MOTHERHOOD RIGHT NOW / HUCK THE SCHOOLKID

Today, my baby started pre school.

Yesterday afternoon found us on a quixotic hunt for a bag of roasting marshmallows. The sun was hot, we'd been out for a while (seriously Brooklyn with the sudden marshmallow shortage!) (have you read this?), and Huck had started the "I'm too tired to go on!" routine with the tormented voice and the dragging feet and the panicked, whiny whimpers and the "I can't run! Carry me, please!" There's a whole system in place here, and the two of us know it intimately. First comes the whining, then the part where he stands right in front of me so I can't take another step without tripping over him, and then comes the bartering (if you walk all the way home, we can have dessert after dinner!), and then finally I give up, first saying At least ask nicely, and then once he has and I'm carrying him and he's satisfied with life, he'll start in on all of these wonderfully inane existential questions.

"Mom, what does "smaller" mean?"

When Brandon's around I usually turn Huck over to him. Gladly. I figure, it's gotta be hard to be a Brandon and be off at work all the time, missing all these funny little Huck quirks and routines and anecdotes, but more than that, Mom done like her breaks, son. But this time, watching Dad tackle the receiving end of Huck's never-ending requests and queries and general updates on life in minute-to-minute detail, was suddenly more bitter than sweet. Here somebody else was having my experiences, experiences that aren't even mine anymore--at least, not the way they used to be. Those days when it was just us two, Huck and Mom, Partners In Crime--asking and answering the impossible questions, planning our days out on the one-for-one system (I go with you to the playground, you come with me to get concealer), sharing a plain bagel with cream cheese after the playground and capping it off with a frozen yogurt at Culture--those days are ending. We'll only get two a week from now on. Plus holidays and summers. And--two a week!? Is that not unfair! I've started to understand that whole Blubbering Mom on Her Kid's First Day nonsense, after months of swearing I wasn't going to get emotional about it.

Maybe it's not about the missing them, so much as it's about the significance of letting them go.

I do feel as though I've handed over my controlling interest in the Raising Of Huck Corporation, LLC. I've sold some of my shares to the teachers and friends and other outside influences that will become more and more a part of his life now that I'm no longer the primary shareholder. On the one hand, I'm so happy for him. And me! Free time! Also, I'm thrilled to be able share him. He is a blessing, and who am I to deprive people of such blessings? Like all kinds of joy, Huck is a thing best shared. But also, Hey. That's mine. 

"Come here, let me snuzzle you," I said to Huck last night as the sun was setting and the ache in my throat had gotten too big to ignore. 

"Why?" Huck asked, screwing his yellow mechanical crayon up and then down, screwing up his mouth to one side, and winking one eye as he concentrated on getting just the right amount of crayon set for the page in his coloring book.

"Because," I said. "I am feeling nostalgic."

I walked into his bedroom and scooped him up into my lap. He smushed his cheek into mine, still screwing that yellow crayon up and down, bouncing his legs against my knees, and then before I could help it my vision got blurry and my muscles forced my mouth into this ugly, involuntarily little frown.

"I just want you to know," I mumbled into Huck's cheek, still so soft and squishy with that scent of spun sugar I've always loved, "that the time we've spent together, you and me, just us two, has been the best time in my life. I love you so, so much, and I am so excited for you. You are such a big boy, and I am so proud to be your mama."

(Oh crap, here it comes.)

"I love you too, Mom," he said, "but Mom? This place is for kid stuff. Can you go do grown up things with Dad on the couch?"

"Okay, baby," I said as I stood up, straightening my shirt, and wiping off a stray tear. Brandon eyed me with amusement from the couch as I walked over and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of him and pouted. I'd been swearing for days that I wouldn't cry, but what are you gonna do? It's the kind of sadness that has no solution. You can't fix the melancholy of nostalgia, not even if you wanted to. And I don't want to. I'd never wish this away, not for all the rewind buttons on the planet. Even if I found Huck's rewind button, man...  I'd leave that sucker un-pushed. This is so wonderful, and the pain is an important part of it.

We all walked Huck to school this morning, the Holbrook Trio, Brandon snapping photos all the way there like a proper Dadarazzi. I'm so grateful to have these photos. Even if I sort of suspect that apart from the family memories, what Brandon was really after was a good shot of me mid-cry. ;)

A few of our favorites:

Aw crap, he got one.

Saying goodbye and see you at pick up...

He was a little worried on the walk over, telling me he felt lonesome for me and that he wasn't going to want me to leave, but of course the minute he got there it was all school, all big boy, all I got this, Mom.

I know you do, turkey.

So do I. I think. 

And then Brandon just kept on snapping.

Ooooookay okay okay. Geez. :)

Courage, all you moms. We got this.

MY PRE-FALL CAPSULE COLLECTION

I've been putting together the finishing touches on what I've jokingly started to call my "pre-fall line" this week. If you're just tuning in: I'm attempting a seasonal capsule wardrobe, inspired by this cute girl and her blog that I'm sort of addicted to. I'm allowing myself unlimited undies + socks + bras (not that I need any bras), but I'll be limiting my wardrobe to 40 items or fewer for the duration of a season. I'm thinking of limiting my accessories as well, to "things I never have to take off," as a further, stupider experiment.)

When I was planning and pulling things together at first, I thought I'd give myself a generous 45 item allowance, thinking that straddling the two seasons might require a bit more leeway with things. But then my inner Hermione Granger kicked in and I decided I was going to make it to 40 or fewer straight legit style, hell be damned and all those things. Incredibly high achiever right here. Actually, planning and refining this was a lot of fun. While Huck ran around the playground I'd sit bent over my iPhone, tapping in potential capsule items and pondering combinations and searching my soul for its deepest feelings on junk. It was great.

I'm considering this terribly fantastic and transitional time of year to be a practice run of sorts. I know what I want to be wearing but I'm curious to see what all I'll actually be wearing. Once fall really kicks in--what are we thinking, September 21? I guess?--I'll switch over to the full Fall Capsule, which I'll post about then. (Fall Capsules should be in effect until... December 21 I suppose? What are the rules here? Do we get global warming allowances?)

So here is the line up! I'll link where I can (watch out for rogue affiliate links!) and I'm sorry but I might just fill you in on all of my deepest theories + feelings behind my choices. Scroll fingers at the ready? Now!

THE STRIPES COLLECTION
Because no capsule collection of mine can be complete without a stripe of every variance.

THE WHITE TEE COLLECTION
Surprisingly I've limited myself to four. (One is in the laundry right now.)

OTHER TEES

SHIRTS

SWEATSHIRTS (AND YES, JUST TWO!)

ONE PIECES

ASSORTED BOTTOMS

HEY, CONEY ISLAND!

Wasn't this a great summer? I guess it's technically over now that Labor Day has come and gone. School starts up for us out here next week and I'm seeing sweaters in the shop windows. Like crazy people, we decided to celebrate Labor Day in Coney Island, spending time on the beach and getting us a dang hot dog. It wasn't as nutters as I expected it would be. (One year for the Fourth of July we went out to Coney Isalnd for the hot dog eating contest and were nearly crushed to death by the onslaught of humanity. Suffocation via millions of people's armpits is not the most dignified way to go out, hash tag short girl problems.)

While sitting on the beach watching Huck dutifully run shovelful after shovelful of sludgy sand from the shoreline to the waves, I started having all sorts of terribly profound thoughts about things. I suppose this is the risk you take when you take me places. 

It is busy season right now at Brandon's work, which is a huge bummer. No one wants to ramp up to crazy hours at work at the end of August when everybody else is on vacation, that's just backwards. It's always really taxing on him (hah--taxing??!) (get it? he's a tax attorney) (bloop); even this year when he's had a few years of busy season experience under his belt and he knows what he's doing + he knows how to manage his team and his clients and his schedule, it will still start to wear on him eventually, and before you know it the things that bother him only slightly some of the time, are suddenly bothering him to deathly levels nearly all of the time, and he's about to kill someone if they roll their eyes at him one more time (ah hem, that would be me). So I was staring at the sea after having a good talk with my B and realizing all the ways in which I could be a better spouse + partner, and remembering our lives at this time last year, at this time last month, at this time ten years ago... and watching Huck race back and forth under the late afternoon sun, his shovel full of who even knows what nasty crud (Coney Island = not terribly hypoallergenic or whatever). The waves were coming in harder and faster, beating the sand and bringing the tides in for the evening, when I was just really struck by all of it. Bear with me, this part is hokey, but what do you really expect from me by now?

You know, I wonder sometimes about it, but I don't suspect the waves really know what they're doing when they rush in in the evenings and recede out in the mornings. I don't suppose they know why they're doing it, either; they just know that the moon moves them in and the earth tilts them out and on they go, doing what they do. Does it hurt? No, it's water. But, does it? Does the evening rush-in feel differently from the morning rush-out? For all the brain cells we humans are supposed to have and for all this critical thinking we're supposed to be capable of, we sure are predictable little buggers. In and out. Up and down. Pretty regularly, too, when you stop and notice it. The same things cause us pain and the same things bring us joy, yet it's always surprising, and always so new, and always so complex, when really, we're just the tides. We're just the moon. We wax and wane, the tides come in, the leaves turn gold and down they swirl, and all the kids go back to school (I think those last two lines are from a song I used to sing as a kid :). With every month I feel fine and then sexy and then bloated and then achy, over and over and over. Every year Brandon feels relaxed and then not so relaxed and then slightly crazed and murderous and then mostly fine all over again. I read somewhere the other day that we should aim to be like the climate, not the weather. The weather is erratic and goes up and down. The weather is hurricanes and tornadoes and tsunamis and hail storms. But the climate keeps on, changing only very slowly, with regular intervals of warm and cold, and freeze and thaw. Regular and even, from a far-off view; even if it's chaotic and bizarre when you get in close.

This time right now is an especially full time in my personal lunar cycle or whatever we're going to call it. The tides aren't too low, the tides aren't too high. I can wade in the water and the sunshine is mild and the freckling is even. Soon it will be cold and the winter will suck and I'll wonder to myself, was it ever any easier? Will I ever feel any better? It always was and I always will, though I might not remember it in the moment. And yeah, I'm not really talking about the weather right now. But you knew that. So for those future moments of frost, I want to remember myself right now, right here, where it's really pretty great. When it's good, it's good, so I'm shoring it up while it's around. Hopefully I'll have plenty to cling to when it's not. 

Anyway, a few photos from our day, so this post can triple in length. I know, it's pretty thrilling.

Huck was the busiest little ocean worker all day long, bringing sea water to the sand and then taking sand to the sea water. Accomplishing much, I am sure. Someone told me once that the only difference between boys and girls at this age is how much they move. I don't know if that's true or not but Huck is never sitting still. Sometimes it's exhausting but mostly it's just really fascinating. His head must be such a fun place to hang out.

Burying himself in the sand. (Brandon later came along and helped him get all the way in. Haha. Dreams do come true.)

The board walk! The board walk looks great after Hurricane Sandy. And they seem to have a new souvenir shop with some surprisingly cute tees that I thought about wanting for a half second before remembering I'm supposed to be going super minimal these days. (Oh yes, right right, carry on then.)

There were hot dogs, there was potato salad... there was Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs on the restaurant TV. (Why do I love that movie so much?)

I'm finally wearing my Bens more often now that I've hidden nearly every other pair of my shoes from my sight, and every time I do, I think, Hey, I love these shoes! I'm really pretty predictable.

Never going on that Wonder Wheel, you can't pay me enough money. (Do you like my botched photoshop job on the corners there? I know, now that you see it, you can't un-see it.)

We decided to play some games + ride some rides once the clouds covered the sun and the waves got too choppy. Every few minutes the N train circles around the amusement park and it made me so happy every time. What a neat place this filthy old city is.

And with that cotton candy in his fist, Huck's to-do list had been accomplished, and all was right with the world.

It occurred to me while standing on line with Huck for this puny circus roller coaster that Huck will always grow up with memories of riding the tame rides with Mom, and the fun rides with Dad. And that's just how it should be, if you ask me, because I'm a big old wimp. Now that I'm an adult I'm allowed to be a wimp and nobody can stop me, and this whole line of thinking made me feel kind of silly with happiness for a quick second.

This ride was really puny and I enjoyed myself immensely. 

Crazy swings fall under the way-freaky umbrella. Huck needed some pep talks for this one, and I was so glad it was Brandon there because I would have been all, You're right, Huck, this is madness, the minute he looked at me with those big brown eyes. 

But log flumes! I own you, log flumes!!

Wait wait--close up on Huck's face, because, oh holy priceless.

The kid in front of us too, with whom I happened to coordinate hats! I felt so bad that he was riding by himself, with us, so when I'd say things to Huck, like, isn't this fun?! I'd shout it extra loud so he could hear me too, just in case he needed it. I don't know, it made me feel useful. And then I had another dorky moment remembering the scary rides with my mom (my dad did the puny rides, as it should be), and her ridiculous whooping sounds she'd make during the scariest parts. I always suspected she was whooping extra loud to help me feel like everything was okay and I was safe. And as I did this same thing for Huck I kind of thought, Awwww. 

(If you know of anyone more ridiculous than me, I'd like to meet them. It sounds like we'd be friends.)

I don't know that the other Yankees hat enjoyed this ride as much as I did.

Anyway, in closing: 

From one hot dog to the rest of you pork chops, I hope you had a real nice summer. Now let's do this, September!

The End!

Thank you to ACCOMPANY for my Jean Paul Gaultier amfAR summer tote! 100% of the purchase price goes toward AIDS awareness + help fund the search for a cure.

Past Coney Island visits... HERE, HERE and HERE.