All By Myself

This was to be a week alone for me. Hillary was off to Girls State, and Yancey and Parker went to church camp. And, as they love me dearly, they were a little concerned. It seemed to dawn on Hillary the day before she left that I would be at home all day, every day for a week, all by myself. She looked at me with wide eyes and said in a breathy voice..."What will you DO?"
My answer..."Whatever I want!"
But she was still worried. "Sounds lonely to me," she said.
Never fear, I had plans.
My dreams were filled with lazy days in the hammock, cold drink and a good book in hand...no worries hanging over my head with the laundry caught up and the house cleaned.
And then I woke up.
Here are a few of the things I actually did this week:
Handled small crisis with daughter via text in middle of the night.
Handled small crisis with husband via text in the middle of the night.
Called bug people to come spray house for spiders who suddenly seemed to be everywhere.
Drove un-air conditioned car an hour away to the city for repair...waited for the shop to give me the loaner car which they had somehow misplaced...sat in Enterprise Rent-a-car lobby for an hour while they tried to find a car for me...(this all counts as one thing, right?).
Got my hair cut and colored.
Cleaned two bathrooms, one kitchen cabinet, and one closet.
Untangled a mistake with my employer and bank when (through no fault of my own) my paycheck was accidentally withdrawn from my account instead of deposited making me appear overdrawn.
Drove back to the city, picked up my own car, and flew back in time for bible study.
Cleaned up dog poop 3 different times.

Oh, and in the meantime, I managed to host a parenting group at my house, read one good book, and have lunch with a friend.

Don't worry, Hillary. There was no time to be lonely.

My family starts to trickle home today. I am looking forward to seeing them. As busy as I was having FUN, I still missed them.
After all, alone time is overrated!

With a Twist

Recently we spent a "Six Flags Day" with some loved family members. I have to admit, I was not looking very forward to it. Theme parks are hot, noisy, and suck money right out of your pocket when you aren't looking. Not to mention that Parker has always hated roller coasters and ends up spending the day sitting and holding our bags while I have to ride with Hillary on every neck popping, hair raising ride they have.
But not this year.
This year he decided for himself that he was going to "conquer his fear" and ride the roller coasters. We started off nice and easy with the Screaming Eagle. He and I climbed into the seats and pulled the bar down snugly. He gave a nervous smile...and off we went. I screamed...he grunted. I held onto my head with both hands so it wouldn't get whipped off in the turns...he laughed. Before I knew it, he was whooping and throwing his hands up in the air, enjoying the ride of his life! And that's all it took. Now I had the priviledge of sitting and holding the bags while Hillary and Parker ran from ride to ride, laughing and gesturing and exclaiming to one another.
I couldn't help thinking back to when he was younger and we (being the wise parents we are) tried to force him to face his fears. We made him ride a water slide ride that all of us could do together. We promised him it would be fun. We tried to convince him it would be fine. We finally forced him...and it was neither fun nor fine. At the top of the slide he buried his head in my side. As we began the descent, he started to scream and cry. I spent the whole 5 seconds the ride lasted praying for God to not let this scar my child and feeling sorry that I'd betrayed Parker's sensitive feelings. Why was it so important to us that he ride scary things? How would it matter if he went his whole life being the person who was scared of roller coasters? It didn't seem to matter to him if he was teased by his sister and his friends about being afraid. He would rather be true to himself than pretend he was having fun when he was not. Isn't that a good quality in itself?
But now, here he was, inches taller, pounds heavier, years older...riding those same scary rides with screams of joy instead of terror. And the only REAL difference was he had decided to do it for himself. Our poking and prodding never changed a thing. When he was ready, he did it.
Just one more up in a series of ups and downs...one more twist in this roller coaster that is parenting.

Trial Flight 101

My daughter is a senior. Sigh. I'm thinkin all those thoughts about time running short and where and what she'll be when she "grows up". My little bird will soon fly the nest.

So what better way to stretch her wings than a trip to Washington DC with an educational group and responsible adult chaperones...but no one that she actually knows. Months ago she wrote an essay and was chosen by the Crawford County Electric CoOp to participate in this trip of a lifetime. I helped her pack her bags, double checked her itinerary, asked her a million times if she had her phone...and then handed her over to people I'd never met and watched her drive away.

I could still see the van's taillights when I texted her..."You having fun yet? ha." And of course she was. Everyone was "really fun" and everything was "amazing." And then I promised myself no more texts...let her enjoy herself and have her own time.

The next day they boarded a plane for Baltimore. Her first time on an airplane. I was anxious. I was jealous. I was proud and excited. Would she love flying as much as I do? Would she get sick? What if she did? Who would hold her puke bag and rub her back?

And then I got this text, "We're in baltimore!:) (the "good morning baltimore" song from hairspray comes to mind) and i LOVE flying! I got a window seat (i have such good friends);) wish you were here!"

Through the miracle of texting, we watched her as she joyfully flew through the week...seeing monuments...meeting new people...and dancing the night away on a Potomac cruise. I didn't have to contact her, she was happy to contact us...sharing her experiences with unfettered enthusiasm and not seeming in the least "caged."

I stood at my window this morning (the day Hillary comes home) and watched the little wren and her family who have built a nest in our eaves. All spring she has been bringing bugs and worms in and taking waste and old feathers out while she waits for her babies to be ready to fly. And now, they are all outside of the nest...hanging on to the wooden post and porch screen with their tiny clawed feet...Mama Wren chirping encouragement. And with a flash of feathers and an awkward zig-zaggy arc they make it safely to the ground where they will hop around and make little trial flights until they are flitting about as effortlessly as their mama. I know how you feel, Mama Wren.

Fly, little bird...fly! But know that you'll always have a feather in my nest.

What Teen Boys Are Made Of...

Long, long legs

and

empty cereal bags...

At least that's what mine is made of!

Same Difference

Parker walked into the living room, swinging an almost empty bread sack, and asking, "Mom, do you want me to save this or just throw it away?"
"Why would you throw it away?"
"Cause all that's left is the feet." he replied with a totally straight face.
Hillary cracked up. Of course he meant the "heels" but when this was pointed out to him he said, "Feet...heels...same difference."
The night before, we had been working on a crossword puzzle as a group, shouting out clues and twisting the paper this way and that so we could take turns seeing the squares. Parker was making tea in the kitchen. Someone shouted out a clue and Parker guessed "can?"..."No, it ends with an 'e'" was the reply. Parker shrugged and said, "Same difference."
Again, laughter, because obviously, it is NOT the same difference. But to Parker's dyslexic brain, it is. What I love about him is that he seems to enjoy the humor we get out of his verbal snafoos. He doesn't seem to see it as a flaw in himself, but as a funny acceptable part of who he is. As a chronic worrier about my children's feelings, I tend to try to hold it in when he makes funny word mistakes...and then I scrutinize his face for clues that the others are hurting his feelings. But he just smiles and gets this look like, "Yeah, I make people laugh. What can YOU do?"
Dyslexic...genius...Parker...
Same difference to me.