Shanamadele’s Coffee Break
Pet Peeve #162How about now?
So, we cut my son’s hair for the first time about two weeks ago.
He went from this:
and this
to this
My beautiful, wild baby is now an ordinary little boy. Beautiful, but tamer. I expect quieter, more settled, more mature behavior. I’m shocked that he’s still three.
Nothing, of course, has really changed, except that he no longer has all the hair he’s ever had. But the haircut also marks a transition into his childhood of formal schooling, with its reading, ‘riting and ‘rithmatic, as well as expectations that his moral training begin.
I fear that he will be cut less slack for being incapable of understanding, empathizing. But he is still three, despite the haircut. The internal changes will not come as quickly and dramatically as the external ones.
Restless, nothing to say, go look at this blog
Can’t seem to sleep. Been meaning to write about my son’s Upshirin, about cutting his hair for the first time, about taming his wildness, finding my expectations of him changing based on his new look.
Not going to do that. At least not right now.
Instead, go look at this blog, especially Unpackging the Jewish Knapsack.
See the end of that tunnel up ahead?
No train – a genuine light.
We have a family bed — all of us sleep together in a king-sized futon and have each night since Butternut was born.
About a year ago, we got a twin-sized futon to put at the end of the big bed. Our goal was to slowly move out of that room and eventually discard the king-sized futon.
Last night, Butternut declared that he wanted to sleep in his own bedroom. “Do you know what that means?” asked Pumpkin. “I will sleep for hours and hours by myself,” said Butternut. Actually, we were thinking about the part where he goes to sleep by himself and told him so. I did not tell him how my heart leapt with joy (followed by a twinge of mama guilt) at the hours of evening we might suddenly be gaining.
We’ve talked with him sporadically about having him have his own room, but this feels really out of the blue. After leaving him for about 15 minutes, Pumpkin went up to find Butternut lying still but awake in the quiet dark and sank into bed next to him after cries of “Papa, I need you.”
Still, the precedent has been set. We are progressing toward having adult time again. I am losing the closeness of his small body snuggled next to mine after hours of separation during the day. This phase of separating from our son is bittersweet.
The new normal
5 a.m. Get up. Find clothes to wear. Wash a few dishes, pick up clutter in public living areas.
5:30 a.m. Shower, dress, etc.
6:10 a.m. Make smoothie, coffee, pack lunch
6:30 a.m. blow hair dry
6:40 a.m. Leave house to pick up van pool
6:50 a.m. Drive van to work.
7:50 a.m. Analyze, argue, read, consider, discuss (10 %). Oh, and meet and write memos (40 %). Also, put out fires (50%).
noon Over lunch, hit the interwebs or head to yoga, if not continuing with 7:50 a.m. pursuits.
1 p.m. See 7:50 a.m. Repeat.
5 p.m. Leave for van
5:10 p.m. Ride home – hit the interwebs or read or fail to escape chatty van rider.
6:15 p.m. Eat dinner with family. Endure tantrums, enjoy giggles, clean up. Possibly go for a short walk.
7:30 p.m. Begin bedtime routine.
9 p.m. End bedtime routine. Good night: climb sleepily out of bed and clean dishes, fold laundry, pick up house, clean until 10 p.m. Most nights: fall asleep and fall woefully behind.
Rinse, repeat. Weekend variations include longer walks with kid during the day, play dates, playground visits and menu planning and grocery shopping. W00t.
gratitude
Today, I am grateful. I am. And it is easy today to feel grateful
Yesterday, the day before, the week before, for a while, I could not find the gratitude.
That’s why there are blessings. That’s why there are religious and meditative practices. Gratidtude must be cultivated. I must cultivate gratitude.
Must?
Only if I want to be happy. And I do want to be happy. I want to be happy.
I’m grateful for the sunshine of the last few days.
I’m grateful for this long commute, which is allowing me to check things out, write, think. (I am also grateful for the other vanpool driver.)
I’m grateful to be headed home — my beautiful home with my loving partner and sweet, healthy Boo Bear.
I’m grateful to have had the luxury of spending my lunch hour practicing yoga.
