when they become more than just your kids

My friend Maria has a little girl. I laughed when Angelina was born, telling Maria she had better keep my number because she is going to need to call me when Lina is fifteen. Fifteen year old girls aren't a lot of fun, from a mom's point of view.

Oh, but twenty-something daughters are the very best thing anyone could ask for... or at least they are all I could ask for.

I have two. They are polar opposites. It has always amazed me they came from the same parents, grew up in the same household. They weren't treated the same, I admit. How does anyone treat all their children the same? I have these friends who say, "oh, I loved them both the same..." and I mutter to myself, "oh, baloney!" Can't be done. Or I couldn't do it... I loved and do love them both passionately, but not the same. My hope is I love them the way they need to be loved.

My girls have become my role models. They have taught me I can stand up for myself and say 'no' in a very quiet but firm voice. They have shown me how to travel, how to enjoy an adventure, how to be okay with no agenda. One has shown me how important food is in life, and the other how to be fragile and strong all at the same time. One makes me laugh and the other makes me feel blessed all the way to my bones.

I have heard from them both today. One to tell me that P. pooped in the potty - High Five, Pete! - and my eldest, who let me know she is taking care of herself - and I think, good, good.

The two most important people in my life... and tonight they are both doing okay.

changing gears

I went to the library after school today. I needed to return, like, fourteen books that were soon to be due. Most of them were picture books or kid-art activity books... in other words mostly books for school. Today I feel so done with that... or at least so done with thinking about it at all once I leave the building.

Also I am nearing the end of this romance novel. I don't really care for romance novels... they are all so the same no matter how well they are written. My Aunt Jean sent me the one I am reading. She told me the dialogue was amazing... hmmmm, the dialogue is good... but, but, but... the formula is the same and this one, besides the non-stop amazing sex, has a serial killer who mutilates his victims... ick!... so I know the killer is going to nab the heroine and the swashbuckling testosterone male will save her... but I feel this tension as I read. I am so not into more tension.

So today at the library I checked out:
The Energy of Prayer: How to deepen your spiritual practice by Thich Nhat Hanh
Walking Meditation - TN Hanh
Touching the Earth CD... TNHanh
Peace Mantras CD
and (this is the one I am really excited about!)
Goal Free Living: How to have the life you want now.... Stephen Shapiro
Honestly, I don't even know if I will read it, but I just love the title.

And last, because I was going through old photos the other day and felt ancient in comparison to the ten-years-younger me I was looking at, and because a boy told me today, "You should do something with your hair." When I replied that I was thinking the same thing, what did he suggest? He looked at me and scrunched his nose and replied, " You need to go to a hairdresser and do something about your color." (Hmmm, I thought there were bigger issues than color here...)
Anyway, I also checked out Makeover Miracles by Michael Maron. I could find no hair miracle books.

So, except for the little fixer-upper read, all the rest are there to just make me happy and serene.

And tonight is my water yoga class where I will be told to breathe and stretch and relax.

Ahhh

disconnected

I am feeling very disconnected lately. Maybe this is how anyone would feel who only talks to children all day long. Or maybe this is how someone who is just floating feels. Not exactly in a vacuum... I have felt that way... Just like I am not a part of anything. Mostly this feels like a great big rest from all the self inflicted crisis of last year... but part of it is beginning to disturb me. Maybe.

Look, this year I like my job... or at least it is going smoother, than ever. The little kids, the big kids, the big kid's attitudes... all manageable really. But then my principal pops in to see me. Honestly, I think it was a friendly visit but dang, she gets me riled up. All this stuff about narrative report cards. Jeez, Lori, I see so many kids in such fast succession I don't even know every one's name let alone how and why they have or have not met the standards. Deep breath.

So, I do fine during the day, mostly. And when I get home I high tail it to water aerobics. I think I am addicted to water aerobics. I joined in part to meet people, and I have... but that is about all. I see them, say "hi"... bounce around in the water, chat a moment or two while toweling off and then we all head to our respective homes. So far no real camaraderie happening there.

I am planning on joining a hiking club. I need to get out of town and that is a good way to do it. I even have the club selected. They begin in September, when the weather becomes more tolerable.

But all of this still feels like filling in the blanks... like stuffing, but not substance...

How do you find substance? How do you know what to do next? Hmmm... I am hoping the what to do next things just wanders by (SOON!) and taps me on the shoulder. One thing I know for certain, I am not going searching any time soon.

Reading Montana Sky by Nora Roberts... predictable romance novel format... maybe that is why I am a bit restless... all that sex and swashbuckling testosterone might be getting to me.

dry heat

One of the stock comments about the summer weather here in Phoenix is that it is a dry heat... and this is sort of true in May, June, and into July... but come the last weekend in August it is just plain hot... and humid, at least by Arizona standards... and the only thing you should be doing is sitting in front of the fan with the air conditioning blowing nicely. But, needless to say, that is not what I have been doing.

Right after church today I picked up a friend and we headed to do some new-home-model browsing. We were interested to see the landscaping, the colors, the decorating touches they were using... for instance I saw a flag stone walk where the flags were set rather far apart (lowering the cost) and in between it was set with concrete and smooth river stone. I can use this idea at my daughter's house. She has a pile of flagstone at her house that needs to be reset... our goal was to get back early enough to still have some day to ourselves and we did it. I arrived home at 12:30, but on my answering machine was a call from another friend I have been trying to get together with, so within minutes I was out the door again to meet J. for a smoothie and a chat. With that accomplished I stopped and I filled my gallon water bottles and hit the health food store for a gallon of aloe vera juice. So, I have been outside, or at least out and about for most of the day. Not the best idea on a day like today.


But now I am home and a romance novel is calling my name. Time for some rest and rejuvination.

my dad

This is my dad. He was being a really good sport here and put on a mask I had unearthed in the storage room that serves my art classroom. I had brought it home and on the day we celebrated my youngest's birthday everyone tried it on, and Dad was so hysterical that I just had to take a picture.

This is the last picture I have of my dad... I need to take more.

He is in the hospital tonight with a blood clot in his groin. I just came back from seeing him and he seems fine. The same tell a joke, make light of everything kind of guy... but there is this dangerous thing in him... and it scares me.

The doctor came into the room while I was there. A man with an accent, a man of color, a very nice man... and he asked my dad a series of questions. Did he smoke? Does he drink? Is there any history of clots or heart disease in his family? No, maybe two a week, no. How many children do you have?

Dad says, "Two. I have been pregnant two times... how many times have you been pregnant?" the doctor tells him, "Two."

He asked him about his difficulty breathing and how well he slept at night. He asked about surgeries and prior illnesses. He asked all the right doctor questions and Dad answered them all honestly... except he lied or just forgot that he did have a fever in the past week...

Then Dad asked the doctor where he was from. The doctor replied, " Where do you think I am from?" And I looked at him, really for the first time, and thought, "No, he is not from India." But my dad said, "Ethiopia?" and the doctor said, with a bit of surprise, "Just to the north of Ethiopia"... or maybe Northern Ethiopia... He told my dad that no one had ever guessed correctly before. He asked him how he knew... and Dad said he had met a couple of other fellows from Ethiopia and the accent sounded right.

How could he hear so clearly?!? I was pretty amazed at my father right then. The doctor was impressed, too.

He told me I had a fine father, and a healthy one... and then I said something disparaging (why why why?) and the doctor said, "No, he really is a fine man."

The doctor told me they would keep him in the hospital for three days. Tomorrow I will go stay with my mom, although I will only be there at night, after work. Dad will worry about her less that way.

I will miss two days of water aerobics and one day of water yoga... I know this is self-centered of me, but I really hate to miss my water aerobics.

When I left, I kissed him on the top of the head and told him to behave... why didn't I say, "I love you Dad."

I am afraid. My dad is supposed to live. I want him back in his chair lecturing me with all his wrong-thinking conservative Republican opinions, so I can tell him I just can't talk to him any more...

But then... none of this is up to me.

Sunday

I need to work on lesson plans today. I brought home a stack of papers that need to be organized into complete thoughts and then reformed into something that flows into a day to day plan for an art project.

I have just finished the first rotation - a ten-day sequence of classes that changes continually through out the year. I now have a feel for all the grades levels and for the flow of my schedule.

I need to work on my fourth grade lesson. In the last two weeks I taught African masks from the seat of my pants. I heard one by say, "Boy, I didn't know art would be so fun in fourth grade!" and another boy gave me a note telling me much the same thing. Wow! I am not used to such praise. I feel like the bar has been raised a bit. I know what they liked about the project. That, I think I can duplicate. What I don't really know is what they learned. So today I will work a bit at developing little mini lessons, sound bites, to pepper here and there with hopes that some of these take seed as knowledge and understanding.

I also need to look more closely at my 6th grade plan. Last year they came to me in the morning. This year they come the last period of the day. That change in schedule dictates that I change how I teach, so last year's plans must be modified. I need to make it the class more user friendly. By the end of the day a quiet sixth grader can turn into a snarling, resistant participant. I have come to realize I no longer have a defense system that protects me from mean people, so I need to find ways to engage the whole crowd. I am going to take a clue from my excited fourth graders and look at ways to make the projects more "fun." I have been looking at a book on the art of Jacob Lawrence, I think this may be the direction I choose to take.

I have had a couple of other revelations today. My green dress that I have worn to church for the last couple of years is noticeably tighter. The website www.cowboylegendsofsantefe.com has a couple of pairs of boots I really like... so the boot fetish is still alive. The scripture reading I am scheduled to do today at church has one non-sensical sentence and that really bugs me. And that I am beginning to feel really whole, and I hope this feeling lasts a long long time.

in the mess, I am at peace

No pictures today...

I fly to Portland tomorrow. Need to be at my parents house at 4:30 a.m. to take us all to the airport. I think that means I need to be up by 3. Me-oh-my... that is early.

I have started back to school. Returned from New Mexico on Sunday and met 8th graders at my classroom door at 8:30 Monday morning. So far so good.

Funny, my attitude has undergone a shift, I think. Last year I spent nearly the entire time completely stressed out over whether I was going to stay in my job or retire, and right now I feel almost mellow.

I have no teacher's desk... they ordered a new one for me and took mine out, thinking the other would arrive before I did. Wrong. But I am completely not bothered.

My computer is not working... but then I have no desk to put it on... and I just look at it and kind of chuckle because I have noticed that someone has plugged it into a socket that I know from last year does not work.

I forgot how kindergartners are the first day of school. In the thirty minutes they were in my class I think I said "stay in your seat" about fifteen times, but by the end of the period when I asked them what my rules were, they chorused, "Listen and stay in your seat!" Of course it will be months before I can really get them to listen or stay in their seat... but they are beginning to get what I would like.

A little first grader cryed yesterday and today. He was here last year, but he has been home all summer, protected from the great big world of school. He told me between sobs that he was feeling "stressed out".

Today, at the end of the day, I thought, "Three days down..." and I told someone that when this year was done, I only had three more to go... if I actually got that far.

Also today, Cheryl told me they think her husband has lung and bone cancer... they are waiting for results. I talked to my sister and she is feeling cut out of her daughter's lives now that she has married and moved away, and her husband is not well either. Then I talked to my youngest who has been dealing with company and transmissions, and because she would like another baby and her husband does not, so today after she gave away their high chair she went to the humane society and got a kitty.... the kitty's name is Rocket. So tonight I have been praying for all these people who are suffering one one level or another... that some movement of the spirit gives them comfort and hope.

Some of this makes me wonder what am I waiting for? Am I waiting three years and one hundred and seventy-seven longer for my life to begin... but, you know... I think my life has begun... and it is going somewhere... and I just need to relax and be attentive to the ride.

Tomorrow I will be in Oregon with my parents and attending a wedding on Saturday. Who knows what interesting things I will encounter along the way.

color, texture, yarn!

I absolutely love color and texture... I think I have mentioned that before. This whole color texture thing got me into knitting... and into a bit of trouble in the yarn department. I have a couple of years worth of yarn. I need to either a. quit working entirely and just knit, b. learn to knit a lot faster, or c. form a yarn club of some sort... Anyway, I frequently swear off purchasing any more yarn and usually find it pretty easy if the only stores I go into are Joannes's or Micheal's... but one of the towns we went through on our New Mexico trip was Los Ojos... and there, wouldn't ya' know, was Tierra Woolshttp://www.tierrawools.com/, just waiting to snare me.



Let me explain. Los Ojos is not the kind of town you would just drive into and say, 'wow, there must be some great yarn here'... No. It is a tiny, not overtly affluent little hamlet set into the rolling hills of north central New Mexico. But there is was, a yarn shop, within minutes of our campsite...

















I knew from the moment I spotted the sign on the roadside that there was a reason to take a closer look at Los Ojos, but driving down the main street of the town I could not have expected the wonderful place I would find. Tierra Wools sits on the northern edge of the town, within walking distance of the old Catholic church that serves as a landmark in most of these little villages. As I got out of the car and climbed onto the wooden side walk which fronts the building I began to see woven goods and hanks of richly colored yarn through the window. Once inside I found blankets and rugs, woven shawls and felted hats... and yarn. Hand dyed wool... hand dyed wool where the color moved and shimmered in the light. Beautiful wool. Wool that felt like the finest merino to the touch.



I couldn't resist. One skein, two skeins... beautiful tones that reflected the rare light of the rock, the plants and the sky of New Mexico. I also found that Tierra Wools offers weaving classes and wool dying classes.... I promised to return. When I got Back into the car, we took a picture of me with my new stash.




Oh, my! I cannot wait until I am home again and can begin to knit these beautiful colors together... and I am thinking about taking one of the weaving classes Tierra offers maybe next summer...