Planned Spontaneity

"Planned Spontaneity", my oxymoron for the summer! For the first time, in their short summer vacation carreer, I made my kids a summer schedule. It's not carved in stone, we'll survive if we don't do everything or go over on something. Our "daily activities" are only one a day. Oh may that activity last for hours giving me lots of time to read, clean, watch a cooking show...oops did I type that...I meant give my kids lasting memories of the summer to beat all summers!

We have a blank day. I call that our "Planned Spontaneity" day. Now, secretly to my children it's the day I set aside to meet with my close friend and her two kids. A day where I dream of the 4 children going off and play nicely & quietly together so her and I can catch up. Or on the days when we can't meet Mommy becomes the best mom ever by singing "last one to the pool is a rotten egg".

When I was a kid we didn't have summer schedules. Our plan was that everyday after breakfast you went outside where you stayed until dinner time. I'm pretty sure Mom slid a tray of lunch under the door and my brother and I picniced under a shady tree. There was no chance of too much tv or wii becuase we only had 3 channels and no video games. Our 65 acres was our playground. Our woods was our fort and dare anyone to enter the woods without a password. My kids, sadly, don't live in that world anymore. Global warming & chemical laden sunblocks keep us inside most of the summer, I now live on 1/4 of an acre, and I would never let my kids out to roam free all day for fear of their abduction, calls to CPS, and who knows what other dangers lurk in the woods these days.

These days we plan playdates in the park, movie day, library day, and we have a schedule posted. And we don't forget to be spontaneous even if it is planned.

So maybe my summer schedule was made more to keep me from going insane (after all isn't that what Mom was doing when she sent us off), maybe it won't be truly spontaneous, maybe it's weird to even have summer structure. Or maybe, just maybe, this will turn out to be the summer to beat all summers! (If I plan accordingly)

Spiritual Craving

My spirit is broken. Well, maybe broken is too strong of a word because I have always told myself I'd never let it be broken. Maybe it's cracked or maybe it is just craving. They (who are they by the way) say that if you close your eyes and imagine a serene setting you'll lower your blood pressure, if you just smell chocolate & coffee you'll be satisfied. Pretty sure the latter is a big fat lie.
So maybe...if I feed my spirit with pictures, memories, and serene settings I'll be renewed. A little single-girls vacation is the next step if this doesn't work!

So here are the little things...the little things that matter to me and maybe they won't matter to you. But take a moment and give your spirit what it's craving:

~~imagining the smell of the body wash & shampoo wafting in the steam when my husband is getting ready for work in the morning.

~~listening to the voices (of my children) in my head as they giggle.

~~remembering Saturday night pizza making with my Mom.

~~remembering the taste & texture of Sunday morning pizza eating for breakfast. Nothing was better than Mom's cold-pizza. Yep, she knew how to prepare us for the single life. (:

~~feeling the grass on my bare arms and legs as a kid as we rolled down our big hill.

~~seeing the light bulb come on when a kid that I mentor "get's it".

~~ginormous spider monkey hugs from my little bear.

~~Good Night Moon.

~~thinking about how much time I wasted "hating" my little brother when we were growing up and loving how we've become the best of friends!

~~looking in the mirror and not being TOTALLY happy with what I see but TOTALLY happy with who I am!

Those are just a few of my favorite things and I feel better already! I think I need to feed my spiritual cravings more often. It feels good, my blood pressure is lower, and now I'm going to pour another cup of coffee and maybe have a little chocolate. The smell alone just won't cut it!

The Birthday Blues

Today my preschooler was invited to a birthday party for "Just the Guys". This had his older sister singing the Birthday Blues. She didn't understand why she was not invited. According to her all I had to do was call them up, explain that she was Ian's sister, and she'd be welcomed.

Cue the "It's not fair" soundtrack. Play the "why" broken record. Tears...don't forget the tears. My god, the Not Fair Tears!!

In my exhausted state of mind I wanted to tell her to shut it, that life wasn't fair, shit happens, and get over it. But while I thought those evil thoughts I would never let them be voiced. Instead I started with "Let's talk about this without attitude". I was telling her that but I knew I had to check my own attitude as well.

I realize that it's a hard habit to break. The two of them going everywhere together, doing everything together, sharing friends, and sharing birthday parties. They've been each other's best friends and party-going-companions for 5 years. I think this is a valuable lesson of independence and realizing that his/her friends don't mean our friends. No, it's not fair and sadly it won't be the first rejection either of them feels as they go through school making their very own friends.

I have to admit (though, never to my kids) that for a split second I knew how easy it would be to get Audrey "in". But where's the lesson in that. So for now she will have to sing the birthday blues. Sorry kid, sometimes life just isn't fair so get over it. (There I said it...quietly)

That Bitch

My Aunt- the short one, the most favorite, the go to for anything, the diplomat, the beautiful one, the best- has cancer. That Bitch!!! The cancer - not my Aunt! That Bitch (again, the cancer not my Aunt) has taken 3 of my loved ones and is about to take another. I hate That Bitch!

Cancer sucks! Cancer is a bitch. Again, I hate That Bitch! I have never known anyone who didn't think cancer was a bitch. Oh sure there are positive people who take what cancer has done to them and their loved ones and enriched their lives or made great changes towards a better future. There are those who do not wallow in the sadness & despair that cancer brings to their lives. I'm not one of those people...at least not yet. As of yet I am the one who takes their anger towards cancer out on those around me, I curse the disease, I feed my despair with more anger and pity and I'm miserable. I want it to go away. All of the cancer around me has turned me into That Bitch. I don't want to be That Bitch. I want to beat That Bitch's ass. I want to beat it out of my Aunt. Hell, sometimes I want to beat my Aunt for getting cancer. But, she's shorter than me and that just wouldn't be a fair showdown!

Until we do beat her ass (the cancer not my...well, you get it by now) we support the cuases, we rally in our pink ribbons, our yellow wrist bands, our Relay for Life tees. We support the loved ones who have to deal with That Bitch, we race for a cure, we donate our time and our money...

We try with all our might to beat her ass...someday That Bitch is going down!

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note: This entry is dedicated to my Aunt Nancy L. Bourgeois who is fighting the fight of her life, who is loved by many, and who has loved many including me with all of her heart! I love you Aunt Nasty!

More from My Funny Valentines

Ian: (looking in the mirror) "Oh yeah, my style is looking gooooooooood"

Ian: "Mom you drive fast and I'll watch for cops"

Ian: "Oh yeah baby, chocolate...here I come"

Audrey: (disapprovingly) "You call this a REAL dinner"

Audrey: "I wasn't meaning to whine it just comes naturally"

Ian: "Mom if you see a woodpecker gun it"

Audrey: "Do you know what the best best best best Christmas present is......being with your family"

Audrey: "The most important thing to remember is NEVER to use the word handsome with me...I am not a boy and I don't do boy things"

Ian: What's that measuring thing?
Mom: It's a ruler.
Ian: What's a ruler?
Mom: REALLY???

Audrey: Mom you make the BEST pancakes!
Ian: They're not made they're bought...right mom.
Mom: Right Ian
Audrey: Well, you cook the best pancakes then!

Ian: Ooooo, I love this song...my Mommy used to sing it to me when I was a little baby
Mom: Who your OTHER Mommy? (knowing that I had not sung it)
Ian: Yeah
Mom: Okay then

Meatloaf Madness

I love to cook! I get excited to cook. I know I'm a good cook. I can cook just about anything from country to gourmet, from Italian to French, from a recipe or from my own made up dishes. I love to cook! Unfortunately I cannot cook meatloaf to save my life.

Everyone has that dish they call their own. It's one of their signature dishes that always starts with a "My". "MY" Mac & Cheese, "MY" spaghetti sauce, "MY" meatloaf. And you know it's good because you always get a request for that dish at every pot luck or bring a dish to pass party. Bring "YOUR" baked beans, ooooo will you make "YOUR" pasta salad. Sadly I've never heard "how about making me YOUR meatloaf". No one wants MY meatloaf. And I am okay with this. I can and have and will continue to admit meatloaf mayhem.

There is only one teeny tiny problem with my inability to form meat and veges and spices into a loaf...it's that meatloaf is my husband's all time favorite dish. Of course it is. Why couldn't he just love linguine with a white-wine sauce, why couldn't he settle for seared scallops with a balsamic reduction, why can't he just be happy with vege burgers? Nope, he loves loves loves meatloaf and I am so thankful that he loves me in spite of my meatloaf inadequacies. Although I'm certain that if I ever serve up a perfect meatloaf I could convince him to buy me something shiny.

I've tried everything to make perfection in a loaf pan. I've tried countless recipes, I've tried making up my own mix, I've bought the very best meat combination, I've watched food network, I've scoured the Internet, I've consulted with friends & family and I still come up short. The key, according to Alton Brown, is don't over-mix the meat. (I'll pause for a moment while you make a joke about how I handle the meat). The key, according to Rachel Ray is to start with fresh ground meat from your butcher. (of course) Other less famous yet equally yummy foodies say "use your hands to mix it" (Um, ewwww) "try adding a little of this and less of that" (yeah, been there done that)

You can ask my husband he laughs every time we have meatloaf for dinner and he will tell me what is good about it and what could be better about it and sometimes he just tells me to order a pizza. On one of our date nights we made a list of what we loved about the other. He wrote "the way you always try to make me meatloaf". Key word here was TRY. It has become our thing...him loving meatloaf and me trying to satisfy that love. They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, I imagine I've broken his heart a hundred times over with MY meatloaf.

It has become part of my quest in life. To perfect this dish. My madness. My meatloaf madness.

Independence Day

June 9, 2010

I feel this summer will be what I call "The summer of independence".

My oldest started swim lessons on her own (no mommy & me) this year. The first class ended in tears and frustration and screams of "I'm never going back to the pool again". That was 6 weeks ago and now we can't get her to leave the pool. She likes to see how long she can stay underwater, she likes to prove she can do more in the water than her little brother, and she finally jumped in for the first time yesterday. A little trick that took her 2 full classes to muster up the courage and then it was into 1 foot of water. But she did it...she took the leap. So why am I the one holding my breath? Why do I feel like I'm the one jumping into the deep end?

In just days she "graduates" Kindergarten. I won't forget how she let go of my hand on that first day and marched into school like she was always meant to be there. I won't forget the day she let go of my hand to cross the road all by herself to board the bus. I won't forget how she clutched tight to my hand when we moved to a new school and I had to encourage her to let go.

These are not her first examples of independence. I remember a little part of my heart breaking when she was just under a year old and decided that she no longer wanted or needed to be rocked to sleep...so I put her in her crib and she put herself to sleep. Bittersweet indeed. Just months ago she wanted us to read her bedtime stories and now she insists that she will be the one reading to us...try as I might the nights of rocking her gently to Goodnight Moon are becoming too few and far between.

While it seems that this is the summer of independence I know it didn't just happen overnight, I know her Daddy & I are very big influnces to her finding her ability to let go and do it herself, I know it's hard to be the one letting go and I wonder if it's as hard for her as it is me to be the one to pull away. I also know that between now and adulthood a lot more examples of her letting go and finding her independence will challenge my instincts to hold on tight.

Yes, I will learn to encourage her to let go, Yes I will push her to try it all by herself, and yes, I will watch her take that first leap while holding my breath. I will praise and cheer from the sidelines and teach her to be first and foremost proud of herself before searching out the pride she will see from us. Yes I will celebrate this summer of her independence and I will allow myself to pull away and celebrate my own.