Month: January 2007

Snow.

I could probably stop there since the word “snow” is a fairly good descriptor of our current winter weather. But then I would be neglecting the word “cold” and we can’t leave such a serviceable word out in the…cold. Wait, maybe that would actually be a good idea since I’d prefer that the cold stay outside rather than in the house.

It’s funny how snow in November and December is greeted with cries of glee from the children. Today they all looked at the white falling from the sky and wished for spring. Link wants to be able to wear shorts again. Gleek is tired of being stuck indoors. Patches gets cold easily and has been living in sweatshirts and sweaters. Kiki is just afraid that there will be so much snow that it prevents her from going to school next week when her class has activities planned that she really wants to do. Kiki’s wish is the only one that is likely to be granted. I’ve had kids in school for 7 years now and I’ve yet to experience a snow day. I’m pretty sure the snow has to be measured in feet before they’ll close Utah schools.

So we’ve all been striving to entertain ourselves indoors. Twilight Princess has been a huge help with this. Anyone who claims that video games isolate children have not watched my kids. Kiki is the one who actually plays. She mans the controller and beats the challenges. The other three kids treat it as sort of an interactive movie. They watch the story unfold and shout suggestions. Sometimes they decide that rather than continuing the adventure they’ll spend some time with Link-as-wolf scaring all the townspeople. This is apparently the height of hilarity. They did the same sort of thing with Ocarina of Time, only the entertainment there was attacking chickens. I love sitting down here in my office and hearing all that joyful laughter.

The laughter won’t end today either. In my my mind’s eye I can see these kids grown to adults back together again for a reunion. They’ll laugh again over the frightened townspeople. We’re not hiding from the weather, we’re building memories.

Yesterday no one seemed interested in my children’s book project. This morning Howard blogged about it on the Schlock front page. Now I have a good half dozen or more artists who have asked about the project. Being part of the Schlock team has some perks. Hopefully one of these queries will result in a pleasant collaboration.

I also spent some time today exchanging messages with people who had suggestions for our trip to Seattle in March. So it was a big email day. It’s always nice to get email when it isn’t spam.

Today the outside temperature soared into the 50s. I herded myself and the children outdoors to get some sunshine. I have to grab January sunshine when I can because it won’t be around for long. Another storm is due tomorrow bringing more cold and snow. At least I got all the outdoor Christmas lights taken down.

…and that’s all I’ve got right now. Scattered thoughts for a scattered day I guess.

I’m still looking for an artist and I’m extending the submission deadline by 5 days. Details here.

For most of my life I’ve been a girl who hangs out with guys. This tendency started very early when I realized that the people playing the interesting games were all boys. Who wants to play hopscotch when you can be playing Clash of the Titans? Because I’ve hung around with guys a lot, I’ve been present for many rants, tirades, and laments about the foibles of the feminine half of the human race. I’d listen and resolve never to be as frustrating, demanding, or confusing as the female which featured in the story du jour. But finally at the age of 33 I am coming to terms with the fact that some of these female idiosyncrasies which drive men nuts are hardwired into the female brain. I am female, therefore they are part of me and I just have to learn to live with it.

As a logical, thinking being I can do much to temper my innate feminine reactions. I do not demand gifts of flowers as proof of affection. That has always been a point of pride for me. But I can not deny how much I light up with delight whenever flowers are given to me. Also I may not demand flowers, but I do emotionally require evidence of love and affection. If Howard has been really busy and distracted for an extended period of time (say a couple of weeks) there is a part of my brain which begins to wonder if he still loves me. It is ridiculous. I know it is ridiculous. He tells me that he loves me every day. He’s stayed with me through everything for 13 years. There is no reason I should doubt or feel unappreciated, but that need for regular affirmation is hardwired into my brain. Fortunately I’ve been able to train that little affirmation requiring demon to accept gifts in the form of dishes done, hugs given, jokes shared, etc. I’ve forced that demon to recognize the kinds of gestures which come more naturally to Howard. In this I am different from many women who try instead to train men to feed their demon correctly. I’m glad I’m that much different, but no matter how hard I may try, I can’t make the demon go away, just go quiescent.

And then there is the whole issue of hormonal surges. Some days everything makes me want to cry. Things which made me happy one day will be cause for tears the next. On such days I have to recognize that the crying demon is out for a romp and just looking for a cause to latch onto. The emotions can be so out of whack with reality that it is ridiculous. I remember one time, shortly after giving birth to Kiki, I sent Howard out on an errand. It was a critical errand that needed done, but while he was gone I was throw-objects-at-the-wall furious with him for being gone. Fortunately the emotion was so far out of line with logic that I was able to recognize it and not blast Howard with it when he returned. Emotions are like that all the time. I have to examine my emotions and try to figure out if they make sense. If they don’t then I still have to deal with the emotion, it doesn’t go away, but at least I know that I’ll probably feel differently tomorrow. If the emotions do make sense, that is a different issue entirely.

So there’s my rant on being female courtesy of today being a Mood day.

At the end of March Howard will be attending Emerald City Comic Con in Seattle. We are considering making it a family vacation trip as well. We’ll be stopping in Boise on the first night because it’s approximately half way and because my sister lives there so we can crash at her house. The road from our house to my sister’s house is a familiar one, so we intend to make that a straight shoot. The road from Boise to Seattle is not familiar and here is where I’m asking for help. What sights are there to see between Boise and Seattle? We don’t mind going a little off the path for something really cool and may even consider adding a stop with enough incentive.

The kids and I will stop by the con for awhile, but probably not all day. I’ll need other things to do with the kids on a Saturday in the Seattle area. Any suggestions would be appreciated. On Sunday I’ll be locating a local LDS congregation and going to church with the kids. Howard will probably be announcing this trip from his front page as we get closer to the event. There may even be a Schlocker meetup separate from the con, I know of lots of you who live in the area.

I would love to get together with Seattle area LJ friends as well. There’s lots of stuff that can be crammed into this vacation, I’m just trying to figure out what it all is so that I can start sorting things in my head.

Last night I had the opportunity to drop everything and come to the aid of a desperate need. One of my friends had a 3 am medical emergency which required her and her husband to run off to the hospital. I went to her house to stay with her kids. In this case the medical emergency was quickly resolved. She and her husband were both back home by 8:30 am. I am so glad that she called me. I’m grateful for the opportunity to make a horribly frightening situation a little bit better.

I am grateful for this chance to give because I have so often been on the receiving end of such gifts. When I had my own medical mess 8 years ago, many people rearranged their lives to make mine easier. At the time I was simultaneously grateful and embarrassed at all the help I received. Over the past two years since Howard began cartooning full time we have received many gifts of money, toys, games, clothes, and good will for which I am always simultaneously grateful and embarrassed. But I keep the gratitude and shrug off the embarrassment because I know what it is like to give. I know how it feels to really want to make someone’s life a little bit better and to be actually able to do it. By graciously accepting needed help, I am giving that opportunity to someone else.

I miss having the funds to give. I see so many places where I would love to be able to help, but can’t afford to do so. However I do have hands which I can put to work. Last night and this morning there was a clear cut opportunity for me to physically step in and help someone; to look my friend in the eyes and say “Don’t worry about your kids, I’ll manage just fine.” She may think that she owes me something for my help, but I know that she doesn’t. I know I’m just trying to pay forward all the gifts and services that have been given to me. My friend has already given me the gift of trusting me to answer her frightened 3 am phone call.

Don’t be afraid to ask people to help you. We are all our best selves when we are helping each other.

Small actions can have huge consequences, just ask anyone who has ever seen an avalanche. I believe that most problems, like avalanches, have small beginnings. If problems are correctly managed while they are small, then the problems never proceed to the point where they are unstoppably crushing everything in their path. My whole parenting style is based upon this belief. I teach my kids to work now so they’ll already know how before they hit high school. I teach them to manage money now so they won’t be clueless spendthrifts when they have their own incomes. I make very clear that hitting and biting are unacceptable expressions of anger, to prevent having a violent teenager or adult.

It’s a good theory, but the reality is much more complex that what I just described. I just gave the clear cut examples. So many other parenting decisions are more murky. For each decision I try to peer into the future and figure out what the possible repercussions might be so that I can make the best possible choice. Say that Gleek doesn’t want to go to Kindergarten. Letting her stay home may allow her to have a welcome day off so that she’s ready to go back the next day, or it might teach her that school is optional and she can get out of it if she throws a big enough tantrum. If I make her go to school she might settle in and have a great day, or she might be angry and resentful all day long, causing difficulties for her teacher and classmates. Which is the right choice? I can’t tell at the moment of choosing. All I know is that the choice takes me irrevocably down one branch of the possibility tree. Tomorrow I may be faced by exactly the same choice, but I will be in a slightly different place because I’ll have yesterday’s choices behind me as a precedent.

Patterns matter more than incidents. I’ve said that myself many times as I try to come to terms with an unpleasant event. I believe it is true. A single incident of leaving Gleek with her teacher and walking away while she cries for me, does not carry as much weight as the many days when she trips off happily to school. BUT if the incident is big enough or traumatic enough, it will be remembered. This is particularly true with younger children who thrive on patterns, but remember incidents. We all create stories about our lives based on the things we remember. What if the only memory that Gleek retains about Kindergarten is being abandoned there by her mother? What will that older Gleek tell herself about her Kindergarten experiences? So incidents do matter. I can’t let incidents just stand by themselves. I have to talk them through with the child. I have to try to make sure that the conclusions which the child draws from the incident are ones that will give the child good options for the future. But even talking over incidents is a choice with possible repercussions. Kids don’t like to be talked or moralized at. They may choose to shut me out and limit my power to influence their thoughts.

Then there is the case where I am deliberately attempting to set up a pattern. Link just acquired a retainer which will help his jaw grow a little larger to fit all of his teeth into a neat row. From where I am standing, this seems the best possible choice for him. But I can’t deny the possibility that there may be a variable that I can’t see from here. Perhaps growing his jaw will misalign his teeth, creating a need for braces rather than preventing a need for them. Perhaps the mushiness of his speech won’t go away after a week. Perhaps he’ll learn bad speaking habits from constantly having the retainers in his mouth. Every day I see him put his retainers in his mouth and one or more of these thoughts flits through my head. I watch the retainer go in and realize that I am choosing to let it continue because I still believe it is best. I will probably continue to believe it is best until I’m either proved right or shown to be badly mistaken. Either way the evidence will only arrive after it is too late for me to reverse course.

Every day I make hundreds or thousands of seemingly small parenting decisions. The odds are good that at least some of those decisions will cause me problems in the future. I try to stick to firm trails and watch my step, but it will not be the steps that I’m watching carefully which will bring the grief. I can’t know if I’m doing this parenting thing right until it’s too late for me to go back and fix things. So I live with this gnawing sense of failure because I know it is impossible for me to get it all right. A day like yesterday when I stomp furiously off the path leaves me wondering if I can handle this job at all.

Then yesterday was followed by this morning, when Patches took himself to the toilet sans prompting. Somehow despite my agonizing and self doubt, my kids continue to grow and thrive. They find happiness and achievements that are completely unconnected with anything I say or do. Then I wonder if my actions carry as much weight as I fear that they do. Perhaps instead of watching all my steps carefully I need to look up from my feet, take my children’s hands, and watch the scenery as we walk together.