Anyone for a Swim?

Five inches of rain (and counting) since last night; the backyard is now a lake. Those brown patches are not dry land; they're mulch and leaf mould floating on top of the water.

My lawn will grow back! Praise be! I love living in a swamp - or, at least, I'm glad to have my swamp back.

UPDATE: the water is 6" deep in the back of the backyard swamp. I know this because I threw sticks into the deepest parts and let Knight do the measuring for me. As Husband frequently comments: "you're not a very nice person." Knight pouted for some time after his information-gathering session outside. I really don't blame him. I know I didn't want to go out there.

Unrelated Thoughts

1. Why does my middle schooler have to go without water all day (unless he braves the grotty drinking fountains)? He can't bring a drink from home and have it in the halls or in class - not even in morning homeroom, which is where the school breakfast is provided. One child out of a thousand would bring alcohol, so rather than deal with 1 drunk student, 999 are left to get dehydrated every day. Well, whatever makes your job easier, Mr. and Ms. Administrator. Be my guest.

2. Today was a free dress day at middle school (or apparently so - not that One knew about it) and as I drove away from dropping him off I saw two 7th or 8th grade boys all decked out. They had skinny jeans, Tejano-star style shirts, and their hair was all spiky and slick. And they each carried (a) a bag of food for their homeroom Christmas party and (b) a dozen roses for their homeroom teacher. So. Dang. Cute.

3. Two has taken to filming himself making new Lego creations, and he is demanding I post said videos on YouTube so he can share his knowledge with the world. Is this my fault? Might be.

Whew. Finally, that horribly ugly dog is off the top of the blog. Now I'm happy.

Wounded

I feel beaten up most of the time these days, as if people and circumstances are contriving to put me through round after round with Manny Pacquiao. It makes me tired, all this fighting, especially since so much of it seems to be about whether I have the right or the ability to make good decisions. I'm constantly on the lookout for another wound, another verbal punch that is meant to tell me "I blame you for this" or "What you did caused it to all to go to hell."

I'm used to having my judgment and worth questioned, and I'm used to fighting back. I'm covered in wounds and yet, I'm still here. After all, I'm the one whose birth parents dumped her because 21 is "too young" to be a parent. I'm the one whose mother said "your fiance is possessed by demons", and I fought back and married him anyway, because it was my decision to make, not hers. I'm the one whose father said "I'm tired of all this shit" and walked away because I wasn't worth the trouble, and I still stayed alive. What I don't understand is why these attacks continue to come, over and over no matter how old I am. Why everyone around me inevitably reaches the point where they openly question everything about me. Where they wonder what the hell they are doing with this mulish, difficult woman who won't shut up and do what they want her to do. Where they begin to openly doubt my ability to do anything right. Sometimes that doubt is unspoken, but really, come on: I'm not stupid. If you really think I'm capable of making the right decision, why are you standing there fighting with me?

All I want is the benefit of the doubt. I just want someone to respect my judgment and my opinions, to think my decisions will be and are solid. I want someone to defend me, not attack me. And I don't have that. Not anywhere I look.

I'm getting pretty damn tired of getting beaten up, I have to say. Really. Freaking. Tired.

Lazy Saturday

We're having an extremely restful Saturday, thanks in part to One having this weekend off in football. Husband is surfing and listening to music, Two is inventing something upstairs, One is doing this:

and I am sitting here typing away. Just a few links. That's all.

You have to read what is far and away the best piece I've read on Steve Jobs this week. Technology, religion, hope. It's all there.

NY Times Health section has a series of articles called Small Fixes, which I love. They all feature low tech, inexpensive solutions to health problems in the developing world. Here is the one on clean drinking water; look down the side bar for a dozen more, all of which are encouraging and interesting.

John Hinderaker at Power Line on the Occupy Wall Street crowd. What he said. Squared.

Heather Hendricks wrote a beautiful piece this week on her family's work in Haiti. Page down to the part of the story about Marie Lourdes for the hardest (and best) bit. Awe-inspiring quote: "six kids who could have been dropped off at an orphanage in the weeks to come will hopefully be raised by their mother because people are beginning to open their minds wide to what orphan care can look like. Doesn't it make sense that one of the best ways to fight the orphan crisis is to prevent children from becoming orphans?" Amen. Amen. Amen.

One of the downsides of "unschooling" can be seen here. And before you ask, no, I don't think filling out forms is an end in itself - and certainly not the goal of education in general - but come on, life skills, people. Kids need them. And they also need us to teach them to do the hard stuff now, even if they find a job someday that has nothing to do at all with that hard stuff. We need to be by their side while they work on those skills; if we don't challenge them to do what's scary, where are they going to learn how to challenge themselves to do it? I could go on for pages on this subject, but let's leave it at that for now.

And last - something I'm sure I've linked to before but love, so I'm permanently excused from bringing up again. Lt. Thomas Meehan's last letter to his wife, before he died on the way to the Normandy invasion. It came up today when I was talking to Two about fighting with his brother, and as I told Two, this is one of those things that describes what it means to be a man. My little one is not there yet, but we'll get him there, he'll get himself there - it's what the journey is about right now. "... strong as hell and as kind as Christ." Indeed.

Late Night Miscellany

I have a number of Facebook-size things to say, but too many of them to inundate my FB friends, who are already reeling from the FB re-design foolishness this week, with that many "status updates". So a series of mini posts condensed into one blog post sounds like a good idea.

• How is it normal that I am wandering around the house after 10pm on a Saturday night, picking up messes, folding laundry and washing dishes, and that I find nothing strange about this condition? When did this happen, and how did I fail to notice?

• Speaking of laundry, I am still in some state of disbelief about that fact that I have soccer uniforms and practice gear to deal with that cannot go in the dryer. All of this fancy "dri-fit" stuff, and what does it say? Line dry. So among my work clothes and unmentionables on the drying rack are someone else's soccer shorts and jerseys. I look forward to making Two dig through my stuff to find his clothes some day; the embarrassment will make this worth it.

• One's team won again in football today, making their record 3-0. This was a hard-fought win against some pretty tough defense. They came from behind (13-6) and went on to win (20-13). It was their first real taste of adversity on the field and they handled it really well. At least once they got over the shock, that is. Here they come in at the win, celebrating as they make their way back to the sidelines. A sweet victory.

Do you like the flag in the center of the picture? Wow, I sure know how to set up a shot on the fly, that's for sure. I also know how to crop pictures afterwards to make it look like I have that skill. ;)

• Two has become addicted to Monopoly. Except he doesn't know how to say it. He calls it mon-o-pol-eee. That lone "o" is long, by the way. I don't have the heart to correct him; it sounds too cute for words. He became furious today when One bankrupted me and pushed me out of the game; he was still stewing on it hours later. I'd like to think he's chivalrous, but it might just be that he hates to see his brother win.

• Finally, Two's soccer "career" is off to a great start: his team is 2-0 so far, and have yet to allow more than 1 goal to be scored on them. I have to admit that Two's contributions to the team are still on the small side, but he is learning the game, and for a first-time player is doing pretty well. Some of the boys on his team? I am almost certain that a team of those 3rd and 4th grade boys could easily beat the high school team on which I played, were they able to travel back in time to do so. That is not as much of a victory as you might think: that was, after all, a team that let me play on it. But they really are phenomenal; they are a joy to watch. Even Knight, who is trying desperately to get accepted as the team mascot, thinks so.

Goodnight, all.

Links for the Week

I've been finding out a lot of random things lately; isn't that what the internet is for? As usual, I can't help but share some of them with you. Some fall in the "interesting and nice to know" category; some are a little stranger than that.

Youth football is not the most dangerous thing in the world. Yes, that word "not" is in there on purpose. As one of the MDs interviewed in the article says "The thing is, the little kids simply don't move that fast. And they're made of rubber." Anything that makes this mama feel better - we'll go with that, okay?

On the "much stranger" side of things: did you know that Mormons wear special, blessed underwear? Really, how there can be so many of them when this is what they look like under their clothes? If you know the answer to that question, please don't share. This was more than enough for me.

And then the scary side: Britain is going farther down the road to totalitarianism by trying to take away four overweight children from their overweight parents. George Orwell, call your office. Really, read the whole article: it's beyond disturbing. For three years a social worker been present at the family's mealtimes, taking notes on what they consume. That hasn't had the desired result, so the children are to be taken away and given up for adoption, with no parent contact allowed. I don't like seeing fat kids any more than the next person, but this is such an obvious violation of both the parents' and the children's human rights, it's ridiculous. Who will they come for next, I wonder?

I've actually caught Drudge in a mistake! Well, not a mistake per se, but one of his links this past weekend read: NEW PILL TO 'STOP STROKES'... and linked to this story from the UK. But ... the same drug has been approved for the same use in the same group of patients for close to a year in the US... so, news? No, not so much.

In general I never write about the industry in which I work, but this is an interesting story, and not one that I've seen in the US press. Cisco is being sued for allegedly helping the Chinese government develop a system to crack down on dissidents who use the internet to express their views. The claim, filed by Human Rights Law Foundation, alleges that there is evidence, in part in the form of a 2002 Cisco proposal, that "reveals how [Cisco's] products can address China's goals of “maintaining stability”, “stop the network-related crimes” and “combat 'Falun Gong' evil religion and other hostiles”." Oy.

Five links seem more than enough for a four-day work week. Cheers.

Back to School

We've had two weeks of school now, and overall third and sixth grade each seem to be a rousing success. Two is, of course, still at the same school, so his adjustment time has been minimal. He should have increased work this year and a push towards more independence in getting his work done, organizing himself, and so on - which he needs and which I hope he is ready for. He's quite capable of being ready for such things if he cares to be; whether he will put in the effort to care is all that remains to be seen. He is thrilled to have a number of good friends in his class, and he seems very well-matched with his teacher. He's added art club at school to compensate for missing classes at Glassell this semester, and he's trying out soccer for the first time. Busy? Yes, he's busy. But so far he loves soccer and there's no way he'll have anything but a positive reaction to art club, since art has always been one of his favorite subjects. I think he's set to have a good year, and to grow even more independent as he navigates the school building without his brother there for the first time in a while.

One is having a typical tween's reaction to middle school. He loves it, it's wonderful, he loves his teachers, he wants to learn, everyone is nice. And then he stresses out: he knows his work will fall short of perfect, he's worried he's not making friends fast enough, what if he's tardy and gets a lunch detention, and so on and so forth... As I said: a perfect tween reaction to middle school. He started down the path this afternoon while finishing up his homework (which has been blessedly light for the first two weeks) by telling me "but when I get this done, there will just be more assigned tomorrow, and then the day after that, and every week there will be work, and I don't how I can make it all year long." Followed by a loud sob. And so I rubbed his back and told him gently that, yes, Virginia, there is a lifetime of work ahead of him, and then at 80 he will retire. And that no one in their right mind looks at all of it at once, dangling out there in the future, waiting. He needs to learn - he is learning - to focus on the task at hand and to take small bites of the work that is to come. He'll figure it out - but why I was surprised that he came to me with the "I'll work and never stop" idea so soon, I don't know. This is the child who kept me in his room for a full hour past bedtime when he was four: "I don't want to die! Death comes for everyone someday and it will come for me and I'm scared and I don't want to die." At four. My friend Jenny calls it "existential angst", and One has it in spades, unfortunately. But he also has a lot of resiliency, which is why (I guess) I haven't heard a whole lot about the fear of death in the past seven years. And so I tell myself: this too shall pass. And it shall, and hopefully the joy and optimism remain. They have before, and so they will again.

As the top of the blog says: all of this has happened before, and all of it will happen again. Rinse. Repeat.

Doing What We Like Best

On the last afternoon before school starts.

The Hard Life

"My life is so hard."

I used to have a college roommate who said that, frequently. She would throw herself down in a chair, place the back of her hand against her forehead, and utter those dreadful words at least once a day. And then she would pick herself up, pour herself a glass of Diet Coke, and get on with the story of why life was just so impossible.

I think about those moments a lot, especially when I'm running and running and running, from laundry to work to pick up kids to buy groceries to cook something halfway acceptable (eggs? again?) to washing dishes to trying to remember to work out to falling into bed and asleep before I can turn off the light by my bed.

Sounds exhausting, doesn't it? Well, it is, and then it isn't. It is harder than the awful, dreadful things my 19 year old roommate - she of the Volvo and the 2 vacation homes - were facing? Yup, it's harder. But is it easier than what 99% of the world knows of as life? Yes and yes and yes again.

And if there's even one of you who doesn't believe me, read this and know, just for a moment: we all have it easier than so many other people. There is so much of our lives that we find hard - the traffic, the work, the making ends meet - that is so much easier, just because we do it here, in the richest nation, in the freest place, in all our middle class (or even upper middle class) glory. You all know that already without me saying a single, solitary word - that is adundantly obvious, I'm sure. But click the link and read it anyway, just because you should, even though you know already, and I know that you know, and all that. Just read, and remember.

Remember in gratefulness and not in grief. With alms-giving, born not out of guilt but out of thankgiving. May it always be so. Amen.

The Balance of Tears

Joyful, sad, all in one week. Isn't that what happens when you're an adult? Last time I thought about it: yup, that was it. I'm far too sad about a whole host of things - maybe it's the hot weather, pressing down on all of us and causing me to check my happiness. Sometimes I think life tries to balance itself out between tears of joy and tears of grief. Sometimes I think it's about as good at that as the Texas weather is about balancing sunshine and rain: not so much these days. We all have both; right now I simply have an over-abundance of sadness.

Today I read Kelly's heartbreaking and beautifully written post of two men my age taken from their families too young and it cut my heart in two. I watched Jennie Parillo's One Last Dance video that she posted of the last time her husband swirled their little girl around the living room and I cried tears of grief (for someone I don't even know) and of fear (for people I do - and love dearly).

I see my gloriously brave neighbor and her family, fighting cancer for the third time in eight years. She is my hero: a woman who faces down death itself and gets a second degree black belt at the same time. She roars and marches on where I would lie down in the middle of the road and give in. And still I'm scared for her - probably more scared than she can allow herself to be. "Oh Lord, visit and heal thy suffering servant..."

I hear that, after years of awesome parenting and self-sacrifice of the kind that would make me whine like a dog, a dear, dear friend is being challenged in court to keep custody of her beloved child. Her gracious, giving nature has caused her to be much more sinned against than sinning all these years, and what is the payment for that? Ugliness, a court battle, and a creeping fear that, despite her blamelessness, something will still go horribly wrong.

I have prayers for all of this, and more, and most days I say them and carry hope with me. But sometimes the fear suffocates me, as it does all of us. Today has been one of those days. A day of trying and failing to catch my breath and of feeling an ache in the pit of my stomach that has been absent for some time. Life is so good, and yet sometimes so short; so sweet and yet so painful. It's a struggle for all of us to live for the moment we have been given right now, and to celebrate this life as much as we can. To not give into fear, but to look to the light in all we have been given.

"Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner." And forgive me my fear, yet once again.

Saturday Treat

The boys fell in love with iced coffee in Colorado two weeks ago, so today I gave into their pleading faces and made them some as a treat.

Does anything look cooler on a hot August day?

Sunday Supper

Husband tried something new in the smoker today: pork shoulder instead of brisket. As much as this Texas girl is loathe to admit it, I am in love. Yes, as soon as those glorious slices of pork hit my plate, and I dipped them in the cider-vinegary, molasses-y sauce I'd cooked up, I close to passed out cold, right at the table. So way back when, some of my unknown ancestors must have stopped on in North Carolina on their way to Somewhere Else; it can be explained no other way. No, this does not mean that I will stop eating Husband's brisket, or stop participating in pilgrimages to eat brisket at Smitty's, but it's kinda like when you have another child: there's a new place in your heart all of a sudden for the next little loved one.

Here are some pictures of my new sweet one and all of his side-dish friends:

A butt's best friend, the homemade sauce: (bless my adopted Texas heart, I said the "s" word - oh shame!)

Some homemade roasted red peppers, because everyone needs some condiments:

A new okra recipe - first a picture of One cooking it, and then finished with the spices added. I'll post the details soon:


Kelly's blue cheese cole slaw - perfection, as usual:

And the old summer stand-by, tomatoes and fresh mozzarella. Two is getting pretty good at preparing this for me start to finish. I like it.

The day could not be complete without my favorite summer dessert - yes, s'mores for the 10,000th time. I plan on eating them so much with the boys that they become one of our quintessential summer memories.



Happy eating, y'all.

Saturday in July

A Few Random Thing I Know

You know you live in Texas when the guys remodeling your next door neighbor's house are still at it at 8:30 on a Saturday night. 12 hours a day, 6 days a week - isn't that a standard work-week?

You know you live in Houston when you children request sushi for their first post-camp dinner. And you give it to them.

You know you've picked the right summer camp when you wash the shirt your 11 year old played paintball in and it comes clean. Yes, water-soluble paintball pellets. One's pre-school never figured out the "non-permanent paint" thing, but Pine Cove has it down pat.

You know your younger child will be a sore trial to his wife someday when every picture taken at camp all week shows him wearing the same outfit. Six days, one really foul white swim-shirt. Ugh.

You know your older son enjoyed camp when he and three of his cabinmates insist on re-registering for the same week next year before they will allow you to leave the premises, and they painstakingly write down each other's full names to make sure they get to be in the same cabin as one another again next year.

You know you've been married a long time when you buy your husband a new shredder for Father's Day, give it to him early, and he's actually happy about it.

That's all I know for now.

Shopping Adventures

We went to the Galleria tonight to run some errands (something we never, ever do, especially all 4 of us together) and the boys were a little, well, over-excited about it.

First they amused themselves while Husband got a new suit:



Then we went upstairs to get One a tie for his upcoming "promotion ceremony" at the end of the school year. One, of course, wanted the.most.conservative.tie.ever.made. He makes his father look like a GQ-reading fashion junkie. Two, on the other hand, spent his time in the boys' department trying on blazers and suit coats. He liked the simple navy two-button blazer, of course, but then he found a navy pinstripe Joseph Abboud suit jacket ($165, thankyouverymuch) and we had to bribe him with a visit to the Toll House cookie store out in the mall to get him out of the jacket and out the door. He was addicted to his own reflection while wearing that jacket - he stared and he turned sideways and he buttoned and unbuttoned - I've never seen anything like it, at least not in an 8 year old boy. One thing is completely certain: that child is not working retail in high school and college. I can't afford to pay the bill when he's done.

Mother's Day Feast

We ate well today at the GW household. Husband outdid himself yet again with his brisket and an asian-style grilled veg dish; I made pea salad and tomato salad, as well as a simple strawberry shortcake for dessert. My boys spoiled me well and truly today: not only did I eat like a queen, they also gave me the nifty video camera with which I filmed the boys for the post just above, and a new camera lens that I took all of today's pictures with. Hopefully I'll get better with the latter in short order. Oy.

I think a good day was had by all. I know I had one. Thanks so much to my trio of hardworking, loving guys. I definitely don't deserve even one of you.

And now, of course, some pictures. Can you say "smoke ring"? I can.

This had some smoky, sesame oil, bit of spice thing going on. It was amazing.

I will never get tired of tomatoes, basil and fresh mozzerella. Ever.

Preparing for pea salad:

And the best way to end the day:

This is the nicest picture I took today with the new lens. Lambie looks 75% sweeter than she is in real life. Technology is an amazing thing, isn't it?

I hope your day was as good as ours was. Happy, all.

A Second Marriage?

Me to Two tonight: "Here's your iPad back. I borrowed it to play Scrabble while you were at taekwondo."

Two: "You love Scrabble!"

Me: "Yup, I love Scrabble, especially when you let me borrow your iPad."

Two: "Don't you think it's time the two of you got married, since you love each other so much?"

I'd love to know: when exactly did my eight year old become a supporter of polygamy?

Sunday in Pictures

Today was an almost-perfect spring Sunday. Although we missed church (Husband didn't feel well this morning - likely he just needed more sleep), the boys did two hours of taekwondo practice, I grocery-shopped, and all four of us did some serious yard work. Then we headed off for our well-earned reward of burgers and fries, followed by s'mores back home. I'm sleepy, full and I smell like woodsmoke: this is a good day. Here it is in pictures.

This is the pile from you-know-where. Why does everything that grows in our yard bite back when you touch it? We're all covered to one degree or another with stab marks and scratches - yikes.

The reward, step one:

Kate Middleton, you ain't got nothing on me: THIS man married me, 15 years ago. Sigh.

Two thinks the beeper is a video game - or at least he pretends he thinks so to amuse himself. I'm taking credit for the fact he doesn't need an actual video game to wait until dinner's ready. Yup, that was all me.

Husband and One make their own amusement while we wait:

Guess who wins?

I don't know why he makes this face ...

It obviously makes One sick when he does, though.

Aaaaaah, waiting is at an end!

When we got home, Husband started the fire while I whittled some new marshmallow sticks. Don't say I wasn't born in the Adirondacks.

One's first marshmallow of the summer:

Two makes his s'more:

And One takes his bite:

Happy Spring, y'all.

The Best Way to Walk Home from School

Back Again

Well, I took an unintended but welcome break from writing anything and now I'm back. I helped close out the fiscal year at work (and no one died while it happened, including me), worried some more about One and middle school, came to resolution on those worries, and started back trying to exercise a few times a week. And now, after all that, I give you a post that defines the words "non sequitur":

Five Favorite Smells

What are your favorite smells? I was once at a Bible study where we opened with going around the room and naming one favorite, and it was actually a very interesting conversation starter. I actually love thinking about this topic, as there are so many memories tied to smells if you just close your eyes and take a sniff. My top five? Not in any particular order:

Clean baby head

Lavender oil in a hot bath at the end of a bad day

A cool spring morning, low on the humidity

Woodsmoke

The smell that wafts over you as you wait in an old, favorite barbecue joint

How about you?