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The Impending Doom Shawl and Other Snowy Thoughts

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It’s snowpocalyse. Portland has had a foot of snow on the ground since Wednesday. Life as we know it has pretty much ground to a halt.

Two big lessons have come out of this:

  1. You know that post office claim of delivering come rain, sleet, snow, no matter what? Bullshit.
  2. And cabin fever? That’s totally real. And it causes you imagine being transported by Amazon drone to warm places with ripe tomatoes and low carb cocktails.

Naturally, I’m using the time to knit as much as possible. About two days before the election, I started what I EXPECTED to be a fun shawl project to distract me from my tummy butterflies about the election. I thought I was being silly for worrying that Hillary would lose. We all EXPECTED her to win.

And then. Well. We know what happened. But I kept trucking on my shawl, despite my misgivings about the 70s color scheme I had chosen. Hey, I checked with Nora and she liked the color combo. Good enough for me.

Now it’s a few days before inauguration and I’m finished with it. It’s so ugly, it’s cute.

The Impending Doom Shawl
The Impending Doom Shawl

Or maybe ugly times call for ugly shawls?

I tried not to let election feelings leak into the project, but since it was knit from election to inauguration, that was impossible. Therefore, I’ve decided to name it the “Impending Doom Shawl.” In the event of an actual apocalypse, I can use it to wrap my children around me while we struggle through a nuclear winter as opposed to just the strangely snowy winter we are currently facing.

Have I mentioned I haven’t been out of the house since Tuesday? This fact may be clouding my perspective somewhat.

This post was lovingly sponsored by my Patreon supporters (you can become one, too!). 

May Other People Feel This

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Far happier than she appearsThe woman in this photo is far happier than she appears.
 
What a year, a life.
 
Even on days when a cold virus is plaguing the entire household (the baby in my arms must sleep sitting up so she can breathe), we are warm, safe, well fed.
 
We are kind and understanding and honest about one another’s imperfections.
 
Even on days when I’m so tired my inside voice is telling everyone to shut the eff up, it only takes a second to stop and think, oh yeah, this life.
 
The glowing skin of my daughters. The long hugs from my love. These walls. This wood. This fire.
 
These thoughts. These hands. These tears. These words.
 
Love and goodness has me surrounded, and I’m deliciously old enough to see it.
 
My wish for the New Year: May other people feel this*.
 
This life. Amazing.
 
—
 

*Especially Donald Trump.

My Work/Life Juggle & PEARS

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The only true multi-tasking I can do.
The only true multi-tasking I can do.

Here’s a somewhat complete list of what I did today.

A Tuesday.

Before 4:00pm.

  • drank first cup of coffee around 5:15 am
  • finished newsletter for a client
  • edited blog post for my favorite client: The Center for Parental Leave Leadership
  • kissed husband as he was leaving
  • showered/got dressed
  • changed baby’s diaper and fed her
  • woke up big kid
  • moved diapers from washer to dryer
  • threw a PEAR and a peanut butter sandwich in big kid’s lunch bag
  • loaded 45 pounds of school fundraiser PEARS in the car
  • loaded baby, baby gear, laptop and planner into car
  • drove opposite direction from school to deliver 25 pounds PEARS to a pregnant friend
  • drove kid to school while listening to Heard it Through the Grapevine on repeat so baby wouldn’t scream
  • chatted and ate other people’s snacks outside school (hard boiled eggs, cheese and salami — yum!)
  • coordinated getting cranial sacral therapy for the baby after getting rear-ended last week
  • realized baby has a cold
  • drove to friend/favorite client’s house, did second round edit on blog post & fed baby
  • realized I have a cold
  • drove downtown to deliver another 5 pounds of PEARS and meet old work friends for coffee and changed a poopy blow-out diaper on a Starbuck’s chair (that’s what happens when there’s no diaper deck, people!)
  • delivered 15 pounds PEARS to another downtown location
  • drove back to school
  • checked blood sugar and calibrated my continuous glucose monitor
  • checked email and texts while baby slept in the car
  • rescheduled a recurring meeting
  • sent text begging friend/neighbor to let the dog out because nobody had yet (oops — sorry, Charlie!)
  • watched school Michaelmas play
  • cried (as I always do when seeing children perform anything)
  • drove exhausted children home
  • ate plate of nachos & a PEAR
  • changed baby’s diaper
  • shared photos and video from play on Instagram and Facebook
  • fed baby
  • made a grocery list
  • vegged out on the inter-webs while baby slept on me
  • made coffee
  • cleaned the kitchen (because gawd)
  • removed bra
  • remembered to email link to favorite nursing bra to another mom
  • brainstormed article ideas
  • wrote this blog post

Parent Night

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Last night was parent night, or so I thought. I arranged for Nana Sandi to stay with Nora. I was excited Ben and I were getting to go somewhere together, even if it was just Nora’s school.  We’d chat with other parents and Nora’s beautiful teacher. Ben would use decorative beeswax to decorate a candle that would be used for Nora’s birthday celebration next spring.

Perhaps best of all, I would skip putting-Nora-to-bed duties.

When we got to the school, we had a ridiculously easy time finding a parking spot.  We walked in and checked the event board. I got the night wrong.

Instant date night! We headed to our favorite swank grocery store and bought anything we wanted. Then drove to Sellwood Park, on the banks of the Willamette river.  We kissed at the end of the floating dock and laid back, feeling the dock undulate in the wake of the Portland Spirit. We watched a group of kayakers alight on the shore in the dusk.

We climbed back in the car and drove around, finally parking in a neighborhood, talking about how we got where we are and where we want to be. Together.

When it was late enough that Nora would surely be asleep, we drove home.  

We walked into the house and Nora called for Ben.

Then she called for me.

I went to her and walked her through falling asleep: “Get comfortable, close your eyes. Take a deep breath and when you breath out, feel yourself sink into the bed. Now, everytime your body wants to wiggle, or your brain wants to talk, just say to yourself, ‘No, no, it’s okay, time for sleep.  It’s okay.’ Just pretend like you’re already asleep.”

“My body won’t let me!”

I told her to keep trying I would check on her once I was ready for bed.

“Get ready as fast as you can,” she said.

When I was ready, I climbed into bed with Ben.

“I had a good night with you,” I said.

“I had a great night with you,” he said.

“Mommeeeeeeeee!”

I padded down the hallway and climbed in next to Nora.

“I’m so tired Nora, I bet I can fall asleep faster than you can.”

“Are you asleep now?” she asked immediately.

“No.”

“Are you asleep now?”

“Stop it.”

“Are you asleep now?”

“Stop. Go to sleep.”

For a long time, there was only the sound of constant wiggling and the sniffling of a stuffed up little nose.

Then, poooooooooooooot!

“I tooted.”

I feigned sleep.

More wiggling ensued. 

Then, achoooo!

“I sneezed.”

I lay inert.

The wiggles continued and increased in intensity.  Feet jabbed into my calves. Finally, I little arm jutted through mine and she locked elbows with me. The wiggling stopped. She slept.

I padded back down the plush hallway rug to my husband.

 

Interruptus Fairy

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Our summer schedule has not been very conducive to spousal communcation. Ben is leaving for work around the time I wake up. My commute is extra long, heading up to North Portland everyday for Nora’s nanny. By the time we get home, it’s time for dinner. Then chicken and garden maintenance. Then bedtime. I fall asleep before Ben and I have a chance to connect.

So on Sunday, we identified the problem and made a plan of action. I’ll wake up at 5:00am, with Ben. Nora’s been sleeping until around 7:00am, so there will be plenty of time to chat before she wakes up. We can relax and have coffee together, just like old times.

We made these plans when Nora wasn’t at home.

So can someone please explain to me why it is that Nora has awoken every morning this week at 5:00am?

Is there some interruptus fairy who flits around tipping kids off when parents are plotting for alone time?

10 Things I’ve Learned in 10 Years of Marriage

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10 Years of marriage.

I can hardly believe it’s been that long, yet I can’t remember what it’s like not to have Ben by my side.

I’ve been in a list making mood since my birthday post.  So here’s another list of things I’ve learned, this time marriage specific.

  1. There should be nothing you can’t talk about.
  2. Never drag your partner somewhere (s)he doesn’t want to be, at least not if you want to enjoy yourself.
  3. Don’t play games; ask for what you need.  Then ask again 3 months later. (Everybody needs reminders.)
  4. Keep working your biggest issue
  5. Make sure it’s not always the same person doing the accommodating, both of you need to give.
  6. Little notes, telling old stories and inside jokes are great ways to stay connected.
  7. Make sure both of you are getting plenty of vitamin D. Grind the pills into spaghetti sauce if you have to.
  8. Make common goals and work together to attain them (especially financial ones).
  9. Let your limbic system cool down. If you can’t talk without yelling, wait it out.
  10. Make sure you’re taking care of yourself, you can’t be a good partner if you’re not doing what you need to do to stay emotionally and physically healthy.

One final note, ten years later, I am more sure than ever that I married the right man for me.

I love you, Ben.