Month: February 2011

Grouchy

Some days things which are normally easy, seem impossible. Some days commonplace things drive me crazy. It is part of being human. The hard part for me is when I am having one of those days and a child is also having one of those days. I hear the rants and moans about schoolwork and my first instinct is to do damage control. Then I stop myself and spin in the little circle where I get frustrated that I have to care about their work. And I worry about co-dependent behaviors. All of this is especially frustrating when things have been fine for awhile. Before we achieved “doing pretty good” things were “relatively awful” and the back of my brain gibbers in terror that we’ll slide back down into the pit.

I need to chant my new mantra “I’m sorry this is hard for you.” and then practice letting them struggle and sort it out themselves. Much easier said than done. I just have to remember that while sometimes rescues are really necessary, if I always come to the rescue I rob my children of their chances to triumph. I just wish it was easier to tell when to rescue and when to say “I’m sorry this is hard for you” while letting them struggle.

Kiki, The Boy, and the dog

Posted with Kiki’s permission:
I first became aware of The Boy sometime last Fall. When Kiki talked about her high school friends, The Boy’s name occurred with increasing frequency and always in positive terms. I first met The Boy when we changed Kiki’s post-school pick-up location. He was standing there with her, talking and laughing. He and I did no more than wave at each other, but it was nice to put a face to the name I’d begun hearing. Kiki spent the whole ride home telling me about funny things The Boy had said and about how nice it was to have friends who were boys.

Every day for months The Boy stood with Kiki, talking to her while she waited for me to arrive. He brightened her day and always had a cheery greeting for me. I liked him. He seemed nice. Upon my assurance that she was welcome to invite friends home even if they are boys, Kiki invited The Boy over to our house. On several different afternoons they spent gleeful hours shouting over games of Halo, Brawl, and Castle Crashers. Kiki growled fiercely at her siblings if they dared to do anything which she deemed even remotely embarrassing.

So it continued, and I watched. Kiki is fifteen. The Boy is a few months older, he is in the same grade. They stand together on the lawn, talking. Or sometimes they sit close together (but not quite touching) when Kiki has had a bad day. He listens to her, and I think he is sometimes bewildered by her tears. The fact that he listens makes Kiki feel better.

Today, on Valentine’s Day, I pulled up to see Kiki holding a little stuffed dog. The dog was tucked self-consciously, protectively in the curve of Kiki’s right arm. She saw me and began to gather her things. The Boy walked her to the car as he always does. I smiled, waved, and commented on his hair which he bleached over the weekend. He smiled and waved back. Kiki closed the door and turned to me.
“So did The Boy give you the dog?”
“Yes.” Kiki’s grin was near to splitting her face. “It was waiting for me in 2nd period, on my desk. I was late, so everyone looked at me come in. Then I had to ask, in the middle of class, was it for me?” Kiki’s hands rubbed the dog’s soft paws. “I’ve carried it all day. And I keep fiddling with it. The paws are so soft. All my friends keep telling me The Boy likes me. I guess he does.”
The dog was brown and white. It carried a little stuffed heart with the word “love” on it.
“Yeah.” I said. “I’m pretty sure he likes you.”
“His mom made him get the dog for me. She drove him to the store and told him to pick out something. He wasn’t sure what to get, so she said a bear. He decided on the dog and a Hershey bar.”
Apparently I’m not the only parent observing from a respectful distance as these two sweet, geeky kids hang out together.
Kiki rubbed the paws again, then realized she was doing it. She gave an embarrassed wiggle “I’ve been holding the dog all day and my friends laughed at me, but I liked holding the dog. It’s all so complicated.”

Yes it is, and Kiki has only begun to scratch the surface of how complicated relationships can be. I’m just glad for Kiki and The Boy that neither feels inclined to rush. They both have lots of growing and learning left to do.

Upon our arrival home, Kiki proudly showed her stuffed dog to her siblings. They wanted to know what she intended to name the dog. She answered that she did not know. Once they left, she told me she probably wouldn’t name the dog. “That would feel weird.” she said to me quietly. Now the dog sits on her shelf where she can see him easily, and maybe reach up to touch a soft paw when she wants to.

My book project

My current writing project is a memoir in essay form about my struggles to balance work, family, spirituality, community, and self. Most of the essays that will go into the book were originally blog entries here on One Cobble, but they’ve been revised and I’ve also drafted some completely new material as well. Right now I’m about half way through a revision of the entire book. Last Fall I slapped all the essays into place so that I could view the book as a whole project rather than as scattered pieces. This was the right call, because as I go through I’m adjusting essays and information flow depending upon what came before and what will come next. Sometimes this is simply lightly going over an essay, other times it means drafting connecting material from scratch, and once it meant completely scrapping an essay entirely.

Working on the project is taking up most of my available brain space. Family and business chores are still front and center, but in the remainder of my time I’m either working on this revision, avoiding working on the revision, or deliberately taking a break from the revision. The avoidance is almost always triggered by thoughts of how the writing sucks, I’m not saying what I mean, or that no one will care to read it anyway. The most discouraging thing is that for all the emotional energy I’m pouring into the project (and into avoiding the project) I really thought I would be done with the revision by now. Some of the delay is caused by higher priority tasks needing my full attention, but I’ve also wasted time. I know I have. I often question whether the project itself is a waste of time. It impacts my stress level. It takes up time I could be spending on other things. It uses up creative energy and fills the corners of my mind in which I percolate blog entries. Like any creative project, it is expensive.

I will finish this project. Whether or not the completed work ever sees the light of day in print, whether or not anyone else ever reads it or cares about it, whether or not the work is good, I need to know that I saw it through to the end. This book is important to me. The learning processes associated with writing the book, revising the book, and submitting the book to agents are all important to me. None of it is going to be easy, but it is all something I want to do. So I’ll keep at it until the work is done.

Snippets

Last night our dinner table conversation was a discussion of exactly how Darth Vader eats. Howard was a proponent of the “food block inserted through chest plate” option while Gleek was a vehement supporter of the “opening face plate” party. The discussion broke down when Gleek declared that Darth Vader’s real name was bubbles and Howard said “Wait, did we just take a left turn into Gleekland?” No firm conclusions were reached except that the word “bubbles” is made out of giggles.

Kiki has been reading books about kidnapped and/or raped girls lately. She’s read Hidden in Plain Sight: The Story of Elizabeth Smart and The Lovely Bones. As I understand it, both of the books are ultimately optimistic and the really hard stuff in them is touched only very lightly. Now all she need to read is Not Without My Daughter in order to have a perfect trifecta of books that I am completely unable to read as a mother. They hit too close to my fears and would hurt too much.

Gleek has decided that combing the cat should be her daily household chore. Both the cat and I think this is a marvelous choice.

It turns out that 24 hours is a long time after the opening of the GenCon hotel block. I completely forgot to register on Tuesday at noon, and by late Wednesday Howard’s preferred hotel was full. We found another close by, but it still had me a bit panicked last night. I don’t know why GenCon is always surrounded with a cloud of terror for me, but I am perpetually afraid that I will make some mistake which irrevocably ruins the event for us.

Speaking of conventions, Howard’s April has changed from empty to full. He’ll be attending both Ad Astra in Toronto Canada and Penguicon in Michigan. Penguicon is especially notable because Howard will be there with Brandon, Dan, and Jordo of the Writing Excuses crew. They are going to have a great time.

XDM X-Treme Dungeon Mastery is now available in e-book versions via both Amazon and Barnes & Noble. That was last week’s project.

I meet with our tax accountant today. Hopefully he will not have very much homework for me.

Patch has been reading through our family photo books at bedtime because he “wants to look into his past.” Last night he reproached me for a pair of photos I took of him as a baby. In the photos he’d grabbed an open yogurt container and accidentally dumped yogurt on his feet. Instead of instantly helping him clean up, I took two pictures of yogurt covered baby. 7 year old Patch thought this was nigh villainous of me. I hugged him and assured him that I helped him clean up the moment I put down the camera.

Last night Kiki and I had a long and rambling talk about boys, relationships, life plans, and a host of other things. During the course of the conversation we determined that she is completely normal, which was something of a relief for her to learn. Apparently that “all teenagers think they are weird” thing is not a myth. Also the “teenagers never listen to their parents” thing is a myth, at least for Kiki. I hope that she and I continue to have many conversations about many things through the years.

After being sick over the weekend, Link is read to pick up his health and fitness schedule again. I’m pleased to see that the time off did not break his motivation.

LTUE begins one week from today. I need to clear away some space in my brain so that I can contemplate the topics of the four panels I will be on. Not much preparation is needed for most of them. I just need to dust off my thoughts so that they’re a ready resource. The one for which I do need to prepare is the session on financial management. I’m the moderator and I want to make that hour as packed with information as I possibly can.

I’m at about 50% on my project revision. I’d hoped to have it done by now, but since I am continuing to make progress instead of stalling completely, I plan to just keep going. Eventually I’ll work my way to the end.

And now it is time to head out on my errands for the day.

On the couch

At 2 o’clock in the afternoon on a sunny winter day, my front room is full of light. The low angle of the sun in the sky allows it to sneak under the rim of the porch and shine directly through the arched window. This is where I hung the solar powered rainbow maker that I got for my birthday. The sun falls directly on the couch and refracted rainbows dance around the room as the crystals spin.

By noon the day felt like a wasteland of things not done. I’d crashed back to sleep after getting the kids off to school instead of doing the pre-tax accounting which was supposed to be my first priority for the day. Three hours later I dragged myself out of bed to discover the day half gone and myself lacking any sort of motivational energy. I puttered away the last two hours until time to retrieve the kids from school, then washed up on the couch to sit in the sunshine and watch rainbows slide across my walls.

The rainbows moved in rhythmic patterns on the walls. One comet shaped rainbow raced across the ceiling then slowed and paused. A second comet raced up to join it then both reversed course to vanish across the room. I watched them appear and disappear, also marking the patterns of a dozen other rainbows across the ceiling, floor, and walls. It was soothing and contemplative. My fretfulness about lack of productivity faded and my mind drifted.

Patch wandered into the room, saw me, and settled on the couch beside me. We talked a little about school and friends. He expressed his sadness about a friend who moved out of our cul de sac this week. She’s been in his life as long as he can remember and he’ll miss her. We talked together until we saw another friend through the front window and he ran off to play. Gleek dashed through the room several times on various errands pertinent to playing out doors in the winter sunshine. Her bright colored knee socks flashed cheerfully as she went past. Once she stopped to talk to me for a minute about school and the game she was playing outdoors. Kiki wandered into the room and sat down next to me, snuggled on my shoulder. We sat in silence, absorbing sunshine and watching rainbows together until her math tutor arrived.

The sun moved onward until the sunlight no longer shone directly on the couch. The crystals fell into shadow making the rainbows vanish. by that time, I was gone too. The need to supply dinner had drawn me from my repose. Strange that an afternoon of sitting and drifting can change a day from wasted to lovely. I’m glad it worked. I’m glad, not only for the rainbows, but for the little flashes of my children’s lives that I was able to observe by sitting still and quiet.

Good busy day

Between on placement test last Saturday, another coming up this Saturday, Link’s class selection meeting next week, and talking with three neighbors about their kids’ educations, my brain is much full of kid stuff.

It is also fighting off the illness which has run rampant through our family in the last week. The day has been good, but my writing brain abdicated for the day. I hope it will be back tomorrow.

Tests and fears

“I’m scared.” said Gleek. This was not news to me. I’d witnessed her last-minute frantic scramble to find a specific small stuffed animal to tuck in her pocket.
“Sometimes it helps if you list out exactly what you are scared about.”
“I’m scared about going to a new school. I’m scared I won’t make friends. I don’t want to miss 5th and 6th grade at my school. I don’t think I will like a different school. I’m worried that Bestfriend will leave me behind. What if I fail?”
We were in the car on the way for Gleek to take a test which could qualify her for the A.L.L. program.

A.L.L. stands for Accelerated Learning Lab. It is a gifted program where smart kids are pulled from several schools and put together in a single class. That class is then able to focus on high level learning. It used to only be available for 5th and 6th grade. Now kids can test into it for 3rd and 4th grade as well. Patch was going to test too, but he got sick.

“That’s a lot of things to be scared about.” I said in answer to Gleek’s list. “Why don’t we talk them through?”
“Okay.” Gleek answered fiddling with the strap of her bag. The bag contained three books, five snacks, and a water bottle. Her stuffed cat was in her pocket.
“Most of those fears are about switching schools. We don’t have to switch schools if you don’t want to. We’re just taking the test so that you have a choice.”
Gleek nodded.
“The other ones, about failing and Bestfriend leaving you, those are about the test. Lets think about the worst it could get and then lets list what you can do to prevent the worst.”
Gleek nodded again and we started to talk.

I have mixed feelings about the A.L.L. program. Kiki went through it and those two years were an emotional wringer for both of us. In hindsight, I think those two years were hard because of things that were inherent to Kiki and I. It probably is not fair to blame the A.L.L. program, but I still contemplate it with some aversion. Gleek has been having a good year, but three out of four years prior were varying degrees of hard. We want more options. Having her take the test might give us an option.

“We’re going to be late.” Gleek said looking at the clock. “It’s okay if we’re too late and I don’t get to test. I’ll just play with Bestfriend after school. We’ll make a schedule and I’ll be sure to let her pick more of the games.”
I looked at the clock too. The trip had taken longer than anticipated because I was driving in unfamiliar territory. Also, we’d spent precious minutes searching for a stuffed animal.
“Sounds like you’re convinced that Bestfriend will pass the test.”
“Yes.”
We pulled up to the school and dozens of people were still walking into the building. We got inside and joined the crowd of people. Gleek stood close to me and pulled out the new book I’d bought for her. It shielded her from her own nervousness.
Time came for her to walk away from me and her chin quivered just a little bit. I wondered why I was putting us through this. It was a thought I revisited during the three hours I spent in a teacher’s lounge with motion sensitive lights that turned off every 10 minutes unless I waved my arms or walked around the room. I got some writing done, also some worrying.

They had the parents line up along the walls so the kids could easily find them as they exited classrooms. Forty or fifty kids filed past me in clumps of various sizes. The crowd in the hallway began to thin out. I caught my first sight of Gleek, she was chattering away to another little girl. In three hours of testing and break times the two had become fast friends.
“Was that really three hours?” Gleek asked me, then kept talking without waiting for an answer. “It was easy. I thought it would be hard, but it was just like regular work. I want to go to L School. That’s where NewFriend is going and then we could be in the same class. I didn’t like the timed test. I could have gotten the last problem if they only gave me 30 more seconds.”
The stream of chatter continued all the way to the car and for half of the drive home. Gleek was happy. I had not subjected her to a traumatic experience, so I was happy too.

I don’t know what the results of this test will be. I don’t much care. Whether or not she gets into the program, this test represents a triumph. Gleek faced something she was scared to do and she conquered it. Next week I get to do it again for Patch at a different testing site. Gleek’s excited chatter has him convinced that he does not want to miss out.

First thoughts on Kindle

I am a second or third adopter. I have my Kindle because someone else gave it to me. This makes me demographically different from someone who really wants a Kindle in advance of receiving it. I’m glad to have it. I figured I would get one some day, but the truth is that I probably would never have gotten around to buying it for myself before someone gave me one. Facing the actually device and contemplating using it, my feelings toward it are oddly ambivalent. It is as if a part of my brain is afraid that once I become accustomed to reading on a Kindle I will love it and abandon paper books. I may have to change how I define my love of books. I’m not sure I want to do that, but I’ve heard really good things about reading on a Kindle.

Of the current electronic reading platforms, I was most attracted by the Kindle. I’m not sure why.

As with any new gadget there was a learning curve as I figured out how to adjust settings and to use it. There were some moments of frustration during this process. There are probably still some yet to come. The most persistent one is that my subconscious believes that the buttons on the right should page forward while the buttons on the left page back. Both sides have page forward and page back buttons, but it creates momentary confusion when I accidentally page forward when I meant to page backward. This is already fading as I retrain my brain.

The Kindle feels small in my hands. I kind of want a cover for it to give it more heft. I’m a little afraid that I’ll break it somehow. One of my habitual reading times is while I am eating. I’m concerned about splatters and spills.

The page refresh is mildly distracting right now, but I suspect that I will learn to tune it out in the same way that I tune out the turning of a page.

The biggest ongoing resistance that I have to the device is that it is electronic. Somewhere deep in my brain, I expect to be able to check twitter or email. I keep staring at it, and being distracted from absorbed reading. I suspect this will fade as my brain learns what to expect from this device.

I have yet to buy a book for it. I’m testing the waters with free books. I find I have an aversion to spending money for an electronic book. In theory I know why e-book pricing is where it is. In theory I support those prices. But I’m resisting plunking down money for something I can’t really touch. It is an interesting mental block this attachment to a physical object. I’ll take the leap at some point. It is probable that the mental block has more to do with the spending of money than the purchasing of e-books.

I can visualize how this Kindle will be useful. There are books I want to read, but I don’t want to have cluttering the house. I’m looking forward to taking it on trips loaded with books. I don’t have any trips before August, so we’ll see how my habits shake out between now and then.

It will be interesting to look back on this entry in a month to see how much my attitudes have changed.

Link turns over a new leaf

Last night I was down stairs discussing a chapter with Howard and the rest of our writing group when I heard clattering in the kitchen. Link was doing the dishes. Unasked. Link also made an exercise chart and proceeded to do exercises. Then he sat with our writer’s group and participated in the conversation instead of disappearing into a video or video game. Today he kept to his schedule of exercise. He also encouraged the younger kids to eat their dinner and even cooked a pizza for them. He said “Mom. I like my new schedule. I’ve been happy ever since I started it.”

The origin of this new and improved Link is not a mystery. He and I had a scolding conversation the day before where I pointed out to him the quantities of time that he has been spending glued to screens. Add to that the fact that he has begun his first junior high PE class. Also add that his scout troop has just begun working on the Personal Fitness merit badge. All of these circumstances appear to have clicked together in his head and he is newly ready to take charge of his life.

I know that the road ahead is not going to all be sunny and cheerful as today was. Link is going to have tired and grouchy days. He’s going to forget (or not want) to keep to his schedule. This is okay. The fact that he made it and kept it for awhile means that the next time he does something similar he’ll already have some practice. This is the same method I used to teach myself how to stay organized. It is also how I taught the kids housework.
Create a system with built in incentives and tracking.
Use it until it breaks down.
Build a new system based upon what I learned from the previous one.
Repeat as necessary.
Once I realized that the break down of a system is part of a process instead of a failure, I felt much better about my capabilities. Now I just need to figure out how to teach that to Link. In the meantime, I’ll enjoy Link’s new confidence and enthusiasm.

Gadgets

I was on the couch absorbing the sunshine streaming in our front window while also using my phone to check up on twitter. Howard came to the top of the stairs at my left and looked down at me. He stood there for a long moment, and when I looked up at him he had a half-puzzled, half-pouty look on his face.
“You have more gadgets than I do.” He said.
My first thought was that this was patently ridiculous. Howard is definitely more tech oriented than I am. He always has been. He had a cell phone and a pager back before most people did. He upgraded to an iPhone before I did. His computer was always the good one and mine the hand-me-down. Except I just got a new computer. And I have a little netbook laptop that we bought for my writing. With the addition of the Kindle that my dad bought for my birthday, my personal gadget count exceeds the number of fingers on one hand. This is somewhat baffling to me. Why on earth would I need so many little electronic things? It hardly makes sense for me as a writer and mother. But they are so very useful for me as a business manager and publisher. Also I now have every gadget I can conceive of needing at this point in time. The next four gadgets our family buys will be for Howard and/or the kids, while I continue to use the ones I have until long after most people consider them obsolete. Thus will the natural balance of the household be restored.