This has been a crazy month. A terrible month, in a lot of ways, but a good month in that I survived it and I did not fall into a giant depression hole of doom. This is a real thing that happens to people and has happened to me. I held myself at the edge of the hole without falling in and that makes me happy and proud and a little amazed, because a year ago I fell into that hole once a week.
And, now, we sit ready to embark on September. September, oh glorious September. I have sort of a love-hate relationship with September because it's generally regarded as being "fall," coming, as it does, mostly after Labor Day. And yet, September is still very often ten million degrees. I am not exaggerating. Except that I am.
So, in that vein, I shall share
Five Things that Should be Saved for Cold Weather
1. Fall school pictures - We have pictures twice a year around here. We have fall pictures and spring pictures. I personally believe that this because the schools are trying to kill us. It could be fundraising. I don't know, exactly. But, in any case, the thing that I like about the idea of fall pictures and spring pictures is that I should be able to have pictures of my kids in cute fuzzy sweaters and adorable sundresses. No. Because, really, they are both in the summer. This year, "fall" pictures have already been taken and I bet "spring" pictures will come in late April. You know, so lots of summer clothes and sandals. Absolutely no fuzzy sweaters.
2. Football - I have had four sunburns this year. Three of them were obtained at football practice and games. Seriously, football should involve stadium blankets and hot cocoa, not frozen water bottles and tank tops. Of course it doesn't help that when you are four, your games are at 1 p.m., but still. Football=hoodies. Make it so.
3. Pumpkins - I'm starting to see the first pumpkins out for purchase and it makes my head hurt. There should be frost on the pumpkins. Not sweat.
4. Fall festivals - My small town fall festival is next weekend. Next weekend. The current forecast says low 80's. And okay, thank goodness for the word low, but this is hardly sweatshirt weather. And that is what you should wear to fall festivals: sweatshirts and cute but sensible boots.
5. The Great Winter Panic - Every year, I enjoy the discussion of the winter to come. What color are the woolly worms? When did the acorns start to fall? Something, something, pigs' intestines? This year, it sounds like it's going to be horrible. And by horrible, I mean right up Jessi's alley. Of course, Jessi liked that alley better before she started paying for heat. But in any case, this conversation is supposed to just hold it's horses until the sun shifts and the nights get chilly.
In short, I'm longing for jeans and hoodies, boots and scarves, jackets and steaming cider. I just wish that it would hurry up and get here. I'm melting doing all this autumn stuff in beach weather.
Friday, August 30, 2013
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
Things I Forgot
Ducky,
This weekend, I worked on cleaning out my basement. I know you've never seen my basement, but it was kinda crazy. Still is, really. I only got about half under control and that half still isn't perfect.
It was a lot of throwing stuff away, a lot of sorting through old things. A lot of re-living parts of my life, sometimes with smiles, sometimes with tears in my eyes and a lot with that Scarlet O'Hara, "As God as my witness..." face on.
I found a huge box of pictures. I shouldn't keep pictures in the basement, but I do. I think, partially, because I want them to survive the tornado that I'm always sure is coming next week, next month, next March.
I knew that I should keep moving, I should just ignore them and get back to the hard work: the furniture moving, the tossing of slightly moldy stuffed animals, the organizing of books, the putting of Christmas stuff back where the Christmas stuff goes.
But, I thought, I needed to do this. I needed to go through my pictures and pull out the Ex's pictures and give them to him. I needed to let go of some things, like the ridiculous panarama pictures we took on our honeymoon and all the pictures I had of his cousins and the pictures his mom gave me of him as a little boy. I need to get it out of my house, because it needs to be my house.
So, they were all mixed up, these pictures, which was a little surreal. There I was at 3, looking for eggs in the front yard; there I was at 22, standing next to the Christmas tree wearing an awful snowman sweatshirt; there I was at 17, in a R.E.M. t-shirt and a top hat; there I was at 30, pregnant at the zoo, there I was at 19 wearing a Strawberry Shortcake top with my arms around a girl whose last name is on the tip of my tongue.
All of those memories were a little disorienting. And then...
Then, there was you. I don't have a lot of context, because it was just you, nothing else in the picture. I think it was before we went to London, but not necessarily.
But looking at that smile, that infectious, amazing smile, that glint in your eyes and that tilty way you always held your head, I remembered something that I had forgotten. I loved you. I never called you my best friend, you were never really one of "my boys," but you were one of my truest friends, and I loved you so very much.
But it all came back to me as I looked at that picture. I remembered how good you were, how kind you were, how you never let me down or hurt me or let me hurt myself. How you always took up for me, especially when it was me putting me down, especially when I deserved it.
I remembered how you once got me drunk at 6:30 a.m. to make me stop being mad at you and how that was one of the best days of my entire life. I remembered how you told me to shut up when I was making an ass of myself. I remembered all of it. All the stupid things we did, all the time we spent making fun of the people who hurt us, all the Ultimate games, all of it.
I remembered the night before I left, sitting in the cold grass and looking at the stars and praying that you'd ask me to stay and praying that you wouldn't because I didn't think I could.
I've kept a finger on most people, tracked them. Facebook helps, blogging is good, Twitter works in a pinch. But I've lost you entirely. I don't know where you are or who you became or what you're doing.
I hope you're happy. I hope you read this and know that you were so special. I hope you never read this and you only remember me however you remember me. If you remember me.
It was just so surreal, looking at you, there in my basement. And I wish, I really, really wish, I had kept up with you. I wish we were still friends and I could call you and tell you about how things are right now. I wish that somewhere was another side of the line with you on it, to tell me that it's all good, I'm all good, I'm rocking this.
I'd like the chance to tell you too. That whatever you're up to, you're rocking it. Because you always did. Even when you thought you were terrible. I wonder now if I was half as good to you as you were to me and I'd like to make that up.
Always,
Jessi
This weekend, I worked on cleaning out my basement. I know you've never seen my basement, but it was kinda crazy. Still is, really. I only got about half under control and that half still isn't perfect.
It was a lot of throwing stuff away, a lot of sorting through old things. A lot of re-living parts of my life, sometimes with smiles, sometimes with tears in my eyes and a lot with that Scarlet O'Hara, "As God as my witness..." face on.
I found a huge box of pictures. I shouldn't keep pictures in the basement, but I do. I think, partially, because I want them to survive the tornado that I'm always sure is coming next week, next month, next March.
I knew that I should keep moving, I should just ignore them and get back to the hard work: the furniture moving, the tossing of slightly moldy stuffed animals, the organizing of books, the putting of Christmas stuff back where the Christmas stuff goes.
But, I thought, I needed to do this. I needed to go through my pictures and pull out the Ex's pictures and give them to him. I needed to let go of some things, like the ridiculous panarama pictures we took on our honeymoon and all the pictures I had of his cousins and the pictures his mom gave me of him as a little boy. I need to get it out of my house, because it needs to be my house.
So, they were all mixed up, these pictures, which was a little surreal. There I was at 3, looking for eggs in the front yard; there I was at 22, standing next to the Christmas tree wearing an awful snowman sweatshirt; there I was at 17, in a R.E.M. t-shirt and a top hat; there I was at 30, pregnant at the zoo, there I was at 19 wearing a Strawberry Shortcake top with my arms around a girl whose last name is on the tip of my tongue.
All of those memories were a little disorienting. And then...
Then, there was you. I don't have a lot of context, because it was just you, nothing else in the picture. I think it was before we went to London, but not necessarily.
But looking at that smile, that infectious, amazing smile, that glint in your eyes and that tilty way you always held your head, I remembered something that I had forgotten. I loved you. I never called you my best friend, you were never really one of "my boys," but you were one of my truest friends, and I loved you so very much.
But it all came back to me as I looked at that picture. I remembered how good you were, how kind you were, how you never let me down or hurt me or let me hurt myself. How you always took up for me, especially when it was me putting me down, especially when I deserved it.
I remembered how you once got me drunk at 6:30 a.m. to make me stop being mad at you and how that was one of the best days of my entire life. I remembered how you told me to shut up when I was making an ass of myself. I remembered all of it. All the stupid things we did, all the time we spent making fun of the people who hurt us, all the Ultimate games, all of it.
I remembered the night before I left, sitting in the cold grass and looking at the stars and praying that you'd ask me to stay and praying that you wouldn't because I didn't think I could.
I've kept a finger on most people, tracked them. Facebook helps, blogging is good, Twitter works in a pinch. But I've lost you entirely. I don't know where you are or who you became or what you're doing.
I hope you're happy. I hope you read this and know that you were so special. I hope you never read this and you only remember me however you remember me. If you remember me.
It was just so surreal, looking at you, there in my basement. And I wish, I really, really wish, I had kept up with you. I wish we were still friends and I could call you and tell you about how things are right now. I wish that somewhere was another side of the line with you on it, to tell me that it's all good, I'm all good, I'm rocking this.
I'd like the chance to tell you too. That whatever you're up to, you're rocking it. Because you always did. Even when you thought you were terrible. I wonder now if I was half as good to you as you were to me and I'd like to make that up.
Always,
Jessi
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Oh, Yeah, That's Why
A couple of weeks ago, some moms I know were complaining about school starting back. They felt like summer had been really short and they weren't ready to send their kids back yet.
I'm not one of those moms. I am also not one of those moms who is thrilled about school starting. I'm in the middle. There are things I like about the kids being in school and things I don't like. And now, with my mom keeping the girls after school, instead of afterschool programs, I would see very little difference in my day-to-day life. Or so I thought.
Now that we are well into week 2, let me tell you something: I am so, so wrong. So, so often.
There are still a lot of positives to school going again. For starters, routine. Kids (and mommies by proxy) thrive on routine. For another thing, earlier nights. It's so much easier to avoid things when you have to get the kids to bed on time. Finally, there is the fact that my children happen to love school. It makes them happy. When the screaming kiddos are happy and less screamy, the world is happy and less screamy.
But okay, downsides. First of all, routine. Despite the fact that we all work better when we are in one, getting back into one is a little like trying to cut steak with a spoon (slow going and frustrating). I swear, I'm going to lose my mind before I get them back to the point where they do all their nighttime stuff without my constant reminding (read nagging).
Secondly, earlier nights. It's fine when I want out of something, but really sucky when I don't. Not to mention that sometimes I just can't get out of things. There's always this timing issue to balance. And it's usually not enough to get home before bed time, oh no, you have to get home an hour before bedtime if you want people to shower, brush their teeth, get their planners signed, lay out their clothes and be in bed by bedtime.
There is also homework. Despite the fact that Brynna has been looking forward to homework for the past month, it's still a constant battle to get it done. The reading log is particularly sad this year. Last year, I just had to initial that she had read. This year, she has to say what she's read and how many pages. Which means no more switching back and forth between eight books. Because I've got to be able to keep up and check.
Finally, there is the mornings. Every year, I forget how hard 5:45 is over the summer. I think it will be okay and I'll get used to it. Then it comes and I remember, oh yeah, this is how I feel the entire school year. This sucks.
And this year, there is car line. I mean, there's always car line, but for some reason, car line magically morphed into hell over the summer. I got there ten minutes early this morning and was still six groups back from the door. That's over 72 cars. I've been "on time" every other day and been almost late by the time we get to the door. This, my friends, this is the cause of road rage.
Ugh. School's back. I wish I was still naive enough to believe that this was a good thing.
I'm not one of those moms. I am also not one of those moms who is thrilled about school starting. I'm in the middle. There are things I like about the kids being in school and things I don't like. And now, with my mom keeping the girls after school, instead of afterschool programs, I would see very little difference in my day-to-day life. Or so I thought.
Now that we are well into week 2, let me tell you something: I am so, so wrong. So, so often.
There are still a lot of positives to school going again. For starters, routine. Kids (and mommies by proxy) thrive on routine. For another thing, earlier nights. It's so much easier to avoid things when you have to get the kids to bed on time. Finally, there is the fact that my children happen to love school. It makes them happy. When the screaming kiddos are happy and less screamy, the world is happy and less screamy.
But okay, downsides. First of all, routine. Despite the fact that we all work better when we are in one, getting back into one is a little like trying to cut steak with a spoon (slow going and frustrating). I swear, I'm going to lose my mind before I get them back to the point where they do all their nighttime stuff without my constant reminding (read nagging).
Secondly, earlier nights. It's fine when I want out of something, but really sucky when I don't. Not to mention that sometimes I just can't get out of things. There's always this timing issue to balance. And it's usually not enough to get home before bed time, oh no, you have to get home an hour before bedtime if you want people to shower, brush their teeth, get their planners signed, lay out their clothes and be in bed by bedtime.
There is also homework. Despite the fact that Brynna has been looking forward to homework for the past month, it's still a constant battle to get it done. The reading log is particularly sad this year. Last year, I just had to initial that she had read. This year, she has to say what she's read and how many pages. Which means no more switching back and forth between eight books. Because I've got to be able to keep up and check.
Finally, there is the mornings. Every year, I forget how hard 5:45 is over the summer. I think it will be okay and I'll get used to it. Then it comes and I remember, oh yeah, this is how I feel the entire school year. This sucks.
And this year, there is car line. I mean, there's always car line, but for some reason, car line magically morphed into hell over the summer. I got there ten minutes early this morning and was still six groups back from the door. That's over 72 cars. I've been "on time" every other day and been almost late by the time we get to the door. This, my friends, this is the cause of road rage.
Ugh. School's back. I wish I was still naive enough to believe that this was a good thing.
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Brynna's Own Brand of Fairies
This past weekend, the girls and I attended a fish fry at our new church. After we had eaten*, I sat around and talked to adults about people I don't know, because I'm still working on it. The girls ran off and played with other kids.
Brynna found a little boy about her age and they seemed completely entranced in what they were doing. They were both crouched on the ground, heads together by the back steps of the church, deep in conversation. No one else ventured too near them and I didn't want to interrupt whatever was fascinating them.
When the boy left, Brynna wandered over to see what I was doing. By that time, I had noticed Maren making over a newborn and decided that I should intervene before she decided to pick him up and change his diaper. After I had warned her to keep her distance and respect the baby's personal space, I got pulled into a discussion on heredity and hair.
I broke away and asked Brynna what she was up to, as she stood watching me.
"I wanted to show you these," she said.
What she held up were carefully constructed garments made of blades of grass, tree leaves and weeds. They were held together by clover stems and tiny blooms from something yellow.
"They're beautiful," I told her. "What are they?" Some kids are offended if you ask them what something they've made is. Brynna is opposite. She wants to tell you, to explain in great detail.
"They're fairy clothes," she responded. "Did you know that fairies used to be this tall," she asked holding her hands about a foot apart, "but now they are only this tall?" Her hands were now only a few inches apart.
"Really, why?"
"They just started growing that way. Because of the people."
"Oh, evolution. Sort of the opposite of human evolution. We've gotten taller."
"Yeah. They can live other places now. Like inside flower buds. It makes them harder to find."
"Oh, yeah? Where do they live in the winter, when there aren't many flower buds?"
"Warmer places?"
"Oh, they migrate?"
"The males do. The females live under porches and decks and inside Christmas decorations."
For the next hour, as we got Maren, gathered our things, bid our farewells, and drove home, Brynna regaled me with the complicated and perfect set of rules governing fairy life. Everything from keeping and hunting animals to cooking habits were discussed. (By the way, you should know that fairies are vegetarian, but they hunt and raise animals for their skins (which are sometimes used for clothing) and to feed to their carnivorous pets like owls.) Every question I asked received an answer.
Fairies are born without wings and begin to grow them at the beginning of puberty. They sleep by folding them around them like a blanket, except for fairy children who sleep however they like. Female fairies do most of the work, but males travel a lot. Some fairy families have psychic members who see the future and prepare their families. Fairies don't like to cook, but do for company and special occasions.
I can't begin to describe how wonderful it all was. As someone who has spent a lot of time reading fantasy of one stripe or another, I am always fascinated by the world building, the governing rules, the particular set of myths a creator uses. Seeing Brynna build a world in a couple of hours was truly amazing and oh so fun. I hope she builds a million more.
*Well, after I had eaten and the girls had very politely failed to take anything but baked beans, tomatoes and cookies.
Brynna found a little boy about her age and they seemed completely entranced in what they were doing. They were both crouched on the ground, heads together by the back steps of the church, deep in conversation. No one else ventured too near them and I didn't want to interrupt whatever was fascinating them.
When the boy left, Brynna wandered over to see what I was doing. By that time, I had noticed Maren making over a newborn and decided that I should intervene before she decided to pick him up and change his diaper. After I had warned her to keep her distance and respect the baby's personal space, I got pulled into a discussion on heredity and hair.
I broke away and asked Brynna what she was up to, as she stood watching me.
"I wanted to show you these," she said.
What she held up were carefully constructed garments made of blades of grass, tree leaves and weeds. They were held together by clover stems and tiny blooms from something yellow.
"They're beautiful," I told her. "What are they?" Some kids are offended if you ask them what something they've made is. Brynna is opposite. She wants to tell you, to explain in great detail.
"They're fairy clothes," she responded. "Did you know that fairies used to be this tall," she asked holding her hands about a foot apart, "but now they are only this tall?" Her hands were now only a few inches apart.
"Really, why?"
"They just started growing that way. Because of the people."
"Oh, evolution. Sort of the opposite of human evolution. We've gotten taller."
"Yeah. They can live other places now. Like inside flower buds. It makes them harder to find."
"Oh, yeah? Where do they live in the winter, when there aren't many flower buds?"
"Warmer places?"
"Oh, they migrate?"
"The males do. The females live under porches and decks and inside Christmas decorations."
For the next hour, as we got Maren, gathered our things, bid our farewells, and drove home, Brynna regaled me with the complicated and perfect set of rules governing fairy life. Everything from keeping and hunting animals to cooking habits were discussed. (By the way, you should know that fairies are vegetarian, but they hunt and raise animals for their skins (which are sometimes used for clothing) and to feed to their carnivorous pets like owls.) Every question I asked received an answer.
Fairies are born without wings and begin to grow them at the beginning of puberty. They sleep by folding them around them like a blanket, except for fairy children who sleep however they like. Female fairies do most of the work, but males travel a lot. Some fairy families have psychic members who see the future and prepare their families. Fairies don't like to cook, but do for company and special occasions.
I can't begin to describe how wonderful it all was. As someone who has spent a lot of time reading fantasy of one stripe or another, I am always fascinated by the world building, the governing rules, the particular set of myths a creator uses. Seeing Brynna build a world in a couple of hours was truly amazing and oh so fun. I hope she builds a million more.
*Well, after I had eaten and the girls had very politely failed to take anything but baked beans, tomatoes and cookies.
Monday, August 12, 2013
Making It! Overdue Edition
I am not going to pretend to know how many things I've made since I made my last Making It! post. But, I am going to talk about a couple of things I know I've made.
First up: The Decade Blanket
Here's why I call this the decade blanket: I started it for a child who just turned ten. It turned out to be really slow going and so I put it down, made something else and called it day. I've held onto it through the years and picked it up now and again to do a few rows and then put it back down again.
I finally finished it. Of course, when I picked it up this last time, I discovered that I had been doing it wrong for ten years. Might have even gone quicker if I had done it right, who knows? In any case, finished, given away and I really, really loved it.
What I love most about this blanket is the eyelet edge for a ribbon and the wide lace edging. The pattern is in the baby section of Crochet Collection. I can't even begin to tell you the yarn for certain, but I think it's a Baby Bernat. Coordinates, maybe?I went through a phase of obsession with that particular yarn.
I love this in the white. I had originally intended it for a little boy and had planned on using navy blue ribbon, but I really think this green gingham is so cute and fun.
First up: The Decade Blanket
 |
| Ignore the light. It was almost 2 a.m. |
I finally finished it. Of course, when I picked it up this last time, I discovered that I had been doing it wrong for ten years. Might have even gone quicker if I had done it right, who knows? In any case, finished, given away and I really, really loved it.
What I love most about this blanket is the eyelet edge for a ribbon and the wide lace edging. The pattern is in the baby section of Crochet Collection. I can't even begin to tell you the yarn for certain, but I think it's a Baby Bernat. Coordinates, maybe?I went through a phase of obsession with that particular yarn.
I love this in the white. I had originally intended it for a little boy and had planned on using navy blue ribbon, but I really think this green gingham is so cute and fun.
Second: The Dress and Hat
 |
| Ignore my toes. |
My cousin is having a baby, which is awesome because we sort of thought that our uteri were connected. (Her oldest is 4 days older than Brynna and her youngest is 13 days older than Maren.) In any case, she is having her first girl!!!
She has been fairly resistant to girls, in general. Something about ruffles and bows and Barbies and pink. My response has been a resounding, "Have you met my children?" Followed up, of course, by "Here's some ruffles and flowers and pink. Barbies are under copyright."
This is quite possibly my favorite thing that I have made in a while. This is the pattern for the dress on Ravelry. (As per usual with me, you need an account to get to it, but it's free and the pattern is free.)
I made a few small adjustments. Mainly, I worked the yoke as directed, then, worked the skirt in the round. I made the side with the buttons the back, instead of the front, then added the flower. I also worked the last row of the pattern in a different color (rather than adding a row).
The hat is just a hat. Made up and not a pattern.
I've been making those big, floppy flowers so long now, I totally can't remember where the pattern came from, but I think it was a book of hats or bags or something. The yarn is Caron Simply Soft in Blue Mint and Neon Pink.
This was so quick and so much fun and I truly love the end result. It got rave reviews from the mom-to-be, too.
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
35 Tings to Do While I'm 35
It's that time again! I am officially 35. I've really enjoyed the last two years' lists, even if I've failed miserably at them. Click to the right if you want to see the progress (or incredible lack thereof) of 33 Things and 34 Things.
This year's list is giving me fits. I'm having a really hard time coming up with things that I really feel strongly about doing and also think are moderately accomplish-able. For instance, I'd like to go to Alaska. I know that I will not be able to afford Alaska in the next 12 months. (Baring amazing.)
So, here we go. The best I can come up with.
35 Things to Do While I'm 35
This year's list is giving me fits. I'm having a really hard time coming up with things that I really feel strongly about doing and also think are moderately accomplish-able. For instance, I'd like to go to Alaska. I know that I will not be able to afford Alaska in the next 12 months. (Baring amazing.)
So, here we go. The best I can come up with.
35 Things to Do While I'm 35
- Consistently make my kids do chores - Much improvement. Maybe not "consistent" yet, though.
- Finish my book (take 2) - Whistling and looking the other way.
- Make the front of my house look like someone lives there (take 2)
- See 6 non-kid movies in the theater - Catching Fire, Veronica Mars, Divergent, Captain America: Winter Soldier, Occulus, Maleficent, The Fault in Our Stars, X-Men: Days of Future Past - completed 6/20/2014
- More music - less TV
- Start work on my kitchen - Mudroom phase 1 complete, colors chosen, office removed
- Make a will - completed 7/20/2014
- Rebuild my emergency fund (take 2)
- Have a game night with the girls at least once a month - Succeeded in August, October, December, January and February - game night is totally overrated, right?
- Take way more pictures of the kids - eh.
- Take way more pictures of myself - the year of the selfie
- Open my Etsy shop
- Track what I read
- Read at least 60 books - 28. Shut up.
- Learn to knit (take 3) - completed 2/21/2014
- Knit a scarf to prove I can (take 3) - working on it
- Clean the basement - In progress
- Have a bookcase in every room (except the bathroom) - Living Room, Maren's Room, Kitchen, My Room, Brynna's Room - Done!!
- Quit it with the Pop-Tarts - Pop Tarts once, not bad...
- Dress like me - better...
- Make my bedroom into my happy place - new bed in progress, colors chosen, new bedding
- Get housecleaning under control - working so hard on this!
- Make 20 of my pins
- Take the girls somewhere they've never been
- Do something fun for me every month - January - aquarium, March - Veronica Mars, April - Captain America, May - Montessori fundraiser, June - X-Men, August - drive in
- Play with the kids (again)
- Add to my zombie apocalypse skill list - does knitting count?
- Walk 200 miles
- Go on a first date - done
- Write something every day
- Crochet more - I crocheted more this December than I have in the past year combined.
- Spend more time doing things that I love
- Spend more time with people I love
- Never read more than 100 pages of a book I hate
- Laugh loud and often
Updated 8/3/2014
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
First Days and Mourning Zoe
Sunday night, about 10:30, I sat down for the first time in four or five hours. I had just finished making about 20 breakfast burritos and freezing them. I was ready to move on to something lazy. Sitting still in front of the TV and pretending to be a plant, maybe.
Brynna's door opened. I am lucky to have a house with really noisy doors to both of the girls' bedrooms. I put on my annoyed face and got ready for the whining. But that face dropped away as soon as I saw Brynna's crumpled face. She looked absolutely devastated.
She walked quickly to me and settled next to me on the couch. She looked up at me with absolute misery in her eyes and said, "Zoe died."
I wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and pulled her to me. My heart broke for her, but at the same time, I was filled with joy for the prospects that she had ahead of her.
You see, the Zoe whose death broke my little girl's heart was Zoe Nightshade of the Percy Jackson series.
It took me a good half hour and a lot of different tactics to calm her down. I employed everything from "Well, she's mythical, she might come back," to "I know it's hard, but this is how you know a book is good and important, when it makes you feel.
I can't help but be excited for every new thing she reads, every new world she slips into. She went down to my bookshelves last night and rummaged around and finally chose Roll of Thunder, Hear my Cry. I love it when she reads something I loved. And I love it when she reads different things, things totally un-alike.
The world is her oyster. She can be and do and like and enjoy anything she wants. And a large part of that is because she loves books.
Today was the first day of fourth grade. And she is, of course, a little nervous about it. She had butterflies this morning and even last week at open house. I don't worry about that kid in the least, though. She hopped out of the car this morning and never looked back at me, because she's got this.
She knows who she is and what she wants. She's good and smart and powerful. She is driven and interested and engaged. She loves school and reading. Her worst subject is gym. Seriously.
But even if it all falls apart, even if she gets a terrible teacher and hates the fourth grade and comes home crying every day, she will survive. Because she'll have a million other worlds where she can escape. A million adventures, a million love stories, a million monsters to slay.
She's got this.
Brynna's door opened. I am lucky to have a house with really noisy doors to both of the girls' bedrooms. I put on my annoyed face and got ready for the whining. But that face dropped away as soon as I saw Brynna's crumpled face. She looked absolutely devastated.
She walked quickly to me and settled next to me on the couch. She looked up at me with absolute misery in her eyes and said, "Zoe died."
I wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and pulled her to me. My heart broke for her, but at the same time, I was filled with joy for the prospects that she had ahead of her.
You see, the Zoe whose death broke my little girl's heart was Zoe Nightshade of the Percy Jackson series.
It took me a good half hour and a lot of different tactics to calm her down. I employed everything from "Well, she's mythical, she might come back," to "I know it's hard, but this is how you know a book is good and important, when it makes you feel.
I can't help but be excited for every new thing she reads, every new world she slips into. She went down to my bookshelves last night and rummaged around and finally chose Roll of Thunder, Hear my Cry. I love it when she reads something I loved. And I love it when she reads different things, things totally un-alike.
The world is her oyster. She can be and do and like and enjoy anything she wants. And a large part of that is because she loves books.
*********
She knows who she is and what she wants. She's good and smart and powerful. She is driven and interested and engaged. She loves school and reading. Her worst subject is gym. Seriously.
But even if it all falls apart, even if she gets a terrible teacher and hates the fourth grade and comes home crying every day, she will survive. Because she'll have a million other worlds where she can escape. A million adventures, a million love stories, a million monsters to slay.
She's got this.
Friday, August 2, 2013
Five Things on Friday - Oh, Hello Edition
Hey, hi there. It's been a week. A really weeky week.
Here are Five Things I Should Have Told You All But Didn't
1. I finished Camp NaNoWriMo - I met my 40,000 word goal and discovered that my novel is going to be significantly longer than 40,000 words. I've been taking a break for the last couple of days because it was full on sprint there at the end (hence the blogio silence), but I'm going to get back to it this weekend. I'm pretty much thrilled to be a Winner, though!
2. I'm officially a football mom - Maren had her first football practice last night and it was so exciting. And hot. But fun. And hot. Oh, who am I kidding, it was mostly hot. She seemed to have a good time, despite being really freaked out by the other kids. She's good at catching and she seems to be learning the basics quickly. I had my trial by fire as I chased her around the house, trying to get her to bite down on a mouth guard straight out of boiling water. That was fun.
3. I went and had my hair done - I've been thinking about this for a long time and it came down to this: I am currently pretty solid in my job, which requires little contact with uptight people who wouldn't like it, my kids still think it's cool when mom acts like a teenager, and I wanted to. I cut off enough for Locks of Love, but I left it at the hairdressers, so I'm going to have to chase down my piggytail.
4. I have a fourth grader - School starts on Tuesday and open house was last night. There is something fundamentally wrong with me having a fourth grader. I mean, I'm only, like what, 22. 28? 30? Just shut up, okay.
5. Tomorrow is my birthday - I'll be 35. Which seems significant. I'm just not sure why. Here is my prediction: I think 35 is going to rock. And rock hard. 35 is going to be my year. 35 is the new black. 35!
What about you? I've been blog reading only slightly more than I've been blog writing. What'd I miss?
Here are Five Things I Should Have Told You All But Didn't
 |
| Winner badges not available until next week. Apparently the people at Camp aren't as into instant gratification as I am. |
2. I'm officially a football mom - Maren had her first football practice last night and it was so exciting. And hot. But fun. And hot. Oh, who am I kidding, it was mostly hot. She seemed to have a good time, despite being really freaked out by the other kids. She's good at catching and she seems to be learning the basics quickly. I had my trial by fire as I chased her around the house, trying to get her to bite down on a mouth guard straight out of boiling water. That was fun.
 |
| Yes, it's pink and black. Yes, it's really short. |
4. I have a fourth grader - School starts on Tuesday and open house was last night. There is something fundamentally wrong with me having a fourth grader. I mean, I'm only, like what, 22. 28? 30? Just shut up, okay.
5. Tomorrow is my birthday - I'll be 35. Which seems significant. I'm just not sure why. Here is my prediction: I think 35 is going to rock. And rock hard. 35 is going to be my year. 35 is the new black. 35!
What about you? I've been blog reading only slightly more than I've been blog writing. What'd I miss?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)