relish this moment

Gabriel listened to the entirety of All of a Kind Family with us, despite the fact that his sister and I shared reading duty and that it is about a family of five girls who occasionally indulge in anti-boy talk (I resisted the urge to cover his tender ears). The ethos of a big, loving Jewish family living on the Lower East Side in 1912 is what drew him to this story. It suits him perfectly. The descriptions of close family life and in particular the centrality of food resonated in his little big heart. I do believe Gabriel is happiest at home, surrounded by his family, standing on a chair at the kitchen counter, stirring and tasting away.

When I read how Charlie relished his potato kugel, Gabriel stopped me. He knew the noun relish, but not the verb. What did it mean?

Like when you close your eyes at dinner, I explained.

love hurts

This is one of many arresting acrostics I've received from my dear literary daughter. It's evocative and unconventional (moonlight!), but then ... hmm, kind of strange with the mine business...and then oh dear, always mine makes it sound like it's coming from the pen of a poetic stalker. Or just a very direct, earnest little girl.

Lately Frances has been possessive and particularly resentful of the attentions her super cute little brother gracefully receives. Alternately a pretend baby and a shockingly accurate adolescent-in-training (she matter-of-factly told me she was taking the shoelaces out of her sparkly sneakers yesterday, except that's not what they're called. Mama! I have told you a hundred times they're not called sparkly sneakers!), Frances seems to be uncomfortable in her own six-year-old skin. 

craftlandia

Feast your eyes upon the balance board that I made for my family for Christmas. Yes, I made it! And yes, those zig zags are nothing more than duct tape painstakingly applied over a much longer time than one would think necessary, something I could never have seen through til the late-night end without the support of friends who came over to drink wine and make balance boards with me.

It's weird that it took me this long to organize some adult crafting. I love making stuff with my kids, but that requires valuing process over product, flexibility, tolerating messes, and navigating the limits of their patience. Making things with an adult crowd is so different. I can indulge my perfectionist tendencies! And laugh at them with friends--while still refusing to slow down the perfectionist train!

I was probably inspired in some way by Crafternoon, a book and terrific concept (which is, as far as I understand it, getting together to make stuff with your friends) promoted by the best pal of one of our best pals. Of course, with little ones around, crafternoons are not always possible. But post-bedtime crafting? Some encrafted evening? A craftastic night? Lordy, somebody stop me. But you get my meaning: it was super fun. I'll do it again.

fresh intentions

I'm a year-round maker of resolutions. The varied commitments I privately, persistently make - everything from drinking more water to giving more to charity, from reading more poetry to eating more kale - have at times set me teetering on the edge of pathology (maybe it's already in the DSM? Self-improving Personality Disorder?). So no, I'm not making any resolutions today. Instead, I have a few lines to share with you that have been coloring my vision over the past few days, lending me a sense of fresh intention about motherhood.

The first I encountered in a book loaned to me long ago. Everyday Blessings had been collecting alarming amounts of dust on my bedside table until I picked it up and shook it off recently, opening to this quote:

Once the realization is accepted that even between the closest human beings infinite distances continue to exist, a wonderful living side by side can grow up, if they succeed in loving the distance between them which makes it possible for each to see the other whole against the sky.

-Rilke