I came across this very short poem I wrote about Wren when she was turning two. She was full of energy and joy (as a matter of fact, she still is). One of our favorite things to do together was to walk around the little circle in our old neighborhood. She loved going outside to play no matter the weather.
The other thing about Wren was that her speech was slightly delayed. I yearned for her to talk so I could know her desires… her dislikes… her imagination… her. I’d get one word out of her, but I wanted more.
This poem was jotted down in the late winter long after the beauty of the first snowfall and I was getting antsy for Spring like I do every March. The structure of this poem is akin to the Wheel of Fortune “before and after” theme. Enjoy.
Snow, Flower, Sun and Rainbow
The robin in the white
A word she knows so well.
I hope she’ll learn
Flower, sun and rainbow
Should be here soon.
“Wren, what do you want to be when you grow up?”
“I want to be an astronaut. I want to go to Mars and plant flowers. But first I’m going to the moon.”
Wren, age 4
“Chickadee, what do you want to be when you grow up?”
Chickadee, age 3
This is my first day of the first week since having children that I feel like I can have the morning to do whatever I want. So I went for a “run.”
I last went for a “run” at the gym last winter. I did pretty horribly back then (like 16 minute miles), so I wasn’t expecting myself to make any accomplishments other than getting to the stop sign at the half mile mark and eventually getting back.
Not only did I go further, but I actually managed to “run” further without walking breaks and to “run” further than intended. And that makes me worried.
The best part about being a fair-weather runner is knowing that when you dust off and lace up those shoes, you will do the worst run of the season. You console yourself knowing that not only can it get better but that it must get better.
You see, I’m upset because I did my first “comeback run” better than any of my other “return to running” runs. In fact, I even completed my course faster than my lifetime running average.
Today’s pace: 12’12”
All-time average pace: 12’26”
Best annual average pace (2010): 11:37″
How am I supposed to compete with that? I wasn’t looking for those kinds of goals, so I’ll just keep the next goal simpler for now: Run the 1.4 miles without stopping.
In what amounted to the full efforts of a transcontinental move, our family has relocated itself. Ten minutes down the road. If you had asked me in January where I saw myself by the time pre-school started, I’d have answered in the same spot. I couldn’t have imagined how roughly true that was.
It’s been a strange move. We are officially in a new town, but we go to the same church and grocery store. The only major difference to our out-of-the-house routine is which Target we go to. Our new-to-us neighbors are finally realizing we don’t need tips on what’s what in NoVa.
Preschool started up this week for both girls. They go to the same learning center. They are in new classrooms with new teachers and loving it. We see their old friends out on the playground, and we’re quickly making new friends.
One, a mom, was trying to figure us out. She eventually approached the subject directly when she realized we were parked right next to each other. She thought maybe Wren was my black husband’s child from a previous relationship because there was no way Wren had white blood in her.
I actually get that a lot from people I haven’t seen in ten years… Surely I’ve remarried as one does.
The thing is Wren does have a white great grandmother. I shared that with the mom of the girl in Wren’s class. When we got home, I asked Wren if it bothered her that I talked about her adoption. She’s still very quiet on that subject. Maybe I should take a cue from her.
Yes, I realize the irony that I’m blogging about it.
The chicks and ducklings are well. Despite growing rapidly, they are still content to remain in the wading pool. The largest one is Donald, the duck, who is timid and very mild. The smallest, Shy Guy, is doing well. There still seems to be something off about him, but I think he will survive.
The girls like to accompany me on walks. We go no less than 1/2 mile from home, and I’m astonished each time that I don’t have to carry anyone back up the hill. Susie enjoys being off-leash. She’s turned into a responsible dog in her old age, and I enjoy her steady company.
When we’re not outside, the girls are drawing with markers, playing with blocks, reading their books, or playing with their dolls. It’s just like we are at home. Whenever I need a moment to think, I turn on the television. Napping is still unattainable although I do sometimes manage to get one down.
As for me, well, I have started a new hobby which I will write about on Knit Me For a Loop.
The weather yesterday was just perfection. I didn’t get any pics of the girls in their Easter dresses, and I’m not worried about it. They’ll be in them again soon enough. (For the record, I did get a few pics of them on our walk in their more stylish play clothes.)
I have packed very minimally on this trip. It’s an experiment for me in minimal living. And so far I have realized I don’t need as much as I thought I did.
For example, I packed just two pants, one dress and three skirts for myself. Three short tees, three long tees, one fitted shirt, oh and lots and lots of shoes. I must be doing it right; I have worn more shoes than clothes.
I tried to pack minimally for the girls as well. Three dresses each, and only a fraction of their clothes. Unfortunately, that still amounts to a lot.
The weather today was cold and damp, and I don’t regret bringing extra clothes that could work as layers in a pinch.
The girls’ moods seem to fluctuate as much as the weather. Their lives have been turned upside down. We don’t see daddy anymore except through Facetime chats. It’s been tough on everybody. Not having a schedule hasn’t helped.
Today was the first day we didn’t have any epic meltdowns.
Plus there were naps.
There is hope.
It was just a thought I dismissed as I made the six-hour drive “home.” Could I get the girls a chick or two?
My parents have had a variety of foul on the farm over the years. There have been chickens, geese, doves, ducks, and even emus. These birds found their way to our various houses over the years in a manner of ways. One came home as a result of a school project in which several eggs were hatched in the classroom. Some were purchased at auction. Others were delivered by mail.
When grampa mentioned this very same idea on our gator ride, I let him know I had thought of it as well. We conferred with gramma, and it was settled. The girls were getting chicks. Continue reading