Bedtime astrophysics.

Mom, why does the earth orbit the sun? Why does it tilt on its axis? If it's winter here, is it summer somewhere else? Are there other planets like ours? What are we made of? Where did we come from? How come some animals have babies and other ones lay eggs? When did that happen? How did the air get here on the earth and why doesn't it float away? How can the earth orbit the sun because of gravity when there is no gravity in space? Are you getting tired of my questions? No? Ok, goodnight.

Perfect day

Today we slept in late (because of the fall back). G and I went to the grocery in our pjs and bought ingredients for pumpkin pie and the Sunday paper. We came home and cooked, cleaned, built a fire and the kids played together. Little L got the Spider-Man car stuck in her hair TWICE. She and My Guy had such fun putting a tiny stuffed pig on it and running it around the house.

My Guy and Little L spread their Halloween candy out all over the Xmas tree room floor, and ate it all, leaving the room littered with candy wrappers. We watched Big and talked about our upcoming trip to NYC. The girls stoked and billowed the fire and we used up all of the logs. We watched Frozen and drank hot cocoa with whipped cream and cinnamon. Little L used my iPhone to play music and dance

around the living room by firelight.  We all stayed in our pajamas all day long.  It was a Perfect day.

We got this, sister!

At the bus stop this morning, I actually got out of my car and walked my kids to the curb. Normally, they just let themselves out because often I am not wearing any pants. (Hey! Mornings are tough!) Anyhow, today I wore pants - old paint-splattered pants and a ripped up tank top and a trucker hat to boot. And shoes! Well, flip flops.  It was a good morning.

But I digress. I got myself to the curb with my kids and actually talked to the one other mom that brings her kids to our stop. Now I have "known" this mom for years - same neighborhood, wave at the pool, etc - but rarely have we conversed.  She is beautiful. Fit. Always put together. Works full time. Always wears pants. (Or at least a skirt.)

We talked about the kids' new teachers, our school that we both love, and curriculum night which was held yesterday. I, of course, was yawning and tired, because I did not get home until 9 and then had do do the work of the house and bedtime alone, as Mister is currently in Egypt.  She, of course, was not yawning, because she is seemingly always alert, even though I know she also had to do her nighttime routine alone. She is a single mom, you see.

I mentioned I am a room parent for both my kids' classes this year. She said, "Oh I can never do that stuff", flippantly with a hint of defensiveness and guilt ringing through her words. I cut her off and was like, I know sister! You can't! Someone's got to bring home the bacon!  Working full time is a full time job.

The thing is, I get it, really I do. There are years I am so uninvolved that I hardly know the teacher's names.  There are other years that I am super involved, because I can be. And on those off years, I know that the room parents and teachers and faculty are taking good care of my babies. They have got my back. 

And during the involved years, it is my turn to step up and be part if the village.  Without judgement. Without expectation. 

And definitely not because I am some over involved mom that needs to hover over her kids and know every little detail of their lives.  Simply because I can. This time, I can.

So to this perfect mom, and all the other moms (and dads) in my kids' classes I say,

We've got this, sister! Together, we've got this.

It's gonna be a good year.

Sitting with it.

Sometimes I get caught up in this thing where I have a very gossipy story that I must talk about incessantly to my closest friends and family, so much so that I hear "you just can't let it go, can you?" from them and then I realize that something needs to be done. Not letting it go, mind you, I don't really think we can let things go anyway - we can only move on -  but what I need to do is to sit with it.  Let it be. Turn my attention elsewhere until the silt of my true feelings can settle down to the bottom of my brain and I can finally see it clearly for what it is.  Concern. Pain for my friend. Anxiety about their future. Love.

Then the real work begins.

Time for a change

I can feel it in my bones.  Things are about to change.   We are on the precipice of something.  A fresh start? A new place? I don't know exactly know how... but I think it will be good. 

Generosity

Little Guy turned eight this past winter. All he asked for was Pokemon cards and money to buy Pokemon cards. He was a little obsessed, especially because he loses them almost as quickly as he acquires them. One of his buddies smartly gave him a gift card to Target in lieu of cash which is easily lost or thieved by his sisters.  

A few months later he was itching go to Target, just really talking about it incessantly.  After the third day if nonstop Target talk, I took him by for a quick spree before his gym class.  He spent almost the entire gift card on a big box of Pokemon. He was so stoked.

The next day, after school he asked to go to Target to use the rest of his gift card on one single pack of Pokemon.  "Little Guy," I said, "I just took you there. Where are the Pokemon that you bought yesterday?" "I don't have them anymore. I have them all to David." He said.  "WHAT?!! Why?" I asked, annoyed that after all that nagging and the special trip, he gave them all away.

"Because he didn't have any. And I have enough."

And enough is plenty when your friends have none.

I have learned much from that Little Guy. Now, when someone insists on paying me when I watch their kids after school, or teach them swimming, or do anything I would have done for them anyway, sans compensation, that money gets pinned to the bulletin board. Mitzvah money, we call it, and it stays there until someone we love is in need. Even G puts money on the board, when she gets overcompensated for babysitting or cake baking. 

And eventually, it gets used,  paid forward, because although we don't always have a lot, we do have enough.

Last Day...

Motherhood is a series of beautiful little heartbreaks.

Last Day of 5th grade

I have this friend ...

I have this friend. She chooses her battles. She empathizes with her kids. She doesn't sweat the small stuff. She is FULL of love and joy, even when those around her are not. She worries about losing her tweenager to the sea of self doubt and hormones he is swimming in. She fights for him as much as he will let her.  She is one of the funniest people I  have ever encountered. She does SO much for her family, most of it goes unrecognized, but she rarely complains.  She understands. She is always there for me when I really need her. And we have only met ... Once.  She is one of the the very best moms I know. You know who you are.  Just keep swimming. 

Honeyknuckle

It was a perfectly golden morning, just the kind of day you wish could last forever.

"Come on, love, we don't want to be late on your very last day of Pre-K!"

"But Mom, I need to go get some honeyknuckle first!"

"I will take some for my friends." 

I hope she keeps these friends, forever and a day. They are good ones.

Seriously, people?!

I am SO tired of reading people's posts about how much they hate the end of the school year. Too many parties for their kids, end of the year programs, crazy hair days and teacher appreciation.  How DARE they be asked to send in 500 cupcakes for their kid's 5th grade graduation, I mean REALLY! 

Please, bitches, this is mostly your own doing. Most of you have been the alpha moms, taking over every room parent position, fall festival and spring fling you could; "helping" build your kid's science fair project and making sure your exceptionally gifted child is having all of their very special needs met by their TAG teachers. (Whom you apparently find undeserving of appreciation)

Here's an idea - back off. Relax. Let your kids enjoy their last few weeks of school and let their teachers know that they actually matter, instead of hounding them for the A's that you "deserve".  Say "No, I will not send in the three tier cake you asked me for, even though I said I would at the beginning of the year, but here is a box of Oreos for the class to share instead." Or, have your kid bake the damn thing.

Quit bitching about all the papers and events that your make your kids giddy with excitement. Have them do their OWN projects for once and have a margarita and enjoy it while you watch them learn how to solve their own problems.

And STOP COMPLAINING about how long summer is going to be, before it has even started.  Why did you have kids anyway?  

Seriously, people, you have 18 years when they are yours to enjoy, and only about 12 of those where they still listen to you... Appreciate that. Value them. Enjoy the life that you have NOW... while you still have it.

Huffine Vocab Lessons

Focuntrate (v) (fo•kun•trayt) - the act of thinking really hard about something; alternately- focuntrase

Rememberize (v) (re•mem•bur•ize) - intense memorization, the act of helping someone recall something that is just right there on the tip of your tongue...

Constructions (n) (cun•struk•shuns) - the pieces of paper that come with happy meal toys which tell the reader how to assemble and use such toys; they also appear on the back of temporary tattoos and in board games.

Loveher (adj) (luv•er) - frequently used as a synonym for appreciation when honoring teachers on special days, i.e. Teacher Loveher Day.

MarBall (n) (mar•ball) - small, hard orb that you don't really know how to play so instead you disperse randomly throughout the house.

Onamint (n) (ahn•uh•mint) - something you put on a tree for the holidays

Bored-games (n) (boaarrrd•gaaaames) - games children refuse to play when they are bored because they are too boring.

Icing (n) (i•sing) - a cold pack for a boo boo

Goodbye Pre-K, It's been great...

You taught us to count to eight.
Thank you Mom and thank you Dad
For putting up with the good and bad,
Don't you cry, 'cuz aren't you glad
You're baby's growing up.

:(

Flying

Remember when all you needed to fly was someone bigger than you with strong legs and flat feet?

I do.

For me it was my sisters. For my niece and G, and Little guy it was me. For  Little L, it is G. I remember that my sisters used to fly me all the way up until my head touched the floor and then back down again. It was so much fun... an exercise in trust.

Orbiting

Ever since she could walk, when Little L gets tired, and we are out in public, she orbits me like a little moon around her Mother Earth. She usually has her left thumb in her mouth and her right hand up my shirt, skin to skin, to comfort herself as she walks around and around and around.... at the checkout line, at the bank line, at the bus stop. It has gone on for so long now, I scarcely notice my little moon, until some stranger starts eyeing her from afar and smiles.  My little luna girl, I am still the center of her universe.

 

Same Same

Little guy and Little L are two peas in a pod. They play together like two clumsy puppies tumbling about in the spring grass. They have the same laugh, the same sense of humor and the same double cowlicks.  Their foreheads crinkle the same way when they get mad, and they both prefer to sleep in my bed.  If that is not an option, they cuddle up with each other instead, reading each other stories and giggling over silly knock knock jokes.  They are the best of friends, though neither will admit it.  I hope they will always be able to hold tight to this special bond they have... two ships sailing along together in this topsy turvy sea of life.

I am.

So tired. 

We went to college. We graduated with engineering degrees. We got jobs. Paid off debt. Saved up. Bought a house. Had kids. Bought a bigger house. Lost jobs. Got new ones. Did things on the side. Got sick... one at a time. Got better... ish. Got another new job. Moved across the world to get cash to pay mortgage and new debt.  Pursued dreams. Got screwed over. Still employed, income zero.  Still in limbo.  Keep the game face on.  Keep the kids involved. They shouldn't have suffer. They didn't choose this. We didn't know. Was not in the plan. Appreciate the little things. Those little things. So tired of feeling unstable.  So tired of feeling like the only ones. 

Just. So. Tired. 

Sprouts

Every year I think I am going to grow my own food. I imagine myself tending my garden and picking fresh veg to use for rustic dinners that I just throw together with friends on warm summer evenings, soul warmed with good company and good wine, while the lightening bugs dance and the children play.  Ahh, nice eh?

Last year the closest thing I had to it was five volunteer pumpkin plants which grew like they were from the little shop of horrors circa the jurassic period and killed everything in their wake, except one deranged cucumber plant and a confused cherry tomato bush that couldn't quite decide of it was alive or dead.

I had one night of friends over around a bonfire, until I ran out of wood and had to scramble to tear up some sticks, getting splinters in my hands which needed professional removal the next day. Then it started raining and I got violently ill from a beerita... I swear it was the gluten and not the bottle of wine I drank... Yeah, pretty sure it was the gluten. 

The cucumbers were good though.

This year, Little L and I decided to get a head start on our garden and sprout some seeds instead of planting them randomly and then going out and buying plants because the seeds we planted   never sprouted and/or got eaten by a mammoth pumpkin vine.  We have a stash of seeds, and since we don't want to spend any money right now (long story) I had to figure out a way to make my own greenhouse with materials on hand.  

Last year, Little L brought home a ziplock baggie with a plant in it that they had sprouted with just a wet paper towel in her nursery school class.  She didn't know what kind of plant it was, and the teacher didn't send home and instructions, so we just set it in the window sill and watched it grow.  2.5 feet later, Little L said, "Oh yeah! It's a popcorn plant!"  It was too late to transplant that seedling, but the method might just work again.

So, here is our DIY sprout house. I hope it works!  If not, I'll see ya at Pike's nursery in May!

a GIANT

Well, it sure has been a while since I have blogged. I recently returned from California and a lovely woman there told me I should start blogging again. Now that I have access to a really smart phone, I can blog on the go. There's an app for that! Of course there is.

Well my Little Guy is now 8 years old. And Little L is 5.  G is 10. 10! Can you believe it?! Me neither. Unbelievable.

Today, Little Guy, who has turned out to be quite the gymnast, did his first Giant on the high bar. Of course, me being a non-gymnast mom, I had no idea what it was, but it was clearly a GIANT deal.  I am so proud.  

Basically a gargantuan, I mean giant, is when you swing ALLL the way around the bar, completely laid out, like a spinning hand on a clock.  I myself, cannot do a somersault without being dizzy for the next three days, so I am baffled that the kid was able to walk straight out of that gym with nary a wobble. 

Funniest thing happened though, while I was watching him at his practice.  These two other moms struck up a comvo with me. They talked about how their boys needed to score this many points to make it to regionals and they have  spreadsheets for their scores and how their boys need to do better on this event or that event. They asked how the level 4 boys were doing, and I said I think they are all doing well, and working hard.

They were nice enough, and then we started talking about how hard doing the pommel horse is.  There is this piece of equipment called the mushroom that the boys practice on to help develop the movements to do the pommel, and one of the moms said she just got one for her house for her kid. (at $350 it is not a small investment). She said she makes her kid practice on it for punishment for poor behavior. The other mom chimed in with she makes her kid do conditioning as punishment. (Sit ups, push ups, etc).  They looked at me.

Awkward silence.  I can't think of the last time I "punished" Little Guy.  Timeouts sometimes until he can get himself together and then join us again, but that's about it. I don't consider that a punishment, though... we all need a time out to ourselves sometimes.  I felt so bad for those boys.... They are only 8 or 9 years old.   

I eventually told the moms I have my kids clean for punishment, which technically isn't true... They clean up because we all have chores and they earn their allowance that way... But I felt weird telling them my kid doesn't do anything that requires me to punish him...  It's just not how we roll around here.  

I gave my Giant swinging Little Guy a giant hug after practice, and told him how I love watching him do his gymnastics and that I can tell he has been working so hard because it shows. 

Then he asked if he could please have a mushroom at our house so he could practice more on his own, and also could he please go to the gym on Tuesdays and Thursdays so he can practice more and work hard and get better?  And then he told me that he wants to be a gymnastics instructor when he grows up... and I felt like the best mom with the best kid in the world... and so glad that in his world, his sport is a pleasure, not a punishment.