Whoo-hoo! I’ve been a busy bee launching a new project, www.postmodernhousewife.com It’s been coming along, & is definitely in it’s beta version right now, so you might as well check it out! Enjoy and thank you!
XXOO
Blinking Out of Existence
I’m trying a new approach to blogging: just sit down & blog when the desire strikes me. That’s the easy part. The hard part is ignoring what I “should” be doing: clean up the kitchen, skim the pool, fold the laundry, and don’t even talk to me about the kids’ bathroom.
So, here we go.
My friend was recently asking for advice locating her lost, very important set of keys. Folks were chiming in: intuiting spots, offering support, numerological ideas and humor. The next day: the keys are still missing.
I have a pair of beloved diamond earrings that Louie gave me for my birthday several years back. Like many expensive post earrings, the backs of these earrings screw on. Absurdly, the left earring always twisted itself looser, while the right earring twisted itself tighter. (My life is nothing if not absurd.) My habit became checking the earrings’ tightness (or looseness!) throughout the day, and I generally wore the earrings all. the. time. You can see where this is going, right? The loosey earring did fall out once, and I noticed it’s absence when I was combing my hair after a shower. Freak-out ensued, Chance found the tiny gold backing, and I then robotically walked to a not-often-used corner of my bedroom, bent over and picked up the diamond stud. Phew! Close one! Celebration!
A few weeks later, in the middle of the day, I noticed the earring gone again. This time, I knew it was gone baby, gone. Of course, Louie was sympathetic and I actually wondered if things of wealth should not be gifted to me because I have very little attachment to material things. Whatev. I was over it.
Almost a year later we were moving out of our SLO house and into our new home in Paso. I pulled our bed out from the corner (cosleeping = bed in a corner, right?), and started picking up down fluff from the carpet so I could vacuum. A thought flashed through my mind “How rad would it be if I tweeted that I found my long-lost earring?” AND THERE IT WAS. Just like that. One – two. Beats of my heart. Thought – reality. Here’s the kicker: the backing was still screwed on. Think what you may, but I swear that that diamond stud blinked out of existence from my ear.
Most likely, I believe this so strongly because of my experience with another set of nice earrings Louie gave me, this set is single pearl studs. Pearls being more delicate and organic than diamonds, I took care to remove them at the end of the day or before I showered. I always placed them in the same tiny tray in the bathroom. Yet once, they blinked out of existence. Poof. Gone. Time-space continuum? Not so much. And I completely let them go, definitely emotionally; perhaps other ways, too?
Now, when I switch purses I completely clean out one for another. And remove absolutely every little crumb. I do this every so often, when I get bored of one, and bring another out of the closet. We were traveling and I was wearing my 4-pearl necklace (one for each child we have) and I thought “It would be great if I had my pearl earrings right now.” Then I open my black purse for a lip gloss and there, practically GLOWING in the dark interior are the pearl earrings, locked together sweetly.I swear it looked like a sunbeam was shining on them, though we were indoors. Same cadence: thought – reality. One – two.
As with finding the diamond, I was thrilled and Louie thought I was just plain insane. Of course they were there the entire time! He intimates to me! But I know. I know with every fiber of my being. I know even though it’s unplausible and ridiculous (and I am a scientist). Matter just plain blinks off the plane of God’s good Earth every so often, lost in the ether, only to be recovered long after all attachment to it is relinquished, when a tiny, off-beat thought can resummon it back into existence.
There. And I’m not even going to proof read this one. I’ve got stuff to do!
Posted in Blah blah blah
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Barefoot.
My running routine has soured. I’m sure it’s a combination of inclement weather, homeschooling 3 kids, and a couple new passions (sewing & quilting and sourdough baking). I tend to oscillate between hobbies (I’m talking to you, spinning wheel, sorry!) and things I basically teach myself. And that’s ok.
What I love about running was the distance. I love the freedom of self-propulsion. I love getting past the pain. I love sliding past countryside. And, God knows, I love the endorphins!
And then I got sick. A few weeks ago I suffered my first asthma attack (really: asthma anything) since early childhood. And it freaked. me. the. fuck. out. I could not stop crying. I started crying when I realized that I couldn’t breathe, I cried all the way to the docotor’s, I cried while the nurse checked me out, I only really stopped crying when the good Doc put a nebulizer in my mouth. And, if you know me, I am in no way, shape or form a crier. Not even close! The Doc was great, gave me a new puffer & 2 weeks of singlu-air (& a prescription), all of which helped tremendously. However, I don’t like taking meds, so I never filled the prescrip.
I was hoping that the asthma attack was a trifecta of a virus, insane pollen count, and sprinting on my rebounder. Fast forward 3 weeks, as a family we go to Live Oak Music Festival, even though Leo & Ruth had a head cold. Naturally, I start in with the symptoms and halfway through the drive home I realize “I can’t breathe.” I came pretty close to going to the ER that night, but since my health insurance has a crazy-high deductible, and I’m not generally a fan of allopathic medicine, I meditated myself down from the cliff. Phew! But I still couldn’t really breathe that well. So I made an appointment with an ND, who specialized in homeopathy.
The day before my appointment with Dr Fine (SUCH a great name!), I spontaneously became obsessed with barefoot running. I know. Just like that. At that point I still couldn’t breathe (aka: laying in bed most of the day), so of course I wanted to run. Classic.
Past running injuries included: ankle tendinitis, illiotibial band syndrome, and four (FOUR!) lost toe nails. It was the shoe’s fault. Even when I ran daily, I hated putting on shoes & the first thing I did after a run was take the damn things off. My kids hate shoes. Hell, I hated shoes as a kid. When I first started running a couple years ago I ran on my forefoot, just as nature intended, I’ve now learned. Some coaching was in order to “fix” my form for that half marathon. And so, I suffered. But I loved it. And I didn’t think there was another way.
But there is! Thanks to Caity, whom I have the pleasure of knowing IRL, and a couple inspiring books I am off shoes for good! And I feel so free! Except……
Well, except for over-doing it. Hello, blisters! When you run with shoes, part of the the deal is blocking out the pain. I am amazingly good at this (evidence: birthing 2 children with not so much as an advil). My meditation practice affords me the ability to block out my body. I can travel outside of it, to a degree. In general, I operate a bit above. I have to consciously ground myself. (Literally. I hug trees and lay on the grass.) Mentally blocking pain “helps” with shod running, yet significantly hinders barefoot running. Here is my meditation for experiencing my body!
So I need it. I need to be barefoot. I need the earth to teach me. And I am so, so willing.
ps: My appointment went amazingly well with Dr Fine. He asked me questions for 90 minutes, then flipped through his huge book for 20, then gave me a remedy. While the remedy was dissolving under my tongue I took my first full breathe in a month. And the very next day I started running again. Miraculous! I am a complete believer in homeopathy!
Posted in Getting things right, Ideas, Personal growth, Self-care, Spritual, WTF???
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Mommy Guilt
I am not a superstitious person, but I do listen to the the signs of life. Sometimes I call them God Winks, tiny or big “coincidences” that seem to mention softly “Hey kid, you’re on the right path! Just keep going”. You know that tiny voice that nags you sometimes, one way or another, into a sometimes illogical manner? I decided to give the voice at least a chance, and began an open-ended experiment of sorts to follow that voice every time and see if I was ever guided into a mistake. I’ve yet to been led astray; and, in all fairness, I’ve altered my definition of “mistake” and “wrong”. Nowadays I tend to accept where I am at a given moment as “Where I’m Supposed To Be”. The happy result of this is a) not fighting reality, b) going with The Flow, c) not thinking I know what is “best” for surrounding humans, and c) never being bored. Of course, I am by no stretch of the imagination a master at this, but I do try.
When we moved into this house I wasn’t overly concerned about the staircase and a two year old Ruthie. She is extremely athletic and pretty aware of dangers for a toddler. Yet still, every single time she called to me from the top of the stairs I dropped what I was doing and went up to get her. What if I ignored her and that was the time she fell down the stairs? I had to live with myself.
Not only do I implicitly trust my tiny, inner voice/instinct, I also implicitly trust my children’s needs. (At least I consciously try.) Hence, my running up and down stairs quite a bit to shuttle Ruth (among other kid needs too numerous to mention from their food cravings to ear piercing to co-sleeping and extended nursing).
Last night we were having dinner with our house guests and I, having been with the kids all day, was desperately in need of adult communication. I’m ashamed to say that Mel wanted to cuddle and after a brief squeeze I sent her off to play. Play she did, with GiGi the chiweenie puppy we all love; until GiGi, in a fit of tug-of-war, BIT Melanie’s beautiful face! Amid howling in pain and surprise,and a decent amount of bright red blood I could tell she needed a tiny stitch or two and we set off for the ER. Thankfully, the ice pack helped her pain, she swiftly stopped bleeding and the ER was blessedly clear (three cheers for Twin Cities Hospital!). She was administered derma bond in two cuts, some steristrips to help a bit, and some antibiotics (her first round in -I kid you not- almost 10 years). Today she is swollen and able to eat only soft foods. I am amazed by her resiliance and good spirits. Upon returning home from the ER last night she kneeled on the floor in front of GiGi, who sniffed her face and licked her. Brave girl! I’m so proud of her.
Can I explain this bout of Mommy Guilt? Why didn’t I listen to her need to cuddle? Why does it take an ER trip to get me to lie down and cuddle her? Why did it take this for me to learn that GiGi gets crazy-out-of-her-little-mind excited very easily, and I must teach the children to manage this? Why was I too lazy to squeeze in my usual thrice-weekly 5k run with GiGi, even though it’s been rainy and we’ve had houseguests? Why why why!?
I accept that I am, unknowingly and with my best intentions, a far from perfect mother. My children are master teachers for me more than I could dream of being for them. And I know that I am fucking up as a parent in ways I cannot fathom. I’m pretty much okay with that. They chose me as much as I chose them, and we have each other to challenge us to become the amazing humans for which our potential begs. I am not plagued with daily/chronic Mommy Guilt, and when it occasionally hits I am in a daze: bereft and adrift.
Thank you for listening. My inner optimism compass does not usually allow for wallowing publicly – I dislike sharing pain. But today, I dunno, I have to get it out of my body.
Posted in Family, Mothering, Personal growth
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Unschooling Day Sample
My educational philosophy has been evolving rapidly in the last couple years, naturally driven by homeschooling my children. I’ve written before about my reasons for homeschooling (namely thst Melanie was absolutely not challenged or inspired in school, to the point that she was regularly acting out & landing in the principal’s office). And I’ve written a tiny bit about unschooling, and our eventual path. Without a doubt we will forever be unschoolers.
“Unschooling” is an umbrella term to explain “schooling without a set curriculum”. More appropriate descriptive terms are life-led learning & holistic learning. My two favorite, cliché-driven, explanations are throwing mud at the walls….then following the rabbit hole. Basically I strive to introduce my children to ideas, cultures, knowledge, art; then I wait and see what “sticks”, i.e. captures their imagination, unleashes a spark, formulates a question….then I follow that “rabbit hole”, wherever it may lead us, all the while engineering a bit of math, reading, writing, drawing, play, geography, history, art, LIFE! Often life itself does a good deal of this “sparking” for me. My underlying belief is that, if I nurture their natural love of learning, and their inherent fascination with knowledge and figuring things out, then they will direct their lives accordingly, and with gusto. I’m so excited!
Here’s a couple sample outlines of our last 2 days:
Everyday, we wake up with no alarms. Mel may need some coaxing from her blankets because she like to read late.
Yesterday, Mon 1/3:
Field trip class! This week we went to a dance studio in Morry Bay and took a bucket drumming class with (?) 8 other families, ages 3-12. Mel & Leo were in rapt attention & are considering taking more bucket drumming lessons. Then: park with all the families! Given free reign, the children naturally made up games together (again, ages 3-12!), solved a conflict, explored a rocky jetty as the tide retreated. A walk on a dock prompted a group of 6 year old boys to ask a boat owner questions. This resulted to an impromptu invite onto the house boat, tour, and “class” with the generous retired couple living aboard. It was a struggle getting the kids back to dry land! We headed home, had dinner, regaled Lou with stories (“We found a star fish this big!”), checked in with Chance, read stories and talked about rhymes.
Today, Tues 1/4:
Nature school day! While Mel played at her special best friend’s house, I took Leo & Ruth to nature school (Mel alternates weeks w/ the younger kids, because she is much more advanced then they). We met 3 other families (ages 2-7) and our amazing naturalist mentor, Evan, at Prefumo Canyon. Chantrells were discovered, mud was traipsed, among other scientific finds and games. Afterward, the families regrouped at a park for a couple hours. It was a beautiful, sunny 60ish degrees out! After picking up Mel, we headed home in perfect time for Mel’s first guitar lesson and Leo’s first art class at the Paso Robles Youth Arts Foundation! Both kids had a great time! While volunteering there, I bumped into a family I hadn’t seen in 6 months and was happy to connect with. Their daughter is Mel’s age and will be in her 2 hour art class tomorrow. Mel’s very best friend lives all the way in SLO (30 min drive), so I’m hoping she’ll find a kindred spirit in Alli, who lives closer. Now we’re home after a whirl-wind day, I’m writing and the kids are having a TV moment while Louie makes dinner and a Chance is upstairs hanging with his friend. I’m anticipating more reading after dinner and an early bedtime (god willing!) after so much excitement! Leo is learning to read, and so I spend at least an hour every day reading to him and Ruthie. Phew! Tomorrow is a home day, wonder what it will bring???
Ruthie Berry
Mud Hole Diving
Today Ruthie turns THREE! She was the biggest of the 3 babies that I birthed, at 8lbs 1oz. While her birth was textbook, unmedicated, mid-wife attended; it was also the most painful and most difficult from which to recover. A lesson in allowing and not pushing too hard, for sure.
While pregnant with her, I was convinced she was a boy, though we didn’t know either way. (Louis would interject here that HE knew she was a girl all along, and indeed this is true.) We didn’t have a favorite girl name, but I just *knew* she was a Ruth from day one and I was beyond thrilled that Lou agreed. My Mother’s Mother, my Grammie Ruth, lived with us Anderson kids as we grew up. Grammie had passed away while I was pregnant with Ruthie, and I am just so pleased to honor Grammie. I still miss her so much.
Ruthie was the slowest to begin to talk (common in youngest children, I’m told), and the first to begin cracking jokes. Her first intentional joke (of which I’m aware) was at 18 months: “Papa poo-poo birdie head! A-hahahaha!” And yes, she laughs at her own jokes, just like her mother. I recently learned that she shares a birthday with Bette Midler, Richard Pryor & Woody Allen.
At 26 months, she started intentionally drawing things. Mostly happy faces, with an occasional self-portrait or dog portrait. It was astonishing at the time, to see a baby (lefty, too!) draw closed circles, dot eyes and a curved up smiley line. Only now is her drawing starting to change into nested and built-upon blocks with dots inside and the random letter and number.
But really, is it so surprising after all that this young child constantly sketches happy faces? I often call her a little sprite, because she dances when she could walk, she constantly jokes, she sings an impressive repertoir of songs, and she often exclaims things like “I’m so excited!” and “You love me, and I love you!” Love is a dominant theme for her, and she lecture us, “I love me. You love you. Leo loves Leo. Mel loves Mel” on and on, through our entire family.
She is also the most naturally athletic of my three babies, though Chance is a gifted, natural athlete as well. Parents at the park often think she is older, based on her physicality. I joke that she is my “sporty spice” (OK, I just dated myself there, now didn’t I?), and it’s a joy to watch her exploring different sports. I fear she’ll make a soccer mom out of me yet.
I’m constantly amazed at the workings of her mind. Because she and Leo are closest in age, she is often in on his homeschool lessons. She’s started picking out numbers and letters that catch her fancy, surprising me with “Look, Mom! O-P-E!” in an “open” sign. One recent afternoon she brought me a paper and pen, wanting me to draw a “4″, but a “4″ with a closed top, not open. A couple months ago, my sister, while visiting, noticed that Ruth can count to 12 in Spanish. ??? I’m still trying to figure that one out.
While Melanie is strong-willed and powerful, Ruth is generally copesetic with “O-tay, Mom” a frequent response. But, trying to get her to do something she refuses to do is futile. She is the most stubborn person I have ever met, myself included. I’m learning some tricks (for example, she will often refuse to wear pants or jackets – even at a nature school 50 degree rainy hike), but mosty I just choose my battles.
In the last 5 months her clothing choices have been….oh, let’s say extreme and maddeningly picky. I have no preference for what she wears, as long as she wears *something*, and she loves to wear Leo’s clothes and shoes or a bathing suit. But I can find no rhyme or reason to her choices. Red tutu skirt, orange Paul Frank monkey shirt, black converse high-tops, pink flip-flops, red board shorts, teal beanie, brown plain shorts of Leo’s. She’s a nightmare to buy for, because she won’t pick anything out. She will kick and scream if you try to put her in something she doesn’t approve. I am so, so interested to see what she chooses to wear as a tween & teen. I just know she’s a budding fashionista.
Ruthie has a deep spiritual vein. Besides the constant talk of love, and hugging, she is extremely intuitive & caring. Even at 20 months old, she would grab my face to look at her, lock eyes with me, and take an exaggerated deep breath, imploring me to follow. She sees (unseen to me) rainbows constantly, and started drawing them this past summer. She is quick to apologize and is always concerned with someone else’s pain. If she perceives that you’re mad at her, she just falls apart.
One last tidbit about Ruthie: she is an excellent communicator. This is a bit of a paradox, since for most of her first couple years, she couldn’t intelligibly speak. She also judges a stranger’s character amazingly well (as one friend referred to her own child as her “barometer”, so is Ruth). I’ve observed Ruth, at 18 months, toddle over to an unknown adult, get his attention, then get him to answer her questions. She tugged him along by his sleeve while gesturing to what she wanted to learn about. He explained this & that to her, never noticing that this was unusual, but enjoying his few moments with her. I was just a few feet away the entire time watching, and she would glance at me, but made no gesture for me join her. It was remarkable, and I’ve seen her do this countless times – twice today!
Don’t you see? Everything will be fine, because these children today are just. so. amazing. My children are phenomenal, and of course they ALL are, as well. Humanity and the Earth will be saved by these gentle souls. Let’s just let them be.
More photos, an artwork sample & a video of her dancing after the jump. Continue reading
Counting your age on TWO hands!
Yesterday was Leo’s 6th birthday! I blogged about his angelic birth here. His party is this Sunday, and we celebrated among ourselves last night. His dinner request was tuna noodles and almond cupcakes.
Angelic continues to be the operative word for Leo. Even his features are angelic! He is an insatiable seeker of information. If I had a dime for every time he asked “Why….” Well, let it be said he is extremely easy to homeschool! While Legos and anything Star Wars are long-running interests, in the past six months he’s become fascinated with human pathology and immune function, and knights and the Medieval era.
I’m always trying to understand how Leo’s brain works. He’s very direct. When I tell him I love him, he’ll often give me a look. If he says anything, it’s usually “I *know*, Mom.” He is very affectionate with people he loves, in a non-verbal way: hugs, arm around a shoulder casually, tickling, wrestling. The men in my family & close male friends are heaven for him. I suspect he is telepathic. Even visiting, out of town friends have noted how he seamlessly read their mind by bringing an item they thought about, or naming something out loud.
Like his infamous “uwangatang” potty story and his Lego review, he is still a meandering storyteller. (Guess that’s hereditary!) And his stories are amazing! He spends a couple hours each day absorbed in his imagination, building Lego “sculptures” (his term). And because he wants to be near us, Legos are literally in every room of my house. At least on a good day.
And those sculptures! They are perfectly symmetrical, from multiple planes, in both form, color and texture. Engineered masterpieces with moving parts and hidden chambers, sometimes perfectly balanced on a fishing line. He has an eye for perfection. I’ve caught him picking up his room before he even leaves it for breakfast in the morning. He had some money from his grandparents and wanted to buy a Lego set, but the one he wanted was $80 and he had $7. I told him he could help around the house and earn the money, and I would match what he earned. For the next 5 weeks a day didn’t go by that he wouldn’t ask “Is there anything I can do to help the family?” several times. When he had accumulated, with my contribution, $60, he wanted to go back and look at the set. There was some confusion about the cost of the set, and he was disappointed that he didn’t have enough to buy it. But, he chose to continue helping out & earning money instead of buying a smaller set. His memory is elephantine and his will is determined. Thankfully, he is also reasonable!
He is a joy to know and I certainly learn as much from him as he does from me. Thank you, my sweet Leonardo, for being a light in the world. It is because of you, Chance and the other young men I know that I honestly don’t worry about the future of our country and the world. You are a generation of critically intelligent empaths, and I have faith in you.
Recent Leo quotes:
“I want to hypnotize all the fish in the world.”
“Can viruses fly? Can they breathe underwater?”
“Mom, are we black people?”
“Why are people different colors?”
“Why is your body stronger when you’re happy?”
“It’s hard being an artist.”
“What IS god?”
“Why is there good and bad? Why can’t they all be friends? That’s what I want to know.”
In response to me telling him that I thank god every morning for healthy kids he says ”What’s GOD got to do with it?!”
When I asked him if there was anything, other than Legos, that he’d like for his birthday, he replied “Well, hugs. Hugs are good, too. Legos and hugs.”
As I’m making huge strides one day in landscaping our from yard I ask “Am I awesome?” Leo replies “No.” (30 seconds go by) “But you’re cool.”
Leo is often nude. In fact, I’d be hard pressed to find a tan line on him. Gardening in the front yard one day he ran out naked. I asked him to please put some shorts on. He didn’t understand & asked why, so I explained about neighbors and how they may be embarrassed, blah blah blah. He thought about my reasoning for a long moment and said, with no trace of attitude, but merely stating a fact “Well. That’s not my problem.” I couldn’t argue with that, so I let it go. Five minutes later he emerges from the house with shorts on. That’s my boy.
Click the photos to enlarge. Enjoy! Continue reading
Posted in Family, Kid Quote, Mothering, Uncategorized
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Inspiration
Let’s see…Often, inspiration comes when I lie in bed at night. I suppose that’s common enough. I swear I’ll sit down the next day and write it down, yet we know how that goes. Tonight, however, I’m trying: not sleeping, thinking, and ultimately pecking away at my iPad, my house asleep around me.
Tonight was Halloween & fun enough. But tomorrow! Ah, tomorrow is a day trip to the Monterey Bay Aquarium with a homeschool group, and (most excitedly!) my Santa Cruz-based friend, Michella. There will be an inevitable moment tomorrow when I shall gaze across majestic Monterey Bay and feel the pull of the redwood drenched Santa Cruz Mountains, and within them, Swanton Pacific Ranch . Rolling and rough, golden coastal prairie, giving reluctant way to chaparral, the quickly to oaks & a shrinking population of Monterey Pines, ultimately redwoods! Awe-inducing, dizzying redwoods! What secrets they hold!
It is time, I believe, to tell my children more about my youth. It’s true, of course, that they know me better than I know myself. Yet, a younger version of their mother is in there somewhere, a 20 year old, star-struck version. A girl who found herself in those mountains.
Fortunately, I can take them there: to the dorm I slept in with my best friends, waking to giddy excitement each morning; to our communal kitchen, a setting of a summer-long conversation; to the barn we swore was haunted; the fields we farmed; the old logging railroad that was my morning commute into the redwoods; the creeks I had the pleasure of measuring! It was a beautiful time of my life, and I can hardly sleep with the idea of showing my children another life of mine. A crazy, dramatic, tear-soaked time…and also a time of profound peace. Never in my young life had I felt so at peace, and joyful in my heart, so unwilling to numb or distract myself away from the present moment. What a gift!
Thank you, god, for leading me there, at that time of my life. Thank you for introducing me to people who would forever joyfully tint my worldview. And to you who were there? To my 5 fellow interns and our mentors, I bless you.
Posted in Family, Friends, Getting things right, Mothering, Personal growth, Spritual
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I’m back!
After a long & unintentional blogging absence, I’m back! Too bad this entry will likely prove a bit boring, at least I’m starting to get into the hang of it again. God knows I have countless ideas and plans continually knocking around my head, perhaps purging a few will will me fall asleep easier.
I returned today from a family trip to the East Coast. My cousin, Allison’s, wedding was such a fabulous occasion to gather most of my Mom’s side of the family. After 5 years if marriage to Louie (!!!), he finally got to meet the bulk of the Doyle side. Though we had a wonderful time, I’m not quite finished processing the trip enough to write about it. I will say: I terribly miss my extended family already. Here I am greeting a long-missed family member:
Does Louie know me or what? He said he could see this moment coming from a mile away & readied his iPhone.
The kids dogpiled me when I walked in the door (Lou returned 36 hrs before I) & it’s been a splendid day reconnecting with them. At one point I asked Ruthie if she would please do me the favor and stop growing for just a little while. She solemnly responded with “Yes, of course.”
Why I am ever surprised by these children? Later Ruth insisted that she is a boy, like Leo, Chance & Papa. While falling asleep, Leo’s last question of the day was “What is hate?” Lou discovered that Chance has a girlfriend here in Paso now; and if Facebook is any indication, she seems like a nice girl. Mel read the first Guardians of Ga’Hoole (sp?) book today, so upholding our agreement that I’d take her to see the movie if she read the book. Lou is heading San Jose tomorrow morning, for just the day, for work. And that’s all the Zimmerman News for today.
Recently I’ve been thinking about my attachments and how I’d like to master non-attachment. This is ironic, since I practice attachment parenting! But really: attachments & the stories we tell ourselves affect our lives in the most rudimentary ways. I’m happy when the kids are behaving the way I think they should, or working on what I think is appropriate, or eating what I think they need….blah blah blah. I see through it all & can often self-correct. So I’m learning, and getting to that first plateau. Let’s see what tomorrow brings.
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