We were up before 7 am this morning, not really by choice but because Noah was up. So we decided to try out a new diner in town before we leave Davis. It was an experience. The food was fine; WE were in fine form. It has happened. We are officially that family--you know the one with the loud kid who makes a colossal mess? The family you half stare at, half pray for (and half roll your eyes at while muttering under your breath: "They should teach their kid how to behave or just stay home."). Minutes after we sat down (in the back of the restaurant's 2nd room--the one they reserve for overflow and families with small children), we asked for them to adjust the temperature because we were freezing. Then Noah began his dog and pony show. The floor was soon covered with crayons and tiny bits of paper pulled from the plastic straws. Then the straws followed, bent and now contaminated by the floor. Next came the jelly. We were trying to preserve the half and half for our coffee, so Noah got to open and eat some smuckers jelly, which ended up on his lap before we could change our minds. We didn't really think he would be able to open the little container, but we were wrong. Breakfast arrived and the jelly was joined by apple sauce, milk, syrup, and sausage. Noah was happy as a clam, making pig faces at us, laughing at himself, talking in another language about the bear decor and the fine weather we were having. I wouldn't have cared that he was making such a mess except that TWICE he pulled the plastic bendy straw out of his milk cup and flung milk all over me. The first time was a shock, the second time less funny. On top of all this, his nose was running, he had kicked off a shoe, he was practicing eating with a knife, he was desperate to stir my coffee for me, and he was DONE sitting in this high chair. This whole time, Abby was contentedly doing a word puzzle and coloring the kid menu with expert precision and flare. She ate without making even a tiny mess, and she used her best manners as she sipped her milk and asked politely for the syrup. Is it possible these two children are related?
Thankfully, we were done eating. I left the waitress a 30% tip. We drove home and upon our arrival, I noticed that my hair was stiff from dried milk. It's a quarter to 10 now and I am thinking of offering Abby the car if she will watch her brother so I can take a nap.
The next time you see a family with a rambunctious child, have pity. If you are rich, buy their breakfast for them. If not, and if you can't help but roll your eyes, just don't do it till they leave; it isn't easy containing wildness the likes of our son.
May 24, 2009
May 19, 2009
wise words from daddy
This afternoon after school, Abby was talking about ways to earn money:
A: I know! I could have a lemonade stand after school!
M: You can make a lot more money selling lemonade if you put a little vodka in it.
A: I know! I could have a lemonade stand after school!
M: You can make a lot more money selling lemonade if you put a little vodka in it.
May 11, 2009
mixed feelings
Our time in Davis is short. We're here for only one more month, and I can tell that the reality is starting to set in. We're feeling sad about leaving dear friends and familiar joys. Abby is more sensitive than usual (and she's usually sensitive!); each night this week has brought some tears and heavy thoughts about life, God, change, even fears about dying. This is not an uncommon thing for seven year olds to experience (so I read), and I vaguely remember a couple of phases of heightened awareness of my mortality--around ages 7, 12, and 30. I'm sure there are more to come, and I am glad to be able to relate to Abby when this happens. The hardest thing, though, is knowing that these thoughts are part of being human. (We hope) They will ultimately lead to a new respect and thankfulness for each day we have to experience and a deeper sense of how precious we are to each other and to God, but when Abby sobs and expresses her disappointment at the crappiness of death, it just breaks my heart. Last night she was especially upset over the death of Matty's mom and brother. She was indignant over God taking his mom away on his birthday (this, a strong emotion after celebrating mother's day and Matty not having his mother). Abby is realizing that there are no guarantees about any of our lives, and she is trying to make sense of something that hardly makes sense to any of us.
There is no coincidence that all of this comes up at a time when we are changing practically everything. For a family not at all used to moving, this is a time of great upheaval--in good ways and in tough ways. And this doesn't even begin to deal with the grown ups in the picture or the little guy, who is coming in to his own these days. He will probably adjust the most easily out of all of us, and maybe we can take some cues from his ability to express so purely his frustration and his excitement.
On my heart is the sweetest, sad and resonant wish from a parent to a child, beautifully expressed in Paul Laurence Dunbar's poem, "Little Brown Baby": "Come to you' pallet now--go to yo' res'; / Wisht you could allus know ease an' cleah skies; / Wisht you could stay jes' a chile on my breas'-- / Little brown baby wif spa'klin eyes!"
I do often wish my kiddos could always know ease and clear skies--that they could somehow be spared the harshness of this world. But then I know just a little of the beauty and winsomeness that comes with suffering, and I wouldn't rob my precious ones of the full measure of love and wide-eyed adventure (good and bad) that this life offers. Sometimes we just need to sob and kick our feet and hurt about the sad things. And then smile and giggle about the happy things. And then keep on living and knowing that we will cry and laugh and cry and laugh--a lot. So, that's where we are--we're all kind of wild-eyed and raw and sad and glad. I'm finally figuring out that no amount of planning will make moving away any more graceful. We're gonna do the ugly cry and we're gonna wake up one day soon in Princeton and smile at the thought that we are home again.
There is no coincidence that all of this comes up at a time when we are changing practically everything. For a family not at all used to moving, this is a time of great upheaval--in good ways and in tough ways. And this doesn't even begin to deal with the grown ups in the picture or the little guy, who is coming in to his own these days. He will probably adjust the most easily out of all of us, and maybe we can take some cues from his ability to express so purely his frustration and his excitement.
On my heart is the sweetest, sad and resonant wish from a parent to a child, beautifully expressed in Paul Laurence Dunbar's poem, "Little Brown Baby": "Come to you' pallet now--go to yo' res'; / Wisht you could allus know ease an' cleah skies; / Wisht you could stay jes' a chile on my breas'-- / Little brown baby wif spa'klin eyes!"
I do often wish my kiddos could always know ease and clear skies--that they could somehow be spared the harshness of this world. But then I know just a little of the beauty and winsomeness that comes with suffering, and I wouldn't rob my precious ones of the full measure of love and wide-eyed adventure (good and bad) that this life offers. Sometimes we just need to sob and kick our feet and hurt about the sad things. And then smile and giggle about the happy things. And then keep on living and knowing that we will cry and laugh and cry and laugh--a lot. So, that's where we are--we're all kind of wild-eyed and raw and sad and glad. I'm finally figuring out that no amount of planning will make moving away any more graceful. We're gonna do the ugly cry and we're gonna wake up one day soon in Princeton and smile at the thought that we are home again.
May 10, 2009
happy mother's day!
We've had a wonderful day today (and it is only 4:00!). Matty and the kiddos made DELICIOUS pancakes with fresh strawberries, raspberries, and whipped cream to top them. Those were accompanied by a latte, bacon, and eggs. Yummmmm. It was a feast!
I napped off my pancakes while Noah napped; then we all took to our bikes and rode all over the arboretum and campus for nearly two hours. Now we're home and planning what we're going to grill tonight for dinner. Oh, and last night's dinner is worth a mention! M took me and Noah (Abby was at a b-day party) out for an awesome sushi/sashimi/nigiri dinner. Raw Ahi tuna is possibly my favorite food in the world at the moment. I'd have it for dinner again tonight if I could!
I hope all the moms out there are having as great a day. Most of all, I hope you all get to enjoy your kids, even if they are whining or saying "no" to absolutely everything you say to them.
I napped off my pancakes while Noah napped; then we all took to our bikes and rode all over the arboretum and campus for nearly two hours. Now we're home and planning what we're going to grill tonight for dinner. Oh, and last night's dinner is worth a mention! M took me and Noah (Abby was at a b-day party) out for an awesome sushi/sashimi/nigiri dinner. Raw Ahi tuna is possibly my favorite food in the world at the moment. I'd have it for dinner again tonight if I could!
I hope all the moms out there are having as great a day. Most of all, I hope you all get to enjoy your kids, even if they are whining or saying "no" to absolutely everything you say to them.
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