Not Quite What I Meant

“Flash, you know, I didn’t really expect this driving thing to be quite so hard on me.”

“What do you mean, Mom?”

“Well, I remember quite clearly, how difficult it was to endure you learning how to ride a bike. It was one of the most painful things I went through as a mother. Luckily, it only took a few days. I guess I thought teaching you how to drive would be difficult, but the difficulty would be short-lived, like the bike-riding was. You had it mastered in about three short days.”

“Yeah, but I sure fell a lot in those three short days.”

“But that’s part of learning, Flash. When you learned to walk, you fell and you got up. You fell, and you got up. When you learned to ride a bike, you fell and you got back on the bike, you fell and you got back on. It’s just part of the process.”

“So what you’re saying, Mom, is that to learn how to drive I need to crash over and over?”

“Um, not exactly, no.”

Dear Mom

Today is one of those calendar days where it’s hard not to think of you. You come to mind on so many other days as well, but today, the day you had to leave, is one of the hardest every year.

You’ve come to mind often, the past few days and weeks. I’m changing to a new classroom this year and I’m scared to death. I know you’d say just the thing I need to hear. I know you’d laugh about first graders and tell me entertaining stories of the three of us when we were that age. You’d help me with sewing and creating all the little things I need that are bogging me down from focusing on the new curriculum, the new assessments, the new lesson plans. I know you’d be here, supporting, encouraging and laughing. I could really use it about now.

Did you see us playing Canasta? The last time I played that game I am sure we were partners. How long has it been since we played? 25 years? I played this time with two boys I love and realized you’ve never met either of them. That very thought just makes my heart heavy sometimes. You would have been so proud of Dad and the prank he played on your grandson! You would have been right in the thick of it, too. You’d have pulled several of your own, I’m sure.

I am certain, every time I am in Tennessee that you are in Heaven laughing. It’s hard to believe, isn’t it, that this family of ours actually boats?! I never thought I would thank you for the years of shivering swimming lessons at the City Park Pool, but they sure have come in handy. Dad even got in the water this time. It may be well over 25 years since I’ve seen that happen.

I was travelling again on my birthday this year. Seems appropriate after all the times we did it when I was young. I didn’t much like turning 40, though, thinking of how few years you had after your 40th. And I can’t help but think of how much you would have loved retirement. Travelling, visiting friends often, having the grandchildren come and stay.

It’s been a long time since I heard your laugh or saw your smile or that mischievious twinkle in your eye. I miss your hugs. I miss how you would exclaim, “Eliza is home!” when I walked in the door. While I don’t want to rush things down here, I sure can’t wait to hear you say those words to me one more time.

I love you, Mom.

Eliza Jane

The Endangered Blue-Tailed Skink

While in Tennessee, Flash became obsessed interested in the Blue-Tailed Skink.


He searched high…

…and he searched low. He would abandon a game of pool to run off and chase a skink.

When we couldn’t get him to take his headphones off or abandon his computer to be social with any of us, we could merely whisper “skink” and he’d go running.

And then, finally, he caught one. He was beyond excited. We all came out and took excessive numerous photos of the occasion.

Blue-tailed indeed. Flash’s lizard was not to be mistaken. He was quite disappointed that his mother would not allow him to take the lizard home as a “gift” to his girlfriend, but he took photos and played with the lizard until it escaped and he felt quite satisfied that he had accomplished a terrific feat.

Until…
We were all playing cards around the table when Papa’s cell phone went off with a new text message. His face became quizzical and then upset as he read the text. He shared with us the message, “The SPCA of Eastern Tennessee has received notification that a member of your household has tampered with an endangered species. An official summons will be sent via mail in three business days. Subsequent fines and/or punishments may be enforced if a violation can be proven.”
The table grew silent. Flash’s face turned red.
“What endangered animal?” we innocently asked.
“Must be the Blue-Tailed Skink,” he said.
“Endangered? I didn’t know it was endangered!” exclaimed Flash.
Much talk ensued around the table as to how we were spotted and who in the neighborhood might have reported the incident. “There was that white van that went by while we were out in the driveway,” WG chimed in.
“We’ll have to destroy all the pictures,” Papa said. “They could incriminate us.”
Flash feverishly google’d the Blue-Tailed Skink. “There’s nothing in here about it being endangered! They must be mistaken!”
“Well, maybe it wasn’t really a Blue-Tailed Skink. Could it be some other kind of skink?”
Flash pulled up multiple pictures of skinks, scouring each page at a furious rate to figure out where the confusion might lie. He shouted stats at the table in a crisp, legal defense. “The Mole Skink of southern Florida is on the endangered list, but it doesn’t look anything like the skink I had!”
He continued to scan the pages, again and again, with increasing emtion, refuting the claim. He was passionately adamant that the skink he had held and photographed was a not a protected species.
The table grew silent as Papa suggested we await the written notice and see what steps we might take to refute the claim. Flash was not placated by any of our reassurances. He sat, with stricken face, his mind running through various scenarios, trying desperately to find clear and rational proof of his innocence.
Papa excused himself from the table. When he returned, he suggested calmly that we re-read the message and see if maybe there’s something we originally missed.
“Verizon wireless would like to offer you a new Droid phone for only…”
We all sat and looked at Flash. It took a full, long, breathless minute for him to realize he’d been had. Papa had pulled off one of the best pranks ever. Flash laughed with relief and admitted he had been gotten. We all congratulated Papa on a well-played joke and patted ourselves on the backs for being able to go along with it on the fly so well.
It may be a long time before Flash lives down the Endangered Blue-Tailed Skink Incident.

As for the skink, I think if he took on an Australian accent, he might just have a career in advertising.

Vacation

Squeezed in between the week James requested off nearly a year ago and Flash’s epic return to band camp, we snuck in a quick but wonderful trip to Tennessee to see my dad and Judy.
Of course there was charring grilling.

And card playing.

Suspicious card playing indeed.

And presents. Who can beat presents?!

I don’t understand it, but apparently some teenagers people prefer simple thank you notes to deep-felt hugs! Who knew?

There may have been an unadvertised and certainly not competitive photo shoot.

While we have been taking our children to Tennessee for many years, one thing remains the same: the children never really mature age.


There was tubing, of course.

Which for some reason involves playing the air guitar.

(What would his girlfriend say?!)



There were some of us who returned home with a very sore elbow and stern words from his doctor to “stop acting like you are 20 and just drive the boat!”

but I won’t mention any names. Ahem.

There was laughing, of course.

And evil, maniacal water fights.


And beautiful sunsets

(even if these clouds did contain many bolts of lightning and threatening thunder).

We had a great time and all three of us thank the Tennessee clan for their generous hospitality year after year. We hope next time we can stay just a bit longer!

The New Thirty?

I liked birthdays better when I was this age.

(Look, Jules! Turtle candles! Thank goodness we don’t have 40 of those!)

Or I would even take this age. Although I didn’t get a guinea pig for my birthday. Even with that fantastic begging expression.



Fortunately for me, turning 40 this year wasn’t too painful.

In fact, I enjoyed it so much, I think I’ll turn 40 again next year!

Flash’s birthday card to me read, “When it’s your birthday, you should get cake and a comfy place to eat it. *hint hint* Happy Birthday, Mom. May many an afternoon be spent napping in the sun.” Flash went way overboard and bought me a hammock.

He had it secretly shipped to Dad’s so I could open it on my actual birthday.

He single-handedly put it together when we arrived home.

Flash, I guarantee I will spend many an afternoon napping in just this spot. What a great gift!

WG gave me a silver pendant necklace and a great new CD that we rocked to on the trip home. Had I not been so stubborn about waiting until later to open my gifts, we might have rocked out to it on the way down to TN as well. Silly me. When we arrived back home, he gave me one last gift. A meat pounder. He didn’t think that was an appropriate gift for me to open in front of my father. Or else maybe he thought I might use it on him when he beat me at pool.

In either case, it’s the little things, right, WG? *wink*

Dad and Judy added to my new collection of dishes. They discovered dishes I didn’t know existed!! Don’t you love the flowers on the insides of the bowls? I need to have a dinner party so I can put all the dishes to use! They are going to look great on my new dining room table. But that is a whole ‘nother post.

Jules and Bear gave me two more window boxes for the house. I can’t wait to put them up next spring and plant them with beautiful, draping flowers! I’m so excited about how gorgeous they will look!

Thanks to all of my family and friends for the emails, texts, cards, gifts and laughs that made this year a truly wonderful year, indeed!

Anniversary

From the first exchange of phone numbers and a date three days later to see “True Grit”, WG and I are celebrating six great months together. We’ve visited our local air zoo (where we did far more stolling and talking than looking at any airplanes) to a trip to Illinois to visit friends and check off a bucket-list item at the John Deere museum to boot. We’ve travelled to South Haven to watch the sunset, Mackinaw to see the lakes and even Detroit to catch a game.

I always hoped to find a man that shared my faith to fall in love with.

Maybe, just maybe, I have found him.

Happy Anniversary, WG!

“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.”

1 Corinthians 13:13

Fairweather Fan?

I’ve admitted many times, I totally jumped on the Red Sox bandwagon. I had been a fan of the Mariners for many years, until my cousin retired from the team. When the Red Sox beat the dreaded Yankees in such beautiful fashion in 2004, I knew exactly who my new team would be. Bandwagons be darned, I am a Red Sox fan to the death now.

But the Pats? I’ve liked the Pats since I first got into football. The friend that got me hooked on professional football (I wonder if he has any idea the monster he created?!) was a Patriots fan and so cheering for them came naturally. I’ve been a fan of the Pats for the good and the bad.

That said, OCHOCINCO!?!?!? I mean, swallowing the idea that Haynesworth was joining the team was enough to make me choke, but Ochocinco?! The man who can’t even translate his number correctly (“ochocinco” means “eight five” in Spanish) is now going to play for my beloved Pats?! I know Belichick has made questionable moves in the past that later that turned out to be genius, but I fear this is as logical as spygate. What is the man thinking?!?!

I’m appalled. I’m stunned. I’m not at all sure how to root for my team now. I love my New England boys, but OCHOCINCO?!?

Sigh.

I’ve spent all these months wondering if there will even BE football this year and then after exhaling, I find out this. I’m not sure if I’m ready for some football now.

The Things I Learn From My Students

I was tutoring one of my former third graders this morning. We were working on reading comprehension and application skills. He had just read a story about three different kinds of bears, and I was asking him to think about the story “Goldilocks and the Three Bears” and how it would change if we changed the type of bear in the story. We were discussing what would be different about the fairy tale if Goldilocks had stumbled upon the home of polar bears. My student named several differences, the weather, what Goldilocks might be wearing, what sort of “home” it might be that she stumbled upon…and then he said, “But the house would have electricity!”

“It would?” I inquired. “In the Arctic Circle?”

“That’s the North Pole, right?” He confirmed. “Yep. Santa has electricity.”

Well then, of course polar bears would have electricity in a fairy tale set at the North Pole. What on earth was I thinking?!

Sweet

You know you have a really sweet boyfirend when he says he made plans for our Saturday night and he’ll pick me up at 4. We went to the lake and ate dinner (amazing dinner, I might add – we split the best crab cakes I’ve ever had along with a burger that might fit into the same category). We wandered in and out of the shops, stopping for an ice cream cone before walking down to the lake to watch the sunset. Ahhhh…so sweet.

The evening was perfect.

But that’s not what makes my boyfriend so sweet.

Leaving the lake, I suggest we put the top on the Jeep part way down. It’s a gorgeous night, not a cloud in the sky, and I can think of nothing better than spending the half hour ride home, stargazing and enjoying the summer evening. WG indulged me and we had the top back and were on our way.

Sweet man, indeed.

But that’s still not what was truly sweet.

It was about ten miles down the road, when I have put my sweater on, and tucked my bare legs underneath me, and crossed my arms in an effort to keep warm, that my beyond-sweet boyfriend, without saying a word, simply reaches over and turns on the heat.

Now that, my dear friends, is a sweet, sweet man indeed.

Two Reasons I'm so Glad it Wasn't Our First Date

I took WG out to dinner and a movie tonight. Not being a TV watcher, I’m completely out of touch with what is playing on the big screen, so I took a recommendation from some girlfriends and headed off to the cinema for the lastest comedy without knowing much of anything about the movie we were about to see. Let’s just say, I sat through the entire film with my hand over my mouth and my eyes bugging out of my head in complete shock. I could not believe what was being said, done or implied on the big screen. I spent the rest of the evening apologizing profusely for having chosen such a film. WG was perhaps equally embarrassed and entertained by the situation, but knew me well enough to know this wasn’t at all like me, or my sort of a film.

Scared after that experience to choose a new restaurant for fear it might be a strip club in disquise, we went with a familiar place and sat in the lobby waiting for a table. As a couple entered the door, I commented quietly to WG that they didn’t seem to go together at all. The man had tattoos all up and down his arm, and the woman was dressed in a cutesy outfit, including a sunflower barrett in her hair. They ended up sitting next to us to wait and it didn’t take us long to realize they were on a first date. It was all WG and I could do to contain ourselves. The woman talked incessantly while they waited. Telling the man about her recent move to the area, having quit her job, left her home and everything she owned back in Ohio, she moved up here, moved in with her mom and is starting over. She talked about her son, and how she doesn’t have custody exactly, but had guardianship and she’s trying to hold that over her ex’s head as though she might request custody at any point (heaven help the child). She talked and talked and talked and the man just sat and nodded without getting a word in. WG and I were trying to devise a plan to help the poor lad escape an entire dinner of this train wreck when they called us to our table.

As we ate, we laughed about the movie experience and the eavesdropping in the lobby and both of us were so thankful that we were not out on a first date together. I cannot imagine what impression he might have had of me had this movie been our first date instead of “True Grit”. And I am glad that neither of us are living with our parents, without a job, without custody of the children we have and without a clue that we are a mess and should not be seeking a relationship at this point.

While Date Night didn’t go quite as smoothly as I had hoped (who knew that Winnie the Pooh might have been the best choice afterall?) we had a great time tonight.

I just hope he’ll still call me tomorrow.