Walking and Talking

It's been about a year ago that Nate told me I was the best mom a kid could ever have, except his wife of course.  Sheesh, not even a Momma's boy when he was seven, I must be doing something wrong.

A few weeks ago we were coming home from walking the dog and he proceeded on down the alley on his bike as I put Cooper in the fence.

"Honey, are you going to ride in the alley for awhile?" No response.

"Yo Nate, I'm going in to make dinner, are you going to stay out here?" No response.

"Nate, if you're going to stay out you need to answer me and tell me you'll be on the lookout for cars."

Finally he looks up, hits the brakes on his old bike too hard, lunges forward, looks up at me, and goes down.

Somehow, I feel responsible and run over to him, and try to figure a way to untangle him from the bike. I don't have the heart to tell him to get himself up as I have been doing lately in an effort to help him break the habit he has of just laying there when he goes down. I'm repaid with kindness:

"You're the worst, it's all your fault. You're the worst mom ever."

After cleaning him up and having dinner, the storm seemed to have settled so I took a chance, "Hey, why do you suppose you were saying those things to me when you fell on your bike earlier?

"You know, because you distracted me and made me fall by talking to me and you know, I was panicked and didn't know what to do, so of course I blamed you.

Today we walked at sunset and he talked and talked about all the things we should do every day, or every week.  We should go on a long twenty mile bike ride every weekend and we should take Cooper on a long hike every day.  I suggested a walk around the neighborhood might have to do most evenings, he swooned and said, "Yeah, then you and Dad can take walks in the moonlight together."

"You know, I think you're gonna make someone a good husband someday."

"So you think I'm gonna get married?"

"Sure, if that's what you want."

"Well I have four girls who like me and seven who don't, so I need to get to work practicing to make more girls like me."

"You have plenty of time for that.  Plus, remember it's not just about whether they like you, it's whether you like them.  In fact, when you get older and start dating, that's what it's all about.  Learning the qualities you most like and those that you don't.  Eventually, you'll meet someone that has most of the qualities that you like and then maybe you'll decide to get married."

"I know Mom", he says, "but mostly it's up to the girls, because if they decide they like someone, they just dress up all pretty, and basically they've built themselves an arrow."

It's Summertime!

We are two weeks into summer vacation and Nate and I are still putting together our Summer 'hit list', but we've also marked a few things off the list as well. As I've encouraged him to keep up some writing during vacation, it occurred to me that I should revisit my little corner of the blogosphere.

There is much to catch up on, but with Gramma in Paris, it may be best just to jump in with a tidbit of the day. Nate is heavy into riding his bike these days and has gotten pretty proficient on the fancy bike gifted to him by Grandpa, with gears and everything. Best of all, he gets to ride with Grandpa on a regular basis and he's motivated all of us to take some family rides as of late.

 Yesterday, Grandpa, Shaun, Nate and I rode around Tidelands Park and Coronado for a cool ten miles. It was overcast and breezy, perfect morning for a ride.

Today, Nate was all about his cousin Harper this and Harper that. We spent the day running errands and preparing for a quick camping trip next weekend. He was relentless with his plan to ride the trolley, then the Coaster and finally for the last leg to my sister's house in Ventura, there would be a taxi ride. Unless of course we wanted to save a few dollars, then he would make arrangements with Aunt Terry to pick us up. "If I ask her, she will do it you know."

"Will Dad be going on this trip with us?"

"No, because that will cost too much money and besides, I calculated that I only spend two to four hours with you per day during the week, so I need to spend more time with just you." Great, so I'm not the only one counting...

Nate begrudgingly agreed to come with Cooper and I for a walk when I reminded him that he could mail his letter to Harper along the way. During the walk, the plan changed. "Mom, I am waking you up when I wake up tomorrow morning and we are going for the bike ride of our lifetime. Mom, can you keep up with me? The fastest we went yesterday was 19 mph and we have to go about 335 miles so I think we will get there in about 5 days." Planes, trains and automobiles were sounding spectacular about right now.

"Mom, can I trust you to tell me the right way to go? Other than that you can not say anything, you can not try to talk me out of it or say no. Just follow my wheel, no words, only follow. We will have the trip of our lifetime. Actually Mom, I think it would be better if Siri gave me directions, you just be quiet and follow my wheel, just follow it okay Mom?"

"Ok."

"Mom, only speak if you want to say what a good time we're having, or if I ask you a question, then you can answer."

 

Gone Fishin'

Camping 101, aka Hell Week

A successful camping experience is really no problem at all. Simply follow the Boy Scout motto, “be prepared” and the joys of outdoor living are yours.

It’s helpful if the weeks prior to your trip are filled with too damn many places to go, do, think about and deal with. Do not take heed when your friends reschedule the camp site next to yours because too much is going on. Nah, you got this, how hard could it be, really?

Clear your mind of other responsibilities before focusing on recreation. The first order of business is to plan for the fact that your business partner will be in Hawaii for the week and a half preceding your virgin camping trip. This will give you the opportunity to hone both your organizational skills, and your patience. You can consider your newfound commute between offices as ‘me time’.

There are two birthday parties and a Farmer’s Market that also need attending. You decide this is the perfect day to take your one year old puppy to the market for the first time. If not now, when? You’re sure the other shoppers won't mind his barking, his long tangling leash, or his wild eyed owner who might have just dropped the leash and walked the other way if her son were not there complaining how hungry he was. Determined to acclimate the dog to urban life and feed the child, you decide a sit down restaurant is a good idea. You could have brought less imaginative treats, but you are thankful for the bag of asparagus from the market to keep the dog busy at least till your lemonade and Advil arrive. The sound of your constant directions are tiresome especially to you, so you try to stop speaking. Listening becomes a challenge, all the listening makes you want to spear your own eyeball with an olive fork. You listen to the two yappy rat-dogs three tables over yip at every passerby; you listen to your child analyze and question why the waiter gave him more bubbles than lemonade and you more lemonade than bubbles; and best of all the lovely couple that won’t stop telling you all the benefits of, not only their golden retriever, but yours as well. It does not escape your notice that they cue their dog to stick its nose in people’s laps that clearly do not want to dine with a strange dog’s face in their crotch. You are also not amused by all the people entertained by your asparagus eating dog, nor are you amused by the lackadaisical waiter who later suggests you leave him a 50% tip…”Yes, I want my change and you will now get less of it for being a presumptuous jerk and for putting too damn many bubbles in my son’s lemonade for god’s sake!”

Next, you realize that the Variety Show your seven year old has signed up to perform in is in six days. He and a friend are to put on a three minute magic show. Three minutes is not a very long time for many things; three minutes is an excruciating amount of time for a magic show when you know exactly no magic. Your husband thinks it’s great that you relinquished the responsibility of the show, but when you relinquish a job to no one, you're pretty sure that’s called shirking not relinquishing. Your mind races, your boy is standing on the old wooden elementary school stage, overcome with fear and unpreparedness. He faces the audience squarely, squinches up his face, throws his head back, and cries in front of the whole school. His confidence, his courage is shattered and he withdraws...forever. You decide not to let his life be ruined at age seven. You decide the best thing is for him to quit and be done with it. He refuses; part of you feels proud of his perseverance and the other part of you does not want to deal with this at all. You write a script, learn a couple of magic tricks, organize rehearsals with his partner, threaten to make him quit, yell, cry, get talked off the ledge, get the music, change the whole thing a time or two and shriek that everyone start having a good time right this minute. Your head is pounding.

You both learn a lot. He learns exactly how crazy his mother is, a couple of magic tricks, and that he still likes being on stage. You get your magic socks blown clean off when he tells you flat out, “It’s like you care too much Mom, it’s like it’s your show. I want your help, but not in front of my friends and not too much.” Seriously. You try to heed his words because he is right. You give, and he follows, your last advice to take a deep breath when the curtain starts to open, have a good time and his audience will have a good time too. (Thanks Sam!) He did, they did, and you are so proud and happy for him.

You get a job offer midweek from the client whose office you’ve been occupying for the last month and a half. It’s a decent offer but requires the breakup of the business partnership that you’ve had for over sixteen years. Your little niche in the mortgage industry is quickly fading, a regular job is tempting, and no amount of Advil can take away the pounding in your head.

Your husband takes on the Pinewood Derby duty with your son, the big race which is to take place two days after the Magic Show and right in the middle of your camping weekend. You aren’t going far; it’s no trouble at all to leave the camping fun for the big car race. The Pinewood Derby is an annual Cub Scout activity in which the boys craft a car out of a block of wood the size of a brick, and then race them on an official track with all the other Cub Scouts. Luckily, most of the work on the car was done a few weeks prior. Your husband practices great restraint and only summons the boy to work on the car when you are far, far away. He is correctly fearful that you are going to blow at any moment.

The week includes the regular commitments of work, school, soccer, chess and swimming. You only forget swimming. There is a Recognition Ceremony to attend which may or may not have lasted 42 hours. Life around the office is chaotic with intermittent internet and phone connections due to a major office move and change of phone systems. Clients are outraged at your inability to get everything completed in the midst of it all. Your husband works into the nights cleaning up the trailer and getting it ready for your first time out. The moon is approaching its fullness and with it, your hormones are on full tilt.

You're pulled from Crazy Town and thrown straight into darkness at the end of the week when you learn that a good friend’s ex husband took his own life. They have (had?)two adult children. Your friend is a positive, thoughtful soul and found the one bit of generosity in his act, “fortunately he chose the right type of weapon, there was only what looked like a bruise to the forehead”. Her kids cannot be okay, she is not okay. You don’t know what to say, how to comfort, your head pounds. You think about the desperate times we live in, how many people are in real struggle, how the unyielding business of survival disallows so much of what is critical to our well being.

You don’t feel much like camping

Good Morning Sunshine

630am

Me: Good morning, Nate. Please stop working in the office and go get dressed for school so we can walk Cooper before breakfast.

Nate: Okay, but, Mom, I didn't want to tell Sam the advice from that slip of paper yesterday, (her fortune cookie indicated she would receive important advice from a child) but now I'm going to mail her this (bullet pointed list):

Inmportant edvice
*be peaceful
*Use less oil
*check your smoke detectors
*Have more fire drills
*Walk (Cooper) more
*Walk more (you)
*have communitty warnings louder
*be thuoghtful
*obey the golden rule
*obey laws and rules
*don't wake your mom up! ("this one is for Jarrah.")
*wake your mom up if a passout
*don't choose to live in Jail.
*don't choose to shoot.
*have choosing freinds (meaning have lots of friends.)
*Have Home SECUIRTY

7:30am walking the dog

Nate: Mom, do you think you will ever decide what religion you are?

Me: I don't know, I see great Truths in several of them.

Nate: Well, we are Jewish and Christian. You know, because we celebrate Christmas and Hanukkah. Eva doesn't believe in God, but I do, and I believe in Jesus Christ. I'm confused though, how is Jesus Christ the son of God, but Mary was married to that other guy? And how did she know she had a baby in there anyway?


Me: Stories from the Bible can be confusing; there are lots of miracles that really have no logical explanation.

Nate: I am not going to celebrate Islam because I am not kissing a stone, and going to that place would cost a lot of money, so I'm not going. I would rather go to France.

Me: Cooper, quit pulling me...yes, honey, Mecca would be a long way to go wouldn't it?

Nate: I think we might also celebrate Hinduism because you believe in Shiva and I believe in that elephant with four arms. But let's not celebrate the part that we can't pick our own jobs and the part about the slaves coming from someone's feet. Buddhism (pronounced booty-ism) is better for that part, but I am not shaving my head and I will shake my booty.

Me: Shake, shake, shake...shake, shake, shake; shake your booty...That sounds good, did you bring a poop bag?

745am Breakfast and packing lunches

Nate: Mom, how come white people were better than colorful people? (MLK holiday has been prominent in his awareness this year.)

Me: They weren't, Buddy. The people that thought so were wrong.

Nate: Then how come Martin had to go to jail? Did Rosa also go to jail? Cooper is kinda like Rosa because he doesn't do what he's told either.

Me: The laws were different and wrong about segregation back then. Cooper, on the other hand, needs some basic manners, regardless of his color or breed.

Nate: How do guns kill, Mom?

Me: I think we need to wake up your father. Did you see what I did with my coffee?

Nate: How do they, Mom?

Me: If a bullet enters a body, it could pierce a vital organ like a heart, causing it to stop working which would then cause death. Please drink your milk and clear your dishes.

830am

Me: Okay, teeth and hair then you have "free choice" till it's time to go to school. Maybe you'd like to watch some TV.

Nate: When I grow up, I am getting rid of all the guns. If we need to have a war, then we will use points instead of guns. How do you know when a war is over anyway?

Me: I think the points system is a great idea...Shaaauuuunnn...

Nate: How do you know, Mom?

Me: When both sides are ready to compromise. Where is your father? Is Johnny Test on? I have to get ready for work.

Sometimes I’m exhausted by the time the spray of the shower hits my face in the morning. Nate is a morning person, and he’s pretty much turned me into one too over these last (almost) seven years. I do love the very occasional morning that I am up first and get a cup of coffee in the dark and quiet solitude. I had such a morning recently, it was lovely but the best part was when my sleepy boy finally came down the steps and silently crawled into my lap for a long snug. It reminded me of the first time he slept through the night. I was wide awake at the normal 5am and so wired and excited he had slept, that I couldn’t go back to sleep myself. Plus, I missed him.

I am a lucky, lucky mom to get to be home and hang with my boy every morning. As much as it may wear me out at times, I'm honored and grateful to hear all the many directions his brain is moving. Maybe I'll figure a way to stop nagging him one of these days. Because really, it’s no wonder he can’t put his shirt on the proper direction the first time, he’s got a lot on his mind.

The luxuries in our lives have been far curtailed, but this one, this time together is one I'll hold onto for as long as I can.

MLK

"We have no morally persuasive power with those who can feel our underlying contempt for them."

Martin Luther King

The Reason for the Season, Deconstructed

"Mom, Hanukkah is better than Christmas."

"Why is that?"

"Because if you celebrate Hanukkah you get presents for eight days."

"Yes, but you usually get more than one gift also, you just get them all in one day."

"Okay, but I'm celebrating both."


One week later:

"Mom, Hanukkah is better than Christmas."

"Why is that?"

"Because Hanukkah is about freedom, and Christmas is just about Jesus' birthday, don't you think freedom is more important than a person's birthday?"

"Generally, yes I do. Some people also believe Jesus was the greatest teacher that ever lived."

"Yeah, the greatest teacher who ever lived...so far."


"By the way, Mom, what does Santa Claus have to do with Jesus' birthday anyway?"

"Frankly, I haven't a clue."