Wednesday, May 26, 2010

It’s Tuesday….Er, Make That Wednesday...

This week has flown! We have had something going on every day or night since Saturday, and it is starting to wear me down. I think today may be my breaking point. And here’s why.

Tomorrow is the last day of school. Yay, right? Except today is Honors Assembly for Aaron and Splash Day for Victoria. I thought I was going to miss half of my work day, which I would do for my kids, but as it turns out, nothing went as I planned.

First, I was absolutely convinced that the Honors Assembly would begin at 9:00 a.m. today. I found out at 8:15 that it was to start at 8:30. Having forgotten my camera at home and backtracking to fetch it, I managed to swing into the school parking lot at 8:35. I walked into the auditorium right as Aaron was being called to the stage for his AB Honor Roll award. No time to get the camera out, and I missed the opportunity to revel in his success! Feeling like a complete failure in the presence of the stay-at-home moms who create daily magic on the school campus and have musical and academic prodigies for children, I decided to stay through Victoria’s honors assembly, even though I knew she wouldn’t be called for any awards. She was pleased that I was there, and that Mimi and Papa were on hand to take pictures with her. So that made me happy. But then I get a note from the counselor that we need to meet to discuss her standardized test scores next week…during my vacation…on the morning of my anniversary…at 8:00 a.m.! Ick.

Victoria has had a rough year, and it has been equally hard on me and Dom as we tried to help her navigate the unnecessarily rough terrain of Second Grade. So when the school secretary called me at 11:00 to say Victoria needed her towel for Splash Day at 12:00, I was just beside myself. My dear friend Mickey offered to run home and grab a towel to save me the drive all the way to my own house, since the school is just 6 minutes from my office. Dear, sweet Mickey! So I am off to the school, for the third time today. And I truly feel that this is just a rough day, and that we love our school and our teachers very much, because they care enough to meet with us on their vacation too to make sure we are prepared for the next first day of school.

Happy Summer.

Saturday, May 22, 2010

The Lost Art of Chivalry

I am a Do-It-Yourself-er. I rarely decide to pay someone to do something for me if I fully understand the hows and whys of doing it myself. Plumbing and electrical work I will typically leave to the professionals, but other random home improvements like paint, garden design, and room remodeling I can usually do on my own. I take great pride in knowing my hands provided many of our home improvements.

This weekend our project is to finish a project, and the baseboards won out. So, off to Home Depot I went, armed with my list of supplies and room measurements. By the time I had filled my buggy with all the little supplies and headed to the moulding aisle, I had already been in Home Depot for a considerable time period. I saved the cutting of the moulding for last, incase my phone died and my shopping list disappeared at a critical moment.

So there I am at the moulding, cutting my quarter-round rather easily. Then I moved on to the 16-foot long, 6-inch tall baseboards. I needed to cut about 8 sections of baseboard so that it would travel in the truck securely. After cutting one baseboard with the free hand-held saw provided, I realized I was sweating. After the second baseboard, I was dripping wet. At this point, there were three men on the same aisle with me. One of them needed assistance from an employee, and when the employee arrived, he assumed I was the customer in need. To a degree, I was. But I informed him it was the older gentleman in the hat who called for him. When the assisting was done for the older gentleman, the employee came to me and said, “You’ll only get one bicep really strong unless you work the saw in the other hand!” I laughed and commented on my personal policy not to sweat in public. The older gentleman said, “I’ve been watching her. I was thinking about hiring her.”

Oh, so you’d think about hiring me, but not about HELPING me???????

I don’t usually require that men assist me or treat me like the little lady who can’t or shouldn’t handle manual labor. But there comes a point when help is not degrading. If it is offered as a sign of, “Here…that’s easier for me to do, and I can see you’re struggling…” then it’s totally acceptable! As it turns out, of the four men who watched me saw myself into a cardiac frenzy, the only one who was willing to help me was the one who was being paid to do so. He sawed the last two pieces I needed, and then my aching arms and I steered my buggy of lumber to the check out while I regained a normal breathing pattern.

Chivalry needs a resurrection, for sure.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

I Get Knocked Down, But I Get Up Again…

This weekend Victoria experienced the Sacrament of First Communion while I experienced a complete meltdown. I have learned much this year, not the least of which is that I cannot be teacher and parent at the same time for the same purpose. I opted this year to help in teaching the First Communion class mostly because Victoria experienced separation anxiety all last year, and well, it just seemed like it’d be easier on everyone if I was present in her class. And they needed teachers, so the planets seemed to align and beckon my participation. With the benefit of hindsight, I suppose any teacher would tell me that teaching my own child’s class was not a good idea. But there’s not much you can do with a stubborn mama like me, apart from letting her learn from her own mistakes, so everyone watched me dive right in.

As the year drew to a close, and the sacrament drew nearer to experience, I lapsed into a former habit and began to convince myself that I could do it all in a single 24 hour period…coordinate a last-minute practice and retreat; provide direction to parents; print the programs; make the reception cake; photograph the children; photograph my own child and family members; gather, entertain and feed my own extended family; and ultimately bask blissfully in the moment of my child (and 29 others I have come to love) receiving this holy Sacrament.

Boy did I overestimate myself!  Um, again.

As everything culminated on Sunday morning, I was overwhelmed beyond belief. Stranded across the sanctuary from my family and my camera, and seated behind the girls of our class, I peered over and around poufy white dresses and veils to find my daughter in the line for Communion – and realized she had just received it and was walking back to her seat. I had missed it. I suddenly felt my eyes stinging and prayed I wouldn’t go all Steel Magnolias on anyone. I made it all the way home without bursting into tears, briefly entertained family at home, and then crashed for a three hour nap.

While I felt gutted by the experience Sunday morning, I am reminded that God sees more of the experience than we do while we are in it. Now that a couple of days have passed, I am able to reflect on the joy of the whole year – getting to know all the kids, and sharing something so special with them. And today, I got an email from the photographer who was hired to take all our photos. She took amazing pictures of Victoria, and as I clicked through the pictures of all the kids, I realized she also took photos of each child receiving Communion. It made me so happy to see that picture of Vic. I emailed the photographer and thanked her for getting that moment back for me. Now, when I look at the pictures of those beautiful children, I am reminded of their sweet, innocent spirits and the love their Creator has for each of them…

…which is the reason we were there in the first place.

Monday, May 17, 2010

Lost In Transit

In 1999 Dom and I moved from the apartment we had inhabited for three years into our first house, where we still reside. And to this day, I can name the three items that never made it from the apartment to the house. For whatever reason, I cannot seem to let it go. I had packed and labeled everything so neatly, even pre-designating each box to be delivered to a certain room in the house. So here’s the list. Since November 30, 1999, I have not seen:

My favorite door mat. A rugged mat for outdoor use, it had a silhouetted Labrador sitting on the edge of a marsh, surrounded by cattails. It reminded me of Bull, the original “Best Dog Ever.” My best guess is that it caught some wind riding down Bert Kouns and left to have its own adventure. I originally bought it at WalMart, but of course I can’t find a duplicate.

A 6” Waterford crystal clock, grandfather style, given to me by my college employer. I always displayed the clock next to the Waterford water pitcher he gave us as a wedding gift. The pitcher made it to the house. The clock has not been seen. I can’t imagine where it ended up. But wherever it is, it is packaged neatly in its original blue velvet padded box with magnetic lid.

My rosary. Now, I’m not a big rosary-praying person, but I like tote-able trinkets, and I really liked the beads on this one. It had clear beads that were cut at angles, but still felt smooth. And it had a little weight to it, so it felt good in my hands. I used to keep it under my pillow just so that when I slid my hand under there to get comfy and go to sleep I would feel it and remember to say a little prayer as I drifted off. I miss those beads. Haven’t found a good replacement yet.

So that’s it. Ten years of wondering what happened to some of my favorite things. If we lost more than these three items, they were things I didn’t care too much for, and haven’t noticed their absence. But these three things I miss regularly.

I wonder if St. Anthony imposes a statute of limitations on lost items…

Monday, May 10, 2010

Ahh-CHOO and Uh-Oh!

I’ve been sniffling and sputtering for about a week now, longer if you count the two weeks that my eyes itched and burned. So I just chalked it all up to seasonal allergies. After all, I had noticed Grass Pollen finally made its appearance on the pollen charts and I typically battle with oak, grass and ragweed at their respective times of year. I was trying to be a sweet wife when I mowed the yard last Monday while Dom was out of town. Despite driving right through a dustbowl and knowing immediately that I would pay dearly for it, I came in from the chore and took all necessary precautions to rid myself of any freeloading pollen spores. Shower, hair washing, and nasal wash. Ha! Take that, seasonal allergies!!

So why was I so stuffy on Tuesday? By lunchtime Wednesday I felt genuinely crummy, and so began to take stock of what was new in my routine. Well, I mowed. And oops…I had some honey on a sandwich. And, well, I have been visiting the pet store since Sunday. But I wouldn’t be going back to the pet store regularly since we brought home the bunny, Marsha Mallow.

I would not face it.

Nope, don’t even utter it!

I can NOT be allergic to the bunny. Do you hear me? C-A-N-N-O-T!!!!

I finally uttered the idea to my mom. “What if?” Then I described all of the accoutrements that we bought for Marsha. She eats hay. HAS to have it as part of her daily diet. Mom shared, “I could never go on hayrides because I’m so allergic to hay!” And wouldn’t you know, mom and I have parallel allergies!

So I spent the next 48 hours praying that I am not allergic to Marsha. I can handle being allergic to her hay. Dom mentioned the idea to Vic, who came straight to me and asked “What if?” I promised her that if I am allergic to Marsha, we will just work around it. Marsha is here to stay.

Now what?

Well, I went to my doctor this afternoon. I love that she can see me on such short notice! I have been diagnosed with a cold. Maybe a little seasonal allergy layered in there somewhere, but definitely not a reaction to Marsha. The hay is still in question, but with some prescriptions and rest I should be symptom free soon.

And that makes me very hoppy!

Sunday, May 09, 2010

Happy Mothers’ Day

Today is indeed a special day for moms, and while my mom and I will celebrate together next Friday, I want to take today to celebrate the mothers dear to my heart, who inspire me quite more than they will ever understand. Here’s to you, ladies!!

To Charolette, for raising the man I love.

To Elaine, whose children not only come first in her life, they are first in her thoughts every minute of every day, and it shows.

To Ginger, for the camaraderie in AC Math, AR, homework, progress reports…I could go on and on.

To Jill, for being so much more than a mom, and for leading by example: children trump job, every time.

To Kasie, who could feed the world from her very own kitchen, with one hand tied behind her back.

To Kathy, kind and gentle matriarch of our wonderful school, who loves hundreds of kids as if each were her very own. Thank you for your care of my babies.

To Kim, my Convert Comrade, who reassures me of my own abilities when I begin to doubt myself. “I’m just a vessel!”

To Margie, who is my example to follow in talking openly with my kids about everything, for reminding me not to take myself too seriously, and that there is always a reason for a good laugh.

To Mary, for hanging tough with me by saying, “You’re too freaking young for a cell phone, missy!!”

To Melissa, who makes it all look so easy, though I know it has been anything but.

To Mickey, who has raised six children and countless animals, for fast becoming my source of reassurance as I wrap my head around the different personalities of my children, especially the personality that differs from my own.

To Aunt Penny, for being so open and giving, and for allowing those she loves to be themselves.

Last but certainly not least, to my own mom, Jan, for giving me Life - in every sense of the word.

My sweet friends, I thank you for the therapy sessions, the encouragement, the light you radiate and the love you share. Happy Mothers’ Day to YOU!

Monday, May 03, 2010

Adventures with Walter

 

Meet Walter.  Walter came to our home from some random toy-producing party the kids attended.  Small, adult-palm size bright red teddy bear with now uneven eyes as a result of too much "gettin' to know ya" time with Mabel.  Walter was accompanied by Cupcake, a brown bear of equal presence. I haven't seen Cupcake in a while.  Walter, however, makes an appearance at least bi-weekly.  And in the oddest of ways.

Typically, Walter arrives on the scene because Mabel has scooped him and given him a new ‘do. She loves Walter and can't resist him.  Ever.  Good thing he’s bright red…makes him easy to spot hanging out of her mouth.

But today Walter made a highly unusual appearance, and it struck me as downright funny. During lunch I stopped at the store for some milk. Trying to hold three gallons while wrestling the car door open, I didn’t notice anything fall out. But when I closed the door, something red caught my eye on the parking lot – as I looked down at the red puff on the ground, my first thought was, hmmm…looks like Walter. Then it hit me. Holy smokes! It IS Walter!! Suddenly I felt like Tom Hanks in Castaway when he rescued Wilson and vowed to never let him go again. And then I realized how funny the whole thing was. I snapped a pic with the phone, scooped him up and tossed him onto Aaron’s seat.

I get a kick out of Walter.

Some Bunny to Love

Despite the trauma of the hermit crab story, Victoria persists in having a small, cuddly pet all her own. And while, yes, I agree that a puppy would be ideal for the unity of our four-legged children, I just don’t think we can handle three dogs. And besides, Mabel is supposed to be Aaron and Vic’s puppy, right? Rrrriiiiiiiiiight…

Vic asked me the other day if she could have a hamster. Yuk. I now know better than to hold a pet ransom for good behavior, but there is nothing stopping me from insisting the pet be earned before it is owned. I told Vic if she met her AC Math goal this quarter that I would get her a hamster, or some other equally rodent-like critter. I decided I’d better arm myself with information, and fast!

I talked it over with my friends at work and learned that a hamster might not be ideal for my own sanity. Another co-worker suggested a bunny rabbit, and after she shared with me how gentle and easy her kids’ rabbit is, I was sold!! And it didn’t take long to convince Vic that this was a much better pet idea. In fact, in just five days Victoria brought her AC Math points up from 2 to 15. We now have a mere 5 points to go!! In celebration of the near-victory, we went to the pet store to look at bunnies on Sunday. Wow. They are so darn cute!!! We picked one out and Victoria held it for nearly 45 minutes straight. It’s love, y’all. Pure hoppy love!

We left the bunny at the pet store, with my insistence that all the math points must be earned before purchase. But I have a feeling those last 5 points will be captured within the next 24 hours, so we can bring home – are you ready for this? – Marsha Mallow Mainiero.


Sunday, May 02, 2010

I'm Just Sayin'...

One must keep in mind that no matter how much good I think I’m doing, my parenting skills can sometimes leave a lot to be desired. Case in point: today at my Mom’s house, Victoria interrupts our conversation to ask me, “Mommy, if I shake my head really, really hard and my brain gets shaken around in my head, can it kill me?"

Interesting question, as through my mind flash all the stories of shaken baby syndrome, contrasted with my friend Jill’s childhood fear that absolutely everything could cause certain death no matter the particular circumstances. So I ventured into:

“Well, let’s see. I don’t know if that could necessarily kill you just by the act of shaking your head. I have heard of instances where shaken brains caused a myriad of other problems…long-term inability to think and function for yourself being one. I seriously doubt you could shake your head hard enough to jar your brain loose on your own, but if you were trying to shake your brain loose, and shaking your head really hard, you could potentially lose your balance, fall down and hit your head on something, and that could cause you worse problems than a shaken brain. It would inevitably involve a trip to the hospital at any rate, so let’s just NOT try and do that, okay?”

As Victoria walked away from us with a dumbfounded look on her face, Mom looked at me and asked, “Geez, whatever happened to just saying ‘yes?’”