Happy Birthday (Last Week)

Lauren was pretty disgusted last when she woke up and realized that Ryan had to go to work on his birthday. I explained to her that as you get older, birthdays aren’t the holidays they once were. Sydney sagely nodded in agreement.

I remember my own birthdays growing up. My mom (queen of all partying) let us run wild with celebration that day. We woke up to a sign announcing our day. We had parties tailored especially to us and finished up with a dinner and dessert of our choosing. It was wonderful. It was fabulous. And for that day, it was all about the birthday kid.

Somewhere amidst work and kids and responsibility that magic was lost. For Ryan his day consisted of 8+ hours of working at the shop, followed by coaching 7th grade football and then officiating a freshman football game. He was able to squeeze in his favorite meal (tortilla soup) that we made for him.  He didn't even want a cake.  (So Lauren and I bought some cupcakes and ate most of them...)

I wish I could have a given him a holiday.  He certainly deserves it.  For nearly nineteen years now, he has worked and sacrificed so that our family can have the things that we need.  But more than that, he has always been such a steady and secure force in my life.  I think back to the evening of our wedding reception.  Throughout the night, his hand was on the small of my back, supporting and strengthening me.  Since then, in good times and bad, he has kept his hands there.  Always ready to catch me if I stumble. 

If that doesn't deserve a holiday, I don't know what does.  Happy Birthday!





Pine Cone Wreaths

I was kind of a boring mom this summer.  So a few days before school started, I knew that I had better do something to ease my guilty mind.  It started with the final (probably the only) trip of the vacation.  Ryan, Lauren and I headed to Alpine to fulfill Lauren's life long desire to visit the Lollipop Shop.  After buying fudge, suckers and ice cream, we searched for pine cones.



When we got home, we cut the pine cones in half to reveal the "flower" inside.

The girls then painted them in bright colors for Lauren...

And daisies for me.

Since Walmart's remodel, it took a little longer than I planned to find the grapevine wreaths that we needed to finish the project.  In fact, it took until this weekend when I was finally able to go to a Michael's in the Valley.

A little small gauge wire, a couple extra hours, and we were done.

* In honor of truth and recognizing sources, I found this idea in Woman's Day or Family Circle magazine almost twenty years ago.  All I can be credited for is having a pretty good memory and the adorable wreath model.

A Visual Analogy

Words can't fully express how much I love these two pictures.  The truth is, I get a little teary just looking at them.  The first was taken during an All-Star tournament when Syd was eleven years old.  The second was taken four years later, just after Sydney turned fifteen.

I look at this one and I see a strong-willed, determined and competitive little girl.  I see a girl who wasn't exactly sure what she should do, but she knew she wanted the ball in her hands.  She was a little timid and a little nervous, but open to learning everything she could.  Winning and losing were the markers of success, yet she was willing to take on that responsibility.

Here, I see a girl who knows exactly what to do with the ball in her hands.  Still determined and competitive, she knows that wins and losses aren't the only measure of a player or a girl.  While she is still learning, she is also becoming a teacher and a leader. It's a responsibility she thrives on.  She's found that hard work, faith and strength can overcome fear and uncertainty.   She's ready to leap into every adventure ahead.

Better than Doing Dishes

This evening I have been creatively avoiding the kitchen.  In fact, I have watched 1/2 of the Cowboy/Redskin game as well as "Hannah Montana Forever" in a ploy to stay away from washing dishes.   The next step was the computer where I found these long lost pictures.

Those cheeks and those dimples should just be bottled up as pure happiness.  Which leads me to the question.  What in the world was I thinking when I let this child grow up! 

That thought should keep me busy for the rest of the evening...

Update

Ryan heard from the doctor today.  Thankfully, there isn't any apparent problem with his hip.  What a relief!  It doesn't explain why it hurts so badly, but luckily it seems to be slowly healing. 

Unfortunately for Ryan, it lets me tell a funny story about the situation.

Ryan coaches the 7th grade football team.  He loves (most) every  minute of it.  He loves to see their eyes light up when they finally "get it".  The boys, in turn, (mostly) love him.  Many former players credit Ryan for giving them a deeper understanding and knowledge of the game.  But still, he is dealing with 12 and 13 year old boys.  They are not exactly known for their tact or compassion...

Last week, the boys were running a play, probably a sweep, that took them right past the spot where Ryan was standing.  With his bad hip, there was just no way he could get out of the way.  He got clipped and fell straight down, face first.  I happened to be walking out of my classroom at the time and my heart stopped for an instant, fearing the worst.  For a delayed moment, no one moved.  Ryan lay frozen and the boys stood still.  Then I heard the call, "Old man down!  Old man down!" as they rushed to his side. 

Knowing 7th graders, it was probably to point and laugh.  I didn't stick around, but I sure hope he made them run after that...

Just a State of Mind

I've always considered age to be a state of mind.  Ryan seems to have been born old.  By the time he was twenty-two he was all ready feeling sixty or so.  Me, I have finally broken out of my twenties.  But only just barely.  No amount of wrinkles or gray hair have been able to force me to face the reality that time is swiftly passing us by.  In fact, I even giggle to myself that with our differing views of aging, pretty soon we are going to have a May-December romance! 

However, Ryan recently sat me down to discuss the effects that age are having.  For the past six weeks he has been seriously hampered by pain in his hip.  Pain is not unusual for Ryan.  I think he lives with some every day.  So when he is worried, I know it is considerable.  When he actually breaks down and goes to the doctor, then things are pretty severe.  And when he finally wants to talk about it, well, I know that the situation is significant.

Now, I'm not a stranger to serious, unwanted, or uncomfortable discussions.  Like many of you, I've had to answer the "What's a tampon?" or "How do babies come out?" sorts of questions.  No problem.  By the time I've gone through it with Lauren, I don't even break a sweat.  On top of that, I've had to sit through meetings about students who have been abused or are abusers themselves.  I've talked to kids about cutting themselves, taking drugs, and having sex.  One year I even had to discuss masturbation with a girl in my class.  (OK, I did sweat over that one!)

But none of those shook me like this discussion did.  For the past twenty years I've always seen Ryan as indestructible.  My own personal Superman.  Sure, he has a slight limp, and a tendency to get sinus infections.  But other than that, I've always figured he could make, fix or do anything.  Yet here he was, telling me that he wasn't sure he could keep up that pace any more.

Thankfully, things have improved since then.  Soon he will hear from the doctor.  In the meantime, he's found some pain-killers that are helping.  He's learning to slow down...a little bit.

I'm learning that Superman is overrated.  That kryptonite is real, but not necessarily a bad thing.  Mostly, I'm reminded that I'll take the intelligent, thoughtful, generous, thirty-nine year old I've got now over that muscle-bound twenty-year old any day!

Perspective...and Mosquitos

This evening, the girls really wanted a Pepsi from Brides.  Since that was all they were getting for dinner, I easily agreed.  I sat in the car and watched customers while the girls ran inside.  It seemed that every person pumping gas had spontaneously broken out in some weird tribal dance.  As I watched, they would wave their arms wildly in the air, occasionally beating themselves or their friends in the head.  If a checkbook or purse was available, this became part of the routine, swinging and flinging it to a silent rhythm.   Finally, I realized that they were fighting off a plague of mosquitoes that seems to have descended on St. Johns. 

I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the show.  I even giggled a little as I watched the various techniques for trying to fend off the dang blood suckers.  I seriously considered pulling out my cell phone to record the entertainment.  Only the arrival of Pepsi-wielding girls stopped me and cinematic endeavours. 

Driving home, I continued to smile at the memory.  But then, I remembered what I had been doing all afternoon...fending off my own swarm of mosquitoes.  When repellent didn't work, I had performed my own clapping, twisting and slapping routine.  It wasn't so funny then.  In fact, Sydney, who was playing in a soccer scrimmage had given me a big wave during her game-thinking that my "dance" was an attempt to get her attention.  Who knows how many people were giggling over MY vain attempts to protect my precious blood?

So there you go.  I'd never (and I mean NEVER) be grateful for a mosquito.  But today I was reminded that my actions, experiences and even emotions are the result of my personal perspective.  It may be right, it may be wrong, or it may not even matter.  But I better be willing to hand over my Deep Woods OFF before I start giggling at anyone again.