i haven't finished it yet, but i would like to heartily endorse "into the woods" by bill bryson.
i may be heavily undereducated in the earth sciences...considering my high school education, where evolution was treated as a bizarre myth, and year after year undergirded a literal 7 day creation and the methods for arguing for it as a fact, my science education is, without doubt, shorthanded, at the very least.
I liked my HS science teacher. He made what i did learn interesting... or maybe I just found assisting the rest of the class in getting him off topic amusing.
Nevertheless, Bill Bryson is re-educating me, 7th-8th grade level, on the formation of forests and mountains, etc., particularly those of the Applachain variety. I have learned much about the ecology of forests and the how failures of people who, though perhaps interested in flora and fauna, have caused much trauma and loss to American forests, by mismanagement and malingering. I have gained a greater respect for the dangers and challenges that must be faced if one is determined to absorb the prescence of woodlands by walking long distances within it. Yet i am still enchanted by the idea of facing them myself one day. His book is heartily engaging. I throughly enjoy hearing about his experiences as he attempted to traverse much of the Appalachain Trail. Through his account, I have also observed the value of certain and different-types of relationships: spouse, friendships: old and new, and acquantaince.
This book hasn't, persay, "changed my life", but it is timely and a fits well with my other reading, in mood and style.
I am also presently reading: "Foreskin's Lament" by Shalom Auslander, and "The War of Art" by Steven Pressfield, both engaging and perspective shifting.
"Foreskin's Lament" has been: laugh out loud funny, slightly sad and disturbing, and a well full of empathy. Who knew that growing up in fundamental Christianity and orthodox Jewish religions could produce such similar psychological mangling?
"The War of Art" has been: insightful and challenging. I don't know if I'm a true artist, though I know that producing a craft or accomplishing a similar task is quite rewarding for me. He talks alot about overcoming Resistance. I really like this definition, for whatever-it-is that keeps us from doing the things that are worthwhile and productive. I've often fallen prey to Resistance's wiles, and that feeds Depression in me. He indentifies many ways that Resistance tries to beguile us and this helps me to see how to combat it. I am committing myself to Professional battle against Resistance. I know I'll probably lose a few, but with practice I'll win more and more.
Wednesday we were treated to Spring Preview weather. It was delightful. Better than IceCream!
Kari came over in mid-morning and we walked with the girls to Library Storytime. Afterwards, we sat on a swinging bench and ate the snack I brought. At home I made lunch, something like this: Ham and Cheese Crescent Rollups.
After lunch I made Black Bean Brownies, which is fascinatingly simple:
Puree a can of black beans, including the liquid they come in, or draining and rinsing them and adding the beans back to the can and filling with water.
Add the purreed beans to a box of brownie mix and blend as usual. *Do NOT add eggs, water, or oil*
Bake as usual (pr the instructions on box)
Allow to cool.
Eat! =DElish.
Heart this recipe from a co-worker, and tried her brownies, a couple of months ago. I have been eagerly anticipating doing it myself since. Was very pleased to have finally done it.
While the brownies cooled, I took the girls, baby Emma included- wrapped cosily in her fuzzy purple blanket, out to the backyard. I had them peel off their socks and put on light jackets before we headed out- ironic, right? i soon realized they could probably do with out jackets, as they were wearing longsleeves, and they quickly shed the extra layer when given permission. We spent the next 20-30min playing in the sand box. Kari returned from running some errands, with sweet teas for herself and me, and a Sprite that she split btw the girls. They jumped on the trampoline and swang from the plastic toddler seat that hangs from the grape arbor. Yosie is really too big for it and nearly got stuck before I figured out a way to wrangle her out.
Yesterday afternoon a hearty storm brewed and boiled to the point that tornado warnings sent us to the basement. David works in a basement, so his co-workers and a couple customers from upstairs joined him and a few of his cohorts in their lair.
I found myself in the basement at work with approx 150 co-workers and patients. Everyone seemed jittery, but generally non-plussed by the whole procedure. A few people stayed upstairs in a central room to monitor the weather. One was a patient who had been waiting to see the physician I work for. One of my co-workers was in that group also and told me later that, after they'd been waiting for around 10 min and learned that the warning would be active for possibly another hour, he got all steamed up and huffed out, saying he was not going to sit around and wait. ah, genius...
of course, no one could force him to stay... so: sayonara! good luck. hope you don't get sucked up in a tornado.
yosie was safe and sound in my sister's MIL's basement. she got to hold baby Emma TWO times, she told me later, when i met her at the Dairy Barn, where K&D dropped her off to me. she ate a hot dog and we shared a huge oreo wizard. friday nite dinner when David works late have been SUPER nutritious the last few weeks. ;}
this evening yosie and i youtubed gymnastic and diving videos. she did great at swim lessons again this morning, but she is eager to try out gymnastics, since she overheard a mom mentioning it to her daughter a few weeks ago @ the Y.
yosie can do a front roll and has done a few amusing attempts at cartwheels, but i'm afraid she has no idea what she's getting herself into. she's something of a natural in the water, and though i'm proud of her, she's not exactly a prodigy. i'm kind of anxious that we're going to show up in her first gymnastics class and find a bunch of this:
cause, let's face it. gymnastics is right next door, nay, BFFs with Cheerleading, my Number One most dreaded extracircilular activity that my child might want to participate in.
-and here is where my shitty internet connection screwed me and i'm retyping 3 paragraphs that were "written better" but now will come out clipped-
nonetheless, she can learn some great balance skills and develop muscularly in ways that may benefit her in other athletic pursuits by learning some gymnastics.
i loved gymnastics as a kid (not that it prevented me from beign clutzy), and swimming, and riding my bike, and jumping rope. there is this wonderful feeling of freedom from the physical fitness you can attain in childhood. there is a thrill from discovering a new thing your body can do. i saw her "get" that today in swim class, and i'm anticipating seeing her be able to grasp that as she learns some new skills in gymnastics. she loves movement and experimenting with it, so i'm fairly sure she's going to give it a hearty effort.
i had some witty stuffs to say about how i'm wanting to max up my hair braiding skilz, but the damn internet went and ate it all up. after yosie went to bed i was watching some youtube gals show how to do some olympic grade braiding techniques and was inspired.
here are a couple-few that caught my eye:
I've been able to french braid since I was a tween, and figured out how to french braid my own hair in my late teens, but the dutch braid has always tripped me up. This evening, after a bit of swearing and fuming and lots of squinting and scowling, i finally gave myself a little dutch braid.
the waterfall braid-- not so successful. i get the concept, but for some reason my hair would not execute the look and my face was getting red hot, so i gave up for the time being.
i am looking forward to trying out these wet braids come summer . my hair is easiest to braid when it's wet and dried braided hair looks kinky and funky fun when you take it down.
what is today? i've asked myself that many times today. what i mean, initially, is: what day of the week is it? answer: tuesday.
but it is a loaded question. what day is it? david reminded me last night, but i forgot until this evening, as i tucked away her papers from the day: today is yosie's Half Birthday. she's halfway to Five. *gulp* five?! *shaking head, befuddled* impossible.
i remember david getting out of bed this morning. he bumped something accidentally in the closet and it crashed, loudly. i winced, wondering if it would wake yosie. but i kept my eyes shut, determined to sleep until proven otherwise. he kissed my head, and i heard him creep out and down the stairs.
i fell back asleep, or something like it. with my eyes shut, i slowly became alert. it seemed like morning, and it was so quiet... i raised thankfulness that yosie was sleeping in a bit. i savored the moments of waking by my own will, without being pushed or prodded or climbed upon. i smiled slightly thinking of her face, the way it looks sleeping, and wondered what she was dreaming. i imagined she would wake soon, with that sixth sense she has for when my brain is on, and be over to cuddle briefly and then pester me to get out of bed. i got more awake and again noticed the quiet... not that i can hear usually hear her breathing across the hall. i checked the clock. 7:43a. at least i got to sleep in. i was alert now and there was no chance i would fall back asleep.
i got up and tried to quietly open the door. it moaned and i winced a little. i didn't want to wake her. i wanted to watch her sleep a minute and then head downstairs for a moment alone. a glimpse in her room revealed an empty bed. i did a double-take. THEN, i really felt suspicious about The Quiet. i'm no stranger to the old adage that a house that is home to Quiet and a toddler/pre-schooler means only one of 2 things: sleep or T.R.O.U.B.L.E. this old wisdom has been proven correct over and over again.
i plodded downstairs, curious, but dreading, what scene may appear before me. no scene in the playroom. no scene in the bathroom, living room or dining room. i hesitated, decided which room to check next- study (the temptation is great, since i just moved my craft things there) or kitchen. a few more steps and a glance in, advised my steps....
there she was in the kitchen. precious in her green flannel tinkerbell nightgown, on a her knees on a stool at the table. a bowl was in front of her and the cereal box (of the most sugary cereal on the shelf) upright and open on the table. she'd poured herself a bowl, with no evidence of spills and acquired milk from a sippy cup in the fridge. she was taking a the first nibble by picking up the barely damp cereal between her fingers. I smiled and said "good morning, yosie. aren't you resourceful!" and i was pleasantly surprised, relieved, and proud all at the same time.
i got more milk for her cereal and poured myself a bowl, and we sat and munched and talked. i don't remember what about. i imagine she asked how old i am, again. and i said, what do you think? i seem to ask that alot lately, because she's gotten into the habit of asking redundant questions- one's she fully knows the answer to. to which she responds by divulging the known facts and some randomish declaration. i think she sometimes does it just to make conversation or distract me from my thoughts.
she decided to make cereal bracelets for the friends she was to stay with later. first she dressed and hopped excitedly around the room while i chose my outfit. i prepped the yarn for the braclets and started Scooby Doo, then hopped in the shower. I was dressed and ready by the time the episode was finished. I helped her finish up the bracelets and get her shoes tied. She found a baggie for the bracelets and was proudly responsible for seeing them out the door.
i dropped her off at Jodi's, where she was greeted warmly and merrily by Owen and Ellie, and beguiled by promise to go to storytime.
i took out the Magic Tree House CD and put in High Violet by the National. i enjoyed the 45 min drive to the doctor's office, singing along occasionally, in a drizzle that tapered off by the time i arrived. that guy's voice--mmm. that band just speakuz my language.
i found the office easily with some quick directions from the reception desk. i checked in without any hiccups. on the drive down i realized i'd forgotten to find my credit card before leaving, and had a bit of anxiety over it, but decided not to fret, since at least i had my checkbook. i admired their urine sample containers- a simple mini opaque plastic cup, like we used for the kids' drinks in nursery at church. i thought perhaps i would suggest them to my supervisors at work, since they are looking for ways to cut costs. "ANYthing!" they said.
when i took my coat off i realized that the combination of nerves, coffee and wearing my coat the car had produced fabulous prespiration stains on my shirt, and i remembered with mild dismay that in my haste, i'd forgotten to apply deoderant (i don't used antiprespirant anymore- tho that's not new. i haven't for over a year now). thankfully, being freshly showered, odor did not seem to be an issue. along with the fact that i skipped shaving my legs, again, wore my favorite strand of ugandan handmade paperbeads, along with my nearly entirely thrifted outfit (except my socks, ski-coat and purse) i was feeling properly "hippie-ish". in the waiting room, i chose the wingbacked chair, and i pulled out A Walk in the Woods by Bill Bryson, with it's porportionately green cover, and began reading. i felt: myself. this is a good feeling.
on the way back to my town, i took the long way around, and stopped by my sister's, to hold emma and rant with her about her job and her evil boss (who also happens to be david's evil boss). i was totally Miss Piggy, in Muppet's Christmas Carol, when she's cursing Mr. Scrooge (pre-conversion to kindness)... i tried to find a clip on youtube. no luck.
mother universe totally pulled a bit of karma on me when david arrived home this evening and announced he'd received a bonus for the year. hmph. now, if only boss-guy could be visited by the ghosts of christmas past, present and future. a little extra $ doesn't change the fact that he's a jerk-face, and more...
yosie's tickled-happy face greeted me at the door, when i arrived to pick her up. i stayed a bit and read a Scooby Doo and the Vampires book to her and Owen.
at home i ate lunch and she a snack. and we mixed up a batch of green lime jello.
she snuggled up on the double-wide chair with her puppy and bunny and a cozy throw and watched a couple more Scooby Doo episodes while i gave the bathroom and kitchen much needed wipe-downs and then propped my feet up and spent 20mins getting the computer back up and running properly *sigh*.
later we worked on paperdolls. and she colored and painted, while i looked up cardboard dollhouse ideas.
i started dinner and had it in the oven before david arrived home- a rare accomplishment. yosie helped some, but had a little trouble keeping the rules, so she was redirected to play outside the kitchen...
we enjoyed dinner and gobbling up the jello afterward.
david got out the knex, and we all sat down to it. yosie and i started making butterflies based on a design in one of the idea books, and david left us on our own after he deconstructed his creations from sunday. we worked well together. yosie followed instructions exceptionally cheerfully and attentively. she was so involved she got hot and asked to take of her shirt. making knex butterflies is hard work. i was pleased that she stuck with it all the way to the end, with minimal help. we had fun playing with them afterward: they "talked" to each other, and kept changing their names. her butterfly kept asking mine's name and Surprisingly always had the identical name. they are Twin Butterflies afterall!
at bedtime it was david's turn to do tuck in, but she wanted me to. that's how i know she had a good day. i politely refused, but promised her we'd have the day together tomorrow. she came down after she'd put on her jammies and asked for an extra hug and kisses on the hand to take to bed with her. i gladly obliged. she called down after she was tucked in to check which hand they were on.
a hug from david started off a good quiet evening, doing our own thing, but with each other in spirit.
tomorrow is Ash Wednesday. my somewhat half-hearted goal for Lent is to read a short portion of the Bible everyday. David is going to try to also. I'm guessing he'll be successful...
My “crowning acheivement” for that day-- “surgery” on Y’s Dora doll. She arrived, on Yosie's second Christmas @home, with her hands firmly clasped around a bouquet of felt and satinroses, her arms tacked to her chest. Dora is pillowy and large and recently Yosie discovered that she would fit into clothes that Y herself has outgrown. Yosie had a particular dress picked out, but since her arms were tacked down the fit was ...difficult. I promised and promised to do this little task over the couple of days prior and well, I kind of... stumbled to it.
On our walk to the library for storytime, earlier in the AM, we discovered a large stick on the library sidewalk shaped just like a Y. Yosie thought it was novel and I suggested we keep it and hang it in her room. I suggested we might decorate it later in the day.
I must say, she was patient... “later in the day” finally came AFTER: Daddy came home early, lunch time, a thorough (and much needed) cleaning of the upstairs, with Y’s help (tho temporary, it was gratifying), and a little down-time for me to recover from the busy-ness of all of the above.
Even I was excited about the stick. I planned to wrap it in a variety of colors of embroidery floss. I think I saw s/t like that on Pinterest or Etsy and it looked simple enough for a 4 year old to help. I started at the base of the stick letter and showed Y the technique. I let her try to take over the section I started but since I am right-handed and she is a leftie, the direction that I was going made it difficult for her. So, I started her with a color of floss of her choice on the opposite end, with caution to be gentle, as the stick was somewhat flexible but more brittle than green. After about 5 min of work, I finished my section, and she was making progress with hers, but growing rapidly impatient and irritated. I decided to leave the stick to her, so that I would not be accidently tugging on the other end and interrupting her efforts in any way. I messed with the floss to keep myself available. The string got caught up several times and I helped her correct after her attempts were causing her to start harumphing and groaning and complaining. I wanted her to be able to solve it herself, but after several hangups, her frustration level had mounted so that her string was getting caught up more frequently.
It was difficult to watch her struggle, and I wondered if she felt I was hovering. I hate it when people hover over me, especially when I’m trying to figure something out. I got up and headed to the kitchen. Just as I crossed the threshhold, I heard a little sound that made me flinch- the snap of a twig. I quickly returned and asked what happened, though I knew immediately and vision confirmed my suspicion. The branch had split into 3 pcs at the joint. It was unsalvagable. She dissolved into tears of disappointment and grief and frustration. I held her a few minutes while she cried. I was sad myself. I thought about offering to go find another stick, but didn’t feel up to it. Instead, I distracted her with the “Dora Project”.
Undoing Dora hands was simple with the seam ripper, but her arms were sewn into the body of the torso. I snipped the fabric as close as possible to the seam, Y hovering nearby, caring for another doll. While I sewed the fabric of her arms together, she hung over my elbow so closely that I had to tell her several times to back away, as I was not certain that my emerging needle wouldn’t poke her in the eye!
Yosie asked several times why I had to do this and that, as I stitched. She asked about the dress she’d chosen for Dora--one made by her Mana (David’s mom)--and how it had been sewn. She claimed to have sewing skills. She told me how she’d pretended to give one of her friends @ daycare a shot. We talked how we should not be poking people with things, unless we have special permission-- as in, healthcare provider. Nurses give shots (she's had a few) and phlebtomists take blood-- she remembered our visit to the Children’s Hospital at the end of December for a blood draw to contribute to a study of children adopted from her country of birth. We talked about needles and how they are sharp. She declared she would be a phlebotimist when she grew up.
Did alot of cleaning. Vacuumed, wiped down, and mopped the upstairs. Much needed. Hadn’t been done in … months. *shame face*
Vacuumed the downstairs and David did the dishes last minute before we went out for a quick errand run: I dropped D and Y off @ the park while I grabbed some stuff @ Staples and the grocery.
I worked. Nothing special that I can remember @ the moment...
Oh, wait, yeah ~ that was the day I started really feeling like crap. My sinuses were so congested, I was desperate for something, anything for relief. I finally asked for a recommendation from the doctor I work for. We had some samples of a couple types of nasal sprays, which he did not promise would give me immediate relief. I grasped @ hope and pumped my nostrils full. It was a little more tolerable by the time I got off work.
At lunch I went home and ate a bowl of cream of chicken soup and SIX slices of toast. READ: The Complete Stories, Flannery O’Connor
After work, I changed into my yoga workout clothes before I left thinking I would head directly to the studio, but I called home and changed my mind. I was early enough to meet Savana @ my house, where she would be dropping off her boys. David agreed to watch the boys since her in-laws were sick. Yosie was so excited about their impending visit she was literally bouncing everywhere when I got home.
Yoga was difficult because it’s hard to breathe deep when one side of your nose is stopped up with congestion. The 3 legged down-dog took me down, into child’s pose. I soldiered through tho. I wasn’t cured. Afterwards my belly started to hurt like I was being jabbed with a dozen little knives.
When I walked in the door @ home and asked how things had been David took me off-gaurd by immediately intoning “poorly”. Yosie was upstairs howling b/c she’d chosen the low road: hitting one of the boys and then flat out refusing to apologize.
Bedtime was quite a chore, and though I rocked her as usual there was no humming lullabies d/t stuffy nose and it didn’t last long d/t the intensifying belly pain.
After I came back downstairs, I ended up eating chips and salsa and somehow that was helpful.
Day 5:
Worked: Slow morning since doc was out. Caught up on miscellaneous paperwork and answered plenty of phone calls. Drank Vanilla Spice tea, second morning in a row, instead of coffee. Savored. Nose felt 25% better.
Free lunch thanks to drug reps: sandwiches, wraps, salads, chips, cookies. Grabbed a plate to go. Made the transfer between banks to pay the mortgage. Parked underneath the pine trees behind the several years vacant grocery, and finished what was left of lunch and responded to a text from a friend.
Busy afternoon (doc was in), but finished work surprisingly early. Providential, since D had to work late and I needed to be able to pick up Y by 5:30p. Y was the last kid there and she was getting her coat on but distracted by SpongeBob when I walked in. Mary was caring for her newborn grandson (the girl that turned out to be a boy) and I was freshly awed at the immaculate smallness of people so new.
When we arrived home, Y began took a purple glass rock from her coat pocket and called my attention to it’s prettiness. I soon realized her pockets were full of more of similar specimens. I asked if she’d been given permission to bring them home with her. She immediately admitted and excused her guilt because “they’re so pretty!”. I instructed her to get her shoes and coat back on, and maintained a cool temper through the ensuing outburst of defiance, reluctance and rage that lasted nearly all the way back to Mary’s. I grimly returned her to the door where she knocked and coerced inside. She clung to me, but followed through. Mary was very gracious. I hope we're done with that for awhile...
By bedtime I was exhausted.
I took some sinus cold med, drank part of a beer and fell asleep while watching "Cave of Forgotten Dreams" with David
Day 6: Today @ some point, I learned that I am an amateur, at writing, because I love it, as a novelty, but I have no intent to commit my life to it. I need it though. I learned this from our present bathroom literature, the War of Art, which is some deep thinking shit (oh, how i love a pun...). I read no more than 4 pages at a time, which is good, cause I need some time to digest the facts about how I’m being foiled by Resistance. True, so true.
I gave Dr. Osterbur a hug good-bye @ our office party this evening. And Dr. Bowlin and his wife. So, there’s 3 to start the list of hugging 30 people I’ve never hugged before. To be fair, the hugs were rather formal, nothing like those super-squeezes the Richards kids give whenever they greet someone they even remotely like, still, formal hugs count. hmm. Who will be my next target?
Yosie asked me again about breasts while I was getting dressed for the party: Why do women have them? Will she have them? Why doesn't everyone (ie: men) have "fat boobies"? (I advised her to call them "breasts") Do Teenagers have them? sheesh. She was on a roll. I kept my answers basic and simple. She seemed satisfied, for the time being. I was quite amused, but kept my laughter in.
Yosie pushed me to the point of tears earlier today with her belligerance and defiance. It started before swim lessons, and nearly cost her that privilege, but her irritability and my frayed nerves were strung tight, though I thought provision of a snack for the short drive home would fend it off. When I wouldn't comply with her demands immediately when we arrived home (I don't even remember what they were now) she became enraged and declared she wished she had another mommy. I decided to let her see how much she’d hurt me. Texting a friend to vent during the process was really helpful for me. Later, Yosie cried with me, told me she loved me, we talked, and apologized and made peace as we snuggled on the couch and watched DragonTales together.
Yosie did a great job in swim lessons this AM. She’s looking more like she’s swimming instead of just barely fending off drowning.
I took a shower and made coffee before we left for swim lessons.
(i’m recording events backwards in time for Day 6, if it’s not apparent yet...)
I crawled out of bed @7:30am to answer Yosie’s repeated shouts, from the bathroom. I know I’m a mom, cuz I started my day wiping her butt, and I said “good morning” besides. *sigh*
Somewhere in there I read 2 pages of “The Complete Stories”.
