There is this picture of my mother holding me. I must be just about Kate's age. I didn't have any hair either. She's looking at me and I'm looking off at ... something. There's so much light we are squinting our eyes.
I find myself at times in that same pose, holding Kate. Focused on her as she takes in what's around her. I see so much of myself in her. In David. Their actions, mannerisms, fears.
And I think of how much I have taken from my mother. And wonder how much she took from hers.
unfinished ....
Friday, May 14, 2010
Saturday, May 1, 2010
My have a joke
"My have a joke. What time is it with trees?"
"What time?"
"They get all tangled up!"
laughter. laughter. laughter.
I think you have to be 2.
"What time?"
"They get all tangled up!"
laughter. laughter. laughter.
I think you have to be 2.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
oooh! a piece of candy!
I know. Two posts in one day.
Just a couple things that have made me laugh or smile the past couple weeks that I don't want to forget ....
(oooh a numbered list!)
1. We are all sitting at the dinner table.
David: My balls are sore.
Me: what?
David: My balls are sore. I was playing with them today. I have balls in my balls.
Me: ....
Mike: Sometimes if we squeeze them too hard they hurt.
2. Kate while eating ice cream on a mom & Kate day
"It's yummy in my tumbly"
She wanted to try some of mine. I gave her a bite. She wanted me to try hers. She takes a huge scoop and shoves it in my mouth. "we are sharing!" says Kate.
3. Kate while playing with her Barbies
"It's okay. Mommy's here."
As she kisses them and puts them to bed.
4. Kate is laying on the couch, hysterical because she is going to have to use the nubulizer.
David: "It's okay Kate. You are so brave. Remember in the doctors office. You can be brave again."
5. Getting into the car for school
Kate: David will you help me?
David: Yes Kate
He opens the door for her. I was in the foyer grabbing backpacks and coats.
I come out into the garage to find them both in the car.
Kate tells me David helped her get her leg up.
6. Sitting on the couch between David & Kate, who is hopped up on steroids at the time.
Kate: (leaning over me to talk to David) Mommy doesn't love you.
Me: I love you both Kate. You are both my babies.
Kate: (in a nasty voice) David looks like a baby.
Just a couple things that have made me laugh or smile the past couple weeks that I don't want to forget ....
(oooh a numbered list!)
1. We are all sitting at the dinner table.
David: My balls are sore.
Me: what?
David: My balls are sore. I was playing with them today. I have balls in my balls.
Me: ....
Mike: Sometimes if we squeeze them too hard they hurt.
2. Kate while eating ice cream on a mom & Kate day
"It's yummy in my tumbly"
She wanted to try some of mine. I gave her a bite. She wanted me to try hers. She takes a huge scoop and shoves it in my mouth. "we are sharing!" says Kate.
3. Kate while playing with her Barbies
"It's okay. Mommy's here."
As she kisses them and puts them to bed.
4. Kate is laying on the couch, hysterical because she is going to have to use the nubulizer.
David: "It's okay Kate. You are so brave. Remember in the doctors office. You can be brave again."
5. Getting into the car for school
Kate: David will you help me?
David: Yes Kate
He opens the door for her. I was in the foyer grabbing backpacks and coats.
I come out into the garage to find them both in the car.
Kate tells me David helped her get her leg up.
6. Sitting on the couch between David & Kate, who is hopped up on steroids at the time.
Kate: (leaning over me to talk to David) Mommy doesn't love you.
Me: I love you both Kate. You are both my babies.
Kate: (in a nasty voice) David looks like a baby.
growing pains
We came home from school today and David immediately walks in the door, takes off his coat, takes off his shoes, takes off his socks, takes off his pants, takes off his underwear. And, then puts on shorts.
Today he wanted to put a T-shirt on as well.
He was able to take his long sleeved shirt off and picked out a T-shirt from his drawer.
But, just couldn't seem to manage to get his shirt on the right way. The picture always ended up on his back.
He tried with a couple different shirts.
He would get so frustrated ...
the tears would start
He would ask for help. So, I tried helping him - showing him how by putting a t-shirt on as well, explaining what he had to do. But, he really didn't want my help.
He would get so frustrated ....
In the end he ended up with a T-shirt on, picture on the front. He came out of his room with it on and into the kitchen where I was sitting, my face lit up, words of praise ready. He read my expression and whimpered a "no mom." A hug was okay though.
I wanted so much to be able to help him this afternoon. Part of me just wanted to do it for him. He was so frustrated and so upset. I could have put the shirt on him. And, he kept asking me for help. But, he really didn't want it. He would go in his room and close the door to keep me out. And, come out with the tears welled up in his eyes when it was on backwards. Again.
The attempts and failures. (i just want to help).
I remember thinking of how big he was getting.
I remember thinking how hard it was to watch and not do.
But, he did it. All by himself.
Today he wanted to put a T-shirt on as well.
He was able to take his long sleeved shirt off and picked out a T-shirt from his drawer.
But, just couldn't seem to manage to get his shirt on the right way. The picture always ended up on his back.
He tried with a couple different shirts.
He would get so frustrated ...
the tears would start
He would ask for help. So, I tried helping him - showing him how by putting a t-shirt on as well, explaining what he had to do. But, he really didn't want my help.
He would get so frustrated ....
In the end he ended up with a T-shirt on, picture on the front. He came out of his room with it on and into the kitchen where I was sitting, my face lit up, words of praise ready. He read my expression and whimpered a "no mom." A hug was okay though.
I wanted so much to be able to help him this afternoon. Part of me just wanted to do it for him. He was so frustrated and so upset. I could have put the shirt on him. And, he kept asking me for help. But, he really didn't want it. He would go in his room and close the door to keep me out. And, come out with the tears welled up in his eyes when it was on backwards. Again.
The attempts and failures. (i just want to help).
I remember thinking of how big he was getting.
I remember thinking how hard it was to watch and not do.
But, he did it. All by himself.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
It was a good day
I can't seem to remember what my definition of a "good" day was before David & Kate.
I remember having good days, but somehow it all seems a bit silly.
The importance we put on "things" and "stuff" ...
Some days, in the current way of thinking, a good day consists of:
1. getting dressed
2. eating
Other ways, on other days, it might be an actual event ... sharing an ice cream with Kate, getting everyone to sleep and in bed without any fussing and fighting, playing light sabers with David.
If I can just manage to eek out that one moment during the day where I think in my head "this is what it's (whatever it is that "it" really is) all about, " I usually consider it a good day.
Almost every day, at some point, we talk about our favorite things that happened that day. I started having them occasionally draw a picture (Kate) or write a word (David) on an index card that we've made into a book to illustrate what it was that made that day good. Sometimes its the obvious ... someone came to play, a trip to the playground or library.
.... And, sometimes it's unexpected:
David drew a picture of a person with a light saber.
We didn't play light sabers that day.
He knows, he tells me. But, daddy told him tomorrow was Saturday and they could play light sabers outside because he would be home from work. And, the anticipation of the next day becomes his favorite thing.
And my good day.
I remember having good days, but somehow it all seems a bit silly.
The importance we put on "things" and "stuff" ...
Some days, in the current way of thinking, a good day consists of:
1. getting dressed
2. eating
Other ways, on other days, it might be an actual event ... sharing an ice cream with Kate, getting everyone to sleep and in bed without any fussing and fighting, playing light sabers with David.
If I can just manage to eek out that one moment during the day where I think in my head "this is what it's (whatever it is that "it" really is) all about, " I usually consider it a good day.
Almost every day, at some point, we talk about our favorite things that happened that day. I started having them occasionally draw a picture (Kate) or write a word (David) on an index card that we've made into a book to illustrate what it was that made that day good. Sometimes its the obvious ... someone came to play, a trip to the playground or library.
.... And, sometimes it's unexpected:
David drew a picture of a person with a light saber.
We didn't play light sabers that day.
He knows, he tells me. But, daddy told him tomorrow was Saturday and they could play light sabers outside because he would be home from work. And, the anticipation of the next day becomes his favorite thing.
And my good day.
Sunday, March 7, 2010
David the writer
Mike's mother, Sue, recently had a birthday.
The kids and I spent one morning trying to think of something we could make her as a gift.
Kate wanted to paint her a picture. "My think Grandma will love it."
David said, "Hey, I know. Grandma likes books. She reads me lots of books. I'll make her a book."
I wrote the words for him, but they were all his. Mike helped him with the illustrations. He was so excited about it. He hid it in a cabinet until Sue came for dinner.
The title: "My first book."
It went something like this:
Once upon a time there were a lot of Triceratops.
Then came a big T-Rex.
Then came a Spinosaurus.
Then came an Ankylosaurus.
Then came a Woolly Mammoth.
Then came a mouse.
They were a family.
It was a fantastic book.
The kids and I spent one morning trying to think of something we could make her as a gift.
Kate wanted to paint her a picture. "My think Grandma will love it."
David said, "Hey, I know. Grandma likes books. She reads me lots of books. I'll make her a book."
I wrote the words for him, but they were all his. Mike helped him with the illustrations. He was so excited about it. He hid it in a cabinet until Sue came for dinner.
The title: "My first book."
It went something like this:
Once upon a time there were a lot of Triceratops.
Then came a big T-Rex.
Then came a Spinosaurus.
Then came an Ankylosaurus.
Then came a Woolly Mammoth.
Then came a mouse.
They were a family.
It was a fantastic book.
Carry you around
You are distracting me from all other activity and I know that your presence will dominate my memory (Ani Difraco - Carry you around)
I think sometimes as a parent, I tend to dwell on the negative. Or at least seem to dwell on the negative.
I would be a liar to say that every day is easy.
Most days are long and tiring, usually with some sort of a challenge.
David doesn't want to school. Kate doesn't want to get dressed. No one wants to eat. No one wants to go to bed.
And I think that comes out sometimes in my writing and conversations, the frustration of a long day, mostly because of the need to release some of that frustration, get ideas from other parents.
That emotion though is not what I carry around.
David and Kate have their bedrooms on the first floor of our home, ours is on the second. At night, I put a gate up in the hallway and a monitor on. The other morning, over the monitor I heard Kate go in to Davids room and wake him up:
Kate: Wake up David
David: Hi Kate
Kate: My love you David
David: You too Kate
Kate: We are best friends
David: Yes. Mommy too. Lets go wake her up.
(Two children appear from bedroom on left, a 4 year old boy and 2 year old girl, dressed in pajamas. First the older child tries shaking the gate, the younger repeats the action. Working together they realize they can push down the gate and escape.)
It's those sort of moments that dominate my memory. That I carry around.
I think sometimes as a parent, I tend to dwell on the negative. Or at least seem to dwell on the negative.
I would be a liar to say that every day is easy.
Most days are long and tiring, usually with some sort of a challenge.
David doesn't want to school. Kate doesn't want to get dressed. No one wants to eat. No one wants to go to bed.
And I think that comes out sometimes in my writing and conversations, the frustration of a long day, mostly because of the need to release some of that frustration, get ideas from other parents.
That emotion though is not what I carry around.
David and Kate have their bedrooms on the first floor of our home, ours is on the second. At night, I put a gate up in the hallway and a monitor on. The other morning, over the monitor I heard Kate go in to Davids room and wake him up:
Kate: Wake up David
David: Hi Kate
Kate: My love you David
David: You too Kate
Kate: We are best friends
David: Yes. Mommy too. Lets go wake her up.
(Two children appear from bedroom on left, a 4 year old boy and 2 year old girl, dressed in pajamas. First the older child tries shaking the gate, the younger repeats the action. Working together they realize they can push down the gate and escape.)
It's those sort of moments that dominate my memory. That I carry around.
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