still in the age of innocence

Last week,  during the height of the riots, we pulled down the blinds in the group room for the first time. We also hastily hung up some temporary Ikea blinds that I've had for years, the accordion kind you tape to the ceiling, in the yoga room. We didn't have enough of them so we had to use a cotton candy pink fleece throw blanket to cover up one window. In the meantime, we put our cans in the garage along with the flammables, the tools. Even closing the bathroom window did little to block out the sirens. All night long the cars ignored the curfew, a steady stream, some unlicensed, down our semi busy street.

We watched comedies to distract. And when the boy went downstairs to fetch something, noting all the new window coverings, he said, "What's with the yoga room? Are we redecorating or something?"

"Why, yes. Yes, yes, we are."

Whoever loses the most keys wins

Jude got a gift certificate for Games by James, which we're planning on using tomorrow at MOA.

I call him at Dada's. "where is it?" I want to put it in my purse before I forget.

"In the box of presents on my desk." Yes, my kid got a box of presents for his 12th, an above average kill for his annual birthday outing to the Malt Shop.

"Do you want me to grab it for tomorrow? We can go to MOA after I pick you up..."

"well..."

What? Why not? What's the hesitation?

"Okay, but don't lose it," he says.

Me? Your mother? Lose it? I'm the keeper of things.

"Yeah, but you lost your keys," he says.

"That was one time, honey. And I didn't lose them: I just left them in Dada's car!" I don't remind him how many things Dada and TCF and Granny lose in one day and that I pride myself on my OCD. And I don't remind him that the reason I left them in Dada's car was because everyone was screaming at me to "hurry up and come on, and get out, Mama!" Or how many things I had to carry.

"I won't lose it, Jude."But he must sense some doubt. And it's true; I have been a little scattered these days. Last xmas I lost my hat at the antique shop. Sometimes I leave the packed snacks at home on the counter. But compared to the crew, I generally...

"Hmmmm...."

"Listen!" I say, "I never lose things! Of all the people in your life, I'm the one who never loses things the most."

Er...

Sibling Rivalry

Everyone here is vying for the kitten's attention. It's a circus. Who are we people?

"Mama, who's cuter me or Lola?"

Who do you think?

Who? Just tell me?

Depends on the day...

Mama! Really?

You honey. You know that.

Okay... who's cuter: Me, Lola, or Louie (his highness the bunny, Louisiana Bellevue over at Dada's)?

Hmmm....

Who Mama? Tell me... in order of first second, third...

Jude!

Just tell me!

Okay... well... you're first, Lola's second, and Louie's third....

"Louie's third??? Really?"

Sorry honey... you know who I feel about Lola...

But I'm first, right?

Yes honey.

"Here's my order: Louie first, Lola second, Mama third..."

Fight Logic

About a month ago when Granny was in town, things got pretty messy one night between me and TCF. Like most couples, we occasionally fight, but we try not to raise our voices on account on the boy.

Well we did. And out of his bedroom he came. "What the hell's going on out here?"

"Oh nothing honey. Go back to bed..."   When I checked on him when things calmed down a bit,  he was asleep so I woke him up. "Are you asleep?"

Sort of.

Are you okay?

Yes.

Are you upset?

No.

Are you scared?

No. But what the hell happened anyway?

Nothing honey. Everything's okay. We just got too loud...sorry about that. But everything is okay. Okay? Now go nightnight.


Of course the next day we had to process, explain that sometimes even adults who love each other very much get angry at each other and raise their voices and say hurtful things. It's not right and you shouldn't have heard all that and it won't happen again--not like that anyway.

"Well, what happened exactly anyway?"

Well... nothing you have to worry about. Sometimes adults just loose their cool and yell. We're very sorry.

Later TCF sat him down and apologized for all the yelling, had the same talk as we'd had earlier. And he had the same retort: "What happened anyway?"

"Well," TCF confessed, "I just got really mad at your mom."

"Oh," he said. "I thought you were yelling at Granny."

Hollywood Insight

Watching Home Alone

1. "Wow. That kid is making bad choices."

2." Jesus Mary. If you ate that much ice cream you'd become like diabetic or something."

What are they teaching him in school anyway? Doesn't anyone get in trouble anymore?


Watching Rocky

We didn't get too far. We did okay with Karate Kid so I thought we'd give Rocky a chance until we got to the steamy scene in Rocky's doorway with Yo Adrienne. By the time they fell to the floor, he was leaning in real close to the set so I thought I'd better send him to bed. "Besides," I said, "you don't want to see all this lovey stuff anyway..."

"I don't mind it."

"Shall I compare thee...?" 2

As always, he is all over Granny when she is in town. They are inseparable.  He is tactilely  fascinated with all her bags, make up, overly stuffed human sized suitcase. He likes to touch her skin, inquire about the "many chins."

Hey Granny!

Yes, dolly?

Why does your hair feel stale?

Is he grumpy?

The other night watching the Christmas Carol movie, new to us, I comment on what a bad ass Scrooge is. Dang.

"Is he grumpy?" I ask Jude, not taking my eyes off the set; it's a good movie and I want Jude to attune to inferences, as brilliantly suggested by his fourth grade teacher.

"What am I, six?" 

shall I compare thee...?

"Mama, your hair looks like a dandelion."

"It does? Ah, thanks honey. That's very poetic of you!"  I don't often pride myself on my frizzy hair. "That's called a metaph—"

"Yeah, like when it's dying and about to blow away. With all those white and brown parts."

Thanks Jude.  

when a man gets down on one knee

Eating out after a splendid day of hiking the big dune on the Atlantic in France. 

The waiter got down on one knee to listen closer to CC as she complained about the lobster. Of course she was giggling a  little. And of course, he was young and handsome.

Mama, why is the waiter down on his knee and talking to CC like that?

Oh I don't know honey. To hear her better i think.

Is he making an engagement with her?

The trouble with you Buddhists...

A week at the lovely Plum Village in France. You weren't sure who Thich Nhat Hahn was, but when you saw his face all over the place, you smiled with glee and uttered with affection, as though meeting a kindred spirit: "monkey."

Nice for all of us to get loved up by the Sisters while attempting to practice mindfulness.

When neither of us adults could figure out how to get the industrial sized tp roll onto the holder (oh how we tried to yank the holder off the wall of our little cabin bathroom, but we could not figure it out to save our mindful minds), we defaulted to you, oh king of the Legos. In you walked to the bathroom, took one look at the thing and pulled it out on the first try. You even figured out how to insert the roll quicker than we could.

"The problem with you Buddhists Brothers and Sisters," you said, "is you're too darn gentle with everything."

at the bus stop a May morning after seeing a bunny

Now we love anything bunnies. They're our new cats, though we go nuts for them too. But ever since you got Louie rabbit, "my son," you claim, you're over the moon.

"guess what mama?"

what honey?

Rabbits are actually Rabbis.

Oh yeah?

Yeah.

Cool.

Yeah, rabbits are rabbis.

And what are rabbis again, Jude?

I don't remember.

Jude.

Oh yeah: aren't they those guys who wear glasses and read out of big books on special holidays at church and stuff?


oy.

"okay honey..."

Lately you are calling everyone honey. You're like Midori the parrot in San Diego. You say what you hear. You've been hearing me call you honey for so long, now it's "Okay Honey..." to just about everyone.

Noah and I are laughing still about being in San D and you saying goodnight to all the cousins, and then, to me, out in the living room, reminding me to tuck you in for final night night, you go, "See you in bed, honey!"

Well. That too some explaining to the cousins.

And of course, lately in piano... and I keep forgetting to remind you that "honey" is only for... well... family. But you keep on keeping on in piano lessons. Teacher J tells you to play this or that or try this or that and after a few "No!"s you finally aquiescce with a booming "okay honey..." in that little drawl you've taken in from somewhere.

You saw me bite my lip to keep from laughing last Tuesday.



Oh, honey... you are all the good nectar of every honey berry sunshine there is.

do you want toast, Mama?

Sure, honey! Thanks!

Do you wanted it toasted?

<3

The truth about apartment dwellers

Upon realizing Noah does not own his apartment : "so you're basically homeless then?"

if you happen to find this

Thank you for a beautiful, perfect, spring break, sunny blue sky day, my dear dear rabbit child. I think the zoo has become our thing, don't you? And I think this goes down as one of our best days together, don't you? Zoo days and altogether days.

I know you sometime stumble on this blog for a little leisure reading while surfing at Barton. Mostly you forget about it and live your life so I can (occasionally) write about it; were it I had more time, you'd be reading daily. Mostly things I want to remember because, gosh, you can only hold so much sweetness and love in memory and word form. It  lives in the body regardless, as you can see in the way I kvell over you and the things you say. But just so you know, I write these things so we can look back and remember. Not for anyone else (though they are welcome, since many mamas of boys must share some of what we do (just like we share much with Mama T and Rex). In any case, hello. It's mama. You might skip this one til you're a bit older since it might have some bigger words or hard to understand things or maybe just things that are boring. Why all these words? I just felt like writing to you tonight, Fee, to tell you how much I loved our day. Thank you for taking me to the zoo.

What I hope to remember from today: the lashes of that young cow with the same reddish blondish brownish hair as yours, the pink of her tongue, her little teeth, and all of this working together to form an anthropomorphic smile. Thank you for letting me return to see her again and again today. A fair trade for the visit to see the bunnies, yes? How happy you were to just get a reach in to feel their long fur. Sophie. And the other one...you liked her best, the one that looked like Elton and CC, our beloveds who live on in all creatures and in us.

"What's that thing they put in a needle and put in an animal to make it go to freedom?" you more or less asked me today because you're reading Wonder, which has a part about having to put their dog to sleep since she got sick, you explained. When you asked me I flashed back on so many things: first, the reference to freedom, remembering that day, oddly warm in February when we walked on the ice and you stood atop the lifeguard tower at Lake Calhoun and offered prayers to Numgum, your sweet cherry Beta who had died that weekend; your prayers were other worldly, nothing you learned from me or Dada. It scared me as much as it did move me; who was this bird bowing repeatedly to the frozen lake, in repetitive duty, something no doubt you saw on tv or in a movie, but also something that came from some other somewhere that is not of you and me and Dada or even this lifetime. That something spirit that is uniquely you, that runs through you and always will, following that energetic lifeline from (where?) ever it came and will go. I also thought of CC, too, of course, and so did you. I flashed on the night you and Dada went to the vet and I was miles and miles away on the shores of Lake Superior and it was raining and storming. "Well, she's gone," Dada texted.  And I couldn't stop crying into that lake and that lake was my tears, my storm, my too many years unlet sorrow. But that has to do with grief, a good thing, something we can talk about much later. So you can skip this part.

And now it is late and I've gone off track. That's what happens when you write: you know that now Fee. Keep writing that amazing story with the characters with the cool names! Have fun with them as they travel and discover and love.

For that matter, Fee, you must know that whenever you say to me "hug! GIve me a hug! I want a hug!" I want you to know that I want to hug you back as long as long can be. I love our hugs and your need for sensory input and love. Even in the middle of the crowded farm babies exhibit. So even when I say, not now Jude, or don't pull it hurts my back, etc, etc, I still want to hug you because what is really more important? I am sorry that grown up things like bad backs and timelines get in the way of that because hugs are way more important.

And for that matter,

And I love when you put your  little hand in mind (so small)
For all too soon I won't be able to hold it at all
And when I am much much older, I shall put my little hand in yours (so small)
...

As we walked to the car, a lone black CRV parked far in the distance. "Awww," you said, "for some reason looking at that car makes me feel sad."

You know why? I said.

Why?

Because you have empathy. You can imagine feeling what the car is feeling. You feel for it. That's great.

Actually I can imagine feeling what the driver's feeling.

Ya, right, honey, I aquiesce, relinquishing my hope that you too feel for inanimate objects. But you do a little, don't you JJ?

Also, please stop growing now. Just stop.

Thanks for waiting so long to get your haircut and not once complaining even when I did. Sorry. You are teaching me more than I you on some days.

Thanks for putting the groceries on the belt thing while I ran for jelly and then bagging them up. You did it perfect.

Nice Frech lesson while out to dinner at Mexican place. I think it impresses you just a tad how much Spanish I spoke to the waiter. Well.. you just wanted to know what we were saying.

By the way, thanks for not reading that awful US magazine when I told you not to. Total trash honey, trust me.

OH, and... I really have no idea to respond when you hold up a bottle of hair spray that says Totally Wild Sexy Hair with that funny grin on your face, trying to get me to react. What can I say, honey?

There is more, so much more honey. But now I must go night night. Love you so much, mama

Full Moon at the Bus stop

"Imagine if the moon were where that cloud is...it would be really windy"

Mmmmmmm....

Imagine if it was right where that airplane is....the waves would be insane...

Mmmmm...

The waves would be really big. Like from the ocean...

Oh yeah, you're learning all about the moon and stuff...

"Yeah and imagine if it was right at the top of that house...things would be pretty crazy "

"Wow... it'd be real wavy..."

"Yeah and imagine if it were just right here in front of us..."

I imagine it. "Wow."

"Yes," he says, reading my mind, "things would just be completely out of hand."

at the bus stop the first cold day

Trying to read the very small print on the zipper on my winter jacket, "What's Calvin Clean?"

dinner time

Jude, can you set the table please?

"What is this, the palace?"

Jude.

"Okay..."

And lower the lights a little, please. It's too bright.

"Lower the lights? What is this,  a date?"

moon phases

We're learning about the moon now. Craning to find it above the giant billboards or under the day sky, circling the block, swearing it was just here last night... now where'd it go? How can it be gone? We've misplaced it.

What's that called again, I ask? A gibbon?

Gibbous, Mama.

Oh yeah. Tell me again about the crescent phase...

He does. And very well at that.

So that's the last phase of the moon, I ask?

There's no first or last, Mama. It just keeps going.








Woe.

upon seeing a kitty cat on a leash this evening while we were biking home from the creek

Oh my god!
Oh my god!
Ooooooooooooooooooooooooh!
Mama! We gotta get a kitty!
I know!

and this morning walking to the bus, passing a discarded black tennis shoe, that from a distance, we both thought was a kitty curled up sleeping on the sidewalk:

Jude, don't you wish we could have ears coming out of the top of our heads like cats and dogs?
Mama! But those are only ornamental. You can't really hear out of those ears!




What?


^^@