Monday, March 30, 2015

Last Time


I kiss your nose, your forehead, your cheek, your chin.

I squeeze you tightly to me and feel your soft squishiness give.

I look in your eyes and you look back at me and in my heart I feel a tugging ache I cannot fully define.

I ache because you are my baby, mine to squeeze and squish.

I ache because in this predawn darkness under the blankets we form a cocoon and every day you are closer to emerging out of it into the world.

I ache because every morning you wake up you are my baby, but every morning you are a little less my baby and a little more your own self.

I ache and I ache and I laugh at the joy it makes me feel to hurt this way.

You look at me laughing and it makes you laugh too.

It seems that this might have been your last time nursing.  It felt that way, how you kept your body unusually still as if you, too, were savoring the moment.  Your legs were carefully curled up, tucked tightly next to mine, your little hand free and tapping gently on my chest, just above my heart.

No one told me that hurting like this could feel so good.

I wonder if I would have believed them.

I'm a believer now.

Monday, March 23, 2015

PhDevin

Last night as I was talking with my sister the topic of all the junk that sits on our computers for years that we don't really know what to do with but we never look at and where did most of it come from anyway?

She emailed me a few items that she had on her computer that she thought I would find interesting, and she had some real classics.  I was really happy to see this one resurface, I don't think I even have it saved, having gone through so many computer hard drive crashes over the years. I really need to figure out some way to back up my system so that I can save all the random junk that collects on a computer over the years. Because you know, as you look back on it, some of that junk is pretty priceless.


"PhDevin"

Devin is a person
Who speaks in weighty terms,
He puts the Cossack curse on
Bacteria and germs.

In mystic laboratories,
With tubes, retorts, and sinks
He wins undying glories
By making stunning stinks.

Some newly figured datum
He uses to disclose
The secrets of the atom,
The ways of cellulose.

He can make soup from syrup,
Perfume from mutton fat;
His job's to sit and stir up
Synthetic-this and that,

When he, in finest frenzy,
Makes something sour and green,
He calls it Parabenzy-
-disulphoethylene.

Of Chemistry my knowledge
Is but a hollow shell;
I took the course at college,
But only learned one smell.

I believe my mother wrote this. Good one, mom! 
She had a little help, it seems.  
-->
* Adapted from the poem "As to Chemists" by Stoddard King, in his book of poems, Listen to the Mocking Bird, published in 1928, given to Alice H. Smith for Christmas 1928.

Sunday, March 22, 2015

Testing? Testing.

My sister has been working with me, helping me edit my most recent NaNo novel and getting it more polished up.  She encouraged me to set up my goodreads account as an author, and so I did.

It's weirdly exciting to be acknowledged by Goodreads as an author.

This is a test to see if my blog, and this post in particular, will be automatically imported to that website.

I'm so cool.

Friday, March 20, 2015

The Man On The Moon Dances with Blue Horses

Here are a few of our little stories from this week.

Two or three (or more) nights out of the week Heather gets out of her bed and crawls into "mother's bed", as she calls it.  It doesn't bother me, as long as she is quiet and falling asleep I am happy with it.

Tonight as I tucked her in to "mother's bed" I realized that our curtains were still wide open, and the full moon was shining brightly down, it's light landing gently right on my pillow.  I knew it would keep me awake, so I asked her if she wanted me to close the curtains, or if she wanted to fall asleep looking at the moon.

She whispered back at me, "Looking at the moon, mother."

I kissed her forehead and said, "ok, the moon will watch you sleep and keep you safe."

She turned away from the moon to look at me, "Who will watch me sleep, mother?"

"Well, the man in the moon of course," I answered her, wondering how old I was the first time someone told me about the man in the moon.

Heather lay quietly for just a second, and then, "Oh, Jesus."


A few days ago I asked Hallie what she did in science class that day.  She told me that they had each chosen a book to read about an animal, then they drew pictures of the animal, and then they got to give a short presentation telling what they had learned about their animal.

"Oh, that sounds fun.  What animal did you choose, Hallie?" I asked her.

"I chose the polar bear.  And then I was one of the kids that got to tell about it.  But they said it looked like a blue horse."

"Mr. Graham said your polar bear looked like a horse?"

"No, one of the kids said it did. But it was really a polar bear, mom."

I nodded my head and didn't think much more about the whole thing until we got home and I was tidying up the counter in the kitchen, you know that place where every single thing that ever comes into your home gets dumped?

And there it was, and I couldn't help but laugh. Just a tiny little bit, and I made sure no one was around first. Then of course I took a picture to show you.


Hallie's Polar Bear That Is Obviously Not A Blue Horse

She Calls Me Mother

Heather has taken to calling me mother, lately.  I like it.

We drove down to Texas to visit my Grandmother who will celebrate her 95th birthday soon, and to see some other family and friends.  We stayed at my Aunt Cathy and Uncle Larry's house, even though they were in Tennessee visiting Uncle Geoff at his place there.  I did get to see my cousin Brian who popped in at the tail end of our visit, so that was nice.

I never did make a phone call to Heidi, one of those things that I was perpetually going to do in five minutes as soon as this shoe was tied or that doll was found or that sandwich was made or this nose was wiped or what is it that eats up my five minutes I don't know but then suddenly they were gone and I never called her to see if we could get together and I'm really sorry about that, Heidi.  It isn't even my kids' fault with all their demands, it's mine because I can't keep track of what I am doing past all the distractions.

We also got to visit with my girl Al and hang out with her, and we got to visit Kristy and Chris and meet their hilarious little girls.  I hope to have pictures of those trips, someday. Maybe soon?

I also began working on the movie for Sarah J's birthday that I mentioned, so that is really something to look forward to.

Every day I sit down with Hazel and I look deep into her eyes and I say clearly enunciating the word, "Ma-ma". And she stares at me and she smiles and she drools and then she stands up and walks off to go see what sisters are doing and so even though I am pretty sure she says "dada" and even a mashed up version of "sisters" - sounds kind of like "de-s-ders!" She has yet to say "mama."

I'm resigned to it. By the time she starts really talking she will probably just call me "mother" anyway.

Good thing I'm used to it, yeah?

Monday, March 2, 2015

The Big Experiment

Yesterday, March 1 we started a big family food experiment.  For the entire month of March we aren't going to go to the grocery store, at all.  We are going to eat what is in our fridge, and freezer, what is in our cupboards and on our shelves for food storage.  We are going to keep records of what we have eaten, and what we wished we had more of at the end of the month.

The girls weren't terribly excited about our plan, Hallie is very sad that the milk will run out and we will have to drink powdered milk, or no milk at all.  But we are excited to see where the gaps are in our food storage, and how long we can actually survive on what we have, and make plans to improve the food we have stored.

Because you just never know, and it will be nice to know.  When March is over we will know.

Updates to come, I'm sure as we get into this thing and start figuring it out.  And suffering because the milk ran out.