Occupy Mama: sing-grab-grope
Seed-planting therapy is going just great; also peach-blossom therapy, greenhouse chard therapy, riding bikes therapy and opening the windows therapy, and today for the very first time: wearing shorts therapy! One might think that the collective diagnosis for our afflictions is called, simply, winter.
It reminds me of my friend David who had this old red truck, affectionately called Big Red. Big Red was a semi-reliable, gas guzzling, yet charming beast which made commuting to work more adventure (as in: will the truck start today?) than routine. When David bought a more reliable used vehicle, his girlfriend told me he was relieved and happy to get rid of Big Red. “But I thought he loved Big Red,” I told her, “it was like part of him.” “He had to love it,” she replied, “it required that of him.”
All this giddy relief of spring makes me wonder if I actually pep-talk myself through the beast of winter, because y’know, it requires that of me. I mean, I do love winter, don’t I? The indoor family togetherness, the snow blatting at the windows, the UNO tournaments that last until my brain starts oozing out of my ears. Right? Right?
Exactly what it looks like.
We’ve been waking up to Rose singing: “in the jungle, the mighty jungle the lion sleeps toniiiiiiiiight. A weeeee-eeeeeeeee-eeeeeee-eeeeeeeee-ahmamawayyyyyy.”
Then, 2 pairs of footsteps padding down the hall, and the kids flop into bed with us.
Rose: (in my ear) “In the village, the peaceful village, a weeeee-eeeeeeeee-eeeeeee-eeeeeeeee-ahmamawayyyyyy.”
Col: (plunging his hands in my belly) “Mama, I love your soft, blubbery belly.”
Dan: (hands groping for a crumb of me the children haven’t already colonized, landing on a soft warm spot and staking his claim).
It’s Occupy Mama here, every morning, and despite loud sounds in my ear, small hands grabbing fistfuls of belly, and big hands roaming—sing-grab-grope-sing-grab-grope—I think this is the most lucky way to wake up ever.
http://i67.photobucket.com/albums/h288/rachelturiel/goodmorning2_zps9a14df29.jpg
After the bed-operas, there’s the owl pellets.
Also, did you know I use my own recipes from DIY Kitchen all the time? All the time. Which makes me feel like the housewife from some 70’s commercial announcing “we love rice-a-roni so much, I even made it for my son’s wedding!”
But I did! I made the (raw, dairy-free, sugar-free) frosting from this recipe for a very special park date Rose and I had recently. (And I’d totally make it for her wedding, too). We dipped apples into the fudginess of it and then nearly died from the deliciousness.
Raw chocolate fudge: avocado, unsweetened chocolate powder, and honey. Ninja hippie mom strikes again!
Also, the Gentile Latkeh King made me sweet potato latkehs for breakfast last week (topped with green chile sauce and applesauce). This may or may not contribute to early morning groping rights.
Photo by Rose!
And mayo! Have you made the mayo yet? It’s like a ballad that lemons and garlic sing to each other in the slippery ocean of olive oil.
Egg salad with homemade mayo over a huge salad is the bestest lunch in the world. (Besides apples dipped in raw fudgy frosting).
And granola. Funnily, I didn’t actually have a granola recipe before I created one for the blog, and now I use that recipe every time, and each time I’m so happily surprised at how consistently delicious it is ( A recipe! Who knew?), which makes me feel even more like the housewife from the 70’s commercial.
The staplest staple of all the staples; except yogurt.
Two more:
* Early registration discount for the The Dalcroze class ends Tuesday (tomorrow).
Big Red and Winter, buh bye. Hello to the resounding cheer of every little green thing singing its coming out theme.
xo,
Rachel
ps: How do you wake up every morning? And what’s your spring therapy?
Follow
Half my mornings I wake up twice – once when a little person climbs close enough to fling her short arm across my neck, and once later, after I have finally gotten back to sleep (usually to the tune of This American Life on my iPod) but now she is asking for snuggle time (what were the last three hours?) There is a ritual piggy back to the potty, and then a short discussion of why there is no ____(entertainment of choice), possibly ever but certainly not if breakfast and clothes changing are not done. The other half, she is with her daddy, and I am either heading to paid work before anyone I am well acquainted with with a jar of tea, or sleeping on and off til pretty decadently late (weekends) or lying still reading on my iPod under the covers because I am awake but my tenants/girlfriend/crickets are not, and it would be rude to get up and wash the dishes just now. It’s a schizo morning schedule, and it works o.k. I do feel incredibly lucky to have a job that is flexible enough to have variable start times, depending on whether I’m hanging with my kiddo or not.
crickets? girlfriend? (congrats).
Thanks for the reminder of the recipes! I have not embraced my Cook-ness yet so you are helping! We grow all these amazing vegetables and then all I have energy for is cheese and crackers. Oofda!
No kids in this household so we wake up to the dogs whining for their breakfast and the donkey hee-hawing (not joking here) outside the window for her breakfast. Some time this week, we should wake up to a couple of goat kids freshly born and a few udders tight with milk.
Spring is so sweet. Thanks for your continual inspiration.
I’m thinking it would be very hard not to wake up smiling when a donkey is hee-hawing outside your window. xo
Yesterday, the wood pecker somewhere on the house at 7 AM, most days at 4 AM the robins sing but more often they chatter, and a soft kitty blurting “it’s time, it’s time, you’re late, you’re late,” about 6:42 AM. Oh, and the sun…
Spring comes with the yellow plants, the daffs and the forsythia, and soon the old clove bushes. The wild purple violets and the blue ajuga bloom in late May. The red and pink roses in June, and the sweet woodruff too.
I wake up to much grabbing and groping as well. I try to keep sleeping through the knitting echo does with my tangly hair but then she starts TALKING. Talking like we’ve been having a conversation the whole night and this is just an extension of that. No warm up, no small talk, just an all-out launch into the dream she was just having, an analysis of Lemony Snicket, a vocab question (“What does opaque mean?”), or some other lengthy and loud discussion that requires my full wits and participation. Then I manage to negotiate a partner snuggle by allowing her to build a fort 2 inches from my nose with my discarded clothes. When time’s up I put on some clothes from that very fort and stumble out the door. And somehow it does still seem like a very very lucky way to wake up.
xo
Our wake up time is 5:30 am. It appears that both girls are early morning risers, and I’ve actually become quite use to it. I get to see the sunrise or feel the crisp cold air before the sun shines and warms everything up, sometimes we even get to see a bear.
I love that you started everything as therapy. Gardening and nature is most definitely my therapy, it’s the quiet and balance I need to the busy craziness of raising children and homemaking.
We made black bean chocolate ‘fudge’ this weekend for my daughters birthday party. It’s quite amazing the range of desserts that are egg/dairy/gluten free if one has imagination! There seems to be so many allergies these days so I try and make foods that eliminate anyone not having anything to eat!
Your latkes post (with the giant plate size latkes) was one of the first I ever read on this blog. Super glad you post such amazing recipes, I look forward to more.
Our kids wake early too. In fact, now that the sun is streaming in our room at 6am, I can’t really fathom how people sleep past 6:30. (which is like the latest anyone in our household has slept in the past 8 years).
this time of year my spring therapy consists of hunching down near the window to catch any amount of sunshine that might hopefully be peaking through. i take in that solar gain like it might be the last! we cant count on blue skies here until after the 4th of july! so shorts, not yet. but you will be the first to know when i shock the world with these pastey white legs.
I’d trade you 1 million watts of sunshine for 5 rainy days if I could. :)
i know, right?? grass is greener syndrome. maybe we should do one of those house-swap vacations.
Oh Rachel, this entire post (brimming with life and giddiness) makes ME feel completely giddy. Thank you for being so you – and for shovelling on us these lush pictures of spring: chard, sun-tanned Rose and owl pellets included. Although the most delicious part of the post is your own words…
Speaking of delicious, I am sure Rose enjoyed her special park date with you :o) and not just because of the raw chocolate fudge.
Will you marry me?
Gladly :o)
How I love the idea of the kids grabbing while daddy gropes. We are pretty jealous of our early-morning bed around here, but I’d lie if I said that the dynamic does not resemble yours WHEN we let the kids into our bed. It is pretty hilarious to be making out while the kids are giggling.
Yes, all those hands can get a little, um, confusing. :)
nice. my wake up on weekdays is rich hugging and kissing me, fresh from shaving his face, so i smell his witch hazel aftershave. thus am i persuaded to make another lunch for him to take to work. and a breakfast, and a coffee. i even pack him cookies, cheerfully, after said wakeup. on weekends, it depends who wakes up first who grabs/gropes/snuggles me first. on sunday, quinn woke up early, came and got into bed, spooned himself into my belly, and promptly went back to sleep, and since i could no longer fit in the bed without my arms falling asleep, i got bumped to the couch. but the moments before the arms fell asleep were wonderful. i am so with you on seed planting therapy and its cheapness.
My spring therapy is digging in the dirt. And sitting under my dogwood tree, beverage optional.
My mornings consist of me trying to drag a very cranky 11 year old girl out of bed. Who is very much not a morning person and who is very capable of sleeping until at least 10 am or later if given the chance. Reading this really makes me miss the mama occupation. Which actually happened last Saturday morning at 7 am as she stood over me, saying she really needed a mama chat. It was quite lovely.