Can someone get this boy a pack animal?
In an effort to lighten his load, I helped him clean out his backpack last night...
What the ??
Zerrissenheit
Here's how things are going.
I ran into the store today to pick up a few things for dinner. As I was loading Ethan and the groceries into the car to head home I remembered that I had forgotten to buy sourdough bread for Olivia's class tomorrow. (They are having a "cowboy celebration.") She told me about the bread last night and I have no sourdough starter going in my fridge. At least I remembered in the parking lot. I unloaded Ethan and we ran back in to pick up the bread.
Phew.
Got home, out of breath, the phone's ringing. It's Olivia.
"Um, Mom, someone else is bringing the sourdough bread. Can you bring a crockpot of pork and beans?"
I swallowed my "grrr" and my sigh. I love going to the store three times a day.
I'm losing my mind and it's not just because of the bread or the pork and beans. Sometimes there is just so much that I am dizzy from being the "center of the wheel."
Anne Morrow Lindbergh in her book, Gift from the Sea (a book, incidentally, my mother would not let me read until I was "old enough"...wise woman) wrote: [This is long, but brilliant.]
"The life I have chosen as wife and mother entrains a whole caravan of complications. It involves a house in the suburbs and either household drudgery or household help which wavers between scarcity and non-existence for most of us. It involves food and shelter, meals, planning, marketing, bills, and making the ends meet in a thousand ways. It involves not only the butcher, the baker, the candlestickmaker but countless other experts to keep my modern house with its modern "simplifications" (electricity, plumbing, refrigerator, gas-stove, oil-burner, dishwasher, radios, car, and numerous other labor-saving devices) functioning properly. It involves health; doctors, dentists, appointments, medicine, cod-liver oil, vitamins, trips to the drugstore. It involves education, spiritual, intellectual, physical; schools, school conferences, carpools, extra trips for basketball or orchestra practice; tutoring and transportation. It involves clothes, shopping, laundry, cleaning, mending, letting skirts down and sewing buttons on, or finding someone else to do it. It involves friends, my husband's, my children's, my own, and endless arrangements to get together, letters, invitations, telephone calls and transportation hither and yon.
My mind reels with it. What a circus act we women perform every day of our lives. It puts the trapeze artist to shame. Look at us. We run a tight rope daily, balancing a pile of books on the head. Baby-carriage, parasol, kitchen chair, still under control. Steady now!
Woman's life today is tending more and more toward the state William James describes so well in the German word, "Zerrissenheit--torn-to-pieces-hood." She cannot live perpetually in "Zerrissenheit." She will be shattered into a thousand pieces."
Zerrissenheit, exactly.
This week has been full to bursting with things to do and I have shouldered that load alone, as my husband has been swamped at work. (Came in last night after midnight and was out of bed before 5.) I feel my shattering coming on, its hot breath on the back of my neck.
Just this afternoon, somehow I have to get Caleb to violin lesson and scouts, transport and support Savannah at the school talent show (with costume), go to a wedding reception for one of my former young women, buy a gift for said reception, help Caleb finish up his science fair project, practice the spelling words (tests tomorrow), prod my kids to get their homework done, make dinner, clean up, finish folding the laundry from Monday, go to book club, and finish my visiting teaching....oh, and also make a crock pot of pork and beans for tomorrow.
I'm tired.
Ethan came up to me this morning and said, "Wake up sleepyhead!" And I wasn't in bed or asleep at the time...just fogged over from the lists in my head. This balancing act is taking all my powers of concentration.
Eating Our Way Through the Color Wheel and Other Wonders
When I was younger my mother always advised me to serve dinner with lots of colors in it. Last night, I took this a little more literally than is really advisable.
I took dinner to my sister and her family, as she just brought a gorgeous little girl into the world. They requested Chinese food and in an effort to manifest my love to her I made two kinds of chicken (teriyaki and orange) so it would be like they really ordered take-out, you know?
When my kids were little they couldn't say "teriyaki" so we called it "brown chicken." The name stuck, as they always do and last night the kids giggled at the fact that we were having "brown chicken" and "orange chicken" for dinner. We are obviously a family of dining connoisseurs with very discriminating palates. I was bemused and a little mortified to realize that we also have a dish my kids call "white chicken." That's right...for a girl who loves descriptive words, it's baffling to find my food adjectives so seriously lacking.
For Amy...
I got an email this morning from an old college friend, now living with her husband and two "toddlets" in Taiwan. She wrote that she had just received our Christmas letter...mailed mid-December. She wrote, "It went from the states to Beijing, back to D.C., to Effingham (Effing-what?), to Taiwan." Rather than being dismayed that it took so long, I am nothing but amazed that it made it there at all, and once again, in absolute wonderment about the diligence and persistence of the U.S. postal service. They just don't give up until that letter is delivered. Wonder of wonders. There is an equality in the USPS (every letter is important and good and worthy of delivery) that revives my faith in all of humanity.
(Note: Lori, if you read this, please disregard the above mention of "Chinese food" as that is clearly a blasphemy considering your life experiences and current location!)
In other news, we are deep in the bowels of "Science Fair Week" (I named it that to make it sound fun and exciting, but really it just means we are up late and using lots of rubber cement and print cartridges). Caleb is frustrated with our pace, but I DO have to feed these other people and make sure they occasionally have clean underwear. (I am the "editor" and the "wielder-of-the-rotary-cutter" for the project.) His vision is grand and his desire to rewrite is unquenchable. His worries are even more rampant, and he reported yesterday that if he is missing anything he will get a zero and fail the term. Oh my boy.
And last night, LATE, after listening to the account of my husband's day, I remarked how very much he is like his son (or perhaps it is actually the other way around). This thought had never occurred to him and he stared at me incredulously, and then, in wonder, acknowledged that I was right. A stunning revelation.
Word of the Week: Maelstrom
maelstrom /n. / a large, powerful, or violent whirlpool. a restless, disordered, tumultuous state of affairs. a violent or turbulent situation. bedlam. turmoil or chaos. pandemonium. fuss. flap.
maelstrom /n./ 1. I've had it with this word. Plagued by maelstroms all week, I am ready for a new word.
maelstrom /n./ 2. Most of my week was spent inside an internal maelstrom of my own making. (Incidentally, they are almost always of my own making. Why is that?) I was in complete turmoil thinking and planning for my class at our Relief Society Mini-conference. Doubting and fussing for days and days. And truthfully, it did not go quite as I planned and then I fussed about that disaster for the rest of Saturday. The previous session had run over and so they told me they were going to cut my class by ten minutes and hoped that wouldn't mess me up. I was too flustered and nervous to regroup and rearrange what I was going to say right on the spot and so I thought it ended rather lamely. But, the maelstrom has passed, leaving only a bit of regret in its wake, and, after two months of thinking about it, the talk is thankfully out of my head. That is something, I suppose.
Against my better judgement, I have included this picture for those of you curious about the dress and the hair color.
I added the ribbon "for extra beauty," as my Olivia would say. As you can see, RIM won the jewelry argument.
A pity, really.
maelstrom /n./ 3. I was such a maelstrom of emotion when it was all over I told my husband, "I either need to go running, go on a bike ride, have sex, or have a good cry." As none of these seemed related to each other in any way, he just looked at me in wonderment. I really don't know how he survives my maelstroms. It's been a good year since I've done any running so that was sure to end badly. And truth be told I think David was a bit nervous, given my state, about the emotional landmines of option three. So in the end, we went on a bike ride, but I quit halfway through and asked to go home, where I had a good cry. Did you know the word "maelstrom" comes from an actual, famous, swirling, tidal current off the west coast of Norway, hazardous to safe navigation? That was me exactly: hazardous to safe navigation. Poor man.
maelstrom /n./ 4. I took my kids to the dentist on Thursday morning. There was a bit of a flap about missing school for the first hour, but eventually I commandeered them into the car and to the dentist. The dental assistant came and got me when they were examining Ethan and asked, "Does he have a thumb habit?"
I have never in my life seen him suck his thumb and so I said, "No."
The dental assistant looked skeptically at me. "He doesn't have a thumb habit?"
Concerned about my future orthodontic bill, I said, "No. Does he look like he has a thumb habit?"
She looked at me askance and didn't say anything. Her eyebrows said, "Look, lady, I've seen a lot of these and you are not scoring any points by lying to me."
I started hunting around my brain, thinking that maybe all this time I had been lying to myself. Maybe he really does have a thumb habit and I have blissfully ignored it for four and a half years. Could that be? Casting around for something that could producing her skepticism, I said, "He has a blanket habit."
By this time we had made it back to the examining room and she said, knowingly, to her friend, "He sucks on his blanket."
Realizing my mistake, I said, "No he doesn't suck on his blanket. He just carries it around."
She looked at me like I was losing my mind. What would that have to do with his mouth?
So then she turned to Ethan and said, "Do you suck your thumb?" At which point he promptly stuck his thumb in his mouth and began sucking, showing her that, yes, he could actually suck his thumb. She turned her supercilious eyes at me as if to say, "Well? Now what are you going to say?"
My cheeks were on fire. She thought I was lying and Ethan was doing his best to prove her right. Fighting a maelstrom of embarrassment and consternation over this false accusation, I said, "I have never seen him do that. He does not have a thumb habit. He's just showing you that he can suck his thumb if you want him to. Really."
She just looked at me and finally said, "Uh huh." But her eyebrows said, "Me thinks she doth protest too much."
Grrr.
maelstrom /n./ 5. I had two nieces born this week. One to my sister, Rachel and the other to my brother, Jared. Lora and Jane. Darling names, darling girls. Having two girls of my own, I know the kind of maelstroms my brother and sister are in for. Savannah was in a complete fuss last night...sleep finally claimed her...and I smiled to myself a bit (after it was over) thinking of all that lay ahead of my siblings, and the charming, maddening maelstrom that is life with girls. (See #3.)
maelstrom /n./ 6. I can't talk about this final maelstrom of my week "out loud" yet, but it is tumultuous indeed. You'll have to take my word for it. A change I can hardly bear to contemplate is in the works. It has me quite distraught...I told David on Saturday, "This is sorrow of the acutest kind." (You'll find this hard to believe, but I do tend to exaggerate my emotional life, particularly when I'm in the middle of the Jane Austen collection on Masterpiece Theatre.) It truly is not as grave as I've made it sound, but hard for me nonetheless. Like I said, I'm am very ready for a new word.
Inside My Well-Coifed Head
I have to speak tomorrow at our Stake Relief Society Mini-Conference. I went to Target and bought a dress (I know, I know...this is why I'm the fashion laughingstock of my family, but seriously I needed laundry detergent anyway.) I got my hair colored today (a must). And I got my handout made. Clearly, all the most important things are done.
Oh, wait. I do still need to figure out what the heck I'm going to say for forty minutes!
David rolled over this morning and asked, "So, are you ready for your spiel?"
My spiel? My spiel?
Then he said, "Spiel. That's a strange word. Maybe that could be a word-of-the-week."
"Yes," I thought, prickling up, "That is a strange word to use for your WIFE'S TALK! You act like I'm hawking magic fruit and vegetable juicers on QVC." He got a reluctant, grumbly kiss on his way out the door.
This morning I overheard RIM and CIM arguing.
CIM: I need to go to Target and find some jewelry.
RIM: No, you need to stay home and work on your talk.
CIM: But I want to look fabulous.
RIM: You're not going to feel that way tomorrow when you stand up there with nothing to say. That will not be pretty, no matter what you're wearing.
CIM: Do you think I should get something red since the dress is black or is that too 1987?
RIM: You bought your dress at Target. It's a little late to be worried about what fashion statement you are making.
CIM: (a little hurt) You know, I never feel better about myself after talking to you.
RIM: Tell me about it.
Gourmet Dining
In an effort to "mix things up" around here I put a few new things on the menu this week.
We've had Roasted Mediterranean Chicken, Pad Thai, and Pa Jun (Korean pancakes). The kids were skeptical. I told them to pretend they were missionaries and happily eat whatever new food was served to them.
I have a refrigerator full of leftovers and at least one son who is now decidedly nervous about his mission call.
To add insult to injury, today Ethan had a hot dog for lunch. And exclaimed, "Yummy! Delish! Delectable!"
Delectable?! Where's that dang white flag?
SPT: Pick Me Up
Well. This may be a "too much information" spt, but here goes.
When I need something quick:
Only chocolate will do. Tiff sent me the "good stuff" by Lindt on Friday...thanks, chica! I have hidden it in my little stash.
When I need something a bit deeper:
A bookstore does wonders for my soul. And hey, most of the time it's cheaper than therapy. Most of the time.
But my real cure-all is this:
I will let you read between the lines. Fixes just about everything.
(Aren't you relieved it's not an actual self-portrait?! I know my husband is.)
Word of the Week: Inimically
inimically: /adv./ acting unfriendly, hostile. injurious or harmful in effect. hurtfully. unfavorably. perniciously. detrimentally.
inimically /adv./ 1. At our house we have a division of labor. I do the inside work, and I help David with the outside work. Huh? Ugh. I come from a long line of amazing, green-thumbed gardeners, but I have nothing but inimical feelings towards my yard, and all the work out there that never gets done. Our year-round growing season makes me crazy. And somehow the yard is always last on my priority list. But occasionally, the weeds begin to get utterly ridiculous, and I start imagining dirty looks from the neighbors, and I know "it's time." On Saturday, grumbling inimically and cursing the fall and the noxious weeds and briars and all that, I organized the troops and we headed out to make our yard presentable. Mission accomplished. It is just barely "presentable."
inimically /adv./ 2. David and I have a standing Friday night date. And it's not what you think. Every Friday night at 8:30 we watch the McLaughlin Group fight it out. We're junkies. (And maybe, dorks.) Always entertaining, sometimes informative, inevitably random and loud, we love it. From John McLaughlin's interruptions of, "WRONG!" to Eleanor Clift screaming "Excuse Me!" and Pat Buchanan prefacing everything with, "Look, John..." we enjoy a very lively roundtable regarding the week's political news. And the thing is, no matter how inimically they go after each other they never take it personally, and deep down you can tell they might even like each other. After last Friday's usual raucous discussion, David looked at me and said, "They're crazy." Well. Yes. And also, for me, the only bright spot in the current political landscape.
inimically /adv./ 3. Caleb is winding up his science fair experiments and we have all been shocked to discover that Purell Hand Sanitizer does not behave inimically to germs at all! He found absolutely no change in the growth of the bacteria on his hands after using Purell. (I'll spare you those pictures. Dis.gus.ting.) I have quite happily believed for some time that I was killing germs left and right as I freely dolled out this stuff to my kids. This is, sadly, not the case. So we're back to soap and water around here.
inimically /adv./ 4. And speaking of bacteria (I'm starting to feel like a need to make this a new category), at the end of last week, Olivia showed me what I thought was a spider bite on her lower leg. I told her we would just watch it for a few days and it would be okay. But by Saturday it was a huge, red, puss-filled, angry, inimical blister, and I could see that whatever once was, it was now clearly infected. I took her to the doctor on Monday, concerned about MRSA and other serious complications. He was concerned as well. So after culturing it, he put her on a full-course of "the only out-patient antibiotics that are working on this stuff" (his words). And we are crossing our fingers that it will work on this very inimically disposed bacteria.
Heaven, Hell, and the Wilderness
Dear David,
I tried to find a card. Impossible.
By the time I think of it, the card isles are jammed. You have to stand on tiptoes and read over the shoulders of complete strangers who are willing to throw an elbow to get what they want. And for what? Some insipid sentiments written by somebody who doesn't know what we've been through together, who doesn't know the whole story, who can only guess at how we really feel.
Do you remember Valentine's Day 2000? I know you do, if only because I rehearse it every Valentine's Day. But, I find that I have to talk about it, because it is the evidence of my love, my insides outside.
It was a Monday. You had left me the night before at my parents' house to head back to San Diego for work. I was sick. So past sick. It felt like if I didn't hold tight to life I might just float away. I was pregnant with Savannah and my body was not happy about it. I had been prescribed a new medicine and didn't find out until evening that I was allergic to it. I could not control my jaw or my tongue. They called it a distonic reaction. The top half of my face wanted to face the opposite way of the bottom half of my face. I could not control my own muscles. My mom desperately drove me around town trying to get me some help. Everywhere we went people just stared. We even ended up at an herbalist, and if you know my mom you know how desperate she must have been by then. Unfortunately, this only made me throw up black and green.
When it started to get hard to breathe she took me to the emergency room. When my brother arrived to give me a blessing he said, shocked, "What's wrong with her?" And the nurse quietly asked, "Is she usually normal?" (Clearly not.) Eventually they got me the Benedryl I needed and I gratefully went back to just throwing everything up.
And this was only one day in our story. One day of the many difficult ones. One day of the many joyous ones. Can you see how much I love you? I hope you know it has all been for you. For us.
When we got married, I had high hopes for a perfect life. "Welcome to heaven," and all that. But as you know, it has mostly been a difficult stint in the wilderness, and even at times, brief moments in hell. I didn't know. I didn't know all that we were saying "yes" to. I am so glad it is your hand I am holding in this lone and dreary world. I would have quit just outside of Eden if you weren't there loving me despite, encouraging me even though, cherishing me inspite of, staying regardless of, and fiercely loyal anyway.
I love you. In heaven, in hell, and especially in the wilderness.
Love, Ap
The Rightness and Randomness of Tandemness
'Tis the season, and all that.
I am quite a Valentine's Day scrooge (I just barely bought my kids valentine's to pass out at school, much to their consternation).
But, in honor of the impending holiday, here are a few things you may not know about riding a tandem bike:
[David just walked by and read this line and said, "What impending holiday is coming up?"
Um, Valentine's day? That sounds about right. We celebrate pancakes and spilt milk at our house, but Valentine's day...hmmm, not so much.]
Okay, back to the "bicycle built for two":
A tandem allows two cyclists of differing strength and ability to ride together, pleasurably.
The front rider is commonly known as the "captain." The captain has two major responsibilities:
1. To control the bike, including balancing it whether stopped or in motion, as well as steering, shifting, braking.
2. To keep the stoker happy! A tandem isn't a tandem without a stoker. The captain must earn the stoker's confidence, must stop when the stoker wants to stop, must slow down when the stoker wants to slow down.
Since the stoker cannot see the road directly ahead, the captain has a special responsibility for warning of bumps in the road, so that the stoker can brace for them. When a couple fails to make it as a tandem team, it is almost always due to either the stoker being scared as a result of an incompetent/inconsiderate captain, or due to saddle soreness.
The rear rider is commonly known as the "stoker." The rear rider is not a "passenger", but is an equal participant. The stoker has two main responsibilities:
1. The stoker serves mainly as a motor.
2. The stoker's other major responsibility is a negative one: The stoker must not attempt to steer! Unpredictable weight shifts on the part of the stoker can make the captain's job much harder, and can lead to crashes, in extreme cases. When the stoker needs to shift position on the saddle, or adjust a toe strap, or take a drink, it is vital that they do so without disturbing the equilibrium of the bicycle. These activities should not be attempted at all while the captain is dealing with tricky traffic situations or narrow spaces.
The stoker can also do a bit of back rubbing now and then, as well as taking photographs, singing encouraging songs, reading maps, etc.
The team becomes more than the sum of its parts. An experienced tandem team develops a very special level of non-verbal communication, via subtle weight shifts, variations in pedal force, and general empathy. After a few hundred miles together, you will find yourself coasting at the same time, shifting without the need for discussion, and maneuvering smoothly even at slow speeds. This is not just a matter of each rider acquiring captaining/stoking skills; when two equally experienced teams switch stokers, something is lost, and this special communication doesn't happen...it really is unique to each couple.
Now this is real romance to me. A few hundred [thousand] miles in the saddle together, and still pedalling for each other, with each other, because of each other.