I've not posted since the beginning of Heathen #1's senior year of high school started. I had difficulty remembering to even breathe that year just trying to keep up with everything that needed to be done. At the end of the year and upon his leaving for Basic Training, I had trouble remembering to breathe because my Zoo felt broken.
It has taken me this long to regain my equilibrium (or at least close to equilibrium). While I knew his leaving would cause a drastic change, I failed to foresee the vast impact it would have - not only on myself, but on the younger two Heathens as well.
The younger Heathens have found their balance as well. Life here at the Zoo is beginning to feel normal again.
However, so much has happened - I'll have to start filling in the holes for the past many months. Enjoy!
Friday, July 28, 2017
Day Camp Era Ends
For the past eleven years, I have been to Cub Scout Day Camp. It has been an adventure EVERY year.
The first summer I attended the first day with Heathen #1 - and I was 9 months pregnant with Heathen #3. That Wednesday was the ONLY day I could attend as I was scheduled for an induction the following morning on Thursday. I was due on July 12. Wednesday was July 13. The camp nurse was a woman that I had known for years. And when she saw me arrive, I had to PROMISE that I wouldn't go into labor while I was at camp.
We had a great day with perfect weather. The fresh air was fabulous and although tired, I felt great. The only difficulty of the day was that the bathrooms were not centrally located and I needed to visit them frequently.
At 3:30, the group assembled for the closing flag ceremony and I excused myself from my group for yet another trip to the bathroom. Part way to the restroom, my water broke - at camp with more than 200 cub scouts. And I had scouts that I had to take home in addition to my own Heathens. I managed to round up the kids I needed and leave camp without having to admit to the nurse that I DID go into labor at camp - and I've never told her! I really had every intention of keeping that promise when I made it that morning.
Heathen #3 has attended Day Camp every year, including the year of his birth, except for one year when it overlapped with church camp. I attended Day Camp that year even though I DIDN'T have a scout there!
Archery, crafts, games, nature, feature, BB guns, scout skills, theme - stations that I will never visit again. I learned as much as my Heathens did over the years. I can tie the knots (some of them and not as well as the Heathens), I can start a fire (better than the Heathens), I've learned about space, the ocean, the Oregon Trail and so much more.
I've watched Heathens fall asleep in the car every day on the way home - every year. I've never heard one say they DIDN'T want to attend.
I've been a "walker" every year - chaperoning groups of scouts from station to station. I've watched them run when they were supposed to walk and walk when they were supposed to run. I've survived crafts that always seemed to involve a scout swinging a hammer and me holding the nail. I've survived archery and BB guns and yelled the phrase "keep that pointed down range!" more times than I can count. I've watched a scout put skittles in his nose and then look at me as though nothing was strange - and then eat said Skittles. I've searched for scouts that wandered away from their groups. I've survived Mother Nature in all her glory, packed into small rooms with small boys, waiting for the storm to pass.
I've watched my Heathens make friends and I've made friends myself.
But the Heathens are finished with Day Camp, at least as campers. I could see them going back as staff at some point, but that will be their choice. I have regained three days in the month of July for many years to come. And while I won't be going to Day Camp next summer, I don't know that I'll ever pass the month of July without thinking of it.
The first summer I attended the first day with Heathen #1 - and I was 9 months pregnant with Heathen #3. That Wednesday was the ONLY day I could attend as I was scheduled for an induction the following morning on Thursday. I was due on July 12. Wednesday was July 13. The camp nurse was a woman that I had known for years. And when she saw me arrive, I had to PROMISE that I wouldn't go into labor while I was at camp.
We had a great day with perfect weather. The fresh air was fabulous and although tired, I felt great. The only difficulty of the day was that the bathrooms were not centrally located and I needed to visit them frequently.
At 3:30, the group assembled for the closing flag ceremony and I excused myself from my group for yet another trip to the bathroom. Part way to the restroom, my water broke - at camp with more than 200 cub scouts. And I had scouts that I had to take home in addition to my own Heathens. I managed to round up the kids I needed and leave camp without having to admit to the nurse that I DID go into labor at camp - and I've never told her! I really had every intention of keeping that promise when I made it that morning.
Heathen #3 has attended Day Camp every year, including the year of his birth, except for one year when it overlapped with church camp. I attended Day Camp that year even though I DIDN'T have a scout there!
Archery, crafts, games, nature, feature, BB guns, scout skills, theme - stations that I will never visit again. I learned as much as my Heathens did over the years. I can tie the knots (some of them and not as well as the Heathens), I can start a fire (better than the Heathens), I've learned about space, the ocean, the Oregon Trail and so much more.
I've watched Heathens fall asleep in the car every day on the way home - every year. I've never heard one say they DIDN'T want to attend.
I've been a "walker" every year - chaperoning groups of scouts from station to station. I've watched them run when they were supposed to walk and walk when they were supposed to run. I've survived crafts that always seemed to involve a scout swinging a hammer and me holding the nail. I've survived archery and BB guns and yelled the phrase "keep that pointed down range!" more times than I can count. I've watched a scout put skittles in his nose and then look at me as though nothing was strange - and then eat said Skittles. I've searched for scouts that wandered away from their groups. I've survived Mother Nature in all her glory, packed into small rooms with small boys, waiting for the storm to pass.
I've watched my Heathens make friends and I've made friends myself.
But the Heathens are finished with Day Camp, at least as campers. I could see them going back as staff at some point, but that will be their choice. I have regained three days in the month of July for many years to come. And while I won't be going to Day Camp next summer, I don't know that I'll ever pass the month of July without thinking of it.
Saturday, January 28, 2017
Two Sheets of Powerful Paper
Everyone owns a bag of some sort. This bag is your "catch-all" - backpack, purse, etc. Occasionally, this bag needs to be cleaned out. For many mothers, it is whatever bag they can NOT leave home without. Some mothers carry small bags, some carry medium size bags, and some use carry-on sized luggage. NONE of us can fault the luggage haulers - when those of us who opt for a smaller bag have need of something for our own child, the luggage-hauler inevitably digs through her luggage and magically pulls out whatever we need, and than hands it to us and shares with a smile. We would all be lost without those particular mothers!
Prior to the Heathens, I vaguely remember carrying a purse the size of a Tic-Tac. Upon Heathen #1's arrival, the Tic-Tac disappeared to be replaced by the ever-trusty diaper bag. About the size of a small duffel bag, our diaper bag when through a few renovations over the 11 years that I carried one.
Now years past that phase of parenting, I'm back to the woman's closest companion - my purse. I've noticed in the past week that it was time. There was too much stuff crammed in there: pens, pencils, receipts, to do lists, small tubes of lotion, hair clips, candy wrappers, gum wrappers, and other random objects that I have no idea why they were there or who put them there. It was time to empty it out, sort through the detritus, and discard the rubbish. Much like spring cleaning, it is not something I look forward to doing, but I feel better when it is over.
All receipt dates were checked to make sure they were financially recorded and then thrown away. All hair accessories were returned to the container in the linen closet. All candy/gum wrappers went into the garbage. Coupons' expiration dates were checked. Expired ones into the trash, valid ones into the wallet where I would see them to use prior to expiration (hopefully).
As I placed the coupons into my wallet, I noticed a ragged paper I keep in the back of my wallet. I haven't noticed it in quite a while and it surprised me that it was actually still there. I smiled as I pulled it out and carefully unfolded a magazine article that I have carried in my wallet for years. Like my purse, it is always with me. I've read that article so many times in the past years. As I reread it this morning, I noticed the date:
At that point in my life, I was working full time, juggling two small Heathens (ages 6 and 2), and pregnant with the third Heathen. While I love my Heathens, I have always loved my job - whatever it happened to be at that time. And I have always retained, to this day, a dual sense of guilt: one part, "I should want to stay home with my Heathens," and one part, "I should have a career and use my education." Oil and water, those bits of guilt are always discernible.
This article was the first I had seen that did not only support one side of the guilt or the other. It was not a list of all the ways children of stay-at-home mothers thrived more or a list of all the financial advantages to having a second income. It was an article written for me - and those like me - that love what they do and feel guilty and selfish for loving their jobs.
This article has been the equivalent of shaking a bottle of salad dressing. When the guilt of one or the other separates from everyday life, when I feel as though I am failing at a task (either as a mother or a teacher), when I feel overwhelmed by trying to have both worlds - I read this article. It shakes me out of that feeling of being overwhelmed.
Two years after I started to carry this article, I stopped working full-time and went to part-time. I am blessed with a husband that allows me the freedom (both financially and supportively) to make that change. That change freed me from so much of that guilt that I had carried for so long.
Over the years, as the Heathens have grown, I have needed to read the article less and less. For one, I've read it so many times that I could probably write most of it down from memory. But more importantly, as I've watched my Heathens grow, I have watched the eleven reasons listed in the article all come true with my Heathens. While I still worry over how my Heathens will turn out in the future, I now look at strong facial features forming clues to permanent appearances instead of the soft, boneless, fragile, doughy appearances of babies and small children. Now I watch strong personalities and characters instead of holding hands and struggling to teach "waiting your turn" at the playground to small impatient Heathens.
I reread the article again this morning, wondering if I still "needed" the article. With Heathen #3 in 6th grade this year, I went back to work full-time at the beginning of the school year. It has been an adjustment for both myself and the Heathens. Complaining about the chaos and juggling has been done by both the younger two Heathens and myself. It was specifically mentioned one day that, "I liked it when we just had me-and-Mommy days. I wish you didn't work."
Remember the amount of guilt that particular statement caused me, I shook myself this morning while I held the article in hand. Carefully, I refolded the article and put it back into my wallet with a soft smile. I'm not quite ready yet to give up that article. And I may not be ready until the Heathens are all successfully launched into their own lives. And that's okay. And the article is right, my Heathens are turning out well. That's okay with me.
** For those that would like to read the article, it is available here.
Prior to the Heathens, I vaguely remember carrying a purse the size of a Tic-Tac. Upon Heathen #1's arrival, the Tic-Tac disappeared to be replaced by the ever-trusty diaper bag. About the size of a small duffel bag, our diaper bag when through a few renovations over the 11 years that I carried one.
Now years past that phase of parenting, I'm back to the woman's closest companion - my purse. I've noticed in the past week that it was time. There was too much stuff crammed in there: pens, pencils, receipts, to do lists, small tubes of lotion, hair clips, candy wrappers, gum wrappers, and other random objects that I have no idea why they were there or who put them there. It was time to empty it out, sort through the detritus, and discard the rubbish. Much like spring cleaning, it is not something I look forward to doing, but I feel better when it is over.
All receipt dates were checked to make sure they were financially recorded and then thrown away. All hair accessories were returned to the container in the linen closet. All candy/gum wrappers went into the garbage. Coupons' expiration dates were checked. Expired ones into the trash, valid ones into the wallet where I would see them to use prior to expiration (hopefully).
As I placed the coupons into my wallet, I noticed a ragged paper I keep in the back of my wallet. I haven't noticed it in quite a while and it surprised me that it was actually still there. I smiled as I pulled it out and carefully unfolded a magazine article that I have carried in my wallet for years. Like my purse, it is always with me. I've read that article so many times in the past years. As I reread it this morning, I noticed the date:
Just shy of twelve years. I was pregnant with Heathen #3 when I found this article. I've had this article with me for that long. Heathen #3 didn't make his appearance until mid-July that year.
As a Zoo, we rarely subscribe to magazines. We are so rarely able to actually sit down and read one that it has always seemed to be rather a waste of money to us. And I am personally not (and never have been) a subscriber to "mommy magazines," as I think of them. Although I am sure they have the best intentions at heart, I've always felt as though those magazines make the work of raising children more difficult.
The articles are full of suggestions, crafts, pictures, etc. that have always struck me as so unattainable (for the most part). I'm left feeling frustrated and as though I failed at whatever task was covered in that months issue. Unfortunately, when you have children, especially children like my Heathens, you visit the pediatrician's office frequently - and they subscribe to those magazines en mass. Stacks of them are everywhere you turn.
That is my only guess at this point in time as to how I came upon this article in the first place. I don't remember the location or why I was there or who I had with me. But I remember reading this article and feeling as though it was written just for me. I remember looking hastily around to be sure no one was looking. Quietly as possible, I tore the two pages from the magazine, and quickly folded it and stuffed my contraband into my purse.
This is what I've carried for so long:
At that point in my life, I was working full time, juggling two small Heathens (ages 6 and 2), and pregnant with the third Heathen. While I love my Heathens, I have always loved my job - whatever it happened to be at that time. And I have always retained, to this day, a dual sense of guilt: one part, "I should want to stay home with my Heathens," and one part, "I should have a career and use my education." Oil and water, those bits of guilt are always discernible.
This article was the first I had seen that did not only support one side of the guilt or the other. It was not a list of all the ways children of stay-at-home mothers thrived more or a list of all the financial advantages to having a second income. It was an article written for me - and those like me - that love what they do and feel guilty and selfish for loving their jobs.
This article has been the equivalent of shaking a bottle of salad dressing. When the guilt of one or the other separates from everyday life, when I feel as though I am failing at a task (either as a mother or a teacher), when I feel overwhelmed by trying to have both worlds - I read this article. It shakes me out of that feeling of being overwhelmed.
Two years after I started to carry this article, I stopped working full-time and went to part-time. I am blessed with a husband that allows me the freedom (both financially and supportively) to make that change. That change freed me from so much of that guilt that I had carried for so long.
Over the years, as the Heathens have grown, I have needed to read the article less and less. For one, I've read it so many times that I could probably write most of it down from memory. But more importantly, as I've watched my Heathens grow, I have watched the eleven reasons listed in the article all come true with my Heathens. While I still worry over how my Heathens will turn out in the future, I now look at strong facial features forming clues to permanent appearances instead of the soft, boneless, fragile, doughy appearances of babies and small children. Now I watch strong personalities and characters instead of holding hands and struggling to teach "waiting your turn" at the playground to small impatient Heathens.
I reread the article again this morning, wondering if I still "needed" the article. With Heathen #3 in 6th grade this year, I went back to work full-time at the beginning of the school year. It has been an adjustment for both myself and the Heathens. Complaining about the chaos and juggling has been done by both the younger two Heathens and myself. It was specifically mentioned one day that, "I liked it when we just had me-and-Mommy days. I wish you didn't work."
Remember the amount of guilt that particular statement caused me, I shook myself this morning while I held the article in hand. Carefully, I refolded the article and put it back into my wallet with a soft smile. I'm not quite ready yet to give up that article. And I may not be ready until the Heathens are all successfully launched into their own lives. And that's okay. And the article is right, my Heathens are turning out well. That's okay with me.
** For those that would like to read the article, it is available here.
Sunday, June 19, 2016
Cast of Characters - REVISITED
On January, 31, 2008, I started this blog. Here is the original post, for those that care to revisit it.
It has been EIGHT YEARS of chronicling the antics of my Heathens and the Asst. Zookeeper. Life here at the Zoo has done anything by slow down. If anything, it is moving at "full-steam ahead" and showing signs for speeding up!
For those that haven't followed for the entire 8 years, I thought I would reintroduce my Cast of Characters. The faces of small Heathens have aged, rounded cheeks giving way to cheekbones and chins. They've grown in height to the point that I've begun to feel like a midget in my own home.
So, the UPDATED Cast of Characters:
There are three heathens currently residing in the zoo that we call a home. Although, only until September.
Heathen #1: Tristan (age 18)
His senior picture - and our first high school graduate of the Zoo. This Heathen secured himself a job for the past FOUR summers and I'm beginning to think he may turn out to be a decent citizen of the community. This Eagle Scout has chosen to join the Navy (special warfare contract) and is leaving the Zoo in September. The Asst. Zookeeper and I completely support his choice and are proud of the young man he is becoming. What a difference 8 years makes!
Heathen #2: Gavin (age 5)
Again, a current school picture - his first ever! Heathen #2 is VERY different from Heathen #1. When the boys got out of bed the morning of school pictures, Gavin put this outfit together by himself! He knew exactly what he wanted to wear and asked me specifically where his white shirt was because he needed it to go under this sweater vest. Needless to say, this heathen is much more fashion conscious than the previous one. Heathen #2 is currently 5 years old, but will be turning 6 in just two months. His favorite response to anything I say is "But, Mom!" This angelic looking child also has a stubborn streak that would give anyone pause - he gets it from his father, but we'll get to him in a minute.
Heathen #2: Gavin (age 14)
Kindergarten to completed 8th grade - what a jump! This Heathen is taking on high school next year. I don't know that the high school is ready, but at least they will only have one Heathen at a time except for one year. This Heathen is learning to find himself in the lovely years of being a teen. And he is learning that being HIM is just fine. For a younger teen, while there is a lot of eye rolling, there is very little muttering. Although, if he feels he has a valid point, he will argue it to death (usually his mental death or mine). This one is still work on attaining Eagle Scout, but I fully expect him to earn it. While he still has the stubborn streak that he has demonstrated since birth, he has learned to channel it in useful ways. What a difference 8 years can make!
Heathen #3: Landon (age 2.5 years)
This heathen is the youngest of the crew - God help him! At 2 and a half, he can hold his own with the older boys. Although still little, he does an amazing job of keeping up with Heathens #1 and #2. Needless to say, he is incredibly verbal for his age. This one's claim to fame is his appetite. At two and a half, he's only about 28 lbs. And he's only 2ft. 9in. tall - a midget compared to my older two. But he eats more than both of them put together! As his father so eloquently put it, "His verbal skills are deteriorating. All he says anymore is, 'Mama, I hungry.'"
Heathen #3: Landon (age 10)
The bright blond hair has given way to a darker blond and the adorable toddler has grown into a witty almost-teen. Now entrenched in middle school, this Heathen is making his presence known. He's started the trials of middle school and trying to make sense of why some people are no longer friends and how friendships change as your age. But he is surviving and flourishing. He has begun the trek to Eagle Scout, following in some rather large footprints left by not only his brothers, but his uncles as well. I can't wait to see where this one goes in life. What a difference 8 years can make!
Well, that's the cast of characters at our zoo. Our zoo is always open, and there is no entrance charge except a sense of humor and a willingness to roll with the punches.
Oh! And I forgot, there's me - I'm head zookeeper.
It has been EIGHT YEARS of chronicling the antics of my Heathens and the Asst. Zookeeper. Life here at the Zoo has done anything by slow down. If anything, it is moving at "full-steam ahead" and showing signs for speeding up!
For those that haven't followed for the entire 8 years, I thought I would reintroduce my Cast of Characters. The faces of small Heathens have aged, rounded cheeks giving way to cheekbones and chins. They've grown in height to the point that I've begun to feel like a midget in my own home.
So, the UPDATED Cast of Characters:
There are three heathens currently residing in the zoo that we call a home. Although, only until September.
Heathen #1: Tristan (age 9)
This is this year's school picture - he'd probably be mortified to know I was using it. While it is an excellent photo of him, this is not a "true" picture of who my oldest son is.
The morning of school pictures, he came down the steps in a ratty, stained t-shirt and his hair looked like he combed it with an egg-beater. I chose the shirt and I combed the hair - adding a threat about NOT using the comb that the photographers provide. Heathen #1 is currently 9 years old, but will be turning 10 in less than two months. His favorite response when I ask him to do something is, "Aw, Mom!"
Heathen #1: Tristan (age 18)
His senior picture - and our first high school graduate of the Zoo. This Heathen secured himself a job for the past FOUR summers and I'm beginning to think he may turn out to be a decent citizen of the community. This Eagle Scout has chosen to join the Navy (special warfare contract) and is leaving the Zoo in September. The Asst. Zookeeper and I completely support his choice and are proud of the young man he is becoming. What a difference 8 years makes!
Heathen #2: Gavin (age 5)Again, a current school picture - his first ever! Heathen #2 is VERY different from Heathen #1. When the boys got out of bed the morning of school pictures, Gavin put this outfit together by himself! He knew exactly what he wanted to wear and asked me specifically where his white shirt was because he needed it to go under this sweater vest. Needless to say, this heathen is much more fashion conscious than the previous one. Heathen #2 is currently 5 years old, but will be turning 6 in just two months. His favorite response to anything I say is "But, Mom!" This angelic looking child also has a stubborn streak that would give anyone pause - he gets it from his father, but we'll get to him in a minute.
Heathen #2: Gavin (age 14)
Kindergarten to completed 8th grade - what a jump! This Heathen is taking on high school next year. I don't know that the high school is ready, but at least they will only have one Heathen at a time except for one year. This Heathen is learning to find himself in the lovely years of being a teen. And he is learning that being HIM is just fine. For a younger teen, while there is a lot of eye rolling, there is very little muttering. Although, if he feels he has a valid point, he will argue it to death (usually his mental death or mine). This one is still work on attaining Eagle Scout, but I fully expect him to earn it. While he still has the stubborn streak that he has demonstrated since birth, he has learned to channel it in useful ways. What a difference 8 years can make!
Heathen #3: Landon (age 2.5 years)
This heathen is the youngest of the crew - God help him! At 2 and a half, he can hold his own with the older boys. Although still little, he does an amazing job of keeping up with Heathens #1 and #2. Needless to say, he is incredibly verbal for his age. This one's claim to fame is his appetite. At two and a half, he's only about 28 lbs. And he's only 2ft. 9in. tall - a midget compared to my older two. But he eats more than both of them put together! As his father so eloquently put it, "His verbal skills are deteriorating. All he says anymore is, 'Mama, I hungry.'"
The bright blond hair has given way to a darker blond and the adorable toddler has grown into a witty almost-teen. Now entrenched in middle school, this Heathen is making his presence known. He's started the trials of middle school and trying to make sense of why some people are no longer friends and how friendships change as your age. But he is surviving and flourishing. He has begun the trek to Eagle Scout, following in some rather large footprints left by not only his brothers, but his uncles as well. I can't wait to see where this one goes in life. What a difference 8 years can make!
We've almost finished the cast of characters for the home zoo. There is still one main character to go, plus a few minor characters.
This last main character is probably the biggest Heathen in my zoo. And most of the time, he's the ringleader. I've mentioned him a few times already, but he definitely deserves his own introduction.
Daniel - the head heathen & Assistant Zookeeper
We started dating when we were in high school - and twenty plus years later, we still haven't killed each other. Considering how obnoxious I can be at times, how irritating he can be at times, and considering the strong personalities involved on both sides, this is truly amazing! The motorcycle pictured has been gone for several years, followed by an array of other toys. There is always adventure to be had at our Zoo.
That's the end of the main characters. As for the minor characters, there are a quite a few. WE currently have three dogs: Duchess, Bantley, and Zeus. We have three cats: Nina, Tucker, and Sorcia. We also claim approximately a dozen chickens (6 friendlies, 6 not friendlies) and three goats: Anastasia, Sable, and Abeena.
Well, that's the cast of characters at our zoo. Our zoo is always open, and there is no entrance charge except a sense of humor and a willingness to roll with the punches.
Oh! And I forgot, there's me - I'm head zookeeper.
Sunday, June 12, 2016
Living With His Mistress
I lead a difficult life - I'm constantly tripping over my husband's mistress. I started their relationship referring to her as his "girlfriend." At this point, I've upgraded her to a mistress. When I speak to her directly, I've called her, "Hey, B****" for years now. We have a loving relationship - as long my the Asst. Zookeeper is not home.
She has developed a new trick - just in the past two weeks. The Asst. Zookeeper's new job requires more travel that in the past. This leaves his mistress home with me. I care for her as I do the Heathens - she is fed, has proper medical care, etc., all during his absence. She loves me when he is not at home. As soon as he walks in the door, I cease to exist.
Her new trick is that she only turns back the bed on HIS side.
She has developed a new trick - just in the past two weeks. The Asst. Zookeeper's new job requires more travel that in the past. This leaves his mistress home with me. I care for her as I do the Heathens - she is fed, has proper medical care, etc., all during his absence. She loves me when he is not at home. As soon as he walks in the door, I cease to exist.
Her new trick is that she only turns back the bed on HIS side.
Whether the Asst. Zookeeper is home or not, I flip the covers back over the bed in the morning - I wouldn't call it "making the bed" as much as a "you can NOT take a nap" deterrent. Since he started to travel more for work, she does this EVERY DAY, even on days that he is home.
When I walked into the bedroom a few minutes ago, I found the above scene. Once she glanced over her shoulder to discover that I was NOT HIM, she immediately went back to looking out the window and ignoring my existence.
NINE YEARS I have lived with this female. At her current age of 12, I'm sure we are on the downward side of our relationship. She can no longer go for runs with me (although she wants to and I have to sneak out the door with the other dogs). But she still manages this type of nonsense - making sure that I know which of us she prefers above all others. Well done, Duchess.
Sunday, May 8, 2016
Conversation and Time vs. A Card
I'll admit to not being a fan of Mother's Day - especially since I had Heathens. At the Zoo, we celebrate big occasions in a big way. Small occasions we tend to let slip by.
While we celebrate the Heathens birthdays, we let our own birthdays and anniversary come and go with little fanfare.
I don't need candy, flowers, a card, or some other present to make me feel loved as a mother. Never have. My Heathens and Asst. Zookeeper love me everyday.
I feel loved as a mother when at the ages of 10 and 14, the Heathens come a give me a kiss on the cheek before heading out the door for the bus in the mornings.
I feel loved as a mother when I seem overwhelmed and either Heathen #1 or the Asst. Zookeeper looks at me and says, "What do you need me to do to help?"
I feel loved as a mother when the older Heathens return from a weekend camping trip and want to tell me everything that happened BEFORE they raid the refrigerator.
I feel loved as a mother when the littlest Heathen asks for a "Mommy and Me Day - like when I was little and the boys were in school."
I feel loved as a mother when one of them had a rough day, and simply asks for a hug - as though I still have magical powers like they believed when they were small.
I feel loved as a mother when the Heathens tell others that they know everything will work out for the best, because the Head Zookeeper said so - and she always makes it work.
I feel loved as a mother when my Heathens ask how MY day was at work - and then wait to hear my response because they genuinely want to know.
I feel loved as a mother when my Heathens tell others that they are unavailable for something because they have a "family commitment" and they aren't upset to miss a chance to go to the movies to attend a young cousin's birthday party instead.
I don't need a card or flowers - I need their love, which they share with me every day.
I did receive an over-the-shoulder "Happy Mother's Day" from one of the older two Heathens after spending an hour talking to me about their weekend. I'll take the conversation over the words any day.
Love my Heathens. And cards or flowers don't make the difference. At least, not for me.
While we celebrate the Heathens birthdays, we let our own birthdays and anniversary come and go with little fanfare.
I don't need candy, flowers, a card, or some other present to make me feel loved as a mother. Never have. My Heathens and Asst. Zookeeper love me everyday.
I feel loved as a mother when at the ages of 10 and 14, the Heathens come a give me a kiss on the cheek before heading out the door for the bus in the mornings.
I feel loved as a mother when I seem overwhelmed and either Heathen #1 or the Asst. Zookeeper looks at me and says, "What do you need me to do to help?"
I feel loved as a mother when the older Heathens return from a weekend camping trip and want to tell me everything that happened BEFORE they raid the refrigerator.
I feel loved as a mother when the littlest Heathen asks for a "Mommy and Me Day - like when I was little and the boys were in school."
I feel loved as a mother when one of them had a rough day, and simply asks for a hug - as though I still have magical powers like they believed when they were small.
I feel loved as a mother when the Heathens tell others that they know everything will work out for the best, because the Head Zookeeper said so - and she always makes it work.
I feel loved as a mother when my Heathens ask how MY day was at work - and then wait to hear my response because they genuinely want to know.
I feel loved as a mother when my Heathens tell others that they are unavailable for something because they have a "family commitment" and they aren't upset to miss a chance to go to the movies to attend a young cousin's birthday party instead.
I don't need a card or flowers - I need their love, which they share with me every day.
I did receive an over-the-shoulder "Happy Mother's Day" from one of the older two Heathens after spending an hour talking to me about their weekend. I'll take the conversation over the words any day.
Love my Heathens. And cards or flowers don't make the difference. At least, not for me.
Saturday, May 7, 2016
Hugs, Hula Hoops, Water Slides, and Misbehavior
It has been a month since my Gram's passing - and I still think of her everyday. I'm sure I will for many days yet to come.
My Heathens have reached the point where they remember happy moments with her again. Ice cream, her candy dish when she would tell them to take a handful after I had said they could have just a few. Her bird clock now hangs in my kitchen - chirping out the hours 24 hours a day. No one else wanted the silly thing, but it brings my Heathens such happiness. They know how she loved her bird-watching. And when they hear the clock chirp, they yell, "Hi, Great Gram! Love you!" towards the kitchen - which never fails to make me smile.
My Gram was such a major part of my life. After my grandfather's death when I was twelve, Gram was always with us - she did everything except sleep at our house. She was at basketball & volleyball games, wrestling matches, concerts - always cheering us on and pointing out to anyone and everyone which ones where HER grandchildren. I never doubted her love for me.
By choosing to raise my own children in town, our extended family grew - Gram started attending school concerts for great grandchildren, running errands with small children in tow, lunch dates with small blond boys. She was at every holiday meal at my mother's house. Although "old-fashioned" in nature, my Heathens were blessed to spend so much time with her.
Gram always met you with a hug and made sure you left with another hug - she wasn't skimpy with her affection. Most hugs were accompanied by a huge kiss on the cheek and her telling you that she loved your and how glad she was to see you.
After my grandfather died, instead of shutting herself into her house - she remade her life. I can only imagine the courage and strength it took for her to do that. And she continued to have fun - despite what people thought was appropriate for her age.
My Aunt Paula organized a surprise luau for Gram's 70th birthday. One of her grandchildren talked her into the hula hoop:
When she was in her mid-eighties, she and I took a trip to the local swimming pool - taking my 3 Heathens, as well as the youngest two grandchildren (5 children under driving age). One of the children joking asked her to go down the water slide. She grinned and headed for the steps.
My Heathens have reached the point where they remember happy moments with her again. Ice cream, her candy dish when she would tell them to take a handful after I had said they could have just a few. Her bird clock now hangs in my kitchen - chirping out the hours 24 hours a day. No one else wanted the silly thing, but it brings my Heathens such happiness. They know how she loved her bird-watching. And when they hear the clock chirp, they yell, "Hi, Great Gram! Love you!" towards the kitchen - which never fails to make me smile.
My Gram was such a major part of my life. After my grandfather's death when I was twelve, Gram was always with us - she did everything except sleep at our house. She was at basketball & volleyball games, wrestling matches, concerts - always cheering us on and pointing out to anyone and everyone which ones where HER grandchildren. I never doubted her love for me.
By choosing to raise my own children in town, our extended family grew - Gram started attending school concerts for great grandchildren, running errands with small children in tow, lunch dates with small blond boys. She was at every holiday meal at my mother's house. Although "old-fashioned" in nature, my Heathens were blessed to spend so much time with her.
Gram always met you with a hug and made sure you left with another hug - she wasn't skimpy with her affection. Most hugs were accompanied by a huge kiss on the cheek and her telling you that she loved your and how glad she was to see you.
After my grandfather died, instead of shutting herself into her house - she remade her life. I can only imagine the courage and strength it took for her to do that. And she continued to have fun - despite what people thought was appropriate for her age.
My Aunt Paula organized a surprise luau for Gram's 70th birthday. One of her grandchildren talked her into the hula hoop:
When she was in her mid-eighties, she and I took a trip to the local swimming pool - taking my 3 Heathens, as well as the youngest two grandchildren (5 children under driving age). One of the children joking asked her to go down the water slide. She grinned and headed for the steps.
She didn't head for the small slide on the left. She headed for the slide on the RIGHT - that requires several flights of stairs to reach the top. And DOWN SHE WENT! When she popped to the surface of the water, all five children were cheering as though she had just won a gold medal. The teenage lifeguard looked as though he was going to die at the idea of fishing her out of the water. She got out, giggled, and said she thought once a day was enough. (My mother was quite upset that I "allowed" her to do such a thing at her age!)
When we made arrangements for her haircut, we would always decide what type of trouble we were going to cause while we were out together. And when I would take her home, I would tell her to misbehave until I came back. She would giggle and tell me to misbehave as well.
Then I would get my guaranteed hug and "I love you" before I headed out the door. I always told her I had more trouble to cause and she would giggle again. When I would arrive the next time, she would ask me what kind of trouble I had been causing.
Unfortunately, there will be no more hugs or giggles for a while. I was sure that I wouldn't be told to go cause trouble (after all, I am an "adult").
Then this arrived in the mail on the inside of a card:
So, there will be more trouble, and giggling! I just need to be reminded. Look out, World, the Heathens and I have a mission of misbehavior in honor of Great Gram. I'm sure we will do her proud.
Friday, April 8, 2016
The Passing of an Era
Wednesday, March 30th during mid-afternoon, an era of my life ended. I knew the era was not going to last forever (despite appearances to the contrary), however, I was not expecting it that day.
My Wednesday began like most others. Heathens up and out the door for school. An hour or so later, I followed to make my commute to teach for the day.
Like most college instructors, I despise cell phones ringing during class - however, I understand that I have parents in my classroom that may have sick children, etc. I simply ask that all phones be on vibrate and that students leave the room to take a call.
At the beginning of my semesters, I explain that I also have children and that my phone will be on vibrate as well. During the course of lecture, if I hear it buzz, I can easily walk past the table to see whom is calling and decide if it is necessary to take the call. In six years, I have never taken a call.
The past few semesters, I've warned my students that I have an elderly uncle that I am the primary contact for the nursing home and a very elderly grandmother that I am the second point of contact as I'm one of the only family adults living in town. When those numbers blink up on the screen - I must take the call. Despite the number of calls I have received from the two facilities, they never called during class time.
Wednesday, the Manor called me at 1:31 pm. This means that my father, the primary contact for my grandmother, was unreachable. Considering it was a bright blue, crisp spring day, I was not surprised. I figured he was out in the yard. However, it had to be answered. I apologized to my class, feeling like a bit of a hypocrite. But it was necessary.
It was one of the nurses from my grandmother's wing. My Gram had been experiencing chest pain and was refusing to go to the hospital, despite the nurse's urging her to do so. She knew my Gram would listen if family told her she needed to go - so she called. I had her take the phone to my Gram.
Although not far from getting over a cold, my Gram's voice was weaker than I expected when she answered the phone. I had to explain twice who I was - at 92, her mind was weaker than any of us wanted to believe. And she responded, "Oh, do I have to?" when I said she needed to go to the hospital. I pleaded with her to go and promised that I would meet her there. She finally said she would and we ended our call with me promising to head for the hospital immediately.
I walked back into my classroom and did something else I have never done in six years. I announced, "Class dismissed," to a room of stunned faces, gathered my things, and was out the door ahead of most of my students.
I work approximately a hour from the hospital where they were taking her. On the drive into town, I made the necessary phone call to my father (turns out he had simply been in the shower), and called the Asst. Zookeeper to make sure he had the Zoo covered for the evening. My Gram tends to get rather cranky at the hospital because she doesn't like being there. Between that and the decline in her memory, she needs to have someone with her that can clarify things such as dates, times, durations, etc. The Asst. Zookeeper and I both figured I would be at the hospital until at least 8 or 9 that evening until she was admitted.
I was just 10 miles from the hospital when my mother called and told me to hurry. Gram had already reached the hospital and the hospital had called about her advanced directives. My heart dropped as I sat in stopped traffic in the construction zone between me and my grandmother. I counted every second as I sat at the red light just a few minutes later. It was all I could do NOT to pass the car going 5 miles under the speed limit. My mother had said to hurry, yet everything seemed designed to slow me down.
I pulled into the emergency room, grabbed my purse. Leaving my car running and the door hanging open for valet, I ran into the hospital and asked for my grandmother at the front desk. I was told they were waiting for me and that I was the first family member to arrive.
I knew from the tone of my mother's voice telling me to hurry that the era was ending, but I had been denying it. The look on that woman's face at confirmed it. As I was taken back through the maze of rooms, she was gathering up doctors, nurses and telling them that I was there for "Room 11." Those faces were just further confirmation of what I knew was happening.
The curtain in room 11 was brushed aside to show my Gram - very tiny on such a large bed. We've been joking with her recently that she was just going to simply disappear one day as she has continued to get shorter and shorter. Her eyes were closed and she was wearing an oxygen mask.
I was there awhile by myself before my parents arrived. I simply sat and held her hand and talked to her. Told her how much everyone loved her. How much I loved her. And I told her that while we would miss her, that we would manage without her - she could rest.
After my parents arrived, we were told she had passed away without regaining consciousness. While my parents made phone calls to family, I simply sat and continued to hold her hand. There wasn't anything else I could do. When my parents said it was time to leave, I did - feeling guilty, as though I was abandoning my grandmother at the hospital. And I drove home to my Zoo, trying to figure out how I was going to tell the Heathens that Great Gram was gone.
My Wednesday began like most others. Heathens up and out the door for school. An hour or so later, I followed to make my commute to teach for the day.
Like most college instructors, I despise cell phones ringing during class - however, I understand that I have parents in my classroom that may have sick children, etc. I simply ask that all phones be on vibrate and that students leave the room to take a call.
At the beginning of my semesters, I explain that I also have children and that my phone will be on vibrate as well. During the course of lecture, if I hear it buzz, I can easily walk past the table to see whom is calling and decide if it is necessary to take the call. In six years, I have never taken a call.
The past few semesters, I've warned my students that I have an elderly uncle that I am the primary contact for the nursing home and a very elderly grandmother that I am the second point of contact as I'm one of the only family adults living in town. When those numbers blink up on the screen - I must take the call. Despite the number of calls I have received from the two facilities, they never called during class time.
Wednesday, the Manor called me at 1:31 pm. This means that my father, the primary contact for my grandmother, was unreachable. Considering it was a bright blue, crisp spring day, I was not surprised. I figured he was out in the yard. However, it had to be answered. I apologized to my class, feeling like a bit of a hypocrite. But it was necessary.
It was one of the nurses from my grandmother's wing. My Gram had been experiencing chest pain and was refusing to go to the hospital, despite the nurse's urging her to do so. She knew my Gram would listen if family told her she needed to go - so she called. I had her take the phone to my Gram.
Although not far from getting over a cold, my Gram's voice was weaker than I expected when she answered the phone. I had to explain twice who I was - at 92, her mind was weaker than any of us wanted to believe. And she responded, "Oh, do I have to?" when I said she needed to go to the hospital. I pleaded with her to go and promised that I would meet her there. She finally said she would and we ended our call with me promising to head for the hospital immediately.
I walked back into my classroom and did something else I have never done in six years. I announced, "Class dismissed," to a room of stunned faces, gathered my things, and was out the door ahead of most of my students.
I work approximately a hour from the hospital where they were taking her. On the drive into town, I made the necessary phone call to my father (turns out he had simply been in the shower), and called the Asst. Zookeeper to make sure he had the Zoo covered for the evening. My Gram tends to get rather cranky at the hospital because she doesn't like being there. Between that and the decline in her memory, she needs to have someone with her that can clarify things such as dates, times, durations, etc. The Asst. Zookeeper and I both figured I would be at the hospital until at least 8 or 9 that evening until she was admitted.
I was just 10 miles from the hospital when my mother called and told me to hurry. Gram had already reached the hospital and the hospital had called about her advanced directives. My heart dropped as I sat in stopped traffic in the construction zone between me and my grandmother. I counted every second as I sat at the red light just a few minutes later. It was all I could do NOT to pass the car going 5 miles under the speed limit. My mother had said to hurry, yet everything seemed designed to slow me down.
I pulled into the emergency room, grabbed my purse. Leaving my car running and the door hanging open for valet, I ran into the hospital and asked for my grandmother at the front desk. I was told they were waiting for me and that I was the first family member to arrive.
I knew from the tone of my mother's voice telling me to hurry that the era was ending, but I had been denying it. The look on that woman's face at confirmed it. As I was taken back through the maze of rooms, she was gathering up doctors, nurses and telling them that I was there for "Room 11." Those faces were just further confirmation of what I knew was happening.
The curtain in room 11 was brushed aside to show my Gram - very tiny on such a large bed. We've been joking with her recently that she was just going to simply disappear one day as she has continued to get shorter and shorter. Her eyes were closed and she was wearing an oxygen mask.
I was there awhile by myself before my parents arrived. I simply sat and held her hand and talked to her. Told her how much everyone loved her. How much I loved her. And I told her that while we would miss her, that we would manage without her - she could rest.
After my parents arrived, we were told she had passed away without regaining consciousness. While my parents made phone calls to family, I simply sat and continued to hold her hand. There wasn't anything else I could do. When my parents said it was time to leave, I did - feeling guilty, as though I was abandoning my grandmother at the hospital. And I drove home to my Zoo, trying to figure out how I was going to tell the Heathens that Great Gram was gone.
Monday, March 28, 2016
So, the rules change?
So. Today is THE day. A day that he has waited for impatiently. A day that has crawled towards us for years. A day that I've been dreading slightly only because it brings us one step closer to the inevitable.
Today, Heathen #1 turns 18 and is legally an adult.
Yesterday, he was NOT. Today, he IS. It seems so bizarre.
Last week, he commented about how the "rules will change" when he becomes an adult - and because of the conversation we were having, he was referring to the house rules. Things such as bedtimes, curfews, etc. Those were the rules that he thought were going to change. And he said it with a smug grin on his 17-year-old face.
I simply sat and looked at him with one eyebrow cocked, never saying a word. After a minute or two, he lost the smug grin and switched it for a shit-eating grin. He chuckled and shook his head. Then he said, "No, the rules aren't going to change. What was I thinking...."
He knows me so well.
But we DID have a conversation on the rules that DO change.
He is now legally an adult. It is no longer a fight between kids - it will/can involve police and charges. It's "assault." It's permanent. It will follow you for the rest of your life.
He is an adult and is now registered to vote. It is not a random "pick," but an educated choose. And his choice will affect not on his life, but the lives of everyone else as well. So choose carefully.
He is now old enough to gamble and buy cigarettes. I recommended he never start either habit. And I informed him that the house rules for cigarettes will NEVER change. I ever catch him with them and he will EAT the entire pack.
And, while some people like to say things like "it went by in a flash," I am not one of them. There are only two things in my life that I have invested more time and effort in that I have put into raising Heathen #1. I've invested more time and effort into my relationship with the Asst. Zookeeper - because there were times that we each had to keep the other from strangling a Heathen. And I've invested more time and effort into becoming myself.
If you think about it, 18 years really isn't that much - but they are such important years. He's just a few months from graduation and starting "his" life.
Happy Birthday, Heathen #1. I may threaten to toss you out and put your stuff on the front porch. And, you may eventually do something that makes me angry enough to do it. But, you will always have a home here at the Zoo.
Today, Heathen #1 turns 18 and is legally an adult.
Yesterday, he was NOT. Today, he IS. It seems so bizarre.
Last week, he commented about how the "rules will change" when he becomes an adult - and because of the conversation we were having, he was referring to the house rules. Things such as bedtimes, curfews, etc. Those were the rules that he thought were going to change. And he said it with a smug grin on his 17-year-old face.
I simply sat and looked at him with one eyebrow cocked, never saying a word. After a minute or two, he lost the smug grin and switched it for a shit-eating grin. He chuckled and shook his head. Then he said, "No, the rules aren't going to change. What was I thinking...."
He knows me so well.
But we DID have a conversation on the rules that DO change.
He is now legally an adult. It is no longer a fight between kids - it will/can involve police and charges. It's "assault." It's permanent. It will follow you for the rest of your life.
He is an adult and is now registered to vote. It is not a random "pick," but an educated choose. And his choice will affect not on his life, but the lives of everyone else as well. So choose carefully.
He is now old enough to gamble and buy cigarettes. I recommended he never start either habit. And I informed him that the house rules for cigarettes will NEVER change. I ever catch him with them and he will EAT the entire pack.
And, while some people like to say things like "it went by in a flash," I am not one of them. There are only two things in my life that I have invested more time and effort in that I have put into raising Heathen #1. I've invested more time and effort into my relationship with the Asst. Zookeeper - because there were times that we each had to keep the other from strangling a Heathen. And I've invested more time and effort into becoming myself.
If you think about it, 18 years really isn't that much - but they are such important years. He's just a few months from graduation and starting "his" life.
Happy Birthday, Heathen #1. I may threaten to toss you out and put your stuff on the front porch. And, you may eventually do something that makes me angry enough to do it. But, you will always have a home here at the Zoo.
Friday, March 25, 2016
Things I've Said That Make Me Pause
Every parent does it, whether they admit to it or not. Whether said in anger, confusion, worry, excitement - we say things that make us pause and ask ourselves, "Did I just say that?"
These sayings change over the years. When the Heathens were younger, I remember saying the following:
WHY is there a stuffed dinosaur in the refrigerator?
WHY would you color your stomach with a blue permanent marker?
As the Heathens aged, what I said changed:
WHY would you hit your brother with a broom?
WHY is there a jar of lightening bugs in the refrigerator?
In the past week, I've racked up some new ones. Things I NEVER thought I would say:
No pooping on the sidewalk! (Yelled at the top of my lungs and directed at one of our dogs during a snowstorm.
No goats running a-muck in the basement! (Instructions to a Heathen to close the pen when one of our goats kidded too early and we brought her in the house.)
Don't look at me in that tone of voice! (Pick a Heathen - I've said it too all of them in the past week. At ages 17, 13, and 10 - all three have that "tone" to their face when they are angry with me.)
WHY is there an empty plastic bowl in the freezer?
WHY does everyone have SHOES in my bathroom? This is NOT YOUR BATHROOM!
These sayings change over the years. When the Heathens were younger, I remember saying the following:
WHY is there a stuffed dinosaur in the refrigerator?
WHY would you color your stomach with a blue permanent marker?
As the Heathens aged, what I said changed:
WHY would you hit your brother with a broom?
WHY is there a jar of lightening bugs in the refrigerator?
In the past week, I've racked up some new ones. Things I NEVER thought I would say:
No pooping on the sidewalk! (Yelled at the top of my lungs and directed at one of our dogs during a snowstorm.
No goats running a-muck in the basement! (Instructions to a Heathen to close the pen when one of our goats kidded too early and we brought her in the house.)
Don't look at me in that tone of voice! (Pick a Heathen - I've said it too all of them in the past week. At ages 17, 13, and 10 - all three have that "tone" to their face when they are angry with me.)
WHY is there an empty plastic bowl in the freezer?
WHY does everyone have SHOES in my bathroom? This is NOT YOUR BATHROOM!
Wednesday, March 9, 2016
Costume Changes
There are weeks where I'm positive that I'm stuck in the movie Ground Hog's Day with Bill Murray. However, my movie title would be Halloween with the Heathens. Everyday requires multiple costume changes - forget the "wearing of different hats."
I originally ran into the concept of costume changes years ago when Heathen #2 was part of the local ballet company. During dress rehearsals, while I was chaperoning a group of third graders dressed as mice, I overheard some of the mothers of the older dancers discussing how one of the girls had a "30 second change" and a "45 second costume change" at different points during the production. And I remember thinking it was crazy - that some of the girls were playing so many roles that they had 6 or 7 costume changes with just seconds to get back out onto the stage.
Fast forward to this past weekend - and I was the one with multiple costume changes with only minutes to spare to get back on "stage!"
It was a typical Saturday at the Zoo (frighteningly typical): Heathen #1 was out of town for the weekend, attending his LAST Youth Rally at Living Waters. With him leaving Friday at dinner time and not returning until after lunch on Sunday - he left me short on a driver for the weekend (rather inconsiderate, if you ask me!). Heathen #2 had indoor guard practice from 8am-noon, and then was leaving from there to travel with the group to Tyrone for a competition. Heathen #3 had a swim meet at IUP and had to be in the water by 7 am. The Asst. Zookeeper was my dedicated driver for Heathen #3 - which left me with Heathen #2.
Unfortunately, I had an AYSO inter-regional scheduling meeting at 9am that same morning! This meeting typically lasts several hours.
So I started my morning with this outfit and attending a 3 hour scheduling meeting:
Then I quickly changed costumes and drove an hour from the meeting to the swim meet. I managed to see two of Heathen #3's events! Of course, the event I missed was the event that he finally met his goal of qualifying for districts in the 100 backstroke. Bless the Asst. Zookeeper's heart and the coaches' hearts for taking pictures for me!
As soon as the meet ended, the Asst. Zookeeper and I packed up the littlest Heathen. I changed costumes yet again! This time, it was an hour and 20 minute drive to Tyrone to see Heathen #2's performance with the indoor guard. We made it with just MINUTES to spare before his group took the floor! Bonus - got to see my Skinny Minnie's group perform as well!
And, finally, an hour and a half drive home. I made my final costume change and crawled into bed - EXHAUSTED. Zeus was quite unhappy as it was well past his 8pm bedtime. As soon as I crawled in bed, so did he.
It was a CRAZY day - but a great day for the Zoo. The next morning, we were up and out of the house before 9am. The Asst Zookeeper says we have a weekend off in April - of 2030 - if we are lucky.
I originally ran into the concept of costume changes years ago when Heathen #2 was part of the local ballet company. During dress rehearsals, while I was chaperoning a group of third graders dressed as mice, I overheard some of the mothers of the older dancers discussing how one of the girls had a "30 second change" and a "45 second costume change" at different points during the production. And I remember thinking it was crazy - that some of the girls were playing so many roles that they had 6 or 7 costume changes with just seconds to get back out onto the stage.
Fast forward to this past weekend - and I was the one with multiple costume changes with only minutes to spare to get back on "stage!"
It was a typical Saturday at the Zoo (frighteningly typical): Heathen #1 was out of town for the weekend, attending his LAST Youth Rally at Living Waters. With him leaving Friday at dinner time and not returning until after lunch on Sunday - he left me short on a driver for the weekend (rather inconsiderate, if you ask me!). Heathen #2 had indoor guard practice from 8am-noon, and then was leaving from there to travel with the group to Tyrone for a competition. Heathen #3 had a swim meet at IUP and had to be in the water by 7 am. The Asst. Zookeeper was my dedicated driver for Heathen #3 - which left me with Heathen #2.
Unfortunately, I had an AYSO inter-regional scheduling meeting at 9am that same morning! This meeting typically lasts several hours.
So I started my morning with this outfit and attending a 3 hour scheduling meeting:
Then I quickly changed costumes and drove an hour from the meeting to the swim meet. I managed to see two of Heathen #3's events! Of course, the event I missed was the event that he finally met his goal of qualifying for districts in the 100 backstroke. Bless the Asst. Zookeeper's heart and the coaches' hearts for taking pictures for me!
As soon as the meet ended, the Asst. Zookeeper and I packed up the littlest Heathen. I changed costumes yet again! This time, it was an hour and 20 minute drive to Tyrone to see Heathen #2's performance with the indoor guard. We made it with just MINUTES to spare before his group took the floor! Bonus - got to see my Skinny Minnie's group perform as well!
And, finally, an hour and a half drive home. I made my final costume change and crawled into bed - EXHAUSTED. Zeus was quite unhappy as it was well past his 8pm bedtime. As soon as I crawled in bed, so did he.
It was a CRAZY day - but a great day for the Zoo. The next morning, we were up and out of the house before 9am. The Asst Zookeeper says we have a weekend off in April - of 2030 - if we are lucky.
Thursday, February 18, 2016
The Joy of Volunteering
For those that know me (whether they know me slightly or know me well) are currently wondering if this post's title is sarcastic or sincere - as it would well be either.
I'm one of those souls that has the world "YES!" stamped on my forehead in invisible ink that only those requiring help in some method or another can see - usually from quite a distance (I think the ink flashes sometimes!). If someone asks me to help, I simply can NOT help myself. I say yes.
I have been a classroom parent, a visiting reader, a committee member (I've lost track of the number of committees), a board member, a treasurer, a fundraiser, an organizer, a chaperon, a team parent, a party planner - you name it, I've probably done it (or considered it before the Asst. Zookeeper put his foot down and told me NO MORE!)
Recently, just this past Saturday, my longest running affiliation with a volunteer organization came to an end. I've been counting down to this day for MONTHS. I felt the need to build a paper chain to count down the meetings remaining until "Freedom Day!" After approximately 12 years, I was ready to be finished.
Saturday was INCREDIBLY STRESSFUL for me - I was handing over responsibilities. Did I have everything prepped so that the new person was prepared to the best of my abilities? Was there any more I could have done to make the transition any smoother? Did I find the best replacement for my jobs?
During the banquet, I was recognized (much to my horror - I'd much rather fade into the wallpaper). But all these young scouts knew who it was that organized the trips, and the camps, and the fundraisers, etc. I wish I could have hugged them all - watching their hands shoot into the air because the knew the answer and wanted to be called on to give it was SO HEARTWARMING for me.
Those little hands straining with knowledge of who had loved them, was why that ink stamp exists on my forehead. It was never for the parents (many of which I could have smacked at one time or another). It was never for the recognition. It was never for the "power" of being in charge. It was for those scouts - they deserved the best program we were capable of providing. And, I believe, I helped provide that program for the past many years.
At the banquet, I handed everything over - and I went home full of worries and doubts. Not doubts in the people replacing me. I'm easily replaceable. All it takes is a warm body and some dedication. It was more a worry for the future of the group. I hope those taking over love the program and the scouts the way I have.
In addition to the scouts themselves, I have met some of the most AMAZING adults along the journey. People who share my values and dedication to children. Some friendships are built over the course of years as people slowly get to know one another. Other friendships are built in the matter of a second, as one person recognizes a dedicated volunteer in the other - my best friend was found this way.
So, to the Cub Scouts - THANK YOU for the program you have given my Heathens over the past 12 years. They have learned skills and abilities that are unique to the program and that will serve them well in life. THANK YOU to the other volunteers for every time you offered to help me when I seemed overwhelmed - whether I accepted the offer of help or not, the OFFER matter much more than you can imagine. THANK YOU to the scouts - you accepted that I was allowed to participate and have fun WITH you. For every story you told me, every project you shared with me, every achievement you showed me - THANK YOU.
As for the boys currently in the Pack, you will always be "mine" - just like the scouts that have bridged out ahead of you. I still find delight in hearing about college plans, good grades, adventures, etc. I know you all by name and will be keeping an eye out for you in the years to come.
While I say it with a sniffle, I am ready to BE PREPARED for the next chapter in my volunteering life. Although, I will never forget where it started. Cub Scout Pack 217 - thank you.
I'm one of those souls that has the world "YES!" stamped on my forehead in invisible ink that only those requiring help in some method or another can see - usually from quite a distance (I think the ink flashes sometimes!). If someone asks me to help, I simply can NOT help myself. I say yes.
I have been a classroom parent, a visiting reader, a committee member (I've lost track of the number of committees), a board member, a treasurer, a fundraiser, an organizer, a chaperon, a team parent, a party planner - you name it, I've probably done it (or considered it before the Asst. Zookeeper put his foot down and told me NO MORE!)
Recently, just this past Saturday, my longest running affiliation with a volunteer organization came to an end. I've been counting down to this day for MONTHS. I felt the need to build a paper chain to count down the meetings remaining until "Freedom Day!" After approximately 12 years, I was ready to be finished.
Saturday was INCREDIBLY STRESSFUL for me - I was handing over responsibilities. Did I have everything prepped so that the new person was prepared to the best of my abilities? Was there any more I could have done to make the transition any smoother? Did I find the best replacement for my jobs?
During the banquet, I was recognized (much to my horror - I'd much rather fade into the wallpaper). But all these young scouts knew who it was that organized the trips, and the camps, and the fundraisers, etc. I wish I could have hugged them all - watching their hands shoot into the air because the knew the answer and wanted to be called on to give it was SO HEARTWARMING for me.
Those little hands straining with knowledge of who had loved them, was why that ink stamp exists on my forehead. It was never for the parents (many of which I could have smacked at one time or another). It was never for the recognition. It was never for the "power" of being in charge. It was for those scouts - they deserved the best program we were capable of providing. And, I believe, I helped provide that program for the past many years.
At the banquet, I handed everything over - and I went home full of worries and doubts. Not doubts in the people replacing me. I'm easily replaceable. All it takes is a warm body and some dedication. It was more a worry for the future of the group. I hope those taking over love the program and the scouts the way I have.
In addition to the scouts themselves, I have met some of the most AMAZING adults along the journey. People who share my values and dedication to children. Some friendships are built over the course of years as people slowly get to know one another. Other friendships are built in the matter of a second, as one person recognizes a dedicated volunteer in the other - my best friend was found this way.
So, to the Cub Scouts - THANK YOU for the program you have given my Heathens over the past 12 years. They have learned skills and abilities that are unique to the program and that will serve them well in life. THANK YOU to the other volunteers for every time you offered to help me when I seemed overwhelmed - whether I accepted the offer of help or not, the OFFER matter much more than you can imagine. THANK YOU to the scouts - you accepted that I was allowed to participate and have fun WITH you. For every story you told me, every project you shared with me, every achievement you showed me - THANK YOU.
As for the boys currently in the Pack, you will always be "mine" - just like the scouts that have bridged out ahead of you. I still find delight in hearing about college plans, good grades, adventures, etc. I know you all by name and will be keeping an eye out for you in the years to come.
While I say it with a sniffle, I am ready to BE PREPARED for the next chapter in my volunteering life. Although, I will never forget where it started. Cub Scout Pack 217 - thank you.
Monday, February 15, 2016
8 At ONCE!
At the beginning of November, Kohl's was holding a great sale with a rebate on small appliances. And I saw an electric griddle - something the Asst. Zookeeper has talked about for years, but we could never find one exactly like he wanted (his specifications were exact). This griddle was everything that he wanted. So I bought it with the intention of saving it for Christmas.
I gave it to him long before Thanksgiving and didn't give him anything at Christmas.
He was so happy to be able to make 8 grilled cheese sandwiches at once that he could hardly contain himself. I was summoned to the kitchen to witness the "awesomeness" of 8 grilled cheeses happening at one time!
All I could think of was the Brave Little Tailor with Mickey Mouse when he's so excited about killing flies, but everyone things he's talking about giants:
Last weekend, he made French toast and I heard him talking to himself in the kitchen, "Look at THAT!" And I knew that he was again using his griddle.
So if anyone hears my Asst. Zookeeper talking about "8 at once," please know that he was not out slaying giants. He was making dinner - for which, I am ever grateful.
I gave it to him long before Thanksgiving and didn't give him anything at Christmas.
He was so happy to be able to make 8 grilled cheese sandwiches at once that he could hardly contain himself. I was summoned to the kitchen to witness the "awesomeness" of 8 grilled cheeses happening at one time!
All I could think of was the Brave Little Tailor with Mickey Mouse when he's so excited about killing flies, but everyone things he's talking about giants:
King: Did you kill seven [giants] with one blow?
Mickey: Uh, yes, your honor, and how!
King: ...well, how?
Mickey: I was all alone, I heard them coming, I looked up, and I was surrounded!
King: Yes?
Mickey: They were here, there, everywhere! A whole bunch of them! They came at me from the right, the left, right, left, left, right!
King: Yes, yes, go on!
Mickey: They were coming closer! The fight was on! I swung and missed! I missed and swung! I swung again and again and again! They were right on top of me!
King: And then?
Mickey: And then, I let 'em have it!
—Mickey Mouse
Last weekend, he made French toast and I heard him talking to himself in the kitchen, "Look at THAT!" And I knew that he was again using his griddle.
So if anyone hears my Asst. Zookeeper talking about "8 at once," please know that he was not out slaying giants. He was making dinner - for which, I am ever grateful.
Thursday, February 11, 2016
Simple Joys: Time & Conversation
The Asst. Zookeeper and I have never been ones to exchange gifts. We watch other couples worry about the "perfect gift" for Christmas, birthdays - and now Valentine's Day is just around the corner.
It entertains me when people treat us as lepers because we don't have huge plans for the upcoming weekend. "What do you MEAN you aren't doing ANYTHING special?" Pair this shocked question with a horrified look on the face of the woman who was painting my nails. Sometimes, I'm then pitied as though I don't know how horrible my life is - I'm told that there is STILL TIME to make plans and I can still go shopping.
Occasionally, I feel the urge to lie to these people (acquaintances, friends, and even family) just to avoid the entire conversation. I look at it as being a lie of convenience. I don't have to be treated as though I'm abnormal. I don't feel the need to attempt and defend our decisions. And, yet, I continue to tell people:
No - we do not have holiday/birthday plans. No - we do not exchange gifts.
YES - we are happy.
And here is why we are happy. Almost 20 years ago, when the Zoo didn't yet exist, we were NOT the Head and Asst. Zookeeper. We were simply US - and we had no extra money. Buying gifts and going out for fancy dinners wasn't an option at that point. So we learned to spend TIME together. And we learned to TALK to each other.
And now, 20 years later, it entertains me when the Asst. Zookeeper and I are in a different room from the Heathens and I overhear one of them ask where we are. It cracks me up to hear one of them respond, "They're in the dining room. But don't go in because they are TALKING." This is said with the same inflection of voice as though we are doing something else. And the Asst. Zookeeper chuckles as well.
So, no, we have no plans for Valentine's Day. And we have no plans for my birthday, which is just a few days later. And I DO NOT feel slighted, or unloved, or un-valued. This is simply how we work.
And, because the Asst. Zookeeper just walked in the door from work, I'm finished for this round. Now, as we taught our Heathens when they were little: Go find something to do for awhile. We're talking.
It entertains me when people treat us as lepers because we don't have huge plans for the upcoming weekend. "What do you MEAN you aren't doing ANYTHING special?" Pair this shocked question with a horrified look on the face of the woman who was painting my nails. Sometimes, I'm then pitied as though I don't know how horrible my life is - I'm told that there is STILL TIME to make plans and I can still go shopping.
Occasionally, I feel the urge to lie to these people (acquaintances, friends, and even family) just to avoid the entire conversation. I look at it as being a lie of convenience. I don't have to be treated as though I'm abnormal. I don't feel the need to attempt and defend our decisions. And, yet, I continue to tell people:
No - we do not have holiday/birthday plans. No - we do not exchange gifts.
YES - we are happy.
And here is why we are happy. Almost 20 years ago, when the Zoo didn't yet exist, we were NOT the Head and Asst. Zookeeper. We were simply US - and we had no extra money. Buying gifts and going out for fancy dinners wasn't an option at that point. So we learned to spend TIME together. And we learned to TALK to each other.
And now, 20 years later, it entertains me when the Asst. Zookeeper and I are in a different room from the Heathens and I overhear one of them ask where we are. It cracks me up to hear one of them respond, "They're in the dining room. But don't go in because they are TALKING." This is said with the same inflection of voice as though we are doing something else. And the Asst. Zookeeper chuckles as well.
So, no, we have no plans for Valentine's Day. And we have no plans for my birthday, which is just a few days later. And I DO NOT feel slighted, or unloved, or un-valued. This is simply how we work.
And, because the Asst. Zookeeper just walked in the door from work, I'm finished for this round. Now, as we taught our Heathens when they were little: Go find something to do for awhile. We're talking.
Monday, January 25, 2016
The Difficult Part of the Season
The swimming season is starting to wind to an end - slowly. The swimmers will tell you that it lasts FOREVER. Most of the parents will agree. For those that swim for their local YMCAs, the season starts at the end of August and can run through March or April - depending on the quality of your swimmer.
Swimmer parents will all agree - January and the beginning of February are the seasons of burnout. Swimmers don't want to go to practice or another meet. Parents don't want to drive to another pool. Mothers weep at the idea of doing another load of towels. And the poor child that announces during this season that he has lost his goggles or ripped his cap is likely never to be heard from again. These children of the broken goggles don't "quit," they simply vanish. No one asks questions.
Chlorine has become so ingrained in the smell of my Heathens that I no longer notice it, and I find it rather insulting when strangers comment on my Heathen smelling like a pool. Considering what A LOT of teenage boys smell like, the public should be THANKFUL that mine smell of chlorine!
But we have reached the end of another era - Heathen #1 is finished with home swim meets. After years of being at the pool at UPJ for start practice, he won't be going there to compete any longer. Last week, the team held Senior Day - and the Asst. Zookeeper and I were lucky enough to escort our Heathen #1 around the pool deck. They even took nice photos of us (I haven't seen them). I just find it funny that this process takes place in the middle of the meet so that the kids are all soaking wet, and their hair is sticking up in all directions from pulling off their cap. Definitely, nice photos were taken.
It was a great meet for the Heathen. He managed to drop more time from his events. Although we could never tell him that he did well - he becomes complacent. He always needs another push to get him over the next hurdle in front of him. Maybe someday, we'll tell him that he swam a strong race - just not until after districts are over!
Heathen #1 is in Lane 3 with the red swim cap in all three videos. Enjoy!
Swimmer parents will all agree - January and the beginning of February are the seasons of burnout. Swimmers don't want to go to practice or another meet. Parents don't want to drive to another pool. Mothers weep at the idea of doing another load of towels. And the poor child that announces during this season that he has lost his goggles or ripped his cap is likely never to be heard from again. These children of the broken goggles don't "quit," they simply vanish. No one asks questions.
Chlorine has become so ingrained in the smell of my Heathens that I no longer notice it, and I find it rather insulting when strangers comment on my Heathen smelling like a pool. Considering what A LOT of teenage boys smell like, the public should be THANKFUL that mine smell of chlorine!
It was a great meet for the Heathen. He managed to drop more time from his events. Although we could never tell him that he did well - he becomes complacent. He always needs another push to get him over the next hurdle in front of him. Maybe someday, we'll tell him that he swam a strong race - just not until after districts are over!
Heathen #1 is in Lane 3 with the red swim cap in all three videos. Enjoy!
Thursday, January 7, 2016
2016 Brings HOPE
The first week of the New Year has come and gone - and there is still a Christmas tree in my living room, garlands on the stair banisters, and other miscellaneous holiday decorations gathering dust about the Zoo. At our front door, you will still be greeted by a wooden plaque that states "We Still Believe" - and we do.
But the glitter of the season has past. Visiting family has returned home. Presents have been opened, shared, and become part of the Zoo. Cookies have gone from "Don't eat those!" to "SOMEBODY EAT THESE!"
(I should clarify that statement: I don't bake. Bad things happen when I attempt to do so. The Asst. Zookeeper and the Heathens do all the baking at the Zoo.)
The calendar has flipped to January and the Heathens are back at school (other than the middle one that is currently ill).
This is the time of year that I start to panic. I'm a planner and a plotter, a list maker and a stacker of things that need done, taken care of, or dealt with in some manner. And at the beginning of the year, it dawns on me that it will be gone in a flash and I think of all that must be accomplished in the next 365 days - and I panic, because I can't possibly accomplish half of it, much less all.
However, this Sunday's comics made me laugh.
ONE EXTRA DAY! That's all I needed for this year to be successful. Just one day!
This comic strip is now on the refrigerator where I can see it every day. I guard my fridge space carefully as it is easy to lose things in clips and magnets - especially as I have Heathens that think EVERYTHING should be put there.
The Heathens have jokingly asked if I think one day is enough. My answer is, "I hope so."
Happy New Year from the Zoo.
But the glitter of the season has past. Visiting family has returned home. Presents have been opened, shared, and become part of the Zoo. Cookies have gone from "Don't eat those!" to "SOMEBODY EAT THESE!"
(I should clarify that statement: I don't bake. Bad things happen when I attempt to do so. The Asst. Zookeeper and the Heathens do all the baking at the Zoo.)
The calendar has flipped to January and the Heathens are back at school (other than the middle one that is currently ill).
This is the time of year that I start to panic. I'm a planner and a plotter, a list maker and a stacker of things that need done, taken care of, or dealt with in some manner. And at the beginning of the year, it dawns on me that it will be gone in a flash and I think of all that must be accomplished in the next 365 days - and I panic, because I can't possibly accomplish half of it, much less all.
However, this Sunday's comics made me laugh.
ONE EXTRA DAY! That's all I needed for this year to be successful. Just one day!
This comic strip is now on the refrigerator where I can see it every day. I guard my fridge space carefully as it is easy to lose things in clips and magnets - especially as I have Heathens that think EVERYTHING should be put there.
The Heathens have jokingly asked if I think one day is enough. My answer is, "I hope so."
Happy New Year from the Zoo.
Friday, December 25, 2015
Photo Montage
Years ago, I gave up on posed, professional Christmas pictures of the Heathens. While some families can make that work, our Zoo is not one of them. Occasionally we have managed a good one. However, they rarely capture what are truly my Heathens' personalities.
I changed to using snapshots of them several years ago. Not only is it more fun, but I get laughs and "I LOVED your Christmas card photo" instead of "they looked so nice."
This year, I started to run out of time and realized I still had not sent out Christmas cards. Which meant loading the Heathens into a car, driving to a local location that was "Heathenish" to me, unloading Heathens, and giving instructions.
My instructions were: Go stand on that rock and do something.
Here's what I got in response:
Amazingly, no one ended up in the water or actually got pushed off the rock. No one was hurt and there was neither tears nor blood - TOTAL SUCCESS!
I changed to using snapshots of them several years ago. Not only is it more fun, but I get laughs and "I LOVED your Christmas card photo" instead of "they looked so nice."
This year, I started to run out of time and realized I still had not sent out Christmas cards. Which meant loading the Heathens into a car, driving to a local location that was "Heathenish" to me, unloading Heathens, and giving instructions.
My instructions were: Go stand on that rock and do something.
Here's what I got in response:
Although it didn't make the card, this last one is my favorite. Not only are they all together, but they are STILL (not a common occurrence!).
Merry Christmas from the Zoo. We hope your holidays are everything you want them to be.
Monday, December 21, 2015
Rogue Sheep & Grumpy Angels
Christmas nativity plays are one of my FAVORITE parts of Christmas. I've heard people groan about it being the "same story" every year (of COURSE it is - so is Fiddler On The Roof!). But every group does it a little differently, and I love watching the children age up through the roles.
Many, many years ago, Heathen #1 was a sheep. His first year in the nativity play, Heathen #2 was too small to participate and Heathen #3 didn't even exist! And I remember being mortified when MY SHEEP was the one that wouldn't stand where he was supposed to stand. He was quiet (a small blessing, I thought at the time), but he meandered around the sanctuary and inspected decorations. When it was time to walk to the front with the other children, he flatly refused. During the song he was to sing with the other children, his lips were clenched tightly closed.
Ready to cry in my pew as I juggled a very small Heathen #2, all I wanted to do was snatch up my older child and run from the building. But as I glanced around for the glares I knew I was receiving, I was shocked to see people giggling and pointing and smiling.
No one in that sanctuary cared about Heathen #1's misbehavior - except the Asst. Zookeeper and me.
I remember the following year being a little better and Heathen #1 a bit more cooperative. Then Heathen #2 was old enough to be a sheep and Heathen #1 graduated to shepherd - I spent most of that year threatening Heathen #1 what I was going to do if he hooked his brother around the neck with his shepherd's crook one more time. Turned out, that shepherd's crook was the only reason Heathen #2 didn't wander about. And the congregation smiled and pointed.
The year that the older two Heathens were BOTH shepherds was the year of the battle of the shepherds' crooks - no injuries to report! We used plastic, hollow crooks which couldn't do much damage. Despite the Star Wars light-saber type battle in the background of the nativity scene - the congregation was still smiling and pointing. And telling me at the end of service about how much they loved the "spunk" in my Heathens.
Heathen #3 made his own debut as a sheep and a shepherd when he was old enough. I had a bit better behavior from the Heathens at that point because I was running the play for several years and could provide "momma looks" when needed during practice. But, there were the typical small Heathen antics from that child as well.
As the Heathens have aged through the roles of sheep, shepherd, the wise men, the angel Gabriel, and Joseph, and finally to narrator and stage crew, the Heathens have learned their roles - as well as the story in a way that many adults don't.
This year, the oldest two Heathens were originally on stage crew. However, Heathen #1 was quickly placed on "rogue sheep & angel" duty - trying to keep three small children from escaping the back of the narthex in an attempt to get to the nursery that holds the toys. By the end of the play, he was exhausted - and I was laughing!
Now as we walk into these nativity plays, we try to guess which of the children will be the rogue sheep or the grumpy angel that won't cooperate - and we look forward to seeing them. This year, we had both! And the Asst. Zookeeper and I were thrilled to see them - not only are they adorably cute, but they remind us of the years that it was our Heathens in those roles.
The youngest Heathen played Joseph this year - and took his role quite seriously. He did a wonderful job. All of the children did a wonderful job.
But next Christmas, the Asst. Zookeeper and I will still be laying bets on which will be the rogue sheep or the next grumpy angel. It isn't a true Christmas nativity play without them.
Ready to cry in my pew as I juggled a very small Heathen #2, all I wanted to do was snatch up my older child and run from the building. But as I glanced around for the glares I knew I was receiving, I was shocked to see people giggling and pointing and smiling.
No one in that sanctuary cared about Heathen #1's misbehavior - except the Asst. Zookeeper and me.
I remember the following year being a little better and Heathen #1 a bit more cooperative. Then Heathen #2 was old enough to be a sheep and Heathen #1 graduated to shepherd - I spent most of that year threatening Heathen #1 what I was going to do if he hooked his brother around the neck with his shepherd's crook one more time. Turned out, that shepherd's crook was the only reason Heathen #2 didn't wander about. And the congregation smiled and pointed.
The year that the older two Heathens were BOTH shepherds was the year of the battle of the shepherds' crooks - no injuries to report! We used plastic, hollow crooks which couldn't do much damage. Despite the Star Wars light-saber type battle in the background of the nativity scene - the congregation was still smiling and pointing. And telling me at the end of service about how much they loved the "spunk" in my Heathens.
Heathen #3 made his own debut as a sheep and a shepherd when he was old enough. I had a bit better behavior from the Heathens at that point because I was running the play for several years and could provide "momma looks" when needed during practice. But, there were the typical small Heathen antics from that child as well.
As the Heathens have aged through the roles of sheep, shepherd, the wise men, the angel Gabriel, and Joseph, and finally to narrator and stage crew, the Heathens have learned their roles - as well as the story in a way that many adults don't.
This year, the oldest two Heathens were originally on stage crew. However, Heathen #1 was quickly placed on "rogue sheep & angel" duty - trying to keep three small children from escaping the back of the narthex in an attempt to get to the nursery that holds the toys. By the end of the play, he was exhausted - and I was laughing!
Now as we walk into these nativity plays, we try to guess which of the children will be the rogue sheep or the grumpy angel that won't cooperate - and we look forward to seeing them. This year, we had both! And the Asst. Zookeeper and I were thrilled to see them - not only are they adorably cute, but they remind us of the years that it was our Heathens in those roles.
 |
| Joseph |
 |
| Speaking with the angel, Gabriel |
 |
| Grumpy Angel - 2015 |
 |
| She stood where she was supposed to stand. Then she SAT DOWN and was swinging her feet. Definitely our favorite part of this year's nativity play! |
Tuesday, November 24, 2015
Be Polite To The Dust Bunnies - They Live Here
Dear Zoo,
I know that you currently feel unloved and unappreciated considering your current state of dishevelment. Please know that it is not that I don't care for you. I just have had to choose between upkeep and Heathens. Unfortunately for you, the Heathens have won.
The semester is almost at an end and I will have a chance to get you "caught up" and clean. Discarded objects will no longer clutter every horizontal surface. Dishes will no longer be stacked on the counter. Floors will be vacuumed and shelves will be dusted. Laundry will be gathered up and the floor will no longer be home to randomly discarded socks and shoes.
Belongings will get tidied up and put back in their places. Papers will be organized and filed away or discarded - not placed in stacks to be dealt with "later."
Until then, please bear with me, Zoo. I do love you - you house my Heathens so well and give us a safe place to call HOME. But this semester has been a rough one. I'll admit to hardly keeping my head above water on many days.
I know you understand my need to choose the Heathens first. With the oldest Heathen so close to leaving, that need is even greater because I can see the change growing closer.
Zoo, your time to shine will come soon enough. Until then, please be polite to the dust bunnies. (I hear they can be rather friendly.)
Love Always,
The Zookeeper
I know that you currently feel unloved and unappreciated considering your current state of dishevelment. Please know that it is not that I don't care for you. I just have had to choose between upkeep and Heathens. Unfortunately for you, the Heathens have won.
The semester is almost at an end and I will have a chance to get you "caught up" and clean. Discarded objects will no longer clutter every horizontal surface. Dishes will no longer be stacked on the counter. Floors will be vacuumed and shelves will be dusted. Laundry will be gathered up and the floor will no longer be home to randomly discarded socks and shoes.
Belongings will get tidied up and put back in their places. Papers will be organized and filed away or discarded - not placed in stacks to be dealt with "later."
Until then, please bear with me, Zoo. I do love you - you house my Heathens so well and give us a safe place to call HOME. But this semester has been a rough one. I'll admit to hardly keeping my head above water on many days.
I know you understand my need to choose the Heathens first. With the oldest Heathen so close to leaving, that need is even greater because I can see the change growing closer.
Zoo, your time to shine will come soon enough. Until then, please be polite to the dust bunnies. (I hear they can be rather friendly.)
Love Always,
The Zookeeper
Thursday, November 19, 2015
The Road Less Travelled - But An Excellent Road
It happens every fall on Facebook. The pictures of college acceptance letters start to pop up with increasing frequency along with pictures of ecstatic parents and high school seniors. "She got accepted to her first choice! We couldn't be more proud!" The excitement is palpable. And I grin every time I see such a post as I remember getting my own acceptance letter.
And, yet, when these same parents talk to my oldest Heathen, they attempt to TALK HIM OUT of his choice. "Have you thought of college? You should think about going to college instead." And Heathen #1, understandably, comes homes irritated and sometimes downright angry. He knows that he has made the best choice for HIM. And he knows he has our full support.
It is with GREAT PRIDE that I announce Heathen #1 has chosen to continue to lead a life of service following high school graduation. He has chosen to join the US Navy and currently has a ship date of August 2, 2016.
The Asst. Zookeeper and I FULLY SUPPORT his choice for his future. Not only is it an excellent choice for him, but both of our families are NAVY families (with the random person in a different branch occasionally). We've raised our Heathens to serve and help others - how could we not support his choice?
And for the parents that have felt the need to ask me, "Are you okay with this?" My answer is: it really isn't MY choice. I can be a supportive Zookeeper and sign the delayed entry program papers (which I did). Or, my Heathen can turn 18 in March and sign himself - and leave wondering if his parents support his choice, if he made a good choice. No Heathen deserves to leave home with extra feelings of self doubt. Leaving home is momentous enough.
So, to the adults who feel the need to "poo-poo" my Heathen's choice of a future: mind your own business. You won't hear me ask YOUR child if they are ready for their students loans that will take them the next 30 years to pay off and aren't they worried that they won't find a job with that choice of major? You will hear me CONGRATULATE your child on their choice of a future that fits THEM.
Have the decency to give my Heathen the same courtesy, please.
Well done, Heathen. The Asst. Zookeeper and I are VERY PROUD of your choice in a future.
And, yet, when these same parents talk to my oldest Heathen, they attempt to TALK HIM OUT of his choice. "Have you thought of college? You should think about going to college instead." And Heathen #1, understandably, comes homes irritated and sometimes downright angry. He knows that he has made the best choice for HIM. And he knows he has our full support.
It is with GREAT PRIDE that I announce Heathen #1 has chosen to continue to lead a life of service following high school graduation. He has chosen to join the US Navy and currently has a ship date of August 2, 2016.
The Asst. Zookeeper and I FULLY SUPPORT his choice for his future. Not only is it an excellent choice for him, but both of our families are NAVY families (with the random person in a different branch occasionally). We've raised our Heathens to serve and help others - how could we not support his choice?
And for the parents that have felt the need to ask me, "Are you okay with this?" My answer is: it really isn't MY choice. I can be a supportive Zookeeper and sign the delayed entry program papers (which I did). Or, my Heathen can turn 18 in March and sign himself - and leave wondering if his parents support his choice, if he made a good choice. No Heathen deserves to leave home with extra feelings of self doubt. Leaving home is momentous enough.
So, to the adults who feel the need to "poo-poo" my Heathen's choice of a future: mind your own business. You won't hear me ask YOUR child if they are ready for their students loans that will take them the next 30 years to pay off and aren't they worried that they won't find a job with that choice of major? You will hear me CONGRATULATE your child on their choice of a future that fits THEM.
Have the decency to give my Heathen the same courtesy, please.
Well done, Heathen. The Asst. Zookeeper and I are VERY PROUD of your choice in a future.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)