I seem to be much more productive at home on the days I write and/or am working on my novel in other ways (music, problem-solving).
Is that because I’m actually home, or is it because “creative energy” is buoying me through less-creative things as well?
I don’t know.
Got a bunch of books yesterday, and sat a while reading the new ones to the kids.
One really cute one is Lingingstone Mouse where the little critter is searching for China, where he wants to set up his new nest after leaving home. The first time we read it I had just said the bit from his mother about it being time to leave, and LM was excited and ready to go.
Melody squirmed with anticipation beside me and gushed, “Ooohhh he’s gonna get stepped on!”
Our developing tragedian. Hmmm.
~ ~ ~
Elisha’s ability to articulate has been increasing. He is participating in the household rituals with the solemnity of a priest– informing me for the first time that they had become rituals:
M: Elisha!
E: Yes?
M: I love you!
E: I love you too.
He’s also gotten to where he can parrot whole phrases and count in sequence. The girls have memorized Flint by Christina Rosetti (ask them to recite it for you sometime), but Elisha’s nearly got it too, and will recite bits with them. Barely understandable unless you know what he’s trying to say, but if you know what you’re listening to you can hear every syllable and all the inflection (which, of course, all the children learn as faithfully as a tune).
Other clear phrases we’ve heard recently:
Oh, and every dog is “joule.” Not just its name, its identification. Joule is now his word for dog.
Precious. I enjoy it immensely.
I wrote about Elisha’s first protective act here, but there have been three more in the last few months that were clearly deliberate, and I want to remember them too.
Back before Jay returned from Antarctica I would send Natasha out with Joule to hold the leash and make sure the dog did its business in the right place. One of these times the door locked behind her, and she was stuck out back.
I was in the midst of a morning rush, focused on my work and didn’t hear her calling for help. What I did notice was Elisha stumping first to the back door, then to the entry way for his boots, then to me to ask for help putting them on. I helped him, only vaguely wondering what prompted this sudden interest in shoes.
We have a hard-and-fast rule that the children cannot enter the garage without something on their feet.
He next tromped to the back door and went into the garage. I followed to give the “What do you think you’re doing” speech and finally heard Natasha’s frantic yells. Elisha had already run across the garage and I followed him. I still don’t remember who opened the door for her, but I was quick to tell Natasha it was Elisha who first heard and came to her rescue.
~
More recently the children were just finishing the dishwasher and Melody got her finger stuck in the door.
Now, Melody is (currently) my most reactive child, and that causes me to filter every sound she makes and sometimes to discount the significance of her distress. On this particular day, all three children were standing by the door and has happened before, someone besides Melody initiated the closing of the door.
She has screamed about this before with her hand hanging on the closed door, so I hope anyone will understand when I admit I launched into my “this isn’t how we communicate” lecture.
Through wails that nearly obscured her meaning she finally communicated that her finger was stuck, and before I could cross the room Elisha had stepped forward and pulled the door back open for her.
This was something the girl could have done for herself if she had thought of it, but one of my current frustrations is that she will fixate on a problem to the exclusion of looking for a solution. This is *very* frustrating to me.
My own M.O. is to “manage” any pain or issue by focusing on the solution or the search for one. I hope this is a difference that we may work out sooner rather than later.
~
Then, just today (sparking my interest in writing all this down), the children were watching Finding Nemo and Natasha called to me to sit with her for “a scary part” (she’s not truly scared, anymore, but it has become something of a ritual) when I came to her she was leaning against Elisha (who would be half her size except he was sitting on the arm of the loveseat) with his arm around her shoulders.
“He told me, ‘Don’t be afraid, Natasha,’ ” she said, obviously delighted. “I don’t need you now.”
Natasha received a delightful word-toy that allows kids to build their own sentences out of phrases (parts of speech color-coded, for the most part).
What I now need to figure out is how to teach the difference between sentances that are nonsense because of content, and sentances that have no sense because they don’t contain a noun or a verb.
Let’s see… I’m not sure If I can make this short or interesting, but there were enough details that I felt the need to write them down.
Last Monday Jay left early in the morning, and after he left I read an e-mail from my mother that she and my dad had driven to Anchorage because my uncle being treated for cancer had caught pneumonia.
It was -40° and there was a serious question of whether this would be the last good-bye.
The next day I had to get NJ to her 6-year-old well-child check-up early, and at the doctor’s office explained to the 6- and 4-year-old the concept of cancer and the possibility this beloved uncle could die soon.
Melody at once said, “I want to see him before he dies.” And as soon as she said it I knew I felt the same way.
We left the next morning– Tuesday– as soon as we had ourselves collected and the dog dropped and the boarder’s. The daylight driving was uneventful, but as we entered twilight the weather descended and I was driving with little and no road markers (because of the fresh snow), wind, and blowing snow.
It was yucky, but we made it to town and met everyone at the hospital for a nice visit before making our way to the house we were staying at. Before we left Fairbanks I knew that the antibiotics and fluids Providence gave him had pulled my uncle back to a semblance of normal, but still felt we were to go.
The next day, Wednesday, the weather in Anchorage was nutsy: freezing rain, icy streets, wind blowing emptied garbage cans all over the residential roads.
Mom and Dad went out early to figure out what was going on with Uncle A’s release, and the children and I hung about in a structureless mush until Dad came back and brought us all with him back to the hospital for a last game of Memory before Uncle A went home. Forecast that night was for ANC to reach 65 degrees on Thursday.
Our Hostess offered to let us stay another night: the roads were still awful, and though some of them were drying out we knew that driving north we’d reach some point when they froze again, and then God help us.
Dad left on an experimental drive to pick up some things and while he was gone I checked the weather report for Friday. It looked worse than what we were already in. I voiced the opinion that if we were going to leave today or tomorrow the odds looked better for today. Dad agreed when he got back and we packed the cars, the kids, and headed out.
The younger two were with mom and dad, and Natasha is very good at being quiet when told, so I could focus my attention on seeing through the crazy, wet snow blowing down.
We were creeping along a corner when I felt my back wheels turning to catch up with the front. I remember turning into the skid and registering enough correction to slid into the snowbank nose-first rather than sideways. We were fully off the road, and the first thing I noticed was a state trooper pulling up behind us with his lights going.
I felt a little disoriented (though not from the slide– more from the mental effort of staying on the road up to this point), and Natasha had some loose stuff tumble onto her, but otherwise we were fine. The trooper said I was doing everything right; it was just too slippery on the road. He radioed for a wrecker, and it arrived relatively quickly, considering we were in the middle of nowhere…
The truck pulled my car out of the snowbank and that was all it needed. Nothing was wrong with it, and I was quite content to let Dad drive it the rest of the way to Tapper Creek. An hour before we got there we stopped at a gas station to call ahead and found they had two rooms available and one had a queen bed and two twin-sized beds. Mom reserved it and said we were on our way. We arrived 2 minutes before their scheduled closing-time of 10:00p.m.
With Natasha on the couch and Elisha in the porta-crib he’s used in ANC, everyone had a bed and slept well.
We left when it was light, with Dad still driving my car, and when the roads started drying out we traded back.
The rest of the trip was without incident, other than we passed a handful of other vehicles off the road.
Oh yes, that was the bit I left out. Moving on again from where my car was released from the snowbank, we were down to about 15MPH. Half and hour down the road we passed a truck on its side. Our adventure could have been a lot messier than it was.
While we were waiting for the wrecker Natasha watched the Trooper’s lights and observed matter-of-factly, “God told that man to stop and help us. Just like in Bible times!” “That’s because he’s the same God as was in Bible times,” I answered. “He doesn’t change!” And she was so delighted it spilled over in giggles.
I’ve always heard of stories like these but hadn’t any first-hand experience.
Tonight I saw Elisha in the hallway going through a spilled box of new pencils, putting them back in their box. There were a few eraser ends next to him on the floor and the tail-end of an unsharpened pencil headed for his mouth when I flicked him and reminded him (again) erasers aren’t for biting.
I walked away and heard a matter-of-fact tone that included the word monsters.
“What did you say?”
He pointed toward his bedroom.
“Monster ate it.”
We started Annie with the kids while I was folding clothes last week.
I turned it off after the “We Got Annie!” song, because I was growing more and more convinced now isn’t the right age for that movie. But it was a terrific up-beat ending for their introduction to the movie, and the girls danced around with their dolls till naptime, replaying that final image:
We’re excited to adopt!
Melody and Natasha created their own versions and variations of songs on that theme, and one of Melody’s seemed particularly insightful (All voiced by her):
A: What do I need?
B: Nothing I don’t have now.
A: What’s wrong?
B: Nothing’s wrong, so Let’s adopt our dollies!
All accompanied by delighted leaps and twirls.
Yesterday, despite the 40-below, Jay and I decided we needed to go grocery shopping.
It’s a conveluted story, but the end was that only Elisha came with me. When we got back, Natasha asked why we’d taken so long. I explained it’s because it’s been a long time since we went grocery shopping, and so had a lot to do.
“It hasn’t been a long time,” Natasha protested. “You just got back!”
It started yesterday, and is nearly done today: the house transformation.
And we had a cool Christmas, too.
I stayed up late moving some furniture and finishing a little “Melody” dollhouse doll (each family member had a doll in their stocking) to go with the dollhouse we gave the girls this year.
Both girls loved their little parka dolls from Teena, making up elaborate stories all morning, and Elisha asked for his new puppy toy to sleep with during nap.
Yesterday Jay and I brought home our new bedframe and mattress. He assembled it last night (we’ll be buying the plywood to go under the mattress tomorrow) and I spent most of today working around the children to move the last of our room into its new home.
To update:
Last weekend, while the kids were at a hockey game with Gma Florie and Papa, we moved the bookcase and file cabinet out of the yellow room, and moved their beds in. Over the time since then we’ve been transforming the (former) master bedroom into the playroom, and the kids’ old room into our sleeping place and my office space.
The frame we bought (we did end up buying a frame) is a double-loft with a desk underneath. My dresser fits under the edge of the desk nearest the wall, making my workspace an L-shape, and I’ve set up the tiny built-in shelf with my small collection of knick-knacks.
My favorite thing about this rearangement is that each room (that the children use) has a very specific purpose which (psycologically, at least) makes it easier to keep it in order.
The kids have been in their new room a week now, and every night the floor is clear before they go to sleep.
They had their first day with their play-room today, and every time they left something I could (and did) direct them to go back and finish putting it away. Thanks to having a space for e.v.e.r.y.t.h.i.n.g. it was straightforward and eaisially done.
They’ll probably be 14 before they’ll know where to put everything without direction, but it’s consistently worked better than the toybox method as long as I’ve been available to direct them.
And I washed *all* the dirty clothes in the house. After folding and putting away about three loads yesterday.
I have six baskets of clean waiting to be folded tomorrow– and everything (after today’s work) is going to be going to its real keeping place; the moving’s all done.
In a week.
It seemed both very fast, and an eternity.
I am very pleased to be finished.
Aside from the laundry (and the stuff that’s under a foot of snow now–and I’m mostly used to living without) all I have left to do is to set up my writing area.
Again, from Jen’s idea.
~ ~ 1 ~ ~
Jay’s talking about wanting a pellet-burning stove. I’m asking where it will go.
I’m asking for a double bed with drawers. It will take up less room (in our little room) than the queen-sized bed (we never use all that space anyway), and let us get rid of at least one dresser.
Both changes will make more room for book cases 😉 Eventually.
~ ~ 2 ~ ~
The cast list was sent out last week, and my name was by “doting mother,” which comes just before a list of “my” seven children (a boy, three girls and my own three kids). This might have seemed really cool, except just a couple days before Jay had fielded a call while I was out, inviting me to play “the matron.”
Leaving aside the self-image rearrangement that I looked more like a “matron” than a lady (hmmm?) the description of the role he was given created some questions that have yet to be cleared up.
~ ~ 3 ~ ~
I have my latest project (with Christmas for the deadline): dollhouse dolls.
I was so excited to see Barbara Curtis’s post about the hugely discounted M&D dollhouse that I bought it the same day (it’s still going for under-retail now, but then it was $47.99, I think). Local retailers ended up being out of the little dolls, so now I am in the process of making little flexible family members to live in said house.
It may even turn into an “entrepreneurial opportunity” as one owner of a sold-out shop emphatically affirmed her store would be very happy to offer locally made dolls.
(We’ll see how interested I am after I finish our own bundle)
~ ~ 4 ~ ~
I was at Barnes and Noble yesterday, considering all the delicious ways to spend a gift card, and the oddest thing happened as I cruised the section of the children’s department where I read the most.
I felt a claustrophobic tightening in my chest. Just standing and looking at books was making me dizzy, and not in a good way.
This I’ve noticed only once before: when perusing the Lloyd Alexander section in my local library. Dude’s got a gobzillion books out!
I can only suppose the feeling is a goulash of emotions: anticipation (someday I’ll be there), anxiety (when will that be? When will I be done?), overwhelmed-ness (at the prolific-ness of other writers), and maybe even jealousy (at the freedom they seem to have in order to be prolific…)
I had to make myself be still and pray, waiting for God settle my mind and emotions before I could finish looking for the book I wanted that day.
Unreal, but making me again thankful I have a God who’s bigger than my emotions.
~ ~ 5 ~ ~
Once that was over I propped myself in one of the cushy chairs by their circular fireplace and worked some more on the timeline of my novel. I had two distinct packages emerge in the process, and solved a squished-time dilemma (I’ve needed an extra day and just found where it belonged).
So, I have to give Jay’s fireplace idea some credence. There’s a lot to be said for watching the flames. It’s like a shower for your brain. At least for me, having something visual and real, but inconcrete, was very useful.
~ ~ 6 ~ ~
I’ve decided I like to eat too much for weights or Pilates to be enough exercise.
Not that I eat a lot (I imagine I’ve got that under control) I just like, a lot, to eat. And the stuff I want to eat, that I’ve been eating, has maintained me 13-lbs above my target weight (trust me when I say my target is not unrealistic, or even low, for my height).
The trick, as with all exercise, is finding something sustainable.
Free weights and Pilates are doable because I can take from books and do them in my living room. The walking with my dog has been put on-hold because sub-zero walks are far from the motivating delight “normal” walks are.
I’ve considered a step, as I like the space requirements and exercising to music, but I’ve not taken the plunge yet.
We did see one in the same place Jay noticed a pull-up bar he wanted, so we may end up getting both together. Maybe for a new-year’s project.
~ ~ 7 ~ ~
After looking yesterday at all three furniture stores in-town, Jay decided he wants to build the bed frame himself.
His goal is to get the main support and frame built this weekend (so we can buy a mattress and get our bed off the floor) and to design it so that a later-constructed set of drawers may be slid under it whenever they are completed.
This was the design we liked best out of what we saw, only most of these drawers were simple “friction” drawers, where you needed to drag a wooden box out of a wooden hole.
Jay knows he can do better than that, though he/we might not even have bothered, truly, if it weren’t for the exorbitant cost of new furniture. If I’m paying over a thousand dollars for an item (we’re pushing a house-payment here!) I expect to get *exactly* what I need.
I suppose we could be considered unreasonable consumers. But there you are: Jay will take on a project, same as me, when he knows he can do it as well, or better, then what is otherwise available.
So the bed will come before the fireplace– but I expect the next time we’ve saved some house money the fireplace will be next.