Beginnings

Our lives are a series of endings - for each begins a new journey  or vice verse depending on your life outlook. Few may be as wonderful and melancholy as watching your child leave home to begin her own journey. Yet, what use are wings if we do not fly?

So it was that I froze in the baking sun, arms heavy with boxes and  heart burdened by memories as my sweet, blue eyed girl looked on at the other toddlers and children playing in the fountain. Part of me wanted to push her out - fly and enjoy; but intuition screamed to stop and watch. Given to her own devices she set the pace. Her small hands gripping a bucket, floppy sunhat shielding the glare, she studied the rowdy and meek alike. After gleaning what she could, she marked her destination in her mind and set off on her own - no hesitation. Soon she was immersed in the play she had chosen, her joy visible in the little dance she preformed around the refreshing spout.

Shaking off the vision, I turned to watch as my beautiful now-young-adult Teen loaded her brother down with yet another pile of college necessities to be hauled to her new, part-time, home. Wiping at the wetness winding down my cheek I pushed fears away and reminded myself that this toddler-young-adult-Teen will not merely follow blindly - she will confidently soar.

Sister Steps Up

This is the week that never ends. Beginning with a call Monday afternoon about an exploded radiator from Hubby, it has been nothing but a mad dash. 

Who would've thought living smack in the middle of both of our workplaces could lead to so much driving? Every morning, except today - thank goodness for his four-day-workweek schedule - our one working vehicle has put upwards of 150 miles on it per day! Ughh the hours I have spent driving in fog, rain, and through tornadoes touching down yes the weather decided simply driving endlessly wasn't enough. Plus, before and after school events have been especially heavy this week, only adding to the joy of my week. All this just to say when I finally arrived home after schmoozing with parents until 7:30 last night, I wasn't at the top of my game.

So, it can be forgiven when I inform my fellow readers that even though I know Youngest and her-brain-that-doesn't-quit, I allowed her to pick her bedtime story. Given my heightened level of exhaustion, it wasn't until she began to bury her head in the pillows that it dawned on me The Nutcracker has a scary bad guy that might threaten my chances of zoning out for an hour before bed Youngest's chances of falling asleep. Quickly picking-up the fear factor here, I found a fairy princess place to stop for the night. Hoping upon hope that this would leave her with visions of fairies and magic instead of seven-headed mice.

No such luck. She was up as I was shutting the door.

After repeated attempts to calm, offers of my bed, the dog, a trip to Disney anything that would allow me some down time, she was still unable to sleep. Apparently there are "scurrying noises in this house." Knowing she wouldn't sleep alone and that Teen was not doing homework on the computer in her room, I sent her there. 

The shock on Teen's face at being called to bat was priceless. She gave only meager resistance to this, and allowed Youngest to snuggle in. Within 15 minutes Teen came out to inform us that Youngest was asleep and we could move her now. Uhh, no. My brain was back on line and knew A move would only necessitate the need for Youngest to come into my bed in an hour when she woke with nightmares. I explained that Youngest was huddled in a corner of the bed, was a breeze to sleep with and would be fine until morning. 

Maybe it was Teen's head cold that had sapped her energy for a fight, or maybe she is just really that sweet. Whatever the reason, everyone here got a good night's rest.

No Mom Allowed

A few months before I turned 16, I moved to FL. Before the departure, my dad asked me where I would like to go for a special dinner, a 16th birthday tradition he celebrated with each of his daughters. I considered various locations and settled on The Pump Room (Chicago). Looking back I probably chose it largely because it sounded so snobby and I had seen it many times while bumming around Michigan Ave. 

So it was that an evening in January found the two of us having dinner. I, being my most grown-up self, ordered cream of asparagus soup. Imagine my surprise when the soups were brought and I had placed before me a bowl containing nothing but some bright green asparagus tips. Shock must have been evident and my dad asked what was wrong. I leaned toward him and in a conspiratorial whisper I said "Dad, there's no soup?" He looked into my bowl, and hiding a grin he asked me if that was not what I ordered. Just as I was about to answer he said, "Ah, I believe this is what you were waiting for!" As the waiter poured the cream soup into my bowl. The rest of the meal went smoothly and was followed by a carriage ride down Michigan Ave. An evening fit for a sweet sixteen. 

Tonight Teen will embark on her own "Dad and Me" sweet 16 dinner. She chose a fondue restaurant and her dad dutifully made the reservation. He has informed her that dress attire is expected and she seems excited. I will be sad to miss out on her 16th birthday dinner, but I am thrilled for the memories she and her dad are building. Hopefully there is cheese in their fondue pot!
Happy Birthday Teen!!

Dad's Stories

I could have been listening to a recording. The morals and analogies echoing in my ears were as familiar as a comfortable pair of slippers. The tone was calm and meaningful and at some points the inflection was so accurate I was tempted to sneak a peek into the backseat. But, it would do no good. 

It was not my father lecturing my teenage self. It was me! Lecturing Teen!

Her trespass, though not worthy of writing about, was enough to make me angry as all hell. And it was in this state of heightened emotional distress that I seemed able to channel my father's spirit directly through my words. Amazing really, how quickly we can become our parents. Teen sat stoically answering when one was required, enduring the uncomfortable silences when I was counting to 10 in my head so I wouldn't kill her I paused the conversation for reflection. No sign of listening was readable on her face or in her actions.

But, I know she was absorbing every word. Just as I had when my father gave them to me. So, to my storytelling father who always has a point, and all fathers everywhere I wish you a Happy Father's Day! Your work is not in vain, as children we hear your messages and they become part of who we are.

Now, it's FatherHood Friday. So, go ahead, click the link to head over to DadBlogs and take a break to read some wonderful blogs by some wonderful people!

This n That

In honor of Thursday this post with be reflecting the jumble of thoughts that hit as the work week nears its end but still refuses to die.

~ A boy had come calling to talk with Teen a few times. She politely blew him off both times. When teased questioned about her lack of interest, she responded to the effect that he looks like a good kid, but dad and I wouldn't like him. Last weekend I saw him outside the local grocery store, looking for cigarettes! Lesson: Don't judge a kid by his haircut and clothes!

~ We are getting a litter of puppies vaccinated and certified today. There were eight in this very unexpected litter. We had spent 3 weeks listening to daddy-dog cry and mommy-dog looking sad while we kept them completely apart. One morning they managed to sneak off together and we have been paying the price for 8 weeks. Lesson: Love finds a way. (Daddy-dog is now fixed and mommy-dog has an appt.)

~ I broke-down and bought a new bed recently. After scouting some ads hubby and I walked into a store, completely unaware of the procedure. We haggled, negotiated, almost walked out and ended-up with a floor model at a far more reasonable price. Lesson: Contrary to my previous belief, buying a bed is NOT like buying a shirt. It is far more like buying a car - yuck!

~ Speaking of cars, we had to buy one of those this week too! Yep - things are crazy here. After leaving Hubby's car for the junk yard at 200+K if it were a horse it would have fallen down dead we replaced his car. Today, I get to drive it - so he can take the puppies in the van. Yea, me!

As anyone can see, I need the weekend to come. If for no other reason than to clear out the cobwebs in my mind. Hope the rest of your week is peaceful!

Karma It Isn't

The family is gathered around the kitchen, engaged in various activities. Hubby and I are having a conversation while Boy chimes-in, sharing his input. Teen strides into this scene, exclaiming that we "need to see this." Hubby and I look-up, wondering what has her excited enough to: a) leave her room - quickly b) bring the computer & c) interrupt our conversation because she is usually so polite!

Teen proceeds to pull-up and begin playing a video. Hubby & Boy watch the video while Youngest and I work on dinner. There is some conversation about the video and the (much loved) band who recently released an album and apparently a video. In one simple act, she has everyone's attention.

Great. Now, if the world really runs on karma - why do I know so many variations of the next scene?

1. Knock gently, then enter Teen's room. Announce presence, just to be sure. 

2. Watch the book cover (computer screen, sketch pad etc) for signs that my presence has been noted. 

3. Upon hearing the grunted "huh?" respond with request, question, or interesting tidbit to share. 

4. Wait a moment....insist child put down the phone (headphones, IM window) then repeat step 3.

5. Receive large eye roll or WTH look from Teen as she tears herself away to hear the conversation originating in step 3. 

6. Share tidbit, haltingly, because now you aren't too pleased with your reception.

OR

Forget all of the above steps and everytime you want to tell said teen anything, you call her out of her room or away from the computer and insist she give her full attention to you before you start. (must say Hubby is a master at this) It drives her bonkers, but cracks me up. This does fall under legal torture techniques - right?

The Title That Fit

If you were to talk to people who knew me in college and late high school, you would hear that I was the grounded one mother-hen. When canoeing down river, it was me who would yell that there could be branches and to check the water depth. I was the voice whispering that taking treasures from a late-night chain eatery wasn't a competition, it was stealing. Sometimes I would feel down on myself, wondering if this trait made me boring.

Then, 15 years ago something happened. It started with a clueless 21 year-old waiting for a friend to stop by after work so we could all grab Chinese food. Sitting on the couch with Hubby, I was laughing my hiney-off and thought - hmmm did I actually laugh so hard I'm wet? I ran for the bathroom and suspected that this may be something more....

After making 3 phone calls to friends and family for confirmation, I gave-in and called the doctor. Yes, my water had broken - 3 weeks early. Wait a minute - this can't happen, the shower is this coming weekend! We have next to nothing!!!

Next to nothing or not, my Teen was soon to be born. With the support of a wonderful mother-in-law, my big sister, and of course my soul-mate, I eventually delivered a beautiful 7lb. baby girl.

Over the years Hubby and I have gone from clueless youngsters to semi-clueless parents. There are hidden delights and bold-faced dangers. And along the way I have learned that those traits of my youth may have made me mothering, but only through the gift of my children have I earned the title mother. Thank you Teen, for beginning the blessings. I love you!

In the Know

I will never be accused of hyper-parenting (click on the link for more info). Parenting in the extreme, scheduling and pushing for your children so hard that you are actually doing the work and activities for them - is absolutely not my style. Heck, I was never even ABLE to attend a PTO meeting - whose bright idea was it to schedule them at 4:00 on weekdays anyway?

As a result, I was often out of the loop with oldest. When she was in kindergarten I checked her daily folder one evening to find that there was a cookie exchange and sing-along. In. One. Hour. This was the first I had heard or seen, and I checked her back-pack daily. So we rushed through dinner and to the event, oldest still in her school clothes. Another kind-hearted parent took pity on me as I watched an assortment of children dressed in their Christmas finest and told me, "With kindergartners you never know what's going on. It will get better."

And in some ways it did get better. Teen was on safety patrol in elementary school, she won awards and gave performances- which I always attended. But, I was never the parent who knew how to get things done, or even what things I was supposed to be getting done for that matter. When the school sent a letter home saying they were moving her from advanced classes because there was no longer enough space, I didn't even know I should fight it - let alone how to fight it. Needless to say, I was not a parent "in the know" of things. Until now.

Through a series of events with Boy, (click here or here for more info) and by becoming a teacher in the district I have greatly increased my "know" power. So it was last May that I asked a counselor at my school to run Teen's high school schedule for me (she starts in August). In looking at her classes, I was dumbfounded. Two periods of English and two periods of Algebra a DAY? Only 2 electives and no language? How can this be? I colluded with co-workers and decided to wait until state test scores came back, then I would call.

I made the call this week. In speaking with a guidance counselor I was able to quickly cut to the chase; Teen wants to be in honors English and science possibly math. As the counselor was giving me the prepared "your child is not as smart as you think she is speech" I was able to quickly rattle-off the all-powerful test scores. Counselor stopped talking and started listening. She pulled records and quickly came to my way of thinking. She let me know it would take a bit, as she needed to make some major changes to Teen's schedule. She would call back, and she did. I am pleased to report Teen is now in honors, has her language as well as orchestra (she is leaving band for the cello), art, and PE. Yes, she went from 2 electives to 4. Her days will now be filled with challenge and art, she and both of her parents are happy.

Though, I do feel badly for all the parents and students who will not see their schedules until freshman orientation; I am reveling in the fact that for once - I was one of the parents in the know! And to think I only had to change my career for this to happen.