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.
Friday, June 25, 2010
On Why I Just Can't Joke About it Yet...
I know. I had promised to blog all week. A sort of daily vacation report. I keep getting messages asking for some details. But there are 2 good reasons that I haven't. The first is the practical one. This is WAY different than the beach trips where I have the whole morning to sit on the balcony in my swimsuit and write. This morning is the first morning on the trip that we have not gotten up early and left our hotel for our next destination. In the first 2 days, we saw 3 baseball games, a museum and 2 historical sites. We literally crawled into our beds in a new hotel each night.
The second reason is more personal, but with my apologies to those who were looking for some sarcasm...here goes:
We headed into Arlington Park Tuesday night to see the Rangers play. It had been a long day, and we were all hot, tired and a little grumpy (Ok, maybe it was just me). I asked The Husband if we could eat in the Grill that overlooked the park and watch batting practice to avoid the heat. You had to have a certain level of tickets to get into the Grill, and thankfully, ours were good. As we walked in, we looked for a table by the window so we could watch. There were none available, so we sort of frustratingly walked back towards the back. Suddenly, a man sitting alone at table for 4 looked up at me and said, "Here, take this one." The Husband said " No man, keep it". But he insisted, saying he would grab one alone in the back, and he took off. We sat down gratefully, and The Husband sent a beer to his table. A few minutes later, he walked over and said thanks. He explained that he was an active duty soldier. He trains our troops before they are sent overseas. In his spare time, he coaches his local high school football team in Iowa. For Father's Day, his wife had given him one ticket so he could come to the game and enjoy his beloved baseball. He was so excited that you could just feel it.
We chatted with him for a while, and then he went back to his table. I looked at the kids...and then unfortunately, I launched into the "Mom lecture" on thankfulness and gratefulness and being a little spoiled. I was actually lecturing myself. The kids were very impressed by this man. The Boy suggested we ask him to eat with us, but The Husband pointed out that he looked very content eating his hot dog, drinking his beer, and reading his program. On his way out, He thanked Us again...
And so today, as we prepare to got to the College World Series and watch The Husband's Alma mater that has amazingly made it to the finals on the day we are here...I am determined to overlook the 95 degree heat and be thankful...
But you know, by the time I get home next week, I am sure I will be ready to discuss the realities of the trip. From waiting on a bridge for hours for bats that never came...to The Husband catching a foul ball at a game and deciding to give autographs...there will be plenty to talk about.
But for today....only a sincere sense of thankfulness for a vacation that may have been different, but terrific...
With 3 days and 4 games to go.....
The second reason is more personal, but with my apologies to those who were looking for some sarcasm...here goes:
We headed into Arlington Park Tuesday night to see the Rangers play. It had been a long day, and we were all hot, tired and a little grumpy (Ok, maybe it was just me). I asked The Husband if we could eat in the Grill that overlooked the park and watch batting practice to avoid the heat. You had to have a certain level of tickets to get into the Grill, and thankfully, ours were good. As we walked in, we looked for a table by the window so we could watch. There were none available, so we sort of frustratingly walked back towards the back. Suddenly, a man sitting alone at table for 4 looked up at me and said, "Here, take this one." The Husband said " No man, keep it". But he insisted, saying he would grab one alone in the back, and he took off. We sat down gratefully, and The Husband sent a beer to his table. A few minutes later, he walked over and said thanks. He explained that he was an active duty soldier. He trains our troops before they are sent overseas. In his spare time, he coaches his local high school football team in Iowa. For Father's Day, his wife had given him one ticket so he could come to the game and enjoy his beloved baseball. He was so excited that you could just feel it.
We chatted with him for a while, and then he went back to his table. I looked at the kids...and then unfortunately, I launched into the "Mom lecture" on thankfulness and gratefulness and being a little spoiled. I was actually lecturing myself. The kids were very impressed by this man. The Boy suggested we ask him to eat with us, but The Husband pointed out that he looked very content eating his hot dog, drinking his beer, and reading his program. On his way out, He thanked Us again...
And so today, as we prepare to got to the College World Series and watch The Husband's Alma mater that has amazingly made it to the finals on the day we are here...I am determined to overlook the 95 degree heat and be thankful...
But you know, by the time I get home next week, I am sure I will be ready to discuss the realities of the trip. From waiting on a bridge for hours for bats that never came...to The Husband catching a foul ball at a game and deciding to give autographs...there will be plenty to talk about.
But for today....only a sincere sense of thankfulness for a vacation that may have been different, but terrific...
With 3 days and 4 games to go.....
Friday, June 18, 2010
The Texas Crawl...Pre-Trip
Well, it's almost here. Sunday morning marks the beginning of the "Texas Crawl". This is when we begin our trip that will take us to Houston, Austin, Dallas,Topeka, Wichita, Omaha and Kansas City. We will see 6 baseball games in 7 days, including the College World Series. The bags are packed (almost), the tickets are bought (more on that later) and the hotels are booked (not exactly).
The Husband began suggesting this trip a couple months back. His favorite description of it included the terms "something different" and "a change of pace". I threw out the idea of a trip to Paris...now this would be a change of pace. Especially after our year of baseball and softball tournaments. But The Husband really wanted to see that College World Series, and also some other stadiums. Let me me quickly state that I am not martyr in this situation. A few people have said "Oh you are such a good sport" or "Oh you are such a trooper"...and though I love these accolades....they are not quite true. Frankly, I love baseball, too. If you read the blog, you know that growing up with 3 brothers and a father who was president of the Hawks (basketball), my childhood was consumed with sports. We lived at the baseball field or the basketball arena...so I am very comfortable at either place. A few summers ago when we took our disastrous trip to Connecticut and New York, it was my idea to go to Yankees stadium one more time before they tore it down....so my point is, don't feel sorry for me for this part of it...
There are many things to be thankful about regarding this trip. Number one...I get my own carry-on bag. Usually I have to share with Little One, but The Husband agreed to all of us having our own. The down-side of this is that this trip really does not require anything besides t-shirts and tennis shoes. (Ok, I did sneak in a t-shirt dress and sandals...)
Secondly, I have heard and read that Austin is a neat city. I am not a cowboy boot or hat-wearing type girl, but I am always open to new things. A friend sent me a link to the Blanton Museum there which looks fabulous....and despite The Husband's "We don't want to overwhelm the kids with that stuff" comment (really...6 games in 6 days...and we don't want to overwhelm anyone?), I will be searching this place out.
Next, The Husband loves that Food Network show "Diners,Drive-ins and Dives". Every night about 10:00, our tv ends up on this channel. Turns out there are about 5 of these places within a 7 hour detour of where we are going....and we will be hitting them all. This works out great for the Husband and The Boy, who have never met a plate of deep fried food they haven't loved. Maybe not so great for me and The Little One who really like to have an occasional vegetable or fruit...
The hotel selection was another debate. I am not high maintenance....but I do like clean and convenient. I am not big on driving 4 hours out of the way for anything either. And I cannot be plied with the comment "but they have a buffet breakfast". This caused a few bumps in the road, but all in all, I am happy with the ones I booked. The Husband has decided to leave a few to chance....this leads me to picture us on the side of the road in our car....
Last night, The Husband explained to me that the tickets we have to the College World Series do not actually guarantee us a seat. They only guaranteed us the right to line up outside the stadium after midnight and hope for a spot. Also, The Husband said, if you don't get in, you can watch on a big screen outside. Let's review....a trip across the US to see 2 games....and the chance of not getting in. Before the night was over...we had reserved seats.
So here we are, 2 days out from the big trip. I am prepared and excited. A friend has suggested that I re-watch "Family Vacation" with Chevy Chase to prepare. Another friend reminded me to pack the Tums. Brother-in-law merely wrote "t-shirts and sunscreen"...
I know there will be lessons to be learned on this trip. But you know, it is indeed a "Family Vacation", with all of the memories, good and bad, that go with those. I am prepared to be thankful and have a great time...
Yee Haa....Texas bound....I'll keep you posted....
The Husband began suggesting this trip a couple months back. His favorite description of it included the terms "something different" and "a change of pace". I threw out the idea of a trip to Paris...now this would be a change of pace. Especially after our year of baseball and softball tournaments. But The Husband really wanted to see that College World Series, and also some other stadiums. Let me me quickly state that I am not martyr in this situation. A few people have said "Oh you are such a good sport" or "Oh you are such a trooper"...and though I love these accolades....they are not quite true. Frankly, I love baseball, too. If you read the blog, you know that growing up with 3 brothers and a father who was president of the Hawks (basketball), my childhood was consumed with sports. We lived at the baseball field or the basketball arena...so I am very comfortable at either place. A few summers ago when we took our disastrous trip to Connecticut and New York, it was my idea to go to Yankees stadium one more time before they tore it down....so my point is, don't feel sorry for me for this part of it...
There are many things to be thankful about regarding this trip. Number one...I get my own carry-on bag. Usually I have to share with Little One, but The Husband agreed to all of us having our own. The down-side of this is that this trip really does not require anything besides t-shirts and tennis shoes. (Ok, I did sneak in a t-shirt dress and sandals...)
Secondly, I have heard and read that Austin is a neat city. I am not a cowboy boot or hat-wearing type girl, but I am always open to new things. A friend sent me a link to the Blanton Museum there which looks fabulous....and despite The Husband's "We don't want to overwhelm the kids with that stuff" comment (really...6 games in 6 days...and we don't want to overwhelm anyone?), I will be searching this place out.
Next, The Husband loves that Food Network show "Diners,Drive-ins and Dives". Every night about 10:00, our tv ends up on this channel. Turns out there are about 5 of these places within a 7 hour detour of where we are going....and we will be hitting them all. This works out great for the Husband and The Boy, who have never met a plate of deep fried food they haven't loved. Maybe not so great for me and The Little One who really like to have an occasional vegetable or fruit...
The hotel selection was another debate. I am not high maintenance....but I do like clean and convenient. I am not big on driving 4 hours out of the way for anything either. And I cannot be plied with the comment "but they have a buffet breakfast". This caused a few bumps in the road, but all in all, I am happy with the ones I booked. The Husband has decided to leave a few to chance....this leads me to picture us on the side of the road in our car....
Last night, The Husband explained to me that the tickets we have to the College World Series do not actually guarantee us a seat. They only guaranteed us the right to line up outside the stadium after midnight and hope for a spot. Also, The Husband said, if you don't get in, you can watch on a big screen outside. Let's review....a trip across the US to see 2 games....and the chance of not getting in. Before the night was over...we had reserved seats.
So here we are, 2 days out from the big trip. I am prepared and excited. A friend has suggested that I re-watch "Family Vacation" with Chevy Chase to prepare. Another friend reminded me to pack the Tums. Brother-in-law merely wrote "t-shirts and sunscreen"...
I know there will be lessons to be learned on this trip. But you know, it is indeed a "Family Vacation", with all of the memories, good and bad, that go with those. I am prepared to be thankful and have a great time...
Yee Haa....Texas bound....I'll keep you posted....
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
She'll Always Have Paris...
One of Big Sis's friends e-mailed me over the weekend. She and her husband were in Switzerland visiting her in-laws, and they had been gifted with a 2 night trip to Paris. This was to be her first trip there, and she wanted to know what I thought she should see or do.
My first thought was, how lucky! To have the opportunity to take a quick 2 night, romantic trip to Paris is just amazing. Then I tried to give it some serious thought. After all, she hadn't been there before, and I wanted her to get the best she could out of her two days. I thought back to my first trip there years ago, taken with my sister-in-law. After years of studying french and dreaming of Paris, I had asked her to join me. In addition to her desire to see the City of Light, she wanted to retrace her father's steps during the war. He had lived right outside of Paris for a time, and she wanted to see if we could track down the house where he had stayed. This gave our trip a neat framework. We were there for a week,so we would have a chance to see the "biggies", including the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame. Given my love of art and fashion, I also wanted to see the Louvre and a few of the couture shops.
I remember flying over the city right before we landed and seeing the Eiffel Tower in the distance. I had tears in my eyes, tears that would reappear many times over the next 7 days. As I thought about what to suggest to A. for her 2 day trip, I tried to remember what had meant the most to me during my stay. Of course I loved seeing the Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame....but the most precious memories were not of actual sights. The first morning there , when our breakfast was delivered to our room, I can still picture it. A perfectly set tray of croissants, espresso, fruit, and tiny jars of honey and jam, of which I would allow myself one so that I could stash the others to bring home, hoping to bring into my life a bit of Paris. The next memory which stood out was standing in front of the American Embassy trying to take a picture (sister-in-law's dad had been there), and being told by gendarmes that we were not allowed to photograph the Embassy. These same gendarmes were not allowed to be photographed, but they discreetly posed for us when we hid behind trees and snapped away.
My next best memory would be purchasing a pair of pink suede boots in a shop called Ines de ls Fressange. Ines was a famous model for Chanel, and she had opened a small shop of beautiful well-made clothes with prices that were more approachable than Chanel. As soon as I spotted these boots (in the sale section no less), I knew I had to have them. 20 years later, they sit on my shelf, still looking like new despite years of wear.
And lastly, the most haunting memory is taking the train outside of Paris to search for the house of my S-I-L's father. This required a bit of courage, because we would be totally dependent on my french to get us around and ask the pertinent questions. My french was certainly good enough, but my courage was iffy. But after a few hours of scouring neighborhoods and asking questions, we found what we thought was the house. My sister-in-law had tears in her eyes. I did too. It was a magical moment in life.
So as I visited memories, I tried to remember that Paris is more than just the museums and the Tower. Paris, for me at least, is a way of life. So while I suggested seeing the Louvre and the Tuilleries, I also suggested just taking the time to sit in a cafe and have an espresso or a glass of wine and just watch the people walk by. Because after all, it is the small moments that are sometimes the most meaningful...
I wish A. a lovely trip...I hope that 20 years from now, she will look back and feel the way I did when I think of my first trip there...
My first thought was, how lucky! To have the opportunity to take a quick 2 night, romantic trip to Paris is just amazing. Then I tried to give it some serious thought. After all, she hadn't been there before, and I wanted her to get the best she could out of her two days. I thought back to my first trip there years ago, taken with my sister-in-law. After years of studying french and dreaming of Paris, I had asked her to join me. In addition to her desire to see the City of Light, she wanted to retrace her father's steps during the war. He had lived right outside of Paris for a time, and she wanted to see if we could track down the house where he had stayed. This gave our trip a neat framework. We were there for a week,so we would have a chance to see the "biggies", including the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame. Given my love of art and fashion, I also wanted to see the Louvre and a few of the couture shops.
I remember flying over the city right before we landed and seeing the Eiffel Tower in the distance. I had tears in my eyes, tears that would reappear many times over the next 7 days. As I thought about what to suggest to A. for her 2 day trip, I tried to remember what had meant the most to me during my stay. Of course I loved seeing the Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, Notre Dame....but the most precious memories were not of actual sights. The first morning there , when our breakfast was delivered to our room, I can still picture it. A perfectly set tray of croissants, espresso, fruit, and tiny jars of honey and jam, of which I would allow myself one so that I could stash the others to bring home, hoping to bring into my life a bit of Paris. The next memory which stood out was standing in front of the American Embassy trying to take a picture (sister-in-law's dad had been there), and being told by gendarmes that we were not allowed to photograph the Embassy. These same gendarmes were not allowed to be photographed, but they discreetly posed for us when we hid behind trees and snapped away.
My next best memory would be purchasing a pair of pink suede boots in a shop called Ines de ls Fressange. Ines was a famous model for Chanel, and she had opened a small shop of beautiful well-made clothes with prices that were more approachable than Chanel. As soon as I spotted these boots (in the sale section no less), I knew I had to have them. 20 years later, they sit on my shelf, still looking like new despite years of wear.
And lastly, the most haunting memory is taking the train outside of Paris to search for the house of my S-I-L's father. This required a bit of courage, because we would be totally dependent on my french to get us around and ask the pertinent questions. My french was certainly good enough, but my courage was iffy. But after a few hours of scouring neighborhoods and asking questions, we found what we thought was the house. My sister-in-law had tears in her eyes. I did too. It was a magical moment in life.
So as I visited memories, I tried to remember that Paris is more than just the museums and the Tower. Paris, for me at least, is a way of life. So while I suggested seeing the Louvre and the Tuilleries, I also suggested just taking the time to sit in a cafe and have an espresso or a glass of wine and just watch the people walk by. Because after all, it is the small moments that are sometimes the most meaningful...
I wish A. a lovely trip...I hope that 20 years from now, she will look back and feel the way I did when I think of my first trip there...
Friday, May 28, 2010
If You Don't Leave, You Can't Come back...
Here is the thing. If you leave without making a big deal out of it, then you are able to sneak back for a visit every now and then, right? It's been several weeks since my "final" blog, and in that time, an unbelievable amount of life has happened. At first, I continued to construct the blog in my mind, even though I wasn't writing it. It was a relief not to have to take the time to actually write it down. But the last few days, I missed it. Not the result or the feedback, which is what I expected to miss, but the act of putting it all into words. So over the summer, I've decided to jump back into the blog. I don't know how often. I guess I'll just see if anything interesting happens...
Today was the last day of school. The last few weeks have been a blur. 2 baseball tournaments, 1 softball tournament,a play, 2 dance recitals...and an exchange student from Paris. The last was by far the most rewarding, but I'll save that for another day.
This morning was not unlike many recent mornings in our house. After letting Little One and the Boy stay up way too late, their grumpiness was overwhelming. I thought I had prepared for this...you know, it's always my thought process that being totally prepared insures a smooth morning. Why do I never learn my lesson? When you have a 12 year old boy and 10 year old girl involved, mornings are never smooth sailing...
The Boy had to wear a shirt and tie for Honors Day. I had the shirt ironed and the tie and belt and shoes laying out....what I didn't expect is that the pants that had fit 2 months ago would now hover somewhere around the ankles. A year ago, The Boy would have said "they're fine, Mom". Not anymore. Out came the ironing board and a search for the proper fit.
Little One was having her Field Day. This required athletic shorts and a t-shirt. You'd think this would be easy....you'd think. Thankfully, she had laid it all out on her bed the night before. Unfortunately, the hair was not cooperating.Coupled with the fact that she could not find a library book that should have been turned in a week ago, she was a mess.
Normally, I roll my eyes and shake my head, and we head out the door at about the same time each day. But this morning, I was suppose to have breakfast with 2 friends to celebrate our last morning in lower school drop-off line.I hadn't let myself think about this too deeply...after all, a few weeks ago I had witnessed The Senior graduate from college. The fact that I would have 2 middle schoolers next year hadn't settled in. But if there was a way to find humor in this, these two would find it...so I was determined to be on time.
As I dropped them off and watched Little One enter the building for what would be her last time, I wasn't sure what to feel. Happy? Relieved? Sad? Not really any of the above. During our breakfast, my friends and I managed to discuss everything BUT this ending, so I was still left to ponder it throughout the day. I picked the kids up from school, and we were all strangely quiet. We headed to our traditional Last Day of School meal at the Pub near Grandma's. This has been a favorite with the kids since they were toddlers. The Husband joined us....and as I looked around table, I was once again reminded of how fast is all goes. The boy looked over and winked at me, like he was reading my mind. "Late bedtime tonight, right mom?" Well of course. Little One continued to plot out our next few days.
A few days at Grandma's house is always the cure for everything...I've been at this road in life before, but I won't be here again. It's an interesting place. I'm not really one to sit still and reflect...I'm usually planning my next step...But today, it's worth taking a moment to take it all in....
The last day of school is also the first day of summer....
Today was the last day of school. The last few weeks have been a blur. 2 baseball tournaments, 1 softball tournament,a play, 2 dance recitals...and an exchange student from Paris. The last was by far the most rewarding, but I'll save that for another day.
This morning was not unlike many recent mornings in our house. After letting Little One and the Boy stay up way too late, their grumpiness was overwhelming. I thought I had prepared for this...you know, it's always my thought process that being totally prepared insures a smooth morning. Why do I never learn my lesson? When you have a 12 year old boy and 10 year old girl involved, mornings are never smooth sailing...
The Boy had to wear a shirt and tie for Honors Day. I had the shirt ironed and the tie and belt and shoes laying out....what I didn't expect is that the pants that had fit 2 months ago would now hover somewhere around the ankles. A year ago, The Boy would have said "they're fine, Mom". Not anymore. Out came the ironing board and a search for the proper fit.
Little One was having her Field Day. This required athletic shorts and a t-shirt. You'd think this would be easy....you'd think. Thankfully, she had laid it all out on her bed the night before. Unfortunately, the hair was not cooperating.Coupled with the fact that she could not find a library book that should have been turned in a week ago, she was a mess.
Normally, I roll my eyes and shake my head, and we head out the door at about the same time each day. But this morning, I was suppose to have breakfast with 2 friends to celebrate our last morning in lower school drop-off line.I hadn't let myself think about this too deeply...after all, a few weeks ago I had witnessed The Senior graduate from college. The fact that I would have 2 middle schoolers next year hadn't settled in. But if there was a way to find humor in this, these two would find it...so I was determined to be on time.
As I dropped them off and watched Little One enter the building for what would be her last time, I wasn't sure what to feel. Happy? Relieved? Sad? Not really any of the above. During our breakfast, my friends and I managed to discuss everything BUT this ending, so I was still left to ponder it throughout the day. I picked the kids up from school, and we were all strangely quiet. We headed to our traditional Last Day of School meal at the Pub near Grandma's. This has been a favorite with the kids since they were toddlers. The Husband joined us....and as I looked around table, I was once again reminded of how fast is all goes. The boy looked over and winked at me, like he was reading my mind. "Late bedtime tonight, right mom?" Well of course. Little One continued to plot out our next few days.
A few days at Grandma's house is always the cure for everything...I've been at this road in life before, but I won't be here again. It's an interesting place. I'm not really one to sit still and reflect...I'm usually planning my next step...But today, it's worth taking a moment to take it all in....
The last day of school is also the first day of summer....
Thursday, April 22, 2010
"Promise me You'll Never Forget Me, Because if I Thought You Would, I'd Never Leave"....Pooh
If you've followed the saga of Brett Favre over the last few years, you'll understand the analogy I'm getting ready to make. A couple of years ago, Brett tearfully "retired" from the Green Bay Packers. Said he was too old to play. Said he had no more to give.....A few months later, after the smoke had cleared, he changed his mind. Most people were ecstatic (Ok, not his team, but that is another story). He came back and played another year for the New York Jets. At the end of that year, he again declared his retirement...once again emotionally saying that it was time....But a few months later, he stepped off a helicopter in Minnesota and became a Viking......After a terrific season (Ok Brother-In-Law, except for the last play of the season)..he has alluded to the fact that he is finished. But this time...nobody really paid much attention. No tears. No begging....kind of like "who cares"....
And so it goes for this blog writer. After proclaiming my retirement several times before ,I came back. The first time, it was because The Boy called me a quitter. The second time, it was because I missed the daily feedback from my hilarious, anonymous readers. But this time it is different. If you follow the blog, you've noticed that I haven't been posting as often. It gets harder and harder after a year to come up with fresh ideas. I've found myself completing an entire post before realising that I already wrote about the same thing last year...
And so today, on this lovely Thursday, I'm saying good-bye to my readers. This time, without drama or hesitation, because when it is time to go, it is time to go...I've enjoyed every minute of writing this blog, and I am full of appreciation for all of you who took the time to read it. Thanks to all of my international, cyber-space friends from Malaysia, Afghanistan, Italy, France...all of you who for some reason were interested in what The Boy, Little One, The Senior and Big Sis...not to mention The Husband......were doing on a daily basis. You disproved The Husband's theory that you just typed in "Bore me today", and up popped my blog...
Thanks to my immediate friends and family who read and commented on a daily basis. Remember, I am still here even if the blog is not...
And lastly, thanks to The Husband, who allowed me to "frame it out" my way......You will forever be my 'fodder'...
Love,
C'est La Vie Girl
And so it goes for this blog writer. After proclaiming my retirement several times before ,I came back. The first time, it was because The Boy called me a quitter. The second time, it was because I missed the daily feedback from my hilarious, anonymous readers. But this time it is different. If you follow the blog, you've noticed that I haven't been posting as often. It gets harder and harder after a year to come up with fresh ideas. I've found myself completing an entire post before realising that I already wrote about the same thing last year...
And so today, on this lovely Thursday, I'm saying good-bye to my readers. This time, without drama or hesitation, because when it is time to go, it is time to go...I've enjoyed every minute of writing this blog, and I am full of appreciation for all of you who took the time to read it. Thanks to all of my international, cyber-space friends from Malaysia, Afghanistan, Italy, France...all of you who for some reason were interested in what The Boy, Little One, The Senior and Big Sis...not to mention The Husband......were doing on a daily basis. You disproved The Husband's theory that you just typed in "Bore me today", and up popped my blog...
Thanks to my immediate friends and family who read and commented on a daily basis. Remember, I am still here even if the blog is not...
And lastly, thanks to The Husband, who allowed me to "frame it out" my way......You will forever be my 'fodder'...
Love,
C'est La Vie Girl
Monday, April 19, 2010
On Not Being the Cat Waiting for the Bird...
I was looking out the window this morning at our cat. He'd finished his breakfast and requisite morning scope of the neighborhood, searching for a second meal.Finally, he settled into his favorite spot...underneath the big tree in the back yard with the bird feeder. He will wait there all day long, silently staring up at the feeder for any sign of a bird. Now I have never seen him actually get one (and I hope I never do), but it doesn't stop him. He sits there day after day hoping to land a big catch...
Rewind the weekend a bit, and I was chastising myself this morning. As previously discussed in this blog, I am the middle child. What comes with this is an annoying tendency to constantly defend anything and everything. Charles Manson? Probably abused as a child. Hitler? Must have been ill. Sadaam Hussein? Bad mom. See? I can bring up an excuse for anyone. And I often have. The Husband often refuses to have a discussion with me for this reason. And to be quite honest, I can often annoy myself. I will be having a conversation with someone, and the voice in my head says "Why do you insist on doing that?".............However.....
I noticed this weekend that I have been doing it less and less. The Boy is on a new team this year, one filled with people I don't know very well. The Husband said I must be social and friendly. I must not sit and read a book. So I have tried. But what I have noticed is a tendency to "sit and wait for the bird". What I mean is, do you ever notice how many conversations tend to revolve around gossip or criticism? How many times that instead of discussing something positive or hopeful, it is easy to fall into a cynical or even critical way of talking. I was thinking about it this morning, and I think it is the result of lazy conversation. It's just easy to fall into the habit of complaining or criticizing something. For example, we played a very early game this weekend. We had to be at the field at 7:30, which meant rising at 6:30. Granted, our boys had just returned from their DC field trip and were tired...but come on...they are 12. It's not like we were throwing them out in the fields to work or something. They were coming to play baseball...and if you are on a travel baseball team, surely that is exciting. But instead of focusing on the fact that it was a beautiful day at the park, we all seem to be complaining about being tired...hungry...concessions stands...whatever.
Fast forward to yesterday and Little One's shining performance in her play. I found myself commiserating with a friend over some minor issues.....we had been set painters for the last few productions, and with 8 kids between us, we both have a tendency to need organisation. Unfortunately, in the local theater world, this does not always happen. But after the show was over, and the new Director was thanking everyone for their help, I felt a wash of shame come over me. Good grief, these people had just spent months putting on a major production. One that we are fortunate to have in such a small town....and all I could do was find the problems..."wait on the bird"...
I'm gonna work on this. I need to get back to my "middle child" syndrome, because in the end, I'd rather be defending than criticizing. I'd rather lift up than put down. And often times, all it takes is one person pointing out the good...and then everyone else follows....
Until tomorrow...and good words and thoughts for everyone....
Rewind the weekend a bit, and I was chastising myself this morning. As previously discussed in this blog, I am the middle child. What comes with this is an annoying tendency to constantly defend anything and everything. Charles Manson? Probably abused as a child. Hitler? Must have been ill. Sadaam Hussein? Bad mom. See? I can bring up an excuse for anyone. And I often have. The Husband often refuses to have a discussion with me for this reason. And to be quite honest, I can often annoy myself. I will be having a conversation with someone, and the voice in my head says "Why do you insist on doing that?".............However.....
I noticed this weekend that I have been doing it less and less. The Boy is on a new team this year, one filled with people I don't know very well. The Husband said I must be social and friendly. I must not sit and read a book. So I have tried. But what I have noticed is a tendency to "sit and wait for the bird". What I mean is, do you ever notice how many conversations tend to revolve around gossip or criticism? How many times that instead of discussing something positive or hopeful, it is easy to fall into a cynical or even critical way of talking. I was thinking about it this morning, and I think it is the result of lazy conversation. It's just easy to fall into the habit of complaining or criticizing something. For example, we played a very early game this weekend. We had to be at the field at 7:30, which meant rising at 6:30. Granted, our boys had just returned from their DC field trip and were tired...but come on...they are 12. It's not like we were throwing them out in the fields to work or something. They were coming to play baseball...and if you are on a travel baseball team, surely that is exciting. But instead of focusing on the fact that it was a beautiful day at the park, we all seem to be complaining about being tired...hungry...concessions stands...whatever.
Fast forward to yesterday and Little One's shining performance in her play. I found myself commiserating with a friend over some minor issues.....we had been set painters for the last few productions, and with 8 kids between us, we both have a tendency to need organisation. Unfortunately, in the local theater world, this does not always happen. But after the show was over, and the new Director was thanking everyone for their help, I felt a wash of shame come over me. Good grief, these people had just spent months putting on a major production. One that we are fortunate to have in such a small town....and all I could do was find the problems..."wait on the bird"...
I'm gonna work on this. I need to get back to my "middle child" syndrome, because in the end, I'd rather be defending than criticizing. I'd rather lift up than put down. And often times, all it takes is one person pointing out the good...and then everyone else follows....
Until tomorrow...and good words and thoughts for everyone....
Saturday, April 17, 2010
The Story of the Lady Who was Hushed at the Ball Field
The names in the following story have been changed to protect the not-so-innocent...
Once upon a time, it was a beautiful day at the baseball field. A dad was coaching his son's travel ball team, and all was going well. The son was pitching, the team was playing well and winning. But as was often the case, the dad was being a tad bit hard on the son. Now...it must be said that the dad was a pretty good coach, and besides a little bit of sarcasm which was unnecessary, he was very good with the other players. But if the son messed up, he was likely to hear about it, often in a voice that could be heard 3 fields down...
Anyway, on with our story...There was a runner on first. The son threw a pitch which was hit back to him very hard. He fielded the ball cleanly and turned and fired it to second, in time to get the runner. The boy who hit the ball was very fast, so a double play was never in question. Now, most of the fans were shouting congratulations to the son...but suddenly the dad/coach yelled "Son, you have to be QUICKER with the throw!!!." Well, at least 3 people in the crowd said "Oh no...he made a good play. No way they could have had the guy at first."....Now , the mom, who up to know had been sitting quietly minding her own business, was troubled. She knew that it was normal for the dad to be extra hard on the son...and she knew it was probably wise to stay quiet...but a voice inside her said "speak up". ...So the mom called out quietly to the dad...And in a calm voice which could not be taken for anything but concern, she said "Hey, he did throw it quickly...............". But before she was allowed to finish her thought, the dad shouted out "__________, (insert name of mom)....HUSH!!!". Well, a sudden hush flew over the stands. One of the dad's yelled out "He's a little testy today" in order to allay the total awkwardness of the situation. The mom turned to another mom and said "Did he just tell me to hush?" Whereupon the whole group of mothers burst out laughing. Because of course, none of them had ever heard this comment....at least not since they were 5.....and certainly not from their husbands....Later in the game, another mom attempted to tease the dad/coach about his behavior. His reponse? "Does Bobby Cox's (Atlanta Braves Coach) wife yell out to him?".....................Hmmm. See, now the wife understood...she had not understood that he was a Major League Baseball Coach.......SHE THOUHT IT WAS A 13 YR OLD TRAVEL BALL GAME!!!!!!
Well, hush she did. In fact, she had no conversation with the dad the rest of the game, and from what I hear, she does not plan on having any with him for several days...
So what is the moral of this story?......I'm not sure yet. Somewhere in the ball field etiquette rule book , there must be a rule about spousal disagreement. Something along the lines of "If the dad yells too loudly at the son, the mom is allowed to intervene"....
Until tomorrow...
--
Once upon a time, it was a beautiful day at the baseball field. A dad was coaching his son's travel ball team, and all was going well. The son was pitching, the team was playing well and winning. But as was often the case, the dad was being a tad bit hard on the son. Now...it must be said that the dad was a pretty good coach, and besides a little bit of sarcasm which was unnecessary, he was very good with the other players. But if the son messed up, he was likely to hear about it, often in a voice that could be heard 3 fields down...
Anyway, on with our story...There was a runner on first. The son threw a pitch which was hit back to him very hard. He fielded the ball cleanly and turned and fired it to second, in time to get the runner. The boy who hit the ball was very fast, so a double play was never in question. Now, most of the fans were shouting congratulations to the son...but suddenly the dad/coach yelled "Son, you have to be QUICKER with the throw!!!." Well, at least 3 people in the crowd said "Oh no...he made a good play. No way they could have had the guy at first."....Now , the mom, who up to know had been sitting quietly minding her own business, was troubled. She knew that it was normal for the dad to be extra hard on the son...and she knew it was probably wise to stay quiet...but a voice inside her said "speak up". ...So the mom called out quietly to the dad...And in a calm voice which could not be taken for anything but concern, she said "Hey, he did throw it quickly...............". But before she was allowed to finish her thought, the dad shouted out "__________, (insert name of mom)....HUSH!!!". Well, a sudden hush flew over the stands. One of the dad's yelled out "He's a little testy today" in order to allay the total awkwardness of the situation. The mom turned to another mom and said "Did he just tell me to hush?" Whereupon the whole group of mothers burst out laughing. Because of course, none of them had ever heard this comment....at least not since they were 5.....and certainly not from their husbands....Later in the game, another mom attempted to tease the dad/coach about his behavior. His reponse? "Does Bobby Cox's (Atlanta Braves Coach) wife yell out to him?".....................Hmmm. See, now the wife understood...she had not understood that he was a Major League Baseball Coach.......SHE THOUHT IT WAS A 13 YR OLD TRAVEL BALL GAME!!!!!!
Well, hush she did. In fact, she had no conversation with the dad the rest of the game, and from what I hear, she does not plan on having any with him for several days...
So what is the moral of this story?......I'm not sure yet. Somewhere in the ball field etiquette rule book , there must be a rule about spousal disagreement. Something along the lines of "If the dad yells too loudly at the son, the mom is allowed to intervene"....
Until tomorrow...
--
Friday, April 16, 2010
On Being Glad about the Big Return
The Boy comes home later today. This puts a smile on my face. He will most likely be tired and grumpy after a week of sharing a room with 3 other boys, but who cares? Tonight he will eat us out of house and home and beg to stay up late...and I will be thankful for 'life back to normal'.
Little One declares that she didn't miss him, but 2 nights ago, she lay in bed crying because her teeth were killing her after a 'braces adjustment". "Stupid Boy" she declared. "Stupid Boy what?" I asked. "He's not even here". She didn't answer, just laid there crying. "Do you miss him?"....."NO!"................."Maybe just a tiny bit?".......and there it was...a tiny, tiny nod of the head, so subtle that it may not have been visible to any other human eye besides her mom's....Minutes later, she denied the whole thing...
Last night, The Husband and I had a 'date night' at the Olive Garden. With Little One along. "Just pretend she isn't here" said The Husband. Now, what does the fact that I was unbelievably thrilled about this date tell you? Two things. I don't have very sophisticated culinary taste.....and I am always thrilled not to have to cook. The nice things about these dates is that I hear things from The Husband that may normally go unnoticed. Major things. I mean, it's not that we don't talk or communicate on a daily basis....but with 4 kids, several businesses, baseball, softball, dance, plays....sometimes the only things we cover during the course of a day is "Do I have any clean socks?" or "Do the Braves play tonight". So the chance to sit down to dinner together and chat about random "stuff' is nice. Last night, I learned a few new things...but the funny thing about The Husband is that he always swears he has told me these things. And I swear he hasn't. "You just don't listen to me" he says. This could be true, but I refuse to admit it. The fact is, The Husband has a tendency to be tad bit critical...so it may be true that I occasionally tune him out. But last night I was listening, and I fill like I acquired several weeks worth of information. This makes me happy. In fact, the only down-side of the evening was that I forgot my leftovers...which will make lunch so much less exciting today. (Not to mention the fact that The Husband chastised me the whole way home)
So today, as I await the "hour of return" for The Boy, I will be thankful for busy weeks and safe returns....
Little One declares that she didn't miss him, but 2 nights ago, she lay in bed crying because her teeth were killing her after a 'braces adjustment". "Stupid Boy" she declared. "Stupid Boy what?" I asked. "He's not even here". She didn't answer, just laid there crying. "Do you miss him?"....."NO!"................."Maybe just a tiny bit?".......and there it was...a tiny, tiny nod of the head, so subtle that it may not have been visible to any other human eye besides her mom's....Minutes later, she denied the whole thing...
Last night, The Husband and I had a 'date night' at the Olive Garden. With Little One along. "Just pretend she isn't here" said The Husband. Now, what does the fact that I was unbelievably thrilled about this date tell you? Two things. I don't have very sophisticated culinary taste.....and I am always thrilled not to have to cook. The nice things about these dates is that I hear things from The Husband that may normally go unnoticed. Major things. I mean, it's not that we don't talk or communicate on a daily basis....but with 4 kids, several businesses, baseball, softball, dance, plays....sometimes the only things we cover during the course of a day is "Do I have any clean socks?" or "Do the Braves play tonight". So the chance to sit down to dinner together and chat about random "stuff' is nice. Last night, I learned a few new things...but the funny thing about The Husband is that he always swears he has told me these things. And I swear he hasn't. "You just don't listen to me" he says. This could be true, but I refuse to admit it. The fact is, The Husband has a tendency to be tad bit critical...so it may be true that I occasionally tune him out. But last night I was listening, and I fill like I acquired several weeks worth of information. This makes me happy. In fact, the only down-side of the evening was that I forgot my leftovers...which will make lunch so much less exciting today. (Not to mention the fact that The Husband chastised me the whole way home)
So today, as I await the "hour of return" for The Boy, I will be thankful for busy weeks and safe returns....
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
On Wanting to Tell Your Story...
I sat for awhile in the Principal's office this afternoon at Little One's school. I had a slight issue to discuss with him, so I was patiently waiting for him to finish up with someone else before I had my turn. As I sat quietly taking it all in, I felt a renewed respect for the school secretary. In the 20 minutes that I was in there, she distributed 3 band aids, ice, 2 tissues, took 5 phone calls, made 4 copies...all while talking to teachers and monitoring the Principal's whereabouts....amazing.
When she stepped out of the room for a moment, in ran a little boy...I was guessing a kindergartner. Running down his knee was a tiny stream of blood. It was obvious to me, sitting across the room, that this was a minor scrape...a boo-boo as it were. But this little boy was not of the same opinion. He ran in and exclaimed "Excuse me!!! Excuse me!! I need some help!" Well, since I was the closest adult in sight, he looked at me. Now I had no idea where the band aids were kept, but his urgency made me want to at least pretend that I did....so I rose to my feet. As I did, the secretary came back in. "I need a band aid!" he shouted. Sweetly, she grabbed a tissue and instructed him to wipe it off. She sprayed some sort of anesthetic on it...to which he replied "It's feeling better already." She pulled out a band aid and began to apply it....and then it came. The question he had been dying to ask ever since he came in. "Wanna here how it happened?" ....Now I'm sure you think the secretary answered "Of course" or "tell me".....but no. She avoided the question all together and diverted him with a "You'll be fine". ....Now look...I didn't blame her one bit. I'll lay odds that she had heard similar stories at least 10 times today. I have no doubt that with only minutes to go in the day, she just couldn't listen to one more...
But the little boy was determined to be heard. You know that feeling when you have a story and you just have to tell it? And no matter what anyone says or how they try to avoid it...you find a way to get it out (This blog is a great way of accomplishing that)......Well, the boy began his story. And when the phone rang and the secretary turned to answer it...he just continued on, never even hesitating. In fact, he started talking to me as if I were somehow a worthy substitute for his attention. I could not hear a word he was saying above the din of the phone, teachers and all...but it didn't matter. All I had to do was nod my head and smile. When the secretary hung up the phone, she instructed him to head back to his class. He smiled and hobbled to his feet, putting on an Oscar-worthy performance as he limped out the door. The only problem was....he was limping on the wrong leg....
I thought about that little guy all afternoon. He made me miss my Boy. Day 2. Is this only Tuesday? I actually went up and stared at his un-made bed. I wondered what he was doing. I think tonight is the dinner cruise. Did he get the coach to tie his tie? Did he ask someone to dance? Is he getting any sleep? Is he having fun? All these questions I have. When I ask them out loud to The Husband...he answers like the school secretary...total avoidance, with a dash of condescension. "He''ll be fine". But even the Husband admitted to missing him. After all, he has nobody to throw on the floor and tackle...
So until tomorrow...or the next day...
When she stepped out of the room for a moment, in ran a little boy...I was guessing a kindergartner. Running down his knee was a tiny stream of blood. It was obvious to me, sitting across the room, that this was a minor scrape...a boo-boo as it were. But this little boy was not of the same opinion. He ran in and exclaimed "Excuse me!!! Excuse me!! I need some help!" Well, since I was the closest adult in sight, he looked at me. Now I had no idea where the band aids were kept, but his urgency made me want to at least pretend that I did....so I rose to my feet. As I did, the secretary came back in. "I need a band aid!" he shouted. Sweetly, she grabbed a tissue and instructed him to wipe it off. She sprayed some sort of anesthetic on it...to which he replied "It's feeling better already." She pulled out a band aid and began to apply it....and then it came. The question he had been dying to ask ever since he came in. "Wanna here how it happened?" ....Now I'm sure you think the secretary answered "Of course" or "tell me".....but no. She avoided the question all together and diverted him with a "You'll be fine". ....Now look...I didn't blame her one bit. I'll lay odds that she had heard similar stories at least 10 times today. I have no doubt that with only minutes to go in the day, she just couldn't listen to one more...
But the little boy was determined to be heard. You know that feeling when you have a story and you just have to tell it? And no matter what anyone says or how they try to avoid it...you find a way to get it out (This blog is a great way of accomplishing that)......Well, the boy began his story. And when the phone rang and the secretary turned to answer it...he just continued on, never even hesitating. In fact, he started talking to me as if I were somehow a worthy substitute for his attention. I could not hear a word he was saying above the din of the phone, teachers and all...but it didn't matter. All I had to do was nod my head and smile. When the secretary hung up the phone, she instructed him to head back to his class. He smiled and hobbled to his feet, putting on an Oscar-worthy performance as he limped out the door. The only problem was....he was limping on the wrong leg....
I thought about that little guy all afternoon. He made me miss my Boy. Day 2. Is this only Tuesday? I actually went up and stared at his un-made bed. I wondered what he was doing. I think tonight is the dinner cruise. Did he get the coach to tie his tie? Did he ask someone to dance? Is he getting any sleep? Is he having fun? All these questions I have. When I ask them out loud to The Husband...he answers like the school secretary...total avoidance, with a dash of condescension. "He''ll be fine". But even the Husband admitted to missing him. After all, he has nobody to throw on the floor and tackle...
So until tomorrow...or the next day...
Sunday, April 11, 2010
On Being the Mom that Cried....
The Boy is off to Washington DC this morning with his class. We.... well, I....spent all last evening packing for this trip. It's very tricky to pack a week's worth of clothes, including a coat and tie for a dinner cruise, into a small suitcase. I am worried I have things hidden where The Boy won't find them. I spent 30 minutes giving him a rundown on where everything was, but he was distracted by the Braves game, and only paid attention when he heard 'Ipod' and 'DS'.
I tried to explain the importance of folding dirty clothes and putting the shampoo back in the plastic bag, but even as I heard the words coming out of my mouth, I thought, really? Why would he do on a trip what he does not do at home? I cautioned him about not over-snacking or over coke-drinking as I packed 362 quarters in his tote bag. I suppose I am the Queen of mixed messages...
His first words when I woke him this morning were "Do I really have to go?" The Boy is, after all, a major homebody. Now my answer to this was almost "Of course not!" But I caught myself. The thought of a week without my Boy is gut-wrenching....he is my personality-equivalent in the household. He is able to cheer me up, make me laugh...whatever....with just a look. But I knew that what he needed from me was a little push. So I launched into the annoying mom lecture on how this was the opportunity of a lifetime....many people never even get the opportunity to go on a trip like this...This was all that was needed. He totally tuned me out and started worrying about what he would be eating for lunch and who he would choose to sit with...
Our ride to the bus was pleasant. I reminded him about manners and kindness and good decisions, and he patiently listened. I asked if it would be embarrassing to hug me...and thankfully, he said "No Prob".
I had planned on staying until the bus drove out of sight....but it seems that this was not to be the norm for everyone. The Boy was a "bus-loader"...so he would be busy for half an hour. Should I stay or should I go? I watched several people go...I watched The Boy laughing with his coach and friends...and I decided to untie that apron string just a bit....
I called The Boy over and said good-bye. I wished him a good trip. He gave me a big bear hug and a smile...and I cried. I didn't mean to, but I did. He patted me and said bye. His friends said good-bye to me and added "it's ok, Mrs. M"......I know, it's ok....
I stopped for coffee on the way home. I listened to sad songs on the radio. I cried some more. When I got home, The Husband was still sleeping, somehow immune to all of the emotion. Little One slipped down the stairs and asked for breakfast....life goes on.
So today, I'll think about that Boy every minute of the day...I'll hope and pray that he is safe and happy....and I'll hang on until next Friday....
I tried to explain the importance of folding dirty clothes and putting the shampoo back in the plastic bag, but even as I heard the words coming out of my mouth, I thought, really? Why would he do on a trip what he does not do at home? I cautioned him about not over-snacking or over coke-drinking as I packed 362 quarters in his tote bag. I suppose I am the Queen of mixed messages...
His first words when I woke him this morning were "Do I really have to go?" The Boy is, after all, a major homebody. Now my answer to this was almost "Of course not!" But I caught myself. The thought of a week without my Boy is gut-wrenching....he is my personality-equivalent in the household. He is able to cheer me up, make me laugh...whatever....with just a look. But I knew that what he needed from me was a little push. So I launched into the annoying mom lecture on how this was the opportunity of a lifetime....many people never even get the opportunity to go on a trip like this...This was all that was needed. He totally tuned me out and started worrying about what he would be eating for lunch and who he would choose to sit with...
Our ride to the bus was pleasant. I reminded him about manners and kindness and good decisions, and he patiently listened. I asked if it would be embarrassing to hug me...and thankfully, he said "No Prob".
I had planned on staying until the bus drove out of sight....but it seems that this was not to be the norm for everyone. The Boy was a "bus-loader"...so he would be busy for half an hour. Should I stay or should I go? I watched several people go...I watched The Boy laughing with his coach and friends...and I decided to untie that apron string just a bit....
I called The Boy over and said good-bye. I wished him a good trip. He gave me a big bear hug and a smile...and I cried. I didn't mean to, but I did. He patted me and said bye. His friends said good-bye to me and added "it's ok, Mrs. M"......I know, it's ok....
I stopped for coffee on the way home. I listened to sad songs on the radio. I cried some more. When I got home, The Husband was still sleeping, somehow immune to all of the emotion. Little One slipped down the stairs and asked for breakfast....life goes on.
So today, I'll think about that Boy every minute of the day...I'll hope and pray that he is safe and happy....and I'll hang on until next Friday....
Friday, April 9, 2010
Martha Washington Did Not Wear a Mini-Dress or Messy Bun...
This morning was Little One's long-awaited Biography Breakfast. This is the day when they dress up like a famous person from history that they are secretly-assigned to, do a short presentation, and see if their classmates can guess who they are. This is all done during a breakfast that is provided by the mothers (or fathers) of the students from the class.
Little One was assigned to be Martha Washington. This did not thrill her. "I wanted to be Amelia Eckert". .....Who? I asked............."You know, the lady flier. She wore pants"............Ah, you mean Amelia Earhart......
We scoured books and books to find a picture of Martha Washington that suited Little One. With each picture, she became more and more depressed. I tried to explain that this was meant to be a historical study, not a fashion show...but I was met with the glare that Little One often gives me, which means that I just do not understand anything. "Mom. I am not wearing some dumb long dress. And what is with her hair? Why do I have to be Mother of the Country? "...........Well, I had to admit that this may not have been a terrific match up for Little One, but I was determined to try and get her to have a good attitude. As I have said before, despite my penchant for Project Runway, I am not a gifted costume maker. This meant we would need to order something. Imagine my delight when I typed in "Martha Washington" on costume.com, and 5 things popped up. Unfortunately, Little One did not share my delight. She was visually appalled. "You will have to cut that dress and make it shorter." Well, you know, you agree to certain things just to make life easier...
Last night, when she tried on the costume, there were issues...and a loud argument ensued. I refused to cut the dress off at the knees....I had a feeling Martha had not been into mini-dresses. I also insisted that she wear her hair in a bun. Not one picture had shown Martha in flowy, Hannah Montanna hair....Little One put up her best fight, but finally relented and agreed to a "messy bun"....Ok, so this would be the sexy version of Martha Washington....
So this morning, I awoke to make chocolate chip pancakes at 6:00. These are the silly things you commit to weeks before the actual day. What the heck was I thinking? Oh well...hopefully it would put Little One in a good mood. When she clomped downstairs in her long dress and messy bun, I noticed she had on cowboy boots. Again, I felt that Martha would not have sported these under her gowns, but I kept my mouth shut. Like Little One, I occasionally feel the need to rebel a bit...
I delivered Little One and the pancakes to school and left....I had been dis-invited on the grounds that I would make her too nervous. So on this lovely Friday morning, I'm hoping that the presentation went well, and that the pancakes tasted ok....
Until tomorrow...
Little One was assigned to be Martha Washington. This did not thrill her. "I wanted to be Amelia Eckert". .....Who? I asked............."You know, the lady flier. She wore pants"............Ah, you mean Amelia Earhart......
We scoured books and books to find a picture of Martha Washington that suited Little One. With each picture, she became more and more depressed. I tried to explain that this was meant to be a historical study, not a fashion show...but I was met with the glare that Little One often gives me, which means that I just do not understand anything. "Mom. I am not wearing some dumb long dress. And what is with her hair? Why do I have to be Mother of the Country? "...........Well, I had to admit that this may not have been a terrific match up for Little One, but I was determined to try and get her to have a good attitude. As I have said before, despite my penchant for Project Runway, I am not a gifted costume maker. This meant we would need to order something. Imagine my delight when I typed in "Martha Washington" on costume.com, and 5 things popped up. Unfortunately, Little One did not share my delight. She was visually appalled. "You will have to cut that dress and make it shorter." Well, you know, you agree to certain things just to make life easier...
Last night, when she tried on the costume, there were issues...and a loud argument ensued. I refused to cut the dress off at the knees....I had a feeling Martha had not been into mini-dresses. I also insisted that she wear her hair in a bun. Not one picture had shown Martha in flowy, Hannah Montanna hair....Little One put up her best fight, but finally relented and agreed to a "messy bun"....Ok, so this would be the sexy version of Martha Washington....
So this morning, I awoke to make chocolate chip pancakes at 6:00. These are the silly things you commit to weeks before the actual day. What the heck was I thinking? Oh well...hopefully it would put Little One in a good mood. When she clomped downstairs in her long dress and messy bun, I noticed she had on cowboy boots. Again, I felt that Martha would not have sported these under her gowns, but I kept my mouth shut. Like Little One, I occasionally feel the need to rebel a bit...
I delivered Little One and the pancakes to school and left....I had been dis-invited on the grounds that I would make her too nervous. So on this lovely Friday morning, I'm hoping that the presentation went well, and that the pancakes tasted ok....
Until tomorrow...
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
On Missing the Dumb Cat...
It's been a few months since we lost the Dog. I still choke up occasionally...her water bowl, her leash....her old bed still sits at grandma's house. A good friend gave me a poignant book to read on life with our animals...but every time I pick it up, I cry and put it back down. But this is normal, I suppose. After 16 years, I took her lovely presence for granted...
But the darn cats are another story. I was never been a cat person, but I have become weirdly attached to the little one since the Dog left us. I pretend like I don't see her slip inside in the morning. She parks herself in the same chair and watches me paint for hours...and I'll admit it...I like it. I find myself talking to her, asking her opinion...very unlike me. I am even able to put up with the Boy's cat now. This cat has always been my mortal enemy...since the day he shoved his mamma over the deck railing to eat her food, I have disliked him. Every morning when I go out to feed him, he tries to push me out of the way...some how not grasping that I am there to feed him. It annoys me so much that I lecture him. But lately...I find myself cutting him some slack. He may not be very smart, but he is occasionally sweet...The Husband has assigned voices to each of the cats...and his voice is that of a 12 year old boy. And you just can't stay mad at a 12 year old boy for long...
So this morning...Mr. Boy Cat is AWOL. He didn't come home last night...and he didn't come back for breakfast. And this really bothers me. I have driven around looking in all of his secret places...but no luck. This guy does not like to miss a meal....so I am worried. I pretend to paint, but I keep checking the window......This is the reason for NOT having pets....I have filled the bird feeders with bird seed...The sight of all those birds will surely lure him back....
Until tomorrow...
But the darn cats are another story. I was never been a cat person, but I have become weirdly attached to the little one since the Dog left us. I pretend like I don't see her slip inside in the morning. She parks herself in the same chair and watches me paint for hours...and I'll admit it...I like it. I find myself talking to her, asking her opinion...very unlike me. I am even able to put up with the Boy's cat now. This cat has always been my mortal enemy...since the day he shoved his mamma over the deck railing to eat her food, I have disliked him. Every morning when I go out to feed him, he tries to push me out of the way...some how not grasping that I am there to feed him. It annoys me so much that I lecture him. But lately...I find myself cutting him some slack. He may not be very smart, but he is occasionally sweet...The Husband has assigned voices to each of the cats...and his voice is that of a 12 year old boy. And you just can't stay mad at a 12 year old boy for long...
So this morning...Mr. Boy Cat is AWOL. He didn't come home last night...and he didn't come back for breakfast. And this really bothers me. I have driven around looking in all of his secret places...but no luck. This guy does not like to miss a meal....so I am worried. I pretend to paint, but I keep checking the window......This is the reason for NOT having pets....I have filled the bird feeders with bird seed...The sight of all those birds will surely lure him back....
Until tomorrow...
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