Second Fiddle

Eli is nine and he still is more apt than not to hold my hand while we're out strolling, or like this morning, to crawl into my bed early in the morning, snuggle up and give me some heartwarming affirmation of his love. This morning I got a sleepy, "You're the best mom in the whole world....no, even in other worlds too." Which I take and stick into my bank of lovely sayings, saving up for the times in adolescence when the boys might not be so free with their sweet nothings. But yesterday we got the cold affirmation of the fact that Jon and I, though still clearly loved and treasured by our boys, have fallen to second fiddle in their esteem when it comes to having a good time. And who has taken our place? The babysitter. Rebecca. I know that this should not be a shock to us. The hints have been floating around all year, but yesterday Eli summed it up like this:
Jon- "Eli, you know, you could have Rebecca help you with your spelling homework this afternoon while she's here."
Eli (eyes agog)- "Dad!! That would be like asking me to jump out of line at an amusement park in order to do my spelling!! I'll wait til after she leaves and you're home."

So, I guess time with Rebecca = amusement park-like excitement. Time with mom and dad? Spelling practice. Dang.

Skiing with the Big E

This past Sunday Jon was still at his ski race, Theo was heading over to a friend's to play, and Eli and I had a nice afternoon in front of us. I would have loved to curl up on the couch with him and read, but I also thought that since it was above 30 and sunny we should probably get our behinds outside for some fresh air. So we packed up our skies and headed over to Theodore Wirth. It was actually his ski lesson time and those lessons do take place at that very same park, but we decided that since all other family members were skipping lessons that Eli should go AWOL as well. We parked in the auxilary lot, away from the prying eyes of ski school volunteers, and suited up. I took him through the woods to the back portion of the park, away from the 170 small skiers working hard at lessons. This trail system is significantly more hilly than anything Eli has tried lately, but he was game.
We had skied the Luminary Loppet on Lake of the Isles the night before (an event you should not miss!) and Eli was passing literary hundreds of people as we shuffled through the throngs of skiers out enjoying the 40 degree temps and the festive atmosphere of the event. So I knew that his speed and skill on the flats was really getting pretty good, but I was worried about the hills. He usually approaches them crouched over, snowplowing, with his poles jammed out front- poking into the snow so as to keep himself under 1 mph for as long as possible. This is far different than Theo's style. That kid, if the slope even appears to be heading downhill, Theo immediatly enters into a tuck, poles clamped under his armpits and eyes wild with anticipated delight. He usually is able to deal with the fact that his 'hill' allowed him to only top out at speeds slightly faster than that off a swift turtle, but sometimes he yells out, demanding we find him a steeper hill. So far, we have declined to meet this demand. Anyway- there I was with Eli at the summit of a somewhat steep, somewhat icy hill on the back 9 at Theo Wirth. And the kid suddenly takes on this indomitable spirit. He loosens up his crouch a little, eases up on the snowplow, only sticks his poles awkwardly into the snow in front of him once or twice, then, to my utmost surprise, lets out a whoop and careens downhill. He is not bothered by the fact that just before it levels out he wipes, sliding in a circle and coming to a rest with his head pointing downhill. He untangles his long limbs from the equipment, staggers up, and strides off, looking for the next hill. As we head out into the woods he tells me, "You know Mom, I think in the last year that might have been my first real wipe out! All the times before that I kind of just toppled because I lacked confidence. I wasn't really falling." I agreed with him and became just a little worried about this new found confidence level. My worries proved justified as we hit the last hill of the day. This is a great long one that just goes and goes and can be pretty easily negotiated if you keep your feet in the tracks. He didn't. About 3/4 of the way down, right when he was topping out at quite an alarming speed, the left leg got away from him. I watched from below as the leg drifted farther and farther- knowing that the toppling point approached. And over he went. Spectacularly. But what do I hear as the dust settles? He's giggling, thrilled at the speed he had just attained and unbothered by the fact that his ski had come around and whacked him on the head, leaving a nice red welt. He was up and heading back to the car, ebullient about his new confidence and the joy of skiing. I can't wait to get out with him again.

The flagpole

Two kids in Eli's class were in charge of putting up the flag yesterday. It was cold. Really cold. And somehow an evil temptress got a hold of these kids as they were busy at their duty. No, they did not let the flag touch the ground, nope, they did something much worse- they stuck out their tongues and attempted to lick the pole. Of course they got stuck. From Eli's reports they did not receive outside help in removing themselves but had to just yank themselves free. Then returned to the class, tails between their legs. The teacher, in her ultimate wisdom, asked them if they would please stand before the rest of the crew and show everyone the damage done. I think that the rest of the class will be forever spared a similar fate.

When Eli reported this incident to me I did ask, "Now Eli, tell me, if ALL of your friends were to lick the flagpole, would you do it too?" He immedaitely assured me that he wouldn't, then asked how I thought all his friends could ever lick a flagpole at once? That little mental image has kept me smiling all day.

Thought Bubbles

Theo has a new member of his first grade class. This young man has some extra challenges. Ulla, their teacher who should be knighted for her skills and talents, took some time before he joined to give the class some hints on how to make life easy as possible with this guy. She explained that all of us have things we say out loud, and then things that we might think but that we know should stay in our 'thought bubbles'. I happened to be there as she was explaining that and thought, oh, so that's the problem I inherited from my mom. Our thought bubbles often pop and then escape through our mouths, even though we know they shouldn't. My brother Pete's thought bubbles have popped rather spectaculary a few times in the past. Ask him some day about that time the camp cook slapped him. Anyway, this kid in Theo's class has a full time aide who helps him work through his days at Expo and attempts to keep his most angry thoughts in their bubbles. From Theo's reports, things started off rough, but had been steadily getting better. But alas, this week there has been a change. He got a new aide. Change is hard for me, and I think this kid struggles with it more than most. He came into the class while I was there today and immediatly started saying that he hated school. Hated class. Hated the new aide!!! This he said right in the new aide's face- close- the thought bubble spraying her with it's debris as it popped. Ulla quietly glided by, reminding him that those things were for thought bubbles, not for saying outloud. His response: "I HATE THOUGHT BUBBLES!!!" I had to quietly smile, admiring him for naming his angst so clearly. But I didn't say anything outloud.

Loving winter

I always love winter so much more after I have been out in it. Last night as we rushed from the house to the car to the theater I was scrunched over trying to duck that bitter wind. I was a serious hater right then. But then today the sun came out and I had the afternoon off and I grabbed my skies and rushed over to Como Park. I have already pointed out that this park was clearly one of the influences in Richard Scarry's early work. Clearly. It's not just the Busytown aspect that I love- there is something that makes my heart feel bigger while I am there. It could be the excess blood that is pumping through it as I toil up the hills. Today was one of those days that can not be beat- sun, the right wax, good tracks, and just enough of a snap in the air to keep you invigorated. I just wish those two guys hadn't been looking as I went to blow my nose (cowboy style??) -got my pole between my legs and fell flat on my face. Then, while getting up tangled my arm in my headphones and nearly fell again. All at the very feet of two strapping young men who were taking a little break. Honestly, right before I came around that corner I had been flying. Gracefully. dang. Despite that little slip, I drove home in love with winter, in love with Como, in love with St. Paul. That park is a little urban jewel. And tonight we are heading down to Rice Park to check out the winter carnival ice sculptures. We did a drive by last night and the glow of the thousand lights, the sparkle of the sculptures, the hearty souls out snapping pictures, they began melting my icy attitude toward winter that I had been cultivating lately. My ski today thawed it completely. It makes me almost wish that February wasn't on the horizon. Almost.

Hope

I spent my 40th birthday rather choked up. It wasn't about fear of getting older, although I do admit that I woke up more stressed about that than I would have guessed. It was the inaugral stuff. I watched just enough TV to get filled up with hope. Then I walked away. Walked down to Expo where all 700 kids were piling out of the doors, waving little flags that they had made themselves, and attempting to line up in some semblance of order. Two retirees pulled out trumpets and we all proceeded to belt out the Star Spangled Banner. When I ran into other parents they gave spontaneous hugs- and I knew where they were coming from. And then we set off, 700+ flag waving, ridiculously pumped up Americans. Cars honked, people in local businesses smiled. It was a perfect way to spend my birthday.

And then today, two days later, Theo stopped me on the hallway stairs as I was running up to grab some laundry and he was running down on some task of his own. Stopped me by putting his two little hands on my shoulders as I stood below him on the stairs and looking me in the eye. And he says, "You know Mom, today I figured out why I'm here. It's to help others. It's not just to be alive." And off he went. I stood on the stairs in the dark, my heart bursting with the miracle that put these boys into my life. I really do think this realization of Theo's came from listening to Obama and hearing his message about reaching out, helping others, and being bigger people. yeswecan.

The fog is lifting?

Theo has been in the dumps for a while- really since school started up again in January. I think a major part of his issue was that he was so sick at the start of the break and then didn't eat well for about a month. This non-eating corresponded with growth spurt number 985, so the kid just did not have any resources. The negativity was most apparent in the morning, with many bad vibes aimed right at school. There were many things wrong with school in Theo's mind. Some fabricated, some legit. Anyway- on Tuesday I walked them down and as I was standing out by the busses watching Theo walk in with his slumped shoulders and defeated attitude (for the record, I am 97% sure that he perks up as soon as he is out of my eyesight) and my heart breaking into pieces, the principal sidled up and asked me how things were going. I told him that Theo was pretty dang grumpy about going to school and it made mornings hard. He said he'd make sure to check in with him. I thought, sure, you have a school of 700 kids, you have a crazy all school inaugural parade happening today, and you're going to remember to check in with Theo today???? Theo didn't say anything that afternoon and I didn't bring it up. But today, Thursday, Theo came bounding down the sidewalk from school with a huge smile. He chatted me up about several things and then told me, kind of bursting with pride, that the principal had called him into his office and asked him about school. Sounds like Darren (principal Yerama to some) told him straight up that he had heard that Theo was a class A grump in the morning. After he and Theo talked a little, Darren apparently told Theo that he'd check in with his teacher about making Theo's homework harder. Theo was thrilled. Thrilled. We'll see if any more action actually comes out of this, but I think the medicine has already been taken! There's no need for more.