Books, School...School Books?

*My apologies for the title...I used to be obsessed with Wings and I sometimes channel Thomas Hayden Church.

We (well...everyone else, anyway) read Alice I Have Been this month for book club. I am still struggling through it, bound and determined to finish, but...wow. It's slow. And disturbing in some ways. And complicated in the "is this real? is this not?" sort of way. And, gotta be honest, not making me any more a fan of Alice in Wonderland. What can I say? Some months the book comes easily, sometimes not so much. Which is true of the restaurants we frequent, as well, apparently.

Not to put too fine a point on it (totally laughing should you be singing They Might Be Giants the rest of the day!), but IHop? Not the greatest of book clubbing destinations. Well. At least not the local one. It's full of workers who CLEARLY don't want to be there...thank heavens we had choices to restaurant hop!

In other news...Sammy was accepted to our first choice Charter School for next year. Thursday morning, early, I ran over to the Health Department to fill out an immunization exemption form so we could get him registered for Kindergarten (!) on Friday. For some reason, an exemption form is $15. I don't really get that. But, ANYWAY...I ran back home and gathered the myriad of paperwork required to send my only born out into the cold, cruel world. In the midst of that, the phone rang. It was the director of our first choice Charter School...apparently Sammy was number 12-ish on the wait list and, against all KINDS of odds, his number came up. The spot for next year was ours if we wanted it. And instead of JUMPING at the chance, I did what I do best. I started second guessing. I asked for the weekend to think about it and she answered questions and I started wondering if maybe a traditional elementary school was really better. I put out an email to a friend who had a child in both schools and after her answer, I started wondering even more and really didn't know what to do. If we had gotten this in the first round of the lottery, I would have jumped at the chance, you know? So I was flummoxed at why I was having such a difficult time.

We visited the school on Friday and we were really put at ease. It's a K-8, one class per grade school, classes capped at 20 students. There are some areas that are lacking, but there are areas that are just what I want for him. I don't know that it was the absolute most correct decision, but I don't know that either decision was the absolute most correct decision. And, if it really isn't everything I've seen or heard, we pull him out next year. I think it's just tripping me up that we've selected the school my child will be attending for the next eight years of his life. *shudder* I AM very grateful for the at least 13 people who declined before us. I really didn't think that we had a shot of attending, so this is just...beyond. And I'm hopeful. Especially since Sammy ran right into the Kindergarten room and started playing and exploring and then declared, on the way to the car, "Can I come back tomorrow?". He LOVED it. So very much. And I should be really grateful for that.

For our third topic: Sammy has been sick (just a virus, according to the doctor, even though I really thought he might have something REALLY loud and scary camped out in his chest...) so we've been cooped up this past week. I'm going INSANE. Huh. I think that's about all I have to say about that. Except this. Saturday night, Isaac and I both woke up in the middle of the night at the same time. Horrid stomach ache, both CERTAIN puking was on deck. Twenty very horrible flu ridden minutes ensued. And then it went away. It was so very weird. Especially since we hadn't eaten the same thing since Wednesday night, so...not so much "bad food" related. But seems to wrap up my week in a "yeah, that's about right" kind of way.

How soon is spring?


(paul weller...my ever changing moods - this seems to be footage from concerts the same year we saw him in LA. It was an AMAZING concert. One I would love to repeat sometime.)

Week In Pictures

Thursday - Sammy's pancake, courtesy of daddy


Friday - birthday lunch, out


Saturday - birthday party leftovers. Mmmmmmm....


Sunday - Saturday, Sammy and I tried to find a good spot to view how much snow fell Friday night / Saturday morning (answer? A LOT). I LOVE this spot for taking pictures and I thought the 'to the seat' bench was a perfect, well, benchmark!



Monday - This is the face of a kid with a cold...


Tuesday - Feeding the baby doll breakfast. (Not shown: the baby carrier fashioned out of a rubber band, wrapped around the arm and carried, bungee cord style)


Wednesday - architecture legos...Sammy's new love


Thursday - Book Club! Which means my camera didn't come out all night because I was too busy discussing my love of the Irish. Mmmmmm....wait. Where was I?


(life in a northern town, the dream academy)

My Writing Group

Oh, my. My first writing group was about a week ago. Let me start by saying that I haven't been involved in a writing group since...college? Maybe? Anyway, it's been "awhile". A few months ago, I did some work for an author who, in turn, introduced me to some friends who had a local writing group. So Thursday I gathered up a few things and left the house about the time I'm usually winding down for the night, more nervous than a first date.

Let me start by saying that the other three people there were perfectly lovely. They treated me with respect and acted like I actually belonged to be there. I really appreciated that. So. Lovely people. Great to talk with; I enjoyed the conversation and getting to know them. I loved 'talking shop', which is something I haven't done in a really long time. HOWEVER...

I felt like SUCH a loser. Well, maybe just an impostor. All three of them are published. With novels. Or publishing deals. And then? There was me. The one who hasn't seen my name in print in...5? years. And who doesn't write novels. I felt out of place, out of touch and like I'm completely starting over my career. I came home and talked to Isaac about it and he mentioned that OF COURSE I felt like that. He reminded me I never think my writing is good enough, ABOVE enough to hold its own. He reminded me that I self edit so much that I edit myself out of anything good. Including opportunities like this. And he's right. I know he is. So it's hard to argue that point. But, still...

I don't understand why I do this. Well, mostly. My divorce and motherhood put doubts in my mind, but I'm troubled that I can't seem to shake them. That I give in to the thoughts that I'm not a 'real' writer and ride that wave. Even though I am! And, now...well, now, I'm standing at this cross roads. And I told all of you. The starting, that isn't the hard part. The tough comes with the continuing, for me. And now that I'm nervous and intimidated at being so far away from my career goals, staring at the face of people who continue to write through everything I've used as excuses the past few years, I can feel it happening. The literal making excuses, putting up walls and plotting the reasons why this writing group isn't for me. And it's interesting to feel this internal battle going on, when I clearly knew it was going to happen.

I have something to take to the next meeting and I'm determined to go. To face this ridiculous notion in my head that my writing is less than. That I don't belong. Because, really, the others were lovely. And helpful. And treated me as an equal. Which I am and should learn to embrace. I'll keep you posted on how it goes.


(left to my own devices, pet shop boys)

Ding Dong

We had this cardboard record when I was little. It was scary. Granted, I'm not big on scary things, but this really WAS scary, I promise. It was called The Hitchhiker. And nothing could give me nightmares faster. Except that scary movie my older brother and sister forced me to watch while my parents were gone...I still can't look in mirrors at night TO THIS DAY. OH! And my brother telling me, at my other sister's wedding, that Big Foot was after me. Which was completely believable to a 7 year old in Seattle for the first time...

Anyway. Where was I? Oh, yeah. The record. We had that one and a plastic record of Sweet Pickles that we played fairly constantly on our little orange and white record player. I'm sure there were others, but those two stand out. Especially The Hitchhiker. I was...somewhere, the other day when I heard a door bell. A door bell that sounded EXACTLY like the door bell on the record (it's a sound burned on my brain!) and I shuddered. But then I started remembering how, when we were older, we would change the speed from 45 to 78 and it made the narrator sound like a muppet and the door bell became really fast and funny. Too bad it never stopped the nightmares...

(a recording of the story is here. Click at your own risk. Or, you know, just don't be a 6 year old scaredy little girl and you should be ok. Or...will you? And, um, I only listened to about 1 minute of the clip because of the 'mares, so if you are RickRolled half way through, sorry. But, you know, not really.)


(zombies, the cranberries)

What It Really Is

A few weeks ago, my friend posted this link on facebook (seriously...go read it!). I read it and immediately thought of my post I wrote last month. The posts mingled in my mind for quite awhile and I tried to formulate thoughts about it.

Last Thursday, my lovely friend, Lora, posted this on her blog. And, as she knows, my heart breaks for her. But I also know that she goes through her days, outwardly smiling and being ok. People she meets would never know of her inner heart break. But. That is the same for us all. We all have hard things. And reading her post, I started to wish we really could all wear signs.

I really don't have anything earth shattering to say about it all. My heart hurts for humanity, sometimes. I wish that everyone could think before speaking and treat everyone gently. Lora and I were talking adoption during our knitting night - mostly how a few people have no idea what is involved with it and talk as if we were picking out towels at Kohls instead of the emotional roller coaster that is trying to convince someone to give you their baby. It's not that easy and one of the reasons we have chosen NOT to go down that route. It's not for us. But I had someone, for the first time in a LONG time, ask me why we weren't adopting a couple of months ago. I have a little history with this person - she's not one to shy away from topics and is blunt to the point of rude a lot of times. After my surprise, I started wondering what SHE is feeling in her life. People shy away from her abrasive nature and I wonder if she's lonely.

This topic seems to be a recurring theme in my life lately and I'm trying to sit still and listen to what I really should be learning with it. Empathy? Patience? I'm not sure. But I'm trying to see people as my 4 year old sees them: with only the benefit of the doubt.


(a-ha, crying in the rain)