As promised (threatened,) POETRY! It comes with the disclaimer that the most important thing I learned in poetry class this semester is that I'm not a poet. However, I also learned that writing poetry is fun and, well, fun. There are no rules, people! you don't have to use punctuation capitalization prahper spelling you get to make it all up, and it doesn't have to be good to make you feel better.

Incline Terrace

We’re lying
on the side of a hill
in the middle of a city.
One swatch of fresh mown
grass, one small park without a public.
Our inclined oasis. A playground on a fault line.
One rainy afternoon we hid here,
in the open, where no one
would look.
How fearless
we were on the swings,
aiming for those fat raindrops.
Across the street, we learned to play house.
And we claimed this park for dreams
and for watching the sun set.
But now, rather than march home against
the pull of gravity, we will leave behind this mountain of support
and venture into the vast blue together
despite the storm barreling this way.
Did we both see the grey on the horizon, or was it just me?
Either way, I’m glad I’m not alone.
Ahead, the open western sky,
More than the eye can hold without
Breaking the gaze.

A Mother’s Tale

Past

We stood in a long line for that picture.
The kids smiled, unlike some of the others—
they screamed. We were lucky.

When we unpack the decorations
the pictures with Santa will smile up
from the bottom of the box.

Not the tantrum on the way out.
The threats that caused us all to shout
then pout and waste an afternoon.

Present

There are moments,
warm and bright as early summer sunshine,
when it all feels natural as bare feet.

There are entire days,
bracketed by darkness on each end,
when I would give up anything,

even the buttery summer sun,
for the long drawn out peace of my own mind
at rest on the contour of a shadow.

Future

Instincts fierce as any animal and
about as little reason.

Never enough patience, but a never-ending
supply of occasions to try again.

Complete disregard for personal appearance, which
helps when singing in public.

Guaranteed regrets, knowing too late that you had it
good…hard, but good.

Get’cher vote on!

This might be the first time that my personal presidential voting effort counts. My vote never counted in Utah, I was out numbered by the Mormons. In Virginia it’s been the Old White Southern vote vs. the rest of ya’ll. It’s just before 8pm here. We’ll know soon. Either way, taking part in this election has been exciting and a privilege.

Summer’s almost over and I did not get enough salt water. When I’m not by the sea, I dream about the sea. Here’s an ocean piece that I made using a piece of wood from the shed and my kids’ paintings ripped into pieces and collaged.

We were fortunate to get an invitation to spend the weekend on the shore in Beaufort, NC with the Hogans at the home of David’s very generous and hospitable Mom. Thank you Lucy and Barry! When I grow up I want to be just like you: in, on, and by the water. We got even more luck to arrive in Beaufort the same night as the pirate invasion, an annual event in which “pirates” (people who like to drink grog (grog is anything you like to drink!)) gather to reenact the towns’ siege by Black Beard. We dressed up the boys and walked around. They thought they’d died and gone to sword-wielding, argh-snarling heaven. Greta carried a fish around all night long. She’s my pacifist.

Other than our trip to the coast and another to D.C., we’ve been home all summer. I’m ready for school to start. Alex, Greta and I will all head our separate ways for at least a few hours a few times a week. I’m so lucky to have had such an intimate summer with them. I don’t think Alex and Greta would be such good friends with out having been on top of each other for three months. But I’m starting to feel like a three-headed monster. Bring on the books.

We are officially in terrible two territory. Lucky for us, she’s cute. Her hat says “Little Miss Chatterbox” and I cannot think of a more perfect moniker for Greta right now. She starts out talking in the morning, slowly at first, mumbling to herself in her crib about tickling her toes or picking her way through a song she kind of knows. Then, she begins to call for me, Mama, where are you? I’m ready to get up. Still, she sounds sweet and sleepy, but once I pop my head into the room she’s off at break-neck pace, Good morning, mommy. Did you have a good night’s sleep? Are those your pajamas? Is that my milk? I want to lay down on your bed. Cover me up with a blanket. (breath) Where’s Daddy? Is Daddy at work? Did he ride his bike…and so it goes until around eight that night with a two-hour break in the afternoon when she naps. At her two-year check up they asked if she was saying twenty words. I said, yeah, twenty words a minute.

Alex is having a very low-key summer. We signed him up for a couple of camps, but for the most part he’s been hanging around the house being a very good big brother when he’s not begging to watch TV or have a friend over for a play date. We bought a trailer bike to hook on to Jeremy’s commuter bike and with Greta in the bike seat on my old tank we’ve been heading out for family rides the last couple of weeks. Family fun for all and no $4 gasoline!

We’ve had lots of visitors this summer. Shari, Jalyssa and Tavian, Jesse and Sarin. Kimberly and her crew. Between guests and summer school and taking the GRE I’ve still found time to polish a few stories. I’m also working on all of the required pieces for my grad school applications. We have one more trip to the beach in North Carolina planned and maybe another camping trip, but I think August is going to evaporate pretty fast.

Humble ∏

Need to be taken down a notch? Try being an English major taking her first math class since sometime in the mid ’90’s. I’m taking the course condensed over the summer to get it over with as quickly as possible, which means five weeks of math class four nights a week. Ugh. I’m not thrilled, but let’s face it people—I can use the refresher course.

Since my last entry, my computer crashed so this summer I’ll be spending my time retyping the few stories I have hard copies of and trying not to dwell on the stuff that’s lost. I’ll also be taking the GRE in preparation for grad school applications that I’ll send out at Christmas time. See there, I’m already finding use for my new and improved math skills.

Right now I’m retyping and revising my story Sick Day. It’s about a mother home with sick kids for the day, but she’s reflecting on a time a few years ago when she lost it with the kids and took off for the weekend. I’m surprised at how difficult it is to write about ugly mom moments. There are times most days when I’m embarrassed or ashamed by my behavior as a mom, when I said something too mean, too loud, or too short. It’s not easy to talk about them to other people, even other moms, even for made-up moms.

Despite my many flaws, I do manage a few brilliant mom ideas and pulling the small bike out of storage yesterday was one of them. I intended it to be a non-training wheel bike for Alex to practice on, but he seems fine with training wheel life and I couldn't keep Greta off the thing, so Jeremy put back together what I took apart and ta-da - summer fun in the making. It's going to be a busy summer, but I'm ready for camping and playing with the kids.

The dog ate my blog.

Or at least the time I'd spend writing it. That's my latest excuse anyway. I came up with it while adding to the collection of dog hair in the dust pan this afternoon.

I've been an essay writing fool this semester, so even though I haven't been a prolific poster I've been busy composing. However, I'll spare you all my fascinating insights on German national Identity and the ethics of public relations media. You're welcome.

I'm writing this post at the end of a late night writing session. Late night around here = 11:30 pm. Lame, but I do have a meet and greet appointment with Greta and Alex around 6:30 am and days with a one- and six-year-old require a well-reseted mama. I've been working on fleshing out an old story for my fiction writing workshop. For a week I've tossed the old piece around my head, trying to critically pull it apart, find my most typical flaws and at least fix those before passing it around to workshop. I had ideas, insights, but no actual flesh for the fleshing out until I was exercising today. I think it's Natalie Goldberg who recommended driving as a way to regain forward momentum in story. I can add walking to that list.

I've got spring break coming up in a few weeks. Then a visit from my sister, niece, and nephew, and a few weeks later a trip to SLC. With so many excuses to choose from I'll be able to leave the poor dog out of it.

Buon Anno Nuovo!
I’m luxuriating in the four days that will constitute my winter break this year. I decided to save myself the hell of taking two classes over the summer semester (which would mean I’d have class every night of the week for about 4 weeks and two nights a week for an additional six or seven) and signed up for an intersession course – a two week term, six days a week from 9:00 to 1:00. I was looking forward to the break from the house and the chance to switch places with Jeremy for about a week as he was home from work and stayed with the kids. He even did three loads of laundry and one day I came around the corner to see him swiftering the floors. I almost swooned. I said “Oh, my God, you’re swiftering!” To which he replied, “Not funny.” I wasn’t joking.
While it was nice to get out the house for an extended period of time for a much-needed break from domesticity, I missed Greta like crazy. As tough as the stay-at-home-mom gig can get, I feel very lucky to have been able to take care of both Alex and Greta full time in their first two years.
The class I took was American Horror, for which we were required to read a wide range of ghost/monster/creepy short stories, watch films, and read one novel, “I Am Legend” by Richard Matheson. The instructor was great, the literature was too, but some of the movies were a little out of my interest zone, especially the two documentaries we had to watch on the splatter films of the 70’s and 80’s. Disgustoso! I did, however, get to watch “Invasion of the Body Snatchers” and “The Thing” for the first time. What fantastic films. I can’t believe I’d never seen them. It was an intense course. I basically sat in class all day, came home, fed the kids, put them to bed and read all night and got up in the morning to start all over. And one weird side note: the entire time I was studying and reading of the horrific and terrible, Greta had nightmares and woke up screaming almost every night. Coincidence?
Now I’m faced with a house that is covered in miniature tumbleweeds of dog hair and a notebook that hasn’t been touched in a very long time. December was a crazy month. Greta was teething for most of it, then she got an ear infection and chest cold. Christmas came and went in a blur and as soon as it was over, literally – 12:15 am Christmas night – the stomach flu hit and made it’s way through the family. Now that I’m done with class (for a few days) and everyone is back to health, work, and school I have a few minutes of down time to catch up on the various things I enjoy, but that otherwise serve no practical need – unless you consider sanity practical. As a mom of two and a full time student, as long as I’m not muttering to myself loud enough for others to hear, I call it sane.
I hope everyone is off to a good start in 2008. I’m looking forward to a busy, but stimulating semester. Maybe I’ll even find the inspiration to keep this thing regular since I have a writing class on the schedule.