Jiaozi

Perfectly ordinary

Sunday afternoon I paused and looked around the kitchen, where the whole family was gathered.

Bess and Big A were at the round table working on Bess's social studies project, a poster-sized chronology of the American Revolution. They were discussing typefaces and burning holes in the tea-stained paper to make it look antique. (When Big A helps with projects, the result is a museum-quality exhibit.)

I had made a batch of flour-and-salt clay so that May could do her social studies project, a replica of the Rosetta Stone. She was standing at the kitchen counter kneading the clay, experimenting with food colors, and trying to inscribe a slab with hieroglyphics using a manicure stick. Ella had a chunk of clay and was standing on a stool next to May making fossils. I was making dinner and putting garlic bread on the same baking pan we were using to bake the clay objects.

Everyone was absorbed in some activity. The TV was off and the radio was on. The dog lay on the floor hoping someone would drop something edible (in her mind, flour-and-salt clay qualified).

I smiled and thought to myself -- this is what family life is about. This is how I'd hoped we could be as a family. We weren't on a tropical beach or riding a roller coaster. Nobody was giddy with delight. Doing homework projects probably wouldn't have been anyone's first choice for a Sunday afternoon activity. And yet we were all content, enjoying one another's company, working together toward common goals. It was a perfect moment, in its own way, and I will probably remember it longer than I remember what we gave one another for Christmas or where we went on our last vacation.

It's these ordinary, everyday moments that make up the fabric of our lives. I hope someday the children remember how we were as a family and smile.

A good day

Wasn't Inauguration Day grand? I thought the proceedings hit all the right notes.

We had the TV on and the kids watched as much of the events as they could before school. When I told Ella it was time to go, she said, "Aw, Mom, I don't want to stop watching. I've never seen anything like this!" Well, none of us has ever seen anything like this. I am glad that the first historic event my children are likely to remember was this one.

I DVRd the rest of the inauguration, but it turned out that all the kids got to watch in their classrooms at school. And later in the afternoon, they had their Martin Luther King Jr. Day assembly and sang "We Shall Overcome." It was a good day.

Wii are the champions (not)

Santa brought the family a Wii console for Christmas in lieu of individual gifts. The Wii allows for up to four players at a time, and we have four remotes. But there are five people in the family. I am the odd man out, by choice, because (1) I don't have that much free time, (2) I am lousy at all games and sports, and (3) I am highly competitive and hate to lose and therefore avoid activities in which loss is a certainty. (The last point tends to be self-perpetuating, since it means I never get practice at games and sports and thus never have a chance to improve.) (Also (4) my husband is also highly competitive and good at all games and sports. In other words, no fun to play Wii with.)

(Side note: It cracks me up when the kids say they want to "play on Wii," because it sounds like they want to "play ennui." Which I would be pretty good at if there were such a thing.)

Anyway, Ella and I were the only ones home last night, and she wanted to play the Wii, so we did. Now I'm her favorite Wii partner because, of course, I completely suck. Everyone in the family has several years of experience playing computer and video games, and I have none, unless you count computer Solitaire and Mah Jongg, which I suck at even with practice. I don't have a very good sense for how the controls work. I'm overwhelmed by mutiple tasks.  Plus I'm just an innately poor game player because I have no ability to look ahead and strategize.

This is great in Ella's eyes, because I'm the only family member she can beat. She was having so much fun playing me she could hardly stand it. The only games I can play passably are bowling and golf, which are also the only games I can play well in real life. I think this is because they involve simple tasks and few distractions. But tennis and baseball I suck at. And Mario Kart (a racing game) I especially suck at. I'm a pretty good driver, but I cannot translate real driving skills into a game. I don't get the same sensory feedback or response to my actions. And there's too much going on. I'm not able to turn the steering wheel, press the accelerator button, watch where I'm going, keep an eye on packages I've picked up, press the package-release button, and watch out for competitors all at the same time. I died a thousand deaths in the lava pits of Bowser Castle. I came in last in race after race.

After we were finished playing, Ella said, "Mom, I totally want to play you in tennis again. But not Mario Kart. It kind of makes me sad, because you drive like an old lady."

She's only in third grade and already she's taking away my car keys.

For Patrick McGoohan

Be seeing you.

State of the blog

So. The blog. A few times over the break my hand hovered over the "delete" button. I was ready to turn out the lights. I started this blog for writing practice, and I've certainly gotten that, but during the time I've been blogging I haven't submitted a single essay for publication. Feature articles, yes, but no creative nonfiction. Is the blog distracting me from publishing in other media? I don't know. It certainly eats up time, but there's no reason I couldn't repurpose some blog posts, if I thought I had any that were good enough, which I don't.

It's not as if I can't think of things to say -- I must have a dozen posts floating around in my head -- but something has been stopping me from recording them. Sometimes it seems like more trouble than it's worth to do the typing and editing. I've had blogger's block.

I thought about going password protected, on the theory that perhaps being public was keeping me from saying things I wanted to say, but I'm not sure what that would accomplish. Writing ought to be read; otherwise you can just keep a diary. But how many readers does it take to make a writer? (I don't know which I fear more: having lots of readers or having no readers. It would terrify me to have the kind of readership the most popular bloggers have, but it makes my heart sink when no one comments.)

I thought about dropping the ads, thinking maybe they were cramping my style. I can live without the $11 a year they make me. And it's odd to host something on my own site that is outside my control. But maybe that's just an excuse.

I was puzzling over this when I read about Slow Blogging. This approach really resonates with me. As the New York Times article mentions, sites like Facebook and Twitter have filled the need for a quick, easy way to update friends and acquaintances on the ephemera of daily life, rendering the journal-type blog superfluous. I like the idea of carefully crafted, less frequent posts. But, realistically, would readers remember to visit a blog where posts come only weekly? Monthly? I think I would. Some of the finest nonfiction writers I've ever read have been bloggers. Many no longer blog, and I miss them as I would miss a favorite columnist who has retired. I would gladly have chosen to read them monthly instead of losing them altogether. But "out of sight, out of mind" is also human nature. Infrequent posters run the risk of dropping off blogrolls.

I'm still pondering, and I haven't made any decisions. But I can tell you which way I'm leaning. I'm thinking about expanding and specializing. I would make this blog, Jiaozi, my parenting and adoption blog. I'd open a couple of new blogs for other topics -- say, Life Itself and Writing. I know, it's counterintuitive -- I'm tired of blogging, so why not open some new blogs? I'm operating on a hunch that compartmentalizing would help me focus and be able to address different audiences more effectively.

Feel free to share your opinions. What's the state of your blog?

Re-entry

I'm still here. Pondering, as Ella would say.

The holiday break was unusual. We had snow before Christmas, which almost never happens here. The last three days of school before the break were canceled. We couldn't get out of the house for days. Christmas gatherings were put on hold. This was disappointing, but at the same time it forced us to spend time together as a family. There was no running around to get last-minute gifts. What we had is what we got. Thankfully, Santa brought us a Wii with four controllers, and that kept everyone busy. (I played the important role of audience.) I actually got to sit and watch my favorite Christmas movies. I made three kinds of cookies in one afternoon and took them around to the neighbors. I neither blogged nor worked.

Now we're easing back into our normal schedule. I have to say that it was really nice not having to drive kids to soccer, gymnastics, dance, etc., for a couple of weeks. But they missed their activities. Monday was the first day of school for the new year and I almost saw my life flash before my eyes when it started to snow heavily Sunday night. We got away with a late start. Whew.

I had time over the break to reflect on how our family has changed. Bess and May aren't little kids anymore. They're all about clothing and makeup and music and friends. Abbey has an apartment and needs to get a part-time job (having failed to live within her means while attending college) and will likely not be coming home very often. Ella is still my baby, the only child who asked for toys for Christmas, but she needs a lot of help with school. Big A can see the light at the end of the tunnel that retirement should represent, if we can afford it. To help repair the damage the sinking economy has done to us, I'm now working enough hours that I no longer qualify as a SAHM and can legitimately refer to myself as a WAHM. I was approaching burnout levels of exhaustion before the holidays and appreciated the chance to truly relax (no multitasking allowed), but I need to do something to make sure I don't reach that state again.

Which brings me to the blog. Which I was going to discuss here, but then the post got too long. So consider this part one -- I'll post part two a bit later.