March 2007 Archives
Ok enough with the paralysis brought on by severe disappointment. Actually, that particular paralysis only lasted for a few days--I haven't blogged for the last few weeks solely out of the typical boring combination of overwhelm and laziness that plagues these Parenthetical parts like locusts chowing down on Egypt's greenery. (Yeah, it's getting close to Passover, did you notice?)
What I really need to pause and talk about before I talk about anything else, though, is the other (and far better) mind-boggling event that happened back on March 14th: Isaac officially turned two. My baby! My little laughing king! And he *is* quite a laugher these days...also a shouter, a crier, and in general an all-emotions-lived-to-their-fullest-and-cycled-through-every-ten-seconds typical toddler. His little personality is really blossoming--let's see, how can I sum him up? He's such an amazing combination of sweet snuggly cuteness and strong-willed (and ok, I admit it, boylike) toughness. (As an example of the latter, he had three shots at the doctor's last week and at the first one, glanced down at his arm and said mildly "ow", the second was more of a "hey!" kind of howl and not until the third one did he start actually protesting and crying in earnest, mostly because we were restraining him and not so much because of the shot.) He's a very cheerful and social kid overall--he shouts "hi!" when we pass people on the street or in the store, and will quite happily kiss and hug any visitors to our house when asked.
He's also getting to be incredibly verbal (I know, no big surprise there) and his pronunciation is pretty clear for a 2 year old. He knows all his colors and most of his animals/animal noises, and is hot in pursuit of learning all the numbers and letters. Whereas approximately 6 months ago his big toddler OCD thing was identifying and pointing out all things "nying-nyoh" (yellow), his big thing right now is to identify and point out every single stop sign ("stop sign means....STOP!") and stop light ("green light GO!" "red light means....STOP!"). He does this overandoverandoverandover, every trip we take in the car. He also loves to open and especially close all doors--sliding doors, swinging doors, cabinet doors, car doors, whatever. He will freak out in a sudden tantrum if you forget and close or open a door when he was planning on doing it himself. (The horror!) He still loves his "bis" (his burp rag lovey) but now he sometimes calls it his "bissy". He still carries it around with him a lot but only really needs it at nap/bedtime or whenever he wants that extra bit of comfort. He is very mama-focused these days (which is both sort of fulfilling and sort of frustrating), but is generally fine about being left at daycare or with babysitters (or even with Daddy). He and his brother are getting along pretty well overall--there is much affection between them, and some of those moments of sibling cuteness are literally breath-taking (well, at least for their parents). Actually it's those sweet brotherly moments that make us so, so glad we have two.
So exciting to watch these little sprouts grow and blossom. I can't wait to see what the next year will bring!
^Iz going for a ride at Chuck E. Cheese a few days before his birthday.
*Does* everything happen for a reason? So hard to keep the faith right now. I'm so disappointed, my heart hurts. Hurts like an unwieldy water balloon sloshing around in my chest, bumping into my lungs and squeezing out the air in them. There was a moment of shock, a gaping hole of silence opening up as my ears absorbed the news and my brain began to process it. Then the wave of disappointment came crashing in and violently swept away the carefully nurtured sandcastle of hope and expectation I'd been building all these weeks, erased it like it had never been there. Now I know where all those clichéd metaphors come from, can physically feel the truth in each one: I feel crushed, I feel turned to stone, I feel about 3 inches tall, I feel squashed flat, I am walking around with a ball of lead in the pit of my stomach, there is a buzzing in my head and I can't seem to focus on what's in front of me, everything looks gloomier and there is no joy in Mudville anymore.
Sigh.
Big sigh.
Several more sighs, which may very possibly continue throughout the next few days every time the news occurs to me yet again and I keep working through the disappointment.
Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, just keep swimming...
Spring, spring, spring! It's now in full swing. Today I'm actually wearing short sleeves and cropped pants and the air outside is practically drinkable, it's so tasty. This is the season that will always remind me of Isaac's birthday, these first few heady weeks of unfurling from Winter's introverted tightness.
And speaking of Isaac...he's about to turn two in a couple days! We had his birthday party over the weekend, a smaller and far less elaborate affair than we had for Eli when he was two. (Which is not a reflection of how much we value our darling youngest child, but more a reflection of how much wiser and more experienced we are as parents. Honestly, when you're two, a few people, a cake and some balloons are all you need. And presents, of course.) We did a SpongeBob theme, but in a pretty low key way--we got a few balloons, a tablecloth, some plates and napkins, and I made him a SpongeBob cake (it's no masterpiece of decorating the way a Lara-cake would be, but it came out well enough for Isaac to recognize what it was and that's what matters). I did have a fun time icing it, I must say--brought out the latent painterly impulses and I couldn't stop fiddling with the coloring and the application of the frosting (not my favorite medium--stiff and unforgiving and doesn't blend well). He got some good relative-love and some fun new presents (we got him a combo sand-and-water table for the back yard) and I would have to say that overall it was a successful, low-key event.
We did decide to make something special for everyone for dinner after Isaac's party: kreplach (which, ironically, Isaac didn't eat, but maybe someday he will). We had intended to make it last weekend for Purim (given its vaguely triangular shape, it's actually traditional to eat kreplach for Purim--which I just discovered this year) but we didn't get around to it, so we decided that having family over was enough of an excuse to make it this weekend. On Saturday, we made 5 mixed batches of potato/onion and chicken/veg (and then I made another 5 by myself with Eli's help on Sunday, since we had so much filling left over) and ate about 3 or 4 batches worth, then froze the rest. Josh made the filling and I made the dough, and Dri and Brandi helped me actually shape the kreplach themselves. (And you know what? It was actually quite fun sitting around with girlfriends talking while doing this kind of traditional women's busywork--just like quilting, it's an activity best done collectively.) Eli and I did call my Grandma on Sunday and tell her about it (very cute), and she was very pleased (although she did comment "don't get too good at it or I'll have no excuse to come see you"). I think blintzes are next on the "forcing-Grandma-to-make-me-ethnic-food" agenda. I must say I truly enjoyed the experience of making the kreplach, both collectively and all by myself (I really got into a sort of zen zone with it after the first few batches), although today my wrists, forearms, and shoulders are really sore from the unaccustomed motion of kneading and rolling out all that dough. I tell you, it really makes me appreciate just how strong your average bubbe had to be back in the days before pasta rollers and bread makers and all those other labor saving devices. But it was worth it,
because now I have an excuse to eat more schmaltz (homemade by Josh, no less).
Other than that, the only other major event of the weekend was going to Chuck E. Cheese for a 6 year old's birthday party. The less said about that scene of chaotic animatronic kid-hell the better, but I will say this: I remember being there two years ago at this same time for this same kid's party (of course then she was turning 4, and how time flies!) and feeling the early pangs of labor (Isaac was born the next day), so I will always have a sort of bizarre fondness for the place in spite of everything. And at least I got some cute pictures.
Ok that's it for now...pictures of spring and cake and kreplach and Chuck E. posted when I get a chance (I'm solo parenting for a few days here so who knows when that will be).
Holy Moses it's been hard to blog lately. (I'm trying to get away from saying "Jesus Christ!" all the time as an exclamation...as a good Jewish girl it's surprising how often I reference the guy.) And as usual it's because there's lots going on, and lots of big wannabe blog post ideas are gumming up the oh so delicate brainworks. So to get around that I'm just going to do a little brain dump--one could rightly call it a bit of spring cleaning, or at least cleaning in honor of spring--because that's better than nothing.
So speaking of spring, said season has sprung here in a major way. It feels like it came especially early this year--early to mid February rather than early March. Global warming? This year's particular unique weather pattern? Who knows. The fuzzy yellow acacias have come and are nearly gone (they seem to have had a somewhat shorter season this year, blooming later than their usual mid January and petering out now that we're into March). But the cherished (by me) and oh-so brief pink and green season is in full swing. Pink for the magnolias and cherry trees--god I love those flowers--and green for the succulent grass turning the hills and roadsides a vibrant emerald. The daffodils are blooming in yards and medians, the air is mild and fragrant, the buds are about to burst into leaves on all the naked trees. I am giddy with enjoyment of all the pink and green, and already mourning (yes, in advance) the loss of the flowers as they slowly transmute into leaves. I want to get out there and take pictures of everything just so I have something to remember it all by.
Other things are feeling fresh and showing signs of rebirth too. I've been getting a lot more done on the novel, for example--never as much or as fast as I'd like, but more: two more chapters and a bunch of continuity edits on previously written chapters. Now I'm paused while I figure out some complicated worldbuilding issues, but I'm not discouraged, just doing the necessary background work. (Later I'll have some plot issues to refine, and that's much more likely to be discouraging. But I will continue to slog.)
Things are growing and changing with the kids, too--especially Isaac. Just in time for his birthday next week, he is becoming your classic tantrum-prone, "me do it!" two year old. But along with the insistence that it is his god-given right to control every situation and person around him comes an incredible flowering of his power to communicate--speech has suddenly become something he can *do*, not just hear. It's a contradictory, crazy-making age of opposites: on the one hand, this truly is the age where a kid's unreasonable and unceasing whining and crying can grate every last nerve down to the nub so badly that you just want to lock yourself in the bathroom and drown yourself in the bathtub (not that I ever feel that way, oh no), but it's also the most breathtakingly enthusiastic and deliciously adorable age of all--so it kind of equals out in the long run.
Ok, I know there's more to clean out of my musty brain, but this will have to be it for now. The Lord and Lady of Dreams are having a little intimate dinner party tonight and I don't want to miss the soup course.
