Susan's Blog

Thursday, August 9, 2007

Eine Kleine Nachtmusik

So the last two nights I have been trying to do what a therapist suggested: at dinner, each of us tells the others one thing he/me did that was good today. The first time I did it, Ned wasn’t there for dinner, and Max rolled his eyes. But we each managed to crap something out. I had prompted Nat a little bit, to talk about art class, which he loves. I loved watching Ben and Max pay attention to Nat, loved the surprise that flickered through their eyes as he expressed himself, a bright, brief flash of son-shine.

I also am amazed at how it actually works, and makes it feel like a Real Family Dinner. It is utterly ironic, because it starts with a strange and marked effort, but it is similar to fake laughter, where it begins totally forced and artificial, but always ends up as the real thing. The first night we then went off on a tangent about their cousin Paul and what to get him for his birthday (he is such a Leo, even down to the mane of blond curls surrounding his head). I repeated a few salient details to Nat, to keep him a part of things.

Last night, I made us do it again, and Ned looked at me like I was nutz. (not that there’s anything wrong with it) But Ben looked a little excited, because he could think of something he wanted to tell. I helped Nat talk about his community outing at school where he had ordered and purchased chocolate ice cream. I talked about the highly animated argument/great conversation I had with my agent, Ned talked about some stuff he’d accomplished at work (sorry, it did not compute), and right now I can’t remember what the other two talked about, but they talked. Music to my ears. As stilted as the thing was, it really, truly made me feel good.


Hi Susan, I stumbled onto your blog while bored at work. In some of your posts you seem kind of down, so I wrote this little poem about what happened to me today to cheer you up.

Today on my bike there was this bee
Who had the most wonderful plan, you see
His idea of sports
was to fly up my shorts
And sting me in the bourgeoisie

When he flew back out and turned about
The picnic was in serious doubt
of the biker who jumped off and into the grass
to furiously swat his very own a–

The bee filled with glee is back the hive
Telling all the workers about the trou-dive
I stand here considering with the patience of Spock,
how to sit in a chair on just one buttock

-Kevin from Fairport, NY

— added by Anonymous on Friday, August 10, 2007 at 4:22 pm

Excellent, Kevin from NY! Now I am inspired, and smiling, to write something funny…

— added by Susan Senator on Friday, August 10, 2007 at 4:31 pm

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