Rekindled

I confess that I might be in love with my Kindle Fire.

A little TOO in love with it.... as I spend quite a bit of time either reading, catching up on Facebook (see what you are missing Aunty E.), and ahem, playing Angry Birds and Plants vs. Zombies. ( WHY is lobbing birds/plants at bad guys so addicting)? I've decided I'm a glutton for punishment as a certain fellow blogger keeps kicking my butt at Words with Friends. Just when I think I'm at least in a game, she plays a 70-point word!

The downside might be too much "wasted" time, but the upside is more reading! I can't put my finger on exactly why, but the Kindle has increased my reading pace tremendously. Maybe it is the easy access of having a virtual library that I can toss in my bag in the morning, then pull it out and pick the book that suits me while I'm waiting for guitar/dance/horseback riding to finish, so that I'm reading at times and in places I have not been? Finally finishing up The Hunger Games trilogy, re-reading some favorites and getting new recommendations (Bereft and To Be Sung Underwater) thanks to Mary's brilliant idea to start a "Recent Reads" group on FB. I don't have the time or money to waste on mediocre books, so having a recommendation list is wonderful.

As much as I truly, deeply, for always and ever love my Kindle, I am discovering that I need to limit my use. Too much intake and not enough output. Hopefully I can maintain the reading renaissance and back off of the more mindless entertainments available in this tiny rectangle of happiness. I really would like to return to more regular blogging and blog reading, gardening, etc.

But in the meantime, did I mention that Kindle and I are madly in love?

Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch

You know it's time for a facial wax when you glance in the rearview mirror and wonder for just a second why, when you aren't driving a red ferrari, Magnum P.I. is behind the wheel of your car. Brow/upper lip maintenance needed. Yuck head cold equals sleepless nights equals dark shadows that don't at all look like the "smoky eye" I'm trying to pull off. I just look tired and sick. But even when Mom is down, life goes on.

The boy, who has turned 11 this week, has decided that he doesn't want the annual birthday party EVENT (okay it's hotdogs, chips, fruit, cake and ice cream and lots of running around staging sword fights boy mayhem). Instead he would like a trip to Savannah to visit the toy store. At the ripe old age of 11, he has never been to a store that exclusively sells toys. But can I just say that I'm a bit lost not preparing for the usual party festivities? It was also my opportunity for grown up conversation with my favorite fellow moms of children of a like age and now I have to wait at least another month before one of our favorite families invites us to their child's party before I can indulge in mom chat.

I like to think I'm coping well with the fact that my oldest child is becoming a tweenager and that my youngest is seven going on seventeen. I confess that while I've had to let go of the smocked dresses with bloomers, the Thomas the Tank Engine trains have been packed away and Dora yogurt is no longer on my grocery list, there is one thing I've struggled to leave behind. Those sweet little baby washcloths are still in the basket next to their tub. They've been washed so many times they aren't much more substantial than tissue paper, but I still can't bring myself to throw them out. I've rationalized that they are the perfect size for getting behind small ears and between toes, but I know I'm in denial. As long as those worn little scraps sit in that basket, my babies they will be.

Nose-talgia?

A little boy who was in Abby's class suffered a severe brain injury last month. He is on the road to recovery. One of the therapies they are using with him is to introduce familiar smells to stimulate brain activity. Smell is closely tied to memory. Few things can stimulate recall like familiar scents.

Several weeks ago I attended a parent-teacher conference at school. The smell of chicken and hot dish soap instantly conjured images of orange lunch trays, cardboard milk cartons and lunch ladies garbed in plastic aprons, gloves and hairnets. I can see myself standing in line, waiting for tired women to slap a spoonful of chicken and dumplings, overcooked green beans, a brilliant orange yam and a slice of peanut butter cake on my tray. It seems like no matter what is being prepared in the lunchroom, it always smells like chicken to me!

A whiff of honeysuckle in late May and I am riding my bike, barefoot, around the block... drawn by the sweet smell to stop, pick a few flowers and collect the drops of "honey" clinging to the ends of the stems. I can feel the warm breeze, hear the whine of mosquitos and taste the dewy sweetness as clearly as if I had climbed into a time machine and whisked back through the decades to a spring day in 1985.

The scent of Irish Spring soap reminds of baths in the claw-footed tub at Grandmother Hall's. The gleam of sunlight through homemade curtains, the feel of the bristles of a nail brush under my nails, the creak of floorboards as Grandmother brought in a fresh towel and a bottle of Jergen's lotion for after the bath.

Chimney smoke wafts by and I can see my dad adding another piece of wood to the wood burning heater while my mother sits so close to the warmth she is almost IN the fireplace, reading a book. A patchwork blanket wrapped over her and her glasses perched either on her nose or on top of her head. The squeaks of the rocking chair as she rocks and reads. Oblivious to anything outside the pages of that book. The warmth, the noises, the images are so vivid they are almost touchable. As clear as a photograph.

So perhaps nostalgia is all in the nose?

New

Ahhhhhh. Now that is the ultimate in relaxed isn't it?

This year, 2011, I've found myself feeling like an acrobat trying to stay on top of a rolling ball. Struggling to keep up instead of being out in front. Thus the terrible inconsistency with blogging. My head has been an unorganized, chaotic mess. I'm hoping that 2012 will be the year I get ahead of the game and stay there. To that end, I took a week of vacation time to chill and recharge. A nice way to close out the year. A nice way to begin a new year. I hope my year has many moments that convey the same oblivious to the outside world that the picture of Abby sparks in my soul.

Rob and I sat down today and worked on a plan to make the most of our time and energy this year. On Sunday evenings, we'll sit down together to discuss what the upcoming week will bring, who will be taking the kids to this or that, how can we each fit in time for ourselves to workout, read, write, blog and time for us as a couple and as a family. I know it isn't for everyone, but Rob, J.T. and I all function more efficiently and calmly when we know what to expect. Abby of course, is up for whatever adventure comes her way. She is certainly good at providing adventure!

We want to eat out less and exercise more. The idea is to plan our grocery shopping so that we don't use an empty pantry as an excuse to stop for easy, unhealthy food. The kids will be outside for at least an hour in the afternoons and will be e-free on weekdays.... no video games, tv, or computer time (unless necessary for school).

One big item on the list is to get the kids on a more consistent schedule with pitching in with chores and jobs around the house. We are hit and miss with this. I'm a big believer in every family member being responsible for making things work. We are a family and we all need to contribute to making our household work.

The kid list includes:

• Laundry - clothes in the dirty hamper, to the washer, clean clothes back in your drawer/closet.
• Dishes - unload and reload the dishwasher and take your plates/cups to the sink when you finish eating.
• Toys - put your things away, no matter where they migrate, return them to their homes please.
• Recycling - sort the recyclables at home and help place in proper bins at the recycling center.
• Bob duty - feed, water and exercise the dog.

Of course, I must begin my year by getting caught up with all of you, dear friends!

Simple Gifts

The things that made me happy today.


Warm brownies and cold milk.

Ten minutes of lazy waking up after the alarm went off.

"Hey, Mom! The tooth fairy left me $5!"

Little bits of cotton fluff scattered on the roadsides.

A seven year old girl in a purple tutu.

Japanese for lunch.

New Lipstick.

Pumpkin spice candles.

Empty laundry baskets.

Mix-tapes: Band of Horses, the Dittybops, Bruce Springsteen, Sally Seltmann.

Sunshine and Autumn leaves and giant bales of hay.

Fall

And I don't just mean the season. I feel a bit like Alice down the rabbit hole lately. Chasing reality.

J.T. has come home with some interesting homework assignments lately. One of which was to write massive numbers (58,784,232,085) in expanded form using exponents. I had to google it. It took forever and frankly I'm not sure I understand it yet. I may never understand the purpose of it. The ridiculous demands of our current school curriculum are driving me crazy. Normally I'm not a one of those who worries excessively about the future, but if all we are focusing on dumb things that have no real life application, will we be surprised when the ability to think outside the box and be creative wanes?

I've just realized that this is J.T.'s last year of elementary school. My oldest child will be in middle school next year. He's still very much a "kid" to me. He looks like a kid, has a pile of lego and action figures under his bed and has to be reminded to brush his teeth, but the tween years loom. He needs deodorant now (and yes I have to remind him about that too). For now, he's on the fence about Santa, but has figured out the tooth fairy. He WANTS to believe in the jolly guy from the North Pole, is clinging to it, but has grave doubts. His confidence is growing. Last night, he won 3rd place in the Halloween costume contest at the park with his take on Scarecrow from the Batman movies. He and Rob, who gets all the credit for costume design, were thrilled.

Abby was less than thrilled. "You said this was just for fun," she said, lady bug arms crossed and one black ladybug foot tapping impatiently. If HER confidence grows anymore, we're in trouble. As J.T. put it: "I'm thinking about making a comic strip about our family. Abby, the unstoppable force, meets the immovable object, Dad watching football."

Dear Bob

(the not such a) wonder dog,

Night time is for sleeping. Even for not quite one year old dogs. The cows are well, uncowed, by your barking and howling and carrying on. A cow's gotta "mooooooooooooooooooooo", you know? So if you could SHUT IT DOWN with the 12 a.m. racketfest, I would appreciate it very much.

Also, the flowerpot is not your enemy. There is no agenda there. It just wants to sit on the porch and be pretty. A simple vessel for containing something floral in nature. Okay? It doesn't want to fight you! If you knock it into the wall, it will come out fighting. You WILL get tangled up in it, despite the fact that this would seem to defy the laws of physics. So can we call a truce with the flowerpot already? Please?

Last, but not least, no more inviting your friends over while we're away. No breaking into the trash can and scattering leftover party goods about the place. You're already grounded for the rest of the year, so if you expect Santa to leave even the tiniest treat for you at Christmas, you really need to tell the beagle to stay home. You lie down with dogs.... well. I think you know where I'm going with this.

P.S. Sidewalk chalk is not for eating. I like rainbows as much as the next person, but I don't want one on the grass.

Love,
Mom (the person who is in charge of feeding you)