Letter to my children: Dinner Games

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Dearest Beloveds,

I know I need to focus and go back to the outline I made of what I wanted to cover for you two in these letters, but I feel this is super awesome and I don’t want to miss this.

There are three games we are currently playing at dinner: I Spy, Animal Vegetable Mineral, and Guess the Number - each with their own vagaries, shall we say. I Spy is fairly straightforward.

Dragon, “I spy with my little eye something yellow.” Then we all guess and can usually figure it out fairly quickly.

Animal, Vegetable, Mineral involves partners because sometimes the items can be tricky.

Bean and I will drum on the table and sing while the Dragon whispers his to Dada.

Bean, “Animal, Vegetable, Mineral.”

Dragon, “Animal”

Bean, “Do we eat it?”

Dragon, “No”

Bean, “Does it have four legs or two?”

The Dragon will look at Dada in confusion. Dada, “I think four legs.”

Dragon, “It has wings and drinks blood.” (Darling, for some reason, after more than 2 or 3 questions, you always jump in with a huge hint.)

The Bean smiles hugely, “Is it a mosquito?”

Dragon, “YES! A squito!”

The Guess the Number game has changed the most since we started playing it a few months ago. It used to be that one player would have a number in their head between 0-20 and the other players would guess. The player with the number would say higher or lower and eventually the number would be revealed. Bean, with your math learnings, you have changed the whole equation.

First, you share the new rules, “Okay, so come up with a number between 0-50. Momma, do you have one?”

“Yes.”

“Is it an odd number?”

“Yes.”

“Does it have a 4 in it?”

“Yes.”

“Is it 41?” I nod no. “43?” I nod no. Your voice and face get more and more animated as you circle round the number and hone in on what it could be. “45?”

“YES! You did it! That is amazing! I love how you honed in on that so rapidly by using your noggin. Such good noggin work!”

It is incredibly impressive Bean to watch you use your math prowess to approach the numbers game in such a new way. I can see your neurons firing so bright and that is awesome.

This snapshot of our current life, so grateful I am for you both. Thank you for being my beloveds.

Letters to my children - Calendars, Inaugurations, and Healing Lemons

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Over winter break Bean you made a calendar. Twelve (which we learned recently comes from the fact people used to say, “one, twoo, three”) different pages were filled in by you with the correct number of days (from our month of the year song), starting on the right day of the week (from our days of the week song), and decorated with seasonal doings (or birthday cakes if that was appropriate). As such, every morning we cross off the day before and you tell me the day, date, month, and year. I find it really fun and so far it seems, so do you.

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Letter to my children: These are not normal times (and yet...)

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Letter to my children: These are not normal times (and yet...)

Dearest Beloveds,

Before I dive into the list of what makes this time so different than any other time on our planet… I want to relive the morning with you.

First, it is an odd day (as in today is the 11th), so the Dragon gets to open the door of the advent calendar. After finding a snowplow to attach to one of the Matchbox cards (thank you Mimi!), you both wanted to put on your Colombian dancing outfits from last year’s talent show.

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Dear Dad, anything else you want to talk about?

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Dear Dad, anything else you want to talk about?

When I was in college my father started throwing into conversations, “Anything else you want to talk about?” “Something else on your mind you want to discuss?” This opening made me feel heard and valued and I loved that he did that.

I started doing this myself with real conversations a few years ago … to create a softness for another subject, another wrinkle in the conversation.

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The Vault

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The Vault

The best advice I received (in addition to “take more pictures than you think is sane” and “get as much help as you can afford”) when we became new parents was about The Vault. The Vault is the place where all thoughts, words, and deeds that happen when you are insane with fatigue - that is where they live.

The door of The Vault is sealed with your faith. Faith in the choices you made when you were still a human capable of decision making and empathy towards yourself and your fellow man. All thoughts or discussions of a snarky, less than helpful nature go into The Vault. The “why didn’t you buy more diapers before the store closed and now we are all covered in poop you idiot,” or the “I don’t know if she is crying because I ate chocolate, we all ate the damn chocolate,” or the cranky 3 am snipe fest “fine, you show me how to swaddle this baby so she doesn’t stab herself in the eye with her talon nails,” all of that and more goes into The Vault. And it all stays there. Never to be thought or dragged up again the next morning/day/week. The strength of The Vault is trusting, nay knowing, that a part of you, the sane part, the part that once slept and didn’t cry at commercials, really wanted this baby/marriage/life circumstance.

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Letter to my children - our wall of white privilege

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Letter to my children - our wall of white privilege

Dearest beloveds, what a glorious time to be alive. I am going to continue to talk to you about today about what I have been talking about all week.

On our wall we have framed pieces of lace from Great-Grandmother’s many boxes of linen bequeathed to me over the years. Nearly every holiday gathering Baba’s family would do a distribution.

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ACIM Review V vs the media frenzy in my head

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This morning we were on our walk and I was sharing an article I read to W. The article is about the American scientists who have graduated from the CDC Epidemic Intelligent Service and the role these experts have played (or not) in our recent societal adventure. For weeks we have been discussing where the leaders are on what has been happening, what the plan is, how crazy this all is (here is my favorite take on that particular rabbit hole). Then I dip into some theories about the Gates Foundation, the WHO, microchipping, and mandatory vaccines. The frenzy in my head gets louder and louder - then I read my ACIM for today.

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Letter for my children: Face Masks and Bicycles

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Letter for my children: Face Masks and Bicycles

Today is day 48 of our staying at home. Holy Bajooley children.

Not surprisingly after 48 days, we have found our routine - and honestly I think you two have never been happier. Partly due to the home projects that have been plentiful this Spring, mostly due to the abundance of parental time and attention that has been showered onto you both.

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How do you hold a pencil?

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How do you hold a pencil?

I have been writing for 30+ years and never thought about how I hold a pencil, until now. I hold my pencil like I am about to punch the paper. Like I am about to pull back a shower curtain and stab Janet Leigh. Somehow I managed to be an English Major in college and write a very long dissertation in grad school - all while strangling my pen - thumb tucked under my pointer finger.

According to the handwriting books I am reading in preparation to teach my almost 6 year old, I hold my pencil incorrectly.*

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