuit of women and have, in their late 30s or even early 40s (never earlier than that), settled down into a married (or married-like) existence and started having children -- these men, almost without exception, have produced girl children.

I don't mean that all the men I know who have daughters are reformed rapscallions. But the men I know who were the worst of the worst for bed hopping, cheating, collecting bedpost notches and were famous for utterances of, "I'll call you", all, each one, without exception, have girls. And not just girls as well as boys - they don't ever produce boys - only girls. Their seed is all X chromosome sperm. (Isn't that how it works? Women's eggs are always X and men have X and Y sperm? It sounds right).

I think it's so interesting, really. Is there something in their DNA; something that both causes them to behave the way they do as young men while later in life determining that their progeny is exclusively female? If I believed in a god who seeks revenge, I'd think 'that's pretty fitting.' If I believed in reincarnation I'd think that these guys have come back in this go round to work on those issues of love and intimacy (or whatever causes all that skirt chasing). I guess what I really believe is that God has a wonderful sense of humor.

Misty watercolored...

It's not that he cheated...

It's that he lied about it. That's what women in movies always say about infidelity. And the logic seems pretty flawed. But I'm going to employ it and apply it to my feelings for the game last night - the championship game between Alabama and Texas.

I started to believe, somewhere during the second half, that Garrett Gilbert would, if he left his guts and heart on that field forever staining blood-red the grass in Pasadena, be rewarded. The gods would have to show him favor. The universe should work that way.

So, it's not that we lost but the way it happened that broke my heart. Or, it's not JUST that we lost but that we came so close, against incredible odds and crazy circumstances. If we'd played uninspired, with our without our star starting QB or if the defense had been lackluster and out of sync, maybe it would have been merely disappointing. But that kid was hitting it. And Alabama's offense was struggling. So I started to believe.

I know you can't say what might have happened if... If Colt McCoy didn't get hurt... If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.

Mac

Christmas 2009 is the year that Emery got his first laptop. It was the last gift he opened and he said, "I guess what I hoped for is not going to happen..." I handed him the present and said, "this is a special kind of book that Daddy and I think you'd like." Of course it was - it was a Mac Book.

He has been overjoyed - absolutely. We have always worked to limit screen time (tv/comp/wii) and set guidelines for usage (after homework, once other things are done)... But, I have finally come to terms with the fact that this digital world is the world we live in and while I plan activities and opportunities for them to be active and engaged, they love their virtual worlds. Particularly Emery.

He plays games on his computer but he also does a lot of reading and research. He told me a few weeks ago that he gets his news primarily from the Internet. He said, "50 percent from the web, 30 percent from NPR and 20 percent from the newspaper."

So I'm not going to sweat it - this love of all things electronic, this lust for the new gadget and a SIM sort of world. It is what it is, and he'll probably be better prepared for what's coming by being invested in it now.

Making a List and checking it Twice...

On Christmas Eve Wilbur said, "I don't know if I'm on the list of naughty or nice..."

So sweet.