Juggling Life

Let Them Grow Up!

I've already made my feelings clear about wanting my kids to be independent. Apparently, it's not just my kids that I want to be independent, it's your kids too. What brings this up? Every year our high school does a thing called "kick-off." Natch, kick-off relies heavily on volunteers and even more natch, yours truly has been there, working diligently, every year since they started this.

Kick-off is held the week before school opens and is a chance for the students to turn in all their paperwork (downloadable on the 'net), buy ASB cards and P.E. clothes, get their schedules and pick up their textbooks. It makes the first day of school go a lot more smoothly. Even though I work kick-off, my kids always go on their own (there are staggered days and times to make things manageable--we are talking 1800 kids here).

Last Tuesday morning from 8-11 (for my regular readers, that would be the day after my first day of school and not too long after my energy-sapping 36 out of 96 hours in a car and yes, I do need my head examined) I was there for Freshman kick-off, manning Station 1, the paperwork station. I was a Gatekeeper. Your mom didn't sign your Zero-Tolerance form? No schedule for you!*

I would say that perhaps 10% of the kids came on their own. Amazingly, these kids were the ones that had everything together and projected a confident air. Another 10% of the kids had parents with them, but the parents stayed a respectful 5 feet behind them and let them handle everything on their own. The remaining 80%? Should have stayed home. 'Cause it was definitely the mom or dad show--they were treating their 9th graders (for those of you who can do the math, these kids are 4 years away from legal adulthood!) like toddlers.

Moms  and dads shoved their children aside to write the kid's name on the form I handed out that was to be carried station to station. This was after I explicitly directed every comment and question at THE STUDENT and handed THE STUDENT the form. They didn't let their kids look at the forms, much less turn them over to me. Digression: I'm assuming these were the same parents who didn't teach their kids to tie their shoes before they started elementary school. Yes, it's time-consuming and yes, it's easier to do it yourself. But for the teacher with 20 Kindergartners to teach? She can do a lot more teaching when she's not tying 20 pairs of shoes!

My point here? Let your kids grow up! Let them be anxious and nervous in a new situation and make it through that situation okay and say to themselves "Hey, I can do things on my own! I rock!" Every time you think your child can't possibly to something independently, think about this: In ____ years, they'll be off to college, or getting a job, or joining the military. Then count back from that and think about what they should be capable of doing on their own.

*Actually I did a lot of this: Looking straight into student's eyes, blinking like a gnat just flew into my right eye, saying "Go out to the parking lot where your mom is waiting and have her sign this and then come back to me." Wink, wink. For those that obtusely maintained their mother was not in the parking lot? Sorry, there's only so much I can do. Unless I personally know your mother; in that case I'm more than happy to forge her signature. 

That loud crash you heard? That was me falling off my soapbox!

The End Is Near!

Yeah, it's exactly like that!

The End Is Near!

 

Yeah, It's exactly like that!

Elementary My Dear Watson

Earlier this summer Danger Boy and Gangsta Boy returned home from an afternoon of unsupervised roaming. I asked where they'd been. Vons, the Club, a friends, the park.

Me: Where were you when you were scaling fences?

DB: The Club. We took a shortcut to friend's house.

My BIL was truly astonished: How did you know that?!

Me: The front of their shirts are streaked with dirt and Danger Boy has a snag on the hem of his. Fence climbing.

BIL to boys: I sure wouldn't try lying to her!

In Which Reading To My Children Has An Unexpected Advantage

This photo wasn't taken on the same day as this story happened, but it was around the same time period.

Backstory: When MVP and Danger Boy were little tykes, the Little Critter books were among their favorites. We had a pretty full selection of Little Critter in our library, including Just Lost.

I had a double jogging stroller for Danger Boy and Social butterfly. (Not that I did much jogging). We were at the San Diego Animal park one day--we went every couple of weeks or so. Social Butterfly was in the stroller. MVP and Danger Boy were walking ahead of us, but not too far, holding hands.

We were walking by an amphitheater when a show let out. People spew from exits spaced close together. I am abruptly halted by a continuous flow of humanity, heedless to my cries of "Excuse me, excuse me." Meanwhile, I watch helplessly as MVP and Danger Boy continue forward unable to hear me call them because the crowd is so noisy.

I rip Social Butterfly from the stroller, abandon it, place SB on my back (she was about 9 months) and run, frantically searching for my boys. There are so many directions they could have gone. I race  one way then another and scream their names like a madwoman. As I am looking for security there is an announcement over the P.A. "Jenn Juggling Life please report to security." I find a kiosk and ask where security is; an officer arrives in a golf cart and takes me there.

There sit my boys, 5 and 2, patiently and calmly waiting for me. I hug them and shed a few tears of relief. "How did you get here?" I ask.

"Well when we couldn't see you I knew we were lost. So I did what Little Critter's mom says you're supposed to do. I went to the food stand and told a worker we were lost. The police brought us here."

It was the first time that I'd ever experienced "the terror." It's not been the last time, but there's nothing like it. I'm a big believer in educating your kids on how to behave in crowds and with people they don't know, but not teaching them to fear strangers. This book obviously helped me do that in a big way.

Juggling Life--It's Not Just The Title Of A Blog!

I'm back at school--it's my last year--WOOT WOOT! Am I worried about juggling my schoolwork*,  Danger Boy's water polo schedule (he made Varsity as a sophomore!), making it to all the football and basketball games that Social Butterfly will be cheering at, cooking really healthily so Mr. Fix-it and I can drop some weight, or getting enough exercise so I can 5K ass? Not really, I'll get all that done.

What I am worried about is how I'll keep up with the rigorous blogging schedule to which I've become accustomed! I know I'll continue to post daily. When I started this blog on December 25, 2007, daily writing and posting for one year was my goal. I've made it 8 months, there's no way I'm going to give up now. Neurotic and anal-retentive who? I'm okay with fudging by writing several posts in one day for later publication; rationalization what?

I'm not even that worried about the reading--I've been keeping up with about 100 blogs this summer--there are the people I read and who read me and the people I read who may or may not read me, but definitely don't comment, and the people who I read who almost certainly don't read me but I love anyway (no, I'm not talking about Dooce). I'm a very fast reader and I've become almost adolescent in my ability to multi-task on the computer. So I'll still be reading.

My worry is the commenting--I know I can't keep doing it as much as I have been--which is pretty much to all 100 blogs every time there's a new post. So if you don't hear from me for a few days, don't think I've abandoned you--I assure you I have not. I just won't be able to comment on every post, every day.

It pains me to put this out there, because I know what comment-whores most of us are and I hate to deprive any of you of even one comment, but alas, it must be so. Truth be told I'm a bit worried it may also affect the number of comments and readers I have, but life and it's many duties must take priority. Thanks for understanding.

*Amended to add: Okay, I'm a little worried. I have 28 books this semester. And a prof who looks at our Social Construction of Science class as an interesting sociological experiment in which the students are his lab rats. Rumor has it he doesn't consider it a good semester until someone has cried in class. I think we can safely assume it won't be me!

Fort Collins Flowers

 

  

 

 

Letters To Those I Met On The Open Road

Dear Guy parked next to my minivan at a truck stop in Utah,

I was pretty obviously impatiently patiently waiting for you to close your door so I can get into my car and leave (my husband sitting in the driver's seat with the car running was the subtle hint). While I'm about to be sick enjoying the view of both your back tattoo and your entire ass boxer shorts, I'd also like to get going as I have 10 more hours until I get home. Plus, it is like 100 degrees so the sooner I can get in the air conditioning the better. Of course, I do understand the need to clean out your car occasionally on a long trip--I just pause if doing so is holding the person next to me up. Also, thanks for spitting right in front of my car door as you stood up. Nothing says Road Trip! like a great big loogie.

 

Dear Girl with the Guy parked next to my minivan at a truck stop in Utah,

On the inside of the door in the women's restroom is the number for a woman's crisis center. Apparently you can just wait in the bathroom and they'll come pick you up. I appreciate your being very young, seriously pregnant and not able to afford a shirt that covers your belly, but judging from the possessive hold he has on your upper arm, he is probably not your Prince Charming. Think about it.

 

Dear Sorority Girl risking your life by crossing against the red light while laughing uproariously,

You may have noticed that the rest of the student body is presenting sort of a chill, outdoorsy, athletic feel. Your hot pink tube dress, ratted black hair and cigarette really make you stand out. However, if the look you're going for is hawt you bypassed that and went straight to hawt mess.

 

Dear Parents that are bringing your students their own mattresses,

Come on! If they can't survive by sleeping on a less than perfect mattress when they're 18,h ow on earth will they be up for backpacking across Europe on $20.00 a day before they have to get serious about earning a living.

 

Dear Parents of all the freshman girls moving into the dorms,

Hahahahahaha. I know my day will come with Social Butterfly, but in the meantime it took us less than an hour to move in and get organized. Boys just do not care about matching throw pillows or coordinating bedding with their roommate. It's pretty nice. We're going out to lunch and to take a nap at the hotel now, see you later.

 

Dear Mother who was squeezing her 12 year old daughter's hand while darting her eyes around the bathroom frantically and then went into the stall with her at Terrible's Resort & Casino truck stop,

Quit watching 24 hours news coverage; you're paranoid.

 

Dear Very Rough Looking Chick in the bathroom at Terrible's Resort & Casino truck stop,

It was so nice of you to walk over to a woman you didn't know, smooth down her dress where it was flipped up, and keep going. You rock!

 

Dear 70ish Clint Eastwood doppelganger (except scrawnier) at Terrible's,

The red short shorts and the red fleece ripped belly shirt? Bold choice.

Off To College: The Recap

                                        Getting There

                                        2:30 a.m. August 19

Mr. Fix-it picked the departure hour. MVP had been at a friend's party until midnight so he wasn't driving. I'd barely had any sleep myself so I was exhausted. But Mr. Fix-it still imagines himself as having the stamina of a 20 year old (plus he was recently medically diagnosed as being a stud), so 2:30 a.m. it was. The hours between 2:30 and 5:00 consisted of me blearily staring at him, fighting to keep myself awake so I could make sure he stayed awake. It's not a system I would recommend. His normal waking time is about 5:15  I was confident he was fine by then so I went to sleep, spending the better part of the day in that waking/dozing/crick in the neck/not enough leg room cycle of a long car trip. We rolled into Fort Collins at 10:30 p.m. local time, a mere 18 hours after setting out.    

                                    The Campus

    

The campus at CSU Fort Collins is incredible. It couldn't be more beautiful. The college and town look they came out of central casting for "picturesque college town."

                                         The Dorm Room

 

                    Check-in at the dorm which is oh-so-centrally located

    

Clockwise from top left: MVP wishing his mom would put the goddamn camera down. View from his window (the entire residence hall is incredibly open and airy), Desk (duh), Desktop featuring Wordle I created to remind him where he's from and where he's going.

Moving in and getting organized was a breeze as Mr. Fix-it and I are champions in this department. A blank space to organize? Excuse we while I . . . . never mind. We've never made a move that did not culminate with all pictures hung and it looking as they we'd live there forever within one week. We are from the "get 'er done" school of moving!

 

Creative effort of Mom who has been left alone in room because MVP someone forgot to pack the lock and no way am I leaving a $3,000 mountain bike unattended in a dorm room on move-in day.

                The Ease The Parents Into Letting Go Program

                                             RAMS ON PARADE  

An unphotographed highlight of this event was when Mr. Fix-it took out another father while going for a t-shirt that was shot into the crowd. MFI didn't see him and ran smack into him. Apparently the other guy was not amused and walked away muttering something about not being young anymore.

                                       The Last Supper 

 

         

                                             Dining al fresco

         

                                          Goofing al fresco     

MVP and best friend, The Runner. They became friends before kindergarten and stayed friends even when TR went to a private school and then moved to Chicago. They decided on CSU Fort Collins separately and are not rooming together. They're Mutt and Jeff, but love to do the same things--their idea of a great time is a 50 mile bike ride followed by a round of golf. It was great to hang out with TR and him mom for these couple of days.

                                         The Goodbye

                              He walks away, we drive away

                                       The Drive Home

We had planned on doing the Friday morning parent's programs, but then we got restless--so much to do at home (I start classes on Monday)--and really, we've been through all of this with Grown-up Girl and it was a lot of administrators reassuring helicopter parents they're kids would survive without them. That's so not us. So I canceled our Friday night hotel reservation, said goodbye to MVP outside his dorm Thursday night, and checked out of our hotel at 8:30 a.m. with the intent to drive as far as we can. My vote is for a stop in St. George, but knowing Mr. Fix-it we'll make it home in the wee hours of the morning. I'm typing this in Southern Colorado, so I'll let you know how it turns out!

*Okay, now we're nearing Vegas. I have clearly been drinking the Kool-Aid as I'm thinking, "Wow, only 5 hours to go."

                                   How Was It?

We had a fantastic time. There's something about knowing that you won't see each other for 3 months that makes every one behave super sweetly to one another.

Even when we had to make a late night trip to WalMart to buy items (ethernet cable, batteries, screwdrivers, camp chair plus the beater bike we bought from a pawn shop because a skateboard just wasn't enough for getting around town) that Mr. Fix-it had mentioned to MVP he might want to gather and pack from home, civility and kindness prevailed and there was very little I-Told-You-So.

There were no tears at all. Mr. Fix-it and I just feel lots of excitement for him to have the opportunity to be at a college that is perfect for him. We're both a wee bit envious (not of MVP, but of the the opportunity) of the great opportunity MVP is being given, which is one neither one of us ever had But hey, that's the way it works--you do the best you can for your kids. We're also pretty proud of ourselves for having raised a son that's done so well for himself and for being able to provide him with this opportunity.

We're sure MVP is going to do great. He's able to attend an out-of-state school because he received a tuition credit for his high GPA/SAT scores. Now the pressures on him to keep it up--if his semester grades drop below a 3.2 and he loses the tuition credit and has to come home. How's that for incentive?!

For me, sending him off to college has been like all the other "nexts" in my kids lives thus far. I'm so excited for them and so sure they're going to be so happy as the embark on whatever adventure awaits, that I'm really not sad. I'll always have my memories of their younger days and my pictures to remind me and now my blog to contain our stories; in the words of Helen Keller, "Life is either a daring adventure or nothing." I choose to look upon it as a daring adventure.

            Totally Random Things I Learned On This Trip

My cell phone has Internet access. I've had the phone since December and I just figured that out.

It is totally not satisfactory to read blogs on the screen of a Verizon EnV.

Just because we both like songs from the '70's doesn't MVP and I like the same songs from the '70's .

If you can enjoy each other's company trapped in a van for 36 out of 96 hours, you're probably good to stay married.

You can get a lot of blogging done in the car if your thoughtful husband gets an ac adaptor for the lighter. But only when the sun is not too high to in the sky.

Staring into the sun via viewfinder while taking pictures is a lot like staring at the sun (stupid and you should not do it; especially in the desert).

MFI and I can drive through Nevada twice in four days and never gamble.

Try for a signal at every bathroom stop--you might get lucky!

 

 

 

 

 

            

 

 

Sunday Special: Two Posts For The Price Of One!

 

The Many Ways Parent Bug

I believe the only way we survive is to remember feeling exactly the same way about our own parents! Who were of course way more annoying and not nearly as cool as we are. Still . . . !

 

Because Inquiring Minds Wanted To Know . . .

I texted MVP at 11 a.m. Just a casual "how's it going?" He called me back right away and has called me several times today--class changes, etc. He's having a blast and is out in town with new friends from his floor as we speak/blog.

My SIL called at about 7 on Monday night to say she was 10 minutes away. Alas, no one was home to answer the phone as we were dropping Danger Boy and Social Butterfly off at their friends' homes. (Anyone that really wants to reach me calls my cell phone--she's lucky I actually got the message from the answering machine). When she got no answer from us she continued up the 15 to Murietta (about an hour away) where my husband's 2 brothers and their families live. She found lodging there, from equally annoyed but hiding it people.

Many of you presumed that I rearranged my schedule when my in-laws do their drop in thing. I really don't. We just go on about our business and include them to the extent we can. BUT . . . that doesn't stop it from really annoying me. It's better now that the kids were older and understand what's going on, but when they were young it was really hard because they wanted to spend time with Nana and Papa--so I had the choice of disappointing my kids or rearranging my life on a moment's notice to accommodate what is nothing less than total inconsideration on their parts. Aaaah, family! I do want to reiterate that they do have many other lovely qualities.

What's really funny is that when they were officially invited to come out for MVP's graduation in June and I sent them an e-mail with the dates and times of the festivities surrounding the graduation and the best dates to plan on being at our house (versus other brothers' homes), there was talk about how rude that was.

Then again, I am the uppity daughter-in-law that chose to FLY to a family wedding in Minnesota (I had 3 kids under the age of 6, the tix were a great price, and I just wasn't going to drive). The scandal of it all--did I think I was too good for driving?!

Once again, aaaah family!

P.S. My BIL found a job. Yay! Note to employers--in this economy if someone is "overqualified," but is still applying for your job, it probably means they NEED a job. He also found an apartment. Mr. Fix-it had to end up being on the lease due to bad credit (my sister, again), but he had the money to get in, and hopefully we'll be able to get off the lease in a few months. Many thanks to the property manager that felt like giving someone a chance to start over. They moved out today. Is it okay if I'm a bit giddy? We're down from a high of 10 people sleeping in the house in late July to just Mr. Fix-it, Danger Boy, Social Butterfly and me now. I think I could get used to this.