November walk

November brought spring to our part of the world this week. There were two fights on the Elementary school playground yesterday, as if the weather itself has stirred the restlessness of our children. Andrew avoided involvement, but he prides himself on thorough reporting. Another mother from his class confirmed the second hand reports,

“Oh, yes, I heard there was lots of blood. Unbelievable.”

Spring this week, with all of its glory.

The kids and I walked down to the park in our neighborhood. I am President of the Association here, so I try to walk the property as frequently as possible.

“Mom, wasn’t that so cool when we cleaned up the park, and everyone painted it?”

“Yes, it was.”

We entered a 13-acre park with a playground, baseball diamond, and pavilion. Amazing people live in our neighborhood. You know, the kind of people who show up with tools and donate paint and run out and buy donuts to celebrate. We have a few of the other kind too. Yes, yes, we all know about them. We make excuses for them and some people deserve the excuses, but we try not to judge. We try not, even if our minds do it by accident, and we reserve our opinions.

My children have not met them yet.

The sun sets early now and soon the November chill penetrated the stillness. The only leaves rustling lay under our muddy feet. George held my hand.

I enjoyed the walk home in the cool evening air, but my thoughts were on starting dinner, encouraging homework, perhaps a load of laundry yet. Seeing our house from a distance, I saw a humble home. Not a home that pumps the chest large with pride, just a nice home. A home that works out pretty well for us, but cannot be the castle of a child’s dreams. A light was left on, betraying the warmth within.

Andrew and Gladys ran up ahead, leaving George and I hand in hand a whole driveway behind.

“Let’s check this one out, Gladys. It looks perfect for us!”

“Oh, yes, Andrew, I like the pumpkins on the porch!”

“Mom, I think we should buy this one, don’t you think?” they ran to the door, squealing with delight, pretending to find our home for the very first time.

By the time I arrived, they were upstairs finding their bedroom. They ran from room to room.

“Mom! Look, there is a great guest room up here, and sewing stuff, and even a guest bed!”

I heard Gladys’ footsteps running behind Andrew.

“And, there are TWO bathrooms up here. One for the big people and one for us too!”

From every room I heard their surprised voices describing how incredibly, unbelievably, stupendously, fantastic every detail in our house fits our family like a well-worn glove. Like a prince and princess exploring their very own castle.

I closed the window against the November chill, and started dinner.

A Geek at the Park

If a geek goes to the park on a beautiful day,
The things she may think but may never say . . .

She would look at this picture blown out of proportion,
Seeing water on cotton think liquid absorption.

And those shoes, “How cute!” but she wouldn’t go mention,
That beading water to her is nice surface tension.

And here Gladys jumps with exhilaration,
Against gravity it’s called counter acceleration.

Here George sits up high, now this is special,
She jumps to conclusions and sees energy’s potential

When that potential is spent and he’s back on the ground,
George splashes and plays, romping around.

Then suddenly he sees George, where he never expects,
In a muddy Fall puddle, he learns light reflects.

So why did she go to the park on this day?
The truth is: fresh air, and to see the kids play.

We teach them to see through just one more lens:
Science and poetry, the importance of friends.

So who is this geek? Surely not I.
Well, I can’t really hide it. I don’t even try.

Authors note: Congratulations to Senator and soon-to-be President Obama. I also congratulate Senator McCain, and all of those who have helped both of you through this crazy campaign season. Thank you for your sacrifices to make this democracy work.

All Day Playdate

On Wednesday, when we were on our 12-mile bike ride on some local trails, a friend of mine convinced me to take a day trip to an island in the Great Lakes. The magic wand that was so prophetically waved at me on Monday in the park, must have been very powerful indeed.

We went. Three moms, seven kids, and packed lunches all shoved gracefully into two minivans. The day was beautiful. We had almost a straight flush of kids aged 1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 6, & 7.

We rode around the island. The 6 & 7 yr old boys led the pack. My barely six year old, Andrew, kept up in spite of his being both smaller and having a 16-inch bike (vs. his friend’s 20” bike with gears). He pedaled like a maniac. The magic wand must have given him special energy as well.

Did I mention the day was beautiful?

We stopped for lunch and the kids threw rocks into the lake. We stopped for ice cream and George was completely covered in vanilla. We stopped after 15 miles and the kids ran to play on the playground. (George and Gladys had been in the trailer, so of course they had a little energy left). Their mother who had been hauling them around was still going stronger than she should have . . . .

The older boys actually started fighting over playing with George on the playground. They all wanted to help the one-year-old. They were chasing him around to the stairs, helping him up, lifting him to the highest slide, then racing to the bottom of the slide to catch him. Over and over they did this. George was stumbling along, hardly able to stand up he was so tired. It was already after 4pm.

My two friends had been talking over by the vans, packing up, while I watch the kids at the playground. When they came over, I asked what seemed like an obvious question,

“So, did you call the hubbies? Are we grabbing a martini and watching the sun set?”

We all had the same thing on our minds. We decided to stay. By then, it was nearly 5pm but we decided to head down the beach anyway. One of my friends ran over and bought some refreshments for the adults. We didn’t bring extra clothes.

“Take off your shorts before jumping into the lake!”

They all did. The kids splashed and played. George played in the biggest sandbox he had probably ever seen. Have I not taken him to the beach before?? I was running through the water taking pictures when Andrew decided to get me quite wet with one of our empty cups.

All of the sudden, it was 7pm. Three moms and seven sand-caked kids took a shower in the camping area. My friend magically produced one towel per family. We raided the van and found mismatched clothes for all the kids. We went to dinner at a local joint on the island, serving “world-famous” beverages. We felt the experience would not be complete unless we tried them. After all, we must teach our children that it is fun to try new things. (My “breathable” athletic shorts were not breathing fast enough to dry my panties, so I ran out to the van during dinner and removed the wet, sandy, excessively uncomfortable garment - phew).

We left the restaurant in the dark. Our fearless leader had parked around the corner. When my other friend and I jumped in my van with the rest of the kids, we chose the wrong direction towards the ferry. We drove on and on. It isn’t a big island. I suggested that we pull out the kiddie menu from the restaurant that had a map – at which point my friend recognized that the water was, indeed, on the left instead of the right. We were going in the wrong direction.

We made it on the 9:30pm ferry. My kids were in bed just after midnight.

That, my friends, is how a play date should be.