Every weekend (read: whenever I can), I will post "Sunday Slivers," which will include whatever significant things we have been doing, reading, and thinking over the past week. I like the word "slivers," since it suggests something small and ephemeral that, unless captured, might disappear. These full, joyous, exhausting days with our growing children might some day be vanishing slivers of time that only words and pictures would help recover.
So, here goes the first installment of "Sunday Slivers"--
*****
As I've said many times before, one of the great unexpected joys of parenting has been the opportunity to discover and share with Sava (so far) great children's books; I fill up with unspeakable happiness whenever I happen upon a great children's book, and I have a tendency to gush about it for days on end; unfortunately, as with so many things in life, Sava prefers to discover books on his own rather than have them thrust upon him by an eager mother, so I have to be careful about introducing new finds; for instance, I can place them strategically on his bed when he is out of sight, or read one in his presence without any comment, waiting for him to ask me about it; most of the time one of these strategies works.The two favorites this week were: Joseph Had a Little Overcoat by Simms Taback and Tops and Bottoms by Janet Stevens.
The overcoat book, imbued with Jewish culture and imagery, tells the story of Joseph, who starts out with an overcoat, which gets worn down to a jacket, down to a vest, a tie, a handkerchief, and finally a button, which towards the end of the book he loses. When he is left with nothing, Joseph makes a book about his overcoat, "which shows..." the book concludes, that "you can always make something out of nothing." The drawings are fantastic, and when I read this last line for the first time to Sava, he squealed with delight, as did I.It's wonderful to be reminded in a materialistic culture which hinges on acquisition that often creating, rather than acquiring, is a more meaningful way to live. The book abounds in various Jewish proverbs in the form of newspaper clippings or wall hangings, and I especially like one which says, "What one has, one doesn't want, and what one wants, one doesn't have." At the end of a particularly difficult week with Raya, when much of the time she seemed miserable from reflux pain and we felt helpless in trying to make her feel better, it is uplifting to be reminded that rather than focus on what our children do not have--ability and desire to eat everything, without any pain or consequence--it pays to focus on what they do have: wonderful sweet personalities (both), beautiful expressive eyes (both), increasing affection for each other (both), and two parents who love them beyond words.
Tops and Bottoms is a book about a lazy bear who has inherited wealth from his father but hates to work, and a poor hare with a huge hungry family which expects support from him. The hare asks the bear to use his land in return for half of each harvest, and when the bear agrees and declares that he wants "tops," the hare plants only things whose bottoms are edible (radishes, carrots, beets); when the bear demands "bottoms," the hare plants salads and such, and gives the bear the roots only; and when the bear demands both "tops and bottoms," the hare plants corn and gives the bear the tops and bottoms but keeps for himself the husks in the middle; it's a wonderfully inventive book, with beautiful illustrations, and much to learn about the earth and food. It's particularly relevant to our lives right now, since Sava helped me plant some vegetables a couple of weeks ago, and we already have the first seedlings--radishes, beets, and carrots, as well as two kinds of lettuce. This afternoon he watered the weeds in our backyard while I picked out some of the extra seedlings in order to give a few of them the chance to grow; our pots are small, so it will not be exactly a plentiful harvest, but we are watching the sprouting seeds with the excitement of first-time parents.
Last weekend, Sava and dad started a series of t-ball classes at the local YMCA, which happens to neighbor--and use as its playground--beautiful Cuesta park. It was not our idea--probably never would have been, since we are both such strangers to baseball and had to look up t-ball in Wikipedia--but Sava's friend Kyle's mom suggested it, and we decided to go along with it. We felt pretty certain that, sensitive rebel that he is, Sava would feel uncomfortable and overwhelmed in an organized activity with a bunch of unfamiliar kids and coaches, and he was apprehensive the first week, but today apparently did very well. He participated in everything (gulp), and even came back seeming to have enjoyed it. I guess we underestimated him, as we sometimes do. It probably makes a difference that parent participation is a big part of the class, and Sava and dad spent much of the time together.
Just recently, Sava has also discovered the joy of watercolors. He got a set for his birthday, and many of the colors are already almost used up; he especially likes to take big sheets and fill them with color, which he says represent a garden (purple for beets, green for lettuce, etc.). Since he's never been crazy about art, this is a surprising and satisfying thing to witness:
Since we had a few rainy days this week, I also had to get creative about keeping him busy indoors; luckily, the boy likes to string beads into pretty necklaces, and this is one mama which has no fear of her boy liking girlie things; as we all know, women dig sensitive guys who appreciate beauty wherever they find it, and this is one heart-breaker in the making.We have at least half a dozen necklaces strewn around the house, and they are Raya's favorite chewing toys of late--
Speaking of Raya, poor baby has had a really rough week, and there are hardly any photos of her because I spent most days carrying her. With her reflux getting worse and worse, we were able to move her endoscopy to this Monday, so early tomorrow morning we are headed to the hospital. We tried stopping her reflux medicine in order to allow the possibility of a reflux test that requires that she be off all medication, but in less than two days she became so crazy with pain that we resumed giving the medicine and thus gave up the chance for this one test. Still, the endoscopy should be able to show a few things, and we hope to come out of it knowing more, as opposed to less.
In the spirit of focusing on what she does and is, it is worth noting that she has become a ceaseless chatter box and with her steroid cheeks going down again, she is cuter than a button. She has a really loud voice and puts it to good use to babble, shout, and laugh. Here is a photo from last week of her enjoying a biter biscuit; she never eats from it since it is so hard, but manages to smear it all over her face and clothes; and yes, daddy looks (and is) very tired:
I've been using the hours I spend nursing Raya or holding her while she sleeps in order to reread some books that I need to have fresh in my mind when I resume teaching. Last week was The Catcher in the Rye, and this week's it is To Kill a Mockingbird. Halfway through, my favorite passage is a little speech Atticus gives to Jem on the occasion of their old neighbor, Mrs. Dubose, dying. A morphine addict for much of her life because of pain, Mrs. Dubose decides to cut off her addiction in order to die "beholden to nobody," and she dies in tremendous pain but with her dignity intact. Here is what Atticus has to say when he explains why he wanted Jem to spend a month reading to her while she was dying:
"I wanted you to see something about her--I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It's when you know you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but you sometimes do. Mrs. Dubose won, all ninety-eight pounds of her. According to her views, she died beholden to nothing and nobody. She was the bravest person I knew."
No comments:
Post a Comment