A Wedding, A Yacht and Lobster Murder. Oh My!

     Last weekend finally dawned the date of my sister's wedding. Not one person involved will dispute me when I say it was a rough few months. My sister just wanted the entire thing over with by the end.
    
     The day before the wedding was rocky, to say the least. However, the day of the wedding dawned, and the weather was perfect, and by the time everyone was finished with hair and makeup, people seemed to have relaxed a little.
     I have never had my makeup done. It took about half an hour, and layer after layer after layer was applied. When the tech handed me a mirror, to check it out, I jumped a little. It looked exactly like the makeup on a corpse laid out in a funeral home. At a distance, it looked great! Up close, when you don't expect it, it was startling.

     I am not a fan of "Selfies" and tend to roll my eyes a little when I see people post selfie after selfie after selfie - seriously - if you are the center of attention with your kid in the lower corner of the pic, and you're all #isn'tmykidadorbs? NO ONE believes this is about your adorbs kid, and EVERYONE knows you expect at least 40 "OH MY GOSH!!! YOU ARE SOOOOO GORGEOUS!!!!" replies.
 
     That being said: I posted a bunch of selfies on Facebook after the hair and makeup portion of the wedding events. Because, seriously, with 47 layers of makeup on, that looked decent (from a distance!) and the next chance of having that kind of make up being when I am laid out and people are commenting on the horrendous outfit Bearded Man is bound to pick out for me, I wanted to immortalize it while I could. I NEVER look that put together. My hair and makeup routine takes less than 3 minutes in the morning. I have to get myself, 4 kids, 2 dogs and a cat up, fed and ready for the day. And spend at least 5 minutes trying to convince Bearded Man to get out of bed. So. I took pictures, so I can see how I COULD look if I ever become wealthy and have the time and money to have 47 layers of makeup applied to my face every day. I wouldn't be able to see to enjoy it anyway. I discovered my glasses sink about 1/4" into it, when I tried to wear them.

     After hair and makeup, it was time for mani pedi's. I have not had either since I treated myself after nursing graduation several years ago.

     I discovered that, no matter how many times you scrub and shower, that, the effects of gardening in bare feet are discernible. I discovered that I felt bad for sitting like a princess in a massage chair, while a slim Oriental Man pampered my feet. I apologized several times, completely uncomfortable, thinking about this poor little guy, crouched in this uncomfortable position, rubbing my feet and legs until he finally made bottle gestures and inquired if I was drinking.

     Once at the wedding site, things progressed well. All of my kids were in the wedding. I didn't think too hard about George's behavior, until we were all under the gazebo, and my boys were completely unreachable by myself, all the way over on the other side, near the Groom's men. And I watched helplessly, as George kicked Joe repeatedly. Until Joe retaliated. They began to kick each other, with a few well aimed slugs in there, too, while George grinned smugly at me. I am sure every single picture captures me scowling at my boys and shaking my head threateningly at them.

     There was an awkward moment after someone handed me a glass of wine. I had been standing with a group of people and we were laughing very hard, and I had taken approximately 4 sips of wine. The preacher pulled me aside and inquired if I was okay and if I had maybe drank a little too  much? I swear, I was not NEARLY as obnoxious as that sounds... I had caught up with a person I knew from my brothers' baseball days, and they were asking what my married name was now..... It went downhill from there. We were ALL laughing. However, I am pretty sure the preacher was expecting bad behavior from me, judging from a few comments made here and there. Water under the bridge and all that.... For goodness' sake, I was the picture of decent propriety.

     Bearded Man has made Craig's List his best friend. Yesterday, I received a picture of a 1964 rusted travel trailer. As in; one of those little trailers you see in the Westerns where a bad guy lives? I swear, I didn't tell him that if he brought it home, he could plan on living in it. But I wanted to.
     Today, I received a text full of pictures of a 17' boat on a trailer, hooked to the back of his truck. He found it on the "Free" page, and had dreams of a yacht. It evidently  requires a lot of work and a  $5,000. engine, and will undoubtedly end up rotting in the (newly cleaned out) driveway for the next year. If he manages to get it home in one piece, it should be parked semi permanently in the driveway by morning. The challenge of keeping the kids off  and out of it should prove interesting.

     Pretty much that's it. Currently, we are hoping to get started with painting the house within the next few weeks. Also, the brother of a friend of mine is going to New Hampshire on July 3rd, to get lobsters, fresh out of the ocean. I have never tried lobster, and thought this might be a good opportunity to do so, so, decided to get in on that, and buy lobsters, and invite  people over, and have lobster and chicken wings for the 4th of July. I have never tasted lobster, and certainly never cooked a lobster, and obviously, am in completely over my head, deciding to take on cooking LOTS of lobsters for lots of people, all at once. The chef next door told Jasin we needed to just boil them till they are red. I was all "WHAT? Aren't they ALREADY red???!!!!" While trying REALLY hard not to think about wrestling lots of live angry lobsters into boiling water without myself or the kids crying. Honestly, this has the potential to cause trauma and the need for therapy. Or at least the best family story for generations to come. (Seriously. If anyone out there has the slightest clue what they're doing, I will buy your lobster, if you will come over and murder every one's dinner and subsequently cook it.....Thanks!)

    

MOVE!

      I recently posted on Facebook that I feel like hyperventilating when I see my calendar, currently. Pretty much, we are booked through June.

     This past weekend, in the midst of the 1001 things we were scheduled for, we had some downtime, while we waited for the kids to finish up their last day of Sunday School for the year. We decided to drive around Cuba Lake, and clock the distance, as I have decided I must ride my bike around it. It's about 5 miles, and, if you ride counter clock around it, there is more downhill than uphill. So, I can feel all good about myself for riding my bike 5 miles around the lake, and you know, not die. The thought being that: If I did not die, then, the kids probably wouldn't either, so, after my trial run around the lake, then I could drag the older kids. My goal being at least one very active family activity every weekend this summer.
     After all this planning and discussing of long bike rides around the lake, and feeling all "Yes! I have a plan! We will be ACTIVE! I ROCK!" we wandered over to the church to pick up the kids from Sunday School and also attend the Sunday School teacher's meeting for the next School year. For which Bearded Man volunteered me to teach. A group of 7th and 8th graders. Because their teacher quit. Because they are mostly awful.
     While leaning against a wall waiting for my kids, along came this other mom. Wearing Lycra that all coordinated, was skin tight, ear buds dangling around her shoulders, perfect hair, glowing complexion, and magazine perfect husband, who also coordinated, and had perfect hair. They breezily announced they had just run 4 miles, and neither of them had a hair out of place. And, since I am probably going to hell anyway (With this knowledge, SHOULD I be teaching Sunday school? I really think there should probably be people who at least have a sporting chance at heaven, teaching it. Not the resignation of probable eternity being punished by no sleep and Frozen played non stop into infinity ....) I wasn't too surprised by my immediate desire to trip them. But, since we were already at the bottom of the stairs, it wasn't worth the energy to do something that rotten - and in church - but, it probably would have gotten me out of teaching Sunday School. I was told to submit a lesson plan for my class while I contemplated it, and wanted to hyperventilate again.

     In concluding that story: I will probably try to ride my bike around Cuba Lake in the near future. And, I did not trip the perfect couple, so, I hope that counts someplace.

     Continuing on my MOVE theme, We are counting down the days to my sister's wedding. Since I am strictly forbidden by my sister to talk about her or the wedding in any form - even to herself - and Nicole From Sears has now taken over every aspect of the wedding, including the decorating I was supposed to do,  I CAN say that, there is still the possibility that I will come down with some dehabilitating illness, or break a bone, or win a weekend once in a lifetime trip to the Bahamas or get kidnapped by pirates or called into duty as a Secret Agent, or Aliens will abduct me, or all roads leading out of Franklinville will crumble, and I will not be able to go. I am not saying I don't WANT to go, because that isn't nice. I AM saying, all of these things COULD happen at any time. Which would be tragic.

     Also, while we are talking about moving, I recently schlepped unenthusiastically to Kaila's Spanish Club Zumbathon. I was tired, and grouchy and had not had 5 seconds to just sit down after work, and did not want to go. However, Kaila and I are super close, and the thought of letting her down got me in the whole guilt department, so, I went. And I told the sitter that I would be gone an hour, tops. And probably be dead, too. I have never done Zumba. Once, when I was at the YMCA working out, I saw the Zumba people doing their thing and thought there was no way I could do it.
     I did it for TWO WHOLE  HOURS!!! And I LOVED it! That stuff is like crack. It's like, people who have never done it are all, "What is WRONG with you people? GET. A. LIFE." (Well, I was, anyway...) then, you go and do it, and it's like "I WANT TO TELL THE WHOOOOOLE WORLD, HOW AWESOME AND AMAZING ZUMBA IS, AND IT'S PRETTY MUCH ALL I WANT TO DO EVERY DAY, AND ALL I WILL TALK ABOUT EVER EVER AGAIN!!!!!!" And so, once baseball season is over, and I hopefully avoid jail time by not taking out the mom that spends every single game and practice glaring at me and whispering to her friends, I am so going to do Zumba. And, maybe, be able to ride my bike around Cuba Lake Clockwise up hills, too. A girl can dream, anyway.

     So, there is this whole summer planned around moving. Moving at crazy paces every weekend for the million things planned, be it Weddings, First Communions, Birthdays, parties, baseball; whatever.
     There are the bike rides we want to take, the Zumba I want to do, and the walking I do with my tea drinking friend Sue at a truly obscene hour every weekday morning. It seems like it will be a busy summer, and,  hopefully I can come up with a lesson plan for a class full of, by Kaila's description, a large group of Kids headed for certain time in Federal Prisons right out of Juvenile detention. I cannot control my 4 year old in church ("George! STOP acting like Spider Man in church!!" "I am NOT pretending to be Spider Man! I am pretending to be JESUS, and he can spin webs and throw them if he WANTS to!!!" *Sigh*) So, I am unsure of my ability to control a group of what sounds like hardened thugs for 90 minutes once a week. The last teacher sent Kaila to the head of Religious Ed with the message that she was LEAVING, and NOT cleaning out her classroom, on Sunday....

     Wish me luck in all the above endeavors!!!

Giving Your Kid Wings

     Last night, my (almost) 13  year old daughter stumbled off a bus, fresh from Washington DC, right around 11:30.

     This trip was a huge opportunity for her, as one of 10 kids selected from her school to go for 4 days.
     We were up at 4:30 am Mother's Day morning, after 2 days of trying to get my chronically unorganized kid packed and organized. During which I had a taste of what parenting a teen will be like - in that I now have the ability to go all Exorcist and turn my head completely around, while hitting all notes of Operatic range, from shrill soprano to deepest bass. All in one sentence.
    
    On the way to the school to catch the bus, she announced she we were sending her into dangerous areas. If she didn't end  up in a fiery bus collision/explosion, then, there would probably be terrorists, shootings and bombs in Washington.
      She did make it both ways without any explosions, on her bus or any other. Nor were there any shooters, terrorists or bombs in Washington.
     She did threaten to call the manager of the hotel, when the balcony doors would not open, nor the windows. And the view was awful. And there were kids running up and down the hallways making all kinds of racket, and this was unacceptable. The manager has no idea how grateful he should be, that they kept her too busy to call...
     She learned that there are few people in Washington DC that speak English, and even fewer that are nice to school kids.

     She also had a great time. They crammed in so much during their short time in DC! I received excited texts and pictures, and animated phone calls, chronicling all her adventures. She learned a lot, saw a lot, did a lot. I was so glad she had the opportunity.

    The kids were told that this was not in replacement of their school work. They knew going into it that, they were expected in school the day after the trip, and that they would have 4 days of tests and homework to catch up on. Oh yes, and the school concert tonight. And the flowers from their flower sale came in and needed to be handed out today for 2 hours after school. They were all aware of this.

     One mom, however, was not happy about it last night, when the bus arrived. Parents started getting out of their vehicles, to go see their kids, as they stumbled off the bus. The teacher was the first one off, and, out of nowhere, an SUV zoomed through the parking lot, and stomped on the brakes in front of the bus, cutting the kids and their parents off from each other. Kids were getting off the bus, as the mom began to scream at the teacher in the MOST vulgar language, for having the kids  back so late, and expecting so much of them today. She was vicious and mean and rude and nasty. And her son was humiliated. She never even acknowledged him, as, head down, he climbed into the passenger side while she ranted.
     Parents stopped, dumbfounded, and one dad said "Is she SERIOUS?" as the teacher, in exhausted frustration bit his tongue and just tried to let it roll over him.
     Eventually, the screaming stopped, and she stomped on the gas peddle and zoomed back out of the parking lot.
     Kids who had been set to run to their parents stood in confusion, and parents were trying to let the teacher know that we didn't all feel this way. It wasn't like the kids hadn't been told this was how it was going to be.

     Guess what our kids will learn today? They will learn that, sometimes, when you are really really tired, you will still have responsibilities. You will still have obligations. You will need to get it all done. You will not always have someone to bail you out. You may hate every moment of it, but, it has to be done. And on the other side of it, you will feel a huge sense of accomplishment, and a lot of pride in yourself, because, you did it! All on your own, because you can.
     Some day, in the not so distant future, these kids will be on their own. In college, raising families, in the work force in some capacity. And sometimes, there are situations when you have to call on reserves you didn't know you had, to get things done, or else. Today, they might get a taste of it. I honestly don't think parents do their kids any favors, when they shield them from every little thing. They will never grow into independent, productive confident adults, if they aren't allowed to have some space, be expected to be responsible, be allowed to problem solve, be allowed to feel that sense of pride that they CAN get things done when things are rough, or be allowed to stand on their own two feet, without their parents holding them up and blocking every less than perfect situation. Some times, you have to give your kid wings, and shove them out of the nest, for their own good.


     Speaking of wings. Here in Western New York, we have a little boy who, gained his this week.

     It began as a mom, writing a Blog, about her son, a little boy with an identical twin brother, who had been diagnosed with stage iv brain cancer. His mom was begging people to pray for a miracle for her baby.
     It took off, in the most unexpected way. A campaign called "Blue For Ben" began. Offices across the region, and even across the country, had "Dress Blue for Ben" days. As did schools. Niagara Falls was lit Blue, the Peace Bridge, office buildings, also turned blue for Ben. Tens of thousands of people prayed for this family, as Ben's mother begged for a miracle for her son. Support poured in from all over the world.
     And Ben's mom continued to chronicle their story via her Blog. Mom's everywhere wept, as they thought of their own kids, and viewed such heartbreak, written from a Mother's point of view.
     With each Blog post, it was evident that, the miracle that Ben's mom had prayed for, was not going to happen. With each post sadder than the last, and not one person I know who could read it without crying, it was clear that Ben was not going to make it.
     In all reality though, Ben's mom DID get her miracle. Just not the one she was looking for. Because, through it all, Ben's mom showed the whole world what amazing faith she had. She almost seemed to accept the inevitable with more grace and acceptance than her followers did. Posts on Facebook wondered in anguish WHY this should happen to a little boy, and not a terrible criminal? Where was the justice? How was this fair? Yes, yes yes, at the same time, Jim Kelly, the retired Buffalo Bills quarter back has cancer, and that's sad,  but, a little boy??? A little boy who loves to play with frogs?? And catch snakes? And who has those DIMPLES?? EVERYONE felt Ben and his family tug on their heartstrings. When Ben's mom announced she was pregnant, it made it even harder to bear. Growing the life of one baby, while watching another fade away. Pregnancy hormones, and the grief of watching your baby's days dwindle. The miracle that Ben's mom got was not that Ben could heal and the cancer would be gone.
     The miracle that Ben's mom got was, herself. She showed the entire Western New York area, and people worldwide, what an amazing faith she had. She brought together communities and parents everywhere, into one big prayer chain. She showed us all this absolute faith in God, and this acceptance of His will, that I don't know I could be a good enough person to ever accept. She showed everyone her serenity with the complete belief that Ben was in heaven, and he was okay, and that God had given them a huge blessing , just letting them borrow Ben for 5 short years. How many parents can honestly say they would feel as Ben's mom did? I don't know that I could.

     Since I am at work, and this post is making me all weepy, I think I should stop writing about Ben.

     I guess, there are all sorts of ways, to give your child wings. Be it Independence, or responsibility, or stepping  back, and letting them deal with life on their own, or, letting them go to heaven, with the trust that God's got this.