Fin is FIVE today. His goals for this year include:
1. being cozy
2. finding a stick, and carrying it around for a while
3. proving that whining gets you what you want, even though it hasn't yet. This process will involve performing roughly the same experiment over and over again, and being undaunted by roughly the same result over and over again. I'm hoping that his tenacity will serve him well on future research projects. And that his charm and good looks will prevent future test subjects from murdering him. Don't knock it, it's worked for him so far.
Five is a big birthday. I can't believe he's already five. I can't believe he's only five. Five means that he's definitively not a baby any more, even if he hides behind my legs when spoken to by adults to whom he's lived next door for all of his life. But mostly five means: school. In the fall, he'll be delivered into an institution that will require an ever increasing amount of his time and energy and from which he will not emerge for 12 to 18 years. Poor baby.
Five also means that my life changes. That I am no longer the mother of babies, toddlers, or preschoolers. It's just a transition on the continuum of motherhood, but this chapter is ending and I'm a little mournful about it. Because it's all about me.
Not quite yet, actually. I leave tomorrow in the wee hours....
The last of the boxes shipped today. All stacked up, they were not taller than a five-year-old. Which surprised me a little. So, now I'm taking a moment to feel really really lucky that I get to do this work that I'm so passionate about, and that I have this opportunity and that I get to go be a craft-geek for four whole days!
The first three boxes of stuff got shipped ahead to Baltimore this morning. And I have new boots. And I let Jacline have her way with my hair, so I am now rocking butterscotch streaks and something she's calling "french bangs." I'm feeling a little more prepared. Mostly because of the boots.
Dreaming of swarms and schools and tiny individuals that move as a group, weaving in and out. Undulating. Clouds and rivers and wind, crowds, and the whole being greater than the sum of it's parts.
There's something about a turkish tea glass that makes a beer seem more like an exotic beverage and less like a brewski.
This is what I was asked to read last night. These kids know how to hint. I'm so very proud of them! But we're still not getting a dog....
It's ok, little broken-hearted robot. Love terrifies us too.
Really? Was it Gnarly AND Epic? Was it also 1991? Just wondering.
These dulcet darlings are making me spectacularly happy. Or, I may have accidentally doubled-up on cold medicine. Either way....
Fin is FIVE today. His goals for this year include:
The Annie's Annuals catalog came today. It's rained so much lately, that I forgot.... It's not coming soon, but someday, in the distant future, it will be here: spring.
This is George. George Herbert Walking Foot. We made a quilt together yesterday. We are friends now, even though I don't care much for his politics and he finds me exasperatingly quixotic, brazen and socialist.
Three weeks to Baltimore and I'm officially freaking out full-time. Fortunately, my freak out has, so far, been full of frills and frippery and flowers. McGluey (If you stay up late with me, you too will receive a nickname - perhaps even a Grey's-Anatomy-inspired nickname. Which? seemed super-hilarious last night. Because he's a hottie? Get it? A hot-glue gun? Onevermind.) and I adhered pin-backs to all of these lovelies into the wee hours....
