Sunday 4 September 2016 | It's cool enough in the morning to put these beautiful little plaid man shirts I've been collecting for Mads to use (on both kids).
Monday 5 September 2016, Labor Day | In the last week, Mads has very suddenly taken to potty training, his early resistance completely forgotten. The key seems to be nudity or near-nudity, all day long. I joke with Wolfman that one day, Mads will be an adult man, stripping down completely nude in a public lavatory somewhere, freaking everyone out.
Tuesday 6 September 2016 | Since the arrival of this garden spider at my doorstep, I've decided to work with Spider medicine for the next however long she stays, or however long I need her. I've never made a concentrated effort to bring an animal totem into my life and hold that space. Literally, every time I walk out my door, it is this big, beautiful orb weaver who greets me, as she does every September in recent memory (and this is not my habit toward hyperbole; my sister who lived with me in this house for nearly two years corroborated this fact). This year, I choose to believe she has a message for me.
Wednesday 7 September 2016 | Yesterday, Grandma and I took the kids to the State Farmer's Market, one of my favorite places to spend a morning. I couldn't engage, was not truly present in the moment. I was (mostly) gentle with the children, and Grandma and I had the same good conversation we usually do, but I was preoccupied with dread knowing today I'd be at work, my first training day. Monday I felt a little uncertain when I went in to fill out paper work, and during an afternoon and day off, that uncertainty morphed into full-on unease and disquietude. I don't know if this is the job for me. I want to give the job a chance (the opportunity is, really, a decent one), but, I wonder if it's just a bad fit. Maybe this fear is just new job jitters, cold feet, self-sabotage, or maybe this job is just not me. This morning, to take my mind off my mounting misgivings, I stuck my hands in dirt--repotted a big, twisted jade plant I took off Grandma's hands a year ago. Late last night found me pruning one of my ferns. These plants speak a language I'm not quite fluent in (yet), but I find immersing myself in it therapeutic nonetheless.