Our boys were off school on Thursday and Friday for parent-teacher conferences, so it feels like we just had a four-day weekend. It was a busy couple of days followed by complete nose-to-the-grindstone work at home. We cleaned, did yard work, cleaned some more, did laundry, cooked and baked, organized and pared down. The dust alone in this house, from the never-ending construction next door and from our own bathroom remodel, from having the windows open at the end of October and it all sneaking in — it all accumulated in the worst way, so everything needed a really good cleaning!
It was so nice, though, hunkering down and focusing inward. Maybe the supermoon last night has something to do with it (did you see it?!!)? There has been a shift within our house and within me — suddenly I am so productive and working constantly, mind buzzing with ideas. Whether it is on the new job I’ve happily accepted (which is going so, so well!), or out in the garden, or in the yard, or inside the house, the momentum is going and it feels wonderful. It’s a kind of productivity that feels satisfying rather than stifling or anxiety-ridden, and there is a great difference between the two. I’m thankful it’s the former, as I sometimes struggle with that awful imposing other type, which is just no good.
A funny thing happened yesterday. I was writing about Simon Nicholson’s theory of loose parts, when I looked down to discover what Emil had created with our own loose parts: the blocks and dominos he had combined to make a little city out of. I got down and looked at each section, then saw this:
Emil, who saw me looking, jumped in before I could ask: “That’s Donald Trump. He’s building his wall!”
Oh.
And suddenly, this cool thing my kid had done (built a really cool city out of blocks and dominos) became something else. It became a reminder that he, and all of our children, are listening.
My five-year-old son. My littlest one. My boy who, for the past year, has unwittingly taken on the sound bites from the future president and has heard more than he should have. How could he not? The rhetoric has been everywhere. He doesn’t understand, and yet, here it is. There’s so much I want to say but this just isn’t the place to say it.
Aside from that little sadness, the weekend was simple and sweet. We moved on from politics, shut off the radio completely. Andrew taught Oliver how to make bread. He also made a big pot of chili, which turned out to be a favorite. The whole house smelled sweet and smokey and just like fall. Andrew and I went out on Saturday night and enjoyed each other’s company — it had been far too long since just the two of us went out on the town— we love our friends so much, which sometimes makes us forget to go out alone every now and then!
We enter this week hopeful and feeling the start of the holiday season upon us — the anticipation of seeing family, the good food and conversation to be shared, the curling up on the couch with good books, good music, and plenty of games. It’s a good time of year. Let’s not forget that.
