Family

Kid perspectives on what we do

I was carrying five large boxes to the curb one at a time. They were full of books which are getting shipped to Penguicon in Michigan. (Howard and I will be there in three weeks. Stop by if you’re in the vicinity.) As I was making the trips in and out of my house, I became aware of Gleek talking to the neighbor’s babysitter.

“Oh yes.” Said Gleek “Those are full of books. Our fans buy them.”

My mind stuttered to a halt to hear Gleek talking about “our fans.” I sometimes feel self-conscious talking about fans, because really they are fans of Howard and the comic strip. And they only belong to the category by choosing it, they don’t even belong to Howard. To have a fan is to have a gift, it bestows (limited) obligation, not ownership rights. But then I remembered that it we talk about our house, our car, and our food. These things become the communal property of the family even though Howard and I are the ones who pay for them. It makes sense for Gleek to generalize the source of our income. However my kids definitely have a very different perspective on where money comes from than the one I grew up with.

It’s all about the cell phones

Patch: “I know why you and Dad make comic books.”
Me: “Oh really? Why is that?”
Patch: “It’s for your cell phones.”
Me: “How are comic books about cell phones?”
Patch: “You make comics to get money. Money pays to keep cell phones connected. Cause if you don’t pay money then the only number you can call is 911.”

A better day

Last night I prayed that I could make today better, that I could get my priorities in the proper order. I did. Unfortunately that does not mean everything was smooth sailing. It does mean that we ended the day with the house more orderly. More important, half of us now have a much clearer understanding of the other half of us. It was a bit of an emotional tangle to get there, but we arrived.

The day also included hours of time spent outdoors, baths for everyone, and a haircut for Gleek. We just might survive this spring break thing after all.

Longshoreman of the Apocalypse Nominated for a Hugo

Schlock Mercenary: The Longshoreman of the Apocalypse has been nominated for a Hugo in the category “Best Graphic Story.” Howard and I are both very excited. Howard will be going to Australia to participate and pick up his shiny nomination pin. We’re not sure yet about the extent of his stay, but he’ll definitely try to do some signings outside of the convention. The kids and I will be staying home, but we are not forlorn. We have tickets to the Timpanogos Storytelling Festival. We told the kids both bits of news at the same time. The part about “Daddy’s going to Australia cause he was nominated for a Hugo” was met with smiles. The part about going to the festival was met with outright glee. It is good to know where the kid priorities lay.

Allowance, Chores, and Ice Cream

It began with Ned and his yo-yo show assembly. The kids came home from school amazed and filled with longing to purchase yo-yos. Patch was the only child who had enough money, but Gleek and Link conferenced with him. They hammered out an agreement which got yo-yos for everyone. This worked by Patch paying out most of the money. I was happy that they were cooperating, but to insure that older siblings were not taking advantage of their tender-hearted younger brother, I made a careful record of the money owed. Gleek and Link were now in debt.

The kids really have not had much money lately. This is because I tied allowance to chores and then chores slid out of the busy schedule. The debt has galvanized me into more discipline. I don’t want to have to keep track of the debt forever. Also I want all my kids to be square with themselves and each other. So chores were placed firmly back into the afternoons. And the long disused chore incentive chart began to collect squares again. The kids had been 9 squares away from an ice cream party reward for almost a year. This afternoon they earned it.

I have in my freezer three kinds of ice cream. There will be chocolate syrup, warm cookies, and sprinkles. The celebration will be merry and then they will all go to bed. Tomorrow we will continue with the chores and begin collecting squares to earn allowance and to inch ever closer to the next ice cream party. It is good.

Reading Aloud to the Kids

Lloyd Alexander’s Chronicles of Prydain are fun to read aloud. The characters are distinct and the character descriptions suggest different voices I can be using. It is fun when I’ve done a voice enough that it falls into place automatically when the character has dialog. Alexander is pretty good for this since the characters have distinct speech patterns. Pratchett is also good. One of my very favorite books to read aloud is Larger Than Life Lara by Dandi Mackall. The first person narrator has such a fun voice. Even reading silently you can hear it in your head.

I’m not sure whether my reading aloud is actually good by an outside measure. I know it is not professional quality and I am fine with that. I just need to be good enough to hold the attention of my kids and to not be completely dry at the occasional author reading I may do. However I have noticed that the reading is more fun for me when I’m doing it smoothly. I found Mary Robinette Kowal’s series on Reading Aloud to be an incredibly useful reference to help me learn new techniques which make the reading even more enjoyable.

Enjoyment is the key. I love the moments when the kids are all staring directly me at me and they’ve stopped chewing their snack because they are so enthralled by the story I’m reading. Unfortunately the opposite also occurs. I’ll be mid-sentence and enjoying the story when one kid turns to another and begins a random conversation, or someone gets up and wanders around the room, or one child pokes another. I confess to being a bit cranky at those moments. I don’t like having the flow of the narrative interrupted that way. It takes some energy to put myself back into the characters and voices. If I have to do it more than a couple of times, I’ll just declare myself done. This too is part of the experience. I accept it and pick up the book to read again the next day. It goes well more often than not. And it is a ritual that we enjoy.

The Bright Spaces

Our pear tree has gotten tall. It is out-of-control tall. This is presents a problem when it grows pears and we want to be able to pick the pears. The tree needs to be pruned. It needed pruning last year too, but I never found the time.

The pom-pommed scotch pine has gotten tall too. This is a tree that we deliberately shape into twisty branches with poms of needles. We have to prune it yearly to keep the shape attractive. I think we last pruned it three years ago. This year’s pruning will have to be drastic to get the plant back into control.

The wisteria vine along the back wall is falling off. It used to climb up the wall and drape over the top. But then the landscaping company on the other side of the wall came along with a buzz saw and trimmed everything. The vines over-balanced and are now laying heapishly at the foot of the wall. I need to prune them back to give them a chance to grow straight again. While I’m doing vines, I should do the grapes too.

I can see all of these things from my window. They are clearly visible in the bright sunshine which is trying to fool me into believing that the outdoors are actually warm. It is not warm out there. Warm remains elusive. I thought through my schedule, trying to figure when I can get outside with my saw. I decided to make tomorrow an outdoor day, but then I glanced at the weather for tomorrow. Rain. Cold rain. Possibly snow.

I used to schedule my life around the good gardening days. I watched the weather and planned. Every remotely sunny day in early spring found me outside messing with plants and dirt. Last year I missed Spring almost completely. I spent the season in my windowless basement office, scrambling to do the layout work on XDM. This spring is also going to be busy. I suspect that many of our Springs will be busy in the coming years. It seems to be part of the rhythms of the business in which we work. This means that if I am not careful I could miss my favorite season year after year. I could miss out on seeing the blooms grown from the bulbs I planted last Fall.

Today I have a bright space, a sunny day, even though it is not truly warm. Today I could go outside and work in my garden. I could also go back into my basement and do more layout work. There is always work to do. I need to plan my schedule so that when I happen upon the bright spaces in my life, I can drop work and go enjoy them. Because bright spaces do not wait for me. The joys of my young children will not wait for me. The moments when my teenagers need help will not wait for me. I must organize my life so that I can seize these moments when they arrive. Then I run outdoors to work in the sunshine.

Come What May

There was a fish in a bowl on my kitchen counter this morning. It was the first thing I saw when I flipped the switch to light up the pre-dawn darkness. I was blearily trying to process this new object when a flash of blue caught the corner of my eye. My finger nails were blue. With sparkling glitter. I haven’t been a wearer of fingernail polish since the early 90’s. Even then, blue was not a color I wore. That was some party. The thought drifted across my brain. Then I laughed at the idea of myself attending a wild party during which I did wild things. Only apparently my version of “wild” extends just far enough to paint my nails blue and bring home a goldfish. My life is pretty tame. Responsibility will do that to a person.

There really was a party. It was a mother daughter luau. Kiki stayed for the dinner, then bailed for Home. Gleek and I did all the activities. We had our picture taken, made a flower hair clip, made a picture frame, and painted finger nails. The fish were in bowls on the tables as decorations. This meant that at the end of the evening dozens of girls were begging to take fish home, and dozens of mothers were pondering the implications of adding a fish to their lives. We brought ours home in a little plastic cup. I warned Gleek that fish die frequently. She wanted the fish anyway. She cradled the cup in her lap on the way home and named it Silfer. I was glad for her to have this little living thing to care for. She would love to have pets, and I am allergic to most of them.

The fish was still swimming in the morning. So I began my usual round of morning things, starting toast, pouring cereal, making grits, doling out medication. Then I went to wake the children. I found Gleek in bed with Kiki, two girls snuggled together. I have lots of pictures of my kids sleeping, particularly when they are sleeping near each other. They used to do that a lot when they all still came to climb into bed with me. These days it is rare. Gleek called out in the night, and Kiki, who also had a bad dream, invited her for snuggles. I slept through the whole thing.

Gleek went from barely conscious to downstairs looking at her fish in less than a minute. I rummaged around on the top of our cupboards to unearth a decade old can of fish food left over from the days when we owned fish tanks. Gleek carefully placed one small flake in the water with her fish and watched intently to see if Silfer would eat. I went upstairs to poke the boys awake.

Gleek hung up the phone just as I re-entered the room. I stopped.
“Did you just call Bestfriend?”
“I wanted to tell her about Silfer.” Gleek answered. “Bestfriend will want to know I got a fish.”
Gleek was right. Bestfriend really would want to know. However I was certain that Bestfriend’s parents would prefer that this information not be conveyed via telephone at 6:30 AM. I glanced out the window at my backyard neighbor’s house where Bestfriend lives. All the windows were dark. Our phone rang. Caller ID means that Gleek’s early phone call was not anonymous. Our neighbor called back to see if there was an emergency, or a change in carpool arrangements. Because they are kind people, they talked to Gleek about her fish and only gently mentioned that later in the day would be a better time to call. Or so I inferred from Gleek’s half of the conversation. She was the one who answered the phone.

The odd kilter of the morning has continued throughout the day. Howard finished the bonus story yesterday, so he was due some vacation. We rented a movie and had a morning movie date on the couch. With popcorn. I like watching movies with Howard. Once the movie is over when have lots of fun picking at the plot holes and spinning possible patches for them. In this case the movie was 2012 and there were holes a plenty for our amusement.

The kids arrived home from school abuzz with excitement about the assembly where a guy used Yo-yo tricks to talk about practice and perseverance. Naturally the guy also sells yo-yos to interested kids. My kids were all very interested. They came home and conferenced, pooled their money, then walked back over to the school to purchase three yo-yos. I expect frustration and broken strings in the near future, but I love the way they all worked together to make it happen. I also need to make sure that the older siblings pay back the money they borrowed from Patch. He was the wealthy one this time around.

So my house is full of the smell of popcorn, a goldfish in a bowl, blue sparkling nail polish, and flying yo-yos. Had I made a prediction yesterday, it would not have included any of these things. I plan to take what comes and run with it. Although I think I’ll be running sans the blue nail polish. It’s too distracting.

School Registration

Link tromped with me into the Junior High building. It is a familiar place to me, because Kiki has been attending there for three years. For Link, the building was new. It represented a new and exciting chapter in his life. He took his map and navigated us around the school for a bit. We located the lunch room and the math rooms before the novelty wore off and he was ready to go home. At that point we’d already seen most of what he cares about. I worry for Link attending junior high, and I am excited. I love having the ability to select his classes separately. We can put him into advanced Math and resource English. He signed up for Clarinet. I don’t expect him to like it any better than Kiki did, but I think he will do better with it. He is better at practicing than she was at the same age.

Kiki flopped across my bed and thrust a hand full of papers in my general direction. It was the registration papers for high school. I sat with her and we combed through the class listings, trying to figure out what would be the best fit for her. Next year’s course load will be heavy. We have it on good authority that the Chemistry teacher believes in lots of homework. She’s also taking three honors classes (English, History, & Art.) The Honors classes will expect more from her, but I think she will enjoy them more because the other students will also be focused rather than just filling out graduation credits. The most startling realization for me was all the information on Driver’s Ed. Kiki will be fifteen in May. At that point she will be eligible for a Driver’s Permit. We’ve talked it over and the best fit for us all is for her to take Driver’s Ed next summer, so we have a brief reprieve. It still feels really soon.

I can feel the shifts. Both Kiki and Link are looking forward, selecting classes, making plans. They are both enthusiastic and optimistic. Picking new classes was always one of my favorite parts of school. The possibilities lay right in front of me and the challenges were only theoretical. In the not too far future, Kiki and Link will both reach a day when they are feeling trepidation for things to come. Next Fall will bring days when they feel overwhelmed and buried. The road ahead of us is long. We are going to get tired. But I am excited for them as they contemplate what is coming. We are all standing at the beginning of a path, wriggling our toes inside our shoes, anticipating the first steps.