A Musing Mother 6

I was still having tummy cramps on Monday and feeling pretty crummy. Summer leaves my maternal side much to be desired as I don't know where all four of my children are at any given time. I can usually give an approximate location for at least three, though. My own personal hygiene suffers as well. But that's quite another matter. A gaggle of 11 year old boys in the neighborhood bought a pass to a mini amusement park. When I say mini, think Disneyland the size of a postage stamp. When a mother of one of the boys called to inform me of this decision, she also included that there was a special going on where I could get $10 off. I respond well to peer pressure and a good deal so I quickly bought the pass and he was set for the summer. Monday the group went to the park and all were admitted except my son.  Apparently, there were two passes and I bought the wrong one. He called me and I started to work the magic of figuring it all out while he waited for me. By the time I arrived,

Nancy: I do not feel well. Scott: What's wrong? Nancy: Well, TMI time, it's my lower gastrointestinal system. Scott: Why don't you want to go to church? Nancy: Myriad of reasons but I really am sick. Scott: Okay. At church, I feel sweat dripping down my back. Nancy: I'm going home. I feel like crap. Scott: You know I'm teaching Sunday school today. I could use some encouragement. Nancy: Go get 'em, Tiger. 'Bye. Next day - texting: Scott: Holy crap! What did you give me! I feel awful! Nancy: Why don't you want to go to work today? Scott: Groan. Nancy: Bad news. It's not a one day thing.

Even though the girls are gone to camp, Scott still chose to have a birthday. The boys and I celebrated without them. We were sad. I know it's hard to tell, but we missed them. This year for his birthday, Scott had his right knee cut open and pre-arthritic growth cut out. That was yesterday. $10 says he'll try to play basketball next week. Because youth and skill are no match for old age and treachery. Guess which category he falls under. Go ahead. Guess. Handsome bunch, aren't they? You can see where those darling boys get their good looks. For the moment, I am the prettiest girl in the house. Unless you like cats and dogs.

Girls Camp started today. I love my daughters dearly but I was excited about having them with other people for 5 days, expanding their spiritual awareness and growing emotionally and, I hoped, socially, as well. My 16 year old loves camp. She looks forward to it every year. My 13 year old - not so much. In fact, I had serious doubts she'd not sabotage her packing so she would have to come home at night. She was not looking forward to sleeping in a tent, girls stretched wall-to-wall. I could see her mind plotting ways to not have to go to camp for days. And then a miracle occurred. She suddenly got excited about going, packed her bags, shook out a sleeping bag, made a lunch and even made a sandwich for her sister. It was like a Christmas miracle. In June. The 16 year old thanked her sister for the sandwich as she was walking out of the bathroom after blowing her nose or something heroic like that. She then swung her outside foot around in an arc too large for the hall to accommodate

I may have neglected to let you know that my youngest child graduated from kindergarten. I am proud of both of us for surviving this year - He loved it very, very much. I survived one high schooler, one junior high schooler, one grade schooler, one kindergartener, and a job. I'm not going to lie to you. It almost killed me.  I will miss the time with this sweet guy. But we survived one girl's first year of high school One girl's first year in junior high One boy's first year of school And I am ever so grateful for my 5th grade son who puts up with a lot in this family. My sentiments, exactly.

First I stayed up too late reading. When I finally headed towards my bed, I stopped at my 11 year old son's room and manhandled him to stand up and gave him a gentle shove toward the bathroom. I'd even turned the light on for him. Looked for 6 year old for a last potty break. I found him in my bed. He'd soaked his clothes, my sheet, mattress pad and my blankets. Thanks, Buddy. I went about the business of stripping him in the dark and standing him over the toilet to finish the job. The job was pretty darn near finished. Redressed him for bed and went in search of his brother who was completely M.I.A. He'd gotten lost on the way to the bathroom. He does this often. He'd wandered around the house sleepwalking until he either wakes up or finds a soft place to lay back down. I found him in his brother's room on the bed. Mandhandled him up again and guided him to the bathroom. Stood there so he didn't wander off again. He found his bed when he was finished. My sl

Every Fall I'd start the school year with expectations of the next big thing. Brand new notebooks completely empty and awaiting whatever I wrote in them, the emptiness craving the possibilities. New books that popped when I opened them that needed to be smelled. What? I'm a book smeller. I also loved the smell of brand new erasers. My first college catalog was also rife with possibilities. Once again, new books, new paper, and finally a highlighter to use in said books. There was always something exciting just around the corner, waiting to be grabbed. An opportunity with my name written on it. Every date a new relationship. New classes represented new wisdom. With my gown returned and a couple of degrees in hand, job offers were coming in fast and furious. It was the end of a recession and I had my pick. Once in a career, I joined professional organizations, held offices and enjoyed the new possibilities. Marriage and the dreams of building my life with another person and all t

I looked through my closet for a plain, white T-shirt. They are all differing shades of gray. As I held each one up for inspection, my 6 year son came in and saw my shirts spread out on the bed. "Mom. You need Oxi-Clean." "Where did you hear about Oxi-Clean?" I knew I didn't have anything stronger than Tide in my laundry room. And maybe a Tide pen. "I saw it on T.V. You should ALWAYS believe what's on T.V." Huh. I see I have my work cut out for me.

My dad came home one Sunday afternoon and announced, with a big smile, that my sister, Joey, and I were spending the summer in London! He paused for effect. He could not have picked a more unappreciative daughter to spring this one on. I had fully intended to spend the entire summer dating as many prospective husbands as I possibly could. In fact, one was sitting on the chair across from me when this announcement came. Regardless of my reticence, my sister and I made all the preparations. This was a study abroad program which actually included a curriculum. We quickly brushed up on the British Isles history, took a test after finishing some assignments and worked on the cultural aspect. The passports were rushed and arrived a few days before departure, packed WAAAYYY too many clothes, forgot the umbrella but quickly acquired one within the first couple of hours and held our itineraries, transportation maps and tour info close by. We tried really, really hard to not look American becaus

Today I pulled in to the school drop off area 10 minutes late and stopped behind a white Suburban.  While my son gave me all the last minute details that he just HAD to tell me before going into the school, I glanced at the license plate in front of me. This was a woman I wanted to be friends with. She came out of the school looking harried and hurried and I told her how much I loved her plates. A cloud passed over her eyes as she told me her husband gave them to her. She's still trying to figure out how to fit "micromanager" in 7 letters onto HIS plates. I really want to be her best friend.