Here on the frontier, There are falling leaves, Although my neighbors are all barbarions…And you? You are a thousand miles away. There are always two cups on my table.

Posts tagged ‘parenting’

Children Grow Up

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Can Hoo get more awesome?

Three years old already.

Where does the time go.

The Chef, The Professor and Bart the biofuel guy.3 of my children.

The Chef, The Professor and Bart the biofuel guy.
3 of my children.

Now the big boys.

Yesterday they were kicking each others legos over and fighting like crazy midgets.

Now Chef is a daddy. Professor is soon to be a daddy and Bart is getting married come summer 2013.

Whew it was a long haul with those three plus the girls.

I don’t miss those years.

But being a grandma is quite precious.

I am grateful for every crayoned sticky wrinkled work of art Hoo presents and I hang it proudly on the refrigerator door.

This is gmom,

peace out

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Husband And Wife

Husband took gmom away for an escape to a seaside hotel ala waterfront view. Good food, nice amenities and a jacuzzi.

A lot to be said for stepping out of the fray of home life however brief. It was 48 hours of him and me. Hmmm.

We are a couple that are family centric. Putting out fires continuously with our kids and business. Keeping the American dream in site but damn if it’s always out of reach.

But for 2 days, we slept late, and turned off the phones, did just what we felt felt like.

Watched the water.

The sun setting on the bay.

I found my balance reflected in his eyes and he didn’t flinch or turn away.

My heart beat slow again when I felt his warmth surround me in the night.

This is gmom.

Renewed and a happy camper.

Peace out kids.

By the time a man realizes that maybe his father was right, he usually has a son who thinks he’s wrong. Charles Wadsworth

When China was a little bug, (my daughter not the country), her sleeve caught fire. We were lighting Hannukah candles when she reached over the burning flames. I slapped the burning sleeve out. Husband and I examined her burned sleeve and her arm amazed that the flames never touched her skin.

Something similar happened to Egg, (my second daughter not chicken fetus). We do a lot of candle lighting in our religion. She wanted to blow out the Sabbath candles when her hair caught on fire. My mother standing nearby and I brushed the fire out as fast as it started. Egg was fine.

She turned her 3-year-old self around and smiled at us wondering why we were patting her head. She never knew how close she came to setting herself on fire.

If you are a parent then you know what I’m talking about.

You’ve swept food out of little mouths before they choked. You’ve caught your child mid-fall in the playground and set them on their feet to run and play.

For older kids. We fill the gas tank when we know they are going out. We check the tires. Twice.

The 17-year-old boy that comes to pick up your 14-year-old daughter for a date!?

That boy never makes it in the house! You know what I’m saying?

We watch out for the foreseeable problems our children are headed toward and run interference.

Kids, they are like the quarterbacks running with the ball. They may not see their teammates (parents) behind them tackling the opposing players, but they are there.

Funny. If a touchdown is made they dance around like monkeys. If an opposing team member takes them down they are just as likely to look around at their own team(again,it’s us,parents)  and say, “Where were you guys?”

It’s often a thankless job parenting. Until our kids have children of their own they may never understand why we do what we do.

“I’d catch a grenade for ya, put my hand on a blade for ya..”.  Heard that song?  It shouldn’t be a boyfriend singing to a girl.

It should be the parent’s anthem.

This is gmom.

peace out.

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A Man’s Life

My husband is away.

Doing family business. Kind of heroic stuff. So while I sit home and do my small tasks, go to work, annoy the children, and worry my face into a topographical map. He took matters into his own hands.

He sat in the American Embassy for 8 hours to update his passport in one day at a cost of well….don’t ask.

He bought a ticket out of the country. Remembered his blackberry and my laptop and the boy is gone.

So what is a man’s life anyway.

I’m sitting at his desk. As usual it’s a mess. Little papers with names and numbers, messages scrawled all over it. A filing system I bought him for Father’s day sits unused right next to the monitor. Post it notes stuck to the wall!

Hand sanitizer, a mug one of the kids made eons ago filled with maybe 50 pens, most that don’t work, a calculator. His work jacket sits on the back of the chair smelling of trap grease..and him.

My dog Cujo’s cage sits right by his desk with his jar of treats right on the desk. He hates Cujo.

At least he always says he hates Cujo..

My desk is different.

I dust it.

I have a total of 2 pens and a legal pad.

There’s face cream and an eyebrow tweezers.

A jar of Exedrin and vitamin water.

3 pictures of the children.

My laptop.

Zyrtec.

That’s it.

This isn’t what I thought marriage would be like when I was a little girl running around with a pillow case on my head playing ” getting married”.

I never played “marry” with my girlfriends and said “Let’s pretend we have no money, our houses are too small, our children have problems , our husbands never pick up their dirty clothes and don’t even know how to load a dishwasher…yeah let’s do that!!!”

I never thought “marry” would be a messy desk in my ultra clean home, and a stinky jacket on the back of the chair and dust bunnies underneath the desk that look like shag carpeting in the worst color ever.

When I played “Marry” as a little girl I never fleshed out the guy in the fairytale, he was always an obediant shadow person.. you know a silent partner. I don’t think I even envisioned the guy living in the same house. He just brought a diamond ring and that was about it for his part. Ha!

I never imagined the silent partner would turn out to be my  hero.

This is gmom,

peace out.

 

Sex Offender Registry: Check Out Your Neighborhood Today!

One should feel safe in their own neighborhood, wouldn’t you agree?

 In my zip code there are 157 registered sex offenders.

 People (if you can call them that), that have raped children, hurt them

 sexually and get their nuts off on trading pictures of naked children. 

The second thing that bugs me are the innocent parents who stupidly put their children out on nthe sidewalk hailing down cars to buy a cup of lemonade.

I stopped today by a little girl to buy a cup.

 I never got out of my car. She reached in the car window to hand me the cup.

I held back the the money so she had to reach in again.

I asked her, “If I wanted to know your name, or how old you were or where you lived, what would you say?”

“Well I live right here at 34 Ivy Drive, I’m 8 years old and my name is Emily.”

You’re a smart girl. Where’s your mama.

I went to the door.

I tried as gently as possible to talk with the mom.  This neighborhood just isn’t safe for her child to be on the street like that.

“Oh I am watching her from the window.”

Lady, while you’re watching from the window. I’ve hauled her into my car.

Think about it.

I left with a loud “Who in the hell do your think you are!!!” Ringing behind me.

157 registered sexual offenders in my zipcode.

How many in yours?

This is gmom,

peace out.

We Are Family Like That

When my brother’s fatal prognosis was told to our family. We were grouped together surrounding his wife. Hands all around her. On shoulders. On knees. Supporting and holding.

We are family like that. We hold each other up.

We listened intently to everything the doctor was saying not noticing my mother walking away. My elder sister noticed first.

Where is Mom?

We went to the hospital hallway and saw my mother running down the hospital hallway.  For myself, I had a moment of wanting to let her go. She had the right idea. Run Mom Run. But there was no where to run to. We went after her. Like the Keystone cops. We caught her, crying and struggling, out of control. We surrounded her. Someone brought a chair.

It’s okay mom, it’s okay,it’s going to be okay…

We put hands all around her. Held her. Supported her.  All of us, Including my sister in law.

We are family like that.

Now I understand why she ran.

But there really is no running from life.

These 5 revitalizing days alone at the beach have reminded me, that I am not alone in my struggles.  I have hands all around me. Holding me. Supporting me.

We are family like that.

My Mother Played Jacks

A set of jacks

Image via Wikipedia

1967.

I am 6 years old.

My mother is making dinner. Fried fish and tater tots.

She sees me hanging around and says,”Don’t you have anything to do?”

“Nope.”

I set my jacks and ball on the counter and tried to play, but I just couldn’t get the hang of throwing the ball and snatching up the jacks after a bounce.

My mother caught the ball and scooped up the jacks and had me sit with her on the floor.  She showed me how to play jacks. My mother knew how to play jacks!

I never knew that!

Thus began an almost nightly ritual of jacks with my mom.

My mother laughed when I caught an especially difficult toss.

I had never heard her laugh before.

The world turned easily in the small space between us on the kitchen floor. The steady bounce of the ball and swoosh of the jacks sounded safe and soft.

I wanted the game to go on and on.

I wanted to hear my mother laugh.

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