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My cousin is ill. She has been ill for a long time with a wide variety of not-exactly-crippling problems. The illnesses drain her of energy. The medicines she must take drain her family resources and cause her to put on weight. She is left with a cluttered house and four kids to take care of and only a very limited amount of energy or financial resources to manage them. This past week she was hospitalized. I’ve only just acquired this information because my mom spoke with her mom and passed the news along. I fell out of touch with this cousin somewhere during the last 10 years.

This is the cousin I always admired and looked up to. She was two years older than me, so I watched her date and graduate in anticipation of doing these things myself. She was always so pretty and talented. She always seemed to have piles of friends and potential boyfriends. The boyfriends were only potential because she decided not to be in a serious relationship in high school. I admired that and decided to follow the example. Many of the steps I took during my teen years were following in her footprints. She married and had kids which moved her into another realm until I did the same. Then we were peers again. We bought this house from her.

I haven’t spoken with her in a long time, but I know that the life she has now is not the one she dreamed of. The life she dreamed of is impossible because of things she did not choose. I am once again brought to a realization of how blessed I am in my own life. I have the health and energy to chase the life I want rather than nearly drowning just trying to stay afloat. I have been greatly blessed and so I have the obligation to use my blessings to help those who struggle. My cousin has no energy to spare for keeping in touch, so I must reach out to her. I must look around me to see where I can help. I must use some of my spare energy to bless the lives of others.

Kiki’s big party was last night. Very little turned out the way that we had planned. We intended to have sleep over and take the group out to go see Nancy Drew in the theater. It was only after I sent out invitations that I noticed that the release date had been pushed back by a month. So I had to send out a paper saying that we’d go see The Last Mimzy instead. Apparently RSVP means “have your daughter tell my daughter that she can’t come or alternately that she can come but may she bring a friend.” Yes that is right. One of my daughter’s birthday party guests called on the day of the party to ask if she could bring her friend with her. But it was okay because we had an extra ticket because another girl canceled at the last minute. Oh, and no one was staying the night. The one guest and her friend did come back in the morning for breakfast, but when they arrived they announced that they had already eaten.

Kiki had fun. That is the important thing. I need to remember that because the whole experience has left me grumpy. I’m grumpy and I have a newfound resolve to ALWAYS respond when an invitation says RSVP. I also have a huge bowl full of waffle batter that will probably go to waste. Fortunately Howard was able to find volunteers to help us eat up the dutch oven pizza from last night.

At least the movie was a good choice. All the girls enjoyed it, or said they did. Listening to the chatter on the way to the movie was like being transported back to middle school. They all talked about boys in their class and who liked whom. Kiki, who isn’t interested in boys that way yet, handled things the same way I did at that age. She happily chattered about other people without saying a word about her own interests. During my stint as chauffeur I realized that the girl who invited a friend along, invites this same friend to everything. She would chatter about how her family was going to go pick up her grandma or that she wanted to go to the mall, or how she intended to take trip to a park. No matter what the plan was she’d turn to the friend and say “you should come!” I had a picture of this poor quiet friend being dragged everywhere as a sort of human security blanket. Also, preteen girls don’t make statements, they make exclamations. And they interrupt themselves lots. And they pretend to be embarrassed about things they really want to reveal. I had friends like that. They were soothing because I didn’t have to do much talking. I think Kiki finds them soothing for the same reasons.

Anyway it is all over now and I think it was a good birthday for Kiki.

Today began with a trip to the library. Before the library trip was all the normal dragging kids out of bed, feeding breakfast, and dropping at school. That doesn’t count as the beginning of the day because for all of that I run on autopilot. The beginning of the day is when I take a breath and contemplate what to do with the two hours before I have to collect Gleek. Today I spent half of that time at the Library. Patches went with me. He was not enthusiastic about the library trip. “Libwawies are bowing.” He informed me. But I enticed him by telling him he could put all of the books into the return slot. He thought that was pretty cool. Patches was much more interested in exploring the building than in selecting books. So we wandered all over the library. Every stair had to be climbed. Every elevator required a ride. The stepping stones in the courtyard all had to be jumped upon. As we passed through the areas of the library that I needed, we would pause the exploration long enough for me to grab a few books. Then we capped off the visit by using the self-checkout machine. Patches thought that was really cool. He says we need to use it every time. As we left the library I asked if he still thought that libraries are boring. “No. They’we intwesting.” Score one for future literacy.

I plan to take my kids to the library often this summer. This will be a significant change since I’ve only been inside the library five times in the past year. Three of those times were in the last two months. We stopped going in part because trying to keep track of 4 children inside a library was exhausting. I’m using today’s experience and trying to plan how I can make it work. Patches obviously needs to explore. I suspect Gleek will need the same. Kiki will quickly load up her bag and arms with all the books she can carry. Link will have to be coerced into picking at least 3 books. I want to be able to select books for the three kids who won’t pick them at the library, but who want to have books to read when they are at home. I think the plan has me trailing Gleek and Patches while Kiki picks out books. Then she can watch them in the enclosed courtyard while I go select books. The library trips will not be relaxing for me, but I think they’ll be necessary for the children.

I am grouchy today and trying to figure out why.

It could be because I ran some numbers for my book project. I want very much to believe that we’ll sell 2000 copies of the book. We sold that many of Howard’s book. But my book doesn’t have the built in audience that his book has. If we order 1000 copies and sell all of them we’ll make our money back and have just enough money for another print run. For 2000 books the price per book is lower, but the out of pocket expense is higher. We’ve decided that if the pre-orders get over 850 then we’ll order 2000 books. A part of my brain believes that will be an easy number to hit. Another part of my brain thinks that is a ridiculously high number. The rest of my brain wants both of those pieces to shut up so we can think other thoughts now.

The grouchy could also be related to the fact that I signed Link up for a summer school class. For the entire month of June he’ll be spending 3 hours every week day working on his reading and writing. The teacher swears that they’ll keep it fun. Link likes this teacher and wants to do the class. But it is still 3 hours of school when no one else has school. I’ve told Link that I’ll be making the other kids do more housework and that since he’s in school he’ll only have to do his regular stuff. That makes it a little more fair. Part of me is glad to have this external structure for our lives. Another part of me doesn’t want to sign up for more structure when I was going to get to sleep in more often. I hope Link has fun. I don’t want him to be miserable even though I do want to help him with reading and writing.

Another possible source of grouchy is that I’m pretending that I’m not waiting breathlessly to hear back about the Ages of Wonder anthology edited by Julie Czerneda. She told me that I’d hear by May 22. I know that there are a few more stories coming in by the end of this week. I will probably hear on Monday or Tuesday. But there is an excited voice that whispers about the possibility that I could hear today, shouldn’t we check email just in case? The rational voices preach calmness and talk sensibly about the unlikelyhood of my story being selected. They all jabber while I try to stuff them into a box and pretend I don’t hear any of them.

The last day of school is two weeks from today. I’m trying to plan for a summer schedule. I want very much to keep the kids working on academic things. Link will do this in summer school, but I have to provide a structure for the rest. I want to make sure they all help me keep the house clean and running smoothly. I want to plan enriching activities so that we don’t spend all summer with video games blaring. I’m forming a plan that involves assigning each day of the week a subject of focus. One day could be library day where we check out books and focus on reading. Another day could be art day where I plan an art project. A third day could be game day where I use game play to teach lessons about cooperation or resource management. The cynical voice in my head thinks this plan is ridiculously elaborate and that I’ll never follow through on it past one week or maybe two. but I need some kind of plan to head off the chaos that is a house full of children for three unstructured months.

For me to finish my book publishing project, I require Howard’s help. Every minute he spends helping me is one that he isn’t spending working on his book. I try to keep the impact on his time to a minimum, but I can’t make it zero. Part of me feels guilty for impinging on his work time. Another part feels like it is only my just due for all the hours I’ve spent supporting his work. Of course his books pay the bills while mine is a labor of love.

No wonder I’ve been grouchy. I’ve spent all day fleeing from one set of arguing voices only to trip over another set. I wish I could find a way to make them all shut up so that I could get something done. Watching a movie would work, but then so would gardening. Great. Another argument.

Some days don’t contain much time for quiet contemplation. Today was such a day. I ran from activity to activity trying to keep everyone on schedule. We fit everything in, the birthday donuts to a classroom, the key lime pie made, the church luncheon at a park, the wrapping of presents, the hour of cub scouts, the mother/daughter dinner, the presents and pie eating, and the departure of Kiki for her first official youth group activity. Interspersed with all of that were the regular events which happen every day, two potty accidents, laundry, dishes, taking kids to school, picking kids up from school, all that stuff. I even stole some time to tweak the text on my children’s book.

It was a busy day. I want very much to wax rhapsodical about Kiki and how much she has grown. I want to use words to capture her just as she is before she grows another two inches and is taller than me. I want to describe the conflicting emotions she harbors as she wants to be independent but discovers that there are many ways to achieve it, some of them bad ones. I want to express my amazement at her ability to turn herself around and place her feet on a path that leads to places she wants to go rather than places she doesn’t. She has had a rough week and I’m thoroughly impressed that she is learning lessons from it and moving on.

Kiki is now 12. In 14 days she will be leaving elementary school forever. Next fall she will embark upon the perilous journey that is public junior high school. I am both happy and sad to see her grow up. She was my first baby and now there is nothing babyish about her.

Today Angela Call delivered large size files with all of the pictures for my children’s book. They are beautiful. Better than beautiful, they are funny and energetic and they make me happy. I love this book. I printed out a paper copy for myself. It is amazing how much more real the project seems when I can hold it in my hands. I could not have asked for a better illustrator. Not only that, but she and her husband have both been a pleasure to work with. They have been professional throughout the project.

I wrote the text for the book back in December. January I did my great artist search. Those were busy/exciting times, but for the last 3 months I’ve had to sit and wait while the pictures slowly came into being. Now I get to work again. There are a few final picture tweaks and then Howard and I need to get down to the business of getting the book printed and released. This is where I really earn my half of the royalties. I don’t mind the work. I’m a little worried about getting it right, but I don’t mind the work itself. The work is a small price to pay, because in July I will get to hold a real book in my hand. It will be a real book with wonderful pictures and my name on the cover.

*happy dance*

Instead of sending the letter, I went in and talked to Kiki’s teacher. I had to make sure there was no possibility that Kiki’s failing grades would get her held back in 6th grade. That would be a disaster for her emotionally. It isn’t. She’s headed for 7th. If it had been a possibility, then I would have fought the late work policy and we would have scrambled hard to make sure she did enough work to pass.

I expressed my concern to the teacher that there was no way for Kiki to bring her grades up at this point. The teacher agreed and said she intends to change the policy for next year. The teacher then granted a few deadline extensions for Kiki. I told her our plan for school work for the remainder of the year. Kiki still needs to scramble to get work done. But this time I’ve got her committed to scrambling rather than me enforcing the scramble.

This conversation was such a nice contrast with last Friday’s conversation. We were all happy and looking for solutions rather than angry.

Mrs. 6th Grade Teacher,

Kiki will be failing your class this term. This is primarily her fault. She is the one who did not do the work. I considered doing what I did last term and making her do nothing but homework until it is all done and turned in. However, your policy of only giving 60% on late work means that even if she works her heart out to make up all the work, she will still fail. I do not feel like it is fair to my child or to the rest of our family to make us all miserable when there is no hope of reward.

Part of the reason Kiki gave up this term was because last term she worked all day, every day, for a week to make up work and still failed classes. She decided that since working hard didn’t make a difference, she would just focus on having fun instead.

Kiki and I had several long conversations this weekend. I believe she now understands why it is important to strive for good grades even if you don’t measure your self worth by them. She has expressed a new commitment to doing her best in school.

I will be enforcing an hour a day of homework for Kiki. I will make sure that she actually does work for that entire hour. She will focus on upcoming assignments first. When those are done, she will work on things that are late. She has to do this hour of homework before she is allowed some of the privilege activities that she enjoys. Hopefully this will help her learn that work must come before play.

Just wanted to let you know what my plans are for helping Kiki learn the lessons she needs.

Because it is Mother’s Day and I am therefore entitled, I took off for a solo walk through my neighborhood. Not once during the walk did I have to stop to cajole anyone into motion. Nor did I have to holler to anyone to slow down. It was really nice. As I walked I looked at houses and yards. I like to look at other people’s yards. It gives me ideas about what to do with my own. I also entertain myself playing the “If that house were mine” game. That is where in the space of time it takes me to walk past the house I look at it and make a few mental plans for how I would change it. Many of the houses in my neighborhood are architecturally uninteresting. Lots of them are just brick boxes. A very few houses actually have the deep porches and dormier windows that I just love. Not a single house in our neighborhood has a turret or bay window which I also love.

After my legs got tired, I turned my feet back home. My house doesn’t have a deep porch or dormier windows. It is one step above brick box because it has aluminum siding as well. But it is at the end of a cul de sac and today the yard looks pretty good. I finally got weeds pulled and the lawn mowed. Hopefully this next week I’ll get to do some more. I love arriving back home to a place that I have made beautiful.

Howard and I were invited by our friend Kevin Wasden to come to his house for a concert. He knows a couple of talented musicians and they performed for an hour. I didn’t go for the music. I went because it was a chance for Howard and I to go on a date. I hoped to have the chance to visit with Kevin, but I didn’t expect to be impressed by the concert itself.

Contrary to my expectation, I did enjoy the music. More than that, I was impressed by these two women. Stephanie Smith and Debra Fotheringham are both local, but they travel all over the country to perform at small concerts. They are both young musicians who are just beginning to spread their wings and fly. After the concert was over I got to talk with both of them. I got to hear about how they’ve arrived where they are and where they hope to go from here. They were delightful to talk to and I would love to visit with them more.

I walked away from the experience happy. I had never been to a house concert before. I love the idea that people can get together in a small social setting just to enjoy music and being together. I want to host events like that some day. I’m beginning to sense that there is this whole local network of creative motivated people. The more people in this network I meet, the more I am amazed. Without exception they have been fascinating and intelligent. Everyone is trying to help the others succeed. I know that not all creative communities function that way, but I love it.

I want to do more to build the local creative community. I want to be able to connect with creative people more often than twice per year at the local conventions. This is even more motivation to get my house into shape. I want to be able to entertain here. I want to do what I can to bring creative people together so that we can all help each other grow.

In that vein, you should all go check out Stephanie and Debra’s websites. They both have CDs available for sale. They each performed 7 songs and all were enjoyable, but four songs in particular really spoke to me. Stephanie’s “Self Portrait” and “Fragile Sometimes” both express things I’ve felt. Debra’s “Build me a Road” and “Waiting” had fascinating interactions between wordplay and music. They resonated for me by painting vivid pictures and moods.