In his own time.....

My oldest son has always been my primary topic. Topic of concern, topic of comedy, topic of angst, topic of humility, topic of learning as a parent, topic of ...well, typically, topic of the first thoughts and words out of my mouth. He has given me a multitude of headaches, heartaches, elated and yet sometimes despondent moments in his 12 years of "US."

I have written throughout these short summer weeks about this child, more than my other three. He is a constant in my writings and observations. At times, he is the bane of my existence and yet, he is irresistibly enchanting at times and my fondness for him is inexplicable, at best.

This morning, i get a call from his piano teacher and for 20 minutes, she tells me how much she has enjoyed Perry as a student as of late. she tells me how congenial he has been and how he blows her away with his intelligence - this makes me laugh. Perry has an untapped intelligence - it is not a clear, "let me blow you away with my knowledge of buoyancy and hydrostatic state of fluid" - but something deeper and unclear that will present itself later in life. I have written about this before. Perry will have an extraordinary life that I can not present myself to even imagine.

Anyway, she called to tell me how charming my son is and it has set my day. I have to cut this short, as my 3 month old is demanding my time. Thanks for listening.

unconditional love

as a new parent, you hear the term, 'unconditional love.' it plays over and over in your head like a scratch on a record. Unconditional Love, Unconditional Love, Unconditional Love. People close to you continue to say, "Oh, you will love that child with unconditional love." It is a song that you have learned to memorize, but in your naivete', you don't quite understand.

When I was younger and my babies were, yes, babies, I loved them with my exploding heart. I protected them like any great momma bear would and I helped them fight their battles like the best lioness in the land. I would speak quietly to them at night and tell them that my love for them was UNCONDITIONAL.

It is only now that i look back and think that i really didn't understand what unconditional love meant. I took that phrase for granted and accepted that, yes, I will always love my children...it was easy. Nothing tested that love. When I needed them, they were right there with a hug, a kiss, a hand hold, etc. When they needed me, my arms were wide open, my ears were keen on listening to their woes and my heart was beating with incredible acceptance of the moment.

This phrase, unconditional love, is wasted on young mothers. It is needed most when your children are in need of detaching from your strong hold. A mother will always and forever desire the hand holding, the hugging, the spontaneous quiet kiss followed by a whispered, "I love you," but a growing child sees these small acts of affection as a bump in the road, only to slow him/her down in the exciting future that lays ahead.

I am, with great heartache and yearning, experiencing the world of unconditional love. I reach out for my child's hand and he pulls away. I run to him after a week of not seeing him, to only be greeted with a shoulder shrug amongst his friends. My ears cling to words and phrases, as he shares but small bits of his 6 days away from home. I want to cradle him, kiss him (and at times, met with great resistance, I do anyway) and I whisper to him, "I LOVE you sooooo much."

As I type this, i think of "The Giving Tree." God as called upon every single mother to not only go through the pain of childbirth - but the pain of her child growing up. He also calls upon you to test that love with great vehemence when you want nothing more but to like you child.

I am now embarking on a shaky trail. I see ditches, weeds, boulders to climb over, divots within, and crumbling paths and oddly enough, as i type this - i picture this: My children ahead of me on that path - walking with great security as if they know the way - the path is clear and crisp - and as i follow behind, tumbling over the logs and the rocks and the tall weeds, I secure the tie on my cape that I have written in permanent marker, UNCONDITIONAL LOVE

Thanks.

And after a long time
the boy came back again.
"I'm sorry, Boy,"
said the tree, "but i have nothing left to give you -
My apples are gone."

"My branches are gone."

"My trunk is gone."

"I am sorry," sighed the tree.
"I wish that i could give you something...
but I have nothing left. I am just an old stump. I am sorry..."

"I don't need very much now," said the boy
"just a quiet place to sit and rest. I am very tired."

"Well," said the tree, straightening herself up as much as she could
"well, an old stump IS good for sitting and resting.
Come boy, sit and down, sit down and rest."

And the boy did.

The Strolling Fingers

Once again, my eyes look at the clock – 9:15pm it says …9:16pm

I have been here for a short while – nibbling snacky foods in the car as I watch the sun set on Lake Minnetonka and watch the people stroll on by with little purpose, but to stroll and take in the night air. Tonight was a date night for john and me, but again, the Twins won the draw. So, it is simply me and the sunset. Calling upon friends just didn’t fit. It was a night for John and I (first night alone without Sidney) or no night at all.

So, the strollers and I spend an evening together

“Can’t I just sit in the car?”Says a preteen.

The bright yellow plaid shorts shout…I mean, the graying old man shouts, “Will ya look at that boat!”

The air is still, hands are being held and the sun kisses it’s good night. Lots and lots of ice cream cones

“…one word they use way too much over there is Gratzi ,gratzi, gratzi”

“…and I was laughing my butt off…that skirt is way too long!”

In innocence the family of three passes by; I turn my music down and listen in. “We don’t want you to date until you are 17, Michelle.”

This posting is made of nothing but spontaneous observations and as I look about and see , two young adult girls try hard to look graceful walking along in heels – and yet, they walk with great intent on keeping their balance. I somehow parallel my life to their walk

My strolling fingers matching the steps of anonymity.

The clock knows I am tied to it and this moment of independence is laughable at best.
Thanks for listening

40

One, two, three, four

I waited patiently for the Lord
He inclined and heard my cry
He brought me up out of the pit
Out of the miry clay

I will sing, sing a new song
I will sing, sing a new song

How long to sing this song?
How long to sing this song?
How long, how long
How long, how long to sing this song?

He set my feet upon a rock
And made my footsteps firm
Many will see
Many will see and fear

I will sing, sing a new song
I will sing, sing a new song
I will sing, sing a new song
I will sing, sing a new song

How long to sing this song?
How long to sing this song?
How long, how long

U2

How long, how long to sing this song?

hand games

so many hand games to play to decide who is going to be the solo person "it" in a game, or who will be chosen first among friends to participate. This evening, we all gathered to play a family game and Lucy was to decide who was to be first. She signaled for our hands to all be together in the middle of the table and she would chant some age old chant to decipher the leader.
As i wait and listened, I began to think of the chants I used as a kid

*Bubble gum, bubble gum, in a dish...how many pieces do you wish*
*Eenie meenie mienee, moe - catch a tiger by the toe...*
*Cinderella, dressed in yella, went upstairs to kiss a fella*

Lucy comes to the table, points her finger down at each of our hands and begins the innocent rap ---

"Kirbey Puckett
pooped in a bucket,
what color was his poop?"

I thought this was so funny, i had to jot it down and now i am being summoned back to the game.

The beat walks on with methodical steps
Slow..slowly trudging with heavy thoughts
One step -- two step---three step..watch the beat...watch it getting faster.
There she goes..running and running
Round and round in circuitous pattern
Arms wider now - jumping within a renewed rhythm.....watch her dance!
The graying statue stays behind - tears falling from the hardened face.
The water begins to move and with its force, she is swept away.
Gone, gone, gone. she is not afraid anymore. there she goes.

Time of Transistion

My present position: Dunn Bros Coffee House in Minnetonka, Minnesota.
My present company: 11 week old baby - nestled into my chest, covered with blanket, and feeling cool breeze upon his infant toes.
Present Senses:
Sight: road ahead of me, cars passing by
Smell: Coffee and Lilacs and Sidney's head.
Feel: Sidney's soft hair.
Hear: People's remote morning conversations, construction hammering, wheels turning, birds rhythmically chirping.

Transition

As i caress the head of my three month old son, my 12 year old is at the local Jr. High taking his math placement test. I can't help but look at my van parked in front of me and see the emptied seats - currently vacant, but characteristically bursting with children conversing, singing, crying, and fighting.

Transition

My oldest born is entering into a world i cannot fathom. As an onlooker comes by to dote on Sidney, she asks me if this is my first. I laugh, thinking… this is my last. My oldest is out there, demonstrating a valor step in independence and I hold this little one who clings through his daily dependence. My oldest says he is neither nervous nor excited; but when i advise that he walk ahead of me and check in, he says, "No, i will help you with Sidney and walk with you."

I quickly reminisce back to a little boy walking into All saints Nursery School with his clean sandals, sharp and ironed shirt and snappy back pack – tangling his little fingers within mine as he assess his world. Today, he is older - smudged shorts, wrinkled t-shirt, barely combed hair and I question if his teeth are brushed - but in his own way and time, he is holding my hand....or am i holding his?

Transition

I admit ~ i don't want to let him go. I, too, am transitioning and growing and as i look down at my youngest, as he smiles and coos at this alone time with mom - i grow a tad solemn; knowing this time shall pass and it won't be long before this little boy is in his starched new shirt and his snappy back pack, standing in front of the preschool sign being asked to smile before we head on in to his new classroom.

Transition

My oldest just called on the cell phone and is ready to be picked up.

Present smell: my babies head
Present feel: Apprehensive, tentative and tearful
Present sight: I take a step back and watch my first born begin to lead me instead of the other way around
Present Sound: the birds continue, the cars persist, the conversation has not died out, and yet, i can only concentrate on my oldest who says, "Mom, come and pick me up, I am done with my test."

My world is now quieted as I make my way through this transition in time.

a reference to day

Today began mild and typical. Fitting in my world. When the morning was still within it's quiet awakening, my oldest son asked:

"What are we going to do today?"

I hate this question.

Somewhere within the depths of me came Julie McCoy, the cruise director. Options were stated.
1. I want to go swimming!
2. I want to go roller skating!
3. I want to go to the Chutes and Ladders Park!

I slowly slumped further in my chair, as I simply wanted to 'hang out' as I always do.

We called some friends, but they had already made plans for the day. I latched onto this "Oh well, we tried" moment and I began to relish the day's quiet.

As I was taking in the scene from our backyard deck, my oldest suggests that we all go bowling.

I quickly calculate this in my head and with loud question, i think, BOWLING? bowling? hmmm......bowling.

Okay.



The three run in all directions - grabbing shoes, money, brushing teeth, putting on socks.

We pick up some lunch and eat it outside before going in. We bowl our one game a piece and the day's FUN was over within the hour.

We head home. I pull into the garage and quietly leave the chattering dialogue of what to do next.

As a unit, we made the decision to go to Minnehaha Falls. We made it there just fine, but learned, after the descent down the 134 steps, that the falls were under construction and many of the trails were closed. SO, we went back up the stairs - with baby in tow. The oldest son leads us onto another trail and we find ourselves deeper and deeper on a long and windy trail.

Meanwhile, baby is getting hungry, so we pause to take a break for Sidney's lunch.

As soon as I get settled with Sidney and the kids

seem to be content, Simon says, "I have to go poop!" I advise the woods and he denies my option. "I can run to the top!" I encourage the woods again and he continues his denial and makes a run for it. Two minutes later, Perry says, 'I hear Simon crying!"

I whip the family into shape and we head back. we all take a bathroom break and head on home -but first, stop on over to a friends house who just finished up a remodel. we hop on the freeway and it is backed up with traffic.

Sidney begins to sound off and I pull off of the already crowded freeway to a fairly emptied parking lot and feed him again.

Soon, (but not soon enough) we are back on the freeway heading home. we make it home - i send the kids outside and open up a beer and head on back to my back side deck to take in the remainder of the day!

Now, it's time for ice cream!

Text messages between husband and self during day

They call me Julie McCoy, the cruise director *(katie)

*?? (john)

We are bowling at the moment.....perry just hit simon (katie)


Off to Minnehaha Falls (katie)


Falls under construction This of me with a crying baby and going up and down steps. (katie)


HELP!!! (katie)

* What's up? (john)


I am stuck and frustrated (katie)


*On your way home? (john)


No, go back to work (katie)


* Just in a meeting. I will call you when done. (john)


Far, far away from civilization and simon has to go poop Sidney is presently nursing and I am laughing. (katie)

* Find a tree, use a wipe and head back to the car. It worries me that you are sort of alone with the kids. (john)

No big deal...packing up ..he is making a run for it and we will meet up with him...Sidney is still hungry - but sorry. Still smiling. (katie)


All back together. Simon turned around and began crying out really loud. Now I am not smiling. (katie)


Stopping off 62. Traffic. Need to nurse and change diaper. Unhappy baby. (katie)

Appreciation

Presently, i am sitting at the head of our kitchen table, looking over bills, scheduling field trips, summer outings and letting our cat in and out of our door. Nothing that would elicit an exciting response by anyone.

On the other hand, to my direct left, all three of my children have the radio blaring in the next room - "I'll tell ya want i want, what I really, really want....." "Who let the dogs out....who? who? who?" "To the left, take it back now ya’ll 1 hop this time, right foot let’s stomp Left foot let’s stomp, Cha Cha real smooth..." All three in rhythm run to the bathroom, drop a handful of gel in their hair - which is never enough - and run back out to groove on!

"Hey, look at this move!"
"Hey --- do you know that i can do this?"
"Mom???? I don't want you to watch me right now!"

In my peripheral, i see my son changing into his hipper and freely moving 'dance clothes', hair spiked and baseball hat positioned sideways.

I can only appreciate this significant time from afar. I made the failing attempt to show off my cool mom moves and I was quickly told that I was not invited. I countered with some 'hip' banter and again, affirmed that the old lady simply could not match their eclectic energy.

So, I slumped back to the kitchen table, where bills and calendars awaited me. I turned back, closed the pocket doors and poured myself another cup of coffee. I can appreciate this free and spontaneous 'kid' time. It makes it's way through out house like the comforting aroma of a savored dish.

The dance moment will soon be replaced by the in depth world of legos. Battles will be held, stations will be captured, treaties will be formed and with every sound imaginable, lego ships will fly about the room with set missions. I will be asked to come into the room to agree with my ohhs and aaahs but then dismissed. Dad knows how to play legos; mom, clearly does not (smile).

Another sip of coffee, another sentence in the blog and now it is time to close for the day