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The Tail End
Walking the terrier just now I had a maudlin episode where for an instant one of those "this is one of the last times that I will..." thoughts floated into my mind. I squashed it, though, and now I'm practically normal. The move has commenced and I couldn't interrupt it even if I really wanted to. At this moment, I only sort of wanted to.
Many precautions have been taken to ensure that the Felix won't be too, too horrified by the this, the first of a short series of moves that will happen this year. Surprise treats have been planned, teachers warned, gentle introductions to the (first) new space made... all of that. But his parents are a bit frayed.
And in at least one respect, the children have been completely spared the utter embarrassment that comes with moving. If I could do it all myself so that someone didn't have to see my weird (but not Collyer-esque) hoarding tendencies, my odd fashion mistakes, the piles and piles of "important" texts that I use or feel I will use for work... and all of this will be witnessed by someone. At the moment I wish I could channel some of my children's shamelessness because soon I won't be able to look these poor moving people in the eye.
Oh dear. Someone just made a sound in the next room that sounded something like shock. I am blushing up to my ears.
I must go.
posted by Elise at 11:31 AM
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Happy, Merry, All of That
Spirits may not be soaring right now, due primarily to one's unwillingness to really wrestle with the problems of real life (all of the possible dwellings spent the weekend presenting various challenges so that by the time they all got beaten into submission on Boxing Day, one almost forgot that there is the whole move to deal with).
Still, I'm not immune to the charms of the season, so here, with my best wishes for the new year, is an image from a slightly unconventional sight to see here in Manhattan.
Fans of the Christopher Reeve Superman movies may recognize this globe. On our holiday excursion we spent some time contemplating Tibet.
posted by Elise at 3:06 PM
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Nerves
One hears quite a bit about the sorry side-effects of the season on psyches. Of course there's the usual family dynamic angst and travel horror and woe. Then, corporate holiday parties can occasionally trigger psychotic episodes after which some hapless folks spend New Year's Eve at Bellevue.
I don't usually have these problems, since I never have to travel for any holiday and am relatively safe from public psychiatric collapse. This year, though, seasonal tension seems quite unremarkable because in under a week, my whole household is moving, and we don't know if we have permission to actually show up on our new doorstep. This is a long and not particularly interesting story (especially not by the standards set by New York City real estate sagas), it seems to be mostly a problem of paperwork and timing since most people would rather do things other than paperwork in the final days of a year.
So the landscape of the household sees me feeling sad and nostalgic and wondering if moving was wise (though practically I know it has to be). My husband is impatient and can't wait to get the Hell out of here so that we can go somewhere, anywhere, he doesn't care he's just sick of dealing with it. And Felix, to whom the basics have been explained takes advantage of any free moment to explain our numerous resting spots to anyone who will listen.
It is no surprise at all to me that I became briefly hypnotized by a giant chart for Bach Flower Essences in a health food store window this afternoon (as I walked by with what felt like 4 pounds of chocolate-- for presents, really). Their Rescue Remedy product actually seemed to help me, and the terrier (the veterinarian recommended it for both of us) in the wake of the events of 9/11/2001. But I stopped myself before I bought a whole nursery's worth of flower essences to cure anxiety, loneliness, body dysmorphia, spitefullness, you name it.
It should be an interesting week, and it would be even if Christmas weren't involved.
posted by Elise at 2:20 PM
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Secret Ingredient
Fifteen minutes ago, I questioned the wisdom of it, but now I'm quite pleased I went ahead, pulled out the ingredients and mixed up a gingerbread loaf. It's in the oven now.
The hesitation, I suppose, came from the insipid call of work I haven't done and probably from some underlying sadness and anger about moving. This is probably the last loaf I make in this house. I don't know when it will happen, but in two weeks my windows will be showing me a different view.
If you have to make a home made dessert, let me recommend this one: easy to make, tasty, makes the house smell good... It isn't much in the looks department, though whipped cream would probably help this. I don't bother. I love my recipe because it is the only "family" recipe I have (not coming from a family much inclined toward baking or written recipes). It showed up in my life through my mother who got it from my friend's mother. This gingerbread has possibly been in my life since I was Felix's age. In fact, my friend also makes this loaf from time to time as well, and she has some very good serving suggestions that I can't remember.
I didn't think about gingerbread was an obsession, but I do have an annual excursion into gingerbread house building-- and this year's incarnation is winking at me garishly on the other side of my computer (I force other people to do the decorating)-- but it too is part of my fascination with gingerbread. Gingerbread has given me a social life. This house is the pretext for the first party I ever really came up with on my own (and which I now host annually). You can see here a view of the very welcoming front of the house. Felix has been bragging non-stop about his input on the tree and the bear, but his little fingers are constantly trying to prod and, by extension, destroy this creation.
Forgive this tumble headlong into nostalgia and food. This is what happens when one moves during the holidays.
I know I haven't posted the recipe here but I will share with you the ingredient I add that isn't found in the recipe my mother inherited. I suspect it would have the same effect on any gingerbread loaf you set your mind to baking. Here it is:
A few grinds of black pepper.
posted by Elise at 4:56 PM
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The First of Many
So I did something for the first time yesterday. I had a parent/teacher conference at Felix's school and it seems a shame to start this tradition in preschool because they are so completely encouraging and happy that all future parent/teacher conferences can't be nearly so happy.
I assume part of the genius of being a preschool teacher is having the talent to let each parent know how wonderful his or her particular child is and seem completely sincere and honest about it. I tried very hard to maintain my cynical skepticism (or skeptical cynicism-- whichever is most appropriate), but I got utterly swept up in hearing about these little details that Felix keeps to himself.
Oh, so he loved meeting a hermit crab, did he? News to me. And which kids does he play with? Really? News to me. He claims to only recall the name of one other child unless various forms of trickery are employed.
It doesn't matter, of course, that he keeps school private, but as I was letting Sebastian rip my hair out to him tremendous pleasure yesterday afternoon, I thought hard about how I know everything about Sebastian's days and moods and tastes, but that Felix has increasing areas of mystery.
Of course this happens, and has to happen, and even though it does feel unsettlingly sudden, that conference was as relaxing as a massage (and didn't make me self-conscious as "body work" tends to do).
And here's a small holiday present idea for any of you out there who have public transit-obsessed children (though I say this knowing that if your kids are TRULY transit-obsessed you will already know about this): a company called Munipals has made some quite charming NYC subway cars that fit on most popular (the Brio and ersatz Brio, certainly) wooden train tracks. They come in "A" "F" "1" "4" and "7" cars, so Felix won't be able to replicate his ride to school, but he'll just have to figure out new places to visit when his parents select some cars for him.
posted by Elise at 12:35 PM
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The Mood Strikes
... and I can't say it is really one of high spirits and incessant good will. I am looking at myself (though I can hardly bear to-- I wish my hair would just hurry up and grow back so I can do something with it) and wondering how it was that I managed to get everything done last year, because this year, I'm feeling not unlike the way I did as an undergraduate facing a week of unstudied-for exams.
- Do I have a moving date? No.
- Have I completed holiday shopping? No.
- Have I dealt with the: Change of address/phone number/electric bill/other important stuff? Nope. (Though a moving date would probably help that.)
- Have I caught up on work? (Oh, that's hilarious.)
So what have I been doing with my time? I wish I could tell you. The mists of time are hanging super thick these days and I can barely remember two days ago.
I do find, though, that I have been fussing about minute things. I am wondering, for instance, how to preserve Felix's art work.
A friend of mine had a brilliant idea for doing this. It is so brilliant that I won't describe it here, in case it is something in the works, but I will say that I am more than open to any and all ideas if you have any. I signed Felix up for a class at an unexpectedly rigorous program and the things he has been bringing home are really quite nice to have around. Nice enough that I think I would feel sort of crappy if I threw them out. Unfortunately, they often have three-dimensional elements that add to the Preservationist's challenges. Advice anyone?
And don't even suggest that I look for distraction and simple pleasures in the land of contemporary cinema. I keep seeing the previews for Juno, that perky sassy movie about the 16 year-old knocked up girl who is wiser than her years and her search for acceptable adoptive parents. First of all, I am suddenly sick of pregnant comedy. Second of all, I don't care if she is sixteen, that girl seems much too comfortable in her third trimester.
posted by Elise at 1:06 PM
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The Card
Towards the end of last month I had to call my husband into service. After years of dodging it, the holiday card became a necessity. Everyone from Felix's school seemed to be doing them and while I wouldn't jump off a bridge just because everyone from Felix's school did, I heard that the family cards would all be posted somewhere and I just couldn't bear the thought of him possibly looking for himself in a wall of pictures and turning up nothing. Maybe he wouldn't do this. Maybe he wouldn't care. Maybe the Wall of Cards is apocryphal.
The reasons don't matter, I shamed myself into putting one together. If nothing else, giving myself another time-sensitive task right around the time I was called upon to find some temporary housing and schedule a move (among other things) was just the ticket to distraction (as in "it is driving me to distraction"). There were all sorts of design challenges since it was impossible to get all three of my photo subjects (two boys and a terrier) in the frame at the same time, let alone smiling or at least not looking homicidal. Happily, it is amazing what sorts of classy designs are available at online printers. You can plug in all sorts of things and they'll create something quite presentable.
The holiday card isn't like me. I do it so awkwardly. We hardly printed any up since the primary pretext was this school thing.
And while I don't mind it, and I'm happy I actually accomplished this task (since it was kind of touch and go), it seems quite odd and unnatural and I find myself apologizing for it, which is ridiculous since it is the most normal thing to do. Some people even think about it ahead of time.
Anyway, I suppose this card has that old "fake it 'till you make it" quality, like so many other aspects of the season. Perhaps next year it will feel a little more natural. Perhaps next year I'll get a picture of everyone actually making a sort of eye contact.
posted by Elise at 6:54 PM
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(Un)Settled
Everyone loves to talk about real estate in all of its forms. In New York, it is a conversational gambit as reliable as the weather and much safer than chatting about religion or politics and, as a close friend of mine put it: "No matter how big or small your apartment is, you always want one more room."
I suppose that is true because we decided to move a couple of years ago and the pressure has only gotten greater since then. Now I find I do a lot of work in the dark, typing with a sleeping Sebastian behind me. Sometimes I hide out in the bathroom if Felix is being especially clingy.
So, you ask, why don't we do something about this? We have, actually. Or maybe I should say: "we are doing something but nothing is happening." We are in the process of waiting for our next abode to be ready to admit us and as the days tick by the issues that come with moving mount. In the middle of last week, we learned we had to find some sort of temporary housing. Panic ensued. Various solutions have been tried and rejected. (We need to find a place for a couple of months but it is really unclear how long we'll be living in the in-between, and that is just part of the problem.)
The first time we were supposed to move I was pregnant and in a panic about work and child care. The second time we were supposed to move I was in the hospital having just had a baby. The third time we were supposed to move, Felix was just starting school. Each of these moments I was actually happy not to have to move. But now we can't stay in our house any longer and this is quite tricky, what with the holidays all upon us and all. Nothing brings on the cheer like moving.
Of course there is also the problem of having a child who is savvy enough to know what is going on. After a visit to one possible place (rejected) Felix turned quite freakish. Another solution has presented itself and my husband asked if I wanted to try it out on the children and I have to admit, I nixed that plan. I can't give the kid that much power. If he said "no" (and he absolutely would) what would we do, start looking again? Or would we just ignore him and make him feel crappy because we didn't listen to him? As it is, I talked to his teachers, came up with a semi-plan that will at least make me feel that I am doing something instead of nothing, and beyond that, I am hoping for the best.
But after being scolded by a real estate agent (for no good reason), crying on the telephonic shoulder of another (who deserves a prize), and amused by a third, I feel I have taken a strong sip of this heady industry and am ready to retreat from it.
I have a sense of what I can to do improve things for Felix (Sebastian isn't in a position to care too much yet, which is excellent, and I am hoping that the terrier will be accommodating), but I don't know how to stabilize the situation for myself. Due to sleep training issues my drink of choice lately has been coffee.
But I'll take any other tips about how to prepare a child for a move you have on hand.
posted by Elise at 11:40 AM
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