Halloween happiness

Quick check in.

One just got a phone call from a boy in his class to meet at a park about 2 miles away and play some football. (this boy lives nearby the park). One agreed to go and asked if he could ride his bike. This may seem like such a simple thing, but for my tentative boy, this is huge. We reviewed the route and I asked him to call me on my cell phone when he got there. And off he went. I fretted until he called 12 minutes later to tell me he made it. I said, "have a great time honey! I love you!" and he hung up.

I'm so happy for him to make some new friendships and branch out a little in the world.

Dear anybody and everybody else

Hey y'all,

Don't be sad if I didn't write you your very only letter on this blog.  I'll be happy to.  Just leave a comment, and I'll get right on it.

We had a sweet weekend full of nice moments and a bit of sadness too chez mooncrawl.  The boys were off from school on Thursday and Friday, and I decided not to work.  I had a very lovely time with them (that is, when they weren't in a fistfight and I wasn't screaming at them to stop). On Thursday, we went to the outlet mall in Johnson Creek to purchase some clothing.  Back-to-school shopping in October.  Why, you ask?  Well, I have decided that it's now too cold for One to continue to wear shorts, and he needs some proper pants that fit him.  Now he is outfitted with "skinny jeans", dark wash doncha know.  I am of the mindset not to argue with my children about what they wear to school.  As long as it doesn't have holes in it and is clean (enough), I let them wear what they want.  Anyhow, they twisted my arm to get them an ice cream cone from McDonalds in Lake Mills, and we meandered home on rural highways and byways from there.  We were in good moods and were being silly together on the drive home.  A simple moment, but one I cherish.

On Friday, we joined the rest of Madison to participate in the downtown halloween activities.  We met our friends down there (one of my best buddies and her three - all similar age to my three) for lunch, and then waited, impatiently, for the 2 pm start.  As soon as the clock struck 2 pm, My One and Two and L's One took off down the street, bopping into store after store grabbing candy.  Only problem was that they didn't get permission to go ahead AND they were going the wrong direction.  We decided to follow behind, hoping they would wait for us, but nope.  They were gone.  Vanished in the sea of thousands (probably hundreds, but for the sake of the story, let's stretch it).  My emotions went from worried to angry pretty quickly.  After 30 minutes or so, they found us.  I laid into my boys - threatened to not allow them to go trick or treating on Halloween if they pulled that stunt again - and we continued on.

That night, I met some ladies out for drinks and food.  Though here's the strange part, half of them didn't eat.  I was looking at this crowd - a group I don't regularly go out with - and I thought, "man, they are all very skinny.  Like model skinny.  Like unhealthy skinny."  So I suppose I wasn't that surprised when they didn't eat.  But really?  I don't get it.  Who goes out to have a drink and eat and then not eat?  Certainly not me.  By 9 pm, the non-eaters were done (probably too famished to stay awake any longer) so L and I went to a movie.  We saw One Day, which I had also read.  It was as I expected - good enough for the cheap theater.

Saturday, Two had a flag football tournament.  This is his team's third time in the tournament, and it's the third time they came in 2nd place.  I'm pleased to report that Two didn't seem bothered by this at all.  Sounds like all of the kids on the team were in good spirits about their second place status.  I wasn't there, however, as I was at my cousin's husband funeral.  I haven't mentioned this situation before.  He died unexpectedly, though he did have many health complications.  I am very sad for my cousin and their 17 year old daughter.  He died in September while visiting his parents in Washington, and his memorial service was here on Saturday.  It was lovely.  My cousin did a wonderful job pulling it together.  She had the musician from my grandmother's funeral perform, and he (as you may remember) is a very soulful and beautiful musician.  My little cousin's choir from her school also sang, and there were many sweet stories shared about S.  It was a beautiful tribute and I learned so much about S that I didn't know beforehand.  Just like I love a good obit, I also love a good funeral.  This one was good.

Last night, Bob and I had a date here at home.  The kids were here too, but we just decided to ignore them.  Well, actually, they were outside playing football in the dark, so we watched PBS American Masters - the one about The Troubadour and James Taylor and Carole King.  It was great.  (We were hoping to watch the Pearl Jam episode but that's not available yet online.  Love Pearl Jam.  Love, love, love.)  After a while, the kids wandered in and joined us and watched along with us, wondering how old these people are and are they still alive? and why does their music sound like that?   There was a comment in the episode about how the singer/songwriter phenomenon happened when it felt like the country was in a bit of an ugly standstill - stuck in a war they didn't like, bad economy, no new direction in music.  I looked at Bob and said, "sounds familiar."

Sunday, today, was cold and rainy and low key.  Two was sore from all of his football playing, so he didn't move much.  The Packers had a bye week, so we didn't really know what to do with ourselves.  Bob went outside to look at his newly completed yard projects (more on that later).  I folded the laundry.  We carved pumpkins.  Bob and Two had their date, and I took Three and One to Target to do some shopping, including buying another SD memory card.  Wondering why there haven't been photos lately?   That's what happens when you grab the memory card out of the slot and don't put it somewhere safe.

Off to bed now.  I'm not really looking forward to tomorrow.  Strike that, I'm looking forward to tomorrow, trick-or-treating, being over.  It's cold and nerve-wracking (who is going to run into the street in front of a car?) and there is so much expectation about getting all of this teeth rotting candy that there are bound to be tears at some point.

Dear Green Girl

Dear Green Girl,

And now, a post to my other faithful reader/commenter. Hello there, Green Girl. I am so impressed with your 3k running time. At my fastest, which was admittedly very slow, you could have lapped me. Well, not white, but trust me - you are much faster.

I just read a book you recommended. The Year We Left Home by Jean Thompson. I really enjoyed it. I love books set in the Midwest, since, you know, I'm a Midwest gal myself. I love family sagas that span many years. I wish I could have gotten to hear more of the mother's voice, and I was sad that she died off of our watch. She was fascinating from afar. I also wanted to get to know Torrie as an adult - again hear her voice, hear what she thought of herself as a teenager. Thanks for the recommendation.

Last night I was cleaning up a mess that I wonder just happens in a house overrun by boys, as is my house, as is your house. My Two was grabbing something out of the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and he knocked a jar of fingernail polish into the sink where it promptly broke open and splattered all over everything. Bright pink all over my white tiled floor, toilet, sink. Two was apologetic and it wasn't his fault really< but these boys... Like bulls in a china shop. I love them all like crazy, of course, but I do crave a space - even a corner- that is mine and not overrun by chaos and boy-smell. Do you have such a space?

One has a birthday coming up. He will be 11. He has opted out of a birthday party the last couple of years (which has made me sad and worried) but perhaps another sign that life has shifted into a better, happier place for him, he wants one this year. And he seems to be making up for lost time. He is inviting 10 boys to do laser tag and the (gasp) sleepover here. 10 boys plus my 3 equals a long, loud night. Any tips for me? Have you ever hosted such a bash? My hope is that some of them will not be able to stay the night.

Time to wake my chickadees up and get the morning show on the road. I've gotten accustomed to waking up about an hour before I have to wake them up. I sometimes work out during this time, but I also just enjoy the still, quiet house. Maybe this is my corner.

I so enjoy your blog. Have a great day. Sorry autumn (not your fav) has turned ugly. Put on your favorite sweater, drink some tea, and don't look outside.

:) Teresa

Dear Stephanie

Hello there new (but you feel like old) (and I mean that in a good way- really the best way possible) friend. You asked how I made my blog look like this. I truly have no idea. I clicked on some button last week sometime and I haven't figured out how to undo it. Which I'm sort of tempted to do. But you like it? Well, maybe I won't be in such a hurry to figure out how to change it.

I was thinking about you today, otherwise known as errand day. I wondered if I would run into you at Target or Woodmans. I also thought about how crafty and clever you are. Does that sound too stalkerish? I really need to watch that.

Anyway, you sweetly said you missed my words. I got a say, I miss blogging too. I'm trying to figure out what is to blame for my absence. The best I can come up with is football season, which has, thankfully, ended - at least tackle football. Three nights of sitting at the practice field for 2 hours adds up to a lot of reading time but not much time for other things - like blogging, or folding clothes, or spending time with my other children. I sort of took tackle-practice duty because my One has really struggled with his anxiety around it and my Bob doesn't do well in those situations. Good to recognize the strengths and weaknesses in a partnership, yes?

I have been pretty vague about One's Anxieties, to protect his privacy, but in the interest of recording this for my future reference, I will say that his suicide talk has all but ended (thank God) but the negative talk ("I hate my life", "I hate this so much", etc) continues. I'm taking that as progress and I'm really hammering home on "staying positive". If nothing else, I'm hoping he will quit the negativity just to get me to shut up.

One last comment about One. He has been on a real high ever since his season ended. We didn't let him quit, despite his many, many requests. We have heaped on the praise for making it to the end, and he is giddy. I am so glad we trusted our instincts to make him stick it out, though there were many nights I thought, "oh, just let him quit - it will be so much easier". That said, I did tell him he could opt out of his last practice because I was just so sick of the fight. Couldn't stand one more minute of it, really, so I gave him the go ahead to skip it. And you know what happened? He ended up going. Once I took away the pressure to go, he realized he really wanted to do it after all. He's a tricky one, that One.

And now my time is up. I have dishes to unload and wash (made cookies this afternoon for the first time in forever), clothes to get out of the drier, and work to go to. I would love to get together. Did I ever tell you how much my Two loved your Ruby at her birthday party? I know - months ago. Just forgot to tell you all along.

I hope you had a great weekend with your people.

:) Teresa

partnership, yes?

Test

the update

Last we left each other, I was about to bike down to check on my three 8 years old whom I sent down to the school playground.  Let's pick up there...

So, I grab my dog and hop on my bike, armed with gaterades and prepared to find these 3 cuties having a great time at the playground.  I wonder, as I bike, would they be doing the monkey bars?  Maybe the swings.  Or, maybe they lucked out and a ball was left out and they would be playing kickball.  

I pull up and the playground is suspiciously quiet and empty.  "Shit, where are they?" I wonder.  I slowly bike by, looking for the scooters, listening for their voices, but it was a ghost town.  Crickets chirping.  Tumbleweeds blowing.  

Are you with me?

I bike around the neighborhood, looking at the beach, going along the bay (maybe they took the scenic route home?), squiggling through the streets on the way home.  "Ah, I know!  I missed them on the bike ride there.  They are probably waiting for me on our front deck."

I get home and nothing.  Nada.  No cute boys.  No scooters haphazardly thrown on the grass.  

I start to sweat.  Did I mention that they new friend's father is a police officer?  This is not the conversation I want to have with a police officer.

I decide to take the car and drive around looking for them.  I go back to the usual spots and try a few more.  I drive past 2 houses that house trampolines in their backyards.  I don't get out because I don't see the tell-tale scooters in the front yards, but I slowly case the joints, listening for jumping, yelling, laughing.  

I get angry.  I get worried.  I craft my scolding.  I decide upon punishment.  I see a neighbor and ask him to keep an eye out.  I return home - no boys.  I have now been looking for 30 minutes.  I check the answering machine and hear a message from new friend's mom.  "Hi!  Just checking in!  We'll head on over to pick our boy up in a few minutes."

Shit. 

So, I take a deep breath and call them with the news.  "I am embarrassed to admit this but I don't know where the boys are.  Just so you know I've never lost any kids before."  

"We'll find 'em," Mr. Police Officer responds.  We exchange cell phone numbers and he sets off to my house.  I call the other boy's mom.  I quickly run down the situation and ask her what she thinks.  She suspects the trampoline houses and offers to go there to look for them.

I nervously pace the house.  I sweep.  I dust.  I look out the door, down the street.  I watch the clock.  

Phone rings.  It's Mr. Police Officer.  "We got 'em."  

Turns out they got thirsty and crossed the street to the neighborhood coffee shop to get some water.  (This must have been when I biked past.)  They left the coffee shop and went around the corner to the neighborhood beach, where they played on the sand.  They were happily scootering along home, oblivious that they were "lost".  

I eat crow in front of new friend's family, apologizing for the trouble and freaking out.  I chastise Two for not sticking to the plan (to school and to home - nowhere else).  I sheepishly ask if new friend could come back to play again someday.  "Next time with a little bit better supervision, haha," I say.

******

This morning, after the dust settled, I decided to have a little stranger-danger review with my Two.  We laid in bed and strategized how he should respond if some creepo approached him with candy, or a request to help him find a lost puppy, or the line that "your mom sent me to bring you home."  I reminded him to consider if it makes sense that a strange adult would ask him to help him find a missing dog.  "Would I do that if Dash ran away - ask some random kid to help me?"  "No, mom!" he responded.  We talked about that next time he should wear a watch and come home at a specific time.  That he cannot go anywhere we don't decide upon ahead of time.  That maybe he could even take my phone so we can be in touch with each other.  

******

In the end, I am glad it unfolded the way it did, even if new friend's parents think I'm the flakiest parent.  I believe age 8 is ok to give a little taste of freedom in the world.  In the end, no harm was done and some lessons were reinforced.  

Hello Palestine...

Unfortunately, I can't say that much longer.  Those of you who aren't my facebook friends (and perhaps even those who are - damn new layout) don't know the latest in my brother's situation in Palestine.  Briefly, congress has decided to cease a lot of funding (like, hundreds of millions of dollars) in aid to Palestine in response to Palestine requesting to be recognized as an official state in the eyes of the UN.  Quite the F You, if you ask me.  So, this means my brother's program, and his position, is over at the end of this month.  I feel so badly for him, since he worked so hard to get there and wanted it so badly.  Also, I am totally bummed because this time I was not going to miss the opportunity to visit him overseas.  Now, of course, this time I am missing it again.

I have yet to talk with him about this, which feels weird but of course totally to be expected, given the time difference and busy schedules.  I have read between the lines of his email to me and have decided that he is disappointed, of course, but not devastated.  At least, that's the spin I (protective and worrysome big sister) am putting on it.

Since I started this post two days ago, Mark, my bro, has put together an eloquent and lovely blog posting about this and other important events that have happened in his life lately.  Feel free to check that out, at Unimposssible Life Blog.  You know this because I've said it over and over again, but I (proud and boastful big sister) love his writing.

*********************

In other news, we have continued to have full and busy lives, mainly surrounding football - Tackle for One and Flag for Two.  Much to say about both experiences, but briefly, it has been an exciting season full of angst and anxiety and injuries, peppered in moments of fun (for One), and long runs and touchdowns and good-ole fun (for Two).  Needless to say, we are again examining whether One will return to this sport next year.  Perhaps not...

Three has opted out of playing football and seems rather disinterested in the sport as a whole.  He said to me this morning, while finishing up watching One's game and preparing to drive over to see the rest of Two's game, "I wish I only had one brother so I didn't have to watch more football!"  I think we've inadvertently and successful killed his desire to play.  He has mentioned soccer a few times, so maybe that will be his sport.  Works better, really, with his Italian name, so I'm in favor.

This is how Three spends his time at the football games:

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I'm working 27.5 hours/week now (27 one week, 28 the next).  I work late Mondays one week and Tuesdays the next, but I am able to pick the kiddos up after school on Monday (I work from 3:30 - 7:30 pm).  The point in all of this detail is that

a.  I am grateful to have a job in something that I like and am trained to do, and
b.  I am grateful for the flexibility to work mainly when my kids are in school so that I see them most nights (9 out of 10) after school, but
c.  I am feeling a bit pinched for my time.  I would sort of dig having a day to myself to clean the house and meet a friend for lunch and even sit in my (newly) clean house and read a book.  But, there just aren't enough hours in the week to make that happen.

I know I will feel better about things once I adjust to the new schedule.  I also know that once football ends in a couple of weeks, I'll be more relaxed.  Rushing off to football practice 3 nights/week makes things a but crazed most nights.

All of that said, I will add that I applied for a new job last week.  It's part-time (20 hours/week) with the State, not exactly doing what I have been trained to do ("social worker" is not listed anywhere on the job description) but one where I could use my skills.  The job itself sounds a little dry and paperwork-y, but it's permanent, with benefits.  And as you probably remember from my ongoing complaints, I am still considered a "provisional" employee at my current job.

10 months in and still provisional.  I do the most work of the 3 of us hired, I see the most clients, but I am still considered provisional and therefore do not have benefits, including earned time off.  I know there are budget problems that are not getting any easier, but I am feeling myself getting a little bitter about it (does it show?).

So, I thought I'd throw my name at this new job and see what happens.  What I would prefer is to somehow become permanent at my current gig.  We'll see...

************************

Two has 2 buddies over and I sent them down the street to the school playground to play, sans adult supervision.  Three eight year olds wandering the streets of Madison.  Good idea?  I think about my childhood and how that was totally ok.  I consider the threat of harm.  Someone could fall down and hurt themselves.  They could get thirsty.  I doubt they will be abducted - all three of them together.  There are no busy streets to cross and the weather is perfectly delightful.  However, all of that said, I think I will bike on down with Dashy dog now and bring them some Gaterades and make sure they are all still alive and not abducted or bleeding or lying on the ground in dehydration.  Plus, what a great day!  Perfect excuse for a little dog-n-me bike ride.