The unexamined life...

Yesterday I got Grayson's Physical Education "report card" from school. Apparently they take records of the kids' ability in various exercises, such as curl-ups, pull-ups, quarter mile run, etc. at the beginning of the year and the kids are asked to set goals for what they'll be able to do at the end of the year. Then in the spring, they put them through their paces again and record the results.

Grayson's numbers actually got WORSE.... in EVERY category. Oh, except for pull-ups. He couldn't do any of those at the beginning of the year and couldn't do any at the end, either, so there's a net zero on that one. WTF? Looks like here is yet another thing I need to worry about. Clearly I'm not getting my kid enough exercise. OK, or myself either.

I read in a magazine this morning that the Obamas allow no television for their girls during the week. None. Man, Grayson is jacked into the TV or the computer from the moment he gets home ... sometimes both. It's on until I make him turn it off for reading time at 8:30.

I've been thinking a lot about my life lately. It started when I attended the funeral of my great uncle Don Lynn last Tuesday and the minister talked about the principles by which Don had lived his life. I sat there and thought: "are there principles by which I live? Or am I just flying by the seat of my pants here?" I couldn't think of anything I "believe" in or that I use as some sort of touch stone for my actions and choices. I couldn't name any "principles" I keep in the forefront of my mind.

Then there were the chickens and the irony of the animal I had taken in as an act of kindness killing the animals I had taken on as a gesture toward greener, more natural living. Sorry, but the predator/prey relationship was a little closer to nature than I was aiming. I wondered if I was stupid or just naive... if I had taken on too much, if I made sensible choices in my life.

The disappearance of Mambo made me question my sanity. Wasn't he right there a minute ago? Am I nuts? Then I started looking at my own levels of responsibility, of focus. Surely I knew better than to take my eyes off of him. I would have expected Grayson to watch him outside, wouldn't I? I began to think of myself as uncommitted to my responsibilities, unable to follow through thoroughly on things. And I admit I wondered if all the bad luck was some sort of karmic payback for just not living right. Living sloppily, haphazardly, without discipline or guideposts or plan.

Now here's Grayson's PE report card showing he's actually losing strength and ability and stamina. Giving up earlier, not trying as hard. Are these things he is learning from his mother? Have I just given in? I admit I feel tired all the time. I fall into bed exhausted at 9 and drag myself unwillingly from sleep at 7. I wash loads of laundry and never get around to folding them. Lately I even start books and never finish them... just keep them lying around on tables with bookmarks or pencils in the pages, holding the page I may or may not ever get around to coming back to.

I think we need an overhaul... a life makeover. I think if I don't change the direction I'm going, I'm going to wind up where I'm headed.

When it rains

It seems dreadful luck comes in packs.

I've lost Mambo. On Sunday I took him outside to get some fresh air and sunshine. I set him down on a log inside a circle of garden fencing and did a little work on a flowerbed nearby. I moved over to the garden to plant one plant. When I came back to check on him, less than ten minutes later, he had vanished.

Oh! Grayson's face when I told him! I spent four hours looking for Mambo, turning over every stick in the woodpile, feeling under every bush and even climbing over fences to search neighbors' yards. Nothing.

Every morning and every afternoon I come home and look for him. Sometimes at lunch I come home and just walk the perimeter of the yard, hoping I might catch him out in the open, sunning on a log or something. I just can't imagine he can have gone far. But chances are he's already dead... taken by a hawk or a neighbor's dog. Poisoned by eating a pesticide treated bug.

I just can't believe I was so stupid and careless. I told Grayson it was okay to be mad at me for letting Mambo escape. In his typical fashion, he told me he wasn't mad at me. Just like he forgave Roxy for killing the chickens. He has forgiven me. And I'm reminded again of what a remarkable, gentle kid he is. I swear he has the open, forgiving nature of a saint. I'm amazed sometimes at how good he is.

Oh he's not perfect. He watches way too much television, whines about his homework, and is recalcitrant about cleaning his room. Like any kid. But his bad guys always turn into good guys, and he's prepared to see the "nice" in everyone he meets. He is eager to please people, flexible in his ways, and forgiving. Always forgiving. I love him so very very much.

So why did I bite him?

Yes, I bit my son. In my defense, I was asleep when I did it. It happened like this:
Grayson often still crawls into bed with me in the wee hours of the night. Most of the time he doesn't even disturb me enough for me to be aware he's doing it, I just wake up and there he is. Well, Monday night he had climbed into bed with me, and I was having a dream that someone was trying to abduct me: he was trying to stuff a rag in my mouth and shove me into a car.

So I bit him. I bit down through the rag in my mouth onto his hand or finger or whatever. Only it was Grayson's elbow I was biting! I guess he had his elbow out and it was pressing against my face and so I bit it!

Grayson sat up in bed and said "What happened?"
I came to in a kind of fog and realized I'd been dreaming, and then that I had probably actually been biting something and that something was likely Grayson! "Did I bite you?" I asked.
Grayson: dazed, groggy: "I think so..."
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart, did I bite hard?"
"kind of."

Turns out I bit him hard enough to break the skin. He has two tooth marks on his elbow! But in typical fashion, he forgave me. He wasn't upset or scared or angry... in fact, we both laughed about it and went back to sleep. That's my boy.

A horrible post

I should probably make a nice long blog about this, but I just can't,

Forgive me, the period-key on my laptop has been broken off by Roxy stepping on it and so I will have to substitute another mark for a period* How about an asterisk?

So last Wednesday Roxy, who had been lying in front of the door where the chicks were living, got in* She killed Gloria* I found her and spent some half an hour looking for the other two* Finally found Repecka under my bed and Vera behind a trash can in the bathroom, unscathed*

Thursday afternoon we buried Gloria in the back yard with many tears* Within half an hour, Roxy had burst in to the room again and killed the other two* It was so sad I can't even give a full account except that Grayson found them and when he realized what had happened, I'll never forget the way he cried, saying "I want them back! I want them back!"

Horrible* Just horrible* I buried them near Gloria, but not before Roxy had gone back, grabbed one of their towel-wrapped little bodies off the table, and chewed its head off* Thank god, Grayson didn't see or know* He was lying on the sofa just a few feet away, sobbing into a pillow*

Then today, I took Mambo out into the yard for some sun* I put him inside a ring of wire fencing on the grass and set him on a log* I worked near him for a few minutes, then I went over to the garden and planted a single plant* When I went back to check on him, he was gone* Vanished* I couldn't have been away 10 minutes* I spent four hours looking for him, turning over every plant and feeling under every bush and bunch of grass* I completely tossed over a big woodpile by the shed* He's nowhere to be found* Either he's really hunkered down somewhere or he's dead* Taken by a hawk, perhaps* I just can't believe it*

Grayson has been with his dad and Gray's mom all afternoon* He know Mambo is missing, and doesn't seem hysterical* I think he's been able to convince himself that Mambo is "free," out having adventures somewhere, and of course I'll help to perpetuate that* But Mambo is either dead or in peril, and there's nothing I can do*

I don't know how I could be so wrong about things, how I can keep making choices that will cause me and my boy terrible pain* Sometimes it seems like I can't do anything right, that I'm always making poor choices, getting us into things we can't handle, screwing things up*

Grayson is such a sweet and good natured kid* God, I just want to make his life a happy one, filled with good experiences, but it seems like everything I touch dies*