Pros and Cons time:

Pros – sense of adventure, listening to lots of books on CD in the car is fun, good to see my dad because who knows when I will see him next otherwise since he’s old and he lives in Florida full time now, the kids want to go, it’s beautiful there, I love seeing the birds and the beaches, I love going on adventures, there have I come full circle now with the adventure thing?

Cons – that’s a lot of driving, that’s a lot of gas, my car is old and am I risking its continued existence by doing such a thing? Should I call the Car Talk guys? We don’t have a great option for where to stay this time, other than the 3 of us can stay on the fold out couch in their living room. Which means we will be in the way or else have to get up early and clear up the bed every day. And at night, the damn TV will be on and on and on while Dad watching annoying cable TV and all of the damn annoying commercials, and in the early morning we’ll be in the way of the early bird Dad’s wife! And did I mention that’s a lot of driving?

This isn’t so good… the con’s paragraph is longer. But each thought inside each Pro or Con isn’t equally weighted. I think we need to assign some numbers here in order to make a quantitative decision.

Pros… Scale of 1 to 10, 1o being most important…

See Dad- 9 See Florida’s beauty- 6 Have adventures with kids- 7 It’s what the kids want- 8 Listening to books on CD is fun- 4… So that’s five items in favor of the trip, with a cumulative average of “7″ on the scale of 1 to 10 of “important”.

Cons… Scale of 1 to 10, 10 is most important

Lots of driving, 5; Lots of Gas (and thereby money), 5; Risk to Car, 2; Accomodations Minimal, 5; In step-mom’s way, 4; The fucking TV, 6; So that’s six objections… and their value on average… about 4.5 on the scale of “important” whatever that means.

So… if I can think of ONE more important reason in favor of going, I think I will have to go, just have to.

MEANWHILE… I am thinking about the niceness of growing things. I spent a lovely weekend yesterday and the day before really enjoying spring-like weather (in February! whoa, man!) I mucked out my compost bin and moved it to its previous location, and stirred up and was pleased to see LOTS of good soil/compost for spreading all around. I did a ton of raking of old leaves, which eventually will go into the compost bin with the kitchen scraps.

Now I have a pile of seeds that are talking to me… oh, not literally, do not worry I’m not actually insane.  Though the calculations above concerning Florida seem a little whackadoo, I will admit.

Because my parking spot was taken.

I blew my top. I blew my horn.  I got out of the car and yelled at the empty street. I got into the car and sat there fuming. I used choice vocabulary.  All because of a parking space, you ask?  What the hell?

It was an emotional reaction, so there’s part of me that wants to say, hey look, I can’t really explain it.  I was just mad. Really mad.  I can tell you the rationalizations that I have for expressing so much rage.

It’s fairly simple to rationalize this reaction.  You have to know something about my geographic location:  I’m live in a neighborhood in the city of Philadelphia, in which day after day, our particular streets are usually pretty empty and there’s ample parking. This is not true of many neighborhoods in my city, but it is true here. Usually, if someone is in “my spot” I just park a few feet down from there.  However, it’s February, and our street is still extremely cluttered with a foot of snow that fell several weeks ago.  There are two spots on my side street, which are clear of snow, and which are MY SPOTS because I spent several hours clearing them.  Shoveling heavy snow and ice to make it possible to park there.

The custom around these parts is not to park in people’s spots. It’s just considered bad manners.  People will put out chairs, or other obstacles to make this clear, most of the time.  I had recycling bins out to mark our spots.  It turns out that my husband hadn’t put them on the street, however, when he had gone to work, so someone had parked a big pickup truck right in the middle of my hard-earned parking places.

What particularly made me angry was the fact that a driver of such a large, rugged truck with its large, rugged wheels really should not have had much trouble parking on the un-claimed, poorly cleared, icy areas on the other side of the main street.  He or she did not need to park on my clear, dry, parking spots. Yes, spots. For this truck had not only taken up ONE space, no indeed. He or she had parked in such a way as to block BOTH of them. It made me unreasonably angry.

I had my tantrum in front of my two girls. My girls rarely see me angry.  Sure, there’s the occasional spat with my husband.  Or I get peeved about politics or other idiocy. But they hardly ever see an example of my on a full-on, furious, demon-like rampage.  I was beyond agitated. I was loud, and outrageous. I wrote a nasty note, which my seven year old read over my shoulder.  She commented that she wouldn’t say the note out loud as it evidently contained a word which she’s not supposed to know, let alone use.

Smart kid.

But now, it’s quite a few days since my tantrum, and I’m thinking it all over, trying to see what part of the human condition is illuminated by all that noise and bluster. I simply didn’t need to make such a big deal over having to park somewhere else. There was another place to park, after all, even though it was trickier, further from home and covered with a dangerous, slippery, pile of ice.  But I did, because I just felt like I had to, express that rage.

I’ve gone through a range of emotions while processing my own “bad” behavior.   I was self-righteous at first, because I am a hard worker and I shouldn’t have had to work for some jerk to take away my hard-earned prize. I was embarrassed, after a bit, because of making such a fuss.  But now I’ve come to the new rationalization, that I did myself some good that evening.  I let myself and my kids know that when I feel, really feel mad, that I can express that emotion.

I can let it out, and then let it go. Let it out, people.  And then let it go.  That’s is the moral of this blog post.

The truth is, we had severe weather. I think that is preferable in some ways to the usual blah and super cold, or the usual wet rainy miserable bitter cold which can happen. I think it is weird how we all seem able to connect and talk about weather. The outside world matters to me, even on days when I stay in my pajamas all day. Like today. I am still clad in blue flannel PJs, with white snowflakes on them. 

My work of course involves being outside with kids. Rainy cold weather is no fun, and we’re all cooped up and miserable. Unfortunately, I hear the forecast for Monday and Tuesday involves much rainy dreariness. I am not thrilled with that, but have you ever thought how lucky you are to know what is coming? I mean really, we had over two feet of snow and I knew it was coming. I bought a lot of groceries.

Which also makes me feel lucky and grateful. We had enough money for groceries. And we had heat. And still are doing fine. 

My kids and their peers at school did a fundraiser for Haiti and gathered more than one thousand dollars to be sent to Haiti in the form of aid for the earthquake survivors. I am so proud of the kids for making a difference. 

So we have one more week of February. Why is February the shortest month of the year? So we can survive it, of course, or so I’ve always figured. March can come blow down the door and spill our soup upon the floor. We’ll lap it up and roar for more. 

Random selection of pictures and one valentine.

That sentence is not a healthy one — hang on a minute while I take it out back and shoot it to put it out of its misery.

There.

Starting again now.

I have had the chance to spend some nice long chunks of time with each of my girls. Carla and I went shopping together, and doing other errands in a leisurely way on Sunday. Then on Monday, Carla was at camp, so Annie and I got to cuddle and watch a movie together. By evening, Annie and I were on our way to New York to visit my mom, and in preparation for going to the funeral this morning. On the drive up to NY, Annie suddenly said pensively, “I hate what we’re doing right now.”

Alarmed, I replied, “What, just sitting in the car waiting for the time to pass so we can get to Nonna’s house?” I figured she was probably just getting bored stiff.

“No, not that,” she answered. “I just hate that our car is polluting as we go.”

I’m back home now. I missed my big girl (Carla) but I really did enjoy getting some time just with Annie. Annie is so ridiculously chatty and sunny, her personality is shiny and bright as a new copper penny. She bursts with song, stories, and creativity. It can be a little daunting, I guess, for the uninitiated.

But luckily I am her Mommy. So I’m prepared to appreciate her endless prattle (oops, I mean, fabulous gift of the gab), as well as her harmonica playing (don’t knock it till you’ve heard it!), and she is quite the singer / songwriter. Said Annie, “Ok, Mom, I’m going to play you some harmonica songs now, and you’re going to have to listen, cause you’re my Mommy!” Can you say CAPTIVE AUDIENCE?

It was really fun actually, riding home from NY today in the car, with her in the backseat. We hit some rather heavy rain, and she decided that was because of Mother Nature crying her heart out over global warming, harmful pollution, and the passing of my Aunt Aileen.

She decided that the only way to calm Mother Nature’s nerves was to sing to her. So we sang. And we sang, and we sang some more. Singing in the Rain, Raindrops keep Fallin’ On my Head, Robin in the Rain, Yellow Submarine, Red Red Robin, Bushel and a Peck, Michael Row Your Boat Ashore, Her Majesty, Clementine, You are My Sunshine…. and more. I was so pleased to be able to remember the words, or most of them!

I actually really love singing in the car. (When Carla is in the car with me, she tells me to be quiet, that I give her a headache. Annie, by contrast, eggs me on, and sings along when she knows the words.)

Anyway, when we finally had passed through the cloud burst and out the other side, Mother Nature rewarded us mightily with a beautiful rainbow. The huge wonderful kind that any happy child colors over and over and over again in their notebooks. We sang our hearts out even more after that. It was really stunning. I kept having to make myself focus on the driving. So we sang even more. Rainbow Connection, Somewhere over the Rainbow, and LOTS of renditions of You Are My Sunshine.

Annie is really sensitive, in a lot of ways, but she’s also a pretty happy kid. Carla is more of a mystery to me, and keeps a lot of her thoughts to herself. When the three of us are together, the two of them interact MUCH more with each other than with me directly. I butt in to their little arguments when they get out of hand, or get on my nerves a bit much.

And so, it’s very nice to have had these individual times with each of them. I look forward to figuring out more ways to work individual attention time into our schedules. I feel much closer to each child, as a result of the time we spent together. This should not come as a surprise to me, but yet it does. It is really eye-opening to think that these children, as vital to me as they are, haven’t gotten much special Mom Time all year long, even though they are with me for hours. The poor dears have to share me, not only with each other, but also with a dozen or more of their peers.

I really must think about ways to make this better for them next year. Sigh.

It’s EARTH HOUR in the Pann household, and around the world.

Find out more here: http://www.google.com/intl/en/earthhour/2009/

We’ve spent over $1000 on this old car so far this year– but that’s a lot less than buying a new car. Carla and Annie think we should get a hybrid. They would rather walk than pollute, but it would be even better if we could drive without polluting when we have to. I think it’s great that they have such a good grasp on this: their generation is the one that is going to be most affected by the planet’s status.

Sometimes I just feel guilty, though. I think that this may be the default setting for motherhood. Better to cheerfully grin and bear it, than be hangdog. Guilty? Yup, I sure am! I’m your mom after all! Tell it to your therapist, baby!

I remember sitting in the hospital just hours before going home, when Carla was a wee little babe on my lap. She was tiny and perfect (to my eyes) and I could see that I had my hands full. I started to think… and cry. “I’m sorry that you’ll have to go through middle school someday, baby!” I murmured to her tiny self.

Looking back, I know that was at least partially those wonderful post-partum hormones kicking in, but something larger is at play when you think of your children as they grow. After all, adoptive moms go through just as much worry and stress and guilt as any other mom. It’s the thought that your child will go through some kind of adversity, and the knowledge that though you are protecting your child as much as you can, you still will see the day when SOMETHING goes amiss.

This underarm odor thing is really normal, and I shouldn’t get worked up over it. But like any little thing, it sure is easy to be alarmed. It’s like a Check Engine light. I can tell something is up, but I don’t really know what to do. I don’t want to make a big deal about a little odor — and I don’t want her to feel like her natural body is icky. But on the other hand, I would hate for her to be teased or just uncomfortable with herself.

When she and I talked about the body odor thing, I brought it up as follows:

“I’d like for you to get a bath tonight. Or, maybe, 8 and a half is a good age to start taking short showers in the morning. That way, you’re nice and fresh for school.”

C: “NO SHOWERS! I HATE SHOWERS. They’re like standing in boiling water rain! NO!”

“OK, bath tonight, then, that’s fine. I noticed that your body is starting to grow and change some, and it’s normal for kids your age to have more body odor, so a bath will help.”

C: “Maybe I should start wearing deodorant.”

Since she’s the one who brought it up, I think I should maybe follow her lead. I will want to research this and find something in the natural products range. Just deodorant, and not antiperspirant.

If only getting my car to work right were as easy. Or solving the global climate crisis, for that matter.

Unfortunately, on the way home the Check Engine light came on. Great!

It’s not, you know, toasty in here, but it’s MUCH more tolerable. 57 degrees? Ugh, too cold! 60 seems so warm by comparison.

So those of you who live here — be warned, it’s still PUT ON A SWEATER time. And NO leaving open the door to the front porch!

I don’t know if you’ll ever get to read this letter, but after watching your interview with Katie Couric (on YouTube), I felt compelled to write you a letter.

I was really touched and inspired by your open, honest interview. The way you engaged with Couric showed me a strength and determination that I don’t see often in public figures. Your passion and caring for your children comes through everything you do. I identify with you as a mother, and as an American.

Thank you for being willing to share your husband with America. I really appreciate your support of him.

As a wife, I know how much work it is to have a husband with a busy professional life. There are times when I feel the absence of my husband so strongly. It takes a very strong marriage and a lot of help and support to weather even a very busy week. When I consider the sacrifice you are making to help Barack make it to the Oval Office, my respect for you just grows exponentially.

I am just writing to say THANK YOU– for sharing your husband, for being an amazing role model to your daughters, and daughters everywhere, and for having the vision and strength that our next First Lady needs.

I salute you. I support you. I can’t wait to see your family move into the White House!

YES WE CAN!

Your fellow American,

Me

It has been slow around here, with the blog, hasn’t it? I hope I haven’t lost too many readers. (Not likely, since I think I’ve got few enough to start with anyway!) I am going to try to blog more frequently, and with brief posts that capture some of what I am going through.

In the spirit of JUST WRITE SOMETHING, I am also planning to participate in NANOWRIMO. Know what that is? It’s the National Novel Writing Month, which is November. I will attempt to write a novel of 50,000 words or more in November. Yeah, that’s a lot of words.

I also want to try to go to the pool twice a week, and swim for 45 minutes.

Which one of these goals is more likely to be acheived, I wonder? Perhaps both??

What is bringing about these ambitions? I don’t honestly know, but I think they are partially attributable to my desire to NOT have this be another autumn in which I get depressed. I also am motivated by my recent weight gains to DO SOMETHING.

I happen to be of the opinion that blogging about weight loss is very, very boring. I could lose 45 pounds, but I still would think that the most interesting parts of what my life is about are entirely unrelated. How I look in a tight fitting dress is really irrelevant. I like being funny, thinking up creative projects, having fun with kids, and eating yummy foods. So who the heck cares what I weigh, and if I lose any weight or gain a few pounds?

Folks, the truth is that it comes down to my health. I am looking around on my family tree and I wince at what I see. My dad, along with his three sisters, are all diabetic, and overweight. They may all have heart problems, too, and at least one of them has had cancer. I am the youngest of the group of first cousins to which I belong. Many, many of them are very overweight. So when I noticed my belly kind of sticking out above my jeans, I was kind of alarmed.

Hello belly? Where’d you come from? Genetically speaking, I don’t have too much of a chance of avoiding getting fat. But I don’t have to take that lying down. I will take that doing laps in the pool instead.

I bought myself a bracelet today, a cute little beaded thing on elastic, which I could have easily made myself. It wasn’t expensive. But I bought it because I decided that wearing something on my wrist would be my visual reminder not to gorge myself on things that will add to The Belly. It will remind me to schedule pool visits into my weeks. It will remind me, in November, to write, write, write.

Meanwhile I’ve been utterly obsessed with the election. If you just asked yourself “What election?” then I would like to know what rock you are living under. Those who’ve been reading this blog for much time at all will know I’m a Swing State Liberal Voter. I keep checking the polls and seeing blue. I am happy about this.

Today I even listened to some conservative talk radio. I was DELIGHTED by what I heard. They were attacking Barack for association with Ayers, a so-called terrorist. Hah! The McCain campaign has NOTHING to stand on, and all they can come up with is lies and distortion. I love that. Then this silly conservative talk show put on some mock campaign commercials in which they hightlighted the issue that Obama is pro-choice. Yup, he sure is. And so is the majority of the citizens of this country, who believe in a woman’s right to access to reproductive healthcare of all kinds. Obama WISELY leaves the decision about when a human life begins to the realm of religious leaders.

Finally, this financial crisis is pretty scary. I hate to admit it, but I don’t really get it. I mean, what I get is that greedy investors overdid it, and made some stupid moves, and now we’ve got an economy that’s really zarked. That much I’ve absorbed. I’ve listened to NPR. I’ve listened to This American Life, and Marketplace. And smart people who get this stuff have talked to me about it. Why doesn’t it stick in my head? I know enough to be scared. My mind keeps coming back to the idea that the day could come when I need to grab my family and head off to live in the country, growing my own food and clobbering Bambi in order to survive. Could I do that? I honestly do not know.

So that’s where I am this lovely October day. With some dirt under my nails from having put some Shooting Stars bulbs in the ground, a plan to write a novel in 30 days, and the hope that I can get my body back under my control, I am smiling at the on-coming season and hoping it treats me well. I think it will, if I will treat myself well. And if the world’s economy utterly fails after Nov. 4, at least I’ll have a novel-in-progress to distract me.

If you have no idea what a CSA is, here’s a description of the program that I’ve joined this year.  In a nutshell, it’s a pay-in-advance program that gives the farmers much-needed funds early on when they are planting, and in return for this, you get a monthly or semi-monthly allotment of fresh veggies (and fruits).  My CSA also offers fresh dairy and eggs to order.

Because we want to support local agriculture, and because we like to eat fresh, healthy, organic food, joining a CSA seemed like a good match for us.  I don’t yet know how this will affect my weekly cycle of food shopping, nor how it will affect our family’s menu.

I do know that in spite of my life under a rock (cozy down here!) I have heard tell of a number of food shortages across the globe.  A quick search on good using the terms “food shortage” will open your eyes quickly to the fact that shortages have been on the radar and the seem to be likely to continue. One story I heard concerned a plague of rats that attacked mass quantities of grain in India — other stories involve the US growing corn for ethanol instead of growing food. Climate change related weather problems have caused a shortage: and prices are soaring. Food pantries are at a thirty-year low.

And waiting for me at a designated pickup on May 5th will be my family’s first box of fresh produce that we’ve already paid for. I wasn’t expecting our CSA participation to have any effect on my personally, other than a good feeling to be helping local farmers– and a nice assortment of fresh produce on our table. In addition, though, I feel like we’ve managed to do something smart to help our own family through what could be a summer of highly expensive fruits and veggies.

In the height of summer harvest, I am planning (for the first time in my life) to start canning things. I have never done it before, but now seems like a good time to do it.  I have friends who’ve done this before who have said they’ll be delighted to help me do it.  With a food shortage on the horizon, it seems really smart to get local food, and save it. Doing it now when we want to, will be a big help for someday — when we may have to.