Looking for the groove

We are all two weeks into the new normal. Leif riding the bus to and home from school and me meeting him at the bus with Skadi and the three of us having afternoons together.

I want to say it is an easy transition, but it seems to be perplexing us all at times. I keep wondering when this is going to become the normal feeling, because it sure isn't yet.

I have to admit that I might be a bit of a workaholic. Not the one that works long hours. I was FAR from working a 60 hour week. Nope. I was 40 hours, but the vast majority of time a very productive 40 hours that makes me very proud.

I am very lucky that I love what I do (for the most part). I have my days... and my people... that make life far more difficult than it really should be. But for the most part I am really, really happy with my work life and well after I get home each night, my brain is still working.

I admit that the change to getting up and walking out of work 2 hours early a day isn't coming easy to me. I know it will get easier and I do think that the fiscal year end (read crazy ridiculous government rules imposed) has a lot to do with it and I am waiting until well into FY12, after October 1, before I start making any meaningful judgments.

I love, love being home with my kids in the afternoons. But I need to get better organized. I have a list of things on my phone I want to work on, need to do and dinner ideas. But somehow I get home and actually feel a touch lost. I have trouble turning work off, even when I am not checking my phone for e-mails. My brain rolls along wondering if person X is getting that presentation done, if contracts specialist Y is  talking to that vendor, if client Z is trying to get ahold of me or who is up working in the lab and if they will lock the door at the end of the day. I worry about what people will think when they hear I am not working full time - will the managers I work to impress suddenly shy away from me? Will people be reluctant to work with me because they will view me as unreliable? Or will it go largely unnoticed?

My list of things to do in the afternoons is so often errands - go return the soccer gear to the YMCA, take Leif to the doctors, take Skadi to get new glasses, go get new paint samples from Home Depot - that I just don't feel as though I have really sunk into a good routine. I think I will. Actually I know I will.

I keep eyeing the 4:30pm tennis lessons for ages 4 and up and the club... and thinking about that stack of cds I want burned onto my computer... and the photos files that I have intent to organize during my free time and not to mention my goals. I am organized in every other aspect of my life... I need to apply it to my after schools planning!

We will get there, I am sure of it. I realize that I am so very lucky to be in a position to be able to scale my hours back and not to have to rely on after school care, but I need to sink a bit more into it and the new routine.

Soul Sister

Ok yes, one of my favorite songs… Hey, Soul Sister… can I admit that here?

In the past few weeks in discussions with friends and actually online as well, we have hit on that “right person”. Who is it and how do you know?

I know my right person… my husband. We have this super marriage. A marriage that when others are in groups and venting about their significant other about all I can find to say is, “I got nothing.” (Now if they wanted to switch the topic over to work? I could so bend some ears there.)

I am lucky. Very, very lucky.

My husband supports me in everything I do. He gives me his opinion, even though I may not want it, and then he shuts up when I ask him if I asked for his opinion. We talk all the time. He has heard my stories 6832 times and I have heard his 6833 times. But we still learn from each other. We are a team and ever proud of being a family together. And I pray to God that he never finds a reason or desire to leave me.

We started dating when we were in our senior year in college, just before we each turned 22. Those first two years were rocky. We broke up a number of times. I always swore (before him) that I wouldn’t go back to a failed relationship. But something kept pulling me back each time. Then I decided to go to grad school. He followed me a few states over and by that action, I knew we were in it for the long haul, though we didn't marry for 3 years after that.

I dated a lot (read too much) in high school. I look back now and realize that I wanted someone so badly that I dated anyone who took a second glance at me. I hope I can infuse in my daughter a stronger sense of worth in herself and less of my early dependence on feeling like I was someone because I was with someone. With only a few exceptions I went from dating one person a prior weekend to having a new boyfriend the next. It wasn’t until a particularly stifling year and a half in early college that I decided I needed to be brave. I needed to be by myself for one full year. I needed to figure out who I was.

And I did it. When AB came along that senior year, I was ready.

Is he my soul mate? See I am not sure I believe in a soul mate. The whole one person for each person out there and if brought together, sparks will fly and all will be good in the world, doesn't really jive with me. And AB agrees with me.

I, in no way, believe that if the stars hadn’t aligned bringing AB to Colorado for college (because his dad decided to get his graduate degree at the same university) and then bringing me to the same university because I was dating Mr. Stifler who wanted to switch universities… or say I hadn’t put off PChem Lab that one year, maybe I decided to take it on a whim the semester prior… or say I hadn’t looked over in PChem Lab on that first day and said to myself, “OMG I so cannot be lab partners with Wayne again, I have to pounce on someone else” and AB was standing there… that we wouldn’t have been perfectly happy with someone else.

Who that someone else would have been, I have no idea.

Would I have gone on to grad school by myself and dated one of my fellow grad students? Or would I have moved along single into a job and married one of the many single (probably for a reason) nuclear physicists or engineers I worked with?

There have been other people who have come into my life that I believe, if circumstances were different, that we could have successfully made a go at it and been happy. Does that make me want to jump ship and test it out. No freaking way. I have my small list of guys in the back of my head that on a rare occasion I think back on, “if things would have been different… where would we be now?” And I think it would have been good, but I am in no way kidding myself that that list of guys is also guys that I never actually dated either.

So maybe, just maybe, I did luck out and find my soul mate. I don't know. But I look forward to spending the rest of my life with that fabulous man that is driving our children up the street right now as I sit here typing.

Domestication?

This week there have been a lot of changes in the house. I have spent my week resisting the urge to fill in the space. The beloved space. The space I have craved for months... yes, actually years.

Years ago when Leif was little I said it was my goal to reduce my hours once he left our quiet peaceful private school for the hustle and bustle of the public school. I remember once my mother in law made the statement - "it is best to work when the kids are little, be home in the afternoons when the kids get older and can get in more trouble". That spoke to me way back when. And so it became my goal to reduce my hours to be home when they headed out into the world.

This week that goal was realized. On Tuesday, the first day of school, I sent my boy off on the big bus. He quickly friended a 4th grade girl who according to her mom, "loves to mother" and miracles of all miracles, he has made it successfully to school AND home every day so far this week! (Knock on wood.)

And so at 3pm when I am at work, or in a meeting, I have packed my things up, stood up and walked out.

With my managers concurrence of course.

I have to admit it has been a very weird feeling as quite often I am one of the last ones left in my hallway. Not because I work long hours, but because everyone else manages to get in WAY before me. Now I get in later than them, and I leave early. At least Monday through Thursday. Friday's AB is off and so it is his day to field the kids while I get to have my long day at work.

I tell you what, those two hours less at work are noticeable! My day seems so short. I feel that I have just enough time to get done what I need to get done. Anything extra? Well that is for Fridays. I actually love Fridays at work. It is often very quiet and I usually have a last burst of energy before the weekend to plow through my lists. Monday then becomes my busy day as everyone works off my productivity the day before the weekend.

I get home and those 2 hours at home make a world of difference. I can get settled in, go meet the bus, pick up the house, unload the dishwasher, make dinner...

Our Wednesday night pick up night? Nonexistent. Because by dinner time, my house is picked up and ready for the Thursday housecleaner. Yay me! Domestication?

I expect the downside is that my husband will gain weight since I have actual time to cook stuff... like manicotti (last night) instead of just throw together whatever is in the fridge.

The extra time I have in the afternoons affords a lot more flexibility for the family. Easier to get out for a walk in the evenings. Easier for my husband to justify time at the gym since he doesn't have to help me come home and scramble.

One other advantage? My daughter will spend less time at preschool a day, hopefully resulting in fewer opportunities for her to lose random privileges at school. Well, I can hope at least!

I am oh so tempted to add swimming, or gymnastics, or tennis lessons (just saw that option in the court club's newsletter) for the kids. But no. I am resisting the urge for a few weeks to settle in.

But I may do myself a favor and venture to the gym... just maybe!

Huh...

Just noticed that the time stamps are wonky on my posts... apparently if I start a blog some long past day and the finish it today, the time stamp is from that long past day!

All I did last Tuesday was type in the title and first line to remind myself to blog on that topic. But it is coming up as being done last Tuesday during the day.

Ok, just had to comment on that.

Catching Up

It wouldn't be a catching up blog without me wondering where the month has gone. Yes, wasn't it just yesterday I was posting about July? And now here I am with one more day of summer camp for Leif.

My baby boy is going to the first grade! I remember the first grade... (there's a blog topic for a another day).

So us. Let's see...

AB - he's doing great. I am constantly amazed by him waking up at 4:30am every single morning - well at least Monday thru Thursday and some Fridays and going into work and working a 10 hour day. I know many people who would have walked out on that gig a long time ago.

Skadi - things are looking up for her. She was moved out of the corner and all summer long has only lost one or two privileges. She truly has been such a pleasure to be around lately. She even has started showing an interest in wearing jeans! Gasp! I still embrace the dresses for her because I don't think this will last for long and I want to enjoy the dress phase.

I ordered a pair of cute jeans for her the other day, super flare with embroidered flowers. She was so excited when they arrived. Put them on and they were too tight. Gurr. There were tears. She couldn't believe that happened and wanted them so badly to wear a pink belt with. Me? I can't believe I just ordered size 5's to replace the ill fitting ones. 5? Really?

Me - work is going well. I had posted previously about concerns with being light on work. I really should know better than to send a note to my manager and team lead before actually putting my own feelers out. Within 3 days I was back to being fully committed for the remainder of this year and the coming year. And AB cursed me - he told me this would happen - and he was right. Now I am looking at my plate and wondering if I have too much on it? Because if I am not scrambling crazy busy, I don't have enough. I sent a note to my managers the other day - please do NOT send me any work (unless you know, it is just exactly perfect for me... like this other stuff I just accepted...). Sigh.

All of this has resulted in for me a whole lot less stress. I know the source of my stress... concerns over work. I can enjoy my weekends again!

Goals? Well let's see here...

If on Friday I buy paint samples and this weekend I put them on the wall and see how they look, I think I will hit my August goal!

Probably an unpopular vent

For years AB and I have supported strongly national parks. We donate money to the parks system and believe strongly that it is an important asset.

I just have one beef.

The pet policy.


That would be the pet policy that basically says your dog should never leave your vehicle and even better - leave said dog at home.

Last weekend we went to Mt. Rainier National Park to the Sunrise Visitor's Center - a side we had never been to and man it was packed. We went to the visitor's center, found a place to take some pictures, grabbed some lunch and headed out.

You know, here, yes, I can understand a no pets please request. It was busy, the trails were packed and there was hardly room to get cars parked. We were just happy it wasn't hot in the car and were able to leave the dogs in the car.

But umm, the park is big. And we wanted to hike somewhere. And the dogs need to pee.

But nowhere that we stopped were those dogs allowed to leave our car. At each stop there was a park ranger wagging his finger and threatening hefty fines.

At one stop we thought we were over the border of the National Park and into the National Forest which does not have such pet laws.

We quickly found out we were 500 feet short of the National Forest boundary and those dogs could go right back into the vehicle.

And I know this will be an unpopular post because a woman standing near me went up and congratulated the ranger on his score of booting the dogs out by saying, "I just want to thank you, the GALL of some people to think they can bring their dogs ANYWHERE!" I couldn't help a quick retort to her citing the fact that it is a bit hard to know exactly where the park and forest boundary is when you are visiting a place for the first time. She, of course, glared at me fierce - but I think she was more embarrassed at being busted with a reasonable argument that she had no quick response for (not realizing *I* was with that crazy dog guy).

I get that not all pet owners are top notch. And for this, fine them. But not everyone is a bad apple! There certainly are enough rangers around to write those tickets out (and generate revenue in the meantime for the parks that we hear are starved for cash).

We found the invisible line separating park from forest and got out and set about a hike, where the trail was packed with dogs at every turn. Dogs not allowed just 500 feet away (with the same terrain and same views).

We love to travel. We love the parks. We love our long weekend adventures. We love hiking. We love our dogs. It makes me sad that this all can't be combined.

I am planning for a Yellowstone trip next spring break and already trying to figure out what the path forward will be with our dogs... who normally travel with us.

Summer of Fun

I hope that some day Leif looks back and relishes his first real summer outside of full time school/care. To this point Leif's summers have beeen about the same as his winters, work and playtime at his Montessori school. This year, things have been different...

There was robot racing...

And even some robot Sumo wrestling in August.

I wish *I* would have had a summer of camps!

He has learned a lot of lessons though throughout the summer...

• like the necessity of keeping track of ones things... (one wallet lost, goggles lost...)
  


• and that while it is good to be generous, that buying other people food results in first not having money for lunch, and second offense resulted in it coming out of his money and then tears.
  


• that nothing comes for free. That when the concession stand at the club asks for his name after ordering a Super Nachos, a drink, a snocone, a smoothie and a push up, that it goes to mom and dad's account.
  


• that mom and dad DO find out everything.
  


• that it is possible to get tired of all the fun things after awhile.

Ah well. A new world awaits him (and us) a week from today when I put my baby boy on the school bus.

And I will resist in following the bus to the school to make sure everything goes ok.

Love my Beaner

Me: "Hmm, the instructions are in Chinese."

Skadi: "Let me have it, I read Chinese."

(I hand her the instructions.)

Skadi: "It says this is a remote control car and it needs batteries."

---------

Time for bed.

Skadi: "Mommy, I am going to put you to bed tonight. Lay down your head here."

She rubs my head and sings me a lullaby that she made up very softly and sweetly.

Skadi: "If your hands are dirty, wash them. If your clothes are dirty, wash them." (Repeat 23 times.)

Skadi: "Mommy, you are the best mommy ever." Rolls over and falls asleep.

Me? Luckiest mom ever.

Shoe Girl Status in Question

Skadi loves her Keens. She has since she was a baby and she was just learning to walk in the summer after she turned one.

We each have our preferences, and while I want really badly to love Keens, they just don’t fit my feet well. Though I am thinking I might need to try their boots… maybe those would be better? Or maybe I am just sucked into thinking that by their adorable-ness…

Anyways, every year Skadi has had pink or purple Keens. Sandals or shoes. I asked Skadi earlier this summer what kind of shoes she wanted for the fall (in case I happened upon some clearance options) and she told me, “shoes like these” (pointing to her pink Keen sandals on her feet) “that don’t have have holes in them”.

Gee… there is a surprise… shoes like she has had for the last three years.

But then a few weeks ago she found an old pair of Leif’s Keens. His only pair. And Leif, like me, didn’t care for them on. They are brown size 10’s, the size she will need for the fall.

And Skadi has latched onto them. Her dad has latched onto Skadi loving them and 9 times out of 10 when dad is getting her ready in the morning those brown Keens grace her feet.

Can I be honest? I cringe a little. I know I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t cringe at my daughter wearing brown “boy shoes”. She is pink and frilly in everything else she does in life, a little bit of ordinary brown shoes won’t change that special something about her. Right?

I keep reminding myself that it is $50 saved. And that if one day this fall she adamantly decides that she doesn’t want the brown shoes anymore, we CAN go get her a pair of pink cute Keens.

Still though… this drastic out of character move of my daughter’s to latch onto something so… so… brown… and ordinary… just perplexes me.

And makes me a bit concerned about her status as a "shoe girl".

Well shack.

Leif is picking up "new" words this summer at summer camps. Skadi's new favorite movie is "Ramona and Beezus" and "guts" has been about the speed of Leif's naughty words to this point.

A few weeks ago this happened:

Leif: "Skadi get in the water and don't be a chicken shack."

Me: "What did you call her?"

Leif: "A chicken shack, you know."

Me: "We do not call each other chicken shacks!!"

----------

Then there was this week.

Leif: "He said the 'a' word."

Me: "What is the 'a' word? You can tell me, you won't get in trouble." (I am thinking ass, but wanted to see if he knew.)

Leif: "Shit."

Me: "Shit does not have an 'a' in it. And you are right, that is a bad word. Do you know what it means?"

Leif: "Dumb Donkey."

Me: "Uhhh..."

Ok, so maybe he did mean the "a" word?

Memories

Ever have one of those memories that triggers so much more than "oh yeah, I remember that"?

Last night Skadi was picking YouTube songs before bed and she happened upon "Bert Sings Imagination". I couldn't have told you at all what this was about - and I am a vault of knowledge with regards to Ernie and Bert. Even as the video started I didn't know what it was.

Then the singing started.



Umm yeah. I watched it with Skadi one time and it triggered such an intense memory that I immediately recalled all the words. If someone had asked me to sing "Imagination" prior to that I would have wondered if Bert really had remade John Lennon's song.

And can I just say that "Wubba wubba" still makes me giggle? And I loved at the end when the balloons came down and my sweet baby girl squealed, "It's a miracle mommy!"

Last Sunday I sat in the church that I hadn't walked into in about 18 years.

I could not have told you what the lights looked like. But when I saw those horride funky lights from the 70's... well they immediately took me back.

I did remember the wooden strips paneling the ceiling and how I used to count them and recount them. And it must be habit because when the tears were feeling imminent, and the service was droning on, I started counting them again.

I couldn't have told you 8 days ago what color the pew fabric was.

But when I saw that horrible red and purple pattern I was a child again sitting on the pew taking Butter Rum Lifesavers from my grandmother's and mom's hands.

Hangin' with the cousins

The 4th of July wasn't nearly so much fun since the closest child to my kids' age was 12. But it was a weekend of cousins under 7 for Leif's birthday!

Seriousness can only be maintained for so long.

Skadi and Hazel are always fast and inseperable friends.

Much time was spent in Signe's cabin playing dollies, putting dollies to bed, putting each other to bed, feedling the dollies...

As well as outside in the pool... with the many pool toys...

And on the trampoline...

Happy 7th Birthday Leif!

Seven just seems so much bigger than six. At six, I could still get away with saying "little boy". But at seven? I am just not sure that seven is little anymore. He no longer asks for toys really... except ok a Nerf gun picked out by his sister WAS really cool...

he wants big kid stuff... like Donkey Kong Country Wii...

and Super Mario Brothers v. 63. Or it seems like they should be on v. 63 since I remember Super Mario Brothers from when I was a kid...

The nice fishing pole from grandpa Perry was MUCH appreciated...

This year Leif decided that he wanted two things - to go to the cabin for his birthday to see his cousins from Boston...

and then a sleepover with three of his friends also "gamers" to play Wii all night, with no parents and no girls allowed.

Leif had requested a three layer chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and a cherry on top. No problem, I thought. Then I took the three round layers out of the oven and Leif looked dismayed, "why are they the same size?" Turns out he wanted a three tier chocolate cake, like a wedding cake with a cherry on top.

Well a knife works wonders... and then *I* got to munch on cake before the actual party.

The other thing that is very important to have when you are seven years old is trick candles!

Because everyone wants their cake covered in spit from the effort taken for blowing out candles for 5 minutes...

Happy 7th birthday Leif!

Hello August

This summer is flying. I am sure I say this every single summer, but this summer I really, really mean it.

So many things change, yet so many stay the same. Leif still has "threaky" things that happen to him and Skadi still bonks her "twohead".

We are into the last few weeks before school starts. We went school supply shopping and if I can make things difficult, I do. So they specify a "pink pearl" eraser but a "tub of sanitizer wipes"? Umm help? And why the two boxes of 24 ct Crayolas? Why not one of the bigger boxes?

Leif has a week of Robot Camp and then two last weeks of Adventure Camp and then blammo. First grade in public school.

I am the one freaked out.

Part of the reason we pulled Leif out a bit early from his Montessori school was to give him a bit more confidence before the big switch to public school. This summer has certainly done that more so than AB or I ever expected. Leif has done extremely well this summer in his variety of activities. But as the summer winds down, he is ready for a bit of calm. He has declared he is tired of field trips and just wants to sit down and watch a movie.

Up until this past week Leif has been overly thrilled with Adeventure Camp and no worries on our part. Until this week. This past week we have had a set of firsts for him. Both that resulted in calls to the Adventure Camp he is enrolled in. First blistering sunburn. By the time I was seven I had a handful of these and while it sucked to be in the pain, it was just kind of something that happened once or twice a year. Not so in 2011. The counselor DID apply sunscreen, I do believe her and Leif says she did. But for some reason it just didn’t work and his poor shoulders are blistered and peeling. The counselor felt horrible about it. The rest of this week we became proactive with the use of sunscreen AND a rash guard.

And the second issue was bullying. Severe in that the other child is being removed from Adventure Camp. I wouldn’t have known about it as Leif rarely talks about his day even with proding (except to tell us about his successes at poison ball or dodgeball), but the other night I went in to dig out a rash guard from his dresser well after he was supposed to be asleep. Instead of sleeping he was in bed sobbing.

Leif talked fairly easily with me about the situation, an older “mean” boy had told him that if he didn’t bring in some of his Star Wars legos guys for him that he was going to make up something to tell on him and he would have to go to Roberta’s office. Leif is a pretty by the rules kid, the thought of “going to Roberta’s” filled him with fear and tears and he didn’t know what to do. After I got him calmed down and reassured him that no, he was not taking in his Star Wars guys to the boy and that *I* would be talking to Roberta, he fell quickly asleep. It was an easy conversation with Roberta where she informed me that this was the straw that broke the camel’s back with this boy and that they do not tolerate bullying at all. Still it has taken a bit to convince Leif to go back to Adventure Club. He is afraid. And this makes me sad. A break for Robot camp next week is exactly what he needs. Then the week after he will go back to Adventure Camp, but with one of his best friends in the world with him.

And I do have to admit that as a mom of a daughter who tends to be on the edge of being a troublemaker and who has walked a line with getting booted from daycare and preschool, I do feel for the other parents of the child. I no longer believe, like I did when Leif was young, that “if the parents just did X, Y or Z, the problem would be solved”.

Skadi has been doing a bit better though. The summer started out rough with her being confined to the corner for work time. Apparently this has worked though and while I was fearing her being in the corner all year, she is being moved out and to a desk. She declared to me a few weeks ago, “I finally know what I am supposed to be doing every day!” We have only been telling her to do her works and quit bothering others for weeks, it finally sank in. Whew.

AB and I are doing fine. Our jobs are “ehh”. It is a tough time working where I work. I have my time covered through the end of the fiscal year, but after that it gets a bit sketchy. I have a list of four projects and normally four projects would have me thrilled – except that each one will only cover about 10-15% of my time. I have a bit of stretching to do to get to my newly declared 85% time. Monday through Thursday I will leave at 3pm. Then Fridays I will work a longer day since AB is off on Fridays. I am looking forward to testing this routine out as long as I can pick up a few other things to successfully cover my time fully.

AB is fine with his job, though not thrilled. I am wondering if both of us have a case of “the grass is always greener”. We are debating the merits of seeing what else is out there… in one instance there has to be something better, in the next we realize how good we have it here.

I am really looking forward to my August goals. Actually, let’s just make it August-September goals. August is looking so busy, but I do want to get started.

New flooring for the downstairs! We have nasty carpet in the dining room, office and living room. Hardwood here we come. Of course this is mostly AB’s job once I select the perfect shades of not only flooring, but paint!

Yes, back to paint color selections!

I actually think I have a good handle on what I want this time around based off my recent success with the small bathroom off the foyer.

My biggest issue is going to be scraping the time together for this. We have two busy weekends coming up, followed by a camping trip, then the weekend before school, followed by Labor Day camping trip and then soccer swings up again.

So there it is. A catch up post, goals and what’s to come for this late summer.

Definitions Time - Bejeezus

Me: "Leif, you scare the bejesus out of me sometimes!"

Leif: "You have Jesus's in you that are leaving?"

Me: "No, bejesus."

Leif: "What is that?"

Me: "Ummm... ummm... ummm..."

Leif: "Is it like your taste buds?"

Me: "Ok sure, like your taste buds."

Leif: "I am going to scare your taste buds out of you!!"

Coach Nuclear Mom?

I am always pushing my poor husband to coach sports teams. He actually does pretty well at it and despite his complaining I am SURE that he enjoys it.

Now that we have two children that are team sports ages it is hard to balance the obligations that team sports bring. It is easier when only one child wants to play a sport, but when they both want to... just scary.

With the YMCA sports, I like that the practices and games during the summer are actually during the week leaving weekends open. However, there is a huge demand for teams and always wait lists for the sports. You often end up taking what you can get as a parent. Two kids and you are potentially looking at 4 nights of sports a week!

Now if you are a volunteer coach... things loosen up substantially!

This was my thought. AB coaches Leif's soccer team, I coach Skadi's and between us we coordinate the practices and games. This has actually worked out quite successfully and we ended up with a number of other siblings on our teams as well as parents who have suddenly clung to us with frequent statements and e-mails of "let's do this again, let us know when you are coaching other teams!"

But can I just say that I am just not a natural coach?

Nope. Really not.

Of course my age group (3-4 year olds) makes my role feel substantially more like "preschool teacher" or "cat herder" or "zoo keeper" than "coach".

My husband gets to maintain the coach title. Not me.

Luckily I went into this with an enthusiastic co-coach who has not only picked up my slack but run with it and has had incredible commitment to the team and quite possibly more natural preschool teacher/cat herder/zoo keeper in him than I do.

I have complained a few times about parents on sports teams and I am quite sure that at least on one occasion, my husband was viewed as "one of those parents".

One more week left and really it was fun. Do it again? Unlikely. I am happy to think that my son is getting to the age and ability that his next coach needs to be someone with more than recreational commitment, which means that AB is already talking about coaching Skadi's team. Which means I should be off the hook, right??

Here are my issues...

First off I suck at Arts and Crafts and cutey things. What does this have to do with soccer? In baseball the coach (also a kindergarten teacher...) had cute little foam seat pads for the kids to sit on and every time she brought snacks it had pencils and ribbons and fancy name writing. Little pails for the kids all decorated at the end of the season.

Me? I have intentions... but I secretly comfort myself knowing that the baseball pail is lying at the bottom of he toy box stripped of its decorations...

The parents. Seriously parents. I am not your babysitter. When your child quits running off the field for the play area? That's when you get to sit in your comfy chair in the shade sipping whatever beverage of choice you might have in your Sigg. Yes, I know, my daughter is as bad as everyone else at kicking and chasing the ball 100 yards off the field... but I am out there to chase her! When I invite the parents out on the field to help steer their kids, I am serious. As in "get out here now".

Commitments. Just my feelings I suppose, but when you commit to bringing snack, being at a game, or any other plans for the team, I expect there to be some carry through. Because really, a game without snacks at the end just really, really sucks for the kids. I gave you my cell and e-mail for a reason.

I had one parent this time around with children on each my husband's and my team. She couldn't get her children out on the field. After trying for 5 minutes each night, two nights in a row, she stated to her kids, "ok, you can either go out on the field or we can go get ice cream instead, your choice".

Umm gee, what would you choose? Any surprise that neither of the kids attended more than those two nights? But of course she signed up for snacks... for both teams... which now I get to cover... while she enjoys her ice cream...

Anyways... no it wasn't all bad. I met some terrific and fun kids. I practiced my preschool teacher skills just in case this whole Ph.D. scientist thing doesn't work out. I got out and ran with the kids. I held lots of hands on the field and was the recipient of many "flowers" from the field from my kids. I got lots of hugs. I got to play the role of "monkey bars" for the kids. My kids got to win (frequently thanks to one little Beckham on my team).

Naw, it wasn't all bad. Afterall, its making it an experience for the kids.

(Maybe my tags should be a hint... when I type "Coach" in I get "purse"...)

Etiquette

Me: "Leif this afternoon when Auntie Melissa gave you a gift, I wasn't happy with the way you said, 'oh, I hope it is a Wii game!' That is impolite and can make the other person feel bad."

Leif: (Looking at me blankly.) "But I liked the book a lot mom!"

Me: "I know. But ok, think of it this way, if you drew me a special picture and wrapped it up and gave it to me because you knew I would like it and I said, 'oh, I hope it is a diamond ring!' How would you feel?"

Leif: "Bad."

Me: "See what I mean. You can hurt someone's feelings by assuming the gift is something that it isn't."

Leif: "But what if it was a drawing of a diamond ring?"

Sigh.
Leif"

Well Uff-Da

This morning the phone rang. It was one of my uncles. I don't hear from my mom's brothers except in times of crises. I knew what the phone call was about. As did my sister who received a similar call and immediately assumed the worst.

My 87 year old grandmother, Shirley Jeanne Perchert Walker, passed away last night.

Over the last year my grandmother was diagnosed with Alzheimers, moved into a full time care facility, had three major surgeries (broken femur, blood infection and colon resection) and we all knew we were losing her both mentally and physically.

My grandmother was born in 1923 in Cooperstown, North Dakota to Hanna and Albert Perchert. She had two older brothers: Dale and Albert Jr (Bud) (both deceased when I was in my teens and early 20's). Copperstown was a very, very small Norwegian farming community where she claimed being related to half the town. She grew up on a farm through the Great Depression where as she put it, they didn't have much, but they had food. They did better than much of the rest of the US during this time. My great grandmother had three younger children later - Charles (Chucky), Naomi and Bonnie - all of whom are still living.

While my grandmother was in high school she also taught school and once graduated she went to teach full time "until she found a husband". About that time, my great grandparents decided to give up the farming life and took the younger three children to the Bay area. My uncle Dale took over the farm and remained close with my grandmother. Uncle Bud moved to California and I am in contact with his daughter Mickey on a somewhat regular basis. The younger siblings I only knew in passing. I got to know Chucky when we lived in Reno and he lived and worked nearby.

After a year or so of teaching high school my grandmother decided to enroll in the Army Nurse Cadet program and she was sent to Spokane, WA for her training at Deaconess Hospital.

As I grew older my grandmother would tell me how they were "the wild bunch" at Deaconess and how she and her roommate had one of the only rooms with a window and they used to sneak their girlfriends in and out of the room to meet the soldiers stationed at the base up near Spokane.

My grandmother spent time in LaGrande, OR doing her nurses training as well. She was nearing the day to be shipped overseas when the announcement came that the war was over.

My grandmother packed up and moved to Seattle, WA where she worked in a hospital. She took up flirting with an ambulance driver who relieved the elevator operator for his lunch. My grandmother tells of making excuses to ride up and down the elevator to be with the man who was nearly 15 years her senior.

The story between Seattle to Casper, WY is foggy. She at one point admitted to me that she left Seattle for Casper when she was pregnant (unmarried) and didn't know what to do. The man she had met in the elevator wasn't sure what he wanted to do and was not supportive of the pregnancy. She up and left and arrived in Casper, WY and moved in with a girl she knew from nurses training, started working at the local hospital and started attending the Seventh Day Adventist church.

A few months Eugene Lemuel Walker showed up. There was a wedding. And a few months later my uncle David was born.

My grandfather was born in backwoods Arkansas to a native American woman named Rose Hawk in the early part of the century. He managed to attend school through the second grade.

He had done odd jobs throughout his life to this point and decided that he would attend barber school. The school requested his transcript and he lied, telling them the school burnt down. He went to barber school, opened a barber shop in downtown Casper where he worked as long as his health allowed him. During the last 10 years of his life he was largely confined to the house and struggled with heart and lung problems and not to mention diabetes. He passed away in 1985.

Jeanne and Eugene had four children; David, Michael, Barbara and Robert. It was a volatile family life with alcoholism and lots of yelling. My grandparents had warm, but hard hearts. I used to play Yahtzee with my grandmother, we would sit at the kitchen table and she had this old yellow plastic cup she would roll her dice with. And she would shake and shake that cup. Then my grandfather would start yelling, "think you need to roll those God-damned any louder?" And my grandmother would grin. And her next turn she would shake them even louder and longer. Then my grandfather would start cussing under his breath. When someone bought my grandmother a padded dice cup it was supposed to heal the marriage.

My Yahtzee experiences I expect were only the tip of the iceburg with their 40-some year marriage, but said so much about those 40 years.

My grandmother worked nights as a nurse at the hospital and my grandfather was a barber.

In 1972 her first grandchild was born. That would be me.

I spent days with my grandmother while my mom attended the community college to get her AA degree. My grandmother and I were fast friends. Best of buddies. I spent loads of time at her house growing up. We had all our holidays together. She was my Bonka.

My grandmother was never one to smooth things over. She didn't hide her feelings or thoughts. And many people were hurt from this. Many family members. My grandmother told me one day, "people try to pretend like it isn't true, but your first is always your favorite. My first child was my favorite and my first grandchild was my favorite." She didn't have to say this, we all knew it was true, unfortunately. She tuned out with my little sister and her oldest son could do no wrong, but the other three struggled to live up despite one going to medical school and one becoming a small business owner of a contract research lab doing research for the giant firms. In this regard, I feel sorry for my grandmother, because she failed to look beyond her feelings to discover the beauty of the other children and adults in the family. I worked so hard to make up for her shortcomings with my sister, but I was hiding nothing from her.

I find it interesting that my sister was the one that was really thoroughly left on the sidelines with regards to my grandmother, but in the last year, my sister is the one who saw her most as she went to the home and visited her regularly in every hospital. I want to say I would have done the same thing in her shoes... but I admit I have not taken those steps with my father's mom.

My grandmother was a bull in the china shop. She was an excellent nurse and retired a few years after my grandfather died. She held her achievements as a nurse close to her heart. One of her favorite possessions, which is now in my possession, was her years of service pins from the hospital. When the hospital started putting computers at the stations, she switched from nursing to serving as a Pink Lady and she was incredibly proud of her volunteer service and built her hours of service with pride.

My grandmother took my sister and I on our first plane ride when I was in the 4th grade and my sister in 1st grade to North Dakota to meet her extended family. When I was 13, she took us to Disneyland. And when we moved to Colorado she drove the 4 hours up and back on I-25 regularly to be there for every major event.

My grandmother was one of my biggest advocates. When I was a little girl I said that I wanted to be a nurse when I grew up, she replied, "no, you don't want to be a nurse, you will be a doctor". When I decided to go to grad school instead of medical school she was not happy with me.

She lived in her home (in one of the worst parts of Casper, which I should also blog about how they bought this home) until she was 85 years old. Two years ago we convinced her to go and live with David in Denver, he needed her as his health was declining. Everyone hoped it would be to their mutual benefit. As she lived there, David started realizing how poor off she really was. Her mental capacity was declining rapidly and as a consequence of this her finances needed serious interference.

Shortly thereafter she was diagnosed with mild Alzheimers about the same time my mother was diagnosed with liver cancer. This became a very difficult time for the both of them. My mom still harbored a lot of animosity that had never played out between she and my grandmother and tried to balance it with the fact that she was fighting for her life and still felt that she needed her mom to be there. My grandmother started having animosity because my mom wasn't there, she wasn't the one stepping up to help care for her and in her Alzheimers state, was not realizing that there were other things at play here. A liftime of difficult communication was coming to head.

My grandmother was eventually moved from my uncles house when he finally admitted he could not care for her, into an assisted living home where she had her own apartment. This was short lived when it was realized by the assisted living personnel that she needed substantially more than they could offer her, particularly after she broke her leg. She was moved into nursing home and quickly forgot about thoughts of going home.

We all went up to Casper and cleaned out her house - ok, some more than others cleaned - I went up and went through items taking a few boxfuls of things. The house sold a few months later.

Her health started rapidly declining, but she spoke regularly about how she loved the home, how good to her the staff was, and such. This was amazing to me, I never thought she would be happy with such a living situation. What angels.

Last week I received an e-mail from my uncle indicating that once again she was in the hospital and had undergone emergency surgery to remove a portion of her colon that had died. I spoke to her on the phone and it was so difficult to understand her, but her regular humor was still there.

I decided to make plans to go see her in the next 6-8 weeks, once she got out of the hospital. Unfortunately that wasn't to be. The last time I saw her was the day the kids, AB and I went to see her before celebrating my mom's life. We explained the situation that she had passed away and I held her tiny bony frame as she sobbed that it should have been her. Then as typical with Alzheimers patients, the minute lunch was mentioned she was off on a new topic and quickly forgot. Then during lunch she asked, "so how is your mother doing?"

I have many many funny and happy stories of my grandmother. She was one of my biggest fans and me one of hers. While I am sad that she has departed, I am happy that it was quiet, in her sleep, that she was lucky enough to have 87 years under her belt, had lived through so many fantastic times and accomplished so much for a woman in her lifetime (attaining her bachelor's degree in science). Living without memories is no way to live. She is truly in a better place now.

4th of July at the Cabin

Strolling the beach.

Every trip to Shelton has to have a trip to see Cecil.

The neighborhood friendly Harbor seal has gotten awfully used to us. He doesn't budge when we paddle up right next to him. Seriously, *I* was the one getting freaked out here.

Skadi was determined to catch fish for dinner.

But she only kept turning up these jellyfish.

The kids were freaked out by them, but AB notsomuch.

Fishergirl.

Ok, this guy, we will be freaked out a bit by. He was a BIG jellyfish. Nets out of the water.

Where did my baby girl go?

Missing, one baby girl. Seems to have been replaced by a big girl.

Best Purchase Ever

The past few years AB and I have debated and studied RVs. (Yes, my 16 year old self is so laughing at me right now.) We finally honed in on a travel trailer and after another year or so decided what we wanted... queen bed (preferably with a separation wall), bunks and preferably four seasons since we had hopes at the time of using it year round... or at least 3 seasons of the year. This May we happened upon a lesser known brand at a great price (similar to what we were going to pay for a used version) and pounced.

We worried... were we going to suffer buyer's regret? Will we really use it? Will we LIKE it?



Four trips out later and we are sold. We love it. We use it. And no buyer's regret.

The step stool is there for the kids to access the bunk. Bathroom behind the door.

Leif gets the top bunk and loves it. Skadi is less enthused with the bunks for some reason. I am wondering if she isn't a bit clautrophobic. But after a few trips out and her waking and screaming all throughout the nights we gave in and put her on the fold out sofa. It pretty much never gets folded in actually as the kids like it out and it is more comfortable that way.

Yep, we are all quite sold on our new purchase. We enjoy having the place to sleep indoors, the heater when needed and the AC when needed. So far we have mostly dry camped, which has its own learning curve. But we have it pretty well mastered so far. The generator that AB purchased gives us an extra bit of insurance.

But best of all it has enabled trips that created memories for the kids like the ones below:

Leif's Rainbow Salmon... or Trout... whichever it is...

Still Leif's rainbow trout... but Skadi wanted a picture holding it.

Hiking and playing with the slugs.

More fishing...

Everyone loves fishing.

Even "Girl Grover" loves fishing!

July

July

How can it be July already? Do I ask this every month? Why do the months just keep going faster and faster?

So my June goals were pretty much a complete bust. But I am going to blame money there.

I wanted to find something to organize my jewelry. I found a cute jewelry hanger to mount on the wall, went to go buy it and found out it was no longer in stock. And the thing is I want a wall hanging one. I have some long necklaces and I don’t want to devote the counter space. Wall mount only.

This caveat has made procuring the right system difficult. I actually found a few, but they were freaky expensive. Like $140 expensive. And I just have a horrible time committing about what I would spend on a good pair of shoes for some wire thing to hang my jewelry by. I may just resort to an 8 pack box of those Command hooks and keep my earring system as is – as in little votive holders next to my bed and on my bathroom counter. Or at least until I find something new and acceptable.

My quilt is pretty much ready to go to the long arm shop. Except that committing $200 to this endeavor, while easier to swallow than the $140 jewelry holder, is just not as pressing for some reason. I have it ready to go… and when I have an extra $200 sitting around… it will be first on deck. (And umm no, this having an extra $200 sitting around does NOT happen regularly.)

So July. Hello July.

July is going to be my month of not spending ANYTHING on my monthly goals. Yes, I have become freaky about spending money. I am tired of it. I mean, I want the stuff that results from it, but I am tired of not having it.

We have been gone – out camping usually – about every other weekend since early May. Yay us! We are using our trailer and loving it. Happy days! Except that those weekends at home are all about recovery. Mountains of laundry, groceries, fitting in everything else basically.

Our next trip isn’t until July 29th when we head back over to the cabin so the kids can hang with their Boston cousins for a weekend.

Three whole weekends! Three whole weekends with no soccer (soccer is during the week in the summer), no swimming lessons, no excuses. And on one of them – no AB! He is going to Minnesota for a friend’s wedding and we decided that in the goal of saving money, that he would venture on his own. That gives me a whole weekend of not compromising! Of course it also gives me a whole weekend of single parenting…

With busy weekends and soccer two nights a week, I have fallen seriously behind in getting stuff done around the house. I have flat surfaces with just stacks of papers to be sorted, filed, shredded, tossed, etc. I have piles to go to Goodwill. I have piles of stuff to think about listing for sale. The kids’ closets are rapidly descending somewhere ugly. And my daughter’s hair accessory drawers has taken on a life of their own. Oh and did I mention I have a guest room? Yeah, it is hidden somewhere behind a stack of stuff.

Organization.

And planning for the future. I want to get some plans for our outdoor kitchen/patio going (maybe even contacting an architect for some ideas… if I can get AB on board there). I want to start thinking about this fall’s project – hardwood flooring in the front office and dining room (along with paint).

July is all about taking control of the clutter and planning for the remaining half year.

Foodie Inspirations

One of my old issues of Bon Appetit (it is an older issue as I have no time to read it anymore it seems) had a section on defining food moments. What, in your lifetime, was your defining food moment or moments? That point where food became more than just sustenance? Where food became intriguing? What helped you define yourself further from being a mere consumer?

Ok, so those last three are my spin on the question since in Bon Appetit it was posed to a bunch of chefs. And I am not a chef – but I think the question is still relevant.

I was always a horribly picky child. Horribly. I rarely tried anything new and I preferred bland food. I ate mild salsa. And I dipped my chip carefully so as to not get any chunks on my chip, then I would shake it so I didn’t get too much salsa. Seriously.

Wow have I come a long way.

I recall a few food defining moments…

The first one that pops to mind was when I started dating a guy in my freshman year of college. He had a bit of hippy to him and had worked in kitchens throughout Northern Colorado. In that nearly two years we dated, he taught me to cook. Really cook, as in not food preparation for mere sustenance. We ate at some fabulous restaurants and cooked great food and used it as an excuse to gather with friends.

When we were first starting to date he took me to El Chapultapec in downtown Denver and we ordered green chili. I was still picky, but despite my fear, I wasn’t going to let it show.

I took one bite of my steaming bowlful of green chili in front of me and I started to cry. It burned. It hit my tastebuds. It paralyzed my taste buds. I gagged. I gulped water. I cried some more.

And then I went back for more.

It was delicious and had flavors I never knew existed.

I am positive I permanently maimed my taste buds that evening. But it was a good thing.

My second food defining moment was when I was new in my job out of grad school. AB and I were invited to go have Thanksgiving dinner with one of my managers. It was one of the first times that we either weren’t traveling to Colorado to be with my family, or weren’t hosting ourselves. We felt a bit out of sorts about eating at someone else’s house for Thanksgiving, but we embraced it.

Dinner was very traditional and good. But everyone was so excited for dessert – pie! I knew I could embrace this. I love pie. Pie is my family’s way of doing dessert. I had eaten pie since I was a child and there is NO other way to finish up Thanksgiving dinner. Pie is what Thanksgiving is all about to me. I could care less about turkey usually. But pie? Yum. So when the manager told me a week in advance that pie was their centerpiece for the meal, I knew this would go over well.

Once there though, my perceptions changed. Then I was a bit horrified.

My hosts pulled out a few boxes out of the freezer and tossed frozen pies into the oven.

They pulled the pies out later and everyone ooh’d and aah’d over the pies.

I tried not to turn up my nose. I took a piece.

Then I went home and vowed to learn to make pie crust. To this point I had accepted that I was not a pie crust maker and relied on eating my mom’s pies. Only occasionally attempting pie myself and dealing with the fact that I had tough ugly crusts.

A year or so later I had mastered pie crust and resolved to never ever ever be forced to eat frozen box pies for Thanksgiving dinner ever again.

My pie crusts may not be pretty, but I can crank the pies out with ease.

The perils of a child's increased awareness of his surroundings...

The setting: Leif and I in some skuzzy male/female gas station bathroom on the way back from the coast. Normally I let him go in by himself, but I hesitated here and went in with him.

Leif: “Look mom, you can buy stuff in here!” (Pointing to the questionable dispenser on the wall.)

Me: “Yep.”

Leif: “It costs 50 cents mom.”

Me: “Yep.”

Leif: “It looks like it is a fun game mom, see it says ‘Fun’ on it!”

Me: “Oh yeah, I bet it is a lot of fun.”

Leif: “Do you have 50 cents mom? I want one of those games.”

Me: “No.”

Leif: “But it says it is fun mom.”

Me: “Those are just for adults.”

Leif: “Why would they put fun games to buy in the bathrooms that are just for adults mom? That just doesn’t make sense.”

Me: “Nope, it doesn’t make any sense at all, you are right. Let’s hurry and go.”

Social Styles Redux

Back when Leif was little, I was pulled into a program at work where one of the courses that I took was Social Styles. I remember watching the descriptions of the styles, reading the descriptions of the styles and yes (because these classes are ALL about repetition) then hearing about the styles. And I knew I was an analytical. And I blogged a lot about it here, just search Social Style on this blog.

Ask vs. Tell?

Ask. Easy. I never TELL anyone what to do, I ask them to do it. And I get into humongous trouble doing what comes naturally to me with my kids. I can ask my kids to get their shoes on 572 times, but I only have to tell them to get their shoes on 43 times. See? There is a benefit to being more direct.

Task vs. People?

Task. Easy. I am not a people person, I struggle (since I was a kid) with eye contact, but have worked really really hard at that over the years. I prefer to hide in my office and I don’t feed off of people interactions. Oftentimes they make me nervous.

Ask + Tell = Analytical

No surprise.

What happened then was they subdivided the quadrant and lo and behold I was shoved even further out there – Analytical Analytical.

Oh and my versatility score? Abysmal.

Over the last few years I have worked on my style. Yes, I could sit and push my way, taking forever to make a decision, waiting until I had ALL the facts. Or I could try and learn from the class.

Flash forward 6 years later and while in another program I was given an opportunity to take the class again. I jumped on it hoping to have increased my versatility and see if I am really, really that bad. I mean, I know I am Analytical, but I am not *that* Analytical, right?

Right.

Because this time, I came out to be a medium versatile Amiable. That would be Ask + People = Amiable.

Amiable? Me?

I have struggled with this diagnosis nearly as hard as I struggled with labeled Analytical Analytical. I am so not Amiable.

So how did I get there? It is funny actually because the first time around I had only 3 respondents (you are supposed to have 5) and they were each from far ends of the spectrum themselves. Well duh, compared to those two Expressives and that Driver, of course I would be viewed as the far end of Analytical. That’s it, it was my respondents fault!

So this time around I carefully selected my respondents making sure to hit all the social styles. Everyone I selected I have known pretty well for the last three years at least.

So, larger pool, better statistics. People who know me better, better precision. All this makes for good accuracy, right?

Except that I don’t feel it. Not at all.

Ok, well there was that day at Home Depot…

Back Up Behaviors… an Amiable when pushed will acquiesce. Pushed further will attack. Even further you have avoid. And push them to their limit and they become autocratic.

At Home Depot with AB…

“Fine do whatever you want.”

“You never listen to me, you want my input, but you don’t listen and you do whatever you want anyway. I don’t know why I am here. This is ridiculous.”

“I am going to go get the paint now.”

“Ok I am back and this is how we are going to do it and that is final.”

Acquiesce, Attack, Avoid, Autocratic.

Point taken.

And further understanding as to how I routinely end up getting my way… my husband is a Driver and his back up behavior is opposite of mine… Autocratic, Avoid, Attack and finally Acquiesce.

And now that I have realized this I can use it to my full advantage... right?

Are all boys like this?

Me: "Leif get off the computer and come talk to me."

Leif: "What?"

Me: "What did you do today?"

Leif: "Nothing."

Me: "Did you go to the library?"

Leif: "Yes."

Me: "What did you do there?"

Leif: "Like nothing."

Me: "Did you look at books?"

Leif: "No."

Me: "Did you walk around?"

Leif: "No."

Me: "What did you do then?"

Leif: "I told you, nothing!"

Me: "Did you do the Pacific Science Center Rock and Roll thing after?"

Leif: "No."

Me: "I thought that was what you were doing today. What did they have?"

Leif: "It was a park."

Me: "So what did you do at the park?"

Leif: "Talked on the phone?"

Me: "To who?"

Leif: "Everyone."

Me: "All your group?"

Leif: "Yes. I talked into it and it was loud."

Me: "Was there singing at the ROck and Roll thing?"

Leif: "No."

Me: "So all there was, was a big phone."

Leif: "Yes, at the park."

Me: "Ok, so where did you eat lunch?"

Leif: "At the park."

Me: "Did you see anyone there you knew?"

Leif: "No."

Me: "No one there you knew at all? Not a girl?"

Leif: "No."

Me: "A girl with long black hair?"

Leif: "No."

Me: "Did she hug you?"

Leif: "Nobody hugged me mom."

Me: "Well Sophia's mom said that they saw you at the park."

Leif: "They saw C, not me."

Me: "Ok, did you swim today?"

Leif: "Yes."

Me: "Did you have fun?"

Leif: "I taught C a new move on protecting herself from flying water."

Me: "Oh, ok! What else."

Leif: "Just swimming mom."

Me: "Wow, sounds like not a very fun day. Did you have a good time or should we go back to your old school?"

Leif: "NO MOM! I had a great time!"

Me: "I wouldn't know that."

Leif: "May I be excused from this now?"

Me: "Yes."

Psychoanalyze my daughter

This is Skadi's 2nd favorite YouTube right now - she requests it every night.



Discuss please.

Wasn't it just yesterday?

I know, it is so cliche. But yes, it feels like just yesterday I brought my oldest home from the hospital and now he is off wandering the streets and making his own purchases!

We could have left Leif in his school for the summer this year and moved him to public school in the fall. And it was awfully tempting. But his teacher discouraged us from this a bit and I agreed with her. Leif has always been pretty tentative about doing anything on his own.

Compare to me at 5 when I was going across the street to the park by myself, while my mom stayed home with my napping little sister. And it wasn't too long after that I was walking the three blocks to Mini Mart with a dollar in my hand to buy candy. When Leif even sees kids out doing things on his own he is worried for them.

Making the big leap to public school and riding the bus (without me)? We decided he needed a change of scenery and an opportunity to gain some self confidence to prepare for this.

I signed him up for three science camps at the local branch University as well as Adventure Club at our health club.

In two days of Adventure Camp I think he has grown amazingly.

This morning he didn't really want me to leave him there, stating, "mom, you would have lots of fun with us all day!" I know I would, I told him, but I need to go to work.

Then he hit the door of the Kid's Club Fitness Room and a few kids yelled his name and the word "dodgeball" was uttered and he was off. No time even for a kiss goodbye.

I waited anxiously all day to hear how his day went. It consisted of games and also on the schedule was a field trip to a local grocery store.

I have had to learn a lot too. I have had to trust that he will eat his lunch (fail today), get sunscreen on, knows how to use his inhaler (or at least get help) if he needs it, not lose his swimsuit, towel, goggles, etc. Then there is the whole thing with money. The girl who registered him told me that it is probably good to send him with a few bucks so that when they go on field trips that the kids can buy snacks or drinks.

The whole concept of my son having pocket money is a new one for both of us. On vacations, this hasn't been hugely successful, but probably more because AB and I haven't embraced it fully. Even when he wants to spend his money we have him hand us the money and order it online or pay for it ourselves. Leif is funny with money, he loves to have it, doesn't really want to spend it.

So today I suppose it shouldn't surprise me when he came home with treats that "he" purchased at the grocery store on the field trip, but still had his $4. He presented me with a receipt, so I was a little concerned until he finally owned up to the fact that his good friend spotted him the dollar. He frowned when I explained that he didn't need to accept money from his friend, he had his own for that purpose.

"But she wanted me to have it," he tried to convince me. (And I am not sure that I don't believe him.)

"You WILL be repaying her the dollar," I instructed much to his dismay.

A milestone of sorts... my son's first trip to the grocery store without me, with money in hand and the ability to buy whatever he wanted. (I am not sure how far "whatever" extended...)

He came home proudly holding two bags of caramels. "Look mom! TWO for $1!" he prided himself on. He also told me they were chocolate... he is in for a surprise.

He also came home talking about "Chef Boyardee".

I used to love Spaghetti-O's when I was growing up. But call me a snob... we haven't gone to that yet.

Tomorrow he is going to "Rollerena" for roller skating and I have pretty nearly given him permission to play air hockey the whole time and not skate in order to save his neck (and butt, and head, and knees, and elbows). I have taken him a few times with little success.

Last night I asked him what his favorite thing was, "dodgeball" was his quick reply. But thye do random sports (tennis, wallyball, swimming, etc., at the club) as well. I asked him tonight if he would rather go back to his Montessori school and I have never heard him scream "NO!" more vigorously. "We get to play fun games ALL day long!" And when I asked him how his day was it wasn't just a shrug - he uttered the word, "GREAT!"

Next week they are taking them to the library, a Dust Devils baseball game, the movie theater and to a gymnastics gym for play.

I am thinking maybe I should take him up on the offer to join him. First, before he gets the idea that he doesn't need me and second, because it sounds like a whole lot of fun!

Feeling the neighborhood love

Or not.

When AB and I were looking for our second home we weren't terribly particular with neighborhoods. We just wanted a nice home and really, in our part of the town, anything was open to us as we just wanted to be in the South end of the city.

When we found our house we didn't really think about the temple on the corner of a particular religious persuassion. Maybe we should have thought about that we were living in "Temple Meadows".

When I tell people where I live I can easily say, "behind the temple" and people know where we are. I have had more than one person say, "oh, are you XXX religion?" Maybe we should have known? Or maybe we were just naive.

Honestly I don't know how many of our neighbors are of that particular religion.

I believe this is partly because after just over two years in our home, we don't know our neighbors.

In our old neighborhood we knew the first names of our neighbors on each side, their kids and families up and down the street. We had two teenagers ready to babysit and knew that the guy four houses down was running for Mayor. We met and banded together to oppose construction of an apartment complex behind us as well as to request that a builder who came in to develop the last two lots in our neighborhood follow the code established (that required that 1/3 of the front of the house be in rock or brick). We were a community.

I don't get that in our new neighborhood. We know our neighbors immediately adjacent on one side alright, an elderly couple who are quite sweet and very helpful with RV and yard questions. And I know the family down from them only a little. Their kids are staggered from ours and the oldest isn't terribly interested in playing with someone 18 months younger than him and their youngest has a weird and vocal aversion to girls.

Yeah, we don't do much with them.

It isn't like we hide in our house. We walk most evenings around the neighborhood. We sit out on our patio and the kids play in the yard.

Still I feel as though the neighbors walk a wide berth.

I have wondered if it is because we aren't one of "them". (The ones who attend the temple.)

Or if we just live in an unfriendly neighborhood?

This blog has been rolling around in my head for a few months. Maybe even a year. How do I write this without whining. Or seeming like I am opposed to their religious persuassion (I think I blogged about Leif stating that Darth Vadar lived in the temple.)

Tonight kind of kicked it over that edge.

We were out for our evening walk and walked down a street that we walk maybe once or twice a month. Skadi was on her trike (as she is boycotting the bike with training wheels we were loaned), Leif was walking and the dogs were ambling along. A woman came out of her house.

AB: "Hello, what a lovely evening!"

Witch: "I don't like you or your dogs because they poop in my yard."

Umm hello to you too.

Nope. My dogs don't poop in your yard. They might walk there on occasion. But they don't poop there.

Rudeness? My neighborhood has it.