brief candle life

I have been stressed more than usual lately. I developed an eye twitch that finally went away in the serotonin release of having completed a kick ass dinner that I was making a giant batch of for my own family and the family down the street that had a baby recently. We delivered it welcome wagon style, with the food literally wrapped in a blanket next to Raiden in the red flyer wagon and we all went down there and dropped it off.

My involvements include:
1- the kids !!!!!! !!! !!!! you know how many exclamation points a 2 and 5 year old deserve. Raiden is so full of mischief! Spilling, falling, breaking, hitting, poopin, running off

2 - the house. dishes and general putting away of things and daydreaming about cleaning the bathrooms though never actually getting to that

3- Christmas: the shipping to my parents/sis/grandma, the buying for the in laws, kids, and husband, the driving to all the stores and places, finding/researching/remembering the coupons

4- my poetry book coming out. needing to design my website. needing to post a blog. needing to order printed swag from Vista prints (they have free biz cards, posters, etc), needing to call the giant list of book store contacts to set up a book tour in january (only have one scheduled so far), needing to set up a blog tour (a tour of other bloggers where I'm a guest interviewee on their blog)

5- web design work for 5 different websites. some ongoing, some incoming, some long overdue and not started yet

6- keeping up with the Huge Wonder baby tshirt biz; the driving to stores, the inventory, the web orders coming in, shipping them, delivering them, picking up checks and depositing them, printing tags, tagging and organizing a hundred onesies and tees, Tweeting and other social media-ing about the holiday promotions, prepping a selection for neighbor's kid's school's holiday fair booth.

7 - finances, moving money between accounts (biz & personal, making sure there's enough room for purchasing and paying bills

8- groceries, food, feeding the family, and fulfilling the two "new baby" families I signed up for bringing food to (my giving back for the season)

9- working at the preschool, all the parties this week, putting together gifts for my fellow teachers, for the secret santa recipient, and for my class kids, the lesson plans, the lunches for my kids & self, the meeting

are you crying yet? cuz I sure almost am

10- paving a path in my office/guest room so that the table and shipping/wrapping supplies are accessible

11- keeping in active touch with in-laws in regards to mother in laws recent cancer scare, surgery, recovery, and Benign on all counts diagnosis (whew!) This raised an incredible amount of stress in me Thursday and today, when the surgery & results all happened. My mom is a cancer survivor and being thrust in to that world again had a sudden explosive stress effect.

I think that's it. Please tell me I win. Or something. I must now tackle the kitchen because I used every single pot, pan, utensil and dish to make this dinner earlier and now I have to pay for it. But then I get to watch tv. sweet, sweet, tv and maybe more sugar, and then finally sleep. that is, until the 2 year old needs to nurse again.

Fine, all right, I'll do some grats. Because I'm feeling ungrateful about my nursing grizzly bear who takes 1.5 hrs to fall asleep, and because I completed the epic journey from my house in TX to my parents' house in WI today and just need to focus on the good, little things, instead of all the things that made today hard.

1. watching my 20 month old take off running when we finally got out of the car, into the still wet from rain, still lightly drizzling early evening light of the acreage of my parents' luscious back yard.

2. this honey vodka from my parents' liquor cabinet tastes divine

3. my 4 yr old fell asleep before her brother

4. 20 month old was pleased as punch to pee like a big boy in the gas station potty (well as much a big boy as you can be when mommy is holding you business-side tilted over the toilet) It was like pouring water from a watering can!

5. the little joys of cheap wrapped presents doled out to children over the course of a long flight and equally long car ride

6. leaving a love note for dh (who is not on vacation with us) on top of the coffee machine where he'll find it tonight

7. getting 3 weeks to relax and explore

Vendredi, le 10 Octobre, 1997
C’est l’apres midi. Il fasait mal ce matin. Maintenent il fait du soleil, mais je suis dans l’ombre. Je reste dans la meme café, je pense, laquelle Hemingway a frequente il y a pleusieurs ans; Café des Amateurs. Je viens voir un musicien dans la rue Mouffetard jouer du guitarre. Il etait merveilleux, calme, et melodique, ca m’a rappelee Nick Drake. Il est americain, mais je n’ai pas parle a lui – je n’ai que lui donne deux francs. Alors, je m’inquiete parce qu’il me manque six francs payer ce café pour le the. J’espere que le serveur ne deviendra pas tres fache avec moi.

Je ne parle pas assez de francais ici, en France, a Paris. je suis stupide. Je veux arreter sortir avec les americains, sauf de temps en temps. Vraiment, je suis ici pour ne pas etre americanine, et ce que j’ai fait du moment d’arriver etait exactement ca. je veux bien parler et sortir avec Marisa – elle est vachement interessante, mais elle n’est jamais chez elle. J’ai laisse un message avec la proprietrice de son foyer, donc je souhaite qu’elle arrivera me rappeler.

J’ai recu un deuxieme letter de Dave. Il me donne toujours l’inspiration… pour etre vivante and pour ne pas suiver la foule. C’est interessante, la semantique: folle/ foule / folie. Etre avec beaucoup de gens, ce’st la folie. J’arrive a aimer la langue francaise, meme si je ne le parle pas beaucoup. Je veux rencontrer des personnes qui volent dans l’immaginaire pour que la mienne devient renouvelee.

La vie post-scolaire, je la goute maintenant. Les etudes n’ont pas encore commence. Mais la difference maintenant est que tout est deja paye et je n’ai pas besoin de gagner l’argent pour cette annee. C’est une reve. C’est parfait. C’est la liberte d’etre. Malheureusement ce n’est point la realite.

L’ecriture c’est un art, on doit travailler pour le faire. Est-ce qu’il n’y a rien qui soit pure? Si on est genius, c’est tout naturel, mais si on ne l’est pas on doit travailler pour le rendre parfait, n’est-ce pas? Mais pour moi de temps en temps (je parle de l’anglais bien sur) l’ecriture est le plus pure expression de mon ame, il me semble que c’est parfait pour expliquer quelquechose specifiquement, sans avoir travallier, sans avoir besoin de corriger, parfait comme il est dans le moment. Des pensees pures.

J’ai remarque que je devienne impatiente plus vitement qu’avant. je ne peux pas supporter rester dans un endroit pour longtemps. je pense que ca c’est le signe que c’est l’heure de partir maintenant.

L’esprit de quelqu’un qui vient de s’asseoir derriere de moi est entre dans le monde autour de moi. Ca toujours arrive a moi. Aussi il y a quelqu’un quie me semble fou devant de moi, devant la fontaine au milieu de la place. Au pieds-nues, il parle rapidement a soi-meme en mangeant une pomme. Un homme en jupe me passe et je lui donne un petit esprit-mot, “je te supporte,” avec un sourire ephemeral.

Il ne reste que de l’eau sucre, citron, et l’histoire que je dois raconter en ce qui concerne mon manque de l’argent. Merde. je l’offrirai de faire la vaisselle.

Pourquoi j’air peur des gens? Toujours, toujours, encore.

1. Deodorant.
Having a baby and nursing causes lots of new hormones to circulate, which leads your body to emit odors differently. Whereas before my pits were quite satisfied with the Crystal Stick, Tom's, or other natural slather, having a baby caused me to immediately smell like a goat. A very dirty, sleep deprived goat. So despite my suspicion that zinc aluminum plutonium based major brand deodorants are the cause of breast cancer, I absolutely have to have one of those on the occasion when I want to smell fresh. Even now, 18 months into this nursing thing, and especially in Austin's 100 degree summers, I need the heavy duty protection. So I revert to my old high school standard, Secret. I'm a sucker for their scents. The past few months I've been into Vanilla Chai, so I can smell drinkable. Now I've switched to something coconutty to remind me of summer sun.

2. Diapers.
I cloth diaper. This set of fuzzi bunz has lasted 2 children! They are amazingly long lasting, considering they've been washed about every other day on hot for 3-4 years now. However, it takes an incredible amount of stuffing to make one of those suitable for night. With my 24/7 milk cafe this means one diaper needs to last through the night. I finally conceded to the use of one disposable diaper a day for nighttime use. It's nice to have them as backup in case I run out during a wash cycle, too.

3. Shredded Cheese & String Cheese
Two favorite kids snacks. Dh is a big fan of string cheese. I need to use the shredded cheddar for my potato leek quiche that I'll be baking sometime soon.

4. Toothpaste
Just the adult one this time. We got these suction cup things to hold our toothpastes away from little reaching hands, since there's enough industrial byproduct waste (aka fluoride) in there to kill a child. It's true! Read the fine print! We have a low fluoride version for the 4.5 yo who knows how to spit, and the training fluoride-free one for the 18 month old who likes to spit equally as much as getting the cap off of his and downright sucking on it.

5. Sparkly stickers and pepperidge farm goldfish
Cuz you can't get through a store like Target without the kids getting a "present". The ingenious (for Target) dollar section at the front of the store ensures instant good behavior bribery for the whole trip. Whining? We'll take that toy away! Coveting? Ah, but you already got a present! Bored? Play with your new present! and etc...

and
6. Soap
Dh has been whingeing about the lack of normal soap in the house so much that the 4.5 yo started emulating him; this soap is too goopy mama. I must admit, the heat and constant kid use has rendered my usually yummy natural handmade soaps into squishy goo lumps. Some with exfoliating coffee grounds, oats, or patchouli, all of which are unacceptable to dh. The local grocery store sells no such thing as scent-free regular white soap and so I hadn't expanded my search yet. Target delivered with a jumbo pack of Dial White. My man does not want to smell spring fresh or jocky or sporty or brawny, mountainy, or irish. "White" it is.

For all the hard shit we go through raising these monkeys.

For the lack of sleep, the bodily fluids and the laundry.

For the whole heart walking outside your body thing.

For the way your consciousness has to split into parts equaling your # of kids

For giving up Alpha Dog status in your own life

For all the sunshine their little smiles bring

And for truly understanding unconditional love

Happy Mother's Day

This all came out in a local mothering board when I responded to another mama of a screamer-boy, so I thought I'd post it here. Ironic v. the last post. My boy is 17 months and the screaming is really pushing me over the edge. I'm kind of hoping that 3 or 4 will be the age where some rationale starts creeping in to control the screaming. My first was such an angel and he is just the polar opposite in every way, so high strung. I know physically what would get him to stop, and that would be the equivalent of him becoming my conjoined twin. It is such a struggle to do precisely the things that should take a minute or two; making coffee, getting dressed, leaning forward from the couch to pick something up; these are the things that make him go apeshit like I'm hurting him. "What? Mommy needs to perform a simple action independently? There'll be none of that!" I mean, sometimes moving in slow motion and talking to him about what I'm going to do and maintaining eye contact helps, but mostly if he even just feels the currents shift; my body starting to move away or if the word "go" or "I just need" is in what I'm saying to him, it's enough to elicit the dreaded ear piercing shrieking. It's some kind of insanely hopped up separation anxiety. The quicker the needed task, the more indignant his reaction.

I'm so proud of my son. He's outside, barefoot, wandering around in the great world of our back yard. Every few minutes I hear a jubilant exclamation, "Whoah! Ahhhhhh!" or sometimes "Ball!" He stoops down, his diapered butt sticking out, to extract a blade of grass stuck between his little toes. He toddles over to the hedges and methodically tears every leaf off a branch. Then he climbs into the toy car, closing the door behind him, and Flintstones it backwards over the basketball court. And sensing that I'm straying from my web design work to blog about him, he makes a beeline to me, demanding "muuhh", whereupon it takes me 10 minutes to type this last sentence because he keeps rabbit-kicking my typing arm away as he nurses and stops to babble earnest fake words at me.  

I mean my post is brief. I feel only capable of a short list. Still haven't had time to go see how our inventory did in the new Parts & Labour store location during SXSW. Got a cryptic message that not all merchandise was able to be put out in their time crunch of trying to open in time for the tourists. Hope that means the time I spent getting the Metallikid & AC/DC onesies checked out of Waterloo Records and then shlepping them over to P&L and then scraping the goddam stickers off of them bit by tiny bit while the baby had a fit in the carseat and I cried... You get the picture. Some Metallikid better have sold and been displayed, is all I'm saying.

the glue of comfortable life

I suck at being a fully engaged, interesting, inspiring parent.

I suck at making money.

I suck at managing money.

I suck at making decisions.

I suck at doing the dishes every night.

I suck at keeping my house clean, especially the bathrooms.

I suck at keeping my things organized.

I suck at impulse control.

I suck at getting important long-term projects done.

I suck at working.

I suck at keeping up with the laundry.

I suck at feeding the cats.

I suck at exercising.

I suck at being a creative person.

Yesterday was friend day! My best friend from MD called in the morning and we chatted for a long while, while I nursed my coffee and the baby, and she scrubbed her bathtub. Then at night, I went out after putting the baby to bed and stayed out really late talking at my other friend's house who I haven't seen in forever. When I got home at 3am, the baby was of course still totally asleep. (Why can't he do that when mommy wants to go to bed early?) But I got my sweet husbandyrooniedoo to feed him the hard-earned bottle of pumped milk I had left prepared so that I could at least fall asleep on my own. The little piglet was brought into bed at some unspecified short time later when he wouldn't fall asleep after said bottle, but at least I got to pretend to go to bed.

"I'm no stranger to international travel. I emigrated to the States when I was 7 from Poland." These might be the intro words to that novel I want to write some day. 

I'll be brief with these last few:

Every morning is the same, pretty much. Somewhere between 6 and 7 am, Baby starts his morning nursing marathon that seems to go on for hours. At some point, Toddler wakes up and stands at the edge of the bed, stage whispering, "Can I go play, mommy?" I manage to wave my acquiescence or even grunt back an OK without waking Baby fully and she high tails it out of the room, courteously shutting our bedroom door behind her. She sets up camp in front of the TV, having learned how to navigate our Master Remote 3000 to get to Noggin or Sprout.

Non stop sugar. Sugar in my coffee, boxes of chocolates, baked a giant heart cookie plus a dozen for dh, decorated with sugar gel and candy hearts, have a dozen Krispy Kremes, a box of candy sent from a friend, and a triple cookie mix from Costco. 

Now that there are 17 minutes left of Friday the 13th, I have only just noticed what it was. Stayed home today, just letting the kids run around the backyard til the littlest one needed his nap. A Year Abroad: The Swiss Diary of Christy by Christine M. A Kraemer (Paperback - Dec 31, 2002)

Every day, coffee makes me very happy. I'm drinking Austin's special Ruta Maya organic coffee. Ever since last June, when I went dairy/sugar/gluten-free for a month, I have been drinking my coffee black. I did bring the sugar back. Now it reminds me of dark chocolate; dark sweet warm morning drink which makes my brain very happy. 

The whole family is going to Little Lounge Lizards today, it's a dance party at a real nightclub, but during the day and for the under-10 and parents set. With a real dj and good music. At least I hope we don't have to dance to some crappy folk kids music. 

I'm dogged by the constant feeling that I'm forgetting something. I have more on my plate than the average person, though I know we're all super busy. It's 8am and a very dry morning. The baby has nursed me so dry it's like all my cells had to contribute to the milk to make sure there was some. I need a drink of water, but here on the couch, where Baby and Toddler are watching their "mommy needs time to wake up" show, is where I have to be stuck unless I want to hear Baby's shriek of separation anxiety lest I move a muscle.

I'm dogged by the constant feeling that I'm forgetting something. 

I want to start blogging for real about all aspects of my life. Don't know if this is feasible, because life might actually get in the way? But I have so much going on, I think it would be useful to not fragment myself all over the internet. It would be nice to talk about working from home, the kids, music, and all my interests all in one place.