Where has the summer gone?

It's that time again. I know I'm supposed to be excited for my kids to be going back to school, but it's just so much work! Shopping for schools supplies, new clothes, making lunches, waking up early...It almost doesn't seem worth all the effort it takes to get them up, ready and out the door.

I mean, my kids sleep in until almost noon---I hardly know they are home! With school starting back up, I'll have homework to help them with, lessons to drive them to, field trips and parties to volunteer for. I'm exhausted just thinking about all the work it takes having my kids back in school. I cringe remembering the endless fundraising opportunities that I will be able to participate in.

So, it is with a heavy heart, that I help my children lay out their first day of school outfits. Make sure to set the alarm clock an extra fifteen minutes earlier than usual so we can get plenty of back to school pictures and repeat over and over again to myself that my kids will only be young once and I need to enjoy this wonderful time in my life.

Does this skirt make me look fat?

"Anyone want to go to the fabric store?" my husband asked at dinner one night. Okay, I thought, this ought to be interesting...

We picked out a roll of black fabric and took it to the counter to have it cut. "This is a lot of material," the lady told us, "what are you making?"

"Not me," I pointed to my husband, "he is making a skirt." "That is A LOT of material for a skirt." She told us. "It will be a very LARGE skirt," she continued, dying to know the details.

"It's not for me," my husband finally told her..."It's for my son." He was loving this. The lady turned a bit pale and mumbled, "He must be a big boy..."

Finally, I decided to put her out of her misery and explained that it was a skirt to go around a platform for our son's drum-set. She was very relieved. "How are you going to attach the skirt?" she wanted to know. I stepped back and let them discuss the pros and cons of the various options, tuning them out.

So, we went home wondering whether we could talk our daughter into getting started sewing on her brother's skirt that night...

The three stages of no...

My friend Sandy was telling me how frustrated her sister-in-law was---her kids had talked her into having rabbits. "Anyone who knows the three stages of no and can tell them to their kids, would not find themselves in that situation." Sandy was telling me---this is one of the reasons I love Sandy. We grew up in Nebraska together and only get to see each other once a year. "You do know the three stages of no, don't you?" Sandy asked me.

"No; No Way; and Heck No!" she explained, "And anyone who can't say this to their children, deserves to have rabbits." I thought about everyone I knew with rabbits and had to agree with her. (If you are one of those people, I'm sorry---but it's the truth.)

But then she had to admit, "I have a bigger problem saying no to my husband." I had to smile with that one. "That is why you have children." I told her before we both started laughing. So true.

A rose by any other name...

I went hiking with my friend Sandy yesterday. Her daughter Lizzie was wearing "flip-flops" for the hike. When I grew up we didn't call them "flip-flops." To the great disappointment and embarrassment of my children, I can never remember to call them that.

"Hey Lizzie, don't you hate it when you get blisters from wearing your thongs?" I asked her. Everyone looked at me strangely, except Sandy, of course. She grew up with me, she knew what I was talking about, she called them the same thing.

"Yah, Lizzie, you can tell everyone your thong rubbed you the wrong way on your hike." Sandy joined in. It was too easy. And we weren't even trying...

I was in Walmart the other day with my kids. I yelled out, "Run and pick out some new thongs---yours are all so nasty." I turned around and my kids were gone, they had vanished. At that point, I couldn't figure out why. Then I heard the guys next to me laughing. "Oh," I thought. But instead of getting annoyed at the perverted guys next to me, I decided to go with embarrassing my kids---intentional or not, it was always fun. "There are some cute green and yellow thongs over here, pick out what you want and find me in the food aisle." I knew they were hiding close enough to still hear me so I walked away.

It really wasn't my fault. Surely someone was creative to give underwear it's own name without having to steal the name from footwear, right? And if not, why couldn't they use one from shoes, I don't wear? For example, Penny Loafers or Mary Janes---I don't wear either of those. So, Mary Janes can be the new Thongs. Confusing? My point exactly. You can hardly blame me for not remembering to call "flip flops" by the right name. But really, I shouldn't bother to try to change the name, it is way too fun to embarrass my kids...

How I've Failed my Children---Let me count the ways

My daughter cornered me in the kitchen one day. "Did you know that worms are both male and female?" she asked. "Yes," I told her---I remember reading that somewhere.

"WHAT! And you never told me!" she asked very upset. Hum, I thought about all the things I tried to remember to tell my kids over the years (wipe then flush; don't put the empty milk carton back in the fridge; deodorant is your friend; if it came out of your nose don't eat it) no, I guess I never did tell her about the worms.

"But you figured it out on your own," I tried to console her. "I wasted the past hour looking at this worm trying to figure out whether it was a girl or boy so I would know what to name it." She complained holding up a jar with the worm inside for me to see. She continued: "But did you know that worms have five hearts and they absorb oxygen through their skin and that when they go to the bathroom it is called..."she paused.

"Dirt?" I offered. "NO! It starts with a "C" I think," she said still thinking. "Crud?" I supplied? "NO!" and off she went, most likely to the computer to look up more fascinating facts on worms and to find the technical name for worm poop. I, on the other hand, stood in the kitchen and wondered what other important things I knew, but had forgotten to tell my kids...

Reality, anyone?

I dropped my kids off at band camp, and decided to run in the park for a change of scenery. It was a bit crowded for my taste and I ended up picking up my pace so I wouldn't look too sluggish.

When the first crowd of joggers passed me, saying hello, I realized that I had a couple of problems. My first problem was that I was using all my oxygen just to breathe and had none left for casual banter with other joggers. I grunted in reply, hoping it wouldn't sound too rude.

This left with me with my second, larger problem. I was no longer invisible. Apparently, something had happened to my invisibility shield and other people could now see me.

I know, before you think I am completely crazy. No, I don't really think I am invisible. It's just something I tell myself that allows me to sweat, breathe loudly, and shuffle awkwardly, outside in public. Okay, when I say that out loud, it does sound a little crazy. But when I tell this to myself in my head it sounds better.

So, anyway. Last night, my husband and I were walking around the neighborhood. One of my friends called out to us, "I saw you running in the park this morning," she said, "and you didn't say hi."

Not knowing what else to say, I told her the truth. "I didn't think you could see me since I was wearing my invisibility shield."

She laughed, and I laughed along with her since I didn't want her to think I was crazy or anything...

Life is like that sometimes...

Something happened to me this summer. I woke up one morning with an ache in my legs that to my dismay, I found only running could alleviate. Sometimes I get up as early as 5am to hit the pavement and run. I have been running for a long time. But don't let me kid you. Please, consider me a "runner" using only the loosest terms possible.

I run during the school year with a dedicated friend. She never misses a day. I, on the other hand make it 2-3 days a week. The other days, I wake up early to think up excuses of why I won't be able to go running that day. I wonder if I can manage a fall down the stairs---I don't want to break anything, just a good sprain---something to get me off the hook for a couple of weeks. My mind wanders with ideas of ways or appointments to make to get me out of running...I always call her with my excuses and she is very patient with me, but I can imagine the eye-rolling going on from her side of the phone.

So, imagine my surprise to find myself actually running every morning by myself during the summer! I still haven't told my friend about my new found enthusiasm for running. Maybe, I am a little bit worried that it will somehow be gone by the time school starts...Or maybe, I think she won't believe me...it will be better to wait and show her my new dedication this fall.

As I ran this morning realizing that I had decided to run an extra mile---just for fun--- something I had never thought I would do unless at gunpoint; I couldn't help but smile.