Monday, December 27, 2004
Tomorrow
Their laughter ricochets off the walls and revolves with the heartbeats of the two little ones that trail an iridescent everchanging wake behind them, like a living Kaleidescope.
My babies come home tomorrow.
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My babies come home tomorrow.
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Sunday, December 26, 2004
My Condolences
I finally remembered that it was Sunday, Football games. So I turned on the TV only to hear the sad news that this player had died unexpectedly.
What a shock.
I feel just sick for his family. If the cause of death was truly related to sleep apnea I wonder if it couldn't have been prevented.
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What a shock.
I feel just sick for his family. If the cause of death was truly related to sleep apnea I wonder if it couldn't have been prevented.
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Boy it got quiet around here. But that happens when the chicklets leave.
Fortunately, I have about 27 books I want to read and quiet is a good thing right now.
I have a fridge full of yummy treats and some healthy ones too. There is plenty of coffee and creamer. And the mess from our Christmas has been somewhat squashed down to a managable level so I should be able to ignore that nagging feeling to clean for at least the next three days.
So, I will be sequestered on the couch or propped up on my bed devouring the printed page. You might actually find me wandering into the kitchen to raid the fridge but other than that, I am reading for pleasure!
Oh yeah, and I will be bundled up in my new blankie that my favorite son (Ok, I know I only have one son -- poetic license) gave me for Christmas. This was perhaps my most favorite gift because it was the least expected. About three months ago, I had seen a blankie in the University Bookstore made out of sweatshirt material. I had mentioned to the kids one time that I would like to have one. When the kids wanted to go shopping for me for Christmas Santa sent a little helper who took the kidlets anywhere they wanted to go and my little man went to the University Bookstore. I am so impressed that one, he remembered and two, that he would make the connection with something that I wanted and go specifically shopping for it. And three, that it came from his eight-year old heart (and even in the color I had said that I wanted!).
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Fortunately, I have about 27 books I want to read and quiet is a good thing right now.
I have a fridge full of yummy treats and some healthy ones too. There is plenty of coffee and creamer. And the mess from our Christmas has been somewhat squashed down to a managable level so I should be able to ignore that nagging feeling to clean for at least the next three days.
So, I will be sequestered on the couch or propped up on my bed devouring the printed page. You might actually find me wandering into the kitchen to raid the fridge but other than that, I am reading for pleasure!
Oh yeah, and I will be bundled up in my new blankie that my favorite son (Ok, I know I only have one son -- poetic license) gave me for Christmas. This was perhaps my most favorite gift because it was the least expected. About three months ago, I had seen a blankie in the University Bookstore made out of sweatshirt material. I had mentioned to the kids one time that I would like to have one. When the kids wanted to go shopping for me for Christmas Santa sent a little helper who took the kidlets anywhere they wanted to go and my little man went to the University Bookstore. I am so impressed that one, he remembered and two, that he would make the connection with something that I wanted and go specifically shopping for it. And three, that it came from his eight-year old heart (and even in the color I had said that I wanted!).
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Friday, December 24, 2004
Happy Boxing Day
I did something this year that I have never done before, I waited until the last minute to shop.
With finals, and all, going right up until two days ago, I did not have any time to shop or get ready for Christmas. So, there I was trudging up and down the aisles surrounded by dozens of other shoppers, mostly male, doing the same thing.
I must admit that there was a certain element of adrenaline present knowing that I had today, and only today, to get all of my shopping done. And then the wrapping, which took about two hours.
An added bonus to waiting until the last minute is that the kidlets will be opening all of their presents tomorrow morning and we will not have to be unofficially celebrating "Boxing Day" as we have in the past.
I tend to buy gifts for several months in advance of Christmas and wrap them and hide them. Well, I also tend to forget where all of the packages are hidden. This usually results in me squealing "OH -- fleckin floozin fluff" a day or two after Christmas when I realize that the children aren't playing with that really wonderful watchyamacallit. I then rush off to extract the gifts from their hiding place and exclaim "Happy Boxing Day" as I present the belated gifts to my world-weary children who roll their eyes at me as if to say, "She did it again!"
So there will be no "Boxing Day" this year!
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With finals, and all, going right up until two days ago, I did not have any time to shop or get ready for Christmas. So, there I was trudging up and down the aisles surrounded by dozens of other shoppers, mostly male, doing the same thing.
I must admit that there was a certain element of adrenaline present knowing that I had today, and only today, to get all of my shopping done. And then the wrapping, which took about two hours.
An added bonus to waiting until the last minute is that the kidlets will be opening all of their presents tomorrow morning and we will not have to be unofficially celebrating "Boxing Day" as we have in the past.
Maybe I should elaborate.
I tend to buy gifts for several months in advance of Christmas and wrap them and hide them. Well, I also tend to forget where all of the packages are hidden. This usually results in me squealing "OH -- fleckin floozin fluff" a day or two after Christmas when I realize that the children aren't playing with that really wonderful watchyamacallit. I then rush off to extract the gifts from their hiding place and exclaim "Happy Boxing Day" as I present the belated gifts to my world-weary children who roll their eyes at me as if to say, "She did it again!"
So there will be no "Boxing Day" this year!
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Thursday, December 23, 2004
Maybe Because It's Christmas
...I don't know, but I had a strange dream last night.
My heart was pounding in fear when a man who threatened me last year (the brother of someone I used to know), sat down on an ottoman in front of the chair I was sitting on. I told him that he scared me, and that my heart was racing, but he said that he was sorry for threatening me last year. So, I told him that I was sorry that things had gone the way they did because it was never how I had wanted them to be in the first place. All I had ever wanted was for all of us to get along. And then I said, you know I am not any of those things you were told. And he said, I am starting to figure that out.
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My heart was pounding in fear when a man who threatened me last year (the brother of someone I used to know), sat down on an ottoman in front of the chair I was sitting on. I told him that he scared me, and that my heart was racing, but he said that he was sorry for threatening me last year. So, I told him that I was sorry that things had gone the way they did because it was never how I had wanted them to be in the first place. All I had ever wanted was for all of us to get along. And then I said, you know I am not any of those things you were told. And he said, I am starting to figure that out.
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Tomorrow is Christmas!
..for us!
Mostly because I can't wait!
I am so excited to see Hockey Boy's face when he opens his gifts. And I know that he is going to want to play with his new stuff. And I am going to want to play with his new stuff.
Darling Daughter already knows what she is getting because she wants clothes and the only way I can do that is to take her shopping, have her try on stuff and then put it all on hold so I can go pick from the pile later -- which I will be doing today sometime. So, while she doesn't know exactly which outfits she will get, she knows approximately what will be under the tree. But she doesn't know about some of the other little things, like music and jewelry that I can sneak under the tree.
After this last semester that we all lived through, I think we deserve an extra day to celebrate. So, yes I know that it is December 24th tomorrow, but SSSHHH, don't tell my kids because we are going to pretend that tomorrow is the day after tomorrow and celebrate early.
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Mostly because I can't wait!
I am so excited to see Hockey Boy's face when he opens his gifts. And I know that he is going to want to play with his new stuff. And I am going to want to play with his new stuff.
Darling Daughter already knows what she is getting because she wants clothes and the only way I can do that is to take her shopping, have her try on stuff and then put it all on hold so I can go pick from the pile later -- which I will be doing today sometime. So, while she doesn't know exactly which outfits she will get, she knows approximately what will be under the tree. But she doesn't know about some of the other little things, like music and jewelry that I can sneak under the tree.
After this last semester that we all lived through, I think we deserve an extra day to celebrate. So, yes I know that it is December 24th tomorrow, but SSSHHH, don't tell my kids because we are going to pretend that tomorrow is the day after tomorrow and celebrate early.
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11th Hour
wow...
I am not entirely surprised, especially after the sleep I didn't get the night before -- I was up studying until 12:45 a.m. on Tuesday night (technically Wednesday morning) for my 8:00 a.m. Wednesday morning World Lit Final. I woke up at 3:30 a.m. on Wednesday morning to finish studying so *does math in head* that was less than 3 hours of sleep. Instead of being able to go home and nap, I ran a full day before crashing at 10:00 p.m. Evidently, I fell asleep watching Grumpy Old Men with the kids. They locked down the house and sent me to my bedroom around 10:15 p.m. where I slept like I was drugged until 9:15 this morning. *Does more math in head*. That was 11 hours of sleep, all at once! Holy Cow! I don't remember the last time I slept for 11 hours in a row.
It was great. And I feel great.
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I am not entirely surprised, especially after the sleep I didn't get the night before -- I was up studying until 12:45 a.m. on Tuesday night (technically Wednesday morning) for my 8:00 a.m. Wednesday morning World Lit Final. I woke up at 3:30 a.m. on Wednesday morning to finish studying so *does math in head* that was less than 3 hours of sleep. Instead of being able to go home and nap, I ran a full day before crashing at 10:00 p.m. Evidently, I fell asleep watching Grumpy Old Men with the kids. They locked down the house and sent me to my bedroom around 10:15 p.m. where I slept like I was drugged until 9:15 this morning. *Does more math in head*. That was 11 hours of sleep, all at once! Holy Cow! I don't remember the last time I slept for 11 hours in a row.
It was great. And I feel great.
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Tuesday, December 21, 2004
Final Push
One final down, one to go. I am so not ready to take this test. But, just like childbirth, all finals come and go, and eventually you forget the pain involved.
Each semester has been like being pregnant and eventually giving birth to a bundle of credits. There are highs and lows. There are days that things go well and there are days that exhaust you for no apparent reason. There are headaches and backaches from sitting for endless hours at the computer. There are sleepless nights filled with worry. There is the feeling that this semester will never end. And as the days unfold, the tension builds until it feels like you are going to explode during the big push of finals week. Each exam brings you closer to the long awaited end, when you pace for weeks waiting for the results to be posted -- will it be a big strapping "B" or a healthy, robust "A" or maybe an all-American "C"?
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Each semester has been like being pregnant and eventually giving birth to a bundle of credits. There are highs and lows. There are days that things go well and there are days that exhaust you for no apparent reason. There are headaches and backaches from sitting for endless hours at the computer. There are sleepless nights filled with worry. There is the feeling that this semester will never end. And as the days unfold, the tension builds until it feels like you are going to explode during the big push of finals week. Each exam brings you closer to the long awaited end, when you pace for weeks waiting for the results to be posted -- will it be a big strapping "B" or a healthy, robust "A" or maybe an all-American "C"?
* * * * *
On a lighter note, I am probably the only one I know who was almost late to a final because I couldn't find Hockey Boy's athletic cup.
It goes like this...
Once upon a time there was a mother trying to go to school and create a normal life for her children on the side. This means that even though mom has a final that is no excuse for Hockey Boy to miss Monday night practice. So, seeing that the schedule is going to be tight, College Student/Hockey Mom does some quick calculations and realizes that if she packs Hockey Boy's equipment then she can pull off her illusion.
That is of course if she can find all 128 pieces (poet license) of safety equipment Hockey Boy needs to harmlessly slam himself into the boards. But, just to add drama to her day, the primary piece of equipment is not with all the other armor, which is hanging in the garage (airing out... have you ever smelled hockey equipment?!!).
So the tension mounts as she scurries from one room to the next, her frantic pace increasing with each unsuccessful search. She plows through the house, leaving a wake of overturned ... everything ... behind her. Stealing a quick glance at the clock, her heartbeat quickens -- time is running out. She heads to the one place that no reasonable mother would ever think to look, his bedroom floor. But it is not there, and her desperation mounts as she considers admitting defeat. It just can't be done! No one can be both a Hockey Mom and a College Student at the same time.
On a freak impulse, she yanks open the dresser drawers, knowing that there is no way he would have actually put something away. He NEVER puts anything away! But for once, she is ecstatic to be wrong. With snake-like speed she lunges for the nut cup and dashes to the open equipment bag. Zipping and dragging the packed bag, she struggles for the door. If she makes all the green lights she just might make it! And she does, with no time to spare. She glides into the final exam just as the professor is handing out the test to the last row! Victory!
All of this so that she can race to the school, pick up Hockey Boy, race to the rink, dress him in layers of body armor so she can watch the son she labored over fly around the rink chasing after a 3 inch wedge of black rubber. And I'd do it all again, in a heartbeat. (And probably will next semester)
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Friday, December 17, 2004
*Note*
If you're riding with me tomorrow morning, and you know who you are, dress in very, very warm gear.
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It is a good weekend to be Hockey Boy~
Today, he got his hockey ride back -- WITH FLAMES!
Tonight, he got to ride on the Zamboni.
Tomorrow, his first game as a goalie.
Yep, it is good to be Hockey Boy.
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Today, he got his hockey ride back -- WITH FLAMES!
Tonight, he got to ride on the Zamboni.
Tomorrow, his first game as a goalie.
Yep, it is good to be Hockey Boy.
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Thursday, December 16, 2004
A Little Something
Good Morning.
Last night I had an angel stop at my front door.
I was handed 3 envelopes and each contained a very nice surprise.
Somebody, who shall remain nameless, made not only my day but did so for both of my children as well.
If this blog was still active I would post this there.
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Last night I had an angel stop at my front door.
I was handed 3 envelopes and each contained a very nice surprise.
Somebody, who shall remain nameless, made not only my day but did so for both of my children as well.
If this blog was still active I would post this there.
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Wednesday, December 15, 2004
I am done. Except for one tiny little project to do that I can finish tomorrow, I have two finals and then the semester from the center of Hell is over!
The shorter Winter Break hardly seems like it is going to be enough time to rekindle me after this serious bout of burn-out.
Right now, all I want to do is go back to doing the things I know I am good at, the things I know how to do, the things that bring structure and security to my life.
I spent the whole day at my children's school helping first in my daughter's classroom and then moving over to help in my son's class. I even got to eat lunch with my son! (Which was a huge unexpected treat for both of us).
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The shorter Winter Break hardly seems like it is going to be enough time to rekindle me after this serious bout of burn-out.
Right now, all I want to do is go back to doing the things I know I am good at, the things I know how to do, the things that bring structure and security to my life.
I spent the whole day at my children's school helping first in my daughter's classroom and then moving over to help in my son's class. I even got to eat lunch with my son! (Which was a huge unexpected treat for both of us).
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No flames yet.
Maybe tomorrow.
Just got a message from the shop and they say it might be done by tomorrow. But, then again, we've been here before.
And so we wait.
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Maybe tomorrow.
Just got a message from the shop and they say it might be done by tomorrow. But, then again, we've been here before.
And so we wait.
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Monday, December 13, 2004
Sunday, December 12, 2004
It's Not Just Me
There seems to be a unanimous feeling among every college student that I have talked to; this semester has been the hardest by far, of any of the previous semesters that we have all survived. No one can contribute any sort of hypothesis as to why this may be so, but without exception everyone has said that getting through this semester has been a bigger battle than most.
When I started this fall I was concerned because I was still feeling the effects of burn-out but I let other people talk me into disregarding my own intuition. Next semester I am cutting way back. I have realized, through the struggle that this semester has been, that my intuition was right, I was not ready to be back and most definitely not ready to be back with 15 credits.
I want to graduate. I want to earn my degrees. But I am starting to wonder if I can actually do it. When I think that maybe I won't be able to keep this going I get really sad. For almost 20 years I have wanted to be back in college, and graduating. But going to school and raising my kids on my own is taking a toll. My kids are stressed out. They are sick of all the homework that I have all the time. They have both told me at various times this semester that they miss me, even though we are not apart -- they miss me. My kids come first. That's all there is to it. I guess I have to be willing to let my dream of graduating college die. So for now, I take it one semester at a time.
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* * * * *
When I started this fall I was concerned because I was still feeling the effects of burn-out but I let other people talk me into disregarding my own intuition. Next semester I am cutting way back. I have realized, through the struggle that this semester has been, that my intuition was right, I was not ready to be back and most definitely not ready to be back with 15 credits.
I want to graduate. I want to earn my degrees. But I am starting to wonder if I can actually do it. When I think that maybe I won't be able to keep this going I get really sad. For almost 20 years I have wanted to be back in college, and graduating. But going to school and raising my kids on my own is taking a toll. My kids are stressed out. They are sick of all the homework that I have all the time. They have both told me at various times this semester that they miss me, even though we are not apart -- they miss me. My kids come first. That's all there is to it. I guess I have to be willing to let my dream of graduating college die. So for now, I take it one semester at a time.
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Saturday, December 11, 2004
What a wonderful day we had.
We went to watch a Squirt level hockey game. The team we were rooting for lost 9 to 6 but our friend scored a goal for his team!
Then we went to a friend's house to study and make homemade cookies. I had probably the best cup of tea that I think I have ever had -- almost good enough to make me switch from coffee. (And that is saying a lot from a devoted coffee drinker). We were having fun and our time to go came too quickly.
We came home to get ready for a fish-fry with some other friends. This was the first time that we had this family over and it will certainly be the first of many visits. Everyone had a nice time, and our company stayed 2 hours longer than they had planned for, which I think is a good indication that they also enjoyed their visit with us.
And tomorrow is going to be another fun day with another hockey game to watch and some Christmas cookies to bake and decorate, and maybe even some football to watch. That is, if we can get out onto the streets in our go-cart/rental car. We are having a freezing rain fall right now that is putting a slick veneer on everything in sight. I hope it warms up a bit or else driving could be too dangerous.
Hmmm, hot chocolate with mini-marshmallows might have to worked into the To-Do list at some point tomorrow...
K~ Say Goodnight Gracie!
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We went to watch a Squirt level hockey game. The team we were rooting for lost 9 to 6 but our friend scored a goal for his team!
Then we went to a friend's house to study and make homemade cookies. I had probably the best cup of tea that I think I have ever had -- almost good enough to make me switch from coffee. (And that is saying a lot from a devoted coffee drinker). We were having fun and our time to go came too quickly.
We came home to get ready for a fish-fry with some other friends. This was the first time that we had this family over and it will certainly be the first of many visits. Everyone had a nice time, and our company stayed 2 hours longer than they had planned for, which I think is a good indication that they also enjoyed their visit with us.
And tomorrow is going to be another fun day with another hockey game to watch and some Christmas cookies to bake and decorate, and maybe even some football to watch. That is, if we can get out onto the streets in our go-cart/rental car. We are having a freezing rain fall right now that is putting a slick veneer on everything in sight. I hope it warms up a bit or else driving could be too dangerous.
Hmmm, hot chocolate with mini-marshmallows might have to worked into the To-Do list at some point tomorrow...
K~ Say Goodnight Gracie!
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Thursday, December 09, 2004
Burning Desire
Do you remember this?
Well, apparently my son has a red phone to God because in just one day -- as in tomorrow -- he will have the desire of his heart fulfilled.
Actually to tell you the truth, I am very excited about this too. It has been years in the waiting. And while it may appear to be a typical midlife crisis, there is no essence of crisis involved and I have never been typical. But to know that you would have had to have known me prior to 1987 when I naively allowed someone else's opinions of me to become more important than my own. Before 1987, I would boldly wear hot pink and speak my mind. I had no problem enjoying life and I was not embarrassed about my enjoyment. But all of that changed sometime in September of 1987 when a slow and deliberate attempt to re-invent me was launched. To tell you the truth I didn't even realize it was happening for almost a year, until one day I realized that I had lost touch with all of my closest friends (they were not "his" friends, and therefore "unacceptable" -- a word that I have come to loath). And I no longer had any colorful clothing in my wardrobe. Maybe during this period of my life, I was more typical than I have ever been.
Over the years I went from being an alive, energetic, vibrant young woman to what could best be described as a modern day Victorian prude, all in an effort to please him, make him happy (anything to make the abuses stop). But somewhere in a deeper part of my heart, I kept a scrapbook of memories of a young woman who loved to laugh and have adventures. I must have instinctively know that he could not be trusted with these precious treasures and I guarded them fiercely.
But now, now he has been dethroned. For the past five years, no maybe more like eight years, I have been slowly unpacking the boxes and rediscovering what was almost lost. Eight years ago, I had my ears repierced because I had made a promise to myself to never become so "old" that I would loose the multiple piercings in my ears. It was my first step of rebelling against the oppressive restraints that had been forced upon me. (Real mothers don't have three piercings in one ear and two in another *gasp*! It was simply unacceptable!)
Well, here's a news flash: Real mothers come in all shapes and sizes and are real women too! They bleed and hurt and make mistakes just like anyone else. Even Mary Poppins is only practically perfect in every way.
With each passing year I have become stronger and stronger, more rooted in the knowledge that it was not me that was unacceptable, rather it was him, his expectations. (There is nothing wrong with a colorful wardrobe). Good mothers are mothers who are honest with their children. A Good Mother make mistakes, and then use those mistakes to teach her children how to handle life when you've made a mistake. And a Good Mother models how to enjoy this adventure called life. In this particular case, by getting flames painted on the front of the family SUV.
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Well, apparently my son has a red phone to God because in just one day -- as in tomorrow -- he will have the desire of his heart fulfilled.
Actually to tell you the truth, I am very excited about this too. It has been years in the waiting. And while it may appear to be a typical midlife crisis, there is no essence of crisis involved and I have never been typical. But to know that you would have had to have known me prior to 1987 when I naively allowed someone else's opinions of me to become more important than my own. Before 1987, I would boldly wear hot pink and speak my mind. I had no problem enjoying life and I was not embarrassed about my enjoyment. But all of that changed sometime in September of 1987 when a slow and deliberate attempt to re-invent me was launched. To tell you the truth I didn't even realize it was happening for almost a year, until one day I realized that I had lost touch with all of my closest friends (they were not "his" friends, and therefore "unacceptable" -- a word that I have come to loath). And I no longer had any colorful clothing in my wardrobe. Maybe during this period of my life, I was more typical than I have ever been.
Over the years I went from being an alive, energetic, vibrant young woman to what could best be described as a modern day Victorian prude, all in an effort to please him, make him happy (anything to make the abuses stop). But somewhere in a deeper part of my heart, I kept a scrapbook of memories of a young woman who loved to laugh and have adventures. I must have instinctively know that he could not be trusted with these precious treasures and I guarded them fiercely.
But now, now he has been dethroned. For the past five years, no maybe more like eight years, I have been slowly unpacking the boxes and rediscovering what was almost lost. Eight years ago, I had my ears repierced because I had made a promise to myself to never become so "old" that I would loose the multiple piercings in my ears. It was my first step of rebelling against the oppressive restraints that had been forced upon me. (Real mothers don't have three piercings in one ear and two in another *gasp*! It was simply unacceptable!)
Well, here's a news flash: Real mothers come in all shapes and sizes and are real women too! They bleed and hurt and make mistakes just like anyone else. Even Mary Poppins is only practically perfect in every way.
With each passing year I have become stronger and stronger, more rooted in the knowledge that it was not me that was unacceptable, rather it was him, his expectations. (There is nothing wrong with a colorful wardrobe). Good mothers are mothers who are honest with their children. A Good Mother make mistakes, and then use those mistakes to teach her children how to handle life when you've made a mistake. And a Good Mother models how to enjoy this adventure called life. In this particular case, by getting flames painted on the front of the family SUV.
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Wednesday, December 08, 2004
Taking My First "I"
I went to my advisor yesterday afternoon, who also happens to be one of my professors this sememster. I wore knee pads (not really) fully expecting to have to do some serious groveling regarding the 4 five-page essays that are over due -- not to mention the other 2 one-page reviews that fall into that same category. But I was overwhelmed instead by a wave of compassion from this one-time single-mother/college-student turned professor.
Not only did she grant me the "I" I was requesting she assured me that it was normal for every college student to experience this at some point or another. She then told me of her own experiences with "I"s in college and I felt so much better.
All of the sudden I didn't feel like throwing up anymore -- despite living a nightmare (tell you about that one later). I have until January something to get my essays finished and then I will get my grade. Phew!
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Not only did she grant me the "I" I was requesting she assured me that it was normal for every college student to experience this at some point or another. She then told me of her own experiences with "I"s in college and I felt so much better.
All of the sudden I didn't feel like throwing up anymore -- despite living a nightmare (tell you about that one later). I have until January something to get my essays finished and then I will get my grade. Phew!
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Monday, December 06, 2004
Little Bemidji
I'm watching the lake. It is starting to freeze around the edges. A couple of days ago it looked like it had frozen over, but then it warmed up and I could see that there was still open water in the middle.
But, as I drive around town I am slightly amused by the appearance of all the little houses in people's driveways. I noticed it about two, maybe three weeks ago -- the sighting of one shack here, another there. And everyday there are more and more joining their ranks as the anticipation builds for the foundation to be formed so that "Little Bemidji" can take shape again.
In some ways this reminds me of scavengers inching closer to the kill. They move in, a little at a time, hovering, waiting for just the right moment. And as soon as possible, there will be flocks of them descending upon the frozen tundra, forming the ever-changing little shanty town on the ice.
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But, as I drive around town I am slightly amused by the appearance of all the little houses in people's driveways. I noticed it about two, maybe three weeks ago -- the sighting of one shack here, another there. And everyday there are more and more joining their ranks as the anticipation builds for the foundation to be formed so that "Little Bemidji" can take shape again.
In some ways this reminds me of scavengers inching closer to the kill. They move in, a little at a time, hovering, waiting for just the right moment. And as soon as possible, there will be flocks of them descending upon the frozen tundra, forming the ever-changing little shanty town on the ice.
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Wednesday, December 01, 2004
Making My Day
Yesterday was Mother/Son Day in my world.
My son hung out with me all day. This was not like the National Take-Your-Daughter-To-Work Day. This was more like Take-Your-Sick-Son-With-You-To-School-Day.
In a perfect world, I would have stayed home, fussing over my very ill son. I would have made him hot chicken noodle soup, cocoa and toast. I would have tucked him into warm blankets and propped him up in bed so he could alternate between watching cartoons and sleeping. I would have helped him blow his nose, and I would have rubbed his back.
But in reality, I dosed him up on children's cold meds and bundled him up with a fleece blankie and headed off to school because this is the last week for most of my classes and I had things that I absolutely could not afford to miss; like a German movie in my International Film Class, and a ten-page fiction story for my final in my Fiction Writing Class.
So, I had plans to bring him to movie class with me because the film we are seeing is an older German film and I would not be able to get a copy of it in time to see it before the end of the semester. I was hoping that it would not be too visually bizarre, as most German films are rather expressionistic. And I was also counting on the dialogue being subtitled so he wouldn't be able to understand it. Well, it is subtitled. But that's about all it has going for it.
Luckily one of my classmates had previewed it and when she saw my sick son and seeing I didn't have much of choice, she briefly explained that very quickly this film becomes very shocking visually and it would not be appropriate for him see it despite the German dialogue. Well, I had two minutes to decide what to do.
Again, I got lucky. There are some wonderful women that work in the Writing Center and that is where the DS and I had just come from. They knew my situation (sick son) and when I came back and explained the newest situation (film) they assured me that it would be fine to leave him on the couch for the hour and a half that I would be in class! It was too kind and it belongs on this website!
When I got back from class, they told me he had fallen asleep for most of the time I was gone. I tried to express my gratitude, but again, the words "Thank You" just seem so inconsequential to how I really feel. My classmate who had seen the film was right. This is a truly bizarre movie visually and it would have been horrible for my DS have to sit through it.
Thank you to Tiffany! You rock! and Natasha! You Rock too! Thanks! You ladies are so thoughtful.
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My son hung out with me all day. This was not like the National Take-Your-Daughter-To-Work Day. This was more like Take-Your-Sick-Son-With-You-To-School-Day.
In a perfect world, I would have stayed home, fussing over my very ill son. I would have made him hot chicken noodle soup, cocoa and toast. I would have tucked him into warm blankets and propped him up in bed so he could alternate between watching cartoons and sleeping. I would have helped him blow his nose, and I would have rubbed his back.
But in reality, I dosed him up on children's cold meds and bundled him up with a fleece blankie and headed off to school because this is the last week for most of my classes and I had things that I absolutely could not afford to miss; like a German movie in my International Film Class, and a ten-page fiction story for my final in my Fiction Writing Class.
So, I had plans to bring him to movie class with me because the film we are seeing is an older German film and I would not be able to get a copy of it in time to see it before the end of the semester. I was hoping that it would not be too visually bizarre, as most German films are rather expressionistic. And I was also counting on the dialogue being subtitled so he wouldn't be able to understand it. Well, it is subtitled. But that's about all it has going for it.
Luckily one of my classmates had previewed it and when she saw my sick son and seeing I didn't have much of choice, she briefly explained that very quickly this film becomes very shocking visually and it would not be appropriate for him see it despite the German dialogue. Well, I had two minutes to decide what to do.
Again, I got lucky. There are some wonderful women that work in the Writing Center and that is where the DS and I had just come from. They knew my situation (sick son) and when I came back and explained the newest situation (film) they assured me that it would be fine to leave him on the couch for the hour and a half that I would be in class! It was too kind and it belongs on this website!
When I got back from class, they told me he had fallen asleep for most of the time I was gone. I tried to express my gratitude, but again, the words "Thank You" just seem so inconsequential to how I really feel. My classmate who had seen the film was right. This is a truly bizarre movie visually and it would have been horrible for my DS have to sit through it.
Thank you to Tiffany! You rock! and Natasha! You Rock too! Thanks! You ladies are so thoughtful.
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