Month: April 2008

Last night was the Hope of America program. This is a huge event where 7000 elementary students either sing in a musical chorus or perform on the floor of a basketball stadium. Patriotism is the theme of the evening. It features songs about America, the constitution, the declaration of independence, Martin Luther King, Abe Lincoln, voting, and supporting our military. This program has run for over a decade now and is often broadcast to troops over seas. It is an amazing spectacle. So far all of my kids have had one or two chances to participate. I have mixed feelings about the program. I don’t personally enjoy attending major public spectacles with my children. It makes me anxious to keep track of my kids in huge crowds. Also the program does not vary much from year to year. After attending this event at least five times, I’ve seen the all the variations. Not only that, but I’ve participated in helping my kids learn all of the songs. And so I viewed attending this event with trepidation and an expectation of boredom which would only be tempered by the annoyance of trying to entertain children who were also bored. After which I got to drive home through a major traffic jam.

All the things I expected were there, and yet, somehow the program still touched my heart and I shed tears more than once. This year Gleek was our only performer. The other three all sat with me at the very top of the stadium. I listened to Kiki raving excitedly about every single number, reminiscing on performances that she’d participated for in past years. Link was a joyful audience to Kiki’s expert explanations. Patches was frequently bored, but even he was entralled by some of the numbers. There is something magic about a huge space full of children dancing and singing their hearts out. They were all down there, totally absorbed in messages of hope about the ideals of our country and dreams about what our country could be. When they get older, they’ll learn far more about the complexities of politics and racial tensions, but if they’ve learned the lesson this program intends, then they’ll face those challenges with hope that the world can be made a better place.

None of those children are perfect. Many of them made missteps in their dance numbers. Many of them come from dysfunctional homes. Some of them are serious discipline problems at school. Some of them steal. Some of them lie. And yet from all those imperfect pieces, a marvelous program was forged. As a whole, they radiated hope and joy. It occurs to me that this is very much like the conscious creation of our country. Yes we have our problems. Yes some things need to be fixed. But on the whole America is a glorious creation that has allowed more freedom and well being to more people than has ever existed before in the history of the world. I’m pleased to be a part of that creation, just as I was pleased to be part of the Hope of America show. Both involve some personal inconvenience and irritation, but both are ultimately worth the effort.

I used myself up yesterday and I didn’t even realize it. By bedtime I was very grouchy with the kids. Only when Howard came up and spent 15 minutes talking Patches through an upset did I realize that I was so focused on “these kids need to be asleep now” that I wasn’t seeing that they needed some extra time to talk and feel loved. Part of my drive to get them all into bed was because I hadn’t had a quiet minute all day long. I was focused on business things all day long until I got to the evening schedule. That was where I fizzled out.

I need to remember to stop in the afternoon. It feels wrong to pause for a break when there are so many things left to do, but if I don’t then the evening does not go well.

Today- May 3 Teraport Wars layout, open merchandise pre-orders, attend big concert thing for Gleek, clean house so it is baby safe, pick up my sister and her kids from the airport.

May 4- 10 Monitor merchandise pre-order, Teraport Wars layout, Teraport Wars copy editing, spend time with my sister, attend another evening event for Gleek, Howard packs and leaves for Leprecon, close pre-orders, drive to Idaho to visit more relatives.

May 11- 17 begin sorting and prepping for shipping merchandise, attend evening concert for Kiki, final layouts and edits for Teraport Wars, begin layout for Out From Under (the newly renamed next Schlock book), plan and execute a birthday party for Kiki, attend fundraiser dinner for Kiki’s summer girl’s camp.

May 18 – 24 Ship merchandise, layout for Out From Under, prepare for and attend Conduit in Salt Lake City.

May 25 – 31 lots of little end-of-school special events, Something from the weeks prior to this which didn’t actually happened during the intended week.

As of last Sunday, Howard and I started teaching a primary class at church. This means that each Sunday we are responsible for teaching a lesson to a group of five kids aged 9 & 10. So far the experience has been pleasant. The kids have been pretty well behaved, although there have been hints that they could get rowdy if we don’t handle things right. One important aspect of being a teacher is to earn the respect of your students. We’re willing to learn from people we respect. Howard and I already had a head start on these kids before we even walked in the door because some of them read Howard’s comic strip. But today after the lesson was over, but before it was time to move into the next section of meetings, Howard earned their awe. They were fidgety and so we decided to let them play Rock Paper Scissors. Howard systematically trounced all of them. They were playing two out of three, and only one time did a child win a round. When Howard was done, he stood back and said:
“So how did I do that?”
The kids all stared up at him, then one ventured “Because you can read our minds?”
Howard smiled. “Exactly.”

He then explained that he was predicting what they would throw next based on what they had already thrown. That was followed with a little bit of Rock Paper Scissors strategy theory. Then there were more games during which one of the kids managed to beat Howard. Then the kids wanted to see if Howard would beat me as well. I was pretty sure he would. He did. I just haven’t internalized enough strategy to really excel at high-speed Rock Paper Scissors.

So by the end of the day, we’d demonstrated that we’re smarter than the kids and that we can teach them cool stuff. I think the class is going to go really well. I know I’m looking forward to team teaching with Howard. I love teaching, he loves teaching. Teaching children is different than teaching adults, but I’m glad to find that some of the same emotional rewards are still there. This is a relief, because the last time I taught primary it was solo, and I felt like I was teaching to a brick wall.

Today my kids discovered the joy of having a mother with packing supplies. All day long they’ve been cutting sections off of my roll of packing paper to draw great big maps and game boards. It makes me glad to see. I remember similar creations during my own childhood.

It’s been a good day.

This past week Howard and I had the occasion to write a press release. (If anything comes of it, we’ll let you know.) Neither of us was particularly happy about having to write it because we had piles of other work to do. I wrote the first drafts and they just were not working. Finally in frustration I went to Howard. He took my drafts and some suggestions from smart friends and then crafted a solid press release. My version did not work because I was merely making an announcement/sales pitch. Howard’s version also included the announcement, but it also told a story that would interest people enough that they wanted to know more. Howard tried to suggest this when I was writing that first draft. “Find the story.” He told me, but in the end he was the one who found it.

When I want to write a blog entry I have the same challenge. I want to find the story that explains the events of my day, or my week (or my year, or my life.) I want to frame it all in a way that makes sense. I want to make the experiences useful either for enlightenment or amusement. I do this primarily for myself, but it brings me joy to share these stories with others as well. No matter what the story I’m telling, I try to find a positive frame for it. I do this because I believe in the power of storytelling. I believe that the stories we tell ourselves have the power to shape our lives. My friend Janci named her blog “fall seven times; stand up eight” I love that frame. I love the message she is giving to herself and to anyone else who reads her blog. I know that no matter what life throws at her, she is going to be fine, because I’ve seen the frames that she gives to the stories of her life.

Lately I’ve been having trouble finding frames for my blog stories. It certainly isn’t for lack of events, because my days are always full. I think that is exactly the problem. My brain is always full tracking tasks and so there is no space for me to lay my thoughts out and shape them into stories. This is doubly true for fictional stories. Fiction starts small but often grows to take over my whole brain and so I’ve been afraid to let the story seeds sprout. The stress has gone down several notches since the end of March. I feel calmer, more ready to handle the things that are coming. But my brain is likely to be cluttered for some time to come. Adding to the clutter in my brain are all the bits and pieces that I’m holding on to because I know that they are the seeds of good blog entries. They are stories that I want to tell. I need to do a better job of clearing space in my brain and my day so that I can find the right frames for these stories. It is so frustrating to sit staring at a blank screen, sorting through the clutter in my brain, knowing I had stories to tell, but not remembering what they are.

Lately the story I have been telling myself about my life is that I am busy and stressed. This theme runs through nearly every day and many of my blog entries. The story I have not been telling is that I am happy and grateful for the life that I get to live. Both stories are accurate, but the abundance of retellings of the stressed stories make them loom over the happy stories. I had this reversed last November. I was no less busy, but happiness was the theme of the month. I need to put that back. I need to remember the stories that explain why I am so busy and why I am glad to be busy with these things. I need to consciously look for the happy things in my life. I think if I do this, I will never be at a loss for a story to tell.

My journal is often repetitive. Tonight I’m going to try to skip the repetitive bits.

Insert “woe is me” rant about the needs of my kids and how I can’t possibly meet all of those needs here.

Insert stressed musings about the state of business and merchandising here.

There. With that out of the way, I can get to the more original stuff.

I got the next set of digital proofs for Hold Horses today. They are beautiful. All the problems are fixed and we’re ready to move forward with the project.

Kiki woke up this morning cheerful and apologetic. She is ready to work hard and talk to her teacher about how to do better.

Kiki’s mid-term grade report came home and she’s brought all of her grades back up. She seems to be absorbing the lesson that practice is sometimes necessary. She’s even talking about re-taking German 1 next year so that she can really learn the language well. This takes all the teeth out of my threat to make her re-take the class if she doesn’t apply herself, but I don’t mind because she’s enjoying the class again and working hard.

Bedtimes have been a mess all week. There was much crankiness this evening because both Gleek and Link had a pile of undone homework and they’re both short on sleep. I was short on patience. But with support from Howard we had a good discussion about how bedtimes haven’t been working because it is still daylight and doesn’t feel like bedtime yet when they should already be asleep. Tomorrow bedtime has to start at 7 pm to make time for the pajamas and toy pick up and snack and story time and reading in bed. I frequently feel like our bedtime rituals are far too elaborate. It is hard for me to be so focused at the end of the day. But the kids are much happier and more secure when bedtime runs predictably.

Summer is coming. As usual I’m worried about the lack of schedule. Insert worried musings about how to manage the lack of external schedule here.

Today I did some bathroom scrubbing. This task was long overdue and took far longer than I expected because of the severity of the grunge that had to be removed. But it is truly clean now. Hopefully going forward I’ll be able to stick to requiring chores of the kids so that they’re helping me keep things clean. That system keeps breaking because I decide I’m too tired to enforce chores right at that moment. I need to remember it really is better for us all if I’m not the only one cleaning up the house.

It snowed today. I’m tired of snow.

And now it is time for bed.

Kiki: (crying and holding her clarinet) Mom. I need help!
Me: Okay. What do you need help with?
K: I’m trying to play this song and it just won’t work!
M: What do you need me to do?
K: I don’t know! I just need help!
M: I need more information so I can figure out how to help you.
K: Why aren’t you helping me?! I need help!
M: Do you need me to come listen while you play?
K: That’s what I’ve been trying to get you to do!
M: Next time please say “mom come listen to me” so I know what you need.
K: (stomps downstairs, makes squeaky noises with the clarinet, then dissolves into tears.) See! I need help!
M: I can’t help you with Clarinet. You know more about it than I do.
K: But I need help!
M: We’ve identified that you need help and that I can’t help. Who else can help you?
K: I don’t know! No one! I’m just going to fail!
M: What about your clarinet teacher?
K: He’s so busy. I don’t want to bother him.
M: He’s paid to teach you and would be delighted to help a student who is actually interested in learning after spending all day trying to teach kids who don’t care.
K: (silence)
M: Put your clarinet away. We’ll worry about this tomorrow.
K: (puts clarinet away and gives me the cold shoulder as she goes past.)

The really sad thing is that I’ve had similarly irrational conversations within the past week or two, only I was doing the part Kiki took tonight. She’s irrational because she’s over tired, her neck is out of joint, and clarinet is not an activity she enjoys. She’ll get some sleep and when she wakes up she’ll find her own solution to the problem because she is incredibly smart and capable when she is thinking clearly. I’m just glad that the conversation did not escalate into an all-out fight because I’m not exactly at my best this evening either.

There is a bright orange flower growing on the highway. Some seed found the small crack to the left of the fast lane right next to the center barrier. It sprouted a small green tuft of leaves and a single, shining flower. The plant bobs cheerily in the wind from the cars, unaware that smashing death rushes by a mere foot away.

I am traveling the highway. I go fast because I’ve got to get where I’m going. If I move to slow something might hit me from behind. Speed is exhilarating. The wind rushes by. I am going places. I become one with the vehicle and the vibrations are ground into my bones. Even when I make short stops, my body thrums with the memory of motion. Can’t stop long. Have to keep going.

But I see the flower on the road I just traveled. The flower I already passed by without noticing. How many other tiny beauties have I passed or crushed in my hurry?