This year I accidentally broke Summer

I always look forward to Summer with its long stretches of blessed schedule voids punctuated with sporadic bursts of activity designed drive boredom away. Sleeping late and reading lots. Family bonding and lazy afternoons.  Perfection.

This year I accidentally broke Summer.


First there isn't proper voidness in my scheduling. Someone should have told me teenagers change everything. With parties, church camps, instrument lessons, golf camp, summer baseball, marching band practices, and never-ending phone ringing, the INSANITY never ends. In the minimal blank spaces we fit in visits to the pool, chores, reading time, and other "normal" summer activities. You want friends over? Better schedule it 4 months in advance.

And we're supposed to fit in a vacation, too?!?

As if that wasn't enough, the down time is decidedly not blessed. Sibling bickering is driving me insane. Two teenagers and two tweenagers (I swear the pre-pubescent mood swings are worse than the post-pubescent ones) keep the hormones in our house at DANGER- EXPLOSION IMMINENT!! levels. If you don't believe me you can walk by my house and hear it. You might only enter the neighborhood to hear it. I wouldn't be surprised if people are wondering about the noise all the out at the county border.

Given the state of Summer this year, I, of course, thought it would be the perfect time to start P90x. After all, taking an extra hour and half out of my schedule every day could only be made better by limbs too sore to move more than an inch in any direction. And why would I need to have any reserve of strength? Right? Might as well use it all up within 15 minutes of waking so I can have the rest of the day to deal with paragraphs 2 and 4.

So I'm exhausted, the kids are busy, our gas budget is atrocious, and I'm now hoping for some down time. In September. Of 2025.


Oh all right, I just might survive...

   

Darn that blogger

So, I meant to write a rough draft and accidentally hit publish. Switched immediately to draft, but it still showed up EVERYWHERE. Hoping this fixes it until I publish tonight. And yes (if you already read it) I realized it hasn't been 12 years since Elise was in kindergarten. (I hadn't even spell checked. It was just flow of thought onto the screen. How embarrassing!)

I can't believe it either- confession of an nonathletic mom

I'm going to lose my street cred. (As if using the term "street cred" weren't reason enough to lose it)

You see, I feel this compulsion to confess even if it destroys my reputation. Deep breath, here it goes:

mnjoy baseball seasothiyr.

What do you mean you couldn't understand me. I was mumbling?

I'm enjoying baseball season this year.

You can't hear me? Fine.

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I'm enjoying baseball season this year.

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I know, I know. I'm the mom who comes to kids' sports sign-ups kicking and screaming. Although I tend to replace "kicking" with "eye rolling" and "screaming" with "muttered complaints". I don't enjoy sports and baseball is the most boring. Last year felt like two months of after-school, twice-on-Saturday torture. This year I added another whole team to the mix (which should make it thrice-on-Saturday torture) and still for some reason ... it's kind of, sort of, well ... nice.

Maybe it's because practices are all closer to home. Maybe it's because the kids are all a year older and more independent. Maybe it's because this season I've yet to be hit in the head with a baseball. Or maybe I've been hit in the head one too many times.

For whatever inexplicable reason, all of a sudden, I enjoy watching the kids play. I enjoy sitting and chatting with the other parents. I enjoy watching the teams get better as the season progresses. I haven't opened a book during an actual game once this whole time. Even when my kids aren't actually on the field. Weird, right?

Sure the timing is still a bear and my schedule looks like a complex scientific proof. Dinnertime is more like eat-what-you-can-as-you-run-out-the-door time and Me-time is in temporary hibernation. And yet when I'm watching one of the 5 to 7 games scheduled each week, I find myself relaxing, smiling, and enjoying myself. Go figure.

I better stop analyzing before I talk myself out of it! See you at the ballpark!



 P.S. Don't tell my husband, I don't think I could handle the requisite gloating.

We Survive March with Exhaustion

I plan on showing everyone a picture of Kirsti's new haircut. To be clear, I cut it, not her. Plus, I took her to a salon later that week and had it fixed; it looks great now. Anyway, I will post a picture soon.

But first I thought I would explain my lack of posting last month. The best explanation would be a repost from my extended family's monthly blog. No obligation to read it as it is long, picture heavy, and we CRAMMED a lot into the month. My goal is to fit blogging into my schedule somehow because it really helps me keep a good perspective.

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Isn't March supposed to enter like a lion and leave like a lamb? 'Cause last month did enter like a lion, but it exited like a T-Rex on steroids. So take a deep breath, strap in and get ready for an UPDATE.

The month started with Peter leaving me. Don't worry, it was just for the weekend (give or take). He went down with his brothers and in-laws to BYU's basketball league playoffs. They all had fun, even if BYU lost on Saturday, but their flight home wasn't until Tuesday (Who, you may be asking, designed a tournament that ends on Monday? Someone who wants people to not attend next year.)

He is still losing crazy weight and gaining crazy muscle with P90X. Even with a Las Vegas vacation thrown in, he hasn't broken his diet or missed a workout. He and Elise are almost at their halfway point.

Elise turned 15 this month! She asked if she could throw a party if she paid for it and did all the work. I agreed. And then cleaned the whole house, took her to the store, bought pizzas. chaperoned, drove all over town looking for the right cake display, and fixed the cake when she found out it wasn't as easy to decorate as Mom makes it seem. And freaked out because -HELLO- SHE'S 15! Good thing she did all the work. She actually did all the planning, decorating, inviting, entertainment, and snacks and paid for all but the pizza, so I was impressed.

This month she also registered for her sophomore year. She went with a friend to the midnight showing of the Hunger Games. She's also doing great with P90X.

Ryan has kept me hopping this month. He had an archery competition half way through the month which meant the first two weeks he had practices before and after school every day. The competition was two hours away and ALL DAY LONG. But he had fun and I enjoyed watching him. He also had a band concert. Good thing he told us about it, bad thing it was the morning of the concert! He is playing the percussion with the large yellow arrow over his head. He registered for his freshman year of high school and has become obsessed with the Rubik Cube. This month he baked a pie for Pi Day and baked a cake for the last day of chess club.

Ethan and Kirsti finished up hockey after school twice a week. They also finished up Math Club and Chess Club. Now I just have Strings for Kirsti before school three times a week and Spring Training (an athletic exercise modge podge) after school once a week for Ethan, Kirsti, and Joseph.


Ryan, Ethan, Kirsti, and Joseph all ran in a Leprechaun Race. It was a mile and the older 3 all ran it faster than I could. Even Joseph was close.

Ethan had a science fair this month and, much to my surprise, we managed to get it done on time! Kirsti had a stake Activity Day activity that lasted from 2 till 8 on a Friday. Guess who was one of the volunteers? Yep, me. Guess what day it was? (Hint: the day before the all day archery competition.)

Joseph, Kirsti and Ethan all went to Jump Rope for Heart. They also dressed up for Character Day to celebrate Dr. Suess's Birthday. The book they're holding is where their characters came from.

Of course this month also included our annual Pi Day celebration. Ryan baked his Pi pie. I made T-shirts (Pi make the world go Round) and we ate pizza pie for dinner with chocolate pie for dessert. Matthew made the pie at special days with his cousins. I was nice and included the lesser holiday (St Patrick's Day) hats, too.

And finally, the T-Rex of our March schedule: baseball. This year we have 4 kids playing on 3 different teams. That is a total of 7-9 practices and 5-6 games per week. Ethan has already started games and has pitched for the first time and did great. He is hitting the ball (even swinging is an improvement from last year!) and is a lot faster than last year. Kirsti, Joseph, and Matthew have all started practices last week and will begin games after spring break next week. I am enjoying it a lot more this year. Partly because their practices are all a lot closer to home, partly because I know to bring my chair, blanket and a nice hot chocolate cup, and partly because this year I managed to avoid getting hit in the face with the ball at the first game.

I am still hitting the gym twice a week. I am slowly getting faster with my runs. With all the driving around, I'm reading much and cleaning little. I read 8 books last month, but only posted once. We finally got a new rug for the front room and living room. It changed the look of the rooms a lot and we love it!

The month ended with a neighborhood Easter Egg hunt and general conference. And if I missed pictures of the event, I'll just blame exhaustion.

I'll just call it the Ernie Hair Cut

I adored Sesame Street as a child. Unfortunately, when it came time to pass hand down this love to my own children, I found the show had become polluted with obnoxious, wall-coloring, red monsters, non-imaginary Snuffleupaguses, and overkill on political correctness. But this post is about that most beloved, entertaining, and educational show of memory .

More specifically about Bert and Ernie. How I loved that rapscallion puppet named Ernie! Although I confess I loved Bert a tiny bit more with his long suffering sighs.

Remember the time Ernie was alone with Burt's cookies? Temptation overwhelmed and he soon took a small nibble on one. But, oh no! The cookie was now uneven and a correcting nibble was needed. And then another and another until finally the cookie was gone.

I don't know why I thought of that skit this morning. Might have something to do with this:

P.S. My daughter, who managed learned optimism without any Sesame Street lessons, took it all in good measure. "It's hair, it will grow back. And now I don't have to pull it all the way over my shoulder to brush it." In fact, it barely touches her shoulders now.

For comparison, here is what it looked like on Friday. Note the length even after making six braids and braiding them into one. And yes, she is wearing fairy wings, pointy ears and a tiara to school. And her brother is wearing a suit in the background. Isn't that how your kids always dress for school?

P.P.S. Fine, just kidding. In honor of Dr Seuss's birthday the school allowed the kids to dress as characters from favorite books. I even have a front facing picture. Ethan was Artemis Fowl, Kirsti was the Fairy Queen from Fablehaven and Joseph was Pip, one of the dragons in Pillage.

And now I find myself craving cookies.

C is for Cookie. that's good enough for me...

A Walk on the Wild Side?

Matthew's voice piped up from the back seat of the car this afternoon. Mom, guess what? I have a new precious game on the iPad. 

At first I thought this was type of game, like saying I have a new -withFriends game or I have a new Tower Defense game. But something about the word precious tickled my memory. Has he been using that word a lot lately?

Curiosity got to me, so I dove into my mother gut to see what I could find. I went past The Dishwasher Needs Loaded When I Get Home and took a left at Did I Remember To Sign That School Sheet?

A quick trip over Is It Time For THAT Talk Again? and around Do My Kids Have Enough Friends?

 Ah, I'm getting closer now. Stay away from that dark, shadowy  Am I A Good Enough Mother?, nothing good over there.

Hmm, maybe between The Kids Are Watching Too Much TV and The Kids Need To Be Better At Chores. Ah, there it is:

The intersection of Kid Speak and Mother Intuition.

Matthew, do you mean you have a new game you like to play best?

Yes, Mom. Like I said, a new precious game.

Thanks to Lord of the Rings, my child has confused the meaning of favorite and precious.

(I'm pretty sure there should be a spot in there called  My Child's Favorite- Precious?- Movie Is Lord of the Rings, but I've yet to find it!)

 

Unrequited Friendship

I thought I had a pleasant circle of friends. We saw each other several times a month and I liked and respected them. They had young children like I did, and we had similar interests, struggles, dreams, and ideas. I knew they, like myself, were trying to be the best they could. Then one day, through an inadvertant mention in an unrelated group email, I found they had a monthly girls' night doing a hobby we all enjoyed. Without getting too bogged in details, there was no possibility I had been overlooked (I had even mentioned a few times that such a night would be fun, but everyone always seemed strangely disinterested); I'd been deliberately not invited. In fact, obvious effort must have been made to not mention this group in front of me. For whatever reason, my presence was undesirable.

It didn't help that not long after, I was given a Christmas letter from one of the women where she went on about several large parties she had thrown throughout the year where she and her husband had invited ALL their friends. I've never been sure why she felt a need to give me the letter without giving me a single invitation. But it compounded the still recent sting.

I was humiliated and heartbroken. I thought I had friends who liked me, but I was more a tolerated ... what? Acquaintance? Annoyance? Affliction? The worst part was I still knew these women were good women. I couldn't feel bitterness towards them, I had simply misunderstood our relationship. It had been my mistake. If my attendance made their night out unpleasant enough to go to the trouble to hide it from me, I couldn't begrudge them not asking me. After all, at the stage of life we were all in, these nights out would be rare and meant to be fun. I took it as a kindness (if a little misguided) that they went out of their way to keep me ignorant. In fact, a few years later I found myself on the opposite side of a similar situation and understood their position even better.

I learned a lot through this experience. I learned that liking me was not a prerequisite for goodness. Compatibility with me doesn't have a monopoly on kindness, hard work, or happiness. I also learned that,  despite what other people thought of me, I liked myself well enough. In fact, I see this as the genesis of feeling comfortable in my own skin and letting others learn to do the same.

Our family's next couple moves were to places where people were more, um, direct about their feelings and more embracing of eccentricities. I continued to grow from its the lessons, but rarely thought about that less-than-pleasant situation.

But since moving here, I've found myself reflecting again on that time. Recently I've realized I do carry some negative baggage I picked up all those years ago: I'm frightened of unrequited friendships. Obviously, I'm not great at reading social cues about friendship and I don't know if I can handle making friends only to find I really haven't. To learn to care for and admire women who simply don't reciprocate. I don't want to be tolerated, I want to be friended. Coupled with my natural shyness this has kept me isolated, probably a little prickly, and (I suspect) not responsive to more subtle attempts at friendship.

Now that I've identified a problem, maybe I can move forward. My comfort zone needs expanded a little bit, and I need to risk getting hurt. Another hard lesson learned. Getting wiser, not just older, is a difficult thing sometimes.

 

Uterus versus the Mail

We love in our hearts and think in our brains. Intuition begins in the gut and weather forecasts in our joints. We even believe with every fiber of our being. But do you know what part of the body we use to find things? Is it our eyes, our brain, or maybe our fingers?

Nope. According to Pennsylvania folklore, we use our uterus to find things. That is why men can't do it and why, when we lived in PA, it was not uncommon to hear something along these lines: "Ever since my hysterectomy, I can never find my car keys."

My uterus has been in charge of looking for things ever since.

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Today Peter couldn't find some mail. He remembered setting it down a couple weeks ago "somewhere special" so he wouldn't lose it. He just couldn't remember where this special spot was hiding. I would have helped him look, but I was busy doing other important things, like reading blogs and checking Facebook. I mean, it wasn't that big of a deal; it was only the soon-to-be-overdue renewal of his State Medical License.

So he looked and I ... sat at the computer. And he looked and I ... loaded the dishwasher. And he looked and I ... picked the kids up from school. And he looked and I ... sat at the computer again.

A couple hours later, panic was beginning to build and there was real threat of the house being torn apart. I finally decided I might be a little sad (and hungry) if my husband lost his ability to work. Besides, I'd finished reading blogs for the moment. So I got up, walked to our bedroom, and found it in a pile of papers on our dresser. A piece of mail I'd never seen in a pile I'd never noticed before. It took less than thirty seconds.

"Don't worry," I said as I brought them back downstairs, "Maybe someday you can grow a uterus, too."

"Thanks," he replied, "Can you find me an envelope?"

A Snow Day or Three

I am a creature of routine. Unexpected changes make me a grouchy, grouchy Mom. But there is something magical about snow days. Even though plans fly out the window, there still lingers my childhood excitement of SNOW DAYS and CANCELLED SCHOOL. Even though it goes against every part of my personality, I love, LOVE, LOVE snow days.

This year I was lucky; Peter had the whole week off, so we hibernated together. We braved the roads several times to keep a supply of Redbox on hand.

Can you tell how much I LOVE being cold. I would have covered my eyes, too, if they weren't required for walking without falling down.

We found a great hill for sledding. Despite what it looks like, Joseph had a blast.

Matthew learned that when we tell him to wear a scarf, he probably should. Never fear, I shared mine until he decided it was too hard to walk in. (Don't ask me, I don't know why a scarf made it hard to walk, either.)

After sledding and our second bout of driveway shoveling, we went out for lunch and hot chocolate. We kept thinking the roads would get better as we moved towards busier ones, but apparently our new home town doesn't do a great job with snow plowing. In fact, none of the roads looked like they'd been plowed at all! Even the freeways. I'm glad our new Suburban has 4-wheel drive. Still, we kept driving to our destination. After all, we needed to change things up so we could 

...do exactly what we were doing at home.

Then there is the daylong pause where we did nothing and have no pictures to prove it. Well Ryan went to an overnight scout camp, Peter took the kids sledding again, and I went to a GNO, but other than that, NOTHING.

When the roads finally started to melt, we let the kids get out some pent up energy at the local skating rink.

And nothing finishes off snow days like Blizzards from DQ.

The temperature has risen, the snowy roads have melted, and we are all back on routine- or we will be, starting tomorrow. The kids had today off for semester break, even though school was cancelled during finals and the semester is now extended two days. Now I need to dig out of some major housework; hibernation is a messy thing when you have six kids!

What is this gratitude of which you speak?

Sitting at the kitchen counter, minding my own business and resting after another exhausting shopping trip, my reverie was broken when my son decided he must speak his mind. "Mom, thanks so much for buying those pudding cups you know I like. That was really nice of you."

Say WHAT?!?

Absolute shock: a face usually reserved for stepping on an entire tube worth of toothpaste on the bathroom floor or finding my best scissors used on fruit leather or, better yet, the real leather chair.
It crosses my face often enough that its appearance evoked no special attention. I was surprised, however, he didn't notice when I almost fell off the stool.

"You're ... welcome?" I tentatively reply after regaining my composure- and balance; more surprised his follow up was a hug and not a request for extra computer time.

It gets weirder.

Over the next several days I was thanked for waking someone up in the morning, driving a kid to school, making a favorite dinner, fixing a pair of pants. The thoughtful thanks just kept rolling out off their tongues!

So much for motherhood being a thankless job. Somehow my children actually noticed the things I do on a regular basis. And they appreciated it. Enough to tell me. I checked their biological clocks and they were at least a decade or two ahead of schedule. I couldn't figure out what kind of alternative universe I'd entered, but I can't say I didn't enjoy it.

While it lasted, anyway.

A couple weeks later I was once again at the counter resting my shopping-sore feet. "You bought pudding cups? But I wanted granola bars!" Ah, to that I know how to respond. (Cue up the You-Want-To-Go-There-? face and watch the kid scamper upstairs, bemoaning the cruelty of his insensitive mother). Guess I accidentally hit the reset button on those biological clocks. Oops.

This picture has nothing whatsoever to do with the post. I just like it.