You're In Good Hands

I was helping Twin Boy with his winter coat
because the zipper had split,
understandable since he is the third child to wear it.

But it's a really good winter coat
and the manufacturers of this particular brand
are great about customer service issues.

I told him,

"Don't worry, if this zipper is broken,
they'll send us a whole new coat!"

He looked down at it with new appreciation,
eleven-year-old wheels turning,

"Is this coat insured?"

*

Serendipity

I am making soup.

And just now the recipe called for 2 quarts of chicken broth,
but the can I bought was only 49.5 oz.

So I measured out one quart and poured it into the soup pot.
I poured the rest of the broth into the measuring cup
but of course it wasn't enough.

Then I found a leftover box of chicken broth in the refrigerator
and I poured all of that into the measuring cup
every last drop
and it came up exactly to the 1 quart line.

I think this bodes very well for my day.

*

This morning I have a stiff neck because over the weekend I drove into a ditch.

Twice.

I was parking in the dark at my sister's house,
where I was leaving our car,
so I could attend the surprise party for my brother two doors down.

There was a car in the driveway already
but it looked like I could fit next to it,
so I pulled up and

ka-chunk

my right wheel went down into the drainage ditch
next to the driveway.

It was sort of covered in leaves so I thought it was just earth
not a ditch.

Things like this don't trouble me too much.
We were all surprised but nobody was hurt,
so I laughed and said something dumb like,

"I just drove into a hole!
And now I'm gonna do it again!"

But see I didn't mean to do it again.

I meant to back out in a better way than I had pulled in,
but I didn't,
so I did do it again
and there was a harsh grating of metal
as my wheel went back down into the ditch
and the bottom of the car met the asphalt driveway.

It was sort of jarring, too, hence the stiff neck.

The first time I laughed,
the second time I smiled a fake smile
with lots of teeth and apologetic eyes
at the Husband who just blew out a bunch of air
that he had been saving for this moment apparently.

The kids were thrilled, as usual,
and sprinted ahead of us
two doors down to tell the gathered family
that I drove into a ditch.

I assumed a solemn face
and walked to the house quietly,
keeping my aggravating optimism
to myself.

*

Belated

I wrote this a couple of weeks ago but didn't get to post this until just this morning,
and re-reading it, I re-lived it,
and it turned out just as I hoped it would:


We picked up his tux last night and he tried it on, and he is so dashing,
so very dashing.
He looks so good in black.

At 4:30 he will stand with the court and have pictures taken,
at 5:30 he will ride in a convertible down Grand River to the school.

We will tailgate and buy cheesy potatoes and carmel apples from the cheerleaders and the FFA down by the football field,
and they will judge the floats,
and our lousy football team will beat whatever lousy team they've matched us up with on this day, because you always win at Homecoming.
And the stands will be packed with old people and kids who graduated last year,
and we will shiver and drink out of our thermoses and sing, "Hail to Webberville!" and stand up when the band plays it, clapping to the beat and yelling, "Hey!" at the end,
all in unison with our fists to the sky.

And afterwards, the cars will circle the track and the court will be introduced,
ending with the four senior couples, and they will slowly and tediously read the bios for each one over the loudspeaker, as the boys escort the shivering girls to their places.

And the whole time I will not quite be able to take it all in,
I will be kept from seeing the big picture,
because for me, all I will see is him.
All night long, I will know where he is, over by concessions, down by the gate,
up at the top of the stands, I will just know it by my sixth sense.
And I will look at the other mothers, so relaxed, as if this happens every day, and I will think to myself, "Can't you see that my son is the best of them all? Can't you see how handsome he is, how beautiful, how he outshines every other one?"

I can remember like it was yesterday, holding him in the back of the church,
with his head on my shoulder,
glad that he fussed so I could stand back there,
so I could have an excuse to focus just on him,
legitimately,
feeling my place as his mother so keenly,
and enjoying it so completely.

I can remember the rush of feeling in my chest when I kissed his little lips,
like falling in love,
and how he was so utterly and completely mine when he could fit in my arms.

And now I am bawling here all by myself.

But I want to feel it,
I want to think about it,
because this feeling of seeing him bloom,
beginning to let him go,
is just as powerful a joy, although painful,
as when I was his possessor.

Does that make sense?

My heart is just so full I can't stand it.














It was his first dance, Homecoming Dance of his senior year, and it was Middle Child's first dance too, as a freshman, and she fit right in to the house full of senior kids getting ready around her.

So many endings and beginnings.

*

Sunday morning

I am up early drinking the first cup of coffee
and delaying getting ready for church.

I just set my library copy of The Glass Castle on
the end table I searched for and bought at a garage sale.
It is scuffed but made from good wood and just the right shape.
It has a drawer that sort falls open because the
sliding mechanism is broken but I don't mind,
I just keep it closed.
Now I have a place next to my chair for a lamp
and to pile my books.

It is dark and the house is quiet,
and I just finished the book.
I was up late reading it, but I didn't want to finish.
Whenever I finish a very good book at night,
I can't get to sleep afterward.

So I left the very ending for this morning
and woke up early to read it.
Now it will speak to me for some days
unless I jump right into another good book,
which I am likely to do.
But if I can, I like to let it settle.

And this morning I am living dangerously,
because last week I left myself only
fifteen minutes to get ready,
and I made it.

Now, no matter how many warnings
I give myself,
somewhere deep inside I will know that I can make it
in fifteen minutes.

This is dangerous knowledge for my
robe-loving,
thrill-seeking,
independent
soul.

Cheers II

Hundreds of shrieking girls fill the hot, overcrowded gymnasium
where parents and aunts and uncles and siblings have spent the last
four hours of their lives,
subsisting on lukewarm pizza wrapped in tinfoil,
coffee, popcorn
and overpriced soda, can by can.

They are waiting for the judges to announce whether they will receive
a gold, a silver or a bronze for their months of hard work.
They've donned blindingly white tennis shoes
and pulled their hair back so tightly into ponytails
that their eyes water.
It's a good thing that they don't allow a stitch of eye makeup.

All of those coordinated hair ribbons are bouncing to the beat
of the Electric Slide and even though I have my head in my hands,
elbows on knees, ears plugged and eyes closed,
I can still appreciate their simple joy.

Of a job well done,
of hard work about to be rewarded,
of beautiful youth and the boundless energy that comes with it.

So I smile and watch her ponytail bounce,
her scrubbed face flushed with pride and silliness and happiness
for this, her moment.

I am glad she is so healthy and strong.

And so I cheer,
something I never pictured myself doing,
cheering for my cheerleader,
I yell,

"Blue! Gold! White!
Blue! Gold! White!"


and all of us,
the Husband,
the Teenager,
the Middle Child
and Twin Boy
and me
smile.

*

Cheers!

Today we were in a new church,
and at the end of the service
they served communion,

and I was closing my eyes in prayer
before drinking of the blood of Christ,
when I peeked at the twins

just in time to see them cheerfully clink their cups together
in a silent toast
to an understanding Jesus.

*

Cancellation

I have two students on Saturday mornings.
A 10:30, and an 11.

And some mornings when I am in my pajamas at 10,
thinking about splashing some water on my face
and heading down to the studio to make a little plan,
I wish for a nice relaxing slow morning instead of lessons.

This morning, wish granted, both cancelled.

So here I am with a second cup of coffee.

And that's how my world seems to work itself out
because today was going to be a very busy day.

Middle child in the parade at 2,
tractor pull downtown all afternoon,
(a place to see and be seen of course)
working the front gate at the rec league football game
for my cheerleader at 4:30,
evening Ox burgers and dollar rootbeer floats
at the Fireman's Field Days gathering
down by the fire station.

Okay now that I've written it all out,
it doesn't seem so hectic,
in fact it sounds like a really homey, country way
to spend a Saturday.

mmmm, coffee.

*

Hideous

I am wearing the most hideous thing imaginable.
It's a lime green tight jogging shirt with
lime green jogging shorts that don't quite match the shirt.

I can't explain its hideousness,
it's sort of like the pants come up a little too high,
and are a little too poofy,
and the top is a little too tightish and just not quite
the right shape.

And the top has to be tucked into the pants
because the shirt is too tight
and the shorts are too poofy.

All this to say,
I do not like these clothes,
and I am going to put them in the Goodwill bag,
but usually before I do that,
I like to wear the rejected clothing
one more time.

As if they know they are not wanted,
but I need them to know that no matter how repulsive
they are to me at this moment,
I still appreciate them.

And I do.

And I hope nobody drops over today.

The end.

*

Moon Train

Ooooooh, catch the Moon Train,
catch the Moon Train.

Ooooooh, catch the Moon Train,
catch the Moon Train.

All aboard, passengers,
we will take you through the night.

Never fear, when you're here
You will travel soft and light.

Oooooh, catch the Moon train,
catch the Moon Train.

Travelin' girl,
busy days,
got a lot of things to do.

Never slow, but maybe you'll,
ride us for a mile or two.

Ooooooh, catch the Moon Train,
catch the Moon Train.

Whistle blows,
then you'll know,
soon we'll see the morning light.

Engineer says,
"All is clear!"
Hope you had a beautiful night.

Ooooooh, catch the Moon Train,
catch the Moon Train.

Ooooooh, catch the Moon Train,
catch the Moon Train,

Ooooooh.

*

Walk

I was walking with the Teenager and then I sent him on home
and I took a detour
by of all things the lagoon system
because it's surrounded by lots of grass
and the Kalamink woods
and because the maintenance guy who always waves to me
from his mower, on my walks,
cuts a clean path through the brush,
right up to the creek.

It's a circular path, and nobody walks on it,
so sometimes I imagine he made it for me
and hopes I will walk there,
and see some beauty that is otherwise hidden by the scrub.

So I climbed a tree by the creek and put my head back
against the big limb that angled up behind me,
and I watched the geese fly south.

They formed an imperfect V,
and there were stragglers
and loud ones and quiet ones
and they kept coming
group after group.

And once I saw a lone geese calling
frantically, headed north,
and I thought,
he is late,
maybe he got preoccupied by some beauty
and now has to catch up.

I think that
the wrong direction
right then, for him,
was the right direction.

It made me feel good.
And then I went back home.

*

Friends

I heard singing.

So I looked around the corner in the basement
and they were singing together.

The Teenager and his sister,
Middle Child,
laughing and singing softly
all the words to some pop song
that I didn't know.

They are enjoying each other,
and it makes my heart glad.

*

Students

She walks in with a long string of plastic pearls double wrapped around her neck.

"I like your necklace!" I say.

"If I wrapped them three times around I would be choked!!" she answers.

She is six years old, my student returning from a summer off.

"I missed you so much," she says, "I haven't seen you in a WEEK!"

We sit down to play at the piano, side by side,
our eyes closed, hands on the keyboard.

"Now just play whatever notes your fingers fall on, and just listen
to what comes out," I say,

"Don't worry about what it sounds like, just listen.
Some things you will like, and some things you will not like."

"I don't like bees," she whispers, eyes screwed shut in concentration,

"or mosquitoes."

"Me neither," I whisper back as we play.

"And I left myself on the bus," she says, opening her eyes and dropping her hands.

I do the same and look at her.

"What happened?"

"I didn't get off at my stop," she explains,

"I blame my brother."

"That's what I would do," I say.

Later she is sounding out words in her workbook.

"It's Wolfgang," I say helpfully when she gets stuck.

"Hahahaha!" she laughs, "What is that?"

"That's Mozart's first name!" I say.

"Oh," she says,

"What is his last name?"

*

Fantasy

First weekend of football almost over.
And I'm getting creamed.

Flacco and Jamaal Charles to watch tomorrow night,
but,
it's not gonna be enough.

Really? Pro football?

I don't even know who I am anymore.

*

A Cool Thing

My Florida cousin, Kelle, appears in this month's issue of Parents magazine
and I can't tell you which page because I left my copy at a dinner party last night
where I took it to show all of my friends.

But this is what the magazine looks like:


And she posts about it on her blog here.

I love reading her blog.
When there is a new post it's like getting a present.

Peace!
*

Surveys

My cousin over on Go Green challenged readers to contribute to these surveys. Choose a question and give me your best answer!

What's a video you'd recommend for staying in on a cold, rainy, fall night?
There's a video I saw a long time ago that I'd like to see again, it's called, "Finding Neverland". I remember at the end during the credits there was this really pretty piano piece, and I want to hear it again.

What's a song you listen to when you want to get pumped up?
Beat It, Michael Jackson

What's a book you've read over and over?
I'd have to say, "Little Women", I really love that book.

Where do you go in the fall for a little day trip?
BEST MAZE of course! It's a corn maze right here where we live. They have a super scary one and then a regular one for wimps like me.

What's your best easy recipe?
Every once in awhile we have "Nachos Italiano", which is a recipe we copied from this cool place we used to visit when we lived in Florida. It was a movie theatre with little round tables and soft swivel chairs. During the previews and during the first few minutes of the movie, waitresses snuck around in the dark and took your food orders. So you could eat dinner and watch a movie at the same time!

Nachos Italiano
Tortilla Chips
Pizza sauce
Mozzarella cheese
Pepperoni
Aluminum Foil

Cover a cookie sheet with foil.
Spread with chips
Dollop chips with pizza sauce and pepperoni.
Sprinkle plenty of shredded cheese over the top.
Broil in oven just until cheese melts and starts to bubble.
Put the tray on the table and everybody just dive in
immediately before it cools!

What website do you visit just for fun?
Recently I've been visiting www.woot.com for their daily deal.
The descriptions are funny, and the deals can be really good!

*

All By Myself

Today the Husband said a funny thing happened.
He thinks I accidentally called him from my cell phone,
because when he answered all he heard was me
having a conversation with somebody about Canada.

I must have sat on my cell phone weirdly,
but it was just me in the car alone,
practicing my Australian accent.

"So you were talking to yourself about Canada, with an Australian accent?"

"Yes," I said.

It's really disappointing to have to explain yourself like this all the time.

*

First Day 2010

The Teenager (Senior)


Middle Child (Freshman)


Twin Girl (6th grade)


Twin Boy (6th Grade)


Every "first day" since Kindergarten, we have walked them to school.
It gave us time to talk and calm the jitters,
time to see them to the door with one last hug.


This year they all went off without us.
They are really growing up.

*

Best Kids Ever

This weekend I had an incredibly busy schedule,
and the Husband was working.

It was also the weekend of the first game for Twin Girl.
She cheers her heart out, and a parent always attends,
sitting through two long hours of rec league football,
stale nachos and lukewarm coffee,
because we love her.

I didn't make a big deal out of the fact that we'd both miss her first game.
The children would be alone all day, and I just matter-of-factly went over
the schedule with her -
what time she would hop on her bike,
to remember to take her water,
to lay out her uniform the night before,
and to not talk to strangers of course.

She's eleven years old, and the school is only a mile away,
an easy bike ride, and I wasn't worried
but I did have a twinge of guilt about missing the game.

Anyway, later that afternoon I called from out of town
to check on them and got a breathless Middle Child on the phone.

"Twin Boy and I just got back from the game," she said.

I was surprised, "You went to her game?"

"Well, yeah, we wanted her to have somebody in the stands. It was so cold
though, so we walked back home after half-time. The Teenager is still there."

I said, "Where did you get the money to get in?"

"Oh yeah," she said, "I took my own money because I was going to buy us all snacks,
but then when I got up there I remembered we had to pay to get in."

"So no snacks?" I said, "and you used your own money?"

"Yeah," she said, "that's alright."

Later I talked with the Teenager, because Saturday was cold,
and I couldn't imagine him voluntarily giving up his warm spot on the couch
to go sit for two hours on the hard bleachers,
with no other teenagers in sight,
only a bunch of little kids bumping into each other on the football field.

I said, "Did Daddy tell you you had to go?"

He said, "No, I just thought someone should go with her. I sent the other kids home after half-time. It was really long."

I sat there with tears in my eyes, holding the phone.
He rode his bike up with her a half hour before the game, stayed with her the whole time
and then rode her home afterwards.

My kids,
little Boxcar Children for a day,
supporting their sister and taking care of her when we couldn't.

They love each other.

It makes me so happy.

*

Lap of Lux

I am sleeping at my parents' house tonight.
Busy, busy weekend, with performance last night,
memorial service this morning, wedding rehearsal this afternoon
and a wedding tomorrow.

My parents are "local" to the events so here I am and I must say
it is always good to be home.

When I got here, my parents weren't back yet
but I found a tupperware of homemade oatmeal raisin cookies on the counter.
I ate four.

My mom made my supper, but I wouldn't let her cook me up something fresh.
I said I wanted the mysterious thing in the pyrex dish in the fridge.
All I knew is that it was a leftover of my mom's cooking.
It had chicken and cheese and stuff in it.
mmmmmmm

She grudgingly warmed it up for me
but kept asking what else I wanted to go with it.
What did I want to drink?
Do I want chips?
(heck, YEAH!)
"Let me get you dessert!"

Was my life really like this when I was a child?
If so, when did I lose my mind, grow up and leave this luxurious place?

Later I plan on getting stung by a bee.

*