Sugar and Spice

When I was a kid I used to like looking through the J.C. Penney catalog and marking the items I liked. It was how we shopped for everything from back-to-school clothes to bedroom furniture to Christmas presents. It is such a fond memory for me that I was nearly in tears when I recently found the 1980 Penney Christmas catalog online. I remember this catalog. I remember the cover, and I certainly remember many of the clothes and toys inside.

I'm not sure my kids would even know what a catalog is. But Abby has found something similar. She likes to click through Google images. She'll pick a topic, and look at the thousands of photos Google returns. This week she started with wolves and Boxer puppies and yesterday it was clothes. She was clicking through sundresses and shorts when she found a photo of a denim shirt and skirt. It wasn't exactly cute - stonewashed, with laces up the sides and back - imagine rodeo queen meets dominatrix.

"Now this," she said. "This would be perfect for next summer. Can we keep an eye out for this?"

"Yes, we can try to find an outfit like that before the summer," I told her (lying through my teeth).

"But I want it in leather."

A Portrait of the Young Man As an Artist

The kids and I have often debate who has it better, adults or kids. They, of course, think it would be better to be grown up, to get a pay check, make your own choices. They believe adulthood is full of money and freedom and chocolate and late bedtimes. I argue it's pretty great to be a kid. If you're lucky, someone takes care of your basic necessities, and all you really have to do, when it comes down to it, is go to school. I apparently think being is kid is nothing but recess and art class and pep assemblies. We both may be right, but we're both wrong too.

Sure, I'd like to be a sixth grader again, but I'd like to be in the sixth grade of my youth. The one where summers were free, everybody played soft ball, bullies were rare, and algebra waited until high school. Being a kid these days is no cake walk. Their homework is more advanced, their academic life is stressful, and their hobbies are more diverse and demanding.

Case in point ... Last weekend Bryon, Jake and Abby went camping, and I was really looking forward to my time alone with Sam. But the weekend I envisioned - movies, coffee, shopping, the book store, sleeping in - wasn't the weekend we had, mostly because Sam is a busy kid. In fewer than 30 hours he had a three-hour choir rehearsal, a band performance at a bar, a 7:30 a.m. choir performance, confirmation and acolyting. Me? My weekend involved a lot of driving, listening to music and drinking bellinis.

So, sure, being a kid sounds good, but when it comes down to it, I'm not sure many of us adults could handle it.

Resolute

On January 1, 2013, I vowed to take vitamins, walk, drink water, read, cook, stop picking my nails, shop less, practice patience, and travel. Re-reading that post I feel simultaneously defeated and relieved. Defeated because I didn't follow through on most of my resolutions. In fact, if I would write a detailed post about this year's resolutions, the list would be quite the same, but relieved because, in the scheme of things, it just proves it doesn't matter a whole lot.

Not that I recommend abandoning resolutions, but my resolutions tend to be proverbial drops in a largely trivial bucket. I did stop picking my nails for awhile and I loved them. I started again when the school year got stressful. I did take vitamins most of the year, until my doctor told me to stop. Some resolutions stuck, some didn't. C'est la vie.

But my biggest issue with resolutions is that making them and trying to stick to them and maybe failing to meet them becomes a marker for that year. A grade. I didn't follow through on my resolutions. I failed.

And that's just not true. Last year I got to see Abby graduate from kindergarten with excellent grades and commendations from her teachers. Jake moved to a new campus and was commended for his grades and accomplishments in Spanish. We adopted two kittens. Sam was a state finalist in the Texas PTA Reflections program. I got to sit with my mom and sister and watch the boys play and sing in their band. All the kids acted in a summer camp production of Peter Pan. Sam learned how to build robots out of old toothbrushes. Abby learned to read. I got up at 3 a.m. one August morning to send Sam off on his first week long sleep away camp. Abby learned to rock climb and Zip line during Y-Guides camp with her dad. We took a week-long family vacation. I jet-skied. Jake skipped three levels of hockey in as many months and can now skate like a boss. Sam performed in the Dallas Opera and on stage at the symphony - twice. I read 26 books. I started my third year of teaching Sunday School. Abby started ice skating.

It may not be the 'success' I envisioned in January 2013, but in January 2014, I'll certainly take it.

To Abby, On Her 7th Birthday

To quote Ben Folds ...

And where was I before the day
That I first saw your lovely face?
Now I see it everyday
And I know
That I am the luckiest

Love you little mama.

In Her Own Words

I think Abby's birthday was a success. Donuts for breakfast, lunch with mom, shopping with Dad (who surrendered his American Express card for a fringey blue party dress, sparkly blue tights and twinkly blue shoes), a rousing game of Headbanz with her brothers, and finally a fancy dinner out with dad. At bedtime we cuddled up to read a book of her choice, which unfortunately was the 1961 classic "Life, Love and Sex." 

But before she went to bed I asked for Abby's memories of the day because, no matter how I try to instill happy memories in them, they are going to remember what they remember. 

So, without further ado, is Abby's birthday, according to Abby:

When mom came in, I wasn't really dreaming about anything ... I woke up because I knew it was my birthday. I turned over and looked and there was my mom and she said she'd carry me downstairs or I could have five more minutes so I chose five more minutes because it was my birthday. Mom woke me up by calling my name and rubbing my back. She carried me downstairs and there was a donut with a candle in it and my mom and brothers sang to me. 

On the way to school my mom found a silly song on the radio and sang really loud about my birthday. When everybody was at school they did announcements and I got to go to the office and get my birthday pencil.

At lunchtime I didn't have a lunch but my mom showed up. She had a sandwich. I ate a cheeseburger and ice cream. I went back to class and did some work. I had to go to the office for a Band-Aid. My dad showed up to take me shopping. We went to the mall. We ate some candy. We ate Jamba Juice and bought clothes. When I got home everybody was celebrating. I opened my presents. I got a lot of things I wanted. I played with my FlutterBye fairy and Headbanz with my brothers. I went on a date with my dad. We ate pizza. They say happy birthday and gave me more presents. I came home and had cookies and watched TV. My birthday was fantastic. Next year I want a puppy. I liked that everyone was together and no one threw a fit. I didn't like that Jake was throwing a fit. 

I think my birthday was the best ever because my dad picked me up early and my mom had lunch with me and it was just the best time ever. 

This Year I Resolve To ...

Tomorrow is Abby's birthday, and I'm not sure I have ever known anyone as excited about an impending birthday as Abby. She's been counting down for months. She tells anyone who will listen that she is about to be 7. She has planned and re-planned her party, her invitations and her wish list. She wanted to send out invitations before we'd even picked a day or place to celebrate. But, that's the funny thing about birthdays, even if you don't plan for them, they come around, and now I find myself woefully unprepared for the celebration she expects tomorrow.

The only thing I am certain will happen is that Bryon will pick her up early from school so they can celebrate together. It's his tradition with all the kids; on their birthdays he picks them up early from school for a movie or dinner or, in Abby's case, shopping. The kids look forward to it, partly because they love one-on-one time, but also because it seems slightly sneaky. On one of Sam's birthdays, he and Bryon were at the mall about to see a movie when they ran into Sam's band director and his school's band about to perform a holiday concert. Sam said he was mortified (and terrified) but I think he was secretly thrilled.

The kids love the birthday date with their dad. I am secretly (not so secretly now) resentful and envious.

Bryon does his share around here but it is me who packs the school lunches, takes the kids to and from school, cleans their rooms, reads to them, watches Disney TV, takes them to lessons, double checks their homework, maintains their reading logs, volunteers at their schools, writes the school newsletter, serves on the PTA board, coordinates holiday parties, prunes the community garden, refurbishes the teacher's lounge, teaches their Sunday school class, chaperones field trips and choir rehearsals. Not to mention paints toenails, schedules the dentist and doctor and allergist and orthodontist appointments, brushes hair, nurses scrapes, cleans up vomit, feeds the fish, cleans up after Odis, Guthrie, Folsom, Tag the Dog and Chuck Norris the Guinea Pig.

But I think if, years from now, you ask them one of their favorite things of childhood, they'll say the birthday date with dad.

Which leads to me to one of my new year's resolutions .... I'm going to say no. No to volunteer opportunities, no to cookie sales. No to things that stretch me thin and make me bitter and worrisome. No to worrying about disorganized closets and pantries. No to waking up at 3 a.m. to fret over that day's to-do list.

If Bryon's birthday date proves anything it's that when it comes to time with your kids, quality matters so much more than quantity. So that's my resolution, to live this year qualitatively.

Another Year Over and a New One Just Begun

So even though it's already January 6, I consider today the beginning of our new year. Today is the first day back at school, the day the rubber meets the road, the excrement hits the fan. Fortunately, our morning was largely uneventful, mostly because of the military-style drill we went through last night to ensure everyone had uniforms, coats, gloves, socks, underpants, backpacks, homework and reading lists at the ready. No matter how many times you practice, however, you can't plan for the grumpies. And boy, did I have grumpy kids this morning.

And despite my relief that everyone is back in school, I do find myself wondering - how many days until spring break? (63)