Slacker

There is a lovely blogger named Gayla Trail who says that her biggest piece of advice to someone who is struggling with his relationship to gardening is this:  he needs to cut himself some slack.  He should allow for disappointments, and pay close attention to what works and what doesn't.

Girl never met a hairband she liked more in her hair than on her wrist...

Now, listen, I don't do gardening. Have you SEEN my front yard? (We can't even talk about my back yard. No really, we can't. But if I disappear someday it is probably because our "back" neighbors have taken out a hit on me.) We are doing well if we keep the grass cut and the bushes trimmed (ish) Somewhere deep in the DNA of every Southern woman rests an older woman that will eventually wear a funny hat and grow tomatoes...but that person is dormant in me. Very dormant. So dormant that said person might actually be dead. Time will tell.

Anyway, someday I will remember this advice and apply it growing veggies, but for today, I'm applying it to growing my family. When it comes to my children, I am truly terrible at cutting myself...and anyone else...some slack.

This is as close to gardening as we get. Tending the grass now and again. Maybe eating it, depending on your age.

Now this is mostly a good thing. Every family needs that person that is the "engine", the person that pushes everyone else to grow and achieve. But sometimes it sucks to be that person and sometimes it sucks even more to live with that person... or so I presume.

"I just woke up. I just need a minute here, Mom"

 Usually I only figure out that I'm pushing myself and my husband too hard AFTER it's already happened. We don't really fight much, Tim and I. Sure, we disagree and fairly often we will verbally spar in a humorous-but-competitive way. But about twice a year, someone will politely request that the other person stow the lawnmower after using it, and it somehow degenerates into two primates shrieking at arguing with each other and angrily flinging playfully tossing a Boppy at each other while declaring that the fact that SOMEONE shoved the wedding cake into the other's face after a SOLEMN VOW not to do so should have been an indicator that THIS WAS NEVER GOING TO WORK BECAUSE WHO THE H DOES THAT?!?!?! (This happens to everyone right? No? Just us?) You see where I'm going here. Something small inexplicably boils up into something big ...or several something bigs...and it leaves everyone feeling hurt and pissed off and generally ill-done-by.

G feels ill-done-by also; the food is too slow

After some reflection we usually conclude that said argument happened because we're low on sleep and low on patience and low on quality time and just generally... low. And that the wedding cake shove-age/failure to stow lawnmower is not truly a deal breaker and that it's time to get back to the advice that I started with, namely cutting oneself and one's partner some slack. Allow for disappointments and figure out what works. Let things...and people...be imperfect and figure out how to love through flaws and despite flaws and maybe even because of flaws.

I sort of love the way she never really smiles for pictures. It's so Addie to do her own thing instead.

 Now, I know it is not really the " done thing" to blog about things like marital spats or how you are NOT achieving or succeeding. But if I had a motto for my life it would be "Tell the truth, it's the only thing worth taking the time to type." (That would be kind of a weird life motto because I don't actually type all that much. And some of what I type is fiction. So that would not be my motto. But I'm going to leave it because my brain is now too tired to think up a better one, and the blog title already tells you I'm a slacker.) And the truth is, sometimes we argue. Though not very often, thank God. But it is OK. We survive and we get better and stronger, and then we thrive.

Thriving!

After the weekend's Official Semi-Annual Dust-Up, I decided to spend the day just hanging out with the kids. Not rushing to cook, or clean, or meet friends for a playdate, or work out, or do errands, or really do much of anything. I was a slacker. We ate leftovers, I didn't clean my house, or do laundry, or check my email, or do a single errand.  I accomplished nothing. Except for...and this is the all important exception...loving my family.

What's not to love? I ask you!

Frankly, it was fantastic. And somehow doing nothing felt a lot like something I needed to do, at least for today. (Though I'm pretty sure if you followed this kind of regimen on a daily basis you'd soon be featured on a Hoarders episode). The truth is that my life...our life....is so completely and gloriously imperfect, and messy, and a total work-in-progress. But I love it. It suits me. Even when, and maybe especially when, I'm being a slacker.

Introducing Mister and Miss Chievous

Sometimes I have a couple of posts lined up and ready to go, and my problem is finding time to record my thoughts. And other times, like tonight, I sit down and have no idea what I want to say. Invariably the best thing to do in the case of blogger's block is to go back and look at my pictures and (usually) the topic will suggest itself.

Sure enough, as I flipped back through my pictures and videos, all I could think was "Just look at these cheeky little monkeys. So mischievous."

Laughing his signature "wicked laugh".

Caught in the act of stealing candy from the sundae bar!

This is the face she gave me when I told her to save some toppings for the ice cream

 There are a lot of laughs around here, and oh my goodness, do I love it! I'd guess that some of my discipline issues with Addie probably have to do with the fact that my first reaction to a lot of her antics is...you guessed it... to start laughing. But I swear, it's so hard NOT to laugh sometimes. She is so smart and so sassy that it amazes and amuses me to hear and see what she's capable of doing.  I should laugh less, but seriously, who wants to go through life laughing less?

Not the G man! He loves to laugh!

She stripped down in the front yard to run through the sprinkler, which she knows is not allowed! Yes, that vaguely penile thing is our sprinkler. It was supposed to be a palm tree. $8 buys you this kind of quality, folks.

One thing that I'm realizing with Graydon is that babyhood is both a universal and unique experience. The milestones and moments are very similar for each family. But of course each baby brings their own personality to the world and that is what makes each childhood precious and exciting to witness.

G man is already such a personality, with tricks and quirks of his own. This is his newest trick. Whenever he wakes up, he immediately crawls to his crib and pulls down the bumper to see what's going on in the world. This is usually the first thing that I see when I come in to get him...his little face pressed against the bars, with one eye peeping out at me.

Peekaboo!

He is so happy to see his family, especially his big sister who normally climbs right into the crib to cuddle with him.

Here are a few videos of the mischief. In the first video,we are coming in to get Grady after his morning nap. Here are a few things to love:

1) He has somehow managed to remove his diaper while in bed (it is a dark green cloth diaper...you'll see it in a wad at his feet).
2) He is so excited to see us! It warms my heart every single time. THIS is really why I can't let him cry it out at night!

In the second video, here are a few things to ...if not love, at least laugh at:

1) Addie has learned a few new skills. They include unlocking doors and turning on the watering hose.
2) She has me cornered and she knows it.
3) If you can't hear her when she speaks quietly, she says "Spray Mommy" with a speculative gleam in her eye. 

Conversations with Adelaide

Right now, my eldest child is howling like a banshee in her room. Why, you ask? I have no idea. This comes on the heels of my youngest howling like a banshee and of course the instant I get him settled for the night, Addie takes off. And yes, I do have a husband, but he's post call and is thus indisposed (aka sleeping so soundly that a brass band couldn't wake him, never mind a few crying kids).

And the night of "Hell no, we won't go!" bed protests is coming on the heels of a longer week in which we battled a virus that felled each of us like a tree for 48 hours, one right after the other.

All of which is to say that my idea of posting more is predicated upon a healthier and markedly happier household. In the meantime, here is a short collection of Addie conversations. I've been documenting these as the days go by, so it's a perfect post for tonight. Most of the work is already done! 

One day, mad at Graydon for clinging to a toy she wanted: 
Addie: Grady! You are NOT a snow princess ANYMORE. (Obviously the worst insult she could think of...) 

Me: Do you want to read a book together?
Addie: Yes.
Me: OK, how about Each Peach, Pear, Plum? (A long time favorite)
Addie: NOOOOOOOO!!! It's MY TURN TO CHOOSE.
Me: Fine. Choose.
Addie: Ummm...how about this one?( holding out Each Peach Pear Plum)
Me: (sighing) Good choice.

During a torrential downpour
Addie: Mommy, WOOK! The rain is DANCING.

Me: Addie, please don't scratch your booty while you're eating.
Addie: (stares blankly at me)
Me: OK? Do you understand?
Addie: A Pig says "oink oink".
 Me: I'm going to take that as a "yes".

Me: (putting Addie in bed) I sure do love you.Addie: I wubb you, Mommy.
Me: I love you because you are my precious daughter.Why do you love me?
Addie: Because you are a biiiiiiiig huuuuuuuuge Mama.
Me: Um...thanks?

Disclaimer: This one only makes sense if you remember the first scene of Despicable Me. We were looking at Addie's favorite book about the architectural wonders of the world. We came to a full page spread of the Pyramids of Giza.
Me: Ads, do you remember what these are called?
Addie: JUUUUUUSTTTIINNN!
I died laughing.

Title Change

I've been wanting to change the title of my blog for a while. All Things New was always a temporary title, except that it stuck around for a while, while I let the ideas about a more fitting title percolate in my mind. And believe me, I considered a lot of different things.

I considered something sweet about our treasured family life. Simple Gifts. No, sounds like a Hallmark movie. OK, how about a pun on our name? Ewalden Pond. Stupid and pretentious at once, an impressive feat. Where's Ewaldo?  Tempting...but no, none of us look good in stripes. Something to do with my interests? I like riding horses. Bareback Mama. No. No. Ten thousand times no.

Then I literally dreamed of a name. As in, I saw a name on a sign in my dream. Not a billboard or a street sign type of sign, more like a sign you'd hang in a nursery with your baby's name on it. The name was Stardrinker. I loved that for about five seconds until I realized it sounded like an alcoholic's blog. Then I was not living for it, so much.

Moving on.

I might have mentioned that I'm not an outdoorswoman in my last post. That is sort of true and sort of untrue. I don't like camping, it must be said, but I am actually good at fishing and riding horses, and I do like hiking.

This is a good time to tell the story of my first hike, so indulge me while I Spinderella (also a tempting alternate title and a fitting homage to Salt n Peppa...but no) for a second here. I had never been hiking in my life until I met Tim. So we move to Boston to go to graduate school together and he says "We now live in New England. We must go hiking. This weekend." and I got really excited about this prospect. So I borrowed some boots. Huge rookie mistake. (Yes, that was an alternate title for this blog too) and off we went to New Hampshire and Mount Monadnock.

I will never forget how I felt as we left the parking lot and started walking up the trail. I was so excited. The trail was wide and the incline was gentle and the aspect was invitingly tree lined. I couldn't wait to wander up to the top in a leisurely manner whilst having deep philosophical conversations about nature and civilization and everything in between.

You can imagine my surprise then, to find myself grimly grappling my way up a mountain face a mere half hour later. No trees, no wide path...indeed, there was no path at all...and certainly no gentle incline. This was thigh shriekingly shin scrapingly intense hard work, scrabbling up rocky slopes and climbing up to the top of the mountain.

I will also never forget the look on Tim's face or the sound of his laughter when I confessed to what you may have already guessed: I had no idea that hiking was far more similar to climbing than to walking. I honestly believed that hiking was just a brisk walk done on mountain side. I was seriously clueless (another alternate title).

And when we reached the summit, I was speechless. You need air to talk, and I was suckin' some serious wind. But it was amazingly beautiful. We didn't know this before we started, but Mt. Monadnock offers 360 degree views from the summit. You can see land in three states on a clear day. Despite the blisters and the sore muscles and mistaken assumptions, I was hooked.

You see, hiking is all about the journey. The view from the top means more if you worked to get there and took the time to appreciate each stage of the landscape you passed through.

Which FINALLY brings me to the new title. You had to hike through this post to get to my point. Apologies, and I hope you don't have blisters.

I like hiking, but it's hard work. In similar fashion, I love being home with my kids, but I find being a homemaker to be hard work. It's not being a mother that is hard work ...well, most of the time, anyway. It's more the cooking/cleaning/yard/crafty schtick that I suck at find challenging. But I really want to excel at it. All my life I've been ambitious. I've always wanted to be good at whatever I was doing...and I don't see why this should be any different. If I'm going to be home...and I am....then why not study the craft, practice it, and improve myself? The worst that happens is that I"ll learn something about myself, even if it is only that homemakers can only be bred and not trained.

Hence, Hiking Mount Olympus. Because I'm working my way up to domestic goddesshood and trying to savor each step of the journey.  I'm hoping to post more often, and I'm going to post about a broader variety of topics. The posts about my mishaps adventures in cooking and cleaning and crafty type things will be entitled "Domestic Goddesshood".

Grandparents, put the phone down. I promise I am still going to post about Addie and Graydon. I'll call those posts "Where We Are", as you may have already noticed.

And I'm going to post about other randomness, which I'll entitle something clever cheesy like "Musings from the Mount". Other randomness being things like books, music, spirituality, and politics. Yes, politics.

And that's really the reason for my "post titles". Because if you already know you don't like my politics, you can ignore those posts with ease. And if you CHOOSE to read them, then on your head be it. Don't be steppin' to me with your angry "why are you so ...." comments if you bring it on yourself. That's all I'm sayin'.

OK, I even type more Southern when I get fired up. You can take the girl out of the South, but you cannot make her enunciate her words (Another possible title. Too long though). Even when she's typing. Or typin'.

I've debated whether or not this is the best forum for those random topics, but I frankly don't think I'd maintain another blog often enough to justify a separate one. I'm not looking to be the next great political voice of our time, but I might post about current events from time to time.

But in truth, I still expect this blog to be mostly about the family and our journey to wherever we're going. That's what I enjoy blogging about the most. And that brings me to the final title I considered for my blog: Happy and I Know It! (No, too nursery school. Clap your hands!)