What a difference a year makes

Last night Cora wanted to watch a Santa movie, and we settled on Christmas Eve on Sesame Street, a movie which does not technically feature Santa, but certainly has quite a bit to do with the jolly old elf. I remember watching this with her last year a couple times, too. But things were different this year.

We watched the movie (I'm sorry) during dinner and when we do that, I am usually actually sitting with my back to the TV, unless I twist around. But there was no twisting for me last night, because the real show was playing across her face. This time around, she laughed hysterically at Cookie Monster trying and trying to get a message to Santa, but eating each implement of communication he attempts. (Granted, she wasn't sure what kind of computer he was using, but luckily I was there to explain what a typewriter is. Or was.) And she worried when Ernie and Bert sold their favorite things to buy each other gifts. And watching the relief and smile that bloomed on her face when Mr Hooper shows up to return their favorite things...well, I admit that the full effect may have been lost on me because that part makes me cry EVERY FREAKING TIME. I still miss Mr Hooper!

And, thanks to dear Mr Hooper, I had an introduction to talking to her about other winter celebrations and Hannukah in particular. Then at the library today I found a nice picture book that talks about celebrating the nights of Hannukah and has really great artwork. We read that tonight and afterwards she said, "Mama, I'm not sure that I know how to say Hannukah!" Then realized she had said it, and grinned at her own accomplishment.

I really like the winter holiday season. I wish I could believe I will have time for all the things I love and want to do this year, but I know I won't. I don't think there will be much baking. Alas. Our decorating will be both rather piecemeal and late, given our split household. But, still. Evergreens! Candles! Music! Dickens! Burrowing in for a long weekend!

Forget sleep. I am counting on holiday spirit to be the balm my soul needs.

Still alive

Sometimes I have something to write about. And then I think, "I could just call my mom and talk to her about it." And then that is what I usually end up doing.

Or I think, "Maybe I should hold that thought until I can get the photos downloaded from the camera." Which inevitably leads to the realization that the camera needs new batteries and/or that I don't have time to go upstairs and wrestle with the camera.

Or I think, "Maybe I should keep that to myself."

At the same time, I'm not ready to close up shop here. Just suffering from a paucity of time, material, and motivation. Luckily, the semester is wrapping up in the next couple of weeks. It has been a hard one, as one class developed a really unpleasant collective personality (and the work habits to match), and so teaching has not been the energizing experience it usually is and has instead been a serious drag on my resources. I'm hoping for better this spring. I haven't had the time for making things as a way to recharge, and ditto for cooking. Ditto for most reading. If the semester weren't coming to a close, and we weren't so close to having Chris home for a good long stretch, I would really be worried. As it is, I am riding it out as best I can.

Which is all a very long way of saying...maybe there will be photos in a week or two!

Struggling with vocabulary

I don't know what to call what we are doing. What is it when you're still married, but one of you lives and works elsewhere, and not in the military?

What term do I Google when I am wondering if we are doing this right, with the least damage to our lives, our marriage, and our daughter?

How do I find the blogs by other solo-mommies in the same spot? (Or, good lord, are we the only ones doing this? Surely not.)

I consider myself a pretty skilled and creative searcher and I'm not coming up with anything. I'm used to being able to reach out through the keyboard and find some semblance of advice, community, and knowledge, whether it is about bring pregnant, dealing with knitting problems, figuring out what to do with a bunch of fresh hon tsai tai in the CSA box, potty-training a toddler, surveying what grade percentage other professors assign to participation in freshmen English classes, or researching cities we might have ended up living in.

So it is a new and frustrating thing to be stumped. Another new and frustrating thing.

Oh, 2009, you funny funny year

Our first measurable snowfall came this year on October 12th - the earliest in my (gulp) 17 years in MN. Luckily, the snow had one fan. Cora was very anxious to get outside and play in it before it melted (a light dusting the previous Saturday had vanished by the time she got dressed). She dug out the snowball maker she found on the porch about three months ago and we headed out onto the deck. I think it was only about 45 seconds until she began throwing the snowballs at my legs.

An obscenely early snowfall is easier to take when you have a delighted and enthusiastic girl by your side.

The sound of a pot boiling over; or, in pursuit of my soul

There's something I know about myself that I am really good at forgetting, which is that I need to spend a certain amount of time on things that are my own. Things like reading and sewing and cooking and baking and making. Things NOT like working and grading and cleaning and worrying and cleaning up the bodily fluids of various beings that live in my house.

But, like I said, I am really good at forgetting this and just working and grading and etc. And I get that pinched feeling. Then I get that pinched, bitter feeling. Then I get that pinched, bitter, panicked feeling. And then I let all the working, grading, cleaning, etc. stuff go to hell because I am starving and need to fill up on my things.

At least, I used to do that. It isn't really an option anymore, now that I have a small daughter and two jobs and am the only adult in the house to do the cooking, cleaning, organizing, shopping, and oh my lord did I mention the bodily fluids? I'm thinking of renaming the cats Piss and Vomit. I'm hoping that said daughter finds the emotional equilibrium to once more full embrace the using of the toilet. Soon.

So, I can only let go of so much for so long. I'm hoping to be able to make do with sewing a Halloween costume. I have finally admitted to myself that all the things I thought I would make for the holidays...not going to happen. Holiday baking? Not going to happen (feel free to send us cookies). Well, I have admitted it, but I don't think I have quite accepted it yet - as soon as I typed that last sentence I thought to myself, biscotti doesn't really take that long...

The little girl isn't the only incorrigible one in the house.

Mean girls? Already?

This is the new game Cora has wanted to play lately: I have to be one of her classmates (let's call her Ann) and she is herself. Then she wants me to call her stupid, and then say her mommy is stupid.

Really?

Now Ann was also linked to Cora's introduction to the word stupid and the world of namecalling, so while a 3 year old's report on what happened a school is sometimes worth regarding with skepticism (you had pizza for lunch every day this week? really?), when something keeps coming up in the same way, there must be something to it.

And I can tell that Cora is mulling all this over. Sometimes she will ask me, "Momma, are you stupid...or not?" And her tone is genuinely quizzical. We've talked about what "stupid" means and when it is okay to say it and when it isn't and what we should say to people who call us stupid. And I'm not completely living in my rosy-colored world; I know kids call kids names and that I neither can nor should protect my girl from everything. Still. I had hoped we would make it a little longer before we had to talk about why some people are mean to other people.

Princess small talk

This evening Cora convinced me to play princesses with her. This involved scrubbing the porch floor with damp paper towels, while she was Cinderella and I was Sleeping Beauty.

Cora/Cinderella: Sleeping Beauty, I'm glad you came over to my house today.
Me/Sleeping Beauty: Well, it's always nice to scrub someone else's floor for a change.
Cora/Cinderella: I have a fairy godmother.
Me/Sleeping Beauty: Really?
Cora/Cinderella: Yes. How many fairy godmothers do you have?
Me/Sleeping Beauty: Oh, I have three.
Cora/Cinderella: Well, what are their names?

And so on.