bear-ly anywhere yet.

oh sweet morning.

let me tell you, there is something about waking up in a hotel that makes you really appreciate your own bed.  that lumpy, stained, tired mattress that you complain about throughout the year suddenly seems like a dream cloud when you've spent a couple of nights away from it.

just sayin'.

my kids are snuggled up in a bed together, one watching hotel tv and the other playing his itouch. they got less than 8 hours of sleep last night, thanks to a tremendous clusterfuck of chaos brought on by hotwire and the sacramento crowne plaza hotel.  when we finally settled in to our second hotel of the night (thank you la quinta inn), it was way past 11:30 and we were all so tired it was laughable.  literally.  all we could do was laugh.  but let me start at the beginning...

two days ago we started our trip and headed up to kings canyon/sequoia national park, and saw some of the most amazing trees on our planet.  we stayed in a tiny cabin with signs posted inside telling us to lock up all of our food, on account of the bears.  we did all we could to summon bears to us throughout the day we were there, but no luck, even when there were prominent "bear crossing" signs, which i now consider to be false advertising.

at one point, my jaded, cranky ten year old son said excitedly, "i just love nature!"  and he wasn't being sarcastic.  he really meant it.  he had stars in his eyes when he said it.

i'm gonna ride on that one remark for a long, long time.

we had terrible food, just terrible, terrible food; i finally cracked open a barely ripened avocado and tried to scrape bits off with a tortilla chip in desperation.  the kids even remarked about the quality of the food served within the park, which, if you know my kids, isn't really unusual.  we drove the windy, twisting roads throughout the park, took a kick-ass tour of the crystal cave there, and got stuck behind lines and lines of cars as we all waited for the nice construction lady with the stop sign to let us all pass on a one-lane road.

then, as we journeyed to the last destination in the park--seeing the general sherman tree, which is the tallest tree in the world--we got stuck behind a line of cars again, and getting out of ours we walked ahead and saw that one of the sequoias had uprooted itself and was lying across the road, blocking two lanes of traffic.  in a moment of true human folly, we all tried to move it together, then began picking pieces of the bark off, in hopes of pulling it apart to make way for all of us to get by.  after a few minutes of this, we all gave up, and my family turned our car around and made our way out of the park without the satisfaction of having seen the famous tree but knowing that mother nature made her mark on us anyway.

our plan was to get to reno last night, stay at some swank kid-friendly hotel with a cool pool and hang out a bit.  but time got away with itself, and we decided that sacramento was a better choice.  so we hotwired a hotel and made our way up there, stopping only at the fresno whole foods for some dinner.

this story is sounding really boring to relate to you.  but last night it was ridiculously exciting, in the worst way possible.

we finally arrived at the crowne plaza around 10:30.  i waited in line for 20 minutes to check in, while selkie ran around the lobby like a girl on drugs, which she was, sort of, since she'd had a soda with dinner.  the woman at the counter was by herself and frazzled but nice, and she got us all set up with a room.  we took out all of our gear, of which there is a lot, and made our way up the stairs to our room where ONE KING BED awaited us.

fuck. fuck. fuck.  (those were the exact words i uttered.)

i called the desk lady who said there were no rooms with double beds, and when i reminded her that we had just had a lovely conversation about me traveling with my two children and husband cross-country and how could she check us into a room with one bed thinking that would suffice she had no answer.  even mentioned that there were no roll-aways available.

cut to us calling la quinta inn, kids crying from exhaustion, me on the phone with hotwire getting our money back, finally arriving to the other hotel where we walk in with exhausted children to our new room which reeks of pot.  "someone was smoking in here!!" said milo.

yup.

now its today, and the kids and alex are in the pool and i'm having a few minutes to myself.  i am determined that we are going to get into idaho tonight if it kills us, as being only six hours from home seems so wrong, given all the driving we've been doing.

anyway.  this concludes this morning's update from the road.

we're still here.

backseat action, Fresno for dinner, 104 degrees, lost sunglasses, "Bunnicula" audio book for all, banana chocolate chip bread sustenance. vacation on.

the road.

here's one way to pack a chicken dress that can't be left behind. just wear it.

with love and gratitude to my dear Jessica Wallenfels, who ushered us out the door with grace and steadfast love.

bootiful

thursday afternoon and i come home to an empty house.  everyone else, including the dogs, are at a friend's house, and i have moments to myself.

i'm just letting that sink in a bit here.

today i woke up and put on my new/old doc martens that i just got for mother's day.  i also put a flower in my hair, because i'm determined to do that more now that i'm forty.  i'm going for a signature look here.  this could be it.

i used to own another pair of docs, but gave them away long ago.  these were the ones that i bought in london when i met my husband.  i was so proud of those shoes.  they were dark maroon, black laces, big and clunky and perfect, and they made me feel like i could take anyone, anyone, anyone down who messed with me.  i wore them with granny dresses for years.  they were gorgeous.

i saw this new pair at the pasadena flea market last weekend, and i knew that they had to be mine.  i was with my friend amber, who prefers heels, and who has been my own personal fashion guru for many years now.  however, much as she tries, she can't take away the overalls/baggy/clunkyshoe core of this girl.  and when she saw me try them on and i lit up like the july 4th sky, she said she hadn't seen me that happy in a while.

is it wrong to be in love with a pair of shoes?

i'm not denying that their power is more about how they make me feel.  i am on solid ground when i wear them.  i am straight and tall and full of insight about this world, and i really like myself.  all it took was some wrangling with the two fine gentlemen who were selling them (okay, maybe i fluttered an eyelash or two), and $15 bucks later i was in possession of self-confidence.

strange how it happens sometimes.

there is a demand inside of me right now to take care of myself.  i seem to be doing this in several ways. for starters, i'm trying out some anti-depressants for the first time in my life.  this is a big deal to me.  it was not a decision i entered into lightly but i felt like it was time.  so here i am, slightly medicated.

i'm also going to the gym, that beloved little ymca right down the road from me, and doing the circuit machines while listening to the same songs over and over.  i think "shuffle" is a crock, by the way.  i have over 900 songs on that ipod; how come i have to hear britney spears' version of "i love rock and roll" every single time, and sometimes twice?  (i didn't put it on there.  just to be clear).

i'm also writing again, trying to gently tell myself with each word i type that i have to say.

for today, it seems like i do.  and it can best be summed up by this: whatever it takes, whatever form it comes in, i am sitting here with open arms awaiting the joy i think i deserve.

so for today, i sit down on my chair and gently unlace my boots, grateful for their support, knowing that  the weight of them was a constant reminder of the pull of gravity.  it is enough for today to just know that i am awake and walking on this earth.

teeter-totter

well hello there.

jeepers, its been a long frickin' time since i've written anything in this here space.  a long time since i've been writing anything of any interest at all, save for my little "thank you" journal that sits on my bedside box/table.  i seem to have spent the last few months feeling that i have nothing worthy to say or to share, which is a cryin' shame.

i've been sucked back into facebook like someone paid me to scroll down the posts every day, and i'm not sure it makes me feel so good about myself.  i cannot seem to manage a casual relationship with that service.  facebook makes me feel like i need it, several times a day, like some sort of weird boost that claims to give you the right kind of attention.

i'm pretty sure its the wrong kind of attention.

still, i stay on it, for the occasional brilliance of my friends and the videos that make me swoon and the comedy that unintentionally unearths itself there.  maybe its worth it.  maybe not.  for now, i stay, until i find a better way to feel like someone is listening to me.

things are percolating inside of me right now.  i'm trying to figure this shit out, trying to come to grips with turning forty and feeling that i am just on the cusp of discovering something new about myself.  or at least hoping that's what is happening; otherwise this approaching feeling of doom/fear/excitement/anxiety is too much for one girl to take.

i feel like i'm finally growing up.

and i'm curious to know what that looks like for others.  for me, it is this seesaw in my head, the one that tips from one side of my personality to the other.  on one side, i have come to grips with my life as it is: i realize i'm a good mother, great teacher, decent wife, all-around okay human being.  on the other side, i try and try to find what i am missing, and there is a feeling of constant searching and longing that can't quite be quenched.  on this side i berate myself for all of the passions that have since been lost to me.  remember when i wanted to work with adolescent girls and save them from the scourge of our patriarchal society?  how about when i believed that collaborative theatre could bring new awareness of women's rights?  or later, when i did nothing but think about how my family could downsize and live simply, with every action dictated by the thought of helping to save the planet?  how could one girl have so much belief that she could change things and then simply let that part of her fade away while the rest of her life took over?

that's the question.  i look at all of these people who have done something of substance, who make a difference with their lives, and i wish i was one of them.

i know being a teacher is a less glorious actualization of that--making a difference--but still.  still.  i miss that feeling that i have something inside of me that is necessary and important to this planet.  i wish i had the other part of that--the fuel that keeps me moving forward and finding a way to make it all happen.

but who's to say that this simple-enough existence of mine isn't worthy or beautiful enough by itself?  who's to say that my crooked little heart and decidedly imperfect yet kickass body and this soul of mine that longs to connect with others, and feels things with a dive-down-deepness that i can't truly explain--who's to say all of it doesn't combine into exactly who i am meant to be?

certainly not me.  i'm not ready to give up on myself yet.

and hey, thanks for reading this again.  i've promised myself that i will write every other day now, so let me know that you're out there.  it does a girl good.

homesick fever

there's a feverish cloud surrounding my house right now.

both kids had strep this week; one went back to school today and the birthday boy is still at home with a low-grade fever. meanwhile, his father and i got nailed on the same day; fevers, chills, coughs--a first in our 20-year relationship, i think.

i haven't had a fever in many, many years. maybe not since childbirth. its an interesting world to be in--full of hot and cold at the same time, fuzzy around the edges, feeling like i just want to crawl into my bed and stay there for a long, long time.

i don't do "sick" well at all.

for some reason, i keep thinking about what this past week would've been like if we lived in massachusetts, near our families. put simply, we would've had help. there would have been people to help take care of our children, thereby taking care of us. someone else would've made us some soup, probably, instead of me trying to throw stuff in a big pot while i take breaks on the couch, covering up with a huge comforter.

did i mention its in the 80's today?

i don't let myself go to this place too often these days; this place of longing for the life i could be having back east. it's too dangerous for me, like running my finger along the edge of my just-sharpened knife. it's too easy to sink back into the comfort of my alternate universe, and i've worked really hard to stop doing that and pay attention to what is right in front of me.

still.

i do mourn for that life of mine, the one where my children see their grandparents so much they start complaining every time we say they are going for a sleepover. dear god, a sleepover.

there is nothing i would like more than to reinstitute sunday family dinners, like we used to do when my pa and grammie were alive; of course, this time there would be a lot less meat served. but still. we would be together. my children would know their cousins, know them so well that they might get in fights sometime. and they would know that february brings chill and coldness and frost and snow and bitter winds. most of the time.

it's so strange to think about how far apart most families are these days. i know that i'm certainly not the only one missing my people. i know i'm lucky, in that i get to visit a couple times a year. make no mistake, there are many families in this city of angels that have had to say goodbye and know it will be years, years, years, before they can touch each other again. i know how blessed i am, being a white girl with resources. i have not overlooked this.

but today, i wish my mom could take care of me a little bit. i wish i could go outside for a breath of fresh air to cool my burning cheeks. i wish that my family was near me, so that i could unabashedly ask them for help.

i wish i was back home, just for today.

bequeathed.

making soup in my kitchen tonight, i sang my heart out with adele and watched my little girl spin round and round and round until she couldn't stop laughing.

she took her arms and stretched them to the ceiling, trying to grab the words right out of the song, right out of my mouth.

how so much joy could collide with so much longing was astounding; cosmic in its shattering weight upon that little moment while the soup simmered.

and the ipod shuffled.

next she gathered herself in my lap while i sang her every word to "fix you", and i doused her in the lyrics and put my cheek to hers and stroked her hair as if the song transformed into some kind of kitchen lullaby.

she wore a quiet smile the whole time.

and a smirk when i said, "wait, here comes the guitar part. . ." and "are you ready for the drums? here they are . . . oh wait, not yet . . . okay, now here they are . . ."

a fragment of a second of my life, but there it is, the moment when i pass on the love of a beautiful pop song to my daughter. she cannot escape the power. she is doomed forever.

and then, when the moments had passed and the soup called to be stirred and she shimmied off my lap she asked, "why are the songs always about love?"

and i told her that most songs are about some kind of love, that its one of the most important things to sing about, and that sometimes, when you are a young person, who you love is the only thing you think about some days.

"when you were a teenager did you think about who you loved?"

and i told her all the time. all the time. all the time.