Old Passions Resurfacing

This afternoon, we all went out to the backyard to play and eat watermelon.  Matt started playing catch with Joe.  After five or ten minutes, Joe lost interest.  I had been kicking the soccer ball with Will and Mary, but Will had decided that dribbling was more fun than passing, so off he went, while Mary went to play "school" with Emily.  I picked up Joe's much-too-small mitt and the baseball and threw the ball to Matt.
Such a simple thing.  But, just throwing back and forth seemed to make the 16 years since I last played softball evaporate.  I never played for the high school team.  My team never took state (though we competed at state).  But, softball was something I loved to do.  I loved the feel of the ball thunking securely into my mitt.  I loved the cool of an evening game after a double header in 90 plus degree heat.  I loved the peach drink that we always got at the snack bar at the ballpark, and even the weird smell of North Park.  I loved the thrill of seeing that flyball coming in my direction and knowing how to run to snag it.  Playing catch tonight with Matt reawakened all of that.  And I was relieved to see that I still could catch the ball...though my throwing accuracy is just as abismal as it used to be.  Next time I will wear sneakers and pants as opposed to flip flops and a skirt, but I will be playing catch again.  It was so fun rediscovering something that I really sincerely loved doing.
This has been the month of rediscovery. Last week, I picked up the last piece I had set out to learn before I quit my serious study of the piano in high school.  It will take me the better part of this year to be able to play it, and it won't sound as precise and crisp as it should, but it will get there.  
A few years after high school, I told my mom that my fingers were aching to play again.  And that's how it felt.  It felt like my muscles were couped up and needed to be exercised.  I asked if she ever felt like that, and she replied that her fingers never ached to play, but her heart did.  Now I know what she meant.  My fingers have long since lost the muscle tone that so desperately wanted freedom but in its place has come the dull ache of longing and regret in my heart for the thing that was such an enormous part of my time and my identity in high school.
I feel my old self reawakening.  That doesn't sound quite right.  I feel as if who I was is finally breaking through and pumping new life into the person I have become.  I still have all of my experiences and growth, but my old self is knocking on the window saying, "Hey!  Remember me?  I'm fun!"  And it has been fun.  And fulfilling.  And I've just cracked the surface.

Gold Mine

On our way to pick up Matt from the airport last Saturday, we went to visit the first gold mine established in America. 

This picture cracks me up, because all of the kids were ready, and were honestly posing with those facial expressions.

Here we go to tour the restored mine.  50 feet underground.  I am claustrophobic.  Seriously.  The first half of Mockingjay was a miserable experience thinking about them in that underground bunker.  My biggest problem is not being able to move, though, so if I have wiggle room, it's not as bad and I can get through it.  So, I did.  I survived walking through an underground mine without having a panic attack!  Force of will, baby!  We didn't get pictures because the kids were running too fast, and wouldn't sit still for a second.

At the stamp mill where they ground the rocks to extract the gold.

 Will at the stamp mill.  It was too loud so he's covering his ears.

 Killing time at the fountain, waiting for Dad's plane to arrive.

I Can't Decide!

24 years ago, my first grade teacher, Mrs. Hatch, the incomparablel, lovely and genteel Mrs. Hatch, asked her class what we wanted to do when we grew up.  As she went around the class, I thought and thought and thought.  I had a desire burning in my young girls heart, but when it was my turn, I said, "A teacher."  After all, my mom was studying to become a teacher.  Mrs. Hatch (who I've already disclosed was everything wonderful) was a teacher.  So, a teacher I would be.  That lasted through elementary school.  I had other flights of fancy; wouldn't it be amazing to write stories (which I did until junior high)?  Wouldn't it be amazing to be a concert pianist (a dream I let die during my junior year in high school when I quit my serious study of the piano).

So, on to college.  At my five year high school reunion, I got an award.  The award for the person who changed her major the most.  Quite an honor...But, it was the truth.  Anyone who knew me through that period won't be surprised in the least.  What did I want to be when I grew up?  An early childhood educator?  I got that track all set out only to realize that I was more in love with English.  So, I changed again, only to realize I really did want music to be central in my life.  Then I went back to english, then to psychology, then to humanities.  Then I decided I was going to be a lawyer.  I got an LSAT prep book and planned out the next four or so years of my life (through the end of my undergrad and then through law school).  And then, I dropped that idea.  I really honestly could not decide what career path I wanted to choose.  Since college, I have toyed with several other vocations that I'm a little embarassed to say out loud because they require skills I haven't perfected yet.  I even secretly enjoyed my years as a secretary and office manager (though the latter not as much since I worked for a weasel!).

Well, I have a secret.  And a sudden epiphany.

First, the secret.

Back to that day 24 years ago.  It's true that I said I wanted to be a teacher, but that is not what was in my little girl heart.  As the teacher went around the room, the one thing I wanted to say, and the one thing I somehow knew even then was taboo to say, the thing I truly wanted to be when I grew up was a mother.  That was it.  My adult girl heart and mind realize that in this insane world you need a marketable skill and that having one is good on so many levels.  But, be that as it may, what I always wanted to be was a mother.

The other day, as I was thinking yet again about career training and etc "Just in case" and what direction I would go, I realized something.  I am using ALL of my interests and talents and skills right now as a mother.  All of those majors that I went through, all of those career choices I played with, are all wrapped into this one, amazing, all encompassing path.  And, I mean that in a real way, and not the trite list of duties that are sometimes innumerated about motherhood. 

I am a lawyer...for the defense and the prosecution at the same time!  And if you don't think you need to know the laws backwards and forwards - Ha!  Those sneaky people are experts at finding loopholes!

I am a psychologist and therapist.  In a very real way with some of my children.  I am truly grateful for the knowledge I gained in those classes and the further reading I have done since then so that I could recognize problems and learn how to adjust.

I am a music teacher.  I now have two children learning the piano at my hands.  It's such a blessing to be able to give them that without having to sacrifice to pay. We also sing as a family.  All the music I learned in hours of singing with choirs is such a blessing in our home. 

I am a personal chef and baker.  I get to hone my skills on a captive audience!  It's only been fairly recently that I've discovered a passion for baking, but I LOVE it and I'm - hopefully - getting better all of the time.

I am an early childhood development guru!  I get to guide little ones through every stage of development and I never have to send them home!

I'm a tutor.  Actually, tutoring at the kids' school has been wonderful.  Especially the third graders.  I have really really enjoyed helping the kids who are struggling with math.  I love the lightbulb that goes on when they finally understand.

I am a literature teacher.  I get so excited to share all of my favorite books with my kids!  It takes so much patience to wait until they are old enough for certain books, but there are so many in the mean time.  Night time stories is one of my favorite times of day.

I am an author.  I was embarrassed for years to admit that I loved to write.  All through high school I staunchly maintained the position that I was not creative enough for fiction.  I mourned often in college that there wasn't a writing major  without the "creative" in front of it.  Yes, I could have gone with journalism, but, well, anyway.  Making up stories for my kids has been wonderful.  Writing stories as an outlet for emotional overload has been critical.  Writing the story of my life as a mother has been a greater joy than my first grader heart could have imagined.    Life may not be perfect, but I am so thankful for this life path that is the sum total of all of my desires and talents and dreams.

GO FAR

Joe joined a running club a few months ago called "GO FAR: go out for a run"

They ran after school twice a week, training for a 5k road race that was this morning.

In crowds it sure is convenient to be married to the tallest person there.

Joe waving before the race began.

I lost Will. 

Right after we met up with Matt and Joe after the race, Matt went to pick something up, I went to follow Joe, and Will went his own way.  After a minute I did a head count and my stomach dropped.  There were easily several thousand people milling around the two block area.  I bunched the other four around the stroller and took off to look for Will and find Matt.  Again, in a crowd it is really convenient to be married to the tallest person there.  After the five longest minutes of my life, I saw Matt holding Will (I was with the girls and Ben).  It was only five minutes, but it felt like an eternity!

The family after the race, and after finding Will.

Joe did so well.  I'm so proud of him!!

The Good Earth

So, the heat may have fried my brain, but the last two mornings have been really pleasant.   Being shielded from the elements is certainly nice, and I will definitely appreciate having our AC back, but there was something lovely about the last two mornings.  We got several fans and strategically placed them around the house.  The familiar hum triggered so many memories!  How many hours did I spend sitting in front of a fan during the summer?  Waiting for the oscillating fan to come back to my part of the room - or, more often, following it around as often as I could get away with it before my brothers started yelling for me to get out of the way. 
The fans actually did a good job last night.  The house wasn't exactly cool, but it was bearable and almost pleasant after the swelter of the day.  The feeling of waking up with the windows open and fresh morning air blowing in accompanied by the sounds of the waking world brought back so many wonderful summer mornings.  It brought back the feeling memories of childhood and summer vacation of being able to linger in bed for just a few delicious minutes and ease into the day.  The contrast is different than I thought it would be.  Perhaps my world is too anticeptic,  too controlled.  But, then again, it's going to be mid eighties today with way too much humidity.  This peaceful, lovely morning is going to give way to the stifling afternoon and I will once again realize that au natural isn't exactly idealic.  We will get the ac guy in as soon as possible.  But, this morning I will cling to the traces of my childhood blown in on the pleasant morning breeze.

Not a Pioneer

It is currently 79 degrees here, and with 62 percent humidity.  It has  been steadily dropping since it hit 95 degrees this afternoon.  This was the second day in a row to break 90, and it is the first week of May.  Insane!  Well, right now, it is 83 degrees inside my house.  Downstairs.  Upstairs it is a nice cozy 85 degrees.  We are out of freone.  Ugh!  And thanks to the EPA, Matt can't just get freone and put it in.  We have to hire a professional.  I suppose I can kind of understand (people aren't exactly always responsible and...wise), but it is still frustrating. 
Today we have been going old school.  Except that we got to escape twice into the beautiful coolness of the minivan.  I always whine about having to drive two hours a day minimum, but I must say that was a blessing today!  I honestly, truly do not know how people survived Southern summers without AC.  I really really don't.  Sure, in the desert it tops 100 degrees frequently, but you can at least escape it.  Get a little piece of shade, open the windows in the mornings, or use a swamp cooler here and there.  (I'm not counting Arizona in this, because Arizona is just a crazy place.  120 degrees is just inhumane!)  But, you just can't escape the heat here.  The humidity (which later tonight is supposed to reach around 85%) is like a thick pair of footed pajamas that you can't take off.  It follows you everywhere and relentlessly pushes the heat onto you.
We took cool baths, escaped to the minivan, took a trip to the local MonsterMart so the kids could spend their allowance at a happy temperature, and made paper fans.  I discovered that when you fold the fan diagonally, it works much much better.  It looks like a pointed leaf and it feels lovely.  We spent the evening fanning ourselves and watching a movie.  Now, sticky from a day of sweat, we are going to attempt to sleep tonight.  Matt is back off to MonsterMart to buy fans for the rooms, and we have the windows open (which we NEVER do because of the insane humidity).  Hopefully we can get a technician in tomorrow to refill our freone and we will be back to 21st century, technologically induced bliss!

Back Story

I asked Emily how school was the other day, and her response was, "I don't even want to get into that backstory!"
Tonight, however, she was more than willing to share the backstory of the strawberry nightgown and the broken screen in her bedroom.  "Backstory."  Sheesh.  I think I can attribute that to Phineas and Ferb.