I'm So Sad

I answered the door a little while ago to see a 20-ish young lady holding out a tin of Boy Scout popcorn. "I'm "R's" cousin" she said, handing me the popcorn. "His mom asked me to bring you the popcorn that you ordered."

R is our neighbor who lives a few houses down the road. He's in 6th grade. He's very kind and soft-spoken with a very gentle soul. He's a really special kid. My 4 year old really likes him, and about once a week, R will call and ask if he can come over to play. We live on a quiet country road in a very rural area, and there aren't any other kids who live right near us, so this is always a real treat for the boys. R doesn't have any siblings, and I think he gets lonely sometimes.

I thought it was odd that R wasn't delivering the popcorn himself, since he usually loves to come over and see the boys. "How's R doing?" I asked?

"Actually, he's not doing well. He's in the hospital and he's going to have to have a liver transplant" she answered.

I was stunned. He had told me once in conversation that he had a liver disease, and that he had to have blood transfusions. I listened, but I didn't push for details, knowing that if and when he wanted to tell me more about it, he would.

I am hoping and praying that everything will be okay for him, and he will pull through just fine. But I hate that he has to go through this.

R, hang in there buddy, be strong. This world doesn't have enough people like you in it. We need you.

Reason #3678 Why Not to Buy Toys Made in China

Yesterday Bug was playing with a little telescope/spyglass that Santa brought him last year. After quietly studying it for a minute, he asked "Mommy, I thought Santa brought me this toy."

"Yes, he did", I answered, while at the same time trying to predict what his next question would be, so that I could be ready with a good response.

"Well, how come it says Made in China on it?"

Have you ever had the feeling of going through a "mental Rolodex", looking for the right thing to say? There were a dozen clever answers I could have given him. It could have been my moment to shine as the creative, witty, thinking-on-her-feet kind of mom I wish I was.

Instead, I panicked. "Ummm, I'm not sure. Maybe his elves were in China when they made it." As soon as I said it I knew how ridiculous it sounded. "Ask Daddy when he gets home," I stammered. "He knows more about the elves and their toy-making"

Brilliant. Just brilliant.

Who taught this kid to read, anyway?

Give Me All Your Money and a...

Today, Boo and I were playing "Lone Ranger". The following conversation took place:

Boo(in a tough-guy voice): "I've got a weapon, and you have to do whatever I say!!"
Me("surrendering" with my hands in the air): "Okay, okay! What do you want?"
Boo:"I want all your money, your weapon....and a wig!"

Huh?

After I stopped my hysterical laughing he withdrew his request for the wig.

He cracks me up, that kid.

I Liked It, I Really Liked It!

We did end up going out for diner on Thanksgiving, and what a treat it was! No preparation, no grocery shopping, no cooking, and no dishes!! Woohoo! Apparently it is getting more and more common for folks to eat out on Thanksgiving, because the restaurant was PACKED. After dinner, my mother-in-law came to our house for a little while and Bug showed her how to make a really cool 3-D snowflake out of paper. Everyone was happy and full by the end of the evening.

Friday I took the boys to the movies and then bowling. It was lots of fun to just play with them all day. When I'm at home, I often get caught up in all the little things I need to do around the house, when I really should just take time to concentrate on playing with my boys. And playing with them is SO much more fun than working around the house!

Unfortunately, the rest of the weekend went downhill. I came down with a stomach bug Friday night and was sick all night and all the next day. Saturday night Boo woke up and yelled "Daddy!! I just threw up in my bed!!" Normally, he would call for me, but he knew I was sick too. He's such a thoughtful little fella!

Counting My Blessings

I recently read a blog about a family who lost their 4 year old little boy to cancer after a long and courageous battle. In thinking about their terrible and unimaginable loss, I've realized that I have no right to feel sad and complain about any aspect of my life. I am so incredibly lucky to have two healthy children. It's something I take for granted all too often, but tragically many others don't have that luxury. As I type this, the boys sit a few feet away, playing with their knights and castle. Every few minutes they quarrel over who has more weapons, who has more knights, etc... I know that many families who have lost children would give anything to have their children back, to hear them argue with their siblings, to hear them do or say anything at all. This Thanksgiving, I will focus on the many blessings I have, instead of feeling sad about the things and people I miss.

My Sharp-Dressed Guy

Yesterday Bug had to be picked up early from school because he had thrown up in his classroom. Poor kid. He embarrasses REALLY easily, so this must have been just awful for him. Boo was so cute and sweet to him when he got home. He told his brother that he would get a blanket for him, take care of him and even lay with him on the couch to keep him company. When Hubby commented that it was very sweet the way he was taking care of his older brother, Boo responded "C'mon Daddy, he's my brother, what do you expect?" I'm telling you , these two are so adorable together (when they're not trying to kill each other).

Over the weekend, we went to a musical at our local high school. Before we left, Bug and Boo disappeared in Bug's bedroom for quite a while. They emerged some time later, with Boo all dressed up in Bug's dress pants, dress shirt, and jacket (which were 2 sizes too big for him). Ummm, a little over-dressed for a high school show maybe? He clearly thought he he was lookin' good though, I could tell by the way he was strutting his stuff. Later, when we were out, he went up to a total stranger and said "Hey guy, am I lookin' good tonight?" "Why, yes, you are" answered the man. And I agree. You looked Mahhh-velous, my sweet boy.

Cranky

For the last few days I've been feeling really cranky, gloomy, unsettled. It happens every year right before the holidays begin. I see everyone around me making plans and talking about family gatherings, the radio is is playing Christmas music already. It's supposed to be the "most wonderful time of the year." I kind of feel like I'm outside peering in through a window, watching everyone else "sing" and "make merry", but I'm locked out. I want to share in the excitement, and I even go through the motions, but it always feels like something is missing.

My folks (my dad and step-mom) live in Florida for part of the year, they leave at the end of October, so they aren't around for Thanksgiving or Christmas. My mom died almost 20 years ago. My brother lives in California. Except for my elderly mother-in-law who is in the beginning stages of Alzheimer's, we don't live near any other family.

When I was little, my mom, dad, brother and I would make the hour drive to my grandparents house every Christmas Eve. All the aunts, uncles, and cousins would be there. It was a lot of fun, and I have many memories of driving back to our house at night, listening to Christmas carols on the radio, feeling so happy and warm and excited and content. No matter what other problems our family had, Christmas Eve always seemed perfect. On Christmas day, there was always church, and then the day was spent playing with new toys. The day after Christmas, relatives from my dad's side of the family would come to our house for the afternoon, and we got to see cousins from that side of the family.

Things are so different now. My mom is dead, my grandparents are all dead, and my cousins are all scattered all over the country. I haven't spoken to most of them in years. We were never really close anyway. But it sure was nice to pretend we were once a year.

This year, as is usually the case, my husband has to work at the hospital on Thanksgiving. Last year I spent the entire morning and afternoon in the kitchen(when I wasn't dealing with the kids, who were 3 and 5 at the time). I prepared a huge feast for us, that I served when hubby got home. The kids each took about 4 bites of food, declared they didn't like it, and were done. I was so tired and worn out by then, and dreading the clean-up, that I didn't have much of an appetite either. This year, I think we're just going to go out for dinner. I know it will be a lot easier this way, and I'll make the best of it. Still, it just doesn't feel "right".

Me and Bug

Today I went in to volunteer in Bug's class, as I do every Thursday. I really enjoy it and it gives my ego a big boost when all the kids run up to me and give me hugs as soon as they see me. The classroom teacher was out today so there was a sub. Now, I'm the first person to acknowledge that substitute teaching can be hard. Really hard. I've been subbing part time for a few years, since I left my regular teaching job, and I've had my share of classes from Hell. However, the scene that greeted me when I walked into my son's room today was like something out of Animal House. There were kids on desks, kids under desks, and quite frankly I'm surprised there weren't kids trying to cram themselves in desks. Another half dozen kids were chasing each other around the room. I looked around for the teacher, but she was nowhere to be found. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if the kids had her hog-tied in the bathroom. Finally I asked my son where she was and he pointed to a out of the way spot behind a bookcase. There she sat, chatting with another student, seemingly oblivious to what was going on around her. Thankfully, Bug was one of the few students actually sitting at his desk doing his work. NOT that he is a saint. Far from it. At times, he can be the class clown, and he has been reprimanded by his teacher more than once for it. Just last week, his teacher and I were chatting and she told me he had to take a "think time" twice that day. Once for running down the hallway and seeing how far he could slide on his knees(what can I say, he loves baseball) and once for daring another student to put pretzel sticks in his nose and pretend he was a walrus. How funny, oops, I mean, naughty, is that? Lucky for him, he is really, really bright and is very goal oriented. So, he likes to get his work done. Today I could tell that the classroom "environment" wouldn't really be conducive to his learning, so when my volunteer time was up, I took him home with me. I fibbed and told the teacher he wasn't feeling well. Which wasn't completely untrue, as he has up the last few nights coughing. Also, he had a really bad blister. Okay, so that's a lame excuse. But it's true!! Anyway, we had a lovely afternoon together. Just me and my Bug.

Names

Like most moms, I spend a lot of time thinking and talking about my kiddos. I've been trying to decide how to refer to them in this blog. Should I use their real names? First initials? Refer to them as the "older son" and the "younger son"? Well, in order to afford them some degree of anonymity and spare them the embarrassment that inevitably goes with stories that moms tell about their kids, I've opted not to use their real names. Calling them "older son" and "younger son" seems too anonymous, and quite frankly, takes too long to type. So, Henceforth, they shall be known as Bug (older)and Boo (younger). Cute, short, and easy to type.

This morning as I was driving Boo to preschool, he was uncharacteristically quiet. Right as we were turning into the preschool driveway, he let out a big sigh, and pronounced "Yep, the world is a pretty darn big place." Hmmm, was it the 3 mile drive from our house to his school that led him to this conclusion?

Early morning philosophizing from a 4 year old. I love it.

Hmm...where to begin?

Well, let's just jump right in, shall we? November in the Northeast can be oh-so-dreary. The leaves are gone, the sky is gray, the weather is chilly and damp. Blah. It doesn't help matters that I've got a nasty cold. Makes me want to just curl up under a blanket on the couch and sleep the day away. The wee ones are both at school... oh, it would be so nice! Just me, my blanket, and my thoughts. Ya know, maybe the bears are onto something with that whole hibernation thing.

Okay, time to stop day dreaming. A day on the couch is not meant to be for me today. I have to substitute teach this afternoon. And, hubby has taken the day off work to work on our new mudroom/garage addition. He was hinting in a not-so-subtle way that he could really use some help this morning. Maybe if I hid under a blanket on the couch he wouldn't be able to find me?

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So, I decided hiding under the blanket wasn't a very grown-up thing to do. Besides, I've tried it with my kids and they find me every time. I stoically lent my carpentry skills to hubby for a while even though I felt like crap. Okay, so I what I really did was hammer a few nails and whine to myself about about feeling crappy.
On the way home from preschool, my 4 year old, asked me "Mommy, is the Vampire State Building in New York City?" This elicited teasing and uncontrolled laughter from my almost 7 year old. But then I reminded him that a few months ago, while I was folding laundry, he held up my bra and said to his younger brother "This is for holding up Mommy's braces." "Uh, no honey,"I said, "they're called breasts." I know, it wasn't very nice of me to bring it up, but sometimes as a parent ya just have to level the playing field a little!

Testing...

Testing. Hello? Is this thing on??

Okay, first, an explanation of the title. It's from my favorite poem:

Reflections on a Gift of Watermelon Pickle Received from a Friend Called Felicity

During that summer
When unicorns were still possible;
When the purpose of knees
Was to be skinned;
When shiny horse chestnuts
(Hollowed out
Fitted with straws
Crammed with tobacco
Stolen from butts
In family ashtrays)
Were puffed in green lizard silence
While straddling thick branches
Far above and away
From the softening effects
Of civilization;
During that summer--
Which may never have been at all;
But which has become more real
Than the one that was--
Watermelons ruled.
Thick imperial slices
Melting frigidly on sun-parched tongues
Dribbling from chins;
Leaving the best part,
The black bullet seeds,
To be spit out in rapid fire
Against the wall
Against the wind
Against each other;
And when the ammunition was spent,
There was always another bite:
It was a summer of limitless bites,
Of hungers quickly felt
And quickly forgotten
With the next careless gorging.
The bites are fewer now.
Each one is savored lingeringly,
Swallowed reluctantly.
But in a jar put up by Felicity,
The summer which maybe never was
Has been captured and preserved.
And when we unscrew the lid
And slice off a piece
And let it linger on our tongue:
Unicorns become possible again.

-John Tobias

Jeez, I first read this 25 years ago, and it STILL gets to me when I read it.