Spinning Yellow

Who's on First?

An abbreviated version of the hour long conversation that took place yesterday after the Phillies lost:

Scott: Can they still win the division?

Me: Yes, if they win tomorrow, but the Mets have to lose their game.

Scott: What if they both win?

Me: Then they play a one game tie-breaker in Philly on Monday.

Scott: If the Phillies lose that game can they still be the wild card?

Me: Um, I don't know, Matt?

Matt: It's pretty complicated.  I don't really know.

Scott: I just want to know if they can still be the wild card.

Matt: Well, it depends on what the other teams do and there's just too many scenarios to go through it all.

Scott: Why can't you just tell me whether or not the Phillies still have a chance to be the wild card?

Me: I think we have to sit down and write out all the possible scenarios.

Matt: They pay people to do that, stop wasting your time.  Look, all you need to worry about is whether the Phillies win tomorrow.  If they lose, then they are out.

Scott: Not if the Mets lose, too.  Then they can still win the division if they win the playoff game.

Matt: OK, you're right. (big sigh).  Can't we just go to bed now.

Scott: I still want to know if the Phillies can win the wild card.

Matt: (totally exasperated) No more questions!!  I'm done!

Scott: Why can't you just tell me whether or not the Phillies still have a chance to be the wild card?

Me: Let's sit down and do the scenarios.  OK, let's see, if the Phillies win and the Mets win and Sand Diego loses and Colorado wins, then, OK, my head hurts, we are going to have to make up a spreadsheet.

Matt: Or just wait until tomorrow when the people who are paid to figure this out will have it all mapped out!

Me: (feeling like a failure for not doing the math problem with Scott) We can figure this out, really, I'm sure of it.  OK, let's start over, there are 4 teams so with a win or a loss for each that's like 16 different things that could happen....

Scott: Mommy?  What's wrong?  I'm waiting...

Me: This is going to take too long.

This morning before I even got out of bed:

Scott:  Mom?  I figured it out.  If the Phillies win today and the Mets win so they have to play the play off game for the division and the Phillies lose that game, then they play another playoff game against the Padres if they lose today and then they would get the wild card if they won that game.

Me: Huh? Really?

Scott: I think so, let's check the computer.

And we did and guess who was right?

How come when Bossy talks about the Phillies it's so much more fun?  And she even used the word "heiny" and made it seem cute (well, she did use it while referring to Chase Utley).

She Said What?

At a neighborhood playgroup today, one of the moms was asking if our kids sang The Name Song in Kindergarten.

Scott, Scott, bo bott, Banana, fana, fo fott, Fee fi mo mott, Scott

Did Scott sing this?  Like every. second. for months.  Before I could get all nostalgic about Kindergarten and how I miss his teacher, my friend, who writes at the blog Floating In Space, said, "Good thing there aren't any Chucks or Arts in the class."  I laughed all day about that.

But I did do some reminiscing about his former teacher and how good she was with the kids.  How she was the perfect teacher.  And she was attractive and ...classy, to use my dad's lingo.

Compared to this year's teacher who is sarcastic and a little crass.  The kids think she's funny, usually, but Scott doesn't always get it exactly.

The other day he told me he "guessed" (he can actually see the amount without counting, so he didn't guess) the correct number of tally marks on the board and his teacher said, "You varmint!"

"Mommy, isn't varmint a word for poop?"

"No, sweetie, I think you are thinking of vomit, which is a word for throw-up."

"Well, what's varmint, then?"

"Um, like a fox or a wolf that kills small animals like rats.  I guess she was saying you got her because you answered so fast."

"Oh."

Then today when Scott came home and told me that they only get one recess from now on, "Our teacher said we need to get off our heinies and get some exercise."

"What did she say?"

"You know, get off our heinies, our butts."

Lovely.

He might be adjusting to first grade, but clearly, I am not.

Lest You Think I Forgot to Post Anything

I haven't.  And, it isn't that I don't have anything to write about.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  The posts are piling up inside my head constantly.  About Scott and school; about women learning their own potential; Jane starting school; my responses to things I've read on autism, breastfeeding, and so much more; intensity; Scott and soccer; missing puzzle pieces; Jane's cute antics; talks with friends; running; finding purpose and meaning in life; blogging; and on and on.  That internal blogalogue never stops.  It keeps me up at night and calls to me.  Telling me I will forget this great idea.  Luring me to leave my other tasks to write and edit.

But.  One of my problems with blogging is the "can't keep a secret" issue I have.  When I was in grade school I once spilled the beans to a friend that her parents were having a surprise party for her.  I avoid people when I am trying to hide something because I am so afraid of being the spoiler.  I've done this when I've known about parties and also when I've had news to share.

Like when I've been pregnant.

No, I do not have any confirmation on that.  But, I feel like I wrote this last post and put it out there and then I couldn't take it back.  What was I thinking?

So, I've been laying low.  Well, also there have been a few other things going on.

Today I ran a 10K (6.2 mile) race.

I've been attending running class since I started the Learn to Run program back in March.  I ran the 5K and was happy that I did it, that I could legitimately call myself a runner.  And I decided to take the next step and train for the 10K.  I haven't written anything about the class.  Once again, not for lack of great stories and insights, but just because I can't find the time to write enough.

Oh, and I think I was afraid to put myself out there.  The pressure of it.  What if I decided that I didn't want to do it anymore?  Or I just wanted to keep it under the radar.  Not have people asking me and commenting and wishing me luck.  I didn't want to disappoint anyone, especially myself.

But it went well.  Despite the fact that I didn't stick with the program at the end and really slacked off.  Even though I was oh so tired.  And I am thrilled that I did it.  In a little over an hour.  Respectable.  It felt much better than the 5K.  And once again, I could go on and on, but am lacking the time and energy.

The first week of school, I was sick.  The second week, I had 2 Back to School Nights and a separate orientation for Jane.  Then while I was trying to get organized last week, I had the practice run for the race, card night and book group (where I once again didn't read the book). 

I hate, hate, hate feeling overwhelmed.  I have closets to sort, bills to organize, clothes to swap out, an office to straighten up, cleaning to do, birthdays coming up.  My father had an operation and my mother has been busy driving him around, oh and she passed out in the hospital with him because she is so stressed out and their friend died, who just so happens to have lived across the street from me.  I need to do something for these people and catch up on all the blogs.  And there is so much writing to do it is filling me up inside and I think I might burst.

For now, I will get some sleep (did I mention I am unusually tired?) and try to start my week by waking  up early and getting some things done.  Maybe I'll even post something worthwhile.

At least I can rest easily now that the race is over and I don't have to feel guilty about hiding that anymore.

I am surprised I was able to keep my mouth shut about it given my track record.

We Are Sick

Every fall we all get sick.  It usually happens at the end of September, but this year it is happening in the beginning.  It settled in right as school was starting.  I felt tired and achy and then the stuffed up nose and the cough.  And everyone else is the same. 

We've managed by taking lots of drugs and skipping things like going to playdates and running.  Jane is the one I worry about the most because for the past two years, her sickness has turned into something worse like bronchitis.  We have to really give her lots of meds and nebulizer treatments ("nebbie"s).

I think it has to do with the change in seasons and allergies.  The cough lingers on and makes people afraid to come near us.  But we are all getting better.  I went running on Friday and hope to be up to speed for my 10K race next Sunday.

Unfortunately, this ailment is not the only illness we have.  We each have some others:

Jane

She was bitten by the singing bug earlier in life, but has really been infected with the desire to perform.  I took her to her first dance class last week and it couldn't have been cuter.  The quintessential, straight backed teacher who had the girls dance around and at one point put on fairy wings.  Jane loved every minute of it.  If she could wear her leotard round the clock, she would.

She sings and dances constantly.  Mimicking movies and videos and also making up her own lyrics.  This is down right adorable but drives Scott crazy.  She likes to put on the same dress every day and then asks me to fix her hair with as many "prettys" as I can fit.  She looks at herself in the mirror, pleased, and announces, "I look bootiful."

I don't see her being cured any time soon (if ever).

She's also been inflicted with the "I need someone to help me fall asleep" sickness.  She likes to have her door open and call for us.  Over and over.  Matt usually gives in and lies down on the floor next to her bed and promptly falls asleep.

I think she'll get better on her own, although I know we can make her recovery faster by not giving in to her demands.

Scott

Right before school started he came down with the Peter Pan syndrome, complaining that he doesn't want to grow up.  He feels, now that he is away from home for more hours than he is awake here, that life is on a steady downhill slide.  He is upset about the lack of time he has to play outside, talk with me, watch tv, and generally do stuff at home.

"I'll never be little again and at home with you," he laments.  "I don't want to grow up.  Being an adult is bad!" 

"Will there ever be anything else that happens in my life that is as big as the first day of school?"

Yeah, I can think of a few, but I guess this is the biggest one for awhile.

In addition, he went quickly from being exhausted and overwhelmed by school to now having the disease known as over-confidence.  "School is easy.  I can do all the work already."

I think I might need to e-mail his teacher for a cure called "way harder school work."

Matt

He's been infected with the e-bay induced bike-swapping sickness.  This is a recurring, chronic illness for him.  One he generally gets when he is unhappy with his current bicycle for what ever reason and then starts trading out parts.  This time though he has it so bad that he bought a new bike that turned out not to be the right size, sold his current bike, sold the new bike, and now bought something similar to what he had to begin with.

This is a serious disorder that has no known cure.  It is not contagious, but does makes me completely crazy.

Me

I have Back to School Night-itis.  After two full weeks of the first day of school, the first day of soccer practice, the first soccer game, the first dance class, the first day at preschool and then back to back, back to school nights, I am totally spent.  Enough already. 

I have been waiting for the routine to begin so lets get on with it.  I like to know what my kids will be doing and find out their schedules but hours of meetings about it are not necessary.  Especially all at the same time.

Libby

The dog is almost 10 years old (70 in doggy years) and she sure is showing it.  A few weeks ago she was throwing up blood and we had to rush her to the vet.  She is sort of OK now, if you don't count the 4 times she needs to go out at night, the off and on bouts of stomach ailments, and the fact that she's never really, truly been well.  Oh, Libby, we love you, but you are one big needy, sickly, costly, pain in the ass.

Matt & I

This is the worst, most debilitating sickness of them all.  We both, at the same time, have caught the "let's throw caution to the wind, get liquored up, forget about birth control, and see if we end up with another baby" illness.

Yes, you read that right.

It is a sickness that causes you to lose your mind and neglect all the common sense you usually have.  You block out that the bread-winner is currently job-hunting, that the baby-carrier is almost 40, that we wanted to be able to afford to go to Disney World before 2015.

This is followed quickly by the sober reality that this was probably not a wise thing to do.

Primary symptom:  Nausea

And perhaps a little bit of excitement.

The Time Game

For as long as I can remember, I have played a game inside my head about time.  It goes like this:

I start by thinking about the same day, one year ago.  For instance, September 10th, 2006.  Then I ask myself what is happening right now that would have been impossible for me to imagine last year at this time.  Like, if you told me on 9/10/06 that I’d be running regularly and that I have a blog (not sure I even knew what one was at that time) and I even went to a blogging conference, I wouldn’t have believed you.  I also play this forward into the future, wondering what might be going on in September of 2008 that I couldn’t possibly foresee now.  Will we live in a different house?  Will we have a new baby?  Will I have a job? 

Get it?

A lot can happen in a year.  It never ceases to amaze me that, if I pick any moment in time, there is always something significant that is happening in my life that I would have never been able to believe one year ago.

At the same time, there are many constants.  I know that next year, I’ll be a year older.  So will Matt and the kids (provided nothing happens to anyone, a version of the game I rarely play, as in what if so-and-so died.  I usually don’t do this.  But I have gone down that road.).  I know that it will be the weekend after Labor Day, after school has already begun, a weekend an ex-boyfriend of mine used to call “the best weekend of sports all year” because it is the opening day for college and professional football, the US Open tennis tournament finals, baseball games getting close to the finals, all at the same time.  A weekend I tend to look forward to as the start of fall, my favorite season, and the beginning of school.  A new start, much better than January 1st.  I am still tan and haven’t started worrying about the holidays yet.

There are many variations of this game to play.  Take, for instance, this weekend.  I can go back in time to 2000, when Matt and I had been married for a month.  My parents had just sold their Day Care School and I was out of a job.  I was wondering if I might be pregnant while I started taking Sociology courses to pursue that elusive Liberal Arts degree.  At that time, I would have been able to imagine having a 4 month old child a year later.  But I didn’t know that I would have such terrible morning sickness and I would abandon my dream of getting a masters degree.  I certainly could have never predicted the horrific terrorist attacks of 9/11 that were one year away.

Or two years ago when Scott started prekindergarten and our world was in such upheaval.  We didn’t know what was wrong with him, but we had come to the conclusion that we all needed some help.  At that time, I surely didn’t believe that one year later he’d be starting kindergarten and doing so well.  Or last year, when Scott got on that bus to go to the big school, I guess I never imagined that we’d be here, with him going to first grade without any additional help at all.

You can further morph this game by looking at any time when something big was happening, say a job change or a house move, and think about one year before.  Would you have been able to know about it?  Or just pick any old time and challenge yourself to come up with at least one significant thing that was impossible for you to imagine happening one year prior.

Or you can shorten or extend the time.  Like a month ago or even a week out.  What has been unexpected?   

As an over-thinker, the fact that I play this game shouldn’t surprise you.  I am prone to continually analyzing my life.  What does amaze me is that I take such delight in the unpredictableness of life when viewed this way.  I am such a control freak.  One who always wants an answer, a clear path from point a to b.  No surprises.  And yet, I love this about life.  That I am always surprised.  That it is impossible for me to know what lies ahead.

Go figure.

You Knew There'd Be a Story, Right?

Because if you read this blog you either know me already and are aware of how my life goes or you are getting a sense of it by what you've read.  Or if you are new here, let me spell it out:  I am one of those people who, no matter how hard I try for it not to be this way, something crazy always happens.  Insert your favorite cliche:  Never a dull moment, It's always something, What can go wrong will, blah, blah, blah.

So in a bad karma, what you worry about the most, focusing on the negative, putting your energy into thinking about what can go wrong (a la, how NOT to follow The Secret), I couldn't stop thinking about those huge teeth, I am completely neurotic about Scott riding his bike, trying not to let him know I feel all these things kind of moment...

Scott fell off his bike after the first day of First Grade. 

I saw the whole thing unfolding before my eyes.  I am psychic that way.  Which begs the question of whether I truly am or whether I somehow bring this kind of shit on.  I knew it was going to happen.  Like a bad movie, where you can guess the plot because it is so obvious.

He got off the bus and I tried to hug him and he pulled away.  He was focused on asking the neighbors (twins who just started Kindergarten) to play outside.  I told him we needed to go inside and talk, like we had planned.  He said little, but insisted on going next door.  Finally, I relented, because I didn't want to get in a fight after not seeing him all day.  He begged the kids to come outside.  While he waited, he brought out the basketball.  "My muscles are tired, mommy," he said, puzzled.

When the boy next door emerged from his house, he went right to his bike and started pedaling around.  Not to be outdone by the younger child, Scott pleaded with me to let him ride, too.  "I'll go slow, right here on the driveway, please." 

"Okay." 

Except I knew it was a mistake.  Scott is not a very skilled bike rider.  He was tired.  He doesn't have the best balance.  He is not a quick thinker.

Within minutes, Scott was racing toward me on the bike.  I told him to slow down.  He panicked and jumped off the bike.  Well, he tried to jump, but he fell.  Right onto his face. 

Immediately, I scooped him up and ran inside.  One of the things I learned from my mom, both growing up and from working with her at the day care, is how to handle a hurt child.  Assess the situation.  Stay calm.  Ask if you can get a reasonable answer.  Be reassuring.  Even though I hate this sort of thing, I can handle it.

His mouth was full of blood and he was screaming.  I knew I needed to check his teeth.  Those big front teeth that I kept looking at.  Scott is horrible about cuts and scrapes.  He refuses to put ice on anything.  He kept crying, "I couldn't stop!"

After a long time, I finally got to check the teeth.  No wiggling, but they are scraped.  He was whimpering that he missed out on playing.  That everything was going wrong.  I felt so sad and responsible.

So, on Scott's second day of First Grade, he went to school with a big fat lip.  But life goes on.  He is healing up.   I think I can wait to get his teeth checked.

I remember when my sister got married and I was 21 years old.  I was so worried about doing something wrong on my big sister's special day.  I was the maid of honor and knew nothing about weddings.  Finally, someone said, just accept the fact that you will screw up somehow and stop thinking about it.  They were right. 

This is one of those life lessons I just can't seem to learn.  I like to imagine all the things that can go wrong, believing that then I can avoid them.  Futile.  I know.

A day later, as Scott was going to bed, he said, "Mom, I'm really lucky."

"You are?  Why do you say that?"

"Because, you know, my teeth could have gotten knocked out, or even worse.  I never seem to get hurt too badly and I never get sick.  I am lucky that way."

Oh, yes, you are lucky.  Thank you, once again, my wonderful son, for showing me the way.

I feel very lucky, too.

C'mon Summer, Let's Hug It Out

Summer? 

Before you go, we need to talk. 

I am sorry I haven't always been so nice to you.  I've complained about your arrival.  I bemoaned your bright days that require sunscreen and bugspray.  Your lack of adherence to a schedule.  No school or rules.

I know I haven't exactly been fair.  I mean, my birthday falls during your time.  And a number of really great things have happened to me when you've been visiting.  Years of playing kick the can and wandering around the neighborhood.  Going to my cousin's house and swimming and exploring in the woods.  Boat rides up at the river.  My first kiss, my first love, my first job.  As a teenager I loved your long, idle days and hot, unpredictable nights.

I love that we wear sandals together and I can let my hair dry on its own.  I dig your strapy tops and brown skin.  Kids playing in sprinklers.  Ripe blueberries, green beans and tomatoes fresh from the garden.  Eating outside.  Fireworks.

And this year, you've really outdone yourself.  The kids have grown so much.  Reached amazing milestones.  I've evolved, too, with the running and blogging.  And Matt, he's finally making the move he's been thinking about for so long.  You've ushered in some really cool changes for our family.

But, I just can't handle that much of you.  You insist that we have a fabulous time when sometimes, I just don't want to be that happy.  You arrive with such fanfare and intensity.  Then, you slowly burn everything out.  The lawn is brown, my garden is doomed, even Scott's sunflower has withered up.  You're not good for me.  I do better with a routine.  And, quite frankly, I've always looked forward to when it's time for you to leave.

(psst...BFF, Autumn, I know you are ready to move in.  I've felt your presence for the last few weeks.  It gets dark earlier and the nights are cooler.  I hear the marching band practicing.  I set up your room.  The windows are open.  I am so looking forward to your visit this year.  To watching football games and going to the pumpkin patch.  To raking leaves and pulling on sweaters.  She's almost gone now, I know you don't like to be pushy, she'll see it's your turn soon ...)

I know you aren't quite ready to go.  That even though school starts tomorrow, technically you still have a few weeks.   So while you are still here, I'll try hard to appreciate you.  To remember how I felt about you as a kid.  I'll look forward to your return next year and all that you will bring.

One last hug before you go?

Now, move on, girl, your time is up.

Our Time

Scott has been reasonably anxious about starting first grade.  Over the past few weeks he has progressed from seeming to be quite scared to a calm, mature realization that it will all be fine once he gets started.  His two biggest concerns have been that he won't want to use a regular, paper napkin and either he'll get in trouble about this (not likely) or he will be embarrassed to use the cloth napkin he will bring from home (quite possible).  The second concern is that because he will be away from me for such a long time (8:45am - 4:15pm) he will want to tell me things and will forget them.

Scott loves to tell me stuff.  Usually, this is great.  I felt like I knew about most of his day when he was in Kindergarten.  He would detail out what happened when, who said what, what he did and even how he felt.  He notices everything and has an unbelievable memory.

I say, usually, because sometimes he tells me stuff I don't need to hear.  Like, he'll run upstairs saying, "I tripped in the basement and hurt my leg, but I'm fine now."  OK, Scott, I didn't need to know that.  Or, "today, on the way to school, the bus went a different way."  Also, do not need to know.

For awhile I thought he felt he had to tell me things so that he wouldn't get in trouble for not saying something.  Better to err on the side of too much information.  Maybe that's part of it, but I think it is more about being so connected to him.  He knows I will listen, that I will care, and, well, who else will?  He doesn't have friends that he would share things with that he wouldn't tell me.  At least not yet.

Yesterday when I was helping Scott brush his teeth I noticed that he is getting freckles on his face.  Tiny, cute, little freckles.  They go with his huge teeth that keep distracting me every time I look at him.  How is it that he has those enormous teeth already?  The ones he will have for the rest of his life?  Anyway, I pointed out the freckles to him and to Matt.  While Matt and I think the freckles are adorable, Scott made it clear that he did not.

Tonight he told me he doesn't want the freckles, he wants his baby teeth back, he doesn't want to grow up.  Not unusual for a soon to be first grader, right?  But then, as I tucked him into bed, he did surprise me:

"Mommy, I am not really worried about first grade.  I know it doesn't matter about the napkin.  And, if I forget to tell you stuff, well that's OK, right?  I mean, you don't have to know everything, right?  And once I get to know the schedule and the rules and my teacher, I'm sure I'll like it."

"Well, yes, sweetie, that's very mature of you, I'm sure you will be fine.  It's always hard to start new things, but once you get over the first part, chances are it will be good."

"Mommy?  What's the bestest thing about your body as you get older?  Like, when you aren't a kid anymore.  Is it having big teeth?"

"Hmm, well you get smarter and you know more things, so maybe your mind.  Or just that you get stronger both in your physical self, like being able to lift things, and in your mental state, being able to handle life, understand things."

"Some adults aren't stronger.  You know, like, they can't even run.  And grandparents, they are even weaker.  And Grandpa, he's not smarter, he can't add numbers in his head like I can."

"Um, OK, I guess that's partly true.  Maybe I need to think about my answer a little more."

"Maybe you are just having an off night, mom.  Usually you are really good at this.  I love our time together when we get to talk like this."

"Me, too."

"Mommy?  When I get home from school can we talk about my day and talk like this for awhile?  Maybe Jane can watch tv, so we can have our time."

"Sounds like a good plan, buddy."

"That makes me a lot less worried about school."

"If we miss each other we can think about how we will have our time each day to talk."

"Good night, mom, I love you."

"Good night, Scott, I love you." 

I know it is good for him to realize he doesn't need to tell me everything, but for now, I hope he keeps telling me as much as he wants to.  I know I will look forward to our time together just as much as he will.