Before it Crashes

The milk is frothing in the background.  If I close my eyes, my ears are full and it is hard to decipher the noise within.  My eyes peruse the surround: college aged girls sharing dreams of nearing future; moms finding an hour within their day to talk about the woes of parenthood - coupled with laughter from the antics at home. Two gray haired, aged men sitting upon the leather chairs in juxtaposition as a woman reads her newspaper, looking up from time to time, almost questioning why she is here and what she wants from this split second instant.  A man comes in, hits me on the shoulder and bellows, "Hey, Katie, how the hell are ya?"  He just dropped one of his kids off at hockey practice and is squeezing in the time for the large coffee his friend just bought him.

I came here to write about me, but I have less than 5 minutes before my computer shuts down and i am not near an outlet.  I came here to write about me, but i am more entertained by the people who share in my existence in this moment: laughing moms, crying co-eds, a complete variation of generations sitting within this crowded coffee house, filling the space with voice, thought, laughter, and tears.  the background music is barely audible.  In a few hours, when the rush has passed, a sole barista will stand behind the counter, wiping it down with a wet rag, filling in her moment and listening to the music that fills the empty space.  my battery has 25% life left and my son will soon be picked up from his piano lessons.  I have yet to order my coffee as the line is solid and i do not want to break from thought. 7% left, 7 minutes until I leave.  7 perfect minutes to write and share.  Thanks for listening.

Connected

Many times in this life, i have deliberately disconnected myself from the world.  It was almost a safe guarding decision.  If there is a disconnect, then there are no expectations, no follow thru, no discord, no thought of what is to be.  But as often as I attempt to pronounce this time as if heralding out to the masses; it never simply takes.  Somewhere, out of the woodwork, comes a connection that is in need of seeing, hearing, feeling, and being.  These connections remind me of who I am, who i was, who i am still to be.  They make me stronger, more aligned, more intense with mission and they fill me.  truly fill me.  I am connected, whether i choose to see it or not.  I am strongly connected.

Thanks for listening.

Diving by Winds Instrution

A swift wind picks her up and she finds herself falling down by the sea – diving with no fear – for she just knows this is all going to be okay.  Within the mirror, she visualizes her younger ,protected self, her younger shield of glory.  This is a time of all abandon – she has never been here before, but is welcoming it like an old friend.

What is she to find here?  Hypnotically fixed within the void.  Ageless moments encircling and enticing the invitation to stay and ponder. No fear. Accepting.  Complimenting. Like a lyrical ping of sound, she finds contentment.

Her 10 minutes are almost up and she is beginning to feel the tug on her ankles by those whom do not wish for her to continue on this mystical moment.  One day, she will try to find this spot again, by the sea, to dive in again with no fear.

10 minutes

New Years Resolutions have never played a role in this life. I sit, I ponder, and ultimately, I pass.

This year, as I tried to make my argument for time - i thought i would take action instead of longing and then debating and then defeating.

So, on the top of my list was to take 10 minutes each day to write. I am not sure what will come of it, but I will give myself at least 10 minutes, if not more. No crying babies, no child by my side, waiting quitely and patiently for mommy to be done with her 'selfish deed,' and no agenda but to write.

I have been asked to be a guest writer on another blog and that is where most of my writing will take place. Second on the list is piano lessons. at 7:15 this evening, I made my way to my children's piano teacher and slowly plunked away at the keys. Elation filled at the end. Number three, go to bed at a decent hour. The alarm is always set for 6:15am, no matter what time i get to bed.

So, tonight, I sat for my 10 minutes. A bit tired, a bit ambivilent, but nontheless, took part in the exercise.

Result of 10 minutes of time.
What can happen in 10 minutes? We are about to find out. The vertical line..blink, blink, blink.

What can happen in 10 minutes? I wish I knew.

I approached this journey with a willingness and peaceful resolution and I am in search of truth – like Alice in the Looking Glass – searching for pieces that will find me out; to see what and where I have been, where I am going and where my passions lie.

10 minutes. I am frozen by this desire.

The grey matter of mess rallies and commands an attention that is not yet available. Beating inside, think, do, write, and say something!

5 minutes

Yet, music rhythmically brings it all back together and yeah, it will be ok. Do nothing today, give into the break . Let your imagination run away, close eyes, turn the sound up a bit, move within the beat.

10 minutes – what can happen?

This.

In Honor of Whimsy

Whimsy: it is random, spontaneous, and free from forethought. It is not rational. Behavior is whimsical – well, it can be, if allowed…but then, is forethought involved? Is whimsy contemplative? I believe it is.

There are great moments of desire with whimsy. I yearn to be impulsive, capricious and fickle. This comes out in manic choices, frolicking moments and determined time away from predictable reality.

Whimsy is challenging, time intensive, yet breathe taking and lovely.

I have been within its bubble – its protective casing with orchestrated music and movement. It has enveloped my senses, cushioned the scene, and has allowed me to bow my head in humility. Whimsy.

The Gig is Up

In years past, I have been able to pull off Christmas. I have been able to recreate a magic that is almost humanly impossible (in the eyes of my children). The doubt in the magic of Christmas and even Santa Claus was close to nil - until this year. Clearly, the suspicions have housed quietly in thought; but have been kept at bay. I have intently kept the 13 year old in the dark, simply because I knew he would eagerly blow a cover I had so diligently tried to keep up. He would boastly declare to siblings and friends that he knew otherwise. No tact, no masking, no social cues would be had.

The other night, I found a pretty cool "Santa Video" page and I thought I would send it to the 9 year old; who seems to still have the innocent magic driving her dreams. Take a look:

http://www.portablenorthpole.tv/watch/8zcIvtUGgLo2tE7x2_q3aA

She received the email and excitedly (with a hint of "how could this happen....hmmmm) discussed it with the family.

Not an hour later, THE GIG WAS UP.

As both parents were out gathering last minute details to add to the magical day, the 13 year old took the address - portablenothpoletv and logged in. He sent both his mother and father an email from Santa Claus. All the while, showing his sister that the Santa video was all rigged by her mom.

Driving home, i receive the email 'from Santa," and my reaction was mixed. "OH NO!" was first, followed by laughter, followed by, "LUCY!!??"

Getting home, 13 year old shouts from the upstairs, "You have an email from Santa waiting for you!" I slowly walk upstairs and the little girl awaits my arrival. Face forlorn, slumped shoulders, head slightly bowed.

It was time to rally. Even though the car had bags filled with stocking stuffers, it was time to rally. I could not, in good conscience, have it end so abruptly by a 13 year old.

We sat on the couch, snuggled, cried, discussed and then brought the brothers in - whom have since wiped the smirks off their faces, after seeing the affects of their ill thought out plan. They came in, apologized to their little sister and then the discussion began.

Christmas. Magic. Birth of Jesus. Unexplainable moments during the season that even mommy and daddy can't imagine. We talked about the "what will happen if you stop believing in Christmas." I think i got it. I think i handled it (with the grace of God).

The gig was up - and i know the thoughts and questions are inescapable - but bringing her in, as any mother bear would, i have offered her a cushion for the fall.

Thanks for listening.

Okay...Bye

Is it social skills, lack of parenting technique, teenage brain syndrome or simply, Perry? Sometimes I wonder, when he leaves the house, will he ever return?

Our telephone conversations:


"Hi Mom. I was wondering if I could invite a friend over?"
"That sounds fine - (fill in with miscellaneous mom stuff) Is everything okay at the house?"
"Ya."
"Alright, then, I should be home shortly. I love you."
" Okay. Bye"

click

"Hi Mom, Simon wants to know if he can invite Sam over?"
"That's okay with me - but is the baby still asleep?"
"Ya."
"You guys would have to be really quiet, if he comes over."
"I know."
"Well, I am on my way home, and should be there soon. Thanks for babysitting and being responsible. I love you."
"Okay. Bye"

click

"Hi Perry - how is your road trip going with dad?"
"Good."
"Are you and dad keeping each other company?"
"I guess."
"How many hours do you think you have left to drive?"
"I dunno."
"Why don't you hand the phone over to dad. Hey - I love you and miss you. The house is pretty quiet."
"Okay. Bye."

click

"Mom, can you pick me up a pack of AA batteries?"
"Sure. Anything else?"
"Ya, can you also get me something to snack on?"
"Give me examples?"
"I dunno. Something I would like."
"I think i can do that. Anything else?"
"Nope. Bye."

Click

Quick Dodge Left....now Right.....

I grew up on video games. I sold my siblings out for money for video games. I spent the greater part of my pre-teen years in store fronts that housed any unit of 25 cent entertainment. I am armored with the skill of the game and house within, a lexicon of movements, agendas, quick hand maneuvers and Atari like quickness that can outdraw even the finest of gamers.

Often, I laugh at my own real life video game scenarios. My children will laugh with me as i detail my drive home as if it were my very own video game and we make up the agenda..."Oh, there is the old lady crossing the street that we always hit....and the three legged dog that we will let pass....and the tree branch that we *always* have to dodge - even though we hit the poor kid in the wheel chair - mainly a casualty of point deduction.

Tonight, again, I revisited Katie's realistic video game. Tonight was the Twin's Christmas Party. As I have said in the past, much of this organization's employees have been around years before my husband had ever even joined. For instance, tonight, we celebrated a couple of 25 year'ers as well as a 45 year'er. It is a place where we have grown - literally: children, spouses, families, careers, venues, and domains, it's a place of connection...and to miss it would clearly bring upon a feeling of loss.

Again, our babysitter cancelled. We have a 13 year old who confidentially assured us he was capable of the job. On a test drive 24 hours prior, he flunked. I came to the conclusion, i was not to go -- meaning, that all other activity for the evening was on: Choir, 6th grade party at church and even an 8th grade party at church (which was cancelled by mother on account of missing assignments at school).

Twins party began at 6:15 and dinner to be served at 7:30. On the drive home from choir practice (6:30), the 21 month old yawned 3 times on the 1 mile trek. "Could I possibly wing this?" I thought. "Could I set him down upon arrival and leave when all is quiet? Hmmm...perhaps." The wheels began to turn, the text messages to husband commenced and the outfit was picked and splayed upon the bed.

The 25 cents was placed within the slot, the intro music surrounded the scene and the game began.

First Obstacle: Get baby down - calmly. Follow the routine....tedious 21 month old routine - don't skip anything, or you will be caught. Don't give any hints away. Act as if nothing is happening. So far so good. I might be able to make dinner by 7:30 (downtown).

Second Obstacle: Get 11 year old home from church. Called friend. No answer. Called cell phone - no answer. Called her husband cell phone... no answer. Tried all three again.....no answer.

Third Obstacle: dress. I have let my house go. I have not been within the frame of mind to keep up within the daily grind and the biggest victim calls upon my bedroom. All laundry has been dumped - literally dumped. Baskets sit upon baskets. Clothes spatter about the floor. My shirt was somewhere within the pile. One boot was here, the other was somewhere. The tank top was .....where was that tank top? The clothes once gathered in a pile were now strewn upon the bed, upon the floor, hanging from the fan, glued to the window, draped over the TV, hanging from the door knob....in frenzied desperation, i needed a shirt, a missing boot and some tights. AH - the tights.....i found the tights. I squeezed into them, only to realize that there was a tiny hole at the back of the knee. nope - take off the tights. Successfully find another pair. tank top gets gathered at the top of the chest and caught within bra strap.
I yank a couple of times before I realize that I need to slow down and unlease it from the strap. Bra shows too much, i need to take off tank top, take off bra and get another one. One the bed? On the fan? over the TV? In the closet? Where was that bra???? WHERE IS THE BRA!!??

Remember that I still have to get 11 year old home. Called friend. No answer. Called cell phone - no answer. Called her husband cell phone... no answer. Tried all three again.....ah, answer. YES, she can bring him home!!! Obstacle diverted...500 points!

I tell 13 year old that all is quiet and I am really going to try to make this work. It is now 6:55. My tights are changed, i am dressed, my hair is.....well, my hair just is. and I say good bye and ....well...with all good video game systems, it just can't be that easy. I have somehow reached the next level of difficulty. The baby begins to call out my name and he sees me in the hallway tip toeing towards the door (not good). I go in to get him a bottle and re-live his already committed bedtime routine from before. As I enter, the room is filled with a familiar smell. This baby has not messed his diaper at this particular time of night for at least 6 months. WHY NOW? It STINKS! I pull him out, take off the dirty diaper, and clean him up. There is no turning back. he is now out of his crib, out of his routine and in need of holding, cuddling, playing, etc. There is no way he is going back in the crib. I text my husband --- now irate that the ultimate plan is not working. I share some very unflattering language on my behalf and he and his group of co-workers get a good laugh at my decoratively flavored text messages. I was not going to make it. Too many obstacles. I resigned. But just as I do - the baby seems to quiet down. Seems to encourage a bedtime ritual once again. I put him down and quickly go through the motions. He is quiet.

Some how I dodge here and I dodge there and the babe goes down. Not sure how - but he did! Meanwhile, husband is apologizing on the behalf of me missing the party ( at the new ball park, by the way, in a swanky club for ticket holders). I text back, "DO NOT rule me out just yet!"

Obstacle 4 - Traffic
I begin to leave. Thinking this is the last thing i have to worry about. I back out of the driveway and get stuck at the bottom. The snow was recently plowed and a pile was at the bottom of our driveway. I make it through and navigate our neighborhood streets. Turn onto the main part of the road, right behind another vehicle going literally 10MPH. As much as I wanted to honk the horn and yell out the window, i remained composed. The freeway was full of seasonal traffic - but made it downtown in record time. I round the corner and as i turn on my blinker to turn right into Target Field, i was greeted by a very large and very closed front gate. I texted john, "SOMEBODY TRULY DOES NOT WANT ME TO BE HERE TONIGHT!!!" he tells me that he has called security and the gate should be opened soon. Before my eyes met the period at the end of the sentence, the gate unassumingly opened. I was in the parking lot. I was within minutes of a night out. Text: "Please order me a very big drink!"

We sat at a table with john's colleagues and I sat right next to a women whom I know. Her son is in the same grade as Perry. Attends the same school. Is in some of the same classes. Runs cross country and is a classic teenager. We were able to share our own stories of "WHAT?" "HOW?" and "I TRULY DO NOT UNDERSTAND YOU" moments over a couple of glasses of wine. The windowed Metropolitan Club looked out over the city as well as the ball field. Upon the big jumbo field screen (outside), a video of a fireplace and lit fire scene set the ambiance. A couple glasses of wine, some great conversation, a wonderful program and moments of, "Man, my husband is so happy to be here," filled my soul. I made it through all the video game obstacles and was able to share in periods of familial camaraderie within this organization that has been well apart of our lives for the past 17 years.
Thanks for listening.
Katie

Boston Tea Party

For my 8th grader's final project in social studies for the Revolutionary War study, he has decided to write a song and sing about the Boston Tea Party. Presently, his father is on his left and I am on his right...working with him singing his lyrics into a computer and matching it with the song he has chosen --it is a rap song that he has chosen because he said it was easy to match with a simple melody and he mentioned that most people in his class are familiar with it. He is doing quite well and when it is all done i will see if i can attach a file...or maybe even get it on Youtube

Youtube song with lyrics - it would be helpful to watch this first to understand how he arranged his lyrics.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zq6Y1clwPI4


I’m going to the Tea- Party
It all happened in 1773
Men disguised themselves as Mohawk Indians
It was done to protest the king
The Sons of Liberty all came to the party-party
The party, party, party…Wa-hoo
It’s the Boston Party

342 chests of tea were dumped
King George the III was the king at this time
The British admiral watched the whole thing at this time
Paul Revere was a simple part of this crime
Coffee means patriot
Tea means Tory
They sang a son while dumping the tea
They and robbed three ships
60 men were a part of it
I know the Sons of Liberty organized all of it
So c’mon, let’s go and throw some tea over board
C’mon don’t worry
Everyone will help tonight
There were also two tea parties
One for 9/11 and one in ‘73
The company lost 40,000 E

I’m going to the tea-party
It all happened in 1773
Men disguised themselves as Mohawk Indians
It was done to protest against the king
the Sons of Liberty all came to the party, party, par-ty
the tea –tea party, the party…Wa-hoo
Its the Boston Party
2000 watched the party
Colonists rejoiced all the time
there was no resistance any of the time
It stirred rage and admiration
one tried to steal some tea
He was punished severely
it was forbidden to unload the boat named Dartmouth
John Adams praised them for their hard work and laobor
It would not have happened if the ships left December 17
There were 2000 chests with 600,000 pounds
Samuel Adams tried to stop it
But the colonists said no and took themselves upon it
The Beaver wasn’t touched, nor was the Dartmouth
the British were appalled of this act with the tea

I’m going to the tea-party
It all happened in 1773
Men disguised themselves as Mohawk Indians
It was done to protest against the king
the Sons of Liberty all came to the party, party, par-ty
the tea –tea party, the party, party, party…Wa-hoo
Its the Boston Party

The Boston Tea Party!!