Lemonade stand that raised them 36 bucks, not bad :).

150 year old Japanse Maple at Greenwood Cemetary.  Fascinating place with loads of stories.

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At the zoo with Fynn’s class …

More getting out than books going on these days, which is good.  I’ve been battling comptuer problems for weeks, I think I’ve got it functional for now.  Tired and badly in need of getting away myself, plotting on that on several fronts. 

i love having d home.  i really do, and not just because our days are less scheduled.  we go just about everywhere together.  he’s helpful, fun, crazy, and only drives me nuts about 12 times a day.  that’s spread out over the whole day, rather than starting the minute he walks in the door from school.  that means we’re having a lot more good times together, upping the ratio of good/lousy considerably.  i like this.  he likes this too i believe.

it’s going to take time to adjust fully though.  a lot of time.  he misses school.  i do miss free time, but am not missing it nearly as much as expected.  my friend s was over yesterday, saw the look in my eyes and asked if i was stir crazy.  i was, but hadn’t realized it.  strange, i’m usually so aware of that, but the kind of crazy and the kind of stir has changed.  she took my kids home with her for a couple of hours, and i got in a run (something that’s been suffering quite a bit) and started dinner on my own.  m happens to be painting her house, so brought the kids home after a pizza dinner, by which time i was already on my way downtown to see How to Train a Dragon. 

that was good.  coming home to find out our landlord gave us the wrong receipt a few months back, and we believed it and assumed we owed a lot less than we do?  not good for my psyche.  how does one ignore yawning pits at ones feet?  they’ve never failed to be filled, we’ve never gone hungry, and never been homeless.  i don’t know why i worry, but i still do. 

there’s beans with garlic simmering on the stove, iced tea brewing in the gorgeous sun, and a breeze coming in the wide open windows.  i’m working on my attitude. 

i will post her occasionally, as i feel like it, but not as regularly as over here.  i’m trying to be more open over there, as i manage to make tiny cracks in the shell. 

Florida was great.  More pics are here.  Douglas turned 8, some sun was found, training kept mostly on track, internet was left behind, and boys did pretty well together.  It was a good break. 

As usual I’m home with the desire to not go back to what I left, but keep the relaxation alive, and the internet-time at a minimum.  This is hard to do.  Very hard.  Once again I waffle on combining this blog with my other one, and getting more personal in the process.  I’m tired of obligations that I’ve created, I’m a pro at that.  I’m enjoying homeschooling for the most part, and resent the things that glue me to the computer.  I have a newsletter to write, D is addressing letters, and F is sleeping.  I must take advantage of the quiet hour.  I’ll be back sometime. 

ps.  This?  Is atrocious, worse than anything I’ve ever seen on the subject of marital relations.  Bad on so many levels. 

i know it’s right, but i can’t express why very articulately.  i’m getting blank stares from most parents that i talk to in person, a resounding silence in response to the email i sent to his class parents, and an amazingly supportive response from the teachers and administrators at his school. 

this is the image he drew for the card he wanted to give to his classmates today, with his name and contact info on it.  tractor beams and aliens and tanks, the currency of 7-year-old imaginations.  i think i’ll be more well-versed in that language in a few weeks, i’ll let you know how it goes. 

Grambie Rotten Kid Rule and I?  I can’t even begin to tell you how much she means to me.  I’ve always had her in my life.  Babysitting me as a child, making popcorn and letting me listen to Bill Cosby records.  Sewing tiny doll clothes, dresses for me, and then finishing anything that I started to sew on my own but inevitably got hung up on.  Burying my head in her lap, digging through her bottomless purse during church and sucking on the tiny fruit candies she always had in a tin.  Watching her fold her handkerchief into babies in a cradle.  Listening to her stories of growing up in Kansas City, about being a tomboy until she had to take on responsibilities too young.  Knowing in my heart that I was a lot like her, that the love we share had a special fierceness to it.  I’m afraid of that fierceness fading, and not being able to put my head in the lap of the bird she’s becoming.  Of being lost to her. 

She asked me years ago, when she was about to go into a home and lose her car (which equalled freedom and life to her) for permission to go.  Somehow I knew she was going to ask and had prepared myself to give it to her, which I did.  Watching her go slowly, fading a bit with each conversation and visit?  I didn’t expect that, nor did I realize how it would feel.  So I mourn her life before she’s left it, and wonder if this is the year.  She’s 93, I’m 39, and I still love her so fiercely it hurts. 

Cross posted over here.  Photo featured over here.

we went on a cruise.  one night, down the hudson and past Long Island, and had a wonderful time.  thx to my sis and her hubby.  great to get away, see the sunset AND sunrise across the city, eat at 3 restaurants, and have time to just be.  a few things came out, and peace with decisions was deepened. 

particularly the decision to homeschool douglas, starting in just under 3 weeks (at the winter break).  primarily me.  fynn to hopefully stay in school until the end of the year, though we’re months behind on his tuition.  they’re being helpful and flexible, so we’ll see.  not a light decision though we’ve tossed it around for ages.  not in response to a terrible school either.  pretty much in response to watching his change in demeanor, sensing a shift in my relationship to him, and god kicking me in the butt and whispering “take him out now, or lose him.”  i can’t tell you why, really, just that despite the obvious potential issues with patience and freedom and personalities, i have no doubts about it.  just that it will be hard, with potential for great joy and great challenge. 

a piece of it involves me dropping the last bits of feeling like i must bring in money, even though logic dictates that i must.  i can’t work much and still focus on my kids like i have to, and indeed want to.  i didn’t want to for a long time.  not exclusively.  i do now, within reason.  meaning i still need time alone, to run, etc and have no intention of giving up my other blog unless it proves to be too big a time hog.  i’m not a good mother when i work.  at all.  

i’m looking forward to the change.  i need prayer for patience and realistic attitudes about it.  ironically, the social aspect of his school is the best it’s ever been, and i feel more at home there than i ever have.  there will be tears.  i talk to his teacher tomorrow, to launch the ball.  i’ve said for years that it’s never time to leave a place until it really hurts.  this will be no exception.   

i’ll still post, and actually finding so far that daily writing is making me want to write more. 

still simmering a lot, but not able yet to even put my finger on why. 

d had a hysteria-induced breathing episode tonight (athsma attack?  something along those lines anyhow) that was triggered by being overtired, mockingly talking about god when i said it was time to pray, and getting disciplined for it.  have an ongoing issue with mockery with him, and been consistently dealing with it as a serious issue, which i believe it is.  ended up trying relaxation exercises, steam bath with essential oils, and then an old albuterol inhaler that i had from fynn’s breathing problems.  i honestly think the triggers to it are psychological, but don’t want to downplay the physical problems that result either.  he has an appt with his homeopath in a couple weeks, and i’m curious what will come of that. 

been doing a lot of cleaning lately, of the organizing and digging out the cracks kind.  house smells a lot better (fabulous at the moment actually as i have chicken stock simmering, D/A have soup simmering), and it’s making me hungry again.  when i can’t get my mind wrapped around something, cleaning is often therapy, and the physical organization tends to clarify my mental drawers too.  so does running, at which i’ve been woefully lax lately.  hard to get dressed/out when it’s so cold, but it’s more the why-bother-i-have-no-goal sort of thing.  got one yesterday though, when i realized (thanks to my bank acct dipping even further) that i got into the nyc half marathon on mar 21.  looking fwd to it muchly, as it’s a route that is far more interesting than circling central park, which i’ve gotten sick of.  it’s one lap there, then down thru times square and the rest of mid/downtown, into Battery park.  so i have some motivation, hoping it’s enough.  my body misses it, much like i missed my period when i was nursing fynn.  it’s emotionally cleansing, and i need a lot of that right now. 

house is blissfully quiet, going to go try on some clothes i was sent and see what to keep.  i think music is in order.