THE TRICKSTERS OF OHIO

I love a good bribe, and by that I mean one that produces the desired results. This was accomplished yesterday at David’s track meet, and here’s how it all went down. First we watched him in the triple jump, and this was only his second time to try this event so I didn’t know what to expect. We missed his first performance, but he reported scratching on his first two jumps, and on the third, hitting the board and his feet going out from under him. I asked him if he was embarrassed by this, but no...he just thought it was funny.

Anyway, yesterday, like I said, I didn’t know what to expect. But he jumped fine, as far as I could tell, and way farther (or further) than I could jump, so that’s good. But I couldn’t tell that he brought any intensity or focus to the effort. So afterwards I asked him if he’d ever really gone all out at any track event, and he said yes. So I said, "It doesn’t show in your face," and he said, "I just have a relaxed-looking face." So then I asked him if he would run hard in his races later in the track meet, and he said probably not because he didn’t want to throw up. And I'm pretty sure this proved my point.

And so I said if he would go all out and give his very best effort to just one race, I would buy him an I-tunes card. And there still was some hesitation but finally he caved. And lo and behold, he surprised us all by WINNING the 800, by a good margin too. Throughout the race, I kept repeating to Dave, "He’s gonna die, he’s gonna die," and this annoyed him for some reason, but I didn’t care.

Well, I had to call the girls then and tell them the astounding news, because I couldn’t remember any of my kids ever WINNING a race before, except maybe one of those relay things where you have to share the glory with three other people. But Rachel told me she remembered winning a race in middle school, so either my memory is failing or she’s delusional. The only race I remember of hers was one where she ran up to a hurdle, stopped, backed up, and then ran at it again. But I can’t be sure of anything these days, so maybe even that didn’t happen.

And one final note on the track meet. Again the weather was all over the place, and at one point the wind began to blow fiercely, and the skies grew overcast, and the temps dropped about 30 degrees. So naturally I made Dave pull up to the finish line so I could watch the races from inside the car. And we sat there for hours (literally) watching other kids run across the finish line, and when David was running we would get out and cheer him on, and then we would get back in the car, where it was all toasty warm. So all in all it was a good time, made even better when I discovered the following items in my purse: three fortune cookies, a half-eaten but still fresh blueberry muffin, and a clementine. I thought about sharing my stash with Dave but decided against it, because it wasn't as if we were stranded in an elevator or on a desert island or anything. I mean, there was even a concession stand several hundred feet from where we were parked, so I let him fend for himself.

In other news, Dave is getting ready to take a few days off to visit his family. He is a bit concerned about the trip, because his sister called and told him her five kids were planning to play all kinds of "tricks" on him when he got there. He asked us, "What if I don’t think their tricks are funny, and then I have to ACT like they are." This is a real concern because he is admittedly a TERRIBLE actor. But Emily and Rachel assured him that he WOULD think the tricks were funny, and told him to just relax. Emily said she would love to trade places with him and get tricked by those kids, and she told him that he should play some tricks on them too. I’m not sure, but I think Dave was reassured by this little pep talk. It was role-reversal at its best. The children reassuring the adult that he could handle a new situation.

Speaking of those girls, I have to tell you that Emily and Rachel set up their annual private café for Dave and me the other night and made and served us dinner. They usually do this sometime around our birthdays and they were only a month late this time, so that was nice. My apples have not fallen far from the tree. They made delicious fajitas and yummy strawberry slushes. Our dinner entertainment was getting to watch Channel 62 without them complaining and since "Singin’ in the Rain" was on, it was perfect, at least for me. Dave probably would have preferred an edgier film, something with Gregory Peck or Gary Coleman. But he didn't complain.

We had a going away luncheon for a co-worker today and it was Mexican-themed. My contribution was taco salad, Anita style, and I must admit it was almost as good as hers.

MASTERS OF DIGRESSION

I am in the middle of reading Les Miserables, but before you jump to any crazy conclusions, let me assure you that I am reading this particular book only because I happened to run across it several years ago at a garage sale and it called to me. First, and most obviously, because the author is Victor Hugo and I happen to have an affinity for all things "Hugo". Second, and more importantly, because the price was right. So there you have it. My reasons for reading one of the great classics of all time.

I must also confess that I started reading this book back when I bought it, but I had a hard time making progress. Because let’s face it...and no offense Victor...the thing is definitely not a page turner. But even more daunting than the actual writing was something I discovered shortly AFTER I started reading the 470-some page book. Towards the bottom of its front cover, in fairly large print so I can’t claim fraud, are two ominous words...Volume One. To say this discovery discouraged me would be an understatement. I simply could not go on, so I laid the book aside. (Or did I lie it aside? Never sure on that one.)

Anyway, about a month ago, I ran across the book again...this time in a stack beside my bed. And I don’t know why but I decided to give it another shot. And here I am now at almost the halfway mark in said Volume One, so I am thinking brighter thoughts about my chances of finishing it and maybe even searching out the dreaded Volume Two. I can only hope there is no Volume Three.

But the reason I bring all this up now is that I have recently come to the conclusion that Victor and I have something in common in our writing styles. Seriously. We both digress. Right smack dab in the middle of his epic about the prostitute Fantine and her lovely daughter Cosette, Victor veers off into a lengthy and detailed description of the Battle of Waterloo. Fascinating reading, actually. But that’s when I realized that even great writers veer off on tangents now and again, and so I’m going to quit apologizing for my digressions.

As for family news, we are charging ahead with this graduation thing. Apparently, it will happen whether I want it to or not. Emily has addressed all the invites and they should go out shortly...when and if I can get to the post office for stamps. We’re hoping they have a Frank Sinatra series out, but that would probably be too much to ask. She also got her cap and gown. And that’s enough about that.

Rachel played in her final symphony concert of the year last night. And I don’t like to speak ill of the boyfriend but when she asked him to go, he said "Do I have to?" and she said "No", and he said "Okay." And I can’t really blame him because I literally had to PREPARE David in advance for the ordeal. I gave him plenty of warning, and told him in no uncertain terms that he was not getting out of it. So we all went, and the music was beautiful, and the conductor always does a great job of picking interesting pieces. But the highlight of the night for David was when he spotted a typo in the program which made Englebert Humperdink’s name sound even funnier...and bawdier, if you will.

And on a final and serious note, someday I would like to tell you the story of my mother and her dear friend MaryAnn. I am thinking about their uncommon friendship right now because our family was saddened to hear that MaryAnn passed away yesterday. I know if it’s possible for heaven to get sweeter, then it did the minute she said goodbye to this earth. But seriously, I cannot talk about this now.

I haven’t had lunch yet today, but for breakfast, I had two Connie’s Cookies that had been in my freezer.

THE BIG CHEESE

We are breathing a BIG sigh of relief around here today because cheer tryouts went well. I wasn’t overly concerned about it until last night when Dave found Rachel on the couch in the fetal position moaning something about not having a "cheesy face". I guess the cheer coach told her to cheese it up more and she felt she was giving it all the cheese she had. Sure enough, when we compared her cheese face with Emily’s, we could see there was a problem. We think it has something to do with her little mouth. But all’s well that ends well because she made the squad anyway. Either the judges didn’t notice the problem or she somehow dug deep and brought out some extra cheese. We are also excited because now we don’t have to drop everything we’re doing every hour or so and move the furniture out of the way so she can show us her cheers. The child became a little tyrant really, and I humored her because I could tell she was nervous. See, I’m not such a bad mother.

David’s been in trouble lately for several things. One was not turning off the crock pot when I reminded him several times. The other was for being disrespectful to Dave and me. I assigned him a score of punishments because I like to overreact to things. One thing I made him do was write letters of apology to us. I found them on the kitchen table the next day and they were thoughtful enough but they were also slightly Eddie Haskell-esque. He opened mine with "Dear Shelley" and talked about how "Dave" and I do so much for him. Should I punish him some more?

That’s all for now, but I had another turkey sandwich for lunch and this time I made it myself.

TO MAKE A LIST, OR NOT TO MAKE A LIST. THAT IS THE QUESTION.

Before we get to the real subject of this post, one more note on Emily’s field trip to Dallas and their dinner at that expensive restaurant. It was Wolfgang Puck’s Five Sixty at the top of Reunion Tower, and Emily gave the atmosphere rave reviews but she said the food was not spectacular. It’s obvious she has been spoiled by my cooking. I mean I do make a delicious hot pork sandwich, very tasty nachos, and my Hamburger Helper is second to none. So it’s no wonder she wasn’t impressed with Mr. Puck’s offerings.

But enough about Emily. Let's talk about me. I can’t decide whether or not to make a list of all the things I need to do before her graduation. The question is: Do I really want all those tasks written down in black and white so that every time I see THE LIST, I’ll realize how little I’ve accomplished? Or should I continue living in blissful ignorance, doing things hit or miss and just hoping for the best?

I did finally get around to ordering the invitations, or at least my precious and accomplished niece Amanda did. So if I did make a list, I could check that off. And last time I was at Sam’s, I bought 300 clear plastic forks and 280 plastic cups in bright spring colors...so I feel I am well on my way to a lovely event. But who really knows? Without a list, I mean. And yes, I’m expecting that many guests at Emily’s reception, but only because we’re combining the party with four of her friends. So that’s why I bought that many forks and cups. Not that I don’t tend to overbuy on just about everything, but this time I was just following instructions.

I’ve also made progress on the sleeping arrangements for the 30-or-so relatives descending on us for Graduation Weekend 2010 (GW2010). I’ve reserved a house that sleeps 12 for my favorites, and the rest will have to bunk at my house. Just kidding of course. They’re all my favorites. But still, the ones that read my blog might get preferential treatment. Just saying. I also made up a bracket for an arm-wrestling tournament for the single people coming to GW2010. The top five finishers will get the non-deflatable beds and the rest will be on air mattresses. Of course, after I announced the seeds I was harangued with complaints. Everyone's a critic you know. But I will stand by my seedings and will not give in to any strong-armed tactics. Yes. I can also do clever puns.

But I think the real reason I am avoiding making that list is that suddenly my normally stoic Emily has turned on me and become "emotional" about this graduation. I mean several weeks ago we were tooling down the road and listening to that awful, awful Taylor Swift song where she talks about her mom (I think it’s called "The Best Day") and I love it but every time I hear it I become a mess of course. And I rely on Emily to laugh at me and tell me I’m ridiculous. But on this particular day I glance over at her and see these huge tears welling up in her eyes. And she knows this will make me crazy, and so she looks sheepish too. So what am I supposed to do? If she can’t be strong, then I have no choice but to live in denial, which means NOT making any lists which might make this whole thing seem more real. Because we can’t both be blubbering idiots.

I have much more to say, but it will have to wait. I took the girls to our new Chinese restaurant for lunch. It’s less than a block from my house which will be nice and convenient...unless it turns out to be one of those fronts for the Chinese mafia. But I don’t think it will.

THE FIELD TRIP

Last weekend, Emily went to Dallas with the seniors from her Fashion Marketing class. This EDUCATIONAL field trip included going to the market, seeing a fashion show, and eating one night at a revolving restaurant where the bill for the six of them was over $400. I will probably always resent the fact that she didn’t figure out a way to bring me along on this trip as a sponsor. I mean I’ve paid my dues, haven’t I? I’ve spent literally HOURS herding her and her classmates through smelly zoos, less-than-fascinating western landmarks, and even around the rim of a volcano (which sounds pretty cool but was just brutal for a person like me). And I don’t recall eating anything on any of those trips besides a sack lunch that I prepared myself. And on several of those trips I made the mistake of packing myself a dreaded LUNCHABLE. Handy and convenient, yes. But seriously, does anyone really enjoy those 3-inch pizzas with their cold cracker crusts and sauce that you have to spread yourself with a little plastic stick? Anyway, so you can see why I felt cheated when I wasn’t welcome as a sponsor for the Dallas trip. I am going to try to remember this on those days when I feel I haven’t sacrificed enough for my children.

Oh, there’s so much more to say. But I have to get to a middle school track meet. And I apologize for promising a blog post earlier and not following through...but I decided it might be wise to do my tax return first. See, I’m not totally irresponsible.

I had a delicious turkey sandwich for lunch. My husband, who worked from home today, made it for me and delivered it to my office.

TRUE CONFESSIONS

So Saturday night, we went to the movies. And since we had nothing better to do, we decided to do a double feature. The girls and I saw Remember Me and Last Song, and the man and boy saw Clash of the Titans and then Last Song with us. Both the movies I saw were depressingly sad. I honestly don’t know what I was thinking letting them drag me to two tear-jerkers IN A ROW. I’m not usually that stupid.

And then afterwards we’re heading home and it’s after midnight. And of course I have a doozy of a headache from crying nonstop through the last 30 minutes of Last Song...even though David was providing some comic relief by looking down at me every 10 minutes or so and pretending to shoot himself in the head because he wasn’t too happy that we drug him to a chick flick. And I’m feeling a bit sick too from eating too much popcorn, because I said to myself...hey, two movies...I better get the refillable bucket and everyone can eat their fill...but of course no one does but me.

So anyway, I’m already feeling pretty low...and then guess what happens. I hear this giant "thump" and Dave says, "Uh, oh. We hit a rabbit." And that’s when we all remembered it was Easter morning.

I had lunch in the car with Emily. She had a double cheeseburger, plain with mac sauce, and I had a hamburger happy meal with a root beer.