Friday, June 29, 2012
childhood is a word that only adults use to describe the years they can't remember as well as they think they can.
and that we (adults) think we can change what our children remember of their youth is absurd.
i might give up on quite a few things,
just love them, and hope
that they will remember only that.
Posted by Tara Thayer at 11:24 PM
Sunday, June 24, 2012
me, up early. me being productive. me kicking ass and taking names.
me, up early.
drinking tea, and moving small things around slightly so that they please me just a little bit more than they did before.
me, clearing out anna's desk from the last few months of school papers, of everything,
and so now
has a space where she can find things and make things and dream up things.
me, walking around the yard thinking i'm darn lucky to have a husband with a hobby that involves creating an outdoor home for us.
me, driving two girls to the train on their way to nyc for the gay pride parade.
me, fielding messages from girls who were not in our house this weekend, but who still need their mama nonetheless.
me, feeling grateful for them needing me, for them knowing they can always come to me, and for me being there when they do.
me, falling asleep under the apple tree on t.'s belly and waking up an hour later, t. moved on to washing my car.
me, not having anything else i needed to be doing.
me in love, loving, and content. and getting anxious about leaving home tomorrow.
for some reason(s), i'm having a harder time now than when i started back at work.
i miss home. especially now that i'm here.
best wishes to you.
Posted by Tara Thayer at 11:12 PM
Friday, June 22, 2012
it rained like the world was ending, for a half hour or so.
the creek getting fast first and then later swelling up over the bank.
last year, the same thing happened.
i sat in the parking line at the middle school
and the kids did not come out.
they were not released for a few ten, twenty minutes,
because of the rain.
i called tim from the car:
"they're not letting the kids out."
he said "yes, it's intense."
"i just pulled russell out of the creek."
when i got home,
when tim had had a shower,
when the girls had sung the song of their last day,
when (across the street) russell had crawled into and out of a warm bath,
when his parents had made their way over to our house
with a bottle of wine
still none of us
(except tim and russell)
knowing the whole story,
it came together.
tim and russell had been through something that only they really will ever remember as it happened.
all we all know is that they-we-are around to retell it one year to the day.
(or one day off. i'm sure russ remembers better than i.)
the last day of school this year,
i stayed home from work.
i'd forgotten how much i love-what a luxury it is-to run errands.
and the girls...
it seems as though we have all made it through another year, and they are well.
i love them.
the last day of school.
from here on in...
Posted by Tara Thayer at 9:54 PM
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
middle school graduation.
most of us there.
we two, here.
time we needed, and things are accelerating.
the summer has begun,
the schedule is set
and involves many girls
with much free time.
(or, different but harder; scheduled time requiring much transportation.)
this all falls to tim.
i will be at work.
and surely, an escape in a way.
but as it gets easier to be away during the day,
it becomes harder to come home.
oh-of course!-i love to come home. long to come home.
miss home, miss kisses and touch and the details i've built
my life around for years.
but i get used to being my own self, working competently among adults.
only rarely (hee!) does someone have a tantrum, an outburst.
only rarely (yuck.) is someone rude.
mostly, it's lovely. it's funny and fun and i work with people
i both feel as though,
and wish i had,
known for years.
home is messy.
it's really surprising to me to be this conflicted
about the least predictable aspect of leaving home.
the maybe enjoying it. a little bit.
just thinking out loud.
(which may define this whole thing, here.)
Monday, June 18, 2012
Saturday, June 9, 2012
t. woke up and woke people up.
he, plus his mom, plus three girls
off to the beach.
three still sleeping.
charlie and i got up.
walked around the yard, snipped a few flowers (me.)
dug a hole. (c.)
tea and little sandwiches of last night's bread buttered
and ham and last weekend's brie.
(a shame you can hardly say or type brie without sounding yuppie circa 1984.)
some loud annoyance from up the hill; weedwacker? chainsaw?
but birds, too,
and a little bit of rain
and quiet inside the house
and sleeping puppy on my feet.
one of the best mornings in so long.
i miss home.
but i'm here now.
hi again. trying to get back in the swing of things.
Posted by Tara Thayer at 9:46 AM
Friday, June 8, 2012
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Sunday, June 3, 2012
things are good.
we walked the pup all the way to town and back. a major first.
he is so good.
anna has poison ivy on her face and it's brutal.
she may have a touch of the allergic like her sister jo-jo.
the lawn guys are mowing next door (contrary to town ordinance, i might add...)
but i'm not being driven off of the porch.
i had such good intentions for this lazy un-busy weekend,
and so few of them have been followed through upon.
i'm resigning myself to that.
tim is picking out the new mattress that my parents bought us for our anniversary.
we may end up with a grown-up bedroom after all.
i've had beautiful block-printed pillowcases put away
and now perhaps,
our room will be worthy of them.
although it has not become less crowded since the pup came.
abby and emma are ganging up on the local chipmunks lately,
and it just started to rain.
the asphalt of our driveway smells warm and dusty from the rain,
and it makes me remember being young.
being young and coming out of the pool and shivering
and stretching out toes to fingertips on the hot pavement around the deep end,
moving over in foot-wide increments as each spot underneath me cooled off.
i made my annual pair of shorts today,
out of jeans i don't wear anymore.
my legs are bruised and pasty and my knees are knobby.
but i wore the shorts, anyway.
charlie sleeps at my feet
and doesn't seem to mind the mowers as much as i.
or the rain,
or much of anything.
he ran home off lead from grove street on,
through the woods,
up to our house and around back to the porch.
he knows home.
Posted by Tara Thayer at 2:08 PM
Friday, June 1, 2012
i'm clearly off my game, here.
i suppose superman i am not,
this working thing is cutting into my...
i'm not really feeling it these days.
but here. here are the last 24 hours.
and now. now i'm listening to my favorite movie
and anna humming while she draws, next to me,
and tim laughing,
i'm just saying hi.
and again soon.