Motherscribe

Conversations about...teenagers and other matters, including underwear

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Tue, 18 Jun 2013 05:13:00 +0000

There are times where you look at pictures of your children and wish that you could be back there ...even for a moment. I know that it won't be long from now when I will see this time, right now, as one of those moments. How long ago it feels, yet I am so grateful for the photographs that stir memories of my life at home with them.

There is much to celebrate in the presence of these two right now. Most especially in the conversations that we have...

Let's take teenagers for example. My children are fascinated with them. GIRL idolizes our babysitters, and BOY thinks teenagers have it made...because he imagines they have unlimited access and time for devices and freedom to use BAD WORDS...

Trip to the bookstore:

Bookseller: What kind of books are you looking for?

BOY: Well, you know, I'm almost a teenager.

Bookseller: Really...? How old are you?

BOY: 9 1/2.

Conversation at home:

GIRL: Mommy, do teenagers have recess?

JCK: Well, yes...they have a break during lunch.

GIRL: What do they do during recess?

JCK: They mostly hang out with their friends, eat, study...things like that.

GIRL: They don't play at all?

JCK: Not really...not in the same way you do.

GIRL: That's really lame.

Conversation in the car on women's underwear:

GIRL: Mommy, what's a thong?

JCK: A thong?[!!!cough...cough??!!]

GIRL: Yes, a mom called her daughter's flip-flops...thongs, and some other girls started laughing and saying thongs are underwear?

JCK: Well...yes, that is true.

GIRL: It's underwear?

JCK: Well, you know how flip-flops have a section that goes between your big toe and the next toe?

GIRL: Yeah.

JCK: Well, a thong is a kind of women's underwear that covers the front of you and has a section that goes between your butt.

GIRL: That is disgusting.

JCK figures thinking about how lame teenagers are will last about... 24 hours in BOY's mind. GIRL? Now, she's willing to take her time to get there...

What teachers say...

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Fri, 14 Jun 2013 04:36:00 +0000

GIRL: Mommy, Ms. J told us that coffee makes you short. She said that is why she ended up being short, because she looooves coffee and now she is short.

JCK: I think...Ms. J was joking, sweetie.

GIRL: No, she had her serious face. When Ms. J has her serious face she is not joking.

JCK: Well...GIRL.

GIRL: She didn't smile afterwards...She had her serious face and didn't smile. She smiles later if she is joking.

JCK: mmmmm...then probably best to steer clear of coffee, GIRL.

JCK's children have both been lucky enough to have Ms. J. She will be treasured always...for her belief in each child, for her humor, and for her amazing teaching. Thank you, J...

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Photo courtesy of: healertoday.com

Minecrack is a candybox devil game

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Sat, 08 Jun 2013 03:00:00 +0000

My son is 9 1/2. He has one passion, and we call it... Minecrack.

Minecrack is a candybox devil game originally created by Swedish programmer Markus "Notmyproblem" Persona non grata and later developed and published by Mobetterthanyourparents. It was publicly released for the PC[Parents Computer] on May 17, 2009, as a developmental alphamaleboy version and, after gradual updates, was published as a full release Seratonin version on November 18, 2011. A version for Mom's phone was released a month earlier on October 7, and an SOS[Suckers oh you Suckers] version was released on November 17, 2011. On May 9, 2012, the game was released on crackbox 360 as an heroinbox Live Arcade game, co-developed by 4Junior Sadists. All versions of Minecrack receive periodic updates.

The creative and building aspects of Minecrack allow players to build constructions out of textured sugar cubes in a 3D highly addictive world. Other activities in the game include exploration, gathering resources, crafting, and combat. Gameplay in its commercial $$$$$$$$$ release has two principal modes: survival of very few brain cells, which requires players to acquire resources and maintain their healthlessliving and hungerformore; and you too can be a creative genius, where players have an unlimited supply of resources, the ability to fly in the face of their parents, and no health or hunger. A third gameplay mode named hardcore is the same as survival, differing only in difficulty yanking it out of your child's hands; it is set to hardest setting and respawning is disabled, forcing players to delete their worlds upon their parents' deaths.

Minecrack received five awards from the 2011 Game Conspirators Developers Conference: it was awarded the Inhalant Award, Best Downloadable Game that your Parents Regret Buying Award, and the Best Disaster to the Family Unit Game Award from the Heinous Game Developers NonChoice for Parents Awards; and the Laughing All the Way to the Bank Audience Award, as well as the Sicko Maniacal Grand Prize, from the Dependent Habit Forming Games Festival in 2011. In 2012, Minecrack was awarded a Golden Joystick Up the Parents' Wazoo Award in the category Best Downloadable Game to Ruin the Formerly Functioning Family.^[7] As of April 8, 2013, the game has sold over 10 million copies on PC^[8] and as of January 22, 2013, over 20 million copies across all ~~platforms~~ households.^[9]

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Photo courtesy of n4g.com

between leaving your comfort zone and landing in the new place

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Sat, 01 Jun 2013 23:49:00 +0000

Life was opening up … like an orchid in bloom —T.Coraghessan Boyle

Change is one of those things that exhausts and challenges us, yet it often brings new, positive energy into our lives. Or... that is what I like to tell myself every time I am undergoing some kind of change. My job is coming to an end soon, and I have an opportunity to think about what I'd like to do next, and to look for a new job. A double-edged sword: it could be my El Dorado, but I might have to dig for it.

As a parent, when it comes to change, I often think about how it affects my children- how they handle transitions during the day in school or doing something for the first time that they've never done before. I recognize that life is about change, and that children need to be able to navigate change themselves. But...however difficult change can be for children, I believe it's even harder for us, as adults, when we have to step out of our comfort zones.

Here we are, having designed our lives to be what feels agreeable, if not always the most fulfilling choice- but we are at ease. We have our daily routines during the week and our weekends fill in the pattern. We create how the interiors of our homes look, how we design our yard, who we create community with, all of it, for the most part, within the landscape of our control.

Unless we have a job that is continually throwing us curves, we don't transition much into change. So, change can be very frightening, and unnerving. Especially if we don't know what is going to happen...next. Or, how things will look in two weeks or 6 months.

As a child, I moved a lot. By the time I was fifteen, I had lived in 9 different homes or apartments - not including extended hotel stays in-between some of those moves. When I met my husband, I was living in place #24 (and I'm probably forgetting a couple.) I now live in #28. It's the longest place I've ever called home, having been here 13 years...a lifetime to a former nomad.

Part of me welcomes transition, because I do know from experience that it can bring adventure and new people into my life that I wouldn't have encountered otherwise. But, also...the idea of change brings with it a certain dread, knowing that I will have to Bring IT to the table, and bring ME with IT. I will be shaken from the comfort of my regular routines, that which I deem within my control.

Moving that many times taught me this... I can do it. Sometimes I have to keep reminding myself that this is true. I can do it. Yes, I can. Change is good. It shakes you up, enables you to look at the world a little differently, and it empowers you to see yourself in a new light. It's that transition between leaving your comfort zone and landing in the new place that is so difficult to maneuver. But, going from I can do it to ...yes, I did it, and, look at me now...is what enables me to grow.

Anticipate change as though you had left it behind you —Rainer Maria Rilke

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"Between Darkness and Wonder" Painting by Chuck Gumpert

There is great beauty in simple things

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Wed, 29 May 2013 06:27:00 +0000

I love tucking my daughter in at night. There is an intimacy in the dark that invites secrets. Tonight she asked me about Reiki - an overheard conversation that she was curious about. We talked about energy work, and I explained how all of us have energy within us that can be felt. I took her hands and spaced them a few inches from mine –palm to palm. I asked if she could feel the heat and tingling. She felt a warmth, but no tingling. She was disappointed that it wasn’t more tangible.

I adore her. There are times when my heart literally feels like it will burst – so great is the love that pours out of me. We talk of so many things. And, her questions are always well thought out – her natural curiosity, and hunger for knowledge, a gift I don’t take lightly. She is my amazing little girl who will soon be leaving 2^nd grade behind.

She is an old soul, my girl, and I am incredibly blessed with this daughter I call my own. This daughter, who is her own person, her spirit full and strong and fierce. There is great beauty in simple things. Spending this time with my daughter is one of them.

She still sleeps with her cozy blanket. It must be tucked up under her chin, just so, flatly laid across the sheet – or, she cannot go to sleep. I imagine someday that this same blanket will be folded neatly at the end of the bed, or put away in the closet, and my fingers will reach out...touching the soft fabric, and I will remember how we used to whisper in the dark...

Passage of time

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Fri, 24 May 2013 04:59:00 +0000

As summer nears, my children walk around with flood pants - revelations of tender, exposed ankles and lengthening limbs. Last week I was transferring photographs, and as their baby pictures flew across the screen...I wept. I wanted to be back in our rocking chair, holding their sweet bodies in my lap, fat bellies full, and taking in that delicious scent of baby. Those days are gone forever.

A poem from a few years ago...

Will I remember it,

this life we have now
moments in a day
long passed.

When I measured them
against a doorjamb
with pencil, a ruler
and pink measuring tape.

Each rushing to be
the first one
Me First! No, Me!
But, it's MY turn.

When I said it was not quite
time for me to say good-bye and
she said she wanted to hug me
just because she wanted to.

When I overheard their battle
he shouting, I'm leaving
and she said, filled with hope
To Africa!?

The many nights of losing sleep
because he came into our room
yet once, after a night out
gasping, Mom, you're home!

The push and pull of asking
for help or NOT
Mommy, will you tie this in a bow
...I can do it MYSELF!

Seeing the metamorphosis from
tentative to self-confident
painstakingly slow...and
then like quicksilver.

Stepping on train tracks
strewn carelessly
across the floor, out the door
and to his imagined beyond.

Her small hand tucked in mine
so soft, so very soft
the tiny fingers growing
bigger every day.

The way he threw his arms
around his swimming teacher
topped off with a kiss
upon her shoulder.

Pretending to fly with them
running and flinging ourselves
upon the couch, tummy first
muscles screaming, yet worth it.

The cadence of her voice
filling the room
as she "reads" aloud
for her own pleasure.

His blessing at dinner
thanking God for us
for his grandparents
and the homeless woman.

The hours they spent
in make-believe lives
playing together and
needing no one else.

Will I remember sitting here
on the edge of his bed
small, overturned shoes
cradling my tired feet.

A boy not yet ready
for me to leave
him alone, eyes closed
to his unknown dreams.

A girl attuned to his every sound
lying in her bed, across from his
deep breaths stirring in the dark.

They are my children, these two
one a boy, on his way to five
and a girl almost four
two of them, ten months apart...

Will I remember it,
this life we have now
Oh Yes! in every fiber,
every cell, of my being.

JCK and the almost Cataclysmic Kinky Kindle Calamity...

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Sat, 18 May 2013 04:57:00 +0000

Prologue: Last fall, upon her birthday, JCK received a book from her husband. A book that we shall call ...steamy. Whether well written or not, is still up for debate, but clearly JCK scored in husbandry if not literature. This novel is known in some circles as the book that launched 12,987,008 orgasms.

JCK's son, who attends a local public school, likes to surprise his teachers and his parents with the items he both brings to school, and brings home. Yes, this BOY has his own pockets of resistance. Emptying his backpack is like attending a carnival, but not the one leading up to Lent. JCK has retrieved such hoarded wealth as LEGO men, stuffed animals, coins, rocks, and crumbled energy bar wrappers, as well as a recent objet d'art...a milk carton, buried in a side pocket, that had soured and caused palpable havoc amongst the Minivan passengers, and the surrounding countryside. Cheese makers in France would have been proud.

JCK, when she is not working, worrying about her children, attending committee meetings, doing mundane household tasks, pulling out her hair over the use of delicate bon mots within her blog posts, or having wild sex with her husband...reads. She reads lots of books. Some books, understandably, she does not display for her children to peruse. N'est-ce pas? One example would be THAT BOOK she received from her husband on her birthday, and the subsequent sequels she downloaded on her Kindle Fire. Yes, she is a glutton for decadence, our JCK.

Surprisingly, JCK is not what you would call a computer geek. She can roll with the average computer literati, but that's about as far as she'll take it. Therefore, when JCK downloads books on her device, she just lets them pop into her "book shelf". Leave them on the Cloud? What cloud? JCK is sure you get the point.

So, it was that one morning, unbeknownst to JCK, her son went to school with JCK's device, which contained her most recent downloads....otherwise known as The Postmodernism Deconstruction Pornographic Trilogy for Mommies, e.g.,. lots of talk about Moby Dick without the Moby.

You can imagine JCK's surprise when she received a text from the BOY's teacher stating that BOY had absconded to secondary school with JCK's Kindle Fire in tow, and was found using it on the playground surrounded by other children. Now, when JCK first received the text, she did not realize the full implications of what this could mean. Noooo... what transpired in JCK's fertile brain was anger and Mama Righteousness ...because, BOY had taken her device without asking.

It would be much later in the day, hours later, when the full import of what had happened would strike JCK's consciousness like a visceral blow. BOY's talent with electronic devices, and the knowledge of his facile ability to manipulate the Kindle Fire would send JCK into paraoxyms of High Anxiety and Deep Shame. Is THIS how her son would learn about...the birds and the bees?!

JCK considered attending the school aftercare pick-up incognito. If her hot flashes didn't kick in, she might be able to get away with one of her husband's old jackets? And she still had her Ginger wig from that Halloween a few years back..

JCK chose the path of least resistance, deciding to forgo the disguise in favor of being cooler. If all and sundry or even sundry were going to look at JCK with severity of expression, she didn't want to be misinterpreted by throwing her clothes off during a hot flash, and see heads bobbing up and down thinking she was still throbbing from 50 Shades of Shame Parenting.

Epitaph: Hark! Is there a happy ending to this tale? Mayhap a... summation as follows... It turned out that BOY was more interested in video games than in exploring the writings of a particular subject. No book was opened. No pages turned. However, JCK did fly through the school gate, pick up her children, all while managing to wrench the Kindle Fire out of her son's deadly grip. When she arrived home, JCK sent her Fifty Shades of Bondage & Fifty Shades of Scandal soaring back to the...CLOUD... with no one the wiser. You BET your Cayman Islands dollar JCK feels that she won the absolution lottery; hereafter known as JCK and the almost Cataclysmic Kinky Kindle Calamity...or why JCK's hair turned ....50 Shades Whiter.

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Photo credits: fishnets, cheese, whoop ass, LEGO figure

JCK wishes to dedicate this post to her friend, S.

How BOY petitioned GOD for GIRL and other Mothering tales

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Tue, 14 May 2013 05:11:00 +0000

I will never forget my first Mother's Day as a mother, nor the many years of painful Mother's Days in which I was not a mother. If an amazing young woman hadn't come into our lives, and chosen myself and my husband to be the adoptive parents to her baby, I would not be a Mother. My son came to us by the blessing of adoption. I have no doubt that our daughter came to us only because our son had a pow-wow with God. I imagine it going something like this:

BOY: Hey God! Hey you, God man?!

GOD: Yep. I'm here.

BOY: I'm having a pretty good life, but it's missing something. Do you think you could help me out? I'm a bit...bored.

GOD: mmm...another ADHD kid, eh?

BOY: You KNOW IT, God.

GOD: Well, what would you like me to do?

BOY: I'd like a sister, and NOW, if you don't mind.

GOD: Well, you know you'd be pretty close in age. Like...9 months and 27 days.

BOY: It's OK. I can handle it.

GOD: Maybe you could, but I'm not too sure about your parents.

BOY: Oh, no worries! I got that covered.

GOD: Well, I do see that you are rather an active and social fellow.

BOY: Oh, you saw me crawling over all those moms at play group? And, keening for 6 weeks every night with colic?

GOD: Yes. I also saw your parents drinking a lot of Jack Daniels.

BOY: So, you see! I need a sister, right?

GOD: Seriously?

BOY: Yes, GOD, I really do. My parents would LOVE it. Oh, OH... and my mom could carry us under each arm like footballs! She'd have awesome, pumped-up, arms.

GOD: You've got a point.
BOY: I thought you would get that.

GOD: Yes...well, I think this calls for a very special GIRL.

BOY: A sister who will adore me?

GOD: Yes. And, whom you will adore.

BOY: Great! I am ready.

GOD: But, remember...to be kind to your Mama. She might get a little nutty.

BOY: That's OK. Nutty moms ROCK!

And, with that...GIRL was conceived. And, love overfloweth...

A few of my favorite Mothering Posts that describe the journey:

I used to hate Mother's Day

A Mother's Day Poem

The journey of Motherhood is continually changing for me

Why is it that we are so bloody hard on ourselves as mothers?

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Photo of JCK holding her BOY and pregnant with GIRL- May 2004

So, I do it, because I have to, because I need to...

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Wed, 08 May 2013 05:15:00 +0000

In May of 2007, when I was an exhausted stay-at-home mother with two children aged 3 and 2, I read an article about blogging and decided to try it. I'm not sure what I imagined, but it was certainly not that I would still be here today, six years later...putting words on blank pages and tossing them out into the world.

I find the act of writing both freeing and incredibly painful. The gift of getting rid of words that weigh inside me and letting them float and land where they will is indescribable. The process of writing when I feel I have absolutely nothing to say, that it has all been said before, and wondering if I can still do it is torturous. But, I do it, because I have to, because I need to...and somehow my world which seems banal and off kilter before I sit down to write, has righted itself and my breathing is less shallow.

I have struggled as a parent, as a wife, and most of all as a woman trying to find herself. I am so grateful for the blogging community that welcomed me into the fold, and for all the many friends I've met along the way. Six years and 8,893 comments later, I feel blessed for all of you who take the time to read, and to share your thoughts and wisdom with me.

A writer writes. It is a solitary process. If she is lucky, her words will resonate with another human being somewhere in a space where the world is wide-open. Thank you for opening up your hearts to me and for reading...

Hallelujah, Monday has risen! Our children have gone back to school today!

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Tue, 07 May 2013 04:35:00 +0000

Last night, my husband and I sat down for five minutes on the couch together, our eyes mirroring the shared despair of a family night gone awry. Actually it was probably more of a... falling down on the couch, both of us ill equipped to move limb or brain any further along the path of Parental Responsibility. Let's just say it wasn't a shining moment for the family history books.

Aiming for some quality time together, we had attempted a game of Parcheesi with our two children. It felt like a coup when we were finally able to lure our 9 year old son to a game that didn't have a screen. Our 8 year old daughter, who loves games, jumped in, and the potential for "fun had by all" was looking pretty darn good. Unfortunately, our best intentions quickly flew by the wayside when the game erupted into a battleground of carelessly tossed dice knocking over pawns, bickering, and mixed-up turns, ultimately becoming an exercise in frustration.

Today my husband rated our family game night as the second nastiest in his life...er, right up there under an ill fated Monopoly game from his past, in which he said everyone nearly came to blows. And, that was with um...grown-up people. What IS it about games that often brings out the worst in families?

We all have bad days as a parent, and as a family. When those days fall on the weekend, our children's return to school on Monday morning can be a real cause for celebration. Sometimes, you just have to shout from the mountain top: Hallelujah, Monday has risen! Our children have gone back to school today! Praise secondary education! Amen, brothers and sisters... Amen...indeed.

We all take life for granted, until we can't...

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Thu, 02 May 2013 04:30:00 +0000

2013 has been the year of the C-WORD. That word. Yes. Cancer. So many friends diagnosed that it feels like being bludgeoned. And, then...my father was diagnosed with Stage 2 Hodgkins Lymphoma in January. He has survived the poison of chemo and radiation, and appears to be coming out the other side. I am in awe of his courage, determination and ability to recognize that ...it could have been so much worse. His words. Not mine. I have never been prouder of my father, and felt so helpless at the same time.

Mortality. The state or condition of being subject to Death. Transience, impermanence, ephemerality. The state of being mortal...

Death will come for all of us. Yet, somehow ...at 51, I still cling to the childish notion that my parents will be here forever. Until I'm ready for them to go, which I'll never be. Ready. Of course it is their journey, not mine, but I still keep grabbing for the steering wheel in their car, thinking I can control where we are going.

They think they got it all. The cancer. No promises, but things look good. The doctors are optimistic, and I ...cling to this, digging my nails, like talons, into each piece of good news. So, I sound calm on the phone and do my best to be Jenny. That daughter who is sweet and loving and there for him. And, I am that daughter. But, I am also that child, and I need my daddy to be around for a lot longer.

Deep breath. If I'm honest, I have to acknowledge that bearing witness to my father's journey is a stepping stone to facing the reality that someday I will no longer be here. And, that scares the shit out of me. That I will be taken before I am ready. That I won't get to sit in a rocking chair on the porch with my husband next to me, and grandchildren tumbling about my feet.

Death will come to all of us. We can't escape it. So, we keep pedaling uphill, and hope that on the downhill ride we can coast and forget the brakes. Because, we all take life for granted, until we can't...

There should be 3 LAWS and no more RULES

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Tue, 30 Apr 2013 06:00:00 +0000

BOY: Mom, I think there should be 3 laws and no more rules.

Law #1: Parents have to do what kids say or beware of the consequences

Law #2: No kids have to go to school

Law #3: There will be Peace everywhere. No more kids getting their ice cream stolen.

JCK: Er...in reference to Law #3, I wasn't aware that kids getting their ice cream stolen was a problem?

BOY: It IS for kids!

put the oxygen mask on yourself first...

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Thu, 25 Apr 2013 19:36:00 +0000

It is one of those exquisite California days, when the crisp blue sky kisses the mountain tops, newly minted from our recent rain. I am sitting in my office looking out at our lemon tree, which bursts with fruit the color of happiness. I watch the flight of a butterfly veering in a dizzy path, drunk on the sunshine. I take in all of it, hungry for the pauses in life in which I recognize and see these things around me...so often missing them in the flurry of necessity and responsibility.

I have missed this place where I can both soar and sink, depending on how far I'm willing to stretch myself. I need to let the words out, allowing them to be free. Why is it as women and mothers that we so often put our own needs last?

I am grateful today for friends who remind me that I need to put on the oxygen mask first, before helping others. What greater lesson can we give to our children than by modeling for them that it is OK to ask for help, that we can't do it all, and that it is unhealthy to try.

My son has ADHD. Parenting a child with ADHD is emotionally exhausting, never dull, and often an entry to ways of thinking and doing that I had never imagined.There are many gifts and many challenges. He went through a stage recently where he was waking up every night during the night, and then getting up at 5am. We were exhausted. All of us. Yet, I love that he still likes to plop into my lap. His 70lb body overtaking my lap, and his soft cheek tucking into my neck.

The other day my daughter put on a new pink dress, a beloved hand-me-down from her cousins. I watched her twirl... the skirt swirling out in circles. Her growing independence is both beautiful and bittersweet. I worry often that she gets overshadowed by her brother, when she deserves to be fully seen. This week, before school one morning, she took out a paint brush and painted "I HEART Mom" in wide green strokes -presenting it to me with a smile as big as the earth, the paint still wet and thick on the paper.

These two children, so different from one another, and so treasured. Just as I care for them, I need to care for myself. It is the only way to be fully present...

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Wed, 09 Jan 2013 02:00:00 +0000

The return to school post holiday break has been a rough ride in the mornings at Casa de Motherscribe. For all involved... No one wants to get up. No one. It is dark. It is cold. It is time for school, work and life to resume, yet who wants to do that? Not JCK's children, apparently.

This morning after going through the check list: shoes & socks on, hair brushed, breakfast eaten, backpacks ready, and lunches packed, they were off with 8 minutes to spare until the school gate closed. Clutching her cup of tea to her bosom, JCK hustled her two children to the car.

Enroute, JCK looked down into her cup of sacred liquid caffeine of Jasmine and made a small gasp...

JCK: Oh, yuck a bug flew in my cup. Oh, well...

BOY: Mom! You CAN'T drink out of that cup!

JCK: Oh, a little bug won't hurt me, I'll just get it out.

BOY: MOM!! Bugs carry DISEASES!! You CANNOT drink out of that cup.

JCK: A little bug isn't going to hurt me, BOY! For Heaven's Sake.

JCK drinks....

BOY: OK! MOM! I CANNOT BE RESPONSIBLE IF YOU DIE!

Little does BOY know that JCK would die indeed without her ritual cup of tea in the morning. GIRL, wise one that she is...refrained from commenting...

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Photo courtesy of: knotworkshop.com

Beauty in all things...

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Tue, 08 Jan 2013 04:37:00 +0000

There are days in which writing is like slogging through mud...backwards. I've grown adept at avoiding myself here on the page. Naively, I keep believing that one day I will wake up and it will be easy again - words tumbling end over end to land in neat rows. This New Year brings with it hope and thoughts of starting fresh, a clean slate, and letting go of things that tug me down into a dissatisfying stew of deep misgivings and second guesses.

As always, I see the passage of time, that elusive will-o'-the-wisp, through the lives of my children. Their limbs grow longer and they move with more purpose. I continue to be amazed by their differences. My daughter lives to go to school. She loves every aspect of learning, stretching and challenging herself. My son's discomfort with doing work in the classroom is a constant onslaught of a very different set of challenges, and it just keeps getting harder.

I wish to be more conscious of the beauty around me in the New Year. Beauty in all things...and knowing that what will be will be, yet it will be OK.

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Art work courtesy of: http://flina.deviantart.com/

where the rubber meets the road in parenting

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Tue, 25 Dec 2012 01:37:00 +0000

"Why do you ALWAYS do things for me!" I was taken aback, when my 9 year old son said this to me. He was making it very clear that I was overstepping and that he was capable of more... if I would allow him. These words, shouted out in frustration, have stayed with me. Somehow, without knowing it, I have become the Queen Mother of Overdo to two children who clearly still need me, but perhaps more than that they need me to let go.

A friend told me recently that some of the best advice she's gotten as a mother is to allow her children to fail - that children learn from failure, and grow into full human beings because of it. I know she is right. I feel it in my bones. But, knowing it, and having the courage to gift your children with reasonable freedoms...that is where the rubber meets the road in parenting.

I pride myself on being a good mother, yet perhaps I've overlooked one of the most important things of all...letting my children have their own life experiences without me.

I haven't been one for New Year's Resolutions, but this year I'm going to hold myself more accountable, shake things up. I've set my sights on that rock that sits uncomfortably high over the river. I won't spend a lot of time looking down, will take a deep breath, and with a leap of faith will jump. The water might be cold, but I'll either get used to it, or climb out, sit back with my face towards the sun, and know that I will be the better for it...and so will they.

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Painting/Image courtesy of: voraciousinklings.blogspot.com

What a difference a year makes...

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Thu, 06 Sep 2012 05:56:00 +0000

1st Day of School - September 2011

1st Day of School ...September 2012

Clearing of the mind...

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Fri, 31 Aug 2012 02:16:00 +0000

There is something incredibly uplifting about letting go of stuff, rearranging furniture, and creating something new within your own home. I don't know why that always surprises me, but it does. And then I wonder why I've waited so long to take on these projects. It's been a good week of small accomplishments. Sometimes that's all it takes for the world to look a little different.

The clearing of clutter often reflects the clearing that I need, to move forward, when I'm feeling stuck. The physical act of moving parts loosens the barriers within my mind. I feel lighter and more able to step up to meet the next challenge. Taking the time for reflection is vital.

I wish to be more conscious and present in the world, especially with my husband and children. I am determined to make some changes now...before another year goes by. I believe it's going to be a good school year for my children, and a good year for all of us. I see it and it will be...

Now, I'm going to go pour myself a whiskey, put my legs up and watch my children play outside as one more summer night softly goes dark...

Hot stuff

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Fri, 24 Aug 2012 21:26:00 +0000

JCK is looking forward to the cooler weather ahead. Between the hot flashes within her, and these last August days, she is feeling a bit overcooked. In addition, the Motherscribe household is fraught with temperature accelerations of the human kind, and JCK is not interested in playing referee.

To break up the long evenings, they occasionally go out for yummy frozen treats. Recently, while the Motherscribe family was sitting outside, at a frozen yogurt establishment, a couple of fire trucks pulled up. One of the firemen came over and passed out Firefighter sticker badges to BOY & GIRL. On the way out, BOY couldn't resist a parting word...

BOY: Bye! Don't worry, I'll give you guys a break.

FIRE FIGHTERS: Oh, yeah??

BOY: I won't play with matches.

Everyone enjoys seeing handsome Firefighters laugh hysterically, don't they?

GIRL, meanwhile, has been contemplating important upcoming events - like...Halloween...

GIRL: I can't decide WHAT I am going to be for Halloween!

JCK: Oh, there's plenty of time.

GIRL: It's between an Angel and the Devil,

Pause....

GIRL: I think I'm going to be the Devil!

Yes! JCK is looking forward to fall. Although saying goodbye to Summer is always bittersweet...

the end of summer

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Tue, 21 Aug 2012 05:14:00 +0000

The last weeks of August are winding down. There is a part of me ready for the shift into fall, and another clinging to these hazy, sweet summer days. Once again my children have grown into bigger people - limbs, strong and lean, browned by the sun.

My son's hair is a messy spill of golden hay, and freckles dance across my daughter's nose, and up her forehead like scattered stars.

Our familial, daily scent of sunblock will give way to the lure of freshly sharpened pencils, and the promise of unmarked notebooks yet to be opened. The fall is both a fresh start and a letting go of the old layers that bind us, holding us back. It is an opportunity to move forward in new ways.

Ready or not...it is here...the end of summer...

Just call me...Bob

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Tue, 14 Aug 2012 20:03:00 +0000

JCK and her husband are continually trying new methods of communication with their children. JCK feels strongly that setting up a good foundation for sharing is important, as well as each person being able to set up their own boundaries for alone time - which JCK feels is sacred.

GIRL is all over this. She shares openly about her day, is very literal, and loves to go into her room, lock the door and write in her journal. BOY, on the other hand, believes in the grand embellishment! There is no simple story of what has occurred in his life. He isn't much for alone time, unless he is reading...and then, getting his attention to attend to chores or come to the dinner table is almost impossible.

JCK decided to try a different strategy yesterday...

JCK: BOY, can you come into the kitchen please? I'd like to talk to you about something?

Pause.....

JCK: BOY!!! Please come into the kitchen!!

PAUSE...

In which JCK goes into the living room and taps on BOY's shoulder.

BOY (slowly taking nose out of book): Yes, mom?

JCK: BOY, I would like your help with something. I am having trouble getting your attention. Do you have any ideas of how I could do that?

BOY: Sure. Just call me "Bob."

Apparently BOY has renamed himself...

Ode to young parents

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Sun, 12 Aug 2012 20:47:00 +0000

Over the last couple of years, JCK has started dropping off her children at birthday parties. They do well, and enjoy their experience independent of their parents. If asked, BOY has little comment on what has transpired - other than commenting on what delectable goodies were served. GIRL, on the other hand, loves to wax forth on every detail of the event.

GIRL: Can I tell you about the party?!!! Well...They had a huge back yard and we started out with a water balloon scavenger hunt. Then we had a water balloon toss, and I threw it to ... and then...and ....we won! Then we...

JCK: That sounds like fun! Did many parents stay?

GIRL: Yes. I was the only one without my parents.

JCK: ....Did you want me to stay?

GIRL: No, I was fine!

JCK: Who was there?

GIRL: Abigail and Aster and ....

JCK: Oh, I'm sorry I missed Aster. I 'm not sure who she is. Maybe I know her parents?

GIRL: She has a nice young mom and a young dad.

JCK: A nice young Mom?

GIRL: Well...you know...

Ay-yi-YI....JCK does know.

in-between breaths, and doubts

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Wed, 01 Aug 2012 06:20:00 +0000

Hot feet finding solace on the cool tile floor. Chilled glasses of iced tea with mint. Stretching out on the bed in front of the air conditioner. Loose, flowing skirts that float over sun kissed skin. It is summer. How quickly the weeks pass... mimicking the fast growing limbs of my children.

Days filled with work, camp, beach trips, and family improvement projects. The four of us clustered together on the couch watching the Summer Olympics - my 7 and 8 year old engaged in patriotic spirit. All sit in awe of the athletic prowess and magnificence moving across our television screen.

Those are the easy times.

It is the raw, full, in-your-face moments of parenting that challenge me. My "inside voice" falls on deaf ears, and I wonder which time it will be when I repeat myself, yet again...and again, FOR THE FINAL WARNING that will be the one leading to madness. There is too much screaming by everyone. All culpable. Some capable of better. Some still learning.

Do the neighbors have ear plugs? Or, should we open the front door and take a bow. This is what goes through my mind in-between breaths, and doubts.

I need a few solo moments in a hammock with a cool breeze...and the sound of my own heartbeat -before I am tumbled into the grass once again, by the raucous, undeniable blessings that are my children.

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Tue, 26 Jun 2012 20:51:00 +0000

We left on vacation almost a week ago. I was envisioning beach fun under the sun, turquoise waters, diving back into writing and long naps. Instead Tropical Storm Debbie landed and wrapped us up in her vise of wild winds, stormy seas and torrential rain. We are on the other side of it now, but without power.

The storm has passed . It looks like we won't have power for several more days. We've been shelling on the beach, cooking and eating dinner by candlelight, and swimming in an ocean of crashing waves . Today they let us over the bridge, and we journeyed over to the mainland to charge our phones and get internet service.

Vacationing at the beach, seeing, feeling and breathing in the ocean always realigns my mind and body. It's been challenging for me to let go of my vacation vision, but being forced to really slow down, that piece has been all good...

No one else can do it for her. It is hers. She owns it.

noreply@blogger.com (JCK) — Thu, 31 May 2012 21:19:00 +0000

She has many selves within her. Some constant, some not. Her writer self has been in a dormant stage, cocooning away on quick snatches of reading escapades - fit into a world so busy that she's not sure sometimes if she can keep moving forward. But, she does... These last weeks of wrapping up another school year for her children are a juggle fest of working full-time, multiple school events, baseball play-offs, and volunteering. Life is full.

At first she raged inwardly at the injustice of not having enough time to write. Then she stewed and wept. Now? She's feeling justified in her stalemate. She can't be forced out of her hole, having reached a certain comfort level of vague indifference. No... she will have to be both inveigler and resolute victor...finding the rhythms again. Embracing her saucy and her veracity. No one else can do it for her. It is hers. She owns it.

Her writer self is here, lying in wait. Just under the surface. Everyone has a calling. She, alone, has to realize that her calling has validity and value, because she can't live without it...