Artful Dodging

Reader, we did it: we hosted the Artful Dining event last evening. This was a fundraiser for the Lancaster Museum of Art. A board member had asked us to be a host last spring. Each host chooses the artists, theme, and date of their event, and then invitations are sent out to the museum's list and hosts' own invitees. Guests pay a fee that goes straight to the museum, and hosts donate all the food and drink. We decided to do it as part of our initiative to get more involved with city institutions beyond the college and broaden our circle. But I'd been nervous about it for months, feeling awkward about inviting our friends to our home for a fee and worried first that too many strangers would come expecting a lavish spread and then that not enough people would come.

The best part of the whole thing was what you see above: the collaboration with our artist friends and the way their work looked installed in our house-- beautiful. All the sculptures are white and the drawings are black ink on white paper, which looked great against our colored walls.

But I'm annoyed and disappointed by the whole event. I'm embarrassed that we had a small number of people who signed up, and then several of them didn't wind up attending, including the museum director. Maybe we picked the wrong weekend, or time of day? Or we priced it too high, or didn't write a very inviting description? But we had never done this before and didn't get much guidance from the museum staff. I'm annoyed at the museum for asking us to take this on and then leaving us to our own devices. It ended up being a lot of effort, for us and for our artists (not to mention my mom), for pretty few attendees.

But I'm most annoyed at myself. Why did I exert so much mental effort on this paltry party? I'm quite used to giving parties. With this one, I worried about the guests, who they'd be, what they'd expect, what they'd think of us. When we went to the organizational meeting last spring, we sat in a fancy living room in someone's fancy house and looked around, realizing we were the youngest, dumbest (least-experienced), poorest people in the room. Somehow I thought all those people and their ilk would be coming to my house. But of course they didn't; they're probably going to each others' events. A few of our acquaintances came, but they tended to be the group among whom we are the oldest, stodgiest, least-tattooed, and, again, poorest. (There is a hipster-mama circle in town that I don't quite belong to. They tend to be married to rock-n-roll show designers and producers. No joke! There's a firm here that does all the biggest rock tours. So these people are both rich AND cool.) So I felt wrong no matter which direction I looked.

But really, why should I care? I'm annoyed that I let all this get to me, and consume my and my family's energy at a time when we really don't have that much left over. Reader, all I can say in summary is that not all new initiatives work out as you'd hoped. Sometimes doing things that are outside your comfort zone results not in broadening the comfort zone but rather in reaffirming its boundaries. It was good that we tried it. And now I'd like someone to invite ME to something for a change, okay?

Gran to the rescue

My mom has been a huge help to us during these busy weeks. Sunday she fed us meatloaf, potatoes and green beans and provided a calm respite after Henry's birthday party. Monday she collected Agatha when she was dismissed at an odd time (still phasing-in!) during my class, then returned to watch both kids so Michael and I could attend the faculty meeting (and so I could take the minutes; I'm the faculty secretary again this year). Plus, she brought over leftovers: the meatloaf restyled into sandwiches with nice bread, the beans remade into three-bean salad, and the potatoes accompanied by a chopped onion, ready to saute into fried potatoes. So this was my delicious, mom-provided dinner plate last night, and much appreciated! Today she picked up Henry from school, took him out to lunch and to the toy store for his birthday. All in all, she is a capital Gran. Thank you, Mom!!!!

Crazy insane birthday party-- with weapons

This afternoon we had Henry's birthday party, with a "knights" theme. I think it went pretty well, although it teetered on the edge of chaos more than once. No one was seriously injured, no one's feelings seemed too badly hurt, and a lot of cake was eaten.
This is Sir Daniel, calling a halt to the knights on horseback. We outfitted the kids in armor, belts, shields, and Michael even made wooden swords which were awesome. Except we had not thought through the concept of arming several 5-7 year olds with wooden swords. We had to quietly hide them away about halfway through.

We'd asked the kids to bring a scooter or a bike, and the knights made two crusades around the block. There was a minor injury when Daniel wiped out on his bike, and the younger kids got left behind by the older ones, but all the knights did return safely to the house eventually.

We had a tournament, of course, featuring Tests of Skill, Speed, and Strength ("The three S's!" Daniel shouted.) Here is Michael setting up for the Test of Skill, knocking bottles over with a ball. (I had wanted to have a joust with foam pool noodles, giving each kid a target on his chest, but luckily Michael talked me out of it.)
And then, cake. These kids were definitely big, loud, and fast, and Michael and I decided we can't really do this again next year the same way. We just barely kept everyone in one piece, and by 4:30 I was anxiously watching the moments tick by slowly, waiting for parents to come take these children away before someone fell out of a tree or broke an arm (one boy did fall in the pond). Maybe a playground party next year?

Whining

No, not whining from the kids (actually, Agatha never whines, now that I think of it): whining from me. This work is really cutting into my free time! I have TOO MUCH to do and not enough time to do it, and it gives me a slightly out-of-control feeling that I do not like. For the blog record, here's the state of affairs in mid-September, a couple of weeks into the fall semester:

* I'm teaching the Survey of Western Art to 28 students, three times a week. Their first paper is due Friday, so I'll have 28 of those to grade over the weekend.

* I'm curating a show at the Quilt & Textile Museum downtown, which will open in March. I've never curated a show before. Also I know nothing (but am learning fast!) about Amish quilts. That class meets once per week and I have to find four or five good readings each week, read them, write up study questions, read them again, make slide presentations, and teach the class.

* Henry's in school 5 mornings and 2 afternoons, but Agatha has so far only spent a scattered hour per day with her teachers. So Michael, Mom and I are constantly juggling her. This means that I have very little time in the office beyond my teaching obligations.

* This weekend we're hosting a dinner party on Saturday for two new faculty members, and having a birthday party for Henry on Sunday afternoon. Also Monday morning I have to send special birthday snack to school for 22 children and an array of photos for his birthday ceremony.

* Next weekend we're hosting a fundraiser for the Art Museum at our house. 40 people are paying to come, there will be an art installation of cast plaster body parts in our living room and kitchen, and a dozen figure drawings in the dining room. Also we must provide all the food and drink. Also we did not finish the house projects we were hoping to, so the hallway still has two colors of trim paint, and the doors are off the old cabinet in the kitchen.

* Four days after that our fellowship applications are due. We have to get our provost to write a letter of support, which (we've learned) means we have to fill out many irrelevant forms. Plus write the 10-page essay, 3-page bibliography, and some other things I haven't figured out yet.

* The next weekend we are taking two giant busloads of students on a day-long trip to Washington DC. With our kids. So far we are the only faculty members on the bus.

* The next weekend Michael is gone all weekend for a conference in Brooklyn, and Mom is in Austin. (sigh)

* Two weekends after that, I'm giving a paper at the Art Institute of Chicago, at a conference in honor of my grad school advisor. Many mentors and colleagues will be in the conference and/or the audience. I'm presenting my new work. Which I have not written yet.

* I'm a room parent in both kids' classrooms.

All this stuff is good stuff-- great stuff. I'm swamped with fantastic opportunities in my work, teaching interesting classes, learning new things. The kids are flourishing and loving their school. (We are still having trouble with Henry's behavior, though, which definitely adds to our stress. More on that another day.) I'm just panicked about finding enough time in the day to meet my obligations. I could arrange for more childcare, but not only is that costly, I just don't like to be away from the kids much more than I already am. So this is clearly an internal struggle most of all.

Meanwhile, I've squandered 30 pre-dawn minutes writing this blog post when I could have been responding to students' email requests for me to give feedback on their paper drafts. Back to work, Mama!

Work

It's Labor Day, and we're back to work. After a year on sabbatical, it is exciting and a little overwhelming. With little or no childcare so far, our normal juggle has been exacerbated by having to factor in teaching classes, preparing syllabi, and shuttling the kids to their various phase-in school meetings. Tomorrow, it will get easier as Henry starts in on his regular schedule (five mornings plus two afternoons per week). His first day of kindergarten! He excited, but also a little puzzled. Although he knows he's starting kindergarten and he's been talking about it since last year, he doesn't quite get what's *new* about this year. I noticed he told his friend Frances that his teacher was named Katie-- that's the one new teacher he has, out of four, this year. I think he would like the drama of a new classroom for his big kindergarten year. Yesterday I took him out and bought him a shiny new scooter for kindergarten. It will help us zoom him to school and back while we walk alongside and push Agatha in the stroller. He's seeming to take to it quite well!

A beautiful, golden, Labor Day weekend. We spent a lot of time with our neighbors, on porches talking and at a block party. Our friend Eric visited and he and Michael worked on some woodworking projects. It was cool and fresh and sunny. I launched in with the Ancient Near East this morning in class, Michael met his Eakins seminar, and I planned my seminar on Amish quilts, which will meet for the first time tomorrow. School is in session!

Agatha's journey begins

contemplating the school building

welcome!

There are still vacation pictures I want to post, but today was a momentous day and must be marked: Agatha attended school for the first time. For Michael and me, who love school more than almost anything and have never actually left it, this is an important rite of passage. It was a 15-minute meeting with her new classroom and her three teachers, Dotty, Sybil, and Becky. True to her happy and curious disposition, she walked right in like she owned the place, played happily and chatted to her gentle, quiet teachers. We can't wait for next week!