A Musing Mother 6

Around my 16th birthday, my father walked in with his car keys dangling from a finger. "Let's go learn how to drive a stick shift," he announced. Although not well versed with shifting gears, I didn't tell him that I'd already had a couple of lessons by my older brother and his Rabbit and I'd driven my sister's orange Ford Fiesta a couple of times home from church. Clearly, I was going to out-perform on my "first" lesson. We drove around the countryside; a community with an occasional stop sign and very little traffic. I popped the clutch too quickly and killed the engine, but overall I was doing a respectable job. Not far from our home was a gulley. Not the little dip in the road but a 16 degree angled hill going down then up. It's a nice little hamlet for some local deer, raccoon, fox and a little stream. It was kind of like a roller coaster for the poor. If you opened your windows, closed your eyes, put your hands up the air, there was a v

In the kitchen: 2 boxes of empty Capri Sun 1 box with one Capri Sun 1 empty box of Special K in the pantry 1 empty box of instant oatmeal in the drawer 1 gallon container of empty milk in the refrigerator In the girls' bathroom: 2 empty bottles in the shower No soap in the dispenser Empty toilet paper roll with a full roll of paper on the counter Cotton balls, tissues, empty toilet paper rolls almost  in the garbage but really on the floor Like sands through the hour glass, so are the days of my life...

The sunflowers are definitely the crowning glory of the garden this year. It amazes me, actually. Out of dirt grew something I planted and it's 12 ft. high and has the circumference of a tree. I want to take credit for having such an amazing sunflower garden. In fact, if the Roma tomatoes turn red at the same time and I am busy canning, I want to take credit for that, too. The truth is that I bought the sunflower seeds on a whim. I saw them and thought they'd be fun for the kids to watch grow. I planted them and left them alone. I let the sprinklers water them and planted them in the sun. When the bugs got really bad, I sprayed them a little bit when I was spraying the vegetables. That's it. And now I am deemed the Sunflower Queen. So that started me thinking about how kids turn out. If I hover over them and try to control every little thing they do, will it really do any good? If I don't worry about the small stuff and they don't turn in their homework

It started with something so benign. The bar stools were old, ugly and cheap. They were the basic round 24" oak kind that had been customized by ten years of kids, chewing puppies, and they'd even been in a dance recital. So one date night at a furniture store yielded 3 new bar stools complete with an ergonomic design with backs and wipeapble seats. Stunning, they were. Truly stunning. Which then brought the attention to the rest of the kitchen and its outdated cabinetry and dining set. The next chapter of this saga began with my admiring hand caressing (yes, caressing) my sister's banister and commenting on the color and wood. She informed me she'd stained right over the light finish to match the new additions and it was a piece. Of. Cake. "You could totally do your whole kitchen," she commented. She then encouraged me to try it on the inside of one cabinet first and handed me the remainder of her can of paint. I did and I didn't love the results. Next c

The most challenging aspect of Christmas if finding a picture of the family for a Christmas card. I stopped sending rubber stamped updates years ago since "snark" didn't go over as well as you'd think. Nobody wanted to know how many of the neighbor children I'd successfully taught to swear by simply watching me chase the dog through the streets, waving a leash. They can boast about their enterprising "Scentsy" home business and their child who nearly  was a Sterling Scholar but I can't tastefully mention my daughter's new dating life trickling because I keep asking the young men to return on Monday nights to teach a lesson for Family Home Evening on virtue? Still, I can't quite give up the family picture but there is always the issue of an acceptable picture with all family members in the frame looking respectable. So I bought a mini-tripod and gave myself the one minute lesson on camera timers on our last weekend vacation to Mirror Lake. Not

Plus three years and a lot of floss and elastics, the butterfly has emerged! Which is really to say, she's been emerging for the past three years. She just thinks that with her braces off she's suddenly beautiful. In actuality, she's always been gorgeous. As of recently, she's become comfortable with her long limbs, sparkling personality, and thick hair. And then she got her braces off. I will miss the little girl.

Remember when you became a new mother and freaked out about every little germ that might enter your little one's environment? Or the way you wanted to protect the baby from all unpleasant sounds and negative stimuli? Did you play Mozart because you knew he'd grow up to be a genius? Sterilize all objects that might end up in his mouth? Yeah. Me, too. For the first child. But may I present my sister and her fourth child: No freaking out, here. It's just a BB gun but it does have a kick and it isn't a quiet shot. Have you seen these hilarious little chairs that sits babies up? I'm all about including all family members for meal time but I find my sister's exuberance to be nothing short of inspiring. Meanwhile, up the street a block, my sister's attendance was required at a very well scripted play in a neighbor's driveway. The storyline, still a little fuzzy to me, included little 8 year old Hannah going off stage (behind the garage wall) and making sounds o

Thursday morning I drove to work with my oldest daughter, leaving the younger three at home. 11:02 - Arrive at work 11:10 - 11 year old boy call: "Mom, can I play with Parker?" 11:12 - 13 year old girl call: *Sob* "That's not fair! I'm stuck home babysitting! Who do you want to play with? "I don't know. Someone." Call "Someone" and call me back. 11: 25 - 11 year old: "I had to run out of the house because my S. was going to kill me." "I was not going to kill you!" S is on the extension. "Mom, I came home to eat lunch." Great. Feed the 6 year old. 11:35 - I didn't answer. 11:36 - Ignore call 11:37 - What?! "Mom? Hi. I love you, Mom. Hey, Mom? J. ran out of the house because S. was going to kill him but then he came home and fed me. Bye, Mom." 11:42 - "Hi, Mom. How's work?" 11:46 - "Do you have anybody in your office?" 11:49 - "Mom? I'm going to Parker's house n

Twenty years ago I agreed to one more blind date. Blind dates had become a staple to my life as everybody seemed to see me as a special "project." I agreed to the blind date because 1) my sort-of boyfriend had not yet come to see me even though I'd been back in the country for nearly a week after being gone all summer, 2) I knew I'd never give him my address so he'd never be able to stalk me and 3) I liked talking to him when he called. We met for lunch at a Mongolian barbecue place and by the time he'd paid the bill I'd asked him out for the following night. He asked me where to pick me up. I told him I'd meet him there, again thwarting any stalking ideologies. No way would I be caught alone without an escape plan. What might this handsome man do to me? Eventually he did get me alone and I had no escape plan so I told him about my sort of boyfriend whom I'd been kissing the night before (I didn't tell him that). My now former blind date evened