Time for New Things

This past Lent, I gave up my personal gritch but she spent the last few hours before Easter making sure I'd know that this battle would go on unto death.  We have been slack in our organization of the back basement. It's easy because you can shut the door and only go down once a month to change the filter and say, "This basement is a mess, we should clean it up." Then you go upstairs and forget about it until next mortgage payment day.   It was easy until this past Saturday.  My daughter went down and she found water.  It was bad.

We spent Holy Saturday clearing out the basement of papers, sorting what could be salvaged.  Because my husband was at the office preparing for a Monday business trip, I drafted all my children into work. Trips to the grocery store were postponed.  Trips to the department store for shoes for one child were forgotten.  By the end, my helpers had discovered Lord of the Rings was on television and one by one succumb to watching.  I'd cleaned all day and still in the end, I was left alone. 

Clearing out lesson plans from my teaching days of 17 years ago, it made me angry. It made me frustrated.  I saw all these fun things once ago I planned that I was no longer doing.  I saw all my kids doing fun things and I was here cleaning the smelly spidery basement.  Even my shop vac quit on me.   I felt tired and unready for Easter even as I mused that a wish I'd held, to clear out the backbasement had been fulfilled. The cleaned out room did not bring me joy.  It only meant I could now see how the rest of the house needed work too. I felt just as messy and spidery and smelly and empty.

At mass the next day, we arrived looking a bit unready.  One child was wearing a dress that was a bit too old for her, we had no shoes for the baby, three kids had struggled with their hair that morning and it showed.  Sitting in a pew all by ourselves, I was forced twice to take kids to the bathroom. But somewhere in that morning in the midst of the song at the presentation of the gifts, I felt unbidden, the understanding of what these past 40 days had been supposed to be about for me. 

I have nine children. 

For the past year, I have been becoming adjusted to managing all of them; but it has been about treading water, making sure we got through the bare minimum of any given day.  Teeth brushed, three meals, homework done.   It has been functional.  I've done more sometimes, but at that mass, I felt the dull recognition that I had become conditioned to seek to do the minimum and no more.  Looking at those old lesson plans made me realize I had somehow drained a lot of the color out of parenting for function.

Parenting should be about every color and sparkles and stickiness and joy bordering on garrishness.  It wasn't that I'd been depressed, it's that I had supressed myself.  The practical gritch had sought to remove all fun from parenting by emphasizing how much effort fun was, and to keep me from even participating. 

"You have this very light cross to care for lots of people.  It is now time to put on the joyful mask." I remembered how much fun I'd had as a teacher. I could hear in the whispers of the choir's song at the bringing of the gifts.  My gift I had been hording unto atrophy, burrying it.  It was time to dig it up and start bringing it to the altar every day and offering it.   Walking up for communion, it was hard to keep from crying or smiling or laughing, I felt all three and the overwhelmed hope that I wouldn't forget this lesson that seemed so obvious and so easy and yet so hard to embrace.  

It is Easter, it is Spring. Rejoice.  It is time for something new.

7 Quick Takes

1.

Spring is here..or was...

Three days ago, it was gorgeous and the frogs and toads and bunnies and 12 deer roamed through our back yard.  Today it is freezing.  In an unrelated event, three days ago my son announced that he was going to catch some frogs to show his siblings.  He marched out with gloves and a bucket.  Shortly thereafter, I heard the yip of joy that indicated a successful amphibian hunt. "I got two! I got two! They're huge and guess what!  They're stuck together!" 

I know it's just nature. I know I shouldn't anthropromorphosize creatures but I felt really sorry for these two toads stuck in a home depot bucket with five children peering down on them in their twitterpated state.  "Put them BACK in the POND." was all I could muster.  "Why?" was the obvious chorus outcry at the parent demand.  "Just trust me. They'll be much happier back in the water."  Oy.  Not sure the toad population will recover. 

2.  Let Sleeping Parents Lie...

Yesterday I was tired. I didn't know I was that tired, but I was.  Helping my second grader with her homework, we were stationed on the floor going over her papers.  I put my head down.  I awoke to find I'd been tucked in under a comforter with a pillow and a stuffed bunny and she had finished her math. 

3.  Gotta Dance! Don't Have to Know How to Walk Before I Do.... 

Paul now groves to southern fried rock. If there's a piano plinking down with a base electric guitar, he pulls up in his crib and dances and sometimes just for a second, lets go of the railing.  So when Paul learns to walk, he'll owe it all to Eric Clapton, ZZtop and a few others who happen to be on this mix CD.  

4. Just Keep Swimming

Yesterday, I signed up six of the nine for lessons.  As a parent, there are times when you set your teeth, this is going to happen.  This summer, I have set my teeth, that four of the six signed up will have the skills necessary to swim a lap without touching the ground by the time September has rolled around.  

5.  A Nag from the Book I wasn't Reading about the Book I've not finished Writing

As some of you may know, I have a 3/4th of the way finished book, the Book of Helen.  I've been stuck for some time and not really wanted to address the you wrote without an outline so look where that got your mess that resulted.  But last night, I knocked over a book I'd received several years ago about the compelete writings of Leonardo DaVinci and it landed on a quote about Helen and her feelings about growing old.  So I started editing again last night.   Chapter 1.  Sigh.  I don't want to produce the next great American novel. I want to produce the next Great American Best Seller.  

6. When Toddlers giggle too much

When you hear sounds of song and laughter, how long is the lag time where you can enjoy hearing them before YOU know you must investigate because they are probably doing something unthinkable?  Answer: I'll be right back....they were singing and dancing on my bed. It made a splendid stage.  It right now does not look like a very good bed. 

7.  FYI

The Erma Bombeck Conference has one opening left. I can't go but you could and if you like writing, I highly recommend it, it's loads of fun and several of the presenters were there as participants last time around.  Bruce Cammeron and Suzette Standring are two of the speakers and valuable resources for any aspiring columnist itching to become a household name.  Go to the Erma Bombeck Writer's Conference. I know it will say it is closed. It is not.  If you hustle, you can go to Dayton April 15-17th and have a weekend filled with great tips not to mention a lot of laughs. 

Find other 7 Quick takes at http://www.conversiondiary.com/! 

7 Quick Takes Friday

1.

Happy Saint Joseph's Day! 

We're celebrating with delivery pepperoni pizza and soda and a game of Catan.  Also, their father comes home from a three day trip to California so the day will be all the happier once the kids get to see their Dad.

2.

Yes, you're Lovely....

My son is in a musical and also a jazz ensemble band at his high school.  As such, last night was a late night with practices and performances.  Taking the metro home, it broke down at White Flint where my kid joined up with the touring Yale men's choir.  They decided to throw an impromptu concert for the other stranded victims of Washington's mass transit system and took requests.  "Hello Dolly" was problematic when they realized they lacked a Dolly; and there was some discussion about the actual lyrics of "A Whole New World" but "The Way You Look Tonight" drew appreciative applause from fellow passengers. 

3. 

Anticipated Joy

One of my daughters opted to give up all beverages except water for a week as a form of fasting and awareness that much of the world struggles to acquire even that drink in sufficient abundance for healthy everyday living.  She had one slip up where she poured a lemonade and drank it without thinking but other than that she held to her promise.   I'm terribly moved that she chose this fasting and am excited to see the young lady she will become in the next few years.  

4.

Spring

We see grass. We see daffodils.  Bunnies and deer have returned.  I go outside and almost blink in surprise that it is pleasant.  Going outside into the sunshine is the best cure for listening to the political mess going on inside the beltway. My husband had the blessing to see a whale slap the water as he looked out over the ocean on the West coast.  It's curative to discover the real real world; as opposed to the real clear mess that is real clear politics.

5.

Growth

Paul stood for a clear second today. Twice.  He is 18 months. What I love best is he knew it because he giggled as he tumbled into my arms. Then he applauded himself. Wish I could have recorded that sound for this little story. It is like a bubble of happiness when he laughs.  

6.

Hopeful Thinking

Lent has resulted in the loss of 7 pounds. I may break the 150 barrier this weekend.  Maybe I'll keep to the lean cusine pizza and diet coke for myself tonight. 

7.

Everything I Fail to Learn

Back when I was a kid, somehow I never mastered the state capitals. I'm sure we were tested but I just don't remember studying. Now, as I prepare my fourth grader for his capital test, I've become aware of the fact that I am gradually learning all the things I blew off in school, if only because of repetition.  Hopefully, the kids will get around to teaching me French, World History and Chemistry.  I really didn't get them the first time around.

Spring Thaw

One of the problems I face raising so many children, is getting into a parental rut; like not varying the menu or not thinking to expose my kids to a type of art work because for me, I’ve done this six times before. The tone I use with the three pre-schoolers cannot apply to older, nor can the ironic humor used with teens be salted in conversations with pre-teens. If you only eat Nutella, you forget other chocolates like semi-sweet have a beauty that’s worth appreciating. Drinking only one type of wine or hearing only one kind of song will ultimately become dull. Parenting the same way with everyone is a guaranteed recipe for failure. As of late, the sheer numbers had resulted in my engaging in mostly triage style parenting, fixing what needed help the most and trying to just muddle through the rest.

Playing ball, the kids began a rhyming game and I had to marvel at how quickly my older children molded their behavior to keep the younger ones engaged. I conceded, I had been an all work and no fun parent as of late. Fortunately, my daughters and sons keep providing me with their fresh perspectives. Without their everyday examples, I’m not sure how one could rediscover experiencing toddlerhood the eighth time around and continue to recognize that a day spent scribble scrabbling through an entire ream of paper is much better time spent than even a few minutes agonizing over a difficult Sudoku.

The other day, my daughter put out the paper and crayons as soon as breakfast was over and had the toddlers make periscopes so they could play pirates. The project lasted all of 20 minutes but the joy was contagious and soon I had swabs running about the house saying “ARRR” and “AVAST” with lots of giggles, whereas boring old me would have cleaned the table and handed out the crayons and paper without the additional prompt.

How long had I been sleeping? These effortless acts that for some reason had for me, taken effort, were all around me. The children needed me to have new eyes too. A mental wall came down, making me wonder when I first put the darn thing up and why?

Suddenly, there were all sorts of possibilities. I could already foresee, reading the lyrics to rock band, our first grader would getting additional reading time and mentally planned a band session for the next day. That week, times tables were an issue for my baseball player, so we’re worked on drilling them as we played catch. “Pop fly Pop Quiz. Seven times Seven.” He had to catch, throw and give the answer. I told him it was just as hard for me without the math. After watching me drop a few routine flies, he agreed.

The calendar may say only March 8th, but the first signs of a real spring are here. For me, parenting is and will always be like listening to opera, watching a movie with subtitles, visiting a museum or hearing baseball on the radio. The experience itself is more pleasurable than the idea of the experience, and I need to not be put off by the concepts which often sound dryer and duller than the reality. The thaw of my hibernating fun parent has begun.

Yesterday was beautiful so we went outside. One daughter had too much homework, but in keeping with the new policy to squeeze in a little fun, she dribbled the basketball under the table as she worked on her geometry. The old me started to mess with it, after all, she was in the house, it was loud, what if the toddlers try to do this…visions of messes threatened to create six more weeks of winter. Then I remembered myself in a desk. Even in graduate school, my leg was always bouncing, I never sat still. Even in tests, I’d be almost twitching to get out of my seat and my notebooks were illustrated with dragons on every page whenever a lecture was taking place.

I made myself smile and ushered the younger ones outside to bike a game of red light green light, but before leaving, I drew a dragon on her worksheet. "Keep up the good work." I added.
“Cool Mom.” and she kept on dribbling. “Look, with my left hand too."

P.S. There are lots of lessons I’m taking in from this most recent child’s brief life, not the least of which is, whatever I’m currently worrying or obsessing about, it isn’t important. Life raising nine children suddenly seems a lot less difficult than I previously thought it was, and thus I am grateful to this little one for bringing with her, the gift of perspective.