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Scatter-rama
It has been a bit difficult writing here lately, and I wish I could say this is due to massive productivity on my part or that I've been using my vast amounts of surplus energy to embark upon stunning entrepreneurial schemes.
What is more the case is that I've been snagged in that web of physical obstacles that is probably inevitable after a move (and I promise to try to stop carping about this soon). The other day, for instance, I had to write a letter. Oh, but the printer wasn't hooked up. "No matter," I thought to myself. "This isn't a formal bit of business. I can send a hand written note." Except that I couldn't find any stationery. Or envelopes. Or stamps. And pretty much everything has gone that way. I'm a little shocked I manage to get dressed every day.
This is why I envy the children who are able to go about their rather complicated business almost undisrupted. Changes of venue don't matter particularly. Sebastian has learned to crash his head into things just as well here as he would have done anywhere else, and his development didn't stall because of the move. He actually appears to have become much more jolly. Perhaps it is funny to watch his mother run around like the proverbial headless chicken. Felix seems to be more than anything quite entertained by the change in scenery. I am actually much more concerned about how he will handle his upcoming birthday party since he and I share a general inability to relax at bashes. He clings until someone offers him a job. (It was such a relief at the last party that he was given a plaster starfish to paint.) And given my druthers... oh never mind. I won't reveal my angst-avoidance techniques here. You aren't missing out on any great tips, so don't think I'm making leading statements and then withholding.
posted by Elise at 4:58 PM
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At Last
It has taken a while, but Felix has finally taught his brother how to play fetch. If only I could ensure that this can be a tear-free enterprise.
posted by Elise at 5:38 AM
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Interesting or Excrutiating?
Emily Bazelon write in Slate today about how forcing one's kids to apologize ("Say you're sorry!") might not be the best parenting technique. What she has to say is not uninteresting but I wonder if the whole notion that one must set a policy for something (don't force apologies, don't offer empty praise, don't offer processed food) isn't a little exhausting and ridiculous.
The theory is that children's apologies under the gun, so to speak, are empty and incomprehensible (to the child - possibly to others as well) whereas if a child learns to recognize the feelings and reactions his or her behavior has on others, then more positive apologies can be produced.
I buy that in a way, but really, I'm also all for rote behavior. I don't think a kid needs to understand exactly why it is good to say "please" or "thank you" early in the game but I make Felix speak those words constantly because they should be second nature. They should also be said with grace but I don't think it's crazy to force that issue.
As for the insincere "sorry"-- at some point sincerity will kick in, just as a sense of irony will, with any luck, and too many people I encounter are afraid to accept that they did something wrong enough to offer up an insincere apology, so again, if "sorry" can somehow be made less than scary, I don't see what's so terrible about pushing for it a little.
posted by Elise at 12:24 PM
2 Comments
Torn
In an effort to make good on one resolution (no, no, my sourpuss rating remains as high as ever), I made it to the gym where I had one of those hours in which one is pulled in various directions.
Also at the gym was a teenager, a young teenager, not yet fifteen, so very very young, who is there because her mother wants her to be there. That should say it all. She and I know each other vaguely since we are there at the same time and share an instructor who apparently teased her lightly about the fact that I was pretty good at standing on one foot for a long time with weights in my hands. She replied that I should be good at it because I didn't have much else to do, sitting around all day watching a couple of kids.
Well.
Well, I wasn't there for the comment but was a bit taken aback. I often think it is an enormous relief that I do work because I would be completely fried if I didn't break from the domestic sublime to work. Really. (The fact that I often have to do this work early in the morning or late at night aside...)
But there is no arguing with a young teenager anyway and if I am going to stoop to her level I'll just keep in mind the fact that I can stand on one foot with weights in my hands for a lot longer than she can.
On the other side of things, as I was sweatily ambling out of the place, another instructor pointed out that I didn't have to wear my maternity t-shirt any longer. She is right, of course. I am no longer pregnant and it has been many months now since I have needed to wear it and yet I never even though about putting that particular bit of knocked-up garb aside.
And how ridiculous is it to be indignant about a teenager saying what a lazy business it is being a mother while refusing to move on past the maternity t-shirts?
Very.
posted by Elise at 11:46 AM
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Plastics
So yes I'm still reading the Mitford sisters' correspondence. I'm not usually so slow but time has been short. Anyway, it was curious to find in a letter written in 1984 by Diana (b. 1910) on the subject that is so dear to so many: young children's hideous accessories. (She is writing about the visit of a grandchild).
"I loved having the baby, he is so incredibly sweet now. The fly in the ointment is his keeper... The dreaded plastic toys are simply everywhere-- drawing room, both sitting-rooms, porch, garden, even orchard. His & her shoes here & there. Pram of course (hideous). Cushions awry. The whole place a slum. One daren't look in her room... awash with clothes & unmade bed. Bathroom with plastic toys to the ceiling. It's just bad luck, people of her generation are born untidy. His books are so terrible with pictures of squinting moronic children supposed (probably) to be amusing." (from The Mitfords: Letters Between Six Sisters, page 698)
I keep meeting people who are always complaining about the toys, even the ones that don't make horrible noises or have irritating branding elements all over them.
(Oh and now I have to complain about branding for a moment. Felix and I had a really nice lunch with his grandmother this week that turned into a splitting headache for me when an enormous tantrum erupted because he refused to wear a Spiderman diaper-- purchased once in desperation-- and only wanted to wear one with Dora figures on it and the kicker is that he is utterly unfamiliar with Spiderman or Dora or just about any cartoon characters. I don't think I would have minded the screaming or the kicking or the bruises the next morning if he were pounding me because his outrage had actually been informed by something like a familiarity with the cartoons in question.)
But I don't mind toys, really (except for the racket and the branded stuff that sparks fights for no reason). I love the idea of a pile of potential amusement. I wish I lived surrounded by so much inspiration and charm.
Reading this letter, though, I wonder if I would have felt differently if I read this letter three years ago. After all, Diana, who wrote this note at 74 (an age when one really might reasonably find the clutter insipid), was in prison during the early childhoods of most of her children. She might not have known how entertaining and reliving it is to have a kid entertain himself for a while.
posted by Elise at 7:13 PM
2 Comments
Party Party Party Party!
So goes the joyful cry of Elephant and Piggie in Mo Willems's I Am Invited to a Party.
I only wish I were overcome by the same liveliness as I plan one (possibly, POSSIBLY two) parties for next month. I can't believe I have friends who relish hosting events. I can't believe I have friends who host parties professionally.
Felix's birthday looms and while I was more than willing to take my standard do-as-little-as-possible approach (invite a handful of relatives over, let him choose what color frosting will adorn his cupcakes), several people have pointed out that Felix is awake this year. This is the year he asked why we didn't have a Christmas tree (many reasons, though the one that bounces to mind first has to do with the terrier and my fear he will either eat or, forgive my delicacy, lift his leg on it-- though I have been accused of not giving him enough credit for self control). The feeling was that he would notice the absence of a birthday party.
So what's my problem?
Well, Felix isn't so good at parties, a quality he shares with me, according to my mother.
I am also afraid no one will show up because we live far away from a large percentage of the potential guests.
I am afraid he will find my efforts disappointing.
I am a bit concerned that some of the party choices (venue for instance) will be unpopular with Felix's acquaintance. (I am already aware of one kid who quite adamantly does not care for the place, but I'm not sure I go for his reasoning and since he is under six, I don't think I have to.)
You may notice some similarity between my birthday party angst and my holiday greeting card nerves. I sure do. Well, it is happening now and we'll see how it goes.
Interestingly enough, I am struggling with this on another front. I have to decide if I am going to throw a party for something that I worked quite hard on.
It is just a little easier to get behind the bash for the three-year-old. Much less embarrassing and one wouldn't have to figure out what to wear and wish one's hair had finally grown back sufficiently to have it look all right. Perhaps a cocktail hat would solve that.
posted by Elise at 12:49 PM
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Home Is Where They Deliver
It's been a rough week for the older set around here. The terrier and I are particularly put out and don't know what to do with ourselves.
But thanks to a delightful service that a friend recommended, there tasty food can now be made manifest in my house, since greater excavation is necessary to unearth many cooking implements (and I'm not the greatest cook in the first place, especially when harried).
And, as the friend who recommended this service to me pointed out, it is a nice bonus that you can get what you want without having to talk to anyone.
posted by Elise at 5:47 AM
1 Comments
New Year New View
Happy New Year, everyone, and here's hoping you didn't ring things in as I did, squinting at the correspondence of the Mitford Sisters under a blanket because the light might wake up the baby.
My resolution (apart from the goes-without-saying ones: weight loss/improved vocabulary/get more work done) is to be more graceful about change. Or at least less bummed out.
I'm writing this perched on the edge of a high chair while my children puddle around me. They are having quite the time of it here in our new digs and all of my worried about transitions and my earnest talks with Felix's teachers either paid off or turned out to be unnecessary. He's having a blast. His brother doesn't seem to mind much, but isn't sleeping so well.
I on the other hand am a different story but either time or New Year's Resolve will improve that.
Cheers and here's to a little more glamour in the new year.
posted by Elise at 5:14 AM
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