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Thursday
Sep092010

Dramatic Play

I've been thinking about making a puppet theater for the kids for Christmas this year, but I'm not really good with a hammer and nail (and other such objects required for fashioning things out of wood) and I'm also worried about taking up space. This house has 1 more bedroom than our last apartment but nearly 400 less square feet so there really aren't any more places to put toys. (First world problem, yes, I know.)

Anyway, both boys seem to be getting into dramatic play a little more and I'm kind of desperate to move on from THOMAS! THOMAS! ALL! THE! TIME! Our local library has a puppet collection that is available for checkout and I've been spending a lot of time anthropomorphizing various stuffed animals.

If only there were a way to make something cute and functional, but space-saving and maybe even transportable!

Doorway Puppet Theatre from CoolSpacesForKids via Hip Hip Hooray

How cute of an idea is that?

And what about this, also from the same shop:

Gah!

The boys have constantly been building "forts" lately. This would be so perfect! Except that half the fun and usefulness of fort building is finding different materials around the house, constructing a haphazard, structurally unsound hideaway and knowing you built it all by yourself. It doesn't matter if it is threatening to collapse on you everytime you move; in fact, that's what they're supposed to do!

So maybe just the puppet theater. Besides, the tablecloth looks like it would be a much more complicated endeavor to hack.

Wednesday
Sep082010

A welcome on the first day of Fall

It's grey today; Autumn descended suddenly in the chill night. We woke and assumed the grey hue was simple morning mist, the ocean fog coming through the canyon and wafting in a thick layer around our houses. We're not accustomed to changes in the weather here where sunny is default and unassuming rainstorms cause devastation due to infrequency. Yesterday it was still warm, on Monday we went hiking and basked in the summer heat and worried about mosquitos breeding in the creek, two weeks ago we hid in our air-conditioned house avoiding the 100-degree temperatures. And today - today it is Fall. Extra layers in the morning for preschool, layers that don't come off even after lunch when the sun should be out in all its hot glory, and pajamas and extra blankets for naptime instead of t-shirts and diapers and long skinny legs pushing away thin coverings.

It is fall and it is wonderful.

Wednesday
Sep082010

This Week's Menu

Monday - miyukguk, bap

Tuesday - vegetable mandu, bap, leftover miyukguk

Wednesday - spagetti, roasted brocolli, salad

Thursday - beef stew, bread, salad

Friday - pizza

I've been reading Jane Eyre this week for class and even though it's probably the fifth time I've read it, I've been so totally absorbed in it to the exclusion of almost everything else. (Isn't Jane just so wonderful?) This is why I stopped reading novels after having kids. But I've had at least a tad bit more self-control than usual. My other class's reading this week was Hegel's master-slave dialectic, which made no sense, and part of his lectures on art, which made a tad bit more sense. Mostly though, I feel dense and confused.

I've yet to go grocery shopping this week. The boys' breakfast this morning consisted of sesame seed butter (like peanut butter) on toast. C wanted milk, but there was none. Then he asked for an egg (we usually have a hard-boiled egg every morning), but again we had no more. How about a banana, he asked. Nope, sorry.

So to market I go.

Friday
Sep032010

The New Routine, Part 2

I'm testing out sending K to preschool with C once a week. He's so little and I was so ambivalent about it. This week was a sort of orientation week where all the children were encouraged to come for 3 days straight for just a few hours. On the first day, he gave me a kiss and a hug and then ran off leaving his older brother to wave goodbye to me at the gate. Today and yesterday, I gave him the choice to go or stay with me and both times he wavered only for a short moment ("I want to stay with Mommy.") before changing his mind ("I want to go to school. Play in sandbox. Play with C."). At drop-off his lower lip would momentarily quiver ("I want Mommy!"), and I would comfort him ("I know baby. Mommy will come back later.") and C would reassure him ("Mommy's leaving but I will be here K! I will be with you the whole time.") (oh my big-hearted boy!) and K would recover, give me a kiss and a hug and stand next to C, both waving happily to me through the gate.

Wednesday and Thursday I spent the few hours at a coffee shop studying, but this morning I came home and made myself breakfast. When was the last time I made breakfast for myself? Alone? And ate, alone? And was at home, in this suddenly big, quiet home, alone? Eggs with cheese, I even remembered the salt and pepper, fried toast and avocado, tea and sugar and water, a book, all just for myself, alone.

By the time I finished breakfast, puttered around the internet for a bit, talked to Yubo on the phone, it was time to go pick them up.

Thursday
Sep022010

The New Routine

As the adrenaline and excitement of starting classes is starting to give way to a new routine, I find myself a little taken aback at how much my day-to-day life has changed in such a short time. Every moment that I'm not actively caring for the kids or sleeping or cooking or cleaning or driving, I'm reading or writing, highlighter in hand, or otherwise in class. My days have a fullness to them, a happy productivity that feels sadly unfamiliar. I have immediate, attainable goals. I feel motivated or accomplished according to the checks on my syllabus. And that focus has (so far) extended into my time with the children - I feel grateful and present in a way that has lately been difficult for me. It's cliche, but it's true: I feel like I have more to give.

But still, I miss them. As hard as it is sometimes, I am used to being with them nearly all the time. I'm used to arranging my existence around them, to picking up their toys as Yubo reads them their bedtime stories, to kissing them goodnight and comforting them against the coming assult of sleep, to setting their dinner on the table and badgering K to take a bite of his chicken or C to stop whining about the prospect of dessert. Aside from the time that C is in preschool, I am used to being there, with them, all the time.

Yesterday afternoon after Yubo got home, roast chicken in hand, I virtually flew out of the house. The traffic has proved to be worse than I had planned for; I have to leave earlier to get to class on time and yesterday I also had to stop at the bookstore to pick up another book for class. I gave the boys quick kisses while sweeping the legos C has been playing with during nap out of K's curious reach and dumping my laptop and books in my bag. I grabbed my phone and yelled "I love you!" and "Listen to Daddy!" as I ran out the door. I was rushed and relieved to have gotten out in time.

Then somewhere on the 101, idling in traffic, my whole body suddenly ached, just ached, for my boys. It hurt, but in the way that makes you remember how wonderful it is to be alive. It was a good reminder of what I'm giving up to do this, and how much more important that makes it. I absolutely love grad school so far and I am confident that we are all ready for the change. But nevertheless, I miss them, my children. Even in the midst of discussing Kant, my mind drifts back to them, to the curls in their hair, the sweet and silly things they say, how my body physically longs to hold them. Later that night, I come home, walk by their closed door and fight the urge to lay down beside them.