Week in Pictures

What this picture means: no matter how hard you try to push monkeys on your baby, they may still end up liking cats instead. Life lesson there, my friends. Oh, and, well, packing up some baby stuff. Sniff.


Heh. I love this outfit.


Taking down the damaged awning. I'm so sad.


Sammy's stack o' books by his bedside.



(pull my heart away, jack penate)

Warning. Whining Ahead. And Not Even About REAL Problems.

Kindergarten is KICKING MY BUTT.

Hm. I thought of just leaving that as a post in and of itself, but, no. Let me explain. I often heard moms complain that Kindergarten is difficult to manage because it's just a stupid slot of time to work around and I always thought, "but at least you get three hours to yourself, right?". Luckily, I'm not dumb enough to have said that out loud. Because, OY WITH THE POODLES. It is just enough time to screw up your entire day. Really. Things as easy as scheduling showering and loading the washer become quantum physics problems akin to having a newborn again. And it's worse choosing a school that is farther from your home than necessary because you have to factor in travel time.

Take this morning. It's Thursday, which is bank / bill day at my house. I got up just after 6, did the weeks accounting and finished just in time to shove everyone in the car. Sammy to school, Isaac to work, me to the bank. Picked up a couple of cases of canning jars that were on sale and had an in depth conversation about Def Leppard with the checker (because, I should note, I'm wearing yesterday's Def Leppard shirt, still (see: SHOWERING, QUANTUM PHYSICS)), run to another store to run an errand for Isaac, run to ANOTHER store to score some coveted unmentionables that are always out of stock, and then collapse in Isaac's exam chair at 9:30 because my mind will not slow down. Now I have to weigh the rest of my day. Showering (ha!), freezing 3 dozen ears of corn and 2 pounds of green beans, roasting tomatoes for tonight's soup, making a peach pie for dinner, trying to find my desk. Sigh. And this is a less crazy day since school has started so I MIGHT actually carve 1/2 hour out to read at some point.

I just don't feel on top of anything, lately. I am not a fly by the seat of my pants kind of girl. Isaac is not that kind of boy. We have clearly passed that gene on to Sammy. We are a scheduled, organized household and I think Kindergarten in all its three hour glory is trying to beat it out of us. Well, me. I know a lot of it is September. We have produce GALORE and something has to be done with all of it. I was up to my elbows in canning peaches until seven last night. That will end...sometime. We are entering our slow time for work and that always adds a little stress into life. We are switching over our tv this week to antennae and fall shows start next week (which, I realize, is clearly a 1st world sort of problem, but I really like premiere week, dagnabit!) and I'm worried something is going to happen and its really not going to work. AND we've been told that after two (2!) years of not being able to have a phone line run to our house, we can get DSL next week. I'm not holding my breath, but that will simplify things GREATLY if it actually works. All of this to say that my to do list is long (pages!) and nothing is getting done. I have not written one word since my son has started school and that is the most frustrating part. Especially since I had a lightning bolt of brilliance for a book of short stories the other day and not a second to regurgitate down onto paper. A friend suggested a weekly morning out, yesterday, and it was all I could do not to laugh. Weekly? It hurt my head to try to add that in. At least while I'm flailing. Let me start treading before anything is added on!

I know there is an answer. It lies in me sitting down, with three seconds to think logically and I could find that answer. The schedule that will work for us. I know it. I need to breathe and regroup and figure it out. Because it's not that I don't have the TIME to do everything, it's just that I'm feeling out of routine. Things are getting done, but it's manic and disjointed. I'm just hoping the answer isn't "get through the newborn stage of school" because that just really won't work for me. I don't work well with frenzied energy. I clearly don't work at ALL with frenzied energy. I know my problems are small (well, THESE problems are small), but I hate feeling overwhelmed. I like...whelmed. It's much better.


(how soon is now, the smiths)

Slow Down

I'm starting to feel the pull of slowing down. Of wrapping up and closing my house, snuggling into winter. The air is turning crisp, slowly. The breeze, while the same temperature as just weeks ago, feels differently, chilling me deeply while before it cooled the warmth of my skin. I'm feeling the oddness of flip flops on my feet and have started gravitating toward covering my toes. Opting for boots on Sunday with my summer dress.

Hot chocolate canisters are jockeying for the front position in my pantry once again. My Cocomotion being dusted off and readying for another season, sleek with anticipation. My freezer is filling, my pantries being stocked. Dates set for our annual potato harvest trek. Roasts are once again being cooked. I'm turning to soup for lunch more and more.

This limbo time between peach juice running off elbows and soup simmering on the stove all day for warmth is my favorite place to be. Wrapping up in a blanket with the windows open. My skirts being teamed with a cardigan once the sun dips and fades. Sipping hot chocolate and lemonade all in the same day, matching the various states of layered outfit changes. Ignoring the whines of others that winter is coming too soon, much too soon. Picking up the skin you shed at the beginning of summer and snuggling back in to the familiar rhythms of family and friends and routine.

It surprises me every year, this love I have for fall. It's strong and unyielding. Each September reveals hidden, more deeper meaning than before. I find parallels in life to be stronger in the fall than any other season. While I oft see the need for hearth and home, the fall brings it to my consciousness like no other. Food stored. My boys close. Plans slowed. Breathing purposeful. Resolve renewed. It feels very much like my personal New Year.

This year's pull has begun. My internal countdown to winter has started. I hear it on the wind and feel it in my bones. I tug on my boots and breathe. Deeply. Feeling the pull toward the things in my life that truly, deeply matter.


(feeling the pull - the swell season)

Help

We read The Help for book club this past month. I liked it. I did not, however, love it with the fiery passion of my first born. I had definite issues with parts of it, as well. Mostly the ending. But we'll get to that.

The good: it was a great story. It was engaging and the characters were all very vivid. She didn't scale back the ugly, which was highly important to the story. I found myself very upset, which is clearly the plan. I hated Hilly and Skeeter's mom. The part of the entire story I identified with the most - that really spoke to me - is how dominated women were. It made me angry again and again. In a good way. Well, mostly good way. I may have spoken out at church last Sunday when someone was trying to pin a trait of a husband as something unique about the wife when I should have just let it go (or maybe not...) and I fully blame the book for reigniting my still flaming feminist ways.

The bad: She spent 400 pages setting up this grand story. 400 pages! And then she just...ends it. The ending left a LOT to be desired. Such a huge build up and the ending was such a let down. I was FINE with how it ended, but it seemed...hurried. Build up and then, oh crap. I really need to finish this so I will, um...now. It really bothered me. The other glaring thing that really bothered was the secondary story lines. Some of them I liked and some I didn't, but all of them seemed unfinished. I loved Celia Foote. She was one of my favorite characters but her entire storyline seemed moot at the end. Which was a shame because I think, if done correctly, it could have been a much, much stronger storyline than it ended up being.

The movie: It's important to know that I did not cry. Not even a little bit. And I'll tell you why. They screwed up basic characteristics of the characters in ways that they lost every ounce of integrity they had carved out in the book. Hilly and Skeeter's mom had bouts of humanity and conscience. Aibeleen lost all of her calm resolve and became mouthy. It was disconcerting, to say the least. Emma Stone was lovely, as always, but I was dismayed by how her and Stuart's relationship was portrayed on film. I know that much had to be altered for film, but these were things that didn't stay true to the characters and that simply...bothers me. Make changes to fit a film format, sure, but keep the character's traits in sync with the book. At the very least.

So I liked it. I'm not sure why it's gripped the nation so, but it's definitely worth reading. Maybe if I had gotten to it before the hype I would have loved it more. Or maybe I would still think the ending was rushed and the secondary plot lines weren't fully developed instead of focusing on the fact that Skeeter was somehow able to escape an insufferably stilted life as a wife, eschewing her goals in the process. Oh, wait. Maybe I got that point, still, loud and clear.


(from a friend to a friend, pajama club)