After the boys headed out for school, Meera had a chance to try out her “sled-board” with Niomi. Sometimes it doesn’t matter there isn’t really enough snow to sled; it’s all in the experience of it. Not sure Niomi had the same experience Meera did however.
Sometimes you have to just let things unfold. And when you do, it can be wonderful.
Catching up on research. Students carrying a keyboard into the lodge. Boys asking to play soccer. After a “stress relieving” game, discovering the piano leading to hanging out and playing four hands (or at least an 8-year old’s version, which includes sticking hands into the piano).
Learning to blend work with life: for us, for students; as a role model.
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Sometimes an impromptu transcends.
Snapped after hopping off the bus in Bethlehem.
These four glass sculptors have a new fan club. Many ooh’s and ahhh’s as they melted glass, blew bubbles into the glass, twisted, cut, blowtorched and created amazing Glass Christmas Trees.
Initially jaded and cynical artists, by the end they were standing at the rope pointing out all the different kinds of things they could do with the melted glass. Telling the boys about the temperature. Telling me about their kids and how many sculptures they have to make for the upcoming season.
Local artisans. Love it. Kids loved it.
Kyle is our intuitive thinker, our noticer – our observer who sees something and days later will discuss it in depth while pulling in unrelated details that create an entire picture. We’ve gotten used to his making an announcement that seems to be a total non-sequitor, out of the blue, and apparently random, despite the fact that he’s been thinking about whatever it is for however long he has been thinking about it.
So, when he brought up wanting to go to Taco Bell, we just kind of rolled with it. Then it came up a few times. He was trying to understand whether they have burritos, or what exactly – it was a mystery (kind of like the meat there), but we knew it was serious.
Heather has never been to Taco Bell, and I rather think she never will. Based on our food preferences, it’s not a total surprise. However, for me as a teen, Taco Bell was an sad staple. 25 years later I remember the details: 2 soft tacos, medium Dr. Pepper and cinnamon twists for $3.15.
Thus we thought this First Friday would be a good one for Kyle and I to go to Taco Bell. This First Friday would also be a trip down Memory Lane me.
Before we hit taco bell, we stopped for find a birthday gift for Heather. In typical Kyle fashion, the day before, he whispered in my ear “Papi, I have a great idea for a birthday present for Mommy”. They had been at Target and Heather had commented on a bag she liked – he didn’t say anything to her, instead waiting to tell me. What a sweetie pie. So Target was our first stop at Kyle’s request.
Then to Taco Bell. Before we went in, he was acting a little strange. I asked him what was going on – he told me he was a little nervous he wouldn’t like it. I told him not to worry, that if he didn’t we could go somewhere else. That eased his fear.
He loved it.
And so did I.
I think we’ll be back.
We have been reading the Livesay Haiti Weblog for years. This video contains a question from Kyle and Owen for Isaac Livesay’s summer project — “Ask Isaac” (click here). In case you are in need translation after watching, here it is in writing–
“Dear Isaac: We were adopted just like you. We were born in Haiti. We are 8 years old. We live in Pennsylvania in the United States. Someday (hopefully pretty soon!) we want to go back to Haiti to visit. What is your advice for what we should be sure to definitely do while we are there!? Also, we’d be thrilled if we could meet you when we come to Haiti! Love, Kyle and Owen Johnson-McCormick.”
This past summer Meera and I had our First Friday with a picnic at a fountain she could play in. When we go by there now she often comments on it and how fun it was. Or maybe I just remember it that way: sitting with her playing and our enjoying it so much.
Six months – and seemingly a lifetime for a three year old – time stops for nobody – it’s First Friday for us. And with six months comes a whole lot more fancy. So we dressed up for the occasion.
When you get that dressed up, and you’re three, you start to worry that we might be leaving for a long time and you start to worry and start to miss mommy. But knowing that there is going to be great dessert makes it alright. That and assurance we’re coming home and a hug.
At our favorite French-Thai restaurant in Bethlehem – The Cafe – we had the place to ourselves. They waited on us hand and foot. And despite the down-to-earthness of the attentive staff, it was fancy.
For Meera, it was the glasses that made it fancy (since she had white rice and steamed veggies).
For me it was the Tom Yum, the chicken satay,
and green curry.
But really the food was unimportant compared to being scared by the “broccoli monster”.
After a while, my sweet, smart, pretty and adorable girl
Starting missing mommy.
But with a hug, it was finally, at long last, time for dessert. And everything was ok. Which you’d have to eat to fully understand how that can be.
The sweetest part was driving home having had a fancy First Friday with my daughter.
Will post soon about our week-between-Christmas-and-New-Year, our New Year’s Eve, and our January 1! We have been relishing these past few days of out-with-the-old-and-in-with-the-new, reflecting a bit on the past, and getting psyched up for lots coming up in the new year (oh boy do we have some excitement brewing!!!). In the meantime, here is Meera, with the months of the year (click play)! Lots to come in the upcoming 12 months of 2012! Happy New Year!!!
Heather is out interviewing candidates for the department, so I am home with the three. Tonight I asked the boys to help get Meera ready (thinking it would be more hassle, but a good exercise), and they did great – totally brushed her teeth, washed her face, then got her PJ’s on. Unbelievably amazing.
While getting Meera’s PJ’s on, I overheard this little conversation:
Meera: Owen, what are you going to be when you grow up?
Owen: A spaceman. What are you going to be?
Meera: A pony rider.
Owen: Oh!
Between the “terrible three’s” (since it seems to happen at three for us and not two) and having a cold, cough and ear infection, Meera has been visting Tantrum city regularly. Owen expressed it perfectly. Translation below.
For Meera
You drive us nuts… but we
Still Love [you] like baby cake[s]
I will read you a book!
Love, Owen
And that’s exactly what he did after dinner; went up stairs, and after getting ready for bed, read her The Berenstain Bears: Thunderbolt
Growing up, Heather had long blond hair that her mother braided. I have seen many pictures of her with two adorable braids and a cute little smile. Behind the scenes there was a lot of interesting brushing of hair to get those braids to look that way…. But beyond cuteness.
With Kyle and Owen, before they had locs we did braids. Or more accurately, Heather did and I supported. We both did twists and did a lot lot lot of twisting. Although Heather rightfully claims ownership over doing their locs, we both redo them with the latch hooks.
However, when it comes to little girl, golden wavy hair…. Not so much practice for me, as evidenced by the photo. But Meera wanted a braid. Just one, with no pony tail on top (thankfully, since that was not in the cards anyway). That braid lasted until our attempted nap time today.
I have found that over the past couple days that something interesting has happened to me and to our kids. I have let go of much of my work stress in a way I don’t often do and my kids are responding to me in a way that they don’t often to.
There is a lesson here clearly and one I feel I’ve learned before, although not well enough. It’s not just spending time with our kids. It not just having fun with them. It’s not just being the parent at the end of the day.
It’s also picking up the mess they leave behind every waking moment. It’s dealing with “I’m hungry” as they climb into bed. It’s determining when to give time out for talking back, for hitting, or being nasty (yes they do that).
It’s having them know that you’re there, them trusting that and calling you when they need you and when they don’t.
It’s giving a hug when Meera wakes up this morning and says “I miss mommy”.
It’s being proud of Owen for reading even when you’re pissed off that he is bouncing up and down while reading.
It’s letting Kyle talk and hearing him despite the fact that he’s talking about some concoction that you can’t even understand what he’s saying or what it means.
It’s about braiding your daughter’s hair, even when that just makes it look worse.
Heather is out of town at a conference this weekend and I am home with everyone. Although we work hard to have an equal relationship, sadly, it’s not. The home stuff is tipped very much, if not fully on to Heather’s plate (and the financial management on mine) We can talk all day long (and do and have and will) about how this happens, why it is, why and how it’s wrong and what we can and can’t do about it. And in the course of that, the kids have to be fed, bathed, clothed, planned for, disciplined and all the other myriad things that have to be done.
All this is to say, that it’s a bigger deal for our family when Heather travels than when I travel. In many ways.
But we are doing well here. We had a great day and while it’s clear all three kids and the husband are missing mommy/Heather, we had fun, got along great and even managed to fit in a trip to get ice cream.
Unfortunately, my camera acumen suffered tremendously today, and all I captured was this…
Coming down the slide from the Castle Playground in Doylestown today. The boys found some other boys to play tag with, Meera played hide and seek with me (and for some unknown reason, while running around inside the castle playground, insisted on calling me “daddy”, which was kinda funny and odd), while I somehow managed to fit myself through the maze inside this structure, which is really a ton of fun.
Tomorrow is bike riding and grocery store, which is sure to be interesting. I have forgotten (or maybe I never really knew) what it’s like to be fully responsible for these three and it’s tough. But it’s also really great and satisfying. Granted, I don’t have to worry about planning anything, so that makes it a whole world easier, and it’s only of the weekend, and it makes me realize more of what Heather is contending with on a daily basis (and by extension many career mothers I believe) and I still appreciate a sense of feeling like a more empowered parent, which is good.
Please don’t rain tomorrow….
A gentle breeze over the water, cool and fresh; the sound of laughter. Cottage screen-door slap-cracks against the jamb, down old stone steps, one, two, feet in splash, brisk, but not bad. Better to fly off the end of the dock, slight jolt; swim to first rock, then second. Catch the laughter before it drifts away.
Just the quiet boat rocking when the motor is cut; hints of being vulnerable in the face of such a lake. The water is wide, deep and clear, the bottom is down there somewhere, a little scary. Head-first in, over the side. Heads bobbing up. Over the side, again. Can the boys really be only seven? Can she really be only three? Towel off, quick, it’s cold in the breeze. We don’t drift too far in the wind; the motor starts without any problem.
Casting far out, but if you look close, the fish are under the dock. Hold still, it’s about to bite. Do we keep it and eat it; it’s big? Throw it back. Tears to let it go, but happy to free it too. Ten more fish caught, all released. We try to figure out how long a fish memory is – will we catch the same ones next year?
Catching the Mountain Washington DC. Mini-golf, go karts, Weirs. It’s a high fly ball to center field; sun drenched from the day. Sitting on laps for a first-ever night game on TV. It’s a loss for the Red Sox, but a win for us all.
Lunch, dinner, lobsters and sweet corn. Wine, water, juice. Sustenance, a break from the daily grind of food prep for Heather. Bacon and pan-friend english muffins for breakfast. S’mores at night, ice cream in Wolfeboro across the lake. Coffee whenever. Grace.
There were recent updates, but it’s still the cottage. There is a dishwasher now, and even a washer in the basement. The stone fireplace is marked 1941, handcrafted like the one outside. Like the foundation of the cottage.
The evolution of many years, and generations of hands, but it still feels the same. Fun, lightness. Grounding, healing. A wholeness we struggle to maintain in our daily lives. A reminder of how we love, of how we live. Of how lucky we are. Lift the porch windows, let the breeze in. Gratitude.
The work goes on; on the backs of work done before us. The work of ensuring that places of healing continue to be a strong presence in our lives. Reminders of who we want to be when the rest falls away.
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