What George said

 

“Youth is wasted on the young.”

-George Bernard Shaw

 

If I turn my computer off promptly at 2:59 p.m. and walk out my office door, making sure to turn off lights and lock the doors, exactly at 3 p.m., I can be in my car by 3:08 p.m. That means, assuming I don’t hit every single red light and only have to stop once for a school crossing guard on the way, that I can be at our mailbox at 3:22 and queued up in the school pickup line in a good spot by 3:25, give or take a minute. If I’ve hit the mailbox before I get to the boys’ school I can read the mail and check facebook while I wait for them to come outside at 3:39 p.m. On Mondays it’s important for me to be close to the front of the line because we need to run by home, grab snacks and be at piano at 4 p.m. It only takes about seven minutes to get to piano so we should, in theory, have about nine minutes to spare at home. Welcome to the inside of my head and the thoughts that dominate the majority of my days. This is even after giving up my big girl job for this one that’s supposed to be stress-free. Pretty sad, huh?

I had a meeting today and didn’t get to my car until about 3:12, which meant that I skipped the mailbox and went straight to school, leaving me with about 14 minutes of time to fill. When I arrived in the pickup line I saw a class of kids on the playground, which is somewhat out of the norm. Upon closer inspection I saw that it was Thomas’ class. It was a sunny, windy 75 degrees today and they were like ants swarming an anthill. They were up, they were down, they were all around. They were carefree, for sure. Eventually the teacher blew her whistle and I found myself thinking she should be nominated for teacher of the year for knowing to take these kids outside on this day instead of trying to teach them more math. There’s a lifetime for math. Look at me, knowing I have nine spare minutes between school pickup and piano. They’ll get all the practice they need.

After they went inside I found myself with six minutes of free time. I scanned MSN on my phone and made the mistake of reading a story about a new Australian strain of the norovirus that apparently we’re all going to contract and will make us all very sick and it will laugh at Clorox wipes and hand sanitizer. Damn Australians. Then I read that the US Postal Office is on the brink of collapse and that no matter how much they raise postal rates, the USPS has completely tapped out its line of credit with the US Treasury. I’m not really good at math but I think that’s difficult to do and it’s a sad state of affairs and a sad commentary on all of us. I closed out the “news” at that point, because if the entertainment news is that depressing, imagine the real, hard news.

And then it was 3:39. I looked up and saw the school doors open and kids stream out in orderly lines to their designated pickup locations. I watched Thomas walk out with his backpack weighing him down, stuffed with the winter coat he didn’t need on this warm afternoon. He went dutifully to the front of the building to wait for me to pull through the line and for his brother to join him. Just then I looked up and saw him. Andrew leaves the building from a back door near his classroom and walks around to the front to meet his brother. I often wish he was walking a bit faster so he would beat me to the front of the line and we wouldn’t hold up traffic.

Not today. Today he was a sight.  He was racing down the sidewalk apparently just high on this summer day that came to visit in the deep of winter. His backpack was in his left hand, and his coat in his right as he SPRINTED around the building. Both were flying out behind him, kind of like capes, and his shoes were a blur of neon green and silver. He was laughing, as if he was sharing a joke with someone, but he was running all by himself. I would have noticed him even if he didn’t belong to me. He came screeching around the corner on the proverbial two wheels and then he saw me watching him. He stopped short and gave me a big wave. It was the kind of wave that I know he’ll eventually become too self-conscious to offer up on public property so I made sure to wave back. He flashed a million watt smile in return and then ran to meet his brother.

He left me feeling pleased beyond measure that he was feeling so buoyant and wishing that I could, if even for just six minutes, remember how to feel that way too.

Compliment, backhanded

Last night at the dinner table, this compliment was issued - with qualifier - as Thomas asked to be excused.

"Mom, may I be excused? I do not want to eat any more and I don't care if I don't get dessert. I mean, the dinner was good, thank you for fixing it for us, it was really very good but I definitely don't want seconds and I'm finished. But, thanks for trying."

That's high praise from the pickiest kid at the table.

Sweet Child O’ Mine

This kid? Wow. This kid is everything I ever hoped my son would be at nine-years-old and is simultaneously everything that drives me bonkers.

 

He’s smart. He’s smart-mouthed.

He’s funny. He’s a class clown.

He’s confident. He demands the center of attention.

He’s coordinated. He’s quite busy.

He’s curious. He’s relentless.

He loves to have fun. He sometimes likes to have fun at others’ expense.

He knows his own mind. He also knows mine.

The kids have recently discovered dad’s electric guitar. This one’s got just enough of his dad in him that he’s completely obsessed with it…for this week. I walked downstairs last night and found him playing it. Wearing my sunglasses.

This kid. He makes me smile, when I’m not cringing. I just love him.

Postscript

Just when I thought I was as grateful and lucky as a girl can be at Christmas, our Christmas Eve took a left turn and I'm feeling a little tested.

Just to prove I can do this optimistic glass half-full thing, I'm choosing to see the positive in Andrew's stomach bug that arrived just in time for dinner and church.

Given world events in recent weeks I think we have to just be thrilled we have a relatively healthy child who will feel better within a few days. We have a warm house and a washing machine that's efficient and we can always buy more Clorox wipes. And? Mark took one for the team tonight. He stayed home with a sick boy while T and I went to family dinner and church. And? They neither one complained once. They're better men than I am woman.

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.

Small acts = grand gestures

I'm starting my New Year's resolution list today. I know it's actually Christmas Eve, not New Year's Eve, but it seems appropriate to me. In the last 10 days we have been gifted with some small acts of kindness by friends that felt pretty big to me. I resolve, beginning today with the spirit of Christmas top-of-mind, to remember to pay these forward in the coming months...

Last Sunday we had to run by Andrew’s piano teacher’s house to pick-up a piece of music he had left there. He had been working on a jazzy version of Jingle Bells to play in music class on talent day. I was irritated with him for leaving the music at his lesson and hated to bother her on a Sunday night to go retrieve it so I sent him to the door by himself. After being greeted at the door he came out on her porch and waved for me to get out of the car, then disappeared inside. I went to the door and found him at her piano practicing the song. She had insisted he come in to run through it with her. Her four kids were home, Sunday night football was on TV, she had been in the middle of wrapping presents and they were preparing to go out-of-town. Yet. She invited him to practice so she could help him one last time with any rough spots. He was grateful for the practice and I for her time. “It’s no big deal,” she said.

Last Thursday was to have been the kids' last day of school before break, complete with winter parties and talent shows and probably not much learning. Instead, it snowed two inches during the night and someone had a panic attack and called off school for the day. That left the kids disappointed and me a little frustrated. I had taken a vacation day to participate in their school parties but had also banked on a three-hour window in the middle of my day to execute some Santa-type activities that are easier to knock-out when I'm home alone. When that phone call came at 6 a.m. canceling classes it canceled my very selfish hope to have a brief quiet in my home. Later that afternoon (after what turned out to be a really great snow day full of friends and sledding) a dear friend showed up with this. She had invited me to a “This could be the last day of the world so we might as well drink margaritas” lunch for the next day that I hadn’t planned to attend because I had planned to use up my child-free hours the day before. Or not. When she found that school was also canceled, she said she thought I needed a treat. It came with a bar of chocolate, too. “It’s nothing,” she said.



Our doorbell rang last Saturday and I opened the door to discover two of Andrew’s classmates - a set of boy/girl twins - on the porch, each holding a plate of holiday cookies. One plate was for our family and was full of all the good stuff; Andes mint chocolate chip cookies, peanut butter cookies with mini-Snickers baked in the middle, etc. The second plate was for Andrew. This very thoughtful family had baked special cookies just for Andrew that were all nut-free and safe for him to eat. He is an amazing sport about not being able to eat certain things and rarely – if ever – complains about having to pass on treats just to be safe. But, let me tell you that the look on his face when he saw a plate just for him was pretty great. He felt special and I felt amazing gratitude. “It was easy,” they said.

Kindnesses that seemed like “no big deal” or that were “easy” to the gift giver felt like big deals to me and felt like the spirit of what Christmas is supposed to be about. So, with these gestures fresh in my mind, I resolve to seize similar opportunities in the coming year! Thomas says he thinks this Christmas is going to be great and when asked why he says it's "because everyone just really seems to have the spirit." 

I agree. Merry Christmas!