Support recommended, not required

 

I have this cool new AP for my IPhone, to turn everything into an illustration.  

I'm sure I will drive everyone crazy with it long before I get tired of it myself. 

It has been in intensely emotionally draining week.  

The kind of week when I feel like I can't bear to hear one more person's complaints or needs, yet I don't really have a choice. 

Listening seems to be both my work and my job.

Someone told me "I feel SO UNSUPPORTED", which was possibly the most hurtful thing anyone could have said to me, as I feel like my life has been almost completely devoted to supporting people, in that corny new agey sort of way, that requires so much emotional energy. 

There is no measure for support though, so I can't really prove that I was trying hard.  

I can't stand up next to my supportometer and say "see, I am clearly a level 10, two steps above what is required of me."

I came home and cried, and cuddled the new dog, and ate some melted cheese with spoon.  I didn't defend my support effort very vigorously. 

I read a little kerfuffle about a artistic credit dispute, that a friend found herself in.  

One of those byproducts of having something really great happen to you.  

It reminded me of the time either 1983 or maybe 1984 that an artist approached me in a cafe and asked if he could paint my portrait.  

I was used to that sort of line, but it turned out that this was a real painter that specialized in those really cheesy paintings of women's faces that were so popular in the 80's and so I said "sure" and posed for photos, from which he would make this series of portraits.    

There was nothing risque or off color about it at all.  

He painted several large pieces, two really lovely paintings of my face stand out in my memory.  

One hung above the piano at the Metro on Broadway cafe.  I was terribly pleased about the paintings, but I was unpaid.  

When my mother and my then stepfather found out they were furious that I had not been paid.  

I could not have cared less. 

I remember Jack saying "don't you want money? Don't you want a fur coat?"

I did not want a fur coat. What a stupid and foolish question.

I wanted my picture to hang in that cafe.

They made an enormous fuss and the painting came down, from the gallery and from the cafe, and the artist was livid with me. 

He was an asshole of course, and should not have been dealing with a young teenageer with out parental consent.  

He should not have been angry at me.  

It was not my fault. 

It all passed and my life went right back to being as uneventful as always, until 1987 when I went to some sort of event with my mother and it turned out that the niece of one of my mother's friends was dating the painter, all sorts of awkwardness ensued and I felt terrible.

In retrospect I wonder why I felt terrible.  I was a kid.  I was not the one that got angry, or asked for money.  I was not the adult painter that painted a portrait of a child without permission of her parents, but I was the one that left the event early feeling bad. 

So I suppose I said all of that to say this.  I feel compassion when other people are dumped on because something they did or said or wrote, unintentionally impacts other people, and I feel really hurt when other people don't value my efforts to do the right thing.  Sometimes these things are related, and sometimes they just pop up in my life like random memories, or sudden outburst by people that think they can just dump their emotional baggage and leave.  

I suppose I am using this as a forum for doing my own dumping.  That may be why I created this space, or it may be a coincidence. 

Rainy days and Sunday

So many wild mushrooms, so little inspiration.  My wildcrafting friends are over achievers!

The poodle is captured and secured.

Occupy Heidi's Living-room; a pink tent city is erected

transporting the poodle to a more secure location, the bedroom! 

back to school night

Like so many things in our parenting lives, back to school night turned into a divide and conquer affair, with me taking Freyja to her thing, and Mark going with Maxwell to the band orientation.  I never know quite what to do at these things, it isn't like you can really talk to the teacher and the other parents are always busy herding their own children around, so talking to them is out too.  I wound up talking to a parent from my preschool.  Thank goodness she was there, or I would have been lost.

... she didn't know what to do!

I had a doozy parenting blunder on Tuesday.

It all started Monday night.  

I was all flummoxed over that missed e-mailed invitation for Freyja, for  a fairy club meeting, and I was all jangled by work and I was all distressed over how I was going find childcare for Freyja while I went to pick Maxwell up at the airport, that I somehow allowed myself to be led astray from my plan.

The plan was a simple one, to have a neighbor stay with Freyja while I went to pick up Maxwell. 

Then I started fretting about the e-mail thing and my mind got all woozly with worry. 

Then I allowed Mark to interject his opinion, which is never a good idea, because when I deviate from my plan, trouble is sure to follow. 

I should know better.

His idea was that he could somehow come home at 4:00pm and care for Freyja, which is about as likely as pigs flying, since he hasn't made it home before 6:30 in ages. 

So all of this was floating around in my head, making me very nervous, when a reply came from the mom of the fairy club child and I thought some how that the fairy club was the next day, right at the time I had to be at the airport, and having Mark pick up from there at 6:30 seemed like a pretty good solution. 

Problem solved!

E X C E P T !!!

The fairy club was in fact on WEDNESDAY, not Tuesday. 

I don't have a cell phone, so I didn't find out that my child was at someone's home on the wrong day, until I walked in the door at 5:55pm, and noticed a message from the daycare center.

"ummm, Heidi Freyja is saying she is supposed to go home with the fairy club, and her carseat is here, but the fairy club is Wednesday!"

Lucky for me the fairy mom was a good sport and took Miss F home with her. 

I phoned Mark who informed me that he was still at his office in Milwaukie!!!

Not close to picking Freyja up at all.

A whole town away!

I raced across town and picked her up at 6:15.

I was totally mortified, being someone that is not only, never late, but also  most certainly not usually confused!!

They laughed it off and offered to pick her up for the club the next day.

I happened to have an evening meeting so I asked Mark to pick up at 6:30 -and don't be late, I cautioned.

Except, I didn't go back and read the invitation, which said 6:00pm, so Mark was far from delighted with me when I got home at 7:30. 

The level of my embarrassment was so high, that I spent the balance of the evening pacing around the deck asking Rolf over and over to assess the lameness factor, and whether baking some kind of apology cake was in order? I briefly considered smoking a cigarette to calm my nerves and  in the end I made a card, and some candies and hoped with intensity, that this woman also has the occasional off week.

Saturday was a very long day.

Super chicken.  Super chicken likes to sneak up on tired mommy and snap her photo when she is wearing her nightgown, or trying to make dinner. 

Jewel rice.  Basmati rice with lemon and olive oil, parsley, green onion, cranberries, golden raisin, apricots and almonds

lentils with carrot and potatoes and baguette from the Pearl Bakery

trying to rest on the sofa was not in mine or the poodle's stars yesterday.

No, really, I am done with this game.

I need a weekend from my weekend

What a totally busy weekend it has been so far, starting with my insane christmas tree decking Friday evening...
I feel a little like Henry from the last scene in Goodfella's, where he is running around doing all kinds of unrelated tasks while making spaghetti sauce. 
Saturday I met with a colleague to over haul our mission and vision statement and put some final touches on a new logo.  While we worked on our mission, I had a crew working on a new bike shelter, three new windows being installed, and a new partitian being built in the five year old class restroom!
We gabbed for about four hours, which was fun, but damn, I was tired when I left.

I headed home just in time to pick Maxwell up from a birthday party wayyyy the heck out in NE, and we hit the grocery store on the way home. 

When I got home I made two pies, set the table for the St. Nicholas fondue party, and started shedding cheese and prepping the other stuff.

We had a nice dinner with friends, cleaned up, played Wii bowling, and headed to bed.

Freyja woke me up at 5:00am, so we cleaned up the bedrooms, and the upstairs bathroom, ate breakfast and headed to Home Depot at 7:00am (who knew? Yes, friends you too can do your home improvement projects at 7:00am on Sunday! ), where we purchased sealant for a restroom partition at the school.  

Miss F and I headed down to the school and she played while I sealed the wood and did a little deep cleaning. 

I also managed to knock over a big bottle of eucalyptus oil along the way, so the school is smelling mightily minty right now!

We headed home, ate lunch and I sewed new curtains for the newly improved restroom.

Mark just peeked his head in to remind me that I have to pick his mom up in a half hour, so she and I can volunteer at Maxwell's school art festival until 5:00pm!

No rest for the wicked this weekend! 

Little Fur Family

this is such a sweet story, we love it.  I went up to wake Freyja from nap and found her wrapped in a piece of faux fur, surrounded by stuffed friends, in my bed.  

She likes to wrap up in that fur thing and pretend to be the little fur child. 

That Margaret Wise Brown was certainly a genius at figuring out what appeals to children.

I adore her run away bunny.

I love the way my red room looks when the lights are off. 
I don't love finding 100 stuffed animals crowded into my bed, but what to do? 

 My kids only like to nap in my bed.

Moose

Friday night Mark had a going away party to attend after work, so I decided to take the kids to the Skyline Drive In for dinner.

The Skyline is an old school diner that sits at the the crest of a 20 mile stretch of road that winds through the hills west of Portland.

The winding road is quite charming in the daylight, but at night in the rain it can feel a bit scary, but the long and treacherous drive was not going to put me off my mission to kill as much time outside of the house as possible, before bed, so off we went- Maxwell, Freyja, Rolf and a tiny stuffed moose, named Moose.

When we finally arrived, it appeared that half of Portland had the same idea of what would be a good idea for dinner!  The tiny place was jam packed with families and rowdy teenagers taking up all the seats at the counter.

So we waited, and waited, and waited, which is never a good idea with Freyja.

She is impatient and a little wild, not a good combo in close quarters.

By the time we were seated, it was 7:00pm, and we were all starving!

We speed ordered and Rolf and Maxwell got started with milkshake, Freyja refused, insisting that the only thing she would eat was a hotdog, with no catchup, and NO bun.

While Rolf and Max enjoyed the milkshakes, Miss F. harassed the waitstaff each time they passed, demanding to know where her naked hotdog was.

I pretended not to notice.

Eventually we got the hotdog, the coleslaw and the split pea soup for which the place is known for and finished our meal, only to discover that they only take cash, which meant a much more meager tip than I had interned,  particularly considering the cranky five year old's relentless tongue lashing of the waiter.

We left to take out lives in our hands driving through the twists and turns back to the  flat safety of SE.

Right as we were about to cross the Ross Island Bridge, Freyja lets out a scream!

MOOSE! 

MOOOOOOOOSE! 

We forgot MOOSE!   

I cannot sleep without Moose!

I assured her that we could call and pick moose up the next day, but she was not convinced and screamed the rest of the way home.  

When we got home I started to phone the restaurant to ask after Moose's safety, but hardly had I picked up the phone book when Freyja  screams from the bathroom

There is water pouring out of the potty!!!!

and there was indeed a flood of water pouring out of the potty, filling the bathroom and working it's way into the kitchen.  

I waded in, turned off the valve behind the toilet, plunged and got the water to stop, got Rolf to put Freyja to bed, and spend the next two hours mopping, disinfecting and doing laundry (since it took every towel in the place to sop up the water). 

I was very tired and went to bed, around midnight, only to be awakened a half hour later by Mark coming home. 

At six the next morning Freyja wakes me up to remind me that we have to go and get Moose. 

So she and I sneak off and let everyone else sleep.  

The diner is open for breakfast, so we were able to get the moose without incident. 

As we drove away Freyja asked me to turn the rearview mirror so I could see greet & see Moose.  I told her that I couldn't because I needed to watch the road, and that I would greet Moose when I got home. 

Now you've hurt his feelings Mommy, he doesn't want to talk to you!

when you give birth...

People give birth everyday.

It is normal, miraculous, and extraordinary, all at once.

When there are complications it can become super intense, super fast.

There were complications, and I ended up on bedrest for SIX weeks.   I don't sit down for six seconds, how would I lie down for six weeks with my five year old and my new born?

Both of my kids nearly killed me. 

For Real. 

Honestly.  

Birth is just not for me.

Five years ago, I was  happy to have a big, healthy baby girl, right before they told me not to move for six weeks, lest I drop dead.

Nice.

All that natural birth shit?

Right out the window, this baby had done me in.

My husband was due to leave on a business trip for New York.

We needed that income, that business trip! 

I had no choice but to call on the replacements !

Both my parents and Rolf came through with flying colors!

They made Maxwell's life ok, and got me through a dark time.

Is sleep a feminist issue? You tell me.

Here is a thought provoking blog post.  I would say something meaningful about it, but I am too tired.

http://www.blogher.com/sleep-feminist-issue?wrap=blogher-topics/family-dynamics

Captain America

On the way to swimming lessons with Freyja...


"What language do they speak in Hawaii?"

English.

"English like Onkie speaks?" (she means with an accent)

No, just English. Hawaii is part of the US.

"Us? Us? Hawaii is part of us? (can spell, us, cat, yes...)

No, the US, The United States of America. America.

"Like Captain America?"

Yes, like that.

"Captain America lives in HAWAII?"

sigh,
yes, yes he does.

fanicful fairies

I finished up this sweet little fairy, and started on another.

I will make some little pillow cases out of them, later.

Embroidery is one of those focused activities that feels really satisfying, when I am feeling melancholy and meaningless.
Machine sewing doesn't really do it for me, since i am not skilled enough for it to be fun, but this- I do it well, so I feel accomplished at the end.
I was delighted to find the perfect embroidery basket, with a close fitting lid, at Goodwill recently.
I am not very neat with my supplies and having them sitting out in the open, is like a red flag for both Moonshadow and Freyja to ransack the stuff, and throw needles and thread all over the place, which is never a good idea.

I am really proud of having mastered the French knot, finally.
The fairy dust was like French knot boot camp, and I passed with flying colors! I don't know what compelled me to put that one blue star in there.
It always happens to me- I always have to throw in some out of line thing.

There is this little voice in me that drives me on to do something off color or experimental... and there it is one blue star wrecking an almost perfect piece of work.
Sigh.

more rambling without consequence or reason

It really was a dreary, terrible day.
More of the tantrum throwing from F. and the losing of the cool from me.

and I am tired as hell to boot.
I may never be not tired again- I think.

The past month has been like having a newborn again, with frequent night wakings. I am not coping well, and I am tired.

I feel the need to be selfish, but I can even get time to be selfish.

We wound up walking out right in the middle of ballet.

I am sure the other mothers thought I was a clod.

What they didn't know what that I had spent an hour before ballet listening to a tantrum and screaming over wearing tights. I was not in the mood for the high jinks that were taking place on the dance floor, so I picked her up and said "she is really out of sorts, I am taking her home".

At the time she was laying on the floor refusing to get up and go to the corner to start the dance.

The teacher was trying to drag her.

I was just over all the theatrical stuff and ready to leave.

You either get up and dance, or we leave.

I am not entertaining your "big emotions". We are leaving.

A woman on a tour of the preschool asked me something about "big emotions" ie, tantrums.

I am only compassionate about small, sweet emotions today, ask me again, in the morning.

The hard part is I have to go back next week and sit there in the cramped space with all these long suffering mommies and feel like the big insensitive, creep that pulled her screaming child off the dance floor.
Oh, well.

And they are OFF!

I just returned from the airport.
I put Maxwell and my niece on a plane to go to Washington DC with my mom, for a week.

This is an exciting adventure for them, but a tiny bit nerve jangling for me and my brother. As interactions with my mother go, this was largely very smooth.

In fact it was all feeling a bit too good to be true until my brother phoned me at 8:00pm to tell me that I needed to meet him at the check in counter at 9:30am so that we only had to pay the unaccompanied minor charge once, since they will honor it for up to three children traveling together.

WHAT?

What charge?

Maxwell has been flying alone for five years and there has never been a charge.

It seems that this airline, charges $75 for children flying alone.

Oh, good thing I know, since I don't usually carry $$$ on me, and I had not deposited my paycheck into my account, and I had just paid a big dental bill and was down to my last $50 or so in the bank... nice.

and why are we checking in at 9:30am for a 10:00am flight?

Oh, right, that is how my brother likes to do things- on the fly, at the last moment, without a plan.

Nein Danke,
not for me.

"Ummmm, I am really not comfortable with that plan. I would rather pay the full price and get there early and not be rushed or stressed."

It seems he had not made any childcare arrangements for his younger child, who had to be at school at 8:45, and they live (on a good day without traffic) an hour away from Portland.

OOOPS!

As a rule I am not what you would call a calm person, and yesterday was a really ratty day, and by 8:00pm, I was sort of burned out, and naturally I became a bit upset over the pressure to meet at 9:30.

Eventually I asked Mark to deal with the plan, and I went to pick Maxwell up from karate practice.

When I returned it was all ironed out and we agreed to meet at 8:30, and if they were not there by 8:45, I was to leave and go through security.

And it all worked out well enough.

Naturally, because I had insisted on being early, there was not a soul in the airport and we had tons of time to wait around.

We got to walk on the people movers and eat bagels (that were NOT good at all!)

My brother got to lecture me about being overly polite, and overly concerned about other people, and being overly nervous,
all of which makes me nervous as hell.

All because I kept insisting that the children stand on one side of the other of the aisles, so that people walking faster could pass easily.

"Heidi, why do you care so much about those people?"

ummm, it's called being polite??

anyway we got through it and while I will most likely not sleep for the next week, until his is safely back in his own bed, I am glad that Maxwell gets to have a cool vacation, because god knows his parents are never going to get it together to leave town anytime soon.

rainy, random, ramble

I could write this day like the intro to The Cat in the Hat.

It was a cold cruddy day, and the children stayed in to play.

The little one bellowed and bawled, demanded and snapped, refused to eat, refused to NAP.

The big one was cranky, belligerent and gruff.

Mama felt that a rainy Saturday without daddy certainly was rough.

There was no tv to soften the blow,
as the creeps in Washington forced digital conversion, the weather interfered with the box, and the screen remained white as snow.

"Damn you to hell", the mama was heard shouting.

"don't use potty words mama", the son said, outing, his mother's terrible temper.

"bring me more coffee!" she said, as she collapsed with a whimper.

I am cold, I am tired, I brought out playdough.

If you know me at all, you know that messy toys is not how I usually go.

So it goes, three days with no TV.

The digital thing is a mystery to me.

Unhook it! Unhook it!

The poor husband said on the phone.

You know I am a technical idiot,

I screamed!

just leave me alone!

blahhumblog, clutterbug

I am really freaking tired today.
Scary tired.

I have two meetings to attend and all I want to do is roll up into a ball
and
sleep.

You can sort of judge the my state of mind, by the level of clutter in my house, and I think we are reaching
code red
that print?

That was a holiday gift, one I REQUESTED, specifically.
I may have even nagged a teeny bit.

There it sits unframed. Though not unloved. I had visions of something ornate an vintage, gilt, perhaps but so far I haven't found anything that strikes my fancy, and to tell you the truth- I haven't looked very hard.
Those Ikea candles, truly are non-drip- so I guess that is something. I love them. and I am not a big Ikea fan. Not like most people.


here is Moonshadow hanging out on the diningroom chair, along with
a PAINTING!
Like it is totally normal, she is getting all haughty, thinking her hair doesn't stick or something.

I am blaming my tiredness on all the grinding at the dentist yesterday, to "prepare" the tooth for the crown.
I was up half the damn night with jaw pain, and weird dreams.
I think it is absurd that I should pay $522.79
only to have to WAIT for 16 days to have the crown "seated".
GRRRRRR.

I will never tire of ranting about this.
I think temp crowns are one of the most irritating things invented.

My mouth hurts, I am tired, my husband is gone for five days, and things feel all unhinged.
Can I say it again?
Hell, yes!
it is my blog and I whine if I want to.
I have no obligation to be nice here.
HA!

My son is taking advantage of my
mood, and my desire to blog,
by quietly eating "Onkel bread" with butter
and drinking cherry juice in the living room.
Strictly verboten under normal circumstances- too crumby, too much stain potential.
Clever boy.
His sister needs to get up from nap, or she will never go to bed tonight.

Off I go.



This is manna from heaven, for my children. Onkel bread, is white bread, which their evil, whole-grain pusher mother rations to them, but their wonderful and fabulous
Onkie, buys with great abandon, all the damn time.
The only thing better is "old Onkie bread", the tooth shattering result of forgetting the bread for several days. You would think they were starving peasants, the way the swoon over the stuff.

On the mend

Maxwell is feeling better.
His fever is gone, and after sleeping for most of two days, he seems to be fine, except for some giant rats in his hair.

Saintly Son

the headache did not get better.

The vomiting didn't go away.

My son is sick he has a temp of 102.5

He has not eaten all day.

I am trying to normalize this sick.

This is a flu.

This is what people go through with their children.

It is always scary when a child is sick.

This child, has been sick a lot.

At six months he could not swallow. The part of the brain that makes you swallow, stopped making him swallow.

It was a very big problem.
A feeding tube was put in.

we were told by a particularly callous doctor, when he was a baby, that he wouldn't live beyond his first birthday.

We were told he had a seizure disorder, that would wreck his brain.

We have spent nine years waiting for the other shoe to drop, but so far he is fine, his brain not wrecked, his brain is
Brilliant. Magnificent. Delightful.

like the rest of him.

I used to take him to alternative care providers often.

I racked up a lot of debt.

Our family doctor, a sweet man, with sparse red hair and a gentle touch, told us he would be fine.
He never believed the callous specialist.
We retain the family doctor, he came to the hospital when our second child was born and needed NICICU.
He is full of kindness.
We make mean comments about the specialist.
We still hate him. We talk about how awful he is and we hate him openly, my mother and me. It bonds us. one of the few things.

Maxwell is fine enough.
He vomits & chokes frequently, he reads at a high school level, he flaps his arms when bored, he rocks when he is distracted, he is nearly perfect and we adore him.

We waited nearly six years to have a second child, because we wanted to be fair to him. We were old and tired, we had cared for our most beloved, dear child for so long, by then, that we lost a bit of focus... was it fair to have another? was it fair to leave him on his own, in the event that his old parents were gone?

How the hell, does one know? We chose romance over prudence.

He has a loud, healthy sister, that puzzles all of us, even the dog.

So today he is ill, and his sister is well, and when I went to check on him I smelled vomit.

alarmed!!

"did you throw up again? Why didn't you call me"

"I didn't want to worry you, mommy, I cleaned it all up, brushed my teeth and washed out the sink. I knew you were busy with Freyfrey"

He is my child to the very core.

when your child is sick

it is just now 11:00am, but it feels fair enough to take a little break.

Time for Mary Poppins to take over for a few minutes.

My children are sickish.

Frey is just unable to "sniff"- this inability to sniff has created a lot of drama over the past two days, along with demands that I fix it.

I cannot fix the sniffer, so I allow her to sleep with me in her signature L style, with her little toes digging into my side all night long.

Maxwell got up at 5:00 am with a stiff neck and "a knife going through my head", headache.

He also threw up,

but throwing up is very normal for him, so we had to go through a long conversation about the origin of the vomit.

"is your stomach upset?"

no

" are you dizzy?"

a little

"are your really hungry and feeling shaky?"

a little

so the vomiting is most likely a result of the headache and not a true stomach thing.

I hope.

My husband returns tomorrow, most likely just in time for everyone to be well again.

cheers.

Popovers & soup with a side of sickness

I am tired,

my family is sick.

I feel vaguely sick myself.

Monday was a bit of a loss...

I wasted four hours, yesterday (not all in a row, thank god) messing with tech difficulties on the computer.

Nothing new here.

Just the same old crud.

I am the same inept idiot who cannot operate a camera.

I tried to go swimming, only to leave after 30 minutes, with my sciatica acting up something fierce.

a true pain in the ass.

It got more exciting from there...

MIL called at 1:20am to get Mark to take her to the ER, she has pneumonia!

AGAIN!

There is nothing like being up at 1:30 in the morning and worrying about your partner to make you feel like crap.

Good thing I had work at 7:30, to keep me busy!

I know it scared him, to have his mom hospitalworthy sick in the night, for the second time in six months.

To makes matters worse, he has a 6:00am flight to NY, in the morning.

Didn't we say something last week about not being owned by stress?

Man, it feels relentless lately.

I did make a really good mushroom soup (lots of zinc, ya know) last night for all us sickies, and potential sickies...

saute a couple pounds of mushroom slices, with an onion, in EVVO.
add veg broth to the desired consistency, and some fresh spinach, red peppers, and garlic. very lovely.

You may serve with some really tall popovers, if you feel daring. Otherwise good old fashioned toast will work.

All my hopes of posting pictures, on a regular basis, have gone right out the window, as both the camera and the computer are FUBAR and make me want to rip what is left of my hair out, each time I attempt to post.

ARRGH.