Thank You ... I Think

On most nights Jake requires someone to dress him in his pajamas. He does not need help getting dressed, mind you. He just doesn't want to do it himself. (This trait applies to butt wiping too, but I won't go into that.)

So once again tonight, I was helping Jake into his pajamas when I said, "Jacob, I hope you marry a complacent woman."

To which he replied, "Just like you Mama."

I'm not sure if that's a compliment or an insult.

My Hero

Bryon's birthday was Monday and like always, I fretted over what to get him. I think I've picked some great presents in the past (BBQ tools, cookbooks, grill accessories, Tivo), but he's not the most effusive gift receiver (sorry Bryon) so it's hard to tell if he likes something.

Once again this year I thought I had perfect ideas. He'd been complaining about our Calphalon and I found a set on sale at the Crate and Barrel outlet. He'd been asking for recent photos of the kids for his office so I framed some of our latest and greatest - Sam in his baseball uniform, Jake in a formal photo from school, and Abby from her dance recital. And lastly, I loaded the digital picture frame he got for Father's Day so he can finally use it.

Despite all that, there wasn't the unexpected WOW gift. Something he'd like but never buy himself. I decided that would be Guitar Hero.

You see a week ago, on our east Texas vacation, the resort's arcade had Guitar Hero and one evening while Abby (yes Abby) "played" video games I stood and watched several boys expertly play Guitar Hero. I SO wanted to play. (I'll make a confession here that I feel the same about Dance Dance Revolution. I should get it to play at home because I am too embarrassed to try it in public.)

So the cherry-on-the-top gift for Bryon's birthday was Guitar Hero. Partly because I thought he'd like it. Mostly because I REALLY wanted to play.

And play I have. And I am GOOD. It is honestly the most fun I've had in a long time. I created my own avatar - a bitchy, punky leatherette named Ember - and I am slowly working my way through the set list. Tonight I might even get out the black leather Harley Davidson jacket I bought during a weird college phase and play some Metallica.

Three's Company

So we spent last week at a resort in east Texas vacationing with Bryon's family. It had all the elements of a great vacation for kids - family, warm weather, swimming, lakes, boats, BBQ, mini golf, ice cream sandwiches, checkers, puzzles, a family of stray cats under our porch. I missed many photo opportunities over the week, but the day before we left, I snapped this photo of Sam, Jake and Abby poolside. I like this picture because I think it represents not only the vacation but our family on any given day.

See, if you look at the photo there's Abby - Miss Roll With the Punches, Miss Happy Go Lucky. And similarly, there's Sam. Where Abby is sugar and spice, Sam is snips and snails and puppy dog tails. And then there's Jake, arms crossed, frowning. Not that he's always the grouchy one, but at any given time someone is cross. Occasionally everyone is in a good mood. When that happens, it is giddy. It is buoyant. But it's kind of like watching lightning bugs at dusk - the second you see one it's gone, re-appearing a few feet away but leaving a small glow that you can see even when you close your eyes.

Melt

I have this memory from high school, maybe college, of sitting in a Sunday church service and watching a family a few pews ahead of us. A mom, dad and two young boys, maybe 2 and 4. Those boys loved their mom. They stroked her hair, held her hand. And I sat there and thought, "That's what I want. Boys." Boys seemed to have such a tender love for their moms. I thought of the relationship between a daughter and mother as much more emotional - like a bomb wrapped in a pink ribbon.

Fast forward many years and I got my wish. Boys. Jake can be quite cuddly but he's a lot like a porcupine. They are darn cute but don't get too close unless you know exactly how to handle one. Sam still grabs for my hand when we walk together. I think he, much like my nephew John Wyatt, who at nearly 15 would still sit in his mom's lap if he wasn't taller and heavier than she is, will always be willing to cuddle.

And then there's Abby. She never passes up an opportunity to sit in your lap. If you are nearby she's stroking your face, patting your back or curling her arms and legs into yours. It's even better as she gets older and talks more. Now she can tell you how much she loves you.

Like last night. I was putting her to bed, lying next to her, patting her back, when she turned and put her little hands on my cheeks and said, "You're my sweet girl." I truly thought my heart would burst.

Summertime Blues

I will be the first to admit that I'm thrown off this summer. Without Sam's school schedule to motivate us, there is no hard and fast schedule to our days. Plus, I'm not very creative when it comes to summertime activities. I may be if it weren't 105 degrees outside but it is. And when it's that hot, you either want to be inside, where it's cool, or en route to somewhere where you'll be inside and cool. So needless to say we've been spending a lot of time inside. All day. All weekend.

On one hand I think it's good for the kids. I think boredom can stoke imagination and lead to creativity. On the other hand, I'm sure they aren't getting the physical exercise they need. Unless destroying my couch and injuring each other with light sabers counts.

But late yesterday I realized we had probably reached the apex of boredom when Jake came screaming through the kitchen naked while Sam, also naked, chased him with the beaters from my electric mixer. I don't know what they were doing. I don't want to know. Although they were having fun, I quickly ended the activity.

And the beaters went right in the dishwasher.