I still haven’t been able to look at our photos from Spain or even process them in order to look at them or make a book, or upload them. Or any of it. I’ve had a hard time explaining this to people or even understanding it for myself because, duh, Spain! But it felt like a dream. The night before we left for Spain my aunt and uncle from Washington were in town and we hosted them for dinner. My Aunt asked me about Spain, I gave her the answer I was giving the people closest to me: I was a little scared.
Absolutely excited, elated, over the moon. And terrified.
She asked me why. I told her because I never knew I was allowed to be this happy. Not “my husband surprised me with an amazing, once in a lifetime gift Happy” more of an actual happiness. Contentment. A stillness in the wind but you can still hear the music of nature and you stop the car, get out and look around in awe happy. I had no idea I could have some of that too. That it was for me. That, essentially, it’s for everyone. I had no idea.
It took me by surprise. A little fox in the night.
But the haze of the dream is lifting and I’ll be able to share more about it soon. Once we got home, there was no grace for adjusting back to wakefulness. We went straight into Parenting and Owning a Business and Work and Life and Meal Planning.
It was rude.
Work on my dream Studio started, I haven’t stepped off cloud nine yet.
It currently sits like this:
We took the roof off and framed in for a window border around the entire building. Then it started raining. It hasn’t really stopped. I keep seeing myself in the finished studio writing or painting or sitting with a friend/colleague and doing the work of life, and being joyful.
Jessica’s gluten allergy has reared it’s head again and we’re a good 5 days into the transition for her to be completely off gluten successfully. We’ve been at it for more than a week but it’s been completely gluten free for a good five days and we’re seeing so much progress at home already.
I might be doing a few posts on gluten free baking/cooking and what it’s like to cater to an allergy in a house where the rest of us don’t have it. The best part is she’s advocating for herself, she can tell a difference which means we’re on the right track.
There’s been many (MANY!) failures in the kitchen so far and almost everything is being compared to what her pallet remembers of the wheat version of her favorites, but we’re getting there. I’ve had a couple successes and I happy-dance the shit out of those. In the middle of the kitchen. While she looks at me like a crazy person.
She’s emotionally allergic to baked potatoes and mayonnaise but will eat both when pigs fly. Guess what’s gluten free? Both baked potatoes and mayonnaise. Not that I need a reason to serve her condiments but we take everything we can get right now. The other night we had potatoes and meatballs for dinner (both GF) and she offered to pray before dinner. (She never does that.)
She prayed that Oliver would stop crying (he had a hard day of being adorable and exhausted from all the cuteness) and that she wouldn’t throw up from the baked potato.
What I heard was “I’m concerned about my brother and I see what’s on my plate and I agree to eat some.”
She totally ate some. AND LIKED IT.
Potatoes are a new food group, we’re going to live.
Oliver had his first birthday party invite last weekend. He had a big day, actually. Barber Shop hair cut, Kindergarten Halloween Birthday Ball, learning to read. We had conferences for both kids last week as well. Of course they’re doing great (3rd grade and Kindergarten, respectively) but we have areas to grow and work on, too.
Like keeping up on all that paper that comes home.
I was telling a friend that I feel like every parent walks into conferences feeling like they’re doing everything wrong. That somehow the Teacher has the upper hand in the exchange because they’re reporting to us on our child’s progress outside of our home. They made it this far (our kids) so we’ve had to take some credit for that, and now? Now, let’s talk about how to keep them moving forward. Sign here, here, here, aaaand here.
I feel a little childish sitting in seats 3 sizes too small and looking at standardized test scores that look like soduku puzzles.
My kids aren’t going to the same school I went to. (Actually, they literally are.) But … I mean, education wise. It’s just different. I’m learning 3rd grade all over again too, only this time around I know what carries through. (Hint: not everything.) And yet I can’t remember if I want them to get “3’s” or “A’s” or “100%’s” or be somewhere on the upper curve? Or is there a curve?
It’s just all very weird, basically. Finally feeling like a legitimate adult and being completely dumbfounded that my son only knows his alphabet by zoo phonic noises. An A is not an A to Oliver unless you start with Allie Alligator.
I have to google new names to the letters of the alphabet in order to teach him how to read.
I was hoping the ABC song would live a little longer.
But we’re healthy! And their teachers are both amazing. I love love love that I feel like they’re invested in my children with me.
Apparently I have a lot to say. I’ll stop here and be back soon for more catch up.
Safe tricks with your treats, friends!