All Adither

What's going on

I've been doing something really bad lately. Something born out of desperation. Something that is making my life so much better, but is really wrong.

I've been waking Claire up in the morning with a portable DVD player an and Angelina Ballerina show playing (not quietly) on her nightstand.

She eventually rolls over, props herself up and watches.

This is so much better than the poking, prodding, singing, tickling and Chatimal imitating I had been engaging in that I barely care I'm giving in to lazy parenting.

I'm tired of trying to do the right thing all the time. I tend to be an overthinker, an overworrier. Especially when it comes to my kids. So, on this one, I'm saying Fuck It.

***

I got a new camera for Christmas. I KNOW. How spoiled can one girl possibly be? It's a Canon 60D. I'd had my Rebel for four years and worked that thing into the ground. I mean, it's still clicking along fine, but I felt ready to move up and my generous husband made it happen.

Here is a preliminary shot with the 60D and my friend's Sigma 10-20mm lens that I'm thinking about buying from him (I sold my old Tamron wide angle to fund a new/used one).

Yesterday was partly sunny, crisp and melancholy in they way late December can be and I went to Fishermen's Terminal in the Magnolia neighborhood to see what there was to shoot. It was fun for me. Next time I want to take a macro lens to get some texture close ups of the peeling, rusting boats.

***

This is new year's eve! Already 2013 in some parts of the world.

I'm excited for the year ahead. I'm hoping for inspiration, amazing trips, yoga, as much love as I experienced in 2012, and balance.

I want the next 365 days to bring you whatever fills your tank and makes you happy. As always, thanks for reading!

Smitten and smited

I woke up crying this morning. More accurately, I woke up from a bad dream and began to weep. This is not usual for me, but the dream was so vivid and so, so sad. It had to do with family and infidelity and losing touch with Max and Claire and...and... I couldn't shake it all day.

After lunch, we went to get our Christmas tree from a little lot in Seattle. It was a subdued sort of festive. Tree day is always fraught around here and I'm not quite sure why. It has something to do with expectations (though I could've sworn I'd beat them all down with my jaded forty-three-year-oldness) and hyper kids and my encroaching S.A.D. that always seems to sneak up this time of year. Let's just say that this morning's weep fest was followed by another equally disturbing cry while sitting on the stairway at dusk.

Now that it's dark I'm better.

I've thought of so many things I've wanted to blog about lately, but haven't had the time to put fingers to keyboard.

I've lost between 15 and 20 pounds in the past six months. I'm not saying this to brag, but because it scares me a little. I haven't exactly been measuring my food or even exercising.

So, size 8 pants for a 6'2" woman. Yeah, I don't know. The baby tummy et al is gone, but ???

***

I had a HARD few days with Max this week, wherein I actually applied the word Tween to him. Everything, according to him, was stupid. He wasn't working hard or being very respectful. And then, in the snap of my fingers, he became sweet and adorable again. He copied his spelling words down neatly and was proud, he came up to me several times, wrapped his arms around my waist, and said he loved me.

Claire continues to be amazing most of the time. Her projects wear me out, but I do love that she is driven.

***

And now, something fun! Hipstamatic prints. I got 9 made and am completely jonesing for more. I don't know what I'm going to do with them yet, but I'm smitten. I'm thinking of mounting a few on bamboo and have been watching YouTube tutorials. I'll keep you posted.

Irrational want

Today I got a little obsessive about possibly buying my childhood house. It's right across the street from where my mom and dad live now. And they share a driveway with my sister (I must expand the compound!), who's agreed to property manage the home where I spent the most fraught six years of my life.

J. and I have been thinking about investing in real estate, though I don't know how much of an investment this particular house would be. Relative to Seattle, it's dirt cheap. But homes don't appreciate very quickly here either.

It would be a sentimental buy for me. A the-skylight-leaks, needs-new-insulation-and-windows but I-love-the-place purchase.

I just don't think I can ask J. for a house. That would be a slightly more extravant Christmas gift than a Kindle.

All the same, I'm considering ambling across the road tomorrow, knocking on the door, and asking to take a peek.

E-book me

I love books. I love the gritty smooth covers, the heft of the pages, the dusty/papery smell. I've railed against ebook readers. Kindles and Nooks, bah! I'll be clutching a hard cover in my greasy hands until the day I die. It will fall onto my lap with a thunk as my heart stops and my breath turns ragged and rattly.

But then, lately I don't see so well. I have to hold books out at arm's length and from there the words are tiny. Bring on reading glasses, which I really don't mind. But also, a battery-operated light because J. falls asleep before I do and I try to be considerate. I'm thinking, wow, a slim tablet on which I could enlarge the type (I realize this makes me sound positively 87), with its own built-in light source sure would be handy.

And in Seattle, you can download e-library books right onto your reader.

Let's just say, I've started dropping Christmas hints.

Getting a Kindle doesn't mean I can never read another real book. It's simply a luxury to be used frequently but not always. Right?

Then again, I loathe the thought of a library that is nothing but a sterile room full of computer servers and techies eating scones from Starbucks.

Are you a sell-out like me?

Image courtesy: Findwell

Here we are

...apologizing for our dirty houses that aren't, in fact, very dirty

...buying sweaters from Nordstrom (gasp!) and sometimes Value Village

...sneaking around like little thieves while the kids and husbands are occupied, stealing time for small things that make our hearts trill

...drinking red wine. We're sure it's too much, too often. We don't know how else to cope with this comfy life

...deciding not to understand the bad things that are coming

...taking comfort in the tucking of a curly hair strand behind our daughters' ears and the patting of our sons' heads

...watching our televisions with horror

...making believe we're 32 instead of 42

...stir-frying brussels sprouts that look like tiny alien heads

...trying to figure out if we're happy and just pretending to be moody, or moody pretending to be happy

...our eyes leaking at the slightest provocation, sometimes because of wind, and sometimes because our childrens' teachers give glowing behavioral reports

...plodding along in our part-time jobs, happy to have flexible schedules, yet not liking the corporate speak that is sneaking in to every meeting, making us feel like schmucks instead of Real Writers

...wondering when our time will come, even though it's clearly already here

Drifting

Hermit crabs

Ichiro and Sylvia

living in a Rubbermaid bin filled with dirt

Buried

Emerging only

at night

Not that I expected them to snuggle in our laps

like kittens

But the occasional pinch

might be nice

 

Crustaceans, a gust

riling

our seemingly placid sea

 

He and I argued over

Money

My lack of forethought

His absence

other things

 

Sunday night

I extracted my soul

from the shell of my body

and laid it out

Seething

hands terrified, flapping birds

Eyes streaming

The most uncalculated, honest

baring of fear and hopelessness I’d given way to

 

Then I went limp

like a jellyfish

(or naked hermit crab)

splayed across sand

 

He set me back in the water

calmer now

and paddled out after me

Exhaling

This afternoon J. and his mom took Max down to the Seattle Art Museum to see the roving Picasso exhibit. Claire and I stayed home playing Candyland (at which she cheats badly and changes rules to win).

I might've been the tiniest bit hungover from Stacy's and my day of wild Black Friday decadence. By which I mean we got makeovers and drank too many cocktails.

Hanging out with her significantly refreshed me. Not physically so much--I'm actually teetering on the brink of long, hard sleep at 9:30pm, but psychologically. Just getting out into the world with someone who makes me laugh hysterically, validates how overwhelming it is to have small children around all the time (because she is a childless woman smart enough to appreciate her independence and cluck, Yes, yes, being around kids IS tiring), and listens to me dump my worries of the moment, made all the difference.

Now I'm happy to be Mom again and sit at a Candyland board while Claire false shuffles and bottom deals. So proud!

Here are two pics of the kids that represent the best of our week. Because yes, there were some glimmery moments despite my heavy sighing and stomping around.

Snug

As the woman was going to bed the night before, she was grateful for her snug house. Her husband said, "I'm glad we're not homeless." Because the bitter wind was so constant it was almost inaudible. White noise. A dull rush.

The next day, before she imploded from too-much-kid-time-cutting-out-paper-snowflakes, she took her children to the library. The smell of unwashed people, people who needed to get out of the weather, lingered in the air like recently fried ginger.

This woman, who always felt she was toeing the line of taking advantage of her mother-in-law's industriousness, asked anyway if she'd read the kids a book so the woman could wander over to the Fiction section.

She seemed to continually seek out tomes with characters who were on the brink, chafing. Her eyes caught a title: Divorced, Desperate and Delicious. She had no intention of checking out that book, but she had to read the words again to make sure she'd gotten them right. So cheesy, she thought and browsed some more, trying to plug her nose from the inside at the same time she suffered survivor's guilt for having the house to go back to.

She heard her son's seal-like cough from across the building. He'd been up at 3 and 5 am with croup. The whole family was weary.

Two novels in hand, she made her way back to her children. It was time to go home.

Granola bars for everyone!

You know the angst I have about passing hard-up people asking for help? The ones who beg while attempting to infiltrate my psyche through my eyeballs (which, despite popular theory, are not windows to the soul, but just squishy, swimming spots of color and nerves.)? I think I know what to do about those pleading people now. Granola bars! This morning I gave one to a guy asking for breakfast money. He said, "Better than a pint, right?". Then tore off the wrapper and crammed the bar into his mouth.

So now I'm just going to keep a stash of them, and when the guilt gets to me, I'll know that at least I'm nourishing homeless people with whole grains and chocolate chips rather than just a fiver that'll end up being spent on who knows what.

NaBlow

I'm going to try NaBloPoMo again this year. Which means I'll post everyday for the month of November. I did it in 2008, found it painfully difficult, skipped last year, and am diving in again. Why? you ask. Why would Ms. Update-Every-10-Days (if that) think she can slap up a daily entry?

Well, because. I need a challenge. And I feel I've distanced myself quite a bit from this blog. I've gotten to the point, with All Adither, where I'm afraid to post normal stuff, anything less than what I think is pretty and lyrical and egregiously evocative. I've grown too fond of second-person and dark fiction.

In an attempt to get real again, I'll probably put up quite a bit of crap. I'll do my best to edit and tweak and not give you anything overtly snooze-worthy, but I can't promise it'll all be lovely pictures and slaved-over short stories.

You may have to hear about some dental work and cooking mishaps. I may whine about how hard it is to post everyday.

But if you'll stick with me through this experiment, I'll do my best to give you some good stuff, too. We'll see where it goes.