A few things I could have done without hearing this week....
“I’d like to take a minute to discuss ringworm” – the middle school wrestling coach as I sat in on my first wrestling parent meeting.
“Mom bought me some hoochy mama boots!” – Alanya, after I caved and bought her some Ugg knockoffs.
“There aren’t any flu shots in the state, so don’t even waste your time looking.” – my doctor, after I spent a week trying to track down seasonal and H1N1 shots for me and the kids.
And a few I wouldn't mind hearing again sometime...
“Mom, I got Student of the Month!” - Noah, after finding out he was one of three sixth graders selected at his school.
“In all my years I have never had a student master that piece in one week.” – the piano teacher after Benny knocked her socks off.
“Mom, Daddy brought home roses and wine!” – Alanya, after a really long week for me.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Friday, November 6, 2009
A message from the sick ward
Nine days ago I woke up and my life came to a screeching halt. Ben had a fever. The stories on the news of the H1N1 virus making its way through the schools echoed in my head. The thought of a day at home wasn't so bad at the time, but little did I know I'd still be here nine days later.
That first day Alanya got off the bus and I knew I was in trouble. She had it too. For the next few days we were the sick ward and miraculously Noah and I showed no signs of getting sick. I cancelled my plans and turned into a vampire, venturing out only when it was dark after Jason got home from work. Trips to the grocery store and pharmacy the extent of my travels.
Around Day 6, the two little ones looked to be coming out of it and I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. And then... "Mom, my throat is sore," from Noah. Say it isn't so.
The doctor's offices around here don't want to see kids with the flu as there is nothing that can be done for it. No need to bring them out in public to infect others. Something was different with Noah though, and on the third day I decided to call. After more than two hours of busy signals I finally got through and convinced the nurse he should get in to see someone. Strep throat, not the flu. Go figure. My doctor, who had told me he highly doubted Noah had strep, but would do the test anyway, handed me the prescription for antibiotics and said that Noah was one of the few kids he could help this week, and he should be feeling better in 48 hours.
So here I sit, day nine. You'd think my house would be spotless, closets cleaned, yard raked. What do I have to show for this house-bound vacation of mine? Not much. I need a vacation.
That first day Alanya got off the bus and I knew I was in trouble. She had it too. For the next few days we were the sick ward and miraculously Noah and I showed no signs of getting sick. I cancelled my plans and turned into a vampire, venturing out only when it was dark after Jason got home from work. Trips to the grocery store and pharmacy the extent of my travels.
Around Day 6, the two little ones looked to be coming out of it and I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. And then... "Mom, my throat is sore," from Noah. Say it isn't so.
The doctor's offices around here don't want to see kids with the flu as there is nothing that can be done for it. No need to bring them out in public to infect others. Something was different with Noah though, and on the third day I decided to call. After more than two hours of busy signals I finally got through and convinced the nurse he should get in to see someone. Strep throat, not the flu. Go figure. My doctor, who had told me he highly doubted Noah had strep, but would do the test anyway, handed me the prescription for antibiotics and said that Noah was one of the few kids he could help this week, and he should be feeling better in 48 hours.
So here I sit, day nine. You'd think my house would be spotless, closets cleaned, yard raked. What do I have to show for this house-bound vacation of mine? Not much. I need a vacation.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Boy of the Year
Ever since I was a child I can remember my father saying that he was “Boy of the Year” in 1956. Now, if you knew my dad, you’d know that he has been haunted with perfection all of his life. The oldest of three, he was the golden boy, the altar server, the straight A student. He was the first to go to college, on a full athletic scholarship no less, and went on to become a successful and accomplished executive. By the time I was born, it was somewhat difficult to comprehend my father’s humble beginnings. I lived in a big beautiful house, went on family vacations and wanted for nothing - a far cry from the sad and rundown mill town where my grandparents lived when I was a kid. Dad would tell us stories of his childhood and the “Boy of the Year” was always thrown in, almost like frosting on the top. Of course he was. Sure.
Imagine our surprise when this summer my father shared with us that he received a call from the Boys and Girls Club of his youth and was told he was to be inducted into their Hall of Fame. For a second it sounded like a joke, but then it sunk in. He really was that boy, the skinny kid from the poor home who looked for a safe place to hang out with his friends. Not only that, he wasn’t forgotten. People knew him, remembered him, and didn’t want to forget him.
A few weeks ago on a cold Thursday night, I got the kids dressed up and we attended the banquet where my father and two others were honored. All of my siblings, seven of the ten grandchildren, my dad’s two younger brothers and other family and friends were there. My dad’s remarks were sweet and funny and made me cry. I sat there, thinking of the timeline going backwards in his life… 38 years of my life, 46 years married to my mom, 8 years of college and high school I could picture from snapshots and newspaper clippings when, even back then, he still looked like the dad that I have always known. That night however, it was about my dad as a boy. Like my 11 year old Noah, just coming into his own, not quite a little boy but nowhere near a man. It was a snapshot of my dad that I never really took the time to ponder.
It reminds me of the book The Time Traveller’s Wife, where a time travelling husband bounces to the past and spends time with his wife when she was a young girl. Imagine getting the chance to spend time with the people you love most, your husband or parents, at that most perfect time. When the reality of life has yet to set in and they still think they can play for the Red Sox some day, or an afternoon of playing in a pile of leaves truly is the best time ever. Or seeing them as Boy of the Year, ready to conquer the world.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Facebook killed your blog
“Facebook killed your blog,” said my mom about a month ago.
Early in the summer I finally sucked it up and started doing Facebook because I was sick and tired of having people ask me if I did it or not. Facebook is a funny world, communicating your emotions and thoughts in 25 word snippets or so to let the world know what’s going on with you. There is some satisfaction with posting how proud you are of your kids because they did X, Y or Z, and then you move on. No need to sit down and write it up for your blog. I haven’t been blogging lately and I’ve been wondering why. I’ve actually come up with a few reasons other than Facebook.
When I started this page about a year ago I did it primarily to keep my mom and dad in the loop of the every day and mundane while they are in Florida for the winter. With them home this summer, I didn’t feel such an urgent need to post photos or the funny thing that a kid did. October is here and they are gone again, so we’ll see if things change around here.
I think my silence began slowly this summer after I saw the movie Julie and Julia. The movie was delightful and entertaining and I left the theater with an overwhelming desire to cook Beef Bourguignon and to write more. For those of you who saw the movie though, you know that Julie wrote with a purpose, to find herself, to finally become a writer, to be something other than the person in the cubicle. She challenged herself and posted every day, struggling through the good and the bad to meet her goal. Wow… that’s deep. I’m just a mom who occasionally sits in the rocking chair in my kitchen with a laptop musing about how the Tooth Fairy screwed up again or how each of my kids are unique and different little people. Not ground breaking in the least.
I don’t have advertisements to make extra cash, I don’t have a theme to try and draw in readers, it’s just me and my computer who sometimes is the best listener. And after I get all my thoughts down, I often feel a lot better. So here it is. There is no grand scheme to this, it’s just for me.
Early in the summer I finally sucked it up and started doing Facebook because I was sick and tired of having people ask me if I did it or not. Facebook is a funny world, communicating your emotions and thoughts in 25 word snippets or so to let the world know what’s going on with you. There is some satisfaction with posting how proud you are of your kids because they did X, Y or Z, and then you move on. No need to sit down and write it up for your blog. I haven’t been blogging lately and I’ve been wondering why. I’ve actually come up with a few reasons other than Facebook.
When I started this page about a year ago I did it primarily to keep my mom and dad in the loop of the every day and mundane while they are in Florida for the winter. With them home this summer, I didn’t feel such an urgent need to post photos or the funny thing that a kid did. October is here and they are gone again, so we’ll see if things change around here.
I think my silence began slowly this summer after I saw the movie Julie and Julia. The movie was delightful and entertaining and I left the theater with an overwhelming desire to cook Beef Bourguignon and to write more. For those of you who saw the movie though, you know that Julie wrote with a purpose, to find herself, to finally become a writer, to be something other than the person in the cubicle. She challenged herself and posted every day, struggling through the good and the bad to meet her goal. Wow… that’s deep. I’m just a mom who occasionally sits in the rocking chair in my kitchen with a laptop musing about how the Tooth Fairy screwed up again or how each of my kids are unique and different little people. Not ground breaking in the least.
I don’t have advertisements to make extra cash, I don’t have a theme to try and draw in readers, it’s just me and my computer who sometimes is the best listener. And after I get all my thoughts down, I often feel a lot better. So here it is. There is no grand scheme to this, it’s just for me.
Friday, September 11, 2009
What I learned in Junior High
My first child started Middle School recently, and that alone was a bit of adjustment for me. Wasn’t I just negotiating with him to leave his pacifier in the car when we went to tour preschools? Where did the time go? Even more disturbing is thinking that my little boy is being released into that horrible den of pre-teen hell called Middle School. For me it was Junior High, but it’s all the same. You couldn’t pay me to go back, not that I would ever tell Noah that. It is a rite of passage we all need to experience. The cruel twist of fate in my case is that he is going to the same school I did.
Last spring I attended a parent night and as I walked through the doors of the school for the first time in 23 years my stomach dropped a bit. It looks a little different with a new wing, and new color scheme, but so much is exactly the same. The memories came rushing back, both good and bad, but mostly the bad.
All summer it drove me crazy that all I could remember was the nasty girls, the insecurities and the teasing boys. I remember planning my outfit for the first day of school, and then once I got to my homeroom, immediately realizing I looked completely wrong; the sleepless nights; standing against the wall ready to vomit when a slow song was played at a dance. I decided to dig deep and remember some of the positives, and indeed, I did learn a few things about life in Junior High.
People can be cruel. They may regret it moments later or years later, but sometimes something can come over a person and once the words come out they can’t be taken back.
It’s never too late to apologize. When I was in college I ran into a girl from Junior High who had done something horrible to me. We stopped to say hello and to my shock, she apologized. I’m sure it wasn’t easy, but it must have been bothering her for years. I’m not sure I would have been that courageous, but she taught me it is never too late.
Challenging yourself is better than taking the easy road. In 8th grade, due to a scheduling conflict, I got put into a Social Studies class that was a level lower than I normally took. I was the teacher’s pet, got perfect grades, and barely had to lift a finger. And I was bored silly.
Life-long friendships are possible. I am still close to two of my friends from Junior High (Kelly? Mindy? Are you reading this?), and although our lives have taken us to different places and different parts of the country, when we do connect it is effort-less.
Family will always pick you up. The joke in my family is that whenever someone said or did anything hurtful to me (which happened more than necessary in Junior High) my mom and sisters would always respond with “they are just jealous of you”. It probably wasn’t always true, but it always made me feel better.
Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t all bad by any means. I do remember being a part of the school volleyball team, the all-night slumber parties, the new independence, my first “boyfriend” and first kiss in the school gym. More than anything, I have to laugh at it all now as an adult. The things that seemed so important then are so small in the larger scheme of things. My wish for Noah is that he will figure that out earlier than later.
Last spring I attended a parent night and as I walked through the doors of the school for the first time in 23 years my stomach dropped a bit. It looks a little different with a new wing, and new color scheme, but so much is exactly the same. The memories came rushing back, both good and bad, but mostly the bad.
All summer it drove me crazy that all I could remember was the nasty girls, the insecurities and the teasing boys. I remember planning my outfit for the first day of school, and then once I got to my homeroom, immediately realizing I looked completely wrong; the sleepless nights; standing against the wall ready to vomit when a slow song was played at a dance. I decided to dig deep and remember some of the positives, and indeed, I did learn a few things about life in Junior High.
People can be cruel. They may regret it moments later or years later, but sometimes something can come over a person and once the words come out they can’t be taken back.
It’s never too late to apologize. When I was in college I ran into a girl from Junior High who had done something horrible to me. We stopped to say hello and to my shock, she apologized. I’m sure it wasn’t easy, but it must have been bothering her for years. I’m not sure I would have been that courageous, but she taught me it is never too late.
Challenging yourself is better than taking the easy road. In 8th grade, due to a scheduling conflict, I got put into a Social Studies class that was a level lower than I normally took. I was the teacher’s pet, got perfect grades, and barely had to lift a finger. And I was bored silly.
Life-long friendships are possible. I am still close to two of my friends from Junior High (Kelly? Mindy? Are you reading this?), and although our lives have taken us to different places and different parts of the country, when we do connect it is effort-less.
Family will always pick you up. The joke in my family is that whenever someone said or did anything hurtful to me (which happened more than necessary in Junior High) my mom and sisters would always respond with “they are just jealous of you”. It probably wasn’t always true, but it always made me feel better.
Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t all bad by any means. I do remember being a part of the school volleyball team, the all-night slumber parties, the new independence, my first “boyfriend” and first kiss in the school gym. More than anything, I have to laugh at it all now as an adult. The things that seemed so important then are so small in the larger scheme of things. My wish for Noah is that he will figure that out earlier than later.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
When will it slow down?
I thought with the kids back in school, I would find more time to write, but that has not been the case. The kids completed their fifth day of school today, and I see no sign of things slowing down anytime soon. I haven't even had a day at home with nothing to do but "home" stuff. On the way back from the dump today I thought there may be an hour or so unaccounted for.... but instead of coming home to get a jump on dinner or put away laundry, I stopped in at my mom's and we had a diet coke with our feet up instead. There's time for that other stuff later.
Tonight I ran off for the first PTO meeting at the middle school - my former junior high, but that's another whole blog post. I had direct orders from Jason as I ran out the door that I was to sit quietly in the back, silently support my friends on the board, and not volunteer for anything. For the first time ever he told me that if I take anything more on, he was sure something will suffer. After a little pressing from me, I think he halfway admitted it would be his dinner, or the laundry, the lawn not getting mowed, or our time together that suffered, but I'm not 100% sure on that. I did leave the meeting with a short list of the needs they have in the copy room, the library and the school store though. Better defrost some more veggie burgers.
Tonight I ran off for the first PTO meeting at the middle school - my former junior high, but that's another whole blog post. I had direct orders from Jason as I ran out the door that I was to sit quietly in the back, silently support my friends on the board, and not volunteer for anything. For the first time ever he told me that if I take anything more on, he was sure something will suffer. After a little pressing from me, I think he halfway admitted it would be his dinner, or the laundry, the lawn not getting mowed, or our time together that suffered, but I'm not 100% sure on that. I did leave the meeting with a short list of the needs they have in the copy room, the library and the school store though. Better defrost some more veggie burgers.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Ten things that made me smile this summer
Another summer has flown by and school begins next week. We have a busy few days ahead of us with sneaker shopping, haircuts, organizing supplies and cleaning out dressers, but I did want to stop and reflect on a few things that made me smile this summer.
#1 - "Mom, can you believe I'm the only Jewish kid in the entire CCD class?" I hope the second grade teacher is prepared for this little girl!
#2 - Watching Jason's face light up when I suggested he take his motorcycle out to do some errands for me.
#3 - Watching my kids enjoy the lake where I spent my childhood summers.
#4 - Boogie boarding the perfect wave with the help of Jason's cousin, Luke.
#5 - Spending four days with my two nieces, Gina and Maddie, and seeing so much of my brother and sister in them!
#6 - Spending a grown-up evening out with Jason and my family for a wedding in Boston.
#7 - Watching the sun rise at the beach with Jason and the kids and then going out for breakfast.
#8 - Running the first PTO Board Meeting of the year and actually knowing what I was doing this time.
#9 - Spending time with my friends and laughing until my cheeks hurt.
#10 - Blueberries
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