(no subject)

I was rereading some paper journal entries the other night and I noticed the perhaps not surprising theme that my writing was most upbeat on days when I felt most productive and accomplished. And, ironically, most prolific on days when I felt most useless and dissatisfied. (Ironic because of course nobody wants to read that self-pitying inkvomit.)

Yet, even though it's glaringly obvious that there is a simple solution to the cycle of disorganization, depression and anxiety, it's unbelievably difficult to implement. For starters, as anyone who has ever felt depressed knows without being told, it's much easier to wallow in the mire than it is to grab a shovel and start digging your way out of it. EVEN THOUGH the simple act of grabbing the shovel would lift much of the depression.

And speaking of shovels, the cat has apparently added his contribution to the morning's disorder. Better get moving.

(no subject)

Today I washed some dishes and did three loads of laundry. Oh, and got the trash and the recycling to the transfer station and off the back porch. I got the kids to help with emptying wastebaskets and sorting the recyclables. Then we went to the lake for two delicious hours.

I so love the fact that there is a public beach five minutes from my house. I love the shady trees, the constant breeze, the wide expanse of gritty sand, and the lifeguards who know my kids by name. I love that my kids are finally big enough that I can lounge in the sun with a book of sudoku puzzles and never once worry that they'll drown or wander off.

Most of all I love that this summer has really felt like summer.

Also today I began to understand something about boys that I never really got before. Boys are SO MUCH LESS COMPLICATED than girls. If you have a really cool toy, other guys want to be your friend. Period.

Today Danny had a really cool toy. A toy that squirted water. A lot of water. Really far. At first I was worried he was going to annoy other people with it -- and he did, of course. But I didn't expect what happened next. He and this other boy were taking turns without fighting, and squirting each other without getting upset about it. And the girls they were squirting -- even though they were screaming and running away -- came running right back for more.

Dear God, it looked like flirting.

There was rough-housing, but everyone seemed to be having a really good time. And when they had differences, they sorted them out. Before this other boy went home, Dan had gotten his phone number so they could get together again. I'm a whole lot less worried about his social skills right now.

Also it's really clear to me that I need to stop projecting my experiences on him because in spite of all the ways he's like me, there are many more ways that he's just NOT like me. He's sensitive and scattered like me, but he bounces back much more quickly than I ever could. And there is this whole Boy thing about him that becomes more mysterious to me as he gets older.

Thank goodness for Boy Scouts. I think it's the best thing I could have done to drop him into this Manvironment 90 minutes a week and one weekend a month. He's still a distracted little spaz, but he's learning how to relate to these older boys on their terms, in a safe and supportive environment. And it's clear that he does in fact know how to make friends.

Maybe middle school will be okay. It's the first year that all the kids in town will be in one school, so he'll be around kids who haven't spent the last six years forming opinions about him. Here's hoping.