booandbunny

I miss him when he goes to school, more than I thought I would. I enjoy my freedom when they are all at school, more than I thought I would. I’ve been trying to do a few things I have been putting off and it has felt good, but it keeps me from the keys, even from my journal, and I am going to have to devote some time to writing the whispers out of my head soon: The Monsters for Sunday Scribblings … The time I’ve spent with my own face … The realization that time alone is integral to a centered life … What I’ve discovered in my first month taking karate classes … But there are things between me and the keys, pulling me away from my pen and I’m looking to balance my four hours alone so that I can finish what needs to be done and still do some things I want to do. A blog stop this morning got me thinking about lists, so I decided making one might help.

Ten things keeping me from the keys

1. Cruising online freelance markets is painstakingly tedious and seemingly non-productive, but I shall press on. I think a big problem I have is that some postings are so vague as to seem shady and I need to stuff my suspicions in a sack and take a chance.

2. Suddenly, I am the person all the neighbors call when they have a complaint or need something done. After years with the homeowners association it’s time to find somebody else for this job, so I have to get all the papers in order—ready to hand to my replacement.

3. July and August were busier than they seemed. There was the silly daily fun, as well as the traveling, which is what really surprised me. We did more than I expected! Then, when that was done, we organized the neighborhood block party and went to a baseball game with people from school and managed a few dinners with friends then had to get the clothes and supplies and visit school and we started karate. WHAM! The last six weeks of summer … DONE! … and nary a word did I write about it.

4. The new school year brings a tidal wave of papers home that I dutifully sift through, sign and return: health inventories, transportation information, emergency contacts and volunteer forms. Whew. But Second and Third grade are on a regular homework schedule in this, the first full week of classes. Kindergarten will likely start homework before the end of September. It’s a balancing act. And with someone going to karate four nights a week we have to stick to a timetable. Forming new, good habits can be stressful, but we’re getting it done. The first few weeks of a new schedule are always tough.

5. A month ago I stared karate in the evenings, but I find myself on the sofa dozing as soon as the kids are in bed. This is costing me valuable creative time! Have to get up and keep moving after they are in bed.

6. The beginning of the school year has also forced me to get in gear for the class we teach at church. Last year I did my last-minute thing at least 10 times. I don’t want to do that again! So I’ve been getting all of that organized and ready to start in two weeks.

7. I have too many ideas write now. (YIPES! Re-reading I find this fascinating typo!) Boo and Bunny need to grow older … I have a notebook of crooked scribble on this somewhere. Short stories on travelers whisp through my brain and I fear they will be lost, so I suffer from an internal nagging that forces me to eventually just shutdown when really, I should start a new notebook. I’ve got some things I want to try to put together as samples of potentially marketable products. And a plethora of crafty creations pushing at the insides of my fingertips, trying to burst out if only I would allow them. Instead I press on with my scrapbooking and will continue to do so until it feels like a job.

8. I’m thinking of entering a local art show/competition. If I do I’ll try to post a picture of the work here. It was a theme that just jumped out at me when I read about it and so I’m trying to put something together … we’ll see how it turns out. I’ve never attempted anything like this before, but am having fun.

9. The house is ready for some change-of-season love. It doesn’t hurt that we’ve scheduled a bulky trash pick up for next Wednesday. These deadlines always spur us to action! (garage, yard, basement) If we work really hard Saturday, maybe we can take in the air show Sunday and go see the baby elephant at the zoo Monday. Of course, none of these things is writing!

10. I found myself with no desire to read. I was bookless for about a month and haven’t been as good as I should be about visiting other people’s blogs. It seems, looking back, that I was so bummed out about losing that job that I didn’t even have the energy to engage in a fantasy world or the desire to leave comments out here. (Everything kept coming out with this odd tone that I didn’t feel comfortable posting.) But shutting myself out of other people’s writing might be a part of my own shut down. I am forcing myself to try to read a few pages a day. And, while I’m still not leaving many comments, I am checking in and catching up. Back on the horse. Giddyup!

There are a few days in your life when you wake up and can’t deny a certain fact.

Today my life will change forever.

The day you graduate high school there is that sudden finality. An era of life has ended and you’re expected to be a bit more grown up now.

The day you graduate college and you look across that sea of hopeful job hunters and realize they’re no longer your comrades. They are your competition.

The day you don that dress and step onto that white runner and see his glimmering eyes at the end of the aisle.

The day … this day … when your last one takes his first solo trip away from the nest and you realize that nest building, nest tending, nesting is what you do. And you say a prayer that bus doesn’t leave school without him because he can’t read yet and he’s only 5 and he gets confused even when the people he trusts ask him too many questions … what would he do if the principal were trying to help him and he forgot all the right answers?

Fluffy feathers fall across the yard as he heads toward the bus. You know the kind. The flitty little down that you don’t understand the first time you see a real nest. The kind that warms the eggs and cushions the chicks and covers there bodies once they’ve dried off after hatching. The kind they shed when they don’t need it anymore.

And my eyes move from Kindergarten across Second Grade to that face that’s lost all traces of the baby I once held and holds hints of the man I’ll know someday. As the most independent of my three bold souls he has never outwardly expressed his need for me as much as the others, but after many years we are finally coming to an understanding: He might not need a kiss goodbye or goodnight, but I do. Thank God I work to gather those each day because when he really needs me he doesn’t hesitate to reach out. I wonder if he isn’t a bit anxious about today, about new classmates. Second Grade … let the cruelty of childhood ratchet itself up another notch.

A blue feather sails down from somewhere, the long kind that a jay might lose in a snit over territory. No permanent harm to the bird, just a temporary sting. It’s the kind of sting you remember for a very long time.

I turn back to the nest and see a dance. It is the movement, the music, the energy that is my not-so-little girl. It seems like just yesterday these back-to-school tears I shed were for her first day of Kindergarten. I went into the house clinging to the hands of my little boys and I cuddled them on the sofa, trying not to cry. Now she moves through my days in ways that make me realize how short the time is until she embarks on her journey to womanhood. Third Grade … boys are more interesting, clothes more intriguing, dancing more curvy.

An immature bald eagle comes to mind. She’s always loved bald eagles and, since she was very young, has called those yet to grow into the characteristic white plumage “teenagers.” While I’m thankful we’re still a way off from that, one might argue 9-12 is a more difficult time than 15-18.

Yes, there are days when you wake up and you can’t deny a certain fact.

Today my life will change forever.

And perhaps losing that big contract couldn’t have come at a better time because I’m not where I thought I would be on this day. Hell, I have even applied for a fulltime gig, an interesting sounding job with a great starting salary, but now that I think about it I just don’t have it in me.

If you had told me seven years ago when I left that newsroom for the last time that I would never want to work like that again I would have cawed and said something about missing the rush … the satisfaction of doing something I’m really good at.

If you had told me four years ago that one day I would be standing here, the last of them off to Kindergarten with more excitement in his eyes than fear, I would have cooed and whispered something like, shhhh … they’re all asleep.

IF anyone, anywhere in all the articles I’ve ever read had told me that trying to make the leap from the nest back into the world I once knew was going to be such an utterly offensive thought I certainly wouldn’t have believed them. I have been at home since 1999. I have been fortunate enough to keep my hands on the keyboard since 2000. I didn’t just walk away from my career. But the idea of going fulltime now … Now when he’s got so much new to express … Now when he’s got that tendency to internalize … Now when she’s surrounded by cliques at their genesis … Now it makes my stomach turn.

Putting them in aftercare … putting them in camp next summer … putting Captain Kindergarten in daycare because school is only half a day … it would undo everything we’ve worked for these past seven years. And the moment I realized this was the moment I really realized it’s been sEvEN YEARS!

When you’re standing in the middle of potty training and finger foods and people too small to reason with, you spend the day chasing them, teaching them what is safe and maybe what is right. And you spend the day chasing your tail and hoping you don’t bite down on it too hard should you catch it. Every day is a marathon and, when you fall through that tape at the end you realize you have the same to-do list for tomorrow that you had for today.

And you spin and you spin and you line the nest and you fluff the nest and you lay eggs and they hatch and you gather the worms and you fluff the nest and you weather the storms and you keep cool in the heat and you fluff and you gather and one day you turn around and they are all standing there … right there at the edge and they’re shouting: "You always say No! Please let us try!"

And you wake up and you can’t deny a certain fact.

Today your life will change forever.

“Go ahead, babies. Fly.”

And they do.

Here's a little scribble inspired by actual events, canine stereotypes and that great old song, Parents Just Don't Understand. Oh! Will and I have grown up so much since then, and so it was with great affection I totally ripped off his beat (to the best of my abilties) and the heart of his lyrics for this light-hearted effort. For more on what we think our pets think check out the clever bunch over at Sunday Scribblings. Happy Weekend!

You know humans are the same
No matter time nor place
They don't understand that us dogs
Are going to make some mistakes
So to you, all the dogs all across the land
There's no need to argue
Humans just don't understand

Like, one day, they took off for work
Forgot to fill my water I could die of thirst
When they got back later made a bunch of noise
’Cause I drank from the toilet like the neighbor’s boys
But the noise didn’t matter I was glad to see ’em
Dehydration couldn’t stop my happy peein’

And when she tripped over me in the dark
You didn’t hear me yelp didn’t hear me bark
I was just so happy I wasn’t alone
See dogs can’t fill the silence usin’ cell phones

Or, OK, how about this situation
My owners went away on a week’s vacation
Took me to a glass house with a toddler bed
Sure there was TV and ya I got fed
But when they got me home they started to holler
I was runnin’ all around they took me by the collar
Put me out back and closed the door
What’d they bother with bringin’ me home for
Didn’t mean no harm just so glad to see ’em
Could not stop my happy peein’

So to you all the dogs all across the land
There's no need to argue
Humans just don't understand

Then there was the time I ate the remote
He was at Target for a new one that night, couldn’t cope
And two days later sealin’ up the Ziploc
He saw I pooped the number buttons, imagine his shock

Then another time that they got in the car
Said it wouldn’t be long said they wouldn’t go far
As I looked out the window and watched ’em pull away
I got tangled up in the Christmas holiday
Imagine the language imagine the sound
When they came in saw that tree pulled down
And Styrofoam and ribbon up on the couch
Plastic and glass all over the house
At 2 a.m. I didn’t feel so good,
Barfin’ up glass and some hunks of wood

But they got me to the vet made sure I was fine
Scratched between my ears stayed there the whole time
Next day we went out and played some ball
While she took her sweet time shoppin’ at the mall
And when she got home she brought me new chew toys
Ya, they love me despite all the noise

I can't believe it, despite my mistakes
Well humans are the same no matter time nor place
So to you all the dogs all across the land
Take it from me
Sometimes they understand

Eva (left) is into decorations. She is now 2. Schultz, her predecessor, was such a guy, just had to have that remote. Neither liked the kennel very much (I don't think any dog does.) and I'm quite certain both sampled the toity water, which is why I believe in living in a lid-down house! Either way, I don't think an animal could love this family more than either of them has.

There’s something that happens to me about this time each year, when we go to Oklahoma to visit family.

Oklahoma is the place where I came of age. It’s the place where I first experienced what it’s like to be in the minority, whether as a woman in a group of men, as a Caucasian in a group of other ethnic people or as a Catholic in a city of fundamentalists. It was the place where I learned some of the true differences between the North and the South. It was the place I couldn’t wait to leave. I am a Yankee, though even Missouri seems Southern to me after my time in Chicago, but I digress.

As it is with most things as we get older, I see it differently now. When we cross the state line and take those slow curves and easy undulations of the Will Rogers Turnpike into Tulsa I just can’t get over the beauty of it all. Cross the Arkansas River on the West side of Tulsa and the vegetation changes just a bit. Where the Earth is opened, whether by nature or machine, the most amazing shades of red burst forth in the sunlight. I love this drive along the spirit of Route 66, the stone walls that rise up on either side of the road in Southwest Missouri; the boats that make little sense to folks unfamiliar with the abundance of lakes in these two states; the license plates from Vermont to California reminding me of how far apart Americans are while all still traveling the same road.

So we took time off from our “library travels” as we logged some actual miles this past month. Here are some of the books we read to celebrate an All-American month, from the Fourth of July to our annual trek Southwest.

Hello U.S.A.: Oklahoma by Rita C. LaDoux (facts, history, famous natives, etc.)

A True Book: The Seminole by Stefanie Takacs

A True Book: The Cherokee by Andrew Santella

A True Book: The Choctaw by Christin Ditchfield

The Creek Nation by Allison Lassieur

The Chikasaw Nation by Karen Bush Gibson

(Originally, Indian Territory was divided up for these five tribes. Eventually, their holdings dwindled as more and more tribes were relocated before the land run. These non-fiction books for young readers offer history, culture and insight on modern tribal life.)

I Have Heard of a Land by Joyce Carol Thomas, illustrated by Floyd Cooper (This story illustrates the role of former slaves in the land run.)

O, Say Can you See? America’s Symbols, Landmarks and Inspiring Words by Sheila Keenan, illustrated by Ann Boyajian (Lively watercolor illustrations with history of places to visit and evolution of symbols such as the flag and national holidays.)

If the Walls Could Talk: Family Life at the White House by Jane O’Connor illustrated by Gary Hovland (Tracks construction of White House as well as the important events and the lifestyle changes over the course of presidency, all the way to today.)

Don’t Know Much About the Presidents by Kenneth C. Davis (2002)

Don’t Know Much About the 50 States by Kenneth C. Davis (Davis has a great way of boiling things down for the youngest readers to start getting a taste of facts. Neither book devotes more than a page to any one subject, but offers enough for kids to pack some trivia into their very absorbent brains!)