Monday, February 28, 2011

New Boots

I bought some new cowboy boots yesterday. I use the term "new" loosely as they are only new to me. Wandering through one of my favorite consignment stores, Free Monkey in Salida,Colorado, I spotted this awesome pair of pointy toe ropers in the perfect shade of gray. I love gray for accessories-it goes with everything. Or at least everything I wear. It was an immediate connection. I knew I had to have them.
Grabbing them from their perch I thought the size looked right. Slipped my foot in and Voila! Perfect! How could that be? What luck! And the price was right-$19.99.
All I had to do was get past the slight yuck factor of wearing someone else's boots. But they felt like MY foot had always been in them. So I got over that real quick. And anyway, I wear socks with my boots.
Now I am a Texas girl born and raised. But I haven't owned a pair of cowboy boots in probably thirty years. I'd been thinking recently of getting a pair but they are always so stiff. And the ones I want are so expensive. And I don't want to pay a lot of money for boots that need to be broken in. So another reason these were perfect.
I put them on this morning to drive to the airport and I think there might be some magic in them. I stood taller. Well, duh! They do have heels, something I don't wear on a regular basis. But they gave a little swagger to my walk. And a chance conversation had "y'alls" dripping from my mouth like honey. I do say "y'all", but not with that much of an accent. I smiled at everyone, flipping my long blonde Texas hair. I was a stereotype and loving it.
Now the irony of flying to Colorado and coming home with a pair of cowboy boots is not lost on me. Bella said recently that she's afraid Colorado is "out-Texasing Texas". That's okay. I've got new cowboy boots. Don't care where they came from. Yeehaw!

Thursday, February 24, 2011

It Really Does Take a Village

This morning I am on my way to a much needed yoga class. The cell phone rings. "Mrs.Bee? I know you aren't taking Bunny to school until later but I missed my bus and I need a ride. Can you come get me?" This is my youngest's best and oldest friend,a real sweetie that has two parents that work. And she missed her bus. Again.
Detour. Miss yoga class. Pick up Friend and drop her at school even though I am not even taking my own child to school this morning. Did I mention school is not my nearby public school? And Friend is not anywhere near my neighborhood?
But what do you do? The school is too far for her to walk. Her parents would have to leave work to come get her and that is assuming they could leave right away. Schools these days really frown on tardies. Bus drivers are erratic and sometimes just plain loony. I guess I am a sucker for a kid in need, but she became my morning errand. She was grateful. Her mother will be grateful. That's assuming Friend tells her, because mom gets mad when she misses the bus. Sometimes we just keep it to ourselves.
Which makes me think of the other kids I mother on a part time basis. We live in an upper middle class area. Some people would consider this a rich area. A master planned area with brick homes and nice businesses and happy families. But not really.
When Boy was in middle school I realized that all of these families aren't happy. First there was the friend that moved to L.A. and then back again in the course of four months. He spent the night at our house and the mom called, not concerned about the child, but wanting to make sure I hung up his official Kobe Bryant jersey so it didn't get ruined. Kobe Bryant-now there's a child's role model. Then the parents separated. The mom ended up in jail. The boy and his sister lived with grandma. Then dad is found dead in his apartment. We finally lost track of that child-another move or three and he is gone from our lives.
Another friend whose mother seems erratic. She says she will pick the boys up but shows up three hours later. Or asks me to pick her son up from her house because she has car trouble. She is there with the tow-truck driver when I pull up and I get the distinct impression that she will be bartering herself as payment for this tow. And then the day the grandma drops him off and says "His mom is not allowed to have contact. If she tries to pick him up, don't let him go. Mom has gotten hooked on prescription pain killers.". This child becomes a regular at our house, asks me if it is ok if he can come over whenever. By high school his life has settled down although mom has never returned. He says as long as he doesn't know where she is, she is still probably alive. If she were dead then someone would contact his grandma. A mighty big lesson to learn at 14.
And recently. Bunny comes home and says "Le will be staying with us the next week. Her house sold and they can't move into the new one until next week. So she needs a place to stay. Le's parents don't speak much English so I never discuss this with them. Le comes home on the bus and her dad drops a suitcase off later-so at least he does know where she is.
Then Boy says "Tyler needs to stay with us a while. His mom kicked him out. He doesn't get along with his dad." Tyler is well behaved and independent but also has many issues-ADHD, dyslexic, dropped out of school last year two months before graduating. I make sure he gets up and goes to school. I tell Boy to help him with homework. I wonder how we got "custody". But no one else seems to want him.
These are the children that will be our future. They will run businesses. They will be parents. They will be taking care of us. I am glad that I am in the position to help. But it really hits home. It truly does take a village to raise our children.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Teenagers and Wannabes

I'm living with two teenagers and one almost/wannabe teenager. But Bunny isn't a REAL teenager YET! Thank goodness.
Boy was surly all through middle school and the first part of high school, but he came around towards the end of 10th grade and for the most part has been pleasant if not exactly a paragon of virtue. (Last weekend's speeding ticket for instance...)
I really thought we might have dodged that bullet with Bella. She was mostly delightful all through middle school. Then high school reared its ugly head along with Bella rearing hers. She is surly, lazy and ungrateful with brief moments of her old delightful self giggling through. I live for those bright moments- cringing and crying through the rest.
So I realized I REALLY need to appreciate Bunny in her final pre-teen moments. She is still funny and mostly agreeable and I REALLY need to enjoy it. I know her time will come,also, just like I know (ok- I hope) Bella will eventually go back to her old personality, same as Boy.
These last 24 hours have given me lots to appreciate. Who else would think, when given an assignment to bring in a G or PG rated DVD for Broadcasting, to say they would bring in a DVD we don't own? Now we DO own probably 200+ appropriate DVDs for this class. But she writes up a story board for a movie we don't own. And Target doesn't own it either we discovered in our mad dash at 5pm to find the movie. Thankfully one of her equally crazy friends does own the movie and she baled us out.
And then this morning. Oh! This morning was entertaining. She missed the bus so I drove her to school. Coming through the neighborhood we pass a girl fishing. Bunny looks at her and says "What teenager would be out fishing at 8:10 in the morning?" I joke "Maybe she's just out walking her fish?" and Bunny, bless her heart,pauses and then says (I promise) "You can't do that, can you? Walk a fish?" We discussed the possibilities of how and why you might walk a fish and then decided overall it wouldn't be a very nice thing for the fish however we worked it.
Driving on, Bunny commented that she really didn't want to go to school today. (What a surprise!) As we made the last turn to school she piped up "Why don't we just go on to Chik Fil A and you and I can hang together today, mom? It's okay. I promise." She said it so nonchalantly, like it might even be an option, that I almost took her up on it. Or at least let her be late for school so we could have a fast food breakfast together. Can't imagine Bella coming up with that idea anymore. She could easily come up with the "let's go on to Chik Fil A for breakfast" part but probably wouldn't if it had to include hanging with mom for the rest of the day.
Ahhh. Teenagers. And almost teenagers. I hope I survive. Life is good, no matter what.

Sunday, August 22, 2010

Bye

Our spectacular dog, Jake, died this morning. Or, more accurately, we had him put to sleep. He had his leg amputated almost a year ago because of osteosarcoma, a really vicious bone cancer for dogs. Even with the amputation his life span was supposed to be three to six months if we were lucky. September 25 would have been one year so we totally lucked out on that account. We noticed at the beginning of the summer that he was panting more so I suspected that his cancer had returned. The doctors had warned us it would probably come back in his lungs or kidneys rather than his bones. He went with us to Colorado for three weeks in July and he seemed to enjoy the mountains and chasing the deer. He LOVED the Arkansas River and would plop down and drink the cold water whenever we took him to it. Once he was home he seemed to age quickly.
Bella and Bunny and I returned for a week to Colorado, leaving Boy and Dad at home with Jake. Jake started throwing up and not eating so Boy took him to the vet. The docs x-rayed him and pronounced his lungs full of cancerous tumors-he had days to live. Every morning I would call home checking the puppy report. He had eaten, or not. He seemed okay. Or tired. I crossed my fingers he would survive until we returned home. I explained to the girls how gravely ill he was. I guess it didn't register because as we left the cabin I asked the girls if we should take his toy chipmunk to him since he would not live to come back to Colorado. Bunny screeched "What?". I explained again. His cancer has returned, he has days to live.
We got home last night about 8pm. Jake seemed happy to see us and in pretty good shape. I heard him try to get up in the middle of the night and then heard him slip, but otherwise he slept well. I, on the other hand, had a splitting headache and did not really sleep until about 5am. At 9am, the daddy came in. "Jake is in the drive. He fell and can't get up." I go outside and he is smiling, such a Golden Retriever! We try to lift him but it is obvious his one "good" back leg is not working. The daddy-o says that he went in for coffee and heard Jake rush the gate as he always does when someone walks by, and then there was a yelp. The walker reports that he was running and just fell over. His back leg has snapped.
I sit with him as dad gets dressed, then he sits with him while I get dressed. I wake the girls. They aren't five anymore, they need to know what is going on. We call Boy who has spent the night away. Jake is loaded into the van and off to the emergency clinic we go. Five crying people and one smiling dog. To the end he did not show any pain, except for brief shudders across his face and then he returned to that Golden smile. He never even winced when we lifted him into the car, even though it must have been painful. He was so happy to have his whole family together petting him! The doctor was kind, the end was peaceful.
Jake is at peace. I am in tears.

Friday, May 15, 2009

Death and all it's Trappings

Squeamish Boy went to an autopsy today. This is part of his anatomy class that he is failing spectacularly. I assume going to the autopsy did nothing for his grade but at least he participated. Certainly he gets brownie points for showing up!

I was telling Bella about her brother going to the autopsy and she freaked. "I do NOT want an autopsy!" I assured her that she would not be having an autopsy if I could help it- although secretly I do not ever want to be around when/if she needs one. That should be AFTER I have had the "no autopsy decision" made for me. Anyway, it got us to talking about what she would like IF she should die young. It's an interesting topic to cover with your kids. She does not want to be cremated. She does not want to be embalmed. She does want to be buried in "a Hot Pink pretty casket" and she wants to be wearing her jammies. "Mom, you'd probably need to go out and buy me some pretty ones..." Also she wants her pink fluffy slippers on her feet.

Boy on the other hand wants to be cremated. Not embalmed or buried. And no autopsy, please. Although he admits it would be fun to be a zombie, he realizes that probably won't happen, so cremation, please.

I am with Boy- cremate me, please. Don't embalm me. A pine casket if I have to have one. Send me up in a puff of smoke and then scatter me at the beach. Not too particular which beach. Cozumel would be nice, but I will be with Freeport. I've always been happy at the beach.

Prince of a Husband needs to find himself a plot. He wants to be buried...spare no expense. Of course, he also wants to be on life support as long as possible and never pull the plug and no living will, please.

I'll need to check with Bunny. Wonder what she wants? I feel like that by asking and knowing, this will be info I never need to have. Cross my fingers. And toes.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Hair today, gone tomorrow...

I got my hair cut today. A lot. I meant to, but, of course, it did not come out as I expected. Like a good hair salon patron I went in with a specific idea and a more specific picture in hand. I showed the picture to my stylist. I really did. We discussed it. Then she cut my hair exactly as she saw fit. Certainly wasn't the cut I requested. Then she told me that she left it a little longer than the picture on the top and longer in the back. Well, she was right on one bit of that. The back was longer -slightly, maybe 1/2 inch at most. But the top where I had wanted the length- noooo, that wasn't really longer than the picture. From my estimate it is about one inch shorter than I requested. And when the longest hair on my head is now about 4 inches- maybe- that one inch really makes a difference. I had long hair last year- past my shoulders. It was a pain to keep up with since my hair is fine but thick....took too much time to style. So this summer I went shorter and I loved that first medium length cut. Right at my shoulders, long side bangs, stacked in the back. Very flattering. Easy to work with. BUT- twice after I had my hair cut by the same stylist, requesting the same cut, it was never QUITE the same. Why is that? But it was close and I lived. Until I was in a store one day, waiting in line and I looked around me. There were three other women, all about my age, and we all had the exact same haircut. Ummm- not what I had in mind. I did not want the hair cut du jour. I wanted something * NEW*.
So I found a picture of the cut that seemed to say "me". And I was realistic- I knew she couldn't give me the super model face and body that was attached to the cut. But just "The Cut".That's all I wanted. Instead I have "the lady at the front desk at school" cut according to Bella. Which was exactly what I didn't want- dowdy and serviceable. Or worse, I have my "mother-in-law's haircut" according to my mother. Again serviceable and just fine if you are eighty. I'm not.
Why is it so hard to meld the cut that I want with the cut that I can get?? I wasn't asking for an afro or my hair to be 12 inches longer. I was reasonable. And now, now I can get a job at the middle school front desk (Oh no! I just realized- I have that job- volunteering once a week!)or be a nice 80 year old great grandmother. All so very far from my vision of a hip, young me.
It will grow. My new mantra. It will grow. And a couple of times I have seen me in the mirror and thought "If I didn't know you, I would think it was a cute cut." So maybe that is the jist of it all. The cut isn't that bad. It just isn't me. But.....it will grow. And otherwise, life is good but life is crazy.....................and my hair will grow.

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Bella's Birthday

For her thirteenth birthday, Ms. Bella got a hurricane and six days off from school. Also a cancelled birthday party at the beach. And a kitten. Still, this was an improvement over the 2001 sixth birthday where school was abruptly closed right before she was to pass out her birthday cupcakes. Ms. Bella's birthday is September 11. Many people say "Oh, how sad to have your birthday on September 11." but I don't feel that way. It is a reason to find joy in a day that has come to signify great sorrow. It was the day my first daughter was born six years before it became the day the terrorists raped our nation. It also happens to be my nephew's, her cousin's, birthday - eight years older than Bella. A few years ago I asked Bella if she remembered much about her sixth birthday and she said "Oh, yes mama. I was so sad." I was inspired by her sensitivity and inquired why . "Well, I had my cupcakes ready to pass out and the teacher made me put them away because everyone was going home. I didn't get to celebrate my birthday." Hmmmm. Yes, and 3,000 people died that day.
But this year we had more excitement than calamity. The hurricane politely showed up on Friday, the day after Bella's birthday. She still got sprung from school with her friends for lunch and she still got to go to her birthday dinner. Anticipation filled the air as school was cancelled for Friday and all the adults were running around putting away patio furniture and hauling in water and groceries. She had already been told that her party- a weekend cabin at Quintana Beach with her friends- had been cancelled due to a mandatory evacuation. Ike showed late on Friday and really wasn't much of a nuisance at our house until Saturday morning. Once we got the back side of the hurricane, the wind went crazy and the trees went down. Electricity was out all over- longer for some than others. Trees and fences were all splayed out - north to south as the wind blew. The week after was surreal. People slowly cleaned up. Those without power spent their time foraging for ice and food. Those with had "electricity guilt" (trust me- I know- I was one) and opened their houses for food and cell phone charging.
School continued to be cancelled- so Bella came up with the idea of going to her Auntie's farm for her birthday. A welcome respite from the downed trees and no electricity at home. And that's where the kitten came in. A stray fluffy calico was hiding near the house- hungry but skittish. Bella and her friends asked if they could keep it. "Sure", thinking the chances of them catching a wild country kitten were small. But never underestimate the wiliness of 13 year old girls. Soon I held the skinniest, scrawniest, boniest little kitten in my hand. If we hadn't fed her I imagine she would have been dead by nightfall. A bath and some yogurt later... now we have yet another pet at home. An affirmation of life after the destruction of the previous week. A close to another eventful birthday. Life is crazy; life is good.