lately

Birch Bay, Washington, August 2012

I really wanted to have my new blog up and rolling by October.

But then life happened.

My husband went on a week-long business trip.

Then another week-long business trip.

I said "yes" to another grantwriting client.

I probably should have said "no."

The Jewish New Year came.

And went.

I thought a lot about my grandfather.

In my writing group, I wrote a list of things I remember about him.

I cried when I tried to read it. 

Maybe I'll post it here someday.

I mean there - on my new blog.

Which will be coming soon.

Sometime in October, I swear!

For now, I'm cooking and running and running around and food shopping (because it suddenly seems that we never have any yogurt in our house) and grantwriting grantwriting grantwriting.

I'd kind of rather be writing writing writing.

But no one's paying me to write write write.

(Yet)

(Maybe someday)

Life feels like it's sped up since Elan started kindergarten.

I'm waiting for it to slow down.

Even though I know that it's probably up to me to slow it down.

Since I'm most likely a big part of the reason it feels sped up right now.

I'm putting parentheses around my dreams, my hopes, my ambitions. 

Like little whispers.

Does that mean they're coming closer?

sneak peek

A new home for this blog... coming soon.

I'm so excited!

living with an almost-2-year-old

Emry, August 2012

I just found a half-eaten meatball from three days ago tucked inside my shoe. 

You?

a birth story that made me laugh

My baby, Emry at 3 days old, October 2010

I love birth stories, birth junkie that I am, but it's not often that one makes me laugh.

You should read this (by one of my sister's friends). Even if you're not a birth junkie, it's great.

those questions

"Color camp" - he's the counselor, the tiles are the campers, Birch Bay, WA, August 2012

We were getting ready for the third day of kindergarten. I was in the kitchen, working on my morning checklist.

Lunch - packed.

Backpack - ready.

Bike helmets - in bike trailer.

My breakfast - in process...

Elan was munching on a bowl of Os while jumping on the couch when suddenly he announced, "I'm afraid of dying."

I finished pouring the milk into my cereal while wondering what kind of response I should have to this question. Here's what I came up with: "Oh?"

Then he followed it up with, "Is God real?"

It was a one-two punch, all before my morning coffee.

"I don't know," I said. "What do you think?"

Now he was standing on the couch, one of his favorite positions. 

"I think he is, because he's in this book." He held up a copy of The Ziz and the Hanukkah Miracle, a book that recently landed in our mailbox courtesy of the PJ Library. By the way, everytime we get another (free!) Jewish-themed book from the PJ Library I always take a moment to be impressed at how organized we Jews are. My library of Jewish children's books would probably number about 1 book if it were up to me to stock it.

I thought about asking my giant-eyed child whether he thought the Ziz - an enormous yellow bird who, in the course of the book, ropes the moon and tries to tug it down from the sky - is also real. But I didn't want to shut down his train of thought. Elan's not the kind of child who constantly busts out questions and observations about The Big Things in life.

"If he is real, when I die, I'll ask him for a new life," he said.

I put my cereal bowl down on the table and sat next to him on the couch.

"I think that's a nice idea," I said.

"You're going to die before me, right, Mama?"

I made reassuring noises.

"But you're not going to die until I'm a grown-up," he declared. 

More reassuring noises.

"Like 22 or 23 or 24 or - yeah! - 25. You won't die until I'm 25 years old."

And then, with my fate and his all settled, he went back to jumping on the couch.

gettin' nothin' dun

Berkeley, August 2012

I am not sure that I have ever had such an unproductive day.
At least, not on a day when I'm supposed to be productive.

Worry, worry, fret
Scheme, talk, scheme
Vent, rant, process, chat
Crave a nap, crave a nap, crave a nap

Second day of kindergarten.
Schedule chaos.
Mental exhaustion.

Am I heading right, or going left?
Where am I supposed to be right now?
What am I forgetting?

It's going okay for Elan. Like I said, I think he's more ready for this than I am.
As for me, I've been trying to focus on work while really counting the minutes till Zumba. For about the last three hours.

on cycles

When Emry was born, I had three living grandparents. Now, as he approaches his second birthday, I have one.

Emry and my Grandma Syl, New Jersey, June 2012

I was doing a puzzle with Elan this morning, remembering when he first started liking puzzles two years ago. He was six inches shorter then.

At the end of a 7-hour flight just me & my boys, June 2012

When Elan was Emry’s age, he had the same gorgeous wispy-curled blonde hair as Emry does now. People thought he was a girl, just as they think Emry is a girl now. When I was too lazy to comb it out and it got full of dreadlocks, the Peruvian woman who ran his nursery school stuck him in the bathtub, plastered it down with heavy-duty conditioner, combed it out and put him in braids.

Elan at 2 years old, Berkeley, February 2009

When I picked him up, I couldn’t find him in the yard full of children. I didn’t recognize him from the back.

Now he’s starting kindergarten. I know it’s a happy occasion, but everytime I think about it, I feel a mix of uncertainty about the future and nostalgia for my first baby, my first toddler, my first preschooler…

Elan at 22 months, the same age Emry is now, San Diego, September 2008

Today I realized that he’s better prepared to start kindergarten than I am to have him start. Is that what parenting is – always being a few steps behind? Always thinking that if you could just push the “pause” button, you could catch up? I spoke with my grandmother, and she said, “Time moves on. You can’t stop it.” And I know that, of course. But ever since Elan was born two weeks early, I’ve felt behind, unprepared for the next thing, like I’m forever caught still prepping the tiny layette while he’s busy outgrowing it. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’ve held on to the thought it was because he was born early – that giving birth 14 days ahead of schedule set me on a course of catch-up. But maybe that’s just the nature of parenting, at least when you are a person who leans toward nostalgia, as I do.

Elan at 22 months, just after we moved to Berkeley, September 2008

I’m not sure if he’s nervous about starting kindergarten. I’m not even sure how much he’s thought about it. I’m trying not to impart my own ambivalence on him by talking about it much, since my older child can smell insincere enthusiasm from a mile away. And the summer has been so busy with travel and visits, there’s hardly been time. And now the first day is upon us. His backpack is ready, his lunch is packed, his clothes are laid out on his bedroom floor for tomorrow morning.

Blackberry picking, Birch Bay, Washington, August 2012

I look back to the possibilities for this year Mikhail and I created together, on a cold January afternoon on the beach: love, light & taking the next step. There is nothing to do but take that step that scares you. Tomorrow, we will hold hands and walk together through the gates of the elementary school. 

Heaven for a Star Wars obsessed boy, Legoland, San Diego, July 2012

And today, on the last day of summer vacation, I took my boys to the botanical gardens for a walk and Elan and I baked cookies together while Emry was napping. I pushed "pause," even if it was just for a few moments.

Redwoods at the botanical garden, Tilden, today