Driving versus dishes
A funny thing. I’ve started to enjoy the trips in the car to deliver and collect children from their various activities. If I’m alone, I turn on the radio and cruise between CBC Radio One (talk) and CBC Radio Two (music). If I’ve got a kid or two in behind, it’s a chance to talk. We drive through the dark that comes so early at this time of year, watching carefully for pedestrians and cyclists. (Side note: we didn’t spot one cyclist wearing a helmet, let alone reflective clothing or lights, on the university campus yesterday; we even saw a young man skateboarding in the bike lane of a busy street, going the wrong way! Needless to say, he wasn’t wearing a helmet either, because really, if you’re skateboarding in the bike lane going the wrong way after dark, you’re clearly not concerned about head injury. This sparked a conversation about safety and being young and feeling invincible. “Why is it that the things people think are cool are risky or dangerous?” my daughter asked. Well. Why indeed?).
But anyway. The conversations range. It’s always interesting.
And as long as we’re not late, I have a feeling of contentment, of easily-fulfilled purpose. It’s emotionally uncomplicated. It’s relaxing, even. Maybe that’s because it’s so much simpler to drive from swimming to soccer, to tie a shoelace, to greet other parents, to drop off a carpooling extra, than to be at home with the remaining children over the same time, supervising piano practice and homework and doing dishes and laundry. Four out of five weeknights, that’s where I am. Last night, I asked Kevin to trade places, since he happened not to be coaching anyone. When I returned home from my drive, I noticed he had a harrassed impatience about him that is often mine as snacktime gets dragged out and children begin lying on the floor and complaining about tooth brushing.
Situations do that to a person. And I could walk through the door, all fresh and relaxed after completing my pleasant errands, and be the voice of reason. Which is really irritating to the person who’s been stuck at home with the homework and the dishes. Which makes me think that the more we share jobs, the happier we all will be; or at least the more sympathetic.
Happy face, sad face
What we have here are the two smallest soccer players in our family, each mugging for the camera in his or her own unique way. CJ has recently started a “soccer fun” program with Kevin coaching his team (but of course), and Fooey has decided to join as assistant coach. She even managed to get into the team photo.
I’m distracted, but in a good way. After four frustrating days of not meeting my writing targets, oh so carefully scheduled out, and oh so vulnerable to the vicissitudes of family life, I’ve now enjoyed two days back to back of good hard work. I appreciate when the playing field is level and the only opponent I’ve got is my own discipline.
So if you notice an absence here, a pause now and again, you’ll know what I’m up to. I’m living in another time, getting to know some other people. Maybe you’ll meet them someday too.
The best-laid birthday plans
Saturday evening, basement “studio”, still nine years old
yup, that’s Shakespeare
Alright. This birthday did not turn out as planned. Honestly, it’s been a tough week, and we’ve tried to roll with the punches, but we really didn’t anticipate this particular change in plans. There they were, Kevin and the little kids all snacked up and ready to go, swim kid freshly out of the pool, dressed in soccer gear, hitting the highway for today’s game. Here we were, Albus getting to skip out on the soccer trip, and me getting in a few exciting and much-needed hours of writing work, when the phone rang.
“It’s Dad! The truck broke down!”
Luckily they’d made it off the highway and into a parking lot, much safer than sitting by the side of the road. Luckily we are members of our local carshare, so I booked a car immediately and off we set on a mission to pick them up. Unluckily for us, there was a problem with the car. Luckily for us, the woman at the carshare hotline picked up quickly and directed us to a different car just a few blocks away. Unluckily for us, it only seated five. Luckily for us, Kevin got a ride with the tow truck driver.
But there was the afternoon. No writing. No soccer girl at soccer game. No cupcakes to teammates.
AppleApple was upset at first, and then sanguine. She’ll take the cupcakes to her teammates at the Thursday practice instead. Back home, she put on her PJs, got cozy, and everyone watched a movie. I went to my soccer game. With help from Grandma, we were able to get out to celebrate at our favourite restaurant for birthday dinners. In short, it all worked out just fine.
Just not as planned.
Sunday evening, basement “studio,” barefoot in purple coat, now ten years old
If I don’t get a day to write, soon, I may, however, go crazy. My equilibrium is off. I didn’t run enough this weekend. I need to remember how to stay strong, no matter the weather; mostly I need to remember not to be so hard on myself. (I made one misstep at soccer that cost our team the win; we tied instead; I was so down on myself afterward that I contemplated quitting. Tonight, Albus walked home with me from the carshare drop-off spot, and I told him how I’d felt, and he was quite shocked. Sounded silly to him. One mistake and you want to quit? I know, I said, it’s just how I felt in the moment. He understood. But, he said, I’m pretty sure your team wouldn’t want you to quit for one mistake.) I need to let those moments of discouragement, or failure, or just plain wishing it were otherwise to wash over me. It’s okay to feel that way, just so long as it doesn’t actually cause me to quit or give up or storm off. Know what I mean?
We all went around the table tonight and said something we like about AppleApple. Fooey likes that AppleApple is teaching her how to sew. I like that AppleApple is inspiring with all she tries and all she does. Albus said AppleApple is good to chat with. Kevin likes AppleApple’s crazy smile she gets when she’s very excited about something. CJ was grumpy and refused to participate, but that’s because the ice cream was late coming to the table. Or because he’s four and a half, who knows.
AppleApple had one too: She said, I like being me!
She is an inspiring kid. I’m inspired by all my kids. Each of them try and do all kinds of new things. They’re brave. They’re willing to learn, happy to learn. They take practicing for granted — of course you have to do it in order to get better! And they’re willing to fall down and get up and try again. Which is, come to think of it, something they get to see me do, too, from time to time.
Happy birthday, ten-year-old daughter. You are inspiring, for real.
Cupcake factory
Tomorrow (Sunday) my biggest girl turns 10. She’s got swimming practice and a soccer game, back to back, and no desire to skip either. What she wants, instead, is to bring treats for her teammates.
I thought we’d accomodate by picking something up at the grocery store on our way. That’s a lot of kids!
But she was thinking homemade. She’d even looked up recipes.
Well, it is her birthday. And her birthday list is so humble and dear it includes requests for kiwi, mango, and pomegranate. (Done!) She’d also like books: a thesaurus, horse books, soccer books, fantasy books, and Shakespeare plays.
So we spent the afternoon, with a friend, making a quadruple batch of cupcakes from scratch. Quite the cupcake factory. Recipes posted below.
Boston Cupcakes (adapted from Fannie Farmer)
makes 50+ large cupcakes
Cream 20 tbsp of butter. Slowly add and beat in 4 cups of white sugar. When it’s nice and fluffy, add in 8 eggs, one at a time, and beat. Add and mix in 3 tsp vanilla.
In a separate bowl, sift together 5 cups of flour, 8 tsp baking powder, and 1 tsp salt.
Add dry mixture by cups to wet, mixing all the while (we used a standing-mixer).
Add and mix in 2 cups of milk.
Line cupcake trays with papers and fill each cup about two-thirds with batter. Bake for 20-25 minutes at 350.
Chocolate Frosting
In a double boiler, melt 4 ounces unsweetened chocolate with 4 tbsp butter and 2/3 of a cup of milk. Cool to lukewarm and add 4 cups of icing sugar (at least) and 2 tsp vanilla. Add icing sugar slowly, beating all the while, until you reach the desired consistency. Makes more than enough.
One good thing about not having a dishwasher
this morning, convalescing kid with companions
Recently I sat down and wrote out a schedule. My goal was to identify any spare pockets of time into which I could slot one of the following activities: exercise, writing, social time, Kevin time, and cleaning. (My standards are low, but even basic maintenance for a family of six without a dishwasher requires a little effort every day.) I discovered a few extra spots for running or yoga, plus worked out my strategy for maximizing my writing hours (hint: it involves scheduling separate time for email). Social time seems to be the hardest to come by.
But I did find an extra fifteen minutes here and there to throw at vacuuming and cleaning out cupboards and filing the stacks of paper that fly into the house and somehow multiply and spread to every available surface. To which I say, Whoo-hoo, without much enthusiasm.
But now I’ve got a kid home sick, and the schedule’s gone out the window. This is temporary, right? Right??
Last night, I visited another book club, my fifth this fall. I’ll admit that I was exhausted and drained after spending the previous night at the hospital, but I had a feeling that I needed not to cancel last-minute. I needed to go. And didn’t I! I was hosted by a group of mothers and daughters whose comforting warmth and welcome restored my energies. You just never know when these unexpected gifts are going to arrive. I returned home feeling repaired and strengthened by the evening.
I also got to show the book club the reprinted version of The Juliet Stories, which arrived yesterday. Oh my goodness! It looks quite different: GG finalist sticker embedded in the cover design, and new quotes from reviews on the back and front.
Kevin has made me a little gift: he put together a video with photos from this past month’s GG adventure, set over top of the clip on The Juliet Stories that was played on Monday evening on CBC radio’s As It Happens. Small story about that clip: I got to listen to it twice. First, I heard it live. I was washing the dishes, and I always listen to the CBC while washing the dishes (perhaps this is reason enough to remain dishwasher-free). Kevin was at a soccer game with AppleApple and the other kids were playing soccer in the rainy dark backyard, and suddenly there was my name and then my voice. I didn’t call the kids in. I listened alone, appreciating the quiet. What a sweet life moment. An hour later, the whole family got to hear it together: we streamed it from the Winnipeg station online. AppleApple was beaming from ear to ear: her Halloween costume is mentioned in the intro. (Several of her siblings were slightly jealous.) When my reading came on, CJ said, “Who is that?!” “Who do you think?” And he was suddenly too shy to say, but he knew.
Click here to see the video. Thanks, Kevin. It’s quite the keepsake.