The Mommy Parties

Every year on the last day of school, my friend, ~F~, hosts a cocktail party.  At the beginning of the school year, my other friend, Mama V, hosts a First Day of School Tea.  Cocktail Party friend ~F~ suggested once that I host a mid-summer night's party in my backyard sometime before Back2School season begins ~ because I have a sweet pad. 

No, seriously, she did.   

Last week, I read this inspired post by The Nester. 

We all like to have people over right? I mean, in EVERY. SINGLE. episode of HGTV’s House Hunters every couple on there talks about how they love to entertain. I think we all love the idea of entertaining but, once again, perfection rears it’s perfectly daunting and shaming head and tells us that we have to wait until we have it all together until we can invite people into our life and home.

I realized some things.  First, I've never hosted an adult party with just my own friends.  Dare me to plan an Olympic Extravaganza.  Got it.  Summer Bucket list include Friends on Fridays all summer-long?  (For the kids.)  Not a problem.  Deciding not to move and wanna throw a party?  Did it.  (For the kids.)  But with the over-30 crowd?  I sweat.  I wring my hands.  I'm not sure.  Should I stay?  Should I go?  Will they like me?  (Oh wait.  That was high school.)  Second, if I didn't plan a party immediately, the opportunity to enjoy my backyard with girlfriends in the midst of their summer tans and plans would pass into the very crimson and gold colors of fall that tempt us with their football and cooler nights.  Third, it truly just doesn't have to be perfect to be beautiful ~ The Nester, again.  If I didn't dust, it wouldn't matter.  If there's no door on the armoire because we busted it off bringing it back upstairs, who cares?  No decorations on the wall in the kitchen cuz I just don't know what to do with that monstrosity even after all these years?  So be it.  This is me.  (cue Camp Rock soundtrack...)

Literally two days ago, I decided to take the bull by the horns, so to speak.  If every single couple on HGTV's House Hunters says they love to entertain (per The Nester) and it simply doesn't have to be perfect to be beautiful ~ it's the art of gathering not the art on the walls ~ The Nester sprinkled with a li'l me, then why am I not doing so for my own generation in my own backyard? 

I sent out a bunch of emails.  With lots of LOLs and F2Fs and stuff like that, cuz I am so 2008.  (I'm so kidding.)  And, lucky for me, a gaggle of the sweetest ladies agreed to show up.  After two days' notice.  (Cuz they are awesome like that.) 

And do you know what's funny?  No one mentioned the dust on the mantle.  Or the broken armoire.  Or the lack of kitchen decor.  I had so stinkin' much fun laughing out loud and sharing face to face that I didn't even snap a single picture.  Not a one.  Until the very end after everyone had left. 

To the Girls of Summer 2010 ~ Thank you for letting me do this.  So many times it's easier to decline or to give in to the busyness of everyday life.  Thank you for taking the time out to sit and chat and smile and breathe.  That's what I did, anyway.  I hope you all did, too.   It was a blessing to me to have you here.  Thank you! 

{{And to anyone who missed OES Mid-Summer Moms Night Out 2010 ~ here's to Summer 2011!  And to maybe a slightly less humid night...?!}}

By the way, a big thank you to God for staving off the rain until after 10:00 as I'd requested.  You rock.

The Boy Who Thought He Could Fly

Finalizing photo images on the blog post, I hit 'publish post' and waited.

Thump.

A moment passed before I realized the sound had occurred.  It came from the stairwell in front of me.  Hubby immediately stood from his post on the far end of the sectional, his long purposeful strides bringing him to the top of the stairs just as the screaming began.

"What the he__," came his automatic response.

I jumped up.  Before I reached the top of the stairs, however, Meiners came stumbling up and fell, sobbing, into my arms.  His mouth agape, tears staining his cheeks, his hand clawed at the skin at his hair.

As the story would unfold, beanbags lay in wait at the bottom of the stairs.  Meiners, having been sent to bed under no uncertain terms for the last time, eyed the soft, billowy cushion of temptation approximately half-way into his descent.  Six steps from the bottom, he paused.  Inhaled.  And leapt.  Immediately, his forehead impaled the I-beam above the bottom of the stairwell.

At first glance, the goose egg had begun to form, but there was no laceration.  No blood.  Just a crease.  An indentation about half an inch below the hairline.  But gradually, gradually red seeped into the space.  And quickly the mommy brain took over the mommy body. 

I phoned the exchange and scribbled a litany of symptoms.  As the mom, I knew I would be in charge of analyzing them over the course of the next 72 hours.  Four Meltaway Tylenol later, he wouldn't settle down to fall asleep.  Symptom #4.  His ear began to throb. Was that a symptom?  Made mental note. 

The next morning, after waking Meiners several times through the night - once asking him, "What's the cat's name? ... This cat right here," I tossed the cat toward his sleeping body.

"Obi."  Sweet sleepy boy gurgled with his eyes peacefully shut.

"No, Meinie, that's the dog's name.  What's the cat's name?"  I asked again, lifting the dead weight of his hand and allowing it to plop onto the back of the less-than-pleased-by-the-late-night-attention kitty.

Eyes open a slit.  I'm pretty sure he's glaring.  "Obi."  He insisted. 

"Dammit Meiners, I'm trying to sleep," a voice came from the opposite side of the room.  "What's the cat's name.  Answer Boy," he continued, waking a little more with every bubble of the sleep-deprived, harmless anger.

Repeat above.

"I mean Benn."

Sleep.

When I called the doctor later that day, I shared that Meiners wouldn't go under the water in the pool.  His ear throbbed throughout the day.  She insisted I bring him right in.

Fine by me.  What could the possibility of blood in the middle ear mean?  Really, the sight of the injury looked like a cat scratch.  No bruise.  No bump.  The child has a head of steel.  But a mother worries.  What could it be?

Apparently, an ear infection.  Completely unrelated to The Spirit of St. Louis.

Today, he's fine.  On his second full day of antibiotic.  Bean bags tucked safely in the closet under the stairs.  By daddy.  Who rewarded the sleepless mommy with a nice large cup of icee mocha.

Gotta love that daddy.
Gotta love the boy who thought he could fly.

And gotta thank God for the angels who kissed away the boom.  Even after they momentarily gave him wings.

Traveling Tuesday

Traveling Tuesdays took a backseat recently but returned in full force today. Once the twins finished Cooking School in the morning, we headed out to adopt a bird! After careful deliberation, Meiners and Pookie chose to sponsor Lewis, the Bald Eagle who flies in the Cardinals pre-game shows. Seemed fitting.

We spent extra time checking out all the exhibits and even drove through Lone Elk Park to find Sashi some 'deers,' so our plans to visit Purina Farms were thwarted (closes at 3:30), Instead we headed to Meramec State Park.

From there, the infamous Jesse James Wax Museum (shoulda gotten pictures of the outside, too...)

Just goes to show we're always up for an adventure.
And I'm the luckiest mom in the world. (Love those kids!!!)

This Old Man

He turned sixty.

He makes 60 look real nifty.

He's a great Grandpa

And a super-duper dad.

For a father-in-law, he's not so bad.

Happy Birthday Pops!

How 'bout THEM cupcakes...

The kids did a great job! Pookie and Meiners' original goal for a kestrel or a screech owl was surpassed ~ it looks like they may have raised enough to help The World Bird Sanctuary with a hefty $164! That means they're fighting over a red-tailed hawk or an American bald eagle. Go figure. In the spirit of charity, they find adversity. It seems like good adversity to share, however. Trying to decide what kind of bird to sponsor with your brother/sister after a highly successful bake sale fundraiser! Now they have quite a few thank you notes to pen. So, if you enjoyed a mouthful of delicious lemony or scrumptious chocolatey cupcake, consider a sincere thank you from this mama til the kids get those letters in the mail...

k

Bake Sale

We visited the World Bird Sanctuary last week for our Traveling Tuesday event - and to deliver about a dozen bird houses Mr. T and Hubby's Boy Scout den had made for them. We tend to go there quite a bit.

There's a funny story about a trip to the zoo when it was just the twins, a purchase of a couple small paper cups of nectar, and dive-bombing parakeets in a walk-through bird cage that led to Pookie being deathly afraid of birds until our heart friend Benjamin's birthday bash at the World Bird Sanctuary. Somehow, Pookie's love of Benjamin (and letsjustadmit all things party) superceded her total-hyperventilating-shaking-like-a-leaf-screaming-behind-mommy's-knees response that was usually elicited upon visual recognition of a feathered friend. Since that 5th birthday party 3 years ago, however, Birds are now the girl's best friend...

Enter:

After last week's visit, Pookie and Meiners decided they would like to adopt a bird. I quickly discovered and rectified the idea that adopting a bird meant bringing the highly useful yet very wild animal home. I likened it to the child we sponsor in Iraq. We didn't bring her home, right? (Tho we would if we could...) They seemed to understand a little more clearly the concept of adopt/sponsor.

The kids perused the pamphlet and quickly determined it would take them months to earn enough money under our family financial regime to adopt a bird. So they decided to have a bake sale.

They are selling cupcakes! Gorgeous, delicious, and amazing cupcakes, if I do say so myself (after-all, I am their Head Baker). They are baking red-velvet (just in time for the Fourth!), chocolate-peanut butter, lemon blueberry surprise, and OWL cupcakes. The cost is $10 for a box of 4, or one cupcake for $3. If you live in the StL area and want to assist the World Bird Sanctuary adoption, as well, you can send me a note via my contacts ;) .

Blessings!

k

considering mid-life crises

I should know by now not to promise in advance any sort of postings. Before I shut my computer down for the night, odds are likely I've already forgotten that I promised to tell about the kids' plans to raise money for the birds (sorry Evy !!!) or my plans to document the never-ending list of ways God has helped me in my life --- to instead write about the more frivolous topic: Mid Life Crises.


Hubby and I sat around the picnic table this weekend while the big kids splashed haphazardly about the pool before us and Little S plunged herself freely into her plastic pool at our feet - discussing Big Stuff. The meaning of life, the wonders of faith and - you guessed it - celebrating middle life. No. Seriously, we really did. All of that.


I'd say about two years ago I began to consider that this all ends. In those days of hiding in the kitchen and praying that God would make the long hours of being a speech therapist end, it never once occurred to me that it actually would. End. One day. And that I might actually look back at those days and pine over their carefree ways. Carefree. The days of my working 12 hours plus, driving from one end of St. Louis to the other to the other and back. Staying up typing reports and planning enriching activities for little people who sat in the stench of their dirty diapers and their parents who could care less as I worried about my car being vandalized on the street and the ice storm looming in the horizon, keeping me from getting home to the safety of my life in the suburbs...Carefree. Yeah. The days before the pressures and absolutely loving with abandon the little people who run about calling me mom and expecting me to feed them and keep them clean and run them places and teach them about the bible and maintaining a budget and waking at all hours of the night to need coffee to put a smile on my face because this is it - this is the life days that are Today. Mhmmm...those other days were carefree indeed.


It never even occurred to me that this would be tougher. You know - the whole parent thing. But about two years ago, I at once saw the crows feet in the corner of my eyes and the increasing depths of the crease between my eyes ... and life stood still. Before it took off head first into the deep end of Oh. My. God. - This is life. - This is it. The What. Am. I. Doing. With. It. Because. This. Ends. Too!!! sort of panic that I saw in my expression in the mirror.


Anyway, as Hubby and I discussed Solomon and his writings in Ecclesiastes that the whole entire purpose of life - from the man who had wisdom and wealth and concubines and crops aplenty - is to worship God, I began to consider that this - the wonder and amazement and fear and realization and the waking and the sleeping and all of it --- this is my mid-life crisis. I don't know that it's a crisis i.e. catastrophe, crazy thing I do as much as it's the reality of the crisis - the wonder, amazement, fear, realization of the waking and the sleeping of it all that eventually crashes into the wall of Done. Finished. Finito. You have been there and you have done that. The critical moments in my life when I realize: Wake Up, Buttercup. Cuz one day you're gonna look back and pine over these days. And they'll be gone. And you'll be old. And you'll realize. This was It.

This is my mid-life crisis.