Month: August 2008

The parking lot was nigh full, so I had to park by the playground. This meant that walking in to the school involved coaxing Gleek off of the playground equipment. “I’m not going to play.” She assured me. “I’m just going to climb over everything.” Never mind that this required Patch, who was jumping with impatience to meet his teacher, and Link to wait for her traverse to be complete. My cries of “No playground.” fell on deaf ears and I was left to decide whether to make an issue of the disobedience or to make allowances based on the excitement of back-to-school night. I let it slide. I probably let things like this slide too often. I need to work on that.

Patch’s teacher met us at the door with a scavenger hunt sheet and a box of crayons. Patch has spent the last five days telling everyone “I have a nice teacher.” This assurance was imparted by me when I told him about her. Now it is fact, just as his teacher’s name is fact. Patch carefully selected a blue crayon from the box extended to him. We then set about the serious business of finding the coat rack, the cubbies, the bathroom, and the parent sign-up sheets. At each stop, Patch would carefully fill in the box with his blue crayon. After we’d seen it all, Patch returned to his teacher to trade the crayon for a sucker, also blue. And we were done. Patch will get a more thorough orientation on the day he comes in for his kindergarten assessment. On that day, the teacher will have time to pay attention to just him. For now, I am just glad that he has the teacher who is organized and structured. Patch needs organization and structure.

Link’s class came next. Within moments of walking into the room, I knew that my decision to have Link switched to this teacher was the right one. The teacher’s face lit up when he saw Link. With a big smile and a firm handshake, the teacher said “Wow, you’ve gotten big! I remember you when you were in Kindergarten! I think I still have one of the pictures you drew.” This teacher was Link’s kindergarten class aide. Then he was the PE teacher for the whole school before he settled in as a fifth grade teacher. He fell in love with Link in kindergarten and still loves Link now. I can not do better than to put Link into a classroom where he is already loved. Not only that, but this teacher is a high energy, enthusiastic teacher as well. I think Link will have a great year. Fifth grade is US history, and who better to learn that from than a man who loves it so much that he participates in re-enactment groups.

We pulled Link away from his teacher because Gleek was ready to vibrate out of her shoes. Gleek has not one, but two teachers this year. The two teachers trade off teaching because one is a reading specialist. This is good because they’re going to need to team up to manage the class list they’ve got. Whenever I get together with other mothers who have kids Gleek’s age, we posit that there must have been something in the water that year. I’ve never met a group of kids that has such a large quotient of high-energy, determined, distractable, people. I know of at least four kids in Gleek’s class who have the potential to become behavioral issues if they’re not handled carefully. Gleek heads that list. Gleek dashed into the classroom, intent on finding her desk, but was instead lured to the reading platform with its beanbag chairs. She climbed railings and jumped off of the steps. She located her desk and made note of who else was in her class. She barely looked at her teacher and she did not stop moving. Hopefully she got it out of her system today and on Monday she’ll be ready to sit still. I greeted the teacher. Link had her years ago, so she recognized me. I did not try to give her a briefing on Gleek. There was no point this evening. The teacher was overwhelmed with too many kids and parents today. I’ll talk to her in either a week or a month. It’ll be a week if there is an Incident during the first week of school. The lack of an Incident means that Gleek is in angel-child mode and is probably the best behaved child in the class. Then I’ll have to wait for when Gleek has worn out the angel-child and has settled in, otherwise I’ll only get strange looks when I try to explain why my angel might need special attention. I’m really hoping for the angel-child route because it means that the structure of the classroom is working well for Gleek. If it is not working well, we’ll all know in very short order.

The playground was traversed once again on the return trip to the car. Again I let it slide. Sigh.

Earlier today I went on a solo trip to Kiki’s school. She got accepted into the advanced English/History class that we wanted for her. This required a complete re-shuffling of her schedule. Fortunately all the electives she wanted still fit. She is having a very eclectic year. Eighth grade is a good time for her to experiment with new things before settling in to take the classes she’ll need for college admissions. I was very pleased with the staff at Kiki’s school. Everyone was wonderfully kind and accommodating. Kiki is also going to have a good year I think.

So now we’re all ready. The starting bell on the new school year rings Monday morning.

The kids are delighted to be home. They are expressing that delight by getting out of bed dozens of times, shouting “mooom!” every three minutes, laughing, teasing siblings, squabbling, shrieking, dissolving into tears because I insist that they change into pajamas, flopping about on the floor like helpless little fish, refusing to eat, clinging to me liked over-sized barnacles, and being angry with the world in general. These are children in sore need of regular meal times and bedtimes. I’m not complaining about the care they received at my mother’s house, which was excellent. In fact I have been informed by several children that life would be much better if we could all go back there and stay forever. They want more of the garden of delights, but they need normality. And it is my job to provide it for them whether they want it or not.

I’m starting to remember why it felt like such a blessed relief to only be responsible for myself for 10 days. I’m also starting to realize why Howard was completely wiped out by the end of four days of convention while I was tired, but still had energy to burn. I’ve had years of endurance training. (Also I think Howard runs hotter at conventions and I got more breaks.)

Four more days until school begins. I have four days to wrestle the kids into a sleep schedule that will allow for breakfast and getting dressed before school begins at 8 am. I have four days to stabilize life around here so the transition to school can go smoothly. In good news, Link was transferred to the class of the teacher who already loves him. Also Kiki has been put into the accelerated English/History program so she’ll actually be challenged this year. Now we just have to shift every other class in her schedule around that switch.

Link spotted me only seconds after I saw him through the crowd debarking from the plane. His whole face lit up and he began to run. Fortunately he is still small and nimble. More fortunately still, the distance was short and not many people were in the way. I did not remonstrate him. I was too busy holding him tight. Kiki crashed in to join the hug right behind him. I held them both tight and was whole again. Partway whole. We still needed to navigate baggage claim and meet my brother in the parking lot to trade two nephews and a niece for my remaining son and daughter.

The moment our arms relaxed from hugging, the shower of chatter began.
“I got to drive a go-cart!”
“You should have seen Grandma…”
“I was too short, they wouldn’t let me drive…”
“Look at this!”
“I got one too!”
“The beach was cold!”
“…and then we laughed because it was too big!”
“there were waves and they…”
“…in Chinatown and I bought…”
“Grandpa got it for me!”
“I missed my house.”
“Can we find a restroom?”
Five young voices all ran at top speed, completing each other’s stories, vying to tell the cool bits. One story crashing on top of another until it was all a wash of cheerful noise. We navigated through the airport, collected bags, and found my van. They missed me, I missed them, but everyone had a marvelous time while we were apart.

Gleek and Patch were less exuberant about greeting me. They were far more occupied making sure their new treasures were properly transferred from their Uncle’s car into mine. But there have been hugs since. Many hugs. My heart felt like the creaky fingers of a long-clenched fist, now able to relax. When they were gone, I put the mother part of myself away for awhile. It was necessary. The mother revolves around the children. Without them she has only grief. But I was able to unpack her last night because the kids came home today and now she is needed again.

We arrived at home just as Howard did. They each gave him joyful hugs. Then the children scattered. Kiki and Link found video games to play. Patch and Gleek ran through the backyard to find their friends. Howard looked around and said it well “They missed normal as much as they missed us.” It is true. The kids had a wonderful adventure. I’ll be hearing it in bits and pieces for months to come, but for now they are just glad to be at home. I am glad that my house is full of the joyful noise of children playing, singing, squabbling, and shouting “Moooom!”

When I looked at the travel schedule and realized that I would be at home a full two days before the kids, I expected to spend those days sad. I expected to actively miss the kids and lament their absence. Nope. It has been so nice to decompress from the convention in a quiet house. My brain has been so busy sorting, and accounting, and unpacking that I’m almost as busy as I was during the convention. But I’m almost done now and so it is good that the kids will be home tomorrow. I think I did much of my missing of the kids in advance. For today, I will revel in getting to watch a non-kid movie in the middle of the afternoon. Even more luxurious, it is a non-Howard movie as well. He scoffed at me when I rejoiced in getting to watch my movie on the big downstairs TV.
“Your movies don’t need big sounds. Your movies are for sipping drinks out of small cups.” Howard isn’t an old movie person. I am sometimes. I certainly like them better than anything Zombie. So I’ll take my little cup and watch my movie while the kids are away and Howard is off drawing things at Dragon’s Keep.

I am at home. I slept last night in my own bed. The car is unloaded and the unpacking has begun. The mental unpacking has begun too. I just flooded all the poor people who read this blog with a pile of new entries transcribed from my convention notebook. The house is very quiet without the kids, but this is good for today. I have a chance to clear all the convention stuff from my brain so that when I see them on Wednesday, they can have my full attention. I did do a little bit of Mommy stuff this morning. The kid’s class assignments arrived. I was delighted with Patch’s kindergarten assignment. He got the teacher I wanted for him. I had to double check with Gleek’s former teacher about her placement, but it looks good as well. Link’s placement is a good one, but it is not the teacher that he and I had hoped for. This teacher is one who was Link’s classroom aide when Link was in Kindergarten. Several times during the course of the year, the teacher took time to tell me how much he enjoyed Link. So I went down to the school to fill out a form requesting Link be switched to this teacher’s class. I don’t know if it will work, but it is worth a try.

Next I need to dive into post-convention accounting. My accounting folder is overflowing with stuff to do.

Being at a convention is a little bit like being sprayed with a fire hose. There is so much going on so fast that it is impossible to catch all of it. This experience is reflected in post-con blog entries which tend to be just a list of people met and events attended. The blog author is just trying to make notes of everything that happened before life moves on and pieces are forgotten. These entries serve as a Cliffs’ Notes for the person who attended the con. The entry is intended to serve as reminders for larger stories. I’ve written my fair share of Cliff’s Notes blog entries. I always intent to come back and fill in the gaps, but life moves on and I find myself blogging new things instead. For this Worldcon I decided that rather than try to capture all the people and events, I would try to capture my mind state or the feel of the day. This seemed to work well both for the blogging and for reducing my stress level. I did not feel compelled to try to collect every detail and keep it in my head. Instead I just let it all wash over me to see what would stick. it was an enjoyable way to experience a con.

I am not used to talking to hundreds of different people in a day. All these conversations cover many of the same topics and so I found myself re-using jokes and anecdotes. Some stories got used in almost every conversation. I do this because I it got a good reaction last time and I’m hoping to reap the same return energy. However, over the weekend, conversations begin to blur and I forget who I’ve already told a particular joke. So I find myself halfway through a story, wondering if this person already knows the ending.

At then end of three days of convention, I leave feeling like there is still fun to be had. Part of me is sad to go. After five days I’m pretty burned out. I’ve had a great time, but I’m ready to be back at home. It’ll be nice to be where all the days and all the conversations don’t blur into one long con-warp.

I talked to all of the kids last night. They were all glad to talk to me, except for Gleek. She was too busy watching Avatar on TV. I can tell that they are having fun, but they will be glad to be back at home. We’ll all be together again on Wednesday.

Closing down the booth and packing out went far more quickly than I expected. The dealer’s room closed at 2 pm and we were on the road by 4 pm. We stopped for a dinner at Johnson’s Corner on I-25. Wonderful place, I really recommend it if you are driving between Ft. Collins and Denver.

I never pictured myself attending the Hugo awards, but I was there last night. I got to see Mary Robinette Kowal win the Campbell. I got to see John Scalzi win for his Whatever blog. I got to be sad that Phil Foglio did not win for best artist. I got to laugh at Robert Silverberg’s comments, which are surely available on You Tube by now. I was delighted when “Blink” from Doctor Who, won for best short form dramatic presentation. Now I want to re-watch Doctor Who. After the event was over, we went down to the front to congratulate the winners. Howard got to hold John Scalzi’s rocket.

Phil and Kaja were charming and cheerful about their loss. We sat at a table with them and Alice and Mike, swapping funny stories. Howard related the tale of Gleek’s woeful phone call earlier in the day. Then Phil made me laugh until I cried by offering horrible ways I could have responded to my daughter. “I’m sorry you’re sad, but mommy loves science fiction more than you…” It went on from there. I wish I could remember more of it, but I was laughing too hard to retain any information. The words played right to all the back-brain guilt I felt about not being there when Gleek needed me. I needed that laugh. It was wonderful to have all my hidden guilt dragged out into the open and made funny. Both Phil and Kaja Foglio are wonderful people. If you’re not already reading Girl Genius, you should be.

We walked Phil and Kaja to their after party, then we went in search of the the Baen Books party. Howard had been invited to go by Toni Weiskopf. I finally got to meet her, but didn’t really get a chance to talk because the party was so loud and crowded. I can tell I’d love to talk with her at length. All the Worldcon parties I attended were crowded, hot, and noisy. It was a little frustrating because the room was full of interesting people, but it was hard to talk to anyone. Fortunately we found space to sit and the rooms cleared out after awhile. That was when we were able to relax and really talk to people. I have many people with whom I want to keep in touch. Thank goodness for business cards. Once I’m home I’ll go through my stack.

I have not read blogs or comments since my first day in Denver. In fact, I’ve hardly had time to sit at the computer. Most of these blogs are being hand written in a notebook during quiet spaces at the booth and being typed in later. (You know you’re really a blogger when you hand write blog entries.) I had to stop reading stuff on the internet. The convention is providing so much food for thought that I’m having trouble processing it all. Adding information from blogs to my brain would result in a total overload. I wouldn’t be able to retain it all. Fortunately blogs are patient. They will wait for my brain to be quiet again.

I haven’t been calling the kids daily. I did on the first couple of days, but they were having too much fun to come talk to me. After that, the quiet spaces in my day were either before the kid got up or after they’d gone to bed. In some ways that was easier on all of us. today I finally got the meltdown phone call. Gleek was crying that she just wanted to go home and have me there. I spent 20 minutes on the phone talking with her, being sympathetic. After she wound down a little bit, she told me that my aunt, who raises pigeons, wouldn’t let her keep an egg. Then Gleek lay out plans for building a cage around our spruce tree so that the pigeons could build nests and raise babies. Then we could make scrambled eggs with the extra eggs. After detailing her plans, Gleek was happy again and tripped off to watch a movie. It took me a little longer to pull myself back together. I’ll be glad to get home too.

People keep asking me why I don’t just bring the kids with me to the convention. I know I could. There is on site child care. The kids would love to come. I’m fully capable of managing the logistics. The primary reason I don’t is that I get stressed by having to wear multiple hats simultaneously. I can’t be full-on business woman if I have kids nearby. I end up fractured, feeling like time spent on the kids is wasted for business and time spent on the business feels stolen from the kids.

We intended to go to three parties. We found enough people to talk to that we only made it to two. The Tor party was afflicted with a horrible smell. This was not the fault of Tor or anyone at the party. The entire room smelled like someone had murdered broccoli and left the body to decay. We did not stay long. Instead we camped at the SFWA hosted Analog/Asimov’s party. Larry Niven made an appearance there and Howard got the chance to talk to him for awhile. Larry is not a conversationalist in the same way the Phil Folio is, but he was charming and Howard was able to tell a joke that made Larry laugh out loud. I’m so glad we got a chance to meet him and shake his hand.

I love the conversations I have at this convention. I love being able to talk and listen to other adults who are passionate about the same things that I am passionate about. I love the amazing people we meet. And I can not deny how satisfying it is to watch some people, who looked right past us on the first day, now focus on us with respect for what we’ve accomplished. Howard is not a big fish in this ocean, but he is not a guppy either. That is nice. My position is mostly secured by being Howard’s right hand. But last night I got the chance to talk about my projects and accomplishments that are separate from Howard’s. That was a nice ego boost.

It was past midnight when we returned to our room. I didn’t want to leave the party. It was still in full swing and I was having fun. But I knew that if I did not get sleep today would be miserable. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to settle into sleep, but I crashed quickly once I lay down. In the few quiet minutes before sleep claimed me, I reviewed conversations and events. This has been a marvelous trip. I’ve many many new friends that I’ll need to follow up with after the con is over. But no matter how wonderful all of this is, I’m starting to feel ready to go home. This is beautiful and glorious, but it is not my life. I don’t want to stay here forever. I will enjoy today and tomorrow as much as I can, but I will be glad to get back home.