Transitions

Change is hard. I should know. If we're taking stock, this year we:

• Moved cross-country
• Left two great jobs
• Started three (and quit one) ok jobs
• Transferred Edie's day care
• Bought a house
• Bought a second car
• Adopted a cat
• Got accepted to grad program (Dave)

Damn, son! Moving alone can test your will (and the best of relationships), so it's no surprise that a day without major upheaval is just fine with me. But, we are heading into one more transition: we're taking Edie out of her beloved day care.

Between Dave and my mom's teaching schedules, they can watch Edie this summer. And they want to spend time with her. Her personality is becoming more apparent by the day; she's excited about the world (the moon, bubbles, our cat's whereabouts), sings along loudly to our bedtime songs, and recently started calling me "Shawna" (cute but strange).

And saving a couple months of childcare tuition is a no-brainer.

I've mentioned our provider Nanny before. She is a wonderful, loving person who's run an in-home daycare for 30 years. She has a system down pat and lives for her daycare kids. Edie loves going to Nanny's, where she plays with her boyfriend Griffin ("Griffy") and Isaac. They ride in the "choo choo car", go to story time at the library, and eat fruit salad like it's going out of style. Beyond that, Nanny has every Little Tikes ride-on toy in their catalog, from 1980s vintages to present-day models. We can't hold a candle to her toy inventory (but honestly, I don't want to).

Dave and I wanted to keep the door open to return in the fall, but Nanny couldn't guarantee our spot would be held without paying for it. It just didn't pencil out, so we're back to the drawing board, looking for caregivers closer to home and open later and more consistently, so that we can accommodate Dave's upcoming schedule, juggling teaching with his UConn program to become a school administrator. Oh yeah, and my crazy work hours too.


I told Edie that we are saying goodbye to Nanny this week. I got sad writing Nanny's last check yesterday. You'd think I'd be used to change by now, but it's hard to say goodbye with confidence that we're making the right decision. To those who don't have kids in daycare, it's hard to fathom what the big deal is, but good care is hard to come by, and good affordable care is elusive at best. I have to believe that when one door closes, another one opens, and that we'll find another great place. Maybe even one down the street?


In a way, I look forward to a time when our life will settle down a bit, but the constant change and commotion that comes with being a parent is strangely comforting, and keeps boredom at bay. Note: these pics aren't from daycare, they're of recent play times with cousin Camden and friend Tommy!

Live Free or Die

My friend Eric owns a frame shop in town. He recently set up the shop's web site, built on my fave software WordPress, and has integrated the current brick-and-mortar art exhibit with his site. Eric did an open call for reviewers, and considering I like art and writing, I dove right in. My family and I rubbed elbows with the punkerati on a Friday night, and here's what I wrote. You can also find this review on the EBK Picture Framing web site, as well as a link to the Hartford Courant's review. If you're a local, definitely check out the show.

Live free or die
Armed with the time and inspiration to create, and angst bubbling forth, Tim Wengertsman presents a body of woodblock prints rich with the iconography of his punk-rock tribe. Wengertsman's steadfast perspective on the world is as black-and-white as the palette of his poster-sized prints.

Wengertsman's take on being hard-working but broke, accepted yet afflicted, and boozy flood the page. No space is left untouched. Try not to get lost in the constant patterns and minute details of his story. The fine linework and repetitive icons bring an assuredness to his raw emotions, worn like a sewn-on patch on his sleeve. Joy may not be apparent in his message, but the act of creating these pieces clearly brings peace. Relying on a catalog heavy with skulls, noserings, dogs, cheap beer, and bikes, he's not afraid to broach the heavier subjects of gender and marriage equality, family, religion, and the disparity between the haves and have-nots. PUNKISM affirms that Wengertsman's been shaping his manifesto, and finetuning his iconography, for some time.

Perhaps fueling his palpable aggression, the artist has a posse of punk rock brothers and sisters, who dress and ride and rock-out alike. Together with his undeclared self-portraiture, they are undoubtedly the subjects of these prints. The opening at EBK Picture Framing was brimming with a tattooed crew, outfitted with ripped tights and studded denim. In a world of No-Smoking on shopping mall grounds, this crowd still steps outside the gallery to smoke a butt, and comiserate. They have each other. They don't need you.

The artist may be broke, but he's young and free. By working a job that provides the space to execute his work and the flexibility to tour with his band, he may not be able to buy much more than a six-pack of Pabst, but at the end of the day, he's free to ride his bike, carouse with his punk rock family, and create a solid, politically-charged show of art.