A few weeks back when I took Rob shopping for sneakers I bought myself a new two piece bathing suit. It fit perfectly. It cost $14.99 Except I was reasonably sure it should have cost twice that because both the top and bottom had tags that said $14.99 I pointed this out to the clerk but he was adament that it was a set. OK, I tried. I paid $14.99 and was psyched.
Yesterday I took the kids to the beach. I went to put on my suit. I could only find the top (which I have worn a few times for just shooting water shooters or playing water balloons with the kids.) The bottoms are no where to be found. I know that they came home with me, but where they went between a few weeks back and yesterday when I wanted to don them? That would be a mystery. Looks like I got the 1/2 a suit I paid for! LOL
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Monday, July 5, 2010
Recap of the 4th
Our 4th was festive and fun. Greg and Wendy are great people and I love how when they are here, each of them finds time to spend one on one with each of the kids. With a brood my size, that is no small achievement. It does make for a long visit though and by the time it was over, Lissa was a screaming, unhappy mess. Too tired to really even eat supper, furious that she was showering and going to bed. But today is a new day, sunny and bright and sometime today we will hit the beach.
My mother called in the midst of it all. Luckily our friends were busy with the kids and I felt comfortable taking the call. My sister had called my mom to tell her about my dad's wife who had just passed away. Sis is having a hard time because no one from the first two marriages except her has a relationship with him. I have tried to explain to Sis that I am here for her but that he and I have no relationship other than biologically. I said it a whole lot more gently but I don't think it helped. The kids from his second marriage were apparently less gentle so she moved on to my mom. Who predictably was upset. And who didn't suggest we all get together and sing Kum Bay Yah. Ah, the joys of family! I think I got her calmed down and got back to the party. Later I emailed sis so hopefully all will be well.
My mother called in the midst of it all. Luckily our friends were busy with the kids and I felt comfortable taking the call. My sister had called my mom to tell her about my dad's wife who had just passed away. Sis is having a hard time because no one from the first two marriages except her has a relationship with him. I have tried to explain to Sis that I am here for her but that he and I have no relationship other than biologically. I said it a whole lot more gently but I don't think it helped. The kids from his second marriage were apparently less gentle so she moved on to my mom. Who predictably was upset. And who didn't suggest we all get together and sing Kum Bay Yah. Ah, the joys of family! I think I got her calmed down and got back to the party. Later I emailed sis so hopefully all will be well.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Happy Fourth of July
It is hot here in Central MA and we are gearing up for our BBQ with the kids godparents. It is an annual event and a lot of fun. They really love our kids and I wish their schedules and ours allowed more time togethr than we typically get.
The kids and I decorated the back yard today. It looks festive and cute. I had this cool idea of lining the steps to the backyard with red white and blue balloon clusters tied onto stakes. (that will eventually go to the garden for our tomatos). It looks really sweet but the aforementioned heat is causing the balloons to explode one by one. I hope a few are left by the time Greg and Wendy arrive! LOL There are sparkly star garlands decorating the umbrella on the table, and I have criss crossed plastic streamers in flag motifs across the numerous tables. Because I suffer from Marthanity a bit, there is a bowl with a gorgeous blue hydrangea floating in it on one of the tables which will hold food. We have star themed cloth napkins and I made a cutlery holder out of a gigantic oatmeal container that was empty. Covered it with paper and had the kids go at it with patriotic stickers. Looks cute and all the place settings are in there neatly bundled into their napkins and tied with a bit of festive ribbon.
My sister called to update me on my father's situation. She doesn't understand why his step children from marriage number 2 feel uncomfortable because he left their mother for the woman he is now married to. My sister says it is just part of his personality. I didn't know what to say to that (she has been married 3 times herself) so I made hmmmming noises. LOL
I hope I always have connection to my children. Not that I don't want them to fledge and ultimately fly--and i am excited to see the stirrings of that in my 14 y/o--but I want them to always know they are loved and to feel comfortable flying home should they wish to.
The kids and I decorated the back yard today. It looks festive and cute. I had this cool idea of lining the steps to the backyard with red white and blue balloon clusters tied onto stakes. (that will eventually go to the garden for our tomatos). It looks really sweet but the aforementioned heat is causing the balloons to explode one by one. I hope a few are left by the time Greg and Wendy arrive! LOL There are sparkly star garlands decorating the umbrella on the table, and I have criss crossed plastic streamers in flag motifs across the numerous tables. Because I suffer from Marthanity a bit, there is a bowl with a gorgeous blue hydrangea floating in it on one of the tables which will hold food. We have star themed cloth napkins and I made a cutlery holder out of a gigantic oatmeal container that was empty. Covered it with paper and had the kids go at it with patriotic stickers. Looks cute and all the place settings are in there neatly bundled into their napkins and tied with a bit of festive ribbon.
My sister called to update me on my father's situation. She doesn't understand why his step children from marriage number 2 feel uncomfortable because he left their mother for the woman he is now married to. My sister says it is just part of his personality. I didn't know what to say to that (she has been married 3 times herself) so I made hmmmming noises. LOL
I hope I always have connection to my children. Not that I don't want them to fledge and ultimately fly--and i am excited to see the stirrings of that in my 14 y/o--but I want them to always know they are loved and to feel comfortable flying home should they wish to.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Rob's home but his raincoat isn't!
He may be my quietest child--may be my ONLY quiet child, but his absence is so loud. All week long I would sort of half forget that Rob was away at camp. I'd have that sports trivia I wanted to share and no one to share it with. I'd go upstairs at night and his bedroom door was open and the room was empty. It was just sort of off kilter feeling a bit.
I'm glad he went. He loves it there. He grows there. There is somehow a perfect balance at this camp of the familiar and known, and the new, so that each year he stretches a little, grows just a wee bit more in confidence and maturity. Though obviously packing skills and keeping track of "stuff" is still a work in progress as we came home without a new raincoat and a fairly new hoodie. Sigh. But in the grand scheme of things, it's not that big a deal.
The kids and i were up at 5:30 this morning because we were leaving by 6:30 and well, we were excited. We were out the door right on time, hit Dunkins and made it to Maine in really good time. I had thought that traffic might be a problem but it was clear sailing. We got to the camp, and did the myriad leave taking details. Had time to walk on the beach and for KC and Lissa to play at the playground a bit.
Got back to the car and attempted to set the GPS to take us from the camp to my mothers house in Maine. GPS would not turn on. I gave it to Rob who is my go-to tech guy. Nada. I called Kirsty on the cell phone. Nada. She gave me directions verbally over the phone. (yes, I know it was MY mother's house. I am so seriously directionally impaired I would miss my OWN house if I approached from a new angle!) We set off.
And all was good till we got lost. But then somehow Rob got the GPS going and it turned out I was only a few miles off (and no where near Wisconsin or Iowa or something yet. Truly my lack of directional abilities is legendary and faintly pathetic but I have come to terms with this limitation.) We thus were only a few minutes late to the Nana, which is very good. One should not keep Nana waiting. LOL Trust me, I speak the truth.
We ate lunch with her, kids played a bit, we chatted a bit. Then she said she had to go to the farmers market which was kind of a cue. Time to go boys and girls! GPS was willing to work again; it must have just needed a mid day nap. And by the time I hit the highway all 3 kids that were with me were asleep. This was surreal. I can count on one hand the number of times in his life that Rob has fallen asleep in the car. Turns out that they got up at 4:30 this morning to watch the sun come up over the ocean so that was why he was whipped. He slept most of the way home and so did KC. Lissa woke about half way home.
The traffic was heavier on the way back but not horrid. And I have a speed pass transponder gizmo that is so worth its weight in gold. No slowing down even at certain tolls and in bad weather, I never have to even roll down my window. I love that thing.
When we got home I grabbed the mail out of the mail box. There were 2 postcards from Rob. One to the family and one specifically to KC and Lissa. I know it came the day he came home but this was huge with a capital H. In the previous years, he has never written us from camp. We have hinted broadly (year 1) and begged (year 2) But nothing. This year i said nothing but noticed that he packed postcards and a pen when we got his gear together. Rob has always been the child that counselors exclaimed happily about because he is never homesick. This year i don't think he was homesick, but he allowed himself to show caring and love for us in a new way and that is so great. Healing comes in fits and starts in my experience but this was a big leap for him. He could see too that we were all excited about the cards. It didn't matter that they arrived when he did; they showed he thought about us while he was gone, just like we were thinking of him.
And for him, there was a bouquet of orange balloons to celebrate his return home. And a scratch art drawing of his favorite things by little brother KC.
I'm glad he went. He loves it there. He grows there. There is somehow a perfect balance at this camp of the familiar and known, and the new, so that each year he stretches a little, grows just a wee bit more in confidence and maturity. Though obviously packing skills and keeping track of "stuff" is still a work in progress as we came home without a new raincoat and a fairly new hoodie. Sigh. But in the grand scheme of things, it's not that big a deal.
The kids and i were up at 5:30 this morning because we were leaving by 6:30 and well, we were excited. We were out the door right on time, hit Dunkins and made it to Maine in really good time. I had thought that traffic might be a problem but it was clear sailing. We got to the camp, and did the myriad leave taking details. Had time to walk on the beach and for KC and Lissa to play at the playground a bit.
Got back to the car and attempted to set the GPS to take us from the camp to my mothers house in Maine. GPS would not turn on. I gave it to Rob who is my go-to tech guy. Nada. I called Kirsty on the cell phone. Nada. She gave me directions verbally over the phone. (yes, I know it was MY mother's house. I am so seriously directionally impaired I would miss my OWN house if I approached from a new angle!) We set off.
And all was good till we got lost. But then somehow Rob got the GPS going and it turned out I was only a few miles off (and no where near Wisconsin or Iowa or something yet. Truly my lack of directional abilities is legendary and faintly pathetic but I have come to terms with this limitation.) We thus were only a few minutes late to the Nana, which is very good. One should not keep Nana waiting. LOL Trust me, I speak the truth.
We ate lunch with her, kids played a bit, we chatted a bit. Then she said she had to go to the farmers market which was kind of a cue. Time to go boys and girls! GPS was willing to work again; it must have just needed a mid day nap. And by the time I hit the highway all 3 kids that were with me were asleep. This was surreal. I can count on one hand the number of times in his life that Rob has fallen asleep in the car. Turns out that they got up at 4:30 this morning to watch the sun come up over the ocean so that was why he was whipped. He slept most of the way home and so did KC. Lissa woke about half way home.
The traffic was heavier on the way back but not horrid. And I have a speed pass transponder gizmo that is so worth its weight in gold. No slowing down even at certain tolls and in bad weather, I never have to even roll down my window. I love that thing.
When we got home I grabbed the mail out of the mail box. There were 2 postcards from Rob. One to the family and one specifically to KC and Lissa. I know it came the day he came home but this was huge with a capital H. In the previous years, he has never written us from camp. We have hinted broadly (year 1) and begged (year 2) But nothing. This year i said nothing but noticed that he packed postcards and a pen when we got his gear together. Rob has always been the child that counselors exclaimed happily about because he is never homesick. This year i don't think he was homesick, but he allowed himself to show caring and love for us in a new way and that is so great. Healing comes in fits and starts in my experience but this was a big leap for him. He could see too that we were all excited about the cards. It didn't matter that they arrived when he did; they showed he thought about us while he was gone, just like we were thinking of him.
And for him, there was a bouquet of orange balloons to celebrate his return home. And a scratch art drawing of his favorite things by little brother KC.
Friday, July 2, 2010
L is for Lissa!
Yahoo! Lissa is definately learning and retaining letters! I am sooooo excited. Since I have been working 1/2 days this week I added a "game" where I wrote 9 letters on 3 by 5 cards. One card per letter. 6 letters were ones I was reasonably sure she knew, 2 were ones she gets right about half the time and one was a "new" letter that had zero accuracy before the game. We held the cards up and said the letters together and then I put them on the floor and had her run and jump on a letter as I called it out. KC thought it looked like fun and joined in. They call it the jumping game and ask for it often now! LOL But the other night when we were reading she pointed to an L at long last and said "L is for Lissa." Whew! We are on the literary journey at last folks!
News of my father
My sister called last night to tell me that my father's wife is critically ill and will likely pass away in 48 hours. According to sis, my father is so broken up that he is on suicide watch. Unfortunately, in a not too compassionate moment in my life the words "oh PULEEZ" burst from my lips when she told me this.
I am sorry the woman is dying and I wish her a peaceful journey as the wheel turns. But I don't know her. I know my dad married her a few years ago. I didn't know they had lived together for 20 yrs according to what sis told me last night. This is wife number 3 and i only briefly ever met wife number two. My father has not contacted me since Chet was about 3. He has moved multiple times and obviously we were never really close or he would have kept in contact.
I try to be mature about this. Rationally I know that my father and I never got along. Literally, from the time I could talk, never.got.along. And I don't know why we butt heads so badly as I do remember very much wanting his approval and praise. So much so that I went to R rated movies at the drive ins with him when I was way too young for them. My mother wouldn't go and i knew he wanted company. So much so that i read the books he was reading for college so that i could talk about them with him. I was 10 when I read Oedipus the King and I remember talking with him about it. I would offer to help him strip copper wire from his electrical side jobs, went hunting when I abhor killing things etc. But we could never get close. He couldn't get me and I couldn't get him. He had a capacity for choosing what should have been special moments and bringing me to tears--my high school graduation, a dance recital, the day I went to my first job. I don't look back at pictures from my childhood because the moments most people want to remember are very much tinged with sadness for me.
By the time i was a teen I was sure that I was the reason for discord in our house. Obviously not as my folks divorced the year after I left home. But well before then, we had both stopped trying. I felt he made it pretty clear he didn't love me or approve of me and I was totally done in that way that only a teen can be.
Yet I did try again when Chet came home. I thought he would want to know his only grandson. That was also when I met wife #2. A couple years after that he moved and never told me. He has since lived in multiple states, divorced wife #2 and obviously married wife #3. He kept ties with my sister, visiting her and flying out to see her (we live about 40 minutes from each other) and even on occasion flying her out to visit him. Pretty clear statement on his part as to our lack of relationship.
Which I have sort of come to a peaceful place with. There will always be hurt, because I don't know what about me he doesn't like. I don't know if I could have fixed things. I do know that the loss has given me insights for my children who have experienced loss and perhaps an empathy I would not otherwise have had. And I am left trying to say the right thing to my sister who is obviously worried for him and grieving and I feel about as connected to this whole thing as if a distant neighbor shared a story from their family. Life is weird sometimes.
I am sorry the woman is dying and I wish her a peaceful journey as the wheel turns. But I don't know her. I know my dad married her a few years ago. I didn't know they had lived together for 20 yrs according to what sis told me last night. This is wife number 3 and i only briefly ever met wife number two. My father has not contacted me since Chet was about 3. He has moved multiple times and obviously we were never really close or he would have kept in contact.
I try to be mature about this. Rationally I know that my father and I never got along. Literally, from the time I could talk, never.got.along. And I don't know why we butt heads so badly as I do remember very much wanting his approval and praise. So much so that I went to R rated movies at the drive ins with him when I was way too young for them. My mother wouldn't go and i knew he wanted company. So much so that i read the books he was reading for college so that i could talk about them with him. I was 10 when I read Oedipus the King and I remember talking with him about it. I would offer to help him strip copper wire from his electrical side jobs, went hunting when I abhor killing things etc. But we could never get close. He couldn't get me and I couldn't get him. He had a capacity for choosing what should have been special moments and bringing me to tears--my high school graduation, a dance recital, the day I went to my first job. I don't look back at pictures from my childhood because the moments most people want to remember are very much tinged with sadness for me.
By the time i was a teen I was sure that I was the reason for discord in our house. Obviously not as my folks divorced the year after I left home. But well before then, we had both stopped trying. I felt he made it pretty clear he didn't love me or approve of me and I was totally done in that way that only a teen can be.
Yet I did try again when Chet came home. I thought he would want to know his only grandson. That was also when I met wife #2. A couple years after that he moved and never told me. He has since lived in multiple states, divorced wife #2 and obviously married wife #3. He kept ties with my sister, visiting her and flying out to see her (we live about 40 minutes from each other) and even on occasion flying her out to visit him. Pretty clear statement on his part as to our lack of relationship.
Which I have sort of come to a peaceful place with. There will always be hurt, because I don't know what about me he doesn't like. I don't know if I could have fixed things. I do know that the loss has given me insights for my children who have experienced loss and perhaps an empathy I would not otherwise have had. And I am left trying to say the right thing to my sister who is obviously worried for him and grieving and I feel about as connected to this whole thing as if a distant neighbor shared a story from their family. Life is weird sometimes.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
A tale of two libraries
Today the city next to us was supposed to be having a celebration starting at 3 p.m. We showed up at 3:15 and couldn't find hide nor hair of any sort of celebrating--and anyone who has stopped by my blog knows my family knows celebrating! LOL
I used to spend a lot of our Saturdays in this "twin" city to mine. My kids took swimming lessons there (our city has no facility for this other than a pricey country club. I prefer a Y environment) Because of their lessons, I went to my banks branch in this city, and used this city's library. For years. Chet grew up spending more time at that library than the lovely one in our own community.
Not because of convenience. You can walk to the library in our city from our home. But our city is somewhat elitist. You walk down town and you do not see homeless people. Or as a general rule, disabled people. Marginalized people in general are not common sights here. Not so in the city next to us. They have a highly visible street population and this population used their library extensively during the day. When I went it was common to see folks with back packs and sleeping bags reading magazines or newspapers. Or to have someone say thing that didn't make a lot of sense. Or for someone to be a bit loud.
All that made the other city library a perfect fit for my family. My eldest is not neurotypical. To look at him, one doesn't know that he sees, interprets and experiences the world in a vastly different manner from most of us. But he does. So he sometimes says things that seem out of context or downright strange. He is loud, and gestures wildly with his hands when he gets excited.
But the staff at the other library were used to pegs that were not all the same and Chet was not a problem. He grew up there and the lovely children's librarian watched him grow to adulthood and as my other 3 children came along, she helped shepherd them along the path of literature with the same kind, gentle demeanor. Rob and KC also took to her and loved seeing her each Saturday after swimming lessons.
Then budget cuts forced drastic cuts for that city library. They are only open a couple days a week and they are weekdays, not Saturdays. I had to resort to going to the beautiful new library in my city. Which has lots of books. And the librarians are all really friendly. Except that my eldest can't really go there. He gets upset because it is so big, so vast that he becomes overwhelmed. His loudness is very much at odds with the expectations in this city library. When he did go, I received carefully worded complaints from staff about how he monopolized staff time, was disruptive, etc. Explaining Chet's disability did little. There were nods and all, but still an expectation that he would comply "normally."
Today, because I only worked a half day, the other library was open. I hadn't known it would be, or I would have brought Chet along. As it was, KC got to see his beloved librarian friend, who he remembered and who remembered both he and Elisabeth and the rest of my brood. She and I spoke at length about the different feeling in the two libraries and how sad I was over the fate of her library and the loss it represented most particularly for my eldest son. She said how much she genuinely liked Chet and how she missed seeing him. She remembered that he always brought her a plethora of magazines which she would read herself and then offer for free to other patrons.
The world is not sunlight and sweet music when you have a child (or in my case a man-child) who hears a different symphony from the one the rest of the world listens to. I mourn that for my son, but I also celebrate that today I reconnected with someone who was able to see the essential goodness within him.
I used to spend a lot of our Saturdays in this "twin" city to mine. My kids took swimming lessons there (our city has no facility for this other than a pricey country club. I prefer a Y environment) Because of their lessons, I went to my banks branch in this city, and used this city's library. For years. Chet grew up spending more time at that library than the lovely one in our own community.
Not because of convenience. You can walk to the library in our city from our home. But our city is somewhat elitist. You walk down town and you do not see homeless people. Or as a general rule, disabled people. Marginalized people in general are not common sights here. Not so in the city next to us. They have a highly visible street population and this population used their library extensively during the day. When I went it was common to see folks with back packs and sleeping bags reading magazines or newspapers. Or to have someone say thing that didn't make a lot of sense. Or for someone to be a bit loud.
All that made the other city library a perfect fit for my family. My eldest is not neurotypical. To look at him, one doesn't know that he sees, interprets and experiences the world in a vastly different manner from most of us. But he does. So he sometimes says things that seem out of context or downright strange. He is loud, and gestures wildly with his hands when he gets excited.
But the staff at the other library were used to pegs that were not all the same and Chet was not a problem. He grew up there and the lovely children's librarian watched him grow to adulthood and as my other 3 children came along, she helped shepherd them along the path of literature with the same kind, gentle demeanor. Rob and KC also took to her and loved seeing her each Saturday after swimming lessons.
Then budget cuts forced drastic cuts for that city library. They are only open a couple days a week and they are weekdays, not Saturdays. I had to resort to going to the beautiful new library in my city. Which has lots of books. And the librarians are all really friendly. Except that my eldest can't really go there. He gets upset because it is so big, so vast that he becomes overwhelmed. His loudness is very much at odds with the expectations in this city library. When he did go, I received carefully worded complaints from staff about how he monopolized staff time, was disruptive, etc. Explaining Chet's disability did little. There were nods and all, but still an expectation that he would comply "normally."
Today, because I only worked a half day, the other library was open. I hadn't known it would be, or I would have brought Chet along. As it was, KC got to see his beloved librarian friend, who he remembered and who remembered both he and Elisabeth and the rest of my brood. She and I spoke at length about the different feeling in the two libraries and how sad I was over the fate of her library and the loss it represented most particularly for my eldest son. She said how much she genuinely liked Chet and how she missed seeing him. She remembered that he always brought her a plethora of magazines which she would read herself and then offer for free to other patrons.
The world is not sunlight and sweet music when you have a child (or in my case a man-child) who hears a different symphony from the one the rest of the world listens to. I mourn that for my son, but I also celebrate that today I reconnected with someone who was able to see the essential goodness within him.
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