Deep thoughts I do not have right now. The weekend found me oddly discombobulated and tired; I feel lately like I’m not entirely inside my own body. Or maybe I’m too much inside my own head and not enough inside my body. Maybe this is just a towards-the-solstice fog. In lieu of anything substantial, I can offer three scenes from my regular little life.
This summer, while flying to Legoland:
Whit, folded over, examining the bottom of his seat between his own legs, “This is for flotation?”
“Yes, Whit,” I said.
“But only for if we land on water, right?” Still bent over, he was now using his hands to explore under his own seat. I thought of Kara and how she’d have the Purell ready.
“Yes, Whit. Only on water. If we crash on land, well, you don’t need your seat cushion for flotation.”
Grace, sitting by the window and reading Percy Jackson so intently I had no idea she was listening to us, pipes up, without looking up from her book, “That’s always what I have thought. Better to land on water.”
“That’s a good thing to have an opinion on, Grace,” I looked at her, startled. She didn’t even glance up from the page. All I could think of was Robert Frost’s iconic poem “Fire and Ice,” and I wondered in what universe my seven year old has thought through what surface she would prefer her plane to crash on.
****
Walking upstairs from dinner, this week:
“Barbies are so lame,” Grace says, her voice tinged with a performative disdain. She knows how I feel about Barbie. She glances over her shoulder, looking for my reaction. I smile and nod, urging her and Whit both up the stairs with my eyes. Why does it take so long, this final ascent? “They can’t even stand up on those feet,” she said, and I stifle a giggle. At least when she’s not wearing her stilettos, she can’t. So true.
“Barbies are also always losing their heads,” offers Whit, from his spot above us on the Everest of the stairs. (of course he helps this loss along, enjoying the loud “pop!” Barbie heads make when they are snapped off, but still … inadvertently funny).
****
Before bed, last week:
It had been raining and I had not been able to run my children like dogs after school at the park (which is my usual parenting approach). They were incredibly hyper and wired and annoying before bed. So I asked them to do 100 jumping jacks each. And they did.
the Barbie comments made me laugh, it’s been 20+ years I hadn’t thought about those bizarre feet and the little noise of the head popping out.
your parenting method equals mine. But I can’t allow jumping jacks, that would disturb the fragile peace with the downstairs neighbors. Have my kid run from one end of the flat to the other under the pretext of putting toys away. Hopefully we get a tidier flat too.
Sometimes these stories, though fleeting tell so much about ourselves, and the lives we lead. I love that you shared, and enjoy the opportunity to see you through a moment in time. It feels very real.
As an aside, I can totally relate to feeling like you are living outside of yourself. I feel exactly the same. It’s very disconcerting.
landing on water, reflecting on barbie madness, jumping before bed…oh, how i love stories from your beautiful life.
I love these little vignettes from your life. I do understand about being in my head too much. If only I could find a way of being less intense sometimes – but perhaps I should accept it for what it is.
We run the kids around a loop we have in our apartment 🙂 Tires them out just enough for bed!
Lyndsey,
Thanks for sharing part of your life. The things little ones say! Very funny.
That is curious to think of why your daughter would’ve thought about where she’d want her plane to crash. Her reading and making that comment somehow make me think she’s like her mother. Am I right? lol
Wow. I had the same weekend. I felt like I was circling in on something hard, like I was coming sideways onto some truth I didn’t really want to acknowledge and still don’t know anything about. So weird. But I totally get where you were.
Your kids rock. It’s so shattering though when they give voice to our own fears. It makes me wonder about the world they have inherited.
This got me wondering about how Barbie might feel about the airport scanners—proud to be seen without her clothes, even without her head. Sure she’s lame, but I’m starting to think about Toy Story 4 (or are we on 5?), where Barbie could be at the women’s shelter, and then becomes politicized… sort of “Legally Blonde” meets “Devil wears very tiny Prada.”
I think it’s time for me to do some jumping jacks 🙂