Saturday, December 26, 2009

Through eyes of love, double chins and all.

I love this photo.

You may have missed it in the previous post, or perhaps looked and said to yourself, why on earth has she included this unflattering shot?

It was taken early in the morning, just inside the bedroom door where a cherished purple scarf (a Mother's Day gift from a few years back, given me by my husband) and a burnt orange cashmere one (given me by my friend Jo when her cancer prognosis seemed particularly grim and she was purging possessions) hang near a well thumbed copy of Whitman's Leaves of Grass -- from which a friend read at our wedding, and from which my husband read aloud as I labored at home with our son. Other favorite volumes fill the shelves, seen and unseen. Seen above my husband wears a uniform shirt from a job he lost a few years ago, an event that shifted the foundation of our world, and greatly altered the course of our young family's life; at the time of this loss, our son had celebrated his first birthday mere days before. And I am holding a very hot mug of French roast coffee in a mug (pilfered from mother's home some years back) that curves just right and despite a small chip is the one I reach for most mornings. Details that make up the small stories of our shared life.

The Mister and I are looking particularly puffy, unrested, bleary eyed, lined of face, double chinned.

And yet, as my friend Tracy -- mother to four amazing little boys -- remarked, this is the way our son sees us. With love. With admiration. With great forgiveness for what we might see as flaws.

This is how we are beheld by the four year old angel in our home, from four feet (or so) high.

And that, my friends, is beautiful.



(Speaking of which, please go read about love, learning and loss over here at Beverly's Circle Squared. Her perspective so often speaks to my condition, and I am grateful for her words and outlook from which I myself learn much.)

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Happy Merry Wonder, 2009.







Dear Ones,

We wish you a most Merry Christmas, and Happy Solstice and New Year – as we welcome more light into our days, prepare for the arrival of the innocent infant, and relinquish the old to welcome the new.

It’s the first year in many (despite not actually having sent most of last year’s out) that I simply decided not to do paper and photograph cards with postage. Following a particularly lean year in national and personal economic downturn, I felt it important to simplify and be better stewards of our resources. We as a family chose to forgo having a tree as well. Instead, we trimmed down our gift lists, and donated our extra warm layers to those who needed to put them to immediate use. We purchased bicycles for a family through St. Luke’s Community House Christmas giving program --we adopted a family with a few friends-- and have done a gigantic purge of toys and clothes and household resources, reallocating them to where the need is greater than our own. It feels more in alignment with the Season than other choices we might have made this year.

The Mister has continued to work two jobs, in the warehouse at The Great Escape (a record, comics, and collectibles store), and at WPLN Nashville Public Radio as weekend announcer, a post he’s held for six years now. Following some restructuring at the store-- which also entailed a reassignment and substantial paycut --came a lot of soul searching. The Mister decided upon a new career and life path: he begins a Masters program in Education – the Art of Teaching, K-6 – in January. The program is designed for non-traditional working adult students, so he’ll be rejiggering his schedule some, and in eighteen months, should be ready to lead his own classroom in elementary education. We’re all very excited for him, and proud of his high achievement scores on the Praxis exam. A recent trip to Costco prompted Ziggy to choose a bundle of socks from a display which featured a man wearing a backpack, “Oh, LOOK, Mama,” he cried. “School socks! We need to get these for Daddy, because he is going to school and will teach school! School socks are very important.” Of course, we made the purchase.

Mid year, I began a whole new life phase, working outside the home rather than from home or toting my child all the time. Ziggy and I finished up our 9 month program at RIP (Regional Intervention Program) in the nick of time for me to hold regular office hours. The progress we made at RIP with his separation anxiety and our mutual acquaintance with current schooly schedules and rule allowed Ziggy to enter a preschool program at a church with hardly a blink. Only weeks later did he tell me from his confessional seat in the back of the car on our commute, “I was a little scared when I started my new school, Mama. But now I’m not, because I got used to it.” I assured him that when I began my new job as Coordinator of the Nashville Peace & Justice Center, I, too, was a little scared. And yet we’ve both bravely faced our fears. I’m working more now than originally, which also means he’s in school more, and he does accompany me to work in the field and at the office with some regularity.

Now four and sporting newly short and “stylish” hair, Ziggy is having a very sweet experience at school. There he feels valued and loved and comes home with new songs and stories and craft projects to share. His teachers have grown dear to us, we love and appreciate them so. He’s made new friends and my intent to homeschool seems to have been bypassed due to circumstance. “I’m different than so-and-so’s kids,” Ziggy regularly says. Our fifty mile roundtrip commute from place to place affords us the latitude to enjoy music (Polyphonic Spree, Jason & the Scorchers and things that “rock out”) as well as audio books (Jigsaw Jones mysteries and the highly recommended The Secret History of Tom Trueheart) We also have a great deal of time for intensely inquisitive conversation which ranges from what boys like versus what girls like to how many Gods there are, to why the people lined up at the mission don’t have jobs or enough to eat.

We’ve joined the arena of organized sports, something Ziggy could hardly wait for, and the boy and I love our Open Doors membership at the Y for giving us this opportunity (as well as the outdoor pool all summer, indoor exercise classes and equipment all year, and access to hang out with some dear friends.) Soccer was in the fall, and was a hoot, as much an entertainment for the parents as well as a full-on experience for the boys and girls. The Mister lent a hand when needed to redirect kids on the field or to use our Coach’s video camera, and I somehow became “Mom” both on and off the field to even the coaches. Currently one evening a week and Saturday mornings are devoted to the dojo, Sensei Stonerock, and karate. Thus far, the physicality and the discipline well match Zig’s visceral and spirited athleticism and persona.

The Mister and I well enjoyed our New Year tradition of watching a series over several nights / weekends – this year, we borrowed Deadwood and loved it for its Shakespearian drama and dialogue and superb storytelling. We also made it out to a few events in a darkened theatre where we held hands and I ate copious amounts of popcorn. Hands down, our favorite of these was the This American Life Live!, wherein one of our most well loved public radio shows was broadcast visually, simultaneously, at theatres across the country. Other books, movies and things we’ve enjoyed individually or as a family this year include the Fantastic Four, pirate and other imaginary play, Pippi Longstocking, The Children of Noisy Village, Frank Bruni’s autobiography, Facebook, growing vegetables, playing board games, Farmer Jason shows, and church.

Yes, church. We began attending Belmont United Methodist Church last year, then took a break for a number of months, and are now back onboard, with imminent plans for Ziggy and me to become members. The Mister and I have been particularly pleased with Belmont’s work with immigrants through Justice for Our Neighbors, its Golden Triangle ministry, progressive stance on reconciling ministries and public opposition to the English Only initiative. We like the intergenerational family atmosphere at Belmont, the outstanding music ministry and the opportunity to participate. Too, the boy and I enjoy the weekly church suppers and programs, the mix of both tradition and progressive theology, and lots of families with children involved in service and outreach, something we long to share with others in consistent community.

Ziggy and I regularly visit with my folks --Papa and Diggy -- and my sister Dana and her family in East Tennessee. We head across the plateau, which is a three hour drive each way, every few weeks. The cousins play, we swim all summer, and the adults enjoy Scrabble, especially when brother Jeff and his wife Laura are down from Boston. Diggy came to Nashville a few times during the year, and Papa joined her on a trip to celebrate at Ziggy’s fourth birthday party, a big neighborhood community center all ages affair with old fashioned games and picnic foods and punch in a big bowl. We also conspired with Papa and Dana recently to give a surprise birthday party for Diggy! Occasionally, Ziggy and I meet Papa and / or Diggy at the Cracker Barrel in Cookeville to lunch and visit midway between our cities. I also get together regularly – in Chattanooga or Fayetteville -- with my “other sisters” collectively known as The Chicks. These are the friends made over half my life ago at University of Tennessee at Chattanooga. We’re closer than ever before, and our children all know and love one another; Ziggy calls theme his cousins. What a blessing.

The Babcocks, too, are a blessing. Grandma and Grandpa came through town for a few days twice this year as part of their annual road trips. In August they got to spend time with The Mister and Ziggy in particular, while I worked, and then some special time just with Ziggy while his dad and I went out on a rare date. And we had a truly wonderful visit with them over a long Memorial Day weekend in which we harvested rhubarb, and Ziggy helped Grandpa raise the flag on the pole. This traditional visit also includes rousing games of croquet and eenie-eye-over with the extended Christenson clan. This year was particularly special, and in hindsight, bittersweet, as it was the last visit we had with Great Grandma Frieda. She passed away in November, at 93, after having suddenly taken a turn in health. The Mister was able to head north to Michigan to be with family for a full week, keeping his folks company and being a part of the family memorializing. His presence was of particular comfort in the absence of sister Ingrid who couldn’t get away from London quickly enough, and brother Kirk who awaits the imminent birth of his third child in Wyoming. The Mister led his cousins in carrying (Great) Grandma’s casket, and came home with lots of stories and warm feeling. He has written a beautiful account of his time during the week of Grandma’s death. I’m sure he’d be glad to share it with you if have interest.

Both The Mister and I entered the year heavier and tireder and more stressed out than is optimal. We’re working on that in myriad ways. We’ve both trimmed down a bit, he both more quickly and more substantially than me, and we partake in regular family physical activity as well as individual pursuits. Year after year, we enjoy the nearby Shelby Bottoms Greenway in every season, and this fall was particularly beautiful for getting out for hikes and time spent in nature, usually with the family dog, Bert, in tow. My gardens and our CSA shares for meat, eggs and produce keep us healthily fed; I continue to delight in cooking for my family and friends, who continue to enjoy good eating.

My year has largely been spent mothering, homemaking, gardening, blogging, volunteering, and working. I LOVE my job. I work three-quarter time, and so enjoy using my brain and my heart and my experience to both earn, and make the world better. I’ll be working in the coming year on development in particular, as well as creating actions, campaigns, educational and outreach programs as well as coordinating our member organizations.

I’ve also become recently aware that in all the years I wasn’t going to grad school and creating and impressive career path, I was learning how to form deep and abiding friendships, a treasure in my crown, no more an apology. (Also the very heart of the community organizing I’ve been doing these nine years in Nashville.) Today, in addition to full outer circles of community, I am more than blessed with a bounty of dear women friends (and often by extension, their families) – I just could not do it (as well, or cheerfully) without them. As a newer friend recently said, “How did I ever get such sexy, smart and spiritually wise friends?” Indeed. That extends from the oldest to the newest of “my girls,” who dwell both near and a bit far away. My husband wisely notes how these relationships benefit all of us and are a dear thing to behold. We take care of each other’s children, volunteer for each other’s organizations, drive across town or state or the region, and show up with meals, hugs or cups of tea when needed. We have each other’s backs in both joy and in sorrow, and often answer calls from one another late into the night and before the sun comes up. We’re not afraid to cry, but I’d venture to say we laugh far more often. We lean into each other’s companionship on the journey. My cup runneth over.


From our home to yours, we wish you joy in the Season, and peace in the coming year, along with a great deal of companionship for the journey.

With love,
Ms. Booty Homemaker, for The Mister and Ziggy, too

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Happy Birthday, Joe Ben, son of Zona.

Last year, Ziggy helped make Papa's cake, and topped off the cake with an apple. Nice touch!


Today is my father's seventieth birthday. Known now by the family mostly as Papa, he remains one of the smartest, handsomest, most complicated men I know. I love him madly.

The fourth child of Temple Dee La Grone and Arizona (Zona) Mae Davis La Grone,
both of Deadwood-- that's Deep East Texas, y'all; Panola County-- Joe Ben is the one remaining member of the family, having been preceded in death by both parents, as well as brothers Marlon Venson and Troy Howard, and sister, Temple Mae (not in that order.)

The last number of years, I've tried to replicate Zona's ice box fruit cake as Daddy's birthday gift. He, my father, has most of what he needs, and much of what he wants. Attempting to recreate this family specialty is both a show of practicality, and of devotion, to both him, AND to his mother, and his memory of her.

I'll be doing this next week when our family is all together, and though I've written of it previous, I have also improved on the recipe, and include it below for those of you willing to try.

The updated recipe:

ALMOST ZONA's ICE BOX FRUIT CAKE

2 boxes graham crackers
1 lb. mini marshmallows
1 stick butter
2 cans Eagle Brand sweetened condensed milk
1 bag sweetened coconut
1 lb. pecan halves & pieces, toasted
2 lbs. mixed candied fruit (green & red cherries, pineapple)
1/2 lb candied pineapple
2 jars maraschino cherries w/ juice

Bust up graham crackers into crumbs-- I squished them in wrapper packs, then used a potato masher; it is not necessary to pulvarize them into itty bitty crumbs. Put this in a giant bowl. Add all dry ingredients.

Over medium-low heat, melt marshmallows w/ stick of butter and can of condensed milk.

Pour wet ingredients over dry. Mix. When it's cool, use your hands. Infuse with LOVE.

Press mixture into big buttered tupperware (or two) and refrigerate at least over night.

Each time you wish to eat some, pull cake out of fridge and cut into hunks or pieces. It's craaazy good, craaaazy dense.

Recipe subject to improvements and tweaks!

Schoolmates.

Ziggy and two chums at their school Christmas party at which Mrs. Claus made an appearance, the children participated in a little gift exchange, and Zig LOVED passing out his teacher gifts.

My work schedule allowed me to attend the party, for which I am so grateful.

These boys are so precious.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Thankful Thursday.




December 17, 2008


Dearest Teachers and Staff at CCC,


This dark early morning, as I finish up some small gifts in celebration of the season of wonder-- and in token appreciation of all you do—I am struck by some things I want to convey. I so wish I had time available to tell you each, or to handwrite it. Given time and circumstance, this will have to suffice. I trust you know how sincerely it is offered.


Born of necessity, I became a reluctant "school" mother who has, more and more, worked outside of my home. In the short space of the last half year, I have come to really appreciate my adult time working (and the familial benefits that reaps) AND the people who help make that possible: friends, family, and YOU. That my son is daily in a place where he feels loved and valued and experiences joy is impossible to measure. Your part in making things so for our little family is a blessing, beyond what you’ve been asked (or paid) for.


Each day upon arrival, I say a silent little thanks and prayer for my son, and for each of you, as you spend time together.


I offer these small gifts to you as a small show of all you mean to us. Our gifts aren't fancy; they are, however, infused with great appreciation, respect, and love.


Thank you so very very much for giving our boy your care.


Take joy in this season, marked by light and the innocence of the infant’s arrival,


XXX


Wednesday, December 16, 2009

You CAN teach an old dog new tricks.

Woof, woof!

Recent insight: I'm learning the difference between rumination and problem solving. If after two minutes of thinking about something, the thinking isn't leading to action OR is not FUN, I can stop the train and get off. I can get back on at will.


To that end, in terms of both small and large thinking items:

* cut the hair
* purchase living room sofa, etc.
* pursue life coaching and therapy as needed to lead to insight and moving forward
* put mail clutter plan into action with excellent problem solving model
* use this model for other areas of work
* find a church home
* pursue further education path possibilities, then act
* clarify current and mid-term earning ventures
* look into home purchase


And today, get on with it. Catch up on laundry, make teacher and friend gifts, gather at community center, pick up winter CSA share, be present for washing machine maintenance person, prepare for tomorrow's day at school / work for me and the boy, etc.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

The way we were, the way we are, the way we will be.

The official 2008 family portrait for the Christmas card that was never sent....

It has been decided. We are not doing the paper and postage kind of *Christmas card for 2009.

We're also not doing a tree at our home. Nor are we doing large exchanges and big time buying, something we've actually never done, though this year it's even more pared down.

In an effort to simplify and be better stewards this year, we have instead opted-- and decided in unanimous agreement-- to utilize such resources to adopt (with some other families) a family through St. Luke's Community House; to donate our extra jeans, sweaters, coats, long sleeved shirts, and other warm clothing items to those who need them more; and thirdly, to put some monies toward our household needs.

First up, buying a new couch (the old one, having belonged to several families prior to us, was sullied beyond repair with vomit and heavy use.) I'm very excited about this, as I've never in my life purchased a new piece of furniture such as this, and have been doing much research. It is with no small amount of grown-up feeling (pride? enthusiasm? accomplishment?) that I look forward to providing this for myself, and my loved ones with my own earnings and decision making power.

Additionally, we have work and other changes taking place as the year winds to a close and begins anew. These demand greater planning, and greater responsibility with resources with everyone on board. More on that as it comes.


*If you'd like an email version of our family letter and photo(s) for the 2009 holiday season, let me know.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

On some things beloved.


I love funky bold boho / ethnic kind of necklaces and bracelets.

Also warm and kind of funky hats. Deep red lipstick. Bath and body products with essential oils.

Dark chocolate. French roast coffee.

Outsider / self taught art. Pink houses. Linen clothing. Scarves (tie up hair, wrap around shoulders or neck) and wraps.

Spiritual seeking. Labyrinths. Wooden cooking utensils. Good books.

Functional / organizational stuff.

I love music sometimes. I love being out of doors. I love a great pair of socks. I love to eat.

I love bird watching and cooking for people I love.

I love playing board games. I love spending time with my friends and family.

I love hanging out and drinking coffee or tea and visiting with dear friends.

I love laughing. I love tradition. I love singing.

I love digging in the dirt or walking in nature.

Most of all, I love my kid.

I love feeling at peace and feeling the presence of God, of love, of rightness.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

And then some other stuff happened.


Many things have happened since last I wrote here.


Some highlights, or, uh, stuff that constitutes life that I'm actually willing to share in so public a forum:

I'm working more hours. Essentially, I'm still a full time mother and homemaker and girl Friday (Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday too), and then I earn a living as a three quarter time worker.

The boy has more childcare / school hours.

I've mourned and moved on from the dream of homeschooling.

There is still no small resentment about not having another child, though, I admit it hasn't been and isn't wise for responsible reasons. And still. I wonder if that hole in my heart will ever close, really.

I have seen my nurse practitioner several times.

I continue to purge possessions.

There have been several weeks of beautiful weather after heaps of rain, which have now turned again to heaps of rain. And early darkness. But there were a lot of good hikes and out of doors outings during those beautiful weeks of crisp air and fall color.

There was Fall soccer, which was grand fun.

And then Ziggy started karate and got a tick in his scalp. Unrelated events, save for the timing of my having only partially pulled out the tick one evening (the legs had a really good grasp) and then karate was right after at which point one of my midwife friends with a son who also takes karate took a look at Zig's head.

He, Ziggy, turned four. I threw him a kick ass low-key community center pirate picnic party with our amazing friends present. He is in the ninety-seventh percentile for height, and the ninety-fifth for weight. He is a baby viking king; delicious and precocious and challenging and really good company a lot of the time. Especially when he is not threatening that Jesus will kill me, or to call the police on me, or move in with Melanee instead of me because I won't buy him a shirt from Target on a particular day.

Things eaten that were enjoyed -- chowder, turkey sandwiches, granola, tetrazzini. Oatmeal most mornings. Sweet potato and black bean enchiladas with greens. A couple lunches out at Indian food.

I rearranged the entire bedroom, and also moved the living room around, breaking, in the process, two very large bookcases, the contents of which propelled forward, avalanche style.

There was a week or so when I just couldn't stop crying. It was a really bad week.

My family and friends rallied round during a rough go and held my hands both literally and figuratively, and stepped up to help care for my boy when I needed to work.

Things often found in my bed -- a sprawling long haired four year old boy, a sock monkey, cough drop wrappers, a "wooby" cat, a bald eagle called Tatters, a small stuffed dog called Bingo, a very large stuffed dog called Baron, a copy of whatever I'm reading (Frank Bruni's book or some self helpy thing or essays on mothering and politicism.)

Things sometimes found in my bed -- stray socks, bits of crunchy leaves or crumbs from midnight snacks, a snoring man.

Some sicknesses. Some with vomit, some with snot.

Halloween, and Thanksgiving. And the beginning of Advent.

My husband's grandmother got ill, and then passed away. Our son understands about the spirit leaving the body, but the information about the body itself and what happens next has brought on much questioning and conversation.



Oh, and today? this man asked me if I was Ziggy's grandmother. I smiled and said, "No, I'm his mother." And I swear to you, he looked at me as if he was thinking, "Sure, lady. Fat chance. Whatever you say, you lying liar of a grandmother."