Monday, April 28, 2008
Just Another Night in the 'Hood
My husband and I had returned home from a dinner on Thursday night. Nix was at the house hanging with the boys. I had just changed clothes and was settling in to watch the Survivor recording when the excitement began. . .
Youngest son enters the house from playing basketball outside:
"I think Nix broke his ankle."
Simply said. No sense of urgency or sound of being overly concerned in his voice.
I pause for a split second thinking, "Yeah, right."
But I realize that Nix has not followed him in - nor has my older son.
I make my way outside and find Nix laying in the grass, obviously in pain. Great!
"Hey bud, let's roll you over so I can look at your ankle."
"I can't roll over. It hurts too bad." Crumb!
My youngest son has followed me outside. "Call his mom," I say.
I begin asking Nix questions. My youngest son returns outside, phone in hand trying to reach Nix's mom. My husband has also ventured outside.
"Have you gotten ahold of her yet?"
"No. Nobody is answering either phone." Perfect!
As this is said Nix points out that he thinks the car coming up the street is his mom. Sure enough, she pulls up - wow!
"Um, I think you may want to pull in the drive," I say.
"Is that Nix on the ground?!"
"Yeah."
Luckily Nix's mom is low key. She has taken him to the emergency room no less than 3 or 4 times this school year. Concussion, cracked ribs, broken collar bone. . .all from football season.
We eventually get him loaded in her van. She points out this would be the second broken bone in our care - the sledding incident that ended up with a broken hand a couple of winters ago. I know. . . crazy.
She will stop by the house to get her husband - and the camera. Poor Nix will have more than one page in his scrapbook of emergency room visits!
Diagnosis: torn ligament.
Treatment: brace, crutches, and lots of sympathy from junior high girls.
I think he will rebound and hopefully be well in time for all the football camps.
simple faith
My husband and I had returned home from a dinner on Thursday night. Nix was at the house hanging with the boys. I had just changed clothes and was settling in to watch the Survivor recording when the excitement began. . .
Youngest son enters the house from playing basketball outside:
"I think Nix broke his ankle."
Simply said. No sense of urgency or sound of being overly concerned in his voice.
I pause for a split second thinking, "Yeah, right."
But I realize that Nix has not followed him in - nor has my older son.
I make my way outside and find Nix laying in the grass, obviously in pain. Great!
"Hey bud, let's roll you over so I can look at your ankle."
"I can't roll over. It hurts too bad." Crumb!
My youngest son has followed me outside. "Call his mom," I say.
I begin asking Nix questions. My youngest son returns outside, phone in hand trying to reach Nix's mom. My husband has also ventured outside.
"Have you gotten ahold of her yet?"
"No. Nobody is answering either phone." Perfect!
As this is said Nix points out that he thinks the car coming up the street is his mom. Sure enough, she pulls up - wow!
"Um, I think you may want to pull in the drive," I say.
"Is that Nix on the ground?!"
"Yeah."
Luckily Nix's mom is low key. She has taken him to the emergency room no less than 3 or 4 times this school year. Concussion, cracked ribs, broken collar bone. . .all from football season.
We eventually get him loaded in her van. She points out this would be the second broken bone in our care - the sledding incident that ended up with a broken hand a couple of winters ago. I know. . . crazy.
She will stop by the house to get her husband - and the camera. Poor Nix will have more than one page in his scrapbook of emergency room visits!
Diagnosis: torn ligament.
Treatment: brace, crutches, and lots of sympathy from junior high girls.
I think he will rebound and hopefully be well in time for all the football camps.
simple faith
Friday, April 25, 2008
Laundry Lady Lamentations
Last week my people were just hanging at the house one morning. Volunteer/Meeting Girl was working on a project and preparing for a meeting. The Laundry Lady was on day 2 of trying to make the mountains of laundry disappear. It was all going calmly and relatively well - the morning seemed to be on track.
About midmorning, as meeting time was approaching, the Laundry Lady went to make the "switch". You know, taking the stuff out of the dryer and putting the next load from the washing machine to the dryer. All in hopes of repeating the process in a timely manner throughout the day.
The large load of khaki shorts and pants was in the moving process. A couple of pair were thrown in the dryer when something caught the Laundry Lady's eye. . . something icy blue - definitely out of place amongst the khaki. Further examination revealed the substance to be gum.
The Laundry Lady sighs. Volunteer/Meeting Girl checks the time. And the Queen of Hearts, well she roars, "Off with their heads!!" She obviously assumes the boys are to blame - actually everyone assumes the boys are to blame.
A deviation from the time schedule is required while the Laundry Lady shakes out every piece of clothing from the load. Also she checks every item for more gum. There is plenty to be found. She even checks each pocket of the several pair of khaki CARGO shorts and pants that make up the load. A part of her is just wanting to make sure an entire pack of gum is not still in a pocket. The Queen of Hearts is secretly hoping to find the offender.
All the items are then reloaded into the washer. Hopefully another round will get rid of any sticky stuff.
After Volunteer/Meeting Girl is back home, the Laundry Lady revisits the problem. While loading the khakis into the dryer she pulls off a few more icy blue pieces. Saying a quick prayer of protection, she pushes the start button on the dryer.
All seems to be well as she unloads the dryer. Nothing appears to be stuck together or ruined. A quick peek into the dryer shows no signs of damage either. Whew! She opens the washer to make the next "switch" and suddenly realizes she is somewhat stuck to the floor. Yes, by something icy blue.
"OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!!", yells the Queen of Hearts. But with whose head? Everyone realizes that the offender has not been identified. Calmer voices prevail. The Mom is in completely control by the time the boys are picked up from school.
This week the Laundry Lady checked ALL the pockets in the khaki load. Her findings? A couple of quarters, a movie ticket, and an entire pack of icy blue gum.
Sigh - someone is going to have to learn to do his laundry if this keeps up!
simple faith
Last week my people were just hanging at the house one morning. Volunteer/Meeting Girl was working on a project and preparing for a meeting. The Laundry Lady was on day 2 of trying to make the mountains of laundry disappear. It was all going calmly and relatively well - the morning seemed to be on track.
About midmorning, as meeting time was approaching, the Laundry Lady went to make the "switch". You know, taking the stuff out of the dryer and putting the next load from the washing machine to the dryer. All in hopes of repeating the process in a timely manner throughout the day.
The large load of khaki shorts and pants was in the moving process. A couple of pair were thrown in the dryer when something caught the Laundry Lady's eye. . . something icy blue - definitely out of place amongst the khaki. Further examination revealed the substance to be gum.
The Laundry Lady sighs. Volunteer/Meeting Girl checks the time. And the Queen of Hearts, well she roars, "Off with their heads!!" She obviously assumes the boys are to blame - actually everyone assumes the boys are to blame.
A deviation from the time schedule is required while the Laundry Lady shakes out every piece of clothing from the load. Also she checks every item for more gum. There is plenty to be found. She even checks each pocket of the several pair of khaki CARGO shorts and pants that make up the load. A part of her is just wanting to make sure an entire pack of gum is not still in a pocket. The Queen of Hearts is secretly hoping to find the offender.
All the items are then reloaded into the washer. Hopefully another round will get rid of any sticky stuff.
After Volunteer/Meeting Girl is back home, the Laundry Lady revisits the problem. While loading the khakis into the dryer she pulls off a few more icy blue pieces. Saying a quick prayer of protection, she pushes the start button on the dryer.
All seems to be well as she unloads the dryer. Nothing appears to be stuck together or ruined. A quick peek into the dryer shows no signs of damage either. Whew! She opens the washer to make the next "switch" and suddenly realizes she is somewhat stuck to the floor. Yes, by something icy blue.
"OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!!", yells the Queen of Hearts. But with whose head? Everyone realizes that the offender has not been identified. Calmer voices prevail. The Mom is in completely control by the time the boys are picked up from school.
This week the Laundry Lady checked ALL the pockets in the khaki load. Her findings? A couple of quarters, a movie ticket, and an entire pack of icy blue gum.
Sigh - someone is going to have to learn to do his laundry if this keeps up!
simple faith
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
One of the Perks
I am usually not one to brag, but. . .I talked to an astronaut the other day. Yeah, a real-live-been-to-space-have-a-street-named-after-me astronaut. It was cool. It was exhilarating. It was humbling. It was affirming.
Weird reactions, I know. But let me try to explain.
Although I love my chosen path, I still feel a bit self-conscious when someone asks me what I do. Even if they pose the question in the politically correct fashion of, "Do you work outside the home?" Normally I just smile and quip, "Not at anything I get paid for!"
But, I know what they mean. We tend to define ourselves somewhat by our "job" and, well, we also tend to judge people by their career field - or lack there of.
Sometimes I just want to shout, "You know, I am smart! I have my college degree! I can speak in complete sentences that don't have to have rhyming words in them (but yet I can rhyme like a mad woman)! I am a contributing member of society! I CHOOSE THIS!"
Very few people make me feel this way anymore. I am pretty comfortable with myself. But I would not be honest if I did not say there are days that I envy my friends and family that have those cool jobs. They travel, they meet important people. Their role is easily seen and defined.
Most of what I do is "behind the scenes" type of stuff. In one particular organization I volunteer for I literally spend hours doing this type of work. My name is rarely signed on anything I produce, except for a group of letters received by a few very generous donors.
And this is where the astronaut comes in. I have been mailing him things for a couple of years, updating him on things the Foundation does in his honor. This spring the particular project spiked his interest. We provided the astronomy teacher at the high school with funding for a camera to be used on the telescope at the high school. This will allow them to take photos of space.
I was out of town for a few days and upon returning home found the astronaut's name and phone number to contact. Wow! Cool! Scary!
He was gracious when I returned his call. There was a reason this project spiked his interest (other than the obvious - space). His son will be journeying to the International Space Station this fall for a 10 day assignment. His job? Taking pictures in space! He would like to donate some of his son's photos to our science department. Wow! Cool! Exhilarating!
After our phone conversation I wanted so badly to call the teacher and tell him the news. But, this was not my job. I instead called the girl whose job it is to break the news and make the arrangements for such a donation. Humbling.
So instead I brag here - just for a moment. I spoke to a real-live astronaut!
Some days the benefits of this "job" rock!!!
simple faith
I am usually not one to brag, but. . .I talked to an astronaut the other day. Yeah, a real-live-been-to-space-have-a-street-named-after-me astronaut. It was cool. It was exhilarating. It was humbling. It was affirming.
Weird reactions, I know. But let me try to explain.
Although I love my chosen path, I still feel a bit self-conscious when someone asks me what I do. Even if they pose the question in the politically correct fashion of, "Do you work outside the home?" Normally I just smile and quip, "Not at anything I get paid for!"
But, I know what they mean. We tend to define ourselves somewhat by our "job" and, well, we also tend to judge people by their career field - or lack there of.
Sometimes I just want to shout, "You know, I am smart! I have my college degree! I can speak in complete sentences that don't have to have rhyming words in them (but yet I can rhyme like a mad woman)! I am a contributing member of society! I CHOOSE THIS!"
Very few people make me feel this way anymore. I am pretty comfortable with myself. But I would not be honest if I did not say there are days that I envy my friends and family that have those cool jobs. They travel, they meet important people. Their role is easily seen and defined.
Most of what I do is "behind the scenes" type of stuff. In one particular organization I volunteer for I literally spend hours doing this type of work. My name is rarely signed on anything I produce, except for a group of letters received by a few very generous donors.
And this is where the astronaut comes in. I have been mailing him things for a couple of years, updating him on things the Foundation does in his honor. This spring the particular project spiked his interest. We provided the astronomy teacher at the high school with funding for a camera to be used on the telescope at the high school. This will allow them to take photos of space.
I was out of town for a few days and upon returning home found the astronaut's name and phone number to contact. Wow! Cool! Scary!
He was gracious when I returned his call. There was a reason this project spiked his interest (other than the obvious - space). His son will be journeying to the International Space Station this fall for a 10 day assignment. His job? Taking pictures in space! He would like to donate some of his son's photos to our science department. Wow! Cool! Exhilarating!
After our phone conversation I wanted so badly to call the teacher and tell him the news. But, this was not my job. I instead called the girl whose job it is to break the news and make the arrangements for such a donation. Humbling.
So instead I brag here - just for a moment. I spoke to a real-live astronaut!
Some days the benefits of this "job" rock!!!
simple faith
Labels: Life
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
A Whole New World
I turned around twice in my kitchen and found myself in a new world. . . . .
Last summer the neighbor's falling tree took out our basketball goal by the driveway. We finally replaced it a couple of weekends ago. Once again, the driveway was filled with boys playing some very serious pick-up games.
While preparing dinner last week I looked up to see something new - a boy I did not know in my driveway and his vehicle parked on the street. Just last spring I would have opened my door, greeted him, and introduced myself. I decided against this because, well, the boys are getting older and "the mom" doesn't need to be so June Cleaverish. I also noted that there must be more boys still in the vehicle because at least 3 of the boys from my yard had congregated that direction and seemed to be visiting with somebody.
Although I opted not to embarrass my boys, I did alert my husband to the new development. Always good for teenagers to know "the dad" is home for crowd control purposes!
At the dinner table we received a breakdown of names, etc. from the predinner game. It allowed us to at least put names and faces together.
While cleaning after dinner I hear unfamiliar voices in the driveway. This time it is a group of boys I know who have shown up to play the nightcap. They drove themselves!
I looked at my husband and said, "You realize we have just entered a new world."
And so, instead of checking the driveway to make sure I do not back over anyone's bike or scooter I will now try to avoid backing into anyone's vehicle.
Wow - things change quickly!
simple faith
I turned around twice in my kitchen and found myself in a new world. . . . .
Last summer the neighbor's falling tree took out our basketball goal by the driveway. We finally replaced it a couple of weekends ago. Once again, the driveway was filled with boys playing some very serious pick-up games.
While preparing dinner last week I looked up to see something new - a boy I did not know in my driveway and his vehicle parked on the street. Just last spring I would have opened my door, greeted him, and introduced myself. I decided against this because, well, the boys are getting older and "the mom" doesn't need to be so June Cleaverish. I also noted that there must be more boys still in the vehicle because at least 3 of the boys from my yard had congregated that direction and seemed to be visiting with somebody.
Although I opted not to embarrass my boys, I did alert my husband to the new development. Always good for teenagers to know "the dad" is home for crowd control purposes!
At the dinner table we received a breakdown of names, etc. from the predinner game. It allowed us to at least put names and faces together.
While cleaning after dinner I hear unfamiliar voices in the driveway. This time it is a group of boys I know who have shown up to play the nightcap. They drove themselves!
I looked at my husband and said, "You realize we have just entered a new world."
And so, instead of checking the driveway to make sure I do not back over anyone's bike or scooter I will now try to avoid backing into anyone's vehicle.
Wow - things change quickly!
simple faith
