Tuesday, March 29th 2005 Verena
Tuesday is my gym day, so I have to rush Luis, Joni and Tinu even more than usual. It’s spring, 8 degree Celsius, “flirting with the double digits” the radio announcer jokes. Still, both Joni and Tinu have to bring snow pants, hats and mittens, otherwise they can’t play outside. Joni remembers. He is such a conscientious student. Before he left he worked on copying his Pokemon cards (“Griggle”), every single word on it.
Tinu lets me go without a fuss at Narnia, I only have to promise I’ll be back right after sleep. I park right next to the ice rink and walk through Westmount Park to the YMCA. The path is a river, 2 inch deep. The big thaw is on! There is plenty of material left for the sun to gnaw on.
All the 8 pound weights are gone, and everyone is already into the grapevines when I get to the YMCA. I like the teacher. She exudes this body focus that I’ll always only aspire to from a distance. Blue bandanna around her part blond, part brown, part undefined colored hair, tight light-blue tank top, tight black gym pants. Wide grin, wide swing in her hips. We move fast from exercise to exercise, working through every part of the body. She keeps us pushing ourselves with her smooth dark voice. The clock in the gym isn’t working, which in this class I don’t mind. Usually I get bored in the gym and I need to know how many more minutes. The Friday step class in Palo Alto was the other exception.
I chat a bit with Susanne afterwards, about egg hunting indoors (her) and in the snow (us), husband’s relationships to bosses and hair appointments. It is still extraordinary for me to have these ordinary everyday interactions here, so I push back my impulse to hurry on.
Then I run off to shop. “Aubut” is my new Costco, it is on St. Ambroise, just one street up from the canal, in the middle of a half industrial, half apartment complex area, just across the street from a huge brickstone building called ‘Chateau St. Ambroise”. Is that an old brewery or new apartments? One more part of town I feel like I want to come with a camera. I have hardly taken any pictures since last summer, although I see so much. The interesting patterns of white salt, wet dark rivers and remnants of snow on the streets. The flowers in the old glasshouse next to Westmount Park Library, a celebration of colors. The view from the top of Victoria, the silver sliver of the St. Lawrence in the distance.
By the time the groceries are inside and sorted out, the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher, and some laundry picked up, it’s 12:30 and I’m starving. Baguette, Muensterkaese, honey dew and grapefruit juice, the Sunday New York Times and sunshine on the table. A moment to savour, and I do. I skim through articles on Terri Schiavo and the pope, both on the edge of life. “Death requires decision”, that sentence sticks. The blessings of self-determination are turning into a curse, we have to many choices that nature did never mean for us to be able to have to make. Boy or girl? Parent at 50? ventilator or no ventilator? ‘Right-to-life” has replaced “pro-life”, what humbug, what hypocrisy in both terms. Nothing republican in the Republican Party, so much denial of the right to live, the right to live decently, with dignity, in the’right-to-live” faction. Is it time to become militantly anti-faith, now that we are moving from faith based politics to faith-based science? Sam Harris is my new hero.
A quick shower, then Roslyn. Debbie, the secretary shows me were to put the popsicles for the bake sale on Thursday. She is so sweet now, that we are part of the school, and was so terribly unhelpful when we first came here. had she volunteered a bit more information, Joni could have started school with everybody else and we woud have saved 300 dollars. My bookclub is with the “Thieflords” today, classmates of Luis, boys only. Mayank still hasn’t read the book, I tell him he should quit, it’s not worth while. He hesitates, but then leaves. Michael can’t decide, he read the book, but didn’t like it. He has a very quick mind, an even faster tongue, no lack of self-confidence, and a hopelessly deep ingrained “I don’t care”-attitude to school. I tell him no big deal, participation in the bookclub is a treat, not an obligation. What a luxury to work with kids like this, on a voluntary basis. A 5th grader joins us, he overheard our conversation and was intrigued, because he liked the book. I’m surprised that none of the kids would ride on the magic merry-go-round that makes you younger when you sit on a dophin or swan and older when you sit on a horse or lion. They all want to be exactly as old as they are. The idea of staying young forever, even living forever, is discussed in technical terms: would you still know what you already know or start over? what if you don’t get off in time, what if you end up before your birth? Mark wants to do the “random writing”. He, who was so arrogant at first and only made fun of the rules! They explain the rules to Daniel, the 5th grader. The focus is good during the writing time, Mark and Ashkan aren’t quite done when its over, and they all want to read right away. What a change from the first few times! With the merry-go-round topic I get a lot of automatic rifles and action-movie inspired second thoughts. I have to find a topic that is closer to home for next time.
Tinu is riding a tricyle through the gym when I pick him up. When he sees me, he comes running, screaming “ Mammi, I can do a circle”. it isn’t always like that. Lately he was often crying when I dropped him and grumpy when I came to pick him up. He shows me their new light table. We have the yellow room to ourselves, as all the other kids are in the gym, and he enjoys that. Having space to himself, and my time, that is a treat for him. We play with the colors, lay out flowers and mix colors with little tennis racket shaped plates. Yellow and blue makes? Pink and yellow? Even though he mostly knows, he finds it totally exciting.
The boys and I have snack on the balcony in front of Luis’room. It is the perfect outlook for him, eventually every brand and make of car will drive by. Today he spots a new Mercedes and an interesting Jeep. Ryan calls about soccer, when he comes, Luis isn’t ready and can’t find his shoes. He wants to play in jeans and winter boots, I say no. We compromise on sweat pants and boots, and he promises to look for them at Greene Center. His watch turned up again, so maybe we’re lucky!
Cora calls she’ll go babysitting right from Stage Crew, so it is just Tinu, Joni, Matthias and I at the dinner table. We feel like a really small family, it continues to be a miracle to me what a difference just one less person makes.
When Luis comes home, he doesn’t want to eat, looks sad. While I listen to Matthias talking about his day, I see Luis playing around with his report card. Jonis is great, his isn’t: “inconsistent efforts”, ‘too easy to distract”, “doesn’t put forth his best effort”. Luis cries a little, says everything is so boring, school isn’t fun at all here. While the kids brush their teeth, Matthias and I have a little argument about that. I feel he needs to straighten up, sit straight, eat properly, do his homework on time, get up faster, practice his French. Matthias thinks nagging won’t help, he is not happy here, and we should be supportive. Both is vital for Luis, support and discipline. We’re not providing much of either at the moment, our conversation soon drifts off to that big ugly topic, getting Matthias and Cora into the US on Thursday. A couple of calls from Bake Sale parents, reading to Tinu, singing the songs are just a blur in between pondering our options for that. How ridiculous! They aren’t doing anything illegal, Cora is only lacking one piece of paper. The US is a country at war, protecting its borders. Its not fun, we agree we have to stop speculating about everything that coulld go right or wrong at any given stage. I’ll try to nail down the lawyer one more time tomorrow and than leave it at that.
Was that my day? Nothing flowing through it, no distinct flavour, tied down in the minutiae of running our lives?
Tinu lets me go without a fuss at Narnia, I only have to promise I’ll be back right after sleep. I park right next to the ice rink and walk through Westmount Park to the YMCA. The path is a river, 2 inch deep. The big thaw is on! There is plenty of material left for the sun to gnaw on.
All the 8 pound weights are gone, and everyone is already into the grapevines when I get to the YMCA. I like the teacher. She exudes this body focus that I’ll always only aspire to from a distance. Blue bandanna around her part blond, part brown, part undefined colored hair, tight light-blue tank top, tight black gym pants. Wide grin, wide swing in her hips. We move fast from exercise to exercise, working through every part of the body. She keeps us pushing ourselves with her smooth dark voice. The clock in the gym isn’t working, which in this class I don’t mind. Usually I get bored in the gym and I need to know how many more minutes. The Friday step class in Palo Alto was the other exception.
I chat a bit with Susanne afterwards, about egg hunting indoors (her) and in the snow (us), husband’s relationships to bosses and hair appointments. It is still extraordinary for me to have these ordinary everyday interactions here, so I push back my impulse to hurry on.
Then I run off to shop. “Aubut” is my new Costco, it is on St. Ambroise, just one street up from the canal, in the middle of a half industrial, half apartment complex area, just across the street from a huge brickstone building called ‘Chateau St. Ambroise”. Is that an old brewery or new apartments? One more part of town I feel like I want to come with a camera. I have hardly taken any pictures since last summer, although I see so much. The interesting patterns of white salt, wet dark rivers and remnants of snow on the streets. The flowers in the old glasshouse next to Westmount Park Library, a celebration of colors. The view from the top of Victoria, the silver sliver of the St. Lawrence in the distance.
By the time the groceries are inside and sorted out, the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher, and some laundry picked up, it’s 12:30 and I’m starving. Baguette, Muensterkaese, honey dew and grapefruit juice, the Sunday New York Times and sunshine on the table. A moment to savour, and I do. I skim through articles on Terri Schiavo and the pope, both on the edge of life. “Death requires decision”, that sentence sticks. The blessings of self-determination are turning into a curse, we have to many choices that nature did never mean for us to be able to have to make. Boy or girl? Parent at 50? ventilator or no ventilator? ‘Right-to-life” has replaced “pro-life”, what humbug, what hypocrisy in both terms. Nothing republican in the Republican Party, so much denial of the right to live, the right to live decently, with dignity, in the’right-to-live” faction. Is it time to become militantly anti-faith, now that we are moving from faith based politics to faith-based science? Sam Harris is my new hero.
A quick shower, then Roslyn. Debbie, the secretary shows me were to put the popsicles for the bake sale on Thursday. She is so sweet now, that we are part of the school, and was so terribly unhelpful when we first came here. had she volunteered a bit more information, Joni could have started school with everybody else and we woud have saved 300 dollars. My bookclub is with the “Thieflords” today, classmates of Luis, boys only. Mayank still hasn’t read the book, I tell him he should quit, it’s not worth while. He hesitates, but then leaves. Michael can’t decide, he read the book, but didn’t like it. He has a very quick mind, an even faster tongue, no lack of self-confidence, and a hopelessly deep ingrained “I don’t care”-attitude to school. I tell him no big deal, participation in the bookclub is a treat, not an obligation. What a luxury to work with kids like this, on a voluntary basis. A 5th grader joins us, he overheard our conversation and was intrigued, because he liked the book. I’m surprised that none of the kids would ride on the magic merry-go-round that makes you younger when you sit on a dophin or swan and older when you sit on a horse or lion. They all want to be exactly as old as they are. The idea of staying young forever, even living forever, is discussed in technical terms: would you still know what you already know or start over? what if you don’t get off in time, what if you end up before your birth? Mark wants to do the “random writing”. He, who was so arrogant at first and only made fun of the rules! They explain the rules to Daniel, the 5th grader. The focus is good during the writing time, Mark and Ashkan aren’t quite done when its over, and they all want to read right away. What a change from the first few times! With the merry-go-round topic I get a lot of automatic rifles and action-movie inspired second thoughts. I have to find a topic that is closer to home for next time.
Tinu is riding a tricyle through the gym when I pick him up. When he sees me, he comes running, screaming “ Mammi, I can do a circle”. it isn’t always like that. Lately he was often crying when I dropped him and grumpy when I came to pick him up. He shows me their new light table. We have the yellow room to ourselves, as all the other kids are in the gym, and he enjoys that. Having space to himself, and my time, that is a treat for him. We play with the colors, lay out flowers and mix colors with little tennis racket shaped plates. Yellow and blue makes? Pink and yellow? Even though he mostly knows, he finds it totally exciting.
The boys and I have snack on the balcony in front of Luis’room. It is the perfect outlook for him, eventually every brand and make of car will drive by. Today he spots a new Mercedes and an interesting Jeep. Ryan calls about soccer, when he comes, Luis isn’t ready and can’t find his shoes. He wants to play in jeans and winter boots, I say no. We compromise on sweat pants and boots, and he promises to look for them at Greene Center. His watch turned up again, so maybe we’re lucky!
Cora calls she’ll go babysitting right from Stage Crew, so it is just Tinu, Joni, Matthias and I at the dinner table. We feel like a really small family, it continues to be a miracle to me what a difference just one less person makes.
When Luis comes home, he doesn’t want to eat, looks sad. While I listen to Matthias talking about his day, I see Luis playing around with his report card. Jonis is great, his isn’t: “inconsistent efforts”, ‘too easy to distract”, “doesn’t put forth his best effort”. Luis cries a little, says everything is so boring, school isn’t fun at all here. While the kids brush their teeth, Matthias and I have a little argument about that. I feel he needs to straighten up, sit straight, eat properly, do his homework on time, get up faster, practice his French. Matthias thinks nagging won’t help, he is not happy here, and we should be supportive. Both is vital for Luis, support and discipline. We’re not providing much of either at the moment, our conversation soon drifts off to that big ugly topic, getting Matthias and Cora into the US on Thursday. A couple of calls from Bake Sale parents, reading to Tinu, singing the songs are just a blur in between pondering our options for that. How ridiculous! They aren’t doing anything illegal, Cora is only lacking one piece of paper. The US is a country at war, protecting its borders. Its not fun, we agree we have to stop speculating about everything that coulld go right or wrong at any given stage. I’ll try to nail down the lawyer one more time tomorrow and than leave it at that.
Was that my day? Nothing flowing through it, no distinct flavour, tied down in the minutiae of running our lives?
posted by Captain Cook at 9:43 AM
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