Not Calm (dot com)

Antie Jen (that's me)

Max is a sweet, sweet baby.  He's content and likes to be outdoors.  At six weeks (but born a couple weeks on the early side) he was already struggling to hold his head up while the adults around him said things like, Well that's a huuuge noggin.  That's a virtual planetoid. 

Max is a lucky guy.  His parents don't seem like they've never done this before.  The whole time I was there, there wasn't any stress at all.  I know that they are putting a huge amount of effort into caring for him, but they do it so gracefully and cheerfully that it seems like he's their fifth kid.  Even after a night of being up every two hours.

It's been a forever six years ago since I had a baby.  Now she has a couple of grown up teeth and mutters damnit under her breath when we run out of mini marshmallows.  Max is so teensy; he still spends his awake time stretching his limbs like he's underwater, studying faces, sticking out his tongue.

Part of my intention on this trip was to let my brother and his wife get out for a dinner alone, or a movie or something.  The first 24 hours I was there, so was my mom, finishing up the last of her weeklong trip.  Even though we live less than a mile apart, I hardly ever get to see my mom without my kids around, so it was nice to have a quiet visit.  Mostly we just took turns holding the baby and talking about how cute he is and about how much I barfed when I was tiny.  She took us all out to dinner at this swank neighborhood cafe close enough to walk to.  We timed our outing around Max's nursing schedule, and as we started down the sidewalk I remembered how much I liked being on that stripped-down newborn schedule: a two hour loop of nursing and rocking, burping, changing, napping, that goes on for weeks.  

Max came along the next night to a ten table sushi restaurant, and the next afternoon to a barbecue.  Portland was gorgeous, all flowers and sun, and it stays light a little later up there. 

 

My brother asked me what I'd like to be called.  When we were little (and still) we didn't ever use the word Auntie.  It was always Aunt.   We leave out the U sound, though, and say it Ant.   So now, when Max is six and his parents are wondering how the time went by so fast when so many of the days felt so long, he'll be calling that lady in California who likes to spoil him Antie Jen. 

Well hello there

I've been up since 4:45 this morning, probably because SG and the kids were all telling me to sleep in for Mother's Day, really, really late, so they'd have time to make me breakfast.  You can't get out of bed before ELEVEN, I was told.  SG is amazing in the kitchen, but the kids seem to grow extra limbs that flap around and get in their way the moment their feet hit the (crappy) linoleum.   Stuff in the kitchen?  It goes flying a lot when they're in there.  Plus, the kids are supposed to get the kitchen and living room cleaned up this morning, and that could take a good long while. 

I did try and get back to sleep, but by 5 I was up, folding the towels in the dryer from yesterday's beach trip and putting a bunch of sandy pants in the washer along with the last scoop of laundry soap.  I put the dishes in the sink into the dishwasher, cleaned out the French press, put on the kettle.  Then I went out to the trash to toss the laundry soap box, and there just above the hills was this beautiful shiny silver coin of a full moon.  It was so quiet out (if you don't count the chirping birds) and the sky was getting lighter. It sounds dumb to admit that I was surprised to see the moon in the sky, but last night on our drive home from the beach we saw it, too, all golden just through the trees.  I came back in to the house, Alex sleeping on the couch because I couldn't catch the big bug that was flying around his room.  He sleeps on the top bunk and the bug was liking the ceiling, so I don't blame him. 

Yesterday I went in the water, just for a little while, while SG got the grill going for our supper.  I was warmer in the water than I had been on shore (my wetsuit is super kickass), and looking down the beach it seemed like I was the only one in the water.  I can't surf yet, but I love taking SG's boogie board out so I can do my Wave 101 training.  Yesterday the best waves to ride always came close on the back of another one.  They didn't come in very often, but I knew that when I could see two swells right together that the back one would be fun.  On the beach in front of me there was a guy with a stunt kite and a cigarette in his mouth.  It took two hands to work the kite.  There was a woman, too, in long pants and long sleeves, sitting with her legs crossed and her eyes closed.  I assume she was meditating, soaking up all the ways that the ocean is beautiful that have nothing to do with how pretty it looks.

I could have stayed in the water for hours, but there were four sandy kids and one incredibly patient man waiting for me up on shore.  Just as I decided to go in, I saw something move near me in the water.  I thought it was a swimmer for a second, and it was, but it was a harbor seal, not a person.  Actually, now that I'm thinking about it, it may have been an otter.   Either way, suddenly there was this smiling whiskery wet brown slick face looking back at me and pausing for a moment before swimming away.

Earlier in the afternoon, SG and the boys went boogie boarding, Alex for the first time.

 

I forgot my camera (and the ketchup and mustard, warm clothes for Nathan, and the girls' beach toys) but I had my phone with me so I got a couple of pictures of them.  They seem to love it as much as I do, even though Nate got tossed around and hit his head on a stone in the sand. 

Just now I went to get more coffee, and there was Alex, cleaning up already, telling me that I couldn't come in, that I needed to go back to bed.  I offered to help him get things cleaned up, but he shooed me away and kept working.  I think, maybe, that I'll climb back into bed and see if I can sleep a little bit.  After all, I wouldn't want to disappoint the kids if they are actually willing to clean up for me.

Happy Mother's Day.

Favorites

One of my favorite people went and took photos of some of my other favorite people.   Go see. 

love thursday: best day ever

more on love thursday here

Last weekend Lex was in all four performances of the school play at the jr. high.  I forgot to take his photo, of course, because I am Mother.Of.The.Year.  I worked in the cast room for two of the performances.  My job?  To keep the kids "quiet."  Seriously. 

Anyway, I didn't have anything for Nathan to do during the Sunday afternoon performance, so SG offered to pick him up and take him to the beach, even though grad school and work are both demanding most of his time right now.  Even though he'd taken Sophie and Nate for dinner the night before while I spent hours hissing at a bunch of teenagers that they were getting too loud. 

They headed over the hill with their wetsuits and fins, a couple of boogie boards, flip flops.  Nate caught his first real wave, and SG said he swam out around the jetty like a pro.  They got hot chocolate after, and then went to SG's parents' house where they had steak for supper.  Nate came home so happy and proud.  I caught him several times that night with a smile on his face when no one else was looking.  He's been having a rough time of it lately, and some days my heart breaks over and over for him.

Lots of days, lately.

Monday he was helping me make supper.  We stood in the kitchen together, not saying too much, his sisters running through all silly every few minutes.  Mom, he said to me, what's the best day you ever had? 

Oh.  That's a tough one, I said, a sudden kaleidescope of days rising up from my memory.

Okay, then.  The best year ever.

I looked at him, thinking that before too long he wouldn't be looking up at me when we talked like this, standing by the stove, but I'd be looking up at him.  This year's been pretty great so far, I said. 

Yeah, he said.  And, yesterday was the best day I ever had. 

Good, I said.  Let's make a lot more of those days, okay?  I think there's always room for more.

And, I've been thinking about that all week.  About recognizing the best moments when they happen.  About paying attention to them, figuring out what, if anything, makes them fall into place.  Searching out clues on how to make more of them.  Sometimes it's as easy as stopping what you're doing, putting on some music and getting your kids to dance with you in the kitchen.  Reading a chapter from a book, even when it's already past everyones' bedtime.  Stopping to listen, or talk, snap a photo, write a note.   I think it's not the doing that's so hard, but the remembering to do.  First you have to forget how busy you are; forget that idea of not having time for something, for a few moments or hours.  Days sometimes.   That's when the good stuff shows up; the stuff that makes all the work worth it.

photo by Nathan

I just pretend to be a crankpot

Weekend before last the girls and I spent a few days in the woods with no electricity, no cell phone reception, and no showers.  Also, about 300 Brownies and their moms.  I bitched and moaned about going (not in front of my own campers), even though I figured once I was there I'd have fun.   It was the getting there that  made me crabby; it was far enough away to be Far Away, and I had to put a stack of backlogged badges and patches on their vests before we could go.  And, there was a big all-caps, totally bolded-font warning in the handout that said: ANYONE WITH ALCOHOL AT CAMP WILL BE ASKED TO LEAVE IMMEDIATELY.  So, you know, I pouted and thought about bringing cough syrup with codeine, because, come on, all that time with all those kids and no breaks?  Mama needs a little cocktail at the end of the day so she doesn't get all cranky lioness-y and start taking swipes at the kids' heads.  Just sayin.  In the end I decided it would be kinda bad to be the mom who got sent home for having a flask of tequila at Brownie camp, even if it was the good stuff and even if I didn't share with the kids. 

We stopped by SG's house on the way out of town Friday night for some supper and chocolate bars and snacks for our trip.  We drove and drove -- Highway 17, Highway 1 -- and then took a five mile unpaved road that was so bumpy things were flying all over the inside of the van and the girls yelled from the back seat, We can't hear our moooovie! 

We arrived after dark, but in time to make our situpons and find our troop and get the car to the right campsite.   We slept in what I call platform tents: little wooden decks with canvas tents on them.  I got the cots made up and pushed together so I could sleep next to both the girls, which meant not only scrunched into a sleeping bag with my timid Willow, but also on the two metal bars of the cots.  It was awesome, especially the part where I had to pee all night, but was too cold and too tangled up to get up and trek to the bathrooms down the hill. 

In the morning, we woke up to this view:

It was a really, really pretty place to spend the weekend.  There was a dining area where everyone met for meals, and they even asked ahead about food issues and had gluten free stuff for me and about six little girls with celiac/wheat allergies.  They had gluten and dairy free chocolate cupcakes for us, and fruit sorbet.  I will totally sign up for extra slots to work at cookie sales next year -- I was truly grateful. 

We hiked over a hill from our campsite, and down into a fern covered forest so we could walk through the wishing tree and look for fairies.  You make your wish as you walk through the tree trunk, and if you walk back through it the other way, your wish comes undone.

 

I think both the girls wished for a puppy.  I did, too.  Until we move out of this house, though, we are SOL.

There was a bitty little creek, so we hiked down and looked for four leaf clovers and fairies.  

We went to a session on how to build a fire, but instead of using real firestuff to do it, we used shredded coconut, pretzel sticks (and, dude, they had gluten free ones), candy corn, and Tootsie Rolls.

At night, we sat around the campfire, stamping our feet to keep warm, and toasting marshmallows.  The girls sang, and while some kids went for more traditional songs, my girls were with the bunch singing Katy Perry and Taylor Swift.   With hand motions.

 

I was ready to head back home on Sunday, mostly because we hadn't really been warm since we got there. 

 

But also because it's just not right to go so long without a shower.   Even when you're camping.

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