Young Talent

When these guys make it big, I will tell you I knew them when. I even changed their diapers! This is a picture of my cousins playing in their band, Sofo . They live in Denver and have created quite a name for themselves in that area. I am so proud of them, and the way they have pursued this dream while balancing school and day jobs. Years ago, I remember family Christmas gatherings and hearing them noodling around with their guitars, but never dreamed the sounds they were creating would become parts of the music they play today. This spring, the boys released a CD, which I have listened to over and over. I don't understand all the songs, but I really like 4 of them. Because of them, my taste in music is expanding and I've added the word "indie" to my vocabulary! I can't wait until their touring brings them to Iowa so we can go see them in person.

This summer, I have encountered 2 other talented musicians from the Boone area. I ran into Josh Davis, a former student of mine who has been playing in his own band for a few years. His popularity is rising in the midwest and the southern midwest, and I've even heard his music played on a Des Moines radio station! After visiting with him, it was fun to go home and check out his website to hear his music and check out his tour schedule. 

A few weeks ago, I was in our church youth room and met the daughter of some fellow educators here in Boone. I didn't realize Laura's been living in New York and performing in clubs there. I was blown away by her beautiful clear voice and her style of song writing. How fun to later visit her myspace page to hear her music and find that she is performing locally while she is home for a few weeks. Perry and I visited a coffeehouse where she played and we really enjoyed it.

So what has gotten into me? Although I've always loved music, I've never been a groupie by any stretch of the imagination. In fact I don't even like concerts, due to the price of concert tickets and the claustrophobic, ADHD feelings I get when sitting in a crowded arena. Maybe my new interest in following the success of these new talented performers is because I know them. The familiarity makes attending a show much more meaningful. It's kind of like watching sports for me. I'm only a big fan when I'm watching my kids on the field. 

Summer Classes

It wouldn't feel like summer if I wasn't spending a few days driving to Johnston for continuing ed classes. This year, I decided to take a class called "Celebrating Diversity: Latino Culture" figuring that it would help me understand the lives and backgrounds of my hispanic students.  Driving to Johnston 6 days in a row has been a bummer, but getting 3 graduate credits makes it worth it. The instructor told us this class is "experiential" which is an understatement. In addition to guest speakers and projects, the group is bussed all over Des Moines to eat at authentic mexican restaurants and shop at hispanic markets. I never thought I could get tired of eating Mexican food, but I'm on my third day of puffy hands and heartburn. After this week is over, I may not want anything in a tortilla for a very long time.

Going through the grocery stores was so amazing. I was fascinated as I scanned the package labels and tried to mentally recall spanish I haven't used since college. The meat counter was not for those with weak stomachs. Huge chunks of stinky meat sat unwrapped on the counter in a small neighborhood market, and even the larger supermercado had chicken feet (claws included) and beef tongue! After seeing that, living as a vegetarian seemed entirely do-able.

I have two more "experiential" assignments to complete...look up some facts about Carmen Miranda and do a creative presentation with members of my group; and prepare an authentic latino dish for a fiesta on Saturday. So tonight I am searching online for cactus salad recipes (seriously! ) and trying to figure out what I have around the house that might resemble a turban or fruit headdress for my group's informercial in the morning. Maybe I should make a run to the store for some extra Tums while I'm at it.

Our Anniversary

Yesterday, Perry and I celebrated our 22nd anniversary. It was a nearly child-free weekend, as Joe was out of town visiting friends and Sam went to Grandparent-Grandchild camp with my parents. How did we begin this memorable day? By doing Sam's paper route !

When Sam realized he'd have to miss a day of paper delivering, he tried to line up a sub, but everyone he called was unavailable. When Sam started this route a year ago, I insisted that this would be HIS job. I wasn't going to be one of those parents who is regularly seen driving their vehicle along the child's route or adding "assistant paper carrier" to their job description. I prefer to offer my support behind the scenes. Perry doesn't share my hang-up about this and suggested that we help Sam out this weekend. 

So, we got up bright and early and I dressed for the paper route...sweats, ballcap, sunglasses, and no make up. After all, no one would be seeing me, right? Perry and I loaded the papers...he took the big canvas paperboy bag and I handled the extras in a Fareway sack. We hopped on our bikes and pedaled off. The first street actually went pretty well. Perry and I divided the houses and efficiently zipped up and down the driveways. It was a bit tricky to get on and off a bike near each house's front step.  Once my bike crashed to the ground, tearing my capris when my seat and pant leg seemed to be attached. I had to remind Perry that a good paper-boy really shouldn't swear outside customers' homes just because he is struggling to balance a paper bag while steering a bike. 

My plan to stay in-cognito didn't last very long, as it seemed to be the day for everyone in that neighborhood to go outside and personally greet the paper carrier. Perry felt chatty and stopped to visit with two of Sam's customers, but I preferred to keep my baseball cap tipped low and keep going, because by then the rain had started.

As we finished the route I was relieved to see that the number of papers matched the houses we had on the list. We got home, dried off, and made plans to celebrate properly by going out to dinner that evening. Most people spend their anniversary reliving memories of past years, but leave it to us to create an unlikely new one.

Sock Soup

Each morning, I get up early and spend a little time with Joey before he leaves for work. He has a summer job doing field work for Monsanto.

This morning, I opened the door to the garage and spotted one of the most disgusting things I've seen in awhile... a huge pile of socks that were black and soggy. Dozens of what used to be white socks,....undoubtedly saved up from long hot days in muddy farm fields. My throat slammed shut, and as I turned away to shut the door, I was thankful for an empty stomach. The question I asked was stupid, from a college boy's perspective. Joey replied matter of factly, "They were in the trunk of my car."

Moms like me recognize teachable moments, and this morning's lesson was "How to Pre-Soak Disgustingly Dirty Items of Clothing" If you drive by my house today, you'll see a large rubbermaid tub of "sock soup" in the driveway. Just roll up your windows and keep going.

20 years ago.....

Tomorrow my oldest son turns 20. It's such a weird feeling for me, to think I'm old enough to have a twenty year old child...to think I've been parenting for 2 decades."It seems like just yesterday" is an over used phrase, but one I'm using a lot as I think back to when Joe was little.

It seems like just yesterday...

He bounced up and down throughout the fireworks display every 4th of July, narrating for us..." Oooh, look! Geen one!  Oooh look, wed one!"

I was clipping coupons and debating the pros and cons of Pampers, Huggies and Luvs diapers. Joey even wore the baby blue Huggies, which was the big thing back then.

He and I would go to weekly play groups with friends of mine and babies his age.  The mommies would drink coffee and chat all morning while the kids played. Many of those kids graduated together last year and have stayed friends throughout their school years.

I was reading Good Night Moon for the umpteenth time while he sat on the potty chair.

I watched Mtv during middle of the night feedings, rocking him to the sound of Guns-n-Roses singing, Sweet Child of Mine.

We went to parent child storytime at the library for fingerplays and picture books, followed by a trip to the bakery for a treat. Come to think of it, we started going to storytimes in the "old library" even BEFORE the Ericson library built its large addition and renovated its children's department. We went to the bakery when it was still located where the Purple Crow gift shop is now.

I took him to preschool when Small Miracles was still at the Central Christian Church.

I bought his clothes from Kelly's Kids. - adorable one piece rompers and overalls with colorful appliques and personalized with his name. Many play group moms like me even bought coordinated mommy outfits. Urg.

Last night we watched the fireworks without him, as he was out of town for the holiday. When we got home, I saw that I had a text from him. It said, "ooh, ahh, red one!" 

He has no idea how much that meant to me.

Superstitions

My life in the summer means high school baseball games almost every night. Our family has been zig-zagging the state over the last 6 weeks, traveling to games as far away as Pella, Knoxville and Carroll; many days leaving Boone mid-afternoon and not getting home until 11:00.

The games have been fun to watch, as the boys are having a good season, and are undefeated (so far) in our conference. It's great to see them playing well, but we know that each night is different. We see many players go from a hitting slump, to a night hitting balls that sends outfielders running to the fence. 

Baseball is truly a game of inches, and it's amazing how "mental" it can be. The boys often feel baffled as to the reason they are hitting well, or striking out repeatedly. Each player stands at the plate and has to "read" the ball as it comes out of the pitcher's hand, deciding in less than a split second if he are going to swing or not. Position of the hips, elbows, and shoulders also affect whether the hit will be an easy-to-field grounder, a lazy fly to the outfield, or a squarely hit ball that burns past the short-stop. All outside edges of the strike zone get pitched to, and it's easy for the guys to fall victim to curve balls and change-ups. 

With all those tiny little details to attend to, I see my son, his team-mates, and even the dads in the bleachers become superstitious. After a good night at the plate, they attempt to keep the luck going by wearing the same t-shirt, parking their car in a certain spot, or some other silly little ritual. Ben played with a sore wrist one day, so he had it wrapped with athletic tape. He hit the ball unusually well that game, so I wasn't surprised to see his wrist taped for several days after that.  I usually roll my eyes at these quirky behaviors, and prefer to shoot up a silent prayer each time Ben goes up to bat. A week or so ago, even I got sucked into this superstitious thinking. 

One day, in an effort to be a good mom, I got organized and prepared a big mid-day meal. Since we're gone every night, it's impossible to cook a healthy evening meal and we live on sandwiches and fast food. That day, Ben went off to his game fortified with homemade ham balls and cheesy potatoes, and he slammed the ball to the outfield nearly every time he went to bat. I was so happy for him, but silently crediting his success to the hearty pre-game meal I'd prepared. For the next several days, my faulty thinking kept me as busy as a farm wife at harvest time, slaving away to make a meal that would stick to Ben's ribs and help him  be successful at his game.

Well...as you probably predicted, there wasn't any power in the ham balls after all... or enchilada casserole, meat loaf, or chicken fettuccine alfredo. Ben's performance at his games is only a product of his motivation, mental focus and a variety of small adjustments in his batting stance and swing. 

Today I'm making french dip sandwiches for lunch...only because I want the whole family to have something nutritious before we drive to Norwalk. Ben has my prayers, and beyond that, he doesn't need my help out there.

Doggy Dental Work

The other day, I took the dogs for their regular yearly check ups. After the necessary vaccinations, heartworm tests & Heartguard medicine, I got out the checkbook and braced myself to hear the total.  Apparently, it would be only a subtotal, because the doctor noticed that Buddy's gums were swollen and inflamed, and it was likely he would need to have teeth extracted. She recommended that he come in for a thorough cleaning, which is done under general anesthetic.

Sighing, I realized that it was the right thing to do for dear old Buddy, and I decided to make the appointment for the doggy dental work and get it over with.

On Thursday, I reluctantly delivered him to the vet clinic at the appointed time. Then I watched the clock until they called a few hours later to tell me he was awake from the anesthesia, and doing well. During the procedure, they found that five of his front teeth were extremely loose and had to be pulled. The doctor also removed a mass of some kind from his gums and it was recommended it be sent to a lab for biopsy to determine whether the lump is cancerous. As they tallied the grand total and I got out the check book, I sighed, convincing myself that having the lump tested for cancer was the right thing to do.

So... several hundred dollars later, I drove home with poor Buddy beside me, looking drunk. He leaned precariously on the seat with his eyelids at half-mast, until he finally drooped over and slept the rest of the way home. The poor little guy is a bit funny looking anyway, with no tail and mismatched eyes. Now he is missing the bottom row of front teeth, and eating with his sore mouth requires more effort and tongue visibility than it used to.  He requires soft food for a few days, so I've even been making him scrambled eggs each morning!

Yes, I am a hopeless animal lover, and would do about anything for my pets. I know that part of being a pet owner is spending money on vet care. It's a little depressing, however, to think about the money we've spent on dental care, yet none of the humans in the family have been to the dentist yet this summer!