The Boys

I was on a bus going in to Boston with a bunch of students and parents.  It must have been 1999, 2000?  I don’t even remember where we were going.  I was sitting next to a FSPA mom who said that she taught with someone who apparently was moving in to the house right next door to us.  “She’s a teacher and he loves sports.  You guys will LOVE them.” 

I didn’t question what I was being told but I couldn’t imagine “taking anyone new on.”  This was well before H and M but even then, there weren’t enough hours in the day to do what we wanted to do.  I was confident that they’d be quite nice but wasn’t banking on anything much more than a friendly “hey, hope you’re well” over the fence every now and again. 

Well, I couldn’t have been more wrong.  Love these kids. To bits.  (Their parents aren't half bad either.)  :)

Like most of us, I don't like to admit when I'm wrong. Well, I. Was. Wrong.  I can't imagine life without them. 

Instead of living on the other side of the fence, they now live three minutes away (tops). And even that's too far.  Everything is just so easy when we are with them.  Well, except for the fact that H and M don't quite understand why they can no longer run around without shirts on as they did when they were toddlers, but that's okay. They'll figure it out soon enough.

There's no thinking involved.  We just can "be".  And I love it.  Now, if only I can convince their boys to marry our girls (I know there will be one boy left over but we can figure something out), I'll be a happy Mumma...

Summah

I try really hard, 365 days a year, - to be as much of a chill-take each day at a time-go with the flow-kind o' gal as possible.  Some days, it's a Big Fat Fail, but most days (I think) I get the job done. 

It's amazing, though, how this time of year, makes it so much more possible for me (and so many others) to just "be".  We're not any less busy during these summer months.  In fact, in some ways, we are busier.  But it's just so nice to feel as if you don't have much more than a care in the world. 

Kinda like these two last night.

H and her Daddio in the Public Gardens last night on the way to dinner.

Silence

On my 10+ miler today, this is what I thought about.












Yep.  Nothing.  This is why I run.  Love.

Is That Me?

Have you ever looked at yourself as you walked by a mirror and were surprised by what you saw? 
That just happened to me.
I'm wearing an outfit that is so "not me". today.
My hair, my necklace, my skirt.  None of it is me.
I don't mind the look, actually.  But I'm surprised by the look of myself today.  I mean, I dressed myself obviously. I shouldn't be surprised by the look.  And yet, I am a bit now that I think about it.

It made me think about how others see me.  And hear me.  I'd love to get a glimpse of me from other people's perspectives.  I bet it's totally different than how I perceive myself.  I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. It really doesn't much matter.  It is what it is. 

I think I'm quite lovely.  Not sure what others think... :)  No really.  This, for me, is one of those things that make me go hmmm...

Thank You

To all the amazing dads in my life -

Thank you for be such great dads.  It's not an easy job.  (Largely because you have to deal with us moms.)

Thank you for keeping us safe and protected.

Thank you for all the things you don't say, even though you want to, because you know that's the wise choice.  (You've learned well.)

Thank you for doing all that you can to give us what we need - and then some.

Thank you for doing things for us when you'd rather be doing things for yourselves, all the while, with smiles on your faces.

Thank you for making us laugh when we really want to cry.

Thank you for making us laugh when we really want to scream.

Thank you for knowing when to "fix" and when to "listen".

Thank you for making being a mom that much easier with you by our sides.

Thank you Natalie Merchant - for saying it so well.   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J5ZjrGdlNDo

Thank you.

Silver Lining

As I was sitting in the car pick up line today (in the pouring rain) it reminded me of our wedding day.

YEP - pouring rain.  It was gorgeous the day before.  And even more gorgeous the day after.  It hadn't rained on a Saturday for MONTHS.  Until October 25, 1997.

Leading up to "the" day, we had hoped beyond hope that it wouldn't rain. (Doesn't everyone?)  When we knew the night before that Mother Nature was going to mess with us, my dad made a quick phone call.  (Not to Mother Nature.  She was busy getting ready to pour buckets on us...)

My dad called a kid (well, he was at the time) to see if he and his friends were busy the next day.  The deal was, if they weren't busy, would they be willing to walk folks to and from the street in to the church underneath big golf umbrellas?  They agreed to it - and they showed up the next day in sports coats, ties.  All dolled up.  Too, too cute.  I'm not even sure how old they were - 16, maybe?

I love seeing them in our wedding video, helping folks in to the church.  It makes me so happy that they were, unexpectedly, a part of our day. They were the first people to greet our guests.  They chit-chatted with folks.  Laughed with folks. Surprised folks when they appeared with umbrellas in hand to keep them dry.  It was just a little part of the day but to me, it is such a great one.

When I was standing at the back of the church, waiting to go down the aisle, they waited back there with us. In fact, one of them made sure that my train was straight before I walked down the aisle with my dad and grandfather.  I remember thinking at the time - "if I ever have sons, I want them to be just like these guys."

As an aside, one of "these guys" (who is no longer a kid) is one of our Four Family's favorite voices.  His band's CD has been affectionately named our Four Family's "Summer of 2012" and "Summer of 2013" CD...if it ever feels like summer again. 

Do me a favor, check out Brothers McCann here: brothersmccann.com/   And "like" them on facebook here:  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Brothers-McCann/21759442359?fref=ts  They are working on a new CD as I type. (Remember when I told you to help 'em out and donate to their project on kickstarter?)  These guys rock the world.  Listening to them make music will simply make you happy.

When they become famous, maybe I'll return the favor to Mike and I'll help shield him from the rain as he walks down the Red Carpet to receive his Grammy Award.  I'll do it.  Promise.

Anyway, I guess my point is, at the time, I thought that the rain was going to be such a bummer.  But as it turned out, it's one of my favorite memories of the day.  

You never know how things are going to turn out.  Most of the time, if you let yourself, you'll be pleasantly surprised.

Let's Not Make Music

Tonight at FPAC's Les Mis auditions, I re-connected with M and H's music teacher when they were just babes (this was obviously before we taught kiddos that young at FSPA.)  Miss Chrissy was adorable then and still is now.  Tonight, when I saw her, she looked familiar but I couldn't figure out how I knew her.  Thankfully, she recognized me and helped me put two and two together.  I told her that her ears must have burning recently, as I was just telling someone how H and M were THE poster children for how NOT to behave in a music class.  OMG - they were awful.  She said that she didn't remember that about them.  Miss Chrissy lies.  Let's reminisce, shall we?

They were maybe two.  Adorable.  Little itty bitties.  Coordinated outfits (sort of like the Mandrell sisters).  Massive heads of hair.  Ponytails on the tip tops of their heads.  Chubby cheeks.  Little voices (when they tried to say words.)  BIG voices (when they cried).  The. Entire. Time. In. Miss. Chrissy's. Class. 

It was a "mommy and me"-type class.  Truthfully, not my cup of tea, but I understand why some folks like that set-up.   I sat RIGHT next to them.  For the entire class.  They couldn't have POSSIBLY sat any closer to me and yet they never stopped crying. From the moment we walked in until the moment we left.

Every mom and EVERY OTHER CHILD in the class thoroughly enjoyed every moment of Miss Chrissy. How could they not?  The class was filled with laughing children, big drums, scarves, smiles, triangles, puppets, guitars and hoola-hoops.  And my two loser children. Crying.  Non-stop. We'd get up from the floor at times and walk around the room and such while singing some song - you know the kind.  They'd cling on to my leg and start to sweat they were so upset.  Before I knew it, I was sweating too.  It was mid-December.  I couldn't ignore them, these appendages off my leg and yet, I tried to imagine they weren't there. I tried to imagine none of us were there.  It was painful. I am pretty darn sure that the other moms in the class cringed when we walked in each week. (You know the look.  The one you get when you're walking on to an airplane with your whooping cough child.)  They surely hoped that we'd be absent. And yet - I was determined to make it work. 

I was "that mom" who (even though you were not allowed to bring food in to the room) snuck them fruit snacks from my pocket an attempt to shut them up.  I was "that mom" who bribed them during every car ride to class.  Each week, I thought I got through to them and each week, I was wrong.  The bribes didn't work.  Nothing worked.  Absolutely nothing.  Each week, as we took off our shoes, they'd turn in to exorcist toddlers.

I don't even remember if they EVER learned to like the class.  And it pained me.  It was so not because of the class.  The class was just fine.  It was my children that sucked.  Yes.  There I said it.  They sucked.

Thankfully, they have turned themselves around.  I think we're on the upside now.

I will definitely have to tease them about this tomorrow.  They deserve it.

Their World

Sometimes, they wrap themselves up in each other like they are one person. 

Especially at night when they are asleep.
They sometimes start in different beds but often end up in the same.

It's something I can't explain.

It's something I can't understand.

I marvel at it.

I could watch them for hours this way.

It's something special about two (or three or four) people who shared a big fat belly for nine months. 

They get it. 

We don't. 

We never will.

...ribbit...

I have no explanation but as nervous as I get talking to people I don't know (like at parties and such), I am highly comfortable talking to strangers over the age of 75 (or children under the age of 4)- at any time and under any circumstance. 

Today, I had an appointment at an allergist (dead-end, got me nowhere, RL was right... :)) and in next to no time, I became best friends with the little man sitting next to me.  I was kind of carrying on as if we were a comedic duo.  In fact, we had the ladies behind the desk laughing at us.  I was on fire.  I stopped short of asking for tips ... but I was tempted. 

Then, as the nurse filled out the questionnaires and such before the doctor came in, I became her BFF as well.  She wasn't quite as old as Johnny, but definitely much older than I. 

Minutes later, when the younger (younger than me, I'd say) doctor came in, I was like "Michigan J. Frog"... couldn't think of much to say and found myself trying to be entertaining but just wasn't. Well, he did chuckle a few times (both times I was channeling Dupe which is always sure to get me some laughs) but it's just not the same. 

Ah well...at least I know what I'm good at.



Memories

As I hang in the kitchen, nearing the end of lunch and snack-making for a few months, I can't help but think back on my school years.  These are the thoughts that come immediately to my mind...and I am sorry if I mention anyone and cause embarrassment.  (I know this blog is all about me, but sometimes it is also about you...)

Kindergarten-Knowing for the first time ever that I thought boys (well really a certain boy) was way cute.  Tommy Walker.  Oh my God, with that little bowl cut.  A-dor-able.  I now teach his daughter and she is equally a-dor-able.  Sometimes I see expressions on her face that remind me of him when we were little.  It makes me so happy/I also remember getting off the bus one day and Stephen Impey kissed me on the head.  I remember being so embarrassed, fearful that I was going to get in trouble.

First Grade-Mrs. Wood reading us Charlotte's Web/Being afraid that "the other teacher" (Mrs. Moulton?) would really make us put gum on our noses as we had heard she did/The whole spilled milk incident.  (See "There's Not Use Crying Over Spilled Milk" blog entry.)

Second Grade-Beautiful Mrs. Goss/Raising my hand to use the word "nun" in a sentence.  My mom (who always came in to help) sat there proudly because she assumed I'd say something like "my mom had a nun for a teacher growing up."  Instead, I referred to a bottle of Blue Nun liquor that my parents had in the basement because my mom was making a great table with labels from bottles. She was mortified/Amy Ferioli and I arguing over who liked Bobby Jarvis more.

Third Grade-I was always amazed at how skinny Miss Fallon was/Jessica Smith had those super cool pencils with the crazy heads with wacky hair on the eraser.  (You know the kind your twirled between your hands and the hair got all crazy?!...)/I loved being in the highest reading group.  (I used to be smart...I'm not sure what happened.)

Fourth Grade-Getting my first F in Mr. Gonsalves class.  (I still don't quite understand longitute or latitude.  I hope H and M remember more of their fourth grade than I did.

Fifth Grade-I was amazed at how messy Charlie Deforge's desk would get in a matter of minutes.   We'd come back from recess and his entire desk would be tipped over so that he'd be forced to clean it.  He'd just laugh and start throwing stuff away/I couldn't believe how much "shit" Chris Butts gave Mrs. Ficco.  She was a saint.

Sixth Grade-Meeting Alyssa Sveden on the bus going to Central District.  We ate devil dogs and nearly choked because we had nothing to drink/Mrs. Barber reading "The Hobbit" to us. I loved the book but hated how her breath smelled like cigarettes/G teasing me in the lunchroom.

Seventh Grade-Mr. Ferrari.  He still makes me laugh just thinking about him.  I wonder what he's up to these days...?

Eighth Grade-I feel badly at how much I didn't like - oh God - I can't think of his name - the science teacher.  Good friends with Mr. Hoar.  I SO didn't understand a thing he taught and, in my mind, it was clearly all his fault/Going to a CYO dance and dancing with Bryan Cotton.  Once again, I thought I was a hussy/Looking out the window in what's-his-name's science class, hoping that Eddie Colace would pull up to the school to see his dad.  Does he still have the "HOP IN" license plate?  Either way, he makes a good meal at Incontro these days!

Ninth-Twelfth Grade:  Suffice to say, these years can be summed up with these few words:  big bangs, bright lipstick, pegged pants, obsession with Danny Feeley.  Safe to say, I'm over all these things.  Thankfully - although I'm sure Danny's a great guy.

Ah, those were the days.