Spring is just about here. (I'm trying to be realistic just in case there's another freak blizzard.) A young girl's fancy turns to... baseball? This has been going through my head all day. Clearly, I'm not young and you've probably never heard me mention baseball before. Not only that, it's probably softball anyhow.
For some reason the baseball mitts and balls have appeared in my living room. I'm not sure why the spawn have brought these out, where they found them, what they are doing with them, or why I still hope they will eventually put them away somewhere more sensible. In any case, there this items sit. Calling to me. Making me think random thoughts of games with bats, balls, and mitts.
A couple times a summer I may feel inclined to put on a mitt and play some catch. I may throw like a girl, but I like to throw hard. If there's no smoke coming out of the mitt, there's no point. If I can move my shoulder the next day, we didn't play long enough. The kids are afraid of me. (Might have something to do with my aim.) Hubby occasionally will play- let's be serious, he'll do whatever I ask him to do. He's that kind of accommodating. However, when we play, I can still feel my hand at the end. Not hard enough. Still... a bit diverting.
I got to thinking about my youth (this is where the young girl part comes in.) I grew up on a cul de sac, next door to the boy who was 7 days younger than me, but a year ahead of me in school, and up the street from a nice Irish boy. (It is St. Patrick's Day, after all. Had to mention that.) The three of us used to play this game (that I can't remember the name of) in the "circle". One person batted the ball, the other two fielded, then the batter laid down the bat, and the catcher rolled the ball to hit the bat. Great game! We had another game we played in the backyard. This one I do remember the name of- Rundown! There were two people playing catch and the third in the middle trying not to get tagged. I'm certain that I got caught a lot. I don't remember that, but I certainly do remember the fun.
Regarding baseball teams... of course I'm a Pirates fan. Alas, the same kind of Pirates fan as I am a Steelers fan. So when they are in the Playoffs, I'm watching. (not holding my breath) Now, back in the day, oh yea. I watched the Pirates. The day being when Chuck Tanner was coach. Dave Parker was a wild man. Willie Stargell was a gentleman. How could I not watch the Pirates? My dad hogged the TV, so that's what I had to watch. It's more painful to watch TV with my dad these days. He's a fanatical clicker. We get 10 minutes of baseball, 7 minutes of John Wayne, 8 minutes of Dirty Jobs. Makes my head spin. There's always something better to do at my house, so I don't even know which channel they broadcast the Pirates. I will find out if the World Series is a possibility.
My parents live in Altoona now, so they've taken us to see the Curve about once a year. Us being the girls, hubby and I. My mom is disinclined. The girls are way more interested in wandering about than in watching baseball. We did have fun watching the silly games and their mascot. Why can't I remember what the Curve mascot is? Something vaguely Grimace-ish. We stopped going to the Curve when the Spikes came to State College. I will say the Curve was more fun.
The first Spikes game we went to was for hubby's work party. We had a buffet and seats practically outside of the outfield. Not a lot of action out there. Trust me. I will tell you that one of the Spike outfielders of that season was a lying, cheating scumbag. He "fielded" a pop fly and raised his mitt in glory. No one knew any differently. No one in authority anyhow. We observant ones who were sitting beyond the outfield absolutely saw that ball hit the ground before his mitt. Yessirree, Bob. Lying, cheating, scumbag. It was a year or two before I permitted us to attend another game. The next game we sat in the real seats, near the food (and possibly there was a beer as well), where we didn't have to observe the action in the outfield. Instead we watched Ike the Spike do lascivious things with old ladies and the Nookie (what the heck kind of name is that?) dance for homeruns. Much more entertaining.
Hotdogs. I have to feed the only children on the planet who won't eat hotdogs. or macaroni and cheese.
Apple pie. Hubby makes the best apple pie in the world. That's all I have to say about that. Except that there was talk of pie recently.
Chevrolet. I learned to drive in a Chevy Citation. What a cute car. I loved that car. I will admit to being an idiot in the car many times. There was this great hill that was really not on my way to anywhere. But still I drove to the street just to go down that hill. If you were going fast enough when you hit the top of the hill the tires left the pavement. Roller coaster, baby! One time I was driving with some major appliance in the back (not actually an odd occurrence in my youth), and cruised that hill. The box hit the roof. I'm probably lucky it didn't go through the roof. And once there was a mound of dirt in the parking lot of the church. Yup, I had to go over it. My dad wondered a bit how the tail pipe got bent and why there was dirt in it. I suspect he knew who the culprit was. I may have admitted it. On the other hand, I may not.
One more thing. Three Rivers Stadium. I may never have been inside (which is debatable), but I was sad to see it go. It was representative of the goodness of youth, when Pittsburgh was home and the home team was black and gold.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Saturday, March 5, 2011
going on an adventure
"Adventure brings excitement, creative flow, and energy, and these are essential to you. Yours is a highly artistic nature. Continual stimulation is required to keep your psyche healthy. Experience something new today. Even if it's just a walk to a place you've never been, it will give you the adrenaline you need." a recent horoscope for me, the epitome of a Sagitarius.
Yup, I'm one of those dorks who likes reading my horoscope. Sometimes because it is just so wrong. Sometimes because it is just so right.
This one caught my attention for the right part. I've been a little bored lately. I do crave adventure and newness. Not the bungee jumping kind of adventure- I'm way too boring and restrained (and chicken) for that. I do seem to live my life to say the words, "what the hell was I thinking?" Sometimes it's helping backstage at a local theater show when I'm teaching summer camps every day. (which is in itself in the WTHWIT category). Sometimes it's volunteering to cut hundreds of fringes for kids to tie pillows to give to hospital patients. Sometimes it's taking classes at Penn State or taking up water colors or learning to play the oboe (or more recently clarinet) or Irish Step dancing or playing a piano duet at a recital or dying my hair orange (supposed to be blond, but it was orange). I seem to crave putting myself out on a limb with the potential for huge embarrassment. So right now I'm lacking in the potential for huge embarrassment department. For some reason this makes me a little sad.
It also makes me think (something that I don't generally like to do.) Do I really need to put myself out there to have adventure? Heck, no. My little life is loaded with adventure. My two daughters are an adventure every day. This morning we had the drama of auditions for that local theater. This involved wailing. If these two could put as much emotion on the stage, I could be a Broadway mother. Oh, and let it be known, I was right. Spawn #1 had a good time. My job? An adventure every day too. I'm in constant motion doing who knows what every second of the day. Our classroom motto is "be flexible". The kids are always laughing at me- whether I'm calling them by the wrong names (some days I just call everyone "Fred") or saying some nonsensical word like "hooziedink" (their favorite). One day my little buddy, who's always happy to let me know when I'm being goofy, said he was "having a Mrs. Koch moment." Meaning that he was either forgetful or unfocused or silly or all of the above. I had to laugh at that. The college thing is not so much a whim anymore. It looks like I'm actually going to pursue that advanced degree. Who knew I would finally do that? Not me. For sure an adventure. Taking classes with 20somethings who share their interesting weekend stories while the prof is in the room is a thrill.
This is the part of the blog where I have inserted random quotes about adventuring.
“Remember what Bilbo used to say: It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.” — Tolkien
So sometime take a walk and see where you end up. It may be a walk past that fabulous house that you'd love to live in someday. It may be the convenience store to buy a bag of contraband chips. It may be through the woods or up a mountain or on the beach (if you're lucky). It may not even be a walk. Ignore the price of gas and take a wrong turn and keep on going. You may drive past a llama farm or a gorgeous sun-dappled view. Take a trip with your family (an adventure all of its own), get lost of course, tell stories, sing songs, fight with each other. I may suggest you don't drive over a curb and trash your car on the way to the beach or leave the hot dogs on the kitchen counter on your way to the campsite. (I may also suggest that you don't travel with my family.)
“Only those who risk going too far can possibly find out how far they can go.” — T.S Eliot
What do you lose by trying something a little far out? Maybe some sleep. Maybe a little bit of your self-respect for a little while. But, all in all, the trying will probably get you a lot more than you lose. Maybe not in the way you might think, but wisdom is also part of the adventure.
“Adventure isn’t hanging on a rope off the side of a mountain. Adventure is an attitude that we must apply to the day to day obstacles of life.” — John Amatt
Who the heck is John Amatt anyway? Whoever he is, he is absolutely right. Life is the adventure. There's no direct path from here to there. There's more than one way to choose. Keep adventure in your heart and be prepared to find yourself unprepared, untrained, and surprised.
“ if you’re alive, you’ve got to flap your arms and legs, you’ve got to jump around a lot, you’ve got to make a lot of noise, because life is the very opposite of death.” — Mel Brooks
Do not be well-behaved. Make a scene in public. Dance in your living room with your spawn. The adventure of life is not a quiet thing. Life is loud and wiggly. (just like my kids)
Bored, schmored. I have no reason or right to be bored. There are books to read, songs to sing, places to go, and people to meet. I just need to decide which adventure to have today.
Yup, I'm one of those dorks who likes reading my horoscope. Sometimes because it is just so wrong. Sometimes because it is just so right.
This one caught my attention for the right part. I've been a little bored lately. I do crave adventure and newness. Not the bungee jumping kind of adventure- I'm way too boring and restrained (and chicken) for that. I do seem to live my life to say the words, "what the hell was I thinking?" Sometimes it's helping backstage at a local theater show when I'm teaching summer camps every day. (which is in itself in the WTHWIT category). Sometimes it's volunteering to cut hundreds of fringes for kids to tie pillows to give to hospital patients. Sometimes it's taking classes at Penn State or taking up water colors or learning to play the oboe (or more recently clarinet) or Irish Step dancing or playing a piano duet at a recital or dying my hair orange (supposed to be blond, but it was orange). I seem to crave putting myself out on a limb with the potential for huge embarrassment. So right now I'm lacking in the potential for huge embarrassment department. For some reason this makes me a little sad.
It also makes me think (something that I don't generally like to do.) Do I really need to put myself out there to have adventure? Heck, no. My little life is loaded with adventure. My two daughters are an adventure every day. This morning we had the drama of auditions for that local theater. This involved wailing. If these two could put as much emotion on the stage, I could be a Broadway mother. Oh, and let it be known, I was right. Spawn #1 had a good time. My job? An adventure every day too. I'm in constant motion doing who knows what every second of the day. Our classroom motto is "be flexible". The kids are always laughing at me- whether I'm calling them by the wrong names (some days I just call everyone "Fred") or saying some nonsensical word like "hooziedink" (their favorite). One day my little buddy, who's always happy to let me know when I'm being goofy, said he was "having a Mrs. Koch moment." Meaning that he was either forgetful or unfocused or silly or all of the above. I had to laugh at that. The college thing is not so much a whim anymore. It looks like I'm actually going to pursue that advanced degree. Who knew I would finally do that? Not me. For sure an adventure. Taking classes with 20somethings who share their interesting weekend stories while the prof is in the room is a thrill.
This is the part of the blog where I have inserted random quotes about adventuring.
“Remember what Bilbo used to say: It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.” — Tolkien
So sometime take a walk and see where you end up. It may be a walk past that fabulous house that you'd love to live in someday. It may be the convenience store to buy a bag of contraband chips. It may be through the woods or up a mountain or on the beach (if you're lucky). It may not even be a walk. Ignore the price of gas and take a wrong turn and keep on going. You may drive past a llama farm or a gorgeous sun-dappled view. Take a trip with your family (an adventure all of its own), get lost of course, tell stories, sing songs, fight with each other. I may suggest you don't drive over a curb and trash your car on the way to the beach or leave the hot dogs on the kitchen counter on your way to the campsite. (I may also suggest that you don't travel with my family.)
What do you lose by trying something a little far out? Maybe some sleep. Maybe a little bit of your self-respect for a little while. But, all in all, the trying will probably get you a lot more than you lose. Maybe not in the way you might think, but wisdom is also part of the adventure.
“Adventure isn’t hanging on a rope off the side of a mountain. Adventure is an attitude that we must apply to the day to day obstacles of life.” — John Amatt
Who the heck is John Amatt anyway? Whoever he is, he is absolutely right. Life is the adventure. There's no direct path from here to there. There's more than one way to choose. Keep adventure in your heart and be prepared to find yourself unprepared, untrained, and surprised.
“ if you’re alive, you’ve got to flap your arms and legs, you’ve got to jump around a lot, you’ve got to make a lot of noise, because life is the very opposite of death.” — Mel Brooks
Do not be well-behaved. Make a scene in public. Dance in your living room with your spawn. The adventure of life is not a quiet thing. Life is loud and wiggly. (just like my kids)
Bored, schmored. I have no reason or right to be bored. There are books to read, songs to sing, places to go, and people to meet. I just need to decide which adventure to have today.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
empty chairs
As I stare out in the back yard I see my little fire pit enclave- a stone fire pit with an adirondack chair and an odd wooden couch with no cushions. Everything was covered with a few inches of snow, up until today when the ice storm condensed the snow into a shiny, but less pretty mess of destitution. I saw these empty chairs combined with the throes of a cold winter and the seating reflected my mood. But this vision, this seeming reality, led me to think of another pair of empty chairs. A very talented photographer friend of mine took a picture of two chairs perched together for conversation in the midst of a flowerbed of what we technically called "blue flowers." The first time I saw this photograph I fell in love with it. These two chairs, although empty, are filled with promise. The promise of another spring. The promise of fulfilling their purpose of conversation. A copy of this photograph will soon be mine to enjoy every day. (I couldn't be more thrilled that this friend accepted an exchange of her photograph for a pair of handcrocheted mittens- fun to make, more fun to someday see warming her fingers.) Envisioning the promise of those chairs made me think and rethink about empty chairs.
I think of my favorite chair, which we call my "office". This ridiculous chair, very comfy, purchased for $3 at Centre Peace resale shop on a complete whim, is a scene of comfort in my house. This chair in which I can find a hundred ways to sit comfortably while reading, crocheting, sometimes napping. This chair the location of many conversations with the children. There have been numerous times when I would say to a crying Katie girl, "Do you want to come into my office?" She sits on my lap (sometimes even still and quiet), as we negotiate through the drama of her life. An office conversation never fails to end with a hug and a laugh.
I think on the funny little love seat I insisted we pick up off the street. Yes, I'm somewhat ashamed to say we are notorious furniture scroungers. This happens when you have 2 messy kids and 3 cats with claws. We learned the hard way that there is no point in buying nice furniture. This love seat currently is not empty- holding the bellowing child who wants me to be there with her instead of blogging. However, when it is empty I can think of many times when it is not. The times when we watch a family movie. We've tried to have all four of us sit on this little couch. If anyone could sit still, this might work- it's a tight fit, but doable. I can think on nights after the kids are asleep (getting rarer with that teenager who stays up too late), when the man and I can share a moment of quiet closeness or watch tv together. We have to be close, not only because it's a small couch, but also because the cushions lean in to the middle. Then I can remember a gathering of friends where somehow we had 10 people draped and gathered on this funny little couch and somehow we still looked comfortable.
That little fire pit arrangement in the back yard doesn't represent destitution at all. The chairs may be empty now (and I sort of think I might go sit in the rain today), but they hold the promise of future fullness and memories of the past. Those empty chairs hold memories of a chilly October evening when friends sat around that fire enjoying conversation and laughter. Those empty chairs hold memories of my daughter Katie and I huddled in blankets as I read (with too little light) aloud Harry Potter. Those empty chairs hold the memory that my handy hubby created that fire pit because I said I'd like one and helped me drag those chairs around it. So. An empty chair is simply a chair that is not currently physically occupied- but there is plenty in it.
I think of my favorite chair, which we call my "office". This ridiculous chair, very comfy, purchased for $3 at Centre Peace resale shop on a complete whim, is a scene of comfort in my house. This chair in which I can find a hundred ways to sit comfortably while reading, crocheting, sometimes napping. This chair the location of many conversations with the children. There have been numerous times when I would say to a crying Katie girl, "Do you want to come into my office?" She sits on my lap (sometimes even still and quiet), as we negotiate through the drama of her life. An office conversation never fails to end with a hug and a laugh.
I think on the funny little love seat I insisted we pick up off the street. Yes, I'm somewhat ashamed to say we are notorious furniture scroungers. This happens when you have 2 messy kids and 3 cats with claws. We learned the hard way that there is no point in buying nice furniture. This love seat currently is not empty- holding the bellowing child who wants me to be there with her instead of blogging. However, when it is empty I can think of many times when it is not. The times when we watch a family movie. We've tried to have all four of us sit on this little couch. If anyone could sit still, this might work- it's a tight fit, but doable. I can think on nights after the kids are asleep (getting rarer with that teenager who stays up too late), when the man and I can share a moment of quiet closeness or watch tv together. We have to be close, not only because it's a small couch, but also because the cushions lean in to the middle. Then I can remember a gathering of friends where somehow we had 10 people draped and gathered on this funny little couch and somehow we still looked comfortable.
That little fire pit arrangement in the back yard doesn't represent destitution at all. The chairs may be empty now (and I sort of think I might go sit in the rain today), but they hold the promise of future fullness and memories of the past. Those empty chairs hold memories of a chilly October evening when friends sat around that fire enjoying conversation and laughter. Those empty chairs hold memories of my daughter Katie and I huddled in blankets as I read (with too little light) aloud Harry Potter. Those empty chairs hold the memory that my handy hubby created that fire pit because I said I'd like one and helped me drag those chairs around it. So. An empty chair is simply a chair that is not currently physically occupied- but there is plenty in it.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Life in Space
"When in doubt, blow something up." - J. Michael Stracynski
This quote was at the top of one of the chapters of a very entertaining book I just finished reading. A fun, escapist novel about four author friends who end up writing together a novel about four author friends. Clearly this is the kind of friendship we all crave. The kinds of friends who would drop everything to help one of their own who is at the bottom of a pit of despair. However, each of the friends has a secret, which comes out when their bestseller, written under only one name, gets analyzed on an Oprah-like talk show. Chaos ensues, the friendships falter, lawsuits out the kazoo. Then we get the happy ending that I generally require from my reading material: friendships are saved, marriages are saved, contracts are saved, new relationships bloom where appropriate. Happily ever after.
Then there's real life, where breaking a contract is wrong, secrets are damaging, and friendships can't withstand everything they are put through. This is where the blowing up quote fits in. In the immortal words of Kaylee, "Sometimes a thing gets broke can't be fixed." Surprisingly enough, it's kind of a relief knowing that. In the show, of course, they will all die if they can't replace that part. So that's not the relief. But knowing that particular item is lost to them forever, means they waste no time on trying to fix it, but concentrate instead on finding a replacement part. Not that I'm looking for replacement parts right now, but I know the "catalyzer" is gone forever.
Kosh said, "Understanding is a three-edged sword." The two points of view and the truth in between. The truth is out there. Oh, wait, not my sci-fi show. Truth is sharp. Sometimes the truth severs, but sometimes the truth leaves a clean line that can be stitched and eventually healed. Serenity, the vessel of my life, is getting some renovations. My own Cap'n Tightpants/Wash (we all know he's the funny one) is a rock solid driver. My crew is getting a little more personal attention. We're sometimes out in the black on our own. But at least now we're not headed to a black hole. "Brilliant plan, I'm sure we'll all be saved."
Life lessons from space shows: When you are sailing your spaceship into the dark, you'd best be keeping your eyes wide open and consulting star charts. Sometimes your destination is a nice planet. Sometimes it's a place like Z'hadum. You have to decide if the potential for doom is worth the trip. It probably isn't. River Tam regarding cows in a spaceship, "They weren't cows inside. They were waiting to be, but they forgot. Now they see the sky and they remember what they are." Let nothing get in the way of remembering who you are or who you want to be. Shepherd Book said, "You're going to burn in a very special level of hell. A level they reserve for child molesters and people who talk at the theater." Well, frankly, that has nothing to do with this, I just like the quote. G'Kar claims, "No one here is exactly what he appears." We all have layers. Some are good, some are not. Pay attention to your dealings with others: do your best to show your true self, but be aware that you might be hiding something. And the other person? Also a human with feelings, faults, hidden layers. Another G'Kar quote: "I'm delirious with joy. It proves that if you confront the universe with good intentions in your heart, it will reflect that and reward your intent. Usually. It just doesn't always do it in the way you expect." Gives me hope for a future of better decisions and the awareness that the path is never clear.
Many thanks to: Babylon 5, Firefly and The Accidental Bestseller by Wendy Wax.
This quote was at the top of one of the chapters of a very entertaining book I just finished reading. A fun, escapist novel about four author friends who end up writing together a novel about four author friends. Clearly this is the kind of friendship we all crave. The kinds of friends who would drop everything to help one of their own who is at the bottom of a pit of despair. However, each of the friends has a secret, which comes out when their bestseller, written under only one name, gets analyzed on an Oprah-like talk show. Chaos ensues, the friendships falter, lawsuits out the kazoo. Then we get the happy ending that I generally require from my reading material: friendships are saved, marriages are saved, contracts are saved, new relationships bloom where appropriate. Happily ever after.
Then there's real life, where breaking a contract is wrong, secrets are damaging, and friendships can't withstand everything they are put through. This is where the blowing up quote fits in. In the immortal words of Kaylee, "Sometimes a thing gets broke can't be fixed." Surprisingly enough, it's kind of a relief knowing that. In the show, of course, they will all die if they can't replace that part. So that's not the relief. But knowing that particular item is lost to them forever, means they waste no time on trying to fix it, but concentrate instead on finding a replacement part. Not that I'm looking for replacement parts right now, but I know the "catalyzer" is gone forever.
Kosh said, "Understanding is a three-edged sword." The two points of view and the truth in between. The truth is out there. Oh, wait, not my sci-fi show. Truth is sharp. Sometimes the truth severs, but sometimes the truth leaves a clean line that can be stitched and eventually healed. Serenity, the vessel of my life, is getting some renovations. My own Cap'n Tightpants/Wash (we all know he's the funny one) is a rock solid driver. My crew is getting a little more personal attention. We're sometimes out in the black on our own. But at least now we're not headed to a black hole. "Brilliant plan, I'm sure we'll all be saved."
Life lessons from space shows: When you are sailing your spaceship into the dark, you'd best be keeping your eyes wide open and consulting star charts. Sometimes your destination is a nice planet. Sometimes it's a place like Z'hadum. You have to decide if the potential for doom is worth the trip. It probably isn't. River Tam regarding cows in a spaceship, "They weren't cows inside. They were waiting to be, but they forgot. Now they see the sky and they remember what they are." Let nothing get in the way of remembering who you are or who you want to be. Shepherd Book said, "You're going to burn in a very special level of hell. A level they reserve for child molesters and people who talk at the theater." Well, frankly, that has nothing to do with this, I just like the quote. G'Kar claims, "No one here is exactly what he appears." We all have layers. Some are good, some are not. Pay attention to your dealings with others: do your best to show your true self, but be aware that you might be hiding something. And the other person? Also a human with feelings, faults, hidden layers. Another G'Kar quote: "I'm delirious with joy. It proves that if you confront the universe with good intentions in your heart, it will reflect that and reward your intent. Usually. It just doesn't always do it in the way you expect." Gives me hope for a future of better decisions and the awareness that the path is never clear.
Many thanks to: Babylon 5, Firefly and The Accidental Bestseller by Wendy Wax.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
resolution about resolutions
New Year's Resolutions. I'm the queen of making them- usually the queen of breaking them within a week. Those were the resolutions that are BORING: lose weight, get healthier, exercise, be more patient. Ick. Resolutions used to be about following rules.
Last year I made a different kind of resolution: play. This was a good resolution for me. I needed more fun in my life- I was bored, dissatisfied, unhappy. I was quite successful with this resolution. I had a great year. I made new friends, tried new things, played Rock Band on the Wii, took a girl time weekend, went to parties, played games with my kids, reconnected with the spouse, got happy. And being happy and playful spilled over into everything else. I smiled more and laughed often. I began enjoying again the things I used to love. I made scenes with my family (usually in the living room, but not always). I even had a good time working.
I started writing. I took two classes (still contemplating grad school) both of which required writing- even that was fun for me. I started this blog just because I knew you wanted to know my everything little thought. I found other writing outlets. I've wanted to write children's books for most of my adult life and just never took that plunge. I still haven't, but I still might. In any case, I've discovered this is not the only option for me. You never know, I may actually write a book someday. As readers of my blog (suckers), you are entitled to signed first editions.
I rediscovered my family as a source of amusement. They are funny. Hardly a day goes by when something doesn't come up that is wildly hilarious. And I laugh. I don't hide it. I guarantee you that the ability to laugh at one's (self and) family makes the rough times much more bearable. Often, in fact, a rough spot can be patched nicely with a little laughter. This is especially true with my volatile pre-preteen. With a little strategically placed giggle, I can turn her colossal fit of temper into a colossal fit of laughter. You know, of course, that the older spawn and I can guffaw uncontrollably together. They think I'm a bit wacky and perhaps "inappropriate"- Rebecca's word. Wacky is good.
With the rapid approach of 2011, I got to thinking about what I wanted from this new year. I do have some things that need to be improved upon that probably require a little seriousness. But I don't want to ditch my "have fun" state of mind. It's good for us. I need to be a better parent, get spawn #1 on the school bus occasionally, work on the colossal temper of #2, maybe dig through the disaster that is my home. I've decided that play is still top priority, but that maybe playing with my kids more would be the solution. They are always looking for more attention and perhaps getting more of the play variety attention (instead of the nagging that we all hate) will lead to improvements in the serious stuff. Of course, playing with my people is fun!
Last year I made a different kind of resolution: play. This was a good resolution for me. I needed more fun in my life- I was bored, dissatisfied, unhappy. I was quite successful with this resolution. I had a great year. I made new friends, tried new things, played Rock Band on the Wii, took a girl time weekend, went to parties, played games with my kids, reconnected with the spouse, got happy. And being happy and playful spilled over into everything else. I smiled more and laughed often. I began enjoying again the things I used to love. I made scenes with my family (usually in the living room, but not always). I even had a good time working.
I started writing. I took two classes (still contemplating grad school) both of which required writing- even that was fun for me. I started this blog just because I knew you wanted to know my everything little thought. I found other writing outlets. I've wanted to write children's books for most of my adult life and just never took that plunge. I still haven't, but I still might. In any case, I've discovered this is not the only option for me. You never know, I may actually write a book someday. As readers of my blog (suckers), you are entitled to signed first editions.
I rediscovered my family as a source of amusement. They are funny. Hardly a day goes by when something doesn't come up that is wildly hilarious. And I laugh. I don't hide it. I guarantee you that the ability to laugh at one's (self and) family makes the rough times much more bearable. Often, in fact, a rough spot can be patched nicely with a little laughter. This is especially true with my volatile pre-preteen. With a little strategically placed giggle, I can turn her colossal fit of temper into a colossal fit of laughter. You know, of course, that the older spawn and I can guffaw uncontrollably together. They think I'm a bit wacky and perhaps "inappropriate"- Rebecca's word. Wacky is good.
With the rapid approach of 2011, I got to thinking about what I wanted from this new year. I do have some things that need to be improved upon that probably require a little seriousness. But I don't want to ditch my "have fun" state of mind. It's good for us. I need to be a better parent, get spawn #1 on the school bus occasionally, work on the colossal temper of #2, maybe dig through the disaster that is my home. I've decided that play is still top priority, but that maybe playing with my kids more would be the solution. They are always looking for more attention and perhaps getting more of the play variety attention (instead of the nagging that we all hate) will lead to improvements in the serious stuff. Of course, playing with my people is fun!
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Blatant ploy to humiliate spawn
Rebecca made up some interesting words in your youth. She rode a "bitocycle" and played the "pleando". Then there's the common phrase in her young life, "a long time ago yesterday". With a younger sister, she's had many opportunities to teach (sometimes even appropriate stuff). Katie said "handenooger". Rebecca wanted her to say it correctly, so carefully constructed a lesson plan. Say "ham". Say "burger". Say "hamburger." The response? "ham", "burger", "handenooger". She still obsesses about this.
Home improvements in my house will never be televised on network tv. John was working on some project in our house in Maryland, using the colorful language that is required for home improvement work. Little Miss Becky was a quick study. She dropped something while sitting in her car seat and said loudly "Tom Gammit" with the proper tone and heat. This still makes me laugh (mostly because you'd have to know the story to really know what she meant.) When we moved to this house, I spent a lot of summers painting the outside (it used to be rust and green-gag!). One day I'm on the ladder and Becky came storming outside to ask, "Mommy, can I listen to you?" I nearly fell off the ladder laughing. I'd been wondering that for years.
Then there was the day she came home from Kindergarten testing to say she didn't want to be "Becky" anymore, she wanted to be called "Rebecca". Turns out she'd rather write 7 letters than learn to write a "k". Yes, do note that our last name starts with a "K". She never has been one for confronting a challenge. Once we went to Penns Cave (see it by boat) and she couldn't walk down to the cave entrance because she was "afraid from the lion".
It also seems likely that this one is my clone. I used to call my mother complaining about some irritating thing Rebecca had said or done, and my mom would just laugh. I fully anticipate returning the favor when Rebecca has her family. In her young days, we were guaranteed to make an epic scene. There were many times when we were banned or glared out of playgroups and activities. So all the embarrassment I cause her now is total payback.
I could write a book about her sleeping habits. When she was baby, nighttime was not the right time for sleeping. She did not approve. One night I discovered that she found stenciling entertaining. So in the middle of the night, I'd be standing on a ladder in her room painting those cute little balloons around her room. Naptime? Not so much. We would have world war III getting a nap in (for me- I had stuff to do). There were many days when I'd lay down with her at 1pm or so and the rugrat wouldn't actually stop moving long enough to go to sleep until 4pm. No, I didn't decide to give up, but I was certainly wound up by the time she got to sleep. I can't tell you how many times I drove around to put her to sleep. And she liked riding the top of the dryer too. I was one tense first-time mother. She didn't help. She was kind enough to finally sleep through the night when she turned 4- when her sister was born. Thanks. She's still not fond of sleeping- especially on the weekends.
She has had some wacko ideas too. My little drama queen made special friends easily. Whenever we'd have to leave the playground, she would wail "I'll never see her again! She's my best friend!" I'd ask, "What's her name?". She'd yodel back, "I have no idea!" Then there was the preschool love triangle. She was going to marry Lucas K and be a farmer's wife. Never mind that Lucas has terrible allergies, and Rebecca has bad relationships with farm animals. Never mind that Lucas also liked another girl. I'm sure she doesn't remember the weekend that she cried because he liked Rachel better. Somehow their relationship has not passed the test of time. In second grade, I got a phone call from a first grade boy's mother begging me to stop Rebecca from hugging her son. He was getting picked on at the playground. I couldn't look her in the eye when I saw this mom again. I think they left the school. (I may be making that up.) For years, she was going to adopt eighteen Chinese children, and I was going to help take care of them. Now she gives me a look when I remind her of this. Have I mentioned that she used to lick the car tires?
The girl can giggle too. In fact, her dad often quips, "The hyenas called- they want their laugh back." When she and I get rolling, there is no stopping us. Apparently, I'm never going to grow up, and she shows no sign of it either.
Home improvements in my house will never be televised on network tv. John was working on some project in our house in Maryland, using the colorful language that is required for home improvement work. Little Miss Becky was a quick study. She dropped something while sitting in her car seat and said loudly "Tom Gammit" with the proper tone and heat. This still makes me laugh (mostly because you'd have to know the story to really know what she meant.) When we moved to this house, I spent a lot of summers painting the outside (it used to be rust and green-gag!). One day I'm on the ladder and Becky came storming outside to ask, "Mommy, can I listen to you?" I nearly fell off the ladder laughing. I'd been wondering that for years.
Then there was the day she came home from Kindergarten testing to say she didn't want to be "Becky" anymore, she wanted to be called "Rebecca". Turns out she'd rather write 7 letters than learn to write a "k". Yes, do note that our last name starts with a "K". She never has been one for confronting a challenge. Once we went to Penns Cave (see it by boat) and she couldn't walk down to the cave entrance because she was "afraid from the lion".
It also seems likely that this one is my clone. I used to call my mother complaining about some irritating thing Rebecca had said or done, and my mom would just laugh. I fully anticipate returning the favor when Rebecca has her family. In her young days, we were guaranteed to make an epic scene. There were many times when we were banned or glared out of playgroups and activities. So all the embarrassment I cause her now is total payback.
I could write a book about her sleeping habits. When she was baby, nighttime was not the right time for sleeping. She did not approve. One night I discovered that she found stenciling entertaining. So in the middle of the night, I'd be standing on a ladder in her room painting those cute little balloons around her room. Naptime? Not so much. We would have world war III getting a nap in (for me- I had stuff to do). There were many days when I'd lay down with her at 1pm or so and the rugrat wouldn't actually stop moving long enough to go to sleep until 4pm. No, I didn't decide to give up, but I was certainly wound up by the time she got to sleep. I can't tell you how many times I drove around to put her to sleep. And she liked riding the top of the dryer too. I was one tense first-time mother. She didn't help. She was kind enough to finally sleep through the night when she turned 4- when her sister was born. Thanks. She's still not fond of sleeping- especially on the weekends.
She has had some wacko ideas too. My little drama queen made special friends easily. Whenever we'd have to leave the playground, she would wail "I'll never see her again! She's my best friend!" I'd ask, "What's her name?". She'd yodel back, "I have no idea!" Then there was the preschool love triangle. She was going to marry Lucas K and be a farmer's wife. Never mind that Lucas has terrible allergies, and Rebecca has bad relationships with farm animals. Never mind that Lucas also liked another girl. I'm sure she doesn't remember the weekend that she cried because he liked Rachel better. Somehow their relationship has not passed the test of time. In second grade, I got a phone call from a first grade boy's mother begging me to stop Rebecca from hugging her son. He was getting picked on at the playground. I couldn't look her in the eye when I saw this mom again. I think they left the school. (I may be making that up.) For years, she was going to adopt eighteen Chinese children, and I was going to help take care of them. Now she gives me a look when I remind her of this. Have I mentioned that she used to lick the car tires?
The girl can giggle too. In fact, her dad often quips, "The hyenas called- they want their laugh back." When she and I get rolling, there is no stopping us. Apparently, I'm never going to grow up, and she shows no sign of it either.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Katie Alert
Today is the tenth birthday of my number 2 spawn. This child has made my life more interesting since the day she was born. She makes me either laugh or want to rip my hair out every minute that she is awake.
Katie's mispronunciations have always amused me. For dinner tonight, we had her favorite food, which she used to call "bazanya". She used to call breakfast, "brecksticks" and I swear it still has a tinge of this old word when she says it now. She counted "Zeeps" on road trips. Endlessly amusing to me is her habit of calling John's mom and dad, grandpa and grandpa.
As a baby, Katie was either entertained by the big sister or crying. We had a little song we sang, "oh, oh, Katie's crying" (sung to Janie's Crying). Katie was also very fond of piano. When Daddy was doing the ordeal of putting Rebecca to bed (and may I interject here that Rebecca didn't sleep through the night until her sister was born?), I would play the piano. It never put Katie to sleep and probably kept Rebecca awake longer, but it was more entertaining for me that listening to Katie cry.
When Katie was a toddler, we had an early alarm system. Rebecca would say "Katie alert" when Katie was headed for trouble (probably following the older sister.) One day, Katie was headed up the stairs to the deck and announced her own "Katie alert". This was probably seconds before the older sister tied her up in a chain. Yikes! At every one of her well-child visits for the first couple years, the pediatrician warned that the biggest threat to Katie's safety was her sister. No joke.
For her 3rd Christmas, Katie required a hat. She was dancing around the living room- encouraged by her older sister- and crashed headfirst into the coffee table. Emergency room trip number one resulting in stitches in her forehead and a little striped bear that she still cherishes and dresses up. Then for kicks, she cut off her bangs down to her forehead. I wondered at the time how her 7 year old sister didn't notice that 1) there were scissors in the playroom and 2) that Katie had them and was chopping hair. But fine, the hat that matched her dress was cute, the stitches healed, the hair grew.
To say that Katie is rough, would be an understatement. She puts the "tough" in "tough love". A favorite pastime of days gone by is "Climb every Mommy" (reference to Sound of Music). A hug that doesn't involve glasses knocked askew or an elbow to the head, is just sub-standard. A common phrase heard in my house? "And a blow to the head." The child has more elbows than normal and a couple extra knees as well. She has yet to figure out that my feet are ALWAYS found at the end of my legs- either that or she enjoys toes squishing. And those AREN'T handles!! And why hug someone when you can tackle them?
Katie is moodier than a teenager. God help me when she actually is a teenager. I'll be leaving home. One minute I am the best mother on the planet. The next I am lower than dirt. One day, I'm out of my mind for suggesting she could stay up late to watch a movie. The next day (today, in fact), this suggestion is perfectly acceptable. And holy cow, if I don't do the thing she thinks I said I would do- wowza! One day a few weeks ago, she thought I promised to pick her up from school with her drum. I did not. Well, the next day, every person I saw at school had to tell me about the saga of this poor, unfortunate child waiting for me- and the beautiful fit she had.
Katie brings out the grown-up in her mother. Church is probably not her best thing. (Katie is not an asset to the abbey.) So when I'm brave (read stupid) enough to take her, it requires a little distraction. We write notes or exchange pictures. Her dad is not so patient with her, so I usually have to separate them. :) And I almost always sit in the balcony so fewer people can witness. Well, a few weeks ago, Rebecca was singing in choir and I let John pick the spot- so we were at the front of the church. Unfortunately, I was not an asset to the abbey that day and proceeded to write silly stuff to Katie and giggle more than she did. (Rebecca was mortified- all to the good, in my opinion.)
Best thing on earth? A hug from my Katie girl. I may not survive it, but what a way to go.
Katie's mispronunciations have always amused me. For dinner tonight, we had her favorite food, which she used to call "bazanya". She used to call breakfast, "brecksticks" and I swear it still has a tinge of this old word when she says it now. She counted "Zeeps" on road trips. Endlessly amusing to me is her habit of calling John's mom and dad, grandpa and grandpa.
As a baby, Katie was either entertained by the big sister or crying. We had a little song we sang, "oh, oh, Katie's crying" (sung to Janie's Crying). Katie was also very fond of piano. When Daddy was doing the ordeal of putting Rebecca to bed (and may I interject here that Rebecca didn't sleep through the night until her sister was born?), I would play the piano. It never put Katie to sleep and probably kept Rebecca awake longer, but it was more entertaining for me that listening to Katie cry.
When Katie was a toddler, we had an early alarm system. Rebecca would say "Katie alert" when Katie was headed for trouble (probably following the older sister.) One day, Katie was headed up the stairs to the deck and announced her own "Katie alert". This was probably seconds before the older sister tied her up in a chain. Yikes! At every one of her well-child visits for the first couple years, the pediatrician warned that the biggest threat to Katie's safety was her sister. No joke.
For her 3rd Christmas, Katie required a hat. She was dancing around the living room- encouraged by her older sister- and crashed headfirst into the coffee table. Emergency room trip number one resulting in stitches in her forehead and a little striped bear that she still cherishes and dresses up. Then for kicks, she cut off her bangs down to her forehead. I wondered at the time how her 7 year old sister didn't notice that 1) there were scissors in the playroom and 2) that Katie had them and was chopping hair. But fine, the hat that matched her dress was cute, the stitches healed, the hair grew.
To say that Katie is rough, would be an understatement. She puts the "tough" in "tough love". A favorite pastime of days gone by is "Climb every Mommy" (reference to Sound of Music). A hug that doesn't involve glasses knocked askew or an elbow to the head, is just sub-standard. A common phrase heard in my house? "And a blow to the head." The child has more elbows than normal and a couple extra knees as well. She has yet to figure out that my feet are ALWAYS found at the end of my legs- either that or she enjoys toes squishing. And those AREN'T handles!! And why hug someone when you can tackle them?
Katie is moodier than a teenager. God help me when she actually is a teenager. I'll be leaving home. One minute I am the best mother on the planet. The next I am lower than dirt. One day, I'm out of my mind for suggesting she could stay up late to watch a movie. The next day (today, in fact), this suggestion is perfectly acceptable. And holy cow, if I don't do the thing she thinks I said I would do- wowza! One day a few weeks ago, she thought I promised to pick her up from school with her drum. I did not. Well, the next day, every person I saw at school had to tell me about the saga of this poor, unfortunate child waiting for me- and the beautiful fit she had.
Katie brings out the grown-up in her mother. Church is probably not her best thing. (Katie is not an asset to the abbey.) So when I'm brave (read stupid) enough to take her, it requires a little distraction. We write notes or exchange pictures. Her dad is not so patient with her, so I usually have to separate them. :) And I almost always sit in the balcony so fewer people can witness. Well, a few weeks ago, Rebecca was singing in choir and I let John pick the spot- so we were at the front of the church. Unfortunately, I was not an asset to the abbey that day and proceeded to write silly stuff to Katie and giggle more than she did. (Rebecca was mortified- all to the good, in my opinion.)
Best thing on earth? A hug from my Katie girl. I may not survive it, but what a way to go.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)