Five Minutes of “Small Talk” with Bean

9 Jul

Our conversation only lasted for about five minutes but Nia sure did cover a range of thoughtful and complex topics.

The bulk of the chat revolved around an experience she had a camp.

“When we were at the pool, there was a man with one leg there. One of the boys in my group was staring and making a big deal about it. As the man was taking off his leg to get in the pool the boy said ‘I can’t watch!’ like it was gross to him. I told him he should stop staring and saying that because it was disrespectful.”

I told Nia I was proud of her for trying to teach the right thing and explained that many kids – heck, even adults – will stare because they aren’t sure how to react when someone isn’t just like them. I told her one of our friends or family members could have something that makes them different/special – or even us – and how would we feel. She remembered the time we saw a man with no arms below the elbows and how he was still carrying snacks and a drink and had his little girl on his lap. She said, “It was amazing all that he was doing.”

From there, the topic of praying came up because we talked about praying for people to be ok and treat others kindly. She told me she thought it was nice to pray for others and not herself. She said, “I already pray that no catastrophes will happen to the world again because I don’t want people to get hurt or die. When I am scared that a tornado may come, I pray quietly and then I feel calm because it feels like we will be ok. I never pray for toys.”

I wonder if she prays for piano lessons though because that was the next topic. “Did you call about me getting piano lessons today?” I told her I sent an email with questions. “Did you send that email during work? Is that ok to do? You used to be able to do that at your old job. Do you remember when I came to your old work and sat behind you? I drew that picture for Tracy. I wonder if Tracy will always keep that.” I told her I wasn’t sure and that I got to talk to Tracy today. That made Nia happy.

“What about Ashley and Erika?”

“Yes,” I told her, “I still talk to them. In fact, those girls and mommy’s friends Marcy and Courtney are planning to come and visit us at the end of the month.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Girl stuff – for 21 years and up.”

“You could go to the movies. You could go see Madagascar 3 or Brave. I think that’s PG-13.”

Five minutes of chatting that I will always cherish. I hope my words will stay with Nia, “You have such a caring and considerate heart, Bean. Please don’t ever change it. Keep it safe.”

“Also, my age means I can see R-rated movies too.”

Our Trip to C-Town

26 Jun

There’s a lot of space under that bed …

“I’m not going to Crazy Town tonight,” Andrew told me as we settled in our beautiful, historic room at the John Rutledge House Inn for the weekend.

I had just asked him to look under the bed to make sure nobody (or ghost body) was under there.

Not even in Charleston, SC for 30 minutes and I’m already testing his reasons for marrying me almost 12 years ago. Fitting, because this trip was serving as the honeymoon we’ve never taken. Two days after we were married, Andrew left for six weeks of training in California. Then, a few resting months after that, he deployed for six months to Kosovo. After that, we set off together to buy a house and have a baby and then another deployment to Iraq and well, 12 years later, here we are in Crazy Town.

We wanted to go somewhere within reasonable driving distance, somewhere we’d never been and somewhere featuring one of our favorite things, good beer. Charleston was hosting a beer festival during the weekend our children would be in West Virginia with family so it was on.

We enjoyed our drive there and back. It featured discussions about General Sherman burning stuff (forever an inside joke between us now), me reading us history facts about Charleston, and talk radio by the megabyte that Andrew has stored on his phone.

10 and 2

We didn’t arrive at the Inn until midnight but enjoyed goofing off in the ballroom for a minute and sampling the complimentary brandy and sherry.

Statue Pose

The next morning, we ran through the city before others were awake and garbage was collected. The streets felt like ours for a few minutes and a few blocks. We talked when I could (I was running after all) and spotted incredible buildings and stores we might be interested in checking out during our later walk. We even ran alongside rivers where they meet up near a beautiful park.

After our run, we had a delicious breakfast of our choosing brought to our room. It was glorious. We filled out a card and put it on the doorknob before we fell asleep each night. We didn’t skimp on our selection.

Bedroom Breakfast

We loved our walks through downtown – even a painfully long one for me in flats and at high noon when we missed the trolley to the beer fest. This 2+ mile walk came after our 4+ mile morning run and 2+ morning stroll. We needed that brew.

Cheers, we made it!

We arrived at the fest excited to sample and enjoy. It wasn’t exactly what we were expecting but we still had a great time with each other. We talked with people and devoured cheese fries and then decided to head back to our room early – in a taxi. (Best $8 of the trip.)

We had plans to dine somewhere fancy that evening. I even packed a strapless dress and heels, ready to hit the night life. Only thing – we decided to rest for a bit. That was around 6:30. We woke up around 9:30, too zonked to move out of bed.

The next morning, Andrew went for a solo run while I sank deeper into the heavenly memory foam mattress because I hadn’t changed positions much through the night. We enjoyed another bedroom breakfast and then walked next door to go to church.

Rolled out of bed and into church

Up for another stroll, we set off for more exploring and I’m so glad we did. We discovered a large market area and bought treasures for the kids. After a good early bird (without the discount) dinner, we headed home, feeling content and so lucky to have been able to spend that time together – even if it neared Crazy Town for a bit. Besides, I think he already agreed to go there with me when he said “yeah, sure” at the altar.

Time to start thinking about our next trip …

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Recital Night Notes

12 Jun

After three years of being an unofficial dance mom, you’d think I’d have the tricks for a double recital (about 8 hours in performance mode) down a little better. These are some of my notes from this year to help me for next:

  • Many moms use clothing racks to wheel all their child’s costumes and keep them crisp and easy to sort through during the quick changes. I use one hanger. One hanger for four costumes, a t-shirt and shorts. I’m thinking about getting a rack if Nia’s costume supply grows. Also, if for nothing else, to reserve our spot in the dressing room. Which brings me to the next thing …
  • Racks are the boss. I had Nia’s costumes and accessories all nicely waiting in a small spot near her other dancing buds. I got there earlier than half the room to make sure I’d have a space because I stress about this. I get anxious. (I’m weird about crowds and having an area to work.) Well, a mom who was armed with a rack big enough for three girls’ fancies parked right in front of Nia’s things. I got a little flustered but handled it as “me” as I could. “Um, excuse me. Let me just grab our things … (mumble) that were already here and ready to go …” I probably still won’t get a rack but even if I did, I wouldn’t use it to shove others around.
  • I missed the memo about good snack ideas. Pringles seem to be the chip of choice. I’m thinking it has to do with the tube to prevent crumbs during transit and dressing turmoil. Nia didn’t seem to mind that she was pretty much the only one without the tube of salty crunchies. After all, I couldn’t find Pringles dill pickle chips. I just dumped the dill pickle chips I did have in a plastic container. Voilá. My version of the tube. I will remember grapes and cheese squares next year though. Chippies make for a great mood changer treat but healthy is best!
  • Kind of in line with moods, baby wipes are a must next year for erasing makeup smudges after the very tired performer understandably gets emotional because “I need more lipstick!” or “People are stepping on my blanket!” or “My feet hurt!” (Nia held it together without tears but I want to be prepared.) The outbursts I did witness are quite comical to me because they are usually over nothing and the drama is so overboard only the Coast Guard with a helicopter rope could rescue it from sinking. Or maybe chips …
  • I need to remember slippers and a robe or a wrap to help with Nia’s privacy concerns and comfort.
  • For goodness sakes mom (me) remember the dang body spray glitter! All the girls sparkle with it and it seems like the amount of glitter on both mom and daughter the next morning is directly related to amount of fun had the night before.
  • Bring the makeup remover with us so Nia doesn’t look like an underage college student after a night of hitting bars that don’t card. Also, to help keep her eyes from swelling shut due to sensitivity to the stuff that shouldn’t be on her face yet. Remove it ASAP!
  • This one I don’t really have to remind myself about but I want to always remember that in the craziness of the night, keep my smile and let the happy tears fall, cherishing these years of watching her grow into a young lady. I love being able to give her special one-on-one attention and praise. I want to always be her biggest fan and source of encouragement – and, of course, ready with her emergency dance chips.

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You Shine, I Smile (And Cry)

6 Jun

Will I always cry when you shine on stage, Bean? Tonight, during your third year of recital dress rehearsals, as usual, I couldn’t hold back the tears.

You look so grown up. You look so happy. You look beautiful. You impress me.

I’m so proud of you for remembering all of the routines. (Four this year with ballet, jazz, tap and clogging.) You worked hard all year to get those dances down and were brave to try out clogging before you even knew what it was. Turns out, you truly shine when you clog. I can tell you are having so much fun. My heart is overjoyed. Thank you for giving it a try and for never giving up when you messed up or felt a little tired. My emotions surrender to your spirit. And, your quick-stepping shoes.

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Restroom Stall Life Lessons

6 Jun

“Mommy, someone wrote ‘I hate myself’ in the restroom stall at camp. Why would they write that – and why would they write it on the stall?”

Such heavy questions weighed on me as I tucked Nia in and began her usual bedtime comfort ritual.

I tried my best to explain that sometimes people get really sad and they let those sad feelings change how they see themselves and how others see them. It was their way of letting out their sadness.

“That’s not good, but why write that on the stall?”

“When people are really sad like that they don’t always think clearly or worry about doing the right thing.”

I told her that I hoped she never feels that way and to always remember that her family loves her and is here for her – no matter if we argue or if things don’t seem to be going her way. She seemed happy with that and I was able to continue on with the night-night necessities of prayers, the classical music CD, legs rubbed and, the one thing I would love for Bean to always do before falling asleep each night, thoughts about all the happy things that happened that day or are ahead.

She rests her innocent heart so much better by focusing her mind on something positive and peaceful. It also gives me a chance to hear what made her happy during the day or what she’s looking forward to that week. Sometimes, we have some really good conversations during this time – me sitting next to a snuggled Bean, talking quietly in her dark, rainbow night-light room.

I hope if she ever has feelings for a restroom stall, she’ll remember our “happy things” time and talk with me instead.

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Reckless Bidder

3 Jun

Lesson learned. Although, it’s a lesson I should have already known really.

If you don’t have a way to get it home, don’t buy it. Especially when you’re trying to get a deal. Renting a truck or paying for delivery would defeat the entire score.

Silly me to think that someone else would outbid my $100 for a large octagon-shaped wood table and chairs at a recent auction. Silly.

Andrew would likely use a different word to describe my action but he’s known me for some years now so there are things he’s used to – like how to react when I text him that I spent money on something that we don’t need and I can’t drive it home in my car – or his. He texts back, “Ok. Now what? We don’t have a truck.”

My response: “I know this.”

He can tell I’m now both stressed about my reckless purchase and unhappy with his response to my buyer’s remorse.

“We can strap it to the roof?”

“Yes.”

“Take a picture so I can see what I’m dealing with.”

Minutes later, he calls me and tells me he has a master plan.

Minutes after that, he pulls up to the auction in our neighbor’s pickup truck. (Rescued by dear friends!)

I can tell he doesn’t love (or even like) the table but he is a good friend and comedian and pokes fun at me by saying things like, “I had to be the guy who borrows his neighbor’s truck.” And something about “putting the cart before the horse.”

Now that it’s in our house, I’m not even sure I love it but it did help that after a few hours of it in its new spot, Andrew told me he thinks it’s a nice addition. (Even after all the jokes.)

Sold! – to the person who can’t get it home!

I have high hopes of refinishing it and then having it for a game/puzzle table. Eventually, when the next age group of “toys” replace the ones that live in our family room now, we will have a bar and finally hang my stained glass poker-table light that I’ve had for years to spice it up some.

In the meantime, I’m thinking we need to invest in a truck. I wonder if any are being auctioned …

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Lost in Translation

1 Jun

This isn’t a post about the health politics surrounding the packaged and bottled temptations whose fate is determined by the small fingers holding a few dollars and punching a letter/number button combination. It’s obvious by this post that I don’t forbid my children from standing on the other side of those temptations and waiting in anticipation for the coil to force their selection to them.

However, I only give my kids the resources to do this once a week at camp – on Fridays. Also, I’ve told them not to push the button that would release the caffeine to them. I’ve guided them toward healthier (because nothing is really healthy in there) choices but I let them decide for themselves. I do check up on them though. What did they enjoy? Tonight’s conversation really pushed my giggle button but I made like a defective machine and kept my laugh trapped to not embarrass Nate.

Me: “What did you pick from the vending machine at camp today?”

Nia: “Fruit punch, a cinnamon roll and some candy for my friend.” (I love that she shared her money but I hope her friend’s mom isn’t anti-snack machine. Oh boy.)

Me: “Nate, what did get from the vending machine?”

Nate: “Vending machine? Is that Spanish for snack machine?”

He was so serious and curious. What is this “vending machine” you speak of? Although, part of me wonders if he was just distracting me from what he did buy – a Powerade, a doughnut and hot fries. Glad I only give them money on Friday. I may have to cut it down to $2 … and a Spanish lesson.

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Sharing Her Wealth

26 May

Dragon Dollars: tokens that praise students for being ready, respectful and responsible. Students are awarded them from any teacher during the school day for doing something that falls in line with those three school character traits.

Did you help another student pick up some papers she dropped? Dragon Dollar. Did you turn your complete homework project in on time? Dragon Dollar. Were you following the rules in the hallway? Dragon Dollar.

Each week, the school would offer a store where students could cash in their well-earned paper Dragons for passes to skip a homework assignment, wear sunglasses, get an ice cream treat or bring a critter (stuffed animal) to school. Students could also save up for special events. Nate used some for ice cream and then 40 to attend his principal’s birthday bash. He was so excited for that. Then, there was Nia. She saved hers – wanting to make sure she’d have enough for the big celebration and raffle at the end of the year.

Nia earned more than 100 dollars over her Third Grade days. She was able to buy the $50 ticket to the Luau and a $50 ticket for the raffle. She was so proud and happy to be one of the few in her class who could afford to buy both.

When the day came, she made her purchases and then saw that one of her classmates was very sad when he learned he didn’t have enough for the luau or raffle. She knew what she had leftover wasn’t going to give him enough for those but, instead of spending her surplus on some extra swag for herself, she gave them to her friend. She says she doesn’t know what he “bought” with them, only that he was happy and thankful.

I was moved by what she did but I wanted to know more. Would she be so giving to someone who wasn’t her friend? Why didn’t the boy have enough Dragons? Did he not follow the rules like she did?

She told me she wouldn’t want to give them to someone who was mean to her. I told her I can understand that but it’s best to always be kind to everyone. She didn’t love this idea because she was thinking about one girl in particular who is mean to her and didn’t want to reward her for that. I can understand that and part of me agrees with her, but I want to teach her to be giving without judgement or preference – something many adults, even myself, find difficult at times.

She explained that the boy behaved, he just always spent his dollars each week, never saving them. This kind of ties in with the giving without judging view. A lot of people feel they shouldn’t give their dollars to someone who isn’t as careful with theirs. She didn’t look at it that way. She saw a friend who was sad and wanted to help.

I want her to always have the giving heart she has, but I also don’t want her to be a pushover. Difficult to teach and live out. I am so proud of her though – for saving her well-deserved dollars and for sharing without someone prompting her. That’s a great start.

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To Remember

16 May

So many times, I just file away certificates or awards that the kids get. I’ve seen ideas on pinterest about cool ways to display kids’ art so that it doesn’t stay hidden, piled in boxes in closets for years. I’ve framed a few of my favorites and always struggle with what to toss and what to preserve. The words on this certificate made it easy for me though. Cherish.

image

I don’t know if Nia will always feel or think as she does now about God and/or religion and that’s ok. I still don’t always know if what I’m feeling or the religion I choose to participate in is “right.” I try to be ever-learning, open-minded and respectful to the thoughts and beliefs of others and that’s what I hope for Nia. To have someone write this about our 9-year-old is something to remember though and gives me hope that she will always be a thoughtful student to others.

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My First Mother’s Day

13 May

I celebrated my first Mother’s Day two Sundays after Nia was born. Andrew couldn’t be with us that day but he made sure to send his two girls a sweet surprise. While in Iraq, before computers and phones were available for soldiers, Andrew found a way to order me my favorite flowers (daisies) and Bean a dog stuffed animal. He had them delivered to our home right on time for Mother’s Day and it made me feel loved, appreciated and connected to him even though we were so far apart and he hadn’t even met our daughter yet.

I found a picture that shows his gifts to us. The dog watched over her on top of her bassinet and the flowers dressed up the table next to her, near the couch where I sat:

Baby Bean with Doggy on her Bassinet

Bean still keeps the doggy close. His nose is worn and he shows her years of hugs and travels. She takes him with her on trips, tucking him in her pillow case and feeling comforted as soon as she snuggles him. She knows that “soldier daddy” got him for her and she cherishes that so sweetly. I know there will be a time when he will be moved to a shelf and then a keepsake box, but right now, nine Mother’s Days later, her special doggy is resting at the top of her bed as she sleeps – watching over her like he did as a baby.

Snuggles Special Doggy

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