A Midsummer Night's Dream

To be bored...or not to be bored.  That is the question.
So in an effort not to let the summer slip by unnoticed, I scoured the internet for fun things to do in our area.  I discovered a free Shakespeare Festival in Forest Park.  Just the thing-eth!
Hillary had to work, but Hubby, Parker and I packed a killer cooler, grabbed some lawn chairs and headed to the city.

The park had been transformed into "Shakespeare Glen"...complete with colorful tents, gypsy dancers, and multitudes of rabble like us.
We picked a shady spot on a hill and spread out our blanket.  Aside from a few ants, we were all smiles as we laughed and ate and watched people.

The variety was amazing.  There was a group of elegant senior citizens in front of us eating off real plates and drinking wine from crystal goblets.  They even had a cake in a tin cake pan!  Then there was a group of teenagers behind us, snacking on Doritos and sharing several mis-matched quilts.  There were young parents with their small children, and college kids with dreadlocks.  Even if there hadn't been a play to see, there would still have been a show!

Parker and I walked over to watch a side show juggling act.  The handsome young jester had us laughing with his antics and gasping at his ability to juggle knives while standing on a giant pink ball.  I have a feeling Parker and I are going to be saying "Oookaay?" in a fake british accent and giving each other thumbs up and cheesy smiles for a long time to come.  It was magical.  Only the sun setting over the tops of the line of port-o-potties reminded me we were still in the 21st century.
Finally it was time for the main event to begin.  We settled in to watch a live performance of The Taming of the Shrew.

It only took us a few minutes to get used to the Bard's language, and then we were laughing at his jokes.  When intermission came, Hubby and I walked around to the concession tents to see what they had to offer.  They had hot dogs and mixed drinks and...coffee?!  I couldn't believe it!  Right in front of me was a Kaldi coffee tent.  Not exactly Starbucks, but it could definitely pass for a first cousin.  But, alas, we had accidentally left our cash in the car.  I sighed and went back to our seats while Hubby headed to the Port-o-pot.
A few minutes later, he came walking back and handed me a Kaldi Mocha!  Perhaps he was trying his hand at the Taming of His Own Shrew...but never has such love shone from my eyes for that man. The show had resumed so he whispered, "I'll explain later."  Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth I just drank my coffee and asked no questions.   Later I found out that while Hubby was using the urinal, he looked down to see a crumpled $10 bill on the floor.  He figured it was a gift from the gods and used it to make his woman happy.
When the fun was finally over, we packed up our stuff and said goodbye to Shakespeare.  We were tired but happy and spent the drive home talking about our favorite parts of the show and friends who would've enjoyed sharing it with us.
Thank you, Shakespeare, for a mid-summer night's dream.

Just a Hair

(Note: something changed in Playlist. If you want music with the post, it won't start automatically. You need to scroll down and hit play.)


All I wanted to do was get back to my roots.
Well, ok...get RID of my roots is more like it.
I wanted to be blonde!

When I was little my hair was white-blonde and shiny.  Never mind that my mom cut it into a bowl shape and curled it under all around so I looked like the little boy in the Buster Brown shoe ad.  It stayed pretty light until my teens, and even then it might darken a bit in winter, but the summer sun turned it gold again in no time.

But then I birthed Parker.  And neither my body nor my hair has ever been the same.  I turned into a brunette.  Deciding that God knew what he was doing in the first place, I found a hairdresser and began changing it back.

Fastforward 15 years, when a routine visit to the beauty shop for highlights somehow took a wrong turn, frying the ends of my hair and forcing me to go back to the dark side for a few months if I wanted to avoid going bald. It was fine for the winter.  But now it's summer.  And I want to be Chelsea Kane.

Concerned about keeping my hair healthy, my hairdresser tried a new product on me.  I should have known something was wrong when she washed it 3 times before she let my head out of the sink.  She frowned and she blow-dryed.  She applied lots of gel and hairspray, mumbling something under her breath about "turning those streaks darker".  And then she said, "Do you have to go anywhere today?"
Uh-oh.
She turned me around to face the mirror and there I was with a cute new cut...and blue streaks in my blonde hair!
"Actually," I replied, "I have to go to Parker's basketball games this evening."
"Well, do you have a ball cap?"  she asked.
I just looked at her.  I do not wear hats.
She sniffed.  "Well, sit up at the top of the bleachers."
I think she wanted to re-do my head then and there, but she was already backed up by an hour.  We made a plan for me to come back in two days, and she finally let me leave.

I rushed home to grab a few things before heading to the gym.  Hillary's car was in the driveway.  I tried to duck in and out before she saw me, but I heard her yell up the stairs, "Mom?"
Darn.
She bounded up the steps.  She stopped.  "Wow!"  and then "Mom, I'm so proud of you!"
Of course she would assume I'd done it on purpose.  It's exactly the kind of Rock Star thing she would do.
Then she added, "Come meet my friends."
I came halfway down the stairs trying to keep my head in the stairwell and gave a half-hearted wave and a "nice to meet you" to her friends.  The handsome young man who is Hill's new boyfriend, gallantly said hello, hiding his surprise that his girlfriend's mom looked like a character from the X Men.

I made my escape and sped to the ballgame.  Where I sat in the car waiting for Parker to come out.
I texted him.  i'm in the parking lot.
He texted back.  come in.
can u come out?
y can't u come in?
Um...because I have blue hair?
I pulled the food card.  i thot u wanted to get something 2 eat.
im coming out
Sigh.

Ever the honest son, he took one look at me and said, "Whoa.  That's really blonde."
I turned to face him full-on.
"With blue streaks..." he continued.
As we drove toward McDonalds he said, "I'm not gonna lie...that's gonna take some getting used to."
"The blonde?" I asked.
"No, I'm already used to the blonde," he said.  "I'm talking about the blue."
Great.

He had one game left.  By this point, I had facebooked my dilemma and gotten helpful feedback from loving friends.  I decided to march into that gym, with it's ultra-violet lighting, and Rock this Look like somebody's momma.
So I did.
And you know what?  No one even seemed to notice.
These people know what's truly important in life...basketball.

So maybe it wasn't so bad.  And maybe I tend to over-react...just a hair.

The Hard Stuff

As much as I love my kids, parenting is not always fun and games.
Yes, they make me laugh.
Yes, they are sometimes helpful and kind.
Yes, I consider them my friends...up to a point.

And then there are those times when The Hard Stuff is called for and I feel like a failure.  I wonder what went wrong when I thought we were doing so well becoming Good People.  And I can't worry about being their friend, because there are hard things to say that they don't want to hear.  And I love them too much to let them go out into the world with unfinished edges.

So I withhold my help when I know they can do it on their own.  And instead of unquestioned sympathy I give the unvarnished Truth.  And I hate every minute of it.

It's times like this...when she hangs up still crying and he sits sulking alone in his bedroom... that I have to grit my teeth and trust that our bonds will stretch and not break.

This has been one of those days.
But now it's 8:30 and the four of us are tooling through the dark towards Dairy Queen.  It started with a coupon I found in my purse (buy one Blizzard, get one free), and then Parker got out of practice, and Hubby got finished working out, and Hillary arrived home and wanted to know why I had my keys in my hand.  After crashing into each other all day, the pieces finally came together seamlessly.
Hubby and Parker compared notes about how much weight they lifted that day.
Hillary told us about her "date".
Mumford and Sons sang from the cd player.
The breeze blew into my face, lacing my hair with the scent of honeysuckle and damp earth and Summer Night.
And the corners of my mouth began to turn up again.

At least for today, the Hard Stuff will be topped off with a little bit of Soft Serve

Girl Friend

First day of freedom and I had plans.
Plans which did NOT involve recess duty or math manipulatives.
Plans which DID include shoe shopping and Starbucks.
I popped my head into Hillary's room to see if she wanted to come along.
She didn't even hesitate.
And an hour later we were on our way to the city.  Me and my girl.

We ate pretzel dogs and perused racks of pastel ruffly things.
We tried on shoes.
We took turns coming out of dressing rooms, commenting on the cuteness of the other's couture.
We tried on more shoes.
I played with make-up in Sephora and she picked up every piece of jewelry in Charming Charlies.
We got Starbucks.
We tried on even more shoes.

And after buying belts and mascara and shoes and shirts we headed home.

We are good at this, she and I.  After all, we've been practicing since she was 3 and I was a lonely young mother in a new city.  In those days we would head to the mall for a big, decorated cookie...that being the only treat I could afford.  And today, just like back then, she fell asleep as I drove us home...her music filling the car and her friendship filling my heart.

Riding in Cars with Boys

Parker and I headed out the door.  We were on our way to pack up my classroom for the summer.  As soon as my foot hit the concrete floor of the garage, the question was popping out of Parker's mouth...

"Can I drive?"

I tossed him the keys.

He chauffeured me to the bank, the gas station, the post office...one hand on the wheel...reflective shades carefully in place...music on...never complaining, just happy to be behind the wheel.

And I was happy to be along for the ride.

We pulled up to Sonic, and I proudly noticed how polite he was to the lady on the other side of the speaker.  As he paid for our drinks (with my money) I ripped paper off his straw and pulled it out of it's sheath with my teeth. "Uh oh!" I said.  "I just put my teeth on your straw."

He just rolled his eyes.  "So. You're my mom," he said.  "You'll probably be doing that when I'm 30 and I still won't care."

Horrified I replied, "Oh, God!  I hope not!"  Surely he'll have a wife to put her teeth on his straw by then.  And I do NOT plan on being that Mother-in-Law.

Anyway, we made it to my school where Parker and another of my Favorite Young Men made a manly show of carrying boxes and holding doors, making me feel well-loved and taken care of. 

Later that afternoon, I was back in the passenger seat, only this time it was Hubby's hands on the wheel.  He chauffeured me to Aldi, Wal-Mart, Panera, and Target...one hand on the wheel...reflective shades carefully in place...never complaining, just happy to be with me.

And I was happy to be along for the ride.

Hubby was polite to the lady at Starbucks, and I couldn't help thinking that Parker was learning to be a Good Man by watching a Good Man.  In-between lessons on shooting a basketball, changing a tire, and mowing a lawn, Parker has been getting lessons in Living in the moment and Loving a woman.  I think it's starting to stick.

It wasn't so long ago that I chafed at being chauffeured...craving control and fearing that anyone else's hands on the wheel would certainly take me somewhere I didn't want to go.  

But Parker isn't the only one who's been learning lessons.

I've learned that Life is a looong trip.  And it's so much nicer when you take turns driving.

So today I relax into my seat...feet on the dash...sun on my face...starbucks in hand...and I enjoy the ride.

Re-Fueling

A madman with a gun almost ruined my day. 

He led the cops on a merry chase, shooting stuff up and locking schools down.  My first graders and I spent morning recess playing inside with the sunshine mocking us from the window.  And then I found out my sister had been on the road with the action…saw it…heard it.  She’s ok.  But still…

On days like this, when end-of-the-school-year stress is at a peak and the cafeteria serves Cook’s Choice…when people are unpredictable and a 6 year old asks you, “Did you get a plastic tooth in the front?”…at least I have the memories of days like last weekend.

Heading to the track meet fully prepared for every contingency (heat, cold, rain, boredom).  Driving thru sunshine all by myself.  Singing at the top of my lungs and making faces to go with it.  Replaying the same song 12 times because I’m feeling it and there is no one to be annoyed. 

Watching Parker do his thing…
 

Sitting in the shade as he joins me between races, making me feel exactly like Hillary did 15 years ago when her friends asked her to come play and she replied in her 3 yr old voice, “Not now, I’m playing wif my mom.”
The Man in the Yellow Hat was there too, proudly coaching from the sidelines, as usual.  I don't hang out with him for fear I'll be mistaken for Curious George.

And then there’s THIS wonderful day…

All four of us together for church, lunch, and a day in the park. 

And ice cream and Starbucks…of course!

So on days like today I read blog posts like this one.  And I look at the pictures and relive all those Good Moments.  And I thank my lucky stars that I have a husband and children that make Mother’s Day come more than once a year.  Then I text a friend and watch a funny tv show. 

And I am Re-fueled.

Bring it, Life.  I’m ready.  Even on a day like today.

Throwing Knives and Shooting Stars

If you give a boy your debit card...
He's going to ask to order Ninja Throwing Knives.

If you order the knives,
he's going to ask you for the throwing stars to go with it.

When the items arrive,
he'll want to practice his Ninja skills.
Even if it's raining outside.

The rain will remind him that he needs his Muck boots.

Which he will wear to retrieve the knives that missed the large plywood target and fell in the mud.

The muddy knives and stars will probably make him holler up the stairs to his mom to bring him a big glass of water and an old dirty towel.

Seeing his mom, he will say
"Hey, mom...You wanna watch me throw?"

Which will cause his Mother to put off doing laundry and grab her camera.

And chances are,
if you let your mom take pictures of you Throwing Knives and Shooting Stars,
she's probably going to write a blog to go with it.