Just when you think you might not make it, just when you think that one more day off might kill you, just when you feel that one more "idle" day of making tents and snacks and lunch and breakfast and messes and doing laundry and prying lost crayons from the puppy's mouth and calming down yet another tantrum and once again explaining the lack of favorite breakfast food despite rising protests and mopping up the muddy floor and catching another runny nose and hoping that one more cup of coffee might save you - just then, he says something like this:
"Mom, don't you just love this wonderful life we have together?"
His eyes gaze into yours and you know that you would gladly be the mother of a five year old and a three year old forever. You understand in a flash that this is all too fleeting and you regret your loss of patience and you remember your joy. You set down that worthless cup of coffee and you hug that boy, smarter at five than you are at 32, and you hug him with all of your might.
And later, when they run excitedly into their classrooms on the first day back after a week-long vacation, you miss them both like crazy and you can't wait for 11:20, when they will be back at your side with requests for tent making and crayon coloring and snacks and lunch. The kitchen floor suddenly looks quite lovely with the patina left behind by muddy boots. I would not trade this life for anything and it is, indeed, wonderful.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
So Much To Say
After a year-long venture of house-hunting, house-selling, house-buying, house-moving, and finally settling in, there is much to say. So much to say that there is no good place to start, not one finite point at which the story picks up and continues. So instead of trying to play catch-up, I will dust off this keyboard and start with today. Today I am sitting in my new-to-me kitchen in my 109 year old house, looking out the bank of windows that frame our kitchen's banquette, watching the snow come down in big, puffy flakes that blanket the yard, the swingset, and the pool beyond.
I am loving this new house. It is old, and the wear shows in many places - 109 years builds up a good amount of wear! There are dings in the trim and patches in the hardwood floors, and ancient windows that no longer open and shut. But there is goodness, too, in the littlest of details here, there, and everywhere. I appreciate the stamped door hinges, the rounded wall in the upstairs hall, the canning shelves in backmost basement room, the scrolled wood on the fireplace...so many things are good that I have gotten used to the things that aren't so good. This kitchen is cold, both in temperature and aesthetics, but it has a good deal of space and we can make do until we have the money to make it our own - I know that one day it will be the coziest spot in our home. Until then, I have gotten used to putting on a sweatshirt when I want to linger here and it seems fitting that the chilliest room in our house is also where the teakettle is put to good and frequent use. This is my favorite place to sit in the late afternoons; while the sun splashes across the table I knit and watch Harry and Emma play outside with our dogs.
Speaking of dogs, while writing this I have had to get up at least ten times to rescue an odd shoe, slipper or glove from the jaws of the monster puppy, our newest addition to the family. New because we lost our beloved Riley during the holidays to cancer, and our house just seemed wrong without two dogs. So Ginger is here now and she is as spicy and naughty as the name suggests. We adore her and find her impossible in equal turns; our plan is to weather this first year of her life as well as possible until she settles in and becomes the good dog we know she will be. But Puppyhood! Oh my, I had forgotten how tough you can be!
Emma has a static cling problem. Winters here are dry, dry, dry, and her hair is constantly crackling. It is a static mess that clings to her face but she refuses to tie it back. It drives me a little crazy, the way it is constantly both stuck to her face and aflight in a perfect halo of wildness around her head and I find myself trying to tuck it behind her ears lately, which she hates, in the same way that I hated it as a child when my mother tried to tuck my own static-challenged locks behind my ears. I guess some things never change. She has had a growth spurt in the last month and the jeans I just bought are already looking short. Pre-school has brought about so many changes in her demeanor, a bloom of girl child that amazes us and a blight of girl attitude that makes us inwardly cringe, knowing that the teenage years will make this seem pale in comparison. She has definitive ideas about fashion, spends hours a day on artwork, and will be glad to dance it out in the kitchen with you as long as you agree to play some of her self-professed favorite band: Weezer. She talks with her hands with big, expressive gestures that make us giggle. She is funny, wildly funny, and we simply cannot imagine what life would be like without her.
I am recently the mother of a five year old, the fact of which nearly blows my mind. I have moments when I can perfectly picture Harry as a young adult - a certain glance, or the way he stands just so, makes me see him as he promises to be one day. At other times he is very much the baby boy I met in an airport hallway, the one who sprung me, ready or not, into motherhood. We registered him for kindergarten two weeks ago. Kindergarten! Holy cow, time flies by and they grow and suddenly we're faced with the impending doom of homework. I feel, quite acutely, the passing of time with him and I wonder if he feels it, too. He is reading, not just sounding out words but knowing them at first sight and getting ahead of me in books. He reads the newspaper headlines while we eat breakfast, the words on billboards while we drive, and he has an insatiable appetite for books, even sleeping with them tucked beneath his pillow. He plows through life, setting the standard and leading the way for his sister to follow, a task that is both a blessing and a burden on his little shoulders. He is a great, great boy, still moving ahead with that force that has always been his.
Brendan is in the basement working out. (Hours have passed since I first started this post...the kids are in bed, or should be, and night has fallen outside of my kitchen windows. It is still snowing, but softly now; it is no longer in such a hurry to accumulate.) We had to wedge his univeral weight set into the first room on the basement and it just barely fit at all. The treadmill lives in the kitchen now, a severe lack of headroom in the basement making running at treadmill height impossible for him. He has been such a good sport about this. He gave up a lot in this move, man-room wise, but he has weathered it in good spirits and we are trying to find ways to accomodate the things that don't seem to fit. People did not think about home gyms in 1901, I suppose. When he is done working out we'll watch LOST in high definition on his new flat screen, and suddenly it won't seem so bad that he had to work out crammed into that basement.
I have to end this post and insist that a certain five year old go to sleep now, despite his seeming need to stand at the window and watch the snow come down. He is beyond excited with tomorrow's potential for sledding in Crandall Park, but if he doesn't get some sleep he'll be too tired to climb back up the hill when his run is done.
I am loving this new house. It is old, and the wear shows in many places - 109 years builds up a good amount of wear! There are dings in the trim and patches in the hardwood floors, and ancient windows that no longer open and shut. But there is goodness, too, in the littlest of details here, there, and everywhere. I appreciate the stamped door hinges, the rounded wall in the upstairs hall, the canning shelves in backmost basement room, the scrolled wood on the fireplace...so many things are good that I have gotten used to the things that aren't so good. This kitchen is cold, both in temperature and aesthetics, but it has a good deal of space and we can make do until we have the money to make it our own - I know that one day it will be the coziest spot in our home. Until then, I have gotten used to putting on a sweatshirt when I want to linger here and it seems fitting that the chilliest room in our house is also where the teakettle is put to good and frequent use. This is my favorite place to sit in the late afternoons; while the sun splashes across the table I knit and watch Harry and Emma play outside with our dogs.
Speaking of dogs, while writing this I have had to get up at least ten times to rescue an odd shoe, slipper or glove from the jaws of the monster puppy, our newest addition to the family. New because we lost our beloved Riley during the holidays to cancer, and our house just seemed wrong without two dogs. So Ginger is here now and she is as spicy and naughty as the name suggests. We adore her and find her impossible in equal turns; our plan is to weather this first year of her life as well as possible until she settles in and becomes the good dog we know she will be. But Puppyhood! Oh my, I had forgotten how tough you can be!
Emma has a static cling problem. Winters here are dry, dry, dry, and her hair is constantly crackling. It is a static mess that clings to her face but she refuses to tie it back. It drives me a little crazy, the way it is constantly both stuck to her face and aflight in a perfect halo of wildness around her head and I find myself trying to tuck it behind her ears lately, which she hates, in the same way that I hated it as a child when my mother tried to tuck my own static-challenged locks behind my ears. I guess some things never change. She has had a growth spurt in the last month and the jeans I just bought are already looking short. Pre-school has brought about so many changes in her demeanor, a bloom of girl child that amazes us and a blight of girl attitude that makes us inwardly cringe, knowing that the teenage years will make this seem pale in comparison. She has definitive ideas about fashion, spends hours a day on artwork, and will be glad to dance it out in the kitchen with you as long as you agree to play some of her self-professed favorite band: Weezer. She talks with her hands with big, expressive gestures that make us giggle. She is funny, wildly funny, and we simply cannot imagine what life would be like without her.
I am recently the mother of a five year old, the fact of which nearly blows my mind. I have moments when I can perfectly picture Harry as a young adult - a certain glance, or the way he stands just so, makes me see him as he promises to be one day. At other times he is very much the baby boy I met in an airport hallway, the one who sprung me, ready or not, into motherhood. We registered him for kindergarten two weeks ago. Kindergarten! Holy cow, time flies by and they grow and suddenly we're faced with the impending doom of homework. I feel, quite acutely, the passing of time with him and I wonder if he feels it, too. He is reading, not just sounding out words but knowing them at first sight and getting ahead of me in books. He reads the newspaper headlines while we eat breakfast, the words on billboards while we drive, and he has an insatiable appetite for books, even sleeping with them tucked beneath his pillow. He plows through life, setting the standard and leading the way for his sister to follow, a task that is both a blessing and a burden on his little shoulders. He is a great, great boy, still moving ahead with that force that has always been his.
Brendan is in the basement working out. (Hours have passed since I first started this post...the kids are in bed, or should be, and night has fallen outside of my kitchen windows. It is still snowing, but softly now; it is no longer in such a hurry to accumulate.) We had to wedge his univeral weight set into the first room on the basement and it just barely fit at all. The treadmill lives in the kitchen now, a severe lack of headroom in the basement making running at treadmill height impossible for him. He has been such a good sport about this. He gave up a lot in this move, man-room wise, but he has weathered it in good spirits and we are trying to find ways to accomodate the things that don't seem to fit. People did not think about home gyms in 1901, I suppose. When he is done working out we'll watch LOST in high definition on his new flat screen, and suddenly it won't seem so bad that he had to work out crammed into that basement.
I have to end this post and insist that a certain five year old go to sleep now, despite his seeming need to stand at the window and watch the snow come down. He is beyond excited with tomorrow's potential for sledding in Crandall Park, but if he doesn't get some sleep he'll be too tired to climb back up the hill when his run is done.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Out and About
While we do not have much to report on the home front - most progress being stalled by the pseudo-hibernation we northerners all tend to succumb to this time of year - we have discovered perhaps the greatest joy of Little City Living: the City itself. Glens Falls is alive and well, I am happy to report!
Last weekend we attended a Phantoms hockey game, my first hockey game at the Glens Falls Civic Center since I was in high school. I will admit that it still felt a little like being in high school, since we ran into a million people we have known since then, but it was really, really fun. Brendan and I both entertain the idea of season passes for next year and we hope the excitement for this new team continues!
We have spent a few lazy mornings and afternoons playing lizard-in-the-sun at Ridge Street Coffee, where the windows are large, the Fat Jerry's are smooth and delicious, and the artwork is ever-changing. What a respite from the cold that place is! Time seems to stand still for a little while when I sit in their sunlit red chair with my kids snuggled close. I kind of wish I was there right now...
The owner of Baker's Dream, Likling Khoo, is nearly personally responsible for that extra cushion around my middle. I mean, I know she didn't force-feed me any of those delicious baked goods, but if they weren't so darned good I would not have felt the need to stop in several times per week! Did I mention our entire family is on a first-name basis with Ms. Khoo? That's how you know you have a problem. Do they have Baked Goods Anonymous? In all seriousness, if you find yourself in a cannoli emergency or if you need an eclair - stat!, then do stop by. Tell them Sara, Harrison, and Emma sent you, and you will be well taken care of.
We have also spent a great deal of time at Crandall Public Library, whose recent renovation has created a welcoming mix of both airy modern and historic spaces. I love that I can still climb the old staircase to the second floor, tracing my fingers along the marble just the way I did when I was a little girl, only these days I am teaching my little boy and girl to enjoy the feel of the cool marble, to appreciate the history in such a place. I love that my children are growing up knowing the value of such an incredible resource. We spend hours in the stacks looking at art books, discovering new favorite children's authors, and sitting in the quiet reading room with piles of pages. When I was little I loved to sit in one particular window in the library, the one that was deep-set and overlooked city park's lovely old trees, and I have recently had the particular delight of watching my children sit in that very window to gaze upon the world beyond. We visit Crandall a few times a week and this is a habit that I am happy to have fallen into.
Crandall Park! How could I have forgotten to mention it? One of the big trade-offs in moving to the city was losing our big yard in the suburbs. I do miss our yard, but the next best thing to having a big yard is having a huge park only a short walk from home. Despite the cold of winter, the park is an active hub in this community, with sledding hills and great fields for snowman-building, lighted trails for snowshoes and cross country skiing, and a pond for hockey and skating. We find it hard not to get out and enjoy the winter when we see so many other families doing just that each day as we pass by the park. I truly think we've been outdoors more this winter than any other winter spent in NY as adults. Hooray for the park!
This has been my happiest winter since coming back to New York and I know it has a lot to do with location, location, location. I love looking out of our windows and seeing other people. Living so close by our neighbors doesn't bother me at all, surprisingly. I thought I cherished the privacy of a country-sized lot, but in reality I like the idea of living like bees in a hive. There is comfort in seeing other chimneys emitting puffs of smoke, in chatting with neighbors while I shovel the walk, in meeting new families while playing at the park...the feeling of community seems to outweigh any feelings of winter isolation. I just don't have those winter blues this year, probably because we are so often out and about.
Last weekend we attended a Phantoms hockey game, my first hockey game at the Glens Falls Civic Center since I was in high school. I will admit that it still felt a little like being in high school, since we ran into a million people we have known since then, but it was really, really fun. Brendan and I both entertain the idea of season passes for next year and we hope the excitement for this new team continues!
We have spent a few lazy mornings and afternoons playing lizard-in-the-sun at Ridge Street Coffee, where the windows are large, the Fat Jerry's are smooth and delicious, and the artwork is ever-changing. What a respite from the cold that place is! Time seems to stand still for a little while when I sit in their sunlit red chair with my kids snuggled close. I kind of wish I was there right now...
The owner of Baker's Dream, Likling Khoo, is nearly personally responsible for that extra cushion around my middle. I mean, I know she didn't force-feed me any of those delicious baked goods, but if they weren't so darned good I would not have felt the need to stop in several times per week! Did I mention our entire family is on a first-name basis with Ms. Khoo? That's how you know you have a problem. Do they have Baked Goods Anonymous? In all seriousness, if you find yourself in a cannoli emergency or if you need an eclair - stat!, then do stop by. Tell them Sara, Harrison, and Emma sent you, and you will be well taken care of.
We have also spent a great deal of time at Crandall Public Library, whose recent renovation has created a welcoming mix of both airy modern and historic spaces. I love that I can still climb the old staircase to the second floor, tracing my fingers along the marble just the way I did when I was a little girl, only these days I am teaching my little boy and girl to enjoy the feel of the cool marble, to appreciate the history in such a place. I love that my children are growing up knowing the value of such an incredible resource. We spend hours in the stacks looking at art books, discovering new favorite children's authors, and sitting in the quiet reading room with piles of pages. When I was little I loved to sit in one particular window in the library, the one that was deep-set and overlooked city park's lovely old trees, and I have recently had the particular delight of watching my children sit in that very window to gaze upon the world beyond. We visit Crandall a few times a week and this is a habit that I am happy to have fallen into.
Crandall Park! How could I have forgotten to mention it? One of the big trade-offs in moving to the city was losing our big yard in the suburbs. I do miss our yard, but the next best thing to having a big yard is having a huge park only a short walk from home. Despite the cold of winter, the park is an active hub in this community, with sledding hills and great fields for snowman-building, lighted trails for snowshoes and cross country skiing, and a pond for hockey and skating. We find it hard not to get out and enjoy the winter when we see so many other families doing just that each day as we pass by the park. I truly think we've been outdoors more this winter than any other winter spent in NY as adults. Hooray for the park!
This has been my happiest winter since coming back to New York and I know it has a lot to do with location, location, location. I love looking out of our windows and seeing other people. Living so close by our neighbors doesn't bother me at all, surprisingly. I thought I cherished the privacy of a country-sized lot, but in reality I like the idea of living like bees in a hive. There is comfort in seeing other chimneys emitting puffs of smoke, in chatting with neighbors while I shovel the walk, in meeting new families while playing at the park...the feeling of community seems to outweigh any feelings of winter isolation. I just don't have those winter blues this year, probably because we are so often out and about.
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