Good morning? afternoon?

I have, lately, taken more than my customary days away from Em-i-lis and have missed it. I love this space and all it offers me including, not least, connecting with you. I'm in a writing class which is a daily commitment; infinitely luxurious but daily and in addition to visits from family and much to do with school.

All parents I know feel as if we are collectively sprinting to the end of a nine-month marathon. School.is.ending.soon. So soon. Sadly soon. I have been at school pretty much every day this week for something important, a schedule that seems the norm these last weeks of the year. The boys have had marvelous experiences in kindergarten and third, and as the start of school always makes me wistfully excited, the end renders me wistfully nostalgic. 

I haven't had much time to cook lately (though those lemon dilly carrots were very good) and what I have, I've photographed pretty terribly, but that's ok too. Ol and Jack continue to create enough wonder and coolness and beauty to sustain us all in the absence of any I can muster. In art class recently, during a study of Calder, Jack made a wire Pi Guy. I love it anyway, but he and I have taken to hiding it in the other's room when no one's looking.

I found Pi Guy hanging from my fan this morning, and he's now holding on tight to a light saber on Jack's wall. Yesterday he was riding Jack's stuffed polar bear and was on my lamp shade. It's hilarious.

Ol has rediscovered a cool toy I bought the boys when in Charleston. Tom Tec T's (don't ask me about the name). Isn't his giraffe fetching?

Votes on "the pillow" have started coming in; so far it's 60-40 love-hate. Hah! So funny too!

If you're sprinting, I hope you also take some time to pause and give a little back to yourself. Doing so is never a mistake.

Pillow talk and unclear words

You guys, I recently bought a colorful pillow. Not like one color, but multiple colors in ring shapes atop a white background. It was from an online shop, and I felt sure it'd springify our living room. 

Pillows make me happy. They suggest comfort and coziness, like, maybe a nap or stint on the couch reading the paper is in my near future. 

They are also low-stress accessories- relatively inexpensive, flexible ways to change the look of a room. 

So anyway, this pillow spoke to me, and I ordered it. And when it arrived I immediately said to myself: "Oliver will love this pillow. Tom will hate this pillow, and I'm not sure about Jack." 

That afternoon, when the boys got home, Oliver said, "Ooh, I LOVE that pillow so much and wish I could have it for my room."

Jack said, "You know, I really like that pillow too." 

I said, "Awesome, guys. I think Dad is gonna hate that pillow, so let's not say anything and see when he notices and what he thinks." I knew full well Tom would not notice the pillow anytime soon, because he is male and cannot see things that are right in front of him, like leftovers in the fridge. And this pillow.

The boys desperately wanted Tom to cast eyes on the colorful square and made every effort to direct his gaze.  

It finally worked and Tom said, "That is an unbelievably ugly pillow. I don't think I could hate a pillow more." At this point, I was laughing so hard I couldn't breathe, and the kids were guffawing to beat sixty, and Oliver was going on and on about how we should just put this pillow in his room. Tom was in hysterics over just how mind-numbingly ugly he finds the pillow.

And that is the end of that. #familylifehumor

What do y'all think? Maybe it is ugly. I do not care anymore because I can't return it, and it can always go to Ol.

Last week, when Oliver was sick, he and I were playing one of his favorite games: would you rather? Ol has his own version of WYR which is that he juxtaposes a "not in a million" with a "quite possibly" with priceless deadpan.

I don't know how he first decided to ask WYR questions, but it began during spring break in 2014. We were driving around California, and from the back seat a little voice asked, "Would you raver have a house full of money, or die?"

Everyone about fell out and answered, "house full of money."

"Would you raver have a house full of money or have to jump in lava?"
"Would you raver have a house full of money or two houses full of money?"

This game persisted delightfully for quite some time and then, sadly, fell out of favor. Last week, however, Ol asked me, "Would you raver die just aftuh being born or be mordahr?"

"Murder??? What??? Oliver, what?"

"No, MORdahr!"

"Murnal?"

"Mom, no, MORDAHR!"

Because you know, he just cannot say 'r's or 'th's for the love.What the fuck is MORDAHR? I wracked my brain. He looked amused.

"Ol, I am so sorry, but can you explain this word to me?"

"Like when you can't die."

"Oh, IMmortal."

"Yeah, that's what I said."

A Different Sort of Mother's Day Wish

As tomorrow opens, many mothers will be awakened with cards and hugs, maybe even flowers or breakfast in bed. I myself am hoping for a warm latte and some sweet snuggles sometime after the ludicrously late hour of 8am. Also a bit of time alone.

There is a homemade gift from Oliver, wrapped simply and on the front table. He made it at school, and I suspect it may be a frame he decorated, with a photo of him smiling in the funny, Tweety Bird way he does when he's shy or posing.

I heard Jack and Tom speak in mysterious and hushed tones today, and my Dad casually bought a bouquet of flaming orange and happy yellow Gerber daisies while we were at the market earlier and placed them in a vase on my table once home.

I feel so grateful for those people who've made me a mom and celebrate me as such, and to them all I extend a hug of appreciative love: to my own mother and my grandmothers, but also to my aunts, sister and the other special women in my family. Those who have loved me in any sort of mom'ish way.

This year, I'd also like to issue a broader, deeper wish to all out there who are mothers in some way, who are mothered by others and who have chosen not to or cannot mother.

To me, maternal is to mother what catholic is to Catholic. It's an umbrella description that contains specific roles and identities but is more than those discrete entities.

Maternal are the older (than me) women I met while I was in college who loved and respected and watched over me despite a complete absence of familial connection between us. Donna and Julie and Marie come immediately to mind.

Maternal are the mothers of friends with whom I still correspond. The former teachers who've kept up with me, long after I left their classrooms for the last time (Abbey, Mrs. W, Mrs. R). The girlfriends without whom I simply don't know what I'd do (you know who you are, and I love you.) The writer friends I've not yet had the fortune to meet in person and also those I have (WWW, Muses). The foodie friends who know a side of me that not everyone does. The amazing cadre of people who take the time to read my blog and let me know that it means something to them.

Maternal too are those who recognize that even the happiest moms struggle sometimes and who acknowledge that as life and that it's ok. Those who simply love and show up.

Were I not mothered by all of you, I would not be nearly as happy or whole.

Today my heart goes out to all the people who have lost someone in the maternal realm: a child, a mother, both, more. My heart celebrates all those who are enormously happy but also those for whom such joy is harder to come by. I hope you are mothered today in a way that is meaningful and validating to you.

I hope that our country can start to recognize that our pitiful family leave and general maternity policies (like not making nursing and pumping easier) undermine the family ideal we exalt, and that taking away women's rights to make their own reproductive choices does the same. I hope that same sex couples soon have no barrier to adoption, surrogacy or insemination. I hope that more conversations can be had about the threads of connection that have unraveled in many of our communities, leaving more mothers feeling alone or lonely or misunderstood or self-loathing. 

I hope for all the moms and aunties and sisters and friends out there, who mother in different but important ways, that you are recognized and appreciated in some way on this Mother's Day. 

Love to all those who care for me and allow me to care for you back.