As a blogger, I fancy myself to be a writer, and sometimes others make the mistake of thinking I am one as well. Take my nephew Ben for example. He recently asked me to write a few lines for something he’s doing at his rehearsal dinner. I was flattered of course, and promptly prepared a little something which I thought was brilliant, bordering on genius really. Here are some sample lines so you can judge for yourself:
“At Ben and Courtney's wedding, we want you to have fun. And while we can't promise you more popularity or better hair by being at the wedding, we can promise you a good time.”
See…pretty good, eh? Anyway, so it may be hard for you to believe that shortly after I forwarded my masterpiece to Ben, I received an extremely polite email back from him that said, in essence, that they (he and Courtney) were…well…going in a different direction. I’m sure it pained him to tell me this, since he is just about the nicest guy in the world, and wouldn’t hurt a fly. Okay, maybe he’d hurt a fly, but definitely not his beloved Aunt Shelley. He needn’t have worried though. Even wannabe writers like me are often misunderstood, and know how to handle rejection. I just started thinking about how I could turn this little story into a blog post. Yeah, I got right back on the horse.
For lunch today, I had tortilla casserole, chicken casserole, lasagna, green beans, corn, baked beans, rice/carrot dish, fruit salad, jello salad, pasta salad, potato salad, German chocolate cake, half a no-bake cookie (they were made with peanut butter and I like them without), watermelon, a strawberry, a blackberry, and iced tea. I can never make up my mind at church potlucks…so I just have a little of everything.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Saturday, May 29, 2010
SLIGHTING AMADEUS
We went to Rachel’s official violin "recital" last night. That other event where David acted up was just a concert, but this was where the students played solos and then some ensembles played. It was all strings, and lasted a little over two hours, so I was pleasantly surprised when David didn’t act overly boorish. He did add up the songs listed on the program (29) and then occasionally updated us on the statistical progress of the recital (10 down, 19 to go, etc., etc.). But since I do that myself, I couldn’t really blame him.
And I guess I should have scolded him when after hearing several of the younger musicians play Twinkle, Twinkle, he remarked about his excitement that the next musician’s piece was "Twinkle Variations". But indeed, I felt the same way. Finally, towards the end of the recital, he wrote me a note complaining about the lack of legitimate Mozart pieces being performed (other than Twinkle of course) and calling Leopold Mozart, who wrote another song on the program, a "poser". But I couldn’t really blame him for that because I’ve never heard of this Leopold either.
I have much more to say, but I have to go to a cookout. The invitation came earlier today...by text message to Dave. And the whole family got all excited, because we wouldn't have to cook of course. But since Dave never programs numbers into his phone, we didn't know who had issued the invitation. And it seemed rude to say...OF COURSE WE'LL COME, BUT WHO IS THIS? So we all scurried about and eventually we found the number in my phone...and texted back YES...because not only do we love this family, but they always fix GREAT food too. Bonus.
The whole thing kind of reminded me of the early days of our marriage, when Dave and I would get home from work and kind of putter around the house, hoping my sister or mother would call and invite us to dinner. More often than not, the phone would ring and even before answering, we would do a little jig and start singing...There’s the Invitation. You know, from that old church song where the chorus goes, "Hear the invitation, come whosoever will". Maybe you had to be there.
I had two homemade tamales for lunch, which I found in my freezer.
And I guess I should have scolded him when after hearing several of the younger musicians play Twinkle, Twinkle, he remarked about his excitement that the next musician’s piece was "Twinkle Variations". But indeed, I felt the same way. Finally, towards the end of the recital, he wrote me a note complaining about the lack of legitimate Mozart pieces being performed (other than Twinkle of course) and calling Leopold Mozart, who wrote another song on the program, a "poser". But I couldn’t really blame him for that because I’ve never heard of this Leopold either.
I have much more to say, but I have to go to a cookout. The invitation came earlier today...by text message to Dave. And the whole family got all excited, because we wouldn't have to cook of course. But since Dave never programs numbers into his phone, we didn't know who had issued the invitation. And it seemed rude to say...OF COURSE WE'LL COME, BUT WHO IS THIS? So we all scurried about and eventually we found the number in my phone...and texted back YES...because not only do we love this family, but they always fix GREAT food too. Bonus.
The whole thing kind of reminded me of the early days of our marriage, when Dave and I would get home from work and kind of putter around the house, hoping my sister or mother would call and invite us to dinner. More often than not, the phone would ring and even before answering, we would do a little jig and start singing...There’s the Invitation. You know, from that old church song where the chorus goes, "Hear the invitation, come whosoever will". Maybe you had to be there.
I had two homemade tamales for lunch, which I found in my freezer.
Friday, May 28, 2010
THE WOMAN WHO KNEW TOO MUCH
I am still reflecting on the graduation weekend, and I hope you'll forgive me for returning to that subject now and again. Today, I was thinking about the kids in Emily’s class being the hope for our future, and became a bit concerned. Probably because I know them better than students of previous years. Take that guy who ran around during extremely cold football games wearing only a cape and shorts, and covered with blue and red paint. Can he be trusted to diagnose illnesses and perform surgeries? And how about that guy who strutted across the stage during the Mr. HHS contest in a circa 1970 basketball uniform? Do we really want him out there protecting our forests? Then there’s my daughter. I’m not sure a girl who can’t tell the difference between lettuce and cabbage should be instructing your children on the evils of the Nazi regime. It wouldn’t bother me if any of these graduates became lawyers, or even used car salesmen. Our world might still be safe. But doctors, nurses, engineers? Yeah...scary.
I took David shopping yesterday. For the ONE month he will be playing baseball, he needed cleats, socks, pants, and some batting gloves. Then we found a jacket and some sweet Stan Smith Adidas shoes which were both on clearance, so we had to have them. Finally, he decided to spend his own money on some Converse high tops. I’m not sure if those are still cool, but he doesn’t seem to care. And he admitted that he felt like a girl walking out of the store with three new pairs of shoes. I felt like I was buying for a girl after spending $280 on the kid. I used to think he was less high maintenance than the girls but not anymore.
He tried his new gear out at his first game last night, and did well so I guess we bought the right stuff. We were at the ballpark from 6 to 10:30 p.m., because he played both the A and B games. Brutal. But actually not. I enjoyed most of it, especially when this cute guy came over and sat and talked to Emily and I got to hear her tell him two interesting things. First they were talking about her pickup and she told him, and I quote, "The heat works and the air conditioner works, but they won’t work at the same time." Hmmm. Then they were talking about jobs and she said she wouldn’t want to work at a bank "because she might accidently steal some money." Shortly afterwards, the guy made some excuse and left.
Rachel has agreed to be my personal trainer this summer. She is arranging a place in the basement for us to work out. We will start with Richard Simmons Sweatin' to the Oldies. Her choice. I will keep you posted on our progress.
The girls and I went back to the new Chinese place for lunch. The crab rangoon is reportly delicious, but I don't like crab rangoon.
I took David shopping yesterday. For the ONE month he will be playing baseball, he needed cleats, socks, pants, and some batting gloves. Then we found a jacket and some sweet Stan Smith Adidas shoes which were both on clearance, so we had to have them. Finally, he decided to spend his own money on some Converse high tops. I’m not sure if those are still cool, but he doesn’t seem to care. And he admitted that he felt like a girl walking out of the store with three new pairs of shoes. I felt like I was buying for a girl after spending $280 on the kid. I used to think he was less high maintenance than the girls but not anymore.
He tried his new gear out at his first game last night, and did well so I guess we bought the right stuff. We were at the ballpark from 6 to 10:30 p.m., because he played both the A and B games. Brutal. But actually not. I enjoyed most of it, especially when this cute guy came over and sat and talked to Emily and I got to hear her tell him two interesting things. First they were talking about her pickup and she told him, and I quote, "The heat works and the air conditioner works, but they won’t work at the same time." Hmmm. Then they were talking about jobs and she said she wouldn’t want to work at a bank "because she might accidently steal some money." Shortly afterwards, the guy made some excuse and left.
Rachel has agreed to be my personal trainer this summer. She is arranging a place in the basement for us to work out. We will start with Richard Simmons Sweatin' to the Oldies. Her choice. I will keep you posted on our progress.
The girls and I went back to the new Chinese place for lunch. The crab rangoon is reportly delicious, but I don't like crab rangoon.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
BOARD BARN SUMMERS
I'm happy to report that my kids all have summer jobs. Emily is working 8-5 for an architect...hello, real world...but she has Fridays off. Rachel is babysitting a few days a week for some kids she loves, and by babysitting I mean she watches old Disney movies with them. David is working for the rec commission as a scorekeeper, and is scheduled for all of FOUR games throughout the summer. Now there's a tough gig.
When I was in high school, I worked at the "Board Barn", which was a place that made wooden items that were in demand back in the 70's when crafts were big. I ran the router, the drill press, and the scrollsaw, but my specialty was the jigsaw. I cut out a LOT of big wooden letters on that jigsaw and broke very few blades. Today, you might say I was a "beast" on that machine.
For the most part, this was a pretty cushy job, and coveted by other high school students. At least by those that liked the smell of sawdust. The only real down side was that the place was not air conditioned, so I remember sweating a lot. But I cooled off, sort of, by taking a two-hour break every afternoon, during which I would meet my friend Jo at the tennis courts. I didn’t get paid for these breaks, needless to say, and my mother frowned upon them for some reason. But thanks to all those hours on the court, I developed a savage tan and a wicked backhand. Then in college, I won several intramural tournaments and have a box of trophies to prove it. So you see, summer jobs can be important to your success later in life.
Of course, now I don't know one end of a jigsaw from the other, and can hardly hit a tennis ball to save my life. Not that I've been asked to. But the point is, that summer job provided me some great memories, not to mention something to say when I'm playing those party games where you have tell a little-known fact about yourself. And my children are creating some of those memories now, and I like that.
I had a Hamburger Happy Meal for lunch and am sorry to have to tell you that.
When I was in high school, I worked at the "Board Barn", which was a place that made wooden items that were in demand back in the 70's when crafts were big. I ran the router, the drill press, and the scrollsaw, but my specialty was the jigsaw. I cut out a LOT of big wooden letters on that jigsaw and broke very few blades. Today, you might say I was a "beast" on that machine.
For the most part, this was a pretty cushy job, and coveted by other high school students. At least by those that liked the smell of sawdust. The only real down side was that the place was not air conditioned, so I remember sweating a lot. But I cooled off, sort of, by taking a two-hour break every afternoon, during which I would meet my friend Jo at the tennis courts. I didn’t get paid for these breaks, needless to say, and my mother frowned upon them for some reason. But thanks to all those hours on the court, I developed a savage tan and a wicked backhand. Then in college, I won several intramural tournaments and have a box of trophies to prove it. So you see, summer jobs can be important to your success later in life.
Of course, now I don't know one end of a jigsaw from the other, and can hardly hit a tennis ball to save my life. Not that I've been asked to. But the point is, that summer job provided me some great memories, not to mention something to say when I'm playing those party games where you have tell a little-known fact about yourself. And my children are creating some of those memories now, and I like that.
I had a Hamburger Happy Meal for lunch and am sorry to have to tell you that.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
FAMILY CIRCUS - PART ONE
She walked across the stage, took her diploma, and never looked back.
Sorry. Just wanted to experiment with a different kind of first line, suggested to me by my brother-in-law Dave. I’ll go back to my ramshackle style now. It feels much more comfortable.
So...yes! We graduated! I have to say WE, not only because I’m an admitted hovercraft mom, but also because, let’s face it, I was the one that made all this possible. I was the one that signed that dreaded agenda every day. I ran her cheer shoes up to the school when she forgot them. And I whipped up those orange juliuses for her classes every time she asked. Okay, almost every time, but that’s not important. The important thing is that she did walk across that stage, she did receive her blank diploma holder, and she did spray silly string all over her fellow graduates. And I would like to tell you how beautiful she looked while doing all these things, but does anyone really look their best in those ill-fitting gowns with those odd caps perched upon their heads?
But as graduation ceremonies go, it was a fine specimen, with all the usual trappings. The funny and poignant speeches, the sappy songs sung by seniors (say that three times fast), and the plethora of proud-looking parents and grandparents. Of course, in our case, the proud ones were her 28 aunts, uncles, and cousins, rather than her grandparents. But while I did miss my parents that day, I must say I felt truly blessed with the support we had for this weekend.
One final note on the actual ceremony. There were some touching moments, but I never cried. Even when Emily brought me the flower and hugged me. Odd, I know. If I didn’t know better, I’d think someone had slipped an anti-depressant into my drink at breakfast. But I don’t think I ate breakfast, so maybe I’ve just mastered my emotions through incredible mental discipline and control. Or maybe, just maybe, I didn’t cry because my skirt kept sticking to my legs every time I stood up, and that was a distraction. And I should just be thankful for that hot gym.
And now for a report on the celebrations. The family started trickling in Friday afternoon and didn’t stop until nearly midnight when my niece Meagan arrived, direct from Zambia. Seriously. Needless to say, she took the prize for traveling the furthest. And by the way, she’s home for good now. Well, at least for a year...but we can always dream, can’t we?
Other friends stopped by as well, including Emily’s kindergarten teacher who brought her a SWEET handmade denim quilt. Apparently she was an exceptional kindergartner. Okay, not really. The teacher is also a family friend and just all-around nice lady.
Emily’s "official" reception was Friday night with three of her friends. And it was a fine reception, even though her table and her mother were a bit underdressed for the occasion. But Emily didn’t stress over it, so neither did I. But I did hum the old "one of these things is not like the others" several times.
As for the rest of the weekend, it was the usual family circus. We didn’t get much card-playing done, but we did some street-walking which everyone always seems to enjoy. We also ate on the front lawn because our air-conditioning is unhooked thanks to the basement project. And of course we haven’t needed it yet this spring, until this particular weekend when I just happened to have 33 warm bodies to entertain at the house. And our back yard is still a dirt-packed mess from the basement project as well, so we couldn’t escape back there. Which left only the front lawn, and since we live on Main Street, it was pretty much a spectacle.
Finally, lest you think the weekend was idyllic, let me assure you it had its dark side. Caused by two eating establishments in town. My family always enjoys an outing or two to our local coffee shop, so they all met down there early Saturday morning only to be greeted by a sign on the door that read "Closed for Graduation." Rude. Then on Sunday, we all traipsed down to our local Mexican eatery, where we spent close to an hour and a half waiting for our food. Double-rude. And inconvenient for me because now, on principle, I have to boycott the place for at least a few weeks because they didn’t offer us anything free to make up for the wait. My family always always always responds well to free dessert, so it was the least they could have done.
I have more, including a list of injuries sustained by my family while they were visiting for the graduation. This should be fascinating reading for you medical personnel, but it will have to wait because I am behind at work. I had a barbecue sandwich and chips for lunch today, brought to me by Rachel because school is out and she has such a servant heart. Or maybe because I told her to bring me something.
Sorry. Just wanted to experiment with a different kind of first line, suggested to me by my brother-in-law Dave. I’ll go back to my ramshackle style now. It feels much more comfortable.
So...yes! We graduated! I have to say WE, not only because I’m an admitted hovercraft mom, but also because, let’s face it, I was the one that made all this possible. I was the one that signed that dreaded agenda every day. I ran her cheer shoes up to the school when she forgot them. And I whipped up those orange juliuses for her classes every time she asked. Okay, almost every time, but that’s not important. The important thing is that she did walk across that stage, she did receive her blank diploma holder, and she did spray silly string all over her fellow graduates. And I would like to tell you how beautiful she looked while doing all these things, but does anyone really look their best in those ill-fitting gowns with those odd caps perched upon their heads?
But as graduation ceremonies go, it was a fine specimen, with all the usual trappings. The funny and poignant speeches, the sappy songs sung by seniors (say that three times fast), and the plethora of proud-looking parents and grandparents. Of course, in our case, the proud ones were her 28 aunts, uncles, and cousins, rather than her grandparents. But while I did miss my parents that day, I must say I felt truly blessed with the support we had for this weekend.
One final note on the actual ceremony. There were some touching moments, but I never cried. Even when Emily brought me the flower and hugged me. Odd, I know. If I didn’t know better, I’d think someone had slipped an anti-depressant into my drink at breakfast. But I don’t think I ate breakfast, so maybe I’ve just mastered my emotions through incredible mental discipline and control. Or maybe, just maybe, I didn’t cry because my skirt kept sticking to my legs every time I stood up, and that was a distraction. And I should just be thankful for that hot gym.
And now for a report on the celebrations. The family started trickling in Friday afternoon and didn’t stop until nearly midnight when my niece Meagan arrived, direct from Zambia. Seriously. Needless to say, she took the prize for traveling the furthest. And by the way, she’s home for good now. Well, at least for a year...but we can always dream, can’t we?
Other friends stopped by as well, including Emily’s kindergarten teacher who brought her a SWEET handmade denim quilt. Apparently she was an exceptional kindergartner. Okay, not really. The teacher is also a family friend and just all-around nice lady.
Emily’s "official" reception was Friday night with three of her friends. And it was a fine reception, even though her table and her mother were a bit underdressed for the occasion. But Emily didn’t stress over it, so neither did I. But I did hum the old "one of these things is not like the others" several times.
As for the rest of the weekend, it was the usual family circus. We didn’t get much card-playing done, but we did some street-walking which everyone always seems to enjoy. We also ate on the front lawn because our air-conditioning is unhooked thanks to the basement project. And of course we haven’t needed it yet this spring, until this particular weekend when I just happened to have 33 warm bodies to entertain at the house. And our back yard is still a dirt-packed mess from the basement project as well, so we couldn’t escape back there. Which left only the front lawn, and since we live on Main Street, it was pretty much a spectacle.
Finally, lest you think the weekend was idyllic, let me assure you it had its dark side. Caused by two eating establishments in town. My family always enjoys an outing or two to our local coffee shop, so they all met down there early Saturday morning only to be greeted by a sign on the door that read "Closed for Graduation." Rude. Then on Sunday, we all traipsed down to our local Mexican eatery, where we spent close to an hour and a half waiting for our food. Double-rude. And inconvenient for me because now, on principle, I have to boycott the place for at least a few weeks because they didn’t offer us anything free to make up for the wait. My family always always always responds well to free dessert, so it was the least they could have done.
I have more, including a list of injuries sustained by my family while they were visiting for the graduation. This should be fascinating reading for you medical personnel, but it will have to wait because I am behind at work. I had a barbecue sandwich and chips for lunch today, brought to me by Rachel because school is out and she has such a servant heart. Or maybe because I told her to bring me something.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
ETIQUETTE QUANDARIES
On Wednesday nights, I teach the baby class at church. It’s the perfect fit for me because I like students who don’t talk back and who don’t go home and tell their parents anything weird that I said or did. One week I noticed halfway through class that the zipper on my skirt was down, and not one of those babies laughed or said anything about it. They just smiled goofily at me, and drooled a bit. And I get to make up songs and it doesn’t matter if they don’t make sense. And I sing them to the same tune because no really cares about variety in the cradle roll. But last night it was a bit of a problem because I’d been singing the same tune for so long that I couldn’t remember how Jesus Loves Me goes. Pretty sad. But no one in my class seemed to mind.
I have to tell you about my lovely neighbors. We didn’t send any of them graduation invitations because we don’t socialize with them and Emily doesn’t know them well at all. But two of them have given her cards, and one gave her a nice check with it. So now I feel guilty about not sending them invitations. But if I’d sent them invitations, I would have worried that they were giving her something out of a sense of obligation, so really I guess it’s nicer that I didn’t send them invitations and now I can just appreciate their incredible thoughtfulness, right? I’m so confused.
Before Rachel left for school this morning, she practiced her violin. She has a new teacher because her old one said he had nothing left to teach her. This new lady has her doctorate in something...probably music but we haven’t asked for specifics. Anyway, she has inspired Rachel to practice more and I will tell you that I like it. I like waking up to that sound, even when she’s not hitting those notes just right.
I haven’t had lunch yet today, but I imagine I’ll eat with Emily somewhere because we’re headed out for some last minute shopping. Probably Mexican...but we’ll see.
I have to tell you about my lovely neighbors. We didn’t send any of them graduation invitations because we don’t socialize with them and Emily doesn’t know them well at all. But two of them have given her cards, and one gave her a nice check with it. So now I feel guilty about not sending them invitations. But if I’d sent them invitations, I would have worried that they were giving her something out of a sense of obligation, so really I guess it’s nicer that I didn’t send them invitations and now I can just appreciate their incredible thoughtfulness, right? I’m so confused.
Before Rachel left for school this morning, she practiced her violin. She has a new teacher because her old one said he had nothing left to teach her. This new lady has her doctorate in something...probably music but we haven’t asked for specifics. Anyway, she has inspired Rachel to practice more and I will tell you that I like it. I like waking up to that sound, even when she’s not hitting those notes just right.
I haven’t had lunch yet today, but I imagine I’ll eat with Emily somewhere because we’re headed out for some last minute shopping. Probably Mexican...but we’ll see.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
GRYDUATION NEWS
Just a brief update today. Then it’s back to the interminable prep-work for this gryduation. That’s not a typo...it’s what I’ve called these events ever since my sister Susan bought this misspelled banner for her first graduating child. She hung it anyway, and used it for the gryduations of her younger three kids as well. So it’s been gryduation to me ever since. She’s also the sister who got an initial necklace one Christmas from her husband, but the letter was an F instead of an S. So we still call her Fusan occasionally. This family can beat a dead horse like no other.
But back to family news. Emily finished writing her Val speech and it’s pretty good but the one I wrote for her is better. I made my own bad self cry three times while writing it. But for some reason she thought she needed to write her own. She doesn’t seem to understand my need to live vicariously through her. I mean, if it hadn’t been for those B’s I kept getting in P.E. (because I couldn’t do a stupid roundoff or cartwheel) I would have been speaking at my own gryduation back in ‘76, so the least she could do is let me write the speech. But kids are so selfish these days.
In other Emily news, she has a bruised lip and a sore elbow, from two SEPARATE encounters with a car door. I just hope she makes it to gryduation without further incident. Is there a 12-step program for klutzes?
I don’t have much on Rachel today. Only that she walked in while I was cleaning the stove top this afternoon and said, "Oh, I like to do that!" So being the unselfish mother that I am, I stopped scrubbing immediately and told her I’d leave it for her.
In the "good news for the whole world" category, David has finally agreed that his AXE body spray must go. Emily likes to share a fun memory of her middle school days, when they were heading home from a basketball game and the boys in the back of the bus started spraying their AXE and setting it on fire. She wasn’t too worried about the fire hazard, but she said the smell of the body spray nearly did her in. Other than its being highly flammable, I simply cannot understand the fascination middle school boys have with this stuff. So I am happy David has outgrown it just in time for high school.
Of course, I do have a bit of bad news. As I was bringing the AXE can downstairs to dispose of it this morning, I accidently sprayed my hair with it. I didn’t have time for a shower so I just tried to cover it up with hair spray. And amazingly no one shunned me at the office.
Dave has a new obsession with the old bricks that the basement guys took off our foundation. He is putting them all over our yard. They are here, there and everywhere...in little arrangements. Every night when I get home, there are more bricks in more places. And the worst news is, he keeps asking me what I think. And the trouble is I can't really think about it until after the gryduation.
Speaking of the office, yesterday an 85-year-old client of mine finished her business with me and then started reminiscing about her days in the Army Nursing Corp during WWII. She told some interesting stories, and then mentioned two family members that were killed while in the service, one by sniper attack and the other by friendly fire. Twice she teared up, and so did I. As she left, she apologized for "boring" me with her stories. She couldn’t have been more wrong. My job is often stressful and frustrating and maddening. But every once in awhile, it offers me an unexpected pearl. Listening to this precious lady’s family history made me thankful that I was a lawyer, at least for that one day.
And I had a turkey and spinach sandwich for lunch today, and it was delicious.
But back to family news. Emily finished writing her Val speech and it’s pretty good but the one I wrote for her is better. I made my own bad self cry three times while writing it. But for some reason she thought she needed to write her own. She doesn’t seem to understand my need to live vicariously through her. I mean, if it hadn’t been for those B’s I kept getting in P.E. (because I couldn’t do a stupid roundoff or cartwheel) I would have been speaking at my own gryduation back in ‘76, so the least she could do is let me write the speech. But kids are so selfish these days.
In other Emily news, she has a bruised lip and a sore elbow, from two SEPARATE encounters with a car door. I just hope she makes it to gryduation without further incident. Is there a 12-step program for klutzes?
I don’t have much on Rachel today. Only that she walked in while I was cleaning the stove top this afternoon and said, "Oh, I like to do that!" So being the unselfish mother that I am, I stopped scrubbing immediately and told her I’d leave it for her.
In the "good news for the whole world" category, David has finally agreed that his AXE body spray must go. Emily likes to share a fun memory of her middle school days, when they were heading home from a basketball game and the boys in the back of the bus started spraying their AXE and setting it on fire. She wasn’t too worried about the fire hazard, but she said the smell of the body spray nearly did her in. Other than its being highly flammable, I simply cannot understand the fascination middle school boys have with this stuff. So I am happy David has outgrown it just in time for high school.
Of course, I do have a bit of bad news. As I was bringing the AXE can downstairs to dispose of it this morning, I accidently sprayed my hair with it. I didn’t have time for a shower so I just tried to cover it up with hair spray. And amazingly no one shunned me at the office.
Dave has a new obsession with the old bricks that the basement guys took off our foundation. He is putting them all over our yard. They are here, there and everywhere...in little arrangements. Every night when I get home, there are more bricks in more places. And the worst news is, he keeps asking me what I think. And the trouble is I can't really think about it until after the gryduation.
Speaking of the office, yesterday an 85-year-old client of mine finished her business with me and then started reminiscing about her days in the Army Nursing Corp during WWII. She told some interesting stories, and then mentioned two family members that were killed while in the service, one by sniper attack and the other by friendly fire. Twice she teared up, and so did I. As she left, she apologized for "boring" me with her stories. She couldn’t have been more wrong. My job is often stressful and frustrating and maddening. But every once in awhile, it offers me an unexpected pearl. Listening to this precious lady’s family history made me thankful that I was a lawyer, at least for that one day.
And I had a turkey and spinach sandwich for lunch today, and it was delicious.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
PARENTING SECRETS
With graduation only a week away, I forced all my children to help me clean house yesterday. I will let you in on a couple of little parenting secrets which I learned several years back. When you are forcing your children to help you clean, do not call to them in a chipper voice saying, "All hands on deck!" Then when you give them a job, don’t say, "When you’re finished, report back to me!" I mistakenly thought the use of these fun military-like phrases would make my children feel like little soldiers in our war against dirt and grime. Instead, they begged me to stop. And they asked me to quietly leave them a list of every job that needed doing and then to go away. Very rude, if you ask me. But that’s what I do now, and it seems to be working.
Rachel cleans my kitchen floor for me. She’s always had to do it on her hands and knees because the uneven texture of the tile traps dirt. But I did give her one of those stadium cushions to kneel on while she scrubs, so please don’t report me to child services. Anyway, she’s tried all sorts of sponges and brushes to make the job easier, but we haven’t hit on just the right tool for the job. So yesterday I took her to the store and we stood in the cleaning tools aisle and surveyed our options. We debated the advantages and disadvantages of brush after brush, and then we found these amazing mops with hard bristles on one side for "stubborn dirt". And I could tell she was a bit overwhelmed by all the choices, and then she started asking how much this mop was, and that brush. So I told her, "Honey, you can get anything you want here! Pick anything you like!" And she says I started gesticulating (her word) wildly, indicating that the sky was the limit when it came to buying cleaning tools for her. At which point, we both started to laugh and since we were starting to call attention to ourselves, we quickly selected the mop with bristles and moved on. And by the way, while we were checking out, she asked me for this warhead sour spray, which I find disgusting, but since it was on clearance I bought it for her. It
was the least I could do.
We ate at our local Mexican restaurant for lunch. I had a crispy flour taco and rice. But the real food highlight of the day was later when the girls and I went to a Mother-Daughter tea at church, where we had chicken salad, fresh berries, and cheesecake. Scrumptious!
Rachel cleans my kitchen floor for me. She’s always had to do it on her hands and knees because the uneven texture of the tile traps dirt. But I did give her one of those stadium cushions to kneel on while she scrubs, so please don’t report me to child services. Anyway, she’s tried all sorts of sponges and brushes to make the job easier, but we haven’t hit on just the right tool for the job. So yesterday I took her to the store and we stood in the cleaning tools aisle and surveyed our options. We debated the advantages and disadvantages of brush after brush, and then we found these amazing mops with hard bristles on one side for "stubborn dirt". And I could tell she was a bit overwhelmed by all the choices, and then she started asking how much this mop was, and that brush. So I told her, "Honey, you can get anything you want here! Pick anything you like!" And she says I started gesticulating (her word) wildly, indicating that the sky was the limit when it came to buying cleaning tools for her. At which point, we both started to laugh and since we were starting to call attention to ourselves, we quickly selected the mop with bristles and moved on. And by the way, while we were checking out, she asked me for this warhead sour spray, which I find disgusting, but since it was on clearance I bought it for her. It
was the least I could do.
We ate at our local Mexican restaurant for lunch. I had a crispy flour taco and rice. But the real food highlight of the day was later when the girls and I went to a Mother-Daughter tea at church, where we had chicken salad, fresh berries, and cheesecake. Scrumptious!
Friday, May 14, 2010
I FIND MYSELF YEARNING FOR THE SEA...THE SEA...
Yesterday morning, Dave and I drove an hour and a half to the middle school league music festival to hear David sing. And we made it on time and feel much better about ourselves as parents now. He sang a solo and it was about the sea. If you’ve ever heard your 14-year-old son sing kind of sweetly about yearning for the sea, then you can imagine how I felt yesterday. It was one of those good moments...which almost made me forget that earlier in the hall, he was flitting around between groups of people, and doing some kind of "trust fall" thing where he usually ended up sprawled on the floor. Apparently, he shouldn't have trusted some of those people. His accompanist is a friend of mine, and I asked her later if he was trouble all day, and she said no but she also smiled mysteriously at me, and I think I saw pity in her eyes.
So I guess it’s time to dust off the old cleaning supplies (literally) and get the house ready for this graduation. I’m pretty sure the reason those supplies get so dusty is because of the extremely dry climate around here, and not because of disuse. Although I was talking to our preacher’s wife a couple of weeks ago and asked her about this unsightly red mark on her finger, and she said it was a blood blister from scrubbing something or other. I was duly impressed...because I couldn’t remember EVER sustaining a cleaning injury in my life. And that’s probably why my house looks like it does.
In other graduation related news, the Senior Girls’ Tea did not make me cry even though the girls tried their best with that moronic song "There You’ll Be". Seriously, does any mother need to hear these kinds of lyrics just before graduation? (I’ll keep a part of you with me? In my heart there’ll always be a place for you?) I know I don’t. So I only focused on the words for a few seconds, and then I spent the rest of the time wondering what kind of cookies they were serving. It worked. We took pictures afterwards...and I notice I have kind of a blank stare thing going on. But I didn’t cry.
Dave got up at 5 this morning and went downstairs to start his morning ritual. Normally he gets up at 6, but he inadvertently set his clock an hour ahead. He didn’t notice that he was ahead of the game for some time, and by then it was too late to go back to bed. So he got a lot done this morning.
I had a turkey sandwich at our coffee shop for lunch. I ordered sour dough bread but they brought me plain white bread and this was a real food disappointment for me. I ate it anyway. The girls and I met some friends there and I didn’t want to cause a scene. Not that I ever do cause scenes...but there’s always a first time for everything.
So I guess it’s time to dust off the old cleaning supplies (literally) and get the house ready for this graduation. I’m pretty sure the reason those supplies get so dusty is because of the extremely dry climate around here, and not because of disuse. Although I was talking to our preacher’s wife a couple of weeks ago and asked her about this unsightly red mark on her finger, and she said it was a blood blister from scrubbing something or other. I was duly impressed...because I couldn’t remember EVER sustaining a cleaning injury in my life. And that’s probably why my house looks like it does.
In other graduation related news, the Senior Girls’ Tea did not make me cry even though the girls tried their best with that moronic song "There You’ll Be". Seriously, does any mother need to hear these kinds of lyrics just before graduation? (I’ll keep a part of you with me? In my heart there’ll always be a place for you?) I know I don’t. So I only focused on the words for a few seconds, and then I spent the rest of the time wondering what kind of cookies they were serving. It worked. We took pictures afterwards...and I notice I have kind of a blank stare thing going on. But I didn’t cry.
Dave got up at 5 this morning and went downstairs to start his morning ritual. Normally he gets up at 6, but he inadvertently set his clock an hour ahead. He didn’t notice that he was ahead of the game for some time, and by then it was too late to go back to bed. So he got a lot done this morning.
I had a turkey sandwich at our coffee shop for lunch. I ordered sour dough bread but they brought me plain white bread and this was a real food disappointment for me. I ate it anyway. The girls and I met some friends there and I didn’t want to cause a scene. Not that I ever do cause scenes...but there’s always a first time for everything.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
THE MOVING VAN
For several weeks now, our silver van has been parked on the street, not exactly blocking the mailbox but not completely out of the way either. And I knew our post-woman was probably getting annoyed and I’d been wanting to move it but no one in our family knew the whereabouts of the key. Of course. Anyway, I wasn’t surprised yesterday when I found a polite little note on one mail piece that said, "Please move your van," and I really did intend to find the key and move it...right after supper last night and that load of laundry and...well, you know.
And yes, I had maybe, sort of, forgotten about the problem by later in the evening, when I asked who wanted to walk down to the corner with me and get some roasted corn that somebody was selling out of a cooker. And Rachel and Dave agreed to go, but by the time we got to the corner the roasted corn people were gone. So then we decided to head back the other direction and see if we could scare up the proprietor and check out the house I’ve rented for graduation. But the place was occupied so we didn’t get to do that either.
So then we headed back home, but when we were about eight blocks from our house, we heard this loud crash and then Rachel gets a text that says, "Dude, your van." And then some police cars and fire trucks and an ambulance raced by. So we started walking faster. And as it turned out, Rachel’s boyfriend’s sister’s boyfriend (this is a small town) had plowed into the back of our van, and it was up on the curb and quite a few feet from where it was parked before. The boy was okay but Dave had to do some pounding on the wheel well before he could move the van off the tree-lawn...after miraculously locating the key of course.
But the funny thing was that today, when I went to get the mail, I found a polite little note on one mail piece that said, "Thanks for moving your van."
I ate an entire box of Carr’s table water crackers for lunch today. And I don’t know why.
And yes, I had maybe, sort of, forgotten about the problem by later in the evening, when I asked who wanted to walk down to the corner with me and get some roasted corn that somebody was selling out of a cooker. And Rachel and Dave agreed to go, but by the time we got to the corner the roasted corn people were gone. So then we decided to head back the other direction and see if we could scare up the proprietor and check out the house I’ve rented for graduation. But the place was occupied so we didn’t get to do that either.
So then we headed back home, but when we were about eight blocks from our house, we heard this loud crash and then Rachel gets a text that says, "Dude, your van." And then some police cars and fire trucks and an ambulance raced by. So we started walking faster. And as it turned out, Rachel’s boyfriend’s sister’s boyfriend (this is a small town) had plowed into the back of our van, and it was up on the curb and quite a few feet from where it was parked before. The boy was okay but Dave had to do some pounding on the wheel well before he could move the van off the tree-lawn...after miraculously locating the key of course.
But the funny thing was that today, when I went to get the mail, I found a polite little note on one mail piece that said, "Thanks for moving your van."
I ate an entire box of Carr’s table water crackers for lunch today. And I don’t know why.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
THE CHANGE-UP
A couple of final notes about my Mother’s Day. Besides what the girls got me, Dave again planted flowers for me in my pots. And if the wind ever stops blowing, I think he’ll move them out of the garage to the front of the house, where I will probably enjoy them more. The girls also wrote me sweet cards (I think this was a Sunday school assignment, but that’s neither here nor there). And sweet cinder-Rachel gave me "coupons" for housework and stuff, which I think might have been her idea.
Finally, I should also mention that David wrote me a poem (2 lines, but who’s counting) in which he rhymed MA’ MOM with DA’ BOMB. So that was special. Oh and he signed it with his full name. He also gave me a coupon for a "dinosaur" performance, which is this impression he does that I think is funny, only I have to bribe him to do it most of the time. I noticed at church Sunday he didn’t seem to be paying attention to the sermon but had his head down the whole time. Apparently this was when he was composing his poem and drawing the dinosaur coupon.
So I know I should have a little talk with the boy, but something else happened last night that put us back in groveling mode. That’s when we might have been a teensy-tiny bit late to the kids’ choir concert, and somehow missed ALL of David’s portion of the program. Seriously. But it really wasn’t our fault (Luke) because from time immemorial, this school has ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS had the band program first and THEN the choir. But last night they pulled a change-up on us and the choir sang first. And so now we’ll never know if his white socks showed as he climbed the risers, or if he started laughing inappropriately at something the choir teacher said or did. And now I feel like I should wait a bit before I lecture him about paying attention in church.
And I had to go to an ethics continuing ed class this morning, not because I’m in trouble or anything, but because it’s required by the Bar. So afterwards I drove through Wendy’s and got a junior bacon cheeseburger for lunch.
Finally, I should also mention that David wrote me a poem (2 lines, but who’s counting) in which he rhymed MA’ MOM with DA’ BOMB. So that was special. Oh and he signed it with his full name. He also gave me a coupon for a "dinosaur" performance, which is this impression he does that I think is funny, only I have to bribe him to do it most of the time. I noticed at church Sunday he didn’t seem to be paying attention to the sermon but had his head down the whole time. Apparently this was when he was composing his poem and drawing the dinosaur coupon.
So I know I should have a little talk with the boy, but something else happened last night that put us back in groveling mode. That’s when we might have been a teensy-tiny bit late to the kids’ choir concert, and somehow missed ALL of David’s portion of the program. Seriously. But it really wasn’t our fault (Luke) because from time immemorial, this school has ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS had the band program first and THEN the choir. But last night they pulled a change-up on us and the choir sang first. And so now we’ll never know if his white socks showed as he climbed the risers, or if he started laughing inappropriately at something the choir teacher said or did. And now I feel like I should wait a bit before I lecture him about paying attention in church.
And I had to go to an ethics continuing ed class this morning, not because I’m in trouble or anything, but because it’s required by the Bar. So afterwards I drove through Wendy’s and got a junior bacon cheeseburger for lunch.
Monday, May 10, 2010
A SMALL ERROR IN JUDGMENT
The middle school league track meet was this past Saturday, so we headed out to watch David triple jump in the morning (three scratches, by the way). Then we decided to run into the nearby "big city" to eat lunch and do some shopping before his races which were last on the schedule. We had lunch with some friends at a nice Chinese place and after we ate the waitress informed us that a man had paid our bill and the tip as well. She gave us his name and the weird thing was that none of us knew him, and since he had already left the restaurant, we’re still not sure what that was about. Dave figured it might be a past acquaintance that he’d completely forgotten. Because he tends to do that. But surely we would have recognized the name. So maybe it was just one of those random acts of kindness? Either way, we were obviously happy campers.
Next we went shopping for something for me to wear for Emily’s graduation. I always make the mistake of letting the girls pick some stuff out for me. And I probably should have been depressed after the scene in that dressing room, where I would try things on and those girls would LITERALLY fall to the floor laughing. But I’m just happy to provide them with the entertainment. Fortunately I found a few things that didn’t amuse them, so that’s what I bought. I’m pretty sure I’m going to look good, but it’s hard to be sure.
Our next stop was Target, where we basically sat in the snack bar visiting amongst ourselves because we had nothing better to do. This was actually quite enjoyable because we’d never done that before...and people came and went that we knew so we chatted them up...and Emily got a half-price Frappacino from Starbucks (we don’t know why)...and then we had some of their so-so pretzels. Finally, we roused ourselves and meandered through some of the aisles where I found and bought some stuff I don’t need off those clearance end caps, and the girls wandered away to find me some awesome Mother’s Day presents (a new Michael Buble CD and the BBC’s Emma).
Then, even though it was earlier than we thought David might run, Dave decided it was time to head back to the track meet because he gets antsy that way. So we headed back and as we approached the field, we noticed that the stands were half-empty, and that’s when I knew we were in trouble. Sure enough, David had already run his 800 (where he placed 5th, by the way) and was actually ON THE TRACK stretching and getting ready to run his leg of the 4x400. HOW EMBARRASSING. So we watched this last race (which they won, by the way, clinching the League title, by the way) and then we met up with the poor guy and groveled for awhile.
Then we headed back into the big city where we let him pick the restaurant for supper AND took him to a movie. And I think he forgave us.
I had a hamburger happy meal for lunch today. David called and asked me to take him out, and what was I going to say?
Next we went shopping for something for me to wear for Emily’s graduation. I always make the mistake of letting the girls pick some stuff out for me. And I probably should have been depressed after the scene in that dressing room, where I would try things on and those girls would LITERALLY fall to the floor laughing. But I’m just happy to provide them with the entertainment. Fortunately I found a few things that didn’t amuse them, so that’s what I bought. I’m pretty sure I’m going to look good, but it’s hard to be sure.
Our next stop was Target, where we basically sat in the snack bar visiting amongst ourselves because we had nothing better to do. This was actually quite enjoyable because we’d never done that before...and people came and went that we knew so we chatted them up...and Emily got a half-price Frappacino from Starbucks (we don’t know why)...and then we had some of their so-so pretzels. Finally, we roused ourselves and meandered through some of the aisles where I found and bought some stuff I don’t need off those clearance end caps, and the girls wandered away to find me some awesome Mother’s Day presents (a new Michael Buble CD and the BBC’s Emma).
Then, even though it was earlier than we thought David might run, Dave decided it was time to head back to the track meet because he gets antsy that way. So we headed back and as we approached the field, we noticed that the stands were half-empty, and that’s when I knew we were in trouble. Sure enough, David had already run his 800 (where he placed 5th, by the way) and was actually ON THE TRACK stretching and getting ready to run his leg of the 4x400. HOW EMBARRASSING. So we watched this last race (which they won, by the way, clinching the League title, by the way) and then we met up with the poor guy and groveled for awhile.
Then we headed back into the big city where we let him pick the restaurant for supper AND took him to a movie. And I think he forgave us.
I had a hamburger happy meal for lunch today. David called and asked me to take him out, and what was I going to say?
Sunday, May 9, 2010
ENROLLING EMILY
Emily becomes more and more callous with each passing day. She keeps announcing to me the number of days of high school she has left (8 by the way), and I picked up this odd-looking package in the back seat of her car the other day...and it was her cap and gown. Then one night she brings a half-dozen dresses to my room so I can help her pick one out for that tear-fest known as the "Senior Girl’s Tea". This annoyed me for two reasons. One because I knew I’d have to go to the tea and cry, and two, because she wasn’t asking for a new dress. I find myself reacting to these situations with teenage coping mechanisms. I sigh a lot, deeply and loudly. And at other times I just ROLL MY EYES. It’s working for me, so please don’t judge me.
Of course nothing screams IT’S OVER more loudly than what we did last Friday. Because that’s when we officially enrolled her in college. It was actually way less painful than I’d imagined it to be, not only because the process was amazingly efficient, but also because she was so excited to be there, bless her heart. It probably helped that she knew half the staff already, and that she got to walk out with that Mac Book. But along the way, she met some friendly fellow enrollees and interesting and funny professors, giving her much to look forward to in the fall.
Lest you think it was a perfect day, however, let me assure you that there were some glitches. First off and foremost, history professors should probably not be entrusted with freshman enrollment. Though charming and clearly intelligent, they were also clueless when it came to figuring out Emily’s schedule. But after several missteps, they graciously accepted defeat, and took Emily and her laptop over to the Registrar who "fixed" the schedule in a record 3 minutes.
And of course I had my personal problems. I wanted to look presentable at this thing not only so as not to embarrass poor Emily but also because I’d be meeting fellow parents at the parent orientation. But as I’m getting ready that morning, I realize I forgot to pack my make-up AND the clothes I planned to wear that day. Who does this kind of thing? I mean I only had to pack for one night and this one day. We weren’t going for a weekend...just for this ONE DAY. And I forgot everything basically. Well except for my two pillows, and something to sleep in.
So I borrowed Emily’s makeup...which made me look very young actually (pink lip gloss you know)...and I wore my old jeans that I’d traveled in, and then I tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. Which probably was a good idea anyway. And I think I only said a few strange things to people. I told one lady that I hoped Emily would eat a lot of yogurt while she was at college because it would help her stay regular, and then I told one of the IT people that Emily needed help but wouldn’t raise her hand. And he said which one is she, and I waved a hand in her general direction and said, "The Blond."
But the thing that intrigued me most about the day, and the reason I regretted that Dave couldn't come with me, was seeing the other parents there who were just like me. They looked like me (except they all seemed to be wearing their own makeup and an outfit they'd picked out AND PACKED for the day), and I knew they felt like me. They were excited and nervous and wanted to hover but didn’t want to hover at the same time. And at one meeting after hearing the professor describe some of the classes and some of the majors, I actually said, "I think I want to go back to school," and all the other parents nodded in agreement. In many ways, I can't wait for Emily to experience it all.
I had grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, spinach salad and garlic bread for lunch. My husband and children made and served it to me, because this is Mother's Day. I think I would like to live in a world where everyday is Mother's Day. Wouldn't you?
Of course nothing screams IT’S OVER more loudly than what we did last Friday. Because that’s when we officially enrolled her in college. It was actually way less painful than I’d imagined it to be, not only because the process was amazingly efficient, but also because she was so excited to be there, bless her heart. It probably helped that she knew half the staff already, and that she got to walk out with that Mac Book. But along the way, she met some friendly fellow enrollees and interesting and funny professors, giving her much to look forward to in the fall.
Lest you think it was a perfect day, however, let me assure you that there were some glitches. First off and foremost, history professors should probably not be entrusted with freshman enrollment. Though charming and clearly intelligent, they were also clueless when it came to figuring out Emily’s schedule. But after several missteps, they graciously accepted defeat, and took Emily and her laptop over to the Registrar who "fixed" the schedule in a record 3 minutes.
And of course I had my personal problems. I wanted to look presentable at this thing not only so as not to embarrass poor Emily but also because I’d be meeting fellow parents at the parent orientation. But as I’m getting ready that morning, I realize I forgot to pack my make-up AND the clothes I planned to wear that day. Who does this kind of thing? I mean I only had to pack for one night and this one day. We weren’t going for a weekend...just for this ONE DAY. And I forgot everything basically. Well except for my two pillows, and something to sleep in.
So I borrowed Emily’s makeup...which made me look very young actually (pink lip gloss you know)...and I wore my old jeans that I’d traveled in, and then I tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. Which probably was a good idea anyway. And I think I only said a few strange things to people. I told one lady that I hoped Emily would eat a lot of yogurt while she was at college because it would help her stay regular, and then I told one of the IT people that Emily needed help but wouldn’t raise her hand. And he said which one is she, and I waved a hand in her general direction and said, "The Blond."
But the thing that intrigued me most about the day, and the reason I regretted that Dave couldn't come with me, was seeing the other parents there who were just like me. They looked like me (except they all seemed to be wearing their own makeup and an outfit they'd picked out AND PACKED for the day), and I knew they felt like me. They were excited and nervous and wanted to hover but didn’t want to hover at the same time. And at one meeting after hearing the professor describe some of the classes and some of the majors, I actually said, "I think I want to go back to school," and all the other parents nodded in agreement. In many ways, I can't wait for Emily to experience it all.
I had grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, spinach salad and garlic bread for lunch. My husband and children made and served it to me, because this is Mother's Day. I think I would like to live in a world where everyday is Mother's Day. Wouldn't you?
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
TASTES AND LOOKS LIKE CHICKEN
I am not attempting to be full-service blog here, and I would never presume to take Martha Stewart’s place in anyone’s life. BUT I feel obligated to share with you a couple of household type items that I’ve run across lately.
First, and most riveting, was an article I saw in our monthly extension office newsletter. Apparently, researchers at the University of Missouri have created a SOY MEAT ALTERNATIVE that (and I quote here) "REALLY LOOKS LIKE CHICKEN". We can only hope this stuff hits the shelves by graduation so I can offer you soy meat alternative sandwiches for at least one meal.
My other tidbit stems from something I read on Yahoo, telling me how I could save big by making my own laundry soap. The ingredient list was a bit intimidating with 6-7 items, and an ominous note after one item that said GRATED. This sounded like more work than pleasure, but I read on thinking if we could fund a Hawaiian vacation with the vast savings, I could probably get one of my kids to do the grating. But finally came the math, and that’s when I realized why most people do not turn to Yahoo for household advice. Apparently, the actual savings would be about 15 cent per load, and since I do about a load a day, in a year I would save a whopping $54.75. Seriously. Call me lazy, but I just can’t grate soap for that.
I took David out for Chinese for lunch. He asked and I couldn’t say no.
First, and most riveting, was an article I saw in our monthly extension office newsletter. Apparently, researchers at the University of Missouri have created a SOY MEAT ALTERNATIVE that (and I quote here) "REALLY LOOKS LIKE CHICKEN". We can only hope this stuff hits the shelves by graduation so I can offer you soy meat alternative sandwiches for at least one meal.
My other tidbit stems from something I read on Yahoo, telling me how I could save big by making my own laundry soap. The ingredient list was a bit intimidating with 6-7 items, and an ominous note after one item that said GRATED. This sounded like more work than pleasure, but I read on thinking if we could fund a Hawaiian vacation with the vast savings, I could probably get one of my kids to do the grating. But finally came the math, and that’s when I realized why most people do not turn to Yahoo for household advice. Apparently, the actual savings would be about 15 cent per load, and since I do about a load a day, in a year I would save a whopping $54.75. Seriously. Call me lazy, but I just can’t grate soap for that.
I took David out for Chinese for lunch. He asked and I couldn’t say no.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
TRAVELING COMPANIONS
I’ve been on several road trips with just my girls lately. Because David happens to think he has a life too, and Dave graciously agrees to stay home with him to act as chaperone and chauffeur. And invariably these days, Rachel lets Emily ride shotgun both going and coming. She says she’s giving up her fair share of the front seat in deference to Emily’s imminent departure from home. But I think she secretly enjoys being the back seat girl.
And this is why. About thirty minutes into a trip, I will glance back and see that she has built herself a "nest" in that back seat. She will be surrounded by pillows and blankets with only her head and the top of her book visible. And she has that look on her face...the one that tells me she’s no longer with us in the car, except physically. And she won’t be back until she’s turned the final page and absorbed the last delicious word of that book. All of which is really cute, but doesn’t put her on my list of top traveling companions, if you know what I mean. Because I usually need someone to talk to me so I will stay awake.
And if anyone can keep me awake, it’s Emily. Because she can talk a blue streak (whatever that is) and there’s never a dull moment. Don’t get me wrong. She isn’t the perfect traveling companion either. For instance, she pops CDs in and out of the player every two minutes or so. There’s no such thing as listening to a whole song, let alone a whole CD. I call it CD-ADD. Eventually I will beg for mercy and she lets me turn it off altogether. And then comes the good part. We talk. For the most part, it’s enjoyable banter...especially now that we are planning end of high school shindigs and giddily anticipating her first year of college. We can’t seem to exhaust the subjects of if she’ll make new friends, if she’ll like her classes, and of course, if she’ll meet any nice guys.
But then for about 30 minutes of every trip, she will sink into a mini-depression, where everything is negative. She becomes convinced that she’ll NEVER make friends, that she’ll HATE her major, and that she would be better off at community college where MONEY won’t be an issue. The whole thing is kind of weird, and always catches me off guard because she’s never had trouble making friends, she can always change her major, and she knows about college loans. But of course, there’s no arguing with her when she is in Debbie-Downer mode. I just have to wait a bit and she’ll snap out of it. To be honest, I know how she feels. Because almost daily I struggle with similar thought trains, although the issues are slightly different. I mean right now I’m pretty convinced that I will NEVER have kitchen cabinets, that I’ll HATE any that I pick out, and that I’d be better off skipping the renovation because of the MONEY. Perhaps I've created the monster?
Anyway, by the time a trip is all said and done, I sometimes feel a bit shell-shocked. But at least I’m awake, and that’s the important thing. The three of us head out again tomorrow, this time for the real and actual college registration. I don't like it one bit, but I can't wait to see the nest being built in the back seat, and hear the ramblings and wailings in the front seat.
I haven’t had lunch yet but for breakfast I had some vanilla yogurt and a two-day-old Krispy Kreme donut.
And this is why. About thirty minutes into a trip, I will glance back and see that she has built herself a "nest" in that back seat. She will be surrounded by pillows and blankets with only her head and the top of her book visible. And she has that look on her face...the one that tells me she’s no longer with us in the car, except physically. And she won’t be back until she’s turned the final page and absorbed the last delicious word of that book. All of which is really cute, but doesn’t put her on my list of top traveling companions, if you know what I mean. Because I usually need someone to talk to me so I will stay awake.
And if anyone can keep me awake, it’s Emily. Because she can talk a blue streak (whatever that is) and there’s never a dull moment. Don’t get me wrong. She isn’t the perfect traveling companion either. For instance, she pops CDs in and out of the player every two minutes or so. There’s no such thing as listening to a whole song, let alone a whole CD. I call it CD-ADD. Eventually I will beg for mercy and she lets me turn it off altogether. And then comes the good part. We talk. For the most part, it’s enjoyable banter...especially now that we are planning end of high school shindigs and giddily anticipating her first year of college. We can’t seem to exhaust the subjects of if she’ll make new friends, if she’ll like her classes, and of course, if she’ll meet any nice guys.
But then for about 30 minutes of every trip, she will sink into a mini-depression, where everything is negative. She becomes convinced that she’ll NEVER make friends, that she’ll HATE her major, and that she would be better off at community college where MONEY won’t be an issue. The whole thing is kind of weird, and always catches me off guard because she’s never had trouble making friends, she can always change her major, and she knows about college loans. But of course, there’s no arguing with her when she is in Debbie-Downer mode. I just have to wait a bit and she’ll snap out of it. To be honest, I know how she feels. Because almost daily I struggle with similar thought trains, although the issues are slightly different. I mean right now I’m pretty convinced that I will NEVER have kitchen cabinets, that I’ll HATE any that I pick out, and that I’d be better off skipping the renovation because of the MONEY. Perhaps I've created the monster?
Anyway, by the time a trip is all said and done, I sometimes feel a bit shell-shocked. But at least I’m awake, and that’s the important thing. The three of us head out again tomorrow, this time for the real and actual college registration. I don't like it one bit, but I can't wait to see the nest being built in the back seat, and hear the ramblings and wailings in the front seat.
I haven’t had lunch yet but for breakfast I had some vanilla yogurt and a two-day-old Krispy Kreme donut.
Monday, May 3, 2010
RACINE AND MARY ANN
Here’s that story about my mom and her friend Mary Ann. Since I wrote it the day of the funeral, it is present tense as of that day and not today, and I’m not going to fix it...because I like it this way.
So Saturday, May 1, 2010:
I’m meeting all of my siblings for Mary Ann’s funeral today. We all drove in from out of town to attend, one brother from 10 hours away so he get the prize, but still. Our being here en masse is a testament to the friendship of our mother with this woman.
They met at church, I believe sometime in 1959. They were both in their mid-20s and each of them had a handful of children already. Mary Ann eventually had four children, my mom one-upping her by having five. I was less than two years old when they met, so I do not remember how they forged that friendship early on. I do know our families spent plenty of time together, on vacations and holidays and many times in between. One of my earliest memories is hunting Easter eggs in their back yard. They lived in the same town, attending the same church and developing this friendship for many years, but eventually Mary Ann moved away and I think the majority of their 46 or so years of friendship were spent living in different states.
The mystery, of course, is how they managed to stay close for those years apart. Because for most of those years, they didn’t have cell phones, facebook, or even email. I don’t think they wrote letters, and my mom was not a fan of talking on the phone. But somehow their lives and hearts remained linked. Proving once and for all that while technology may facilitate communication, it certainly isn’t is required when it comes to solid, life changing relationships.
What was it that bonded them so well? Was it their common faith? Their sharing of parenting and marital ups and downs? Their mutual love for quilting? I’m sure all that played into it. But I also know they both knew and were willing to pay the "cost of doing friendship". They made time for each other even when doing so involved inconvenience. I know when they got together after long absences, they talked and laughed like they had never been apart. I know my mother seemed younger when she was with Mary Ann. When Mom was around Mary Ann, she slipped out of her mom/wife mode and into her friend mode and I loved watching that. There was a comfort level between them that was visible to everyone around them.
I‘m pretty sure Mary Ann knew my mother better than I did, but that never made me feel bad. I was always thankful that my mom had her, and if anything, their friendship made me want "my own Mary Ann." Someone I know will be a vital part of my life, caring about me and in turn being cared about, for 46 years or until the day I die whichever comes first. But what they had was rare, and if you have a Mary Ann, you know what I’m talking about. Although when I think about it, I realize my mother had several other Mary Anns in her life, and I think even Mary Ann had other Racines in her life. Is this getting confusing? What I mean is, both of them knew how to make and keep friends. They knew how to keep the journey of a friendship alive and well. I know people my age that keep their friendships alive, but it seems even rarer these days. I hope it doesn't become a lost art with all our advanced "communication" tools. In any case, I am resolved to do better with all the potential Mary Anns in my life already. So if you don’t want to be my Mary Ann, you better run and hide.
After my mom died in 2005, I didn’t see Mary Ann as often. When I did, I always felt the absence of my mother a bit more, but also a bit less, if that makes any sense at all. That’s probably why it’s been so hard for me to say goodbye. I cried myself to sleep last night for the first time since my mom died.
So here’s what I will miss about Mary Ann. I will miss her voice. I can’t describe it of course, but it was calming and gentle with a twist of an Oklahoma drawl thrown in. I will also miss her sincere interest in me. She always asked me questions about my life…and made me feel that my answers were important to her. Not because my life is at all fascinating, but because that was who she was. But most of all I will miss the living connection she was to my mother. I will miss her because she loved my mother. And because she missed my mother like I do. I know she’s in a better a place but I will miss her presence on this earth.
And I know this is anticlimactic, but I had a turkey sandwich at Schlotzskly’s for lunch today. I was disappointed to find they were out of their store brand potato chips. They offered me Lay’s instead but I declined because they just don’t compare.
So Saturday, May 1, 2010:
I’m meeting all of my siblings for Mary Ann’s funeral today. We all drove in from out of town to attend, one brother from 10 hours away so he get the prize, but still. Our being here en masse is a testament to the friendship of our mother with this woman.
They met at church, I believe sometime in 1959. They were both in their mid-20s and each of them had a handful of children already. Mary Ann eventually had four children, my mom one-upping her by having five. I was less than two years old when they met, so I do not remember how they forged that friendship early on. I do know our families spent plenty of time together, on vacations and holidays and many times in between. One of my earliest memories is hunting Easter eggs in their back yard. They lived in the same town, attending the same church and developing this friendship for many years, but eventually Mary Ann moved away and I think the majority of their 46 or so years of friendship were spent living in different states.
The mystery, of course, is how they managed to stay close for those years apart. Because for most of those years, they didn’t have cell phones, facebook, or even email. I don’t think they wrote letters, and my mom was not a fan of talking on the phone. But somehow their lives and hearts remained linked. Proving once and for all that while technology may facilitate communication, it certainly isn’t is required when it comes to solid, life changing relationships.
What was it that bonded them so well? Was it their common faith? Their sharing of parenting and marital ups and downs? Their mutual love for quilting? I’m sure all that played into it. But I also know they both knew and were willing to pay the "cost of doing friendship". They made time for each other even when doing so involved inconvenience. I know when they got together after long absences, they talked and laughed like they had never been apart. I know my mother seemed younger when she was with Mary Ann. When Mom was around Mary Ann, she slipped out of her mom/wife mode and into her friend mode and I loved watching that. There was a comfort level between them that was visible to everyone around them.
I‘m pretty sure Mary Ann knew my mother better than I did, but that never made me feel bad. I was always thankful that my mom had her, and if anything, their friendship made me want "my own Mary Ann." Someone I know will be a vital part of my life, caring about me and in turn being cared about, for 46 years or until the day I die whichever comes first. But what they had was rare, and if you have a Mary Ann, you know what I’m talking about. Although when I think about it, I realize my mother had several other Mary Anns in her life, and I think even Mary Ann had other Racines in her life. Is this getting confusing? What I mean is, both of them knew how to make and keep friends. They knew how to keep the journey of a friendship alive and well. I know people my age that keep their friendships alive, but it seems even rarer these days. I hope it doesn't become a lost art with all our advanced "communication" tools. In any case, I am resolved to do better with all the potential Mary Anns in my life already. So if you don’t want to be my Mary Ann, you better run and hide.
After my mom died in 2005, I didn’t see Mary Ann as often. When I did, I always felt the absence of my mother a bit more, but also a bit less, if that makes any sense at all. That’s probably why it’s been so hard for me to say goodbye. I cried myself to sleep last night for the first time since my mom died.
So here’s what I will miss about Mary Ann. I will miss her voice. I can’t describe it of course, but it was calming and gentle with a twist of an Oklahoma drawl thrown in. I will also miss her sincere interest in me. She always asked me questions about my life…and made me feel that my answers were important to her. Not because my life is at all fascinating, but because that was who she was. But most of all I will miss the living connection she was to my mother. I will miss her because she loved my mother. And because she missed my mother like I do. I know she’s in a better a place but I will miss her presence on this earth.
And I know this is anticlimactic, but I had a turkey sandwich at Schlotzskly’s for lunch today. I was disappointed to find they were out of their store brand potato chips. They offered me Lay’s instead but I declined because they just don’t compare.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
UP AND DOWN THE EMOTIONAL STAIRCASE
I wrote my blatantly sentimental post about my mom’s friendship with Mary Ann yesterday, but it’s being held captive on my niece Katy’s laptop, because her internet isn’t working. Proving once and for all that even in the big city, technology can and will let you down. I wanted to post it on the day of the funeral but it was not to be. But hopefully, tomorrow.
Meanwhile, I have another little story for you because I am home now, where our small-town technology is holding up nicely. Shortly after Mary Ann’s funeral on Saturday, I was let in on a little secret. My niece’s boyfriend was planning to propose that very afternoon, and we were invited to the impromptu engagement celebration. Needless to say, when you attend a funeral (albeit an uplifting one) and an engagement party (complete with cake, celebration soda, and an enormous mylar balloon in the shape of an engagement ring) ON THE SAME DAY, it can be a bit draining emotionally. But all in all, the day was inspiring and good.
So Betsy said yes, which made for a much more festive party than it would have been otherwise. I can’t believe the little thing is old enough to be wearing an engagement ring, but I guess she is and we’re all pretty excited about it. Thomas, the proposer, took Betsy’s parents out to an early breakfast at Panera’s and "asked" for her hand. Or something like that. I wasn’t there of course. And that didn’t bother me at first, but later I was thinking about how he probably should have asked me too. Because from the day Dave and I moved in down the street from her when she was four years old, she was pretty much mine. I never left her house that she didn’t beg to go with me. After church services, she would go get in our car, not hers. I even sort of named her. So if Thomas had been thinking straight, he surely would have cleared his plans with me as well. But men in love are not always the most responsible so I will let it slide.
Especially because that night they let the whole family join them for dinner at Vito's, the restaurant where they had their first date. And the food was superb, despite the billing that it was "authentic Italian." Those words have always scared me since my trip to Italy last spring...where the meatballs and pepperoni always looked and tasted a bit strange.
And today, I had a burrito from Taco Bell, and two chicken strips from Kentucky Fried Chicken for lunch. We were on the road and stopped at one of those combo-restaurants which is always a mistake for me because I get so conflicted.
Meanwhile, I have another little story for you because I am home now, where our small-town technology is holding up nicely. Shortly after Mary Ann’s funeral on Saturday, I was let in on a little secret. My niece’s boyfriend was planning to propose that very afternoon, and we were invited to the impromptu engagement celebration. Needless to say, when you attend a funeral (albeit an uplifting one) and an engagement party (complete with cake, celebration soda, and an enormous mylar balloon in the shape of an engagement ring) ON THE SAME DAY, it can be a bit draining emotionally. But all in all, the day was inspiring and good.
So Betsy said yes, which made for a much more festive party than it would have been otherwise. I can’t believe the little thing is old enough to be wearing an engagement ring, but I guess she is and we’re all pretty excited about it. Thomas, the proposer, took Betsy’s parents out to an early breakfast at Panera’s and "asked" for her hand. Or something like that. I wasn’t there of course. And that didn’t bother me at first, but later I was thinking about how he probably should have asked me too. Because from the day Dave and I moved in down the street from her when she was four years old, she was pretty much mine. I never left her house that she didn’t beg to go with me. After church services, she would go get in our car, not hers. I even sort of named her. So if Thomas had been thinking straight, he surely would have cleared his plans with me as well. But men in love are not always the most responsible so I will let it slide.
Especially because that night they let the whole family join them for dinner at Vito's, the restaurant where they had their first date. And the food was superb, despite the billing that it was "authentic Italian." Those words have always scared me since my trip to Italy last spring...where the meatballs and pepperoni always looked and tasted a bit strange.
And today, I had a burrito from Taco Bell, and two chicken strips from Kentucky Fried Chicken for lunch. We were on the road and stopped at one of those combo-restaurants which is always a mistake for me because I get so conflicted.
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