Birthday!

If I whine about how it's going today -- my actual birthday -- my sister Cyerspace Sarah will drive up here and pinch me.  I will be silent.  Let's just say some days don't go as we plan, do they?

No, I had a truly delightful weekend with Big Daddy Brent.  We stayed at the hotel where he took me out for dinner on my 23rd birthday, (ahem) 20 years ago.  We had fun hanging out together, window shopping, eating and such.  The highlight of the trip was going to see Mama Mia.

Now, I knew that Mama Mia had a pretty enthusiastic following, but I was not prepared for how excited these friends would get.  The large grandpa-type man next to me could not stop dancing . . . even though there wasn't really room for his dancing and my body in the seat next to him.

Grandma lady in front of us brought her daughter and three small granddaughters.  I wouldn't have done that.  There are some "adult situations."  It was all pretty funny stuff, but I wouldn't have brought the boys.  At one point small granddaughter turned to ask her mother about a certain word that was used . . . that had to do with the pollination of gymnosperm . . . sort of.  I thought, "Well, that kinda serves you right, lady."  Anyway, apparently grandma had gotten into an altercation with a man in the bar line and used a naughty word with him and then spun around and had a drink spilled on her.

"Serves you right," said daughter.

I don't know.  It was an interesting crowd.  Lots of cheering.  Lots of dancing.  That's the way to celebrate a birthday!

PLUS, Brent bought me a pink birthday cake.  Just right for a gal in a household of boys.  Think I'll eat some right now.

I Can Fix It

"I am so mad at you," said our dearly beloved reader-friend Sue. And then we were interrupted by another friend so I could not hear exactly why she was mad.

Do you remember the movie Protocol with Goldie Hawn?  No?  Just me, then.  The head of the protocol office asks Goldie, "My dear, do you know what you've done?"

Goldie answers something to the effect, "Whatever it is I can fix it. Or clean it. Or pay for it."

That was the thought going through my mind, "Whatever it is I can fix it. Or clean it. Or pay for it."

I panicked because the last thing in the world I wanted was to have Sue mad at me.

Turns out Sue thought it was time I stopped referring to myself as a fat mommy runner.  I will do my very best, but it is going to be a while before I can refer to myself as a runner -- period -- without laughing.

I haven't actually seen Coach Sam in several weeks; although, we have kept in touch by email.  Sue's husband Les has done a nice job acting as assistant coach.  I'm not sure he knows I've given him the title.  He will now.  One day my leg was bothering me and because he is a former phy ed teacher*, I asked him what he thought.

"Well, you should ask your coach,"  he said and then gave me a list of about 20 things to try.  It was excellent advice and my leg felt better in a couple of days.

Are you ever too old to need the comfort and advice and cheerleading from people a little farther along the path than you are? I surely hope not.

* I'd like to insert a joke here about him being especially helpful because he was an adaptive phy ed teacher, but . . .
 (1) I don't want to get into more trouble with Sue.
 (2) I don't want to show any disrespect to adaptive phy teachers who are amazing heroes in this particular house. ;)

More Track Meet Thoughts

Before Colin's last race on Monday I found myself in a panic, "That's too far!  He can't run that far!  How can he run that far?"

I was in such an awkward position. I didn't want him to the the autistic kid on the track team.  Above all else I want Colin to be one of the guys, but there in that moment I wanted to shout, "Shouldn't someone let the autistic kid have a head start????"

No.  Not if he's going to be just one of the guys on the track team.

And he didn't need it.  Sure he came in last, but he kept up.  And we found out later that for whatever reason he was running with older kids.

Sometimes "normal" kids come in last.

At dinner the subject of marriage came up.  I asked Colin if he thought he would get married.

"Yeah, I don't think I want to be single."

Panic set in my heart.  Will there ever be a girl with the patience for the kind of isolation Colin requires to recharge his batteries every day?  Will Colin learn to communicate effectively with her? How is this ever going to happen??

But wait. How many mothers of 13-year-old boys wonder if they are ever going to leave the nest. I would guess a lot.

What a gut-wrenching heart-ripping thing motherhood can be.

Curses to you, autism, for making it even more complicated.

Thank you, autism, for making my child the lovely interesting kid that he is.

Track Meet!

Hooray, the track team finally had their first meet.  Colin will not be going to the Olympics this year, but I don't think any other junior higher from this group will be either, so if you look at it that way . . .

It's hard to get a good start when you have your ears plugged because you don't like the starting pistol.  Maybe some ear plugs would help.  We should have sent some today.  I have to say that even though he didn't come blazing across the finish line in any of his races, he did look like a tough track team kid.  These weeks in the weight room are really paying off.

I found the whole thing sort of tortuous.  I would never have said I was a pushy athletic parent, but there I was from the sidelines, "KEEP YOUR HEAD DOWN!!!!! KEEP RUNNING!!!!!! DON'T QUIT NEAR THE EEEEEEEEEEND!!!!!"

Really the other junior high parents were most silent.  It was just me.  Horrifying.  I have seven more meets to practice good parent etiquette.

Diana's Dresses

My dear friend Roberta and I went to see Princess Diana's dresses yesterday at the Very Big Mall.  You are forbidden to take photos inside the exhibit.  One teeny, tiny little old lady in a large red hat was taken to the ground when she took a snap of the wedding dress.  You could, however, photograph this replica of the wedding cake all you liked:

Those decorations on the sides are different state symbols.  Thank goodness there were not state symbols on mine.  Just dessert-y goodness.  Can you imagine?  "Oh, look!  I got the Windsor coat of arms!"

Truthfully, I got a little misty in the wedding dress room.  I was 13 when she got married.  The perfect age to imagine there was an older charming prince waiting for me.  The dress is starting to yellow and it looks dated by today's wedding dress standards, but it is still certainly beautiful.  In fact, with the exception of a few dresses she wore during her engagement, all of the dresses displayed were beautiful and classic.  You could wear any one of them today and no one would notice that you were wearing something 15 plus years old.  She had good taste . . . or she was surrounded by people with good taste.  Either way.

In the end, even though my prince doesn't have as much nobility as hers, I think I got the better end of the deal, if not the clothes.  My prince is unarguably better looking and more emotionally stable.  He did not come with lands and castles, but he came with Jeremy and Shelby and that was a pretty good deal.

Plus, no one from the press is chasing me down.  Well, except for Jimmy who publishes a monthly paper for seniors.  We saw each other at preschool pick up.

He wanted to tell me he saw my letter in Newsweek.

Entry Form: Part 2

I left you hanging.

I did enter the race, so here we go . . .

Two and a half weeks.

I would like to tell you I am feeling more confident emotionally, but I am not.  Complete panic in my heart of hearts.  That being said, I do think I can drag my fat mommy butt across the finish line, so that's something.

I shall think about and look for signs of the life cycle of the gymnosperm on my way.

HA!  Ohhhhhhhhh!  Some days we are crazier than others.

Homework

Pine Cone resting comfortably after exhausting trip through reproduction

 Who is ready for a break from 7th grade homework besides me?  Last night we had this:

LIFE CYCLE OF THE GYMNOSPERM 

(which is a pine cone in case you didn't remember)

Fill in the blank.

The (blank) is (blank) and grows (blank) to (blank). (Blank) then (blank) and is released by (blank) which then (blank).

Okay.  I am exaggerating.  It wasn't that bad.  Or maybe it was worse.  Either way, I wanted to cry.  I am going to be 43 in a couple of weeks.  I have two bachelor's degrees and I just couldn't figure out what was supposed to go in those blanks.

Not that I was doing my son's homework for him, but reading comprehension isn't really his bag.  It helps if I can point to the area in the text where he needs to start looking.  Only last night (and this was not the first time), the text and the worksheet didn't seem to match.

This is good for me anyway.  Reading comprehension is my bag, so when I was Colin's age I zoomed through these worksheets.  I retained none of it.  Now I know the life cycle of the pine cone.

Soon to be track star and favorite s'daughter Shelby.

Track is getting less painful for Colin each passing day.  We have yet to go to a track meet.  It was cold and rainy -- and when I say "rainy" I mean snowy -- from Friday to Monday, so two meets were rescheduled.  We try again this Friday.  I will keep you posted.