Northern Noise

I should know by now never to ask, "Can things get any worse?" Because they always can. Always.

Today my youngest turns six years old. At this time six years ago I was trying to convince the nurse to let me out of the hospital so I could come home. "But your complimentary fruit basket won't be here until tomorrow!" she pleaded. I offered it as a donation to the wonderful nursing staff at the hospital, and headed home. It's amazing how quickly time goes, and how much children add to your life. My oldest is graduating this year, my middle will start high school, and now the boy is six. I'm constantly amazed at how cool they are, how much I like them. At milestone points though I wonder, what will I do when they all grow up? It's a paradox, this growing up thing. I love every age, and want them to have experiences, challenges. I am amazed watching them grow, change, learn - and I want that for them. But then I think of them all gone, of no one to sit on my lap and snuggle me, of not sneaking in at night to kiss them and whisper "mama loves

I'm still pissed off. Today we bought a prom dress and she looked beautiful and felt great. And then she started second guessing herself. I want to take her and keep her away from the rest of the world while I de-program and re-program her. I want to jump forward 9 weeks until she's done with school and see how she does without the stress. I want to go find boys who have broken her heart (or whom she thinks has broken her heart, which has the same effect) and use my superior intellect and vocabulary to emasculate them emotionally. I want to know how to make everything okay.

It's funny how you know things but can convince yourself you don't. It's funny how your instincts can tell you something is up, but your brain rationalizes that's it's all okay. It's funny how you can tell your kids you love them, but they don't always hear it. It's funny how beautiful people second guess themselves. It's funny how our teenage girls are brainwashed by the media to think that fantasy must be their reality or they're somehow defective. It's infuriating that a young beautiful girl with her whole life ahead of her is somehow convinced that she's nothing. Fuck the world.

9 weeks until school is out and summer begins. This last quarter always goes quickly -between the weather, the "how do I do it all" panic, the extras like testing and proms - May comes fast. It's always odd because I love teaching, I like my job, but by this point in the year I'm emotionally worn out. Spring break helps, especially spring breaks like the one where my husband spoils me rotten and I leave reality behind for five days. Spring is also energizing because the longer days bring hope. I start making to do lists - garden, house, projects, painting, books to read. This year the garden will be "done," or at least terraced and planted before July 4. This year, I'll get the rocks redone on the path, and weed guard down as well. In some ways it doesn't matter to me whether I really get these things done or not, the fun (at least this time of year) is just the planning, the pondering of life outside of school. 9 weeks to go and my mind is my

So I'm sitting here watching the skiers and snowboarders, young and old, out enjoying the slopes and the sunshine. Next to me is a 20ish, holding the book Germinal , although she never actually turned a page. Suddenly, her friends show up with a "Have you seen Kyle? We gotta bail NOW." But before she gathers her book, coffee and iPod, the ski patrol is here and they've got Kyle in tow. The first question that goes wrong is when they ask the girl, "Can you tell me the name of your friend here?" and she answers "No." (and they all exchange nervous glances, except for Kyle, who thinks he's hot stuff.) To an outsider, this is humorous. Obviously the ski patrol fellow knows what he's doing, and has dealt with this sort of arrogant youngster before. Why do teens and 20's think that if they act cool and indignant they'll win? The best thing Kyle could do is throw himself upon the mercy of the dude, confess, and be polite. Refusing t

I don't think I know how to really relax anymore. Life is always so busy that even when my body is still, my mind keeps on churning. I've become aware of this constant churning within my chest as if my motor is always idling, ready at a moment's notice. So today, here I am at Alyeska, sitting in front of a big ol' window, looking at amazing mountain scenary and lots of happy skiers and snowboarders. Somewhere on that mountain is my husband, trying out downhill skiing for the first time since 1983. (Gosh I hope he comes back in one piece!) I'm drinking coffee, reading my book, blogging, and enjoying the fact that there's nothing I have to do. Well, there's actually plenty to do but I didn't bring it with me, so I need to let it go, right? I wonder when I lost my ability to relax? I wonder how I find it again? I refuse to accept that it's "just the way it is" with busy schedules, kids and jobs. Other people do it and I need to learn

Exercise shouldn't be a bad word, so why have I lately become so aversive to the very idea of it? I used to love to exercise - really. I loved to run, to hike, to lift weights, to walk through the woods with the kids, to sled down the hill, to haul water to gardens. Now, although I still like the idea of exercising, it's just not happening for me. Part of it is probably winter. February is a long cold month better suited to hibernation than work. Part of it is the plethora of winter chills and flus that have plagued my household. Part of it that I'm just plumb lazy. Still, this is my week to get started. I've started being positive - keeping a cheery tone in my voice and saying "isn't it a wonderful morning?" when I really want to snarl and drink coffee in a cave somewhere. I've stuck to a pretty healthy eating plan and seen a few pounds go. Now, I need to exercise. I think the hard part is that really the time that's available for me to