Summer is Here

 I know that summer is not officially here, but as far as I am concerned it started yesterday - so far it has been a beautiful beginning of soft rain and clouds.  Those sorts of days nourish my soul that is already dreading the hot dry days of July and August.  I already dread giving up two weeks to AP training. I dread the never ending math flashcards that will be the bane of Bell's existence.  I don't even want to think about school supplies. 

As always I have a monstrous list of projects for the summer - Jack and I are going to try to paint my classroom (more on that later - for now, think of super heroes with famous authors' faces) and I have some holiday presents I need to start now.  But what I really want to do right now is dig in the dirt.  Today should have been church and then dinner with my family and grandparents, but Bell woke up throwing up this morning so we are home folks.  Instead I harvested the broccoli and pulled up the plants. I eyeballed my baby squash plants - some will be ready by weekend.  I got some fennel bulbs in the ground for the butterflies and staked up some pepper plants that are already bent over with peppers.  Jack will have to help me put up the big wires to hold up the tomatoes this week - they have loved the rain and are already big.  I started my pumpkin seeds today - should have done it a week ago, but my brain just doesn't function the last week of school.  While it drizzled, I poked around in the flower beds and was glad to see that a lot of Jack's grandma's lilies will bloom this year as opposed to only 2 last year.  

Really, I just wanted to be outside all day, but it seems a bit neglectful to leave a sick kid in the house alone.  For now, I will think of salsa that will be around the corner, squash on the grill speckled with herbs and butter, evenings under the tree looking at the lake.  For now, I will enjoy the clouds and the cool and be thankful for the break.

Mothering

Mothers Day is such a made up consumer holiday.  And just like Valentines Day, I do not care a bit if Jack and Bell got me a thing.  On the other hand, I would not to want to hurt my own Mother's feelings or Rubilee's either, so every year I try to do something little for them.  This year it was just hanging baskets of flowers, though I threatened to not give Rubilee hers.

The thing is, as much as I love my mother in law, she does make me a bit batty at times.  Last week she was so impressed with a politician who visited with her, that she gave the woman my phone number so she could pester me too.  Now, I feel pretty strongly about this year's election.  If there aren't some changes in Oklahoma on several fronts, I am going to start agreeing with Jack that we need to move to Canada.  Or a deserted island.  Mars.  Anywhere.   So yes, I want to learn about this politician, but not when I have a headache and just want to sleep.  Nevertheless, Rubilee did get her flowers, as did my mama.  I have just left the phone unplugged.  Even if I would never give her phone number to a politician, I do love my mother-in-law dearly.  I am not sure she knows what to do with a daughter-in-law who lives next door after only raising sons, but I have come to love her sense of humor, her kindness, her stories.  In truth, I spend much more time with her than I do with  my own mother.  My mama has to spread her attention across a tribe of children and grandchildren and doesn't particularly need me right now.  Rubilee, though, just needs us to be here, to fill in the gaps.

As far as my own mothering abilities go, I am feeling pretty inefectual these days.  I can't seem to convince Isabella that there is life beyond youtube and minecraft, so I am just having to play the bad cop and seriously limit her screen time.  Her answer is to just lie on the couch doing nothing.  I just want to poke her with a stick until she gets up to come outside and do something with me.   I think she is depressed - she came home crying yesterday.  Her only really good friend is moving today and once again, she will be alone.  (Last year's best friend moved over last summer.) Add this to a run in with some mean girls last week, and I wish I could fix this ache the way I can a scraped knee.  I  would like to promise her that it will get better, but it may be a long time before a kid moves to Elgin who matches her oddities. I remember a very lonely 3rd grade year of my own when my only friend moved to Alaska.  I really didn't have super close friends again for a few years.  I really can't think of anything my mom was able to do for me to make life bearable.  I think that is when I learned to live in the world of books - mama would have been busy with a new baby and a 3 year old, so I spent downtime on the prairie with Laura Ingalls or on Klickitat street with Ramona Quimby.  I will for sure be taking Bell to the library a lot this summer.  Already, she is in love with the Overdrive library ap on my ipad and most of my allotted check outs are her books.

As I contemplate Mother's Day (albeit a bit late), I just want the wisdom to raise a Godly daughter who finds a peace within, who is kind, who gives selflessly.  I want to raise her to be the kind of woman that my mother is, that Rubilee is, that my grandmother is.  I want her to be strong and independent but with the grace to bend without breaking.  That means I have to get better at walking in grace, at patience, at firmness tempered with gentleness.  That could be a long haul.

Rainbows, Picnic Tables, and Hand Holding - No Apologies Allowed

Last night in a brief moment of aloneness, Jack apologized for not being much fun this week.  He wasn't feeling great, all achey like he was getting the flu and not being romantic or at all friendly.

The thing is, he doesn't have to be Don Juan all the time.  He may still make my heart go pitter patter when he kisses me, but it is also deeply satisfying to simply know he is home, to have him go to sleep holding my hand or rubbing my foot with his.  I know, we are still sappy.

It is funny that he should apologize.  Tuesday, I started the day by hitting a deer on the way to school - the Juke is not so pretty now.   I went straight from school to get my hair cut and colored (I am posing as a red head this month) and from there straight to a friend's house for a girls gathering - the kind with talk and food and talk and margaritas and talk and brownies and more margaritas and more talk.  That meant he was on single parent duty until after the kid was out for the night.  I managed miss dinner and clean up.

When I opened the coffee cup side of the cabinet the next morning, my coffee cup that I have been using since the day after we got married was missing.  Instead there were these small rainbows of coffee cups.  I am a bit dense until after a shower and coffee.  I was mostly stymied at where my cup had gone rather than curious about the arrival of new dishes.  So I went to the next cabinet to see if we still had plates and bowls.  Nope.  Rainbows there too. Dense. Dense.  Then I realized the Fiestaware fairy had visited.  It was all I could do to not be a 5 year old at Christmas, running to jump on the bed and say "Get up, Get up! Look what has come!"  But  the Fiestaware fairy might have wanted his sleep and so I left him in peace.          
 
There was not a better way to begin my day - I was expecting not anger, but at least annoyance about the car.  I was certainly not expecting a cabinet  full of beautiful things that I have wanted since I was in high school.  About the car, all I got was a hug and an assurance that he could probably fix it himself.


Jack didn't stop at dishes this week.  He took all the old rotten wood off his grandpa's picnic table, painted the frame bright red at my request, and put new clean, smooth boards on it.  He has bought 2 toilet seats to replace my broken one (Home Depot has problem with labels - niether fits).  I have no idea what all he has worked on today.  But he mentioned some tiki torches for the backyard and putting in emiters on my drip line in garden and working at shop today.  We hope some college friends are coming for a visit at the end of the month and we are busy doing those yard things that need doing before company comes.

The man of the house has been making time for the kid too.  There have been a few nights of rock parties and sword fighting until bedtime.  Last night he was on comfort duty since she was all sad about her friend moving. Friday  is air bed night - that means he has his weekly camp out with Bella in the living room and they watch weird cartoons.

It is funny that he apologizes when there is nothingn to apologize for.  Men who don't love their wives or make time for their kids should apologize, not the man who brings comfort and joy, not the man who works all week to make life a bit sweeter at home, and certainly not the man who fell asleep holding my hand after I had messed up his car that  morning.
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