Jam on Bread

It’s New Years Day and I have no particular resolutions. Just a cafe au lait, cranberry walnut cookie, and an hour away from home. I’d say that’s at least as good as any resolution I could think up.

Today’s been a good day so far. Elliot and I went out on the town, just the 2 of us. Well, 2 of us and “Mr. Frog,” a Kermit puppet I’ve had since I was a kid. We were going to go to the pet store and wish Maxine the parrot a happy New Years, but the pet store was closed so we went next door to Kroger instead.

Elliot wanted Mr. Frog to talk to him through the store as he pushed the kid-sized cart, and while I felt a bit self-conscious talking in the voice of Mr. Frog while picking up chicken, tomato soup, and Disney Princess bubble bath that was on clearance, I sustained the conversation most of the way through. To get Elliot into the bathroom, Mr. Frog told him he had to go potty, so Elliot went in with Mr. Frog to the men’s bathroom (usually he insists on using the women’s, but Mr. Frog must have swayed him the other way).

Elliot and Mr. Frog were in the bathroom a LONG time. I stood outside the door and listened as Elliot kept trying to get Mr. Frog to talk to him, but without my voice, Mr. Frog just wouldn’t. “You’re not saying the right words, Mr. Frog,” Elliot kept saying, so I opened the door a bit and told Elliot to just use the potty and come back out, that Mr. Frog needed me to help him talk. A few minutes later and Elliot was washing his hands and asking Mr. Frog if he wanted soap on his hands too. Apparently he did. A few minutes later and Elliot was still inside, probably playing with the paper towels. So I opened the door a bit and told Elliot to bring Mr. Frog, that Mr. Frog was done using the potty. “Alright,” Elliot said, “I just need to turn out the lights.” And then a voice from one of the stalls.

“Hey! There’s somebody else in here!”

“Sorry,” I responded, thinking the problem was my interrupting somebody’s bathroom privacy, “just trying to help my son.”

Elliot turned out the light and walked out. Again, the voice: “Hey! I can’t see in here! Turn the lights back on.”

“Oops. Sorry!” I said again, reaching my arm inside to turn the light back on.

At the checkout lane, Elliot unloaded the cart and gave Mr. Frog a ride on the conveyor belt. I avoided a potential meltdown over a talking Tinkerbell balloon he desperately wanted with the promise of a balloon (”maybe they have Tinkerbell too!”) at the Dollar Tree where I’d been planning to stop to get “party” items for New Years (nothing like the promise of a party to help get through the day).

So off to the Dollar Tree we went. Only it wasn’t open yet. The rest of the mall was, so we walked around and shared a lukewarm eggroll at HOT RICE!!, then promised the pizza man we would eat pizza next time since his pizza’s better and he has a great personality. Even though the eggrool was mediocre, I did, like Elliot’s cookie fortune for the New Year: “You will always be surrounded by true friends”. I very much hope that is true for him. A free sample from the pretzel store and a little walking around and the Dollar Tree opened just for us, it seemed. No Tinkerbell balloons, but Elliot was so enamored by the party concept that he chose three different Happy Birthday balloons instead, some paper party horns, paper party plates, and a $1 Betty Boop DVD (she’s one of his passions…Lucy’s too for that matter).

As for the party, we haven’t had that yet. After lunch Lucy went down for a nap and Todd and Elliot started their Betty Boop movie. The party will happen probably happen sometime after dinner and before bedtime, during that minefield time where anything could happen. Good to save up something special for that time. We’ll eat cookies and ice cream from our party plates, decorate with Elliot’s art from the morning, blow out a candle and come up with a silly New Years Day party song which will probably sound like “Happy Birthday” with “Happy New Years Day” substituted for the words.

That’s New Year’s for me. Like I said, no particular resolutions this year though there’s plenty I should make. But I’m just happy if I can take one day at a time without worrying about the whole scope of life.

I’m so bad about writing down good moments with Lucy that I’m determined to record at least a fraction of yesterday before it slips from memory. While we don’t have a membership at the YMCA, a friend was able to get Lucy and I in for free yesterday, and what a delight it was!! First, since they have a babysitter, we dropped Lucy off for a mere $2 and for an hour and a half my friend Marie and I sat in the hot tub and relaxed in the small pool (nothing too vigorous). Five minutes into just sitting in the hot tub, I said I felt like somebody had just sent me on a paid vacation in Hawaii, and it really did feel that good.

After an hour and a half, we picked Lucy up and dressed her in her own little swimsuit and took her in the pool with us. While she gave me a really evil look at first, within five minutes she had taken to the water with sheer delight, moving easily from her belly to her back in my arms and Marie’s, sitting on the pool’s edge and doing Humpty Dumpty with me, falling into the water when I’d say “fell”, kicking strong with her legs, splashing with her arms, even putting her face in the water to blow bubbles in imitation of me. At one point I was just watching Lucy with Marie, both of them so happy with looking at each other, and I thought, “Marie is some sort of an angel,” and not 30 seconds later, “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” began to play over the loudspeaker, not entirely a coincidence.

After an hour in the pool with Lucy, we dressed and headed back to the cold outside. Marie suggested sweet potato fries at a nearby restaurant, my favorite in this small town, and I’d had the same thing in mind. Lucy, growing up too fast for me, refused the high chair and sat comfortably in the booth beside me, eating Marie’s cole slaw, my pickles and lemon slice (she has a thing for sour), and my sweet potato fries and patty melt, both of which she dipped in the butter and cinnamon sugar brought out for the fries. Arriving home 10 minutes before Elliot’s bus, Lucy was asleep from her busy morning.

Sometimes I think of Lucy as “Lucy the Overlooked.” She lives under the dual burden of being the younger sister and the sibling of a sometimes challenging older brother. I don’t spend nearly the amount of time with her that I did with Elliot at this age and when Elliot is now in a rage or meltdown, she sits off to the side and just looks on as if all this is natural and normal (which to us, it is).

Still, Lucy is growing up in our midst, a beautiful girl child who gives hugs and kisses, speaks many words, chews on the cat’s ears. I’m trying to be more aware of her, intentionally do the things she loves. This morning we shared a donut from the local bakery, swung by Biggby’s coffee so I could get an eggnog latte and she could look at the doggy cards, paid the water bill so she could get a Dum-Dum sucker, and spent an hour at the pet store so she could love on the cats and dogs. Still, I can’t believe how quickly she’s growing up, even peeing on the potty this morning for the first time ever, delighted with her own delightful self.

Just when Elliot was doing really, really well, things have taken a turn for the worst. And I’m just not sure why.

He’s saying he dislikes school and doesn’t want to go. And he’s been fighting getting on the school bus–running away from us (sometimes laughing as he does so), having even to be carried to the bus, kicking all the while.

Yesterday I met with his team for Parent-Teacher conference and to go over goals for his IEP. They’re as mystified as we are as to why his behavior has changed again for the worse, knowing only that it has. A week ago he threw a bowl of chili on the floor at lunch (though he did clean it up afterwards and apologize). He’s been intentionally doing his worksheets wrong and grinning at his teacher as he does it. He’s been teasing the other kids–knocking down their play creations, etc. Today he was yelling and carrying on so much at gym (there was a new college student there to help–perhaps he was showing off??) that the school principal had to come down and get him.

And then when he got home today, the first thing he did was pee…not in the toilet but in the wastebasket. Then he threw a fit over his remaining Halloween candy since I was going to take it away for peeing in the wastebasket, went into the front room, picked up a heavy glass-heart picture frame and started throwing it hard across the room (not at the front window, fortunately!). Just one thing after another…I won’t go on and on about it. It’s frustrating, though, and I wish I could figure out what’s going on so we could stop it. Maybe going to visit grandparents threw him off. Maybe all the field trips he’s had the past few weeks have done it. Maybe the time change. Maybe…maybe…

Whatever the cause, I hope this bad spell passes fast. He had been doing SO well…

Today I feel awash in hope, excited about change and new ideas, new visions for the country. My home state of Indiana went blue as did my current state, and even in all of this I am hoping for a blurring of red and blue that might become purple in the best of ways. I hate division, hate categories, hate ways in which we separate from each other along all sorts of lines. I am not naive enough to think that the election of one man will heal all divisions, but if I am to believe his rhetoric, I am willing to grant he has a decent shot at reducing divisions and helping us see the humanity in each of us. I am willing, at least, to believe that Obama has a better shot at it than McCain whose rhetoric relied strongly on nouns like friends and enemies, verbs like fighting and war.

Obama will not read this blog: I’m pretty certain of that. But if I were to give him advice, this is what I would say:

Remain always humble and open, a listener to others’ stories and a teller of your own.

Lead by serving.

Do not fall into the trap of thinking some issues facing this country are moral issues and others are not.
All our decisions and policies have moral implications, so be just and fair to all, looking out especially for the least of those you serve.

Avoid pride, both personal and national. Do not fall into the trap of believing that putting this country first is necessarily best for either this country or for the world.

Love your wife and daughters every bit as much as you love this country and this world. Do not neglect them.

Admit your failings. This is counter-intuitive to being president, I know, but so very important to being human.

Seek the counsel of others, both those who agree and disagree with you. Be wise in taking their perspectives into account as you make your decisions.

Never forget you are part of a world community.

Never forget you are a child of the Creator in a world of the Creator’s children.

Let love, not fear, rule your interactions and your policies.

Remember always that hope is “the genius that invents the future” (Liesel Mueller).

Having spent the last ten minutes finding things to do other than write this blog, I might as well begin now. But I hardly know how to start or what to say.

Do I start with the McCain rally in our small town last Thursday that had all the school kids, K-12, bussed in without parents signing off their permission and for which McCain (it has been said) paid double both for the location and to have the children brought in? Do I start with my friend Marie being told by a school official that, “Oh, McCain’s just here to talk about being a senator and it will be educational for the children. This has nothing to do with the presidential race,” when the whole event was, of course, a political rally? Do I start with being called a “baby killer” for the first time in my life by a red-faced man in an orange hunting cap just because I was standing on the side of Obama supporters holding a sign that read, “Our children are not your political pawns,” aimed at McCain’s use of children for his media event? Do I start with how the school kids were not permitted to wear any Obama pins or shirts but could wear and hold up McCain signs? Do I start with the student who was kicked out of the rally for wearing an Obama shirt? Do I start with how frightened the phrase “Country First” makes me feel in a world and a country as diverse as ours and as a person who, though I may value my country, believe we need to work on our arrogance and self-centeredness? Do I start by saying that as a Christian I do not feel comfortable with proclaiming my country to be above all else and am especially uncomfortable my what I see as people using God’s name to justify and promote their own agendas?

Or do I start with my visit home this weekend, during which my son told his grandfather while they were out visiting a neighbor that Barack Obama will be the next president? Do I begin with my father telling me in no uncertain terms how terribly disappointed he is about how I turned out? Do I begin with my father telling me that I have been “brainwashed” by the college and church I’m connected to, that for somebody with so much education I am anything but smart? Do I begin with his vocabulary about Obama–ABORTION, BABY-KILLER, MUSLIM, TERRORIST, SOCIALIST–or his vocabulary about McCain–HERO, LOST-THE-USE-OF-HIS-ARM, FIGHTING FOR YOUR FREEDOM WHICH YOU JUST WANT TO THROW AWAY? Do I begin with my father taking “Country First” very seriously, even before family and perhaps even before God? Do I begin with my father’s inability to say “I love you” when I told him I loved him last night and this morning?

Or do I begin with my mother telling me, even after lots of listening to me talk not just about my political views but mostly about my father and even after reading through factcheck.org with her about the lack of evidence of Obama’s terrorist connections that ultimately she still sides with Dad politically even though she too feels sad that he can’t seem to see past the political? Do I begin with my mother describing this current election, in all seriousness, as being “like the Civil War” with “families dividing” into different camps based on this election which is more important than any other in our country’s history? Do I begin with my mother telling me that my father sees my political choice as “rebellion” and not knowing what to do when a word like that is directed at me, a 35-year-old woman who has been making her own choices for herself for half her life now?

The following things I know to say, though perhaps they are less starting points than ending points:

I said I did not want to talk about politics with my family and did my very best not to, walking out of the house or out of the room away from my father rather than letting myself get pulled in.

The world will not come crashing down around us regardless of whether we awake to a President Obama or a President McCain on Wednesday morning: We will still have our children and families and pets to love and care for, will still be able to find joy and meaning in the simple things around us, will still have to wrestle with how to love even the most unlovable in our lives.

I love my family, including my father, and I told him so. I cannot make him say or mean the same.

Not once this entire election did I send any family a forward of a political nature regardless of the countless numbers I received. We are all people underneath whatever beliefs we hold, and that’s what I most want to hold onto right now, not who wins or doesn’t win an election.

In the midst of the worst of my father’s rants about his shame and disappointment about me, I felt myself letting go, thinking (as does the main character in the movie Fearless) that I had faced the moment of my death (in my case, being an utter disappointment to my father and having that finally acknowledged once and for all) and that it hadn’t killed me. I was still standing, I was still in the room with my father, but I could also see through him, that I knew my worth came from elsewhere–friends, my immediate family, my mom, God–and not from him. As I told my mother, he has always been a master of using notions of shame and disappointment to try and control me, and the attacks he made based out of this election were on par with him once telling me “You will marry a black man just to spite me and I will kill myself from shame,” but they won’t work on my anymore.

Have I started? Have I ended? I don’t know. I still have to fight from being pulled back in, from hearing the words, “You are a disappointment to me,” ring through what I know to be right and true about who I am and about my right to vote for the person I feel is best for this time, this place. And I’m not writing this to tell you who to vote for–really, I’m not–but to work through priorities of what’s most important and what should come first for me.

…that, looking back to this dream from February 2006, I see traces of my life today. Could I have known without knowing? Certainly, my son is not quite the man in my dream, but still, there are traces of him…

So lots has been going on lately. Or at least life has been busy. Tomorrow’s a big day for us, and an exciting one. We take Elliot to a specialist to have him diagnosed with, well, whatever he has (though our bets are on Asperger’s syndrome). I’m less in despair about him than I was even a month ago as he has been doing VERY well of late. Pottying is back on track, meltdowns are fewer, and we’ve just been having fun together in general.

Saturday I took Elliot, just the two of us, to the local library’s Halloween festival where he sat and watched most of the Sleepy Hollow play being presented (until he got really thirsty from his popcorn), then drank lots of imitation orange juice (blech! I had mulled cider and donuts–yummy!), then played with toys from a century ago, chatted with his favorite librarian, and circled around and around one of the actresses from the play until he got up the nerve to talk to her (and then, of course, had difficulty shutting up).

On Sunday Elliot’s teacher told me how proud she was of him when I came to pick him up from Sunday school. They’d been talking about how Joseph had to forgive his brothers, and she said that while she often wonders if anything that gets talked about sinks in with the young kids, when she asked if anybody ever had to ask forgiveness for something, Elliot said, “I poured water in the pumpkin pie,” which he had done just that morning when helping me in the kitchen. (The pie turned out well anyway–he hadn’t put much in and I scooped it out before baking.)

Today after school his friend Gabriel and Marie were waiting for him when he got home, so he rode his bike most of the way to Gabriel’s house and walked the rest, then we all went out to DQ and to a playground where Elliot played very well with other kids and also wandered over to strangers to start conversations. I love his enthusiasm for his life, the way he just walks up to people and announces things like, “There’s Gabriel over there, and Marie, and Mommy, and Lucy. We’re having a good day.”

And Lucy? She continues to amaze me. She did EVERYTHING at the playground–swings, slides, climbing structures, even insisted on climbing the chain ladder. When she started up the tallest slide and I brought her down, Marie snatched her up and said, “Let’s give your mom a heart attack” and climbed all the way up with her and sent her down by herself (which DID scare me, especially when she lifted off a bit in the middle, but Lucy LOVED it). She says more words every day, and Gabriel was her favorite today. She loves to give kisses, even to Bruce, taking his head in her hands and more or less sucking is mouth and nose which is kind of gross.

I’m doing well too. On Saturday for 3 HOURS I met with a writer friend and we had an intensive and exhilirating workshop session, today I spent nearly 6 hours with Marie in good conversation while the kids played. This morning I managed to write for an hour since Lucy graced me with an extra hour of sleep. I’m thrilled beyond words to be going to a writer’s colloquium on Friday/Saturday where I’ll be reconnecting with an old grad school mentor and just spending time writing and thinking and listening. And tomorrow night I’ll be reading a short piece at the local library’s first ever open mic night.

The only one in the family I’m not so sure about right now is Todd. I’ve hardly seen him the past few weeks as he’s been working through lunches, at night, and on the weekends to get work done and when he’s here, he’s not always really here. For Todd, is seems, there are always more papers to grade, more articles to write, more money to make… Still, there are good moments and always the potential for more to come.

Brother and Sister

Lucy and Marie

My Fella With His Umbrella

Children at Play: Lucy, Elliot, and Gabriel

When our friends from Indiana visit, we ALWAYS have a good time. And this one was no exception. Randy, Steph, Natalie, Jeremiah, and Anna arrive around noon yesterday, just as the kids and I were getting burned out on the local homecoming festivities which included face painting and bouncy castles. We had a low-key Saturday afternoon of thrifting at Goodwill for the girls and a short stop at a local car show and running around in nature for the boys. I’m always amazed at how well all the kids do together, Lucy included as she’s taken to following the older kids around.

Today we had a good breakfast and the kids played around the house in the morning before we all headed out to a really cool park with retro play equipment for a couple hours of play before a quick and easy Marco’s pizza lunch.

This visit, it strikes me now, was less of a conversation-intensive one as is usually the case. Maybe this was because we were just busy doing stuff, and maybe it was because I had less “So your kid with Asperger’s do this” kinds of questions. Probably some of both. All I really need to say, though, is that we enjoy their company and like that we can be ourselves around them–no pretensions, apologies, explanations of children’s behavior or eating habits. The only bad thing is that we don’t see them more often than we do, though we’re getting better at seeing each other at more regular intervals at least

Lucy had her 15 month checkup today and, while precise numbers elude me as always, was in the 90th percentile in length (31 inches?) and 30th in weight (21.5 pounds?). She’s also getting in several new teeth right now which has been making her unusually cranky and she’s taken to slapping, pinching, and hair pulling (which is hell for me with my sensitive head!) when upset. Today she went out with a friend and me for coffee and tottered around the shop, never too far away but just far enough to peer into the booths and smile at the other customers. Such a delight!

It’s late, I’m tired, and I should be in bed. I’ve tried tallying up the number of hours I’ve put in editing but, even with a calculator, I can’t seem to get the same figure twice. Think I’ll try it once more and give up. I’m just eager to get paid so that this whole world financial crisis thing that’s going on feels a bit less up close and personal. Since numbers are beyond me, all these news reports feel vaguely frightening in ways I can’t really comprehend. I don’t really know if things are bad or if things will be bad for us, and if so, how?? And I haven’t bothered to look at our retirement savings right now (ok, I don’t WANT to) because that would confuse and likely worry me even more.

Sigh…if we could just eliminate numbers and money (as in needing to have it, not as in not having enough of it), the world would be a happier place…

While Elliot’s growing up feels sometimes like a series of starts, stops, and backward slides, Lucy’s is a constant forging ahead (as, I should note so as to avoid invidious comparison, was Elliot’s at her current age). She’s very take charge, in control of her environment, following her brother and his friend Gabriel around in their activities, insisting on being out of the grocery cart and pushing it through the store, getting boxes of cereal out for herself, climbing up on chairs (and tabletops) either by herself or behind Elliot when he’s helping me at the counter, even starting the remove her diapers when they’re wet (potty training time??). Last night she slept part of the night in Elliot’s room (now Elliot and Lucy’s room) for the first time ever and took the first half of her morning nap there as well. And now she’s up and on my lap. So much for a long post