Working / Mothering.

This morning, I rose, packed lunches, prepared breakfast, readied, put together backpacks. Drove to school. We listened to Galactic in the car, and encountered a great deal of traffic. We purchased a copy of The Contributor from our regular vendor at 440 and Murphy Road. 

I parked the car. The boy, who has been trying to get rid of this cold since 10 days ago, coughed a cough that made me tune into my mother wisdom (better late than not at all,) turn around and go straight to the pediatrician. Bacterial bronchitis. Expensive designer meds. Another day out of work for me, and class for the boy. 

Outside the Publix, while the prescriptions were being filled, I called my boss to let her know of my absence. During this time, I was approached by a very hungry woman. I gave her the cash I had remaining from my week's worth, and hoped she bought food with it that would stick to her ribs. 

Breathing deeply. Working and parenting is not always the most easily navigable when one tries to do both well.

And yet: I have a job. A much needed job. One I like very much and want to hold onto. My family has plenty to eat, and a warm home to which we can retreat for healing during this 26 degree day in what may be the hardest winter our country has experienced. Tonight when we tuck in, we'll say a special prayer for Miss Rita and all too many others like her, who do not have what we do. And we'll remember to be grateful, and to share what we've got.  

Home. Health be restored.

 

 

Mornings.

Snacktime at Diggy's, over the holidays.

Having all the boy's standard school attire at last in one dresser upstairs in his room has proven a boon, and has removed the necessity of choosing clothing for the morning box. (Instead, the morning box contains the backpack, coat, mittens, hat, and any other items like library books or toys that need to be taken for the day or returned to someone / somewhere.) My big kiddo is doing a great job of dressing for the school day, with a choice from each drawer, no help needed. SSA trousers (in khaki, navy or black,) a collared shirt (solid color,) and often a sweater or fleece pullover on top (also solid covered.)

I must say: I love the whole SSA program. It simplifies the shopping and readying process greatly, and evens the playing field for children from all strata and income levels. Additionally, there's the frugal and environmentally / economically friendly exchange program. The kids look pulled together and have a sense of appropriate (as in, no heinies hanging out or Juicy wording on the booty) style for school, yet are given room to add a personal bling to add one's own flava. My boy often adds a headband, a necklace, newsboy cap, bracelets or rings.

The new parka from Diggy is grand, as are the specially commissioned hand-knit mittens in camouflage colors -- these most especially appreciated when the temperature is in the twenties and the back deck and stairs are coated with ice -- something which, asidely, prompted the Mister to put a "travel ban" on me, his oft falling wife.

This morning, the Mister prepared to take the boy to school  by walking the dog and warming up the car, while I packed lunches and prepared breakfast, sorting this and that for my own work day and carpool duties at school day's end.



"What would you like for breakfast, son? Cheerios with bananas and milk or yogurt, OR a breakfast burrito with eggs, salsa and cheese in a tortilla?" I asked my boy as he dressed for the day.

"Actually, I'd like Pancake Pantry," said my boy.

"Good one, but not a choice today, pal."

"What did you say my choices were again?"

Once more through the choices, and the boy suggests, "How about eggs and toast?"

"Done," I tell him, and scramble up a half dozen, make oven toast, and sautee up spinach and onions to add to my own breakfast.



Despite effort, father and son still leave late for school. (Last minute readying by the Mister, forgotten precious Lego piece by the boy, prompting one last trip inside from the car....)

I enter my own eats and water intake on livestrong.com -- a simple calorie counting tool I like for its ease and accountability. Move on to other tasks.



Now, if only I could find my phone charger....

First day of school in the year 2011.

No trouble getting the boy up. He is READY for the return to kindergarten after Winter Break. Ready with his share day item (a Bakugan character, carefully placed inside an index card file box,) a breakfast eaten (Cheerios with bananas and milk,) decked out in standard school attire (sizes 6 and 7, including his new fleece pullover from Diggy.)


After breakfast, he whispered to me, "I want my hair to look like Kendall's." And so he's blown right past the spiky faux hawk look for today, to wanting his hair to "look flat, with bangs, actually one bang, kind of pointing down, like this," he says, index finger pointed downward at a slant. Kendall is from modern The Monkees type show and band Big Time Rush, and the boy thinks he is very, very, very cool.

Reflections and intent.

In this new year, I'll be spending less time on the computer in general; on Facebook and a message board for mama friends in specific.

I will exit the year fitter, stronger, healthier, and smaller than I've entered it. Also braver.

As with previous years, I will continue to be working on being a better steward of resources in all facets.

I'll also be looking to expand radical hospitality in the ways in which I am so led. With the twin focus being to hone in on service to my very own family.

Less time spent on junky / less essential and distracting stuff makes for more time spent really present, with my child, my Mister, and other loved ones. Even me.

I want to exercise and read more. Have more dates with my Mister, and in general make more time for each other -- have deeper conversation, renew efforts to do things we enjoy together.I want to publish to earn again. To bust out the sewing machine, to excel in my work and in my schooling by putting forth the effort and putting in the time.

I want to move more, sit less. Listen more than I speak. Get plenty of sleep, eat green foods everyday, make fruit my favorite snack. Allow there to be room -- in my thoughts, my pants, my relationships. I want to know myself better, and how to address the realest longings of my heart.


Awhile back our Sunday Night group met. It was an evening of confession. I found something to confess to, and it was a real thing, but the thing gnawing at me that I couldn't bring myself to say aloud was, "Gluttony. I've been jamming myself full of biscuits and information and tasks and chocolate and Facebook and cups of coffee with half and half and none of it really feeds me, but I don't yet know how to be comfortable without all this -- there's a hole where I'm lonely and scared and sad and I'd really like to do it all differently. I am making myself sick with this way of being."

So, there. I've said it. And with each reflection and plan for the New Year, I state my intent to do it all differently, to thank my fat for protecting me, Facebook for its companionship, and so on. And let it go.

 It is well past time.

Mistakes and anticipated mistakes.

I have been corrected repeatedly for pronouncing "the" as "thee." And "either (read: E-ther) as "eye-ther."

By my five year old son, I mean.



In the car the other day, he told me that I make parenting mistakes. I make "yelling mistakes," and, he goes on, "the kind of mistakes like if you're driving to a birthday party and you take a wrong turn."



Last Tuesday afternoon he informed me that I'd gotten a note in his school folder for not sending his Encore (gifted program) folder to school.

I found no such note, but the point was most certainly taken.



And just shortly ago, when called by HR (at last!) to confirm my clearance and orientation date as the science lab teacher at Ziggy's school after the Winter Break, I told him that we'd be going to and from school each day together.

No "cool mom." Oh, no.

Instead, the thoughtful instructions, "When we're outside and Mrs. Flynn tells you to call someone over because I have told on them for doing something bad, don't say to them, 'let's just talk about it.' You should just tell them to go to time out."

"Oh, because I don't really use time out and what I usually do is talk about problems?" I ask.

"Right," he says.

"And you're worried I'll do the wrong thing," I ask.

"Yeah," he confirms. "At school you're just supposed to tell kids to go to time out. OK?"

Snow larder, part 2.0

Two days out of school-- Monday and Tuesday. A half day yesterday, to accommodate the anticipated ice storm. Alas, the front moved Easterly fast. My family in the eastern part of the state are homebound today due to dangerous icy roads and low temps (that means my sister is not teaching today, and her girls are getting a jump on their winter break and are home with her today.) Here, I woke to rain and strangely balmy weather. When I walked into the darkened living room at 5:30 this morning to plug in the tree lights and fire up the Amish fireplace, I realized rather quickly that the latter was unnecessary.



I made coffee, put on a pot of cocoa, and cooked up bloody monster eyes (egg in a nest with a drizzle of ketchup) for breakfast. Readied a bag of outgrown standard school attire (SSA) to pass on to Ziggy's teacher for children in class, and tucked our wonderful gifted teacher's gift into a bag. We had a talk about not sharing hats or coats as the first case of lice has been confirmed in Ziggy's class, and it's only a matter of time before we may experience this, too. Then sent my boy off in his pirate jammies for pajama day at school, where his elementary school librarian will be reading Polar Express to the kindergarten children. It's a half day. I'll pick the boy up early, then he and I both have teeth cleanings. His will be his first, as our beloved dentist and hygienist have previously thought he didn't really need it until age 5.

This evening we'll have a friend's child over for supper and maybe a movie or a game or two of Bingo, as the child's parents have a holiday party to attend. Ziggy loves having friends here, and is pleased that we'll have another friend's child with us tomorrow, and yet another friend's child with us on Saturday afternoon. We've also offered to have a schoolmate attend church with us on Sunday, so we shall see....

In the meantime, I am doing a little meal planning.

In recent weeks, I instigated a mealshare with my girlfriend Erin. She and I both have three person families: two adults and young primary school aged boys. We feed our families well rounded omnivore type diets, enjoy cooking, and live within a mile of one another. Thus far, it's served as an inspiration to break my uncharacteristic non-cooking rut, and a desire to be creative, using what I have. She shares a meal with us on Mondays, I do Tuesdays. Another bonus to having a "meal in the bank" as it were, and to extending our flavors and styles of meals, is seeing one another even if only for a few minutes a couple times a week.

My snow larder list earlier this week has been much commented upon, not so much here, but in real life. I suppose I should clarify that the list is one of options and making one or two choices eliminates other choices because ingredients will get used up.

So far this week, I have prepared eggs and toast (with help from Ziggy,) bloody monster eyes, and tuna melts, and we have eaten from
Erin's rice and spicy beans. Additionally I have prepared a pot of pinto beans with CSA porkchops, along with cornbread, and a supper of taco soup and homemade macaroni and cheese. Both of these meals have been shared with friends, one for my friend Kate's family during the time their young son was in the hospital (he has been effectively treated and is now home!) and the other for the aforementioned mealshare with Erin's family.

Presently, I have some beautiful CSA leg quarters pulled from the freezer and thawed, ready to make into something. I believe I'll be trying out my friend Nibal's baked garlic chicken, something she calls a typical middle eastern dish, with the trinity of typical spices cinnamon, nutmeg and allspice. Yet I have no allspice.

I may borrow some, or have to do without.

What have you been feeding YOUR family?

Stylin'.

 

Yesterday morning the boy was taking an awfully long time readying for school. I snuck my camera through a cracked bathroom door and this is what I found: one five year old super stylin' kindergartener, dressed in spirit shirt and cords & jazzy lanyard / yo yo / Silly Band necklace, and a whole lotta hair product going into the faux hawk. 

If it's like this already, I can not even anticipate the teen years.

But oh, my! Isn't he delicious?