Ramona Had an Escort

We get books on CD every time we head out on long car rides. In fact, last time we

went to Stowe we listened to Ramona Quimby Age 8. Admittedly an interesting pick, considering the audience was a 6 year old boy and 3 year old girl.

I introduced the CD with a preface that started, "WHEN I WAS A LITTLE GIRL... I read all about Ramona...."

And then I could see in the rear view that Dec and Nonie had lost all interest in what I was saying.... So, I paused for a second.

I thought for a moment.

And then I RE-introduced the book on CD a different way:

"Nonie, Dec, we've got a long car-ride ahead of us and I'm going to pop a CD in now that I think you'll like. It is about a girl who always has band-aids on her knees. Her name is Ramona."

And without further ado,

They CLUNG TO EVERY SINGLE WORD.

Just so happens that this morning at 9:27am - I get a call from Dec's school that he has gotten sick in class.

Within minutes (no more than 10) I fetched Dec at the nurse's office. From the school's office, I could see into the nurse's room - his legs were stretched out on the cot. I saw his feet before I could see his face. It was then that I noted that his sneakers were covered in vomit splatter.

I entered the nurse's room with a parental guilt level of 100 on a scale of 1-10. I observed Declan was wearing clothing that we did not own.

Nurse's replacement clothing 2 sizes too small.

He looked so, incredibly awkward in these clothes.

Dec looked up at me and said without hesitation, "Mom - it was just

like in the book Ramona Quimby Age 8, I threw up. Then my teacher told all my friends to move to the caterpillar rug while I went to the nurse. Except that when I walked to the nurse, my teacher didn't ask one of my friends to walk me there."

He finished his statement and looked surprisingly relieved. As if, his story had been told and now he could get on with feeling awful.

I made eye-contact with Dec's school nurse at that point. Just wanted to acknowledge that she was there, and listening to his emotional update.

Clearly, he would have preferred to be escorted to the nurse with one of his wide-eyed, and anxious to leave the vomit smelling classroom friends. But this didn't happen for him.

And amazingly enough (I thought to myself), this is what he will remember about this day.

"Do you remember that Ramona's teacher had a friend walk her to the nurse?" Dec asked.

"Yes Dec, I remember, that was a nice part of the story, wasn't it?"

And I put his backpack on my back, and I signed him out of school. I said thank you to all who had helped care for my baby 6-year-old boy in my absence. And then I held his hand and I walked him out of school. I opened the car door for him, watched him crawl inside and closed it afterwards. Once I was inside, I told him that I was so sorry that he felt so sick.

And I told him

that

I love him so much.

How Could I Not? I Laughed.

He may remember that no one escorted him to the nurse. And Ramona had an escort.

He will remember being cheated out of a friend to guide him.

But, I will remember being his guide.

Missing

Name: egg salad sandwich on 1/2 pita pocket
Birthday: 6:30 am 3/8/12
Last seen: on kitchen counter, possibly in lunch bag or work
Places I'm not: still on counter, in garbage, fridge, freezer or bathroom at house, still in lunch bag, in someones belly
Reward if found: clean smell from hiding place

Cutting the Cord

I know a lot of lore has gone into this memory, but it is one I like to relay often. The times (was it only once?) that mom cut the power cord from the tv, just to reinforce her "no television" rule.

Yesterday as X was glued to the tube, (I guess we call it a flat now?) I mentioned the cord cutting scenario. During one of my mommy moments with a rambunctious 3 year old who has so much energy he should be outside all the time, but has had a low grade fever for 4 days and kind of needs the rest, I thought of cutting the cord. It would be so great, definitive, it would so drive my husband to divorce (his tv is his first baby).

In an attempt to be a fun! mommy I sat on the bean bag in X's room today and played Star Wars, had Kell watching his every move and sipped my tea. I made up silly songs about the boys to Farmer in the Dell. When X wanted me to keep going I requested he take over, and make up something silly. Of course at that suggestion he clammed up and light sabered me a couple of times with his flashlights. Then for the 287th time he tried to open mouth kiss his brother on the lips, to which I freaked out for the 287th time, reminding him he is sick and please to move all kissing (with a closed mouth PLEASE) to the head and cheeks. And maybe I didn't say it quite that nicely.

To which HE responded,

to the tune of "Farmer in the Dell"

"Mommy's freaking out

mommy's freaking out

HI-HO the dairy-o

mommy's freaking out....."

Touche, young Jedi, touche.

Playing Pinata.

I kicked the kids outside this morning a few minutes before the bus was to roll into town.

I do this often. Usually, they are bouncing from wall to wall anxious to get going with their day.

I like to take these few minutes in a quiet house to do one last sweep. This morning I found Mood Goo stuck to the fridge door. I found underpants, inside out and ALMOST in the washer - ALMOST.

I found my coffee, still warm, next to the window I spontaneously windexed when I noticed that some-three-year-old-someone in Happy House (ahem) decided to practicing kissing techniques on it with cherry flavored chapstick. Awesome.

I found that when Declan told me he'd straighten the little couch cushions this morning - he really meant it and he really did his FIRST GRADE BEST. So I left the cushions askew as a reminder of his good deed.

And, as I glided through the house a cry came from the front path, where the children were waiting for me. "Don't go through the gate" I had said earlier. And they didn't. So they were roudy and rough-housing close by. In the mornings, they behave like pent-up cattle waiting to be released to greener pastures.

When I opened the door to see Nonie covered in tears and wailing, I asked her what happened.

"Decky hit me!" came the tears and sobs.

"What Mom? We were playing my new game called 'pinata'." Dec said with a face that became my brothers' of 20 years ago. Mischievous and innocent swirled into a grin.

"Playing pinata, huh?" Nonie crawled onto my lap as I tried to give Dec an out... "Okay Dec, tell me the rules of this one".

"For Serious."

I fell in love with Dec across the checkerboard this afternoon.

It wouldn't have happened if he didn't come bounding down the staircase

asking in his sweet little boy voice if I would play a game with him.

When I agreed, he had the checkers set up in an instant.

I sat down and we played. I don't really want to call him a cheater - but really,

the kid cheats at every chance he gets. One of his double jumps today was so, so

creative and so, so incredibly illegal, that I had to call the Hubs in to witness it.

Later on in the game, I tried to jump one of Dec's checkers and he insisted that it

wasn't in the box that I'd jumped.

His quote (and yes, I wrote it down the minute he said it, out of mad-mother-fear that I'd forget it):

"Mommy, my checker was in the middle of those two boxes. For serious."

As if, having your checker reside in the middle of two boxes, actually means that you can

choose to have said checker jumped or not jumped by your opponent.

As if?

For serious.

When a missing toothed AND adorable freckly faced 6-year old smiles at me with that, "I'm just so happy to be playing a game with you on this snowy and cold afternoon" heart warming grin....

Maybe sitting on the line of neither here nor there (neither boxed in, or out), does count for something.

Something VERY special.

Thank you my incredibly awesome Dec, for kicking my butt at checkers this afternoon.

I love you so, so, so much.

For serious.

The winter that isn't

My Mr. grumbles daily about this weather.
I say, it's a perfectly beautiful March day. It just happens to be February.
Don't we deserve a break now and then?
Last winter I returned from an early morning run with Drake proclaiming that it "felt pretty cold out there this morning". When I checked the thermometer it read -12•.
Forgive me for enjoying these balmy temps. But I do think they just might be keeping me afloat.

“What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again.”
― Suzanne Collins

Laughing from the top of the roller coaster.

So I spent 3 hours cleaning Happy House today..

You know, for the showing that never happened.

And so today is the day I realized this real estate thing-a-ma-jigger that we've just recently signed up

for is going to be quite the roller coaster.

We live for nearly seven years with a crappy old oven, get a new one in our kitchen just in time for the realtor open house, and now must stare at the old one through our living room window. Officially, kicked to the curb.

And so this evening, with our feet up in our living room... I turned to the Hubs and said, how could this be?

I posted our OLD OVEN on FREECYCLE. How come no one has claimed it yet? I mean, we're trying to GIVE someone a free oven.

And then he said, "well, read me the posting you wrote..."

And so I did.

OFFER: 30" gas freestanding range white

Posted by: "ME"

Sun Feb 19, 2012 2:24 pm (PST)

Tappan manufacturer. Easy pick up - indicate day & time in your reply. This is an older model range in fair working condition (rust, bent handle).

***

And then we just laughed, and laughed and laughed (from the tippy top of our roller coaster ride....)

I guess our trash isn't anybody's treasure.