Pillow Fights

You have been on a jag for pillow fights for the past few months; I knew I was really sick when I couldn't get up to play with you.

Even last night, a rare night when you & your dad were alone & I was home, you were eager to start a pillow fight. Then it was a little too fierce, and you agreed we were both tired. And we stopped.

But then I heard you crying, you hardly cry anymore. You had been playing with your dad, and you hit your head/eye on the edge of the couch.

This morning you had a shiner. And we played with this Wizard guy & Zombie. After you read your book.

You are growing up!!

Tiny Pieces of Evidence That I Will Miss

Obscene banana

Just for documentary purposes.

I think you'd laugh when you see this as a grownup.

You like to shock me by talking about wieners.

I took the bad banana away and gave you another one to draw on.

Your father was napping in the Drum Room. We heard drumming & imagined he was drumming in his sleep.

I couldn't find drawing paper (because I'm packing & have been sick, so everything's a mess)

Banana has been your favorite word for a while now.

When your Dad woke up, he said "I've never seen anyone do Banana Art". He says that about most of what I do, which I assume is a compliment.

Had a dream where I defended a friend of mine, he had lots of artistic projects going on. None of which were making money.

Sounds too familiar.

I wrote back to the Venus theater festival , confirming that I wouldn't have my show in the lineup for April.

Lately I've been trying to be better about telling people why I can't di something or go out with them (because I've been tortured by not being hired & by L, who told me to "be patient" instead of the opposite)

The real reasons:
I saw their Holocaust show (it was AWFUL!!)
Not a group I want to be identified with
Also
I don't have enough of a support group
I don't have the $$
I don't have the support system of the apt that I'd need for rehearsals/meetings
I can't host my Mom during the performances. (She never comes to NYC, but she actually seemed excited to come)

Glad not to do it, but if everything was still the same, I coulda done it& been proud!!

Banana Art

You arrived back home on this Saturday night, after your Feb vacation.

Knocked on my door & then went into the bathroom, knowing I'd be a minute. (Especially because I've been sick in bed for the past 2 weeks with a cold)

"No offense, but your voice still sounds bad"

Then you looked up "Dont mine at night" a Katy Perry (she's Portuguese !!) spoof involving Minecraft. Then another one which was a Bruno Mars spoof of the same.

Your father mentioned a colleague who left to join the educational arm of Minecraft. And then bemoaned the fact that he wasn't a successful app billionaire. We have had that exact conversation repeatedly, so after giving him some pity, I left the room.

A came home, so I left the room, too sick to try to be nice to everyone in the noise & confusion.

For a while, with you, I was actually having fun again.

That's what I was hoping for when I first moved in. A place, an opportunity to play with a kid. I wonder how much easier things would have been for me, your father (even A) if things hadn't moved so fast.

Ah well, things happen as they do, and I've had a lot of fun sitting on the floor doing art with you. Every minute.

Everything else is just complaining & what ifs.

Shopping List for Santa 2011?

Valentine Cards

Valentine's Day, 2014

Sometimes I look around my room and everything look new to me.  Or it looks like a life I don't quite recognize.  (Which I kind of love actually)

Not that the bed is in a new corner, or that I'm sleeping turned around, which it is and I do.  But I wake up and I seem to forget the angst of last week.  Or Hurricane Irene and going shopping with Amber for some alcohol which I never drank and some chips for Henri down the hall (who died last July). I don't remember L, or that summer of your Mom's whirlwind or what I did yesterday or the BeatlesFest last weekend of what I did for Christmas or Pricker or the story book that we created together.

I look at the green couch and the carved chest filled with your father's camping gear. The lamp and the bedstand and the built in closet and the desk with the broken leg that I will all leave behind.  L helped me carry that desk in.  He saw me get it from the trash right outside the courtyard.  He saw me struggling and called from his window, "Do you need help?" and I said no, like I always do.  And he nodded, the way he does, and said "You need help," which was so wonderful at the time.  So simply wonderful, for him to swoop in and carry it gracefully inside, all the way in, to exactly my room.  My first visitor.  All I had to do was hold doors for him, and it was easy. (It would've been such a struggle for me to do it by myself, as everything is.  When I try so hard to keep to myself and rely on myself.)  He got lost, leaving the apartment.  Opened up the closet in the front hall.  Swung his blonde Peter Tork hair, and I thought "How amazing it is to have such gracious and handsome neighbors here,"

And that seems so long ago.

Your mother made love on her birthday.  She's going through some emotional hormonal stuff, menopause and such.  And there's her show this weekend.  The Vagina Monologues.  I donated some Mousetraps for the art gallery in the lobby. I showed you, 3D, strung on fishing wire in a tin pan, layered.  You liked it.  3D.

This week for me has been all fever dreams and haze.  I've been in bed since Monday (and I'm writing this on Friday night).  I've been coughing and I have no sense of smell or taste.  You've been waking me up every morning at 7:30, pillow in hand, wanting me to play pillow fight with you.  I haven't had the energy & haven't been able to breathe.  I'd go to the bathroom, I saw you seeing me in my nightgown, braless (and wonder what memories of me will stick in your mind).  I fell into bed every day this week, barely conscious of anything.

I had an invite to an Anti-Valentine's Day party tonight in NJ, but I don't have the energy.  Or to go to your Mom's performance.  (And I've been looking forward to it for a month!) I've never had a happy valentine's day.  Earlier this week, I did stumble out into the living room to see you beginning to make cards for A.  And your Mom.  I wouldn't have minded so much, except that you were using some papers & markers that I had given to you.  (Okay, I mind.  I wish that you had made me a Valentine.  I would've kept it.  I try to keep everything you do.)

A. threw out all her Valentine's Cards she got from her students.  Tossed them all in the recycling bin. 7.

I'm moving on to a new place.  Where I will be loved.  And surrounded by people who support me.  (I've never really relaxed into your dad's family. Although today he did let me have some chicken soup, but I had to ask)

I will tell you that this apartment is so lovely when it is so quiet.  But that's part of my personality.  I like the quiet above all.  (Usually I like to sing when noone is around.  But my voice sounds very cartoony now.  Even though I'm not really talking.  I cough every 5 minutes)

I see you growing up here. And there will be a baby eventually (even though I suspect, not quite yet). I wonder if you will miss my Mousetraps.