Motherscribe

The familiar is heady

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Sat, 21 Jan 2012 07:35:00 +0000

As I drove in tonight late...the street quiet, most houses with their lights out, I was listening to NPR -hearing someone speaking from Paris and Berlin. Places that have hijacked spots in my wanderlust soul. Yet, I was struck with how much comfort I derive from the same daily path. I drive up my quiet street, lights off, cars parked neatly in driveways. The familiar is heady, when the lure of different is just that... a glimpse into another life. I'd love it for an hour or a day or maybe a week. But, then I'd stare wistfully at my street of warm habit and know that here is where I belong...

I am not a child anymore. I control where I live and how I conduct my life. I hope that this life of understated perception and wild imaginings is a world in which my children will blossom. That small thing...which is truly large, is what I wish for this night...

Forgive me, children...

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 04:42:00 +0000

There are those days in which you wish you had dreamt it. The gnashing of teeth and brooding brow. The roiling stomach and pounding head. Yet, the realization occurs to you that this emotion is a choice and a path you have wandered down...

Today was such a day. From work obligations and tasks to constant interruptions, so that even the most simple of goals was broken into many layers. I wish I had the insight earlier. To know that this will pass, it is a phase, and only a moment in time. The minutia of a much bigger life not at odds.

It was not my finest hour. To pull over onto a side street and step out of the car. Telling my children I needed 2 minutes in which to breathe and not lose my temper. But, I already had. Perhaps I saved us all from some screaming. But, the power of the wrathful mother falls heavily upon small people. How I remember... I hope they don't.

I got back in the car. Driving to an activity that was not mine. Again. On another day, meaning nothing. Today...meaning the bitterness of someone whose needs were not met.

Parenting can be so bloody hard. I am good at it most days. But, there are some I wish had never seen the light of day. And, I'm sure my children feel the same...

Our night ended with soft, whispered stories and cuddles on the couch. It is that which I am left with, the earlier debacle... wisps of black smoke. Sometimes the quiet and moment to moment with my children is all that is needed to turn it around. A breathing space and memories shared. Forgive me, children...

launching a call for great time management ideas!

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Sat, 14 Jan 2012 02:21:00 +0000

Every once in a while JCK gets a bee in her bonnet about her need for organizational tips - life management/time management - the key word here is management. Over the course of this blog's life, JCK has snagged some great tips on ways that YOU organize and manage your time. It's the start of a new year, and JCK is... launching a call for great time management ideas! Come one and all! Please drop by and leave your little gems.

These are the things that JCK would specifically like tips on, but feel free to add your own:

Family time
Time with spouse
Family Work
Working full-time
Meal Planning
Grocery Shopping
Time with friends (includes calls/emails/letters)
Time for self
Exercise
Writing time
Bill paying
Thank you notes
The daily mail...
Sleep...*sigh*

And...Those projects that never go away: boxes, and boxes, and boxes of photographs that need sorting, tossing and keeping.

JCK is going to start it by disclosing a tip that she just recently figured out. Many of you will be saying, OH....DUH, JCK. And, Seriously??!! But, JCK is proud of herself. Even if it took her several years to figure out. Are you ready for this?

Time management: getting kids breakfast/ready for school - without stress and everyone being crabby.

Tip: Get the kids up 30 minutes earlier. This simple thing has transformed the Motherscribe weekday mornings.

OK, your turn! JCK is awaiting your tips. So, pull up a chair, pour yourself a stiff one - or a caffeinated one, or just get in the ZONE... and let those brilliant time management tips fly out!

Wordless Wednesday- Nutcracker Green Room

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 04:40:00 +0000

This photograph is completely out of focus, but there is something about it that draws me in. A quick moment in time of my daughter in her Peppermint costume -back stage in the Green Room...before The Little Nutcracker performance (December.)

Friggin'

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 04:37:00 +0000

JCK is often moved by the conversations she has with her children. They fill her with hope and awe and perhaps...trepidation.

GIRL: Mommy, you know how YOU and Daddy say "Friggin'?"

JCK: ... I don't think your daddy says "Friggin'"

GIRL: Well, you know how YOU say, "Friggin'?" You should really work on not saying it, because that gives BOY the idea. Then he thinks it is OK to say "Friggin'."

JCK will take this under advisement.

Life isn't meant to be lived in a ship with no one at the helm...

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Sat, 07 Jan 2012 04:55:00 +0000

Oh, I'd love to get together...but. My life is so... crazy! When can we get together? Can you believe it's been... six months? I haven't talked to you in... years. I would love to, but...

JCK is determined to not be that person this year. JCK is setting out for FACE TIME. JCK is going to sit across from her friends and WOman handle them. JCK is not going to let the flow of life Sucker Punch her. JCK is steering the ship this year. She isn't locked up in the hold. No, JCK is the lady pirate with a gap toothed smile and enough teeth to pull off that "too busy" stopper of succor, and let it rip! Life isn't meant to be lived in a ship with no one at the helm...

JCK is going to expand the definition of FACE TIME. In JCK's definition this means...

prioritizing relationships

seeing friends in person

pulling up a chair, picking up the phone and settling in for a long chat

JCK would also like to give a special shout-out to her blogger community. JCK is sure they have all but given up on her, but she asks them to bear with her. JCK is coming back, Sistahs! JCK knows that you saved her proverbial ass during those years of ankle biting children and no naps today and ye gads...the poop explosions. JCK knows who you are. And, JCK is grateful. JCK is raising her glass to you tonight and saying...thank you. Thank you for your friendship and reaching out across the darkness via the waves of Le Internet. JCK is humbled. JCK is...talking too much. But, JCK knows you will forgive her.

Face Time folks. It's what life is about. Texting and Facebook and Twitter are all titillating, but there ain't nothing real like Face Time. Resolution #2- FACE TIME with friends. More of it. Scheduled...

But, first I'm going to savor 2011 a bit longer...

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 06:50:00 +0000

I'm not sure what it is this year, but I find myself holding on to the holidays. Usually I am ready for the ornaments to come down from the tree, and the Christmas tree to hit the road. Usually...but not this year. This year, I am wanting to sit under the tree...for just one more night, and soak in it's magical golden glow.

2012 sounds good and rounded and full - of the possibility of circling back to all that feels right within. I'm not sure how I know this, but I do. I guess I'm more of an even number gal, yet I always like to take the left aisle in a crowded theater. Safety in the circling back, yet a little adventure to keep me on my toes.

Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Oh, it's that inevitable...wrestling match with the passage of time. And, wanting to hold on to all that feels lovely...

Holding on to...the afternoon of making cookies with my children in the mad scramble before Christmas, and delivering fresh baked cookies on Christmas eve.

Joy riding the myth of Santa with two children who want it to be true.

Holding on to their words, oh...the words these small people utter...

GIRL: Mommy, what if we see Santa flying by tonight when we are out looking at the Christmas lights?! Wouldn't that be cool!?

Yes, my darling GIRL...it would. I think I hear the jingle of bells.

Holding on to...my daughter in another Little Nutcracker - this time putting on her own stage makeup, adorable in her Peppermint costume.

Holding on to...the vision of my BOY on a curiosity quest - everyday.

Holding on to...my daughter realizing she can read a chapter book. Pausing every few pages to ask about a word, she finished her first one in two days. Passing on the love of books is a gift. Seeing your children embrace it...now, that's a treasure.

2012...I'm readying myself for you. But, first I'm going to savor 2011 a bit longer...

Reflections on New Year's Eve 2011

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Sun, 01 Jan 2012 06:28:00 +0000

Midnight is closing in, as I sit here in the quiet- all of my loved ones asleep. My house is full of the scents of our Southern New Year - collards, bacon, corn bread... Though we are Californians now, the tradition remains to pass along. I am replete with both anticipation for our annual open house tomorrow and thoughts on riding out the year of 2011.

It seems a good time to reflect on all that has changed this year. I wrote less, but branched out more. I do miss the days of early blogging, when I rushed to the keyboard, adrenaline pumping... Those days are gone, but my passion for writing is still here. The fire is banked, the coals needing a bit of a fresh breeze to stir them. I'm hopeful that 2012 will bring more frequency of words upon the page.

I am conscious of the many blessings in my life - my husband and children, our health, and being gainfully employed.

There have been many changes this year for my family. In the fall I started working full-time, which has brought many good things. I am happy to be earning a real pay check again, and to be a financial partner to my husband. The shift hasn't been easy- it never is. We struggle to find our way, like all couples do, when the family work needs two shoulders leaning into it - to get it done.

It's been a long time since I've made any kind of New Year's Resolutions. This year I find myself wanting those intentions - to be kinder to my husband, to have more patience with my children, to schedule writing and exercise time for myself. My whole being is starved for regular movement, and for eating well. My children are young, and I am not. I want to be here for them, for a long time... It's time to place the health of myself at the top of the list.

I want more face time with my friends. Real time. Dinner parties and meeting for tea, and taking hikes under both blue skies and days that threaten rain.

It was a simple Christmas this year, and I loved it. I envision more of the same with the freedom of less stuff.

This night I dream of new challenges ahead, and good times, better times for all. I am conscious of how much I have and how so many are going without.

Happy 2012! May all of our dreams and resolutions shine through the New Year...and help fuel a world with more love and intention for all.

Mommy, is Santa Claus real?

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Fri, 23 Dec 2011 18:44:00 +0000

It's that magical time of the year! Parents of wide-eyed and impressionable children are going fast and furious- making sure that their children are well nourished in Santa Claus Lore... despite the countdown to the TRUTH. JCK is no different. JCK has been getting her exercise trying to slam back that "Santa Claus" crushing SERVE smacked over the net by her two children.

Mommy, is there a Santa Claus?

Mommy, is Santa Claus real?

Mommy, do you sneak out in the night and buy us a bunch of presents?

JCK has been lobbing those balls back like nobody's business.

Well, what do YOU think? (Good volley, JCK)

Do I sneak out in the middle of the night and buy you a bunch of presents? No, I do not.

(Well, this is...TRUE. JCK does not sneak out in the middle of the night to purchase presents. There might be some...sneaking INTO THE KITCHEN to scarf down treats, but no one has to know about that.)

40 LOVE ...for JCK.

But, it's not feeling like JCK is winning. She is truly teetering on the fine-line edge of THE TRUTH, and it is uncomfortable. JCK has prided herself on being honest with her children, barring something that is age inappropriate. However, JCK knows that she is on a precipice now between what is real, what is imaginary, and the complicated parts betwixt the two. Everyone WANTS to BELIEVE...including the large child with silver hair. Will this be the last Christmas for the Santa hold-out?

JCK remembers when she heard there was NO SANTA! from one of those DO-GOODERS in Elementary school. JCK remembers going home and asking her mother and being devastated- devastated...when her mother told her the TRUTH.

Was the worst part that there was NO SANTA or that her parents had misled her? JCK is not sure, but JCK knows that she doesn't wish that onto her children. Yet, she just hasn't been able to let it go...this year. Perhaps JCK needs to believe in Santa more than her children do.

So, this Christmas, as you kiss those sweet little brows or hug your grown-up children, remember that the magic of Santa can come in many forms. At least, that's what JCK is telling herself...

Merry Christmas, to all! And to all a good night! HO! HO! HO!

I have yet to find my place

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Sun, 11 Dec 2011 07:13:00 +0000

I'm sitting on the sidelines of my own life. An audience member rather than a participant. Removed. Unable to reach the flow of the river, which is clearly moving at a rapid pace in one direction. There's that palpable ache again-it's reach deep into my psyche, yet the bruising is in my heart.

Writing is about the last thing I want to do right now, and the only thing I want to do. There is no in-between, no comfort zone. I am lashed by my own thoughts. Life is marching forward. I have yet to find my place.

If I squint my eyes I can barely make out a turn up ahead. If I could just jump in and ride, I'd be OK. It's the rocking back and forth with indecision and non-action that haunts me.

Then I'll huff & I'll puff & I'll blow your house down...

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Mon, 05 Dec 2011 03:58:00 +0000

The last few days have been high on weather DRAMA. Last Wednesday due to the gale force winds in our area, we lost all power until yesterday. It was an "adventure" for the first 24 hours, but by Friday we were tired of darkness and had started to toss out food. We were very lucky compared to many neighbors.

We had a window blow out in our sun porch/play room, and lots of branches and debris over both back and front yards. Many of our friends are still without power, and ...another wind advisory is in effect for tonight. It's been a good practice run for disaster preparedness.

Grateful for:

1) The old 1945 forced air gas furnace keeping us warm
2) The LED powered camping lantern
3) Old fashioned plug-in phone (land line)- no cell phone reception for 48 hours
3) A stove top with gas burners
4) Children who have learned how to play several card games
5) Kids Reading books by headlamps
6) Whiskey stocked
7) Coolers to ice down perishables
8) Emergency radio
9) Brother-n-law & Sister-n-law who let me work out of their home on Friday
10) Gas water heater - nothing like a hot shower to make you believe you can take on the day

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Note: these are all homes in our neighborhood.

the spaces in-between the going and the coming...

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Tue, 29 Nov 2011 05:29:00 +0000

Our fall is spectacular this year. Vivid reds and bright yellows overtaking the green. We in the land of nuance, where the change of season often flits by unnoticed. There is no subtlety about this Autumn, a photographer's dream.

The color guard marks the parallel growth of my children, also spectacular and extraordinary. My daughter has lost another tooth - the 8th of tiny little teeth that seem even smaller in hand. My son turned 8 last week. He takes up more room now, footfalls heavier on the floor boards, and his head bridging the gap between my chest and collar bone.

Last week I drank in my vacation in small increments -stopping to breathe in the peace of not being responsible for work. I spent time reading and eating, and sleeping the deep sleep of one without extra burdens.

Today my husband and I returned to work, and the children to school. All of us with obligations to carry out, and routines to follow. If I close my eyes, I can still feel the time off... fingers flexing, but not on the keyboard. It was a true Thanksgiving, and I am left with gratitude for family and for the spaces in-between the going and the coming...

The Sky Rockets

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Tue, 22 Nov 2011 13:34:00 +0000

BOY and GIRL were busy watching their favorite “new” show, The Brady Bunch. Unbeknownst to JCK, this episode had Bobby Brady kissing his first girl -causing a vision of sky rockets to blast off in a bubble above his head.

Overheard by JCK’s husband:

BOY (the romantic): I’m going to go kiss Mom and see if I see SKY ROCKETS.

GIRL (the pragmatist): You won’t.

JCK was in her room packing for their Thanksgiving trip.

BOY: Mom! Mom! Bend down.

JCK: (always suspicious of possible launches on her being): Why?

BOY: I want to give you something.

JCK: O.K…..

BOY planted a big smacker on JCK’s cheek.

PAUSE…

BOY: Darn it! It didn’t work.

BOY ran out of the room.

GIRL: I told you!

It appears visions of SKY ROCKETS are reserved for JCK’s husband...

You get beat up and you get chased by girls

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Wed, 16 Nov 2011 04:32:00 +0000

I love the conversations I have with my son when I am tucking him in at night. It is a struggle to get to the tucking in part...to get him to stop building Legos, or stop reading, and head to bed. Then, of course, there is that last bathroom stop and..brushing of teeth. BOY manages to drag this out for another 5-10 minutes. Finally, he makes it to his room and flings himself upon the top bunk, and shares what is on his mind - in that moment.

BOY: OOOF!..It's tough being a boy.

JCK: Why is it tough being a boy?

BOY: You get beat up and you get chased by girls.

JCK: Wow, that does sound tough.

BOY: It is...the girls run after me and try to kiss...

JCK: What? They aren't supposed to be doing that.

BOY: Well, they run after me and hug me and squeeze me.

JCK: Who are these girls? What grade are they in?

BOY: Mom, I don't stick around to ask. I'm running for my life!

schedule my own intermezzo

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Wed, 09 Nov 2011 01:22:00 +0000

Returning to work full-time has had its share of dips and dives. I love the paycheck, partnering as an income earner, and helping my family financially. Sharing the weight of it with my husband -this piece is very good. I feel more empowered, taller, calmer - someone to be taken seriously. For better or worse...I perceive my world as being better.

The challenge continues to be finding the rhythm of my days, fitting in what absolutely needs to be done for our household, and fitting in what I need to keep myself invigorated and creative. That last treasured piece has felt a bit like ruins under my feet. But... I am beginning to salvage fragments, and am determined to create the whole puzzle- even if it looks misshapen. Balance, perhaps not. Perhaps never. Passionate drive, always...yet, so elusive it slides into the darkness.

My children have adjusted well to aftercare three days a week. It is different...to pick them up and have them so happy to see me. They fling themselves upon me, wrapping their limbs around my legs... shouting MOMMY!! at the top of their lungs - faces covered with Happy Dirt, and mouths rapidly moving describing their day. Our evenings are fast paced- dinner, more times than not, is scrabbled together, then baths, and off to bed. The cherished story time often gets superseded by a game or all of us being just... too damn tired.

I'm not sure why I am so opposed to putting myself on a schedule. I know intellectually that my life will be the better for it. Yet, I avoid it at all costs, not wanting to be boxed in. There's that stubborn piece. The one that keeps me stuck, complaining that I don't have time for it all, when what I really need to do is schedule my own intermezzo. Excuse me...while I have a word with the conductor...

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"Wisdom Follows" -painting by Chuck Gumpert.

the full force of a Raging Mother

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Fri, 04 Nov 2011 04:17:00 +0000

I used to wonder why I was blessed with two challenging children. And, then I realized that we are all challenged and challenging in different ways. Each one of us flawed human beings, with demons that we exercise and need exorcised. Our children are no exception.

Tonight my daughter had one of her full-out tantrums in which she is so angry that she cannot see straight. She loses feeling of where her body is in space, and rages, flinging herself wildly around.

I handled it poorly. I met her anger force with mine. Not with physical force, but the full force of a Raging Mother.

That never works.

Later, after tears and hugs and tears again, we talked it through. She needs me now. More than ever. To guide her, and provide tools so that she can choose how she reacts to a situation in which she feels she has no control over.

We are both exhausted. But, we are on to something. A plan. One that will help facilitate a conscious negotiation, and not just a battle.

I rubbed her back as I sang to her tonight. It calmed us both. And, I ached with the thought that any of her pain had been caused by me...

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Sculpture called "Comforted" at The Sculpture Gallery.

Goodbye, Cali Girl, we shall miss you...

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Sun, 30 Oct 2011 04:48:00 +0000

She was a little pup in a pile of pups, yet the only one awake. As I walked up, she climbed over all of her sleeping brothers and sisters to greet me. A blond dog with eyelashes the color of caramel, and beautiful tilted eyes. I lifted her out -only to play with her for a few minutes, I convinced myself. I left the Humane Society an hour later with her in the front seat. When I arrived, climbing out of the car and depositing this small pup on the driveway, my husband said ...that's not a kitten. I had left to pick out a kitten. Minor detour. We named her Cali -setting our sights ahead to a future life in California. That was 14 1/2 years ago.

Cali brought us much. She was young and feisty and a great swimmer. A mix of lab and chow chow, she was what you'd call "a looker." She and our dog, Soul Man, were buddies. He black as night, she golden like the summer hills of Southern California. When our children arrived, she was good with them. Patient, patient...patient. When Soul Man died, she became more social. She liked it when we were outside. She would often wander into the middle of a back yard "pitch and hit" family baseball game, and lie down in the middle of the outfield - right where you wanted to go...

Other than eating, Cali loved hikes most of all. She chased deer and squirrels, and was the best gopher catcher to ever spend a weekend near Solvang.

She left us this night, peacefully, surrounded by love. We will be forever grateful to our lovely friend, and veterinarian who helped her to the next life in the comfort of her home. I like to imagine that there is a Heaven just for Dogs. And, that it looks like the book: "Go, Dog Go!", by P.D. Eastman. Do you like my hat?! Yes, we do...we really, really do! Goodbye, Cali Girl, we shall miss you...

The Weekly Chatter

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Sat, 22 Oct 2011 22:47:00 +0000

Like bonbons, the bon mots keep us going...

Earlier this week, GIRL and JCK were headed out of the house for Daisy Scouts. GIRL and BOY had been bouncing off the walls, amping each other up. Finally JCK and GIRL were able to get in the car and drive away.

JCK exasperated: GIRL, why did you get BOY so riled up? That's not fair to BOY or Daddy.

GIRL: Oh, I'm sure Daddy will get BOY unriled.

Upon JCK & GIRL's return, E.K. and BOY were having a creativity contest- LEGOS and Dominoes being the building materials. Earlier in the evening, they had a "Who can Build the Tallest LEGO Structure" contest.

E.K. building a tower.

BOY: Dad, it can't just be tall. It needs to have style.
*************************************************************

JCK and E.K. were talking about their 16th anniversary coming up (today.) There was a bit of reminiscing.

BOY (to E.K).: If your name had been Barf Face, Mom would never have married you.

Creativity dying a dusty death somewhere nearby

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Thu, 20 Oct 2011 00:00:00 +0000

Today, calling myself a writer feels deceptive. Oh...I miss it! The writing life. The sifting of words to replace the ordinary. The stretching of my brain into creative alleyways. That feeling, like no other, of stumbling down a path that alternates with smooth stones and unknown crevasses. I want it, all of it, and need it. But, for now, my writing life is sitting low. Sometimes it feels like it is just out of reach, patiently waiting for me, and other times it feels incredibly far away. As if that was another person entirely.

My writing muscles grow weak - my life taken over by The Must Do's, and my head cluttered with The To Do's. Creativity dying a dusty death somewhere nearby.

Words, like clothes, get old-fashioned, or mean and ridiculous, when they have been for some time laid aside —William Hazlitt

If I could have anything in my life at this moment, it would be the ability to do it all. The adjustment to working full-time has gone well, yet I feel overwhelmed...often. Perhaps, I have to accept that it is the perpetual state of one who works full-time, is a wife and mother, and who has some semblance of a writing career...on the side.

Apparently, moths are now attracted to eau du perimenopause

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Wed, 12 Oct 2011 19:56:00 +0000

JCK SWORE, and you know how JCK likes to curse, that she would not, could not, should not write another blog post referring in any way, shape or form to perimenopause. However, JCK lost. Alas, poor readers, here we are... adrift... on a sea of JCK's hot flash sweat. Before you venture further, JCK is giving you an Ally Ally Oxen Free. You are free to go elsewhere and read golden nuggets of wisdom and adventure on a wholesome and informative Parenting Blog. You will not find that here today.

Yessiree, Mr. Wilson, THE CHANGE has begun. JCK would say that the stress of THE CHANGE has turned her hair WHITE overnight, but you know that she would be lying. She will say that humor is of the essence in her home life now. That, and sleep. Oh, good grief, here comes Another HOT ONE...is there NO MERCY?! Excuse JCK while she strips down.

Where was she? Oh, yes. Sleep and maintaining a sense of humor. JCK, in pursuit of having an open dialogue with her children, talks about THE CHANGE every other hour or so. JCK's son is now claiming to have hot flashes of his own and JCK's daughter asked her just the other day:

Mommy, what's your favorite kind of hot flash?

Yes. She did say that.

They laughed and laughed, at JCK's expense, including JCK - lest you think she is humorless.

In all fairness, the discussion was about a movie and what each of their favorite moments were. GIRL seemed to feel it was a natural leap from movie moments to her mother's heated moments. Ahhh...the segue.

JCK believes she is emitting a new scent. Just this morning a moth started darting at her. Now, during normal circumstances of a moth darting at JCK, she would only be annoyed, but JCK started thinking a little too much and was righteously OFFENDED. JCK knows that moths are not butterflies drawn to flowers and sunlight. Moths are drawn to musty old closets. Apparently, moths are now attracted to eau du perimenopause. And, to JCK. She gritted her teeth and moved on. The moth dead on the floor. Smashed to bits by the toe of JCK's low heeled fuzzy slipper.

JCK is tired now. Most of the time. It used to be that JCK could get by several days a week on 5-7 hours of sleep a night. No more! By the time it is 8:30pm, JCK drops with exhaustion and often climbs into bed. There is many the time when JCK is tucking in her children that she wishes to curl up right there...next to the adorable cuteness. But, she manages to stumble back to her bedroom and tumble into her own lair. Whether it is to protect her sanity or her vanity, and there is no accident that those two words rhyme, JCK's vanity/sanity dictate that she retire to try again another day.

It is to be noted that: JCK's husband would probably want to debate JCK on the definition of "lair" & that JCK absolutely DENIES that she is a poseur.

Last night was a fairly good night. Only awakening once or twice in her own dew, JCK felt fairly refreshed when she awakened this morning. However, her face appeared to have hillocks under her eyes. Not to be deterred, JCK slathered her anti-PUFF lotion under her eyes. It felt so soothing, she spread it over her entire visage. What lovely oil. mmm.... And then, she realized!@#*^!!?? that she had been smearing anti-frizz hair oil all over her face.

Lest you worry, JCK wasn't that upset. You know... one time, one mistake. Happens to everyone. She's always saying that to her children. Except that she looked at the amount left in the bottle and now believes that she may have been putting this on her face for a few days. Perhaps JCK needs a bit more sleep. She'll need all of her energy to run away from the ATTACK moths...

I love you more than the Universe

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Fri, 30 Sep 2011 00:20:00 +0000

Dearest GIRL,

Last week you turned 7. You said it best...Mommy, I think my body is growing so much because it knows I'm about to turn 7.

I can never express how proud I am of you. Each day you are open to see what you can accomplish. You reach high and usually succeed. Your tenacity and willingness to try it again will serve you well in life. I admire your spirit and how you never give up.

You have an old soul that is visible in your eyes and spirit. You often seem much older than your age. Sometimes I forget... I treasure our conversations and your curiosity about life. You ask lots of questions, and sometimes the answers you receive are not enough. You have to ask more questions until you are satisfied.

You have a fiery temper. Sometimes it is hard to reach you, because you are so angry. But, after you have had your space to cool down, and when you are ready to talk it through, the anger passes. One of the things that infuriates you is when something isn't fair. I wish that life was fair, my love, but it isn't. However, there is one thing I do know. If there is a way to make things fair in a situation, you will do it.

I love how you stand up for yourself, and are not swayed by your peers. If you don't agree with something a friend is doing, you bow out. You are learning how to do this gracefully.

In addition to your writing notebook that you keep in your back pack, you have started keeping a diary. I love how you go to your room, close the door and take the time to write down your thoughts. I hope that you will always take that time for yourself. It is important.

You've assimilated so easily into our new schedule with extended days after school. I wasn't sure how it would be for you, but you've greeted the new change with your usual eagerness. When I pick you up, you run across the field or the parking lot or the cafeteria - wherever you are, you run...shout MOMMY!!! and throw your arms around me. It is the best greeting in the world.

I love how you are not caught up in our media culture. You don't yearn to be a rock star or wear the latest fashions. You aren't afraid to get dirty when you play, and you love to dress up for something special. You are confident in yourself. I hope you will always have it. It is something special.

During your birthday shower at school, you told me one of your friends said, "I like how you are always caring about other people." How lovely that another 1st grader has that perception about you. You have the ability to be friends with everyone. And, that is admirable.

You are busy with many things this year...Choir and Daisy Scouts and Ballet. I sat back and watched you last night at your first Daisy Scouts meeting. You jumped right in with your usual excitement. I took in your beauty - your brown hair flying out as you danced, your swirling skirt and long legs, and your radiant smile. And, I was full.

You are still saying that you want to be a Kindergarten Teacher when you grow up. Whatever it is that you decide to do, everyone around you will be the better for you being in their lives.

I love you more than the Universe, the stars, banana splits, mustard, hot dogs, artichokes, boomerangs and of course up to the moon and back. You are my schnooks, always. I treasure you, and feel lucky every day to have you as my daughter.

Love,

Your Mommy

this was a completely ordinary morning

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Sat, 24 Sep 2011 00:10:00 +0000

JCK believes in being candid and open with her children - within reason and when appropriate. At least this is what JCK strives...for. It is to be mentioned that sometimes this plan backfires and gets JCK in hot soup. Speaking of hot, JCK was driving her children to school the other morning when the following ensued.

BOY: OWWW! My foot feels like it's on FIRE! It REALLY hurts, Mom. OWWWW...

JCK would like to mention that this was a completely ordinary morning in the Motherscribe household. Feet on fire, being brutalized by the fierce seat belt bully, JCK's son is prone to exaggeration. JCK has NO idea where he gets it from.

GIRL-- staring at her brother...perhaps a rolling of eyes.

JCK: (Making her best effort to redirect.) BOY, I think you're going to be all right. You can be like me. I feel like I'm on fire all the time now.

GIRL: You do?

JCK: Yes. You know how a woman can have a baby?

GIRL: Yes.

BOY -- Beginning to nod off, but the fire in his foot appears to have abated.

JCK: Well, when a woman gets older, her body can't have babies anymore and her body gets a little wacky and she gets hot flashes. It's pretty weird, because your body feels like it is on fire.

GIRL: Does your uterus blow up?

Nothing like laughter with your children to overcome hot flash entertainment...

But, before JCK goes up in flames...

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Fri, 16 Sep 2011 22:10:00 +0000

JCK is a bit verklempt. Throw in gobsmacked, with a splash of agog, and you get the picture. This would have nothing to do with her turning 50 next week, or that she recently accepted a full-time job the week before her children started back to school. Or, that her husband has nicknamed her, with affection, Woman on Fire - not for her fiery spirit, but more for the fire that appears to rage on and off within her body day & night. Ahhh...the hot flashes. Ain't life grand?

But, before JCK goes up in flames... she does wish to put down on paper that her children have assimilated into the new schedule of three days a week in aftercare with not only aplomb, but eagerness. Indeed, JCK is now greeted with such effusive hugs and exuberant cries that she wonders why she didn't do this...earlier. It helps that her children are in an aftercare program that is run by an amazing summer camp - young counselors who play and engage the children - rather than sitting back and watching them. But, it is more than that. The Motherscribe Household was ready for the change, and BOY & GIRL are happy.

In fact, the person who has had the hardest adjustment is JCK herself. Can she say...Time Management. She wishes she could, but every time she tries to say it ...she's run out of time. So, JCK asks that you bear with her as she navigates this new path. She longs to be here writing more often, but she's being pulled in many directions. She's turning 50 (yes, she did just say that AGAIN), and keeping her chin up, along with other equipment. It's a losing battle, but she's pretending it isn't. The denial will work for a few more days, but then she'll have to smile, tuck her butt in and give a big whoop! After all, she's worked hard to get here...

September 11th is a reminder of our ability to come together

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Mon, 12 Sep 2011 05:38:00 +0000

Today I am struck with the how, why and where's. And what I would have said to my children, had I had children then, on that September 11th morning born of a crisp blue sky, when five minutes before people were going about their day, alive, and then they were not.

We all have our memories of where we were when it happened. I remember I had left for work, and turned on NPR for my commute, as I did every morning. I only drove a few blocks, before turning around and coming home. Sobered, and not clear at all on what I was really hearing, I walked back in the front door and called out to my husband. We turned on the television. And, sat there for hours, watching the twin towers fall again, and again.

I turned 40 eight days later. We had a party. It was a little odd celebrating life and decades lived, when just days before there had been so much death. Although I hadn't been anywhere near the tragedies on that day, I still wondered...why me? Why do I get to be here and celebrate 40 years, and they don't? What is my purpose?

I'm not sure what I would have said to my children had they been here on 9/11. But, I have been thinking about all of the parents who did have to explain this day of tragedy, 10 years ago. And, of the children whose parents did not come home that day. Or ever again.

I wonder about the moms and dads who until that day were like me. Perhaps they worried that their daughter would forget to look both ways before she crossed the street. Or, that their car would be sideswiped at the exact moment that their son was playing, yet again, with his seat belt. Did they worry that they might not be the parents that they yearned to be? That they weren't sure they were strong enough, resilient enough, to see their child with extreme attention difficulties, through his school years. Or, worry that their daughter would later blame them for blatant neglect, their own energy and attention sucked into the child with challenges.

These are my worries today. I am blessed to have them, although I rarely feel that way, getting sucked into my own self-involved vortex.

September 11th is a reminder of our ability to come together in the midst of horrific tragedy, and that there is no community too large. It is the stories we share together that move us. And the Chapter of 9/11 cuts a wide swath, yet an opportunity to reach out to one another.

My children are still young. Yet, I hope that I can share more with them than the death and devastation of that day. Perhaps the purpose for some of us, is to stretch and grow and strain and even breakdown. Because we can... those that died cannot. And, they'd do it for us.

Tell me about the week, Mama.

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Wed, 07 Sep 2011 21:42:00 +0000

My daughter and I have a ritual. After lights out, I sit on her bed in the dark and we talk about the upcoming week. She likes me to go over each day, telling her what is planned, what may happen, and what could be. GIRL is not big on surprises. She loves her life carved out in orderly pieces, with dashes of spontaneity.

Sunday night was such a night. We were at my mother's house, so she was sleeping in a big bed. I was able to lie next to her, both of us quietly breathing in the dark.

Tell me about the week, Mama.

And, I did.

We arrived at Tuesday, the first day of 1st grade.

Would you like me to walk you to your classroom on Tuesday, GIRL?

Yes, Mommy.

There was a sigh in the dark. Both of us, in synch, thinking very different thoughts.

Mommy, do parents get to stay for the morning on the first day in 1st grade, like they did in Kindergarten?

I don't think so, GIRL.

OK. Then I don't want you to volunteer on Tuesday.

Would you like to have the day to yourself, so that you can tell me about it?

Yes! And, after Tuesday, you can volunteer whenever you want to! But, not on Tuesday.

O.K., my little schnooks.

I kissed the soft baby hair that falls across my daughter's forehead, and said Good Night.

How can this little girl be so wise?

And, then came yesterday...

I was fine until GIRL lined up with all the children outside the classroom, and GIRL's teacher told the parents to give their child a hug and a kiss good-bye. It was time. Everyone knew it, but me. I hugged my GIRL tight, and let go... Then I walked away. She was ready, but my sunglasses didn't quite make it back over my wet eyes...