“What Are You Doing With Your Time?”, you ask.

Wow it’s been five days since the last of my little ones have left and I’m already ready for them to be back. I was actually ready on the way back from the airport because the silence in the car was deafening.

On Saturday I went on an 11 mile bike ride, to Chic-fil-A for dinner, worked at the church, and went to see My Sister’s Keeper (the feel-good movie of the year….HA!).   I haven’t read the book, but heard it was very different.  It was good, very sad of course, but good.

All in all, I’m just exercising to get ready for my tri on August 2nd, begging my mom to reload her Skype so I can see the girls, and calling everyone I’ve ever known to see if they’ll talk to me or go to a movie.  Are you by the phone?

My Guilty Pleasure

I hate to admit it, but it’s Tori and Dean.  If you don’t know what I’m talking about, you’ve been living under a rock.  It’s Tori Spelling’s series with her husband who she met on the set of a movie of the week.  He left his wife, she left her husband and they got married and had two children.  I have no idea why I’m so addicted to this, but I am.  I’m not proud.

I might like watching it so much because she’s ridiculous.  She keeps talking about how all this work is getting in the way of spending time with her family, um….welcome to the real world.  She wants to spend every waking moment with her family, and to be honest, if my husband left his wife for me, I’d be less inclined to want him to spend time away from me either.  But I’m not judging. 

I want to scream at her that all this “work” she’s getting is the reason she can live like she is and afford the nanny, the vacations, etc.  Yes, she can’t spend every waking minute with her family, try struggling for money along with not being able to spend every moment with your family. 

Then there’s all the drama with her mama that’s ridiculous.  They talk to each other through the media and the book(s) they’ve written.  So much for working things out in private; however, if they worked it out in private then there’d be nothing to watch.  I wish there was nothing to watch.  I actually wish I had the strength of my cousin Cari who can just say no.

Summertime and the Living is Easy

Everyone that knows me knows how much I love summer.  It’s going to sound awful, but my kids go to their grandparents in Oklahoma for the whole summer, and it’s my most wonderful time of the year.  First, let me say that I love my kids more than anything in this world.  People that know me know that for sure.  Second, I’m a single mom, and by summertime I’m honest in saying that I need a break.  Third, my kids would rather go hang out at the lake and get their grandparent’s attention a million times more than they would like to stay here and watch me work. 

I always say that my summer’s going to be the best one yet, my “summer of love” if you will;  but let me tell you how it really goes.  I go to dinner and catch up on movies with my friends.  I clean the house and redecorate something.  This year I’m painting my living/dining room and kitchen.   This lasts for about two weeks before I start missing my kids so much I’m annoying with how many times I call them.  I already miss them just talking about it.  I’m really just a big talker.

So I’ll try again for my “summer of love”.  It officially starts Thursday when school is finally out and the last two fly to Oklahoma.  I promise, though, that by July 9th I’ll be crying for them to come home again.  I’m nothing if not predictable.  Happy Summer!

Tell Me About Your Firsts

I was reading an article the other day talking about first times.  Not THAT “first time”, but the first time you experienced something like a really good TV show.  He was talking about shows that he liked so much that he wishes he could experience them again for the first time.  His examples were Buffy, Picket Fences, Lost, Alias.  There were 17 and I can’t remember them all, but it got me thinking.  So much so that I had trouble sleeping.

I was thinking of the first time I saw Rent on Broadway.  Sherri brought me the Rent CD when she came to visit in early 1997 and we watched the Tony’s together that same year.  I say “together”, but she was in Tulsa and I was in Denver.  We decided that night that we were going to plan a trip to New York and we did, in October of 1997.   The first tickets we got were for Rent.  I remember what I wore, the excitement I felt, where we sat, and the sadness I felt when the first song was over because we weren’t going to see it again.  We actually did see it again when we won 2nd row lottery tickets.  And even though I’ve seen it three more times when it’s been through Denver,  it will never match that first time.

Then I thought about other first times.  Again, not THAT first time, but the first time I kissed my SHM.  The first time I walked into the company where I work, 15 years ago.  I remember the excitement of working there and how much I wanted that job.  It was a big-girl job.  I remember moving to Denver 19 years ago, and the first time I drove Parker Road.  I can actually remember what everything looked like and the feeling of having no idea where I was going.  I like the feeling of trying something new, the exhilaration of it all.  Then there’s the first time I held each one of my beautiful babies.  I would love to have that over again.

There are also the first time times you don’t necessarily want to relive.  The first time I left my husband.   The first time I realized I’d never hear from my dad again. The first time I saw Titanic.  It was the theater and I was pregnant and an emotional mess.  On a lighter note, I remember the first time I saw Dumb and Dumber.  It was also in the theater and I felt dumb and dumber for paying for that (sorry, Cindi, I know you love that movie). 

What firsts do you wish you could experience again? Here’s the article so you can think about some TV shows you might want to re-experience. Mine, of course, is Grey’s Anatomy.

 

 

No Day But Today (for Updates)

I had an absolutely wonderful birthday.  Even though most of it was spent at the dress rehearsal for the recital, it was still a lot of fun. 

Saturday was the dance recital and the girls did so good.  I see the really little ones now and remember briefly that mine were that little once.  Shelby used to do a lot more of the dances, but she cut back because of middle school.  I think she wished she would have done more than the three she did, but she had a great time.  Lindsey fell at the dress rehearsal and was panicked that she’d fall again, but she didn’t.  The monkey brought his motley crew and then told Shelby he was leaving after Lindsey’s dance so I wouldn’t be uncomfortable and for her to explain it to Lindsey.  He actually left early so he didn’t have to stay for the whole three hours, but whatever.  Go peddle your lies somewhere else.

Sunday we went to church and then my mom, the older two girls and I went to see Rent.  Shelby’s been singing Rent since she was 2, but I decided that Lindsey was too young to see the musical so my mom got her ticket.  I have seen it probably 5 times including twice on Broadway, but you’re not as aware of the language until you’re sitting with your children.  Anyway, they loved it and it’s just so different seeing it live than seeing the movie.  Also, Mark and Roger were played by the original two that played them in the movie and on Broadway so that was a treat.

Sunday was also a year since my dad died.  In case you’re wondering, I haven’t dealt with it yet or I’d be in a fetal position on the floor or unable to get out of bed.  I’m pushing it down.  I feel it coming up and then I stuff it down as far as I can.  I know it’s going to come flowing out like a volcano, but I just can’t deal yet.  I have two more weeks of school and then a week’s break, and then I’m sure there will be something else to keep me from dealing with it.

My mom left this morning with my little Shelby.  Actually not so little as I demonstrated when I tried to pick her up and almost threw out my back.  I’m getting old, or she is.  The house is so quiet.  I have my last two speeches to give this week.  I have to give a 20 minute one on whatever I want and after reading over my blogs I almost did it on The Worst Hard Time, but decided I was going to do it on The Alchemist.  Even though I had a hard time getting into the book, once I did I really liked it.  Then the twist at the end was really wild.  Also, I have the audiobook that I downloaded for free on itunes so I can listen to it today while I work and take some notes.  Yes, I do always wait until the last minute.

There you go.  I only have two kids for 10 more days and then all my kids are going to be living it up in Oklahoma with my mom.  They are going to have such a good time.  Much more fun than hanging around here staring at me all day watching me work (or blog actually).  B-O-R-I-N-G.

Have You Met My Friend?

Let me preface this by saying that I have an awesome family, one member lives close and the rest live really far away.  I was feeling really lonely at one point and my sister said that sometimes it’s the family you  make that gets you through.  I didn’t really have a lot of friends at the time, and I still don’t, but now, I have the best best friend on the planet.  I long to be as good a friend to her as she is to me.  Now before you say “nuh uh, my best friend is the best”, you have to hear about my best friend. 

We met 8 years ago at work.  She started as an intern and we worked together for several months.  I’ve stated before that I don’t really like new people so I’m sure I wasn’t friendly at first, but she grew on me.  In a series of unfortunate events, she ended up doing my job and they shipped me to a department I hated.  Don’t worry, it has worked out great for me because I’m working at home now and loving every day.  If you have to work (and I do),  it might as well be in sweat pants.

We started hanging out outside of work and going to movies, we exchanged Christmas, birthdays, shared a hatred for a certain former boss, you know, the good stuff.  We went to Lake Dylan and took pictures of the frozen lake, I do love a road trip.  It’s a joke with my kids that the first time she met them, she came over after work and had dinner or hung out or something and left right before bath time.  They all went in and got ready for their bath, but ran out before she left to say good-bye.  So there they were, a 5, 3, and 1 year old standing at the screen door naked waving good-bye.  We don’t have a lot of company.

So here’s why she’s my best friend.  She’s so considerate.  She thinks of everything.  She gave the monkey the name “the monkey” (as in monkeys could do a better job than he does).  She took my kids to church every Wednesday night when I started school so they didn’t have to quit their program halfway through.  She helped me disassemble the biggest bunk bed loft you’ve ever seen and even climbed into my asbestos-filled attic.  (not really asbestos, but a lot of insulation)  Then she helped me put together another bunk bed and paint rooms.  She’s always good for manual labor.  She constantly thinks of things I forget.  She got me a care package for my cruise including snacks, trashy novel, kleenex, hand sanitizer, rag mag, etc.  Who thinks of that stuff?  She does.  

She takes my kids shopping for my birthday and Christmas so they can get me something.  She does too much, but they love her to death and it’s so special for them to be able to get me a gift.  This is something I’m going to pay forward one day because a lot of people don’t think about single moms on their b-day or Christmas and make sure they have something special from their kids.  In a married couple, the husband would typically get you something from the kids, that all stops when the divorce happens. 

Yesterday was my birthday AND the dress rehearsal for the kids’ recital.  She came and sat through the torturously long dress rehearsal, took me to TGIFridays for non-diet approved food, and then took Shelby to Target to replace the cake that was ruined.  See previous post for that story.  Oh, and the best part, she got me an “8″ and a ”1″ candle and didn’t make them say “81″.  My cake said that I was a sprite 18 again.  Oh, just 20 years ago that was true.  I wonder what I was doing then, I’m sure I was up to no good; but I know for sure that I didn’t have a friend like her.

HB to Me

So here it is, halfway to 76.  At least I’m not 40 yet, right Sherri?  Oh, but I will be soon enough.  I’d like to keep this upbeat, but I’ve been in a funk this week.  I miss my dad.  He died a year ago Sunday and I’m trying not to think about it, but it comes out in other ways.  Like getting stressed out about other things.  It’s also dance recital weekend, which is always a lot of work.   I had to give another awful speech last night, this time about gun control.  Have I told you lately that I’m NOT a public speaker??  Then I had a dream last night that everyone forgot my birthday.  No one even spoke to me all day.  Enough about all of that.

My kids tried to make me a cake last night.  Not just a cake, but my mom’s FAMOUS chocolate cake.  It’s legendary in our family.  Shelby was responsible for the cake and Kasey was making the icing.  Shelby got to the part of the recipe that called for buttermilk and they had to call grandma to find out what to do because we don’t have buttermilk. 

My mom told Kasey to pour in a 1/2 cup of milk, put vinegar in it, and let it set for 5 minutes to make buttermilk.  Kasey didn’t understand what grandma was talking about so she gave the phone to Shelby.  What my mom was trying to tell them was to pour 1/2 cup of milk in a measuring cup and add the vinegar to the measuring cup and let it set for 5 minutes. 

What Shelby actually did was pour a 1/2 cup of milk in the mixing bowl with the rest of the ingredients and then didn’t know what to do with the vinegar.  She then just poured a teaspoon of vinegar in the cake  mix after the milk and let the whole thing set for 5 minutes.  I don’t think that’s how you make buttermilk.

Anyway, that wasn’t the only problem.  Kasey was making the icing with unsweetened baking chocolate, which is right.  She got it all melted and when the cake came out she poured it over the top thinking that was the icing, which isn’t right.  The problem there was that she forgot to mix in the powdered sugar and it was just a liquid mix of unsweetened chocolate and butter.  YUCK! 

So the cake is ruined, but they really did try hard.  Shelby, of course, was devastated, but I think it was a sign that maybe I don’t need cake.  Maybe the ice cream cake I’m getting at work today is enough.   Of course it’s enough.

Mean Girls

I wonder about a lot of things.  Like a lot of things.  I wonder who wrote the book of love.  I wonder who buys all those trash magazines to keep all of them in business.  But mostly I wonder why girls are so mean.  And I wonder why it’s mostly girls.

Maybe it’s just because I have girls that I’m more sensitive to it, but it doesn’t seem like boys have the same amount of drama that girls do.  Kasey had a friend at school today that asked me if Kasey could go watch her play softball.  She called with the details and the monkey took Kasey, but they couldn’t find the field.  Kasey’s convinced that she set her up, but I refuse to believe that girls are really THAT mean.

Shelby had this friend and she was her first best friend since kindergarten.  A few years into their friendship, I started noticing that her friend would put Shelby down all the time.  It was only in front of other people, which I thought was weird, but she would just pick at her about everything.  The hardest part is that she was my best friend’s daughter, they went to the same school, and we were in a carpool.  I guess that’s more than just one part.  What happens to the carpool when the kids aren’t friends anymore?  It’s messy.  It was sad to see it end, but they had gone different directions, and they had made different friends. 

Shelby made a new friend at the beginning of 7th grade.  Again, with a carpool.  The first year was good, but then came 8th grade and the time they spent together was with her friend texting and talking to other people and completely ignoring Shelby.  It just got worse and worse until it was almost unbearable.  Thankfully, the year ended and I’m most likely staying out of carpools from now on.

Here’s the big thing I wonder:  do the other mothers really see how their daughters are?  Or do I really see how my daughter is?   Is she the mean one?  I hope not.  I feel like we have a really good relationship and I feel like I spend enough time with her to know how she acts.  I also witness how she is with her really good ACTUAL friends and it’s a completely different dynamic.   I wish I could just set her up with a whole group of nice girls so no one is ever mean to her. 

Also, if you can imagine, some of the girls that my kids have had bad experiences with have been at church.  Lindsey has had more than one girl at church make her cry.  I do understand that she’s overly sensitive, but one of these girls has gone out of her way to make  Lindsey feel bad at more than one church party.   

But here’s what made me want to write this post:  Lindsey was at dance last week, and I went in early to watch her.  It’s almost the recital so they were showing a big group of people their dance.  Then they said they were going to practice the finale.  Lindsey said, “what are we doing now?” because she didn’t hear what they said and this girl, Cameron, came over from across the room to tell Lindsey to get out because she wasn’t in that dance.   She actually put her hand on Lindsey’s back and led her to the door as if Lindsey couldn’t find it.  She didn’t see me standing there, but stopped the minute she did. 

This girl goes out of her way to be mean to her almost every week and I don’t know the line between her standing up for herself and me getting involved.  I tell her to stay away from the girl and what to say if she’s mean to her, but getting her to stand up for herself is a challenge.  She’s non-confrontational like me and I’m praying she doesn’t get walked on the rest of her life.  I also pray that she finds her voice and will be able to stand up for herself. 

I pray for all of them that they keep their kind hearts that they have now.  Because if my choice is to have a mean girl or one with a kind heart, you can guess which one I’m picking.

Don’t Be Judgey McJudgerson

My daughter, Kasey, has a best friend, Jonathon.  They are both 11 and have been best friends since they were 2.  Kasey tends to have more boys for friends than girls, which is hard since she’s in an all girl class now.  She doesn’t like the drama of girls, but she’s finally starting to have a couple of friends in her class.

A little background:  I truly believe that friends are brought into your life  for a reason, a season, or for life.  Jonathon’s sister, Emily, is the same age as Shelby and when I had to go back to work full time after Lindsey was born, an odd set of circumstances (or God) brought me to their mother, Danielle, who was looking to watch kids and socialize her son, who had never been to daycare.  She was a stay-at-home mom and lived four streets over.  Emily became Shelby’s best friend and Kasey and Jonathon were inseparable from age two on. 

Danielle and I also became best friends and did everything together.  We started working out together, grocery shopping, movies, tennis, holidays, everything.  Then she moved.  She was still watching my kids so we stayed close, but didn’t do as much together.  Then she moved again, and we got together less and less.  Then middle school hit and Shelby and Emily went different directions, got different friends.  I’ll blog more on that in one that I’ll title “Mean Girls”.  The situation then begged the question:  what happens to friends when your kids aren’t good friends anymore?  She had life changes, and I had life changes and then Emily changed schools.

There used to be sleepovers where we would switch kids, and on more than one ocassion she’s taken all three of mine, and vice versa.  The point of this blog is that Kasey and Jonathon still have sleepovers.  I mentioned it to a new friend and she was surprised.  Like, “WHAT?!?!” surprised.   You’d have to see Kasey and Jonathon together to understand why I still let them have sleepovers.  They regress probably 5 years, and they giggle (you should hear him giggle).  And they talk for hours and play on the swingset, which mainly goes unused.  They can be themselves because they know each other so well.  They don’t have to act cool, or act any way, they just hang out.

Kasey asked me one day about puberty and why some boys’ voices change.  I told her that right now Jonathon giggles like “heeheeheehee”, but one day he’ll start to laugh like “huhuhuh”, and then the sleepovers will have to stop.  I listened to them Friday night out on the swing set.  He was telling her about his friends at school, and I just prayed that they would stay like that.  That they would keep that innocence about them, although I know it won’t last forever. 

And if you don’t think I’m doing my job, I did tell her that if there was any “weird boy/girl stuff” then they would have to stop the sleepovers, but she doesn’t even think like that, he’s just her best friend.  I guess I understood my friend’s surprise before I explained it.  There’s obviously separate beds, and it’s not like I’d let Kasey bring home a new boy she just met in school.  I do have some parenting skillz.

A Good Teacher Story

When Shelby was in the 4th grade I got her 2nd progress report of the year and it said that she wasn’t reading at grade level.  I freaked out because I didn’t understand how I hadn’t been notified before.  I looked back at the first progress report, which her dad had signed and sent back, and it sure ’nuff stated that she wasn’t at reading level.  Her teacher, Mrs. Zarnoweic, had an after school reading program and asked if she could come every day. Um…Yes.  So every day she stayed after school about 45 minutes with other struggling students and read.  Her problem wasn’t actually the reading, it was comprehending what she had read and being able to tell it back according to the standardized tests they had to give.

The following year, her 5th grade teacher told me that she should interview to get into this middle school with a harder curriculum.  She was surprised that I was surprised, but I relayed the story that the previous year she wasn’t even at grade level.  Her teacher told me that she was excelling and that she should test for this program.  She was one of two that the teacher recommended and she got in.

Probably a month ago she told me that she was Literacy Student of the Year for her class.  I was happy for her, but didn’t fully realize what she was talking about.  I thought she was LSotY for HER class, like her literacy class, not her class, like the whole 8th grade.  I thought that her teacher, who she loves and said reminds her of me because she’s sarcastic, gave her the award for her class and then someone else for another class, etc.  You can see my skeptical thinking, right?

So there we were at the graduation ceremony, which they refused to call a “graduation” and insisted on calling it a “continuation” because they want students to continue to 9th grade (get it?).  Anyway, they were over halfway done calling people up and they got to Shelby.  They said “Literacy Student of the Year, Shelby D” (they said her full name, obviously).  I said “huh?” they didn’t announce that on anyone else.  I thought there would have been a lot of them. We can’t just pick one student as the best anymore, can we?  Well, I guess we can, because they did.  Her friend got up and she was Math Student of the Year.  Then another boy got up and he was Something Else (I can’t remember) Student of the Year and that was it.  In a society where we don’t want anyone to feel inferior to anyone else, I was really surprised that they’re still able to give awards like that, but I was so proud of her.

More importantly, I want to go give Mrs. Zarnoweic a huge hug for recognizing that Shelby had a problem in the 4th grade, and for helping her through it.  Unfortunately, most of the teachers that make the news are the ones that are in trouble for something, but there are truly good teachers out there.