nothing sacred….

January 26, 2009 at 8:00 am (Cranky Mommy Chronicles, Mid-life Crisis, Ordinary Time, random musings)

Some days I feel that my children have no concept of the value of “stuff.” I will often rant while in a temper that they treat everything like garbage then I go straight to “I’m just going to throw all your toys away!” or “Why can’t I have ANYTHING nice?”

Today, in the light of the morning sun as I listen to them play really nicely together (and having had nothing broken yet) I’m having this little revelation.

It really ISN’T that they treat everything like garbage. It’s just that they treat everything like experiment. They touch everything. They like to take things apart. They like to push buttons. They are extremely curious.

Most kids are curious. Mine have an added element. They are also courageous. They just try things. Sure, there are lots of moments when they are afraid, don’t get me wrong….it’s just that for the most part they are WILLING to push the button and see what happens.

Someone told me once that if they were in school that they’d learn to respect other people’s things faster, they’d have this “push buttons first, ask questions later” thing rooted out of them. I think that’s true. And somehow that makes me sad. We really do have such a short amount of time to be explorers before it’s rooted out of us.

As much as I HATE when they break something I LOVE now when Henry asks to take something apart. Most of the time I say “yes.” The lesson was in the asking and if I can, I reward that.

In the big picture moments like this one when I’m able to not generalize and just lump them all together into a lump of Demolition Men I realize that my 11 year old DOES respect other people’s things and her own things as well. My 8 year old is nearly there. My 6 year old sees the flicker of this reality and my 4 year old, while still clueless about the sacredness of “stuff” is very much engaged in the struggle of it all.

I like that I can see this.

I like too that I can see their remorse, real remorse when they make a mistake around this. It is what gives me the most hope. When they break something and see that I’m not delighted about it they are crushed. I think that if they were nonchalant or rebellious in that moment it would push me over the edge but I’m encouraged that they would have this moment of regret. It means that they are able to move out of themselves for a moment to see how their actions affect another person.

The goal here, I think, is that they’ll tap that moment before they start to tinker with something and somehow that is what’s happening organically. I hope they never lose their sense of curiosity, their spirit of adventure and their courage to explore while gaining a sense of respect and sacredness. If we all survive this grand experiment I am certain it will have been worthwhile. I am, however, hiding the good china until they graduate college.

5 Comments

sequence of events…

January 23, 2009 at 11:55 am (Cranky Mommy Chronicles)

over the course of approximately 60 minutes this morning.

9:00am downloading a song for Riley whilst cleaning up the kitchen from breakfast

9:05am get called away by a mournful Chet who has just been stung by a bee (or something)

9:06am while attending to Chet, Riley interrupts to tell me that the download is finished and proceeds to ask about another song and how to burn the disc and how to do about 30 other things

9:08am finish up with Chet, looking for benedryl just in case and putting away some peanuts that seem to have come from nowhere

9:09am step on a few peanuts so I get the vacuum out

9:10am vacuuming peanuts and notice the goldfish squashed underfoot as well

9:11am asked by Dave to download the Quicken data

9:12am head to basement to download said data

9:15am interrupted downloading by Henry who informs me that there are “feathers” all over his room

9:20am head upstairs to check out this “feathers” thing

9:21am interrupted while going upstairs to attend to Chet who is still crying about the sting. Put some more “afterbite” on the sting.

9:22am asked in the midst of tears by Chet about whether I’ve seen his pocket knife to which I answer “no.”

9:23am forget about the feathers and finish vacuuming the kitchen floor because someone has decided to spill cereal all over the floor while I was downstairs

9:30am finally head upstairs after Riley tells me about the feather issue again

9:21am find that SOMEONE has decided to cut a silver dollar size hole in Miles’ down comforter

9:25am finish the initial feather vacuum and fold up the comforter to bring downstairs to sew up

9:26am interrupted by Chet who is lamenting the loss of his pocketknife…things start to click into place in my head

9:27am try to break up a fight between Chet and Miles about where the knife is located.

9:29am I head down to start to sew up the comforter before it bleeds any more feathers. I leave a trail of down on the way down.

9:31am Get my sewing kit out and ready to sew when I’m interrupted by Riley who is looking for a book.

9:35am Give up looking for the book when I realize that the boys are drifting very close to the damaged comforter

9:36am Start on the comforter again. It’s a pain in the arse to sew up a half dollar size hole in a comforter filled with real feathers. I mumble and grumble under my breathe as Chet and Miles chase each other around the room. Chet is still screaming about where Miles put his knife.

9:43am after much hole sewing I finally finish the darning and get the vacuum to get the trail of feathers.

9:45am Check Email and Twitter only to notice that once again the kitchen is wrecked.

9:50am finish putting away the stuff in the kitchen and head into the bedroom to fold up the comforter

9:55am Hear a dull thud when I shake out the comforter. Feel through til I find the thing which causes said “thud” and realize what happened to Chet’s pocketknife.

9:56am Chet runs in to my room to tell me that Miles confessed to the hiding place of his knife.

9:57am Rip open what I just sewed and pull out the *&^%&^$ knife.

9:59am Begin sewing anew to the echoing of kids fighting in the background.

Just wanted to put that down into writing so that I could fully comprehend the gravity of my work.

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the mirror

January 21, 2009 at 10:59 pm (Mid-life Crisis, Radical Thoughts, Social Commentary, poetry among friends, random musings)

mirror

the mirror surprises me
when I lean in
close and intimate
it tells me more than I expect
and less than I hope
like a long time
lover
no secrets can escape

it says that
I wear
my worry
on my brow
deep
and dormant

I bring
my sadness
in my eyes
quiet
and longing

I carry
my dignity
in my chin
steadfast
and strong

I model
my joy
in my smile
wide
with abandon

the mirror surprises me
with it’s candor
and care
and truth telling
and yet
I always go back
for more.

©2009 Angela Doll Carlson

1 Comment

crossing lines…

January 20, 2009 at 12:01 am (Uncategorized)

whatever your politics…whatever your hang ups about the man who takes office today as president of the United States…whether it’s the inaugural pricetag or the security measures…whatever you have coming in as Barack Obama takes office here is something important.

A line is crossed today. A very important line. The election of an African American man into the White House brings us to a new era. I don’t care what you have against this particular African American man…the line is still crossed. This is still an historical day in our country.

Today we have an opportunity to be a new kind of people…we have a chance to be the people we always had hoped we could be and leave behind us the wake of the people we once were. We have the chance to realize the vision held by so many, worked for by so many, died for by so many…

this is important. put aside your fear.
see at the VERY LEAST the chance we have ahead…
the line that will be crossed
and celebrate that.

2 Comments

and…

January 17, 2009 at 12:17 pm (Literary Devices, Radical Thoughts, Social Commentary, random musings)

I have this little habit of using the word “and.” Ok, yes, I know we all use the word “and.” I just happen to like to use it when most people expect a “but.”

I picked this up from my wise friend Paula. It struck me hard and stuck to me. I love it when that happens you know.

Here is an example:

I’m having lunch with a friend. She is lamenting about how hard things are with her kids right now. My response is this-
“Wow you know it sounds like things are really rough right now Joleen…AND I think you’re doing an awesome job with that whole parenting thing.”

I could easily have used “but” here…I chose not to.

“And” is inclusive. It means I’ve heard this first part. It means I’m not discounting just how hard things are. It means that there is HOPE regardless of the circumstance….not moving AGAINST the circumstance…moving WITH it.

It makes our lives a river instead of a flood.

It’s all a river…and we’re either working with it or fighting against it. The water is powerful and I know we can find our way if we put a mind to it.

Try using AND this week…see where it fits. See how it feels. See how it changes your perspective.

5 Comments

robbed…

January 9, 2009 at 10:34 pm (Mid-life Crisis, Radical Thoughts, Social Commentary, expanding your view, random musings)

I had a couple of new friends here at the house this weekend, Steve Lawson and his wife, Lobelia. They are awesome folk, incredible musicians and purveyors of all things social media related; i.e. Twitter, ReverbNation, Facebook, etc.

Steve gave an awesome workshop on the future of musicians (in particular) and the rise of social media. It was engaging and for me, eye opening.

I had a moment there when the room went dark and I had this startling realization. I was robbed. My dream of pursuing music, songwriting, performing, recording…this was taken from me. I know exactly when it happened too. It happened the moment I saw that I wasn’t going to get a record deal before I was “too old” to get a record deal. It happened when my band broke up the first time and then the second time. It happened when I had my first child…then my second and my third and my fourth. It was taken from me each and every time I saw the unlikeliness of a “record deal” in my immediate future.

And I quit trying.

I wish I could say that I quit trying to get a record deal because that would have left my art intact. That would have left me an artist without a record deal rather than leaving me an artist soul without a motivation to make art. But I didn’t just quit trying for a deal, I quit making art.

I was robbed because I believed a lie. I believed the big commercial machine that was still very much large and in charge in the late 80’s and early 90’s. The lie was that without a deal it was useless to try.

And I’m angry that I believed that. And I’m thankful that I started writing again, starting pursuing the muse again, that I met Steve and Lo and all the other working artists I’ve been lucky enough to add as friends this last few years.

It’s not too late to pursue your dream, you know. I know the machine that fuels the economy which sells the “product” of your art (whatever it may be) will try to tell you that there is a deadline and a set of forms to be filled out in triplicate and a wall of fire and burning coals for you to walk through before you can continue but they are wrong…and they are no longer large and in charge.

Make your art. The world needs beauty. Don’t forget.

4 Comments

little bird

January 4, 2009 at 5:51 pm (Ordinary Time, Radical Thoughts, random musings)
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I wrote this a few months ago and am working on the music for it now. It’s hard because I feel so limited by my guitar playing skillz but I got a plan…one day it’ll sing. I promise I’ll share it.

Little Bird (adc)

I know you are a poem with wings
with wings well hidden
from the world
I know, I see you move so soft
like a feather tossed
by the wind

Won’t be long before you grow up
Won’t be long before you’re grown
Little bird, remember
It’s not what you’ve been given
But what’s left now to give
Little bird, won’t be long before you fly.

I know you are an angel asleep
an angel asleep to the world
I know, I’ve seen you cry so soft
like a boat that’s tossed
by the sea.

Won’t be long before you grow up
Won’t be long before you’re grown
Little bird, remember
About the gift I’ve given
And the gift you’ll give
Little bird, won’t be long
before you go
Little bird, won’t be long
before you fly.

I know you are a poem with wings
With wings that are ready
To be unfurled
I know, I see you move now strong
Like a unsung song
To the world

2 Comments

the value of language…

January 2, 2009 at 5:34 pm (Uncategorized)
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