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General Daily Overview: The Full Moon in social Aquarius today at 6:53 am EDT brings us a sense of the emotional energies changing once again. Full Moons bring our emotions into power as our dreams overflow into waking hours. In Aquarius, however, the Moon focuses our concerns toward general principles rather than the individual feelings -- and this axis is now stressed as far as it will go. We need to connect our individuality with a group or community, but we also need to stay detached enough to remain ourselves.
Yesterday when Dae and I went to the playground, we were the only ones there. (Seems Huntsvillians have learnt how not to suffer heatstroke: you come out early or you come out *late*, but leave the hours between 10:00 and 5:30 ALONE.) So I felt perfectly safe letting the little man wander at will. If he's the only kid here, then any noise is his, right?
Until this piping little voice says from the gate behind me "Are there any other kids here?"
I freak, because if that's my boy, he's almost gotten away from me. So I round...
On this adorable little pink-clad auburn-haired pixie. "Oh!" we all say to eachother, she, her mom, and I.
"D'you have kids here?" asks her mom.
"Somewhere," I answer. "Would you like to come help me look for him?" I ask the little girl, with an eyebrow to her mother.
"Yes." she says, and Mom follows.
"He's two and a half, and his name is Daemon."
"My name's Ah-i-a'a."
"Ah." Incomprehensible, that, so I look to her mother.
"Arianna."
"Oh, that's lovely!"
"Thank you."
"THERE HE IS!" Arianna calls gleefully, jogging to the sandbox and pausing at the lip. Dae looks up, supremely confident that he's done nothing wrong, and he hasn't. I grin. "We found another kid, love, would you like to play with her?"
He eyes Arianna, shrugs, and goes back to pouring sand through his hands.
Arianna eyes Dae, shrugs, takes off her shoes and plays in the sand a bit, but then hies off elsewhere.
"How old is she?" I ask, tilting my head toward the retreating Arianna. (I swear. Mommy "pick up" lines are no different from the shyte you'd hear in bars in the '70s. "How old is she?" is the Mommy equivalent to "What's your sign".)
"She's three."
She's smaller than Dae, but I've come to expect that.
"How old is he?"
"Two and a half."
"Oh!"
I nod. "Giant on his Dad's side a few generations back, I'm convinced."
Dae begins tossing handfuls of sand into the air in a cloud above his head. The "we're in public" version of the "QUIT THAT, YOU!" lecture comes and goes, and he does.
"So *when* was he born?"
"Twentieth January, '04."
"Makes him a Capricorn or an Aquarius?"
"Cusp of both."
"OH?"
"Yep. Right in the middle of disputed territory."
"She's a double Picese."
"That's got to be fun when she throws a fit."
~mommyshudders~ "LOTS of Water in her chart."
And so the conversation goes--Aquarius, Scorpio moon, I ("yow, what a combination." "You're telling me. 'c'mere, c'mere, c'mere. g'way, g'way, g'way...'") Double Scorpio, her (I try to picture the astrological and astronomical contortions *that* required and fail.)--and before you know it, yes. We've asked "What's your sign" and made a conversation out of it.
I've always liked talking with Scorpios, so I'm not surprised the conversation's going well. As far as I'm concerned, I'm in the entry stages of making a friend. This is good. This makes me smile.
Tall kids (boys between 9 and 13) who may or may not watch out for littles among them wander in, and we both get the Mamma Deer look. She goes off to find her little fish, and I sidle round closer to my Dae. "That was nice, wasn't it, love?"
He tosses sand at me, says "C'mon, Mama; I want to swing."
So we do that, and it's good. I love to hear my boyo laugh.
And then up our Double Scorpio comes, with a purpose in her step. "You wouldn't happen to be looking for a job, would you?"
Wary... smile anyway. "What've you got in mind?"
"I work at the Montessori School, and I need an assistant..."
Okay.
1) I've heard a little of the Montessori philosophy, and I like it. I like it a lot, especially if you've got a creative and curious nest of kids to get that learning synergy going. "Each one, teach one", like educational communism. But I know how the theory of communism usually stacks up against the practice, and I'm also aware of how much this sort of thing costs. I would be getting a job and *costing* the family money.
"But you get half off the tuition if you're an employee, and there're scholarships..."
I'm sure. Still...
2) Those of you who've seen or heard me parent are going to understand why I'm wary of a gig that consists of "keeping them from getting upset" from 8 to 2. I have no problem with spankings. Wolves nip at their pups' tails when necessary, and if it's good enough for Canis Lupis, it's good enough for me. But something tells me that parents who co-slept with their darlings for the first two years of their life, who breastfed more for the bonding time than the nutrition, who create PC names like "attachment parenting" for that thing you do when you're at the mercy of your progeny's erratic schedule and temperament, and who pay $800+ per month for this facility to continue the treatment once they've realised that they miss adult interaction and take part time jobs are not going to be reassured that I take my mothering cues from The Big Bad Wolf.
I did everything the La Leche League tells you *not* to do if you want a healthy, happy, intellegent, connected child. And d'you know what I have? A boy who's strong and smart and eloquent for his age, who giggles like a fiend and is capable of amusing himself, who still cuddles up to read books or sing or watch movies, who sometimes answers "I love you" with "you too," and who can put himself to sleep, given the proper structure before bed.
Ya'll do what you want with your kids, I'll raise mine my way, we'll see how the great experiment comes out when they're taking care of us.
...still.
We exchanged numbers, this Double Scorpio and I. And I'm committed to at least looking into the place. "I know you'd be a *great* fit, and in a year, when I leave, you could take over my position..." She's got the same sort of look in her eye that rabbits do when they see you looking at them and aren't sure whether you're a threat or not. She isn't seeing me, she's looking past me at the job.
The rest of the stay at the playground becomes a pitch.
I'm not reassured.
But I'll look into it.
Because until that cropped up, I was making a friend, and I'd like to get back to that, if it's possible.
Yesterday when Dae and I went to the playground, we were the only ones there. (Seems Huntsvillians have learnt how not to suffer heatstroke: you come out early or you come out *late*, but leave the hours between 10:00 and 5:30 ALONE.) So I felt perfectly safe letting the little man wander at will. If he's the only kid here, then any noise is his, right?
Until this piping little voice says from the gate behind me "Are there any other kids here?"
I freak, because if that's my boy, he's almost gotten away from me. So I round...
On this adorable little pink-clad auburn-haired pixie. "Oh!" we all say to eachother, she, her mom, and I.
"D'you have kids here?" asks her mom.
"Somewhere," I answer. "Would you like to come help me look for him?" I ask the little girl, with an eyebrow to her mother.
"Yes." she says, and Mom follows.
"He's two and a half, and his name is Daemon."
"My name's Ah-i-a'a."
"Ah." Incomprehensible, that, so I look to her mother.
"Arianna."
"Oh, that's lovely!"
"Thank you."
"THERE HE IS!" Arianna calls gleefully, jogging to the sandbox and pausing at the lip. Dae looks up, supremely confident that he's done nothing wrong, and he hasn't. I grin. "We found another kid, love, would you like to play with her?"
He eyes Arianna, shrugs, and goes back to pouring sand through his hands.
Arianna eyes Dae, shrugs, takes off her shoes and plays in the sand a bit, but then hies off elsewhere.
"How old is she?" I ask, tilting my head toward the retreating Arianna. (I swear. Mommy "pick up" lines are no different from the shyte you'd hear in bars in the '70s. "How old is she?" is the Mommy equivalent to "What's your sign".)
"She's three."
She's smaller than Dae, but I've come to expect that.
"How old is he?"
"Two and a half."
"Oh!"
I nod. "Giant on his Dad's side a few generations back, I'm convinced."
Dae begins tossing handfuls of sand into the air in a cloud above his head. The "we're in public" version of the "QUIT THAT, YOU!" lecture comes and goes, and he does.
"So *when* was he born?"
"Twentieth January, '04."
"Makes him a Capricorn or an Aquarius?"
"Cusp of both."
"OH?"
"Yep. Right in the middle of disputed territory."
"She's a double Picese."
"That's got to be fun when she throws a fit."
~mommyshudders~ "LOTS of Water in her chart."
And so the conversation goes--Aquarius, Scorpio moon, I ("yow, what a combination." "You're telling me. 'c'mere, c'mere, c'mere. g'way, g'way, g'way...'") Double Scorpio, her (I try to picture the astrological and astronomical contortions *that* required and fail.)--and before you know it, yes. We've asked "What's your sign" and made a conversation out of it.
I've always liked talking with Scorpios, so I'm not surprised the conversation's going well. As far as I'm concerned, I'm in the entry stages of making a friend. This is good. This makes me smile.
Tall kids (boys between 9 and 13) who may or may not watch out for littles among them wander in, and we both get the Mamma Deer look. She goes off to find her little fish, and I sidle round closer to my Dae. "That was nice, wasn't it, love?"
He tosses sand at me, says "C'mon, Mama; I want to swing."
So we do that, and it's good. I love to hear my boyo laugh.
And then up our Double Scorpio comes, with a purpose in her step. "You wouldn't happen to be looking for a job, would you?"
Wary... smile anyway. "What've you got in mind?"
"I work at the Montessori School, and I need an assistant..."
Okay.
1) I've heard a little of the Montessori philosophy, and I like it. I like it a lot, especially if you've got a creative and curious nest of kids to get that learning synergy going. "Each one, teach one", like educational communism. But I know how the theory of communism usually stacks up against the practice, and I'm also aware of how much this sort of thing costs. I would be getting a job and *costing* the family money.
"But you get half off the tuition if you're an employee, and there're scholarships..."
I'm sure. Still...
2) Those of you who've seen or heard me parent are going to understand why I'm wary of a gig that consists of "keeping them from getting upset" from 8 to 2. I have no problem with spankings. Wolves nip at their pups' tails when necessary, and if it's good enough for Canis Lupis, it's good enough for me. But something tells me that parents who co-slept with their darlings for the first two years of their life, who breastfed more for the bonding time than the nutrition, who create PC names like "attachment parenting" for that thing you do when you're at the mercy of your progeny's erratic schedule and temperament, and who pay $800+ per month for this facility to continue the treatment once they've realised that they miss adult interaction and take part time jobs are not going to be reassured that I take my mothering cues from The Big Bad Wolf.
I did everything the La Leche League tells you *not* to do if you want a healthy, happy, intellegent, connected child. And d'you know what I have? A boy who's strong and smart and eloquent for his age, who giggles like a fiend and is capable of amusing himself, who still cuddles up to read books or sing or watch movies, who sometimes answers "I love you" with "you too," and who can put himself to sleep, given the proper structure before bed.
Ya'll do what you want with your kids, I'll raise mine my way, we'll see how the great experiment comes out when they're taking care of us.
...still.
We exchanged numbers, this Double Scorpio and I. And I'm committed to at least looking into the place. "I know you'd be a *great* fit, and in a year, when I leave, you could take over my position..." She's got the same sort of look in her eye that rabbits do when they see you looking at them and aren't sure whether you're a threat or not. She isn't seeing me, she's looking past me at the job.
The rest of the stay at the playground becomes a pitch.
I'm not reassured.
But I'll look into it.
Because until that cropped up, I was making a friend, and I'd like to get back to that, if it's possible.
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