All That Jazz!

We went to see Hillary perform with her college Jazz Band tonight.
We had dinner in a corner booth with paintings of guys and dolls from the jazz era looking down on us.  The food was excellent and the company was sweet.
Then we moved downstairs, past a huge picture of Al Capone, to The Cellar, where we listened to Hillary's boyfriend and other talented musicians improv their hearts out.  Hillary and the rest of the choir wove harmonies and showed off their "scat" skills.

Hillary sang a solo, and I was struck, as always, by her confidence.  She knew every syllable by heart and entertained us with her gestures and expressions.  I leaned over to my friend sitting beside me (who also happens to be Hillary's old high school choir teacher) and said, "Man, that girl must have had a really good Choir Teacher!"  She just smiled.  But we both know she had much to do with who Hillary is today.

It was a good night, filled with food, music, my favorite Guys and Dolls...

and all that Jazz!

Baby Steps

A few weeks ago, as I was picking up laundry in Parker's room, I noticed a little bulge sticking out of a side pocket of his school bag.  I reached in and pulled out a tiny rubber fetus.  It was very life-like.  And very disconcerting.  I headed downstairs.
"Why is there a rubber fetus in your school bag?"
He looked up from his video game.
"Oh, that's from my Child Development class.  We all got one."
"What are you supposed to do with it?" I wondered aloud.
"Nothing. It's just for us to see.  It's actual size of a 20 week old."
Ok. Educational.  I guess. I had previously considered giving Parker something else small and made of Rubber designed to prevent pregnancy...but this could work too.
Then yesterday he came home toting a car seat with a 9 pound baby doll inside, complete with 2 diapers, a bottle, and a wristband for Parker so the computer chip could record how well he cared for Baby.
For the first 15 minutes, I was pretty impressed.
Parker was attentive, patient, and exceptionally gentle with Eve.  (He picked the name when he thought he was getting a girl...turns out he got a son with a girl's name. It happens.)

But soon, Little Eve began making unhappy noises.  A diaper change (which was way too non-messy to be realistic in my opinion) and all was quiet again.  Parker and son came downstairs to watch tv.
And then the real fun started.
Waaah waaaaaah!  He tried the bottle.
Waah waaaah!  He tried rocking.
By this point I was ready to send him and his homework to his bedroom.  That baby was cutting into my tv time.
He tried feeding. (Yes, he is watching tv.)

He tried burping.

He tried another diaper change.  

But eventually, he ended up doing what all exhausted new parents do....

he propped.

"Man," he exclaimed, "This was so much easier at the track meet when Lena was helping me.  She knew just what to do!"

"Which is why God intended babies to have TWO parents!" I quipped.

Fortunately, this was only a 24 hour assignment.  Eve went back to the foster home classroom this morning.  Parker got an 85%.  Apparently he missed a feeding, a burping, and a head support.

If only we could all be such competent parents.  Thank God there was no computer chip recording me when my babies were born!

Someday Parker will be a wonderful father (and hopefully, husband).  For now, I'm just glad he doesn't even have a pet goldfish.  It's a long life.  Let's take baby steps.

Field Events

"Parker wants you."
How many times through the years have I heard those words... From the church nursery when he was a toddler...from his sister when he was trying to prolong bedtime by asking for a drink...from his teammate when he just wanted me to hold his stuff during a game.
But this time the words weren't for me.
They were for his dad.
We were sitting at a track meet watching a multitude of colored jerseys milling around the track and field.  Parker was getting ready to high jump.  Most parents/spectators are required to stay in the bleachers, but Hubby strolled (like the Coach he is) right across the track lanes and onto the inner field.  I watched his broad back and his signature bright yellow hat as he stood around talking and listening to Parker and his co-competitors.  They gestured with their arms and lifted their knees and looked in deep discussion about form.  Hubby stayed put as Parker jumped...knocked the bar down...waited...jumped...made it...waited...jumped again. 
And I watched from the hill. 
It was like seeing invisible pieces of life suddenly fit together just the way they were supposed to. 
Because this father/son camraderie is new.
It's not that we've had any real "problems".  But like most animal species, there comes a time between young male and alpha male when heads butt and everything seems to be a challenge for personal honor.  For the last couple of years, I could ask Parker to scrub the toilet and he would reluctantly, but willingly go do it.  But Hubby could ask him to mow the yard and I feared for the carpet due to the sparks of fire coming out of Parker's eyes.  Homework help from Dad was impossible no matter how patiently Hubby thought he was explaining.  And even though Hubby is the Head Coach for girls basketball (and has been quite successful) Parker would stare straight ahead when Dad yelled helpful hints from the bleachers and say when we got home from the game "You are not my coach.  I only do what my coach tells me."
Hubby couldn't understand why Parker wasn't as "driven" as Hubby imagined himself to be at that age.  And I think he sometimes wondered how he had sired a son so different from himself.  

I stood between the two, seeing both sides and trying to nudge each closer to the other. 

But recently there have been signs of something new.  Parker chose his dad's old basketball number for his jersey. He rooted for Indiana in the Final Four because "well, Dad likes them...".  And he invited Hubby out onto his territory to watch him jump...close enough to offer encouragement and maybe a little critique.  And as Parker has opened up, Hubby has eagerly stepped in.  Whatever needed to be proven has been, and they are not only enjoying each other, but forging a special bond that only a Father and Son can know.  

So, when it was time for the last race to begin, and Parker asked his Dad to go to the "back stretch" because "I struggle with that section", I didn't feel left out.  I smiled from my lawn chair and watched my Boys with pride.  

Out of all the events happening on the field that day, watching their relationship deepen was my favorite. 

Good Friday

The calendar said "Good Friday"...

And I have to agree!