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.

Patrons of the Arts

It's been a long time since a Friday night meant dressing up and going out.  Ok, Friday night has never really meant that for me... I get a lot of basketball-track meet-what's for dinner-empty cupboard-overflowing laundry basket Fridays.
But tonight, I put on my fancy shirt and some heels that are ridiculously uncomfortable and Hubby and I pretended to be patrons of the arts.

Wait...we do feed, clothe, shelter, and insure an Artist...so I guess that counts.  Right?
Did I say patrons?  Perhaps I meant parents.
Anyway, we headed to the art show where Hillary's collage was on display.

Hubby and I walked around slowly, taking in all the serious artwork in a thoughtful and sophisticated way, and pretending we understood the deep meaning of the more abstract pieces.
Hillary mingled with the tatooed, pierced, edgy-coiffed artists.

Parker did what any 15 year old little brother would do in this situation...
babysat our purses while playing games on his ipod.

Hubby and I  hung around, eating fruit on toothpicks and listening to various young people play piano, until awards were handed out.  Hillary didn't win anything, but enthusiastically cheered as friends and classmates were honored.
And then it was time for us old people to go home.
But not before I made Hill snap a few pics...

Little Brother got to stay and hang out with the Artist and her friends.















While Hubby and I ended our evening with popcorn and our DVR at home.  People in their 30's can only take so much excitement, ya know.
We have two weeks to rest up for the next big college event...Jazz Choir concert.  I've gotta find my dangly earrings...

Simply Sunday

This Easter was different from years past.
We didn't color any eggs.  I didn't buy a new dress.  And I didn't know any men who had been growing their beard out since January so they could be Jesus in a cantata.
This year things were simple.
It was just me and Hill, so we put on our cute shoes and went to church, where she sang with the worship team and then we sat (quite literally) cheek to cheek on the packed pew.
Then we came home and took pictures of ourselves.
And shared a bag of Dove chocolates.
And put on jeans and went to lunch with my sister and her boyfriend.
And then, we made an impromptu trip to the nearest starbucks.  Just because we wanted to.
It may not have been traditional, but it felt a lot like a holiday.  After all, there were a lot of little every-day blessings.  And often, that's how I see and feel God...in the laugh of my child...in the company of my sister...in the taste of a good cup of coffee...in the peaceful quiet of looking out the window at the rain falling on my woods.
So, I am thankful in my heart as I celebrate this Holy day which also happens to be just a simple Sunday.

First Act

Parker recently made his debut as an actor in the school play.  It was called Promedy, and his character was the Drama kid who was in love with the Cheerleader.  I sat in the second row and took illegal photographs.

He was cool and confident, even when he had to ad-lib through a few forgotten lines.  He projected his voice like a pro.  And in the end, when he finally got the girl, he looked WAY too comfortable with his arms around her "pretending" to dance.
Is this really the same kid who literally chased my car in the school parking lot during his first grade year because he didn't want to stay there "by himself"?  The same kid who would cry because "people were looking at him"?  The same kid who called us to come pick him up at midnight the first three times he tried spending the night with a friend?
That kid was afraid of a lot of things.
But he lived and he learned and he kept doing things that scared him.
And now he's a young man who knows he has what it takes to try out for the team...to stand up to peer pressure...to put on stage make-up and star in the school play...to be the main character in the Story of His Own Life.
I can't wait to see how it ends.  But for now, I'm enjoying the show.