Whirlwind Weekend, and Stuff

I had grand plans for a Saturday Six-Pack yesterday, but as often as not, my plans go awry, and I didn't get an opportunity to get it done.  Six packs and Sundays don't mix, I've learned from experience (at least until summertime), so we'll head in a different direction... and I'm going to work backwards, because sometimes that's just how things need to be done.

Tonight was my night to read to the boy.  Yes, we take turns, and the only time I really object is when The Walking Dead or True Blood is on.  We have to do some finagling if Sunday happens to be my night, at least when zombies or vampires are involved.  Anyway, that's beside the point.  Tonight, midway through a Green Lantern book, I started thinking about a time in the not-so-distant future when Andrew will (maybe?) be too old/too cool to want his old mom lying on the bed with him reading to him.  We've read stories with him almost every single night since he came home from the hospital (hence his 7th grade reading level, braggy Mommy moment).  But he's not always going to want us to do that, I think...and I will miss it.  And damned if I'm not doing it again--mixing the sweet with the bitter, anticipating the bad as the good happens, time-traveling in my brain instead of living in the moment.  I just can't help it.  But even if I weren't thinking it before, the weekend's events got me thinking about how independent and self-assured this kid of mine is (I have no idea HOW, considering he's my offspring, but I guess it means I'm doing something right?) and how damn fast he has grown up. 

I was waiting in the car in the Target parking lot today while the boys ran in to buy a birthday present for Andrew's friend.  My current favorite CD was playing, and I was Parking Lot People-Watching (This is one of my favorite things to do, usually in the grocery store lot.) Anyway, in the eleven minutes we were there, two separate young mothers parked near us, one beside, one in front.  Both of them had young daughters sleeping in carseats in the back seats, and both went through the process of unbuckling and carrying the still-sleeping toddlers into the store.  It made me nostalgic for the many, many times we went through that with Andrew, and a time when he was small enough to carry.  He's not now, for sure...he fell asleep on the couch one night a few weeks ago, and I attempted to carry him up the steps to his room and nearly died in the process.  

How does this tie together?  Well, the whole weekend was full of poignant "Andrew is Growing Up" moments.  Friday night, we took him to see Iron Man 3 at the theater.  Don't get me wrong, it was a frigging fantastic movie, and Robert Downey, Jr. is H.O.T. hot.  But the movie was so action-packed, so "in your face," that I damn near had a panic attack.  My heart was pounding, I was cringing, I was actually STRESSED OUT by the stuff going on in some of the action sequences!  And there's my kid, my seven year-old kid, just as nonchalant about the whole thing as he could be, and looking at me like I was crazy because I was holding on for dear life and having an adrenaline rush like I was wearing the suit and fighting the bad guy.  So there's one. 

On Saturday, we attended a graduation party for a dear friend of the family who recently graduated from JMU.  It was a lovely, low-key affair, complete with picnic food and impromptu kickball games for the kids.  Andrew had never been to the Natural Chimneys and wanted to explore, of course...there are some really cool geologic features!  But Andrew discovered a steep hiking trail that went behind the (very high) chimneys, and dragged his dad up to check it out.  He asked the right one of us, knowing my fear of heights.  He also wanted desperately to go into a cave we found at the base of the chimneys, although he was fearful/smart enough to try to get us to go in first.  And later in the day, when I had had enough and was ready to come home, he very casually decided to stay and get a ride home with the friends, because he wasn't finished playing.  So, we left him there...in spite of my "Are they going to remember he's there with all those other kids?" and "Hope he doesn't decide to go spelunking or climbing..." thoughts.  I watched in the rear view mirror as we drove away, half expecting him to wig out at the last minute and flag us down.  But he was focused on kickball and didn't bat an eye.  He casually came home several hours later...exhausted and filthy, but fine.  There's another!

The piece de resistance, though, was today...a trip to the Massanutten Water Park to celebrate the birthday of one of Andrew's best buds.  I was a little hesitant for a few reasons--I wasn't anxious to put my pasty-white ass on display in a bathing suit, for one.  I had visions of throngs of screaming kids not being supervised and risking life and limb running on wet concrete.  And most of all, I wasn't sure how my kid--my kid who is very cautious around water, my kid who can only doggie paddle and won't put his face the water--was going to handle the whole thing.  We got him a life jacket at the beginning, against his protests, but it turned out to be unnecessary.  The only place he might have needed it was in the "lazy river," and even that was so well patrolled by life-guards that I felt like I was at Checkpoint Charlie.  But this kid of mine went immediately to the water slides...the four-story HIGH water slides, no less and just DID IT with no hesitation...and loved it so much that I couldn't get him back to the lazy river to save my life.  I died a little bit the one time I braved the tower to see Andrew heading into the biggest of the slides, the ones you can only do with no tube, and the ones that I had not yet seen the end of...I had no idea where he was headed! But it was fine...(And it turns out it was myself that I should have been worried about.  Unlike the kids and every other adult I saw sail flawlessly out of the slide on their tubes and remain above water, I shot out of the god-forsaken thing at a hundred miles an hour, screaming my face off, only to fly off of my tube and end up completely UNDER the water.  Thank God my top stayed on, but that was the only way it could have been worse.  It was fun, though, in a really, really scary kind of way.)  The crux of this portion of the story is that Andrew was, once again, fine without me for long stretches of time and in quite unusual situations. 

Suffice it to say that I'm having growing pains.  My baby has grown up in the blink of an eye, and I know it will be just another few short blinks before he's driving, graduating, going off to college... and my role will change from protector and provider to mentor and bystander.  But I'm going to keep reading to him as long as he'll let me...and maybe someday, he'll read to me. 

PS...This guy, this cute little guy in the sushi fish tank at the Chinese restaurant on Mothers' Day?  Well, he was gone on Friday night.  I'm pretty sure I ate him.

Agrodolce

Yesterday was Mothers' Day.  I was treated to breakfast in bed and coupon for a "purple tree" from my two favorite guys, sent and received multiple mothers' day greetings from important people in my life, and stayed in bed so long that my back started to ache.

We met my mom and stepfather for lunch at our favorite Chinese buffet, and for a few minutes, it seemed like Wayne was going to slip into his usual "point out all the negatives" habit.  You know, like, "The crab legs are awfully small," or, "In places like this, there ain't nothin'..." but he settled down, and we enjoyed a very pleasant meal, complete with two of my favorite things, crab legs and sushi.  Ming Garden is like a tourist attraction, with its indoor fountain and koi pond, and fish tanks full of ichthyic creatures (yes, I had to look that up!). 

Much to everyone's horror, I called this the sushi tank--but I was the only one who had actually eaten any.  What were they worried about?

Mom was pleased with the treat and not having to cook, and we left mention of my brother by the wayside for the afternoon.  I had invited him to go, too, in spite of the fact that we aren't speaking, but he chose to ignore the text message entirely and not show up.  He can lie in the bed he's made, though. 

I wasn't quite ready to go home after lunch.  After all, the house was a wreck, and if we went home, I might feel compelled to clean it.  We took advantage of the beautiful, although cool and breezy, weather to head to the park, where we ran into friends of the family having their own Mothers' Day celebration.  The matriarch of that clan, a really good friend, made some well-meaning comments about Edna, and that's where the day went south for me.  In years past, I may have been angry at her for not knowing when to stop talking, but I know her comments came from the heart and stemmed from her missing Edna too, so forgiveness came easily.  The damage was done, however, and I was sad for the rest of the day, in spite of some very lovely moments. 

The beloved swan couple at the park are now proud parents of these fluffy little cygnets.  (I did NOT have to look that up!)  I could have watched them all day, and was happy to find this video so that I can. 

Andrew was excited that the train was open for the season and took two trips around with his daddy while I soaked up the sun and wiggled my toes in the cool grass.  Some boys were splashing in the creek beside me, chasing tadpoles and getting their shoes wet...I had to resist the teachery, mommy instincts to fuss at them for their language when they yelled, "Oh shit! There are thousands of them!"

I saw lots of interesting dogs while we were there, and was struck once again by how many dogs look like their owners!  You know who you are!  One more reason for me to be hesitant to get a dog--although in my case, I suppose any bitch would do.

There was one more task at hand after leaving the park, and that was the cemetery visit.  I was primed and ready for a good cry at this point, and the tears just rolled as I sat on the granite bench and mourned once again.  Does it ever stop?  It's a beautiful spot, but my favorite tree is dying.  I will be devastated when it does, and much of the beauty will be gone then, too.  This tree hugs me and shelters me when I am there, and when it's gone, visiting will be even lonelier. 

We made it home, finally, to the Sunday evening rush to get things ready for the week ahead...dinner made up of appetizer foods and an hour and a half with the heating pad playing Words With Friends and watching a Harry Potter movie with the boy as he cleaned up the devastation of the living room and an epic Star Wars battle.   All in all, it was a good day. 

And as seems to be my running theme, very bittersweet.

"It Is What It Is"

I've been wrong before--
(although I try not to be)
Sometimes things get in the way
and do not let me see
the way that I should understand
that things have always been;
And how I thought they were,
they'll never be again.

A glimpse, a song, a memory
Can all take me rushing back
Remember words that were spoken
Things that made me respond, react.
It's never only in my head,
these things that people do--
the problem comes when I don't change,
and they don't follow through!

But a friend is just a person
with the same flaws underneath--
the fears, the joys, the weaknesses
that they don't let me see.
So when I blame them harshly
for options that they choose,
I need to remember logically
that I disappoint them, too.

The Lake

The lake is many things to me.  On any given day, I have mixed feelings about the money we spend owning and maintaining our little place there, the oft-perceived hassle of packing, getting there, and keeping up with what amounts to two homes, and with the separation from home and activities that happen here without us when we're away.  For the better part of seven years, we've lived a dual life.  Life is different at the lake, for sure, and whether it's spring, summer, or fall, it's a big part of our family dynamic and who we "are." 

The lake has given us many wonderful things.  For starters, Andrew has had the opportunity to swim, to explore, to fish, to drive a boat (with assistance, of course), to rub elbows with the Coasties, and just to be outside doing stuff, which is lost on a lot of kids these days.  The quality time he has spent with his grandparents there is priceless.  He will always, always remember the golf cart parades, the "Wookie hunting" laps around the campground, the bonfires, and just getting to run around on his own and be independent as he traipses back and forth from our place to my dad's, or takes the opportunity to walk back up the hill from the dock on his own.  These days, as he tries to convince us that he needs a dog, he's taken on the dog-walking responsibilities for my dad, and he and Pooch have become great pals.  He's hung out in a "bar" playing ring toss and listening to music on many a summer night.  He knows how to tie off a boat, the difference between port and starboard, and a wealth of boating regulations that many adults would be hard pressed to recite. 

The lake has been a difficult place to be sometimes as well.  Anytime you have a lot of family members in a confined space, or just spending a lot of time together, there's bound to be conflict.  It can be nerve-wracking to try to juggle multiple agendas, to try to appease everyone's moods and attitudes.  I don't know about other families, but we're a testy bunch sometimes (present company included), and you just have to adopt the mindset of letting everyone do their own thing and letting things slide sometimes.  I like that Andrew sees that as well, though, because in spite of the bickering and the eye-rolling, we all still keep coming back together as a family, and that's what it's all about.  Edna's last summer is forever attached to the lake as well, and for me, that's part of what still makes it hard to be there sometimes.  Remembering the late night card games on the deck, her surprise at the purchase of the "new" boat, how she always organized things so well and never complained about the fact that the more of us that were there, the more work she had to do...all of that is hard for me, and I miss her as much there as I do anywhere, if not more so. 

This weekend was a mix of all of that, and more.  We got up early on Saturday morning to have breakfast at a local church that does a fundraiser on the first Saturday of each month.  It's a tradition that we go...it has been for years.  The food is good, nobody has to cook, there's a nice little playground behind the church...all of those are good reasons to go.  But when I've been up late, usually drinking, getting up early and getting dressed to go out is not high on my list of things to do.  I like my sleep, and I like sitting around in my jammies in the morning relaxing.  Can't do that on a Church Breakfast Saturday!  And there's the emotional baggage of remembering that we ALL used to go, and now it's just Dad.  After his recent health scares, it's been in the back of my head that we escaped a close call with him, not once, but several times this winter, and it's hard to watch him struggling with a cane, or losing his balance and just being...frail.  I'm not going to lie..I wigged a little bit Saturday morning, for all of the above reasons, then rescued myself by curling up on the couch with my favorite blanket watching 21 Jump Street and napping for most of the day. 

Weekends at the lake are also for going out.  There's a great place just around the bend from us that we like to go to, not just because of the atmosphere (waterfront, informal, bands most weekend nights), but also because it's close.  We've had a lot of great times there over the years (and through multiple owners and name changes).  Dad and Edna used to babysit for us while we all went out drinking and dancing...in the last few years, my dad hasn't really enjoyed a loud, crowded place anyway, and now that his hearing and perception is damaged, he really can't tolerate it.  So, we all had dinner together on the waterfront patio before we sent the oldest and the youngest home.  My dad had asked Andrew to spend the night with him, and I encourage their quality time whenever I can...besides the fact that it freed us up to stay out late.  We stayed and drank, people watching (middle-aged men in large, frou-frou Kentucky Derby hats and 50 year-old strippers with matching yellow hair, pants, and stiletto heels...she was a hot mess, but that's a different story), and for my sister and me, dancing to party favorites like The Cupid Shuffle and The Wobble.  It was a great night, and a fabulous way to end a day that had started in less than stellar fashion. 

I guess the point of all of this is that the lake is, for me, a dichotomy of happiness and sadness, relaxation and activity, togetherness and solitude...of beginnings and endings...transitions is maybe a better word, since the most important things don't end, they just change.  I vividly remember the "firsts" and "lasts" of so many things.  The beauty of the lake is that there is always a new memory, a new "first" to help ease the sting of a loss.  Here's to the start of a great season.