Who knew that earthquakes in Chile would result in a tomato shortage? So, because we sell quite a bit of produce during the peak season at our shop, and we are unwilling to pay 2-3x normal cost for sub-par tomatoes, we are busy building large square gardens to grow tomatoes in.
Llama and I had planted two smaller 4x4 gardens with cucumbers, lettuce, green beans, carrots, strawberries and cantelope. Just enough for our family.Now we are going to be tending 3 or 4 8x8 gardens full of tomatoes,onions and bell peppers- all in short supply this year. Fun, fun. At least, because they are raised beds, we won't be stooped over weeding all season. Now to keep fire ants and animals out...
Spring brings with it 30mph sustained winds, which ruins the 80* fun. We were 6 days short of the 100 year old record for number of days below 80*, until today. If you've ever lived in Texas, you know that's a big deal. Hopefully April will be softer and mild. I'm so not ready for the Texas heat.
I also hope April will bring better things for Joe Cool. Without details, poor Joe is deep in the throws of 15. He is like a cable TV channel- All Drama, All the Time, 24/7, 12 months, 365- and yesterday was the Special Movie-of-the-week. He surprised us with a subtle (not) hint of what turmoil is going on in his mind. Joe is the strong, silent type. Unless he yells back, I don't have a clue what he's feeling or thinking. I didn't yell at him, and he didn't yell back. He didn't say a word, yet I heard him loud and clear. And poor kid forgets he lives in a small town, where news spreads fast- thankfully he was home before all my hair fell out.
So, now I am left looking around and into myself. Am I too smothering? Too hard? Too soft? Too vocal? What do I not understand, and why don't I get it? Cool Daddy didn't seem too upset- he got right to the heart of the matter and laughed it off. I had nightmares. I hurt for him. I wish I could take his cares away.
Today I want to crawl into Joe's head and dig around until I get it. Maybe it's not just him, but all males. I hope Llama girl isn't like this. I hope, because she's a girl, that she will be more verbal with her thoughts. There isn't anything wrong with Joe, I'm just a woman who looks at the male species through a telescope.He's on Mars, I'm on Venus. And the mental cell phone service here bites.
Spring Fever also brings that ridiculous thing we call Daylight Savings Time. That wonderful thing that makes us stay out late, enjoying the warmth and tending the yard, that thing that makes us not sleepy at bed time- also makes us all look like zombies in the morning. Poor Llama is still bouncing around at 10pm, only to stand in the living room at 7am looking like she isn't going to survive her late night bender.
So, between the yard, the time, the garden, the laundry, the dishes, and the errands, I am trying to get a grip on this new reality. The time has changed, the seasons as well. And I hope that the new fragile state of Joe is temporary. That he doesn't break. That with Gods help, we can hold him tenderly enough to protect him, support him and help him move forward with as few dings, chips or cracks as possible. After all, anyone who has a Joe Cool or Llama, Llama in their possession understands just what precious, and valued treasures they are. Priceless.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Growing Boy
Joe Cool got his letter jacket today. He looked so "cool" sauntering into the house, waiting for us to ooo-ahhh over him. Now, just by looking at his coat, I know what year he graduates, his last name, what instrument he plays and for sure, that his school colors are purple & white. So awesome.
In the last few weeks, really- more like every day- I see him growing up. Making decisions. Not always good ones, like having no good reason for not turning in math work on time. But still, generally speaking, more mature decisions.
Out of the same mouth that can rattled on about sports highlights, and whine about not getting his way, comes things like: "Dad, when I get my license, I think I should drive Old Flaky to school and you should drive the Ranger, because the Ranger gets better gas mileage, and you have farther to go to work. Then, when I leave for college, I will drive it, cuz I will be driving farther."
It really is fun to watch the lights switch on in that brain of his. He is even trying to outgrow the drama of girls. Gossipy girls. Dramatic, over-the-top girls. Lead-him-around-by-the-ring-in-his-nose girls. Now he has settled on a girl that is sweet, funny, hard working, gentle, and-this is very important- can't text, so they talk on the phone-a lot! Sigh. It's (sniffle) beautiful. Not saying he won't be a dork sometimes, but we are so glad to see him try to pull that ring out of his nose (not literally-his dad would kill him) and start leading himself around with his brain!
Joe's report card last time was even good. Well, good for him. No failing grades. Mostly A's. He wouldn't have had C's in 2 classes if he had turned his work in on time- the direct result of refusing to write things down, and trying to rely on a 15 yr-old boy brain to remember all he has to do. (yeah, that's funny).
It's really wild to know that scientifically, boys don't mature to their best until around 24- that sense of reason, logic and consequences is still trying to fully form. So if it seems he is doing this good, that he is this good NOW- what in the world will he be like THEN? Blows my mind.
Of course, we haven't ventured into the dating scene yet. It's coming quickly, the license will be obtained this summer. He smells good when he leaves for school, takes extra time brushing his braces (wonder why?) and fusses with his hair and face more. He has even been occasionally cleaning his room-voluntarily. No joke. Shocked me, too. Me thinks that red-headed girl is a good influence. :)
I really have no point to this, other than to marvel at what God made when he made teenagers. I wonder- when people lived 800+ years, how long did the adolescent phase last? I can't imagine funky gym socks and attitude for 50 years! Yikes!
If you have ever seen Snoopy as Joe Cool, you know how my Joe rolls- sometimes Cool, sometimes he loses it, always waiting for more food with empty bowl in hand... and yet, he dances that dance, that famous Snoopy dance- chin back, big grin on- groovin' to his own beat and learning to navigate around his world in his happy, carefree way.
In the last few weeks, really- more like every day- I see him growing up. Making decisions. Not always good ones, like having no good reason for not turning in math work on time. But still, generally speaking, more mature decisions.
Out of the same mouth that can rattled on about sports highlights, and whine about not getting his way, comes things like: "Dad, when I get my license, I think I should drive Old Flaky to school and you should drive the Ranger, because the Ranger gets better gas mileage, and you have farther to go to work. Then, when I leave for college, I will drive it, cuz I will be driving farther."
It really is fun to watch the lights switch on in that brain of his. He is even trying to outgrow the drama of girls. Gossipy girls. Dramatic, over-the-top girls. Lead-him-around-by-the-ring-in-his-nose girls. Now he has settled on a girl that is sweet, funny, hard working, gentle, and-this is very important- can't text, so they talk on the phone-a lot! Sigh. It's (sniffle) beautiful. Not saying he won't be a dork sometimes, but we are so glad to see him try to pull that ring out of his nose (not literally-his dad would kill him) and start leading himself around with his brain!
Joe's report card last time was even good. Well, good for him. No failing grades. Mostly A's. He wouldn't have had C's in 2 classes if he had turned his work in on time- the direct result of refusing to write things down, and trying to rely on a 15 yr-old boy brain to remember all he has to do. (yeah, that's funny).
It's really wild to know that scientifically, boys don't mature to their best until around 24- that sense of reason, logic and consequences is still trying to fully form. So if it seems he is doing this good, that he is this good NOW- what in the world will he be like THEN? Blows my mind.
Of course, we haven't ventured into the dating scene yet. It's coming quickly, the license will be obtained this summer. He smells good when he leaves for school, takes extra time brushing his braces (wonder why?) and fusses with his hair and face more. He has even been occasionally cleaning his room-voluntarily. No joke. Shocked me, too. Me thinks that red-headed girl is a good influence. :)
I really have no point to this, other than to marvel at what God made when he made teenagers. I wonder- when people lived 800+ years, how long did the adolescent phase last? I can't imagine funky gym socks and attitude for 50 years! Yikes!
If you have ever seen Snoopy as Joe Cool, you know how my Joe rolls- sometimes Cool, sometimes he loses it, always waiting for more food with empty bowl in hand... and yet, he dances that dance, that famous Snoopy dance- chin back, big grin on- groovin' to his own beat and learning to navigate around his world in his happy, carefree way.
Monday, March 8, 2010
She's 5
My Llama is 5. Last night I commented on the behavior of 5-year-old's, and it really hit me. My baby is 5. My unexpected, but secretly begged for, bundle of love is 5. My precocious, obnoxious, joyous, boisterous, one-of-a-kind Princess, is 5.
1- you were a blur. 2- you were a delight. 3- you were what I thought 2 would be. 4- you were a rapid-fire pistol with a hair trigger. What does 5 mean? It will be interesting to wait and see.
I will for sure have to be more careful with my sarcastic 'whit'- yesterday she asked me why I wear makeup to church, to which I replied, " so I don't scare people". Well, no more than 20 minutes later, while arguing with her about what she could take to Bible class with her, she agreed to leave the tiara behind, but the purple lipstick was staying in her pink-casted grip. Why? "Because I have to keep putting it on when it comes off, so I am beautiful and so I don't scare people." sigh.
She was doing cartwheels this weekend. Yes- with her cast on, her arm bent at 90 degrees. No, I don't know how. But with her 3 week check up this week, if the doctor suggests a shorter cast, I may ask him how having a free-to-move elbow and cart wheels will affect the healing. Amazing how determined she can be! She was trying to swing on the monkey bars as well. I think if the cast material between her thumb and first finger had not been so bulky, she would have been swinging across them proudly.
I sometimes wonder: what do others think of my girl? What do they think of us as parents? She is forward, open and stubborn. But I truly sometimes have a hard time holding her back. Oh, we expect respect and obedience. But my heart really doesn't want to slow her down. I secretly rejoice in her wild abandon. I admire her bravado. I envy her determination. I don't want to stifle her, so I try to direct her. Several times I have said, and others have told me, that she will be a hand full as a teen. We are hoping to direct her toward things that will allow her to be the joy that she is.
Like a Dandelion. I don't want to pick the wild out of this flower, or try to contain it, only to watch it wither away. I want to see her grow, wildly beautiful, on her own terms. Not easily controlled, looked on with disdain by some as a pesky weed, but loved by others as a fun, happy flower that springs up overnight, ready to play- blow! blow! blow! come dance and twirl in the winds with me! Ah, I can see her- can you?
My Dandelion- made by God, and therefore, worthy of a chance to BE. I pray for God's guidance to help her grow in praise of Him and the flower He has created.
My Dandelion is 5, watch out world- here she comes.
1- you were a blur. 2- you were a delight. 3- you were what I thought 2 would be. 4- you were a rapid-fire pistol with a hair trigger. What does 5 mean? It will be interesting to wait and see.
I will for sure have to be more careful with my sarcastic 'whit'- yesterday she asked me why I wear makeup to church, to which I replied, " so I don't scare people". Well, no more than 20 minutes later, while arguing with her about what she could take to Bible class with her, she agreed to leave the tiara behind, but the purple lipstick was staying in her pink-casted grip. Why? "Because I have to keep putting it on when it comes off, so I am beautiful and so I don't scare people." sigh.
She was doing cartwheels this weekend. Yes- with her cast on, her arm bent at 90 degrees. No, I don't know how. But with her 3 week check up this week, if the doctor suggests a shorter cast, I may ask him how having a free-to-move elbow and cart wheels will affect the healing. Amazing how determined she can be! She was trying to swing on the monkey bars as well. I think if the cast material between her thumb and first finger had not been so bulky, she would have been swinging across them proudly.
I sometimes wonder: what do others think of my girl? What do they think of us as parents? She is forward, open and stubborn. But I truly sometimes have a hard time holding her back. Oh, we expect respect and obedience. But my heart really doesn't want to slow her down. I secretly rejoice in her wild abandon. I admire her bravado. I envy her determination. I don't want to stifle her, so I try to direct her. Several times I have said, and others have told me, that she will be a hand full as a teen. We are hoping to direct her toward things that will allow her to be the joy that she is.
Like a Dandelion. I don't want to pick the wild out of this flower, or try to contain it, only to watch it wither away. I want to see her grow, wildly beautiful, on her own terms. Not easily controlled, looked on with disdain by some as a pesky weed, but loved by others as a fun, happy flower that springs up overnight, ready to play- blow! blow! blow! come dance and twirl in the winds with me! Ah, I can see her- can you?
My Dandelion- made by God, and therefore, worthy of a chance to BE. I pray for God's guidance to help her grow in praise of Him and the flower He has created.
My Dandelion is 5, watch out world- here she comes.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Broken hearts and arms
Joe Cool is grounded from his phone, again.Poor guy just doesn't think the ground rules apply to him, apparently. No deleting texts. No calls or texts after 9pm. No asking girls out or breaking up via text. No offensive messages or pictures from or to you.
I just don't understand how stupid kids think we adults are. I mean, in my day, my parents had no proof of secret conversations on the phone (unless the calls were long distance, and realllly long- say to that guy you were in love with that you talked to for hours on end) (what? i paid them back!). If a kid decided then to deceive her parents, it was way easier than it is today. Today, cell phones exist. Every kid has one or wants one. It doesn't fly that they can't call, didn't know what time it was, didn't hear it ring, or had the phone off. Because all parents know that the teens text constantly, check messages compulsively and never have it on ring, but they answer those vibrating tones quicker than a viper strikes.
I am not a mom that wants to snoop. I really don't want to know everything that is going on in my kids life. But when their behavior and attitude warrant it, I am not above snooping like the best blood hound on the planet. And my poor son just doesn't get it. He was shocked that his use of the cell phone/texting for multiple break-ups and renewed vows of love with the same girl over 3 days, plus the late night texts, deleted conversations, and the final straw of compulsively calling and texting another girl (who was at work and couldn't talk) to ask her out (for the Nth time) resulted in loss of phone use. Seriously? Seriously?!
So, he is phone-less and actually SPOKE on a real phone with his VOICE yesterday- to a GIRL. It was amazing. I don't know when he will get his cell phone back, but I am in no hurry- this is kinda fun...of course it would be even more nostalgic if the land-line phone he used still had a 50ft. coiled cord attached that snaked down the hallway and under his locked door....but watching his leap like a gazelle to grab the cordless was fun,too. :) I jsut wish there was a way to pick up the other cordless phone and start dialing over their conversations...LOL.
Llama girl has been busy as well. She got sick with an ear infection and tonsillitis, after regular doctors office hours, of course. Did you ever notice that a child has 10 times the energy after recovering? Well, by Sunday, my Llama was so wired with renewed health, we had to sit in the back at church because she just couldn't sit still- or rather, she wouldn't quit sitting upside down with her feet waving in the face of the people in the pew behind us. For all the wonderful technology that antibiotic medication is, what with saving lives and all- Zithromax broke my Llama's arm.
OK, so not literally. But curing her infections and all that energy made her decide that she might be Olympics bound with this. very. cartwheel. Watch Me!!!!! Nothing unusual for her, she does cartwheels and flips all the time. She took off running, planted her hands down, flipped over...and landed on her stomach because her arm broke mid-flip.
So, now we have an almost 5 year-old in a bright pink cast. For. 6-8. WEEKS.
It was a clean break, no complications. Lots of attention, gifts, cards and sympathy, poor baby girl, right? Oh, wait- we almost forgot who we are speaking of. Her name IS Llama, Llama, Girlie Drama for a REASON!!!
So, she is one-winged and acts like an invalid when it suits her, particularly when I am cooking supper, or when it is time to clean up her room. Her casted arm only itches when she is sleepy, and the new complaint last night was that the cotton lining was sticking to her hand?!
This is Day 5 of logging my slow decent into insanity. Take note so that when my trial begins, I will have a legitimate defense, please.
I just don't understand how stupid kids think we adults are. I mean, in my day, my parents had no proof of secret conversations on the phone (unless the calls were long distance, and realllly long- say to that guy you were in love with that you talked to for hours on end) (what? i paid them back!). If a kid decided then to deceive her parents, it was way easier than it is today. Today, cell phones exist. Every kid has one or wants one. It doesn't fly that they can't call, didn't know what time it was, didn't hear it ring, or had the phone off. Because all parents know that the teens text constantly, check messages compulsively and never have it on ring, but they answer those vibrating tones quicker than a viper strikes.
I am not a mom that wants to snoop. I really don't want to know everything that is going on in my kids life. But when their behavior and attitude warrant it, I am not above snooping like the best blood hound on the planet. And my poor son just doesn't get it. He was shocked that his use of the cell phone/texting for multiple break-ups and renewed vows of love with the same girl over 3 days, plus the late night texts, deleted conversations, and the final straw of compulsively calling and texting another girl (who was at work and couldn't talk) to ask her out (for the Nth time) resulted in loss of phone use. Seriously? Seriously?!
So, he is phone-less and actually SPOKE on a real phone with his VOICE yesterday- to a GIRL. It was amazing. I don't know when he will get his cell phone back, but I am in no hurry- this is kinda fun...of course it would be even more nostalgic if the land-line phone he used still had a 50ft. coiled cord attached that snaked down the hallway and under his locked door....but watching his leap like a gazelle to grab the cordless was fun,too. :) I jsut wish there was a way to pick up the other cordless phone and start dialing over their conversations...LOL.
Llama girl has been busy as well. She got sick with an ear infection and tonsillitis, after regular doctors office hours, of course. Did you ever notice that a child has 10 times the energy after recovering? Well, by Sunday, my Llama was so wired with renewed health, we had to sit in the back at church because she just couldn't sit still- or rather, she wouldn't quit sitting upside down with her feet waving in the face of the people in the pew behind us. For all the wonderful technology that antibiotic medication is, what with saving lives and all- Zithromax broke my Llama's arm.
OK, so not literally. But curing her infections and all that energy made her decide that she might be Olympics bound with this. very. cartwheel. Watch Me!!!!! Nothing unusual for her, she does cartwheels and flips all the time. She took off running, planted her hands down, flipped over...and landed on her stomach because her arm broke mid-flip.
So, now we have an almost 5 year-old in a bright pink cast. For. 6-8. WEEKS.
It was a clean break, no complications. Lots of attention, gifts, cards and sympathy, poor baby girl, right? Oh, wait- we almost forgot who we are speaking of. Her name IS Llama, Llama, Girlie Drama for a REASON!!!
So, she is one-winged and acts like an invalid when it suits her, particularly when I am cooking supper, or when it is time to clean up her room. Her casted arm only itches when she is sleepy, and the new complaint last night was that the cotton lining was sticking to her hand?!
This is Day 5 of logging my slow decent into insanity. Take note so that when my trial begins, I will have a legitimate defense, please.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Procrastination
Procrastination is my middle name. I do my best work when put in a crunch. Well, that's what I used to tell myself. Then I had kids. I have since learned, slowly, that things that I put off until Scarlett O'Hara's famous "tomorr'a is anoth'a day" rarely get done. Not only that, but then I have to explain to my husband why I didn't do it. Talk about feeling like a kid caught with my hand in the cookie jar.
So, today I am procrastinating doing the last of our tax stuff. We have QuickBooks online, which links to our bank account, and has made my life 90% easier when it comes to entering expenses in the register. All too easy. So easy that I have gotten 8 months behind in entering the details of those entries. I see that the phone bill cleared the bank, and that QB logged it- but the darned QB doesn't enter the name of the bill or what category it goes under- just the amount. Sigh. SO, now I am playing avoidance with my Boss- who happens to be my husband. Are we ready to turn our taxes in yet...ummmmmmm, not quite ready, dear. This week! Promise! that was last week...
So I guess I will get it done today...I hate having to get things done, why can't I put it off until tomorrow?
I suppose I learned at an early age that procrastinating was good for me. Waiting to finish homework, especially writing book reports, almost always resulted in good grades. Not to say all my grades were good- just those that I waited to finish. I still find my self waiting, pondering, dwelling on things in my mind. I am teaching K-2 grade Bible class right now and do I spend all week planning our class activity? Have you not been reading this? So I find myself, at 20 minutes before the bell, scrounging for glue, and darting around in the rain for sticks to make a picture of Abraham & Isaac. And the project came out well and was fun!
BUT, this bad habit has resulted in me putting off serious exercise and diet habits for 10 years. Come to think of it, the last time I got serious about getting healthy was 2 years ago, when I went to a "Military brat" reunion. Again, I had a deadline- I needed to be thinner. What is my motivation now? Hmmmmmm. I was thinking of something like a jar with money in it- $1 for every pound I have to lose. I get the money back with each lost pound....but, no, that isn't motivating enough. Sigh. I am working on working toward motivating myself to do this. It is incredibly hard to change a life-long habit. So, I will think on it....perhaps tomorrow....after all....
TOMORROW IS ANOTHER DAY!
So, today I am procrastinating doing the last of our tax stuff. We have QuickBooks online, which links to our bank account, and has made my life 90% easier when it comes to entering expenses in the register. All too easy. So easy that I have gotten 8 months behind in entering the details of those entries. I see that the phone bill cleared the bank, and that QB logged it- but the darned QB doesn't enter the name of the bill or what category it goes under- just the amount. Sigh. SO, now I am playing avoidance with my Boss- who happens to be my husband. Are we ready to turn our taxes in yet...ummmmmmm, not quite ready, dear. This week! Promise! that was last week...
So I guess I will get it done today...I hate having to get things done, why can't I put it off until tomorrow?
I suppose I learned at an early age that procrastinating was good for me. Waiting to finish homework, especially writing book reports, almost always resulted in good grades. Not to say all my grades were good- just those that I waited to finish. I still find my self waiting, pondering, dwelling on things in my mind. I am teaching K-2 grade Bible class right now and do I spend all week planning our class activity? Have you not been reading this? So I find myself, at 20 minutes before the bell, scrounging for glue, and darting around in the rain for sticks to make a picture of Abraham & Isaac. And the project came out well and was fun!
BUT, this bad habit has resulted in me putting off serious exercise and diet habits for 10 years. Come to think of it, the last time I got serious about getting healthy was 2 years ago, when I went to a "Military brat" reunion. Again, I had a deadline- I needed to be thinner. What is my motivation now? Hmmmmmm. I was thinking of something like a jar with money in it- $1 for every pound I have to lose. I get the money back with each lost pound....but, no, that isn't motivating enough. Sigh. I am working on working toward motivating myself to do this. It is incredibly hard to change a life-long habit. So, I will think on it....perhaps tomorrow....after all....
TOMORROW IS ANOTHER DAY!
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Old Friends and Memories
Ok, so first let me say, it is not easy to get out of the house on a Wednesday. Alone. On time. I was late leaving, got muddy in the rain, had no time to go buy that cute top I just know was waiting for me at the store, and everyone was driving 50mph on the highway. Dropped Llama at a friends and dashed out- humidity induced frizz frizzing behind me. I was an hour late.
I was an hour late to visit my long lost BFF's, the ones I fretted about seeing. And of course, I was silly to worry. Yes, I am still fat. Yes, I still need to shop for some cuter duds- so I looked shlumpy. But as soon as the door opened- voila- a hug, a look, and we were pals again. (a bummer that one friend couldn't make it- Connie lives 4 hours away)
It had been 22 years since 2 of us moved away. Chris still lives there in the big city, Jasmine has been in Australia for 18 years, and I am in a small rural town, Population 500. Between the three of us, there was more gray, more wrinkles, 5 marriages (2,2,1) and 10 children (4,4,2). Strangers with a common past.
But the more we talked, about the past and our lives now, the more familiar we became. The faces might have changed, but the voice, the mannerisms and the things that make us quirky and unique are the same. And the eyes - I could see my memories in their eyes. I understand now exactly how effective those pictures with the eyes blacked out can be. You think you know who that is, but without the eyes, are you sure?
Oddly, we all intended to bring pictures to share and we all forgot.
I got to meet their spouses. It was great fun to talk with an Australian that has never been to America. Jazz' husband, Mark is a witty, smart man. He commented on how many restaurants we have and how unique the bright yellow school buses are to us. And, of course, that we drive on the wrong side of the road. Oh, and when are we going to go with the rest of the world to the Metric System? (I wonder that myself, my teachers lied- I don't think we're any closer to doing that since they tried to convince us that we needed to learn it!) He takes wonderful pictures. And the accent is greatness. Australians end their words on an up-note. Life sounds more pleasant when ending on an up-note.
Mindy, Chris' wife, was quiet but pleasant, and clearly loves her husband. Like so many have in this down economy, she just recently found another job after being out of work for awhile. She doesn't like her new job, but is glad to have one at all. With 4 children, I can imagine the financial strain!
Unfortunately, Jazz was in town because her father passed away recently. A sad reason to come home. She is the youngest of 6, so her 2 week visit is full of family. I am hoping they might get to come my way before she leaves. Maybe. Her family is busy trying to give them real Texas experiences. What is that? They did the rodeo and stockyards. They bought some cowboy boots. Good enough.
We shared our fleeting memories of our time together. Through the bits and pieces we had a few funny stories- the swimming pool, boys we had crushes on, music we loved. I think without the spouses we would have reminisced more, but not wanting to be rude, we didn't. 4 hours later and we are yawning. Parents with responsibilities. Bummer. I would have loved to stay up all night and get to know them all again. But alas, life happens.
So we took some pictures, we hugged and parted ways. Through the world of cyberspace, we will stay in touch. But this wonderful time was an example of what I tell my son- Facebook, MySpace, email,Texting- none of it is nearly as good as a face-to-face. There is nothing personal about talking with your keyboard. Communication is 90% body language. Our visit was relaxed and familiar. I am so glad to have gotten to see them both and meet their spouses.
Perhaps one day I will make it to Australia. I have always wanted to go. Until then, I will FB, Flikr and Skype. We forget over time how much we loved some people. We forget how important they were. We forget how influential they are in helping make us who we are. And to get the chance to remember in person is a gift. I am thankful.
I was an hour late to visit my long lost BFF's, the ones I fretted about seeing. And of course, I was silly to worry. Yes, I am still fat. Yes, I still need to shop for some cuter duds- so I looked shlumpy. But as soon as the door opened- voila- a hug, a look, and we were pals again. (a bummer that one friend couldn't make it- Connie lives 4 hours away)
It had been 22 years since 2 of us moved away. Chris still lives there in the big city, Jasmine has been in Australia for 18 years, and I am in a small rural town, Population 500. Between the three of us, there was more gray, more wrinkles, 5 marriages (2,2,1) and 10 children (4,4,2). Strangers with a common past.
But the more we talked, about the past and our lives now, the more familiar we became. The faces might have changed, but the voice, the mannerisms and the things that make us quirky and unique are the same. And the eyes - I could see my memories in their eyes. I understand now exactly how effective those pictures with the eyes blacked out can be. You think you know who that is, but without the eyes, are you sure?
Oddly, we all intended to bring pictures to share and we all forgot.
I got to meet their spouses. It was great fun to talk with an Australian that has never been to America. Jazz' husband, Mark is a witty, smart man. He commented on how many restaurants we have and how unique the bright yellow school buses are to us. And, of course, that we drive on the wrong side of the road. Oh, and when are we going to go with the rest of the world to the Metric System? (I wonder that myself, my teachers lied- I don't think we're any closer to doing that since they tried to convince us that we needed to learn it!) He takes wonderful pictures. And the accent is greatness. Australians end their words on an up-note. Life sounds more pleasant when ending on an up-note.
Mindy, Chris' wife, was quiet but pleasant, and clearly loves her husband. Like so many have in this down economy, she just recently found another job after being out of work for awhile. She doesn't like her new job, but is glad to have one at all. With 4 children, I can imagine the financial strain!
Unfortunately, Jazz was in town because her father passed away recently. A sad reason to come home. She is the youngest of 6, so her 2 week visit is full of family. I am hoping they might get to come my way before she leaves. Maybe. Her family is busy trying to give them real Texas experiences. What is that? They did the rodeo and stockyards. They bought some cowboy boots. Good enough.
We shared our fleeting memories of our time together. Through the bits and pieces we had a few funny stories- the swimming pool, boys we had crushes on, music we loved. I think without the spouses we would have reminisced more, but not wanting to be rude, we didn't. 4 hours later and we are yawning. Parents with responsibilities. Bummer. I would have loved to stay up all night and get to know them all again. But alas, life happens.
So we took some pictures, we hugged and parted ways. Through the world of cyberspace, we will stay in touch. But this wonderful time was an example of what I tell my son- Facebook, MySpace, email,Texting- none of it is nearly as good as a face-to-face. There is nothing personal about talking with your keyboard. Communication is 90% body language. Our visit was relaxed and familiar. I am so glad to have gotten to see them both and meet their spouses.
Perhaps one day I will make it to Australia. I have always wanted to go. Until then, I will FB, Flikr and Skype. We forget over time how much we loved some people. We forget how important they were. We forget how influential they are in helping make us who we are. And to get the chance to remember in person is a gift. I am thankful.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Frustration
I would love for someone to explain to me how one teenager can be all about getting good grades for college, and another is all about doing as little as necessary to keep average to sub-par grades?
Care to guess which category Joe Cool is in? I know the problem is that he doesn't want to deal with the pressure of hard work- he avoids it like the plague. Not a high-stress coping kind of guy. Hopefully, he will live a long life by being his mellow, fun-loving self.
To make it even better (by that , I mean worse), he got his results back on the ACT test- basically a test given to tell you, based on your scores, what area of skill you might consider for a career as an adult. It could be interesting, I suppose, to see if the test might help narrow down your choices since there is such a great big,wide world out there and deciding on one thing can be hard.
On the other hand, this test could also make you feel like a moron who is doomed to ditch digging in the swamps. Joe said he wanted to perhaps consider the education field- maybe a teacher. He was shot down. He was told he scored below college readiness in all areas- English, Math, Reading and Science. Why? Because he is not in honors classes. He was then given suggested career choices based on his scores...
My son, one of the most friendly, lovable, kind young men, was told he might consider Manufacturing(tool & dye maker, dry cleaner), Mechanics (Auto/aircraft mechanic), Transportation Operation (cab/bus driver-yes, it actually lists that), and some other jobs, none of which he has ever been interested in. While I do not consider any of these jobs bad, so to speak, I was very disheartened by the cold statistical analysis that presumes test scores to be an accurate measure of a persons abilities. He just might be a mechanic one day, and I pray he is happy regardless of what he chooses. But for some group of people to.... well, I won't get too wound up- you parents know where I am going with this.
And so, this has left his parents prayer harder, and fretting more over his already volatile self-esteem and future. Can he be whatever he chooses? Certainly. Can he go to college and be one of the best teachers on earth- Ab-So-Lutely. (can't he?)
Why then do we narrow the World of Opportunity for our children down to a "Career List" of 26 categories, A-Z?? My father used to promise me as a child that I could do anything I chose to if I just set my mind to it. I believed him then and I believe that now. Yes, hard work and determination are involved somewhere in the career equation. Right now, my son doesn't see that need. Perhaps he hasn't found a goal important enough to him to work that hard.
Like Peter Pan, he is trying to stay in Neverland, never to grow up, never to take on boring adult responsibilities. It is frustrating for him and his parents. Slowly I do see changes, so painfully slow at times. But, seriously, after being told by 4 graphs and 6 charts what you are good for...who wouldn't want to go with Peter to the Lost Boys hideout and never come out again? I just might pack our bags tonight! We're coming Tink!
Care to guess which category Joe Cool is in? I know the problem is that he doesn't want to deal with the pressure of hard work- he avoids it like the plague. Not a high-stress coping kind of guy. Hopefully, he will live a long life by being his mellow, fun-loving self.
To make it even better (by that , I mean worse), he got his results back on the ACT test- basically a test given to tell you, based on your scores, what area of skill you might consider for a career as an adult. It could be interesting, I suppose, to see if the test might help narrow down your choices since there is such a great big,wide world out there and deciding on one thing can be hard.
On the other hand, this test could also make you feel like a moron who is doomed to ditch digging in the swamps. Joe said he wanted to perhaps consider the education field- maybe a teacher. He was shot down. He was told he scored below college readiness in all areas- English, Math, Reading and Science. Why? Because he is not in honors classes. He was then given suggested career choices based on his scores...
My son, one of the most friendly, lovable, kind young men, was told he might consider Manufacturing(tool & dye maker, dry cleaner), Mechanics (Auto/aircraft mechanic), Transportation Operation (cab/bus driver-yes, it actually lists that), and some other jobs, none of which he has ever been interested in. While I do not consider any of these jobs bad, so to speak, I was very disheartened by the cold statistical analysis that presumes test scores to be an accurate measure of a persons abilities. He just might be a mechanic one day, and I pray he is happy regardless of what he chooses. But for some group of people to.... well, I won't get too wound up- you parents know where I am going with this.
And so, this has left his parents prayer harder, and fretting more over his already volatile self-esteem and future. Can he be whatever he chooses? Certainly. Can he go to college and be one of the best teachers on earth- Ab-So-Lutely. (can't he?)
Why then do we narrow the World of Opportunity for our children down to a "Career List" of 26 categories, A-Z?? My father used to promise me as a child that I could do anything I chose to if I just set my mind to it. I believed him then and I believe that now. Yes, hard work and determination are involved somewhere in the career equation. Right now, my son doesn't see that need. Perhaps he hasn't found a goal important enough to him to work that hard.
Like Peter Pan, he is trying to stay in Neverland, never to grow up, never to take on boring adult responsibilities. It is frustrating for him and his parents. Slowly I do see changes, so painfully slow at times. But, seriously, after being told by 4 graphs and 6 charts what you are good for...who wouldn't want to go with Peter to the Lost Boys hideout and never come out again? I just might pack our bags tonight! We're coming Tink!
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