Quick Takes for a Quiet Stretch

I've been out of the blogging groove lately. It's been hard to find time to write, which is part of it, but some of it is that the urge to record our life has its own ebb and flow. Recently the tide has been at ebb.

Speaking of tides, I've been having a lot of fun with the Aubrey-Maturin novels. I didn't really expect to enjoy them, but they are a blast. I persuaded my husband, who rarely reads fiction, to tackle the first one, though I doubt he'll go the distance. Since I went back to grad school I've been reading a lot less for pleasure. I've been required to do so much reading that I've sought out other leisure activities, like knitting. It was strange to go from being a person who read three or four books each month to a person who only manages one book a month, and so it's been fun to be immersed in this series -- snatching odd moments to read the next few pages.

I decided that when I finished coding transcripts I would take a little time in which the most complicated thing I thought about was whether to cast on a new sock using size 1 needles or size 2 needles. I chose...both! The toe-up sock is the mate to this one, made from Knitty's Azure pattern in some luxurious locally produced yarn.

Kids are doing well here in the second week of summer vacation. No bloodshed, minimal howling. (My standards are pretty low, you'll notice.) Here is a funny thing -- I have often noticed similarities between Marty and Pete. Pete is the first person in the family to wake up in the mornings, and he often climbs in our bed and tells me his dreams -- long wandering dreams involving Star Wars clones. This morning he was so excited that he was talking on the inhale and the exhale both. Marty did just the same thing when he was that age, the only other boy in our family to do so. Isn't that a funny thing for them to have in common?

Baby is growing beautifully, mostly happy and curious about the world around her. She is inching toward mobility and she has figured out how her hands work, which means that the days in which she would sit quietly while an adult did something else (like grading) are gone. Thankfully I won't have any more grading to do until fall.

One of the posts in my drafts folder is about trying to teach my kids to be diligent without sending messages that will leave them trapped in perfectionist hell. Perfectionism has been breathing down my neck lately, the familiar feeling of not doing anything well enough. Why do I bother knitting when there are always flaws? Why am I working on this dissertation when I will never understand hierarchical linear modeling thoroughly? Let's not even talk about the feelings of mothering inadequacy. This struggle has plagued me for as long as I can remember, sometimes more intensely and sometimes less so. I am not sure quite why it's rearing its head with renewed viciousness right now.

I have high hopes for this summer -- habits to build and habits to break. One of the things I want to do is lots of reading aloud with the kids. At the moment I'm about a third of the way through The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe with Pete and about two-thirds of the way through The Two Towers with Marty and Joe. I am going to wrap up this post and see who wants to curl up with a book. More quick takes here.

Comments

[Maria]

My blog (which I haven't updated in a long time… is called Ebb and Flow for exactly the reasons you mention, as well as my connection to the tidal waterways I grew up on. Have a lovely ebb, is my advice. The flow will be back soon enough.

[Sarah @ This Heavenly Life]

I'm curious - how do you go about teaching diligence without that nagging perfection poking it's head up. My girls are still young enough that it's no big deal yet, but I'm interested because my hubby was raised so "perfection" oriented that I've seen the results and I don't want that for my children. I don't want them second guessing every decision they've made, or lacking confidence in their choices. Advice?

[Maria]

This is a problem for my daughter. She is very perfectionistic, afraid to try things if she can't do them as well as she wants. I have consciously tried not to cause this, but perhaps it's a 'do as I say, not as I do' situation?

[Jamie]

Sarah, I wish I knew how to do it. I'm afraid it's a tricky balance to strike.