Thankful Thursday | pledge yourself to me, never leave me be

Not even two weeks ago, it snowed. But in true North Carolina fashion, Wednesday was springtime beautiful. Even I, wintercentric though I am, had to admit it was beautiful. Too breezy for the wrap dress I wore, but balmy and energizing. An air the house out, prop the doors open kind of beautiful. A teacher can we have class outside today kind of beautiful. 

I Am Grateful:

• for the tradition of Opeth in winter, introduced to me by my now husband; I am grateful for that first (and only) mix CD he made me, with all the prettiest Opeth songs tacked on at the end, which I listened to on repeat in the weeks leading up to our first kiss.
• for prophetic art in mundane places.
• for a working washer and dryer in my home.
• for Wolfman's homemade chicken curry.
• for post-holiday discounted foil wrapping paper.
• for Charis Melina Brown, one of the high priestesses of my Church of Youtube, and her weird, wacky magician wisdom.
• for phone calls with my baby, even when I can't understand what he's saying.
• for cold Italian subs on the chewiest white bread.
• for the feel of thick shag carpet under bare feet.
• for an amazingly lucky sales day on a would-be unlucky day (Friday the 13th), and to, however briefly, know the feeling of being the store's top salesperson.
• for ponzu sauce.
• to be lulled to sleep by Thorn's purring.
• to look into my rearview mirror as I drive home in the dark and see no one behind me.
• for Ashley Judd.
• when I call home to say goodnight and discover that Mads is War Machine and his daddy is Iron Man; I am grateful when Mads tells me, "I love you, War Machine Mommy."

"Harvest," Opeth

365 | I slept it away, I sexed it away, I read it away

Sunday 1 January 2017, New Year's Day | Winters in North Carolina: grey, brown, wet, ruining my boots.

Monday 2 January 2017 | I still haven't figured out if I'm good at my job or not, if it's sustainable, if there's commission to be had. So, that's something to worry about.

Tuesday 3 January 2017 | Mads and I spent the morning squishing bitter tangerines in the woods for critters.

Wednesday 4 January 2017 | I've been awake by myself a lot at night. I don't mean late in the night (I am not a night owl). Just, since Wolfman's been sick he does not last long after we get our boy to bed, and I'm gifted an hour to myself before I join him. I curl up in the bean bag chair, usually, and listen to music in headphones. I haven't done that, just closed my eyes, relaxed, and listened to music for a while, years maybe.

Thursday 5 January 2017 | In the thicket beyond the fence of our back yard, I lifted an old tire up to show Mads and Ella what was underneath. I was expecting worms and roly-poly bugs, not this little jeweled lizard, all curled up and hibernating in the wet dirt. Ella exclaimed not at the lizard, but me. "You're so strong, Mimi!" she said.

Friday 6 January 2017 | We've got weather coming our way--perhaps up to 9 inches. Although, I doubt very much we'll have that degree of precipitation. That many inches of snow only ever hits us by surprise. If our weathermen are predicting it, it just won't happen. We'll get something, I don't doubt that. And something will put the whole region on pause. Something is enough. Wolfman and I have been looking forward to a weather day for a while. We've planned a double feature of The Thing and The Shining, and we're stocked up on R.J. MacReady's booze of choice.

Saturday 7 January 2017 | I only have one good room in the house for growing things, and in case you haven't heard, I love growing things. (Growing things may be my calling, my thing.) The house situated in the wrong direction and so misses all the good light to be had. But, the bay windows in the dining nook give me enough to keep some things alive. Wolfman took out the leaf in our dining table and pushed it closer to the kitchen island for me. When I saw the extra room I exclaimed, "Now I can get more plants!" No, that's not what he had in mind. Now I (we) have more room to maneuver around the plants I have. I appreciate the gesture, regardless.

Sunday 8 January 2017 | Mads and I ventured out into the snow today (Mads mostly just ate the snow). Lunchbox came out with us but wandered too close to the street for my liking and either couldn't hear me call him or pretended not to hear me call him. I finally got his attention, and he glumly walked back toward the house, slowly, like his bones ache. I let him inside to be with his man. Wolfman told me he wrapped Lunchbox up in a towel and rubbed him dry like a child, like a prince.

Wednesday 11 January 2017 | In the slow moments at work, I read a book about gardening. I'm not wishing winter away, but an integral part of winter seems to be cozily dreaming of and planning for spring.

Thursday 12 January 2017 | During last night's full moon, I moved around my kitchen silently, trimming back my overgrown Jade and Wandering Jew. I have a new collection of clippings for propagation, and to make room for them I potted together some of my previously propagated succulents. Here is my little nursery, babies tucked into fresh dirt. 

"Cranes in the Sky," Solange

Just Joy | unwinding

• I'm tucking Mads into bed and singing him "Frosty the Snowman" and "Rudolph" at his request. I keep flubbing and forgetting lyrics, and he indulges me and forgives me with giggles.
• Wolfman stops the car at the end of our drive way so I can hop out and tend to our overflowing mail box. I have a suspicion as to what has so filled the box and skip back across the street. Wolfman's yule gift has arrived, one he did not ask for, but which I am so excited to give him.
• Sitting in the Tribeca vignette with my work family, discussing the finer points of The Jerry Springer Show. Joe explains the currency of "Jerry beads" and Dennis asks, "Well, are they at least Jelly Bellys?" There is a long pause while the image of women flashing cameras for jelly beans flashes through my mind, and then I laugh until I'm crying, a long, intense belly laugh that feels like medicine.
• I happen to sit down in the break room to eat lunch just as Ron is finishing his, and he holds out a plastic sandwich baggie with two pieces of his wife's chocolate fudge to share with me.
• I am on my break at work, have just walked twenty minutes to buy a cold Italian sub on white  bread and am eating it in my car, staring at the sky and skeleton trees through the windshield, listening to Ulaan Passerine's "Unwinding," lettuce falling onto the deli paper unfolded in my lap.
• The moon is already up, though the sun has not set yet, not quite. The ground is white with yesterday's snow, and I stand against the brick wall of the house watching my boy, wearing his Batman mask and his winter coat underneath his cape, running from fence to fence in the yard, flourishing his cape, crunching the layers of hard snow and ice under furious feet.

Ulaan Passerine, The Great Unwinding

Madmartigan, 3 Years Old | I feel just like a local god when I'm with the boys

About Mads, 3 Years & 5 Months Old: 

When my latest employer requested I tell him a little bit about myself in my interview, the first thing I said was, "I'm a mom." Mads is all I talk about (unless I'm talking about Wolfman). I tell my co-workers all the cute things he says, and I laugh heartily and proudly as I report on him, not exactly caring whether anyone else is interested. But, I'd never actually brought him in the store to introduce him to everyone until this month. I told everyone, "He's wild," or, "He's a lot." The latter is actually the best description I've been able to manage for Mads. When I told Mads we were going to my work to pick something up I'd forgotten, he was excited. He told me, "I'm going to say, 'Nice to meet you.'" But when we pulled into the parking lot, he told me, "Mommy, I don't want to say 'nice to meet you,' I'm feeling shy." He hid behind my legs when I tried to introduce him to people, but he excitedly ran circles around the store when I let him loose. He tested half the recliners in the store, rocking them so hard they jumped. Dennis said, wryly, "I see what you meant," as Mads ran past him. Jason said, "No wonder you don't have any mom weight on you." (#humblebrag) 

• Mads calls Eskimo kisses "snuggle kisses," and asks for them several times a day.
• Mads also requests hugs, particularly after I lay him down to bed or buckle him into his car seat.
• On Thursday and Sunday mornings, when I'm driving the car and check in with him, "How you doin, buddy?" He'll say, "I'm doin alright," then, "I forgot to say 'good morning' to you, Mommy. Good morning!"
• Mads groans, "I'm tired of these damn people."
• Mads says, "Warlocks are boy witches, and they fight and throw fire balls. And they're mean."
• Mads sings songs to himself--Christmas songs, KISS songs--and he has an amazing sense of rhythm and pitch. His musicality blows my mind (he did not get that from me).
• In a phone call from my grandma, she revealed that while watching something slapstick-y, Mads laughed harder than she'd ever heard him laugh before.
• Watching the first episode of The Adventures of Brisco County Jr., when romance starts happening on screen between Brisco and Dixie, Mads says, "I don't want them to kiss," and covers his eyes.
• When I ask him if he feels like sometimes his dad and I ignore him, he answers in the affirmative. I ask, "Does that make you feel bad?" He responds, "It makes me feel frustrated and mad. And when I'm frustrated and mad I say 'damn it!'"
• Martigan's favorite books this month: Nicholas Oldland's Life in the Wild books, Maya was Grumpy
• Martigan's favorite shows/movies this month: Puffin Rock, Scooby Doo & KISS: Rock n' Roll Mystery, The Adventures of Brisco County Jr.

A photo posted by Michelle Vaughn (@wolfpeople) on Dec 15, 2016 at 9:21am PST

A photo posted by Michelle Vaughn (@wolfpeople) on Dec 22, 2016 at 8:09am PST

Uncanny. #kidart

A photo posted by Michelle Vaughn (@wolfpeople) on Dec 27, 2016 at 6:50pm PST

"Local God," Everclear

Thankful Thursday | I just want to build a fire with you, and I promise I'll never grow tired of you

I Am Grateful:

• for my co-worker Erica's homemade Christmas cookies (especially the apricot thumbprints).
• for heavy, smooth-writing pens.
• for Why Oh Why.
• for that house on High House Road, ALL lit up, and that we found it while driving a round about way home to avoid traffic.
• that my hands are always cool and Wolfman's are always warm and that makes us a perfect match.
• when Mads asks me to snuggle his toy dragon before bed.
• for Ms. Carolyn D., my customer one day, who reminds me to be thankful, always, and hugs me before she leaves the store.
• for minty toothpaste that burns my tongue.
• for our recliner that Grandma falls asleep in after Christmas lunch, in a full recline, while Return of the King plays.
• for Viggo Mortensen as Aragorn.
• to climb into a warm bed at night next to my already sleeping husband.
• for my son's energy, even when it feels like too much.
• for Christmas movies that admit to how not great Christmas can be, how not great families can be, and how not great people can be.
• for headlights in the fog.
• for our lady betas, named by Mads: Blue and Red--for their beauty, for their differing personalities, that their care is the first step in teaching my son responsibility and stewardship.
• for coconut oil.

"Christmas Sweaters," The Classic Brown

Yule | I want an alien for Christmas this year

This past yuletide has been, by far, my favorite in recent memory. I wrote in a letter to my friend Kath that unlike last year, this Christmas Eve did not find me sitting on the hearth crying into my hands over my various inadequacies. Instead, Wolfman and I started a new Christmas Eve tradition of watching Krampus while wrapping the last of the gifts and getting the house ready for Santa's visit. Our holiday was not the most perfect, certainly not the most picturesque (actually, I have no photos of Solstice or Christmas at all), and just like everybody else's December, ours went by too fast. But, our boy was so excited, so delighted all month long, that it was easy to relax and delight right along with him. Somehow, completely uncharacteristically, I was able to shut my brain off and just be, just live. On Christmas night, after all the presents were opened and all the food was tasted, after our boy was snug in bed at my grandmother's house, I sat on our front porch with Wolfman in the dark. We smoked cigarettes and looked out at our neighbor's crazy strings of lights draping down from the trees across the street, like some alien vines. This, I told him, was what I want more of in 2017--not the cigarettes, necessarily, but moments of pause. Yuletide is a lot of fucking fun if you just stop thinking about it so much. 

"I Want An Alien for Christmas," Fountains of Wayne

Madmartigan, 3 Years Old

Sir Madmartigan

A photo posted by Michelle Vaughn (@wolfpeople) on Nov 20, 2016 at 1:41pm PST

About Mads, 3 Years & 4 Months Old:

• Mads knows the difference between "right" and "left."
• Mads, under the influence of his cousin Ella, has started taunting in a sing-song, "na na na naa naa."
• Mads calls Bojangles "Bonejangles."
• Mads says, "Mommy called me Damn It!"
• On the ride to work one day, Mads tells me a little girl he saw is his friend. Then, without prompting, he sililoquies: "She is my best friend. She is my sweetheart. I wrap her in a blanket, and I kiss her." He also frequently puts his little hand on my face and tells me, "You're my sweetheart, Mommy," or, "You're so cute, Mommy."
• Mads says "awesome!"
• If I call him beautiful or handsome, he corrects, "No, Mommy, I'm cool."
• Martigan's favorite books this month: Creepy Carrots! by Aaron Reynolds & Peter Brown, Hey That's My Monster by Amanda Noll & Howard McWilliam, Janine by Maryann Cocca-Leffler
• Martigan's favorite movie/show this month: Justin Time and Justin Time Go

This little Radio Flyer tricycle appeared under our tree two Christmases ago. It's taken Mads this long to figure out how to pedal it, though we've been working on pedaling this whole time, on and off. He's so proud of this new skill, so triumphant. I'm reminded once again to trust his pace. He'll figure things out. #madmartigan #sonshine #3yearsold

A photo posted by Michelle Vaughn (@wolfpeople) on Nov 29, 2016 at 7:16am PST

Caught Mads eating chocolate chip waffles in bed, and it was so funny I couldn't really be mad. Also, he's sick so he gets a free pass, right? #momfail

A photo posted by Michelle Vaughn (@wolfpeople) on Dec 8, 2016 at 1:36pm PST