To my big boy on his birthday

Dear McKay,

Today you are turning eleven years old. This day every year brings you one step closer to that inevitable moment when you are ready to spread your wings and leave the little nest I have created here. I find myself wholly unable to think about that far-off day, and turn my attention to the utter joy you bring us now.

Mack, you are just good. There is no way around it. There is not a mean bone in your body. You not only root for the underdog, but you go out of your way to help him. You cannot stand the idea of anyone hurting. Your thoughtfulness is way beyond your years.

Your current favorite game is one of your own invention, called, "Would you rather?" You give me a choice between two diverse (and often really gross) scenarios, in which I am forced choose the lesser of two evils. Tonight, you asked me if I'd rather die a hero or live long enough to see myself become a villain. Proud of your keen intellect and creative philosophizing, I bragged to your daddy about it on the phone.

He laughed and told me it was from the newest Batman movie.


As I'd want it, school has been an ongoing challenge, and I'm so proud of the way you've dug in your heels with determination. You absolutely refuse to not do well at anything. You are driven in such a way that I know came solely from your father's genes. You have a vision for the way you want things to be someday, and you are planning now for that future. I have no doubt that you will achieve all you set out to do. And I can't wait for you to make those millions you're dreaming of.

Because laboring for hours to bring you into this world without an epidural? That's got to be at least worth you funding my golden years in a really posh nursing home staffed by strong, handsome men.

You continue to share everything in life with your brother. The two of you are inseparable, and it is not uncommon for me to find you both bent over a pile of legos, or laughing while reading a Calvin and Hobbs book together. I can't tell you the joy it brings to my mama heart when I see you two so close. Just a few minutes ago, when I walked past your room, I smiled as I heard you and Chase talking together about various events in your day. I love that you love him so much.


You are thoughtful and tender, obedient and kind. I rely a lot on you, and without question, you do all that you're asked and more. You make me laugh with your silly jokes. You make me smile when I see that look on your face - the one where you try so hard not to smile or show others how excited you are about something. The one where you look just like your dad.

You are the kind of kid that makes parenting feel so easy.
I love you, buddy. I know you love me, too, even if you think it's gross to give me a hug in public. Thank you for filling our life with such sweet, easy happiness.

Love,

Mama

Me not so suhmart no mor

Remember how a few days ago, I was all on top of my business and shouting "yes, I can" from the rooftops?

Nothing like a little slice of humble pie to bring you back to the reality of, "Umm, no, I really can't."

You see, I volunteer to help in my kids' classrooms. A lot. I like to be there, see how the teacher interacts with the students, and see how my kids interact with other kids.

Plus, I really have no excuse this year, what with them in school all day now.

So, I went to help in McKay's class for the first time this year. As soon as I enter the classroom, his teacher hands me a heavy math book. She points out the page the students are currently working on (which is multiplying with decimals). She smiles sweetly, and asks me if I'd feel comfortable teaching this concept to one of the groups, while she works with the other.

Panic immediately sets in. Math has never been my strong suit. But this is fifth grade math. Surely, I passed fifth grade math at some point in my life, right? I smile, and tell her, "Sure, no problem," and head for the white board.

To my surprise, things move along rather well. I find that I am actually pretty good at teaching the math. McKay gets over his instinctive embarrassment and even makes eye contact with me a few times, which is a huge victory in and of itself.

Well, just about the end of our time together, the teacher returns to the classroom with her group. At this moment, one of my students raises her hands and says, "Um, I got a different answer for that one." Before I can respond, the teacher notices my problem on the board, comes over, erases it, AND RE-DOES IT FOR ME.

Apparently, I am not so good at the fifth grade math.

I made a REALLY STUPID error and did not have my decimal in the right place. I knew it as soon as I looked at it, unfortunately a little too late.

But there, in front of my son, and all of his classmates, I looked like an idiot. I felt so dumb. I have no doubt she is wondering exactly what I had been teaching while she was out. I wanted to tell her that, "YES! I REALLY DO KNOW HOW TO DO THIS!"

But instead, I smiled, thanked her, and went to my car in a cloud of stupidity and shame.

And so, next week when I go in, I fully expect her to have a desk with my name on it.

Think McKay will be embarrassed if I have to repeat my fifth grade year?

The genius of the lone trucker

About ten years ago, when McKay was a baby, we were living in Minneapolis while the Husband finished up grad school.

We grew to love Minnesota, in spite of the fact that there are only about eight days a year where you can go outside. And in spite of the fact that they willingly elected Jessie "the Body" for their governor (blame the Husband. I'm pretty sure he voted for him).

Slowly, over time, we even began to understand what the natives were saying when they asked us if we "wanted a baig for that" at the grocery store.

But one the funniest experiences of my life came while we were living there. I was running some errands downtown, and had baby McKay, buckled in his car seat, in the back of the car.

I pulled up to a stoplight, and movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. Next to me at the light, was a big 18-wheeler truck, driven by a man who looked a little something like this:


Only not quite so handsome.

He was frantically waving at me, so I smiled, nodded my head, and turned toward the light, hoping that the light would soon turn green.

In spite of my attempt to ignore him, he was practically jumping up and down in his seat. I looked over once again, praying that my life was not about to end at the hands of this apparently-crazy trucker.

He was motioning for me to roll down my window, which I did, in spite of the mental security that thin little piece of glass afforded me.

He smiled, revealing several missing teeth, and said: "Hey lady, you always know where you're going, and he always knows where you've been!"

I nodded politely, smiled, and sped off just as the light turned green, hoping to be spared from any more trucker wisdom which made absolutely no sense at all. Shaking my head and laughing, I started thinking about what he had said.

And by the next block, it hit me. He was referring to McKay in the rear-facing car seat, knowing where we've been. And me, facing forward, knowing where we're going.

Probably the most clever thing I've ever heard from a tattooed, toothless trucker in my life.

I only wish I could find him so I could tell him that I got it.

If you see him, be sure to tell him for me, good one, buddy. Good one.

Gracias, mine interpeeps

How much do I love the internet today?

So, so much.

You sure do know how to make a girl feel good. Even you lurkers that decided to come out and play. I thank you. From the bottom of my very short-haired heart. I think next time I'm feeling bad about myself, I will whine about it here, and wait for you all to make me feel pretty again. Seriously, thank you. Your kind words meant a lot to me. I am just blown away by all of it.

Now onto other non-hair related things (you mean the world doesn't revolve around my hair? Shocking, but true).

Yesterday was the first day of school. A buzz of energy, the kids got all ready in about six minutes, and then sat around waiting until it was time to go. When the time finally arrived, there was some moaning as they lugged their school supplies to the bus stop, which I was absolutely no help with. I mean, someone had to be snapping pictures, right? Who else will document these milestones?

Once at the bus stop, I forced them to endure the gratuitous, cheesy smile pose that moms everywhere are snapping this time of year. Backpacks on, freshly scrubbed faces, new clothes. Note to self: Must get more creative for next year. I'm thinking headstands on backpacks, human pyramid, flame-thrower in the background. Something.

McKay had a lot more anxiety and nervousness about this year, which surprised me. Poor kid could hardly eat anything for breakfast because his stomach was all in knots. Lucky for him, I ate enough for the two of us. Just trying to keep the universe balanced and all that (or so I'm trying to tell my thighs).


Hannah was definitely the most excited, "Aboutstartingfirstgrade! Ohmygoodness!! I'minfirstgradenow!! I can'tbelieveI'mfinallysogrownup!! I'minfirstgrade!!!" And that's exactly how it sounded all morning, I kid you not.
Chase was hardly nervous at all - telling his usual round of jokes, searching the ground for frogs, and asking how soon it was until lunchtime.

But in the end, only my baby girl looked back.


But only for a second, and then she was gone. Leaving me, my checkbook, my novels, and daytime movies all alone.

Whatever shall I do?

The last week of summer

I am starting to think that I just might miss these little friends when they go back to school in nine days, 16 hours, and four minutes.



But who's counting, anyway?

Taking his turn as a poet

During the school year, McKay's teacher had the class do their own version of Judith Viorst's poem, "If I were in charge of the world." Her poem has always been a favorite of mine, and I like his version even better. It gives you insight into his personality, which is oftentimes so agreeable that his dislikes tend to be kept to himself (I know, great kid, huh?)

But it's interesting to me the things he would eliminate and the things he would keep, if he were in charge of the world. I think it would be an excellent psychological assessment tool to see what we'd all write. Maybe I'll do one of my own soon.

If I were in charge of the world
By McKay

If I were in charge of the world
I'd cancel wars,
Broccoli
Mean people, and also
slow computers

If I were in charge of the world
there'd be mansions everywhere,
servants, and
no homework.

If I were in charge of the world
You wouldn't have germs.
You wouldn't have laundry
You wouldn't have disgusting foods
Or "clean the yard"
You wouldn't even have to clean.

If I were in charge of the world
Foods with sugar would be healthy.
Everything would cost 1 penny.
There would be no work
And a person who sometimes has bad grades
And sometimes has bad days
Would still be able to be
in charge of the world