Caution: More Poetry

So, the eighteenth (18th) month of winter has nearly ended and I have somewhat vague hopes that after 20 or so more weeks, spring might actually arrive. I have been enduring the bitter cold, icy road conditions and inhumane lack of sunlight by gorging myself on comedy television programs, spending time with my small children and complaining (not necessarily in that order). Oh, yes, and writing. I have been working on the book. The beginning: done. The end: done. I am one chapter in the middle away from completion and hope to close the book (ha ha) on the first draft by Sunday or Monday (depending on how much sleep I need).

I rediscovered Mystery Science Theater 3000 on video/DVD. What an out-there, hilarious show. Love it. Yes, I was geek enough to watch it on Comedy Central many years ago and geek enough to be excited when it moved over to Sci Fi. It is family-friendly fare; Jude digs the cool robots and Sully is a great listener to my Joel/Mike debate. I may as well just change Barefoot Adult to Geeky Barefoot Adult and be done with it.

And now, without further ado, the week's poetry:

Bad Day

It is Tuesday
and the trash bin
under my desk
at work
(just emptied Saturday)
is already
more than half full


Untitled poem for Jude:

Discussing school and
the future,
I discovered
your intended vocation
of becoming a pirate
I don't know
what kind of degree that requires
but we can research together
until then, though
lots of fresh juice
and Flintstone vitamins
to ward off scurvy

And, finally, a haiku not for Jude, but by Jude. It was presented to me as a stream-of-consciousness sentence. I love the way his mind works. And, for you purists, it is not strict syllable-count haiku, but he is 3.

I'm farting in your car.
Mom, I like the pink sky.
I love you Mommy.

And that is just some beautiful poetry.

Song of the Day: "Falling Slowly" (I think that's the title) from the movie Once. Beautiful song, beautiful movie and even those stuffy Academy Award people liked it.

Stuff I Wrote

Long time, no blog, but things have been busy in Kimberlyland, what with the new job and all. It is going really well and it feels like a very grown-up job, but it leaves me little time for my other passions.

In college,
I would do it every day
and still
each time felt fresh
I had focus and energy
and could do it for hours
though sometimes, if interrupted
I had trouble
starting again

but now I'm older
and otherwise occupied
less inclined
less able,
certain that
most of the necessary muscles
have atrophied

but occasionally
the mood strikes
and I am able
to squeeze in time
and write poetry


So I managed to get some time to write this week, but all of my spare writing time goes toward that novel I am almost finished with. I still want to have a whole draft done by the end of next week and I am actually excited because that is really a possibility. I also wrote a couple of poems for my wee ones:

For Jude:

It is impossible
not to fall in love with
someone who shows
equal enthusiasm
for sunsets
and monster trucks


and for Sully:

I don't read parenting manuels
for babies
don't want to delve too deeply
into chemistry
or biology
I don't want my illusions
crushed by knowledge

I prefer to think
that the random smiles on your face
while you sleep
mean pleasant dreams
and happy memories


So, that is the extent of the writing I have done lately. I hope that in my next blog or two I will be able to say that my first draft of the novel is done.

Anticipation

All week I have had the weird, tingly sort of feeling that comes with anticipation. Could it be because of my new job? Well, I had really been looking forward to the job, so the anticipation early in the week certainly had to do with my new work environment. Now that I have a week under my belt, I can comment: I really like the new place. It is a small office: there are three other women and three men and everyone has been really nice. Also, it is quite busy -- something I am not quite used to, but I like the challenge. Already I have discovered the joy of having a salaried position -- my first -- and I have fallen back in love with direct deposit (something not available at my last jon). So, all in all, it has been good.

But the anticipation goes deeper than that. Could it be the arrival of Arsenic and Old Lace from Netflix? Finally, movies that I put on my queue well over a year ago are being mailed to my house. I absolutely adore Cary Grant and watched Arsenic first thing this morning. It is good -- quite funny -- though not quite as good as The Philadelphia Story or His Girl Friday. My personal favorites, though, are The Awful Truth and An Affair to Remember. Still, I would recommend it.

After seeing the movie, I realized that I still felt anticipation. Could it be for spring? Jude has unfolded his tent in the living room, eager to be able to take the tent outside and sleep in it with Daddy. I share his enthusiasm; winter cannot end soon enough. This should prove to be a big summer for Jude. He turns four, the minimum age for soccer and we plan to enroll him. Also, we have started looking at preschools part-time for next fall. Summer means swimming and a trip to the zoo and more trips to visit grandparents. So, there is that anticipation deep inside, excited for the seasons to come.

But, mostly my anticipation today is for Sullivan. Today is a big day in his life. Today, he starts rice cereal. So, all morning, I have been watching him for signs of hunger (they aren't too subtle, actually. He wails as though his heart is broken until food is brought to his face). Sully has two primary moods: happy, contented, smiling mood and why-aren't-you-feeding-me-right-now-before-I-starve mood. He has been in mood one for most of the morning, which I love to watch. Then, about fifteen minutes ago, he started fussing a bit so I headed to the kitchen, excited, and mixed up a perfect potion of cereal and formula. I set up his tiny little bear bouncy seat and went to get him. By the time I got to him, though, he was sound asleep on the couch. So, cereal will have to wait. I am so excited, though, to see his reaction. There is nothing more amazing than watching your child experience something for the first time. There will be plenty of firsts for Jude and even more firsts for Sullivan.

And even though I may cry just a little at each new hurdle my little guys jump over, there are pools of happiness behind those tears. And enjoyment of the present. And sweet, sweet anticipation of their futures.

I Am Really Sick and Tired of This

This hasn't been the most stellar of weeks, but at least it is over! Tuesday evening I awoke at 11:00, unable to fall back asleep, freezing. I was concerned that the furnace wasn't working. I hopped out of bed and turned the heat up another two degrees, noting that everyone else in the house was still asleep. I threw on two layers of clothes and added another blanket, but still could not get warm. So, at midnight I got up and took a hot bath (hot bath -- bad for the skin but such a wonderful indulgence nearly impossible with two small children). I shivered in the tub, though I could hear the furnace working. After the bath, I climbed back into bed.

Then, at 1:30 or so, the power went out. Earlier in the day it had been 49 degrees (Fahrenheit) and the temperature fell overnight to 1 degree below zero, so the house began getting chilly awfully fast. We packed up the boys and drove in the middle of the night to Jeff's mom's house. They didn't even seem to mind us showing up at 2:00 in the morning, looking for a place to sleep. Through this whole ordeal, Sully slept. He was comfy in his car seat, bundled in a big coat so we unzipped it and let him sleep in the car seat. Jude, on the other hand, had been nursing a nasty little cough, but once he woke up, he didn't want to go back to sleep. It was an adventure, being out in the middle of the night. The snow was falling, the wind was gusting and there were no other cars on the road. Jude slept in the spare bedroom, while Jeff and I got the couches. I still could not get warm.

We left at 6:00 a.m. so Jeff could go home and get ready for work. I had already taken the day off, planning to take care of several errands before starting my new job on Monday. Instead, I crashed on the couch, sleeping most of the day. I watched several episodes of Tales From the Crypt Season 7 (the last and worst season). That was my whole day. A big waste.

Thursday, I still felt lousy, but came into work to train my replacement. In the afternoon, our daycare provider called and said that Jude was complaining of chest pain when he coughed so I called Jeff to let him know I would come get Jude. Since Jeff was already near the daycare, he picked up Jude instead and took him to the doctor who, thankfully, got him in that afternoon.

So, Jude has walking pneumonia. Poor kid. The medicine is wonderful though, since it actually allowed him to sleep and he was at full-Jude strength this morning. I am so thankful it wasn't something more serious. Yes, it is serious enough, but three days of medicine should completely knock it out.

Today is Friday and I am nearing the end of this job. A new adventure begins on Monday. Over the weekend, we will be resting and relaxing and I hope we are all well by Monday.

An aside about Tales From the Crypt: It is a show I enjoy -- mostly. Several of the episodes are very clever and well written and I am such a sucker for clever. By season 7, however, I think they just plain ran out of ideas. Definitely a sub-par season. One of the fun things about watching the episodes, though, is seeing the different actors. Since season 7 was filmed in England, there are scores of Brits and Scots: Daniel Craig, Imelda Staunton, Ewan Macgregor and even little Anna Friel, who now plays Chuck on Pushing Daisies. The upside: lots of great British accents. The downside: Ewan Macgregor plays an American. I guess I will have to go back to Trainspotting to catch that accent.

Song of the day: "Handbags and Gladrags," that nifty little ditty that plays over the end credits of the British version of The Office.