Detail
Elvira’s interest returns to ground level,
its default level, for which she is rewarded:
she is well rewarded for her attention
to detail, reclaiming a safety-pin,
a bottle top and a hair-band from the path,
the safety-pin having a head shaped like a bear.
From Wai-o-tapu she will return with treasure,
some strands of moss teased out from their bed,
some crystals of sulphur carefully lifted,
a hair-band, a bottle-top and a pin.
Treasures to treasure,
a pin to begin.
- Anna Jackson, from Catallus for Children.
I remember reading Anna Jackson’s poetry as part of my English degree. There was one poem in particular which has stuck in my mind all these years; – and this isn’t it, I can’t seem to track it down, although this is on the same vein – it talked of the mundaneness of everyday life with small children and how it can sometimes feel quite brainless. It described the poet’s son turning over rocks and laughing at the bugs he found underneath, and how they lived this experience each day at least once, and yet the boy never seemed to tire of it.
Right now, I am in this poem, but I don't feel frustration so much, as Jackson seemed to; it's more that I recognise how mundane the activities of our day could seem to a bystander, or to someone with a hectic life filled with meetings and creativity and conversation. The way I see it though, there are only a few years of this, probably three or four, before I will have to return to the slipstream of employment, so I might as well enjoy this hiatus in the knee height world of the toddler.
It's a strange world when you think about it. It is a world of tangents. Some days we have an agenda, like Storytime at the library or a playgroup, but some days Mama doesn't have the energy or the transport to get small boy to his activities, so we make good at home. We pretty much drift from place to place, from thing to thing. We get by. Here's yesterday morning for an example:
After breakfast, Zephyr and I got dressed. This involved a giggly nudey run down the corridor (him only) while I chased him, growling 'come back here' in my scary lion's voice.
Then we found his bouncy ball and he went to the top of the stairs and threw it down at me, and I threw it back to him, and it bounced, and we laughed. This went on for around five minutes.
It stopped raining momentarily so we managed to get his gumboots on and a hoodie and then we had to get my shoes and jumper, by which time it started raining again. Played fire engines for two minutes, then it stopped. I love Auckland.
Went outside and splashed in a puddle in the driveway, then splashed in a puddle on the footpath, then back to the driveway.
Crossed the road and looked at some flowers, stroked tree trunks, saw an ant.
Crossed road again. Looked at leaves. Rained again so went inside and read Skippy Jon Jones 123 several times over. Ate mandarin and drank water. Threw muffin all over the floor, used brush and pan to sweep it up, then toddler used brush and pan to 'sweep' the rest of the floor.
The sun came out so went back outside. Walked to the neighbour's place to see if their dog was there. It wasn't. Talked about dogs for a while. Arf-arf.
Watched birds fly past. Talked about birds. Walked up the road. Stopped to climb over planter box around roadside tree, many times.
Went further up the road and saw a bus and a truck. Walked to the main road and watched more buses and trucks and cars. Beep beep.
Went to the corner and pushed the button to cross. Crossed. Pushed the button to cross the other way. Crossed. Repeated until returned to where we started.
Mama mentioned snacks and we started to walk back to the house. On the way we stomped in a muddy puddle we had never seen before. Very good mud. Saw other people's mail in other people's letterboxes. Wanted to take it and had to talk about why we couldn't. Minor disagreement over this.
Saw the cat. Mmmaw, mmmaw.
Reached house and took mail from own mailbox: much jubilation.
Turned over the buckets by back door. Wanted to bring them inside but they were wet, so couldn't. Minor disagreement no.2.
Went upstairs and made a smoothie, which involved a lot of excitement (blender).
Eye rubbing after smoothie, plus a brief stint of lying on the kitchen floor, cued the beginning of the naptime preparation process. Half an hour later, the toddler is asleep.
I won't bore you with the afternoon, but you get the picture. The day is his, and his naptimes are mine. There is really no point in trying to do anything for myself while he is awake. Using a laptop is asking for all sorts of trouble, such as the need to consult the manual to figure out how to change the keyboard back from Arabic. Laundry generally gets unfolded as fast as it can be folded, and pegging it out tends to involve hanging one item at a time before running after the escapee who has taken off towards the road. Not that I class doing the laundry as 'doing something for myself', but you know, it needs to be done.
Anyway, I love it, but I can see how that would be hard to understand for some people, and I can see why some people don't. And I can also see how much more difficult and trying it is likely to get once number two shows his or her face. But as I said before, there are only a few years of this, so we might as well enjoy the chaos before they get all growsed up and we find ourselves in a sad, empty quiet house with no one to mess it up.
Although I'm looking forward to that part too – that's when we travel again! Twenty years to go…
