Insomnia

Another great poem by B. Collins.  Appropriate following a night filled with a two-and-a-half hour 3AM.


Insomnia


Even though the house is deeply silent

and the room, with no moon,
is perfectly dark,
even though the body is a sack of exhaustion
inert on the bed,

someone inside me will not
get off his tricycle,
will not stop tracing the same tight circle
on the same green threadbare carpet.

It makes no difference whether I lie
staring at the ceiling
or pace the living-room floor,
he keeps on making his furious rounds,
little pedaler in his frenzy,
my own worst enemy, my oldest friend.

What is there to do but close my eyes
and watch him circling the night,
schoolboy in an ill-fitting jacket,
leaning forward, his cap on backwards,
wringing the handlebars,
maintaining a certain speed?

Does anything exist at this hour
in this nest of dark rooms
but the spectacle of him
and the hope that before dawn
I can lift out some curious detail
that will carry me off to sleep—
the watch that encircles his pale wrist,
the expandable band,
the tiny hands that keep pointing this way and that.

picking a tree

There is something very adult about buying a Christmas tree for your family. -- deciding how much you are willing to pay; having to tell the man at the lot that yes, the noble firs are indeed lovely, but we just can't spend $50 on a tree, and could we please see the one advertised for $14....  

So, you'd like the Charlie Brown Christmas tree?  the guy says, a bit disappointed in us, and points over to a small pallet of about 4 humble trees.  

Absolutely we do!  

My Christmas childhood memories are pretty potent, and I honestly don't remember our trees being anything less than perfect, although looking back now, I would bet everything I own that my lovely wonderful [frugal] father and mother also refused to shell out a small fortune for our tree each year.  Often times my family was super clever, and bought a live tree in a pot, and we just used that for a few years, hauling it in from the yard, until it finally got too big to haul.   

But it was always perfect, even if not perfectly Christmas tree shaped.  

I do remember my dad lopping off one or two extra zealous branches that had grown from the year before, and those, I think, my mom usually ended up using as decoration on the mantle around the Swedish horses and Christmas goats.  

So, we got the $14 tree this year, and guess what.....  it's lovely!  Violet thinks it's the most amazing thing she has ever seen; and really it is perfect, and has been so much fun.  It is a Douglas Fir, which apparently is the poor man's Christmas tree and a lesser form of foliage than the noble grand blue whatevers that will run you a pretty penny.  Christmas snobbery is not a welcome guest at our table.

Tree topper, chosen by Violet O. 

  

Haircut

Before the haircut.... 

I think I forgot to write about the haircut.
Well, a couple of weeks ago I decided that it was high time Violet had a real haircut.  I've been trimming her hair up until this point, and it's been ok.  But her hair has started to confuse me a bit.  I'm not sure how to explain it---  it's as if all the hair on her head grows from one dot way on the back of her crown, and it all grows forward.  In other words, the girl has no natural part.
So I took her to this place just for kids, "Li'l Klippers"--   the name makes me gag a bit, but really they were very good.  Violet got to sit in this chair shaped like a speed boat, and rummage through a bin of random disney toys the whole time.  In our typical way, both she and I were very serious and nervous throughout the whole experience, but afterwards we couldn't stop talking about it, and we were very proud of ourselves for having gone through with it.  And neither one of us cried, which is always a good thing!
Here are some photos, and post-haircut interview.

Ta-Da! 

Pleased as pie, after the haircut!

Thanksgiving

You hit your late twenties, early thirties, and you start to cool on the holidays just a wee bit.  You go through the motions-- the food, the family, the gifts, the music-- and it's all very nice, but it's not quite as it was when you were young.
Well, let me tell you, having a 2.5 year old in the house changes things a bit.  This is the first holiday season that Violet has been completely aware of what's going on, and she is LOVING it.  It's a bit like having our own personal holiday elf in the house.  Just completely overwhelmingly wonderfully ridiculously enthusiastic about it all.  I can't help but have my spirits lifted by this little nymph, even in the wake of losing my cat, and also losing a cherished member of our extended family (Bob Fuerst) recently.

At the end of a hard week and the end of the Thanksgiving weekend, I want to remember those we have recently lost, and also give thanks to those people in my world-- mainly Violet and Tyler-- who make the hard parts of life fall just a little more gently.


While I was rocking Violet the other night, Violet said to me Moon is in heaven.  I responded by asking her What is heaven?  And she said Heaven is the city where Moon went to feel better.  
We are not particularly religious people, but my child is a gentle soul, and somehow this idea of heaven-- a place to be happy and healthy and renewed-- especially in the midst of the holiday season, just seems to speak to all of us.
Bob, we miss you.  I am glad that you and Moon have each other; two of the warmest gentlemen I have ever known; and it warms every inch of me to know that there are two pairs of shining blue eyes now watching over us all.

I'd like to leave you with poem by my favorite poet, Billy Collins...


The Dead

The dead are always looking down on us, they say.
while we are putting on our shoes or making a sandwich,
they are looking down through the glass bottom boats of heaven
as they row themselves slowly through eternity.

They watch the tops of our heads moving below on earth,
and when we lie down in a field or on a couch,
drugged perhaps by the hum of a long afternoon,
they think we are looking back at them,
which makes them lift their oars and fall silent
and wait, like parents, for us to close our eyes.

    

Rest in Peace, Moon

I try to explain to my daughter, Moon isn't coming back; He still loves us, but he died, and she looks at me and says our pumpkin from Halloween died too, just like Moon, and mama and dada are sad because they miss Moon...  and then she tells me a joke to make me feel better Not Trader Joes, Trader Toes!!  

It's really hard to tell how much reality a 2.5 year old needs, and it's hard to know what to say when I'm so unsure about what the reality actually is.  I know the facts--  Moon was very very sick, and I had to put him to sleep yesterday afternoon, and Tyler and I are sad beyond belief.  My little cat died in my arms, and we took him to Whidbey, up to my parents' cabin, and buried him beneath the ferns and morning rain.  After we were done, I looked around me-- at the sky and the water-- and everything was gray and white and soft; a world translated into the downy coat of a siamese cat.  He seemed everywhere.  

Well, everyone has a different opinion about how to relate the death of a pet to your child.  Funny, though, in many ways I think Violet understands the situation more than I give her credit for.  --Or maybe it's just that really, when it comes down to it, the facts don't really matter a whole lot to her.  What she understands is that we are feeling sad because we miss Moon in our house.  We miss feeding him, and pulling a string for him to catch.  We miss giving him hugs.  She really doesn't have a whole lot of interest in why he's gone, or where he's gone; a toddler is pure feeling, not unsimilar to a cat itself; although she is starting to understand that he is gone, and that there has been a change.  So I'm trying to take her lead, and not focus on what I simply don't know and can't explain... and focus more on how we are feeling about having to say goodbye... although it's not easy.  

Here are a few photos from the ages.  Enjoy!  (And please don't judge 14 year old awkward Rachel too harshly ;)  

Moon at Whidbey as a kitten.

Moon's 1st birthday party.   I made my mom throw him one in our backyard. 

Home from college; Moon helping make anti-Bush signs.  

Moon in our first Seattle apartment.  Such a long beautiful feline.

Tyler had to start a job, so we decided Moon should too.

Our little family, before Violet :) 

Uh oh, Moon!

Right before going into labor.  

Moon in my painting studio.

Moon, Violet, and my mom. 

Moon loved Violet

what.i.am

LoveLoveLove this video.

Cooking