Blue Skies Here | Central Texas

Happy Birthday Darling Girl (Darth Viper)

Today is always such a reminder of hope for me - as I celebrate the 3rd birthday of my sweet daughter.  She is the child I never thought I'd have...brought to me out of a relationship I'd never anticipated.  Makes me teary-eyed when I consider the blessing.

My Viper is sweet, scheming, funny, bright, quirky, effervescent, clever, and silly.  She equally adores pink fluffy icing and "spider chasing" in our yard.  She wears her ballet shoes to jump into the rainy afternoon's mud puddles.  Though refusing to have her hair brushed, she demands to wear her princess dress when we go out.  She's the loveliest mishmash of contradiction and complexity. 

Happiest of birthdays to my wonderful girl.  Your mommy is so excited that you're in her life...

Financial Perspective of the 7-Year Old

A recent conversation with my son about his not-quite-3-year old sister.

"Mom, come here." (said urgently) "Sit down.  I need to talk with you.  It's important."

"Sure, hon.  (concerned Mom...) What's going on?"

"It's about my sister.  I think that in the future, when she does something good - you should think about giving her money."

"Okay...why?"

"Well, I went in her room today.  And she has no bank.  No nothing.  She's BROKE, Mom.  BROKE!"

Later I went in to find that my son had taken some of his savings (about $.78, mostly pennies) and put it on his sister's dresser.  After seeing this - I went out and got her a little bank.  Not sure what my son thinks that his sister is going to do with this money - but couldn't resist supporting his "cause."

Viper Strikes Back

My sweet little almost-3-year old Violet, codename Viper, strikes again.  My husband, Viper, and I were heading to the airport last week - they were dropping me off as I headed out on a trip.  Vi had found her back up clothing that Daddy keeps in the backseat for her "just in case of emergency" -- and she'd proceeded to put all items on over her car seat harness.

So she had around her neck and on her arms as much as possible, her skirt, shirt and underthings...  Pretty cute.  When I turned around and saw her, I laughed and said, "Oh Violet, you are my darling girl."

Her response: "I not darling girl.  I Darth Vader."

Last Lecture - Late to the Bandwagon

I know that most of you have already watched the YouTube video or read the book - but I'm one of those who has to let the hype wear down before I can visit cultural phenomena like this...

I picked the book up at the library a couple of weeks ago and finally cracked it open yesterday - and devoured the whole thing.  I found myself nodding at so many passages, reconsidering my time spent with my husband, kids, and colleagues.  Thought about who I am, who I think I am - who I could be.

It also made me think back to the day when my late husband died - and my decision on how I was going to live life for me and my son.  I refused to give in, to mope, to be pessimistic, or to provide anything less than a hopeful, happy, magical and FULL life of possibilities for the two of us.  I remember hearing that some folks thought that I wasn't "mourning enough" considering the situation.  When I read what Randy Pausch wrote, I felt like he might have been a kindred spririt.  I don't know how many times I said to family and friends, "It is what it is - and there's a great life for us out there.  I won't ignore that."  I don't think you win my moping and complaining - you have to look forward, make the best of what you have, do your best for those around you.  Dig deep...

I don't mean for this to sound preachy - hope it doesn't.  I was just touched by Mr. Pausch's bravery and joy - and thought it worth passing it along.  If you haven't read the book, it's worth the time.

Happy Birthday to My Sweet Boy

Seven years ago my sweet son came into my life.  I have a hard time remembering how life was before him.  He's such a blessing to me in so many ways...

I remember how lousy it was to have your birthday at the beginning of school (mine, Aug. 26, was often the 1st day of school...) - so I decided to take him out this morning for doughnut breakfast and drop him at school a few minutes late.  So well timed, as Pres. Obama is making a national speech about taking school seriously, but I digress...

We spent our time together with me telling him stories about the day he was born - and of memories about what he was like as a littler boy.  His face lit up when I told him about how alert he was how he never wanted to miss anything (read: didn't like to sleep), how he loved his binkies so much that he slept with 20 of them, how his blankies were the center of his world, how I took him across the Atlantic to tour Italy when he was 14 months old...and how he loved ossobuco, how much I love him - and always will.

It was such a fantastic way to start the day that it made me realize that I should do it more often. 

First Day of School; Siblings

Yesterday was the first day of school for my son, who started second grade at Frost Elementary in Georgetown.  He headed off looking very handsome and grown up for the new year.  Left behind was his younger, almost-three-year old sister. 

Now, the two of them will play for about 3 minutes nicely until something erupts - "He pushed me! She took my toy!  He kicked me!  She pulled my hair.."  But that morning - all  of this was forgotten, all she could say was..."I miss my brother.  Can I go to school with him?"  I explained that she could go to her own school, but you had to be 7 to go to school with her older brother.  This was the wrong answer.  She clouded over.

When he came home from school - she was very happy to see him.  Wanted to play - and they did.  Until they started fighting.  When it was time for her to go to bed that evening - he ran to kiss and hug her.  She refused to kiss and hug him goodnight...

He was very upset - he doesn't understand the subtle manipulations of this relationship.  For him it's black or white.  Simple.  For her - it's a spectrum of interactions.

This morning we dropped my son back off for school together and as we were driving away - my daughter looked out the car window and said, "I miss my brother.  I don't want him to be at school.  I can't wait for him to come home and play."

And so it goes.

Honesty

My son and I just returned from a trip to New England to visit my 93-year old grandmother. She lives in an assisted living facility outside of Boston. Amazing lady, very sharp - but her body has failed her. Makes me wonder what I might be like in 60 or so years...

Anyway, my husband and daughter stayed home this trip. So, it was just me and my little guy. All in all, he was great. Taking a very active almost 7-year old to a retirement facility for long stretches of time is dicey. There's only so much small talk a little guy can make before he's itching to do something: ride up and down the elevator, climb on the railings, race the halls or play in the stairwell. He was able to occupy himself without injuring anyone - thank god.

One funny incident - we were leaving the dining room one afternoon - and my grandmother was making her way to the sitting area. My son was walking along next to his shuffling, walker equipped great-grandmother - being as patient as he could be, when he turned to her and said, "You're really slow.... But you're nice!"

Thankfully, my grandmother's hearing isn't what it used to be - as she might have been offended. I couldn't help but laugh at my filterless little boy.  Below's a picture from our trip...

Ridiculous and Disgusting

My husband and I have a war raging with our two-year old.  Over food.

Our son has always been a good eater, always willing to try a bite of anything -- and enjoying a wide array of foods.  Our daughter -- in her own words is, "No. Not."

Right now Violet's food choices include: peanut butter, chocolate milk, cheese, bananas, and sometimes yogurt.  I refuse to cowtow to this menu -- and so I continue to place in front of her whatever is being served to the rest of the family.  Mind you -- it's not viccysoise or sushi.  It's stuff like baked chicken and rice with green beans.

The other day, I made Violet some spaghetti noodles with alfredo sauce.  She stopped -- looked at me and said, "Mommy -- this is ridiculous and disgusting."

Huh?

I couldn't help but laugh.  I mean -- ridiculous and disgusting?  Really?  Was it that bad?

I appreciated her ability to describe her feelings about her lunchtime fare -- and after recovering from my laughter said, "That's your opinion, Vi, which you're entitled to -- however, you are not getting anything else.  This is lunch.  If you do not want it, you may be excused."

She said, "Okay."  And left the table.  No crying, no fight -- just disdain.  I'd have gotten a big fit from my son...but Violet has a bit of finesse.  She's willing to play this little chess game with Mommy.

Mercy.

Camouflage

Recently, my 6-year old son's first grade class was participating in Spirit Week.  On one of the days they were supposed to wear camouflage clothing to school.  So, I of course went and got him a camo shirt that he could wear.  The night before he was to dress in camo, I laid the shirt out for him...

"Here's your camouflage shirt for school tomorrow."

"MO-OMMMMM.  That won't work," he replied, rolling his eyes.

"Huh?"

"It needs to look greener.  And yellower.  And more like tile.  That's all wrong.  That shirt will never work."

"I'm not following, Elijah.  This is a camouflage shirt," I said.

"No, it's not Mom.  All of the kids will be able to see me very easily.  That shirt looks nothing like my school.  I will be totally obvious.  I will NOT be CAMOUFLAGED."

After some more discussion, I promised him that the other children would be dressed similarly and that he would not look silly.  He looked at my like I was insane, but complied.  He thought the whole thing was quite ridiculous. Why call it camouflage when you are not?

Playing to my Kids' Sense-abilities

This morning on my way to the office, I was listening to an interview with renowned chef and restaurateur Alice Waters.  She was talking about how going to the Farmer's Market is not a chore for her, but a pleasure.  That she loved nothing more than preparing chicken stock or fresh baked bread before her children came home from school -- because it was a sensory experience for them.  It made them feel good, and told of good things to come (home cooked dinner!).  She went on to say that she felt bad for many kids today who don't experience much more than fast food.  How these kids are missing a big part of the sensory experience of childhood.  The tomatoes are scentless, the food is packaged, there are containers and packets...

I couldn't agree more.

We all know how strong our senses of smell are...how the scent of cinnamon buns reminds us immediately of grandma or how the smell of a gym takes me back to that AWFUL 7th grade PE class and that RIDICULOUS baby blue gym uniform with LOMBAR emblazoned across the front...  I digress.

I try hard every day to prepare a homemade meal for my family.  I don't always get it done, but I do my best to make it a priority.  It makes my family feel special -- that I took the time to prepare something for them.  We all pitch in - my 6-year old sets the table, my husband clears, my 2-year old makes a mess...  Regardless, it's a family event -- memories in the making.

What I'm saying is that while we're rushing around trying to give our kids "the best" and watching them click, clack on a video game or computer, perhaps those 30 minutes would be better spent making a meal they can enjoy.  Or taking them to the local Farmer's Market and letting them experience what a REAL tomato smells and tastes like. 

I have a couple of pots of tomatoes, some peppers, and will be adding a spice garden soon -- I'm inspired by Alice!  My son and I tend to the plants we have now, and he gets such a charge out of watching them grow.  In fact, every other day or so he runs out to count the tomatoes and reports back to me on our progress.  My 2-year old daughter loves nothing more than to pick ripe fruit from the vine.  Some of them even make their way into a salad...