Keeping it real

When parents were divvied up and kids assigned to families, I think my friend Bridget's kids got a pretty good deal. It seems to me, from my (admittedly distant) view on the other side of the country, Bridget has a great approach. Her letter this week sums up her philosophy: keep it real. Tell stories. Laugh. Let your kids know that you were one, too, once. Check it out here.

Creationism

I remember the first year that I (well, we) served as Santa for our little family, our distant east coast outpost celebration so far from the rest of our clan. Up until then--even as a married couple--I had gone to bed at a certain point so I didn't have to see Santa do his work. I just didn't want to see behind that curtain, even though I knew what was there.

So that first year was both thrilling and, well, a little empty. I was used to being a consumer of the magic. Not the magic creator. It was daunting and humbling. I realized just how much my own parents had done through the years to create that magic that I hungrily lapped up.

I'm feeling that all over again, the distinct difference between consuming and creating.

Over the last few weeks, I've been working on writing down some stories that have been swirling around my head. Now, I've always been a reader. I love to get immersed in a great book, to be on the receiving end of that literary magic. But. I'm newly daunted by the creation of that magic, suddenly humbled and appreciative of all of those manymany thousands of pages I have gobbled up. On one level I knew it was work. Now I know it on another level. I want to write to each of the authors or visit them and bow at their feet and apologize for how lightly I took their seeming effortlessness.

So I pull out my favorites, hoping their magic touch of dialogue~setting~characters~details will seep through their pages to my fingertips and out to my own writing. Thank you Harper Lee, Justin Cronin, Susan Minot, Wallace Stegner, Anne Lamott, Kent Haruf, and others for being my pantheon of writing gods. I aspire to your magic and I'll probably never get there.

* * *

Speaking of creation, I've been wanting to share a few artists that I've been admiring lately.

Photographer Julie Blackmon

photos via her website

* * *
Painter Paul Ferney

paintings via his website
* * *
Painter Nathan Florence
(& disclosure: he's my second cousin)

paintings via his website
* * *
Painter Claerwen James

images via Flowers East Gallery

I think if I could go back and ask for a talent, I would hurry over to the painting line. Or the broadway singing one.

Sometimes you've gotta go with the red shoes

When Maddy saw these shoes a few months ago, she knew she had to have them, that her personal style sensibility rested solely on owning those shoes.
"Please can I get them? They're so....sophisticated Dorothy."

Today was the first day (of several) of the statewide testing for 6th graders, called the MCAS here in Massachusetts. It includes multiple choice and essay questions in many different subjects. Maddy, my dear daughter, is a worrier. Statewide tests are fertile fodder (hmmm...can fodder be fertile? it's nice and alliterative) for her worrisome ways. She made all sorts of plans: extra sleep, the right breakfast, you get the picture. Of course I asked about it the minute she came home...

How was the test today?
Great! I wore my sophisticated Dorothy shoes and they pulled me through.
Really?
Yep, every time I looked at them, I just thought there's no place like home, there's no place like home.

I completely understand.
What are your red shoes equivalent?

Providence was heavenly

We had a grand time. Amazing what a couple of days away will do to clear your mind and reshuffle your thoughts so that the things that really matter are on top.

Favorite moments: stumbling upon the storefront for a fantastic puppet workshop, belly laughing together during the Globetrotters, discovering & exploring a mysterious huge nest sculpture at Brown University, just walking around, and having deep and memorable conversations at restaurants with our own kids.

If you are one of the few people who want to know more or to see your grandkids more up close, you can click the links below:

1. cool ironwork, 2. chair dancing, 3. Downcity street, 4. I like these people, 5. Fam Damily,6. Carrot gone crazy, 7. Brown University quad, 8. Biltmore in Providence, 9. love these phone booths, 10. Tiled station, 11. Puppet workshop, 12. Pool roof, 13. Street of my dreams, 14. M in the nest sculpture, 15. Sam digs the pool,16. Sam & owl puppet, 17. Blurry breakfast, 18. she takes after me, 19. Improvising, 20. Cool twig sculpture,21. Contrasts, 22. beautiful view from hotel room, 23. Art is everywhere, 24. tiled columns, 25. M in euro cafe

I hope you had a beautiful Easter weekend. If you're wondering what to do with all the leftover peeps (yeah, right!) here are a few ideas. I'm glad I live in a world where people make dioramas from peeps. Here's another interpretation (thanks Dayna):

Let's make like a banana and split

We're off on a little family adventure this weekend. The kids have Friday off and Greg's starting to feel the slightest bit trunky during these last few weeks at his current job before the move to another company.* This morning we found a great deal for a couple of nights at a hotel in Providence (I know! how spontaneous, don't you think? Another new year's resolution enhancing our somewhat winterblah lives). We love Providence--it's got a great feel with the Rhode Island School of Design, the zoo, Brown University, nearby Newport, and great walking along the river.

And THEN the cherry on top of the weekend sundae, we found out that (cue Sweet Georgia Brown whistling) the Harlem Globetrotters are playing there on Saturday. We are so there. Greg has vivid memories of the Harlem Globetrotters playing at the Spectrum (will they win? will the Globetrotters be able to pull it out in the end? oh, the agony...) One entitlement of parenthood is forcing your own children to enjoy the things you remember loving as a kid, right?

And, let's be clear, there will be some minor forcing for some. This will not be the favorite moment of the weekend for one of our children (three guesses which one...). But our hotel is attached to the mall so I think that will more than make up for watching basketball antics for a couple of hours.

I'll leave you with one clip to brighten your day. If you've ever wished (even just a little bit) that life were more like a musical, this will hit the spot. It's another public improv project like the Frozen Grand Central one:




[Edited to add: I just found out that the Globetrotters have yet another place in Greg's childhood. When he was 7 or 8 he received free tickets to the Globetrotters for good attendance at school in Chicago. He was SO EXCITED he could hardly stand it. Then, in one of life's cruel twists....he got the chickenpox. He remembers sitting in an oatmeal bath, crying and thinking about the fun night that might have been. I picture him shaking his fist to the ceiling and mournfully crying "Globetrotters"! Luckily we are remedying this or it might have been his last words, a la Citizen Kane and rosebud.]

*yes, he's changing jobs. After months of decision wrangling and five rounds of interviews for the job, he's decided to leave his current job for an exciting and interesting new one starting at the beginning of next month. Still here in Boston, so no moving required.

Going green

Boston St. Paddy's parade, photo via flickr

If you're going to celebrate St. Patrick's Day somewhere besides the Emerald country itself, Boston is the place. (Quite possibly this is why Greg yesterday oddly advised the missionaries to go drink a green beer today. Or he's trolling for a release...? They laughed nervously.) Everybody claims Irishness today.

But I, must say, Maddy looks the very part today (just as green as last year) especially with her redbrown hair and green eyes (and lots of green bling):

Lastly & semi-related, maybe this would be a good day to add this favorite:

Postscript

And some time make the time to drive out west
Into County Clare, along the Flaggy Shore,
In September or October, when the wind
And the light are working off each other
So that the ocean on one side is wild
With foam and glitter, and inland among stones
The surface of a slate-grey lake is lit
By the earthed lightening of a flock of swans,
Their feathers roughed and ruffling, white on white,
Their fully grown headstrong-looking heads
Tucked or cresting or busy underwater.
Useless to think you’ll park and capture it
More thoroughly. You are neither here nor there,
A hurry through which known and strange things pass
As big soft buffetings come at the car sideways
And catch the heart off guard and blow it open.

~Seamus Heaney

My related Irish blessing: May your heart be blown open.
But in a painless, pleasant way.

last two photos courtesy of Lauren & her Ireland trip

Baby dreams

For the first time in a long time, I had a baby dream the other night. Weird. I used to have them all the time--especially when I was pregnant {& no, I'm not pregnant}--but it's been years since I dreamed one. Usually they were about my feared inability to care for or even remember the baby.

In one recurring dream, I would suddenly discover that I FORGOT TO FEED THE BABY, EVER, and, apparently, that was a really bad idea. Come to find out, though, babies don't really let you forget to feed them. Whew. (Or as Maddy says, fyoof.)

When I received this week's letter to a parent, I was fascinated to hear that not only was I not alone in the baby dreaming but that dads-to-be also have them. Click on over to read Sugata's wonderful letter about realizing what those fears were all about and how his daughters taught him they were unfounded.
{photo via flickr}

Dear Mateo

Happy Birthday, brother!

Someone recently asked for words for her birthday. I thought it was a great idea but mine's not for a long time so I'm stealing it here to give to you. Here are some words I'm giving you for your birthday, for one reason or another:

bliss
technical difficulties (Sam's favorite thing to say)
siempre (I love to say this)
suitcase
spirit
gelato
whipsmart (because you are)
discover
google (the number, not the site)
sparkle
breeze
monarchs (butterflies, not the rulers)
haberdashery
sequential
melodic
aldena (because we loved her so & laughed)
frankness (get it?)
whistle
mania (especially around Christmas Eve)
imagine
buckstus
red wheelbarrow (so much depends on it, I hear)
machu picchu
manana
amen

Don't worry, there's a real present heading to your door.

{feel free to add your words to Matt here in the comments}

First of a million kisses

{warning: melancholy alert! melancholy alert! what is it with me lately??}

I have spent an entire evening reviving an old obsession with a favorite band. Never mind that I am doing a workshop tomorrow that I need to prepare for. Or that my to-do list does not include chasing down videos of a 20-years-defunct band.

Once I was a 19-year-old girl (yes, really).
I was in London, on my own, away from home...
really away from home for the first time.
Umbrellas were very often involved,

as were late 80s clothes and a bad perm.

I fell in love with the Scottish band Fairground Attraction (led by the fantastic Eddi Reader) & listened to the tape (yes, tape) constantly. Truly, it was the soundtrack of my time there. This was one of my favorites (note: it's a little slower than the original recording. And, yes, she's a hand gesturer. Try and look past it if you can.)



Achhh, that makes me want to be Scottish. Sadly, the band broke up year after recording their album but Eddi continues to record (and her brother, Francis, is the lead singer for the Trashcan Sinatras by the way. Hmm...did I just cross the line to too nerdy? This post might just be for me.)

Today when it came on my ipod, those London memories came flooding back. Along with the current-day gratitude that the person I was thinking about back then as I walked around London became the man I'm married to now. Allelujah!

More Eddi Reader links:
Eddi Reader at TED conference & her bio there
Her website


And this one's for my mom...

Raise your hand if you think you're a perfect parent...

Anyone? Anyone? No? Me either.

If not, go read Jessica's letter this week at Letters to a Parent, addressed to The Mom Who's Not Perfect. And go easy on yourself, okay?

Thanks, Jessica, for sharing this.

Things are looking up in winterland

the fattest robin I've ever seen, reminding me to get my sorry self out on a run

Ah, it's been a good day. I have to admit I've had the late winter blahs lately so I'd just like to thank the universe for sending me a little hope today.

1. First, things are looking up in winterland. I'm hearing birds. The air has a little (I said little) balminess to it. Rains early in the week melted almost all of the snow. The sun turned up bright and early, sheepish and penitent like a truant 7th grader: Yeah, I know. I wasn't here. I tried but I couldn't make it. But at least I'm here now...right?

2. I went on a great run. {And let me start with a bit of truth and reconciliation: lately I haven't actually been running as much as I thought I would. I know, I did this whole listen world, I'm back running announcement. But after that I've been kind of like Fred Thompson's presidential campaign: all announcement and very little running. All the usual excuses--wintry weather, sick self & kids--amounted to maybe a run or two a week for the last month. You might say I'm a fair-weather runner. And you'd be right.} But this week I found a great 4-mile loop through town and farmland that completely makes my heart sing. And pump--although I'm still run/walking. And I found a cool site that lets you map out your route & find out the distance/calories/pace, etc. No more clocking it with the car--I love technology.

3. Then this morning I happened to be online at the same time as my brother Chris, half a world away in Mali. So we spent an hour and a half chatting via instant messaging. What a luxury--to just hang out virtually and have a conversation about everything and nothing. Love that boy. Man, really. I love technology, part 2.

4. Cleared out some flower beds and generally cleaned up the yard a bit. Just my little act of faith that there will eventually be flowers there.

5. Read a good book with the sun streaming through the windows & spilling over the pages. Let myself snooze for a few minutes.

6. Had this conversation with Lauren on the way to her flute lesson:

L: today we had a speaker in Health who has HIV/AIDS [many of our conversations these days revolve around what happened in Health class that day!]. Her life story was so sad! {She goes on to give me the details of her troubled life, including abuse, alcoholism, crime, prison and generally struggling to find her way. Very heartbreaking.}

A: I know, doesn't it seem like some people just have way too many helpings of grief? Like it's just not fair?

L: Yeah, in the middle I was so sad for her. I thought "she needs a hug." [this is a standard Lauren philosophy. She makes the world better through hugs.]

A: [half kidding] So did you give her one?

L: I did! At the end I went up and said "you need a hug" and gave her a big one. I think she was surprised. She whispered "thank you."

I think I'll keep her.

uncurbed enthusiasm

photo by Phil Stern, 1952, Ella Fitzgerald & Louis Armstrong

I have this postcard on my bulletin board
love the enthusiasm
the go-for-it-ness
the absolute
commitment
to hitting the note
& to being in the moment.
Sing it, Louis & Ella!
I don't get the sense
they're too worried
or caught up in
how they look,
what people think,
will this be silly?...
just singing.

***
I used to admire
cool (hello, high school)
that kicked back,
back-row opposite of
eager, front-row enthusiasm
but now my heroes are
interesting, engaged people
who are passionate about what they do
who open wide
and belt it out loud
(and end up cool anyway).
***
Like...
Louis Armstrong
Lance Armstrong
Leonard Bernstein
Sam
GB Hinckley
Esther Petersen
Steve Carell
Matt
Madeleine Albright
Nikan, Sam's piano teacher
Anne Lamott
Anna Quindlen
Grandpa Pax
the guy who bags my groceries with gusto
my kids' 5th grade teacher...
{feel free to jump in here with more}
***
I'm a little stingy with my own enthusiasm
but I'm trying to be better
especially since it drives
my hyper-coolness-aware
daughter
crazy
and that's kind of fun
{at what age does enthusiasm
come back out of teenage hibernation?}
***
Believe me, I know it happens to the best of us
When I was young, I had enthusiasm to spare:

just give me a swing

or a hula hoop
But then, the hibernation occurs...

Family vacation? Not a bit of enthusiasm to be found.
But I will humor you with a photo.

And Grand Canyon? Please.
To show excitement would be weakness.
Don't bore me with your natural wonders
and your fantastic vistas.
Excuse me while I avert my eyes
from such enthusiastic nature.
Just give me my walkman
and my 80s wayfarer sunglasses &
I'll call you in 20 years when
I get my enthusiasm back.

Love my roots

Head on over to Letters to a Parent for our first submission from a father--in fact, fittingly, it's by my own dad. His piece on parenting/raising trees ("a gentle word of counsel to you who would raise trees") is spot-on, inspiring, and, I think, very Robert Frostish. I think you'll love it.

{And thanks, Dad, for sharing it with me & allowing me to share it with others. Now if I can just figure out if I am the oak, the willow, or the maple...}