MIA On A Friday Night

Panic ensued in the middle seat of our minivan on Friday night. I turned and faced Little Squirt. He was furiously digging through his Spiderman wallet, and then turning it upside down and giving it a shake. “I can’t find the Toys R Us card!” he wailed. My heart sank.

Earlier in the day, a late birthday card had arrived from Aunt Liz and Uncle Nick, enclosed with a $30 gift card to his favorite store. Little Squirt was thrilled to the gills and wanted me to take to him to Toys R Us that very minute to shop. I had pressing things to do that didn’t include browsing a toy store. So I gave him a couple of options: We could skip his Vacation Bible School picnic that evening, in lieu of a pizza dinner and shopping with his gift card. Or we could shop sometime over the weekend.

It took Little Squirt two seconds to decide that he preferred a pizza dinner and Toys R Us shopping spree that evening. He waved his gift card high in the air. “I’m gonna buy a snorkel and flippers for the beach!” he said excitedly. Knowing his propensity to lose everything in his possession, I offered to hold his gift card for safekeeping. But he declined, begging me to be allowed to keep the gift card in his Spiderman wallet like a big boy. At least, though, I talked him into letting me keep the wallet in my purse so nothing would get lost. He wriggled with excited anticipation through the rest of the day.

A few hours later, he, Super Hubs and I shared a thin-crust sausage at our favorite pizza joint, and then Little Squirt dug around in my purse and pulled out his wallet. He removed some of his birthday cash and played with it for a bit. Then, wallet in hand, he followed us to the car, and we headed to Toys R Us.

That is when the gift card became MIA. I, too, turned the Spiderman wallet inside out, searching its every little pocket. Then I searched through my purse, hoping it had just fallen out of wallet in there, and landed on a soft Vera Bradley cushion. We looked all over the car. We called the restaurant to see if the gift card had been found on their floor. But it was undoubtedly gone.

Little Squirt’s eyes welled up with tears, and his voice shook with disappointment. “It’s lost! I can’t believe I lost my special gift card!” My felt awful for him. I am chronically only as good as my saddest kid, and my little guy was so very sad. “Now I can’t buy a new snorkel!” he cried.

Super Hubs had been quiet throughout the drama, and I was wondering what he was thinking. Was he annoyed that we had scheduled our precious Friday evening plans around spending a now defunct gift card? Would he lecture his little boy on the virtues of responsibility?

My husband made me proud. He chose to lavish his child with love and grace. “Little Squirt,” my husband said. “Forget about the gift card. I’m going to give you $30. And we are going to Toys R Us. You can spend the money however you want.”

My little boy sat up straighter in the car with a huge grin. “Thanks, Dad!” he said with joy. We arrived back home one hour, one snorkel, and two flippers later.

Sometimes daddies just love to give. My God is like that, too. Sometimes He showers me with good things, even when I'm not deserving of them.

Revealing

I picked up my new eyeglasses yesterday, and I feel like a new version of myself entirely when I wear them. I morph from Silly Ol’ Me to Sophisticated TV Reporter with a snap of a eyeglass case. They just may be Magic Specs!

I attended my monthly Book Club meeting last night, where we dined on Chinese food and discussed a Pearl S. Buck novel. I wasn’t my intelligent best as I consumed beef satay and egg drop soup. I confused Japanese facts with Chinese, and substituted character’s names with my favorite desserts. I had nothing clever to contribute until I put on my glasses, and my IQ seemed to sneak up 20 points. It really was remarkable! Just ask my Book Club friends.

And aside from the clarity of mind that my new specs seem to bring, I can see distance objects with more precision and focus. I hadn’t realized I was seeing blurry until my Magic Specs showed me the improvement. What I thought proudly was a UFO Landing Pad on our front lawn is apparently just a Big Lawn Bald Spot from frequent kid football games. Dang! I was looking forward to a book deal.

Here’s a little irony: I am doing a Beth Moore Bible study with some awesome ladies. And we are studying Revelations. This week we pondered, “What is God revealing to me in my life?” This study lines up with a God Hunt I’ve been on for a while. I look around, wonder, and journal: Where is God working in my life? What is making me feel the most alive? Through which relationships and experiences am I sensing His love?

The more that I ponder and wonder and invite God in to my questionings, the better my life vision is becoming, and I am knowing what to move toward. Relationships are right-sized, and blurry situations are fine-tuned into perfect focus. My discernment is increasing abundantly.

I am in a season of letting go. Letting go of some things in my life that aren’t serving me well anymore. And, on the flip side, embracing the activities and relationships that have my best interests at heart, feel life-giving, and bring me joy. It’s finding God in my God Hunt. Or seeing life with my Magic Specs.

"Vision: The art of seeing the invisible." (Jonathan Swift)
I believe it just takes lots of practice.

Finally Seeing Straight

My poor mother is has been blind as a bat since grade school, wearing thick corrective lenses. So I blessedly won the genetic lottery by inheriting my father’s eyes. Same blue-gray color, same superhero Spidey vision. I’m in my 40s and have never needed glasses. But I had noticed, for the past few years, some vision changes and my compensations related to them: Squinting to read in dim light. Avoiding paperbacks with small print. Straining to see long-distance. Noticing less wrinkles than I actually have. (Or is that called denial?)

But, being a Master Procrastinator, I avoided getting my eyes checked. I pridefully wanted to see how old I could possibly get before I needed correction. Could I make it to 85? 90? If there was a Guinness Book World Record, I wanted to beat it!

But yesterday, after insisting that we have good vision coverage and should use it, Super Hubs dragged me in to see our family opthamologist. I’ve taken my kids to see him many times, but I’ve never personally been the victim of the scary gizmos and eye drops, so I was a tad apprehensive. But our kind doctor put me at ease as he gently had me look through a series of lenses, read letters on a wall, and then scanned my eyeballs to make certain I was really human and not a lizard. (I think. I watch “V.”) Then he sat back, declared my eyes healthy, but said that yes, I could use some correction and wear glasses as needed for distance and reading. Then he showed me shelf upon shelf of frames to choose from. Awesome. Shopping!

I tried on The Cool, The Scholarly, and The Marmish. The Weird, The Weirder and The So Not Me. Butterfly ultimately helped me land on a pair of fun, square magenta frames that I think are so very Moi. They are adorable, and I just may wear them more than I actually need to.

Now I’ll have glasses like most everybody I know. I am somewhat reluctantly joining the very large club of Citizens With Not Perfect Eyesight. But it makes me feel like a grownup.

Little Boy Love

Little Squirt turned 8 over the weekend, which created a large amount of carousing and glee. He’s been counting the days since May, honest to goodness, and could hardly contain his excitement that the Birthday Weekend Spectacular had finally arrived. His peer party was held at Chuck E. Cheese’s, just as it was last year. When given a list of party venue options, he said with conviction, “Chuck E. Cheese again, Mom. Duh!” If it was worked last year, surely it’ll work this year, right? Logic. So Chuck E. Cheese’s it was, which Super Hubs, as a former Catholic, swears is one of the nastier levels of Purgatory. But Little Squirt had fun, and we survived.

On Sunday, the actual really real birthday, my 8yo sang with our church’s Children’s Vocal Team for all three services, and then toasted the finale by sharing cupcakes with his vocal teammates. Then it was on to a family birthday celebration with the grandparents, who brought the piece de resistance of the gifts; a brand new big boy bike. Eyes shining, he road the two-wheeler down the sidewalk past three houses, got a little nervous in the rain, then turned around and walked it back. “It’s great!” he said. “But I’m going to rest now.” New Bike Jitters.

My baby turned 8. (Big sniff.) How did that happen so fast? This child was supposed to take his time with the growing, and allow me to savor each little milestone. He, my sweet daily-joy-bringer, calls me his “Best Friend” and says he will live with me forever. I know better, but I’m soaking up the love while I can.

Karate Kelly

I went out to meet some peeps at one of my favorite pizzerias last night for a Breast Cancer Fundraiser. We talked and laughed, and it was so good to get out and get me some Girlfriend Time. After we finished eating, my friends wanted to go sit at the bar and listen to their friend’s band which was beginning to set up. I was feeling really tired and decided to head home.

I hadn’t been able to find parking close to the restaurant, and so my car was several blocks around the corner and down the road in our little city’s downtown area. It was 9ish, and getting dark. The street was mostly deserted, except for a few unsavory-looking characters that hung back in the shadows. An overactive imagination is one of the many curses of my right-brained inclination, and as my ballet flats click-clacked down the sidewalk, my mind concocted all sorts of horrifying scenarios that had to do with my vulnerability and certain death. It didn’t help that I feed myself a steady diet of CSI Miami and Criminal Minds.

I began to hear footsteps that synchronized with mine. I slowed, The Monster slowed. I sped up, and so did he. I did a 360 spina-round, but couldn’t see anyone following me. Still, I didn’t think a perpetrator would deliberately make himself visible. Assuming that a swift kick to the shins would be pretty laughable to him with my ballet flats, I fished around in my purse to feel for a “weapon.” What would be appropriate and deadly? Should I squirt him in the eye with my teeny bottle of my Coco Chanel? Repulse him with a swat by a used kleenex? Throw breath mints, aiming hard for his groin? Ugh. I was completely defenseless!!

Finally seeing my car, I hurried in and took a deep breath. Whew. Crisis averted.

Today I saw Kung Fu Panda with Little Squirt at the local movie theater that shows freebie summer movies. And it got me thinking about Kung Fu Kelly, who’d be able to fight off perps with a swift chop to the kyusho point. Or at least know some basic self-defense moves. So I’m going to investigate taking a class or something.

Criminals- BEWARE!

Sing it with me!
“Everybody is Kung Fu Fighting...ooh ah
Your mind becomes fast as lightning...ooh ah
Although the future is a little bit fright'ning....ooh ah
It's the book of your life that you're writing. “

Oh, These Splendid Months

Summer break! My favorite time of the year! (Cue brain to evoke images of homemade popsicles, beach chairs and family drive-in movies.)

In reality, sometimes our summer breaks past have looked more like this: Air conditoning breakage, sibling squabbles and a kitchen ant infestation.

But so far we are off to a good start. Butterfly’s been home from college for a month, and I have thoroughly enjoyed our girl time. Rock Star took his last final on Tuesday, finishing his sophomore year well, I say with pride. And Little Squirt is now a graduate of first grade, a thought that made him weepy until I reminded him that he will have his same wonderful teacher for second grade. Then we went to Sonic for lunch where he at his favorite mozarrela sticks and rootbeer, to celebrate a year done well.

Ahhh summer. Soaking Up My Kids Time. A more peaceful, Zen-like existence. I love it. Freebie movies, library reading programs, travels in the minivan to the beach, mosquito bites, sticky watermelon fingers; bring it on. I am sooo ready.

Dreaming. Patio Furniture Style

We spent the majority of Memorial Day roaming stores all over town in search of new patio furniture. And, thankfully, we had success! I, for one, was thrilled. As Super Hubs and I de-bubblewrapped the chairs, my industrious teens put the table together in about 30 minutes, which I then crowned with my big bowl of growing herbs. Team work.


Our New Patio Furniture Visions:
Me: Cozy family meals al fresco, and stolen date nights of wine under the stars.
The Teens: None. They have no New Patio Furniture Visions.
Super Hubs: A ginormous credit card bill and ghastly mosquito assaults.
Little Squirt: A ginormous cardboard box house, complete with sleeping bag carpet.

We’ll see.