Day Late Dollar Short

Even though technically he became Mr 20 yesterday, I still intend to tout his virtues today. Why? Because yesterday my Internet decided to take a pre Thanksgiving vacation leaving me to actually have to work on things besides the computer.

Dear Son,
20 years ago today (yesterday) as I lay in a hospital bed, after waiting for 36 hours and missing Thanksgiving dinner, you were born. As with most things in your life you chose to make it difficult. You weren't coming out, period. You decided that it was warm and toasty where you were, and the contractions coming 5 minutes apart for the past 36 hours could not convince you otherwise. Finally though, the pitocin drip had just the right effect on you. But the pitocin drip made me want to scream and rip someones head off. The (male) Doc decided it was time. And we commenced pushing, and pushing and pushing, and you must have grabbed hold of my lower rib and held on for all you were worth because you were NOT coming out. We should have guessed then exactly how terribly stubborn you were going to be. The (male) Doc then decided to try forceps, but oh no, not one set of forceps, he went through 3 different types of forceps. In the end, I told him to knock it off, and you were finally born. Sometimes I do win arguments between you and I, and I won this one!

Hubby and I were exhausted and thrilled and at 21 and 23 had no idea of the path that was ahead of us. You were a cry-er, and not a sleeper, and the exhaustion over having a newborn seemed overwhelming. So what did we do? 3 weeks after you were born we packed up our small household and moved 120 or so miles away from our closest family. No one ever said 20 something year old parents were geniuses.

We spent 6 months in a lack of sleep induced stupor before finally giving up and moving closer to help. (And a college we could afford for me to attend!)

Son, you are stubborn, over the years we have had innumerable clashes of opinion. Our opinions weren't the same regarding curfews, privileges, homework, grades, girls, friends, chores, TV viewing habits... The list would be long. We fought, we fight. You have learned lessons from me, (I hope) and I have learned lessons from you, my oldest child. You taught me to be a better parent. You taught me patience. You taught me the value of a well written note instead of a yelling, screaming face off. You taught me that at times, if I just shut up, you'll talk, eventually. I've learned that things I never imagined you listened to me about have actually helped you in the long run and you have repeated them to others.

I've learned to text, and text well, because that is the only way you speak to me during those long, long months you are away at college. I have learned that when my phone rings, and you actually call me, it's because you forgot to do something, you have lost something or you need me to mail you something.

Even though we don't always see eye to eye, I have learned things about you from others. I have learned what an amazing friend you are, and how people rely on you. I have learned you are the first one to volunteer to help someone who needs you: whether it's to jump start a car, give a ride to someone who shouldn't be driving (even when you've been in bed asleep for 2 hours already), shovel out a stuck car, drive someone when they have no other way to get there, talk on the phone at all hours of the night to someone who just needs your ear, ask me questions that they are too scared to ask their own parents when they need advice, speak out for someone who is too afraid to use their own voice, etc. The list goes on and on. You have become an amazing young man, and I am very, very proud of you!

I am convinced that as life goes on we will still disagree, and I am ok with that. I hope you are too, because I've learned so much from you and even when we don't agree, I think you learn from me too. Mr 20, I miss you with all my heart and soul when you are away at college, but I know that moving forward with your life is your new path. But even then, I wish I could bring you home, curl you up in your aqua blanket and your Elmo and snuggle with you while we read "Where The Wild Things Are." Happy Birthday to my first born and only son. Enjoy your 20's!

Growing Up

When they were little I stepped all over Lego's that littered the floor.
Now, I trip over dirty towels on his bedroom floor and random socks littering wherever he drops them.

When they were little I picked up little pieces of Polly Pockets that covered each bedroom. (otherwise the cat eats them and hacks them up!)
Now, I pick up headbands and pony tail holders left wherever they are taken from their hair.

When they were little I poured them bubble baths and dumped in a mountain of toys.
Now, I'm barely allowed in the bathroom when they are showering unless they need a razor, a new bottle of shampoo or a bar of soap.

When they were little I got hugs and kisses before bed, along with begging for one more story.
Now, I'm lucky if I get a "Good night, Mom" from the older two, so I cherish the hugs, kisses and random rambling that I get from Miss 11.

When they were little I scrubbed stains out of underwear, grass stains out of knees and spaghetti sauce stains out of tshirts.
Now, all of their bathroom towels are have bleached handstains where they've neglected to wash their acne medication from their fingers before touching them.

When they were little playing a game with Hubby and I was fun on a Friday night.
Now, I beg for 15 minutes of their time before they head out with their friends.

When they were little a kiss from Mom cured all their woes.
Now, a kiss from them, might cure mine.

Motivate

Here is the weather we've been having of late. It's not just a one day thing, or a one week thing, it is what our skies have looked like for about 2+ weeks. It's not really all that motivating, but it is really cold!

It's been in the teens at night already, and we've had highs that are barely 30 degrees. I don't do well with cold temps, but I do even worse with cloudy weather. The clouds make me tired, lethargic, crabby, any of those unhappy words you can think of, I've been there in the last few weeks.

It doesn't mean that I'm not busy, and I'm not getting everything done that I typically do, it just means that I'm not feeling it. I'm not too excited about anything, I don't feel the joy that I usually do when I hear Miss 11 giggling, or when she throws her arms around me and gives me a sloppy kiss on the cheek. Mostly I feel like one of those clouds have moved into my head and put a damper on me.

It must be bad when even Hubby starts to complain about the clouds. Miss 16 on the other hand, loves cloudy weather. So I don't hear her complaining too much about the clouds.

Mostly what I hear her complaining about right now is nearly everything else. She's tired out, physically and emotionally, from the huge job that is school and a swim season. These early morning practices and thousands of yards of swimming are doing her in. (Plus, I think, the new medication she is on for her heart makes her really crabby... shhhhhhh... don't tell her I said that!)

Meanwhile we have a few busy days ahead and I'm hoping that it will pull all of us out of this bit of cloudy weather, even if it's only in our minds. We have 2 swim meets at our home pool coming up along with 2 performances of a play where we have Miss 11 as some sort of "octet" character. Although the clouds may be outside I hope the excitement of a good swim meet and the joy of kindergarten through grade 6 performing on stage is enough to put a bit of sun in our lives.

An Ending

Miss 11 ran her final cross country race yesterday. She swears that next year she is swimming and next year she'll be in 7th grade and she will have to chose. Her favorite quote the day of a CC race that she doesn't feel like running is, "I'm a swimmer, not a runner!" Her coaches would beg to differ with her opinion as they often comment on her smooth stride and legs that carry her forever. There are days where she has a rough time with the race. Last week after a particularly windy and cold race she was in tears over how much her ears hurt. Also the fact that she chose to eat nearly 2 slices of french bread pizza about 40 minutes before the race and those pieces were threatening a return appearance. Yesterday she crossed the finish line, stopped short and ran to me laughing because her nose was dripping like crazy and she needed a tissue there was no whining and no complaining. Cross country is so far from a glamorous sport. The finish line is typically a mish mash of runny noses and other bodily functions that we'll leave to your imagination.

But I know, in spite of all her protestations that Miss 11 will really miss this sport. She knows she's good at it, she loves to run, and she has the endurance. But because the seasons overlap she has to choose. I've enjoyed watching her run. I'm proud that she can do something that I can't. She's got a faster mile time then I think I ever had in my entire life. Hopefully the skills and ability she learned here will stay with her, and she won't be scared to run for exercise or pleasure as she ages. Our goal with involving our children in these sports isn't for top billing at a state tournament and it's not for scholarships to college. Our goal is to give them the ability to exercise for their health and not hate or dread it.

Miss 11 took 2nd in this race with her fastest mile time yet. But most importantly, she had fun and we are proud of her!

Have You Heard The Song...

God Is Great, Beer is Good, People are Crazy?? I think it's a Dierks Bentley song, not sure though as I have only heard mention of it, and haven't actually heard more than the chorus. But my point being, that it is so true! Well, the people are crazy part is anyway. The beer part I don't understand, because I can't drink it, and the God is Great part, well, I get that part.

Just today, I have dealt with the strangest things, making me think the world is falling apart.

1. It's homecoming week here. That means the band is having extra practices for marching in the parade and playing pep band music. These extra practices are early in the morning so as not to interfere with sports practices. Well guess what? Miss 16 has swimming practices in the morning AND the afternoon, so Miss 16 has had to deal with trying to figure out what in the world to do, which does she go to and which teacher/coach does she disappoint? The band practice is for points towards their grade and the swim practice is mandatory if they want to go to the State meet. So she talks to her coach, tells her she has to go to practice. And the coach chews her out (along with the other band students) as if it is their fault they have practice. This only happens for 1 week during all of swim season I think a little leeway is in order here.

2. Miss 16 is in a confirmation class which meets once a week, Wednesday evenings and has meetings on some weekends. For whatever reason the Church has decided to hold a retreat on a TUESDAY during the school day. Did you see that? During the school day... If your child is due to be confirmed this year, which Miss 16 is, they are "expected" to be at this retreat. Are they crazy? They want our kids to skip school for a day to go to this retreat? I and other parents have been calling the correct people at the Church and expressing our negative opinions on this subject. We've had these retreats before, always after school hours, but during school hours? What are they thinking?

3. Our USA swimming club has decided to extend their season. Normally it runs from November to March, and by March my kids are completely burned out. It is swim practice every night during the week for 2 hours each night. It's a long, long tiring season and most of us parents wonder why in the world it has to last so many months. For whatever reason the club has decided to add to this season by having a "pre-season" during October. The kids are to come, pay 100 bucks for this privilege mind you, and swim 3 nights a week from 7 to 9 and then again on Saturday mornings for 2 hours. So that they will be in shape for the regular swim season when it starts. Isn't that what the regular season is for? Am I misunderstanding something here? A pre-season for young kids swim team? What in the world?

I've got more, but for tonight that is going to have to suffice, because those are the only facts I can keep straight right now. I could list the other crazy things, like the fundraisers and party I am helping with for Miss 11's elementary school, and the strange little things going on with those, but for right now, my head hurts, and I need to sort all this out before I can comment any farther.

Just in case you thought that life was smooth sailing: God Is Great, Beer (Rum) is Good and People are CRAZY!!

Lunatic Fringe

It runs through my family, anxiety. It's something Miss 11 has been struggling with since she was 2 and we could not leave her with a babysitter, no matter who it was, believe me, we tried and tried and tried.

Inside though I know where her anxiety comes from. Once in a while, well, actually more frequently then I would care to admit, it builds up in me. I get to a point where everything makes me nervous or afraid. Typically my stress level has to be pretty high before I really start to feel it. Sometimes it's for no real reason. Sometimes it's for the little things that normal people don't even give a second thought. Most of the time I just let it bubble beneath the surface. I manage it just fine and the only person who ever knows how bad it is is Hubby. (And it drives him crazy, but he tries hard to be kind while letting me know that I am a lunatic!)

Yesterday Miss 11 had a cross country meet. I couldn't drive her there, so she was riding with her coach and 4 other girls. See a problem? Yeah, most people wouldn't, but I did. By noon yesterday I was shaking, I was scared, nervous and on the verge of tears. Miss 11 hadn't even left town yet. I knew, they'd be driving on a two lane road, through lots of rough hills and valleys, with a lot of oil truck traffic. I had just driven the same road last weekend and it was horrific with traffic, truck traffic. So my mind raced with possibilities and none of them were happy possibilities. My nerves were shot and I wondered how I let my mind travel to this place. I texted Hubby, who naturally reassured me, over and over and over again before he finally called. Then admitted he was at a loss to help me and I needed to relax.

Today I'm better, but I'm wired and worried about Miss 16 being on the road, going to a swim meet without being medicated for her heart and without me being there. (It will be the first this season, and only, Sunday we finally get to start her on new meds!) I feel my mind reaching for the same place it was yesterday, that place where all I can think about is the safety of my children, and the fact that I can not protect them and have them with me every second of the day.

I stew daily over Hubby being on the road, 30 minutes each way, to get to work. I worry about his profession and all the dangerous equipment he works with daily. Plus the fact that he insists on pushing himself beyond what most humans can handle.

I worry every day when Miss 16 backs out of the driveway. I worry about her backing into the ugly pick up that is CONSTANTLY parked right behind her car on the opposite side of the street. I worry about Mr 19 sleeping through his alarm at college, and without a room mate, who will wake him for class? I worry about Miss 11 and how difficult it is for her to make new friends. Worry.. worry.. worry...

I wonder where that line is, the one that runs between normal every day worries and the other side of anxious where there is that loss of control. I wonder if I am already on that other side and I just can't see it. Who decides what a normal amount of worry is, and what is worth worrying about? And when did I become this worrywart?

Bookmaster

This week I was privileged to get to spend 2 days as the librarian at Miss 11's school. I've taught nearly every type of class there is at an elementary school at one time or another as a substitute teacher. I've been all 7 grades, I've been the PE teacher for an extended time, I've taught music, I've been in the technology room, I was the LD teacher for almost 5 months at one school and 4 months at another, I've even covered the secretaries desk now and then, though not a full day. By far my favorite job is the librarian. I get to see all the kids, I get to read to them, I get to talk to them about what interests them, there aren't too many discipline problems and I get to send them back to their teachers.

This week I had all 6 grades along with 2 classes of kindergarten in 2 days. It was busy, but not too busy and it was fun to see all of the students. My only complaint would be that it has been nearly 90 degrees out both days I taught, and there is no air conditioning in the library. There is a fan, but it's broken. So it was toasty and muggy both days. The worst came when the 5th graders, all 25 of them, came directly to library from PE, where they had been running. Oh, it was a joyous mixture of odors that afternoon.

I was fortunate enough to hear lots of interesting tales and help look for some strange book choices:

- "My mom used to have a shirt like that, but she thought it got really old and ratty so she put it on a rummage sale. Then she bought another one sort of like it, it's blue like yours." Thanks kid, this is a brand new shirt, second time I've worn it.

-"I've seen a snake this big on the road by my house, it was eating a pig or something." While looking at a picture of a reticulated python.

-"I'm pretty sure I could read this." A kindergartner scanning through a chapter book with teeny, tiny print and well over 200 pages.

-"Do you know where my grandma lives?" No honey, I'm afraid I don't. But I'm sure you could tell me in a reaaallllllyyyyyy long story.

-"Mrs. Librarian doesn't do it that way." Lather, rinse, repeat... again, and again, and again.

"Do I look like Mrs. Librarian?" They say no you don't and I tell them, "Then I won't do things exactly like Mrs. Librarian," and they are fine with that, but with the kindergartners, I was a little afraid to say that, because I was scared they would say yes, and the librarian is about 64 years old.