The ultimate mother...
Be my mother, I said to the trees, in the language of trees, which can’t be transcribed, and they shook their hair back, and they bent low with their many arms, and they looked into my eyes as only trees can look into the eyes of a person, they touched me with the rain on their fingers till I was all droplets, till I was a mist, and they said they would. (Emily Berry, Canopy: Stranger, Baby)
Gather all the little children
May Day blessings to all – A little May Day poem by Athey Thompson
With May flowers in their hair
For they shall dance
Around the maypole
For they shall dance
The day away
For me, the month of May is the BEST not only because of Mother’s Day but it’s also my birthday month.
Last year Mother’s Day and my birthday fell on the same day. It’s an extra special treat for my two favorite days to be combined into one celebration.
The best known modern May Day traditions include dancing around the maypole and crowning the May Queen. Fading in popularity is the tradition of giving of “May baskets”, small baskets of candy or flowers. I think we should revive that adorable custom, don’t you?
Just in time for May Day, I found an adorable porcelain flower basket at Goodwill for about three dollars and I HAD to bring it home with me.
So far, this month started off in an ah-MAY-zing way.
Since it wasn’t a great video, I won’t post it, but THREE coyotes came to visit last night– THREE! — all together, and early this morning at first light, another coyote visit was captured on my wildlife camera. That’s NEVER happened before and I am soso excited.
The weather is warming up; all the fruit trees are flowering, the roses and ceanothus and lavender are in bloom, and baby birds are hatching.
Beltane, which takes also takes place on May 1st, is a celebration of the abundance of Earth and the forces of Nature. Bonfires are traditionally set to engender a sense of connection with ourselves and all living beings, but that wouldn’t be a smart thing to do in our wildfire ravaged state, so the flame from a safe candle must suffice.
Happy May Day and Happy Beltane!
My son spent his junior year abroad at the University of Göttingen but never knew about some of its important historical connections.
Randomly, I found out about an interesting educator, Emmy Noether, from the early 1900s.
“What will our soldiers think when they return to the university and find that they are required to learn at the feet of a woman?”
That was the response of more than one (male) faculty member at the idea of Emmy Noether joining the University of Göttingen to teach mathematics in 1915.
Instead of receiving the title she deserved, Emmy spent years teaching courses, often under the name of a male faculty member.
The official hierarchy dictated that it was HIS course and she was an assistant. More egregiously, she wasn’t paid for her work; she relied on the support of her family to survive.
In 1919 she was permitted to officially teach and began receiving a small salary in 1922.
As a teacher, Emmy was known to speak loud and fast, for being generous and thoughtful, and genuinely cared about her students.
In addition to being an excellent teacher, she also made numerous significant contributions to research in mathematics and physics.
The other interesting fact about Göttingen is something I wasn’t aware of until I watched the Academy Award winning film Oppenheimer.
In 1926, the physicist J. Robert Oppenheimer left Cambridge for the University of Göttingen to study under Max Born. Göttingen was one of the world’s leading centers for theoretical physics. (I didn’t know that fact, either!)
World War II interrupted the work and lives of most American physicists. In 1942, Oppenheimer was appointed to the Manhattan Project, code name for the project formed to develop an atomic bomb.
My son attended UofG to further his advanced degrees in Germanic languages and literatures, not the world of science.
Because I am THAT KIND OF MOM, I visited him while he was in Germany and spent a week there. I actually stayed in a visitors room in his dorm. This structure was built sometime during the cold war era, at least I think it was, because it was DISMAL and gray and cold and unwelcoming and the bathrooms were hardly luxurious – but it was fun to see the original Angel Boy in action and meet his classmates and friends.
Best of all, I got to be the obnoxiously proud mom as we did a lot of sight seeing and he was able to use his fluent German language skills all over the country.
Except for (and because of) the snowy blizzard debacle, it was a memorable Germany adventure.
A big thank you to Herr Professor Angel Boy for helping me properly translate my words.
Ein großes Dankeschön an Herrn Professor Angel Boy, der mir geholfen hat, meine Worte richtig zu übersetzen.
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Mein Sohn verbrachte sein erstes Studienjahr im Ausland an der Universität Göttingen, wusste aber nichts über einige der wichtigen historischen Zusammenhänge.
Zufällig erfuhr ich von einer interessanten Pädagogin, Emmy Noether, aus dem frühen 20. Jahrhundert.
„Was werden unsere Soldaten denken, wenn sie an die Universität zurückkehren und feststellen, dass sie zu Füßen einer Frau lernen müssen?“
Das war die Reaktion mehrerer (männlicher) Fakultätsmitglieder auf die Idee, dass Emmy Noether 1915 an die Universität Göttingen kam, um dort Mathematik zu lehren.
Anstatt den Titel zu erhalten, den sie verdiente, unterrichtete Emmy jahrelang Kurse, oft unter dem Namen eines männlichen Fakultätsmitglieds.
Die offizielle Hierarchie schrieb vor, dass es SEIN Kurs war und sie eine Assistentin war. Noch schlimmer war, dass sie für ihre Arbeit nicht bezahlt wurde; Sie war auf die Unterstützung ihrer Familie angewiesen, um zu überleben.
1919 erhielt sie offiziell die Erlaubnis zu unterrichten und ab 1922 erhielt sie ein kleines Gehalt.
Als Lehrerin war Emmy dafür bekannt, laut und schnell zu sprechen, großzügig und rücksichtsvoll zu sein und sich aufrichtig um ihre Schüler zu kümmern.
Sie war nicht nur eine hervorragende Lehrerin, sondern leistete auch zahlreiche bedeutende Beiträge zur Forschung in Mathematik und Physik.
Die andere interessante Tatsache über Göttingen war mir erst bewusst, als ich den Oscar-prämierten Film Oppenheimer sah.
1926 verließ der Physiker J. Robert Oppenheimer Cambridge und ging an die Universität Göttingen, um bei Max Born zu studieren. Göttingen war eines der weltweit führenden Zentren für theoretische Physik. (Das wusste ich auch nicht!)
Der Zweite Weltkrieg unterbrach die Arbeit und das Leben der meisten amerikanischen Physiker. Im Jahr 1942 wurde Oppenheimer in das Manhattan-Projekt berufen, Codename für das Projekt zur Entwicklung einer Atombombe.
Mein Sohn besuchte die UofG, um seine weiterführenden Abschlüsse in Germanistik zu machen, nicht in der Welt der Naturwissenschaften.
Weil ich so eine Art Mutter bin, habe ich ihn besucht, als er in Deutschland war, und eine Woche dort verbracht. Ich wohnte tatsächlich in einem Besucherzimmer in seinem Wohnheim. Dieses Gebäude wurde irgendwann in der Zeit des Kalten Krieges erbaut, zumindest glaube ich, dass es so war, weil es trostlos und grau und kalt und abweisend war und die Badezimmer kaum luxuriös waren – aber es hat Spaß gemacht, seine Freunde zu treffen und den ursprünglichen Angel Boy in Aktion zu sehen.
Das Beste von allem war, dass ich die unglaublich stolze Mutter sein durfte, da wir viel Sightseeing machten und er seine fließenden Deutschkenntnisse im ganzen Land anwenden konnte.
Abgesehen (und wegen) des Schneesturm-Debakels war es ein unvergessliches Deutschland-Abenteuer.
Wishing a very happy International Woman’s Day to all strong, intelligent, talented, and simply wonderful women of this world!
Today is International Women’s Day, but really, EVERY DAY should be a day to celebrate women, to encourage a world where difference is valued and celebrated with all the ways we can forge women’s equality.
IWD began in New York City on March 8, 1857 when female textile workers marched in protest of unfair working conditions and unequal rights for women. It was one of the first organized strikes by working women, during which they called for a shorter work day and decent wages.
For me, even more important than a single day set aside to commemorate women, March 8 is the day to rejoice in the birth of Angel Boy 2.0 on his eighth solar return.
I don’t know how it happened, but that child I love with all my heart is eight years old today! How is that even possible?
I still think of him as he was learning to walk…
and now running as fast as he can.
He’s an awesome soccer player; obsessed with Minecraft, (no longer Ninjago or even Pokemon), so his presents reflected that: a giant Minecraft Lego set, Minecraft underwear, a Minecraft joke book, and as many Minecraft t-shirts as I could find, all wrapped up in a Minecraft bag with a musical Minecraft birthday card. He doesn’t have any Minecraft video games, I’m happy to report.
Happy eight years around the sun, AB 2.0!
Not too long ago, the Angel Kids’ parents went to a social function. They weren’t too happy about Mom and Dad leaving because they rarely do, but as soon as the door closed, everything was OK ‘cos Grandma was there.
The kids have a solid bedtime routine: bath, night snack, brush teeth, read, and sleep. After their baths and a bowl of yogurt and applesauce, teeth were brushed and we snuggled together for reading time, my favorite part.
We began with a book for Angel Girl about a ballerina who loves to wear sparkly tiaras. I was peppered with questions and comments, “You love to wear a tiara, don’t you, Grandma!” “I have a sparkly tiara, too.” After her book, she turned on her side, clutching her stuffed unicorn, ready to drift off to sleep.
When it was time to read to Angel Boy, Dad had kindly left me with a chapter book they were halfway through, and I planned to read to the lovely child who was curled up against me.
I wasn’t prepared for what came next…and I can genuinely say that it was one of the happiest moments of my entire life…
“Hey, Grandma, how about if I read to YOU this time instead of YOU reading to ME?”
That had NEVER happened before. He’s gifted in math, but reading was sometimes frustrating for him, totally unlike his dad, who was an early and brilliant reader. T tested at grade level in school, but it wasn’t with the joy that reading brings to our lives. I always told him that reading was the gateway to the world. In my opinion, reading is EVERYTHING.
So of course I said that would be the most wonderful idea EVER in the history of wonderful ideas.
He read four chapters of his book while I watched; eagle-eyed, to observe (scrutinize) his reading prowess as a second grader, and his ability to successfully sound out words that weren’t familiar. The best part was that he didn’t want to stop reading; he wanted to keep going, but he was so tired, he agreed to finish the book the next day.
I was absolutely blown away, not only by his skills, but the way he read with humor and expression.
“Did you like that, Grandma? I knew you would because you love reading so much.”
“T, I am so incredibly proud of you! C is too, and we both loved to hear you read. How did it make you feel to read to US?”
“Grandma, I was reading and the words were like, just in my head as I saw them, and I couldn’t believe it, they came out so fast!”
At that moment, I think I almost squeezed the very life out of him, and I was more than grateful to be able to experience his “lightbulb” moment where everything clicked into place.
“T, that is what’s called REAL READING! I told you it would happen soon, where words you see instantly translate from your eyes to your brain — and you totally GOT IT!”
“I wanted to make you happy, Grandma.”
And he did. That was an understatement!
T whispered, “I love you, Grandma.”
“I love you too, so, so much. See you in the morning for buckwheat pancakes!” I whispered back to him.
For me, this definitely qualifies as a memorable, momentous watershed event.
I feel like I’m the luckiest grandma in the whole world.
Some people might think a solitary swing is the epitome of loneliness; forlorn, swaying empty in the breeze.
Instead, I like to remember this poem by Robert Louis Stevenson and think of the joy it brings to the Angels; well, except when they’re fighting over whose turn it is to swing.
The Swing
How do you like to go up in a swing,
Up in the air so blue
Oh, I do think it the pleasantest thing
Ever a child can do!
Up in the air and over the wall,
Till I can see so wide,
Rivers and trees and cattle and all
Over the countryside
Till I look down on the garden green,
Down on the roof so brown–
Up in the air I go flying again,
Up in the air and down!
–ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON
“Grandmama, can I have this?”
We’ve all heard the proverb, “One man’s trash is another man’s treasure.” and I’m proud to say my DNA of hoarding and obsession for shiny baubles is alive and well and thriving in this next generation.
When they find something around here that they want/need, these Angel Kids call me Grandmama. I love that extra syllable. I AM a mom and a grandma, so it works.
They like to inspect every room like a couple of CSI forensic detectives, searching for whatever might strike their fancy among my little treasures, along with an extraordinary ability to suss out anything new that’s been added since their last visit, like my penguin box.
I especially like that they ASK and don’t simply TAKE. It really makes all the difference.
“Grandmama, can I have this sparkly box?”
“Yes.”
“I want one too, can I have THIS one?”
“Yes.”
“Grandmama, can I have this Hello Kitty bracelet?”
“Yes.”
“Grandmama, can I have these pearls?”
“Yes.”
(We’re not talking about my real pearls, just a couple strands of fake ones and some pearls used in jewelry making.)
At some point in the day, they opened a closet and discovered my crafty area with shelves of boxes and drawers full of polished rocks and seashells and gems and beach glass and sparkly beads.
“Grandmama, can we have some?”
“Yes.”
Between the two of them, there was a wild feeding frenzy. They sat on the floor, their individual piles of loot growing and growing.
“OMG, LOOK AT THE GEMS!”
“Can I have the blue ones?”
“Can I have the green ones?”
“Look you guys, I’ll find containers for each of you and yes, you can take what you want. All I ask is that you work together and don’t argue about who takes what. Compromise and share. Do we have a deal?”
OK, Grandmama, we can do that. Even the big pearls?
“Yes, even those.”
“DAD, GRANDMAMA SAID WE CAN BRING ALL OF THE TREASURES HOME!”
As happy as that makes those Angel Kids, I wonder if they have any idea at all how happy it makes ME to be able to make THEM deliriously happy.
A total win-win. DNA RULES!
“Grandma, what’s THIS?”
Angel Girl asks the question as she squeezes the back of my upper arm.
“Is that FAT?”
“Why is your arm so FAT right there?”
“Hey, T, come see Grandma’s FAT!”
That’s a call to action no big brother could resist. Angel Boy runs in, takes a hunk of the back of my upper arm and confirms his sister’s diagnosis.
“That’s a lot of fat, Grandma!”
I hear the unmistakeable sound of the original Angel Boy snickering in the other room. I bet it’s all deja vu for him as he must recall torturing me the same way.
Out of the mouths of babes, right?
I’m shaking my head; the apple definitely doesn’t fall far from the tree, not with these guys.
“Oh jeez, it’s SKIN, girl. Everyone has SKIN.”
She lifts her own perfectly formed and toned upper arm to show me. “I don’t. My arm doesn’t look like that.”
Mom chimes in, “Wait until you’re older. Come here and help me with breakfast. Let Grandma finish dressing!”
Her brother lifts his wiry arm (built just like his dad)… “Not me either, Grandma. See MY arm?”
I query the other grownups, “Where did she learn all this fat shaming? Sheesh, I thought nowadays children learned to be inclusive and accepting of all of our differences. What’s up with this?”
While I’m speaking, Angel Girl is following me around, squeezing my arms and laughing hysterically. I can’t help it, now I’m laughing, too–because, at the end of the day, it’s just funny. She’s always been hyperfocused and hypercritical of my each and every detail –from my hair to my shoes, and this is no different.
“Jeez Louise, girl, goodness gracious sakes alive, you’re killing me.”
She’s not being rude, if that’s your conclusion–she would never intend to hurt my feelings – it’s simply a case of speaking her truth. I’m one thousand percent sure that she would naturally censor herself with her pre-K classmates, but I’m different, and it’s OK to practice life skills on me.
I’m her pet project, the Little Grandma, with apparently endless patience.
Both of the Angel Kids are fascinated by my diminutive size…
“My hands are almost as big as yours, Grandma!” (This is a continual hand-to-hand ritual measurement every time we see each other to gauge how much they’ve grown.)
“Look, I can wear your shoes now!”
“Can I have your Hello Kitty shirt, Grandma! It fits ME!”
“Why are you so small?”
“Stand still! I am LITERALLY almost as tall as you are!”
And that’s true. I’m five feet and that 7.5 year-old truly is nearly my size.
That’s the time I tell them that the best presents come in small packages, but since that’s not their life experience, they shake their heads and laugh.
Thanks to Angel Girl’s eagle eyes, I have to silently agree that I need to focus more work on my triceps.
Brutal honesty. BRUTAL. Brutally honest.
There is truly no greater joy than to have my sweet yet scarily precocious Angels in their car seats as we drive down to the beach, windows down, all of us belting out Karma by Taylor Swift.
They pay no attention to the fact that I can’t carry a tune; we’re nodding our heads and singing along with Apple music. “Play it again, Grandma!”
“Karma is my boyfriend.”
“I keep my side of the street clean. You wouldn’t know what I mean…”
(Picture us mimic sweeping with our hands.)
“Karma is a cat…Purring in my lap ’cause it loves me.”
“Me and karma are like THAT.”
“Karma takes all my friends to the summit.”
“Karma’s gonna track you down Step by step from town to town.”
Like Taylor changed the lyrics to her bf’s name, I also change the words in this line…
“Karma is the guy on the screen coming straight home to me.”
to
“Karma is my two favorite kids coming straight home to me.”
Time spent with these Angel Kids is a neverending tapestry of shared joyful memories, including singing with tone deaf Grandma.
“Play it again, Grandma!” And I did.
What’s your family’s favorite holiday movie?
I liked It’s a Wonderful Life until I got old enough to figure out that James Stewart’s character stood on the bridge contemplating suicide. Somehow that didn’t seem very happy to me and I didn’t think it was the type of conversation we wanted to have with the Angel Kids.
If you watch Miracle on 34th Street, I recommend the original 1940s black and white version with Natalie Wood.
When everyone was here for Thanksgiving, our goal was to find non-animated films with real people. We chose National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation with Chevy Chase and my absolute all-time favorite, Elf.
My son, DIL, and I couldn’t stop laughing during National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. Neither one of us had seen it since it was originally released. A lot of the jokes were lost on the kids (Angel Girl fell asleep right away), and except for one slightly inappropriate part with a semi-nude female, it was slapstick humor at its finest, perfect for a precocious 7.5 year old.
The next evening we watched Elf. I always resonate with Buddy’s everlasting childlike joy and joie de vivre. He’s innocent and trusting, and the overarching message is that love wins every single time. Again, Angel Girl fell asleep immediately, so we’ll have to make it a family tradition and watch it again when she can stay awake.
My two most favorite lines in Elf are “Santa! I know him!” and “So…good news. I saw a dog today.” I say both of those lines year-round, and laugh to myself every single time.
New to me, but released in 2016, is A Nutcracker Christmas. It combines a love story and ballet, what could be better? Well acted and danced, it is a JOY to watch.
Since we also celebrate Hanukkah (begins sundown on December 7), I found a website that lists some family-friendly movies and we’ll watch a couple of them, too. https://www.verywellfamily.com/10-hanukah-movies-to-watch-with-kids-5208915
What are your favorite holiday movie traditions?
Enchanted Seashells by Princess Rosebud 