Lull

The lull in posts indicates the complete lack of lull in life. It's been nonstop the last month or so. I cannot pull a cohesive theme from these silent weeks to give an accurate account. It's just been rather random.

I think random and busy must be my happy place, though. I am grateful for that.

So I'll go with random.

Cate was in her third community theater production. She has been in the Wizard of Oz, Jesus Christ Superstar and Big, the musical. The rehearsals and peripherals of being on a community stage have reeked havoc on schedules, sleep and emotional steadiness, but she would not have it any other way. The next few shows have no children's parts and though I am looking forward to the break, I know there will be a huge gap for my little performer. We are still seeking out temporary outlets for her verve until she can get back up there again next year for Annie...

The marathon is complete for our hero Michael, but that doesn't mean his feet are up. He still running, orchestrating the most amazing dinners for us, working, playing guitar for his little groupie Addie, indulging Cate's detailed briefs of every moment of her life and picking up my considerable slack. All while demonstrating to the 3 very manic women that he lives with, that wild and opposing winds all need a common, quiet steady force at their initiation to maintain strength.

For me, I mostly keep busy as one woman pit crew for the ones I adore - 80% observation, anticipation, preparation, 20% frantic action. There are the distractions from this: advocating for ones I'm not related to, writing, consulting a bit, being a friend, sister, etc. Then we have holidays which seem to be mothers' work (yes - comment on this - the comment must evoke something from you) upon us. I did not cook for Thanksgiving, though. As a vegetarian of 25+ years - I was quite young at the start, yes, thank you - nobody wants me responsible for bird-roasting.

While I love the early winter holidays (late winter holidays being Valentine's, St. Patty's, my anniversary and birthday), each year they seem more and more daunting. Some of it may have to do with the lack of simplicity when you go more than 3 deep with those in the "helping" professions on the gift list. Cate has a school teacher and a Sunday school teacher. Easy. Addie has teacher, assistant teacher, spec ed teacher, 3 aides, PT, OT, SLP, adaptive swim teachers, respite volunteer... so many that make such a huge difference in her life. I'd like to space out Christmas so I can really do justice to each. You think I could initiate something where Christmas is broken up into 4 or 6 smaller chunks and spread out evenly over the year? But I know it's partly my fault. I have this hang up that the gift must be simple, but meaningful, be indicative of how Addie is impacted by their presence in her life. If I could just go get a dozen gift certificates for the coffee shop and call it a day, it would be much easier. I admit my problem with poignant gift-giving. I am envious of anyone who can purchase an apple shaped ornament or stuff a mug full of Hershey's Kisses and be free.

And then there is our Addie. She's tall enough to choose her own silverware from the drawer now. Never thought I'd see that day. She's been so absolutely squirmy with happiness lately. She loved Thanksgiving at my sister's house - all her favorites: people who adore her, a cat, lots of room to move around, and plenty of mirrors at her height. We also finally got a lot of extended family members in her communication device. She is addicted to her photo pages. We got their names, pictures and a few comments about each in there. Even the family pets. I'm afraid it's going to be a bit of a distraction when she gets back to school on Monday! But at least she'll get to tell everyone there about how Aunt Kathy likes to buy lots of pricey shoes.

Addie has a way, after she's done something she finds exhilarating or peaceful or fun, of swinging around to those she thinks are responsible, even hours later, to say thank you in her own way. She will just make this running dive for you, if you are lucky enough to deserve the credit, and squint her beautiful eyes so tight there's almost nothing left but two tiny crescent moons, you'll see her top teeth, which she almost never shows, and she'll grab you and hold on as though she'll fall off a cliff otherwise. She'll hold as long as she wants, sort of shaking throughout, laughing, snickering or humming. Suddenly she lets go and moves on without a look back as though it never happened. You are left with this pristine imprint that you have not so much heard as you have felt. The message is: Thank you. I LOVED it. Once you get one of these you are instantly hooked - greedy for more.

Of late, she's been doing it quite a bit.

So I hope you'll understand and forgive the present lack in posts.