Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Ring! It's the Monkeys on the Bananaphone!

When my boys--all 3 of them--went away last weekend, I had the house all to myself for several days. It's possible that in the week leading up to their departure, I might have been seen dancing around jubilantly, doing a little cheer (A-L...O-N-E, that's the way I'm going to be.....yay, me! something like that). I think my friends and family would call me a sociable person in general...but I have a pretty wide "loner streak" tucked deep down inside, that I just don't get to indulge very much. I get totally recharged by not having to make conversation, or entertain anyone, or answer questions for a while.

My oldest son seems to be similar to me--he enjoys interacting with people, but can also hide out in his room and read for long periods of time, content to be by himself. My younger son is...a nonstop chattering whirlwind of words. If he's not narrating what he's doing at the moment, he's asking for your input on something, or talking through an issue out loud, or blurting out whatever's on his mind (hmmm...he gets that from Husband!)

So when the phone rang while Husband and Sons were in SC, I should have known who it would be. "Hi, Mommy, it's Riley. I called to tell you we're going to stay up late watching the Penn State game on TV. Are we allowed to do that?" (um, you're on Daddy's watch, ask him!) After he provided a nice little recap of his day for me, we said goodnight and hung up. Not 15 minutes later, the phone rang again. "I forgot to tell you what we had for dinner. We had shrimp. I ate a lot, but not as much as Derek. And we had cookies-and-cream ice cream." Without boring you with any further details, suffice it to say there were TWO more phone calls before he was captured and cut off from the phone lines (apparently we're on Speed Dial, and some foolish person--grandmother--told him that little secret).

Don't get me wrong, it was nice to hear the details of his busy and exciting vacation. (I especially enjoyed it when he felt the need to share how much he weighed on their bathroom scale, after his enormous dinner and dessert.) I actually hope that this openness and honesty is a lasting part of Riley's personality, so that one day, when he's more into cars and girls and hanging out with his friends than chatting with his mom, he still tells me what's going on! But if he called one more time during my "peace and quiet time", I was handing the receiver to the cat!

Friday, September 25, 2009

"In My Mind I'm Goin' to Carolina"

No, no, no, that's not it: it's my family that's disappearing to (South) Carolina this weekend. As much as I cherish my boys, I absolutely pine for their annual "visit the grandparents" getaway. A friend asked me what my Big Plans were, how I was going to amuse myself while they were gone. I automatically opened my mouth to start telling her...and realized I had neglected to make any!

But after some serious reflection, I am certain of what I will NOT be doing: (pause for happy dance...okay, continue)
*scraping sparkly blue bubblegum flavored toothpaste out of my sons' sink (every goshdarn morning...and evening...grr);
*stain-treating and washing muddy soccer shinguards and baseball pants;
*tripping over and picking up (over...and over...and over...you get the picture) Matchbox cars and action figures and Tech Deck skateboards, ETC.;
*popping out to the grocery store for "just a few things we're out of" and coming back an hour later having spent $90...then trying to dream up and prepare an appetizing, wholesome meal that pleases 2 carnivores, a carbivore, and a vegetarian.

So then, what pleasures does that leave for my weekend of freedom and indulgence?
*to start with, 72+ hours alone in the house, enveloped in sweet silence (except me thinking out loud to myself...and the cat meowing for attention...okay, it's mostly quiet);
*7 hours of television premieres on the DVR, awaiting my perusal;
*lots of takeout food, whatever kind I want, whenever I want. And no sharing!
*brownie mix--that's right, straight from the bowl. Maybe the brownies will eventually make it into the oven, or maybe they won't. No one's here to stop me!

I know, I know, it sound like just too much fun and excitement for one girl to take. It'll be tough, but I'm going to give it my best effort...here goes: Ready, Set, RELAX (so far so good...)

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Just Be-Tween You and Me

I used to scoff at the term "tween" (which didn't even exist in my youth, yet my peers and I still managed to mature into normal, well-adjusted adults, right?). It seemed crystal clear to me that there were distinct phases in the process of growing up: childhood, punctuated by the onset of puberty, gradually sliding into adolescence. Then I had children. And suddenly, 9-year old Derek is a poster child for tween-ness (tweenhood? tweenescence? tweenies? oh, nevermind.)

Sometimes he clings--unconsciously, I think--to the safety and comfort of childhood, like when he asks to be tucked into bed every night. He likes me to keep him company when he does his homework. He freely hugs me, and allows me to hug him, EVEN at the bus stop (for now). He mostly still calls me Mommy (because he doesn't realize he's doing it yet--so shhh!)

But impending doom--I mean adolescence--sneaks up at times, making brief but startling appearances. Like when he announced, in response to my query about what he wanted to be for Halloween this year, that he "didn't really want to do that anymore." Excuse me, WHAT? He went on to explain that he just doesn't want to dress up, and doesn't really care about the candy he can't eat anyway (because of his braces). I swear he sounded about 15. (In contrast, 6-year old Riley piped up with "maybe I won't dress up either, but I'll walk around and trick-or-treat!" To which Derek laughingly replied "that's not really Halloween, that's just begging for candy!")

Then there's the Major Deodorant Controversy, for which I will state right now: I blame their father. You see, Derek has, in just the last few months, begun exuding a certain odor after being outside and running around for hours. Not BO, per se, since he doesn't actually smell like sweat. To my nose, it's more like a wet-dog kind of smell. And it's not overwhelming, probably not even noticeable to outsiders or to Derek himself...that is until Husband started making a HUGE deal out of it every night. Waving his hand in front of his face, wrinkling his nose, declaring how much Derek's "pits reek" (and he still has the nerve to call ME dramatic?). I swear he gave the poor boy a complex.

So Derek began bugging me for deodorant. Uh-uh. No way am I buying my 9-year old Right Guard. I offered him talcum powder, but he looked horrified at the idea of smelling like a baby's bottom. (I can't imagine why; I TOLD him everyone digs the fresh baby smell. Somehow this did not have the desired effect...) So off to Roots Market I went, in search of something acceptably organic to sprinkle on my 4th grader. And would you believe they sell a product, specifically for the male underarm area, called Pit Stop? ("the sweat without the stink" I did not make that up.) It's a baking-soda-based powder in a manly-colored cylinder, with a (presumably fresh-scented) mountain-biking guy on the front. This was acceptable to Derek.

This could have been the happy conclusion to the saga, with everyone involved feeling pleased and satisfied...however, I happened to let slip that while reading the labels at the store, I noticed the difference between the mens' and ladies' versions was the particular fragrance used: for women, gardenia; for men, patchouli. So now my husband makes a point of mentioning how Derek "smells like a patchouli" whenever he enters a room (and no, NO ONE knows what that means). Sigh. I'm already outnumbered so what's one more adolescent boy in the house?

Friday, September 18, 2009

More Random Ramblings...

You know how Computer Professionals advise you to schedule certain maintenance tasks on your machine in order to "optimize performance"? (and we all do this faithfully, right? of course! immediately after it crashes!) Anyway, this week my brain definitely feels clogged and sluggish, so to avoid my own personal Blue Screen of Death, consider this my routine "disk cleanup and defrag":

*let's start with a little rant: at the community college where I work, I am frequently astounded by what some girls try to pass off as "being dressed". I realize it's not high school, and you're not going to get sent home by the principal, but honestly, a long hooded sweatshirt that completely covers your tiny little shorts just makes you look...like you forgot your pants. Is that really what you want to say to the world? I enjoy being half-naked in public?

*I have to admit, though, that I got a private snicker out of one girl's t-shirt that said "You can't be ugly AND stupid. You have to pick one." Appropriate? Eh. Funny? Yep.

*Husband was reading an alphabet story to Riley and one page says: "They viewed V, veiled in velvet." Husband said, "that's fun to say!" Riley seriously replied, "Yes, Daddy, it's alliteration." Because you NEED to know that in first grade, apparently.

*After his Little League pitching debut last weekend, Derek was totally pumped about having struck out 2 batters. Still adrenalized in the car on the way home, he switched to ESPN mode and analyzed his performance: "I saw that kid bat last Fall, and I remembered that he swung at high pitches, so I decided to try to throw him some." (at this point I couldn't respond, since my mouth was hanging open, but he didn't notice.) He continued, "I'm not like C.C. Sabathia on the mound, just throwing whatever; I'm like Greg Maddux, I think when I pitch!" (I apologize to non-baseball people, to whom this means nothing at all...the rest of you who get it, can I get an AMEN for the Baseball Gods!)

*And finally, a household revelation. I'm allergic to dust; ironically, it seems harmless enough when it's just lying on the furniture, but when I try to actually REMOVE it, I sneeze and tear up and get stuffy. Instead, this week's Toxic Cleaning Task was to attack my shower with bleach in an attempt to eradicate...some icky stuff on the walls. During the scrubbing, I could feel my throat and lungs burning; afterwards, I couldn't breathe for the rest of the night. Conclusion: it is inadvisable for me to perform household chores (or I guess I could wear a mask. or make natural cleaners instead. nope, we'll stick with the first option!)

Whew, I feel much better after that Brain Dump. Maybe with all the space that's now available in there I can think of what to make for dinner. What's that? It's Friday? Okay, pizza it is! See, the old noodle must be working better already!

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

My, how they've grown!


The top row is Derek at age 1, age 2, and age 9. The bottom row is Riley at age 1, age 3, and age 6.
You can click on the center of the collage to enlarge it if you want to see the differences!
Posted by Picasa

Monday, September 14, 2009

Life is a Highway...

Every morning, after I've downed my heavily-sugared, nonfat-creamered, enormous mug of coffee, I strap on my seatbelt and pull out onto what I like to call the Mommy Turnpike. As the family's "driver", I try to obey the speed limit (unless we're late for soccer practice), and pay all the tolls (field trip money, anyone?), but sometimes, out of the blue, there's something in the road that I just didn't notice until I run over it (don't worry, it's still a metaphor!)

For instance, my children suddenly decided this week to show me that they're not little boys anymore. It started with Derek, who at age 9 apparently just realized he's supposed to be asserting his independence. "Mom, I want to ride my bike to the playground with my friends," he informed me in a calm and reasonable voice. My autopilot mom-response was a resounding NO WAY, but as I opened my mouth to respond, I really couldn't think of a good excuse for the veto. He knows how to look for cars; he's cautious and responsible; the park in question is literally right around the corner...so in the end I said yes, then stood forlornly watching him get smaller as he rode down to the end of the street and disappeared (and I hovered nervously near the window until I saw him pedaling safely back).

Then there was Riley, my "baby" (who by the way objects when I call him that anymore. I can't get away with anything these days!)...just yesterday, I swear, he was a chubby, round-cheeked toddler stretched out on the floor surrounded by his Thomas the Tank Engine trains, making up endless stories as he drove them around for hours. Somehow I thought he would stay this way forever, since he wasn't obsessed with sports like his older brother. But then in June he announced that he wanted to play soccer this fall. "Sure," I thought, "we'll see if he remembers that for a week, much less three months." In fact, he did not change his mind, as I half-expected, and he played his first game last weekend. Wearing his cleats, shinguards, and team shirt, he looked unexpectedly...tall...and thin (with a fierce game face--who knew?)

So I can't imagine how I missed all of this occurring right under my nose. Surely there ought to be informative billboards in life, just like on the side of the road, warning us when such changes are coming! Well, I've learned my lesson; from now on, I'm going to stop changing the radio stations, put away the cellphone, and keep both eyes on the Parenting Highway!

Friday, September 11, 2009

(It is SO NOT) elementary, my dears!

The past two days have been just one big school flashback for me. It started last night with Back to School night, where I got to sit in (hard!) tiny little chairs and learn about what my boys will study this year.

In 1st grade, Riley will: identify and describe attributes of 2D and 3D figures; use the writing process (prewriting, first draft, revising, editing, publishing); investigate the effects of forces, motion, and equilibrium; understand the role of human, capital, and natural resources in the production of goods and services...and these were just my favorites, among the lengthy list of mind-boggling topics. I only hope his teacher has time to instruct the 6 year-olds in what I recall as "the basics" of classroom behavior: no poking fellow students with pencils, or eating the crayons, or throwing gluesticks.

Then it was on to 4th grade. The teacher showed us the terrariums that our kids have already constructed in order to study ecosystems. (Soon they will add grasshoppers, snails, and pillbugs!) We heard about Literature Circles, which operate as a kind of "book club", complete with critical discussion led by the students themselves. In addition, 9-year old Derek will be expected to: select and independently read at least 25 grade-level appropriate books; develop a research question based on a selected topic and use two or more resources to locate information; identify transformations in tessellations (wait, what? did they make that up? seriously, what does that even mean?); understand social, economic, and political characteristics of Western Europe and West Africa in the 15th century...among many, many other shockingly sophisticated subjects.

I have a feeling we are ALL going to get a lot smarter this year (or die trying)! But for now, may I be excused, my brain is tired!

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

(cue swelling music) See youuuu in Septembrrrr!

What's that you say? It's already September? Are you sure? And can someone puh-leaze tell me just how the heck that happened?

I suppose I knew something was up when I had to wear long pants the other day...and socks....and closed shoes (I didn't want to, but it was either that, or shiver through my work day). Oh yeah, work should have been my first clue: the college semester started, and the kids' school year as well. But I still don't understand where August went. One minute we were wiping our brows, drinking lemonade and begging for a breeze, then the next thing you know the leaves were starting to drift off the tree outside Derek's window at a positively alarming rate (stupid overachieving cherry tree can't wait to get naked every year.)

Well, that's just too darn bad! I'm not at all ready for raking! And you can also forget other onerous Autumn Tasks like: filling out school forms, and checking homework calendars, and attending Back to School night, and packing lunches...oh, crud...those things are in my Mom Job Description, aren't they? Oh, alright then! But what's in it for me, if I agree to move past Fall Denial and accept the season of morning chills, falling leaves, and early sunsets? Hmmm, Pumpkin Muffin, you say? With cream cheese icing? Ahhh, those are magic words. Throw in a pumpkin-spice latte on a frosty September morning, and I'm sold!

Friday, September 4, 2009

Stream of Consciousness (bring your own paddle)!

Somehow I wasn't paying attention, but I published my 100th post on August 25th. When television shows reach that milestone, they have big parties, or hour-long episodes with special guest stars...I had my laptop, and some iced tea, and maybe there was a cookie thrown in there. Oh well, I'll do a big dramatic shebang for my 200th!

And then there's an Anniversary: September 5th marks exactly one year since I started this Blog. I wanted to write something insightful and intelligent to commemorate the occasion...but my mind is a blank. Excellent time for writer's block!

So, in the time-honored tradition of cheaters everywhere, instead of researching something meaningful or delving deep into my thoughts for material, I'm going to do a cheesy compilation of random things that occurred this week:

*Derek started 4th grade, Riley started 1st grade, and for the first time, I had to request goodbye hugs on the first day. I was denied by the 9-year old, but the 6-year old allowed me a brief one-armed squeeze. On Friday, the fifth day of the school year, I got my first call from the Health Room Technician to report that Derek had collided with another boy at recess, sustaining a cut lip. This is a new Family Record for earliest playground injury.

*I began my semester as a Sign Language Interpreter at the local community college. This Fall, I get to translate Ceramics, Reading, and Psychology. This week I had the distinct pleasure of explaining Freud to a Deaf student, using American Sign Language. Id, Ego, Superego--the man's still a fruit loop in any language.

*I'm off on Fridays this semester, so I ventured out shopping. First stop: Sephora. Now, I don't consider myself an old fogey just yet, but let me tell you how LOUDDDD the music was in that store. The clerks might have been welcoming me; I saw their mouths moving, but couldn't hear a word. Or they could have been telling me off, for all I know. While I was there, I managed to purchase what I came for: Green Rootine dry shampoo. Because nothing demonstrates your love for yourself and your fellow human beings quite like a product that lets you NOT take a shower for another day.

*Then it was on to Costco, where by a delicate combination of luck and planning, I arrived at prime free sample time. Cheese + chips and salsa + juice = lunch! (Note: this still does NOT make me an old fogey! I just like to eat...early...and cheaply....uh-oh...)

And now, it's Happy Hour. Cheers, and enjoy the long weekend with lots of fun, and little labor!