Into the Woods

Getting ready for vacation is so much different than it used to be. Rob, Scarlett, Otto and I are in Calistoga for the week, a nice drive less than two hours from our house. In short, the perfect,  easy summer trip. But here is a snapshot of our family getting ready this morning:

My sister is over to help me shower. Rob is loading medical devices into the mobility van. Scarlett and her cousin Jack are reading together on the couch, until reading turns into kicking, which turns into yelling, which turns into falling on the floor, which somehow turns into doing a puzzle together. Otto takes this opportunity to climb onto a piece of furniture that is not dog approved. I notice, but say nothing. I am annoyed at my helplessness, my inability to get this act together. The prep takes hours, even though Scarlett packed her own bag, and my assistant set out all my clothes the day before.

My sister cleans out the fridge, and then helps me pack my medicine and a bag of makeup that will never grace my face. But why not bring it? Then we’re finally in the car, looking once again like the Beverly Hillbillies. Read More>

|Categories: Life, Progression, Relationships | Tags: , | Permalink

Here Comes the Sun

It’s a dreary morning in my head and out my window. The sky is so white with fog that I feel like I’m trapped inside a snow globe. Our outdoor furniture is dirty, the white chairs leaning against a red table, water drifting down their backs in slimy lines that pool at the bottom and speckle the chairs black. San Francisco summer.

It hasn’t been like this every day. Usually, the sun pops through, and turns the yard into a griddle, but I never wear sunscreen because I just feel like I have bigger things to concern myself with. So most days I sit  outside and sizzle my face a little more and try to meditate without concentrating on how shallow my breathing has become.

But on a wet and cloudy day, there are just windows for watchers, and that’s what I am. I can see seagulls flying over the ocean. I can see Otto pacing back and forth on the deck, head down sniffing at something through the wooden boards. When he sees me watching, he comes to beg at the door,  but there’s nothing I can do for him, and he wanders away.

The gloomy day either fits my gloomy mood or is the cause of it. It’s one of those days when Rob and Scarlett walked out the door and I felt like I had nothing left. Don’t feel sorry for me: first of all, I hate that, and second, I’m halfway through a cup of tea and I’m pretty sure there’s an attitude adjustment lying at the bottom of it. Read More>

|Categories: Life, Meditation, Venting | Tags: , , | Permalink

Language of Life

Otto, our now 11-week-old puppy, was sick last week, with some kind of rash on his neck and a vomiting problem. We feed him healthy dog food that comes from a reputable store, yet he still insists on eating leaves, sticks, feces and winged insects in the backyard. I get it, he’s a dog, and there’s not much you can do about his dietary predilections. “Don’t eat that bee!”, for example, proved to be ineffective.

But Scarlett was really grossed out by his throwing up. “IF I hear him making that sound one more time like this,” she announced, making a gagging sound herself, “I will completely lose it.”

I don’t think I talk like that. In fact, I often suspect she gets most of her vocabulary and phrasing from the books that we read. But per-haps her dramatic flair and penchant for hyperbole do come from me. My husband is a pretty calm person. You can make him mad (and, in case anyone is curious, I know exactly how to do that), but for the most part he’s even-keeled and takes things in stride. Thus far, those qualities do not seem to have rubbed off on our daughter.

“I’m mad at you,” she’ll inform me, after watching two episodes of the Care Bears on our giant TV. “You never let me have anything, and this behavior is unacceptable.” This is because I said no to gum. Read More>

|Categories: Life, Parenting, Relationships | Tags: , , | Permalink