Thursday, January 29, 2009

what I was in my previous life

If I believed that people had previous lives, I would say I was a horse in mine. I just keep pulling my kids along. Today it happened to be in a box sheathed in our roof luggage carrier.
By chance we met up with some friends along the way and had a Smokehouse lunch with them.
Stewart and Nigel fell asleep in the box on their ride home.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

battle boys

Marshall and Stewart get along very well and are typically very loving, BUT, they love the drama of battle.
Here they are pretending they are in a movie as Knife Man and Knife Boy. In the second picture they are playing a paper Sumo Wrestling game (thanks to Yoriko and Shinsuke).

Friday, January 23, 2009

"next place"

Where am I now? In my studio, with a pile of bills. I have seven art projects waiting in the wings and all I can think about is the trip I'm taking in three and a half weeks.
I woke myself up two mornings ago, frantic. I had been dreaming about all the important things that I was going to forget to take. I quietly set up my suitcase and whenever I've thought of something since, it goes in.
I couldn't go back to sleep.
What does this mean? Have I become obsessed?
"I don't know.", to the first quesion. To the second one? Obsessed... yes (since my first moment as a pregnant woman)!
My first answer isn't good enough though, so I start the descent...
The "Next Place" has always been at my core. It was trained into my subconscious. I would describe it as a fixation on the future's "new world". It became my ideal, my way to cope with reality.
My pattern drawn early, 18 months to be exact, when Ecuador first became my home. This continued, with each upcoming trip, a "new world" was ahead of me along with the denial of the not-so-perfect past.
I became a wanderlust.
The "Next Place" was how I made the drudgery go away.
After I got married, my real life was REAL for awhile, with the awareness that this habit was no longer possible. And I developed other ways to deal with things.
I believe that I'm "wiser" now. I can say for sure that I am mature, right?
So now that I'm underneath my story now, I get it!
What it means to me is that this "Next Place" obsession, or fixation at best, is how I deal with life.
I wonder if we are alike.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

paying too much

I researched it. I believed I needed a stroller for two that was the width of a single and had air-filled tires. So I spent a lot of money on Phil & Teds Vibe.
I took it to the grocery yesterday. Marshall pushed it while I loaded the cart.
Everyone was happy. Euphoria!

It is the answer to my problems, ALL of them, including the bus-riding, kid-carting, Ecuador-trapesing ones!

I plan to sell it in the fall, (if I can part with it).

Monday, January 19, 2009

too cold for Stewart and baby

Last week, the weather demanded some bundling.
I wondered who could resist such fluffy snow? The question was answered quickly, with Stewart crying to be undone. Nigel was worried about how it felt underfoot and only moved to get closer towards me. The experience was a short one. I longed to stay out with my bravest, Marshall!

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

riding on IndyGo

Yesterday we went riding. As we were approaching our #55 stop early, we saw the bus zoom by. We went home.
An hour later, we went out again for the next bus, this time we went 5 minutes early, and waited for 25 minutes.
Marshall led us to our seats at the back of the bus. As we sat there, the boys looked so proud, holding tight to their lunch bags on their high seats. I could tell they were excited to try something new (last time we did it was when Stewart was a baby).
We traveled east to Washington Street, where we got off and walked the equivalent of three blocks to the YMCA.
We made sure to leave in time to catch the bus and got to the stop in time for the bus to arrive. The walk back to the bus stop was stressful because it was super windy, and the kids had become tired. Stewart was cold and crying. They ate their lunches in the cold as we waited for the bus. We waited 30 minutes. By this time Nigel was crying too. I told them we would get on whatever bus came along next. It was the #8 bus. We got on.
I had to get them warmed-up. I told the bus driver that we had waited 30 minutes for bus #55. He said, "You mean that one..." as #55 whizzed by. He mumbled something about how the bus would loop around and we could catch it when it came around, so we got off. Our bus never came by. We did watch helplessly as it looped around on Shortridge, where there were no stops (I knew this because I had dragged the boys over there to check it out and try to stay warm. That was when Marshall started crying.).
So we missed that bus. Twice! Shit!
I was trying to stay positive, and I couldn't help but laugh. I felt like wailing. Defeated and desperate, we got on the next bus, #8, and took it downtown.
Around this time, a large woman sat next to Stewart. He acted shy. She started teasing him with a loud voice, saying, "I'll move. Don't be shy. Don't be scared. I''ll move if you give me your apple. Can I have your apple?" I told her twice, "He's ok, he's just a little shy." She kept on with the "taking his apple" bit. He started crying and then I had two kids on my lap.
We only waited 15 minutes for the outbound #55, amidst the warm cigarette smoke and while witnessing a throwing-up lady.
We're going to do it again, and again. Just not today, and next time with a stroller.