she*had*a*thirst*for*knowledge

My sister took this video when we were driving to our cousin’s wedding in Missouri last March. I love how Matilda at the very end says “stop!”

The other night Tallulah woke up crying. She’d had a bad dream. She told me that in her dream she had brought Matilda to aftercare (afterschool program at her kindergarten) with her, and that they lost her. And then she burst into tears again, still half asleep, and said, “I love Matilda so much!”

Which jerked my heart a bit, because the way those two girls fight, sometimes it’s easy to forget that they are sisters, very close sisters, and that they love each other dearly. They’ve started sleeping in bed together, and it’s beyond adorable to see their two little heads on their pillows so near to each other, their dark hair and milky faces with sleep-ruddy cheeks so similar to each other. Tallulah looks a bit more like Sean, and Matilda looks a bit more like me, but they’re obviously sisters when you look at them.

It’s really heartening to see the love and care they show for each other sometimes.

I took a box of my daughter’s old shoes to the thrift store last weekend. I was a little sad to see that jumble of their adorable little shoes and then to just give it all away. I remember each of those pairs of shoes, and their little feet.

First frost of the season this morning!!!!!!!!!!

I explained September 11, 2001 to my daughters last night after reading the book The Man Who Walked Between the Towers. We’d read it a number of times before, but now they are very curious about why the towers are no longer there. So I explained in as kid-friendly language as possible what happened, and then showed them the pictures from the cover of the New York Times that I saved from 9/12/01 (but NOT the pictures inside, especially NOT the one of the person jumping from the building to a certain death). I never save newspapers but I saved that one. We talked about it a while and as far as I can guess they got this out of it - “Some very bad people flew airplanes into the buildings because they wanted to kill other people. And some people are bad, but thankfully most people are good.”

And then Matilda woke at 4 in the morning crying. She came to bed and told me about the scary monsters she saw in her dreams. She’s never really had nightmares before, not the sort of ones that rouse her from sleep. So I’m wondering if maybe that conversation caused it. Unfortunately, it was going to have to come up sooner or later.

And I remembered this morning how I, very largely pregnant, was sitting in a roadside diner with a very small Tallulah somewhere along I-5 on my way back to Oakland from San Diego. They were showing bombings in Iraq on the TVs, and I felt so hopeless. When we were marching in the streets in San Francisco, I knew it didn’t mean anything, that we all had no say in anything, that the war in Iraq was inevitable. But that night the impotence really came home for me. And now we’ve been bombing Iraq for the duration of Matilda’s entire life.

We’re getting ready for school right now, everyone’s dressed, I’m at the computer checking my e-mail, eating some bread, drinking coffee. My two girls come up to me and proudly stick their chests out saying, “Look at us!” They are both wearing cardigan sweaters, but they’ve only fastened them halfway, from the bottom up. I distractedly lean over and do my meddlesome, motherly duty, that is to begin to fasten their sweaters the rest of the way, but they back away in horror. “NO! Mom! They’re supposed to be like this.” And they’re trying so hard to look cool, so I figure this is some fashion concept they’ve defined for themselves? Somehow they decided half-opened from the neck down cardigans look cool. OK, that’s cool then. So I say to them, not at all mockingly, “You two are soooooo cool.” And they strut off to the other room, very pleased with themselves indeed.

Matilda’s preschool had a teacher work day today, so she stayed home with me. We went to the Nasher Museum of Art at Duke this morning, and it was a fun little outing. I’d been terrified to bring my children to a museum with me, just thinking of how bored they would get and how disappointed I’d be to have to leave after just a short visit, and so I’ve been avoiding them for years now. But she handled it pretty well, and we were well satisfied. The museum’s permanent collection is nice - and they had an impressive display of selections from it - I was particularly attracted to the very large 17th century (?) map of Rome and the John Singer Sargent painting. Matilda liked the giant allegorical painting of Christ and hell and devils and scourges and whatnot. We sat in front of that one for a while and talked about what we saw in the picture. She seemed to think it was pretty cool that someone painted that, as she’s no stranger to painting herself. The other two galleries were disappointing - one showing a 90 minute film with the theme of the Rape of the Sabine Women, and a sign out front warning of sexual violence (no shit) and possible inappropriateness for viewing by children - the other showing 6 short films with various themes. I was kind of fascinated with one that showed creepy computer-generated images of suburbia, Matilda liked the one of the pedicabs underwater. I got pissed off by the one that showed a naked woman from the neck down hula hooping a hoop made of barbed wire. Yawn. There was a sign in front of that one warning of nudity, and I thought “whatever, like she’s never seen naked people before,” so I walked in with Matilda. The sign should have warned about the close-ups of self-mortified, undulating flesh. The violence of it irritated me more than the nudity would have.

Yesterday Sean and I took the kids to the public library and then out to the country for ice cream at Maple View. I wished I’d brought my camera - the view was so perfectly North Carolina Piedmont.

Sunday we four went to Leanne’s son’s 3rd birthday party. We all got bit by mosquitoes but had a nice time. The kids had an incredible time, actually. There were two inflatable swimming pools. And beer and grape Kool-Aid (which my children had oddly never tasted before and which brought memories rushing back to me) and cool robot and monster-themed snacks.

Saturday I took my girls to the town commons to see the Radicackalacky puppet performances. We met up with Maria and Emily there. We stayed all afternoon. It was so much fun, to see an event in this town sponsored by people in my generation, for people in my generation, rather than by and for Boomers. That’s the feeling I got from it anyway. It felt far more relevant than all the other community events I’ve attended in this town. The energy was exciting, and I was feeling pretty glad about having my children grow up feeling comfortable in such a creative and (ugh, dare I say it) radical atmosphere. They had a blast. I thought the performances by Bread and Puppet Theater were particularly fun.

In all that time I also managed to finish two knitting projects and get dreaming on another and finish one book and start two more (this one and this one). My first day at my new job is tomorrow. I’m pretty excited about it.

This is week three of Staying Home With Tallulah While Maintaining My 40 Hour Work Week. Today, I really want to just sit at a table at Weaver Street Market or the Open Eye with a book. And I can’t wait until Tallulah can be persuaded to do the same thing, to sit with me, reading her own book, while I read my own book. We could read and drink our drinks together. Someday soon…

Kindergarten starts next week. I visited the school yesterday for orientation. The school is much nicer than my school was, although I have no complaints about my elementary school. The playground is bordered by large stands of trees, which makes a lovely visual backdrop. The playground at my school was bordered by a row of enormous eucalyptus trees and a chain-link fence, and beyond it the wind would whip across the sands of naval radar listening base from the ocean. My school playground, in my memories, is very white-yellow and baked with that California sun. Tallulah’s school’s playground is lush and green. Her school has a science lab, a music room, a library, an art room, an outdoor classroom, a bird-watching platform, gardens, etc. I’m impressed.

It’s not surprising that I felt out of place among the other parents at the orientation. At this point, I don’t know if I feel out of place because I expect to feel out of place, or if it’s because I really am out of place. Regardless, I’m starting to feel a little wistfully sad that the sorts of people I like to hang out with, the clever, caring, interesting, amusing, excited people, seem to be the sorts of people who do not expect to have children (with a few very noteworthy exceptions). Which is a perfectly valid, upstanding choice, to not have children. And yet, for my own selfish reasons, I wish I knew a lot more other adults who were the sort of people I am fond of, who were also parents.

My God, this has been a delightful weekend.

Friday, after a STUPENDOUS dinner at the Barbecue Joint with my family (pulled pork, cole slaw, fried squash, green beans with bacon, local tomatoes with home-made Ranch dressing and bacon, all dishes of the best quality) I went with my new friend Vivian to Jo & Joe’s in Durham to see the Smittens play. The Smittens were on a mini-tour and stopped in Durham on their way back to Vermont from the Popfest in Athens, GA. I’d been sort of acquainted with Colin and David in the band from the indiepop list, and I was really excited about meeting them, and it was really great. The whole band was very sweet and fun. Plus they played a nice set, straight-up cute indiepop. I got a kick especially out of seeing Holly drum, it was sort of inspiring because I’ve been thinking a lot about trying to learn how to play the drums. Ben B. came out to the show as well and bought me a beer as my “reward for coming out to Durham” ha ha. One does tend to be very Carrboro/Chapel Hill-centric with socializing…

And then I was taking the girls to Weaver Street Market late the next morning for coffee and small grocery items, when I ran into first Vivian and her husband Andrew, and then I ran into the Smittens again. It was very funny and cool to see them at Weaver Street. I introduced Tallulah and Matilda to them and told them that was the band I had gone to see the night before, and the looks on my girls’ faces were priceless, it was definitely like “ok….” I do wonder what those daughters of mine think about it all, this music obsession of mine.

After Weaver Street the three of us went to UNC’s botanical garden. The day was gorgeous, surprisingly mild temperature, brilliant sunny sky. Our visit to the garden ended poorly, with simultaneous tantrums from the both of them, but for a short time I was so happy, sitting on a bench, letting my mind wander, taking in the lovely, leafy garden in front of me while the children played. I got some paper and started trying to write down what I was thinking about, but after a few sentences I stopped, because sometimes it is best to just let one’s mind fixate on and devour the sweet thoughts one has.

In the evening, Sean and I took the girls over to visit with Emily while the two of us went to have a birthday dinner (happy birthday Sean!) at Magnolia Grill in Durham. We very rarely spend time together, just the two of us, and it was very relaxing and nice to just be together like that. Dinner was marvelous - wine, salad, country ham with black eyed peas appetizer, pork chop for me/pork something or other for Sean (it’s always pig products with this family), and then dessert and coffee. I had the cocoa-cola cake (extremely fluffy chocolate cake) with a small scopp of salty peanut ice cream, and Sean had the creme caramel. I’d heard a lot about the desserts at Magnolia Grill, and they definitely lived up to the hype (and at nearly $9 each they better have been stupendous, sheesh).

All in all - quality time spent with my family, happy time spent with assorted friends, meeting a cute band and watching their music, good food, suspecting that two threads in my life I’d been worrying about are sorting out quite nicely, a gentle frame of my mind, temperate skies - I feel today that I’m living the good life. Despite the current financial situation, despite having to sit here at work all day Sunday, despite all the worries in my head, I feel charmed right now.

I have been home with Tallulah in the daytime the past few days. We have watched the Chronicles of Narnia movie, the one with Tilda Swinton, twice. She was very curious about the very beginning, about the bombs falling on London, and why the children had to go away to the countryside. I tried to explain it as best I could. I can explain the facts of the Blitz, of the evacuation, fine. There was a war, and a lot of bombs were being dropped on the cities, and it was very dangerous, so a lot of the children were sent to live with other people out in the countryside to keep them safe, I told her. And it was very sad for a lot of people, but wars cause a lot of sad things to happen.

And then she asked me why the people were fighting the war. And how do I explain World War II to a five year old? At first I thought she was asking about the war in Narnia - that one’s easy to explain, it’s a battle between Good and Evil, as fantasy wars tend to be. But then I realized she meant the other war, the war that caused the children to live away from their family in a big rambling country house with the Professor. And now I think maybe she has the idea that World War II was a battle between Good and Evil as well. And I suppose that’s fine for her to think that now - she’s only 5 years old! why do I worry so much about making the world grey for her when black and white is alright and easier the first few years of life. She will know soon enough.

And secretly inside I was so thankful that I have to explain what a war is like to my five year old, that she doesn’t know first-hand what a war is, like so many five year olds in this world experience every day. And I was further thankful that I had to explain based on things I’ve read in books and seen in films because I have never experienced a war, have never seen bombs falling from the sky on houses and people. We are very lucky. And we need to remember that sometimes.

The children are quite fond of The Sound Of Music. We watch the DVD on the computer in my bedroom, and the girls sit primly on the edge of the bed and become engrossed in the film. Sometimes I sprawl in bed behind them with a book, or just lay down with my eyes closed and rest. I was resting the other day while the girls were watching this film, when I heard Lula say to her sister, “OK, the Nazis are coming, get the (unintelligible).” So Matilda ran out to the living room and got Sean’s bicycle hand-pump and brought it to Lula. And during the whole time the Nazis were a feature of the movie, the two of them took turns opening the pump up and then pushing the plunger down. They weren’t pointing the pump at the screen or anything, it was more like they were pushing down a detonator for dynamite, like in a cartoon (which cartoons I don’t think they’ve ever seen.) They were “killing Nazis.” I can’t tell you how startled I was.

Of course, I’m very anti-violence, particularly in regards to violence as entertainment. On the other hand, I think children work through issues they have, like a sense of lack of control in the world, through pretend violence. And while I do not at all let them even come near real-looking toy guns, I’ve let up a bit in allowing them to pretend kill things with very ad hoc guns, swords, etc. I used to be much more concerned about it, and I’m still obviously a little concerned, but as with all things parenting, things change as they get older, as I get older, and as we see how things go.

And another thing, I think it’s very interesting that they’ve picked up on Nazis = bad guys. In the movie they are set up as bad guys, but there is absolutely no description of the true horrors the Nazi regime perpetrated on the world. For now, it’s probably best that Nazis are just “bad guys” in their world, when they get older we can talk about what happened and why it happened, hopefully when they are old enough to see things with more shades of grey.

Seeing them react this way made me remember one time when I was young, perhaps 9 or so, sitting on the top bunk of my bunk bed with my best friend. I had a very large map of the world pinned to the wall next to my bed, and I would look at it constantly and think about other places. I pointed to the U.S.S.R. and told my friend, “That’s the U.S.S.R. It’s where the communists are, and they’re very bad.” I don’t think it’s anything my mother ever told me, but as an American child in the 80s it would have been pretty impossible not to get that message from the popular media. I suppose now for American children, the “bad guys” they pick up on from the media are the Islamofascists? (and oh how that word bothers me.)

In other streams of thought - it’s becoming more and more apparent that I could totally handle summer if it was just a question of dealing with the heat and humidity. But it’s the bugs that make it hellish! I’ve been wearing skirts a lot and have been getting mosquito bites on my thighs (not to mention the rest of my legs, my arms, etc.) I sprayed myself down with bugspray this morning, and now I’m going to smell like bugspray all day. Whenever I’m sitting and feel something tickling my leg, I get paranoid and assume it is a bug come to suck my blood, when it’s almost always just one of those things, a passing breeze, a tremor in the air, or whatever. It’s very annoying. How many more months left of this? I can’t wait until late fall when all the bugs are DEAD DEAD DEAD.