Rock To Wind A String Around

So yesterday, I promised some news.

To help prolong the big buildup, I’ve added pictures for your enjoyment.

This is my first reaction to the decision we needed to make…

(not me, but an actor representing me)

For awhile, I dealt with the upcoming decision like this…

even knowing that Albert felt like this:

so, I did a little more of this:

and I came to a decision.

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Elliott  will attend the Graham Expeditionary Middle School next fall.

He wants you all to know that this is how he feels about it:

I think I’ll feel that way soon too.

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Wow.   School.   Wow…

crying santas

phone calls

taps

deli trays

sleep

car repairs

thank you notes

furniture shopping

appointments

jigsaw puzzles

cousins

repeating a dozen times a day, “his date of death is May 8, 2010″

a very empty recliner

beautiful flowers

Shrek

phone calls

donating clothing

polishing his shoes

working to fill the silence.

I won’t lie, the last few weeks have been miserable.  When we aren’t making arrangements or canceling credit cards or writing thank yous, we’re cobbling together my mother’s financial future, and trying to fill the void with games and puzzles and beach outings and furniture shopping, but we’re all still reeling…

I’ll be in Florida for a few more weeks, my mom just isn’t ready to face a quiet house, and Maude love him, Elliott does his very best to prevent that.  We’ll stay with my mom a little longer and then she’ll come stay with us for awhile.  This new relationship with my mom reminds me a great deal of attachment parenting.  All of the things I did to foster attachment weren’t meant to be long term.  We coslept and used a sling and kept our little people close so that they would feel secure and comfortable with autonomy.  I think my mom chafes at her own need to stay close to others right now, but I know she won’t feel this way forever.  In the meantime, I am happy to be close, happy to provide what she needs, knowing that she’ll feel more comfortably independent when she’s ready.

I want to thank each one of you for the thoughts and prayers and emails and calls and cards.  Your kindness soothes the heartsore;  you have no idea the gratitude I feel for each of you.

I’ll be back soon–I feel so raw, it’s hard to write, but soon I’ll be able to add funny anecdotes, and an umpteenth reminder to support EOR.   Be prepared!

Another drop off the edge of the world for me, apparently.  It wasn’t intended, life and all of its accessories seems to have overtaken me.

Tomorrow, Albert & I will celebrate our 15th anniversary by flying to Portland for EOR’s Lights of Hope event.  I love the idea of a weekend away with my one and only, can’t wait to see west coast members of the board, and of course, the event itself will be incredible, as well as busy  but getting ready for some time away from home is always a challenge.

My mom, always generous with her time, has always been the one to stay with the tots.  She was scheduled for this trip too, but my poor dad is in the hospital dealing with some complications of a surgery he had more than 2 weeks ago.  He’s going to be fine, but his need for my mother’s attention definitely trumped mine.  Lucky for us,  Astrid Meklit’s besties have dropped everything to make sure we can go.  THE Joel and Amy are on deck from the time we leave on Thursday until Friday morning and super sitter Angela will take over after that (although Team AJ will return on Saturday evening to spell Angela should she need to drink heavily take a few hours away).

The kids will be fine, the sitters will be, Albert and I will be fine but there’s a lot to prepare. Real life continues with classes and meeting and appointments and lots of EOR duties while I attempt to make everything user-friendly who don’t usually live in my house.

Updating will be light while I am away, but hey, at this point you are used to it.  Off to iron choir clothes (because of course we’re missing Elliott’s spring concert this weekend–yay, good parenting!) find zoo cards, and make salsa.  Ole’ and Happy Day before my anniversary everyone!

30 03 2009

A migraine yesterday prevented me from saying anything the least bit intelligent about gotcha days or fabulous girls who make every day a miracle.  I’m reprinting last year’s ‘Gotcha Day” post for the three people who haven’t seen it before.

3 years ago today, I was winging my way to Ethiopia–the 9 weeks between referral and flight were a blur of frenetic activity–we had a weekend getaway, celebrated a boy’s 8th birthday, made an offer on a house in Cowtown,  rescinded the offer, flew to SF for a week to find a house, packed, packed, packed,  engaged movers, lived in a hotel,  moved into our east bay house, unpacked, unpacked, unpacked, and then 7 days later, began the  process of packing, packing, packing for Ethiopia.  As excited as I was to meet my sweet baby, I barely had time to consider her existence–until I got on the plane.   The 20 or so in air hours were spent crafting the life we’d spend together.  I planned cosleeping and birthday parties, and Halloween costumes, and bubbles, and reading and library trips and fireworks and a thousand other special moments until I was so overwhelmed by joy that I burst into tears the minute the plane touched the ground.

And, I have to say that I got it wrong.  Every idea I had of the delight that would follow was a mere shadow of my reality.  The glory of raising Astrid Meklit  surpasses my every fantasy–every day is filled with hair clips, and sidewalk angels (the lesser-known cousin of the ever-popular snow angel), and the AM version of Boom Boom POW!,  reading, and library trips, and Enkutatash planning, and parades, and a commitment to EOR, and Halloween costumes, and dog underpants, and squirrel feeding, and popsicles, and a million other incredible pieces that make up our life together.

This isn’t to paint a rosier picture than reality presents–AM wears her emotions on her sleeve, so as quick as she is to love, she’s moved to tears equally quickly, she swallows batteries, takes off her car seat, has so many food allergies that make her difficult to feed,  was incredibly clingy with me, only me for the longest time, and oh yeah, she won’t nap in the car.

But I mention all of this to remind everyone waiting just what you’re waiting for, because as amazing as I thought my life with my daughter would be, it’s just that much more. More than I ever imagined, more than I ever hoped for.  LIfe with my girl is my dream multiplied by 47–everything I asked for, and more.

Thank you, darling daughter, for sharing your joie de vivre.

When a dad spends an evening alone with the tots, and decides to bathe the girl with stinky toes, he will decide to wash her hair.  After, he will remember that his wife moisturizes all parts of the girl–skin and hair, so he will dutifully comb plenty of leave-in conditioner through her tresses.  Then the dad will look at the clock, spy the late hour, and choose to put the girl to bed with wet, unfettered locks.

This will be the wife’s wake-up call:

Wanna guess how long it took to tame it?

And now I’m back from outerspace and much like I refuse to attend a parade without a 2 year old Astrid Meklit in tow, I now refuse to drive cross-country with a 3 year old Astrid Meklit in tow.  She’s like another person, and not in a pleasant way.  Believe it or not, when faced with such insufferable behavior, my behavior becomes insufferable as well.  Anyone traveling on the route between DC and Cowtown today probably heard the wrath–no MOTY award for me after today’s performance, I assure you…

But–tomorrow begins a new month (rabbit, rabbit, rabbit) and a new season.  NaBloPoMo is over, advent begins.  The turkey goes back in the box, and the snowflakes will adorn the windows.  Elliott helped me wrap the best 25 holiday books for Astrid and the basket of cheer will greet her in the morning (along with Trader Joe’s chocolate delight, because who doesn’t need a bit of sweet in the am?) and we can begin anew, with a mama who speaks softly, loves gently, and remembers the magic of three is riddled with big emotion and great passion.

Tomorrow, a little something sweet from mama as well.