Cutting the umbilical cord six years later.

                                

                  

          We did it!  We successfully packed our stuff, said goodbye to our friends, and moved all of our crap from San Diego to the Geeeeorgia!  It's hot here, where are the cool ocean breezes? And why do I have mosquito bites all over me?  And what's all that racket out there?  Georgia is noisy, like really noisy, but it's not traffic or The Dixie Chicks shooting their guns off, it's that great southern noise: it's the bugs, mostly the cicadas.  They sit in trees and wiggle their butts, or rub their legs together, I don't remember but it's loud and pretty cool to hear.  The place is ALIVE, and hot, did I mention that?

         With our big move across country comes big changes, especially for Henry who's starting a new school and trying to make new friends.  Thankfully I never had to move as a kid.  Growing up in the same town your entire adolescence lets you keep all of your old friends that you made in the previous years, well except when you accidentally lose their favorite brown Wet 'N Wild lip liner and they stop talking to you WELL EXCUSE ME WE ALL MAKE MISTAKES YOU'RE NOT PERFECT YOU KNOW.  No, I'm over it, it's fine.

          I was lucky that I didn't have to start all over every three years, which is the lot in life for these military kids, but I'm hoping it does good things for our guy, sort of forces him to be flexible and outgoing.  Plus it builds character, at least this is what I'm telling myself.  Thankfully he's only six and still at the stage where making friends is pretty easy, he can just go up to someway and say, "Hi, will you be my friend?  Yes? Cool."  and then that's it.  I wish it were that easy as an adult!  Unfortunately you get strange looks at the gym when you go up to strangers and say, "Hi, I'm looking for friends, you want the job?"  I have yet to receive a positive response to this, mostly just panicked looks and then they start pretending to talk on their cell phone. Whatever.  Who needs you.  I suppose I could always put an ad out on Craigslist for new friends, but honestly I'm just not in the mood to be murdered by a psychopath today.

          But, my main concern is not whether I make friends in our new place, it's more about Henry making friends, because let's face it, friends are important when you're six.  You can have wicked awesome Playdoh fights, car smash ups, bed jumping contests, and fart parties, basically life rules at this age.

          We arrived in town about a month before school started and although we didn't know anyone here we were holding out high hopes that Henry would meet some same age kids on the street.  This neighborhood is perfect for playing, lots of houses with big lawns and big driveways, very little traffic, speed bumps galore (not only good for slowing down traffic but also good for super awesome bike jumps).  Unfortunately there appear to be NO kids on this street.  Zip.  Zero.  What we do seem to have an abundance of are the senior citizen set who, although very nice and welcoming, don't seem to have too much in common with the world's most awesome armpit farter.  I mean the lady next door who brought me a welcome to the neighborhood house plant seems very kind, but she didn't strike me as the armpit fart type, although I don't know this for sure, suppose I could always ask her.

         Needless to say Henry was pretty bummed to find out we'd moved to what appears to be essentially a retirement community.  How were we to know?  No one was outside when we came to look at the house, actually no one is EVER outside in this neighborhood.  All the residents drive up to their house, open the garage door, drive in, close garage door, and go inside.  That's it.  There's no "howdy neighbor!" business to be had, no one ever stays outside long enough for you to wave at them, it's weird.  I'm hoping that this is just going to be the case during these hot weather months, maybe they're all just huddled inside by the AC trying to keep cool and bug bite free.  Doug and I have tried prompting them to come out, we open the garage door, we set up the lawn chairs, we drink the wine, we talk.  What do we get?  Bupkiss.  They're probably all sitting in their houses spying on us through the blinds, "What are those wackadoodles doing out in their garage?  Don't they realize they could be inside with the AC?"

          Obviously we were not making much progress in the neighborhood friend department so we decided to join the local YMCA with their plethora of family fun opportunities we couldn't go wrong.  After much begging a pleaded for Henry to join one of the summer camps there he just wouldn't do it.  "Henry, look at all these kids running around, you could be having fun with them!  There are all kinds of camps we could do before school starts, you could meet some new friends!"

"NOOOOOOO!  Don't make me!!  Please!  I DON'T WANNA!"

        Well what am I going to do, force the kid?  "YOU WILL JOIN AND YOU WILL LIKE IT, DAMMIT!"  Typically I run under the "mommy knows what's best for you" credo but this time I just couldn't do it.  I figured hey, school is starting soon, he's bound to meet some kids there, I'll just leave him be for now.  We'll just spend these last few weeks by the YMCA pool (which is totally amazeballs by the way) before I start forcing him to do other activities like Tai Kwon Do, gymnastics and soccer, which of course is just a sample of the many things he doesn't want to join.  (He only wants to swim and play baseball, that's it.)

          The summer was fun, albeit short, and as all good things must come to an end school was about to start.  August 6th for crying out loud, who ever heard of such a thing?  I don't get it.  In my day we started in September, like normal people. Regardless of this ridiculously early start time his school is great, first day went swell, the teacher is terrific and just after one week she already emailed me to say how "precious" he is and how she's really glad he's in her class.  Awesome!  Score!  We have the world's best kid! WE RULE.  How did this become about us?

        This is the first time Henry has gone to a public school, he did pre-K and Kindergarten at a private Lutheran school in San Diego which was really small and awesome, I felt very comfortable having him there. It sucks that these days we have to worry about things like safety while they're in class.   But, the school had all those delicious private funds with which to hire security and take extra precautions to make sure all was well on the school grounds.  Plus, as it was run through the Lutheran Church, having Jesus there full time helped too.  I sort of felt like kids were less likely to bully knowing that they have to go to Chapel later on in the day where they're taught that Jesus is watching their every move.  (although I think this backfires in some of the kids, per example when Henry came home one day and said, "Mommy, do you know that you can do a bunch of wrong stuff whenever you want and Jesus will just forgive you?"  Uhhh, that's not exactly what that means, son.)
    
          Anyway, what you should be saying to yourself is, "Kristin, it's only kindergarten, I don't think you have to worry about bullies just yet."  Yeah yeah, well I DO worry, I worry about everything when it comes to this kid, I can't help it.  What if he gets bullied?  What if he runs with scissors, what if he gets a paper cut and they can't stop the bleeding, what if there's a malfunction at the drinking fountain and water sprays all over his pants and the kids think he pee'd himself???!!!  What if what if what if!!???  I have these what-if scenarios going through my head at all hours of the day, do other parents have this?  It freaks me out, I love my kid so much I can't help but constantly worry about him.  Which brings me to the main point of this post: kids riding the school bus for the first time or AKA how to incite crazy anxiety in your mother.

        As I mentioned this is Henry's first experience with a public school, and therefore he gets the option of riding a bus to school, for free no less!  Amazing.  I never took the bus when I was kid, even though I went to public, the school was just close enough for me to walk.  (can you imagine WALKING to school?  Absurd.)


                                               

                  

 

                                           


        For the first week of school I drove him, just like I've been doing for his entire life, but when the second week rolled around we said he was going to try riding the school bus. This idea was being pushed along  by my husband, an "old school" school bus kid.  My only experience with the big yellow buses were from what I saw in movies.  The cool kids sit in the back and beam spit balls at the ones in the front.  Bus kids also smoke cigarettes and tattoo themselves with razor blades and Bic pens.  This will all be in my next book: Things I learned from John Hughes movies.


                                                    

                                                                    Obviously a bus rider.



        Despite all my trepidation about this my husband put me at ease, assuring me the bus was safe and fine (except for that seat belt things, seriously, WTF) and that Henry's capable of doing this alone now.  (He thinks I hover too much, he may be right.  He also should go to bed, it's getting late.) For Henry, being a kid who has always been OBSESSED with massive vehicles like semi's, dump trucks, and school buses, the dude was stoked to ride the bus.  Me?  Not so much.  I mean come on, he's my little guy!  I always just drive him to stuff, that's how it's always been.  I know exactly where he is, who he's with, what the other kids look like, it's comforting.  I'm in control of this situation when I drive him.  When he takes the bus?  I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT'S HAPPENING!!!.   I'm just supposed to send him off with this strange man who pulls up in front of the house in a yellow bus?  BUT I'M ALWAYS TELLING HIM TO AVOID STRANGERS!   And where will he sit?  Will he have a tattoo when he comes home?  And what if he forgets his backpack and/or lunch on the bus?  Then what will happen?  And what happens when they GET  to school?  They drop off in front, I always dropped him off at the side!  Will someone be there to walk him to his class?  DOES HE EVEN KNOW WHERE HIS CLASS IS??   And what happens at the end of the day?  How will he know which bus to get on????  HOW WILL HE MAKE IT HOME WITHOUT HIS MOMMY THERE TO HELP HIM???  Ahhh!  It's too much, I can't do it! ( Boy maybe I do have a problem.)  But, for a first time bus rider mommy, this is a lot of stuff to deal with.  This is some big letting go.  I just had to assume that it would all work out, kids ride the bus everyday and live through it.  They all manage to get to school and home again perfectly fine.  It was just very stressful, I've never let out this much leash before and it's hard.  I keep saying, "But he's only six!"  I have a feeling I'll be saying this until the day I die.  "He's not ready to live on his own yet, he's only twenty nine!"

          But as much as I hate to admit it, he IS growing up, and he IS capable of doing some things on his own now and not wandering off.  We go over the "what to do if a stranger tries to give you candy to get into his car" routine all the time.  First time I asked him this his answer was, "You go with him.  Duh.  He's got candy."  (So, my worry isn't TOTALLY unfounded here, people.) I just have to have confidence that he's taken to heart the things we've taught him and will remain alive during the time he's out of my direct line of sight. 
 
          All this has been a good learning experience for me, it's helping me to let go a little bit, which is something I NEED to do if I want him to be a confident independent kid, but part of me is just not ready to let my baby go yet.  What's next, letting him ride his bike around the block, where I can't see him?  I don't know about that, seems extreme. 

          Needless to say he DID arrive home alive and tattoo free the first day of taking the bus.  He loves it and doesn't ever want to ride in any other kind of vehicle again.  He's likes his school, hopefully he's learning some new things, and enjoying his new independence.  He's already making some new friends, when I asked him the other day if he had a best friend at school yet he said, "Yep, the bus driver."

For all the young lovers.....

        People are constantly asking me, "Kristin, what advice would you give to all the young people out there thinking about getting married?"  Okay so no one has ever actually asked me that, but you know, if they did this is what I'd tell them:  If you can help it, do not get married too young.  Wait, wait, wait, wait, go figure out who you are first, live your life, THEN get married, you know, if you want to.  No pressure.

        I was 32 when I got hitched and if I had to do it all over again I'd do it exactly the same way.   Your 20's are for having fun and finding our who you are, not for committing yourself to "forever". I don't know why everyone is in such a big hurry to do this. Is it the fear of being alone?  Alone can be a good thing sometimes. If it's love and it's real, it will last.  Man, someone should be writing this stuff down.

        We, as far as we know, only live once and your youth, once it's gone, that's it, poof, it's gone, and now it's time to take your teeth out and go to bed, grandpa.  You NEED to enjoy it.  This is imperative to your future happiness, trust me. Go out, be stupid, stay up late, pass out on friends couches, travel the world, live in different places, make bad decisions, work weird jobs, make out with strange people at parties and then knock over the Culligan water cooler because you and that guys name you can't remember both fall into it.....not that I've ever done that, um, but, you know.....I heard about someone doing it...

        My point it, THIS is the time to be young and make bad decisions, this is how you find out how to make GOOD decisions later on.  And I'm not even talking about all that good stuff that comes with age that makes it even smarter to wait:  better self control, better financial stability, and of course lower divorce rate for those that wait.  Sure all that is great, but what I'm talking about is this:  Go find out who you are first before you decide to strap on the old ball and chain (I really do love being married, but I also love making it sound like it's a pain in the ass. My husband and I say this stuff to each other all the time "Have we only been married nine years?  Jeez it feels SOOO much longer."  Then we fall on the couch laughing and make out.)

                                                               They're almost ready.

        Back to my point, your late teens and twenties are such a great time in your life, take advantage of it!  THIS is the time you get a free pass where no one will try to enroll you in treatment programs or counseling sessions, do the stuff now that you can't do later on.  I mean, sure, you COULD go out to clubs until 2am and knock over water coolers when you're 52 but I can tell you you'll look pretty stupid. At 21 it's acceptable, at 52 your family is holding interventions for you and people are saying, "Who's that old guy?  Shouldn't he be home with his family?" 

         When my husband and I started dating he was 29 and I was 28.  We'd both lived an entire life before we'd dated and when we met we were just ready, there were no questions of "what if" or "but I haven't done____ yet" because we'd both done what we'd wanted and had already had all those crazy/stupid/questionable adventures and we're just ready.  I know my husband is who is he because of all those crazy things he did in his twenties, as I am.  Do I have to worry about Doug wanting to go out to bars until all hours of the night or trying to find himself at hipster coffee houses?  Nope, you know why?  Because he already DID all that stuff, and guess what, after too many adventures and wrong roads gone down, with some right ones thrown in, he found himself, and thank God for that, because shortly after that he found me, and isn't he lucky? I really feel as though our marriage has benefited from both of us truly being grown ups when we got married.  I'm happier than I could have imagined I would being married to him, because he knows who he is, and I know who I am and our marriage is stronger for it.

        Now that we're in our 40's it's fun to sit back and reminisce about the old days.  It's great to have those memories about the things we did in our youth, would I want to go out and do that stuff NOW?  Heck no, but I sure am glad I did them, some good, some bad, but all learning experiences.  They taught me a lot about who I wanted to be and also taught me about the kind of person I wanted to be with.  You have to date a lot, and you have to be alone a lot too.  Being alone is one of the greatest things you can do for yourself.  It gives you confidence and an ability to really know yourself, without relying on another person to define you. This stuff is so important to your future happiness and to the health of your future marriage, if that's what you choose to do, again, no pressure. 

          The reason why I felt compelled to write about this is because I recently came across an old journal of mine from my college days at UCSB.  I was taking some sociology class that required us to keep a journal of what college life was like for us on a day to day basis.   I only have one word for this thing:  Hilarious!  I don't even recognize the girl who wrote this thing, and if it weren't for the familiar curlicue writing I would almost swear it wasn't me. I was 19, a freshman living in the dorms on campus, first time away from home, fresh out of high school (from a town I'd lived in my entire life), playing on the school softball team, trying to pass my classes, enjoying the fact that I could ditch school if it was sunny and go to the beach without my parents getting a call from the principal, you know, living the dream.  This is what I loved so much about college, no not the beach (although that was freaking great, I could see it from my dorm room window, beckoning me) it was the freedom I was given.  It was like, "So you're telling me I can go to bed whenever I want, I can eat chips for dinner, and not clean my room, ever, and no one will reprimand me?  Yahoo!  I LOVE COLLEGE."

       It was a great time.  It's like one day you're a kid, then the next you're an adult..... It really is the first day of the rest of your life.  You just have to learn to harness that freedom, something that took me two years to do.....see, who says academic probation is a bad thing.  It taught me to simmer down now and get my ass in gear.  "You don't have to make your bed if you don't want to but you do have to DO THE FUCKING CLASSWORK OR THEY WILL FAIL YOUR ASS."  Ah.  Point taken. 

       So, this journal.  In it I go on about all the kids in the dorms and how much "partying" they were all doing all of the time.   If you're not familiar with UC Santa Barbara it's one of the top party schools in the country, or at least was when I went there.  Sure I'd been to parties in high school, I even got drunk once or twice AND, gasp, even used to smoke cigarettes but it was nothing like what I was to experience in the college dorms.  In the dorms people were drunk A LOT, some all the time...definitely overdosing on their new freedom.

       I saw, and inhaled, sometimes knowingly, sometimes unknowlingly, my fair share of pot, ate uncooked Top Ramen for dinner (it's oddly tasty) so that I could afford a sixer of Keystone, saw friends drop acid, drove them to go buy ecstasy, and once babysat some friends in the mountains while they went on a mushroom trip.  It was very entertaining, me and two other girls agreed to be the caretakers in case anyone tripped too hard, we sat up with them all night while they stared at the trees (which they said were crying and sad about humanity.)  Those harder drugs always freaked me out, I stayed with the soft stuff, but I still had fun and got to experience all this on the peripheral. I got pretty good at bringing my friends down from bad trips.  I wonder if I can put that on a resume... 
 
       College dorm life was much different than what I was used to and I think I'd probably watched too many after school specials as a kid because, according to my journal, in the beginning I thought everyone was "in trouble" and "had a serious addiction problem and should seek help".  Talk about dramatic. I apparently was even giving out pamphlets to my friends on the dangers of drinking and smoking!  Pamphlets! Ha! I don't even remember doing this but according to my journal, I did.  My friends all were gracious and took the reading material even though I'm sure they threw it all away as soon as I left.  I just cannot picture myself doing this, oh brother, it's amazing I have any friends from those days left.   I just was not used to the partying and this new "lifestyle" and obviously went a little overboard on my judgements.  Sorry, everyone, I only judge you because I care.

       The journal was a really fun read, I went from Miss Goody Two shoes trying to sign my friends up for rehab to passing out fully clothed only to wake up with a penis drawn on my face.  Okay so that didn't happen to me (some of my friends weren't so lucky) but you get the picture.  By the end of my freshman year I'd fully embraced the college life.  But that's a good thing, I got to experience all that stuff I was supposed to experience, and after too many fun "adventures", you realize that maybe this isn't something you want to do for the rest of your life.  But if I HADN'T done it, maybe I would always be chasing the dream of "what if"....the dream is always more glamorous than the reality, but if you don't do it you don't know that.  Do this dumb shit when you're young so that when you finally DO settle down you can be content with your decisions and don't have to sit around wondering.  At least this is what it's done for me.  You change so much in that time frame of 16-27, and if you marry too young you're still going to grow and change, but you both may not grow in the same direction.  And I'm not saying you have to go out and party, but go out and do SOMETHING, travel, chain smoke in coffee shops while writing your novel, move to a different town, live on your own, dye your hair orange, just do something!

       If you DO get married young my hope for you is that you are able to find that person you can go out be adventurous WITH, so you can both grow together, on the same path.  I know this can happen, I've seen it, sadly it's just kind of rare.  Too many times couples grow onto different paths, which is natural, but soon enough find out they've become totally different people and ultimately end up splitting.  You change so much over the course of your youth, don't limit yourself, find out what's out there and what your place is in it.  THEN settle down and be that person.

      Now that I'm a parent I think of the future possibilities for our son, and all the things I would love for him to do. I want him to go to college, I want him to travel, I want him to make some iffy choices and as long as he calls him mommy everyday, I will help bury the body.  But if he ever tells us he's getting married at 19 I will lock him in his isolation pod and take away all of his micro chips, flying cars and stuff (because this will be way in the future) until he sees my point of view.

       Okay so maybe I won't be that harsh, but I will STRONGLY recommend that he waits....Of course he'll be allowed to do what he wants...and if he wants to get married at 19 so be it....but only if we approve of the girl....or guy.....whatever....we're cool....just as long as they're not an asshole, and that they live together before they get married (imperative), they have to have traveled, and have gone to college, and have lived in big city at least once in their life.....jeez I have a lot of requirements..

    So kids, love is great, love is grand, and if it's real it will wait for you.  Go live your life, and when you DO decide to settle down remember to pick a good one.  It's not easy to be with the same person day in and day out, and you'll probably want to kill them sometimes, but just make sure your desire to make out with them on the couch is just as strong as the murder thing and you'll be fine.

And don't forget to floss.

I just want a night alone with my dvr, is that so wrong?...

                                                                      I got your crazy.

           This has been one craaaazy whirlwind month.  Alright, alright, month and a half if you want to get particular about it, jeez your such a stickler.

           In addition all the trips to LA I've taken recently for this and that, I decided to take a road trip with my five year old son and. my mother to visit the family in Seattle!  Seventeen hours.  In the car.  With a five year old.  Does the fun ever stop???

          Actually he did really well, sure various toys, food bits and random items of clothing may have gone whizzing by my head  from the backseat on occasion but all and all he was a stellar little traveler.  But he should be, he's an old pro at this by now.  He's driven across the country twice already (soon to add a third time come June) and I think this past trip will be his fourth drive from LA to Seattle.  Pretty torturous for a energetic kid like mine to sit still for that long but man he was a trooper.  I loaded up the car with library books, pens and snacks and just because I'm awesome like that I downloaded a SpongeBob movie for him on my kindle even though I don't let him watch that at home.  I also let him eat Fruit Loops at the hotel breakfast bar.  You may be saying to yourself, "Kristin, was that really wise to feed your child sugar cereal and and then strap him in to the car where he has to sit still for the next eight hours?"  What can I say, I didn't think it through.

                                                       

                                                    "Weeeeeeee! I LOVE FRUIT LOOPS!!!!!"


           Although he did great these big car trips are the times I feel sorry for him that he's an only child.  Oh the memories I have of my brother and I on these family vacations in the car (we drove from LA to Seattle at least once, sometimes twice a year to visit the family for as long as I can remember.)  We became proficient at the I Spy game, stop looking out my window arguments.....and finally maybe the best skill you could learn during a long car trip with your sibling: how to deliver a righteous, well timed dead leg. Bums me out that Henry has no one to give a good dead leg to.  I mean, I could give him one, but that just seems kind of mean.

                                                     

                                                                     The Family Truckster!

           AAAANYWAY,  Back to the trip.  It was great to see all the family, we really do get along so great, it stinks we don't live closer.  I even got to see my friend Janel that I grew up with, she made us a terrific lunch, we reminisced about grade school days and then she busted out her 6 grade sticker collection which, I'll be honest with you, I debated stealing it was so cool.  She had friggen E.T. stickers.  E.T!  What a classic.  I'll have to see what's in my own collection, maybe we can work out a trade with some of my bitchen scratch n' sniff.

                                                       This would have fit perfectly in my purse.

            The trip, despite that damn rain and cloudy weather Seattle is famous for but makes me want to hang myself in the shower, was fun.  We got to spend Easter Sunday with all the aunts, uncles, cousins and my ninety two year old grandmother who, although hard of hearing still tries to join in all the fun.  Grandma has had very adventurous life, she and grandpa raised four kids on a farm (my mom still brags how she learned to drive on a tractor) and traveled the world together.  Her name used to be spelled Betty but she changed it to Bette after being inspired by the famous actress of the day Bette Davis.  How cool is that?  It's like me changing my name to Madonna or something.  Not that I like Madonna, er whatever...shut up.

           Grandma Bette still tries, most days, to put in a good effort to pretend like she's hearing everything that's going on and enjoying herself.  She's sharp as a tack but can't hear worth a shit. But honestly, how much fun can it be for her to sit around watching all of us laugh and talk when she can't hear anything we say? I really do feel for her.  She's got those patented responses down when someone asks her a question she can't hear.  These include "Oh, uh huh."  and "Oh isn't that nice."  and "Oh sure, yeah.  Just great."  Now these responses usually can be applied to most topics of conversations so she pulls it off well, it just gets a little tricky when you ask her something that needs an actual answer.

Me:  "So grandma, when was the last time you made your famous garlic popcorn?"
Grandma:  "Oh, sure.  Yes, terrific."

          I know the cone of silence has got to be terrible isolating for her.  I mean, she used to be able to hear me ok but now it seems I can only get through when I'm practically screaming at her and something about that just feels wrong.  I find the easiest form of communication with her, when I'm not sitting right next to her that is, is email.  That way I can get my point across without being misunderstood and she can hear what I'm saying clearly and not have to just say, "Oh yes isn't that great."  She's pretty proficient at email, much better than she used to be anyway.  Her first emails were blank without a title, I'd click to open it and there'd be nothing there.  I'd have to scroll down for about a minute and there'd be her message, all the way at the bottom.  I still can't figure out how she did this but hey, at least she was trying, but nowadays she's got it down pat.  We email quite regularly and I find it's a great way to get to know my grandma.  Easy to forget she was once a young woman like myself with stories and romances and great tales to tell.

         Grandma  used to have this hearing aid (she's tried them all) that had a little remote control that she'd keep in her pocket.  When the volume of talking and laughter in the room got too much for her she'd just reach into her pocket and "boop" just shut that sucker off.  It was pretty funny actually, there was no effort to hide it, she was like, "Yeah, can't hear a thing, I'm outta here.  Boop."

                                                                   

                                                           No one has hands like a grandma.
 
           Well, despite the hearing obstacles she's still an awesome lady and we did manage to have some good conversations.  At one point during the visit she brought Henry something called a "penny whistle" which, as you can probably gather from the name, is a whistle you used to be able to buy for a penny. It actually looks more like a flute than a whistle and, according to grandma, is something that used to be quite popular in her day.  She got nostalgic and a little teary (she always gets teary when she talks about anything having to do with the past.) telling me how they used to play the penny whistle on the ferry rides across the bay when she was a kid.  Then she said something I loved and am still thinking about.  She got very serious and said sadly, "Kristin, nobody whistles anymore. It's a shame, really.  Everyone today is just too darn busy to whistle."

          It got me thinking, is this true?  Maybe, I don't know, I wasn't alive in the 30's did everyone go around whistling the day away?  Man I hope so, that sounds cool!  I think I still hear people whistling once and awhile but now that I really think about it I'm not so sure.  I'll have to pay better attention.  Luckily I still whistle (which she was delighted to hear) and I, in fact, have started teaching Henry to whistle too (no sound comes out when he does it but he loves practicing.)

        On a side note, have you ever tried teaching someone how to whistle?  Go on, try it.  It's not as easy as you'd think.  Very similar to teaching someone how to snap.  I don't know how it works, it just does, dammit.   Just wet your lips and blow. Yeah, right.

        Well after the week of visiting, yelling at my grandma and wearing parkas to keep dry was over, we had to head home.  Sad to say goodbye (especially to my grandma and my  88 year old great aunt since I don't know when I'll see them again) but I must admit I was looking forward to going back to the warm weather and normal routine.  When we're there for such a short time we're busy the entire time.  So many relatives to visit, it's fun but exhausting.  You need a vacation when you come home from your vacation.

         So after packing up (in the rain) and leaving Seattle we drove to just the outside of Portland and spent the first night with my old pal Kriste in Oregon.  This is my friend from elementary school but she left after 6th grade and I got reconnected with her via Facebook (she, Janel and I used to pal around and trade stickers).  Kriste is radness in a bottle but she lives far away so I don't get to see her too often.  She's the kind of friend you have that after you spend thirty minutes with her you already have inside jokes and weird nicknames.

                                                           The Gooch and 'gina ride again.

 
         Originally we were just going to stop by for a quick lunch on our way back to California but at the last minute we decided, screw it, we'll stay the night.  I mean, how often do you get to spend the evening with radness in a bottle?  Not often enough I tell you what.

So we pulled off the 5 and spent the evening in Corvallis, OR.
ORwhat?

Man, I love that joke.

        We had dinner with Kriste and her mom, then the moms and Henry left to go drink chardonnay somewhere (hopefully just the moms did that) and Kriste and I began our Tour de Bars, where we hit two of the sweetest dive bars I've ever been to:  The Peacock where she drank whiskey sours (because she said she wants to be a chick that drinks whiskey) and I drank their finest house red because I'm a connoisseur like that.
                         

                                                      Thankfully we were there on a Sunday.


           After the Peacock we then headed out to the next and last bar of the night which was attached to the restaurant "China Delight", which, conveniently happened to be located in the parking lot of my hotel.   Lots of fun to catch up with my old pal, again, why do all these cool people I know live so damn far away.  They should all pack up and move to Georgia with me....hey, it could happen.

        The next morning we got up, packed our stinking crap (no seriously it smelled, we hadn't done laundry in a few days) and headed on down the road.  Made it to Northern California that night, watched tv and fell asleep early.   Mom got the cold Henry acquired in Seattle and so she was sawing major logs that night, I kept throwing socks and various things at her to get her to stop but alas to no avail.  I had to try to sleep with all that racket. Now I know how my husband feels......not that he's sleeping with my mother, but because I apparently snore (who could believe that?  A dainty little thing like me?  Preposterous.)

         After a very unrestful night we awoke and got ready for the drive home.  Since we'd planned the trip out so well it looked like we were going to be back at mom's house in LA early that day, giving us time to relax for a bit before Henry and I headed back to San Diego that evening.  Easy peasy.

        Having you ever been driving along the 5 freeway between San Francisco and LA where it's nothing but farmland and tumble weeds and wondered to yourself, "I wonder what it would be like to breakdown all the way out here?"

       Well, wonder no more!  Yeah, breakdown, in the middle of fucking no where.  I haven't had that much fun since, well, never.  It sucked.

       Thankfully the car was driveable but just barely.  The cooling pump was busting so the car would overheat every ten minutes forcing us to pull over, shut off the engine, let it sit and then start it up again and drive for ten more minutes before it happened again.  We got out our handy maps (because neither my mom nor I have smart phones) and located the nearest town that we were hoping might have a car garage with a diagnostic machine.  I mean we could have called AAA but it probably would have taken them two hours to get to us (if they could even find us - "Yeah, AAA, we're out here, by that big stretch of dirt.") easier for us to drive ourselves even though it took a long time.
 

        That ordeal was a pain in the ass but I learned something from it. CHIVALRY IS FUCKING DEAD. Not even necessarily chivalry, just some damn human compassion for crying out loud. Here are mom and I, stranded on the side of the road in the heat of the day in the middle of fucking no where and these big trucks and various cars were just veering around us as we sat at the side of the road waiting for the car to start again...and nary a one stopped to see if we were ok.  Sure maybe we weren't waving our hands for help but still, no one even slowed down.  Not that we needed rescuing but still, it would have been NICE to know SOMEONE gave a crap and maybe stopped to ask if we needed anything.  Chivalry, along with whistling and compassion, is dead.  We are doomed.

       Anyway, to make a long story even longer, we finally made it into Fresno, found a Ford dealer, got the part we needed, and five hours later we were on our way.  Makes for an exhausting day.  We didn't get home until late that night so my and Henry's return to San Diego that night was sabotaged, I was just too damn tired to even think about it, but I had to get him back to school the next day.   But I told myself I didn't want to think about that then, I'd think about that tomorrow.  After all, tomorrow is another day.....

      Well, tomorrow arrived and Henry and I were on the road by 6:45am.  He in his pajamas clutching his beloved stuffed rhino (his bff since infancy, I shudder to think what might happen should we ever lose him.) and me in my old smelly clothes pouring coffee down my eye sockets trying to get this kid to school by 8am.  Yeah, didn't make that goal but managed to get him dressed in his seat at school by 9:30am.  Ahhhhh.  Home.  So nice to be back.  I managed to unload the car and, although I had great plans to put everything away in it's proper place, the lure of the couch and my week load of shows on my dvr was just too promising.  The couch won out.  It was heaven.

       Alas was short lived, before I knew it, the phone was ringing, mail was being delivered and my plants outside were screaming for watering.  It was then time to pick up the kid and take him to a doctor appointment, then gymnastics, then the grocery store for food......and so on and so on and so on.  Back to reality.

I need a vacation, or at least a solid 8 hours alone with my dvr......




     

Don Knotts Gets No Respect

                                            

          Ahh Don Knotts, Mr. Furley, Luther Heggs, Barney Fife, whatever your name is, I love you.  To quote Shakespeare "a rose by any other name would smell as sweet."  I'm not sure what this means exactly, but I think it has something to do with Don Knotts never failing to crack me up....

         Now this story happened to me a few years back when I was living in Baltimore but since I was reminiscing about it the other day I thought I'd share it, just in case I have some fellow Don fans out there....

         During my eight year time span in Maryland I worked for a motor coach company organizing tours and trips for groups.  I also occasionally escorted (no, not THAT kind of escorting) our retail trips, including our Broadway day trips to New York.  Part of these escorting duties (think Julie McCoy on a bus instead of the lido deck) include keeping the group informed of where to meet the bus, suggest places to eat, hand out show tickets, tell corny jokes on the mic (not a requirement but those lucky souls got them anyway) and to pick a movie to show on the bus for the long ride up and back.

Now this last task is not as easy as it sounds.  

          No matter what movie you pick to watch, there would be SOMEONE who would complain.  One of our escorts tried showing Forrest Gump on a trip when about 1/3 into the movie a woman came up to the front of the bus and asked her to turn it off as it was offending her daughter.  Really?  Forrest Gump? Lighten up, people. 

                                  

                                                          Run, Forrest......you racist son of a bitch.

         But, unfortunately, if even just one person asks, you have to do it.  Not my rule but whatever, you have to comply.  You just cannot please everyone however you do your best and pick something that you think will appeal to a broad spectrum of people. 

        So, here it was, my first day escorting the New York day trip to see “Hairspray”.  I had everything in order: coolers of water, printed itineraries, games to play, bad jokes in hand, the only thing I needed to get was what film to watch.  I decide to head out to Blockbuster (at this point there were still a plethora of Blockbuster stores around.) As I'm standing there in the PG section trying to pick something that has no swearing, sexual innuendo, and no nudity - which believe you me is no easy task these days, I run across the Don Knotts classic, "The Ghost and Mr. Chicken". Oh come on, this is perhaps the greatest movie of all time.  Ok, maybe that’s overstating it a tad but let’s face it, it’s pretty awesome. I absolutely love this movie, it's very goofy, Mr Furley at his best (if you have not seen this movie I feel sorry for you, go get it now.  Seriously.) 

         There I am thinking, "Oh wow, I will really win over this crowd tomorrow, I'm probably going to spoil them for anyone else, who doesn't adore this movie???  They are going to LOVE ME!" as daydreams of 50 bus passengers carrying me around on their shoulders floods my head.

        I decided to pick up Tootsie as well for the ride home, also a classic.

       The morning check in goes well, everyone shows up on time, all heads are counted, and so we begin our four hour journey up to NYC.  We play some games, I give them a little info on New York, pass out some maps, then I make my big announcement, saving the best for last, that I have a little movie that I know they are all going to just LOVE! 

      I announce "I'm about to put a movie in for your viewing pleasure.  Today it will be…(sufficient pause for suspense)… 'The Ghost and Mr. Chicken!"  

                      

                                                                 What's not to love?....

            Well, instead of being received with the reaction I was expecting: claps of joy and happy gasps of anticipation, I was instead given blank stares and lots of quizzical upturned eyebrows, signaling no recognition whatsoever.   Turns out no one had ever heard of this movie, and some had never even heard of Don Knotts!  For shame!  As you can imagine, the image of me being the hero was quickly deflating. What did I have going for me at this point?  Some bad rope jokes (frayed knot)?  Well, no matter, even if they had never heard of this movie I figured I’d win them over once, five minutes in, they’d be mine, or Don Knotts’s. Whatever. 

           I put the movie on and I’m sitting there in the front row of the bus just chuckling to myself, thinking everyone behind is probably doing the same, but as I turn around periodically to see their reaction I see most people are either sleeping, looking out the window or talking to each other, paying no mind to the movie whatsoever.  WHAT THE HELL!?  But, before I had time to pause the movie and reprimand them over the mic for not giving Don Knotts a chance, we had arrived early in New York.  So, I had to turn the movie off before the big, hilarious finish.  Much to my chagrin I received no complaints about stopping the flick early.  Hurumph.  

            Hairspray was great and everyone had a good time.  In addition to seeing the show (such a great perk of this job, I got to tell bad jokes on a microphone and see a bunch of Broadway shows for free) I picked up quite a few “designer”, ahem, purses for 5 bucks a pop.  I love New York and it’s cheap knock off crap.  I do love a bargain.....so what if Gucci is spelled with a k. 

            Everyone boarded the bus, abuzz with how wonderful the show was, what good food they ate and what deals they found.  All passengers are in a good mood, time to put in “Tootsie” my return trip movie since I decide I’ll probably be pelted with plastic handbags that say Nate Spade if I put The Ghost And Mr. Chicken back in.   

           But, before I do this I have to walk down the aisle and count the heads, making sure everyone is on board.  As I’m doing this one woman stops me and whispers quietly, "Can we watch the end of that other movie before you put Tootsie in?" 

           OH MY GAWD, YES! YES!  "Oh!  I've got a fan!  I mean, Don Knotts has a fan!  Of course!  Of course we can watch the end of the movie!!" 

           I’m thinking that maybe the others have been converted too but were just too afraid to ask! Yes, that must be it.   I excitedly scurry back up to the front of the bus and announce that I've had a request to watch the end of The Ghost and Mr. Chicken, to which the rest of the 47 people on the bus actually yell a resounding, "NO!" and other various noises that let me know that they certainly DID NOT enjoy my movie selection.   I reply to them with "come on!  It's Don Knotts!  It's a classic"....to which they randomly yell at me, "it's stupid! ….Don’t put it in….WE DON’T LIKE IT!"  There I am, arguing with 48 strangers over a microphone,  defending Don Knotts saying that he is a classic comedy actor and how can you not enjoy this movie! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE!!!   

          Well after much back and forth, I put it in anyway, I figure the old rule applies "if one person asks, you have to do it!"  Ha ha.  It’s me, Don Knotts and the lady in seat 35B against the world.  

                                                                 Who loves ya, baby.

            As the trip comes to a close and we reenter the lovely county of Baltimore I start reading my evaluations that everyone had kindly filled out for me, they say things like "Needs better movie selection.......Tootsie good, Don Knotts bad.....needs more recent flicks......Don Knotts stupid..." blah blah blah.  Well excuuuuuse me for trying to enrich their comedy palate.  Can I help it if they have no taste?

          The next day at work I tell my coworkers how 've lost faith in humanity, these people don't appreciate a good movie when they see one, let alone a comedy genius like Don Knotts.  They all of course laughed at me and thought I was ridiculous for bringing such an out of date movie and then they pelted me with day old donuts. 

          The day after that I come to work to find a huge picture of Don Knotts taped to my computer screen, with "Thanks for trying, Kristin." written on it.  From that day on it was displayed on the right wall of my cubicle, putting me forever under the watchful eye of my hero Don Knotts, and also reminding me of the movie I am never to bring on future bus trips.

         Well, Mr. Knotts, I tried my best.  Even thought I may have only converted one fan out of 50 I still love you.  The rest of them can suck it.

Yours, I remain,

Kristin Leoncavallo

Ode to the Single Parents

            Single parents, I don't know how you do it.  How do you raise children by yourself? There's no way I could do this by myself on any kind of constant basis, there's so friggen much to do.

            You cook for them, you clean for them, you discipline them, you love them, care for them when they're home sick, stay up nights catching vomit, keep the house clean, you do the food shopping, catch up on emails, take off work for doctors appointments or soccer/baseball/karate/gymnastics functions, sit with them and do their homework (which is like Shark Week for me, every night, the worst, he hates it, I hate it, I lose my patience, tears, his and mine, awful), find five minutes to go to the bathroom by yourself,  AND have a job without going completely insane?  Seriously, I'm asking, HOW do you do it?  I am only a single mother various times of the year because I'm married to a Navy man, but I'm only able to manage that with any grace (ha) because I know my husband is coming BACK at some point, but you,  I'm am in awe of you, single parents.  My hat goes off to you.....or it would be, you know, if I were wearing one.  I really don't look good in hats.

             Now I'm lucky, I have a wonderful partner in my husband but as I said he has to leave on deployments a few times a year, leaving me here with our 5 year old son.  Thankfully we're fortunate enough that I can be a stay at home mom, making all these above mentioned tasks easier, but even with all of that some days I find myself barely hanging on by a thread.  Today is one of those days.  Last week our son came down with a cold, and because he's such a good little sharer he decided to pass it along to mommy!  Ugh.  So now I have it and somehow got it worse than him, fever, chills, body aches, ear infection, the whole sha-bang.  All I want is for someone to come along and smother me with a pillow, I am in hell.

           As I'm laying here having a little pity party for myself I got to thinking about all you brave single moms and dads, how you manage all this with often times multiple kids and a job to go to.  What do you do you when your kid is sick?  Do you stay home with them?  What about when YOU'RE sick, do you stay home or have you used up all of your sick days staying home with them?  Do you just suck it up and power through?  WHAT DO YOU DO?

         I'm especially curious about this because next year I'll be reentering the work force, which I'm both excited and freaked out about.  I almost had an anxiety attack after dropping Henry off at his first day of kindergarten this year, and all I was doing was coming straight home after!  What's it going to be like when I have a job and I won't be able to get to him at a moments notice?  Jeez I sound like one of those crazy moms. But truly, the thought of having to do all that I do right now, AND having a job on top of it, it's a little daunting.   Maybe I'm just feeling overwhelmed at the moment because the husband has been away for three months and I'm sick.  It's been a seriously shit day.  Waking up with a heinous ear infection in both ears (which is actually kind of cool, I've been hearing all kinds of weird noises all day because my ear drums are effed up.  Lots of high pitched ringing, beeping, buzzing, either I have an ear infection or the government has implanted listening devices in my head.  Possibly both.)

         Where was I, oh yeah, waking up in a terrible mood after a terrible nights sleep, knowing I had a million things to do.  I'm throwing a friends baby shower this weekend and still have a huge list of things to do and buy, having to make Henry's lunch for school (which is difficult because the kid doesn't like ANYTHING I put in there unless it's fruity snacks.  I seriously thought about filling the whole damn sack with fruit snacks just so I could sit down and be done with it), getting him dressed for school, which is always so much fun (I personally have to yell at him fifteen million times a day to get his clothes on for school, the only thing that comes in close to that is how many times I have to yell FINISH YOUR BREAKFAST, it's a friggen nightmare), get myself dressed, get him to school, and now I have find time for a doctors appointment since I know I need some antibiotics, get to the tax office to drop off papers needed today, and then get to another doctors appointment for something totally different clear across town later that afternoon.  All this I have to do while I can barely hold my head up and every voice and noise I hear sounds like robots in my ears, sending pain down my entire body because my stupid ears are infected!  Well I lost it.  I just started crying.  Where is my husband!!  Waaaa!  I hate being a single parent!

        My poor son, here I am, standing in the kitchen, ears killing me, having to figure out what in the hell to make for lunch, shaky feverish aching body, and tears streaming down my face AHHHH.  This isn't supposed to be happening to me, I took an Airborne for crissakes! What a crock.

       He was such a sweet heart, he said, "I'm sorry you aren't feeling good mommy" and then he went in his room and got all his school clothes on WITHOUT ME HAVING TO YELL IT AT HIM ONE TIME TO DO IT.  Surely a first.  See!  I knew he could do it! Why can't he do that EVERY day?   He even finished his breakfast without me asking, little sweet boy, wanting to help out mommy.  Maybe I should bust out the tears more often, get some stuff done around here!  No, it's terrible to see your mom cry, I've only seen my mom cry a few times, and each time is worse than the last.  Moms are supposed to be strong and resilient, seeing them in any sort of vulnerable state is really fucking scary as a kid. I'll try not to do it again, but today, shoot, sometimes you just lose it.

          The bonus of all this was when I picked him from school the gym teacher came up to me and asked, with sad, understanding head tilted to the side, "How are you feeling?"

I said, "Henry told you I was crying, didn't he."  She laughed and said yes, he was telling everyone that his mommy was sick and was crying.

Terrific.

 I'm so glad all the teachers at school, and all of his classmates no doubt (who probably went home and told their parents) could be in on this stellar mommy moment of mine.  Oh well, there are worse things...I think.

      Well, it's been about three days that I've been sick, the house is a wreck, I haven't showered in days, there are toys and laundry everywhere, I could give a crap.  I'm sick, I'm supposed to clean?  I don't think so.  But I'm lucky, I at least know that TOMORROW I can sleep. If I can get through today I just might make it, but I know if I had an actual JOB to go to I would lose my shit.  I can look forward to my husband coming home soon and lending me a helping hand, but you, single parents, what about you?  You just power through a I guess, without, I'm assuming, being constantly drunk or bursting into tears on a daily basis.  You are stronger people than I, let me tell you.  If I were feeling better I'd be toasting you with my glass of chardonnay, so for now I'll just down this spoonful of DayQuil in your honor.  Here's to the single parents.