Cute kid saying + some haikus

A couple of weeks ago, the kids had a half day of school. I was supposed to pick them up at the bus stop, but did the math wrong in my head and as I pulled into the bus stop, I got a sinking feeling in my stomach to see no other parents around. I called the school on the off chance that the bus hadn’t left yet- the bus is a little inconsistent- but was told that the bus had left on time. And my kid and his friend were sitting in the school office; when kids don’t get picked up at the bus stop, they are returned to the school. This was all horrifying and embarrassing for me.

Anyhow, I went to school and got the kids, feeling not so great about myself. I had one job and I messed it up.

I asked the six year old if he had been worried, and he said, “No. I just thought nice things. Like flowers, and cake and my family… things that make me happy.”

What wisdom there is in that… I suppose he knew that there wasn’t a lot he could do, so he decided to spend his time thinking about happy things.

There is something sweet and poetic about his happy things: flowers, cake, and family.

Speaking of which- some haikus from life lately:

Fingers in the pie
Imprints of her impatience
Craters from waiters.

Purple petals poke
Through the warm earth, early
Unexpected blooms

In his plush red vest
Hopping robin on my lawn.
A sentry for spring.

Petals drift like snow-
Fluffy flakes, not biting hail-
All the snow we’ll get.

A Cute Kid saying and January Haikus

View from my window.

The six year old’s favorite hat is this quilted topper that was a hand-me down from friends. It is white and has a furry inside, which means it gets all dirty and matted. I would wash it, but it’s his favorite hat, and I’d rather him wear a dirty hat, than no hat at all.

Okay, but the fuuuuuuuniest thing about this hat, the things that brings me so much joy, is that there are two enormous pompoms attached to the earflaps of his hat. The six year old is very particular that the pom poms get tucked into the coat when he puts his coat on. It’s a whole process, because the pompoms need to be tucked in before the coat can be zipped.

Which is why most mornings, as we are getting ready to go to school, I have a six year old yelling at me, “Mom! You need to tuck my balls in.”

It is very hard to comply with a straight face.

On to haikus….

There is a group, based in the UK called 64 Million Artists, and every January they send out a daily creative prompt. I don’t do all of them – this year I did 17 of the 31 challenges, but I liked having an invitation in my inbox every day to do something creative, either a bit of free journaling, or sketch, or a bit of poetry. So January’s Haikus are based on prompts form the January Challenge.

Prompt: Write an ode to ordinary things
Cup, pen, socks, water
The essential wonder
Of ordinary things

Prompt: Add a face to an ordinary object

My Yeti Rambler. Faithful winter companion.

Prompt: What is your pick me up?
Leave my desk. Go out.
The air lifts me just enough,
Over humps and bumps

Prompt: Use a spillage or stain or something imperfect to inspire your creativity

It’s actually Taki dust….

An orange beacon
Cheeto dust stains my fingers.
My sneaky snacking

Bonus Haiku for this strange non-wintery weather.
Flaky flurries blow
Evidence of chilly air
Quickly disappear

I’m looking for another creative challenge for February, maybe some drawing prompts. I find I like having a mini creative challenge every day. This one looks fun. Or this one. Or this random prompt generator. Or maybe a photography challenge since February looks to be a pretty full month for me and snapping a photo might be easier than sitting down to sketch.

What is ode-worth in your life these days? Have you created anything lately?

A Cute Kid Sayings and Three Haikus

Tree Trimming

We put up our Christmas tree this week, something that takes several days to complete. We get the tree one day. Then the lights go on, often when the tree comes home, but sometimes not. Then the ornaments go on. Then a few days later we remember to put the ornaments from our wedding on.

Most of our ornaments come from the Husband’s family. My late mother-in-law loved Christmas ornaments, and the Husband and his sister would get a new ornament every year. When my in laws passed away, we inherited all the ornaments, mostly because his sister lived abroad and it would have been difficult to get the ornaments to her. We have two large bins of ornaments and they run the gamut from classic balls to Romulan War Ships that light up.

The process has not been with not without its casualties. The baby managed to break at least three ornaments so far. I hate that the breakage happens, but I suppose banning kids from tree trimming is not an option.

The morning after we hung ornaments, the five year old said to me:
“Decorating the Christmas tree is an activity for everyone, not just grown ups. That’s why the Christmas tree has high branches and low branches!”

I love his five year old brain.

Three Haikus from This Cold week:

Waiting for the bus
4pm. Winter dusk brings
Moonrise and pink skies.

“Can you touch the sky?”
He asks of the bare tree limbs
Poking at the clouds.

Drafty door, splinters.
It’s a little bit broken,
Pieces we call home.

Musings on Things in Translation

Kindergarten assignment.

The five year old, I think I’ve mentioned, is in a French immersion program at school. The teacher does not speak English to the children at all, and all the signage, and lessons, and what not are in French. Their specials are in English, but otherwise it’s full immersion. It’s been really interesting to see what bits of language he comes home with. They have learned numbers and and letters and colours. “Red” is “rouge”, as it should be, but “blue” is … “blue”, the difference between “blue” and “bleu” subtle enough not to register with him, especially when spoken. Interesting too, is when he comes home and asks me what certain phrases mean. Of course, to him, they are not separate words, but just a long string of syllables.

“What is ‘luvaylama’?” he asked me the other day.

“I’m not quite sure,” I say. And I ask him to say it more slowly. After several times, I finally get it: “Levez la main.” Raise your hand. I’m not a linguistic researcher, but I do find it fascinating that our brains must at some point learn to break down strings of syllables into separate components. When the baby was younger, I enrolled her in all sorts of language studies at the University, and one of them centered around when children started to differentiate forms of speech. They would play videos of various nonsense syllables and at some point, apparently, kids, even though they don’t know what a word specifically means, will recognize if something is an action word or a “thing” word.

And then there is the wonder of seeing how the five year old’s brain comes to understand things based on context.

Last week, he asks me, “Does ‘Pas maintenent’ mean ‘I don’t want to answer that question?'”

Pas maintenant“, literally means “not now“, but in a way, the five year old’s understanding, if not literally correct, probably captured the spirit of the way he heard it. And in his interpretation, I could suddenly see clearly how the teacher might have used that phrase – I could picture her trying to get twenty-five kindergarteners to line up for lunch and one child trying doggedly to ask something, and the teacher telling that child, “Pas maintenant!”

Seeing the little guy grapple with language and puzzle it out in his brain really hits home the idea that language doesn’t operate in a vacuum.

Switching gears – Four Haikus for Thursday:

Chaotic morning
Multitasking results in
Scraping off burnt toast.

The hours are long
from 4pm til lights out,
Interminable.

This sick day, restful.
The invalid now restless
Clearly recovered.

The view was lovely
And briefly seen. Shivering.
Should have worn more clothes.

A view from our verrrry cold hike attempt.

Three Haikus for Thursday (even though it’s Friday)

… because I fell asleep before I could hit post…. I used to write a lot of haikus here (see them here), and I thought I might try to make it a habit again. Anyhow, here are this week’s efforts.

My tooth brush, child prepped.
Everywhere, toothpaste is smeared.
Love amidst chaos.

Full Moon, spotlight bright
Wakes me like a bulb flicked on
Unexpectedly.

Fall’s brittle carpet,
A cacophony of leaves.
Sounds of a fall walk.

crunch crunch swish.




January Challenge #16 – flowers

For January I signed up for 64 Million Artists’ January Challenge. Every day in January, they send out a prompt for a quick creative challenge. I’m posting some of my output here.

Find a flower. You might find it outside, inside, in a book, magazine or online.  
Consider the colour, shapes and textures of the flower. Is it rough, soft, rotting, smooth…or anything else?

Capture the essence and colours of your flower in a picture, sketch or haiku. 

January rose.
Blazing solitary pink
When will the snow come?

Snow mirroring clouds,
Soft white banks of fluff and cold
with blue sky between.

Haikus for October

Leaves peeping shyly.
Crimson peering through the green,
afraid to be seen.

Baby and acorn
Small vessels of potential
What hopes lie inside!

Low sun at morning
A ray of warmth in the chill
Summer turns to fall.

Dusky ev’ning walk
Late summer meandering
even though it’s fall.

Her hair smells like me-
spicy from nestling in the
crook of my armpit.

Chilly autumn morning,
Misty air, dewy playgrounds
Wet bottoms down slides.

Face raised to the sun
He stands still, soaking the warmth.
Parking lot moment.

Sticky hands reaching
Smearing fruit on her plump chin
Blueberry Van Dyke.

This one is from today, but it feels too immediate to leave for the end of the month:

Window refreshing,
Reviving breathless hope
a shot at a shot.

Haikus for May, June and July

Get back on the bike
Show up and write anything
Back in the habit.

May:

Verdantly dancing,
Winter limbs don leafy coats
All the shades of green.

Exoskeletons
Sunshine trough cicada shells
Jewels left behind.

He slurps his noodles
A bowl of surprise and wonder
Discov’ring mushrooms.

Good Morning Spring Sun!
Slanting through kitchen windows
Stabs me in the eye.

June:

Cicadas flutter
on buzzing wings to treetops
alarmingly loud.

Ghost lights in water
Splash strokes, propelling shadows
Summer dusk swim meet.

June heat blankets me
in a thick layer of air,
prompts my lethargy.

The taste of summer skin
baking in the poolside heat
Sunscreen and chlorine.

The baby dances
unobserved in the kitchen.
It’s true what they say.


July:

Brood X now silent,
Bodies dissolved into earth
Leaving brown-tipped trees.

Skies open, rain storms.
Skies open, sunshine. Briefly.
Enough for a swim.

Haikus for April

Daffodil carpet
spread out under bare limbed trees
Welcome mat for spring.

Wafting on spring winds
blossoms drfiting, blown off trees
like an April snow.

Wet days, then sunshine
Rain coats. Seventies. Short sleeves.
Shifty spring weather.

She picks ev’ry stick
grasped in her baby fingers
so diligently

Biting April winds
awakens my winter coat
from hibernation.

She stands hesitant
Atop the mountain slide. Watis.
Then zips down with glee.

Buffeting spring winds.
Bracing. Cuts through the sunshine.
Blows off lethargy.

Spring brings morning sun
slanting through kitchen windows
stabs me in the eye.

Pandemic reset.
I’m relaxing commitments
to expectations

Haikus for March

A beltway of stars
shines so clear this inky night
freckling the March sky.

Sunlight warms my face
clean air, sharp in my nostrils
shut eyes see spring signs

The birds are singing
Brilliant blue cloudless skies
This first week of spring.

A path through the sky
3/21/21
space station fly by.
(note: I just learned that you can get email notification of when the International Space Station can be seen flying overhead for any given location. Spot the Station. Such a cool summer evening activity!)

Spring brings many things
Blue jays fly on outstretched wings
to eaves for nesting.

I sit in the car
breathing in the still quiet.
Chaos waits inside.