Helpless

We just found out that our friend has cancer and all we want to do is help, but we're not really sure how. So we're just sending out our most positive thoughts into the universe.

Passions

The past two years have been very intense with schools and stuff (and unfortunately there's no chance of it letting up for the rest of the calendar year) and although I've been lucky enough to get into a slight yoga routine, I'm still feeling like I haven't had enough time for ME.

But here's the problem. I'm still suffering from Stockholm Syndrome. Because when I start thinking about what I want to do with the ME time when I get it, I don't really know.

Yoga, that's a given.

Write the book I always wanted to? That's maybe too hard. Although I'm happy to say that after four years I'm up to ELEVEN pages.

Make more jewelry or knit Mia another poncho? Nice, but doesn't feel like much of an achievement.

Volunteer work? Nice, but my last effort, although successful, has completely burned me out.

Cooking? I'll admit that other than yoga and wine it is one of the only things that is keeping me going. But my aspirations aren't really much higher than adding some variety to our life. I'm not really motivated to learn a souffle or fancy sauce. (Although my scrambled eggs did benefit hugely from a quick perusal of Julia Child.)

One of my friends is learning Spanish. Which sounds nice, and I could practice with our babysitters or Miles when he gets to school. It would be even more fun to learn a language I could practice in a destination that I really want to visit. But that would be France or Italy, and none of our babysitters speak those languages.

Several months ago I read an article in the New York Times about a new moth that is preparing to attack California agriculture. It was found for the first time in the state by a retired eptymologist (?) or moth expert, who had a net set up in his backyard for ha-has.

And it made me a little sad. Not so much for the agriculture, I'm sorry to say, but for myself. If only I had devoted myself to a life of moths, I could have been the one in the New York Times. If I had devoted myself to a life of, well, anything, I could be in the NYT for that thing.
Even Mike, who isn't likely to be in the NYT for any of his passions, is at least very good a few things -- skiing, fishing, to name a few. But me, I'm still working on my triangle pose, trying out new recipes from Cooking Light, driving my children to school, and wasting time on my computer.... I can't even say I'm an amazing mother or friend. Oh well. Tomorrow is another day!

Mia's Babyhood

Mia is a little over three now, and she's on the cusp of some pretty big changes. In some ways, she's a very big girl. She knows most of the letters of the alphabet and what sounds they make (many more than her brother who is a year and a half older, I might add). She can sort of write her name (which is cool even if it is only three letters). She's also doing amazingly well at swimming. She's completely settled into preschool, and is generally too busy to even kiss me goodbye.

But in other ways she's still a baby. She still takes a binkie. Basically whenever she can get you to give it to her. And she sleeps with a diaper. Which is pretty full in the morning. (I won't talk about how she fell asleep and peed on the seat of the airplane last week except to say that I felt terrible about the next passenger...). And more often than not, she sleeps with us!

Sometimes, especially when I look at that dirty binkie or go to Walgreens for more diapers, I want to hurry her along into girlhood. Haven't we had babies long enough? But then I realize how fleeting and fragile her babyhood really is, like a soap bubble that is floating off through the air... And I want to pull her into my lap, sniff her hair and hang onto every last moment.