Oh, for a lie

Riding in the van today, Caden said to me, "Mom, your calves are huge!" Split second of horror. But then I recovered quickly as I'm not really self-conscious about my calves. Really, there are other body parts way farther up on the list of imperfection.
So I said, "What do you mean?" as I peered down at them. Then Caden said, "No, I mean the part that is spreading on the seat."

OH. Longer horror.

I threw some words over my shoulder about saying only kind things, wondering why we've tried to teach truthfulness to the children. Really.

I expect an apology...

Some day. It might be 25 or 30 years from now, but I'll be waiting. I've recently heard from both of my kids, at different times, statements such as "Why do I have to do everything?", and "Why am I the only person who has to clean up?".

OH. MY.
I must confess that one day I did go on a bit of a rant about all the things I do, which I suppose every mother does at some point when she is told this by her small child who has no idea how much work is involved in any adult life. I even brought out the "would you like to see what it would really be like for you to do everything?"
I guess I'll just take this time to apologize to my own mother as I remember feeling miffed when she asked me to pick up my underwear any number of times in the bathroom when I felt she could've easily done it too. So Mom, I'm sorry for complaining about the comparatively minuscule tasks I was asked to do. I wish I could go back to that 'to do' list now.
I know eventually they'll come to the realization that they have it pretty good right now. Its just a long wait.

All for a green band

Last week in Ohio, we went as a family to a new pool complete with lazy river, high dive, several slides, etc. Kids under a certain height had to pass a swim test and get a green wrist band to be allowed to use the dives and slides. My niece, Gwen, was the first to decide she wanted to take the test. So we went over to watch and cheer her on. One had to swim 2 lengths of the pool and tread water for a minute. I didn't really think either of my kids could do it, but I figured I'd let Caden try. Though it was a very long swim, both Gwen and Caden did it, exhausted by the end. The whole time they were swimming, Alyssa was telling me she was next. I didn't know what to do as I was positive she couldn't do it. I told her she wasn't big enough, and she started wailing. Finally, I realized that I had to let her try. So a couple minutes later when the lifeguard was ready, my tiny girl jumped in and started swimming. Alyssa still swims mostly vertically, so she does not move fast. In fact sometimes it seemed she was barely moving. At long last she made it to the end and held on for a moment, gasping for breath. We looked together towards the other end. To me, it seemed a mile away. But she pushed off hard and started her agonizing journey back. Every few strokes she'd bring her head up and gasp "My arms hurt, my legs hurt!" and then she would go back under. I told her several times that she could stop if she wanted to, but she was determined. She finally made it all the way to the end. (Thankfully, the merciful lifeguard didn't make her tread water.) Several others were watching her by this time, and she was heartily congratulated by her onlookers. She took some deep breaths and stood on her wobbly little legs and gave me an enormous grin.

Really, who was I to think she couldn't do it?

The Day Has Come

After several declarative statements like "I'm just not made for biking!", things clicked!

Westhill Times

The other night, I heard, for the first time this summer, the cicadas. When I hear that sound, I'm instantly taken back through time to my back porch in the house I grew up in on Westhill Boulevard. I can remember hearing the rise and fall of the cicadas from different areas of the back yard, like they were having a sing-off. That is the sound of summer to me.
That thought led into other childhood summertime thoughts. Roasting dinner over our fire circle in the back woods, swinging on my swing set so high that the right support always came off the ground, playing in my playhouse during the day, but never at night as my friends and I always knew some vagabond slept in it at night. Walking back through our woods, swinging on grapevines, all the way to the little pond. Picking sour cherries out of my brother Mark's cherry tree, and trying to figure out what to do with all of them. Having lunch on a blanket in the sun. Laying on the porch reading, for our quiet time after lunch every day. Taking 3 miles walks with my mom, and our dog, Rusty. Riding my bike to the feared swimming lessons. Mark's tree house building, and going with him to collect paper route money. And sometimes he would take me to Lehman's at the end of the street for a treat.

Bernadette Shenadingo. Laying in the big bedroom I shared with Lynne, and trying to fall asleep in the heat. Each of our beds with a blue gingham cat bed on it. Car trips out west, with me curled up on the floor, Mark and Lynne having convinced me it was the best spot. Reading Archie comic books while driving through Monument Valley, AZ. Dad tearing up at the sight of a majestic mountain, a trait he's passed on to me. Making breakfast at Huntington Beach or getting ice cream there at night. After dinner discussions about life, and who has to load the dishwasher tonight? Fireworks, picnics, tennis, and walks at Clague park. Bringing home the orphaned baby duck and then releasing it when it was older (and fighting about what it should be named). Practicing piano. Mom typing in the den. Hearing my Dad's desk chair squeak. Using the water pic. Lost and Tost (having to pay mom a quarter to get our things back that we didn't clean up).
Lynne's "Scott voice", and her sudden interest in the sports page when they started dating. Peering out the window to see what he was wearing when he came to pick her up, and then running to tell her so she could plan accordingly. Mark's many creatures, listening to Petra with him, his constant wrist flexing, and being awakened to Reveille when he was feeling impish. Walking to a parade at the end of the street.
I could go on. Dancing for my grandma at Christmastime, roasting hot dogs in the fireplace, trying to finish my dinner by a certain time with my Dad's watch next to me. Discussions about when that tree will fall down in the front yard. Jumping into leaf piles in the ditch.
I am thankful for a wonderful childhood. I hope my children will have equally great memories.

Aquarium!

Touching sharks!

Madelyn takes a moment to recenter

showing off that missing tooth!

Help, its got me!

feeding the rays...yay, dead fish!

Caden isn't so gung-ho about dead fish between his fingers.

So fun to be with big cousin Caleb!

So hard to keep these girls in line.

We had great fun with the partial Liptak clan!

Y'all come back, now, ya hear?