More On Time

I asked my students yesterday about their memories of September 11.  They talked about being in third grade and their schools being shut down, watching it on television over and over again, their parents racing to come pick them up.

Jesus.  I remember like yesterday sitting in the living room on Vine St., smack in the middle of my twenties, watching the news all morning, followed by days of panic and sadness.

While my now-adult students were in elementary school.

Time flies.

Sentimental All of a Sudden

Pretty much every other moment I just want to grab my kids and hold them in one spot and prevent them from growing up one inch, one minute more.  Alternating moments are spent trying to help them (push them?) to grow up right.  I've spent plenty of time being an annoyed and harried parent, spread too thin and not guided enough by love.  I think that has really been changing these last few months, and now I wish I could go back and do so much differently.

This guy was in the middle of the floor when I got home.

The old me would have just seen another mess to be cleaned up, I think.  Now I see an artifact of my kids' fleeting childhoods.  Another freaking paradox to contend with.

I should mention that I'm able to be in love a little more now because 1) we have a cleaning lady 2) we are in therapy every other minute fighting to make our marriage work and 3) my tenure package is in.  The material matters.  Having a bit more time for love, for loosening, really helps.  Not that I couldn't have done better.  I could have.  But I could have done worse, too.  We all need help sometimes.

My Brother, 33

My grandma Evans, 99, passed a way a few weeks ago.  Which stinks, except it meant that I got to spend some time with my family, and could celebrate my brother's birthday with him.  I love all my brothers, but J.B. is the one I spent the most time growing up with.  We're good friends now, and I love him with all my heart.  Happy birthday, J.B.!

First Day of School

Third Grade, First Grade

Us, 10

Nolie, 6

Wild West Relay

Leg 1.  It was really windy.  So windy that I felt like the breath was being sucked out of my mouth before I could pull it down into my lungs.  I was so anxious that I wouldn't be able to keep running because I hadn't trained like I should have.  Instead I had spent a lot of time figuring out whether or not life as I knew it was over (it was, thank goodness).  But it went fine.  Life and the race went fine.  I came in a bit under time.  Winded and flushed, but in.

2nd Leg.  The long one, almost ten miles.  3 miles up, dirt roads, 7 miles flying straight down.  Amazing views.  Gorgeous.  Felt good, went fast.  8 miles in had a sense of euphoria, but also the wooziness that I now recognize as my body malfunctioning.  Came in to the finish, again a little under time, thought I felt okay.  Then the vomiting started.  Felt terrible for the next eight hours and hogged an entire bench in the van because sitting up just wasn't an option.

Leg 3.  No way I was going to be able to do it.  I still had vomit on my shoes and it was the middle of the night and I couldn't find my glasses much less my running shoes and it was freezing.  But I didn't want to let someone else take my leg and everyone was sleeping and exhausted.  There was talk about cheating, about letting me out of the van to walk 100 yards and then picking me up again.  It's not like we're going to win anything with eight people instead of twelve anyway.  But I don't like the sound of that.  So I walk one mile.  The moon is bright, the air is cool, and I start to feel better.  Woozy and very out of it--I think the moon and I had a conversation at one point--but one mile added to another was two, and then three, and then four, and finally I came in at five.  Everyone was still sleeping, but I felt better, drove us to the next exchange, and then finally passed out, not nauseous, until daylight.

Last leg.  Still feeling up and down.  Talking to myself a lot about when to push it and when not, since that's part of what gets me into this mess.  Everyone else has done so well and I was the weakest link.  I can't get any food down, though, and the last leg is six miles straight up Rabbit Ears Pass.  Lisa offers to trade with me, and though I hate it, I agree.  I take her four miles and half-walk, half-run them.

Finally, done.  So much of it sucked.  I wasn't prepared and the worst thing I could image happening happened.

But I would do it again.  Totally.  Because of the people in all these pictures, and because sometimes we need to fight these kinds of battles and figure out some things about ourselves.

Beasties

Hive 12

Another summer trip to Logan Canyon.  I was alive and functioning but still pretty grief-y.  I was worried about getting trained up for the long relay in August, though, and when I'm with my writing Hive (Utah is the beehive state) we work and then we play.  So we made some hikes.

There were times I felt like I couldn't breathe, that my legs wouldn't work, that I might collapse in sadness and shame.

But my friends just accepted all of that, and we took one step at a time, and made it up the mountain.  We sat on a rock and took it in, able to look straight down into the canyon below.  It would have been so easy to fall.  But I didn't.

E., Mid-

I think he's holding one of my seaweed snacks there.  I'm sort of obsessed with them.  And with nuts.  And with slaw salads with rice vinegar, soy sauce, and sesame oil.  And fruit.  And hummus.

Good foods.

Good E.

Deer

Saw this guy on a long run this summer.

There were three more in my parking lot on campus last week.  Two took off as soon as I pulled in, but another stayed munching for a while, then stilled, and we had some long moments of eye contact before I finally pulled away and headed to class.

I still think it's magical to see these guys, even though they are so common this time of year, especially as so many animals are seeking food following this long drought and the upcoming winter.

The rain falls today and feels both foreign and a blessing.

Goodbye, and Welcome...?

Hi everyone!

I'm so sad to have to do this, but I'm afraid toddlerspit is going to have to move to a new location...blog.com just won't return my emails, and I can't upload pictures, and...well, there you have it!

Won't you come join me at my new blog, http://toddlerspit.blogspot.com/?  I have lots to post about this week, so check in over the next few days to see what's up.  I promise there will be many more parenting hijinks, self-obsessed ramblings, and craft projects.

But maybe no more lego men with penises.  That seemed to trigger this whole mess.

Cuz it's all about me.

See you over at blogger!

Off to Whidbey

Well, I'm in the airport, getting ready to head to Whidbey Island in the San Juan Islands (Washington) for an "Engineering, Social Justice, and Peace" conference.  The word "conference" should be loosely interpreted.  I think there won't be too many of us, and that there will be walks in the woods, journaling, bonfire talks, and maybe even the making of art.  We've been invited to read Parker Palmer's The Courage to Teach in preparation (I'll be reading it here in a few minutes and on the plane).  The subject of the conference?  "Bringing Our Whole Selves Into our Work."

How I'm going to make it for four days without my trusty Janome, I do not know.

Not sure what to expect, but I'll let you know more when I get back.  See you Monday!

Problems with Pics or, I hate blog.com

yes, there's a problem with the pics in the last few posts.

Yes, I hate blog.com, which is constantly going down, changing my settings, and otherwise being annoying.  thanks for your patience.

Going, Going, Gone

Gorgeous



Gorgeous



GOOFY!



This is pretty much what being five years old is all about, by the way.  When I came outside, Addie was singing, in a very adult, sultry voice, "Oh, baby, why don't you come near me, you're the sweetest thing I've ever had" (!?!).  Then, in the next minute, she was running around the yard making goofy faces and talking about being Queen of the Butt-Butts.  This back-and-forth is alternately terrifying and hilarious for the parent.  Oh my God, my kid is growing up!  Oh my God, my kid is never going to grow up!  So weird.

In case you were wondering:  yes I did make that dress out of pillowcases.  From the thrift store.  I did.

Nano nano

The best money I've spent in the last week was $10 at Michael's on a gajillion pipe cleaners.  They can be used for everything.  Addie is particularly happy making strange headgear:

Yes I did...

make this little dress for Nolie out of two pillow cases purchased at el thrift store:



and yes, it is particularly good for spinning:



Also, I think you'll appreciate this particular conversation we had on the way to Target yesterday:

"Mama?"

"Yes, Nolie?"

"I have a baby in my tummy?"

"Oh, you do?  Fantastic!  Congratulations!"

"Its name is Crack!"

"Oh, really?  What an interesting name for a baby."

"It's going to come out of my BUTT!"

"Ah, yes.  The old Crack baby coming out of the butt trick.  I know it well!"

"Like a poop!"

"Yep.  I get it.  I geeet it."

Obligatory Father's Day Treacle

All of my favorite crafty-mama blogs are featuring sappy Father's day yadda-yaddas about the "amazing men" in their lives.  Barfo.

BECAUSE none could be more amazing than this hubba hubba right heyah:



I mean, HEllo.

Right?  Right?

Skeins from the Universe

There are many things that need blogging about, such as the fact that my amazing husband landed a sweet new job here; these are my absolutely all-time favorite new bath products and oh-my-god they're amazing I almost couldn't get out of the shower today for all the smellgasms and you'll all be getting these for xmas in handmade bags; and on my morning walk I saw two deer, one snake, and countless red-winged blackbirds, and the greenery was as high as my waist.  Fantastic.

But something much more urgent calls.  And that is the fact that, three minutes ago, my doorbell rang and there was my very friendly postal carrier with a package.  For me.  Unbidden.  And inside that package were seven skeins of the yummiest felting wool around, in the most gorgeous, seashore colors of blue and green.  In my head they are already the most beautiful slate-oceanwave-forestmoss gorgeousness.

The person who sent them, nameless here, could not have known that on my desk the last few days was this book, finally put away for a while because logic says one shouldn't knit wool in summer.  But I've been wanting to!  Wanting to knit that giant travel bag!  And then felt it!  Yum.  But I put it away, and promised to buy myself some yarn in the September.  But I didn't want to put it away, of course.  I wanted to do the knitting.

So, thanks, you lovely emissary of the universe, for this unexpected and thoughtful gift, and for remembering that I loved this book and the projects inside.  Sweet, sweet. 

I probably

...should not be allowed to raise children.