Month: July 2007

In this area wasps are something of a plague. Every year we have to eliminate multiple nests from our deck railing and even more from our wooden fences. We put out traps and catch them by the dozens, but this has no visible dent on the population as a whole. For some reason the wasps particularly like our red maple tree. In July and August you can watch as dozens of them hover around the tree.

This year there are no wasps. I have not seen a single nest on our property and I’ve only seen two flying around that I can recall. This is such a drastic change from the norm that I have spent some time wondering about it. I’d heard that there was a horrible bee virus sweeping across the country. The virus apparently kills whole hives. I wonder if this same virus kills off the wasps too.

The wasps were a nuisance to me. I didn’t like them. But the abrupt disappearance of all of them is a disruption in the local ecology and I wonder what the further repercussions will be.

When you decide to become a parent there are some things that you expect. You expect to have to deal with diapers and potty training and tantrums and piano lessons and carpooling and a million other things. The reality is always somewhat different from the expectation, but at least you expected it. But there are other things. Things which never occurred to you prior to actually arriving in the middle of them. Things like explaining to your disbelieving daughter that she will indeed have to deal with this unpleasant feminine cycle every single month. Things like being 8 months pregnant and chasing your naked giggling toddler down the street. Things like having a child deliberately poop on the floor on purpose to make you mad. But, of all the things I didn’t know I signed up for when I had a baby, the one that haunts me most often is nail clipping.

In the hospital you look at the tiny fingers and toes and you marvel at them. Little do you know that you will soon be forced to take blades to those cute little nails and trim them off. If you do not, those cute little nails will be sharp little claws that will rake you bloody. Babies of course object to nail trimming, so they don’t hold still. More than once I’ve accidentally drawn blood while trimming the nail from a small digit. Then the child becomes mobile and can run away when the nail clippers come out. At various points I have cajoled, bribed, pleaded, and physically restrained various children to get their nails clipped. Link objected to nail clipping so strenuously that I would sneak in and clip them while he slept.

At 12, Kiki is finally in charge of her own nails, but this is a fairly recent development. For awhile I was in charge of 20 little digits for each of my kids. If I added in my own nails, that comes to an even 100 little nails for me to trim. Each and every one of those nails had to be trimmed at least once per month. That’s a lot of nail clipping. It is particularly annoying when Link would turn nail clipping into a 40 minute emotional ordeal. He has thankfully gotten over his terror of nail clippers. Also he has figured out that if he tears the nails off, I don’t have to clip them so often. I think Gleek is nearing the end of needing me to clip her nails for her. She loves nail polish and is trying to keep her nails nice so that they look pretty. This works for awhile, but then inevitably she plays in the sandbox or climbs a tree and makes them all ragged. Then we trim them off and start over again. Patches is fairly content to let me cut his nails as long as I only clip through 90% of the nail. He likes to pull them the rest of the way off by himself. He makes a little game out of it. I’m not sure what the game is, but it involves explosions and the nails going “Aaaaaah!” as they fall from his fingers.

So let this be a warning to all potential parents out there. The diapers are done within 3 years or so, but the nail trimming lasts much longer than that.

Every day is full of events. Most of the events are very small. This past week was full of large events. Large events always fill my brain full of things to talk about. But now my brain seems to have emptied out. I’m back to the trickle of ideas prompted by small events. This is not bad, really. I was so busy last week that the only writing I got done was blogging about events. Now I’m back to having space to contemplate less hurried writing. This would be happy except that I seem to be currently in a mood where nothing I write seems to be worth much. The mood will pass. I know it will, but it doesn’t make me motivated to write things today.

My mother offered my kids $5 for each one-page story they wrote for her this summer. The kids took full advantage of this generosity while she was here. Gleek wrote two storys. Patches wrote a story. Link wrote three stories. Grandma duly paid them. Then they had money burning a hole in their pockets. Today I took them to a store to spend it. Gleek acquired her very first potholder loom. Patches bought a magnetix toy. Link got a coveted set of pokemon cards. Then we fled the blistering heat to our air conditioned house to enjoy the loot.

New toys make for a quiet afternoon. By tomorrow they’ll be bored with the new stuff and I’ll have to find them something else to do.

The Provo Freedom Festival is a big conglomeration of events. It includes contests and beauty pageants and fireworks and parades and an art’s festival. This last, the art’s festival, includes closing several downtown streets and letting vendors set up booths to sell their wares. I love the idea of an arts festival in open air, but I’ve never gone because that kind of setting is a nightmare for keeping track of small children. It is also guaranteed to make every child in range come down with a bad case of the screaming gimmies, causing them to demand every treat in sight.

This year I finally got to go because my parents volunteered to watch kids while I wandered off for awhile. I picked a time in late afternoon when the sun was not so scorching hot. It was very pleasant to wander through the booths just looking at things without feeling compelled to buy anything. I even stopped to chat with a man who was selling the books he had written.

There is something about the air at a festival like that. Everyone was there to enjoy themselves. For a moment I just stopped and felt the wind as it brushed past me. I looked around at the variety of people who passed by me. There were people dressed to the nines with coifed hair and perfect makeup. There were people with shaggy hair and raggedy clothing. There were people with black hair, piercings, and eyeliner. There were bikers and beauty queens, and stay at home moms, and business men, and families, well dressed kids, and ragamuffin kids, people with different skins and cultural dress. All of those different people gathered together for the purpose of enjoying the day. Naturally, not everyone was happy. Some kids were screaming, some couples were fighting, some people looked hot and miserable, but all of those things just added to the flavor of the event. There is an energy about a gathering of people who are intent on enjoyement.

I loved my own lack of agenda. I had no where in particular to be. I wasn’t seeking anything in particular. I was just there to observe and participate. As I walked I heard Debra Fotheringham performing in a pavillion. I stopped to listen for awhile, delighted to find a familiar face in the crowd. The familiar music was a joy as well. I wished that I could have stayed to talk to her after she was done singing, but Howard joined me and we needed to go and eat. I learned later that she spotted us in the crowd. If I’d known that, I definitely would have stayed to talk for awhile. Ah well. I’m sure I’ll bump into her again since we have lots of mutual acquiantances now.

After dinner Howard and I left the festival behind and went back to Dragon’s Keep. The Keep was hosting an all night game fest for whoever wanted to stop in and play. This was because it is right on the parade route for the Grand Parade. All up and down the street people were camping out to save places for the parade. Hundreds of people were wandering around chatting and just enjoying the pleasant nigh air. Again there was festival in the air. I did not spend all night at the keep. I only stayed until 12:30 because I needed to be home to get the kids up for the parade. But part of me wishes that I could have stayed. It was such a happy place to be. There were so many good friends to talk to. It was like being in college again when I did not have children to be responsible for.

I drove home down the parade route, past crowds of people all wandering about and partaking of the festival air. I wished I could stay. That freedom from responsibility is an experience to be relished. Freedom Festival indeed.

My Dad likes to take people to movies. Mostly I think that he likes to see movies and wants to share that joy with his family. So it came as no surprise when he suggested taking the kids to go see Shrek 3. I don’t take my kids to movie theaters. It is expensive and tends to be very frustrating because Gleek can not sit still. She is honestly incapable of remaining still when she is excited by something new. She will sit wonderfully still for the first half of a movie, but after that she just has to move. This used to mean that she would be running up and down the aisles and climbing on any available railing. She’s gotten better. Now she just bounces in her seat and kicks her legs constantly and furiously. Somehow the physical motion helps her concentrate on the film.

Fortunately for everyone, we had a row to ourselves. I put Gleek down next to me and let her kick and bounce to her heart’s delight because it didn’t bother anyone else. It worked pretty well. I’m still not going to take my kids to expensive movies, because if I pay that much I want to be able to fully enjoy the show. However, I may take them to some of the discount shows that are available locally. Maybe. If I’m feeling up to it.

The kids all really enjoyed Shrek 3. I didn’t as much, but that’s okay. Mostly I was along for the trip to help the kids have fun being taken to the movies by their Grandpa.

I was sitting in my front room typing on my computer and relishing the fact that my Dad finally got my laptop to consent to communicate with our wirless network, when my Mommy Radar pinged me. I became abruptly aware that I was not sure where Gleek was. I constantly track the locations of my children even when my conscious attention is occupied elsewhere. This tracking is accomplished primarily by corner-of-the-eye sightings and by ear. I knew that Kiki, Link, and Patches were all watching Scooby Doo, but Gleek was not there. I went looking and found her asleep in bed. Apparently getting up early for balloons and parades combined with staying up late for fireworks is enough to wear a little girl out. It wears out little boys too. Not too long later I found Patches asleep on the floor of the family room.

It has been a very busy couple of days. I already wrote about the Balloon Launch. The parade was not so awe inspiring, but it was good fun. I particularly liked getting to sit in a chair on the shady side of the street rather than on hard concrete in the sunshine. This luxury was provided by the good folks at Dragon’s Keep who blocked out a section of ground for the use of Dragon’s Keep customers. It worked out well for Dragon’s Keep too. Several of my kids and my parents all spent money there after the parade was over.

As soon as we entered the van to go home from the parade, Kiki began angling for us to attend the city fireworks display. We haven’t gone to it for about four years. We used to go every year. Howard would camp out early in the day and we’d haul carloads of picnic stuff. We did that for 10 years, but around year 8 we stopped enjoying it. It became a burden rather than a joy. All the preparations and hauling and most of all the horrendous traffic jam to get home killed our joy in the event. It took as an additional two years to realize that we didn’t want to do it anymore. So we haven’t gone for four years and Howard and I have been happier. But Kiki was longing for something a little more exciting than fireworks in the street. She’s been longing for it for a couple of years now. Then my Dad volunteered to buy tickets to attend the Stadium of Fire. This had never been an option for our family since seats cost $45-$125 apiece. Howard was exhausted from his all-nighter at the Keep and couldn’t go. I did not want Gleek or Patches to go since they would not be able to sit still. (I don’t even take those two to $7.50 movies let alone $45 events.) Howard was too tired to watch kids, which meant someone had to stay with Gleek and Patches. In the end it was my Dad and my two older kids. That turned out to be just right. A part of me regrets passing on the chance to sit in the stadium and see the big fireworks, but I don’t regret spending the time with Howard and my two younger kids. Maybe I can hit a big fireworks display for July 24th which is a Utah state holiday.

Link does not like loud noises. He never has. This is especially apparent around the Fourth of July which seems to be all about loud noises. As a baby Link would huddle in my lap and I’d cover his ears so that he wouldn’t cry. When he got a little older, he’d watch Daddy light fireworks out one of the windows. He wanted to see, but he didn’t want to hear. Last year we went to the local parade and Link spent much of the time with his hands over his ears because every vehicle honked, every band played, and a cannon boomed. On Tuesday we watched hot air balloons launch and Link was afraid. I realized that it was the sound that was affecting him more than the sights. I pondered this and I pondered our intention to attend the parade again. Then I dug around in the garage for Howard’s shooting headphones. These things are designed to protect ears from the sound of nearby firearms detonations.

As soon as we arrived at the parade I handed the headphones to Link. At first he was confused, but when I explained why I wanted him to wear the headphones, his eyes lit up with joy. He plunked them on his head and didn’t take them off except once when he checked to see how loud things were without them. He was able to sit on the front row and enjoy the entire parade instead of wanting to flee from the cacophanous noises. I also sent the headphones with him to the huge fireworks display. Again he was able to enjoy the show without being overwhelmed by the noise.

The very coolest thing about this event is that it demonstrates to me and to him, that he is not inherently fearful. He is having a physical reaction to loud noises and we’ve been interpreting that reaction as fear. He isn’t afraid at all. That knowledge gives us tremendous power. As he gets older he’ll be able to identify the reactions and label them as something besides fear. He’ll be able to take actions to correct the difficulty without feeling helpless or fearful. For today, I’m glad that a set of red headphones allowed him to enjoy the Independance Day activities.

There was a huge chaotic bustle trying to get Kiki and Link out the door. They were being taken to The Stadium of Fire by my Dad. After the chaos of shoes and jackets and directions, they finally piled into my van and drove off. I turned from the window and asked Howard if it was silly of me to be anxious. He said it wasn’t, but I still felt silly. Logically I knew that they would get there fine, find parking, have a great time, and come home safely despite horrendous traffic. But I worried. I worried about each of those steps. I worried that Link would be frightened by something and I wouldn’t be there to talk him through it. I worried about even more unlikely things. But the potential good from the experience far outweighed the unpleasantness of my anxiety.

I sat in the kitchen and sorted through my anxious thoughts. I addressed them individually with logic and stowed them away. Under all the layers it came down to the fact that sending my children off to a major public event with my father isn’t something I’ve ever done before. The very newness of the event made it outside my comfort zone. It is hard to let go and let the kids fly, even when they’re ready. The anxiety sort took me about 20 minutes. Then with all the anxious thoughts tucked safely away, I proceeded to have fun lighting off small fireworks with Howard, Gleek, Patches, my mother, and some neighbors. We had a good time. Kiki, Link, and my dad had a good time. All was well and none of my worries came to pass.

It seems like I have to go through this kind of process frequently. I come from a long line of worriers. They seem to have bequeathed to me a voice which mutters darkly about all the worst possible scenarios. That mutter can be nerve wracking. The only solution I’ve found is to yank the voice out into the light and to require it to speak to me clearly. The articulated worries often become obviously ridiculous. Then I can dismiss them. If I can’t dismiss the worry outright, I can still create an action plan based on the possibility. Then I file the worry and action plan where they’ll be ready if I need them, but where they don’t have to clutter my conscious mind.

My brain is as noisy and chaotic as my house and in as much need of decluttering.