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September 30, 2005
Fall
Austin awoke and fell back to sleep again tonight under the clouds; it was invigorating. It was the first noticeable cold front of the season. Please do not notice that I was taking this picture while driving.
Ford has a new piece of jewelry, the hydroxide molecule ring. Actually, it's a small keyring with, oh, I don't know, some sort of ball attached to it. Something like that. And I wasn't driving when I took this picture, I was at a stoplight. Anyway, he removed it from a little chotchkie that Damon brought home, put it on his finger, and asked me what kind of molecule it looked like. Ford is into molecular models, atomic models, skeletal models. I can thank Bill Nye. Thank you, Bill Nye! You rock! Except when Ford is bouncing off the furniture at 4pm, when I am so very tired in the afternoon, proclaiming (no, shouting) that he is an electron. But it was very cute when he dissected his birthday balloons into protons and neutrons. Of course, the whole bunch of them was the nucleus. Thank you, Bill Nye!
The last of the Gayfeather is in bloom, but most has gone to seed and left to drape the new stars:... 
the grasses.
The Muscadines are ripe,
and the Beautyberries are shouting.
Posted by Steph at 09:23 AM | Comments (0)
September 29, 2005
Chas is no longer satisfied with the way crayons and paints taste; now, he is interested in their use as tools. Fingerpaints are in order, although he tends to dislike using materials and tools in ways that are different from his older brother.
Yet, in so many ways, Chas is very different from Ford. Today I suffered multiple minor heart attacks as I caught Chas atop various perches, each time rescuing him from a fall: The back deck has a seat-railing around the perimeter, and he is able to climb atop the railing and prepare for launch off the other side (and down five feet to impale himself on juniper-cedar bramble). For example.
I am frustrated that we can't pile the kids into the Airstream and drive up East for the next few months. I had more serenity back then: the cabinets were impossible for a child to open, there were no "dropoffs," everything was so...ship shape. Eighty square feet of control. Minimal cleanup. Simple. Irresponsible. So much less baggage than just the two images below, in and of themselves:
The piece of land, our whole quarter acre of it--I'm so overwhelmed with that right now, I can only sit in my car to photograph it, let alone walk up to a rock on site and watch the sun set, or plant a few Cinderella pumpkin seeds in the middle of summer, or place a few good luck totems around here and there. Something about the land is haunting me and I can't put my finger on it. Am I just rebelling? Not enough shade? Too many fire ants? Burrs? Mosquitoes? Slippery kaliche on the walk down? Not enough privacy to enjoy a few minutes of meditation, what with the big peach McMansion next door? I'm disappointed that I'm just not clicking with the property, even though we've had it for a few months, now.
Posted by Steph at 10:45 PM | Comments (0)
September 28, 2005
Chas enjoys nesting. He would remove this Plumeria if he could, that he might better fit into this pot. Other vessels are emptied and sat in: boxes of Matchbox cars, sit-atop dumptruck buckets, frisbees, booster seats, magazines, wrapping paper, board game boxes...
I am returning to painting and using Ford's art supplies when he isn't looking. Thinking of Hamilton Pool, where we immersed on Sunday when it was 107 degrees outside.
Posted by Steph at 04:28 PM | Comments (0)
September 27, 2005
Self Portrait Tuesday
A picture of Ford and I at a private beach in Rhode Island, summer of 2002. We had fun arranging and eating large round rocks. Aside from the cheesy Hallmark symbolism (you know, time slipping through our fingers yeah yeah yeah), I like this picture because if the Mork reference. Naa noo Naa noo, I wore jeans with rainbow suspenders in third grade. No, really, I did.
Ford officially turned four tonight at 8:11pm. Which means that tonight is also the fourth anniversary of Star Trek Enterprise. I am somewhat embarrassed to say I was actually watching the show's premier during active labor. How luxurious! compared to the Holy Visceral UnMedicated Shriekfest of Chas' birth.
Posted by Steph at 01:43 PM | Comments (0)
Today is dry and baking hot outside. We have had five consecutive months of heat. While this may sound like nearly half a year, it feels like it has been a mere two months because there is no other way (correction: no cheaper way) to endure the heat than to deny it. See? Isn't heat FUN?!
update: according to the nightly news, the temperature outside today was 108 degrees Farenheit.
Posted by Steph at 05:18 AM | Comments (0)
September 26, 2005
Katrina-Rita Donations of the Handmade Variety
Every night the past three days, as I've read Reeve Lindbergh's book (beautifully illustrated by Jill McElmurry) entitled Our Nest, I've reflected on our health and good fortune to have each other and a home to return to each day, when we are tired and weary.
I don't know if this blog entry will reach many people, but if you read this and have three to five hours of free time this month, I have found a wonderful way to share some skill and love with the evacuees and their children, who have very little "nest" to speak of. It's a project called The Linus Connection and the mission is to "provide a handmade security blanket to every child who is in a crisis or at-risk situation in Central Texas." If we are able to meet the basic needs of the evacuees, I think this would be a loving addition to the effort to help mend lives and offer warmth.
Austin's News 8 featured this initiative a while back. To describe one benefit of the mission, founder Stephanie Sabatini offers:
"What we’re trying to do is provide security. This is something handmade that the kids know that people in the community are thinking about them, hoping for them and hoping that their lives get better perhaps than they have in the past."
I love this bug jar block quilt. A six year-old friend of ours received one of these himself, as a gift. It's adorable, just like this one:
Posted by Steph at 09:07 AM | Comments (0)
September 25, 2005
Happy Blue-Green Robot Fish Birthday, Ford!
Today was Ford's blue+green+robot+fish+Fourth Birthday Party. All of the pre-party freaking out was worth the post-party glow, as you can see:
Oh, I was fit to be tied until the guests actually arrived. From there, it was, well cake. But even the cake-decorating stressed me out.
However, it was a success, measured in burps.
And blurs.
Posted by Steph at 10:09 PM | Comments (0)
September 21, 2005
Self Portrait Tuesday
These colors work very well with pink construction paper. It is my new sketching combination. My hands are beginning to age.
Posted by Steph at 05:21 AM | Comments (0)
September 19, 2005
Museum Day
Today was Museum Day in Austin, when all the museums are open to the public, free of charge. Most of them also hosted fun kid-centric activities, like making seed balls and collages at the Ladybird Johnson Wildflower Center. Because it was noon, and white hot outside, we decided to head on over for some masochistic martyrdom at the Wildfower Center, where we could either bake to death outside in the beautifully landscaped terrace or pressure cook till our eyes popped out in the Little House, aka Little Barely-Air-Conditioned Room Where the Children Hang. So we decided to share the best of both worlds, and I took Ford to the House while Damon and Chas kicked back in the brick oven.
Lois Ehlert is in town, and while she was signing her picture books that we left at home, Ford and I made Leaf Man-inspired collages:
While working on them, I paused to take a break and admire all the children at work on their collages. Ford had squirted huge silver dollar-sized dabs of Elmer's glue onto his paper and stuck, very gingerly atop it, thin strands of dried grasses. It was so cute. An eight year-old across the table scanned this and then looked at me, scrunching up her face, and asked "Why did he use such a big glob of glue?" Before answering, I smiled, immediately thinking of the way Ford and I laugh together at Chas' "mistakes" all of the time, and the way he in so many words, asks the same of Chas when he makes a "mess."
"Oh, Chas! What are you doing?" Ford will say, and laugh in a very infectious way.
Posted by Steph at 06:45 PM | Comments (0)
September 17, 2005
Austin Nature Center
With all the company we've had the past week or so, it has been easy for me to forget what it's like being around Ford, when he is not competing for attention between one or more babies. His enthusiasm, when he is engaged, is really unbridled. Unbridled engagement. That sounds weird.
Today we rediscovered the Austin Nature Center. In May I took the boys there, but we didn't make it past the first tier of exploration; today, we stepped throught the back door and into the rest of the museum. It's such a gem! They have a collection of native animals in the form of a miniature zoo, so the kids can see a coyote or a ringtail or coati or raccoon walk feet in front of them. No annoying cotton candy vendors along the way. It's small, shaded, and in the middle of town. There were several trails adjacent to the animal enclosures that we earmarked for later. Today's focus was the outdoor dinosaur dig.
Ford asked a ton of questions about the Pleisosaur fossil model. "What bone is this, mommy?"
"It's a phalange, but look how many there are on his pointer finger!"
"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine,"
I ask "How many are on your pointer finger?" I help him identify them:
"One, two, three.."
"Three! That's not quite as many as the Pleisosaur, huh?"
"Mommy, what's this bone?" Points at some kind of wrist bone.
"That looks like a wrist bone, maybe a metacarpal?"
"Where is my metacarpal?"
I take his hand and poke around towards his wrist, nearly in the same area. "Right in here are several metacarpals. But in your hand, the wrist bones that you feel are actually part of your arm bones!"
"What are your arm bones called?"
"The radius (I point to the bony prominence on the distal radial head) and the ulna (yada yada)."
He lays his hand down upon the "fossil" remains.
Chas kept crawling in and out of the Pleisosaur mouth. He does that a lot. I mean, he's not particular to Pleisosaur fossils, but if there is a cozy nook then he must rearrange the contents so that he can wedge his round bottom into it. He will systematically throw Hot Wheels out of the toybox until none remain in the small box, then squirrel around inside the box like a restless dog until he's comfortable. And then he'll sigh, sometimes clap. And then claps some more. And grunt, smiling. It's very cute.
Posted by Steph at 11:53 AM | Comments (0)
September 15, 2005
surprise
Ford is an expressive, independent kid, and I've never tried to squash the juice out of him by making him "draw things" or label his art. Naturally, I would think, his artwork would be as it usually appears: more evocative than representational. He usually begins a piece by slowly dabbing and stroking the paper with paint, and then begins to get physical with the medium by testing the limits of the brush against brute strength(how hard can I jab the brush into the paper? how many times can I do this over and over again before something gives? this feels GOOD!) until finally, his piece resembles a meteor storm or a hurricane, or a dance, or a race. His work is never static.
I was in a funk after Jim and Alis left, feeling vaguely cathartic, venting, and extremely tired, when I began to sob. This consumed Ford, and he began to offer to buy me various things which he thought might make me happy again. I told him that I didn't really want him to buy me anything, but that I would appreciate a drawing instead. And continued to decompress, although I was charmed by his efforts.
About five minutes later he came upstairs and handed me this drawing. It is, according to him, a picture of me and I am smiling. Notice the long arm, of which my left is longer (I am left-handed) and the petite legs. The smile is uncontrived, very nice. This is his first fully representational drawing that he initiated on his own. And all for me, it is mine. Granted, I am not praising his newfound mastery of realism, but instead just amazed at how he has restrained this capability he already apparently has in order to be true to his art, to nurture his expressive style. I'm very proud of that.
Posted by Steph at 12:26 PM | Comments (0)
September 14, 2005
Self Portrait Tuesday
I drive to Houston every three months for a haircut; I only trust one person with my hair. One of the best features of the current do is that it holds up when tossed about and messed up, because it is usually tossed about and messed up. Actually this is not unlike how I feel currently.
Posted by Steph at 09:00 PM | Comments (0)
September 13, 2005
This morning we rallied with haste to meet Michael Berenstain, son and collaborator with the great Jan and Stan Berenstain at BookPeople for a Berenstain Bears storytime. But a big black felt marker "CANCELLED" on the calendar greeted us at the entrance, and the store clerk informed us all that Stan Berenstain is very sick in the hospital, and Michael had to go be with him. So instead we listened to a spunky, cheerful tale of a Siamese cat who thought he was a chihuahua while making get well cards with crayons and construction paper.
Alis and I agree the real draw for the Berenstan Bears, for us, was their enormous treehouse home.
Posted by Steph at 06:48 AM | Comments (0)
September 12, 2005
Catharsis
It rained. It rained from the minute we awoke, in heavy little pats, until late evening, in one long exhale, the sky clearly exhausted from crying so long. I don't think it's rained here in weeks, so the plants outside--the non-natives--are completely overjoyed and outstretched for more, bursting to produce as many flowers as possible before the next drought. It's impossible to traverse the driveway without stepping on tiny little snails, overzealous and anxious to breed. They are aimlessly sliding around like little old drunken men, groping their way through their drunken haze, leaving a trail of drool. One of the twin fawns is now an adolescent; I was startled to see her in the blue twilight, slowly stepping through the juniper-cedar outside the living room window. Her white spots travelling through the branch silhouettes made a striking image, inspiration for a quilt.
Alis and her family are visiting. Best friends are wonderful gifts. They arrive, and the music doesn't skip a beat. Jim falls asleep peacefully reading on the sofa while Alis and Ford bake apple pie. The house smells more like home than it ever has, and I feel content and blessed.
Posted by Steph at 04:48 AM | Comments (0)
September 09, 2005
zen and the art of anger management
Parenting is hard work, but proof of God. Otherwise I would have barehandedly killed Ford today. Stronger forces exist outside the realm of my patience. But oh, the demons within. I mean, how else am I supposed to react to our new residents Jeckyll and Hyde, where five minutes after retorting "That is not a good idea. bitch." he murmured, "I want you to sleep with me, mommy."
Yes, the "Terrible Twos" was a cakewalk. This, people, THIS is the Fucking Fours.
Posted by Steph at 06:42 AM | Comments (0)
September 08, 2005
Midnight sound byte
I am sitting in my bed, listening to jazz pipe in from the next room as it ripples through the white noise of my children, in bed beside me, breathing. I think I am damned lucky to enjoy this moment, I want to cling to it knowing that I'm still here enjoying this as a refugee from Katrina sits up in bed, acheing through a wave of despair in having lost a home, a loved one, possibly a child.
Posted by Steph at 06:17 AM | Comments (0)
September 06, 2005
Self Portrait Tuesday
I've been blogged down for a couple of weeks, but tomorrow is a new day.
Posted by Steph at 07:16 PM | Comments (3)
September 04, 2005
I love my dad
But perhaps not as much as Chas. The two of them, they'se like peas n corn.
Posted by Steph at 06:26 AM | Comments (0)