A Simpler Time

I listen to the radio a lot.  It is usually on in the house as I go about my day.  It is always on in the car.  It always amazes me how a song can bring back such vivid memories.  Smells can do that also - a certain perfume that I wore in college will always remind me of that time.  The smell of lily of the valley and lilacs always reminds me of playing in the front yard of the house where I grew up.  The front of the house faced north, and in the northwest corner of the house there was a square flower garden where we had rose bushes, irises, a bleeding heart bush (I just bought one of them and plan to plant it on the north side of my house), snow on the mountain, and lily of the valley.  We had three lilac trees in our yard right next to the long gravel driveway.  A light purple one by the road that went past our house, and another light purple one and a white one further up the driveway.  The white lilac tree was tallest, and it had a branch on it that I used to swing from when I was very little.  I actually have a picture of me swinging from that branch.  How I cherish that picture.  

The other day, as I was driving around town, I heard an old country song "Happiest Girl in the Whole USA" by Donna Fargo.  Immediately, I was transported back to a cold winter morning when I was little.  Mom would bundle me up in a blanket and sit me at the kitchen table where she would serve me chocolate Malt o Meal and milk in my favorite white mug with red roosters on it.  I have the mug packed away somewhere, and it just dawned on me that maybe the mug is the reason I recently decorated my kitchen in roosters, and I love it.  

I would sit at the table early in the morning, and a small white radio would be playing the local AM radio station music.  There was nothing spectacular that ever happened that stands out in my memory, but it is that wonderful, drafty old house, and my Mom, and the feeling of love and safety (for lack of a better word) that I remember.  Funny how after all the things my parents did - road trips, county fairs, presents at Christmas - it is the smallest, most ordinary things that I treasure about childhood.  

And so, this video is dedicated to my parents.  They were (as my father would say) "solid as Sears", and they always made sure that I had everything I needed.  And they have provided me with a lifetime of good memories that I hold close to my heart and think of often.  

Doors

"When God closes one door, He opens another."  Proverb

Sometimes, I think I stare at the closed door for so long that I miss seeing the open door.  

This is my least favorite time of year.  Endings.  Goodbyes.  Moving on from one phase of life to another.  I have always believed that my kids don't transition well, but really it's me who resists change.  I don't always take time to stand back and enjoy the process of things.  I'm in such a hurry to see the end, the final product, the culmination of so much time and effort.  And when the end is in sight, I can't believe that the end is near.  

Last Sunday was my last day teaching Sunday School.  All my kids were there on the final day, so I had my hands full.  The wonderful Isabelle wore a pretty black dress and had her hair crimped in honor of the last day of class.  Her dress was held together in the back with safety pins.  She told me it was really her older sister's dress.  

The little fashionista girl was there in a very fashionable outfit.  The smiley boy was there.  Joe was there.  And the quiet boy whose grandpa had died last fall was there too.  We had our last small-group class, and then we joined all the kids ages 6 and under for large group lessons.  It was time to sing and dance to some songs, and Isabelle turned around and told me, "It's time for us to dance and for you to drink your coffee."  Guilty.  Those kids pick up on everything.  

At the end of class, the kids got a dilly bar, and I asked each one of them a question about themselves to pass the final minutes.  Then I asked them if any of them had a question for me.  Isabelle's hand shot up in the air and she asked, "If you got a yellow dog, would you name it Goldie?"  I told her that I would name that dog Nala like the lioness from the Lion King.  Then the fashionista girl asked me, "What color are your eyes - really?"  I have very green eyes, and I wear blue gas permeable contacts, so my eyes look like a weird murky green color.  

Then it was time to go.  I offered each child the choice of a handshake, a hug or a high five.  The girls gave big running hugs.  Two from the fashionista, and then her father came to get her.  One hug from the smiley boy.  Joe met up with his sister and went to sit on the couches in the lounge area of the church.  The quiet boy had put his hands in his pockets and took off without my noticing.  No goodbye from him.  And then it was me and Isabelle who stood with her blonde crimped hair and ill-fitting dress looking up at me smiling.  "I like you" she said, "I didn't think I would."  I asked her if she still thought that I didn't look like a nice person.  She said, "Sometimes.  You need to smile more."  And then she hugged my leg and ran off to meet her Mom.  She didn't look back.  I stood for a minute with a picky feeling behind my eyes which always signals oncoming tears.  I blinked them back and looked back at the empty Sunday School room.  And I smiled and shut the door.  

"It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure, to embrace the new.  But there is no real security in what is no longer meaningful.  There is more security in the adventurous and exciting, for in movement there is life, and in change there is power."  Alan Cohen  

My daughter tends to see everything negatively.  Every day after school, I ask the kids how their day was.  Kaitlyn always gives me the same "Napoleon Dynamite" answer, "It was the worst day of my life!"  Last Tuesday, I had lunch at school with her.  She sits with a wonderful group of girls.  We talked all through lunch, though Kate remained quiet.  One little girl remarked how much Kate and I look alike.  We smiled at that.  Then we went out for recess, and Kaitlyn had to show me all the stuff she can do on the monkey bars.  Various little third graders would come up to me and strike up a conversation.  I had a wonderful time.  And then it was time to go and Kate was sad.  She has had a rough year in third grade.  She never made friends with any of the girls in her class, just girls in the other third grade classes.  Her teacher was very nice, and Kate liked her very much.  I believe Kate learned a lot this year, and she's getting excellent marks, but there was something about this year that just never "clicked" for her.  There is a rotten girl in her class that picked on her for most of the year.  I hope and pray that kid either goes to a different school or she isn't in Kate's class next year.  For the first time ever, I think I'll be happy to see her graduate to the next grade.  This is a door that I'm happy to close.  

"When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves."  Victor Frankl

And then there is my "Almost First Grader".  I am sad beyond belief that my last kindergartener is moving on to first grade.  He brought home a note from his teacher yesterday that said, "Joe had a terrific day today - not one reminder about a thing!"  He was so proud to show it to me.  I put it up on the refrigerator for everyone to see.  I am so proud of him and his good report.  

A couple of weeks ago, I chaperoned the kindergarteners on a bumper bowling field trip.  We walked to a local bowling alley and bowled six frames.  What a fun time.  I have so many good memories of his kindergarten year.  I was able to volunteer a lot in that classroom, and I enjoyed every minute of it.  I am so sad to see this special year end for him.  But he is ready to move on, and he's really ready for summer vacation.  Every year on the last day of school, I take the kids pictures and give them a kiss for the last time as a Kindergartener, third grader, etc.  And then I compare that picture to the picture of them on the first day of school, and then I cry for about an hour.  I will cry the last time we walk out of the kindergarten room and that door shuts behind us.  This year really went by quickly.  

"If you're in a bad situation, don't worry it'll change.  If you're in a good situation, don't worry it'll change."  John A. Simone, Sr.  

This was a special year for Kaitlyn in dance class.  You might remember that I blogged about it last fall.  She has worked so hard.  And she has had the most fantastic dance teacher.  A couple of weeks ago, I asked the teacher if she would be teaching the 9-10 year olds next year, and she told me that she gave her notice and won't be teaching next year.  She wants to spend some time with her husband, and she teaches for the Park and Rec Department in River Falls.  I practically started crying right then and there.  This lady is such a wonderful teacher and free spirit.  She literally dances through life, and she is the best teacher that Kate could have ever had.  Kate learned so much from her and had a lot of fun while she was learning it.  

The last day of class was Thursday.  We got the teacher, Miss Jennifer, a pink rose with baby's breath and a thank you card from Kaitlyn.  I wrote her a letter thanking her for all her hard work.  Sometimes Kaitlyn has two left feet, but she has the heart of a dancer, and Miss Jennifer helped her shine.  She instilled so much self-confidence in Kaitlyn, and when Kate looks back on her years of dance lessons, she will always remember Miss Jennifer.  

At the last dance class, Miss Jennifer drew face paint on the girls.  One symbol was for a warrior, and the other symbol was for the first woman president.  Each girl got to show off a move that she learned that year, and then was presented with a certificate.  Miss Jennifer thanked all of us parents for the gift of letting her get to know our daughters.  And yes, I blinked back tears.  I gathered Kate and her dance shoes and her certificate, and we got ready to leave.  Kate was bouncing off the walls from such a fun last class.  I felt a pang of sadness as we walked out the door for the last time this year.  Her dance school isn't a very friendly place.  It is very competitive.  It wasn't until Kate got in Ms. Jennifer's class that she really started having fun.  Kate is determined to earn a "five-year pin" from this school, and she has two more years of lessons before she can do that.  I hope she has fun these next two years.  And Miss Jennifer told Kate that she might come back for the 2010-11 classes.  I'll keep my fingers crossed.  This door might not be fully closed after all.  

"It's always something."  Roseanne Roseannadanna

And now we're starting up t-ball for Joe and junior fast-pitch softball for Kate.  Joe is quite serious about baseball this year, and he's loving it so far.  Kate is holding her own on a team of very talented softball players.  

The dance recital is coming up complete with dress rehearsal, costumes, and lots of other mayhem.  These next two weeks are filled with field trips and school picnics.  And soon, the kids will be enjoying summer school, summer swim lessons, more t-ball and softball, an art class for Kate at the local performing arts center, and day camp for both kids.  I'm keeping them busy.  I know the end of summer will come all too quickly, but I'm usually ready for them to get back to school in the fall, and that transition won't be so hard.  

And soon I'll file away the last school papers and art projects from this school year.  I'll retire the worn-out backpacks they used all year.  We'll turn our attention to all the fun that summer has in store for us - the newly opened door.  

And what makes me really sad is that soon I'll get over missing the kindergarten room, and the Sunday School class, and Ms. Jennifer's dance class.  They will become fading memories in a whole sea of fading memories.  But when we look back, we'll smile and hopefully will be able to open the door of our memories enough to catch a glimmer of the happy feelings we once had.  

"Nature's first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold.  Her early leaf's a flower; But only so an hour.  Then leaf subsides to leaf.  So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day.  Nothing gold can stay."   "Nothing Gold Can Stay" by Robert Frost

A Letter to My Sweet Girl

Dear Baby Girl:

You turned nine almost two weeks ago.  I was just looking back at the photos, and I swear that I don't know when you got so tall or skinny or leggy or even prettier than you have always been.  

You are so grown up, but still such a little girl, playing with Barbies one minute and doing hip hop moves the next.  I live in fear for the first time you go out on a date.  (Your father always clenches his jaw and narrows his eyes whenever the subject of boys comes up.  He may not survive your teen years.)  

And lately you and I argue.  A lot.  We argue over whether or not you should attend dance camp, about homework, softball, chores, clothes, bedtime, and much, much more.  

My sweet girl, I know that I'll never be fully ready for the roller coaster ride that has just begun.  I'm doing my best to steer you through all the emotion that is your nine-year-old life.  I fully realize that it is the tears and drama that make your smiling sweet moments shine all the more.  

We are so very different from each other.  I look forward to seeing the woman that you become someday.  I just hope that someday doesn't come too soon.  

I love you little girl.  

Mom  

Hopelessly Out of Touch

To say that this weekend was not a good one would be a massive understatement.  I'm not quite sure where to begin.  Last Monday I felt a sore throat coming on.  It was worse on Tuesday.  On Wednesday and Thursday I was still feeling awful.  Friday was very bad, and my little guy didn't have school on Friday since next year's kindergarteners were visiting his school at Kindergarten Roundup.  My hub was expecting a UPS delivery that would require a signature, so we needed to stay home all day.  It was a nice day outside, so I decided that the best use of my time would be to rake the lawn and tend to the landscaping - weeding and cutting back last year's plants.  

The budding trees and the wind and the pollen made by sore throat/head cold much worse.  My son kept leaving basketballs and scooters outside near the sidewalk which is against the house rules.  I yelled at him over and over.  The daughter came home and started playing with a swimming noodle.  She accidentally whacked me hard in the eye with it, and I spanked her rear for that.  I could've lost a contact lens like I did the time that my son whacked me in the eye with a toy sword.  

The UPS delivery finally came around 4 pm, and I didn't need to sign for it though he may not have left it at all if no one had been home.  The electronic thing that was delivered did not come with an instruction manual, and this transformed my husband into a giant mass of crabbiness.  My son fell in the back yard and hurt himself, and the neighbor boy came and got me.  As I was running to get to my son, I twisted my left ankle and did something to the muscle in my left calf.  It now burns every time I stand on it.  My husband made the mistake of asking how my day was, and I dissolved into tears.  

By Saturday morning, I was having a hard time breathing, so I used some of my son's Albuterol nebs from his pulmonary doctor.  I was limping and tired from coughing instead of sleeping.  My husband was on a mission to rearrange the living room because our nine-year-old TV has bitten the dust, and we are getting a new flat screen.  This will require getting rid of our old entertainment center that we've had since 1989.  We affectionately call the massive piece of wood furniture "the behemoth".  (We have a strange custom of naming almost everything we own; my van is named "Sara"; my husband's car is named "Frankie"; our house is named "Olivia".  It goes on and on.)  

So, we shoveled furniture around as my husband sunk further into his crabbiness.  I couldn't lift the furniture with my leg the way it is.  We kept finding Legos everywhere . . . even inside our stereo speakers.  I had to deliver and pick up the son from a birthday party.  The daughter fell outside on the sidewalk and our neighbor brought her in with blood all over her knee.  The house looked like a tornado hit it.  I had to keep using Albuterol.  Well, you get the picture of how the day went on Saturday.  

Today it rained.  I promised the kids a trip to Dairy Queen if they would clean out the floor in their bedroom closet.  My son found all kinds of things to drag out and play with.  My daughter took all of her brother's folded jeans and pants off the shelves and replaced them with her clothes relegating her brother's clothing to the bottom shelf or the floor.  I almost pulled my hair out, and it ended up being a much bigger mess than it was to begin with.  I took them to Dairy Queen anyway and then we went to Target.  

On the way to Target my daughter mentioned that she wanted to buy a new dress for a "Dad/Daughter Dance" that is coming up next month.  I mentioned that she would wear her beautiful springy pink and white polka dotted swiss dress, but that we needed to buy her new shoes.  She completely freaked out, screaming (and I quote):  "Mom!  That dress says nothing about who I am."  In my confusion, I asked her exactly who she was.  "Mom!  Seriously . . . Hannah Montana, sequins, rock music!"  Each syllable was getting more and more shrill and hurting my congested head.  

On the complete opposite side of the coin is my son.  He was changing into pajamas tonight, and he asked me if I would like to see how he keeps his ears warm.  He put his dirty socks over his ears and looked at me and smiled.  Yes, what we wear does say a lot about who we are, but HOW we wear things sometimes tells even more about us.  

And as if I don't already feel completely out of touch with my kids, my son brought home a goody bag from his friend's birthday party.  These are typically filled with trinkets and candy.  This particular bag had a t-shirt in it, giant-sized candy bars, a light-up toy, wood whistle, marbles AND a hand-held device with seven video games on it in addition to a helium balloon and a giant tubular helium balloon with dinosaurs on it.  What the hell???  The goody bags from my son's last party had a SpongeBob water game, a Darth Vader bracelet, candy and a card game.  !  I know that my son has received gifts at past parties that I know cost in the area of $39.  Have these parties gotten a little out of hand?  Seriously though, I have to email the birthday kid's Mom.  Those goody bags rock.  I guess the goody bags that we create say a lot about who we are too.  

I'm feeling a bit better this evening.  The daughter was all tearful over her scraped-up knee.  The son took his dirty socks off of his ears.  The husband's unhappiness is dissipating.  My leg feels better, and I'm hoping to get some sleep tonight if I can control this cough.  Just as we are all "leveling out" from this roller coaster whirlwind weekend, it is time to start the school/ work week.  

I've never been happier to see the end of a weekend in all my life.  

Did You Talk To Me Before My Morning Coffee?!?!

I have two beautiful children who are actually minions of the devil in disguise.  This morning, they dragged around the house, taking forever to get dressed and eat breakfast.  I warned them at 8:05 am that they needed to get their shoes on and get ready because the bus comes at 8:10 am.  They dragged around, and then darling daughter discovered that her red sweatshirt was missing.  She looked in the van, and it wasn't there.  She looked in her bedroom, and it wasn't there.  She refused to wear a different coat and wouldn't move despite my threats to make her walk all the way to school.  I actually screamed like a banshee.  It was not my finest hour.  

My son waited until the last minute to go to the bathroom, and he looked for (and found) his sister's coat instead of getting his shoes on in time to get on the bus.  So, I had to drive him in to school.  I couldn't be mad at him.  He was just trying to help his sister.  

I am now officially giving these two the "Mother's Curse".  I hope you both have children JUST LIKE YOU.  I hope they frustrate you every morning until you are ready to pull your hair out.  And when this comes to pass, I will laugh.  

There was a silver lining to this day though.  I ran into the school art teacher this afternoon, and she told me that Joe makes her smile all the time.  "That kid really 'brings the party.'" were her exact words.  Yes, indeed, he has a party going on in his head all the time.  Finally, an appreciative assessment of my son.  When he got home from school today, he got off the bus, walked up to me and said, "Hey Mom, is this the weirdest dance ever?" and then he performed an interpretive modern dance with lots of arm movement.  I am a deep aficionado of all things weird, and he knows this.  There is something to be said for people who like to make us laugh.  They give us the silver linings that we seek out.  They make life a little bit easier with their efforts.  

In the meantime, here's a video for my two Tweedle Beetles.  If you weren't so cute, there would be a bounty on your little heads.  I'm biding my time until you two have kids of your own, and then I'm going to have some fun.  

City Limits

I come from a small town in central Wisconsin. All my young life, I couldn't wait to graduate from high school and shake the dust of that small town off of my feet and move on to bigger and better things that I was sure I would find out in the world beyond the city limits of Antigo, Wisconsin, population 9,005. I found everything in that town to be oppressive, provinical and parochial. Everyone knew everyone else, and at times I literally felt like I was smothering in that atmosphere.

But now that I've been gone from that small town for 25+ years, I can look back on my childhood years with a certain nostalgia. It was a place where you could ride your bike all over town, and your parents had no reason to worry about you. I had my close friends, and our parents all knew each other.

One of my very best friends called today to let me know that the father of a close mutual friend passed away early this morning. He was a man that everyone in town knew. He owned a restaurant that was undeniably the "social pillar" of Antigo. He was a hard-working man, a veteran of World War II, a Purple Heart recipient, and a father of seven children. He and his wife were two of the nicest people I have ever known.

So, tonight as I tuck my kids into bed and go about my evening routine, my thoughts are with my friend and her family who have lost their father, and my old home town which has lost a wonderful member of the community. I say a silent prayer that they will have the strength to get through this difficult time.

And I want to say farewell to my friend's father. Safe journey Mr. Ourada. I remember your kind words at my father's visitation, and I thank you for that. And thanks for all the good food over the years.

Hell Hath No Fury . . .

like me on a bad day.

This has been a bad week for me.

I am seriously contemplating doing what Angela Bassett did in "Waiting to Exhale" and put some of my husband's crap out on the driveway and set it on fire.

You could say that I have a bad attitude today. I may be able to pull myself out of it, or you will read about my hijinks on CNN.com. I haven't thought it through yet.