Robyn Davidson, Tracks
Wednesday, September 9, 2015
The last paragraph was the best part
The trip was easy. It was no more dangerous than crossing the street, or driving to the beach, or eating peanuts. The two important things that I did learn were that you are as powerful and strong and you allow yourself to be, and that the most difficult part of any endeavour is taking the first step, making the first decision. And I knew even then that I would forget them time and time again and would have to go back and repeat those words that had become meaningless and try to remember. I knew even then that, instead of remembering the truth of it, I would lapse into a useless nostalgia. Camel trips, as I suspected all along, and as I was about to have confirmed, do not begin or end, they merely change form.
Monday, August 31, 2015
A slight miscalculation
Saturday night during bathtime, as I watched Alice wash herself, I said, "You're turning into such a big girl!"
To which she asked, "Am I a big girl now?" (pronounced: gull-er)
"yes!"
To Alice, though, a being a big girl is synonymous with being fully potty trained. All summer she's resisted potty training since she's still little. So after her bath she was pretty incensed that I was putting a diaper on her. "But I'm a big gull-er!"
Sigh.
Now that school is in (can I get a hallelujah?) and she's finally ready, in her words, "to be trained," she's actually cooperating with it. Makes all the difference in the world.
I'll leave school for a separate post for another day, but let's just talk about kissing for a minute. Peter kisses, specifically. He's just started giving them out, and they are an equal mix of adorable and disgusting. You get a whole mouthful of lips and teeth and always a lot of drool. But he's so happy. Now if I could just stop him "kissing" my shoulder. Because when he hugs my shoulder and leans his face in, I know it's going to turn into a big bite. He's leaving marks on my shoulder. Whatever he does, he does with gusto. And he's always so happy about it. Vampire.
And we did this months ago, but when we switched car seats so he could be forward facing, he was so delighted at the view. And the arm rest that he could finally reach. Now whenever we drive he keeps one hand touching the arm rest, just because he can.
And, talking. Mostly now he says "ball." Because if it isn't a ball or a phone, it isn't really worth his time. He likes the basketball hoop on the side of our new swingset. He'll get a ball and hold it over his head until somebody lifts him up to drop it into the hoop. It's adorable, but I wish he enjoyed the short hoop he could actually reach himself as well. And it doesn't even need to be a ball for him to enjoy it. Socks, phones, anything can be called a ball. Today while I was trying to untangle a slinky (for the second time in as many minutes, but who's counting?), he kept pelting me with the folded-up wet diaper I'd just removed from his body, yelling, "ball!" If he weren't so sweet, it would have felt a little mean spirited. We'll have to have a family home evening about not bullying mom.
To which she asked, "Am I a big girl now?" (pronounced: gull-er)
"yes!"
To Alice, though, a being a big girl is synonymous with being fully potty trained. All summer she's resisted potty training since she's still little. So after her bath she was pretty incensed that I was putting a diaper on her. "But I'm a big gull-er!"
Sigh.
Now that school is in (can I get a hallelujah?) and she's finally ready, in her words, "to be trained," she's actually cooperating with it. Makes all the difference in the world.
I'll leave school for a separate post for another day, but let's just talk about kissing for a minute. Peter kisses, specifically. He's just started giving them out, and they are an equal mix of adorable and disgusting. You get a whole mouthful of lips and teeth and always a lot of drool. But he's so happy. Now if I could just stop him "kissing" my shoulder. Because when he hugs my shoulder and leans his face in, I know it's going to turn into a big bite. He's leaving marks on my shoulder. Whatever he does, he does with gusto. And he's always so happy about it. Vampire.
And we did this months ago, but when we switched car seats so he could be forward facing, he was so delighted at the view. And the arm rest that he could finally reach. Now whenever we drive he keeps one hand touching the arm rest, just because he can.
And, talking. Mostly now he says "ball." Because if it isn't a ball or a phone, it isn't really worth his time. He likes the basketball hoop on the side of our new swingset. He'll get a ball and hold it over his head until somebody lifts him up to drop it into the hoop. It's adorable, but I wish he enjoyed the short hoop he could actually reach himself as well. And it doesn't even need to be a ball for him to enjoy it. Socks, phones, anything can be called a ball. Today while I was trying to untangle a slinky (for the second time in as many minutes, but who's counting?), he kept pelting me with the folded-up wet diaper I'd just removed from his body, yelling, "ball!" If he weren't so sweet, it would have felt a little mean spirited. We'll have to have a family home evening about not bullying mom.
Friday, July 17, 2015
We got all sorts of moved
It's been a month since I posted? It's been a month. And how.
We moved! Four weeks tomorrow. The upstairs has been I think cleared of boxes. That was a pretty big goal for me to have done before my book club came over 2 weeks ago, and it happened. Never mind the garage and the basement. They're supposed to look like that. I'm trying to get organized and not just shove things in weird places, so I'm taking my time deciding where things should go.
The kids spent the first week thinking, Today will we make new friends? It was a little heartbreaking to watch. But they are all good little playmates so they weren't too bored or sad as the first week stretched into two and no new friends had appeared. Our street is inordinately quiet. We invited friends from the old neighborhood to play so they wouldn't be too lonesome. By the third week we'd met some people, and a family on the next street up came by to invite them to play. The kids were over the moon! Nathan practically catapulted out of the house. Alice and Clara were very trepidatious, but did not want to miss the opportunity. For a minute Clara tried to carry Alice, but they're nearly the same size, so that wasn't sustainable. They walked off down the street behind their new friend, holding hands, encouraging each other. So, new friends are happening, finally. This week we also had some neighbors come by and told us about the ward playgroup that happens every Thursday. So, next Thursday we'll be able to go and make more new friends. So I'm finally feeling like this move won't be terrible for them.
We moved! Four weeks tomorrow. The upstairs has been I think cleared of boxes. That was a pretty big goal for me to have done before my book club came over 2 weeks ago, and it happened. Never mind the garage and the basement. They're supposed to look like that. I'm trying to get organized and not just shove things in weird places, so I'm taking my time deciding where things should go.
The kids spent the first week thinking, Today will we make new friends? It was a little heartbreaking to watch. But they are all good little playmates so they weren't too bored or sad as the first week stretched into two and no new friends had appeared. Our street is inordinately quiet. We invited friends from the old neighborhood to play so they wouldn't be too lonesome. By the third week we'd met some people, and a family on the next street up came by to invite them to play. The kids were over the moon! Nathan practically catapulted out of the house. Alice and Clara were very trepidatious, but did not want to miss the opportunity. For a minute Clara tried to carry Alice, but they're nearly the same size, so that wasn't sustainable. They walked off down the street behind their new friend, holding hands, encouraging each other. So, new friends are happening, finally. This week we also had some neighbors come by and told us about the ward playgroup that happens every Thursday. So, next Thursday we'll be able to go and make more new friends. So I'm finally feeling like this move won't be terrible for them.
Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater
My camera is broken. And I'm too lazy to put pictures from my phone on here. So, words is all you get.
Peter is now fifteen months, and is all toddler. Somehow my sweet baby has disappeared and has become an urgent grunting thing with opinions who always wants to go outside. He's also the only kid who dares go down to the basement by himself. We've lost him a couple of times in the new house. He's usually in the basement or, if someone's left the door open, in the garage.
He loves shoes. Dad's are his favorite, but anyone else's will do in a pinch. He just carries them around grinning.
He has just learned to fold arms for a prayer. If you place his arms in a folded position he'll keep them that way for the entire prayer, looking bemused and befuddled the entire time. He'll stay that way until you unfold his arms and give him five.
He's switching from two to one naps, and hates to go to bed. There's so much he knows he's missing.
He's been going to nursery with me and Alice the last few weeks, which he's been loving. Alice hasn't allowed me to leave when I take her in there, and it looks like that's going to be permanent. At least for the next five months when she goes to Sunbeams. So really we're just kicking the conflict down the road until January. But Peter gets a bonus three months in nursery, so it will be good. I've spent most of the last couple of months in the hallway at church with him anyway. So, nursery calling. Never had that before. It will be good.
Peter is now fifteen months, and is all toddler. Somehow my sweet baby has disappeared and has become an urgent grunting thing with opinions who always wants to go outside. He's also the only kid who dares go down to the basement by himself. We've lost him a couple of times in the new house. He's usually in the basement or, if someone's left the door open, in the garage.
He loves shoes. Dad's are his favorite, but anyone else's will do in a pinch. He just carries them around grinning.
He has just learned to fold arms for a prayer. If you place his arms in a folded position he'll keep them that way for the entire prayer, looking bemused and befuddled the entire time. He'll stay that way until you unfold his arms and give him five.
He's switching from two to one naps, and hates to go to bed. There's so much he knows he's missing.
He's been going to nursery with me and Alice the last few weeks, which he's been loving. Alice hasn't allowed me to leave when I take her in there, and it looks like that's going to be permanent. At least for the next five months when she goes to Sunbeams. So really we're just kicking the conflict down the road until January. But Peter gets a bonus three months in nursery, so it will be good. I've spent most of the last couple of months in the hallway at church with him anyway. So, nursery calling. Never had that before. It will be good.
Wednesday, June 17, 2015
It's really happening this time
Just got off the phone with our mortgage person. And, apparently, she was under threat of horse's heads in her bed if she didn't get us to closing on time, but she pulled through. One of the benefits of getting your mortgage through a place your brother works: you get good treatment.
Closing day is tomur little ones. My korrow. Moving day is Saturday.
I woke up this morning early, feeling all of the sadness. Change is stressful, and I not only have to manage the logistics of things, I'm also responsible for the emotional well-being of foids love this place. They have great friends. They are going to be sad next week when the impact of moving sinks in: no friends next door, across the street, always available. We're only moving a few miles, possibly less, but it means new new neighbors, new ward, new school. Starting over is hard when you're seven. I know: I remember.
Also, sadness for me: It's a lot harder to make friends as an adult than it is as a kid. My kids will do fine, they'll make friends, Nathan's even excited to start at a new school. But I have some lovely friends here and I won't see them as much. I don't like this part of moving.
When we moved in here, we were two relatively newlyweds, naively looking forward to the birth of our first child. We thought we'd live here for maybe five years, have a couple of kids, then move on. We've been here seven; we've brought four kids home. We learned a lot about home maintenance, how to clean up vomit, and the importance of keeping up on the dishes. So, so many dishes. So many happy hours in the back yard with our lovely shade tree that I will miss dearly. So many nights we were glad our kids couldn't tell time so we could put them to bed early (I miss those days). Watching our babies grow and turn into people.
The last seven years have been an intense ride in all aspects of our lives. A lot of professional development for Levi, a choice to step back from the professional world to focus on some screaming beings for me. Days and months when we struggled and tried to work together, growing in respect for each other's strengths and grace for each other's weaknesses. And many hours of church service that we pretty much always felt ill-prepared for but hoped that it would turn out all right. We still hope that. It's hard to leave a ward we know needs us but...our path is beckoning. And we look forward to what it could be.
Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.
Closing day is tomur little ones. My korrow. Moving day is Saturday.
I woke up this morning early, feeling all of the sadness. Change is stressful, and I not only have to manage the logistics of things, I'm also responsible for the emotional well-being of foids love this place. They have great friends. They are going to be sad next week when the impact of moving sinks in: no friends next door, across the street, always available. We're only moving a few miles, possibly less, but it means new new neighbors, new ward, new school. Starting over is hard when you're seven. I know: I remember.
Also, sadness for me: It's a lot harder to make friends as an adult than it is as a kid. My kids will do fine, they'll make friends, Nathan's even excited to start at a new school. But I have some lovely friends here and I won't see them as much. I don't like this part of moving.
When we moved in here, we were two relatively newlyweds, naively looking forward to the birth of our first child. We thought we'd live here for maybe five years, have a couple of kids, then move on. We've been here seven; we've brought four kids home. We learned a lot about home maintenance, how to clean up vomit, and the importance of keeping up on the dishes. So, so many dishes. So many happy hours in the back yard with our lovely shade tree that I will miss dearly. So many nights we were glad our kids couldn't tell time so we could put them to bed early (I miss those days). Watching our babies grow and turn into people.
The last seven years have been an intense ride in all aspects of our lives. A lot of professional development for Levi, a choice to step back from the professional world to focus on some screaming beings for me. Days and months when we struggled and tried to work together, growing in respect for each other's strengths and grace for each other's weaknesses. And many hours of church service that we pretty much always felt ill-prepared for but hoped that it would turn out all right. We still hope that. It's hard to leave a ward we know needs us but...our path is beckoning. And we look forward to what it could be.
Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.
Tuesday, June 2, 2015
Counting Down
Too much I need to write down, and so of course I do none of it.
At the end of April our contract fell through, and then Levi had a birthday, and then we went to the zoo, and then we got two offers on the same day--again. Then we went on a marathon of house hunting (ten houses in four hours with three kids). And we found one! After a snafu of MLS # mixups and second showings and our first loved house made a reappearance online but then wasn't really available again after all and sadness, we made an offer on a house that isn't our dream house (but who has the budget for that sort of thing?) but will be a great house with enough space for our kids to grow, and we're hoping it isn't TOO MUCH, and now I'll end this really long sentence.
We're moving just a few miles, still in Roy, which wasn't my first choice, but we feel really good about it. It means new schools and new friends, but it also means more than twice as many square feet and plenty of room in the garage for all of the bikes.
And now, the sadness. There are friends and neighbors I wish I could pack up and bring with us, because even though we aren't going far and can still see them, it just won't be the same. That if my kids disappear from view, I won't know they're just at Sara's and I don't need to worry. They have a great little crew of friends going on and it's so fleeting and wonderful.
Anyway. I'm having Linda come take pictures of us in our house so we can try to hang on to some of the magic that has been growing our family in this place.
Speaking of magic, I gave the kids some sugar snap peas for lunch. Nathan disappeared in the backyard and came back to report he had planted some peas and a maple tree, and did I want to come see? He's also turned the patch of gravel on the side of the garage into a mining trove. "This one is real diamond! This one has purple diamond! This one is real coal!" He did find a small red rock that, looking online, looks most like carnelian. Magic is just outside the door when you are seven. After I forced the removal of training wheels and instituted mandatory practice, Nathan finally got the hang of it. After for months insisting riding bikes was boring and he didn't want to be able to join his friends across the street, he now pedals happily over and joins the cycling fun.
Peter is just about walking. He'll take a few steps when bribed properly (read: smartphone). And he's waving and throwing food on the floor when he's tired of it and doing all of the things a 14 month old (tomorrow!) should be doing. He's a bottomless pit and has been outeating all of the other kids lately. And he's mostly given up eating Legos (big relief there). Peter likes to open the garage door whenever possible (if it's not latched completely he can pry it open) and try to escape the house. And he'll hang on to the tricycle and walk around the driveway pushing it.
Alice is indomitable. If she doesn't want to do something, nothing will shake her. (Speaking of potty training, we're on a hiatus, probably until school starts and I have some mental energy left for it.) She roughhouses with the big kids like she belongs there, and for the most part she holds her own. Although a certain incident with a big brother and a bunk bed ladder, involving a front tooth's untimely loss, would argue otherwise. She just learned to pedal the tricycle and we're trying to teach her to stay out of the street.
As for Clara, the countdown has begun until kindergarten. This fall is going to be a great thing for everybody. For the record, Clara was the first to request training wheels on her bike, and then quickly developed the balance necessary. She's been wheeling around for months on her scooter, which has helped, while Nathan has been insisting we should get rid of his scooter because it's also boring. We also can't keep her out of the road, or get her to keep shoes on her feet. She's getting bold and adventurous which is quite a transformation.
At the end of April our contract fell through, and then Levi had a birthday, and then we went to the zoo, and then we got two offers on the same day--again. Then we went on a marathon of house hunting (ten houses in four hours with three kids). And we found one! After a snafu of MLS # mixups and second showings and our first loved house made a reappearance online but then wasn't really available again after all and sadness, we made an offer on a house that isn't our dream house (but who has the budget for that sort of thing?) but will be a great house with enough space for our kids to grow, and we're hoping it isn't TOO MUCH, and now I'll end this really long sentence.
We're moving just a few miles, still in Roy, which wasn't my first choice, but we feel really good about it. It means new schools and new friends, but it also means more than twice as many square feet and plenty of room in the garage for all of the bikes.
And now, the sadness. There are friends and neighbors I wish I could pack up and bring with us, because even though we aren't going far and can still see them, it just won't be the same. That if my kids disappear from view, I won't know they're just at Sara's and I don't need to worry. They have a great little crew of friends going on and it's so fleeting and wonderful.
Anyway. I'm having Linda come take pictures of us in our house so we can try to hang on to some of the magic that has been growing our family in this place.
Speaking of magic, I gave the kids some sugar snap peas for lunch. Nathan disappeared in the backyard and came back to report he had planted some peas and a maple tree, and did I want to come see? He's also turned the patch of gravel on the side of the garage into a mining trove. "This one is real diamond! This one has purple diamond! This one is real coal!" He did find a small red rock that, looking online, looks most like carnelian. Magic is just outside the door when you are seven. After I forced the removal of training wheels and instituted mandatory practice, Nathan finally got the hang of it. After for months insisting riding bikes was boring and he didn't want to be able to join his friends across the street, he now pedals happily over and joins the cycling fun.
Peter is just about walking. He'll take a few steps when bribed properly (read: smartphone). And he's waving and throwing food on the floor when he's tired of it and doing all of the things a 14 month old (tomorrow!) should be doing. He's a bottomless pit and has been outeating all of the other kids lately. And he's mostly given up eating Legos (big relief there). Peter likes to open the garage door whenever possible (if it's not latched completely he can pry it open) and try to escape the house. And he'll hang on to the tricycle and walk around the driveway pushing it.
Alice is indomitable. If she doesn't want to do something, nothing will shake her. (Speaking of potty training, we're on a hiatus, probably until school starts and I have some mental energy left for it.) She roughhouses with the big kids like she belongs there, and for the most part she holds her own. Although a certain incident with a big brother and a bunk bed ladder, involving a front tooth's untimely loss, would argue otherwise. She just learned to pedal the tricycle and we're trying to teach her to stay out of the street.
As for Clara, the countdown has begun until kindergarten. This fall is going to be a great thing for everybody. For the record, Clara was the first to request training wheels on her bike, and then quickly developed the balance necessary. She's been wheeling around for months on her scooter, which has helped, while Nathan has been insisting we should get rid of his scooter because it's also boring. We also can't keep her out of the road, or get her to keep shoes on her feet. She's getting bold and adventurous which is quite a transformation.
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
ISOPH
(In Search of Perfect House)
Home shopping is like speed dating. Except you have to propose after the first, possibly second, date. You do get to check them out beforehand, and bring an expert adviser along on your date, but you have to know--bam!--if the chemistry is there.
Of course, it's not really an option to completely renovate your spouse. Houses do have that advantage.
I kid.
The problem with house hunting is the number of options. Where should we live? Stay in humdrum but dependable Roy? Join the snobbery of the east bench? Out beyond farthest Egypt in Syracuse or West Point? Would we be comfortable in 2600 square feet (double what we have now) or should we go for a behemoth at nearly 4000 that is somehow in our price range? One of my current favorites has a nice workshop area in the basement. Should I take up woodworking? Maybe I could them make all the new furniture I want instead of buying it.
Also, should we give up looking at existing and just decide to build? If lightning doesn't strike soon we may just decide on that.
Looking back now, I'm amazed at how nonchalant we've always chosen where we lived now. We chose apartments after looking at a few. We looked only at houses in Roy last time. Back then the stakes seemed a lot smaller, the consequences more temporary.
The last time we moved we didn't have any kids. We didn't think about schools or neighborhoods or traffic or crime stats. We didn't worry about choosing a house that would have the right friends for our kids, a situation that would help us as we try to somehow nurture these beings into adulthood. Also, making friends as an adult is trickier than it used to be--would it be too much to ask to have adult neighbors we like as well? (We do have awesome neighbors now, and I wish we could pack them up and bring them with us.)
Same goes for our ward. Our ward has its struggles, which we have seen and worked around as we've been in leadership positions for the last seven years (either one or both of us for nearly the entire time we've lived here). But we love the people in our ward. There are some people I just ache about leaving. But, we don't feel like the house that we could possibly buy in our ward is the right option for us.
So, a house that is big but not too big, with a lot that is spacious without being a beast to take care of, with a truly perfect kitchen with a pantry, a mudroom, three or more bedrooms, a master suite, and the mystical, undefinable quality that will make that place our home. And room for a piano. Is that too much to ask?
Home shopping is like speed dating. Except you have to propose after the first, possibly second, date. You do get to check them out beforehand, and bring an expert adviser along on your date, but you have to know--bam!--if the chemistry is there.
Of course, it's not really an option to completely renovate your spouse. Houses do have that advantage.
I kid.
The problem with house hunting is the number of options. Where should we live? Stay in humdrum but dependable Roy? Join the snobbery of the east bench? Out beyond farthest Egypt in Syracuse or West Point? Would we be comfortable in 2600 square feet (double what we have now) or should we go for a behemoth at nearly 4000 that is somehow in our price range? One of my current favorites has a nice workshop area in the basement. Should I take up woodworking? Maybe I could them make all the new furniture I want instead of buying it.
Also, should we give up looking at existing and just decide to build? If lightning doesn't strike soon we may just decide on that.
Looking back now, I'm amazed at how nonchalant we've always chosen where we lived now. We chose apartments after looking at a few. We looked only at houses in Roy last time. Back then the stakes seemed a lot smaller, the consequences more temporary.
The last time we moved we didn't have any kids. We didn't think about schools or neighborhoods or traffic or crime stats. We didn't worry about choosing a house that would have the right friends for our kids, a situation that would help us as we try to somehow nurture these beings into adulthood. Also, making friends as an adult is trickier than it used to be--would it be too much to ask to have adult neighbors we like as well? (We do have awesome neighbors now, and I wish we could pack them up and bring them with us.)
Same goes for our ward. Our ward has its struggles, which we have seen and worked around as we've been in leadership positions for the last seven years (either one or both of us for nearly the entire time we've lived here). But we love the people in our ward. There are some people I just ache about leaving. But, we don't feel like the house that we could possibly buy in our ward is the right option for us.
So, a house that is big but not too big, with a lot that is spacious without being a beast to take care of, with a truly perfect kitchen with a pantry, a mudroom, three or more bedrooms, a master suite, and the mystical, undefinable quality that will make that place our home. And room for a piano. Is that too much to ask?
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