Indigo Girl

Summer

It's summer and I'm doing summer things and haven't felt like sitting at the computer. I can keep up with email and twitter on my phone. I can FEEL the memories slipping away, though, and I'm trying to take pictures so I have a way to recall them.

A took E to a Tigers' game a few weeks ago and they had a great time. He said that traveling with her and watching the game with her wasn't any more difficult than being by himself. She was an ideal companion. She read her most recent Bone book for most of the drive and played games on the iPad. They got hot dogs and cotton candy and souveniers and had great seats for a home team win.

L, C, and I went to a movie, spent an hour at a bounce house, and then played on the airport escalators until A's sister and her family arrived from Germany. They're here for three weeks and Karen was kind enough to brave ridiculously hot temperatures and take some family pictures of us. This one is my favorite of our family, but we took one inside a giant button sculpture, too, and then A and I jumped off of it. 

We went with our German family and my in-laws to Great Wolf Lodge last week. I prepared my children for the fact that it's summer, not the usual February week we go, so there would be more people, longer lines, etc. When we walked into the park, our jaws dropped because it was practically empty. I asked one of the workers why and he told me that the hotel was booked with a lame (implied) insurance clerk conference and few attendees had brought their families. It was AWESOME. There were times that no one was in the kiddie pool area or on the lily pads or we'd get to the top of the big slides and the lifeguards would be standing around chatting so we'd go down the slide, climb back up, and they had gone back to chatting because no one else had come up since us. I would pay extra to know when those kinds of conferences are.

I took L to get some groceries with me when we got back from GWL and gave into her pleading for the U-scan even though we had a lot of stuff. She was a whiz at scanning things and I bagged everything. I only had to show her ONCE how to look up fruits and vegetables and she was faster than 90% of the adults I've waited in line behind. Now she wants to be a grocer.

We are eating a lot of ice cream - Mint Moose Tracks is the current favorite - and all three kids like to choose two different flavors for their bowls. At first it was just L, but then I told her that my mom used to do that - usually a scoop of chocolate and a scoop of mint chocolate chip - and suddenly it's the cool thing to do.

Every night I am trying to remember to be thankful that I do not have any school lunches to pack.

Six Years

Last night I reminded A that I have a haircut appointment tonight and commented, "Is it horrible to be getting a haircut on the anniversary of my mom's death?" He is a loyal husband and said I wasn't an ungrateful daughter unless my mom happened to hate haircuts and all they stood for. Then we laughed and I felt a pang, because my mom would have laughed at that joke, too, and she and I laughed the same laugh - loudly at first, then silently with tears streaming down our cheeks and great, big gulping squeaks.

I think it's probably normal to be here today, going to my usual Wednesday class at the Y, taking my kids to karate, grilling chicken for dinner. I don't see how sequestering myself and crying would be healthy or helpful unless it's what I want to do.

I miss my mom every single day, but if I am being honest, I have to tell you that it feels more normal to have her NOT here. I hate that. I don't want it to be normal that she's dead, but it is. I expect it's the progression of grief and life, but I don't have to like it.

I was hustling my kids upstairs for pajamas and toothbrushing on Monday night and I started saying, "HUP TWO THREE FOUR!" and they love that, so they immediately fell into line and started marching, then singing the elephant song from The Jungle Book. I told them how my mom loved that song; the elephants were her favorite part of that movie.

I tell them about my mom every time it occurs to me. L has her forehead, E is her spitting image when she's wearing a ponytail or hat (? - I don't know why either), and C shares her middle name. Plus, I'm so much like her that there's always something I can mention. Every time I think, "Eff. I have to water those damn plants again," I remember how much my mom loved gardening and we talk about the pansies that we planted for her and how she gave me my own full-sun garden when I was their age and I filled it with snapdragons. 

DirtyTime

It's been summertime weather and I love it, but what I don't love is having smelly children and getting only ONE clothing wear between washings. (I should probably store up love for the cold weather whenever I can.) No, you cannot wear those shorts again when they are stinky and sweat-stained. So that is three outfits per day that go directly into the wash x7 days. But it is not really the DOING of laundry that wearies me - it is the putting away. Doing laundry entails pushing some knobs and carrying some baskets and dumping some detergent. Putting away entails sorting and hanging and folding and thinking sadly that everything should probably be dumped out, sorted through, and started over from the beginning.

E of the stinky pits started wearing deodorant this school year, so she is definitely the hardest hit by the heat and sweating. Sadly, she is also the least concerned with thorough cleansing. I don't want to make her feel self-conscious or give anyone issues about their bodies, but sweat glands are prolific in your armpits and crotch and you need to use SOAP to wash those bad boys. I don't feel like I'm overly concerned with hygiene (I am a once-per-day, sometimes every-other-day showerer), but she is the type of kid who will never notice that taking a shower=using soap unless it is pointed out to her. REPEATEDLY.

 Summer weather also makes me want to drink something out of a bottle and since I don't like beer, I've been experimenting with hard cider. Since an unfortunate incident with white wine (no details necessary, but I did drink an entire big bottle of white wine - what is that, a magnum? - by myself and I am still filled with regret), I don't drink it anymore. Red wine is always good, even in the summer, but sometimes I want a bottle of something to sip while I'm making dinner or reading on the steps while the kids play. I wish I liked beer, but every sniff reminds me of A's college fraternity house.

 Speaking of A, he's coming home tomorrow and no one has has scratched my back or rubbed my feet ALL WEEK and if that isn't a First World Problem then I don't know what is. 

Failing at Greek Yogurt

Sunday morning I dropped A off at the airport again and my kids off at my in-laws' house before heading back to sleep and go to work. I'm a single parent until Friday afternoon while A is gallivanting all over a spectacular city and doing extravagant things like riding the subway. L: "He's SOOOO LUCKY!" Despite having my phone pre-dialed to 9-1-1, I don't sleep as well without him here and our tupperware drawer has gotten messy.

I've been trying to like Greek yogurt because it's . . . I don't know, the new thing? Healthier? Less sugar, more protein? Most of us don't need more protein, but I could do with less sugar, I'm sure. I bought the vanilla-honey kind to use in my strawberry parfaits, but I need to add a liberal amount of honey to make it palatable. The Greek yogurt tastes more like sour cream, I think, and I don't care for sour cream.

I've also started making homemade coffee creamer and I'm still experimenting with different recipes. If you have a good one - specifically for hazelnut and peppermint - please share! I found an organic hippie recipe that is sweetened with maple syrup, but the one that has sweetened condensed milk is way yummier.

 C had her last day of preschool today and I am filled with bittersweetness. On one hand, I will have all three kids in full-day school and can look for a new job. On the other hand, I fear change. And there is something about no longer having any kids at home that makes me feel one step closer to death. I felt the same way when I no longer had a baby to put in the baby nursery at church. Hello, mortality!

It Is Not My Fault You're Not Wearing Underwear

As I was handing E her dress to put on for the spring concert last night, I saw her glance down and then look guiltily at me. I said, "What?" and learned that she hadn't worn underwear to school that day. I smothered my laugh, told her to put her shorts directly into the laundry, and asked why. "You didn't set any out!" she protested. OMG. Are you not EIGHT? Oh, if only there was a place where we kept your underwear and if only you had hands in order to access it! I fail to see how YOUR lack of underwear is MY fault. Sheesh. 

The concert itself was awful. I mean, I loved seeing the children singing so happily. It left me wanting to gnaw my own arm off to relieve my boredom. I mean, I was filled with joy. 

(I don't FEEL excessively negative, but I have two more mild complaints before getting to some happier stuff.)

E brought home a letter from school and when she handed it to me, I raised my eyebrow and asked, "Am I in trouble?" She laughed and said no and I asked, "Are YOU in trouble?" It turns out that I AM in trouble under the guise of appreciation. The letter thanked me for my volunteer work at school this year and I (among others) am to be publicly recognized at an assembly next week. WARNING! WARNING! INTROVERT VOLUNTEER REGRET! A laughed and commented, "Most people who say 'I don't do it for the recognition really mean 'I like the recognition, but I would do it anyway.' You actually mean 'Don't recognize me publicly or I will cease volunteering!'"

I hope that it'll be an "All the volunteers, please stand up!" followed by polite clapping, but E told me that last year everyone got called by name and had to go up front and their volunteer contribution was noted.

C's preschool has their end-of-the-year fun day at the park and I don't want to go. It'll be my forth preschool fun day and I'm bored with them. I started thinking about people with multiple kids and I wonder how they find enthusiasm for doing the same thing for kid No. 3+? I only have to go through everything twice and there are already things I'd like to skip (see above music concert). On the other hand, some things I feel MORE comfortable with and enjoy MORE with C because it's not new and scary anymore. Maybe it all evens out?

E and L scored high enough on their national standardized tests that we got free donuts again this morning. E got singled out of from the rest of the 2nd graders because she scored greater than 90th percentile on all three tests. L got called up at the end of the program with a dozen other kids who scored in the 99th percentile on at least one test. The principal told everyone that she was in the 99th percentile on TWO of the tests and they should get her autograph now because she'll be president one day. If you know L, you know she loves the idea of being in charge and she was beaming.

They got bad news, too, in the form of being cut from the talent show. On one hand, their "dance" was . . . not exceptional (I tried to talk them into doing some karate, but no go) and the audition rules stated quite clearly that not everyone would make it. On the other hand, it's an elementary school talent show, so who cares? Let everyone in! Still, I think it's better to learn that you don't always make the cut when you are young and the stakes are low than be stunned when you interview for your first job and are rejected. Sometimes you work hard and succeed, sometimes you work hard and fail, sometime you don't work hard and succeed anyway, sometimes you don't work hard and fail. That last one is the least surprising.