Ice is Nice

Below freezing temperatures mixed with misty swirling precipitation gave us an unexpected day off school today. For a few hours, the different directions in which we've all been moving lately suddenly converged and we were home together with nothing important to do.

We slept late.

And then video games were played.

Peanut Butter and syrup was eaten straight from the jar.

Music was made.

Coffee was savored and books were finished and windows were stared out of.

And there was still time left for beds to be made and floors to be mopped and bathrooms that have been sorely neglected to sparkle again. 

Ahhh.

I'm sure tomorrow tires will find traction and the world will begin moving again.  

But for today....the ice is nice!

Grasping

I have a good life, and I know it.
But when winter comes with it's long dark nights and it's cold that seeps into my bones, I have to fight The Fall .  "Happy" things like Christmas decorations and colorful scarves and snowball fights sift through my gloved fingers without bringing me the joy others seem to revel in.
But I keep trying.
Grasping.
And I find things that feed my soul.
Little things like...a hot cup of coffee...my fireplace...Parker swinging his long legs into the car and his basketball bag over the seat into the back and asking if we can stop by sonic for a milkshake bc he KNOWS I'll say yes every time.
Things like my favorite TV show not being a re-run...my co-workers making me laugh until I cry...and a friend who never fails to answer my texts with lightning speed.
Hillary waking me up when she gets home from work, crawling in bed next to me and telling me stories about walmart and college.
Facebook.
Blogging.
And making my eternally effervescent husband chuckle because I am sitting in the dark wrapped in a blanket and taking every last second of the two minutes left before I absolutely HAVE to leave for work.
Little things...but big enough to wedge my cold fingers into like a rock climber scaling the mountainside, clinging to life.
So I count the days til Dec 21st when I get to start adding minutes of daylight again.
And I go to basketball games and teach first graders and wear layers and layers of clothing.
And I hold on to my little things.
And I remind myself that happiness is always within my grasp.

O Christmas Tree

I have never been one to get excited about Christmas decorating.  Oh, I used to fake it well enough when the kids were little and I thought I had to.  But even then, I got the bare tree up...strung it with lights...and then sat on the couch and handed ornaments to the kids, letting them willy-nilly lop-side the tree with clusters of decorations and bare open spots.
Resulting in such unique creations as this...

Yes, those are tube socks, stuck to the tree branches.  A three-year-old Parker's idea of beautiful.












And now, as the kids are older and even more involved in their own lives and sports and jobs, we found ourselves well into December with nary a decoration visible in our house.  When I finally asked Hillary, "So, how important is it to you guys to have a tree?" she looked at me in horror and said, "MOM!  You are such a scrooge!"  And her next night off was put on the calendar as "tree decorating night."
This time, I didn't even have to lug the tree out of the box.  My strong and manly son took care of that part.  And since we now have a pre-lit tree, I didn't have to do that part either.
I made coffee.
Parker, ever the man, made sure to use his pocket knife a lot.

And after the 10th time I made him freeze so I could get the perfect pic, he used it to make slashing marks toward his own throat when he thought I wasn't looking.

And he made sure to mutter and complain about exactly how much "work" Hillary was doing to contribute to this job.

I guess he had forgotten about the year Headgear Hillary put up the tree by herself while he did the Hula to the Christmas music...

But woven throughout all the eye-rolling and sections of burned out christmas lights and good natured complaining about each other, there was lots of laughter and banter and memories being made.

And in the end, no matter how the tree ends up looking...I am happy.  Because the two best gifts I've ever been given are sitting under my tree!

Tis the Season

It's December.

Basketball is in full swing.

And with a Coach on the girls' team and a Player on the boys' team when I SHOULD be doing this.....

Or this....

Or even this.....

I end up doing a whole lotta THIS....

(thanks to my friend, Sarah and her husband for taking this pic! ;)

"Tis the season to be sporty. Dribble, dribble, pass...and shoot the ball."

Well, That Was Handi...

I was trying to organize the chaos that is my teacher-desk when I got the text.
Can u come get me?
It was Parker....wanting me to take him on a Sonic run before the first game of the season.
I looked at the time.  3:05.
I have a sub for the next two days and I really need to make a few copies.
I'm not even supposed to leave work until 3:20.
My Sonic budget is low.
So I texted back...
b there in 15 min
And I left it all and got in the car, because that's what my heart does when my children call.
Twenty min later we were sitting at Sonic where Parker told me about his day between bites of double cheeseburger.  And made predictions about how the game would go around mouthfuls of onion rings.  The sun dipped low enough to shine warmly into my eyes.  We jammed to Parker's radio station.  And then, it was time to get him back to school.
I slowly backed out of the parking spot and Parker exclaimed, "Mom!"
"What?" I shot back...slamming on the brakes...expecting to hear the bump of some scooter-riding granny as I hit her with my car.
"We've been sitting in a handicap spot!"
He was incredulous.
I was embarrassed.
What must that kid who served us be thinking?  And I didn't tip him either.  And no wonder that man across the way had been staring.  He was probably trying to get my license plate so he could call the police.
I slunk down in my seat and tried to leave the parking lot inconspicuously.
Parker was still laughing as I dropped him off at the school.
And I was glad I had chosen THIS over that other stuff.  Breaking the law is so much more fun than having a clean desk.  And time with my basketball boy is always worth it...even if it IS spent in a handicap spot!

Hunk 'o Burnin Love

It was still dark when we stood in our Cousin's kitchen saying goodbyes and love-yous.  We had a 6 hour trip ahead of us, and Basketball Practice to get to by 1:00.
And as we dallied a few minutes more waiting for the defroster to work it's magic on the lacy-iced car windows, Cousin cocked his head and said to my Hubby, "Why are you wearing shorts, dude?"
He's wearing shorts because this is a man who has traveled with me before.
And he explained that no matter how hot the inside of the car may be, if he attempts to touch the thermostat, I will exclaim (and here he morphs into a voice that sounds NOTHING like me) "I feel cold air blowing on my ankles!"
This trip he was taking a proactive approach.
Which somehow didn't make it past his waistline as he had chosen a long-sleeved turtleneck for the top half of his body.
Hours later, when the sun was full up and the trip was half over, Parker rose up from the back seat where he'd been sleeping.
"Dad," he said in a groggy voice, "It's HOT in here."
Hubby just grunted.
Parker went on..."I actually thought I peed my pants, but its SWEAT!"
Hubby answered, "I know, son.  My back has been wet for hours."
I piped up from under my fuzzy blanket.  "Well, you ARE wearing a TURTLENECK for goodness sake.  Take off your shirt if you're hot."  Lord knows I would have no qualms with undressing if comfort called for it.  I have been known to ride down the interstate in nothing but my bra and panties when a too-long summer trip left me feeling bound up.
Apparently my family doesn't feel such freedom.
Parker cracked the window and stuck his fingers out.
Fortunately, it was time for a Starbucks Stop, and Hubby gladly parked the car and went in to get my mocha instead of going through the drive-through.  I bundled up and walked around the parking lot to stretch my legs while Parker stuck his bare feet out the back windows.
With a coffee to warm my hands, and Hubby's coat wrapped around my feet, I was finally able to let him turn the dial from all-red to barely-blue for the last few miles home.  
"Oh...thank God!" came a mutter from the back seat.
We made it home without anyone dehydrating, and now I'm sitting by the fire, thinking about the boys who love me.  I know I am pampered and indulged, and on this Thanksgiving weekend, I am thankful for my Hunks 'o Burning Love.

All or Something

This Thanksgiving our family experienced another "first."  The addition of a new job for Hillary meant the subtraction of one child from our family trip to visit seldom-seen loved ones.
And we all felt the jolt of life changing tracks.
Hillary sat on the couch as we prepared to leave.
"This is weird," she said.  "It's so weird for Dad not to be yelling at me to get packed.  It's weird to know I'm not going with you."
And it was weird for us too.
Weird in a stretching sort of way...you feel the pull, and it hurts, but just barely.
So off we went...Parker fully enjoying the emptiness of the backseat...Dad and Me looking forward and not back...and we ate and hugged and laughed and loved.
It would have been easy to mourn the way things used to be.
But to be sad would have been to pile guilt on Hillary and steal joy from Parker.
Instead, I chose to take pride in her new-found Independence and allow her to feel Satisfaction in a well-earned paycheck.
I chose to cherish the fact that I was getting to spend this holiday with Parker as he played Hero to starry-eyed younger cousins and showed respect to wizened elders.
We thought about Hillary, and she thought about us.  I texted her funny anecdotes and sent her a picture of the bulging, over-the-top food table.  And she texted me details about spending Thanksgiving Day with my sister...eating...cuddling with the dog and cats...putting up the Christmas Tree.  And then about working Black Friday and how it wasn't as bad as she'd feared. She said "hi" on speaker phone to the gathered relatives.
It's easy to see life as All or Nothing.  But the reality is that every moment...every situation...has Something.
And this Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for Somethings!