Anyone can take a photo of something pretty. Sometimes it's nice to have variety.
My kid recently started kindergarten. As Christine Thresh once told me, very wisely, school is for the parents, not the children. It's unbelievable. Wonderful. Instead of running what amounts to a home-based preschool AND doing the household crap people with ovaries seem to end up doing AND doing maintenance/repairs AND trying to shoehorn in my own aspirations in the evening, there's some breathing room.
We visited Oahu back in July. This is a homeless encampment near Wai'anae, Oahu.
A teacher, bless her heart, now deals with my child five or six hours a day. She deserves a medal. All I have to do is volunteer a bit, get a report on whether the boy has behaved or not, discipline him as necessary, and work on the areas where he's lagging. That still leaves tons of lovely time to bat balls around with him and make catapults or plaster casts or whatever crazy thing he's interested in this week.
Another structure in the homeless encampment. These sorts of makeshift arrangements stretch along the beach for what feels like miles.
God, I adore that kid. I think most of us would die for our kids, and I'm not any different. Maybe it's a mammal thing that's hardwired into us. We cuddle our young rather than eating them. I'm glad I spent the last six years with him, glad I had that option. Nevertheless, I guess he isn't what one would call an "easy" kid. He's a negotiator, a "sea lawyer," and is often out to cut a deal on whatever he doesn't want to do. He's also "on" constantly, from the time he wakes up to the time I physically hold him down in bed (under the guise of hugging him, of course) during bedtime stories until his brain and body finally shut down. He is often exhausting to be around.
On the day we were to fly out of Oahu, we had a few hours to kill. My husband said something on the order of "Hey, let's hike up to Manoa Falls! This guide says it's a pretty easy hike and only about a mile!" Um. Okay.
In practice, I don't think about that kind of thing much. It's just life. However, it was kind of driven home for me today at a birthday party. As usual, he was going constantly. Playing soccer or basketball, blowing bubbles, running up and down stairs, riding a scooter, pounding on a drum. He wore the other kids out and they retreated to a rug to play with cars and little toys. He was still revved up, so I did what I often do, kicking a ball so far away that he had to run back and forth long distances to retrieve it. Sometimes that will take the edge off a bit. The other parents were slightly aghast. When he isn't going physically, he's going mentally. I can't just read one book to him. He wants five or six at a time. He wants to do logic puzzles on the computer. He wants input constantly.
This outhouse was supposedly featured on Lost. I had to check it out.
"Okay, I'm coming! Grumble grumble. Well, at least the trail isn't too bad. If it's like this the rest of the way, the hike will be a piece of cake." (In case you didn't guess, that's a bit of foreshadowing.)
(For those who would advocate taking the lad to a doctor and having him drugged so he's easier to deal with, thanks but no thanks. Articles like this one have long since scared the crap out of me. Vigorous exercise seems to take the edge off, so we'll just stick with that.)
See the little yellow/orange blip in the lower middle of the picture? That's my spawn. I guess that's interesting as a scale reference. The trail is still pretty easy to navigate here, if muddy.
School is wonderful. Did I say that already? I'll say it again. School is wonderful. Somebody else comes up with a curriculum and supporting activities and keeps him busy for five or six hours a day. Somebody else feeds him. There are other children to play with. Yes, there are bumps in the road, but overall it's great.
"Okaaaay! I'm coming! Have a little patience, okay?!"
See the two women in the background, the little dots behind my son? They're clinging to each other. They're clinging to each other because the trail is made of mud and hopelessness has started to set in.
There were mud stairs here. I suppose that was supposed to be nicer than the other parts of the trail which were either mud slopes or boulders/tree roots coated with mud. At some point I had to put away my camera and just concentrate on keeping upright. I did a great deal of angry muttering about staying clean for the airplane ride, by then only a few hours away.
No more stress eating, for example. No more just cramming my mouth full of random foods out of boredom or frustration. No more locking myself in the bathroom from being so tired and stressed out I was afraid I'd be mean to my kid. I get in a mile a day of walking, just from taking him to and from school. If go around another block or two on the way home I can increase the total to a couple of miles. If my husband is along, we have uninterrupted conversations. Heaven!
Woohoo. The falls, which are inexplicably growing out of my husband's head. I guess it isn't as bad as having a tree grow out of his head. Next? Downhill. In the mud. By the way - thanks a heckuva lot, pea-brained people in the background, for passing beyond the "do not enter" signs. You made my afternoon just a little more hellish, having to tell a five-year-old that we weren't allowed to do the same thing. I hope the whole lot of you were eaten alive by mosquitos.
In the afternoon, just before he comes home, I can take a little nap so I have the energy to deal with him. I can think of projects we might do and set out materials or toys without being interrupted every five seconds. I think I'm actually enjoying his company more, perversely enough, now that I'm not around him as much.
On the way down, I fell on my bum. As in, whimpering in pain, grateful I didn't have osteoporosis, and one side of me conspicuously covered in mud. I think I managed to not curse. At that point, I ceased to care about staying clean and merely tried to stay upright and not break my camera. A downpour began as we reached the rental car. All three of us were soaked and covered in mud, with no access to a shower and only hours before a red-eye back to SFO. We swabbed away with baby wipes, I hastily changed clothes in the car, and we repaired to a shopping center to purchase clean shoes for my husband. Two days later, I broke out in itchy welts which made me consider a trip to a tropical disease specialist. It took about a month for me to get the last of the mud out of the crevices around my toenails.
You know what? That hike was a real adventure, one of the highlights of the trip. I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Well, maybe not on the afternoon we were due to fly out …
School is wonderful, so very wonderful. Well - for everyone except his teacher!
Other than that, I just finished my most ambitious art quilt yet. I wanted to leap the gap into color photorealism, something I hadn't tackled in fiber or painting. It sucked up all of the time I wasn't spending with my spawn, so everything else went on hold. Blog reading, watering the garden, personal hygiene. Now that it's done, I'm in that lovely and perplexing "what comes next?" state.
Just for fun, I'll post this photo of a toilet on the Wai'anae coast. Huh. What an interesting-looking toilet paper holder. Let's take a closer look, shall we?
I will note that I'm impressed with the professionalism of the Quilt National folks. They dropped me a note today - a Saturday, no less! - to say my entry had been received and processed. Now, my entry probably won't go much further than that - really, only extremely good work gets in to that show - but that was awfully considerate of them.
Bleah! I do NOT what to know what the brown stuff on the toilet paper holder is! In fact, I'm not going anywhere near that thing! I guess reusing a bleach bottle for a toilet paper holder is kind of a cool idea, though.
How's that for a dull blog entry?
14 comments:
I didn't think it was dull at all!
I actually really enjoyed it, 2 stories in one, that was cool!
Ew that toilet paper holder! Gross. But yay to you getting that breathing space again, I am all for down time and am a poorer mother if I don't get it.
No, far from dull. You're incapable of dull. That's a very bright boy you have there as well as a beautiful one.
I so clearly remember the first time I took my son, the youngest of 3 children, to nursery (2 hours, twice a week). He was three and the bigger of his sisters was eight. That was the first time I'd been alone for eight years. I sat in the study and wrote my diary and just revelled in the peace.
Now, of course, I'd give anything to have them all back.
Now that was an very interesting blog read!
I enjoyed the info on the Boy at school and some insights into how if has impacted favourably on your day to day dealings; then got a great pictorial 'tale' that somehow seemed to go hand-in-hand - of course now you will have to do it each time ... rotfl!!
I know the feeling of locking onself in a room to protect your child .... people with angelic DULL kids have no idea!!
Looks like a beautiful if muddy,exhausting hike.
And I also occasionally post the non-lovely just to keep things realistic.
Aren't you glad you stuck to your guns all those years ago? Sounds like your son is turning out just fine; the better, undoubtedly for all the time and effort and exhaustion you endured to keep up with him! Glad things are going so well for you!
Oh...that hideous roll holder.
I know a boy just like B.
Ugh ugh ugh! I didn't need to see that last picture so early in the morning! *shudder*
And I for one found the post highly entertaining. I missed you.
Heaven help the teacher.
I think it was an intriguing blog entry with the juxtaposition of the two streams. It worked and I loved all your pics except for the TP holder. WTF is that all about? Anyway, isn't that volcanic mud about the slickest shit on the planet, having also slipped in it. And yes, we saw the people sleeping on the beach in Kauai when last we were there. But, honestly (and sadly) I don't know how people manage to live in Hawaii.
I used to be the only parent at mommy and me classes who was never allowed to sit on the blanket and chat. I was always chasing after the boychild, who inevitably ran for the road at about 400 mph. You know what? When they hit puberty, they slow down CONSIDERABLY. He's like a snail now. It's amusing.
I really enjoyed the hike with you and your thoughts on school, but didnt like the toilet roll holder!!
VERY interesting on all accounts!
Pearl
Oh my. Oh my, oh my.
Don't medicate. I'm guessing you already know protein for breakfast is better than good? And that there's a natural vitamin available at health food stores called Concentrate? It doesn't have the potency of ADD meds, but it's quite helpful.
Just being the been-there-done-that mom.
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