Feed the Children

I picked Parker and his friend (who is staying yet another weekend with us) from school.
As Parker swung his big bag into the backseat and moooooved the driver's seat back to accommodate his longer legs, he threw out "We should go to McDonald's."
I just shrugged.  I knew he needed to eat before going BACK to the school in an hour to play his final basketball game of the season.  I didn't care where the food came from.
He went on, "Cuz Alexa wants to go there."
Oh.
"So you want to meet her there?" I ask.
"No, she wants food from there.  She swears she'll pay us back."
Whatever.  I nodded and made sure my seatbelt was fastened securely as he managed to hit every pothole between the parking lot and the stop light.  His friend sat mute in the back seat.
Looking handsome in his button-up shirt, nice jeans, and silver chain...and driving casually with one hand he said over his shoulder, "Hey Shawn, grab that cd case."
And then it was my job to search for his latest mix cd and get the party started.
We bounced and boomed safely to McDonald's where he made the poor girl on the other side of the speaker wait through long pauses as he and Shawn decided what they wanted to eat, and then, through a combination of texts and phone calls, placed Alexa's order.
They didn't even ask what I wanted.
Not that it mattered because I don't eat that kind of food.
We pulled up to the window and I asked Parker, "Do you have money?"
He just laughed.
I fished out my debit card and made a big show of rolling down the window and saying loudly "Anyone else need anything to eat?  My mom's paying!"
Even Mr. Mute in the back seat laughed out loud.
They got their food and I got the bill.  And then they went back into the school leaving me with the smell of hamburgers in the air and a laugh in my heart...poorer in one way and richer in another.
I just smiled and rolled my eyes.  If I can make 3 teenagers happy for $11.12, I'll count myself blessed indeed.

On My Side

It had been a really long day.
So even though it was hours from most normal people's bedtime, I was ensconced in my king-sized nest, kindle in hand, planning to stay there til morning.
Parker sauntered in, took one look at me, and said, "Oh man..you are totally in my spot."
What?!
Apparently, Hubby had taken over the big screen tv downstairs, forcing Parker to retreat to his second favorite spot in the house...my bed with my tv and my remote control.  Normally, I don't care that he is keeping my side of the bed warm while I am flitting about doing laundry, grading spelling tests, or blogging.  When I'm ready to retire, I boot him out, turn off the tv, and fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.
But tonight I had to give him a hard time.
"This is MY side of the bed, buster.  And MY room and MY tv!"
He just laughed at me from the corner of his eyes and wormed under the covers in the middle of the bed and launched into a long story about how I used to sleep on the OTHER side of the bed and he remembers because he used to come in at night when he was scared and have to walk all the way around the bed to get to DAD'S side because I was too hard hearted to let him in bed with us.
He turned on some reality show about men who build guns and I rolled my eyes and went back to my novel.  But I smiled inside because I had totally forgotten how he used to come climb in our bed at night.  It's been so long ago and he seems so grown up now.  But I cherish that memory now, like I'll cherish the memory of this moment some day in the future when I have the bed and the house all to myself.
I'm happy that, for now, he's still on my side.

Good Night

I drove into the sunset, headed to yet another basketball game.  Alone.
I had left the dishes in the sink, the laundry on the floor, my sister's dog at the vet, and my children to fend for themselves.  Hillary was picking Parker up from practice.  I felt like a Slacker Mom...depending on my older child to take care of the younger one.  What was I doing?  Why was I killing myself to get to an event I don't even care that much about when I really just wanted to be home with my kids for the evening?
And then I got Hillary's facebook status update on my phone...
"Dinner and a movie with my lil bro!  Good way to end a great day!"
and I was happy and sad at the same time.
Four quarters and one overtime later, after a game that had ended badly, I stood in the hallway outside the locker room consoling my coach husband and rubbing away the beginnings of his migraine, and I knew why I had come.
Because I'm not just a Mom.  I'm also a Wife.
And there's enough of me to go around.

When I finally did get home, I made myself a snack and texted the kids from upstairs.
"Meet on my bed in 5 min?"
And they did.
I lay in between my favorite guy and girl and got updated on Jazz Choir, friendships, Algebra grades, GVC band (Parker got 8th chair...yay!), and the upcoming Homecoming plans.
I laughed a lot.
Finally, fatigue caught up with me and I hugged and kissed and thanked my kids for spending time with me.
We said Good Night.
And it was.

It's been too long.
Too long since I've been so inspired I kick the kids off the computer, turn on the music, and stay up late to let a story flow from my fingers.
When days go by with nothing to say, I know I'm getting off track.  Staying busy with things that don't matter, and not taking time to notice the things that do.  Getting through the lesson plans but not looking my students in the eyes.  Dreading the cold of throwing the covers back instead of savoring the last minute of my husband's warm back against mine.  Keeping my eyes on the white line of the road to yet another ball game, without looking up to see the gorgeous orange sunset in front of me.
I forget to feed my soul.  And she suffers.
Saturday morning, I made the effort to spend some much needed girl time with friends...and it was good.  I was reminded for the second time in a week that we are "human beings - not human doings" and that I need to remember to BE even as I live this crazy, wonderful, necessarily busy life.
I left that happy bubble to drive 60 miles the opposite direction to watch Parker play ball.  Then left him to ride the bus home and drove 100 miles in the opposite direction yet again to watch Hubby coach ball.  Then stopped by the grocery store and my sister's house before finally dragging home.
Both my kids were lounging in front of a fire and an old movie.
I made myself a snack, kicked off my cute but painful shoes, and joined them.
I didn't really care about the movie.  But it was so nice just to be in the same room with them.  Breathing the same air, and not DOING anything.
Just BEING with them fills my heart back up...makes me vow to be better.
And now I sit at the computer, music on, because the story isn't over...

Flip the Script

What kind of mother allows boys to turn her living room into a gymnastics studio?
The kind who has had a few too many snow days, I guess.

I started the morning watching out my kitchen window as my snow-suited son and his friends from next door played on the 4 wheeler.

They went around and around, taking turns getting thrown off the board as it slid into the corner.  Little B, 10 years younger than the others, hung with the big boys like a pro, making me laugh from the safety of my warm spy-spot.  

Before long they stomped inside, spilling snow and showing off rosy cheeks as they peeled off layers and left them at my back door. 

Hmmmm...

What to do now?

How about haul some mattresses into the living room and do flips?

I had misgivings, but they convinced me they wouldn't break anything...including their own bones...and that they would NOT jump off the furniture.  

I came downstairs and tried to ignore the loud thumps from up above.

Until Little B came trotting down the stairs and said, "Fonda, I'm NOT hurt!"

I lost all resistance and went to join the fun...by snapping the flipping :)

But even I have my limits.  After THIS I gave them the "Ok...find something else to play" speech.  

This is why I love boys...the creativity, the spunk, the throaty laughs, the spark they bring to my house with their boy-ness.  God knew I needed this, even as I prayed for another girl when I found out I was pregnant for the second time.  

And, boy, did God get it right! 

I'm so glad he flipped my script.

Game On

It began as a typical snow day.  But after 6 hours of xbox playing, tv watching, and general laziness, the family was growing restless.  So I reached far back into my bag of tricks and pulled out an old favorite.
"Let's play a game."
And so we did.

Can you tell yet who takes competition seriously in our family, and who just enjoys the game?
Of course music was playing (Parker's new cd he just created on itunes).  Of course cookies were baked during "off" turns.  And of course we had to stop the game frequently to take pictures...

My arms were too short to reach the board.  And since no one wanted to make the table smaller, I had to improvise.
Due to all this distraction and loose interpretation of the rules, the kids managed to squeak out the first victory.

But then Hubby cracked the whip and rules were followed religiously...leading to this predictable outcome.

He never has been able to just let the kids win.  Something about learning to be tough and life lessons....blah blah blah.
It's nice to know that in the game of life, even though some things change...we play Sequence instead of Cootie Bug now and I'm the only one who can't reach the board....some things stay the same...we still have to listen to the kids' music and we still have fun together.
And I think that makes us all winners.

Switch

I pulled up to get Parker from basketball practice, rushing as usual with my mind somewhere else.
As he headed toward the car, he tilted his head and gave me a funny look.
Only then did I remember...he wanted to drive!
I hopped out and he hopped in...banging his knees on the scooted up seat and exclaiming about how tiny I am because I have to have the rearview mirror pointing so far down.
And since that day, several weeks ago, it has been the same routine every evening.
I wait for him in the parking lot, and when I see him coming, I scoot the seat back as far as it goes and then walk around to the passenger seat.  He gets in, pulls the steering wheel down and adjusts the mirror up...turns NPR off and LeCrae on...we buckle up...and off we go.
I try to relax as he waits for traffic to break enough for him to make a left-hand turn, and he says things like "The other day I was driving and this song was on and it made me feel bad."  To which I reply, "Why did it make you feel bad?"  And he gives me a look and says, "No...bad.  You know, cool."
I totally would've gotten that if I hadn't been distracted by the semi flying toward my door.
But we make it safely home to cook dinner and do homework and watch tv.
And the next morning when I get in the car to go to work, I scoot the seat back up, adjust the mirrors, switch the music back...and smile.