Saturday, January 30, 2010

Dozen


Today I broke an entire carton of eggs at the checkout line...cage free, non-hormone, natural eggs, that is. (That I can't eat, sigh). As I went to pick up the carton, each egg tumbled out of it's egg-like groove in a slow free fall, like a troup of water ballerinas diving into a pool. They promptly cracked themselves on the metal cage of the cart dripping gooey yellow onto the floor....of course, I was shopping just right before THE BLIZZARD OF THE CENTURY (note the sarcasm). Not one to get upset over spilled milk, I promptly parked the cart over top so as to ward off anyone from slipping and went back to get another carton of eggs because Anna needs her "eggies" in the morning. People gave me mean looks,  but people also smiled. And for the first time in I can't remember, I simply didn't react to the free range mayhem at all. We checked out, ran through the parking lot getting covered in the powdery snowflakes.....don't sweat the small stuff, true....and as I got into the car I noticed my jacket was flaked with snow, tiny little stars...I can't remember the last time I saw a snowflake so clearly. Now, that's the small stuff I can sweat.....or chill rather.
Many of my fondest childhood memories involve snow....one night my sister Claire and I went out on a snowy night at like 9 o'clock. We were teenagers, we were barely speaking (something about a sweater, a boy, who knows). We made snow angels, swung on the swings, made the only human tracks in the snow that night. I could hear it, falling in sheets, like sheets on a bed, cascading down and covering. We didn't speak and upon returning to our house, my dad had made chocolate chip cookies and cocoa (really I'm not making this up-the Hannons never need a reason to make cookies). I hadn't known that quiet had it's own noise.

Today, I jogged with Tucker as the snow started to fall. I haven't run in so long because of being so sick. It's been one week of no symptoms and feeling good. The outside and the insides were quiet....and that, good friends, is saying a lot.


 
(Anna slurping cocoa)

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Tick,Tock




My kids are 2, 4 and 6 and in two weeks I'll be 38. How did this happen? I know, I know 38, is NOT old but do you ever just want to hit pause? Wait a minute, hold things right here, suspended animation, bookmark it, pull back on the clock hands? I do.

Monday, January 25, 2010

Mr. Cheese


We cracked the Chuckie Cheese seal yesterday-yes, I've managed to keep good ole' Chuckie just an urban myth for 6 years....The two boys were so sublime as they didn't explode by the sheer blinking, pinging, screaming, sticking madness of the place. (They waited until after). We learned how to put the tokens in the slots and be thrilled with the tickets the machines coughed up. We traded the greasy, man handled (boy handled, that is) tickets in for plastic spiders (now in the bottom of my bag) and stickers that have already ended up decorating yet another window in the car. We checked stuff out, my oldest ran off on his own with his buddies from the birthday party (the real reason we were there). ...while C and I ended up over by the indoor slide. In a cavernous room full of electronic fun and promises, my Mr. C is on the slide, grinning and calmly making a girlfriend. Later, as he clung to the steering wheel on the animated, moving and bucking monster truck ride, two girls crawled up on the hood screaming "Whee!!!!"-I've got to keep on eye on this little Fabio.
The party lasted two hours. We left in one hour fifty. Because I could tell that we were starting to turn mushy, cranky and over loaded. But all in all, I was surprised. The boys had just the right amount of fun and chaos. We emerged unscathed. But I'll have to say that the best part of it all actually happened in the bathroom after C alerted me he HAD to go. (We have been having bathroom issues-he's too busy to actually go and doesn't mind if he doesn't-frustrating for sure. I told him we'd have to leave the party if an accident occurred as that was not allowed at birthday parties). So off we sprinted to the bathroom where he was just a tad bit wet.....and here's what transpired,
"Mommy?"
"Yes"
"Do you think he knows?"
"Who knows?
"Do you think that Chuckie knows?
"Knows what?"
"That I'm a little wet."
"Oh no, buddy, Chuckie doesn't know-you stopped what you were doing and we made it to the bathroom. I'm proud of you (I was)."
"Oh good, because Chuckie wouldn't like that right?"
He he he...oh no, Chuckie wouldn't like that.....maybe I should use this Chuckie thing for as long as I can ...then again, if I don't, we may be able to hold off a Chuckie adventure for another 6 years-here's to hoping.

Monday, January 18, 2010

Thank You Ms. Tharp



I just finished reading Twlya Tharp's The Creative Habit. It was quite perfectly the perfect book for the place I am in right now.
Why do we do what we do?
How do we do what we do?
When can we do what we do?
What's the point of what we do?
What happens when there's little inspiration?
What happens when there's too much?
How do we feel about what we do? And keep on doing it.
It's not a self help type book. I'm not a self help book person (no offense), although I do love me a good enlightening quote as long as there is not a glossy photograph of an impeccably perfect road lined with autumnal trees bending into the horizon right above (you know those posters).
It's not a do -this- and- you- will -get- that book. It's simply insightful and shines the light on a lot of questions I have always had (see above) all from the perspective of a 60 something brilliant dancer and masterful choreographer. She's been there, she's got some ideas and they are great.
Best of all, I've been thinking a lot lately (there I go again) about how much I thought I would have "done" by now and every once in awhile one of those 27 year old cute little designer/artist types will get the best of me with how much stuff they put out (and I do enjoy them don't get me wrong)....

Tharp puts it so concisely,
"I was 58 years old when I finally felt like a master choreographer....For the first time in my career I felt in control of all of the components that go into making a dance-the music, the steps, the patterns, the deployment of people onstage, the clarity of purpose. Finally I had the skills to close the gap between what I could see in my mind and what I could actually get on stage."

"What's wrong with getting better as you get more work under your belt? The libraries and archives and museums are packed with early bloomers and one trick ponies who said everything they had to say in their first novel, who could only compose one good tune, whose canvases kept repeating the same dogged theme. My respect has always gone to those who are in it for the long haul. When people who have demonstrated talent fizzle out or disappear after early creative success, it's not because their gifts abandoned them; more likely they abandoned their gift through a failure of perspiration."

Well said, well said.....people, I know I'm in it for the long haul, rolling up my sleeves, sweating through my cardigans, happy with the grooves, trying to navigate the ruts and bridging that gap between what's in my mind (or not sometimes) and what's on paper. I hope you are too.
(Now, read the book-you'll be glad you did).

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Grandparents



oh the dolls
we buy these days
gone are the strapped-in dollies
safe in the car, buckled up
like the child's precious insides
tapping shoes on the ends of your tighted legs
greasy window finger tips trace
look
the moon follows us
follows our car
and only us
alone on the highway home
from candyland.

been missing my grandparents lately......been thinking about friends who are saying their goodbyes to theirs....I wrote the poem above about my trips as a child coming home from my beloved grandparents apartment when they lived in Towson, Maryland...it was about an hour and half drive, my parents would time it so that the sugar would wear off on the drive home and they would deliver our limp, spoiled little bodies into bed after we crashed in the car...the moon following us the whole way.

Friday, January 08, 2010

My Evil Plan....


My husband will tell you that I will do anything to get what I want (well, I will whine a lot).....and so people it looks like I am finally going to get my 8GB IPod ITouch....whew, and all it took was getting a serious auto-immune disease. If I had known that it would be so simple I would have triggered the disease long ago.
Thank goodness,  my evil plan finally worked (insert Plankton evil laugh).

It's confirmed that I do have Celiac (oh and I am also allergic to eggs and peanut-bonus!) and so now I JUST HAVE TO HAVE the app called "Is this Gluten Free?", of course. And I will need to get the 300 dollar I Pod to get it. Wow, this disease is expensive! I've been eying my father's for quite awhile now and my sister's too. My little Nano is sagging at the seams, so full of music and This American Life podcasts.You've just got to look at the bright side right?

Yesterday, my mother in law said she saw in the post that Nut Allergies are OUT and Celiac Disease is IN....well, I've always been a trendsetter....I mean what can I say in 2010, I'll be wearing my unitard with thigh high boots with my cupcake trucks (what?).

So, 2009 you are OUT. I am so done with you. 2010 is going to be gluten free, egg free and peanut free but thankfully full of apps and good music. (Now when Bobby reads this-I know I am not going to get one from him for my birthday in February-the deal is NOT to ask for what you want or you will NOT get it.....unless of course, it's a unitard, yikes!)

Saturday, January 02, 2010

Colinisim for the New Year

Over pizza at the Pizza Hut express at out local Target ( I am trying so hard NOT to eat the pizza-back on my GF diet)....Colin says out of the blue....
"Mom, what if my legs got chopped off? That would be really ouchy."
"Oh, yes Colin that would not be good," I reply.
"Yes and then all of my food would fall out."
 He jumps off his chair and begins a little jig in between the cafe tables.
"Look Mom, I'm tap dancing."

It's quite a finale to his thoughtful insight and perfect since, thank goodness, he still has his legs!