A Girl and Her Boy

It's been a good day for mother-son bonding.

Not too long after getting up and dressed, Neeps "did yoga" with me (this consists of him stretching up in his best approximation of mountain pose, and then spending a lot of time lying underneath me and giggling as I go through the other poses).  Then, after breakfast, he helped me with the dishes (by closing the dishwasher for me) and the laundry (by tossing one shirt into the washer, shutting the door, pushing the detergent tray shut, and giving me a solid assist on holding down the "start" button).  After all of that, we got bundled up and went down to the waterfront for a little walk.

I knew we only had about an hour until the rain hit, so to start things off I strapped him into the stroller and we did a very brisk ten minutes over the land bridge and back.  Of course, during this very brisk ten minutes the rain was like "Ha hah have a little preview of what's to come!"  But it was okay because Neeps was wrapped in his Very Specific Waterproof Stroller Blanket, and I was wearing my newly-upgraded rain jacket.  Anyway, we got back to the car and I released him, stashed the stroller, and (since the rain had ended its helpful preview) let him lead for a while.

He did really great- walked a lot further and faster than I'd have expected, which warms my heart because one of these days he's going to be such an awesome hiking companion.  As it was he only had a few wipe outs, and only one bad enough that it needed Mommy-snuggles to get going again.  We looked at dead leaves and the river and rocks, and pointed out all sorts of people (who were all quite happy to wave and say hello) until I decided it was time to get him warmed up and fed.  So back to the car we went, and on the drive home we decided it would be nice to bring Daddy (who was stuck working) a specialty-coffee-beverage, so we swung by our favorite coffee stand and chatted with the nice baristas.

Once home we played, and then did a video chat with the grandparents, followed by a nutritious lunch that made me feel like a good mom, for a change (nary a Cheerio in sight).  And then?  Story-and-nap time.  And to show my solidarity, I took a nap, too.

Jerk Brain VS The Unicorn Blessing

I've been having some issues lately with Jerk Brain.  Which is to say, Jerk Brain has been saying stupid things like,

-I am fat
-I am slovenly
-I am lazy
-I am greedy
-Everything is terrible
-Let's just not leave bed ever okay?

So the past few days have been a long slog of actively ignoring Jerk Brain, and forcing myself to do Normal Things, like get up and do yoga and go to work and, oh, I don't know, eat.  But I've been managing, and yesterday I sent out a plea to various loved ones to send me pictures of unicorns to cheer me up.  I specified that stick-figure squiggles were 100% acceptable.

It worked ridiculously well.  And now I'm going to share those unicorns with you, in case you also need cheering up.

Fierce

The first one I got back was, appropriately enough, from my husband.  I married him for his drawing skills, so obviously I have a high bar for his sketches, and he definitely came through with some technical greatness.  Not to mention spousal greatness for actually responding so quickly.  Plus look at how that unicorn is tossing it's head, as though it's slicing open the belly of Depression.

Pink Power

The second one back was this gem, which I thought was deliciously 90s, and also pretty fierce.  This pinky-purple unicorn is glowing with the ability to trample Jerk Brain into the ground.

Annotated

This one is actually my favorite- I loved that my friend was sitting, waiting for his appointment, but he heard my cry for attention and grabbed the nearest thing at hand to satisfy it.  Also, as a fan of words + pictures, this gets bonus points for utilizing both.  That uniorn beast and that magician are going to magic Depression back to the dark ages.

Sparkly!

The artist of this fine specimen informed me that he is "fertilizing the world with happiness!" which seemed like exactly what I needed.  Not to mention I can just see this unicorn crapping happiness all over Depression until it drowns in it.  Because Depression can't swim, which is why it can't follow me into the ocean.

RAINBOW

The final unicorn came in the evening, lighting up my after-work-hours with a neon rainbow and a certain Psychotic Glee in her blue eyes that will surely be the last thing stupid Depression sees as her multi-color horn pierces its skull.

My little blessing of unicorns was just freaking miraculous.  It made me so happy that my friends cared enough to indulge me in my random demands for comfort, especially since most of my friends don't consider themselves artists.  They did something they're not comfortable doing, just to help me out.  Now that's freaking magical.

Personal Plan 2017

I just finished up my rewrites on The Oathbreaker, which strikes me as an excellent time to make good on my vague promise to share part of my so-called Personal Plan for 2017 (as opposed to the Business Plan I wrote for the office- it's not business, it's pleasure!  Hah!).  After all, I've already achieved one of my strategies for a major objective!  Woo!

Vision Statement:  I will be a happy, healthy person who feels good about her accomplishments in life.

Objective:  Have a happy and healthy family unit
    -Strategy:  Make it a point to have a date with Nathan at least once a month
    -Strategy:  Do at least one family-hike per month
    -Strategy:  Get out camping at least three times this spring/summer/autumn


Objective:  Feel good physically
    -Strategy:  Do yoga at least 3x a week starting 1/1, upping it to at least 4x a week by 3/1
    -Strategy:  Ride my bike to work more often- at least 3x week during nice weather
    -Strategy:  Create clean meal plans with Nathan


Objective: Become a published fiction writer
    -Strategy:  Finish re-writing "The Oathbreaker" by 01/31
    -Strategy:  Submit a collection of short-stories to at least one literary agent by my birthday
    -Strategy:  Write at least one new novella-length (or longer) story by 06/30


That isn't all of it, but it is the most pertinent parts.  I've already made a good start to it, what with doing yoga four times this week (eight I guess if you count morning and night) and riding my bike to work four times (in spite of the face-flaying cold- sheesh).  And Nathan and I had a lunch-date yesterday, which totally counts.  We may not have refrained from talking about Neeps the entire time, but we did keep our phones put away, which is pretty huge.

And now?  Now I start rewrites on my original Princess and the Pea retelling, because I think it will pair nicely with Oathbreaker in a short-story collection.

On a Random Wednesday in January, I Miss You Terribly

I'm walking down the street, in the bitter bitter cold, and I'm talking to my mom on the phone, and she's probably having a hard time understanding me, because my voice is breaking as I'm speaking and I'm trying so hard to keep from crying and failing utterly and I don't know how coherent I'm being, anyway.

"I'm so pissed that I'm so... so pathetically desperate for stories of my father that I'm willing to ignore that part of my brain trying to warn me that something might not be right in this situation.  And part of the pain and frustration comes from... it's just... I do deeply appreciate my friends who want to be there for me, when I'm missing him, but what I really want, what's really contributing to this sadness, is my craving for people who knew him.  It's just- I only have so many memories of him, and I don't get to make any more.  So sometimes... sometimes I just want to supplement with other people's memories."






(Never stop telling stories of people you once knew.  In the end, that's all we have.)

That's a Wrap

One year ago we were in this exact place- well, except I was on the other side of the room, but still.

It's been a good day- we took a trip down to Finnriver Cidery, where we bundled Neeps within an inch of his life and wandered around in the cold and the mud while clutching our ciders and glaring at garrulous geese. And then we sensibly got ourselves into the heated tent and ate some delicious brauts, and drank still more cider. And brandy. And then there was a giant fish?

Now the boychild is asleep, and we're debating if we should celebrate Eastern New Year or Central New Year, but either way we're pretty sure we're NOT going to make it to Pacific New Year, because we are old and there is a lot of delicious mead and brandy to be drunk.

Here's to a brighter 2017!

Anticipation

The year is winding down, and we are packing up to return to where we were when it first unfurled: Chris and Lara's house.  I'm looking forward to a long weekend of sipping drinks by the fire and watching chickens and frolicking in the snow with my now-one-year-old.  My what a difference twelve months make!

I have to admit- I'm also looking forward to being done with this 366 Project.  It will be nice not to feel the pressure to Produce for Public Consumption all the time- I'll finally get the chance to dive deep into rewrites on Oathbreaker, and start splashing around For Serious in a few other projects I've only just barely sketched out in my brain.

One of the things I've been working on lately is the 2017 Business Plan for my office- and today I got inspired to make a 2017 Personal plan, complete with a vision statement, goals, objectives, and strategies.  I'm pretty pleased with it so far, and I might get around to sharing at least some of it here on the blog, but the most pertinent piece of it is my commitment to submit my work to at least one literary agent no later than my birthday.  I'm typing it out loud here on the blog and everything, so feel free to hold me accountable come the end of March.

And now?  Back to packing!

Heritage

I've been letting Allerleirauh compost in my brain for a while, trying to figure out how best to retell it.  I've finally come up with a pretty satisfying twist, which gave me what I needed to finally name my heroine.

***

Once upon a time, my mother was the most beautiful woman in the world.

I would know this to be true even if my father hadn’t told me, because her portrait hangs in our great hall.  It is the largest of the three portraits that hang there: there is also a miniature, small enough to hold in one hand, and another painting that is half my height.  The women in those paintings look exactly like my mother, but they are not her, for they were painted before she was born, just as her portrait, taller than my father, was painted before I was born.

My mother’s name was Phaidra, and when she died giving birth to me, my father decided it was only right I have it in remembrance of her.