I can write notes, too

I'm one of those moms that leaves notes in my kids lunchboxes. Well, on the first week of school, and maybe a couple other times during the school year. I'm not neurotic. I think they should be an act of love, not an obligation.

So, on the third day of school, I thought it would be cute to cut a number 3 out of paper and write a note to tuck into Noah's lunchbox. I imagined the number and snipped at paper and got this:

Sharpies to the rescue, I thought:

 I still see it.

This is the note that he got on the third day of school:

The heart is a way more lunchroom appropriate organ, don't you think?

Looking At The Big Picture

Sometimes when I read blogs or facebook commentary-ok, or even talk to other parents- I feel kinda crappy.

People really have a gift for showing only the good parts of things. Part of me wants to think that this is them being optimistic, sharing things that they are proud of, or wanting others to see why they love their lives and families so much and bring us in to that joy. This part of me thinks they have a lot of good in their lives, and they worked hard to get it- they should be able to flaunt it. Enjoy your life, I think, love and spread the cheer!

And another part of me calls bullshit.

Well, I whisper it. I appreciate the positive spin, admire the accomplishment, but know that there is more to the picture.

No one is that perfect, we all have a bigger picture. Cropped properly, everyone's lives and kids and work look fantastic. But when you zoom out to look at the bigger picture, you see that they are just as messed up and whacked as your family.

I'm not saying that we shouldn't be proud of our kids, or show them in the best light...we should. But not exclusively.

Conversely we probably shouldn't be negative all the time either. It's a thin line--be upbeat to show that your family is great...but not so much that people sit around waiting for you to fall off your pedestal. Show the flaws, but not so many that you scare people away.

To illustrate this, here is a pictorial garden tour. First the carefully cropped  and perfectly posed shot---then the big picture of where that plant is growing. Pretty blooms that should be admired, but with a knowledge of what is going on around them may not be the most perfect. Just like life.

( Overly Apologetic Disclaimer: If you are a gardener, please know that we have had a really hot summer...plants fried. Literally! And I tried to conserve water--but I was also lazy and didn't maintain my beds like I could have.)

Lovely naked ladies and zinnias

Not so lovely weeds and dead foliage

oooh, pretty Rose of Sharon bloom...

...the only bloom on the plant surrounded by seedlings that need to be cleaned up.

Perky salvia and vinca entwined with soft cypress vine...

..in a bed of hot mess.

ooh, phlox! So fresh, so lovely...

..so the only thing still alive !

Cute summer grouping...

..next to the black sheep of the porch.

Supercool red sunflower...

...that lives here. 

Enjoy your blooms today, admire them, show them off--but find a way to love the rest of the garden, too.

Note THIS!

Most mornings, when I walk into the kitchen, I am greeted with an island full of notes. Brian gets up waaaay before me, and jots these notes as a form of communication. His argument is that he writes stuff down when he thinks of it, then he doesn't have to remember to talk to me about it. And of course, the man digs a paper trail so he has proof he told me something.

Normally they are about things he spots that I can take care of during the day. Basically, To-Do lists. For me. Since I am " home all day".

I despise these notes, not only because I can't stand being told what and when to do something--it also shows that he is not entirely on board with my game plan of working from home.

See, I am at the pay my dues,learn, and build a body of work portion of the game. I do not get paid cash money for 95% of what I do right now. I will down the road (God willing and the creek don't rise), but now, no.

Brian is very old school, and believes that it's not a job if there is not an immediate payout to the family- in money or in household/child rearing benefits. Period.

This is only part of why I have a SAHM complex. The other part comes from me. I sold myself on being a SAHM so hard, that I feel like I should still be doing all the stuff I have always done for the family. 

It's really a lesson in dysfunction on several levels. I realize that.

But back to the notes. This morning, a day where I had a long list of my work related items to do, Brian decided that he would fill the slow parts of me day. I have SIX HOURS between dropping kids off at school, and their return home. I easily have five hours of my own work, a large stack of papers to go through that the kids brought home form the first day of school (my homework..nice) and then another 2-3 hours after the kids go to bed tonight. This does not include the errand I am going to run for my Mother-in-law, the laundry, dishes, dinner, etc. And it's Wednesday. I usually dust on Tuesday but was so full of solo-bliss yesterday, I didn't.

Uh -huh. 

This is what I walked into this morning:

ONE is instructions telling me exactly how to clean out the garage. Sweep the floor, organize the workbench, organize the shelves, etc. I have been ignoring this directive for several days now. And, oh hey, lookie there..I will again today. 

TWO is a list of dinners he would like next week. On one hand it makes meal planning easier and I am making things he likes; on the other hand I only like one of the meals. You want to know, right? Snoops. Frozen fried shrimp and peas; Turkey burgers; frozen Chinese; Manwiches/ tots and corn; BBQ beef tub (already made, just heat). 

Bachelor menu, right? 

I only like the turkey burgers because those I make myself.

THREE is instructions on how to clean the house. No lie. 

FOUR is a notification that he discovered the carpets upstairs are looking a little in need of a vacuuming.

FIVE is...someone is about to blow a gasket so I won't even tell you exactly what it says, but I should rearrange the refrigerator and put leftovers in appropriately sized containers.

SIX is a reminder that he likes his freshly laundered shirts left unbuttoned when I fold them.

The pen he wrote these notes with is his favorite type of pen. Can't really fault the guy for that, I personally hoard my favorite type of pens, too. But do not use his pens! Even if he leaves them on the kitchen table. 

The man does do a lot around the house and also makes his and Luke's lunch in the morning. (He gets up REEEEALLY early) Those are not condoms, they are handiwipes from that project. Probably left on the table so that I wouldn't forget to put some in Noah's lunchbox. Thankfully, there is no note telling me this, because I may have invented a new use for handi-wipes. 

Now, if you will excuse me, I have some things to do. Anyone got a match?

Problem Solved! Maybe...

I have been fretting for months. Not the economy, or war, or illness or famine or anything that is globally important and actually deserves to be fretted about. I'm not that deep.

It's the drop off lane.

The drop off lane has caused me great angst over the years, and this year, with my oldest heading off to high school, I was going to have to learn to navigate yet another parking lot. The worst one, because not all of the drivers there have my experience...and yet, they "own" the school. I'm a visitor.

To further complicate matters, there is construction at the school (a new performing arts center- let me brag on about our school embracing the arts another day). Because of this, the usual drop off system was blocked and the replacement one was sure to be a nightmare.

Recap: Three kids, three different schools, three different drop off lanes with three different sets of rules. One mom with her head about to explode.

After much discussion and debate the family came to a solution.

Bye Luke and Bekah! Have a nice day! Enjoy that bus!

This solution left me with my head intact, and only one kid to drive. Sure, he could take the bus, too, but I  kind of like our time together in the morning, and his school has a well monitored drop off lane. S'all good.

Or it will be tomorrow when we actually USE the drop off lane.

One time, when I was fretting out-loud about the drop off lane, my friend Beckett suggested that I walk him in. Avoid the lane!

So on the ride to school this morning I asked him, " Drop off lane or walk you in?"

"Can you walk me in today, I'm a little nervous, then drop me off the rest of the time?"

Sounded logical, so I agreed.

 And then regretted when I rounded the corner to the school. Apparently, this was the preferred method of most of the parents. The amply spaced parking lot was overflowing into a nearby field. It looked like Bieber was playing the lunchroom. Kids, parents all flocking en masse to the front doors.

"Buddy, look! There is no one in the drop off lane! We can zip in there..."

He didn't let me finish.

"GRASS! Off-roading in the mini-van! Wohoo!!!"

And I did, because I am a sucker for a clean cut 1st grader.

If it's been a long time since you dropped a kid off at elementary school, let me share something: On the first day of school there is a subset of parents who put the kid on the bus at home, then RACE to school to greet the same kid as he gets off the bus. The parent clicks a picture of the dazed child emerging from the bus to see the same people he left  half an hour ago.

I'm not going to poke fun at these parents...and not because I recognized a few friends in the mix...ok, exactly for that reason. I will just say, I don't quite understand it, but if it works for them- brava! I'm sure these friends will fill me in on the why they do this. It just seems kinda Helicopter Parent- In-Training to me. But hey, I do a lot of stuff that leaves them scratching their heads, so let's go back to "whatever works."

Noah and I parked (almost back at our house), made the trek through the field, past the dog poop, past the playground, and up the sidewalk. I gave him a kiss (and he kissed me back because he hasn't been told it's not cool ,yet), " Go! Learn something!"

And he was gone. Into first grade.

And I trekked back to the car, alone. Smiling. It was a long trek, so I probably looked a little crazy smiling the whole time, but the kids were back in class. I had a long walk to think about the kitchen that will remain clean until dinner. The lack of television aimed at kids. The absence of arguments about their activity choices and neglected chores. It has been a long, fairly boring summer at our house. School never looked so good to any of us.

I thought about all of that, and still wasn't at my car.

Stopped for a breath at the halfway point. I can see the car...

And now I am home, like a lot of other parents, sharing pictures of our kids headed off to the first day of school in the new year. Pictures that show them freshly scrubbed, wearing the outfits that showoff the best of their personalities. Snapshots that capture nerves and excitement and the dread of having mom snap a picture of them, again, in the same spot she has snapped pictures at the beginning of every school year.

Have an amazing school year, kids! Go! Learn something!

Trainwreck?: My own blogging challenge

I was snooping around on someone's g+ status...I mean, stream. ( Gotta get with the lingo-I need a facebook to google+ translator). She was asking what type of blogs  those in her circles (!) would like to read if she took another stab at a personal blog.

I have read this person's blogs before, she is a very good writer with a unique voice. She is so good my jealousy prevents me from linking her up here...just kidding... Valorie Engholm, she is the Wednesday featured blogger on Mom2MomKC. If you like your mommy blogs crunchy with a left lean, you should check her out. Sorry, jealousy again, anyone should check her blogs out because she gives a perspective that you might share, or might not, but you will learn something.

ANYWAY, this isn't about Val--it's about me....so I was snooping on this convo and someone said that she would follow a blog that is about anything as long as it was well written and interesting. The topic was of secondary importance to the way it was presented. And it had to be consistent.

I never intended for this blog to be a money maker. AT ALL. And that hasn't changed. But I did intend for it to be my personal playground, work-out area...ok, and my soap box. The comment about consistency challenged me. I suck at consistency on this blog. (and my huge ego allowed me to skim right over the, "good writing" part).

I have a super special friend who is a successful writer (and really ninja-mentors me in between our common friend language and shared brain) has suggested that I give up this blog. I'm giving it away for free, she says. And she has a point. And I usually do most of what she says because she is always right. And smart. And pretty. But this time, I'm going in the opposite direction- I'm going to give MORE away for freeeeeeeeeee! I think this experiment will make me a better writer so there is a benefit to me.

And to you. This could be a trainwreck! I might be so challenged for a topic I blow my personal Code of Ethics and write about someone, or something, that I swore I never would write about!

And tell your friends about my potential trainwreck experiment! In all honesty, the only way I will know this is working is if my followers list grows. Or you comment, but I know how you feel about that and I'm cool with it. Just pimp me.

Once the kids go back to school THIS WEEK...omgoshfinallythissummerwastheworst... starting on Tuesday I am going to post something once a day for a month. My theme, topic, niche..whatever you want to call it remains the same as always (since I changed it last year): Work At Home Mom With A Stay At Home Complex.

What will I do after that month? I have no idea- let's see what I learn and take it from there.

I hated baseball, until I didn't

I have never been shy to admit that I am not sporty. I didn't play any competitive sports as a kid, and was afraid--ok, I am STILL-- afraid of balls flying at me.

Naturally, opposites attract and all- I married a man who was very sporty. And gave birth to two boys who want to be just like Dad. Sporty.

I was pretty fortunate to avoid going to every single baseball game over the past nine years because Brian was Luke's coach. My attendance was not mandatory; I could breeze in and fly out when I got bored. Which shouldn't surprise you didn't take long. Even when we had winning seasons, I didn't attend many full games. I just didn't care to watch baseball.

I knew I had it good, didn't have to subject myself to the elements- I was quite the fair weather baseball parent.

Until this year. Brian changed jobs and could no longer coach Luke's team. He also couldn't make it to all of Luke and Noah's games.Noah was playing rookie ball, and Luke was on a 12U team. Brian became the fair weather ball parent. I became the parent who sits on the sidelines covered in dust, hoodies and a blanket in early spring, and dust. sweat and sunblock in the summer.

Noah and his Bumble Bees.

Luke and Brian...first year without Dad as his coach, but Dad had the gear!

I whined about every single game I had to attend.  I cheered my sons, but texted complainey messages to my friends between action. I whined about the weather. I complained about the bleachers. I carried on about how amazingly bored I was.

Finally, after almost five months of baseball (times two teams...that's a lot of texting) Noah finished his season and Luke was headed to the season ending tournament. My obligation to baseball was ending for the year.

No more sideline bug bites.

No more wind/sun/anger at annoying parents burn.

No more of  the toddler in the stroller at every game with the Justin Beiber doll. That sang! Over and over and over....she obviously loved that doll. I wanted the boys to use it for batting practice.

The tournament was at a town a full half hour away. This, of course, was fodder for more complaining. And our team, normally nine boys, was going to be short. Seven boys playing full teams that, for the most part, had beat us during the season.

"How are they going to play with only seven kids?" my friend asked me when I moaned about it.

Good question.

The answer?

In the first game they beat the other full team 15-3.

This win was especially satisfying because the opposing coach decided to pull out the rule book in the last inning and question if our boys should be penalized runs for not having a full team.

My feeling was that HIS team should be penalized runs for having such a poor sport for a coach. Thankfully, the rule had been changed this year and our team whupped his.(Ok, that was poor sportsmanship, too...I'll own that.)

The second game our team of  seven - including one kid with a broken arm in a cast- was victorious over a team of nine (who came to the field sporting some kinda freaky militaristic chanting...I was almost waiting for them to start high stepping around the bases). Final score 11-1.

The third game was a nail biter. Only six of our boys could make the game. Broken Arm Kid was one of the six, and the temperature was soaring into the 100's. Of course, the other team was a full team of nine. Going into the last half of the last inning, our team was down by two runs.  I found myself not cheering the end of the game as I normally would--but cheering the six 12 year-old boys taking their last turn at bat.

So how did that work out for our boys?

Don't you want to know about the family of the broken arm kid? The WHOLE family came to every game. Mom, Dad, two girls and a set of grandparents cheered from the sidelines even when Broken Arm Kid couldn't play because his arm was so badly broken he had to get a new cast every other day.

Don't you want to know about the cute, cheerleader 13 year-old who was our teams scorekeeper and would go to the dugout and offer a pep talk to the boys?

Don't you want to know about the great conversations Luke and I had during our hour in the car when he didn't have to be cool, and could just chat with his mom?

OK. Our team of six boys with 11 working arms..................... won! 11-9!

I couldn't explain the win to Brian. The fielding was pretty bad, giganto holes in the outfield. Every time Broken Arm Kid got to bat, he could only stand at the ready and not swing, hoping for a walk. Our best pitcher was on vacation. The pitcher and catcher were overworked and very tired. It was freaky, scary, Why Are We Playing hot.

But we did.

The outcome of the tournament has yet to be determined, but the remarkable first three games created a feeling of winning pride for everyone involved in the team. Including this non-sporty, no longer baseball hating Mom.

I was expecting more from you....

This is the line that I imagine people who read this blog say. You are expecting more. More entries. More pictures. More chuckles.

Line forms here, baby!

I was expecting more from me, too. But, I did say that my posts would be sporadic and only when I had something I wanted to say without a filter.

*****Shameless plugs for the places where you can read more from me on a regular basis*****

(You do realize you can read posts on both Mom2MomKC (I am the Saturday Featured Blogger- go to the blogs tab and look for the picture that looks like me if I had smoothed out my wild hair and put on makeup) and  The Kansas City Star (new posts on Wednesday). Also, you can be a part of the excitement of historically based girl talk by subscribing to The History Chicks on itunes or going to our website. And - heavy sigh- I'm on twitter @essephvee . Or however you write the twitter name. I may very well be the worst tweeter in the world. Seriously. It's comical how awful I am...I mean, comical if it weren't so pathetic.)

**************Plug over*****************

But here is my reason for this post. What's going on with me is fairly boring--this summer has been filled with surgeries and illness and middle class financial responsibilities--- hasn't been filled with much fun and laughter. Right now, for instance, Noah and I are home on a Sunday morning because both of us have strep. We are not contagious, but he has the rash still-- as well as one from a drug allergy to the first med he was on. And I have that side effect from strong antibiotics that kill the good bacteria in my belly. Lovely. Yeah, that's the story of my summer. 

Who wants to read about that? Oh sure, it's funny that I forgot that the last time he was on this med (about a month ago) the doc thought he might be allergic and I totally spaced when we went to urgent care this time--- and was shocked to see a rash the next day, so I paid another co-pay to take him to his regular doc who had it right there in his chart." May be allergic to..."  Bonehead Mom Award. yay.

And the thrill my kids got when I FINALLY joined the 20-tweens and signed us up for Netflix was embarrassingly entertaining. Really, when the highlight of a summer is getting every episode of Billy the Exterminator, H2O or 1000 Ways to Die streamed to the wii---well, it's a pretty dry summer, ya know? That just gives a glimmer as to what is going on with me.

But what is going on with YOU? Is my boring rubbing off in my posts? Am I not controversial enough? Fine- I am not. Ok, that's a given...but I just told you I let my kids watch 1000 Ways to Die! It's a horrible show! I let my kids eat sugary cereals and have days when we have s'more eating contests, too! And let them ride scooters without helmets on! And..and...they watch way too much TV. On NICE days! Yeah, ok, I'm not controversial.

But am I boring?

I see you, you know. Ok, not YOU--I don't see you, I don't know who you are or anything...but I can see how many people come here and- not to brag- it's way more than just the followers list. Yeah, I'm no dooce (everyone bow), or Pioneer Woman...no one is going to be asking me to write a book based on this blog. But I do ok for the purpose here.

But the comment section is kinda light.

Here is the thing: blogggers like me, here, we get paid in hits and comments. It's like the dollars and cents of our work. It's how we know we are being heard and entertaining or enlightening or making you feel like a better person than us which is totally ok, too.

Maybe we are using our blogs as a place to vomit out our thoughts into the great wide beyond. (Guilty) 

Maybe we are hoping to polish our craft to someday make some real coin.( Guilty)

 Maybe we are hoping to just find out if there are any Meeee Toooooos out there and give voice to the common mistakes and lessons we all face so we don't feel like the crappiest mom on the planet (Totally and completely guilty).

But we like some response.

And I am totally lacking in response. And it's beginning to eat away at my already fragile ego. *whimper*

I'm going to throw some random pictures of things of this summer out there now, because we all like pictures, right? Plus it might give you something to comment on. ( Most pathetic hint ever..and you thought the pimp up there was bad!).

Luke's idea of a white button down shirt and tie: three button golf shirt and clip on tie. For a choir concert. He was so proud of this that he took his own picture--with my camera. I guess that meant he wanted everyone to see him. (And a glimpse of my messy kitchen/ Does ANYONE know how to close cabinet doors!?)

Noah not only has entirely too many shoes for a 6 year old boy, but his organizational powers both thrill and concern me.

My area of geekspertise is gardening. And these are my gardening shoes. Nasty, huh? God, I love slipping my feet into those shoes.

This tree is struggling to survive because my genius husband decided the best way to avoid weed whacking was to outline my yard and around the trees...with Round-up.

Bekah will be going to high school. This is the night of her middle school graduation. She is having some issues, the least of which is that her mom makes her pose in public places by goofy signs.

Hope that your summer is going well, and better than mine--comment and tell me how pathetic my summer and comment plea is!!!

hearts.