hide and go ...hide

Thank you readers, all of you, for the positive feedback, ideas, and encouragement you've been sending lately. The transition is still under way - job has not yet begun, nor has the sitter been hired - but it does feel as if things are falling into place.

In their own ways, my kids each are picking up on the changes that are about to happen. Suddenly our solid gold sleeper Frances is waking up once or twice a night and coming to our room with all sorts of fears; Gabriel, who once liked to play in the child care area of the rec center where I exercise, suddenly starts sobbing when he realizes we are separated. Both of them follow me around and cling to my legs with a new, ferocious tenacity.

Okay. So. I am trying very hard to be empathetic and understanding with all this. Within seconds of leaving a room, I hear the thud-thud of Gabriel running and his dear little voice calling: Where Mama GO?? Frances is convinced aliens have come to take me away and starts yelling for me if I'm not where she expects me to be. She reads me the riot act - in her most impressive adolescent-in-training style - for going anywhere without her. Can you blame me for relishing our game of hide and seek today?

By relishing, I mean taking a serious wild and wicked pleasure in the whole thing. I confess, I had a nasty case of schadenfreude. In my defense, the children loved it and this was the fifth or sixth time we've played in the past week, at their request. Frances counts while peeking a bit, I run off and crawl under a bed or hop behind a shower curtain, and laugh like a mad woman while the two of them run all over the house screaming for me. Honestly, I only let it go for a minute or two! If you could have been hiding under the kitchen table with me, watching the two of them calling, laughing with increasing notes of panic in their voices, bumping into each other and running back and forth like frenzied little barnyard chickens in the hallway...keep in mind I am in plain view and am laughing out loud, uncontrollably. Those two were so wrapped up in the sheer panic of seeking and not finding that it took me calling out to them and crawling out from under the table to end that scene. Oh, but for a moment, it was so excellent. Mama really did disappear!!

Part of the fun is watching them play this together. And of course, looking for Frances with Gabriel as my little sidekick is hysterical. Everyone screams with delight and fear and I don't even mind. When Frances hides, she ends up jumping from her hiding spots with a big semi-disturbed grin on her face within seconds, unable to bear the suspense. When Gabriel found me hiding in their little fort (sheet over two chairs) he did the usual scream of discovery, then suddenly got serious and looked hard at me. I love you Mama, said the boy, and hugged me for a long minute.

I think I probably turned back into my usual mama self - the one who doesn't get children too worked up before bedtime, and doesn't take pleasure in the sounds of growing panic - after this still moment in our game. But for awhile there, it was outrageously fun. Watching their little feet run right past me from under the bed in the guest room, I laughed so hard I almost peed.

Maybe this sort of thing is fueling Frances's nighttime fears. But hopefully, in a strange way, this kind of wild play is serving the same cathartic release function for all three of us. I go away, we all freak out a little, but then I come back! And we get to scream and hug and run around the house!

As we gear up for life to change, it stays the same. In a good way. Here are some images from the past week or so. I'll start with the snowy ones, and take you to our glorious sunny warm afternoon yesterday.

Snow painting, idea courtesy of Milena, using food coloring and squirt bottles. It was a lovely thing to do after the snow had become icy and dirty and the novelty of it all was wearing off.

Frances designs a 'magazine for grown ups' about things grown ups are interested in; it is called The Worker.

A page from The Worker reads: day is quiet and fair.


In these pages, Frances cut out want ads from a magazine. Top reads 'spring will come and winter will end,' and the bottom page (featuring a want ad for a vegetable farmer, Mike's fantasy) reads 'the years will be happy.'

Gabriel develops a goggle obsession, in addition to his sunhat fetish.

He also has a newfound love for 'sewing.'

Our afternoon tea parties always feature place settings.

And finally, sunshine! Icy bits make excellent pretend ice cream, and the rivers of melting snow proved irresistible. Next time we'll wear boots.