Month: January 2007

Today is Gleek’s birthday. She has been counting down in anticipation ever since Christmas ended. As of today she is now 6 years old. It makes me want to snuggle her close because I’m running out of time for her to be little. Fortunately she was in a snuggly mood this morning so I got some of those extra snuggles. She was very agreeable about getting ready for school today. She wanted to be there on time because they announce birthdays over the loud speaker and she didn’t want to miss hearing her name. While she was at school I took Patches to buy supplies for her birthday party on Saturday. Then Patches and I arrived at the Kindergarten class with a couple dozen donuts to share with all of Gleek’s classmates. I loved getting to watch her feel special and important as she handed out the donuts.

The next item on our birthday agenda was a trip to the shoe store. Gleek is by nature a barefoot child. She will shed her shoes at the slightest provocation. This means that her shoes need to be so comfortable that she doesn’t think about them. If she thinks about her shoes, she’ll kick them off. It seems like we’ve gone through dozens of pairs of hand-me-down tennis shoes and we’ve only found a couple that truly fit her. Part of the problem is that I keep thinking her feet are bigger than they are. We had them measured at the store. She’s size 10 1/2. Most of her shoes are size 11-12. Size 10 1/2 is still in the toddler section which seems wrong for a six year old, but she’s tiny for her age. Anyway she needed shoes for church and shoes for school. I decided to make her birthday the occasion for buying brand new shoes.

Gleek loves the shoe store. Within moments of entering she found the sparkliest, most bead-encrusted set of flip flops that the store had to offer. She declared her undying love for these shoes. The school does not allow flip flops. None of the elementary schools in our area do. Flip flops just aren’t safe footwear for kids who will spend recess playing tag around and on top of a jungle gym. Flip flops have become acceptable dress shoes these days. I see them at church all the time. Only these particular flip flops were absolutely gaudy. I decided not to argue about the flip flops and set about selecting church shoes for her to try on. Then Gleek found big floppy, fuzzy, rainbowed slippers with hair two inches long. Gleek declared her urgent need to own these slippers. The slippers were a women’s size 8, but Gleek kept declaring that they fit perfectly as she shuffled up and down the aisle to keep them on her feet. I didn’t argue about the slippers either. Instead I had her put on various church shoes and run up and down the aisle to see if they would work for her. She liked that part. We picked out shoes that will work for church. Then we repeated the process for tennis shoes.

We had reached the point where it was time to leave the store. I had no intention of taking home the gaudy flip flops or the fuzzy slippers. Fortunately Gleek found a rack full of inexpensive tastefully sparkly flip flops. I consented to let her have a pair of these on the condition that the fuzzy slippers and the gaudy flip flops stay at the store. When I sweetened the deal with some colorful rainbow striped socks, she agreed. She wore her shiny silver flip flops home.

Later tonight we’ll have dinner and family gifts. She’s getting a pair of fairy wings from Howard. I can just picture her now in her pink clothes, rainbow fairy wings, and silver flip flops. That’s my Gleek age six.

A selection of Breathe (2AM) by Anna Nalick:

You can’t jump the track, we’re like cars on a cable
and life’s like an hourglass glued to the table
no on can find the rewind button now
So cradle your head in your hands
and breathe
just breathe
oh breathe
just breathe

Theres a light at each end of this tunnel you shout
cause you’re just as far in as you’ll ever be out
And these mistakes you make, you’ll just make them again
if you only try turning around

2 am and I’m still awake writing a song
If I get it all down on paper its no longer
inside of me threat’nin the life it belongs to.
And I feel like I’m naked in front of the crowd
cause these words are my diary screaming out loud
And I know that you’ll use them however you want to

But you can’t jump the track we’re like cars on a cable
and life’s like an hourglass glued to the table
no on can find the rewind button now
So cradle your head in your hands
and breathe
just breathe
oh breathe
just breathe

Howard got a new ipod for Christmas. He bequeathed his old one to me. I’ve been sorting our music library and setting up my own playlists. I found this song among our music files and it really speaks to me. I make mistakes. We all do. When I do the best course of action for me is to just breathe, let it go, and move on. This is particularly important at those times when I’m inclined to berate myself for my errors. The times when I’ve lost my patience completely. I love how singing along with the chorus is very much like taking long slow breaths. Singing along with this song soothes me.

Blogging and writing stories are very much like the verse about song writing.

And so I close my eyes to sing and breathe. For the span of the song I am someplace else. Then when I return I have renewed strength to try again.

	Experiment Week #5 The blue plant and the magenta plant finally decided to sprout. So far the colors on these plants are no different from the thriving control plant in the middle. I’ll continue to water in colors to see if it affects the colors of the eventual blooms.
	Long shot on Experiment Week #5 This picture shows how tall the control plant gets. At the very top of the plant you can see some of the blooms.
	Paperwhite blooms on the control plant week #5 This is a close up on the blooms of the control plant. You can see they are very white with orange centers.
	Bulb Basket Week #5 This is the last picture I’ll be taking of the bulb basket. The quantity of blooms from this has been somewhat disappointing. I don’t think that the daffodils will bloom at all. It was interesting to try though. Perhaps next year I’ll put some tulips in the basket and see how they do.

For my sixteenth birthday I went roller skating with a group of friends.  Then we all went home and had a slumber party.   It amuses me that for my 34th birthday I went roller skating and then I came home to my brother’s house for a slumber party.  The slumber party even had the requisite hyperactivity (from the children) and abundance of laughter (from the grown ups.)  We didn’t spend half the evening on the phone calling boys, which was a required activity for teenage girls, but I don’t really miss that part.  

I like rollerskating.  I like it enough that I’m tempted to get my own pair of roller skates so that I don’t have to suffer from the roller rink potluck.  On the other hand, how often do I go skating?  I’ve gone three times lately, but I don’t know if that pace will keep up once the weather warms up.  Our sidewalk is sufficiently bumpy that I don’t think I’d enjoy skating on it as much as on the smooth rink.  Skating is good exercise.  I need to be getting more exercise, but it doesn’t have to be skating.

The remainder of my birthday included balloons, streamers, presents, candles, and a nice dinner at a restaurant.  The dinner was provided by Howard.  The rest came courtesy of my sister-in-law.  I think that the last time I had balloons and streamers for a birthday party, I was 9 years old.  It was fun.  Howard felt guilty that he hadn’t done more advance planning for my birthday.  But honestly he didn’t need to do any more.  He demonstrated through words and actions (and vocalized guilt) that he really loves me and wants my birthday to be a happy event.  I got to get out of town to a place where I didn’t have to plan my own birthday party.  It was fun.  I don’t know if we’ll do my birthday this way again, but for this year it was perfect.

Today is my birthday. It is also Lewis Caroll’s birthday.  Over the past two years I’ve developed a livejournal tradition of posting a story or imaginative essay here to commemorate both events.  The first two such entries can be found here:  http://sandratayler.livejournal.com/59852.html and here: http://sandratayler.livejournal.com/127561.html.  For this year I wrote a little story it is kind of a rough draft, but I’ve run out time to edit:

“You can’t get rid of that!”  hissed the diamond-eyed demon from his perch on Jodi’s shoulder.  “What if you need it later?  Besides, Aunt Beth made that had for you.  You can’t get rid of something that Aunt Beth made!”

“But it’s an ugly, lumpy, poorly made hat.”  The pallid demon coughed out from Jodi’s other shoulder.  “You’ll never wear it.”

“Aunt Beth made it just before she died.”  hissed the first demon.

Jodi sighed and returned the hat to the drawer where it had spent the last 10 years.  The diamond-eyed demon cackled with glee and gyrated it’s green body in a victory dance.  the other demon sagged even more limply and surveyed the cluttered room with resignation.

Oblivious to both the rejoicing and despair, Jodi creaked to her feet to answer the doorbell.  Both demons settled in for a nap.  They weren’t much interested in visitors, unless the visitors also brought gifts.

“Thank you so much for coming Tricia!”  Jodi said as she opened her door to an older woman with greying hair.  “I tried to get some done before our appointment, but I can’t even see where to start.”

Tricia’s eyes flickered to the demons on Jodi’s shoulders as she spoke.  “Jodi, it is my job to help people get organized.  We won’t have any trouble at all.” The demons rustled uneasily.  It was almost as if this Tricia could actually see them.

“I thought we could start in my bedroom.”  Jodi said as she turned to lead the way upstairs.

Quicker than a cat, Tricia’s hand snaked out and snatched the green demon by it’s wings.  It barely had time to blink before she dropped it into her purse and zipped the purse shut.  

“Excellent idea.”  Tricia responded as she tucked the purse under her arm.  The diamond-eyed demon’s howls of protest were muffled by the layers of faux leather.  Tricia looked around the cluttered bedroom.  Her eyes lit upon the hat.  She strode into the room and picked it up. “Let’s start with this.”  She declared.  The pallid demon sat up with interest.

“That’s the hat my Aunt Beth made for me right before she died.”  Jodi said dutifully.

Tricia pinned Jodi with her eyes.  “Do you wear it?”

“No.”

The pallid demon remembered his duty and repeated his earlier mutter.  “It’s an ugly, poorly-made hat.”  

The other demon shrieked from the depths of the purse, but it was impossible to discern any words.

Tricia raised an eyebrow.  “Do you even like the hat?”

“You hate the hat.”  hissed the pallid demon frailly.

“No.”  Jodi mumbled.  “I’ve never liked it much.”

“Then we get rid of it.”  Said Tricia firmly as she tossed the hat into the large empy box labelled Goodwill.

The pallid demon on Jodi’s shoulder sat up straight.  It focused it’s intent gaze upon the new ally, Tricia.  A slow grin began to appear on the demon’s face as item after item went into the Goodwill box.  From within the depths of Tricia’s purse, the wail of the other demon grew increasingly frail.

I was sitting in my brother’s living room when Gleek and her four year old girl cousin came prancing into the room.  They were all decked out in princess gear complete with dresses, tiaras, and wands.  Patches followed along on all fours wearing his normal clothes.  I listened as the two girls spun a story about how they were the most beautifullest girls ever.  Then they went to a ball in the kitchen to meet the prince.  There was a brief effort to press Patches into service as the prince.  He didn’t want to be a prince.  He wanted to be a puppy.  He was quite adamant about being a puppy.  Confronted with the prospect of a barking, panting prince, the girls decided to make do with an imagined prince.

I listened to see how they would solve the problem of a single prince for two princesses.  I expected them to conjure a second prince into existence, but Gleek just declared with a wave of her hand that the prince just married both of them.  Apparently Prince Charming is a polygamist.  This would explain why he features in so many different fairy tales.  Won’t Cinderella and Snow White be surprised when they find out?

The obligatory ball-and-wedding having been dispensed with, the two princesses and their puppy trooped back downstairs to do other princess things.  Poor imaginary Prince Charming was abandoned in the kitchen like the prop that he was.

My head is full of thoughts, but most of them are related to a task list rather than thoughts than I can spin out into elegant prose. It’s kind of a shame. I like it when I write well. Those are the entries that I really enjoy re-reading. But today my head is much too full of laundry and no matter how beautiful the clothes are, when they’re all crumpled together in a pile they’re just laundry. Hmm, that analogy really works because I’m sure that if I can pick out some of my thoughts and shake the wrinkles out they’d probably be beautiful and profound, but right now they’re all jumbled into a heap. What is it about laundry baskets that the one item of clothing that you really want disappears into the middle of the mass never to be seen until you finally cave and just fold everything in the basket? Would that I could pick all my thoughts out one by one, fold them neatly, and then store them away. I could have a whole dresser full of story ideas just waiting for me to pull them out. Another dresser could be full of thoughts on parenting. But alas my brain is very like my house right now. It looks like someone turned it upside down and shook it.

Tomorrow we leave for my brother’s house. The kids are excited. I’m glad. Howard is stressed because he feels like he didn’t get enough done this week and now he is out of time. Howard rarely feels like he got enough done even when he has scripted, pencilled, and inked an entire week of comic in one day. This week he has done enough to hold the buffer steady which is good. But we’re both feeling pressure to get the next book moving. This trip to Pocatello negates the possibility of doing any work on the book this week. I feel bad for messing up Howard’s work schedule, but not bad enough to cancel the trip. It’s been ages since I went anywhere for my birthday.

Since we’re departing tomorrow, today was meant to be a day of house cleaning. I’m having trouble getting moving on that. I seem to be low energy and distractable today. It may have something to do with my diet. I’ve been cutting out junk food and adding more vegetables. I think my body is protesting the change. Or maybe it’s an after effect of too little sleep for much of the week. When I’m seriously short on sleep my body goes into a high-energy crisis mode where I’m really effective. I can only pull it off for a day or two before I crash. There are some other factors involved too because sometimes when I short myself on sleep I can’t function well the next day. I got enough sleep last night which may have signaled my body that we were out of crisis mode and thus it could start demanding even more rest. Hopefully I’ll be able to kick into gear this evening because I’d like to be able to come back to a clean house rather than a jumbled one.

In November life around here was pretty stressed. We were getting ready for the launch of the second Schlock book and business concerns reigned supreme. There were lots of little sacrifices of family time to feed the engine of business. In December we eased off on the business stuff and put the family stuff back in. It felt so good that we did the same for most of January as well. Unfortunately this has now put us behind our intended schedule for the next Schlock book.

Just this week I have made contractual negotiations with an artist to illustrate my children’s book. Creating this book is going to take 3 months of emailing to discuss the pictures. I am thrilled about this project. I am overwhelmed by this project. It is breaking new ground for me and I’m nervous. There is so many ways for this to go wrong and just as many wonderful ways for it to go right. I’m tempted to go babbling to Howard with every care and concern about this project, but I have realized that if I do so I’ll be taking up the space in his brain that he needs to put toward creating his book. Since Howard’s books are the ones that pay our bills, I really need to not interfere with their completion. In fact I need to get my head back on straight and aid an abet the completion of the next Schlock book.

Being more focused on helping Howard get his next book out does not mean abandoning my projects. I just need to make sure that my projects stay out from under his feet. I also need to make sure that my projects do not interfere with the daily getting-things-done that is necessary to keep life running smoothly. Oh but I want to just ignore laundry and dishes and children to chase the shiny project. I mustn’t do that. I need to keep everything moving.

I just realized something. I always have a project in process. The type of project varies greatly from “keep the house perfectly clean” to “writing a story” to “planting a garden” to “teaching Gleek to read.” Right now I’m enthusiastically chasing this book project, but I’m also trying to psyche myself up to be really excited about facilitating Howard’s book. It’s working.