An Hour in the Brain of a Very Not So Perfect Mama

     Yesterday after work, I unenthusiastically schlepped across the street to the local mall, with the seats of my van folded down, to go get the new dryer.


     I accidently parked at an entrance that I thought was close to the Sears store, but, in fact, was not. I then walked past a man of indiscernible age, sitting next to the entrance, looking homeless, and completely uninterested in the fact that someone was standing within 2 feet of him, and, in my tired and hyper overdrive state, walked right past him. Through the entire tired trek through the mall (Seriously, it wasn't much of a trek. It's a small mall.) I felt the absolute guilt building up. Guilt all over the place. What if the man was homeless? What if he was sick? What if he was on drugs? What if he needed help?  What kind of person was I, that I hadn't even stopped to talk to him?? I stumbled past a security guard that looked about 15 years old and tried not to look thuggish, as I worried about that man outside. (I have a security guard phobia. I have been followed by security through Wal Mart THREE ADDITIONAL TIMES since the Christmas shopping debacle of last December. I must look shady.) I was thinking about this and about the time, as, I had precisely 45 minutes to pick up the dryer, get it loaded into the van, do the 25 minute drive home, and get Lexi to the High School for 7th Grade Orientation. Also, I was starving, and had nothing appropriate to wear to the school, which brings us back to the dryer - and the piles of laundry sitting in front of the broken dryer at home.  In that pile would be Mom appropriate clothes. Which brought me to "perfect mom". She is this woman who intimidates the daylights out of me. She is always perfect. Her hair, her clothes, her accessories, her figure, her life. I feel inadequate every single time I am near her. Perfect mom was going to also be at the 7th grade orientation. Perfect  Mom would never be this harried, this stressed, I just KNEW she would have the perfect clothes on,  and perfect mom is also a good Christian woman, who absolutely would have stopped and helped out the (possibly) homeless man on her way into the mall. Seriously. This woman intimidates the daylights out of me. I have a hard time even forming words to talk to her, because I am pretty sure I will sound like an idiot if I make the attempt. I will never ever be Perfect Mom.


      Upon entrance to Sears, I am besieged by three sales associates, all wanting to help. I tell them I am here for a pick up, and two of them disappear, leaving me with one I am familiar with. He is the sweetest, nicest older gentleman ever.
     He also is completely unable to ever work the computers.


     My mind was currently at:

• You are going to HELL! If that man outside was a test, you just FAILED!
• I am going to be so so so late and Lexi is going to be so so so upset!
• What if the dryer doesn't fit? In the van or into the laundry room?
• I honest to goodness have nothing decent to wear to this thing!
• What is the weather outside, anyhow? How did I not notice what the weather was???
• Why is the Security Guard in here - again?!
• Seriously. Am I old, or, do they hire middle school kids for these security things?
• I am really sick of Turkey soup. Seriously. Sick of it.
• OMG. I NEED to get out of here! I am going to be so late!
• I think I am in Sears enough, I could probably help this guy figure the computer out.
• Did he really just snicker over my last name? Well. Everybody does, honestly.
• What if the guy sitting outside really needed someone to stop and ask if he was okay?
• Okay. If I can get on the road in the next five minutes, and everyone does speed limit, and I don't get stuck behind someone doing the traditional 27 mph all the way home, I can make it in time.
• We are going to have to walk to the school - the dryer is in the van. The van needs to stay home.
• OMG. If I am late, Lexi will be in tears.
• Seriously, just give me the darn dryer!!!!!!!
• I really cannot afford this stupid thing.

Anyhow. I eventually got clearance to bring my vehicle to the back entrance to Sears, and pick up the appliance I really did not want to have to buy in the first place. Back through the mall, and down the hallway to the entrance I had parked near. I opened the door, and found the man still alive and sitting there. I stopped.


     "Are you okay?"


     "Yeah. Why?"


     "I just wanted to make sure. Is there anything I can do for you? Or, are you just hanging out?"


     "Nah, I'm all good lady. Thanks for asking."


     "Are you sure?"


     "Yeah. I'm sure."


     "Okay. Well. Have a good night."


     "Thanks."


Not sure if that was helpful to anyone. I still felt like I could have done more for him. Anyhow. On to the loading dock. The dryer was loaded in short order, with plenty of comments that this was a heavier than usual dryer "Oh! She ordered the BIG one!" along the way. My brain was still in hyper gear, and my body was not. Thus the following took place:


     "Okay, you're all set! Thanks for shopping with us again!"


     "You guy are great! When the next appliance dies, You come see me!"


Black stares


     "Oh. My. Goodness. I MEANT I will come see me!"


Blank stares


     "You. I mean. You know. Ummm. Hope this doesn't die?"


 Blank stares


     "You're all great! Thanks!"


And I dove into my van and left in short order.


     I decided on a super fast stop to Burger King. Just a small milkshake and fries. I couldn't remember the last time I had either. Or stopped at a fast food place. I placed my order, and promptly forgot what kind of shake I had ordered. What the hell? Seriously? I should have just gone home. I didn't have time for this anyhow.


     "HEY! MORIAH! Is that YOU?" Came a shout. My old next door neighbor happened to be standing near the drive thru. We commiserated about how much we both still disliked his ex wife, I admired pictures of his new sports car, bought in celebration of no longer having to pay alimony, and, discovered I had ordered a strawberry shake. Which is what I wanted, so, that was good.


     I made it home with ten minutes to spare, and decided that the clothing dilemma was solved, because I did not have time to change, anyhow. So, wearing my black scrubs, I trotted Lexi  down the road to the school.
     Where I discovered that  the weather was hot and sunny. And the school was warm and muggy. And Perfect Mom looked perfect. I did not. I had my old glasses that did not want to stay attached to my face, balanced on my nose, (If you recall, my good glasses are someplace at the bottom of Black Lake.)  my hair was just awful, I was wearing hot black scrubs, and, considering that less than an hour ago, I could barely form a coherent thought or sentence, I decided that this was probably not the day to try and strike up a conversation with her.


     Lexi, however, was a treat. She excitedly greeted every person she knew with a compliment. She had something nice to say to everyone. She introduced herself to all her new teachers, she had dressed up and accessorized for the occasion, and, was generally determined to say something nice to absolutely everyone, so that no one would feel awkward. She insisted upon being the kindest person she could be. I was so proud of her!


     Anyhow. When all was said and done, the dryer was installed. The laundry was begun. The first load went into the dryer, and the array of buttons was perused, and the dryer was started. In "Energy Star" mode. Which, I discovered, takes approximately 40 days and 40 nights to actually dry a load of laundry. You can be an energy star, or, you can dry your laundry before the kids outgrow it. I don't know if you can have both. Mostly, I was too tired to decide last night.


     And, there you have, an hour in the brain of a very not so perfect mama. Give or take a few minutes or so....


    

Veggies All Over the Darn Place

     I have a very rare break at the craziness of my job, so, decided to do a quick update. I do this, over tea and zucchini bread. Mostly because, it is probably the only opportunity to drink tea and eat zucchini bread that I will have. Follow along:


     This past weekend, we had no obligations. Nobody needed to be carted/hauled/present/taken/obligated to be anywhere for anything. Well, except Kaila, who had to babysit all weekend, but, all her babysitting jobs were within walking distance. So, I decided to get caught  up on stuff. I made a full turkey dinner. Mowed the lawn, cleaned out the van, cleaned the house, weeded my gardens (YAY! First year pretty much EVER that I have kept my gardens up this long! Progress!) ordered a new dryer, grocery shopped, and, cooked.
     By "cooked" I mean, I cooked everything. I turned the turkey carcass into stock, and the stock into turkey veggie rice soup, the kids helped eat most of the sugar cookie dough make sugar cookies, I turned a monster zucchini into four loaves of zucchini walnut bread, I made a broccoli salad from a recipe I saw on Facebook. I cooked and I cooked and I cooked. There were no veggies that were safe, in my kitchen. Veggies all over the darn place. Actually, when the kids were helping to cart in groceries, one of them inquired if we were having a party, as, there was an awful lot of vegetables in those grocery bags...
     Anyhow. After a solid eight hours of cooking yesterday, dinner time rolled around. The refrigerator (AKA, The only appliance I own that hasn't had to be replaced since I bought it 6 years ago.) was full of all this veggie goodness, the soup was simmering in an enormous  stock pot on the stove, and the kids were hungry. As were all seven of the various neighbor kids that seem to live at my house these days. The extras were sent home, and my own kids filed in for dinner. "What's for dinner?" they inquired.


     "What do you mean, what's for dinner? I just spent all day cooking it! We have soup! We have broccoli salad! Bearded Man smoked ribs out on his smoker! And, after dinner, there are cookies and zucchini bread!"


     "But. We don't LIKE soup. Or broccoli. Can we just have PB&J, or cereal or something?"


     "There are approximately four thousand servings of soup in that pot! Eat soup!!!"


     "You should probably freeze it. You will have soup for your work lunches!" They informed me.


Lexi tried some soup. That was about it. I now have a refrigerator full of all things veggie, and, no one to eat them. Except the zucchini bread. They will be all over that. Thus, the rare break at work, in which I incorporated zucchini bread and tea, as, the scavengers at home will likely eat most of it before I have a chance at it.


     It's hard to believe, but, the Second Annual Dick Family Trip to Black Lake has come and gone already. It's this weird little time warp, in which, once you are gone, you can barely believe it happened, and it's a nice memory, but, once you are there, it seems like you never really left, and everything is exactly the same as it was (yesterday) when you were here last. This year, more notice was taken of the campers next door to us. They just so happen to have two boys that just so happen to be the same ages as our two girls. All I have to say about that, is, a "One foot apart at all times" rule was instated fairly early in the week.
     Some high lights of the trip included : Water Tubing! Both of my boys loved it, both of my girls hated it. And, nobody could go fast enough for George. We discovered Lexi can scream loudly enough that she can be heard clear across the lake, during her (only) attempt at tubing.
  
     A near death experience out on the lake one day, when three of us families went out, it turns out, ahead of a storm. Boats were stuck, my glasses were lost, one boat broke down, and waves were crashing over our wildly tossing boat. Everyone and everything ended up okay in the long run, but, it was a pretty intense hour or so...


     Crazy heat. Every day was nearly unbearable, as everyone wilted under high temps. So, most afternoons were spent in the water.


     Fishing. There was a lot of fishing, and threats aimed at Bearded Man, regarding his alarm going off every. single. day. of. our. vacation. The only day it did not go off; the last day of vacation. However,  his boss called him early, asking him to come in. So, out of the nine days off I had: Not one of them was spent sleeping in. But, I suppose lots of fish were caught, so, there is that.


     George has been offered a job working at the camp ground the summer he turns 16. Just like at home, we couldn't keep him from his wanders to visit people. One morning, after searching the entire campground for him to no avail, I finally decided he was probably visiting again. Sure enough. He was having coffee with the Grandparents of two kids across the way from our cabin, as the grandkids slept. They were so charmed by George, that, he was promptly invited for breakfast, where, they made him pancakes and bacon. He made his rounds, not unlike at home, and already has a job lined up in ten years. Because: George. That's why.


     It was just a nice week. The same people come every year, so, it's sort of becoming a reunion at this point. The kids love it, and, we are already re-booked for next year.




     On to the appliances. 6.5 years ago, shortly after I had George, as nursing school graduation was fast approaching, and the washer was on it's last legs, and the refrigerator was ridiculously small, I decided we should go buy new appliances. There was an income tax credit for anyone who switched to Energy Star appliances that year, as well as some incredible rebates. I managed to score a new washer, dryer, dishwasher and refrigerator for an incredible price, after all the rebates and tax credits were accounted for. I was absolutely smugly proud of my brains and savings at the time. And, all this was purchased with all four of the children - including a weeks old George in tow, in February, thru the snow, and with less than enthusiastic sales associates at Lowes. The delivery people were even worse than the sales associates, and all clearly hated their jobs. Also, somehow my refrigerator was lost in transit, and we waited forever for it. But, I saved lots of money, right?


     Within 1 year and 2 months, (two months after the warranty ran out), the dishwasher was dead.


     After 5 years of constant fighting with it, the washer died.


     It made it to 6.5 years, but, now the dryer is dead, too. I pick up the new one tomorrow after work.
I was hoping to just fix it (again), but, the Bearded Repair Man has announced it is irreparable. So, in full house/van cleaning regalia, including my hair up in a brightly colored handkerchief and sticking out in a million different directions, I grudgingly hopped into the van to go get a new dryer. The clothing situation is dire, currently. I don't have time to mess with this anymore.
     To their credit, the Sears sales associates are a lot nicer than the Lowes people were. Since we seem to be becoming regular customers and all that... even WITH the insane clothes and hair-do, they were very nice. I asked them to show me a large capacity dryer. There were precisely two of them available. One of which happened to be the match to my washer. I have found that, to have large capacity, to accommodate large families, one must also have a paycheck of large capacities. Because those appliances are way more expensive than the reasonably priced appliances for smaller needs. (By the way. I do not currently possess large capacity paychecks...)  So, tomorrow, I will put all the seats in the minivan down, and haul another appliance home. As much as I was anti mini van in the beginning, I have to say, it has proven invaluable since I have owned it. There. I admitted it. I kind of like the van.


     Till next time! 


    

Busy Days Update

     "You people in Western New York are never happy unless the temperature is 75 degrees. No higher, no lower!" A patient that normally resides in Florida informed me last week.
     I don't think he is too far off the mark, either.


     That being said, it's been hotter than we are used to around here lately. Our lawns are burned brown, our flowers are wilted, the fields and farmers are all in despair. Water levels are low, creeks are dried up, and everyone pretty much talks constantly about how worrisome this has become. A week of constant steady rain would not be unwelcome.


     Due to the temps, I have taken the kids to the local town pool as often as I have been able lately. Saturday afternoon, after a morning of inflicting the child abuse/slave labor of blueberry picking onto my children, I took the boys swimming. The girls had other things to do. We no sooner arrived at the pool, when George began to beg.


     "Mama? Can I swim in the deep end?"


     "No. I don't think so. I just don't know if you're ready..."


     "I do it at the school pool, when Kaila takes us, and I can swim to the bottom of the deep end there!"


     "I know. But, I just worry you are going to push too hard and then drown because you have zero fear."


     "Mama. Watch." And with that, he hoisted himself out of the shallow end, marched over to the deep end and jumped right in while I tried not to shriek. The lifeguards merely looked bored. George then proceeded to swim across the pool back and forth, and then swim down to the bottom.


     "Okay. Fine. You can swim in the deep end."


     On Sunday, I took the entire family to the pool, after a morning of more child abuse/slave labor of house work and grocery shopping. George jumped into the deep end, but, after about two minutes was not happy with just swimming in the deep end. Joe has been working on perfecting a deep dive and a shallow dive, to earn Scout badges. Lexi, who is half mermaid, loves to dive for the sheer joy of it. My niece and nephew were there, both diving as well.
     After a few cannon balls and running jumps into the pool, George began to watch the older kids carefully. Lexi gave him a few tips, and, within five minutes, George was diving just as well as the rest of them. There was absolutely no practice, no hesitation, no teaching - he just dove right in.


     This is not unlike when he learned to ride a bike when he was 3, and was jumping ramps by the end of the first day on two wheels.


     After I took the boys swimming on Saturday, everyone pretty much had things to do, except Joe and I. So, I decided to take Joe to a local county fair that I had never gone to before. We arrived to the fair in no time, and paid to get in.


     "Joe! The demolition derby is tonight! Do you want to go take a look?"


     "No. That is very dangerous."


     "Well, I suppose it is a little dangerous for the drivers, but, we can just look for a few minutes?"


     "No. It makes me very uncomfortable."


     "Well, let's see what else is here. Do you want to ride the rides?"

     "No, I don't think so."


     "There's bumper cars..."


     "Okay. We can do bumper cars." he agreed. So, he did the bumper cars. And the slide. And that's about it.


     "No rides, Joe?"


     "Mom. I am a boy going thru puberty. My body is confused enough, without throwing it up into the air and spinning it around at high speeds. I am not going on any rides."


     "Okay. You make an interesting observation. Better safe than sorry."


     Joe wasn't interested in the out buildings, or the animals, or the displays. The more we walked, the closer we came to the demolition derby.


     "Mom! What are they using? Monster Trucks? What kind of vehicles do they do these things with?"


     "Just regular old cars that are pretty much junk, but somebody was able to make them run enough to do this. The participants know they are all headed to the junk yard after getting all beat up at this derby."


     "Why are they so loud?"


     "I don't think mufflers are a priority. Or even used. Come on, let's go over and just take a peak!"


     "This is not safe. I am not comfortable with this."


     "Joe! It's fine, come look."


     "Mom! Look at this! These walls are not very thick! Or high! At any point, a car could come through the walls. Or over the walls. Anybody could die or get hurt. And what is the point of going really fast in a car to deliberately smash into other people? Did you know if you do that on the outside, people go to jail, or the get hurt and go to the  hospital, or go to court??? Why would anybody think this is a good idea?! Just LOOK at these walls! Mom. Look. The stands are really close to the track. What if parts go flying into the crowd? This is not responsible. This is unsafe."


     Wouldn't you know it. At that very moment, the entire thing was paused, because they had to get Emergency Personnel involved because of some emergency. I couldn't tell if the emergency was in the stands, or on the track, because Joe had just seen his entire argument confirmed, and refused to watch any longer. This is what happens when you take a very literal and very smart and very serious and very articulate boy to the fair.
     Joe did have a good time though. Because Joe LOVES Fair food. He ate pretty much everything.


      Honestly, I love looking at the world through his perspective, and I love conversations with him. It can be serious theories about space or weather, or, it can be a full blown argument over super heroes. It's never dull. We have surpassed myself googling things for him, to, just handing him my phone to look things up. (The iPad has been hidden away indefinitely. The kids would sit with it all day and half the night if they could. I have seen way more outside play, with the disappearance of electronics.)




     Kaila has had an ongoing argument with the cable company. Our wifi never seems to work well. Since Kaila is the biggest wifi consumer in the household, with her phone, she tends to notice it the most. Kaila has never shown the slightest hesitation to whip out her phone and call to complain about things when she is not happy, and the cable company is no exception. She is literally on a first name basis with someone from the cable company named Julie, who has an Indian accent. Anyhow, Apparently the wifi was not working again yesterday, after Kaila had just spent babysitting money renting movies off the Roku. This was completely the last straw for Kaila, who then dialed up the cable company again and informed them that this was unacceptable service, and something needed to be done once and for all, because it is absolutely ridiculous that a teenage girl who is on her phone all the time should have the cable company listed as her number five most called number. At which she was coldly and rudely informed that the cable company does their best. To which she snapped back "Sweety. Obviously your best is not good enough." at which the poor guy on the other end (Julie was not in, evidently.) scheduled a technician to come to the house today. And that an 18 year old adult would need to be present. Kaila haughtily agreed to this. She then hung up  from the cable company and got in touch with the next door neighbor and asked her to please be the adult on the premises when the cable company arrived.
     After setting everything up to her satisfaction, she informed me of all this via text. While I was at work. In Buffalo. Surrounded by colleagues. I am very proud of my calm face as I text back "WHAT???!!!!!!"  Honestly, she has better luck with the cable company than I ever have. Anyhow, the cable company came and went today, to Kaila's satisfaction. The text I received was "He just finished up. I picked a new name for the new box. You're welcome." "O.M.G., what is it???" "Bill Wi the Science Fi"


     And that's about it lately. Mostly our days lately consist of work/cleaning/cooking/laundry. Thank goodness for my cleaning sidekick, Lexi, who will happily put on loud music that can range from today's music (Of which she knows every word of every song) to 50's rock and roll, (as, I am pretty sure she was supposed to be born in the 50's and somebody forgot to send her to whomever she was supposed to be born to, so I got to keep her.) Lexi is the only one of my kids who inherited my clean freak streak, and is happy to help on "clean the house" days, as well as shame her siblings for their slovenly laziness.


     Stay cool and think rainy thoughts!


    
    

Liquor in the Church Parking Lot

     I am finding that death and funerals are exhausting. On  mental, physical and emotional levels. I honestly don't recall the last time I was this worn out.


     This has adversely affected the Million Step Challenge. According to my personal goal, I should have been finished with it by next weekend. While it is doubtful that will happen, I am hoping now for it to be done by the weekend following.
     With that in mind, and at the urging of a friend, I was up at 5am today, to go for a nice stroll.


     I am now even more tired.


     While I am completely exhausted, my children are not! George continues to be George. He bounced onto the bed at 6am Sunday morning demanding a weather report for the day because he wanted to go fishing. (The child is obsessed with fishing.) While he did not get to fish that day, we did decide to go on one of our spur of the moment "Adventures". The kids love it. Every so often, I will look at the piles of chores and obligations, at my kids who are sick of the house and each other, and  yell "C'mon kids! Let's go on an Adventure!" Where we then proceed to meander around the countryside finding different things to do. We never really know where we will end up.
     Kaila suggested it, just as I was thinking it this past weekend. So, I recalled a nifty little out of the way spot, off the beaten path. It has several sets of waterfalls and is this side of magical. We packed a picnic and headed out for the day. I am not even kidding, when I say that we sung every single verse to "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall" on top of our lungs on the way there.


     It was the perfect outlet for the kids. Especially George. George has zero fear, and now accompanies his craziness with hummed or sung circus music, ending with "HEY!" or "Hup hup!!!!" as he flips or balances or does whatever he does that causes my gray hairs. Last week, I was greeted at the front door with "George learned how to do flips today." "Oh? That's nice." "Yes. But, it was AROUND THE BASKETBALL HOOP!!!!!" I still don't know how he managed it. It's 9 feet up in the air.
     He can now balance across the railing of the front porch, do impressive flips around bars of swing sets and playground equipment, swim to the bottom of a 10 foot pool to retrieve diving rings ("But, that hurt my ears, Mom, so, I don't think I will do it again for awhile.") He can stand on the cross bar of his bike, do wheelies, and has created an entire pit of mud complete with rivers, ponds, roads and bridges in the yard. He also got my cousin to give him a ride in her convertible with the top down.


     Anyhow, we played in the waterfalls for awhile, and even found a swimming hole near the base of one set of falls. We finished up with a picnic near the Genesee River, a few miles up the road, and found ice cream on the way home. It was the perfect "escape" day.


     My Dad's funeral was the day before our Adventure. I suppose we have been lucky, really, because my siblings and I have really not had to deal too much with death as a whole. Those of us in the medical field have, of course dealt with it, but, not really very often on a personal level. Our Dad's passing was, I think, pretty traumatic for us all. From the fall down the stairs, to the final breath, it was rough. I wasn't sure how we would all get through the funeral, and everything leading up to it. We arrived at the church - the same church I was married at, and Kaila was baptized at - and once all assembled, one of my brothers whipped out tiny bottles of liquor and handed one to each of us. You know, those sample bottles you can find at the check out of all liquor stores? "Oh my Gosh, Ben! Liquor in the church parking lot??!!!!" was my first reaction.
     It was the best idea ever. We all stood in the ever present "Fisher Circle" and toasted Dad before heading in. It was the perfect thing to brace ourselves for a funeral we all wanted to be done with. Anyhow, I think the grieving process is normal and natural. I just think that I never really experienced it to it's fullest extent before now. I suppose you can't understand it, until you experience it.


     Poor Joe arrived home from Boy Scout Camp at 10 pm the night before the funeral. He had spent a week at the Camp on Chautauqua Lake, about an hour from home. He informed me that he had only showered once the entire time he was there - the day he arrived. It was announced that he did not need to shower, because he had been in the lake most of the time. He was hustled into the shower at home and sent off to bed in short order,  because we all had to be up early the next day. Once at the church, Joe became self appointed door holder. I was so preoccupied, that I really wasn't paying attention.
     About halfway through the funeral, one of my brothers tapped me on the shoulder and whispered "Can you have George head back there and close the doors? I can't hear over the traffic." Off George went. He was gone. And gone. And gone. And gone.
     Minutes later, he was back "Mama?" he whispered "What doors do I need to close?" I told him the ones that were open to the outside. And he was off again. I sat in absolute stillness, looking strait ahead, as I heard the unmistakable sounds of whispered arguing and scuffling taking place in the back of the church. George's absence was lengthy, and something was definitely happing behind me someplace. However, I was at the front of the church at my Father's funeral, and I did not dare to turn around. With eyes closed, I listened as the muffled noises continued. Eventually, George reappeared beside me. "Mama?" he whispered angrily, "It was the back doors to the outside that were supposed to be closed, right?" "Yes." "Joe wouldn't let me. He was still holding them open!!" "What?? He was still back there  holding the doors open???" I whispered back in shock. Peaking over, I saw a very upset Joe sliding into the other end of the church pew. I had no idea that he had not even been with us for nearly half of the service. Biting back an inappropriate snicker at my boys, we managed to get through the rest of the service without further incident. Peppered by "Mama? How many songs do we have left before the end?" from George.


     Now, we are back to getting life back to normal. I say this while thinking about Kaila's hair. She has been begging for sometime for permission to have her hair dyed an auburn color. I finally acquiesced yesterday, and hauled her in to my sister's salon. Four hours later, and my kid looks exactly like the Little Mermaid. It just about killed me to let Kaila have her long thick beautiful hair dyed. I felt very old and very parental as I thought of the nine million reasons why she shouldn't do it. But, it turned out beautiful, and she is thrilled, and my sister is amazing at what she does. Also, red hair dye tends to fade pretty quickly...
     Also with life back to normal, canning/freezing season is here! So far I have canned strawberry jam, and frozen some peas. I intend to exploit the child laborers at home and drag them to the blueberry fields in short order, so I can freeze blueberries and make blueberry jam next. I will hate every moment of it, but, I do love the finished product! Also, I think I am sufficiently over the peach trauma from a few years ago, to give peach preserves another try. I dunno. We'll see what time and energy allow.


     That's life in a nutshell around here. I promise, the next post will be so much happier!


    

Texts From Dad

     My Dad passed away Friday. He fell down a full flight of stairs about a week before his death. During the fall, he broke several ribs and, fractured his neck. He has had declining health for some time now, and the fall was pretty much more than his body could handle.
     It was a long and terrible week, as we watched him slowly fade away.


     It was hard to walk up the stairs he had fallen down, to look through all his pictures, so that we could put them together for the memorial service, planned for Saturday.


     Something that more than one of my siblings mentioned, and that I think we will all miss, are the texts from Dad.
      Dad was 85 years old. He did not actually start having kids until I came along when he was in his mid forties. Dad worked the swing shift until he retired from his Federal job as a Meteorologist in 1994. I did not appreciate how hard it must have been to have 8 kids and work swing shift - a week of days, a week of evenings and a week of nights - until I grew up and had only half that amount of kids, and attempted to work multiple jobs at crazy hours over the years. He was an older Dad, but, he managed to keep up with his pack of crazy kids.
     Dad would bring a book, and sit patiently under a tree while we would play for hours every summer at the town pool. He was probably thankful for the break, actually. He sat through my brothers' baseball games, played catch with them for hours, and, though quiet, always seemed to be wherever we all were when something of note was happening. Something that I don't think I realized as much, until we were going through pictures over the weekend. Piles of pictures from every memorable event in our lives. He was pretty laid back, and his refrain over the years of growing up was always "Play nice. Just play nice." Mostly he just wanted to read. He read everything. When learning how to drive, Dad would calmly get into the passenger seat of the car, book in hand,  I would start up the car, drive as long as I liked, and Dad would just sit there and read. (By the way, I passed my road test the first time I took it.)
     His great passions were airplanes and all things weather. His years in the Air Force were often fondly spoken of. He loved to go to Air Shows with my brothers.

     What we all sort of smiled over though, was Dad's texts. He had a very basic cell phone that flipped open. It was one of those phones that needed to have the keys pushed multiple times, in order to spell anything.
     We decided he needed a tablet, so he could follow us all on Facebook, so, for his 85th birthday this year, one of my brothers gifted him with one. He tried. He really did, but, he just couldn't figure it out no matter how hard he tried, how to use it. He preferred to stick with his cell phone. Some gems from over the last two years:


"What did the digital clock say to the grandfather clock? Look grandpa, no hands! - Dad"


"President Roosevelt's daughter Alice said her goal in life was to empty what was full, fill what was empty and scratch what itches. -Dad"


"Guy looking for a parking spot at the mall says 'God, get me a parking spot and I will go to church every Sunday.' then see's a spot and says 'Never mind, God, I found one.' - Dad"


"From Groucho Marks 'Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it everywhere, diagnosing it incorrectly and applying the wrong remedies.' -Dad"


"What did yes say to no? Answer: Maybe - Dad"


"John Ruskin said 'Sunshine is delicious rain is refreshing, wind races up, snow is exhilarating. There is no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather' - Dad"


"How to put together a talented group: You find clever people, you provide them with resources, you protect them from nonsense then you get the hell out of the way. - Dad"


"Just read that one of the losers in the 1966 Primary said 'The people have spoken. The Bastards.'         isn't that great? - Dad"


"Dashiff Hammett said 'The problem with putting two and two together is that sometimes you get four and sometimes you get twenty two.' - Dad"


"Today's Moon is called a Strawberry Moon because it's occurring on the Summer Solstice. The last time was 1967, the next time is 2062. -Dad"


"Here are the words to 'Taps' 'Day is done. Gone the sun from the lake, from the hills, from the sky. All is well, safely rest, God is nigh.' - Dad"



     Well, Dad. I don't suppose I could have put it any better than that. Fly High, Airman.






     

Squirrel!

     Last Day of School!


     I have never been so happy. We were pretty ready to be finished.


     It did end with a break up. The little girl who requested that Joe be her Valentine, and then announced they were dating, apparently broke up with him. This was discovered by Lexi, who leaned out her classroom window and asked the Jezebel in question if she knew where Joe was. The girl informed Lexi that she did not know, because she had broken up with him. Lexi searched out her little brother, and attacked him with a hug, telling him how sorry she was. Joe shoved her off and asked why the heck she was sorry, and Lexi burst out "Because Soandso broke up with you!!" at which Joe replied "She did?"


     "She didn't tell you?!"


     "No. This is the first I have heard about it."


     By the time the story trickled down to me, it was to inform me that Joe had decided the best way to deal with it, was to have a bonfire, and start it with all mementos related to the girl in question. Who, by the way, has decided that she is now back to dating the boy that she dumped to announce she was dating Joe.
     Joe happily burned all love letters written by this girl, while I breathed in relief that she was not going to be coming around and hanging on my (entirely too young) kid anymore.


     Joe was hanging around last night while I made dinner. The end of the story went as such: Yesterday  He and this girl ended up sitting next to each other for something or other. She mentioned that she was now back to her previous flame. Joe calmly informed her that all her love letters made lovely fire starter, and he enjoyed watching them burn. She became mad, and Joe told her to never even think about dating him again, because he would never take her back.
     I told Joe that I was kind of happy, because, honestly he is too young for these things, and next time around, we are just going to tell girls that his Mama said "NO." until he is much older, thankyouverymuch.


     Joe responded with "By the way, what am I taking to school for my special snack tomorrow?"


     "WHAT?? WHAT "Special Snack"?!" And, thus began an entirely different tangent.


     I went to get my hair done by my sister last night. It was getting pretty bad, and needed her help. I walked into her salon, and she said "What? No kids with you?"


     "Joe is figuring out his new telescope, Lexi and Kaila were doing something or other, and I don't know if George lives with us anymore, truthfully."

     "Oh. Run off with the wolves, did he?"


     "That is a possibility. I rarely see him anymore. The neighbors down the street have a pool. He spends most of his time at their house now. I think that may have adopted him at this point."


     "Does he eat at your house?"


     "I don't even know. Sometimes, he and his friend come through the house, raid the fruit bowl, and leave again. The fruit bowl is still pretty full, though, so, he could have eaten the wolf pack he ran off with, for all I know. Sometimes I think I see him, and I think he has blonde hair now. And, I see superhero underwear in the laundry, so, he presumably comes home at least for clean underwear sometimes."


     We sat down and had a family meeting of sorts last night. George was given a two hour limit to his off-site social activities, He responded with "I would probably stay home more if we got a pool, Mom."
The kids were informed that there was absolutely no reason for them to spend the summer as they did last year - lying around the house in various stages of pajamas and watching TV until shortly before the parental return from work. They were told that there were expectations, and that there were chores and responsibilities. They were all pretty stuck on the possibility of a pool though.


     "It would be great exercise."


     "We would be outside more."


     "Pool parties!"


     "It would be so perfect!"


     "We wouldn't have to drive all the way to Machias to use the town pool!"


     "We NEED a pool!"


Bearded Man said "NO. I am not putting up a pool. I am not getting the ground under it ready. I am not dealing with the installation. That isn't even counting the chemicals, PH balance testing, vacuuming, cleaning. NO."


     "Well. Here's an option. You can all fight it over, and hash it out amongst yourselves. WHAT IF, We use next year's vacation money, to put in a pool, and have it installed. That would mean NO vacation to Black Lake, or wherever we decide to go" (I have been pushing for Maine for years now.) "IF you kids are willing to trade off, and Bearded Man is okay with someone else installing it, then, I would be willing. Discuss this at your leisure, and let me know."


     "KID MEETING IN THE FAMILY ROOM!!!!" they all shouted, and ran off with Bearded Man hustling right behind them. He was sent back when they pointed out that, though he is regarded as one of the kids sometimes, this was not one of them, so please leave the meeting. A pool was voted down 3-1, and, after the probable cost of braces for Kaila, and possibly Joe next year, we will probably book the same vacation again.


     The Million Step Challenge continues. This week, I surpassed the halfway point. Also this week, my sister in law, Deanna, invited me into a "Workweek Hustle" challenge for the week. I will never ever again agree to two simultaneous challenges at the same time. At this point, I am walking at every possible moment, including and right up until bed time. Turbo seems to love the late evening walks, but, I am kind of tired.
     Thrown into the Million Step Challenge was a NEW twist - there are 27 large squirrel sculptures around Olean, where I work. They are scattered all over the place, and each one has a different theme. We have until June 30, to get a selfie with each squirrel. I figure I will have a life again sometime toward the end of July. So far: I have accomplished ONE selfie. and it isn't even the squirrel right outside the front door of the clinic where I work.
    
    Oh, while I am at it - Christmas has been saved this year.


    We have this yearly tradition. Every year, on "get the Christmas Tree Day" we go to a local Pizza Hut, where, some Boy Scouts (Not our troop) sell Christmas Trees. We eat Pizza for lunch, and then we stroll outside at a nice reasonable distance with minimal inconvenience, and select a tree. The Boy Scouts then wrap it up into a tidy bundle and secure it to the top of my vehicle. It's probably the kids' favorite Christmas tradition.
    
     (Before we think Moriah is a princess here, you need to know about previous attempts at the frozen tundra of hiking  through and picking  out then cutting down trees. The last time we tried this, I was less than a month away from having George, I had bartended a big/loud/very late Christmas party the night before, I was in nursing school, I was exhausted, and I had to hike all over the place. We froze, kids cried, Kaila had a friend with her, who lost her "favorite scarf EVER!" someplace, so we had to RE-hike the whole thing.
     Another year, I somehow ended up bouncing along, FREEZING in the back of Bearded Man's pick up truck, 7 months pregnant with Lexi, while we drove to the lot. I still cannot recall his reasoning for myself being in the back of the truck.
     We have NEVER had a good experience in "Cut your own" tree lots, and I avoid them at all cost. While trying not to feel all guilty as my friends post happy perfect family pictures of themselves at all the local tree lots, with trees their husbands all just cut down. None of them are ever frozen, pregnant, angry or hostile.)


     Anyhow, back on track here, last Christmas, the Boy Scouts announced that they probably wouldn't be selling trees at Pizza Hut anymore. Or, anywhere, for that matter.
     We were all horrified by this news, and probably Christmas would be ruined forever now, because it just wouldn't be the same anywhere else. This is tradition!!!!! Every time we drove past Pizza Hut, we mourned a little more.
     Well. There was a Christmas Miracle. I spoke to the Mother of one of those Scouts, whose husband is a scout something or other (helper? Leader? Saver of Christmas??? I don't really know.) and he announced that the Scouts will, in fact, be selling trees at Pizza Hut this year.
     So, Christmas is saved! Glad Tidings and stuff.


     I think that is it. I need to run down town and find a color map of all the Olean Squirrel Sculpture locations, so I can run around town taking selfies.






    


    
    

PS: Another Hurried Blog, to go with Yesterday's Hurried Blog

     After yesterday's hurried Blog (Well. In all fairness, they all are. Thus the dreadful mistakes I always find and then cringe at.) I remembered all the things I had meant to mention. So, today; another (hurried) Blog.


     Last and this  week were termed "Hell Week" mostly because we are nearing the end of the school year and baseball season. Pretty much, we have something going on all the time right now. Kids are going in every single direction. It's insanity.


     Anyhow I took two days off last week, to accommodate a field trip to Niagara Falls, a Kindergarten Graduation, a Sixth Grade Moving up Celebration (For those not familier with our schools in Franklinville, Pre-K thru 6th grade is in one school, and 7-12 is in the big school across the road. Lexi is heading into the big school in September.) and a mishmash of other things.


      In the middle of the recent craziness, there was a trip to the local ER with Kaila. Kaila has been complaining of bone and joint pain for some time now. The pediatrician really has not done much about it. While at school recently, she was walking along, and suddenly had mega bone pain in her lower legs. She slowed down, and the kid next to her turned around to comment about it, and ended up yelling "HOLY SHIT, KAILA! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR FACE??!!!!" because, Kaila's nose suddenly erupted and blood was pouring out both nostrils. A trip to the nurse's office found that the blood would just not stop. So, off to the ER we went. Where, they managed to stop the bleeding, and sent her home again.
     In addition to the bone pain, Kaila has found that the palms of her hands will suddenly become unbearably hot. When we walk together, and are up in the local cemetery, she will stop and put her hands on the granite, to try to cool them off.
     Some research suggested (what I have been saying all along!!!) that, there are some rheumatoid issues here.
     Other research indicated that she is probably a witch, and needs to learn to harness the powers of her burning hands for healing purposes.
     Because of this, I have advised her to please stop touching the grave stones with her burning hands. Possibly, she should just stay out of the cemetery altogether, actually.  Also, every time I have a headache, I have been instructing her to please touch my head with her burning hands. It hasn't worked yet, but, I think she just needs to work on it.
     Meanwhile, on the off chance that she is not a witch, I should probably find another doctor for her.


      Lexi's 6th Grade Moving Up Celebration has come and gone. The afternoon of the Celebration, one of Lexi's friends wandered over.


     "Hi, Mrs. Dick." she said miserably.


     "Well hello! What's up?"

     "I am escaping my mother."


     "Oh no! What's going on?"


     "She wants me to wear a polo shirt tonight. It's always polo shirts! All the time! I hate polo shirts, and I don't want to wear one to the dance after the moving up thing!"


At this, Lexi was beside herself.


     "WHAT????  This is unacceptable! And not okay! You are a twelve year old! How does your mother ever expect you to become an independent woman, if she is still trying to dress you when you are TWELVE?! You are an intelligent person, who is capable of deciding what to wear to your own dance! If you don't want to wear a polo shirt, then, you should NOT. you need to tell her you will wear a shirt that YOU pick out! I cannot believe this!!!!!"


     "Lexi." I cut in to the tirade, "What do you plan to wear tonight?"


     "I don't know yet. I will think of something."


     Twenty minutes before it was time to go, Lexi began to work on her outfit. She took an old dress and cut off the bodice, added buttons to the back, making it into a full skirt, threw on a coordinating t-shirt, whipped up a matching bow for her hair, and was ready to go.
     No one will ever have the same outfit as Lexi. She looked amazing.


     Joe has managed to survive a crazy baseball season/scout season/school winding down, and, the class field trip to Niagara Falls. Along with a recent scout camp out for a weekend (during which it rained the entire time, and they spent most of the time trying to keep the campfire going) and several sleepovers with a friend of his.
     Next week, after his Scout moving up, at which time  he will be a Boy Scout and no longer a Weeblo, Joe will have a break. School is nearly over, baseball is nearly over, and, except for a week at Boy Scout Camp in July, Scouts will be over until school begins again. I think he needs the break. He hasn't had the time or energy to correct anything, ask questions, or obsess over any particular subject. Except  telescopes. It is all he wants for his upcoming Birthday. He has certain requirements for his telescope, and has researched them exhaustively. I suppose this weekend, Joe, me, and Amazon will have to get together and order him a telescope. Also, he wants a lemon cake, shaped like the sun, with lemon cupcakes making sun rays for his birthday. Because, when you stop and think about it, The Boy Wonder is only going to be 11.


     George. George is still George is still George. This year, he hasn't spent as much time on his bike as most years. I mentioned it the other day and his response was "Well. I decided that I would do the bike every other year, so you don't have to keep being scared all the time. This year is my safe year." While that sounds sweet, this was coming from the kid who wandered home last night with a nasty scrape across his face (something about a tree and the way home from school. I don't even know.) He has scrapes and bruises all over his legs, from his many adventures, and his hair has already lightened to blonde for the summer.
     He graduated from Kindergarten last week. "Mom. I watched you. You are supposed to be happy for me. Why were you crying through the whole thing?"


     "Yeah, Mom" piped in Lexi "What the heck is up with Moms who cry over this stuff? I don't understand these things."

     "I don't either, Lex."


     Anyhow, I have no idea what I am going to write about, once all the craziness that is our lives currently, slows down.


     Till next time!