I haven't written in so long. I think I've almost forgotten how to go about "blogging", but the past week has inspired me to give it a try.
Before I go any further,some of the faux-names in the blog have to be updated. The Husband remains The Husband. The Boy remains the Boy. Big Sis remains Big Sis. But I'm going to re-name the Rebel and Little One. I think they have graduated from their former aliases, so this is as good a time as any to re-name. The Rebel will now be called "New Mom"...pretty self-explanatory. Little One, who just turned 12, will now be known as the Pre-teen. Again, just changing with the times...
A few days ago, New Mom gave birth to my third grandchild. She was scheduled to be induced early in the morning, so the Pre-Teen and I journeyed to the hospital to wait it out. It was an exciting day, with a steady stream of family and friends stopping in to say hello and well-wish. Big Sis was waiting it out at home since she didn't want to subject little Buddha Boy (grandchild 2) to the germy hospital waiting room. New Mom's dad came about mid-day and brought Little Guy (grandchild 1) to wait on the arrival of his baby sister. Turns out he was more excited about playing paper football and constructing a sticker city than the birth of his sister...but when you are 5, you must have your priorities.
Anyway, over the course of 12 hours,I alternated between running back to sit and chat with New Mom when she felt like it, playing with Little Guy, taking the Preteen to the cafeteria for multiple snacks...and just watching as family after family came through, all there to celebrate the addition of a new baby to their family. I felt a bit like I was in the 'Friends' episode where Rachel is in labor, but mother after mother keeps being delivered before her. It was sort of a surreal day, filled with nervous anticipation. We knew that our new addition was to be a girl... a welcome addition after 2 boys. And most who came were focused on this. But for the mother of the New Mom, the day was more about worrying about New Mom. This is what happens I think when you are blessed with grandchildren while you still have young children. You are not able to let go of "mommyness" in exchange for 'grandmomminess". Good or bad, we are all kind of bound to where we are in the cycle of life. I am still in the throes of everyday mommydom. My day is structured around the physical needs of my 2 children at home (3 if you count The Husband) and the emotional needs of my 2 older girls. I am still several years away from what I would call the "check-off point"...or the moment when you realize that your children are self-sufficient, self-sustaining...and not in need of your worry every minute of the day.
This strange mid-stage of life is often a difficult one. While other mothers are lunching and shopping with older children and taking grand kids for overnights...I am still dropping off at school, helping with homework and hosting sleepovers. I feel the constant push and pull of trying to balance out being a mom with all that that entails...yet also being a "Noni", with all that that needs to entail.
The happiest moment of the day for me was not what you would expect. Seeing the newest addition for the first time...our Little Peanut...who is absolutely without a doubt, with apologies to every baby who has come before in my life...THE most beautiful baby I've ever seen...this was a joy and blessing. But to be honest, the most precious moment of the day was seeing New Mom....happy and healthy....
Because you see, no matter how I try, I cannot cross that thresh-hold yet. I saw New Mom's mother-in-law head straight for the Little Peanut, and I smiled because I knew she is there....she has left mommydom and entered grandmommydom.....I still have a ways to go....
So this week, when I journey to see the New Mom and the perfect Peanut, I will try not to wrestle with the fact that I am stuck between 2 stages of life. I will just try and embrace the blessing of being a part of both. In the words of the very wise Big Sis, "It's a compliment to be needed by so many people..."
Until tomorrow....
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Trials and Tribulations of the School Drop-Off line...
I've been brought out of semi-blog retirement today to discuss some pressing issues. It was brought to my attention this morning that the school pick-up line can be a frustrating, yet interesting, place each morning. I'm fairly sure a person's personality can be defined by their actions in this line. Now, to be fair, it must be stated that the person who brought this up to me was a male. And before I go any further, I need to "out" myself on some pick up line issues:
1) Each morning, I drop off my kids in the wrong line. We are suppose to go to another area, but due to my laziness, and my kid's insistence, I shoulder this guilt (and the occasional obscenity from friends when the line is backed up).
2) At least 40% of the drivers in drop-off line are men. Now this amazes me, because in our household, this has only happened on a few occasions. There was the time that I was in the hospital...and oh yes...the death in the family. To be fair,it makes sense in our family for me to do it. But even if it didn't, I'm fairly sure The Husband would not last a week. For one thing, the kids become extremely depressed when they hear that dad is going to do drop-off. The complaints range from "He'll make us late!" to "He doesn't know where to go". These are both valid points. The Husband is only familiar with the ballfield and the gymnasium. He sees no problem with dropping the kids wherever it is most convenient for him. If the line is too long, they may get dropped off at the Waffle House down the street and told to walk. If questioned on this, The Husband will mumble something about "building character" and "over-protective mom"...
Now that I have established my own drop-off shortcomings, I feel free to be critical of others.
First, we have the new people who have never done it before. They pull into the school and stop...and then proceed at 2 mph before finally rolling down their window and asking for help. On a 1 to 10 of irritation, they get a 5.
Next we have the mom's that insist on getting out of their car to help their kids out. I'm not talking about kids that have too much to unload, or kids that have broken legs...these are the mothers that just feel the need to stop the line while they give their kids final instructions for the day, sign any papers that need signing, or perhaps chat with the teachers on the curb. As they come around to get back in their car, they do the thing which seems to irritate the waiting line the most: The semi-crouch/wave/slight smile apology. Translated, this means, I realize that I have just been rude and caused you to wait...but by crouching and waving, it makes it all better. In the next 5 cars, the driver politely nods while cursing under his/her breath...
However petty it sounds, it must also be pointed out that the above moms generally wear a baseball cap. There must be some correlation to the action and the cap, but more research must be done in order to link these two.
Last but not least, there is the line-cutter. Having been raised by, and now married to this type...I am very familiar with this one. This is the driver who pretends not to see the line, and just heads to the most convenient spot to drop-off. These people feel no guilt...and they certainly don't feel the need to wave or smile....because their time is just more important than your time....
So that about wraps it up for drop-off line. I suppose it would be a bit more bearable if this was an opportunity for more quality conversation time with the kids while waiting...but unfortunately, it only extends the amount of time that I have to listen to some rap song talking about "my shawty" or "bottoms up"....
So until tomorrow...or next month...or the next time an irritation must be discussed...
1) Each morning, I drop off my kids in the wrong line. We are suppose to go to another area, but due to my laziness, and my kid's insistence, I shoulder this guilt (and the occasional obscenity from friends when the line is backed up).
2) At least 40% of the drivers in drop-off line are men. Now this amazes me, because in our household, this has only happened on a few occasions. There was the time that I was in the hospital...and oh yes...the death in the family. To be fair,it makes sense in our family for me to do it. But even if it didn't, I'm fairly sure The Husband would not last a week. For one thing, the kids become extremely depressed when they hear that dad is going to do drop-off. The complaints range from "He'll make us late!" to "He doesn't know where to go". These are both valid points. The Husband is only familiar with the ballfield and the gymnasium. He sees no problem with dropping the kids wherever it is most convenient for him. If the line is too long, they may get dropped off at the Waffle House down the street and told to walk. If questioned on this, The Husband will mumble something about "building character" and "over-protective mom"...
Now that I have established my own drop-off shortcomings, I feel free to be critical of others.
First, we have the new people who have never done it before. They pull into the school and stop...and then proceed at 2 mph before finally rolling down their window and asking for help. On a 1 to 10 of irritation, they get a 5.
Next we have the mom's that insist on getting out of their car to help their kids out. I'm not talking about kids that have too much to unload, or kids that have broken legs...these are the mothers that just feel the need to stop the line while they give their kids final instructions for the day, sign any papers that need signing, or perhaps chat with the teachers on the curb. As they come around to get back in their car, they do the thing which seems to irritate the waiting line the most: The semi-crouch/wave/slight smile apology. Translated, this means, I realize that I have just been rude and caused you to wait...but by crouching and waving, it makes it all better. In the next 5 cars, the driver politely nods while cursing under his/her breath...
However petty it sounds, it must also be pointed out that the above moms generally wear a baseball cap. There must be some correlation to the action and the cap, but more research must be done in order to link these two.
Last but not least, there is the line-cutter. Having been raised by, and now married to this type...I am very familiar with this one. This is the driver who pretends not to see the line, and just heads to the most convenient spot to drop-off. These people feel no guilt...and they certainly don't feel the need to wave or smile....because their time is just more important than your time....
So that about wraps it up for drop-off line. I suppose it would be a bit more bearable if this was an opportunity for more quality conversation time with the kids while waiting...but unfortunately, it only extends the amount of time that I have to listen to some rap song talking about "my shawty" or "bottoms up"....
So until tomorrow...or next month...or the next time an irritation must be discussed...
Thursday, December 16, 2010
The Flu and Exams....
It's exam week. In fact, it's been exam week for several weeks. First, The Boy brought home the "schedule". This is the supposed "schedule" that he constructs weeks before the exams start. This is the schedule he imagines in his mind that he will stick to in order to prepare for his exams. This is the schedule he commits to in front of his teachers and then brings home for me to sign...You know how months before Christmas, you imagine that you will be organized, buy all of your gifts early, send out lovely Christmas cards in advance, prepare a delicious menu weeks in advance?......Well, The Boy's schedule is very similar to this plan. It is made up of the best intentions....but perhaps a bit on the "wishful thinking" side...
Last weekend, he did an admirable job in fulfilling his "schedule". Amidst basketball games, family gatherings, etc., he managed to study for each and every exam. He even extracted my help for the french exam, impressing me with his sudden grasp of verb conjugation. I began to feel hopeful about exam week.....and then Sunday night, he had a little bit of a cough.
I should have seen it coming. Mother guilt allows me to blame myself for almost everything, and in this case, I was more than willing to shoulder the blame. The Boy's daily schedule is to come home from basketball practice,do homework, eat dinner...and head back out to play more basketball with his friends. This may or may not include a jacket, even in the coldest of weather. It also may include a wet head if he decided to shower early.
When I heard that small cough Sunday night, I pounced on him with vitamin c, tylenol, and even....some leftover amoxicillin that he had from his last sore throat. "Mom, I'm fine" he declared. But I was in full-on preventative mode. Monday morning, he felt kind of puny, but he headed to school for review day. I worried all day, only to be rewarded by him climbing in the car after school declaring "I don't feel so good." Now it seems that more that 20 people in his class were also experiencing the same symptoms (had they also been out playing ball without jackets?), but exams began Tuesday, like it or not.
Tuesday morning he sounded terrible, but he had no fever and he could walk and talk....and the English exam loomed. "I may have to call you after the exam" he declared. I took one look at him and stayed by my phone all morning. Sure enough, at 10:40, the call came. "Please come get me". He came home and got under a blanket. I took his temperature. 100. Ok, more tylenol. He took out some math papers to review, but quickly gave up. By evening time, the fever had crept up to 102. At 8:30, for what The Husband and I deemed to be the first time ever in his life....he headed up to bed of his own volition. "Not feelin so good"....
Well, this set off my mother bear instincts. I followed him up asking if I could do anything for him, only to be told that "I just need to sleep." At 11:00, I tip-toed into his room and took his temperature.....103. My heart lurched. Anything over 102, and I feel myself panic. I ran down and called the Dr., who basically told me to chill out and give him more tylenol. No panicking until 105. Don't you hate when the Dr. says stupid stuff like that?
I grabbed a pillow and headed for the couch. The Husband asked where I was going? Well....there are 18 stairs leading to our upstairs. So, in one of my motherly imaginings, The Boy wakes up delirious from fever and stumbles down the stairs. If I am on the couch, I can hear him and help him. Upon hearing this, The Husband shakes his head. He knows better than to try and reason with me at this point.
At 4:30, I sneak in and feel his forehead. Still warm, but better. "Do I need to go to school?" he asks. "Sleep" I tell him.
So today, he'll miss 2 exams. And tomorrow, probably another one. The school secretary assures me it will be ok. They may offer make-ups on Saturday. Or Monday. or after vacation.
Deep breath. It will all work out. I remember the quote about Life being what happens while you are making plans....so until tomorrow...or the next day...
Last weekend, he did an admirable job in fulfilling his "schedule". Amidst basketball games, family gatherings, etc., he managed to study for each and every exam. He even extracted my help for the french exam, impressing me with his sudden grasp of verb conjugation. I began to feel hopeful about exam week.....and then Sunday night, he had a little bit of a cough.
I should have seen it coming. Mother guilt allows me to blame myself for almost everything, and in this case, I was more than willing to shoulder the blame. The Boy's daily schedule is to come home from basketball practice,do homework, eat dinner...and head back out to play more basketball with his friends. This may or may not include a jacket, even in the coldest of weather. It also may include a wet head if he decided to shower early.
When I heard that small cough Sunday night, I pounced on him with vitamin c, tylenol, and even....some leftover amoxicillin that he had from his last sore throat. "Mom, I'm fine" he declared. But I was in full-on preventative mode. Monday morning, he felt kind of puny, but he headed to school for review day. I worried all day, only to be rewarded by him climbing in the car after school declaring "I don't feel so good." Now it seems that more that 20 people in his class were also experiencing the same symptoms (had they also been out playing ball without jackets?), but exams began Tuesday, like it or not.
Tuesday morning he sounded terrible, but he had no fever and he could walk and talk....and the English exam loomed. "I may have to call you after the exam" he declared. I took one look at him and stayed by my phone all morning. Sure enough, at 10:40, the call came. "Please come get me". He came home and got under a blanket. I took his temperature. 100. Ok, more tylenol. He took out some math papers to review, but quickly gave up. By evening time, the fever had crept up to 102. At 8:30, for what The Husband and I deemed to be the first time ever in his life....he headed up to bed of his own volition. "Not feelin so good"....
Well, this set off my mother bear instincts. I followed him up asking if I could do anything for him, only to be told that "I just need to sleep." At 11:00, I tip-toed into his room and took his temperature.....103. My heart lurched. Anything over 102, and I feel myself panic. I ran down and called the Dr., who basically told me to chill out and give him more tylenol. No panicking until 105. Don't you hate when the Dr. says stupid stuff like that?
I grabbed a pillow and headed for the couch. The Husband asked where I was going? Well....there are 18 stairs leading to our upstairs. So, in one of my motherly imaginings, The Boy wakes up delirious from fever and stumbles down the stairs. If I am on the couch, I can hear him and help him. Upon hearing this, The Husband shakes his head. He knows better than to try and reason with me at this point.
At 4:30, I sneak in and feel his forehead. Still warm, but better. "Do I need to go to school?" he asks. "Sleep" I tell him.
So today, he'll miss 2 exams. And tomorrow, probably another one. The school secretary assures me it will be ok. They may offer make-ups on Saturday. Or Monday. or after vacation.
Deep breath. It will all work out. I remember the quote about Life being what happens while you are making plans....so until tomorrow...or the next day...
Monday, August 16, 2010
In The Blink of an Eye...
The first day of school is always sort of an emotional day of reflection for me. Today was no different. As I dropped off my two middle-schoolers (though I will never be convinced that a 5th grader is a middle-schooler), I spent the drive back home reminiscing about 10 years worth of drop offs...
It was a mere 10 years ago that Big Sis had graduated from high school and was getting ready to start college. About this time, I had helped her move into her first apartment and prepare for her first day of classes...Ten years later, she is happily married, working full-time, and due to give birth to a little boy any minute...
It was a mere 10 years ago that The Senior had just begun middle school. About this time, she and bff Liz would board the school bus at 6:15 for the daily ride to school...Ten years later, she has graduated from college, works full-time, and is getting ready to get married this weekend to Kevin, who she would not meet for a few more years...
It was a mere 10 years ago that The Boy was...3 precious years old and the apple of his mommy's eye. About this time, he would toddle downstairs and play with his trains...Ten years later, his last weekend before school began consisted of baseball practice, going to the lake with friends, and mowing the grass last night...
It was a mere 10 years ago that Little One was...1 year old. About this time, she had just celebrated her first birthday in France, and she learned that her first few years would be spent travelling around...Ten years later, she spent her last weekend before school practicing softball, spending the night with her bff, and deciding how to wear her hair...
It was mere 10 years ago that The Husband was working all over the world. About this time, he might be in California or Australia, planning a race...or checking out a vineyard....Ten years later, he makes his daily 45 minute commute to his office...
It was mere 10 years ago that I was making the adjustment from full-time working mom with 3 kids, to part-time consulting mom with 3 kids and a baby. About this time, I would be calling mom, dad and mother-in-law to fill them in on the first day of school, and how baby was doing....Today, mom, dad and mother-in-law are gone. There are no phone calls to be made...
So this morning, on this first day of school, I'm listening to James Taylor sing about how "the secret of life is enjoying the passage of time"...and agreeing with this philosophy. The only constant in life is change...and love. And as I get ready to welcome a new grandchild....and a new son-in-law, I am acutely aware that each day is a gift of some kind. I pray that the "little ones" will enjoy their first day of school. Who knows what the day will bring...the year will bring...the next 10 years will bring...
It was a mere 10 years ago that Big Sis had graduated from high school and was getting ready to start college. About this time, I had helped her move into her first apartment and prepare for her first day of classes...Ten years later, she is happily married, working full-time, and due to give birth to a little boy any minute...
It was a mere 10 years ago that The Senior had just begun middle school. About this time, she and bff Liz would board the school bus at 6:15 for the daily ride to school...Ten years later, she has graduated from college, works full-time, and is getting ready to get married this weekend to Kevin, who she would not meet for a few more years...
It was a mere 10 years ago that The Boy was...3 precious years old and the apple of his mommy's eye. About this time, he would toddle downstairs and play with his trains...Ten years later, his last weekend before school began consisted of baseball practice, going to the lake with friends, and mowing the grass last night...
It was a mere 10 years ago that Little One was...1 year old. About this time, she had just celebrated her first birthday in France, and she learned that her first few years would be spent travelling around...Ten years later, she spent her last weekend before school practicing softball, spending the night with her bff, and deciding how to wear her hair...
It was mere 10 years ago that The Husband was working all over the world. About this time, he might be in California or Australia, planning a race...or checking out a vineyard....Ten years later, he makes his daily 45 minute commute to his office...
It was mere 10 years ago that I was making the adjustment from full-time working mom with 3 kids, to part-time consulting mom with 3 kids and a baby. About this time, I would be calling mom, dad and mother-in-law to fill them in on the first day of school, and how baby was doing....Today, mom, dad and mother-in-law are gone. There are no phone calls to be made...
So this morning, on this first day of school, I'm listening to James Taylor sing about how "the secret of life is enjoying the passage of time"...and agreeing with this philosophy. The only constant in life is change...and love. And as I get ready to welcome a new grandchild....and a new son-in-law, I am acutely aware that each day is a gift of some kind. I pray that the "little ones" will enjoy their first day of school. Who knows what the day will bring...the year will bring...the next 10 years will bring...
Friday, July 16, 2010
On The Lessons Learned at Summer Camp
The Boy returned from summer camp yesterday. After 5 days of intense baseball at Clemson, we picked up he and his BFF up and headed home. They were full of stories about what was evidently a rewarding week.
I had missed the drop-off last Sunday. The Husband was of the opinion that it should be a father/son deal...however, he was "ok with me coming". Despite this warm invitation, I had to skip due to a last minute pool-party invitation for Little One's softball team. I waited anxiously for the call from The Boy to let me know how his dorm room was, and how he felt. The Boy is always a bit short on the phone, so when he finally called, I couldn't really decipher his tone. He was physically prepared for the week, having run and worked out and played ball for several weeks. But the whole dorm situation was new. He wasn't too worried, as he had the BFF along, and together, they usually feel pretty invincible.
The Husband left him with 3 instructions: 1)Challenge yourself 2)Work harder than anyone else, and 3) Have fun when appropriate. I agreed with all of these, but I had a few other roll-your-eyes instructions that we won't discuss. Being mom, I am always concerned with character and kindness...but I digress...
The Boy called the first night with a report. Tired, sore, missing home. However, these words came in between laughing and disruptions from all around. I didn't sleep much that night, because as usual, I had been given something to worry about, so I did. During his break the next day, he called to say he was fine. He had a few complaints,but all-in-all, it was good. I asked to speak with BFF, who is like son #2. "Hello second mom" he began. "I really, really need apple juice. And the bathrooms are gross." Ok, all was fine.
The Husband and I decided to take a discreet trip up the next night to watch his game. His team would be playing in the stadium, and the Husband couldn't pass up a chance to watch his son play ball on the field of his alma mater. We got there a few minutes before the game and hid, so that The Boy wouldn't know we were there. This was going fine until BFF walked by on the way to his game. Little One and I injured ourselves diving behind a pole, but we kept our cover. Minutes later, we saw him. My heart skipped a beat. I looked over at The Husband and we smiled. As he ran on to the field and over to first base, it was an exciting moment. One of those "let me remember this" moments....The game flew by. The Boy played well, and finally, we decided to come out of hiding. He was standing on second base when he spotted us. He waved and waved. Even Little One had to laugh...
The next day was his birthday. We decided to make the long drive back up to see him again. We had decided to take the plunge and get him a phone. We weren't going to leave it with him, but we wanted him to see it. The Husband found him on the practice field when we got there and held up the phone....he nodded and smiled, a little distracted by the fact that he would be pitching that night. But on a break, he ran over to say hello and take a look. "I AM SO HAPPY!" he yelled. Of course, I told myself it was because we were there...but in truth...it was the phone.
That night, he called to tell us the schedule for the last day. There would be a full morning of drills, followed by an awards ceremony. "I won't win the pitching or hitting award" he said. "The older guys are better." However, he felt he had a shot at the hustle award. His coach had complimented him on his hard work and he was hopeful. In the end, he didn't get an award, but he was ok with it, knowing that he had given it his best effort.
On the drive home, we were entertained with stories of all-you-can eat cafeterias, gross communal showers,'hot chicks' from volleyball camp, and new friendships. There were the requisite not-so-great moments. As The Boy said, some people just will not play nice in the sandbox. This is our term for guys who are just not so nice. I use to advise The Boy to "leave the sandbox" when this happens. But as he gets older, I kind of agree with The Husband that it is time to throw sand back at someone if they can't be nice...
Thankfully, the good moments much outweighed the bad. Between the experience and the knowledge learned, it was great week. And it was a good learning experience for me, too. After all, this 'letting go' thing has to start sometime. You have to sit back and hope (and pray) that the advice you have given is taken. You have to hope that you have encouraged independence. And you have to hope that you have a little luck...and things go well...
I had missed the drop-off last Sunday. The Husband was of the opinion that it should be a father/son deal...however, he was "ok with me coming". Despite this warm invitation, I had to skip due to a last minute pool-party invitation for Little One's softball team. I waited anxiously for the call from The Boy to let me know how his dorm room was, and how he felt. The Boy is always a bit short on the phone, so when he finally called, I couldn't really decipher his tone. He was physically prepared for the week, having run and worked out and played ball for several weeks. But the whole dorm situation was new. He wasn't too worried, as he had the BFF along, and together, they usually feel pretty invincible.
The Husband left him with 3 instructions: 1)Challenge yourself 2)Work harder than anyone else, and 3) Have fun when appropriate. I agreed with all of these, but I had a few other roll-your-eyes instructions that we won't discuss. Being mom, I am always concerned with character and kindness...but I digress...
The Boy called the first night with a report. Tired, sore, missing home. However, these words came in between laughing and disruptions from all around. I didn't sleep much that night, because as usual, I had been given something to worry about, so I did. During his break the next day, he called to say he was fine. He had a few complaints,but all-in-all, it was good. I asked to speak with BFF, who is like son #2. "Hello second mom" he began. "I really, really need apple juice. And the bathrooms are gross." Ok, all was fine.
The Husband and I decided to take a discreet trip up the next night to watch his game. His team would be playing in the stadium, and the Husband couldn't pass up a chance to watch his son play ball on the field of his alma mater. We got there a few minutes before the game and hid, so that The Boy wouldn't know we were there. This was going fine until BFF walked by on the way to his game. Little One and I injured ourselves diving behind a pole, but we kept our cover. Minutes later, we saw him. My heart skipped a beat. I looked over at The Husband and we smiled. As he ran on to the field and over to first base, it was an exciting moment. One of those "let me remember this" moments....The game flew by. The Boy played well, and finally, we decided to come out of hiding. He was standing on second base when he spotted us. He waved and waved. Even Little One had to laugh...
The next day was his birthday. We decided to make the long drive back up to see him again. We had decided to take the plunge and get him a phone. We weren't going to leave it with him, but we wanted him to see it. The Husband found him on the practice field when we got there and held up the phone....he nodded and smiled, a little distracted by the fact that he would be pitching that night. But on a break, he ran over to say hello and take a look. "I AM SO HAPPY!" he yelled. Of course, I told myself it was because we were there...but in truth...it was the phone.
That night, he called to tell us the schedule for the last day. There would be a full morning of drills, followed by an awards ceremony. "I won't win the pitching or hitting award" he said. "The older guys are better." However, he felt he had a shot at the hustle award. His coach had complimented him on his hard work and he was hopeful. In the end, he didn't get an award, but he was ok with it, knowing that he had given it his best effort.
On the drive home, we were entertained with stories of all-you-can eat cafeterias, gross communal showers,'hot chicks' from volleyball camp, and new friendships. There were the requisite not-so-great moments. As The Boy said, some people just will not play nice in the sandbox. This is our term for guys who are just not so nice. I use to advise The Boy to "leave the sandbox" when this happens. But as he gets older, I kind of agree with The Husband that it is time to throw sand back at someone if they can't be nice...
Thankfully, the good moments much outweighed the bad. Between the experience and the knowledge learned, it was great week. And it was a good learning experience for me, too. After all, this 'letting go' thing has to start sometime. You have to sit back and hope (and pray) that the advice you have given is taken. You have to hope that you have encouraged independence. And you have to hope that you have a little luck...and things go well...
Thursday, July 8, 2010
On The Lessons Learned from Family Vacation...
We're settling back in after the family vacation. After a few aborted attempts to blog on the trip, I decided to wait awhile and gain some perspective. After all, sometimes the best conclusions can only be drawn after you've had time to look back, forget the bad, and concentrate on the good...
In retrospect, I think one of the lessons learned from a family vacation is that everyone is on their own agenda. Each of us has our own expectations of what we want to do or accomplish, and any problems arise when these expectations aren't met. I'm thinking that next time, a pre-vacation family meeting is in order. Everyone needs to lay out what they want to get out of the trip...This hopefully gives everyone an idea of what is to come...and eliminates those pesky "perfect fantasy" notions that some of us tend to hang our hat on before we leave...
On this past trip, we all knew that we were going to see a lot of baseball. This was fine with everyone. But let's review each family member's pre-vacation perspective:
Little One: Little One is fairly easy to please. She harbors a certain set of fears that many reading this blog know of, but cannot be stated for many reasons. As long as these set of fears are respected and avoided...she can pretty much hang with anything. Throw in an occasional stuffed animal and a couple nights of sleeping with mom, and she is good to go...
The Boy: The Boy is easy. It's all about the meals, the sleep, the psp, and the Braves game. The Boy is a planner. He likes to know each morning (which for him would start at 12:00 if he had his way) what and where his meals will be. If he knows this...and he can be assured of at least one barbecue burger, he's a happy camper. If he is allowed to bring his psp, he is even happier...and if you assure him that he gets to watch the Braves game...he has hit the Holy Grail....life is good.
Ok. Now The Husband. This is the tricky one. The Husband truly wants everyone to have a good time. Really. But he also needs for everyone to abide by his schedule. And you need to know up front that he is in a race. We have never quite figured out the specifics of this race, but suffice it to say that no matter where you are, YOU MUST HURRY. If you are in the airport, you must race to your gate, even if you are 2 hours early. If you are attending a game, you must race to and from your car. If you are unable to keep up with him, you are in deep trouble. This means everyone must memorize all of the specifics...where you are parked....where the hotel is....in case you get left behind. Also, if you are travelling with The Husband, you must be aware that there will be little "surprises" along the way. He may decide to alter the plan at any given moment...and you better be ready to make the adjustment. And one more thing....vacation does not mean that The Husband does not work. It is a given that he will be on the blackberry 3 hours a day. If it rings in the car, the noise level had better be lowered quickly. Once you arrive at your hotel, he WILL be on the computer for a minimum of 2 hours an evening. Do Not make the mistake of bringing this subject up, or you may get the "how do you think we can take this trip?" lecture...
Ok, that leaves me. Now, The Husband thinks I am going to act like a Saint and declare that all I want is for everyone to be happy and get along. But I have decided to come clean here. I DO want everyone to be happy. I do want everyone to get along. But I have a few more minor requests:
1) I need coffee within 45 minutes of my waking time. If I don't get this, I may be...grumpy.
2) I need some sort of breakfast-related item to eat before I can have lunch. The Husband and Boy skip breakfast and then eat Mexican for lunch. NO. I cannot do it. Please, an apple....a doughnut....something....
3) I hate to rush. I'm never late, and I can abide by a schedule, but it goes against my distracted nature to rush. I like to "saunter". The Husband may refer to this as "dilly-dallying",but who cares?
4)I do not like to pre-eat. This is the term I use to describe what The Husband and Boy do at a buffet. They eat enough so that they will not be hungry later on. Not so for me. I want to be hungry later on. I want to eat at the ball stadium. I want to stop 40 times and try different stuff...
5) I have to sleep. If I don't, I may be....grumpy. The Husband makes few allowances for things like sleep. This creates "issues".
In the end, it's all about negotiating different personalities, isn't it? Just because you are on vacation, it doesn't guarantee that every moment will be fun. Let's face it, when you put 4 personalities in a car and hotel room for 7 days, there are likely to be "issues". I think the way to deal with this is to let go of the idea of the "perfect" vacation. You have to remember that being in a different state or even country doesn't mean that we are different.
Patience...that is the key word. And negotiation. And thankfulness. Because not everyone gets to take a vacation, and so just the ability to take one should be a check in the "grateful' column...
All of this considered....it was a good trip....
In retrospect, I think one of the lessons learned from a family vacation is that everyone is on their own agenda. Each of us has our own expectations of what we want to do or accomplish, and any problems arise when these expectations aren't met. I'm thinking that next time, a pre-vacation family meeting is in order. Everyone needs to lay out what they want to get out of the trip...This hopefully gives everyone an idea of what is to come...and eliminates those pesky "perfect fantasy" notions that some of us tend to hang our hat on before we leave...
On this past trip, we all knew that we were going to see a lot of baseball. This was fine with everyone. But let's review each family member's pre-vacation perspective:
Little One: Little One is fairly easy to please. She harbors a certain set of fears that many reading this blog know of, but cannot be stated for many reasons. As long as these set of fears are respected and avoided...she can pretty much hang with anything. Throw in an occasional stuffed animal and a couple nights of sleeping with mom, and she is good to go...
The Boy: The Boy is easy. It's all about the meals, the sleep, the psp, and the Braves game. The Boy is a planner. He likes to know each morning (which for him would start at 12:00 if he had his way) what and where his meals will be. If he knows this...and he can be assured of at least one barbecue burger, he's a happy camper. If he is allowed to bring his psp, he is even happier...and if you assure him that he gets to watch the Braves game...he has hit the Holy Grail....life is good.
Ok. Now The Husband. This is the tricky one. The Husband truly wants everyone to have a good time. Really. But he also needs for everyone to abide by his schedule. And you need to know up front that he is in a race. We have never quite figured out the specifics of this race, but suffice it to say that no matter where you are, YOU MUST HURRY. If you are in the airport, you must race to your gate, even if you are 2 hours early. If you are attending a game, you must race to and from your car. If you are unable to keep up with him, you are in deep trouble. This means everyone must memorize all of the specifics...where you are parked....where the hotel is....in case you get left behind. Also, if you are travelling with The Husband, you must be aware that there will be little "surprises" along the way. He may decide to alter the plan at any given moment...and you better be ready to make the adjustment. And one more thing....vacation does not mean that The Husband does not work. It is a given that he will be on the blackberry 3 hours a day. If it rings in the car, the noise level had better be lowered quickly. Once you arrive at your hotel, he WILL be on the computer for a minimum of 2 hours an evening. Do Not make the mistake of bringing this subject up, or you may get the "how do you think we can take this trip?" lecture...
Ok, that leaves me. Now, The Husband thinks I am going to act like a Saint and declare that all I want is for everyone to be happy and get along. But I have decided to come clean here. I DO want everyone to be happy. I do want everyone to get along. But I have a few more minor requests:
1) I need coffee within 45 minutes of my waking time. If I don't get this, I may be...grumpy.
2) I need some sort of breakfast-related item to eat before I can have lunch. The Husband and Boy skip breakfast and then eat Mexican for lunch. NO. I cannot do it. Please, an apple....a doughnut....something....
3) I hate to rush. I'm never late, and I can abide by a schedule, but it goes against my distracted nature to rush. I like to "saunter". The Husband may refer to this as "dilly-dallying",but who cares?
4)I do not like to pre-eat. This is the term I use to describe what The Husband and Boy do at a buffet. They eat enough so that they will not be hungry later on. Not so for me. I want to be hungry later on. I want to eat at the ball stadium. I want to stop 40 times and try different stuff...
5) I have to sleep. If I don't, I may be....grumpy. The Husband makes few allowances for things like sleep. This creates "issues".
In the end, it's all about negotiating different personalities, isn't it? Just because you are on vacation, it doesn't guarantee that every moment will be fun. Let's face it, when you put 4 personalities in a car and hotel room for 7 days, there are likely to be "issues". I think the way to deal with this is to let go of the idea of the "perfect" vacation. You have to remember that being in a different state or even country doesn't mean that we are different.
Patience...that is the key word. And negotiation. And thankfulness. Because not everyone gets to take a vacation, and so just the ability to take one should be a check in the "grateful' column...
All of this considered....it was a good trip....
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Family Vacation.....
As the saying goes,"Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home." Or in my case, like my second home. A few days at Grandma's house after our week of vacation was just what I needed. It was an interesting week. The definition for the word vacation is "an extended period of time for pleasure, rest or relaxation." The rest and relaxation part did not apply to our trip. 7 days, 2 flights, 1500 miles of driving, 4 states, 8 baseball games, 2 memorials, 1 museum, 4 universities, 5 hotels...like I said, not much rest or relaxation, but there was pleasure along the way.
As with any vacation, there is always "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly". Whenever you put 4 personalities in a car and hotel room together for 7 days and nights, there are bound to be "issues". But let's start with the "Good"....
Everything baseball-related was terrific. We saw 4 major league games, 1 minor league game and 3 College World Series games. Yes, it was a little over-the-top, but it was fun to get to see the different stadiums. The Husband took some great pictures, The Boy is still convinced he wants to be a major league player, and Little One and I now know who has the best concession stands and cotton candy...
We also visited 4 university campuses: U of Texas, U of Oklahoma, TCU and Texas A&M. The Boy liked TCU and Oklahoma. Even Little One could see herself at Oklahoma...a surprisingly pretty and homey-looking campus. The Husband had planned for us to spend 2 days in Austin, but as we drove into the city and past the university football stadium, he said "That is not the main campus...just a satellite campus." The Boy and I looked at each other and shook our heads. "Look at the stadium. Holds at least 50,000" I noted. "Yeah dad, UT is in Austin". Still, The Husband insisted we were wrong....Of course, the next day when we drove to the campus, it turned out we were right. The Husband had to ask at least 5 people, somehow thinking that we had contacted everyone in Austin, and they were trying to fool him......Finally, when we walked into a campus store, he asked the guy behind the counter "Is this the main campus for UT?"....I wish you could have seen the look on the guy's face, surrounded by all of the UT merchandise. The Boy and I left the area in order to burst out laughing...
Later that day, we attended a minor league ball game. It was so much fun, and The Husband actually caught a foul ball. This made him a minor celebrity...and he proceeded to give autographs. He kept waiting for the announcer to praise him for his catch...but alas, it was a minor league game, so there was no announcer....
There is a story about spending hours on a bridge in Austin to see a million bats fly out at dusk. I won't tell the story because The Husband feels I embellish sometimes. I would like to say that I feel this is a myth...we were there from dusk to night time...and I believe we saw 4 pigeons....
The Husband had scheduled several trips to "Drive-Ins, Diners and Dives", but after driving a couple hours out of the way only to find one closed...and being totally disappointed by another...we sort of abandoned that little side-story. We had some really great meals, but The Boy continued his record of the most number of consecutive meals which include a barbecue burger and fries....
Next it was on to Dallas for the JFK museum by the "Grassy Knoll". This was very interesting, although The Boy felt that he already "knew it all from school"...and The Husband had deja-vu and realised he had taken the tour before with an ex-girlfriend. Of course he had no idea who, when or where...but that is normal with The Husband. There were many previous who's, when's and where's.....
Finally, we arrived at our main destination: the College World Series. Clemson, The Huband's alma mater, had made it to the final week...a really nice turn of events since you can't plan on things like that. Unfortunately, the temperature was hovering around 95. But we sat through 3 sweltering games and saw some great baseball. Unfortunately, Clemson lost...but still, it was a great experience.
Let me tip-toe around something for a moment: here is the problem at events such as these. The Husband is always in a hurry. He is also impatient. This does not bode well for any older people, handicapped people...or generally anyone who gets in his way. The Boy and I are just the opposite. We stroll. We get distracted. We apologize for everything. If you mix these two personalities together...you get trouble. Thank goodness for The Boy. He is forever the Mediator. He stays in the middle between me and The Husband and tries to slow him down...and speed me up. It's a thankless job...but he does it well.
Our last city was Kansas City. I love this city, and though we only had a short time there, we enjoyed it. But let me touch on another "issue". The Husband and Boy wanted to watch a ballgame on TV on a Saturday night. (Yes, you understand...after a week of 7 games, they had to watch another on TV). This delayed dinner until 9:00 on Saturday night in a city known for it's dining. Well, off we go at 9:00 to find a place. As previously discussed, The Husband does not like to wait. This means nowhere with a wait of more than....say 20 minutes. So here is what happens....The Husband drops me at the restaurant door (where there is already a line around the building) to ask how long the "wait" is....by the time I get back with the bad news...he has already driven a mile down the street due to traffic. This means that I literally have to sprint to catch the car. This little scenario plays out about 5 times. Finally, I fib and say that the wait is only 20 minutes so that I don't have to sprint anymore. Thankfully, we ended up at a great little Italian place and the wait wasn't too bad.....All's well that ends well...
And so we headed back home, going straight from the airport to another ballgame...The Boy wanted to see his beloved Braves. It was another hot afternoon, but So worth it to see The Boy have such a good time.
So that brings us to the end of the vacation blog. After a brief discussion with The Husband, I was forced to abandon and edit many stories. He feels that I often "create" or "tamper" with stories in the blog. I insist that this is not true. I feel that it is sometimes difficult to see the truth in print...but this is a subject for another day...
On a final note, I do want to say (under duress) that this vacation would not have been possible, except for the amazing sense of direction and driving skills of The Husband. You could drop this man anywhere, and he could find the nearest baseball stadium in 10 minutes. ( Of course, anybody in his way better darn well move out of the way, but anyhow....)
Thanks to The Boy for his sunny attitude...and to Little One for being such a trooper....
It's good to be home.
As with any vacation, there is always "The Good, The Bad and The Ugly". Whenever you put 4 personalities in a car and hotel room together for 7 days and nights, there are bound to be "issues". But let's start with the "Good"....
Everything baseball-related was terrific. We saw 4 major league games, 1 minor league game and 3 College World Series games. Yes, it was a little over-the-top, but it was fun to get to see the different stadiums. The Husband took some great pictures, The Boy is still convinced he wants to be a major league player, and Little One and I now know who has the best concession stands and cotton candy...
We also visited 4 university campuses: U of Texas, U of Oklahoma, TCU and Texas A&M. The Boy liked TCU and Oklahoma. Even Little One could see herself at Oklahoma...a surprisingly pretty and homey-looking campus. The Husband had planned for us to spend 2 days in Austin, but as we drove into the city and past the university football stadium, he said "That is not the main campus...just a satellite campus." The Boy and I looked at each other and shook our heads. "Look at the stadium. Holds at least 50,000" I noted. "Yeah dad, UT is in Austin". Still, The Husband insisted we were wrong....Of course, the next day when we drove to the campus, it turned out we were right. The Husband had to ask at least 5 people, somehow thinking that we had contacted everyone in Austin, and they were trying to fool him......Finally, when we walked into a campus store, he asked the guy behind the counter "Is this the main campus for UT?"....I wish you could have seen the look on the guy's face, surrounded by all of the UT merchandise. The Boy and I left the area in order to burst out laughing...
Later that day, we attended a minor league ball game. It was so much fun, and The Husband actually caught a foul ball. This made him a minor celebrity...and he proceeded to give autographs. He kept waiting for the announcer to praise him for his catch...but alas, it was a minor league game, so there was no announcer....
There is a story about spending hours on a bridge in Austin to see a million bats fly out at dusk. I won't tell the story because The Husband feels I embellish sometimes. I would like to say that I feel this is a myth...we were there from dusk to night time...and I believe we saw 4 pigeons....
The Husband had scheduled several trips to "Drive-Ins, Diners and Dives", but after driving a couple hours out of the way only to find one closed...and being totally disappointed by another...we sort of abandoned that little side-story. We had some really great meals, but The Boy continued his record of the most number of consecutive meals which include a barbecue burger and fries....
Next it was on to Dallas for the JFK museum by the "Grassy Knoll". This was very interesting, although The Boy felt that he already "knew it all from school"...and The Husband had deja-vu and realised he had taken the tour before with an ex-girlfriend. Of course he had no idea who, when or where...but that is normal with The Husband. There were many previous who's, when's and where's.....
Finally, we arrived at our main destination: the College World Series. Clemson, The Huband's alma mater, had made it to the final week...a really nice turn of events since you can't plan on things like that. Unfortunately, the temperature was hovering around 95. But we sat through 3 sweltering games and saw some great baseball. Unfortunately, Clemson lost...but still, it was a great experience.
Let me tip-toe around something for a moment: here is the problem at events such as these. The Husband is always in a hurry. He is also impatient. This does not bode well for any older people, handicapped people...or generally anyone who gets in his way. The Boy and I are just the opposite. We stroll. We get distracted. We apologize for everything. If you mix these two personalities together...you get trouble. Thank goodness for The Boy. He is forever the Mediator. He stays in the middle between me and The Husband and tries to slow him down...and speed me up. It's a thankless job...but he does it well.
Our last city was Kansas City. I love this city, and though we only had a short time there, we enjoyed it. But let me touch on another "issue". The Husband and Boy wanted to watch a ballgame on TV on a Saturday night. (Yes, you understand...after a week of 7 games, they had to watch another on TV). This delayed dinner until 9:00 on Saturday night in a city known for it's dining. Well, off we go at 9:00 to find a place. As previously discussed, The Husband does not like to wait. This means nowhere with a wait of more than....say 20 minutes. So here is what happens....The Husband drops me at the restaurant door (where there is already a line around the building) to ask how long the "wait" is....by the time I get back with the bad news...he has already driven a mile down the street due to traffic. This means that I literally have to sprint to catch the car. This little scenario plays out about 5 times. Finally, I fib and say that the wait is only 20 minutes so that I don't have to sprint anymore. Thankfully, we ended up at a great little Italian place and the wait wasn't too bad.....All's well that ends well...
And so we headed back home, going straight from the airport to another ballgame...The Boy wanted to see his beloved Braves. It was another hot afternoon, but So worth it to see The Boy have such a good time.
So that brings us to the end of the vacation blog. After a brief discussion with The Husband, I was forced to abandon and edit many stories. He feels that I often "create" or "tamper" with stories in the blog. I insist that this is not true. I feel that it is sometimes difficult to see the truth in print...but this is a subject for another day...
On a final note, I do want to say (under duress) that this vacation would not have been possible, except for the amazing sense of direction and driving skills of The Husband. You could drop this man anywhere, and he could find the nearest baseball stadium in 10 minutes. ( Of course, anybody in his way better darn well move out of the way, but anyhow....)
Thanks to The Boy for his sunny attitude...and to Little One for being such a trooper....
It's good to be home.
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