Down by the river

On Sunday the boys and I headed down to the Mississippi for a stroll. Eli and Theo were sporting their rain boots and were thrilled to test the depth of the many puddles along the river road. Then we decided to go off-road. We threaded our way down a small path off of Jefferson- the same path I often took with my grandparents 35 years ago on beautiful spring days. They would lead us down to the river where we would scratch our names into the sandstone and throw rocks into the river. The boys and I treaded carefully down the soggy path- following the same route as the trickling water from the snow melt. At the bottom Eli and I threw some rocks, scratched our names in the sandstone using the harder chunks of limestone that were scattered on the path. Theo was only interested in scurrying around collecting what he called fossil. I didn't really believe that he was so easily unearthing anything fossil-like, but upon a close inspection of his goods, sure enough the rocks he had collected were chock full of sea creature fossils from millions of years ago. He quietly filled up the pockets of his jacket, then his pants. While we carefully picked our way back up to street level I turned around to see why Theo was taking so long. There he was 100 yards back, bent over his latest find. I watched him straighten up, force a rock bigger than his hand into his pocket and start a little jog to catch up. As he ran up the path his pants were forced south by the loads in his pockets. Every few steps he had to stop and adjust, but never did a complaint come out of his mouth. I didn't have a camera so I had to just capture the image in my heart.

Tonic

For the past few days here in St. Paul the weather has provided a wonderful working definition of the word 'tonic'. It has been all we could possibly ask for. Sunny, light breezes, anywhere from 50 to the higher 60's. It's that kind of weather that begs you to go for a run. Dares you to deny your body's desire to stretch and jump- to smile. It is a day like today that makes you want to keep living here. Because how wonderful would 55 and sunny feel if we didn't have to get through the winter first? Anyway- coming in just now from the grocery store- lugging my bags from car to front steps- I recalled that just last week while performing this same task I was braving subzero windchills and several times did the windmill as I slipped on the ice. I fear I was quite grumpy- certainly not smiling. Today- how can you not??? The word tonic kept running through my head and I came in to look up the actual definition. Here it is: Anything that invigorates, refreshes, or restores. Producing or stimulating physical or mental vigor. I have fully enjoyed the invigoration and refreshment I have felt over the past few days. But the aspect that I most needed was the restoring. Most prominently, the need for my faith in Minnesota to be restored. It has. And I am so delighted that as soon as I hit 'publish' I can slip on my running shoes and hit the streets sans jacket. Now I'm just waiting for the mental vigor to kick in. That seems to be lagging behind a bit....

Crocodile

Theo's got one of those loose teeth right now- the kind that is just dangling by some kind of thread, but refuses to come out. I've tried to pull it. But I am admittedly a bit wimpy about that. I feel its slipperly little mass start to give in my hand and I utter a little screach and then retreat. I don't know why I have this reaction. I think it's a deep-seated repugnance at seeing these guys grow up. Eli is such a lanky near-teen right now that I'm holding hard to anything that is still soft and smells sweet. This would not be Theo's feet. Somehow he got the stinker gene when it comes to feet- don't think Eli has ever actually broken a sweat nor produced an odor in his life. Anyway- back to the tooth. It's front and center and the kid can not let it be. His tongue is constantly swinging it back and forth- which is fine unless you are laying down next to him trying to read him a book. It can make a lot of distracting noise. So we were reading last night, Theo swinging the tooth, me shushing him, Eli in the top bunk shushing us both so he can keep tearing through The Return of the King. Then Theo figures out that if he pushes the tooth as far forward as possible and then kind of jabs his bottom lip up under it the tooth will remain on the outside of his closed-lipped smile. I didn't know about this new trick until it hit me that I wasn't hearing any of the tongue-tooth noise. I looked to the left and there he was, one inch from my face with his tooth overhanging his lip and the largest crocodilian smile I have ever seen. I was so close to his face that when he looked at me he went a little cross-eyed. It took me quite a while to get my giggles back under control so we could continue on with the Magic Tree House.
This morning he woke up and while still stretching and stumbling toward my bed in quite the stupor he deftly maneuvered the tooth back to the crocodile position and gave me the grin. I am quite sure that he spent much of the night unknowingly practicing this procedure. I lifted the comforter and pulled his warm little bony elbowed body in for a snuggle.

The Call

Yesterday I got the call. It's one I've been expecting for some time. From Expo Elementary- Theo's school. Lately he has been really working on his risk taking- as in increasing it. He's always had this propensity but now it seems as if he is carefully grooming it. The other day we were skiing out at Willow River with Jean and Rodg. Eli, Jean, and I were out ahead because Eli moves at a significantly quicker pace than his younger brother. Until he hits a hill- going down. Eli is back to the knees together, snowplowing, pole picking, granny-style downhill. Even though he goes about 2.3 miles per hour, he does enjoy it. So, while we were waiting for Theo and his entourage to catch up we went down this littlish hill twice. Eli was just leveling out at the bottom after a careful decent when Theo came around the corner. "A hill!!!" he screamed, then rushed forward, striding wildly until he started to glide downward- whereupon he instantly goes into the tuck. He triumphantly pumped his fist in the air as he passed by his brother at the bottom- thrilled. Then, last Wednesday, while my mom and dad were watching all three grandboys, Theo decided to climb up into the top bunk. This is usually not a problem, but with Max over it takes a new angle. Max is at that place where he is ready to follow his big cousin Theo to the ends of the earth- or atleast to the top bunk. And what does Theo do next? Jumps. Jean caught Max before he followed suit.
So back to the call. I walked into my office just as the phone started ringing. Sure enough, it's Betty, the Expo secretary. She has Theo sitting there next to her. He's alright. He just fell off the top of the slide out on the playgroud. Broke his fall with his head. He's got an icepack on it, but they are pretty sure that they are going to be sending him home at the end of the day with a pretty big bump. I asked if I should come pick him up but she assured me that he seemed fine. So I asked, "If he's fine, do mind leaning over and asking him if he learned anything from this??" Turns out she did mind- but she was more than willing to let me ask him that. I didn't. Not right then, because when he got on the phone there was still a trace of a sniffle in his voice. But here's hoping he did a little learning as he tumbled through the air.

Love my job

I haven't written much about my job, but the truth is, I love it. I work as part of a co-op of teachers who run a small charter school together. We have no principal, no superintendent, it's just us. Often I look around and think, 'who's in charge here anyway???'. Oh. Us. But it works so nicely. This is only because we have such a spectacular team. There are 23 of us and we make all decisions through consensus during Thursday morning meetings. We've been doing this for 8 years- with the number of staff members steadily increasing each year. Back when there were only 9 of us we all thought that there was no way we could continue the consensus thing past 10 members. But we've done it. Not always easy- not always clean- but we get there. A couple years ago a staff member conned us into using a talking piece during our meetings. So if you are in charge of facilitating, you have to bring a talking piece. These vary, sometimes an orange, sometimes a water bottle, but most often some sort of stuffed animal. If you have something to say, you have to wait until you get the talking piece. Lately it has been this little stuffed amoeba thingy. Called 'the germ'. As in "pass me the germ!! I have a point to make!" Today it was a stuffed crab. Which quickly became crabs. As in, "Shh, can't you see that Chris has got crabs??" Crass, I know, and probably should not be part of a business meeting, but again, the trick here is that we all think we are funny. Or at least those who disagree haven't gotten their hands on the talking piece yet.

Facebook = Self-actualization

Now, I am pretty sure that the people who invented Facebook did not have as a main tenet of their business plan that Facebook should help people move to new levels on that old self-actualization pyramid we all learned about in social studies class back in high school. But indeed, that is what has happened to me and I'm not so sure I like it. It all started with one of the latest chain-mail-y 'notes' that is pinging around out there. So far I have resisted the strong feelings of guilt that come when I am 'tagged' in one of these. According to the rules, I am then supposed to write my own and send her off into the facebook universe. I'm not going to do it. Not. But anytime one of them shows up I get these intense feelings of guilt, much like I got back when we used to get the random 'sticker club!' chain mail letters when the kids were younger. Didn't give in to those either. But it sure wasn't easy.
Anyway- on to my self actualization. It wasn't about my feelings toward chain letters. I've known for quite awhile that I need to get the upper hand on my feelings about these things, and I'm working on it, I really am. No- what I realized is this: In high school I was a nerd. A nerd. I guess I've always had suspicions, but never really faced it. But just the other day I was reading one of my old high school friend's responses to the chain mail thing called 'Senior Year'. It asked 'where did you sit in the lunchroom?' and her response was 'Burger King-until our senior year when we had to stay at school'. Burger King? We could leave school? How come I didn't know this? And that started me thinking- what else was I not aware of at high school? What were the other kids doing that I was completely obilivious to? Her answers to the other questions provided some hints. And then I got to the question "Were you a nerd?". Her answer, 'no'; mine? I think it would have to be yes.
But then--- if I didn't know I was a nerd back then, was I truly a nerd? If I was just someone who happily sailed through high school, always sitting with my little bag lunch in the same place in the lunchroom, hanging with my friends, and having some seriously good laughs and good times- while others were doing things like going to Burger King and...all those other things I just read about on facebook, was I truly a nerd? And why am I framing this all in the past tense? This nerd thing is a lasting condition, I fear. After all, I am a person who once lived on a Caribbean island for two solid years and no one ever offered me any pot. Not once. My brother came down to visit me for a week and I think he was possibly 15 feet off the plane when his first offer came in. Not that he took it, Mom. And now I'm all tangled up in this philosophical question- if you are something (say a nerd) but you don't know it, are you really that thing? Again, I have to go back to Facebook- I was reading a different person's '25 Random Things' and she mentioned a real eye opener for herself: When she moved in with a host family in a small village in Guatemala she told her new mom that she was a vegetarian. Her host mom inquired into what that might be. After Molly explained it the host mom said, "Well, I guess I'm one of those too, just not by my choice." There was just no meat to be had. Are you a vegetarian if you don't know you are one? I mean, it's all in the actual application of the label, isn't it? I am sure that there were indeed a few of my classmates had attached this label of nerd to me back in high school. But I didn't feel it, didn't see it, didn't hear it- so did it stick? Apparently.