Ten years ago, David and I would lounge in bed in our pajamas and nap all day long and watch various movies or TV series and talk about plans for the future and our ideas about the spectrum of ideas. It was luxurious and we felt self-important in our lovely perfection of love. Sometimes I would turn to David and say that all I wanted was to work as a “model of love,” where we could just exist like this, be together, adventure, and never have to worry about money or jobs or bills. Maybe if we win the lotto we can revisit that!
This morning we woke up after getting to bed too late, and being disturbed from our blissful slumber by a little three year old seeking some help in the bathroom, and after the alarm sounded to say, “The day begins.” It was less luxurious but even in this moment of sleep-deprivation, David was the person I rolled over to see through bleary eyes. We might not be modeling the best of ourselves all the time because life gets in the way of life when two tiny humans are thrown into the mix of things, but we are still modeling our imperfectly perfect-for-us-kind-of-love and I am grateful and appreciative and very much in love still with this partner of mine. And yes, Hallmark made me reflect today on these sentiments with their manufactured Valentine’s Day, but when we get busy and overwhelmed it is all too easy to forget our beginning and how awesome these ten plus years together have been. The soft-spots in our marriage are inevitable, but I am so glad that I have an opportunity to reflect and love that same man who swept me off my feet. So cheers to the sappy holiday and cheers to renewing our commitment to being “models of love,” (and allowing our love to shift and change and ebb and flow through the different stages and phases).
After weeks of anticipation, the misshapen first products of this new potter are that much closer to coming home for “use.” After throwing, centering, drying, trimming, pulling handles, adding handles, stamping, firing, glazing, and firing again, the end of the pottery term of classes is coinciding with the completion of 8 creations. I say creations because when you see the final products, they clearly represent loose interpretations of bowls, mugs, vases, and plates. And there is definitely an “evolution” of “skill.” But even if they are childlike in their execution, I am pretty proud of them. It felt so exciting to learn a new craft and to see tiny improvements each week. Getting jazzed about Tuesday nights and accessing a part of myself I haven’t explicitly connected with in too long shifted my mindset and perspective all week long. While I might have been tired on Wednesday mornings after crawling into bed at 11PM on Tuesday, it felt oddly rejuvenating to just do something different and to have something tangible to bring home in exchange for stepping out of that comfort zone. When registration opens for the Spring Term, I am for sure going to sign up for this venture. Some big life goals now are to replace all my mugs at home with ones I have made and to be able to feel like being called a “potter” is a just label to be assigned through my practice and dedication to honing and throwing clay. An even bigger idea that will take time building towards might even be to open a little booth in a summer-of-the-future’s farmer’s market in town. It feels really rewarding and enriching to get my hands messy and to make. And I am hoping keep on keeping on.
Much of the day of mommyhood is processing and responding to funny, sweet, and weird phrases, conversations and requests from Henry and Owen. So many of these parenting gems have been lost to the abyss of noise that is forever constant from sunrise to sunset, but every now and then, I have enough mental clarity to recall from my working memories those little sillies and jot them down for posterity. And then add to this an assortment of the many socially acceptable behaviors we try to encourage and discourage the boys from doing in an attempt to socialize them to the cultural norms they are a part of.
From the parents:
No, you can’t lick your brother
Don’t touch your butthole or you will get pink eye
Eating a cake pop off the floor of Starbucks is yucky
Did you pee pee on the couch? Where should we go to the bathroom?
Buster doesn’t want you to ride on him
From the babies & toddlers:
Let’s play pretend tiger. What is that? It is when I roar at you and then you scream and then say wait you are just pretend.
Baby in there, as Owen points to my boob
I have an idea, how about I eat my dinner and then we go to CVS for a new toy?
Can we play hide the ball? I will hide it first….okay ready Owen runs over to the hidden spot and points to where the ball is. No, Owen stop it, be more fun.
Ce Ce Ja Ja? Puppy Ja Ja? Santa Pajamas or Puppy Pajamas what Owen wants to wear all day everyday.
Can we just do dinner and a show? Trying to have dinner small talk and Henry would prefer to do otherwise. Ha Ha nice try kid!
Hands mommy Hands! Any time we ride in the car, Owen gets his shoes off and slides his socks onto his hands. His proudest moment.
Tonight the GOAT, Tom Brady, takes to the field for yet another run for a Super Bowl win. While the game may be exciting, the commercials are known to create a Twitter trend too. A few years ago, I think it was Budweiser, had a series called “unsung heroes.” This thirty seconds praised random people for silly and what might at first seem like insignificant talents. However they were true feats of strength like the bathroom user who replaces the toilet paper roll or the individual brave enough to take that last bite of the appetizer before the waiter removes the plate.
On Thursday, I had my greatest moment! While I might have been in labor for 17 hours with Henry only to push out his chunky 9lb 12oz body and then headed back for another baby born naturally almost on route 9 because he was so fast and intense, Thursday trumps both of these moments in stick-to-it-ness and mind control! My co-worker is baking beautiful artisan breads and on Thursday morning while I sat in the faculty room for my prep, this kind coworker gifted me half a loaf. The feat of strength then commenced!
I sat beside that loaf of bread a mere twelve inches from my nose for two hours!!! I made multiple attempts to unwrap it from its cellophane but just before I peeled a layer, I stopped myself. Let’s all just agree that there might not be a better smell than bread. No matter what the grocery store smells like as soon as you hit the bakery aisle don’t you smile? Is that just me? Clearly a fresh loaf is my trigger. But at 3:25 on the fateful day, I walked to the car with the loaf intact proud that I resisted its temptations and prepared to share my sacrificed loaf with the family!