I am frazzled. Mad Dog senses my frazzlement and takes the boys to Box Seats. Mommy gets a two hour hall pass. Touchdown!
I would write more but I’m too busy dancing a jig.
That’s My Boy
It is time for our annual termite inspection. The man responsible for this shows up unannounced at my doorstep. He tried to call but all he had on record was our previous, Wisconsin phone number. The boys are home and it will be an adventure for all of us.
The bug inspector is quite affable and is a Buckeye fan. He remembers that we are a home of Buckeyes and makes chit chat about the impending Ohio State vs. Michigan game (this is a big time rivalry). He also asks about my Mom. Seems the last time he was here inspecting, was the last time she was here, ever. I don’t want to get too personal but he keeps talking about her and eventually I have to disclose that she passed away in March. Full Speed is hanging on our every word.
“Grandma’s up in heaven,†he says. His eyes are wide and he comes up to me and grabs my hand. He tries to be such a little man sometimes.
The bug man says his apologies and comments on what a nice lady she was. He continues the job at hand. Once we get the all clear and payment is signed, I wish him a good day and hope that there isn’t a need for him to visit us until our next annual inspection.
As the day progresses into late afternoon, Full Speed drops a bit of a shocker on me.
“Mom, who is your Mommy going to be now that Grandma is up in heaven?â€
I knew he had probably been thinking about that question since the bug man’s inquiry about my Mom. A lump forms in my throat because I miss my Mom and Full Speed’s obvious concern for me makes me feel proud and slightly in awe of him.
“Well, Full Speed, Grandma is still my Mom even though she is in heaven. She will always be my Mom and I am lucky to have her,†I say. I try to say it without breaking down. I mostly succeed.
He kind of accepts what I say but isn’t entirely convinced. I can see the wheels turning in his head. I imagine that when he’s a bit older, he may have a full-out campaign to find me a Mom. Get your resumes ready ladies; I imagine this kid is going to be a tough one to impress.
Job Hazard
I decided to keep Full Speed home again (much to the detriment of my own personal sanity as T.Puzzle was home, too). Full Speed still had a temp in the middle of the night and didn’t eat much breakfast. Not much I could do except prepare myself for a day of fighting, chaos and bickering.
Mid-morning I decide that Full Speed is well enough to ride in the truck with his brother so I can pick up our newly upholstered barstools. Several months back, in an attempt to make my life easier, Mad Dog had ordered the barstools on-line. They were absolutely perfect in terms of matching our décor, the only limitation was that the cushions were a creamy, cloth white. Before I even write it you know it was not a good fit for two boys. In a matter of days, even though I had diligently stain-guarded them, they were a road-map of every food the boys ate. They looked gross so it was a great thing that they were now recovered in a sturdy, faux-leather vinyl.
When me and the boys arrive at the upholstery place, I pull the truck around back, put the boys’ windows down and open the rear hatch.
“Full Speed, I’m going to run inside to grab the stools. I’ll only be a couple minutes,†I say.
I can already see the fear playing at the corners of his eyes. “Who’s going to keep an eye on me and T.Puzzle? I don’t want you to leave us alone!â€
“You’ll be here with your brother and I’ll be right around the corner.†End of discussion and I head into the building (it’s attached to a house and we are in the driveway, I can still see the truck at all times so I know they will be safe).
Before I have a chance to do anything, Full Speed starts a complete meltdown. Me and the owner rush to the truck.
“I thought, in theory, it would be easier for everyone if they stayed put. I didn’t know what kind of trouble they would get into if I brought them inside,†I explain.
“Oh, I completely understand,†she says. The way she says it makes me think she might understand my plight more than the average person.
“Let me guess, are you the mother of boys?†I ask.
“They are grown men now but I remember how hard it was. And, boys, let me tell you are something else.” She has a bit of a chuckle hidden in her words.
“Well it’s nice to talk to someone who has come through the other side of raising boys and seems to be doing okay.â€
“I don’t know about that, look at my hair.†I glance at her hair and it is pure snow-white. Hazard of the job I suppose.
Hair Trouble
I saw ‘The Color Purple’ at the theater last night. It was a girls’ night by all means. My sister-in-law and mother-in-law had purchased a series of musical theater tickets for my birthday and this was the first show. We managed to arrive in enough time to enjoy an excellent dinner at the Omni Hotel and still get to our seats. It was glorious to sit back, enjoy a glass of wine, good conversation with adults and a child-free evening.
We weren’t sure what to expect with the show. We knew the book and movie were pretty intense and weren’t sure how that would play out on a musical stage. It was a pleasant and entertaining surprise. The level of talent was very good and there was much more humor in it than we anticipated.
Once I had returned home and tucked myself in for the night, Full Speed
came into our bedroom sometime in the early morning hours. Mad Dog and I sent him hastily back to his room. He was hyper-emotional about this which is completely out of character. In the morning, he looked peaked, had a temp and had no appetite to speak of. Looks like I was going to have company for the day.
Mad Dog escorted a very unwilling T.Puzzle to school (apparently he screamed and cried the whole ride over there) and I was faced with the task of keeping Full Speed hydrated and happy.
Soon we are alone and he looks up at me with the saddest, puppy dog eyes and says, “Why aren’t you coming to my Thanksgiving Feast on Friday?â€
I know, I know, I seem like a highly inconsiderate parent. There is more to the story. Way back in mid-October I called my salon and set up hair appointments for the remainder of the year as it gets booked solid with the approaching holidays. Of course when I made the appointment for November, I was unaware of the impending feast at Full Speed’s school. I figured it was no big deal to miss. I had attended his Halloween luncheon with Mad Dog and only three other parents had shown up. Therefore, I signed up to bring in a fruit tray (ordered from the grocery of course) and thought nothing of it.
Yesterday at school as I had cleaned out Full Speed’s ‘mailbox’, I came across a Thanksgiving Feast reminder paper. It said ‘please note that we have 36 people attending Friday’s feast’. I did the math. Full Speed has nineteen kids in his class. That means almost every, single kid will have a parent present.
Guess who is skipping the salon and will have bad hair for the holidays? This year I will be thankful that my kids love me for who I am and not what I look like. Otherwise, I would be in serious trouble.
Follow Suit
There was a music class preview held at our neighborhood amenity center. We bravely attended. Why would we need courage you may ask? Structure and T.Puzzle have a very tumultuous past. It could be a funny disaster or disastrously fun, either way there is danger.
Throughout the course of the class he is slightly aggressive with me. It’s subtle and I am thankful his aggression is channeled to me and not the adorable, one year old girl in the Elmo dress. He sits on my crossed legs with a thump, plants his feet in front of me and pushes back with all his might. It takes a lot of strength on my part to remain upright. At random intervals I have to whisper to him in my scary Mommy voice to ‘knock it off’.
Then there’s a group game. All the kids gather around the teacher and we sing a song about groceries. She directs this question to the gaggle of kids at her feet, “What do you buy at the grocery?â€
“Bananas!†a four year old girl says.
The teacher looks at T.Puzzle, “What do you buy at the grocery?â€
“Apples!†he says.
I’m so relieved I nearly faint. I was waiting for him to say, “Beer!†or “Guns!†or something wild that would have the whole room questioning the safety of my home as it pertains to child-rearing.
At the end, the teacher puts on the sweetest, most melodic song about thanks and love. We are supposed to rock our kids gently in various configurations to have them wind-down and get some cuddle-connection time with their Mommies. Before the song even hits its first chorus, T.Puzzle is getting intensely wound up. He’s vocally getting loud and I have to lock my legs in fighting stance (see? I pay attention at Tae Kwon Do) so he doesn’t knock me over. I also can barely swing him because he is like a squirmy block of concrete. My friend who attended with me says, “This wouldn’t be a good wind-down routine for him before bedtime I take it.â€
“Pretty much, nothing is. And, the really scary part is, he’s my calm child,†I respond.
Overall, he did much better than I anticipated. He didn’t bite, tackle or hit anyone (huge milestone for my boy). He actually participated, danced and even giggled now and then. It wasn’t until it was over that I realized my shoulders were high up around my neck as I had braced myself for the worst. Maybe someday, in the not so distant future, my shoulders will relax and assume a more natural posture. I might even learn to not always expect the worse. I bet if I loosen up, my kid and my shoulders just might follow suit.