I found a writer to read

My children are frequently puzzled by the fact that I don't like to read fiction all that much, especially since I'm an English professor with a special interest in narratology. I love to teach fiction, but I don't like to read it. I'd rather read about history or politics or medicine (best of all: the political history of medicine!), or about how to make things.

As part of the research I'm doing on body image, motherhood, and DIY culture, though, I have been looking at some creative nonfiction by women writers. This morning, I came across the writing of Susan Ito, a blogger and the fiction co-editor at Literary Mama magazine. (I ask myself why I've been assiduously avoiding Literary Mama for so long---is it my busman's holiday thing [I don't want to read literary stuff when I'm not officially working]? Is it my sense of inadequacy at being an academic writer rather than a "real writer" [a distinction that my mom made back when I was in graduate school. I don't think she still sees my work that way, though I haven't asked her]?)

Susan Ito is a wonderful writer, and Literary Mama is an excellent publication. I'm very glad that today I found both of them.

Puddles and tears

We're having one of those unseasonably warm winter days--which we totally deserve--and the dirty, gray snow is finally melting. Astrid enjoyed splashing in the huge puddles on our sidewalk. This was certainly the high point of a day that has been full of Astrid's emotional ups and downs....actually, brief ups followed by deep, long downs. A trying day.

On days like this, I like to think of one of my favorite King Pleasure songs, "Tomorrow's Another Day." To be honest, it's been such a tough day that I can't even remember the words to the song, and the Internet's not helping! I'm sure I'll remember the words tomorrow....

Sigh. I can't even get our puddle pictures to load. Maybe tomorrow?

Pencil-packin' girl

Even before Astrid turned three, she was using drawing tools to help her work out her feelings and let us know what was on her mind. This past spring, though, when she was earnestly practicing her reading skills, she pretty much stopped drawing and painting. It was a strange time for us, because we just didn't have as many clues about what she was thinking. She is a very articulate kid, but is sometimes indirect in her communications about the things that matter the most to her. (Diplomatic, ain't I?)

Now that her reading is coming along more quickly, Astrid has started drawing and painting again. She has spent at least a few minutes every day this summer (or at least it seems that way) sketching what she sees and thinks about: anatomically detailed animals in motion, incongruous scenes she pictures in her mind (like me with a big beard....), Pokemon creatures she has invented. She has also been hungrily studying the work of other artists in some art history textbooks I brought home from work. Over the past couple of weeks, she has produced her own painted version of Hokusai's "Great Wave" woodcut, as well as some intriguing interpretations of portraits. I like the angle of her Frida Kahlo portrait; the way she shows a heartily-built Kahlo looking slightly to the side makes me think of Botero. (Her drawings look a bit faint on the computer screen--sorry.)

Astrid had seen the Mona Lisa before, but she didn't show interest in doing a version until I mentioned that many people call this painting "La Gioconda," or "The Laughing Woman." Then Astrid got a smile on her own face and worked furiously for two minutes (before running off to watch Arthur on PBS with her brother). We're all happy that she's drawing again.

Before the Sprain

Here are photos from last weekend--before Elliot sprained his ankle.
On Saturday of last week, we held our annual block-wide Yard Sale. Elliot and Astrid staffed a Bake Sale for Obama, which netted $32----not bad! Astrid and I made all of the chocolate chip cookies and Rice Krispie Treats on the very hot, very humid night before. I was cursing my foolish thinking as we sweat away until 11 p.m. in the kitchen, but the next day we were very happy with the response the kids got. I'm proud to say that I have mailed in the money they earned (plus my own donation, promised a month ago....).

On Sunday, our neighbor Tejul came over and the three kids experimented making sailboats for our little pool. We are so sad that Tejul and his family are moving in a couple of weeks; they have been lovely neighbors.

The eve of kindergarten, and other boundary moments

Tomorrow afternoon is kindergarten and sixth grade graduation at Elliot and Astrid's school. The kids have been preparing songs and dances for the last month or so. Astrid was so excited tonight that she couldn't get to sleep; around 9:15 (more than an hour after Terry started trying to get her to zonk out), her eyes got very big when I told her that she *had* to get to sleep very quickly if she wanted to go to graduation. Happily for all of us, this ultimatum (plus a lot more cuddling from Terry) worked within another few minutes.

The kids go to a Montessori language immersion school, so much of the graduation ceremony will be in Spanish (which Elliot and Astrid speak), Japanese, and Mandarin Chinese. At last year's ceremony, when Elliot was a rising fifth grader, he got to translate his teacher's very beautiful speech to the graduating sixth graders. Parents who were native Spanish speakers congratulated Terry and me so much that anyone would have thought it was Elliot who was graduating. I don't know what role he'll be playing at tomorrow's gathering--have I mentioned that he's a bit circumspect about what he does at school?--but I do know that the ceremony will be pretty weighty for him, as he will officially be a sixth grader at the end of it.

And Astrid will be a kindergartner tomorrow, as she reminded me in the bathroom this evening. This fact makes me giddy with an unnameable emotion. I really can't put my finger on it--it's not the usual "gee, they grow up so fast" kind of feeling, but more like my zillionth realization that she is her own person, simultaneously transparent and inscrutable. She is one of the most solid-cored people I've ever met--always resolutely Astrid, even when being Astrid is very, very difficult for her. She knows she tires us out (yeah, like Olivia the pig, but much stormier), and we know she sometimes exhausts herself in the process. With her, from the day she was born, the dynamic has been about asserting needs, wanting closeness, resisting boundaries and authority, identifying with and confiding in me, pushing back, reasserting needs--an amazing kind of upward spiral that always proves her a tiny bit more confident, accomplished, wily, creative, funny, beautiful than she was during the last go-round.

While Terry was gentling her to sleep (I've always loved Dr. Sears' phrase for a father's special kind of nighttime parenting), I got to watch the Celtics come from 24 points behind to beat the Lakers---and I got to do some summer sewing for Astrid, which really made me think about how she's growing. I made two pairs of shorts and finished up an unbleached muslin pinafore-ish top with black rick rack and a fabulous black-and-white flapper button. Then I went online and saw my sister-in-law Carrie's new painting--one marking the fact that her daughter is almost weaned. It's such a lovely image, especially for our family's eve of kindergarten.

Elliot at the helm

Elliot's been telling me that he wanted to start working with the sewing machine again, so today he did it. I showed him how to stitch triangles together to make quilting blocks, and he quickly figured out how to chain the pieces together so that he didn't have to cut his thread after each one. He made about twenty of them before dinner during the time it took our pizza to bake!

Right before dinner, when her behavior is usually at its most challenging, Astrid rolled my work chair right into my ironing board, which, as you can probably see, is embarrassingly overloaded with stuff (sewing related and otherwise....), and it capsized. It's kind of surprising that this has never happened before, as I insist on using the ironing board as a catchall surface, and Astrid insists on zooming across the hardwood floor on the rolling chair. We were quite glad to hear the oven buzzer go off, so that we could put aside all our disagreements and eat homemade pizza together.

After dinner, the four of us watched Singin' in the Rain, one of our favorite musicals (it was Astrid's first time seeing it--she liked everything but the "smooching,") and we ate apricot nectar cake that Astrid and I made this afternoon. It was sweet and tangy, just like the movie.

Du plane, du plane!

I spent three hours this morning writing a kickass chapter proposal for a collection of essays on undergraduate General Education reform--I get mighty excited about this stuff, and I was very happy with my work. I shut down my computer to go home from the coffee shop, as the lunch crowd was coming in and I didn't want to keep anyone from sitting down to eat. When I got home and tried to email the file to the editors.....well, let's just say it was not there. I searched my computer, and later my husband searched the whole thing, too, and folks, it was not there.

Tomorrow morning I'll be trying to remember what I wrote so that I can reconstruct it. I couldn't face it today. I've lost big chunks of writing before--twelve years ago, I lost a third of a textbook I was helping to write!--but for some reason, losing those 1200 words hit me really hard. I've been out of it all day. I finally started doing some aggressive clutter reduction in the dining room and then in my "work room"--an unheated tandem bedroom that's more of a dumping ground than a workspace. I made only the tiniest dent in the overwhelming mess, but I have to say that it helped me feel better.

Going through a very tall pile of Astrid's artwork (she's *prolific*), deciding what to save and what to toss, was fun. I came across a picture that she made just a couple of weeks ago at one of Elliot's baseball games. Astrid generally brings her sketch book with her; when she's not playing with other younger siblings or begging me to take her to the playground, she sits by herself and draws. I do my best to let her work without interruption, and then I invite her to tell me something about what she's done. Here's what she told me about this picture: It's Egypt, as we can see from the pyramids and the Sphinx and hippo in the middle. Now, flying overhead is a pilot who believes that the Sphinx is alive, and that s/he and the hippo must be very thirsty there in the Egyptian desert. As the caption at the bottom of the picture explains, "Du plane jopt joosis" ("The plane dropped juices"). According to Astrid, the plane also dropped a case of Diet Coke, which the hippo is excited to drink; he doesn't know, however, that the bottles have been badly shaken and will make a big mess when they are opened.

Just looking at this picture makes me feel good.

Window Garden

When Elliot was much littler--actually, before Astrid was born--he and I used to put up seasonal displays in our living room's picture window: autumn leaves, paper snowflakes, and his favorite, the springtime garden. He started asking me a couple of weeks ago if we could do it this year; I could understand why, as we had such a long and miserable winter that the springtime has really seemed like a time to celebrate. But I was so busy with other things--work, starting up my own sewing again, and most recently, helping with the round of baseball-related rituals (Elliot's season started April 19, and he's already played four games!)--that I didn't see the window garden happening this year.

This morning, though, Astrid wanted to make some art, so I got out a little stack of Mellitta coffee filters, our liquid watercolor paints, some crayons, and eyedroppers, and we made lovely butterflies for the window. Elliot joined us about a half hour into our work--today was the last day of religious education (what we used to call CCD), and his class got out early, so he had time to play around with us before he had baseball practice--and he suggested that our butterflies really need some flowers to visit. Before we knew it, we had about ten butterflies, grass, and four different kinds of flowers to put up in the window. While Elliot was playing ball, Astrid and I taped everything up.

Afterwards, she and I walked to the supermarket to get $50 worth of fruit and vegetables for her school. We both had our backpacks (hers is very small) and two nylon shopping bags; she didn't fuss once on the five-block walk home, and, as she emphasized, she "never put her side of the bag down, even though it was really heavy." (This picture, incidentally, is a charming shot of Astrid when she was about 19 months old--she was skinny, REALLY fussy, and almost unbearably cute, even when filthy with ice cream, as she was during much of the block party at which this photo was taken. Now, she's no longer so skinny, she's somewhat less fussy, but still quite cute.)

I digress. Back to what I want to say: I love midday on Sundays. The day feels nice and long when it's 12 or 1. Around 3, though, I start to get anxious, because there's just so much to get done, and I've usually already tired myself out doing what I felt like doing. Tonight I made a dinner that was way too ambitious: chicken kabobs with lots of vegetables, rice, and cinnamon-squash muffins. While the chicken was marinating, I took Elliot to Old Navy to choose a bunch of t-shirts (he is sad because he has outgrown many of his favorite ones; he brightened when he saw that we were buying his new shirts in the men's department....I can't say I was as excited....). We enjoyed analyzing Wilco songs in the car. Then, when we were home, he was famished and I was absolutely hustling to get dinner together....while doing laundry and getting the kids' lunches made for Monday. By the time we were done eating and cleaning up, I was grouchy, grouchy.

The other day I put the memory card for our camera somewhere in my backpack, and I haven't found it yet. Once it resurfaces, I'll have pictures to post. I made four peasant blouses for Astrid this week, finished a slinky-knit top I started for myself back in December, and completely redid a black, pebbled-crepe bias-cut skirt that was way too big for me. Both the top and skirt look great. It's been a very happy week for sewing.

Loopy dispatch

I'm sitting in my downtown Chicago office, watching it snow like a sonofagun outside. In a couple of hours I have my first class meeting for the semester--it's a class called "Gender and the Artist in American Fiction," one I've taught every few years since 1996 (eek! All of a sudden that seems like a long time). I haven't been able to get pictures to load from my home laptop, so I am happy to have an excuse to take a break from work to get some pictures and ideas tapped out.

I've finally got a picture--not a full-length one, though--of one of the dresses I made for Astrid over the winter break. How's this for twisted: the pattern (McCall's M5510) is very obviously for a nightgown and/or pajamas. The envelope back and instructions, however, include this legalistic jewel: "NOTE: The garments in this pack are not intended for Sleep Apparel." I understand, I think, why they say this--these are loose-fitting designs, and if they weren't made in flame-retardant fabrics (which I wouldn't use....sorry), they might be dangerous if there was a fire during the night. But come on! Are they trying to convince purchasers that these clothes are pajama costumes--in other words, outfits that kids might dress up in before they go to bed, but then change into "real" PJs before they get into bed?

Happily for me, I had no intention of sewing this design for nighttime wear (ooops....I mean "Sleep Apparel"). I was looking for a dress without buttons, snaps, or facings, and I wanted something with a nice ruffle at the sleeves. So far I've made it in the peachy Japanese-inspired tree print shown in the photo, a pair of coordinating chocolate-and-blue prints, and some cool "rainbowy" home dec fabric I found at IKEA. (If you're looking at the IKEA page, the two fabrics I used are the second from the left [big rainbows] and the one on the far right [the small multicolored emblems])The IKEA dresses are sleeveless; Astrid has one, as does her neighbor-friend Lily (or, as Astrid calls her, "Lily the Lion"--she had a lion costume for Halloween when they were both 3, I think). The dresses are good for twirling (*so* important!) and it's easy to make the bodice in a different fabric (like I did with the brown/blue and IKEA versions). What I can't show here, but what I'm most happy about, is the closure for all of the dresses: after cutting a small ponytail elastic (the kind Goody makes in a zillion different colors) in half, I turned each half into a loop and sewed it about two inches to the left of the center back (close to the neck and right above the skirt/bodice seamline). Then, two inches to the right of the center back, I sewed big vintage buttons. This arrangement gathers the fullness of the back of the dress so that it doesn't slip off Astrid's shoulders (as it appears to be doing in the McCalls envelope picture).

Gee, Astrid looks happy--no, ecstatic --in her dress, doesn't she? (Actually, maybe she's just receiving instructions from her mothership. Do I look like someone who knows what's going on in her daughter's mind? Perish the thought.)

Worrying about Naught(iness)

Miraculously, Astrid did OK this morning, and, more baffling, even after she came home from a long day at school. I probably won't be able to get the pictures uploaded (I'm *really* trying for serenity, but my patience is waning), but I took many pictures of a castle she and I made out of blocks this evening. Actually, not just a castle (which was built partly out of nylon juggling scarves!), but also a princess's sewing workshop, a crown-shaped waiting area for people who want to meet and/or work with the princess, and a large play area for the children of the princess's co-workers.

During the latter stages of the building session, I turned on Antiques Roadshow (the season premiere!), and Astrid told me that "it's a good show for Mommies and little girls to watch together." I couldn't agree more, of course....I wonder if she'll say the same thing next week....