Have I mentioned our library before?
Well please humour me some more then.
They advertised a book spine poetry contest which we eagerly participated in and then promptly missed the submission date. The girls were awfully proud of their free verse creations but didn’t seem too upset when I told them I’d forgotten to send them in. But that’s how it is with writing. The thrill is in the doing or just finished doing, not what might come next. Then again, I’m not a very reliable source; I’ve never won any literary accolades so I’m only supposing how unfulfilling it all might be. 🙂 Belén composed two of these and Susanna the other. Can you guess who wrote what?
On the home front, we’ve settled into a comfortable routine this fall. With only one music lesson to get to each week there isn’t a lot of running around. My days, too, are simplified. I’ve decided to pass on all the baby enrichment activities–baby yoga, baby music, baby swim classes, etc.–and keep my schedule open. I’ve been surprised how each day passes quickly, often with an impromptu visit or walk with a friend, and it’s reminded me how doing less can lead to more. When people ask me when I’m available I get to say, “Now. And anytime after that”. It’s really quite nice having no life.
Another reason we’re opting out of music classes is that Vivian seems to get enough of it at home. She is Belén and Susanna’s fan base. (You add the word “base” to fan and it doesn’t sound so singular–a lesson learned from The Flight of the Conchords). Of course, now they not only fight about where each gets to practise, but who gets Vivi during practise time. Today I divided her attention between the two; fifteen minutes of Vivi salivating, gurgling, and grinning along with Belen’s finger-picking, then fifteen minutes of her staring up at Susanna’s flashing bow. Everyone was happy.
This morning a stranger peered into my stroller and asked me kindly if she was a “good” baby. Years ago when I was up to my neck in parenting books, I read that every baby is good, only some are more spirited and sensitive than others. This comforted me a little, I knew my babies weren’t bad just because of their nocturnal screaming habits, but it still wasn’t easy. In fact, sometimes I felt like there was nothing “good” about babies at all. This time around it feels different. It makes me wonder if we should invent a larger vocabulary for motherhood, like the Inuit and all their words for snow. What I call being a mom, and your experience of it, may be the difference between wet slush and dry flakes.
By now I’ve stopped waking up to check on Vivi at night and only thank her, God, and my lucky stars that she seems to like uninterrupted sleep as much as I do. I never had a chance to worry about SIDS with my other girls, or check if they were still breathing, because they were always awake. By the time they would finally stop crying I’d be practically unconscious. But this one? She sleeps. And guess what? I’m doing it all wrong! I don’t care how many times I feed her, when I feed her, or what side I feed her on. I don’t care when she sleeps or if she does it on her back or side or belly. (See, I told you I’m doing it all wrong.) But… she is a stinkin’ good baby. I tell you this just in case you are like I was ten years ago, heavy-lidded and nearly hopeless. If you are wondering what you’re doing wrong, I can’t say for sure, but I bet it’s nothing. Babies are different and they call for different measures. I’m doing the same “wrong” things I did a decade ago that made me think I was incompetent, only now they make me feel like a pro. What works for one kid will fail with another. Amazing isn’t it? How we as a society, and even individuals like myself, have a hard time grasping that one.
By now you must be itching to get to the sauerkraut part of the post. Well, you’ve arrived. Though it’s the first stop on most people’s journey with ferments, I had never tried sauerkraut, until now. A jar-full of cabbage always seemed far less interesting than, say, fermented salsa or even yoghurt, but my prerequisites have changed. Easy is more important than interesting these days and sauerkraut definitely fits the bill. In fact, I’ve thrown out my kefir crystals, dumped my kombucha, misplaced my buttermilk cultures, and retired my sourdough. You do what you gotta do. I probably wouldn’t have started with sauerkraut except that Stan is in charge of the groceries now and he keeps buying cabbage after cabbage. What’s a woman to do with it all? Leave it on her counter, of course. Whew. Crisis averted with a little chopping, salt and patience. It’s that easy.
Have a great weekend,
Ps. Thanking you for reading my lament in the last post, for commenting, and praying. My friend, Shelly, amazes me; in the midst of everything she invites us over to carve pumpkins and roasts the seeds while hooking up the feeding tube, she never forgets to ask me how we’re doing, and still manages to make every conversation funnier when she’s a part of it. If they cross your mind, please continue to pray.