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Remember back to when I mentioned that Feburary was DENTAL HEALTH MONTH? Well, I had asked you to please warn me when POKE YOURSELF IN THE EYE month was coming? Remember all that nonsense? Well, I am so glad I brought it up. Because my friend, Beck, was the first (and only, I might add) to warn me that MARCH is, indeed, POKE YOURSELF IN THE EYE month!
Ah man. I am so glad someone told me.
So glad.
Here is how we celebrated:
She said, “Hey, this girl doesn’t even flinch… wow!”
I guess, technically, Izzy isn’t poking HERSELF in the eye. But, it was the best we could do.
My kids are in band.
My husband was the DRUM-MAJOR at his high school… so, yeah… my kids were doomed to be band-geeks. I was on drill team in high school, so I got to parade around in short little skirt and swivel my hips while said band nerds played “Tequila” at football games. I am not sure what this dooms my kids to be… I won’t go there.
But in all fairness the band at the local junior high is full of the cool kids. Largely in part to an amazing band director who wins, like, POPULARITY contests for being the coolest teacher in the whole wide world. Nobody stands a chance against this guy. So…. back to what I was saying… my kids (and everyone else’s) are in band.
So, last week I went to the band concert. They call it a “gig” which, to me, is more like a cool dude with a guitar in a coffee shop, but I’ll go with it for now. So, I went to the band gig. Izzy was playing in the 6th grade band (trumpet) and Jade was playing in the 8th grade band (clarinet). I left the two littlies at home with Dave, but took Lily (who plans on joining next year and playing the flute) with me.
We arrive at the junior high, head to the gym, and climb to the top of the bleachers. We cuddle in with a bunch of peeps from the hood (I know that I live in a suburb, but every so often I like to speak the speak, ya know?) I end up sitting next to Lily and 3 of her buddies from 4th grade. Which is possibly THE MOST embarrassing thing that has ever happened to Lily. I mean… can you even stand it? Her Aunt sat NEXT to her in public?
But back to me…
As I am sitting there listening to “Go Tell Aunt Rhodie” and “Old MacDondald Had a Farm” for the third year in a row, the numbers started to calculate in my head. And then I realized that because of the way my kids were spaced out, I had 15 MORE YEARS of band concerts in front of me. Oh yes… 15 more years. Then the images began to flash.
The people around me would change, but I would be the one constant at all the concerts for the next 15 years. There was like this time-lapse photography thing going on in my head of me sitting in the same place on the bleachers while the people around me changed – most of whom will be younger than me. I would keep getting older and my eyes would glaze over just a bit more each year. The rest of the parents would come and go and I would still be there… in 15 years.
15
I wonder if I will be wearing the same jeans and Old Navy t-shirt, with my hair up in a pony tail. Will they refer to me as “that old crazy woman with all the band kids.” Will my husband continue to run marathons, but me… my braggin’ rights will be endless band concerts on rock hard bleachers listening to wobbly renditions of “Aura Lee.”
But I guess this is what I signed up for. I look across the gym and see Izzy waving at me from opposite bleachers where the 6th graders are waiting to perform. I wave back with a big smile and lots of kiss-blowing. I swell with joy as I watch a collection of little girls that Izzy met in 3rd grade who are now not-so-little perform flute solos, flute duets and trios, and a saxophone solo. These beautiful girls whose mothers I love and who were Izzy’s very first friends. I couldn’t help but bob my head a bit as they played. When they finished, they bend their heads to receive medals for their bravery and I snap pictures because they are soooo brave. So beautiful. I see Jade hanging out with her friends that she met in band — good, no, great kids who love music and Jesus and each other. I see the cute boy that knocked on our door to pick Jade up for youth group perform in a trombone trio and although I know Jade and he are just friends (really), I am glad that she knows him and that there are boys of his caliber in her life. And when the 8th grade band performs a overture from “The Music Man”, they are actually good. And fun to listen to. And I was proud of them all.
So, after the concert I went down to take the required pictures, which I now realize will be in every family photo album for the next (wait for it) 15 years.
My Band Kids
Which is very, very cool.
In addition to teaching high school science, my husband coaches competitive year-round swimming.
This past weekend, Dave was at a swim meet all weekend long. One of the major drawbacks to the teacher-coaching gig, is that 1 to 2 times per month, Dave is gone for huge lengths of time at a swim meet. Like 10-12 hours per day. It is a drain on me at home. After going all week being “on” with the kids, it is absolutely brutal to go all weekend with no husband, only to face another week.
During the swim meet three weeks ago, I finally hit the wall at 3pm on Sunday. Every time I walked out of the room – -even to pee — I burst into tears. My texts to him started to take on a fatalist tone, “Someone is not going to make it if you do not get home soon!” “Did you get my last text?” “H.E.L.P.!“ Finally, I made that desperate wife phone call that I am pretty sure we all have made at least once and begged him to come home and, luckily, he was able to duck out an hour early. An hour that certainly saved my life and maybe even the life of a child or two.
So, prior to this meet, I tried to be a bit more proactive. My first approach was to call Grandma Bloo and get her over here! Then we made plans. To LEAVE the house. For a hermit-turned-recluse like me, it was a big moment. To consider taking all 5 kids out to lunch and… TO THE PARK… well, lets just say, the excitement was darn near brain-shattering. And clearly I would not try this alone. But, with Grandma in tow, I thought I had a fighting chance. Plus, she was buying.
When the sun comes out in the Seattle area it matters little what the actual TEMPERATURE is. The thermometer can read 33 degrees, but if it is SUNNY we walk outside with sunglasses and coats slung over our arms. I have seen bikinis in 50-degree weather because of the brilliant sun (I do not don a bikini even in 90 degree weather, FYI). And when the actual temperature climbs past the magical marker of 60 degrees, the whole city goes WILD.
Saturday was one of those days.
First stop: KIDD VALLEY for some perfect hamburgers.
If you have never had a KIDD VALLEY hamburger, get thee to an airport and fly thee to Seattle. It is worth it. Warning, you will have to set your feminist sensibilites aside.
Never been a big fan of putting a scantily clad girl atop a piece of meat…. but, when said piece of meat is a KIDD VALLEY hamburger. I am willing to overlook it. So are my kids. In fact, I just might put one of my kids on top of that hamburger if it meant getting one for free (that’s a free hamburger, not a free kid… which doesn’t exist).
Lily eating delicious hamburger!
Of course we brought kid #5 along and she got to eat her very first french fry… ah, she makes me so proud.
Emme and her First French Fry
Second Stop: Houghton Beach Park
Is this just not the MOST glorious place to put a park!?!??! That’s Lake Washington in the background. Oh, and ya see those big heavy winter coats that Izzy and Lily are wearing? … yeah, those are about to come off… in a hurry!
Kids at Houghton
Lily and Ty at Houghton
I think I am a Pacific Northwest SNOB, because this is the best place to live…ever… I think I am gonna have to buy Lily some new jeans,though,… her legs are getting so dang long!
Walking along the dock
Even Emme got in on the action and had fun people watching from the safety of her stroller.
Emme People Watching
All in all, a DARN good day. Way better than crying in the bathroom and praying that your husband will come home an hour early.
And, in true northwest style, the rain was back on Sunday. And then Grandma Bloo went back home. And Emme didn’t nap. And with two hours to go until hubbie came home, I started counting the seconds. And pricing pizza for dinner.
The next swim meet? In three weeks.
February is DENTAL HEALTH month. Seriously? If you were born with teeth like my husband (aka PERFECT) you would probably love a month like this. You could go around smiling your freakin perfect-never-had-braces smile and shrug and say, “I love Dental Health!”. But if I had known February was dental health month, Iwould have postponed my wedding (yes, we were married in February).
Okay, so I have dentist issues.
When I was growing up our dentist was an old man with age spots on his hand and thick glasses. I’ll stop there. That’s enough, isn’t it? Do I need to say more? And I had to visit the dentist all the time. My teeth have major problems — like “go on Dr. Phil” major problems.
My kids currently see a fabulous dentist (although not without horrifying moments, we’ll get to that in a minute). Going to see her is like a trip to Disneyland — there are lights, tvs, prizes, and a NICE, young, exotic, beautiful dentist who gets kids. This place is so fantastic, so awe-inspiring, that Lily (10) wants to grow up and BECOME A DENTIST? What? I am all for encouraging the dreams of the young, but a dentist? All I can think about is that elf on “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer” who chants “I vant to be a dentist...” and is then fired for being a bad elf. I am with Santa on this one.
On a recent trip to the dentist for Ty (4) all my fears were confirmed. The horror started the MOMENT the hygiensist found out that we let Ty brush and floss ALL BY HIMSELF… as if we also gave him weapons and the keys to the car, “Go on honey, have a great day at pre-school. Don’t forget your machete!” Whatever. If you know Ty, he is a bit like me… he likes to do things HIS way and so, since I have clear dental issues, I let him brush and floss all by himself.
Ty Brushing His Teeth -- All By Himself!
Well…. out came the BOOK. This book was full of pictures of what will happen to your teeth if you do not let your mother or father brush them for you. This book was better suited for pay-per-view, because seriously, I almost called my mom and told her she needed to start brushing my teeth for me. It was picture after picture of mangled, twisted, rotting teeth. I don’t think there was a white tooth on a single page. My eyes bugged out. Ty’s eyes squinted in disbelief.
It didn’t stop there. Then out came the REWARD CHART that I was going to provide (I am??? No one warned me?!?!?!) when Ty let me brush his teeth for him. Apparently, I was going to give him a reward like a book or a special toy (it was all I could do at this point not to say, “You mean, like CANDY?” ) when he completed the chart. Then… then… I caught this woman making notes on the chart that said something akin to “Mother actually lets him brush his own teeth, can you believe it? I mean, can you??” Now MY eyes squinted in disbelief. Does this woman not know how much guilt I already carry around with me about…. oh, I don’t know…EVERYTHING?!?
Besides, aren’t all these teeth just gonna fall out anyway?
Okay, OKAY… I get it. Clearly something needs to change. I will try to be a well-adjusted mother and attend to my child’s dental needs. So, in celebration of the much-anticipated-around-the-nation DENTAL HEALTH MONTH, I am going to start brushing Ty’s teeth for him. I can just hear that hygienist sighing in gloating satisfaction, while patting her “book” and special reward chart…. whatever…. Just someone warn me WAY in advanced when it is the official POKE YOURSELF IN THE EYE month… because that is MUCH better than Dental Health Month. Much.
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