South Or Bust

Wohoo!! It’s been an incredibly freeing week for me!
1.)I drop-kicked some relational baggage across the state with a big, “Lata Gata!” and it felt dang good.
2.)I got a pedicure while sitting a Shiatsu chair that massaged my muscles to jelly.
3.) I had my fingernails painted a bright bubblegum pink instead of my traditional French; and I am so completely secure in my middle-aged married-ness that I can wear “Hooker” nails and have no anxiety that I’ll be mistaken for one.
4.)I got my teeth cleaned by the nice hygienist (as opposed to the mean hygienist who attacks my gums with the zest of a bloody-thirsty Ax Murderer and then criticizes me for brushing too hard) and I had no cavities!

Yes, the week’s been incredible as far as weeks go. And it will get even better tomorrow because………WE ARE GOING ON VACATION!! (Doing a Victory Dance)

Tomorrow we leave at dawn for an island in the south of this country where we will relax for …..(drum roll please)…..TWO WEEKS! And it’s because I have the most wonderful husband in the world who bought me an extra week’s vacation as a “Graduating From Teaching Homeschool Forever” present.

We are driving the 18 hour trip in two days. Little Squirt will celebrate his 6th Birthday tomorrow, stuck in the backseat of the minivan, poor baby. But we have a birthday gift an hour to present to him, which will make the drive more celebratory.

The Teens are sulking. You’d think I’d just signed them up for Boot Camp from the way they have been whining about being gone for two weeks! To a tropical island. With beautiful beaches. And did I mention the pools at our villa? And tennis courts. And luscious dining. I don’t get it! What’s not to be ecstatic about?? I, too, have friends that I will miss, but, much as I love them, I will not forfeit a vacation! I will just write them a witty postcard from the beach while drinking a mai tai. And sporting a drop-dead tan.

Oh vacation! I love you!!

I will attempt to blog on location, if I we have internet access from our villa. (And if I’m not too exhausted from my daily napping on the beach. And dolphin-watching. And reading one of the 11 library books I’ve packed.) So hopefully, if the stars align in the sky as they should, I will blog again soon from The Tropics! And if I cannot, please visit me again in two weeks. I will miss you. (Sniff.)

Bon Voyaging now. Peace out!

Van Gogh-ing

As most parents will attest as being typical, our children have had a favorite parent at different stages of their development. Butterfly loved her father more than me at the beginning of her life, with her first smile given to him. I became the outstanding favorite by age 6 months, which lasted until preschool, when she again had eyes only for Super Hubs. Now she plays us back and forth like a fiddle, depending upon who has likeliest propensity to fund her wardrobe wants.

Rock Star showed no favoritism until age one, when he preferred his daddy until age two. Then he became partial to me, which lasted…forever. Butterfly still calls him a “Mama’s Boy,” which I don’t see as a bad thing. I rather like it, for as long as it lasts. I suspect that one of these days he’ll push me away into the Motherhood Abyss, where I’ll hang with the other moms of adolescent boys. But for now, I’m content being in his good graces.

Little Squirt, however, has had a favorite parent since Day One. It’s his daddy. To Little Squirt, his father is his Hero. His Knight in Shining Armor. The Sun around which he orbits. If I were to disappear, Little Squirt, standing in the glow of his father’s wonderfulness, probably wouldn’t notice for a couple of days.

Today Little Squirt designed a work of art, using markers in all colors of the rainbow. I recognized his typical idyllic scene of a house on a lawn of flowers and green grass (clearly neatly mowed and well hydrated). A yellow sun reigned over blue sky, with birds flying in abundance. It was a setting in which dreams were made; Disney-like in its appearance. I could almost hear Snow White whistling. And looking through the windows of the house were two stick figures.

He proudly showed me his masterpiece of art. In answer to my question, he said the two people in the picture were himself and his father. “And where are the mommy and the brother and the sister?” I asked. He paused for a second in thought, then responded, “They’re dead.”

Ouch. I’ve been erased off the planet by the whimsy of a 5-year-old’s wistful fantasy! Even after I just purchased that pair of blue Crocs he’d been wanting.

Showing Hospitality

I’ve been quiet on Blogosphere over the past few days because I’ve been busy fraternizing. And being a Social Butterfly takes up time. I've been flitting all about looking for the next party, and if I cannot find one, I make my own.

Summer Break does that to me. It brings out my inner extrovert. (Not that it needs much coaxing. Or is even inner, for that matter. My extrovert is pretty much always out there and sayin’, “Let’s partee!”) But (continuing the Butterfly Metaphor) the winter months make me cocoon a bit. I stay home more, read books, and sit by the fire. I cozy up. And when the weather breaks, I am ready to stretch my wings and fly to the nearest BBQ. Or invite the neighbors for cocktails on our back deck. Or flag down strangers at the intersection if I have nobody else to play with. I make The Introverted Super Hubs crazy.

Saturday night we drove up to Wisconsin have dinner with my BFFs and their husbands. Much Merry-Making was had by all. And yesterday, we had some Chicago friends visit; spending a few hours at the beach in town, and then sharing dinner. One of their girls will likely be my future daughter-in-law from the way she and Little Squirt were making eyes on each other. They even watched a movie on the couch, completely entwined. Today, Little Squirt is all, “Can I go visit Maggie at her house??” He doesn’t quite care that it would take a big expressway and the better part of an hour to get there.

Tonight we are entertaining more friends again. So I must go now! I have to make a drink run. And prepare some Sausage Penne. Oooooh I absolutely LOVE having company! The menu-planning, table-setting, the conversations. It's all such fun! So, that being said, don’t be shy! Give me a call and we’ll plan an evening to get together this summer. I still have a few empty dates on our calendar that Super Hubs believes are fine left blank but I don’t concur. They must be filled with friends. Or I'll be forced to flag down strangers. I'm tellin' you....

Head-thumping

Although I am becoming phenomenally proficient at Animal Clairvoyance in preparation for my new-found career as a Pet Psychic, I have discovered that I am extremely deficient in getting inside my children’s heads.
Two cases in point:

1.) Butterfly was aghast that I wouldn't let her drive the Toyota to her social event tonight. Super Hubs and I preferred to take the Toyota on our Date (It’s newer, better on gas mileage, and, let’s face it, way hotter), but offered the mini-van to Buttefly. She refused it. So, thinking I was being generously flexible, I volunteered to chauffeur her to her friend’s home. She gave me a look not unlike the horror-filled countenance she wore when she discovered, at age 7, how babies were conceived. “OMG! Are you kidding me?? No seniors ever get driven by their parents!! What do you think I am; a Freshman??” (Said with scorn.)
So, given her choices were,
A.) Stay home,
B.) Drive the minivan,
C.) Find a ride;
she promptly found a ride.
Just yesterday, Butterfly thought I was cool enough to exist while stuffing her wallet with allowance money. Tonight she fancies herself an orphan, needing to sponge rides off unsuspecting friends. Who knew??

2.) Little Squirt joined us at Buffalo Wild Wings for dinner this evening. He spent the night staring googly-eyed at the blonde preschooler sitting at the neighboring table, his mini-corn dogs and smiley-face fries going cold on his plate. At one point, he turned to me and whispered, “Mommy, I can’t get that girl off my mind.” Then, thinking I didn’t take his statement seriously enough, he whispered, more ferociously, “I mean it, Momma! I can’t get her off my mind!” So either he’s a budding pop songwriter, or my little boy thinks she’s The Bomb.
Just yesterday Little Squirt discovered that there are two genders in humankind. And tonight, he’s in love. Who knew again??

I am finding the mind of a Rottweiler much less complex. I think it's a wise career choice, veritably.

Pet Smart

After several days of brainstorming future career possibilities, I have come to a decision on what I would like to do with the rest of my life. I am going to be a Pet Psychic. Now hear me out.

Super Hubs and I had dinner with my Drama Team last night, and one of the actors had us in hysterics over this story. A few months ago, he had given his hyper, out-of-control Golden Retriever, Gracie, to another family that has a large property and a Labrador. And my friend had recently called to check on the Golden, see how she was adjusting to her new home, and asked if he could come and visit. And the new owner told him that she had taken Gracie to a “Pet Communicator” who said that Gracie said she was not yet ready for a visit with her old family, because it was too confusing for her during this transitional season. And to begin her life afresh, she had chosen to change her name to Daisy May. (You read that right.) The dog changed her own name. To Daisy May. According to this Pet Communicator. (I am not making this up.)

Oooookaaaay. (At the risk of offending all the Pet Psychics who read my blog) WHAT A SCAM!! But, good for these opportunists who capitalize on the innocence of people who simply long for insight into the relentless barking of Fido. Or who want to better understand why Fluffy has been peeing on their Manolo Blahniks. Or better yet…….how Spot is faring since he’s “crossed over.” Yes, these Pet Psychics even claim to communicate with dead mammals! WHAT a racket!!

So I will wear a large purple caftan with a big crystal around my neck, and call myself “Sister Moonbeam, Animal Communicator.” And then I’ll charge $100 per 30 minute phone consultation. More if the pet is alive and well and on my premises. And much more if I have to decode a message from The Great Beyond. And, in no time at all, I’ll be flush. Perhaps I can buy that yacht I’ve been longing for.

I don’t believe it will be difficult to feign I mean telepathically understand what a pet is trying to communicate. In fact, I’ll start right now! I’ll read my cat, Peppermint, through Thought Transference. Hark- I can hear his very cognition! He’s saying, “Get out of my face with that damn camera, and let me continue my career of slothing.” See how easy that was for me??

I believe I will have a very lucrative business! Please remember to refer me to the Easily Exploitable.
Sister Moonbeam, A.C.

"Retirement" Day One

MORNING: Slept in. Didn’t get my @$$$ out of bed until 6:12am, which was far later than Little Squirt’s usual 5:52am wakeup call. (He was clearly respectful of my first day of Retirement.) Checked email (spam), and then enjoyed a leisurely cup of coffee with the daily paper. Checked my email again (more spam), and then sent a few text messages to my friends with crucially important questions, such as, “Waz up?” Did a 30-minute power walk and made nice with a new neighbor that I think was frightened by my power walking ensemble and lack of makeup. Took a luxurious shower with some new gel. It was all too exciting! Shaved……never mind. (Too much info.)

AFTERNOON: Checked my email again. (More spam.) Sent a few more texts. Attempted to weed my front-walk garden….lasted for 12 minutes until I was bored with ……the weeds. And the dirt. And freaked by the bugs. (I hate bugs.) Checked my email. (Nothing but Flylady reminders. Good Lord, where are all my friends??) Checked my cell phone- no messages. (Sigh.) Finished a book and began a new book. Accidentally dozed on the couch for 42 minutes which is technically not a nap because I did not intend to nap. Checked my email again. (2 from friends! Wahoo!) Watched Dr.Phil and cringed for the clueless toxic family portrayed. (What do people NOT GET about, “This will be shown on National TV??”)

EVENING: Made ziti with Bolognese. Cast a Drama and made phone calls to Drama Cast. Ate dinner with family. Hung with Butterfly and girlfriend, until Butterfly politely asked me to scram. Received 2 text messages. (Yipee!) Checked email. (More Flylady and spam. Sigh.) Blogged.

You still reading ?? Ho hum. Clearly I must seek employment!

Final Chapter

Tomorrow I begin retirement, of sorts. I have homeschooled my children for 7 years, and I am now officially finished. In a blink of an eye, it’s done. Kaput. Finito.

So I will put the school bell away on the shelf, take off my spectacles and turn out the light in the classroom for the last time. (I don’t actually use a bell. Or spectacles for my 20/20 vision. Or a classroom, for that matter. I was just speaking metaphorically.) It’s the end of an era in our home.

Rock Star will be entering high school in the fall with Butterfly; his first year and her fourth. And Little Squirt will start kindergarten in an excellent public school system. And it’ll be good for his extroverted, outgoing nature. He needs more socially than what I provide for him at home. I am not the Energizer Bunny, for Pete’s sake! Super Hubs and I have processed-schmocessed this at length and know it’s the right thing to do. So why do I feel like he’s just enlisted?? (Sniff.)

My emotions are running the bi-polar gamete from sorrow to joy. In boxing up a ton of curriculum, I can reclaim my bookshelf space, get rid of some clutter and organize the basement. And I’ll gain about 4 hours in personal time that I can utilize for some humanitarian good. Or maybe for napping.

Good-bye, Math. I will not miss you a bit. You've frustrated us to no end.
Au Revoir, Literature. I have thoroughly enjoyed our adventures!
Science, we’ve had a rocky romance. I’ll remember you with…fickleness.
And to the other subjects- Thanks for the memories. They are rich.

Now I can regress back to dumbness. I don’t have to have all the answers and all the responsibilities of educating my children.
Wohoo!!