Heart Like a Time Bomb

each day home, "working,"
my heart feels like a time bomb
and i cannot breathe

I'm not sure whether to hit "Publish" on this one or not.

Changing the Way I Communicate

So. We had our first meeting today with a person who is professionally trained to help people like us with our communication issues. Since we are trying to work and live together successfully, it seems like a good idea.

Especially since I've got issues. Chronic issues, is the phrase that came up today. Not sure how I feel about that phrase. Some relief that I probably can let go of thinking I can fix myself in an instant ("If I could just find THE answer!"), but also, hmm. That sounds like something that isn't going to go away as quickly as I'd like. And it may require more effort than I'd hoped.

Anyway, it was helpful just to talk to each other with a neutral third party listening.

So I'm feeling good, ya know? Like, Oh, hey, I really can and should say what's on my mind. And it's going to be okay. So far today it's even been helpful in a business sort of way.

Now, a few hours later, Husband is getting a bit tired of the Confident Wife. We're joking around with what he might say to our friend at the next meeting: "Hey, my wife is more broken than she was last week!"

Hey, can you believe I just now added "marriage" as a label on this blog? Guess that tells me something.

The Robin's Egg

Pale blue robin's egg,
fallen, whole, rare and precious --
Son stomped it to bits.

It's a metaphor
that what's important to me
gets smash'd without thought.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
He really didn't know, said he thought it was a piece of Easter candy (we did have malted balls called "robin's eggs"). But I was disappointed on two levels -- I didn't get to enjoy looking at it, and he didn't even hesitate an instant, just stomped it to bits.

It wasn't going to be a robin -- there was no way to put it back into the tree -- but I still mourn the loss of a beautiful item of God's handiwork.

Yet again rethinking the "lets raise a city kid" idea!

I'll Miss My Grocery Cart Passenger

I see it coming, but I don't want it to happen.

DuckyBoy is getting almost too big to fit into the seat of the grocery cart ... and almost too big for me to lift him in.

I know, I got longer than many people -- he's 6-and-a-half, for Pete's sake -- but I love that we can be eye-to-eye and talk while we get the groceries. It's not going to be nearly as fun for him to have to walk around the store. And he can't comfortably sit and snack, which buys me some shopping time without having to be talking with him.

He's at the same stage with the hard bucket swings at the playgrounds. A couple of months ago when we had a warm spell, I stuffed him and several of his friends into the bucket swings on the school playground, much to the chagrin of the other moms and babysitters who had to extricate their first- (and one second-) grader. (I would have done it, I swear! I have a trick! They just have to push off of your leg!)

DB and I can still make it work, but the writing is on the wall. Those long legs, the appetite. I'm delighted he's growing as he should, but still...

I'm going to miss some things about my little guy.

Funny thing is that he's not tall for his age, but for years people meeting him for the first time regularly comment, "Oh, a tall guy, I thought he was [add a couple of years to his age]." I don't know if it's because he's slim, or because he speaks so maturely. One of those ponder-them-in-my-heart things, I guess.

How The Eggs Got Eaten in Record Time

This was the fastest use-up-the-Easter-eggs-year ever!

My recipe is as follows:

Ingredients:

• 1 Husband
• 1 Son
• 1 digital camera
• 3-4 Easter eggs
• Mayonnaise
• Grey Poupon mustard
• Salt
• Sliced frozen bagels
• Buttery spread of your choice

Instructions:

1. Neglect to give Husband any breakfast.
2. Ply Son with TV until he is close to stupefied.
3. Take photos of eggs with digital camera.



4. When Husband asks Son if he can eat the eggs, reassure Son you have photos.
5. Look very busy for a few minutes while Husband prepares egg salad with mayo, mustard, salt.
6. Continue to look very busy as Husband toasts bagel slices. When he asks you if you want your buttered, say yes.
7. Appear in time to eat lovingly prepared breakfast and give thanks for your family.

For better recipes and cute games and other egg stuff, go to http://www.incredibleegg.org.

For lots more recipes that are actually recipes, check out the other blog posts for The Parent Bloggers Network's blog blast at http://blog.parentbloggers.com

Boys and Their Dogs

This is my uncle, on the left, and his big brother,
my Dad, with two of their huntin' dogs. (There
is no "g" in "huntin dawg.") Looks like
a Jack Russell and a bloodhound to me; guess
the Beagle Era came later.

It's probably around 1935, that would make my
dad around 10 in this photo. I think they're by
the side of their house in McKean, but they
could be anywhere -- their Uncle's, their
grandparents', and I wouldn't know.

I wonder if each dog belonged to each boy,
or if each was his favorite. I know Grandpa
usually had multiple dogs at a time. I've
never seen another Jack Russell in any of their photos.

Now that I look at it, this photo says a lot
about their personalities. Laine is so
lovingly holding and engaged with the dog
he has, while John is much more focused.
A gentle, caring arm around the dog,
but nowhere near the same joy.

Perceptions of What Was Said

The other day DuckyBoy got to play at the playground after school. When we got home, his Dad asked, "Was anybody good at the playground?"

To which DuckyBoy responded, "Ye-es, everybody was good!"

They were having two different conversations, and I knew it, so I stepped in to translate.

Dad meant, "Was there anybody that you wanted to play with?"
and DuckyBoy answered, "Everyone was behaving well!"

No wonder my brains is always tired.

Zoo Haiku

Great day at the zoo,
Two days in a row no less,
I so love this kid.

I had another haiku that had lemurs in it that we made up yesterday...hmmm... this isn't it but at least it can represent.

Lemurs in New York,
Taking over the whole place...
please come visit Queens!

DuckyBoy and I had such a good day, yesterday and today, at the Bronx Zoo. The last time we were there he spent more time looking at one specific fire hydrant than at any of the animals. This time, he loved the Children's Zoo and the Madagascar exhibit.

Quiet Is Good But...

I miss DuckyBoy. He's at his grandparents since last night, we get him tomorrow. We had a great time with them on Easter, Husband made an awesome scallops-with-cauliflower-puree appetizer and also herb-cruster lamb. He's channeling Gordon Ramsay, how sexy is that!

Anyway. Usually when we're kid-free I can relax and let loose. This time I feel more, well, uptight. Wanted him to stay at Grandma's so I could work today, that's not exactly a recipe for footloose and fancy-free.

We did go out tonight and hit 2 Happy Hour specials PLUS a movie- woohoo!

I do like the quiet. But I miss my little guy.

The Jig Is Up, Easter Bunny

DuckyBoy in the seasonal aisle at CVS this afternoon:

"Hey! This is all the same stuff the Easter Bunny brings!"

Haiku Friday: Time for ???

Hey, it's Friday and I'm not too blue to haiku!

Whether or not the men in my life give me enough time to formulate one is another story...

I should be working
on our joint business venture
but it's spring break, dude!

I'm always on break --
or at least I can be it seems.
I should be working.

I'm 3 hours short
on one of my project plans,
One on another.

But way over time
on blogging--imagine that?
Guess what I enjoy.

Have to color eggs
And DB needs a haircut.
Play catch-up next week?

Maybe with some help
from a fave sitter or two --
is it worth the cost?

Hard to justify
the expense without income.
The TV is free...

But not without costs
to DB's mood for the day;
Inverse proportion:

TV time goes up,
his mood goes right down after
about an hour.

(Is "hour" one syllable or 2?)

Meet the Cockroaches

Here are Max (on log) and Rosie.
The Madagascar Hissing Cockroaches
that are more like beetles, that is.
Our science teacher told me these are the
bugs used in movies when they want really creepy bugs.

The Cockroaches Are Coming

Madagascar Hissing Cockroaches, actually. Which apparently are socially and hygienically more like beetles than cockroaches but have an unfortunately genetic similarities that saddles them with an off-putting moniker.

Apparently no one else is willing to take them home for Spring break, so DuckyBoy is delighted to babysit these class pets from the other 1st grade Nest class.

We're all looking forward to it... ulp...

What's the Plan Here?

Lately I find I have much more to talk about on my other blog about DuckyBoy's school issues, like his struggles to keep his desk clean.

Actually it may not be that I have so much more to say but it's easier to talk about him than the jumble in my head about everything else. I'm excited about a new client but ambivalent about the potential success of the business long-term and therefore the amount of time I put in each day toward the rest of the business.

What I really want is an 8-to-2 job in Queens that pays at least $60k. Oh, prferably 4 days so I cans till volunteer at DB's school library on Fridays. Is that so impossible? Aren't all things possible with God?

Ah, God. I just don't know where God wants me right now. feel like the phone is silent, except for messages that keep saying "Trust God, lean on God." I want to say, "To do what? To go where? What is the plan here?" I hear mixed messages from the people in my house, specifically, "Take care of us and nothing else" but "Take care of ME not him," and also, "We want you to be happy." Um, guys? That's not working so well.

I'm all over the place -- haven't yet posted here that I'm going to BlogHer in July, but since I've got conference tickets and a hotel room at this point, I guess I'm committed!

Between now and then I've got a website to help get written and running, and a half-day seminar to prepare for.

I did some figuring yesterday and scribbled numbers of hours on a calendar to make sure I get everything done in time.

Was that ever eye-opening!

Turns out I don't have to spend the amount of time I kept giving lip service to ("Oh, yes, dear, I can put in 12 hours on this!!") to get it done with plenty of revision and meeting time built in, but I do need to sit at this desk more often if I want to post, read blogs, keep up with my emails, AND work on this business. (And be done when DB gets home from school and still go to the library on Fridays.)

It's good to know. Better than the vague explanse of empty time that stretched out before.

Wish me luck!