Birthday Bash

Today was Mike's 48th birthday - not a monumental birthday. Well, I guess every year that a man lives without his spouse killing him is monumental in its own way. You would think that after being married for 24 years, it would be easy to buy him the perfect birthday gift. Wrong! He is the most difficult person I know to find a gift for. This is because he beats any woman I know at the shopping thing. If he wants something, he buys it. Since he travels so much, I have no idea what he has bought.

This year I put all of my creative energy into picking out the perfect card. You know, one of those with a perfect sentiment, one that reflects my deep feelings for him, one that upon reading he would know it was from me because no one else could possibly feel that way about him. On the front it read, "It's your birthday, and, well, I'm afraid I have some bad news . . ."

What kind of news would be bad for a 48 year old man?

• I'm pregnant.
• You are going to be a grandfather . . .and your daughter is only 14!
• The cashier at Denny's just gave you the senior citizen's discount.
• You are too old to shop at Old Navy.
• I am ready to accept the "I'm too old for that." excuse.
• The Jay Leno Show is on past your bedtime.
• Now when you drive around in a sleek little sports car, rather than being whistled at, the woman will all yell, "mid-life crisis!"

All of these may be true, but the card said, "Apparently sucking in your gut like that has blown the hair off the top of your head."

The truth hurts some times. Well maybe it is not one of those sentimental cards. Do people really send those? According to my children, only grandparents send "that kind" of card - the ones with some sweet-as-sugar sentiment in some elegant font perfectly placed amidst the arranged pastel flowers. If you actually read the words you know that the person who sent it does not know you very well at all. If anyone in my family ever gave me one of those cards, I would know that I was dying or something. It just would not happen. It is simply inappropriate. At our house, love is expressed through sarcasm and bad taste.

Last night, I did bake him a spice cake from scratch, at his request. I even let him lick the bowl. When asked if he wanted the cake frosted, Mike said that he would rather have a dusting of powdered sugar. That makes it easy. The cake was sitting on the stove waiting for us to return from the casino, another wish of the birthday boy, to open presents and have dessert. On the way out the door, I noticed that someone had sampled it already. Unfortunately, that someone is black, has four legs, and does not have any experience with knives. Adidas helped himself to many bites out of the center of the cake. He created an indentation that looked like the outline of the United States. Had I been frosting the cake, I could have hidden his artwork, but powdered sugar just accentuated the North American shaped crater. I tried to do something nice; I really did. The dog just wasn't on my side! Maybe Adidas was mad because he did not get to lick the bowl.

Do you think that if I had picked out a nice mushy card, the atmosphere would have been a little different and the dog would have sensed that a canine sculpted cake just would not do for an occasion that required a card with pastel flowers and a curly font?

I will never know.

Sad State Of Affairs

Over the past few weeks BK has been designing a baby bootie pattern in multiple sizes for the next issue of Spirit of Knitting. Because none of us has a recent memory of the real size of those tiny feet that babies come with, BK has been accosting mothers and babies in nearly every public place we have visited in the last week asking to borrow the babies' feet to try the booties. Though the pattern is done and the booties are knit, she is still scoping out babies.

This evening on our way back from Austin we stopped about an hour and a half away from home for dinner. There was a family with two small children. a girl about 3 and a baby boy about 9 months, seated at the table next to us. The baby kept smiling at BK. Once he was bored with that, he decided he was going to crawl out of his seat - a booster seat. We all knew that that was going to come to no good; however, we did not expect the "no good" that came.

In an instant, the booster chair slipped and the baby fell flat on his back onto a concrete floor and hit his head. His daddy jumped to pick him up. All I could think at that moment was Cry. Please cry! I have always heard that when babies don't cry quickly after a fall that the situation is not good. He did begin to cry. It seemed like it took forever but it was probably only a few seconds.

The parents took the crying baby outside. They returned a few minutes later and he had stopped crying. None of the staff at the restaurant seemed overly concerned. The parents were much calmer than I would have been if it were my child. I did hear the father ask if they had any Tylenol in the diaper bag. Mom gave him a dropper full.

There were three of us eating together, one of whom had been a nurse. She went over and asked if she could help; she looked at the baby and did not see anything immediately that was cause for alarm though she suggested that they take the baby to the hospital to be checked out just in case. They agreed and asked where the closest hospital was. They too were traveling and did not know the immediate area well. The closest hospital was about 30 miles away.

They asked that their dinner be brought to go. We asked our waitress if the manager had filled out an incident report. She was not the sharpest tool in the shed and it took a few seconds for her to figure out what we were even talking about. In a few minutes another woman, who did not look like she commanded much authority, came over and scribbled the people's name down on a piece of paper. I don't think that she was taking the whole thing very seriously.

The deal is, that these parents who were about to take this child with a head injury to the emergency room needed all the documentation that they could get because in this society, they are going to be treated as guilty of child abuse until proven innocent. By law, medical professionals are required to report incidents of this type of injury to CPS.

We were all sitting at the table knowing what kind of hell these people will probably have to endure. We did not want to say too much about this because we did not want to scare them so much that they would be afraid to take the baby to the hospital. We did give them our contact information and ask that they phone us and let us know how the baby was doing. Deep down, we knew we were giving them the information in case they needed us to tell the authorities what happened.

I realize that cases of child abuse and neglect occur way more often than any of us likes to think. Just last week there was an incident in Dallas where a toddler fell down some steps. His mother put a Popsicle on his head, went back to sleep, and woke to find her child dead. But, there has to be some way to deal with cases in a way where we don't assume that everyone is guilty.

I pray that the little boy we met tonight is OK. And, I pray that his family does not have to endure an investigation by CPS. I hate the fact that this is what the world has come to. This whole scenario has a level of paranoia to it that really makes me uncomfortable. I trust that this little boy was taken to the hospital to receive proper medical attention but I wonder how many children don't get medical help when they need it because their parents are scared of what might happen to them. Have we not created another problem with equally significant ill effects?

I guess it is better to be safe than sorry but I have to admit that I am glad that I am not the one having to convince the ER staff that the head injury that my child suffered really is from falling from a booster chair.

What's For Dinner?

"What's for dinner?" is a loaded question at my house. No matter what the answer, someone is going to roll their eyes and give me "that face". When Offspring #1. is a vegan and Offspring #2 is a carnivore, there is no way to please everyone. Husband leans more toward the carnivore side but sometimes it is possible to sneak in a vegetable or two. In an effort not to starve anyone on a regular basis (some nights one or the other resorts to cereal), we have "assemble your own dinner" meals - taco salad is a great example of this. You want meat? Have meat. If you don't, have beans. The choice is yours. However, even I get tired of taco salad and I am willing to alternate between the meat version and the beans version and call it two different meals Because of these incompatible eating habits, there are nights when we do not all eat at the same time, though most nights we do all sit down at the table together.

Tonight I managed to create a meal that everyone, including the dogs, was happy with. The current issue of Woman's Day magazine contains a recipe for Asian lettuce wraps. They are made with ground beef seasoned with Asian spices and brown rice. I know, you are wondering how this pleased the vegan. She wanted me to make zucchini "hash browns" (shredded zucchini that is seasoned and cooked in a skillet as you would hash brown potatoes). She substituted the zucchini for the meat in her wraps and the rest of us, minus Offspring #2, ate it as a side dish. We also had an awesome loaf of homemade (by Offspring #1) sourdough bread. George Bush would be so impressed with our family mealtime - not our conversation, just that we were all here together.

We all sat down together and everyone was happy with what was on the table. What a feeling. There were no real leftovers to speak of - a spoonful each of the meat, the rice and the zucchini. I mixed it all together and gave it to the dogs. They too were licking their chops, and the empty plates as I placed them in the dishwasher.

This seems like such a simple accomplishment, and it may be, but it rarely happens around here so I am celebrating!

I am leaving for an overnight trip tomorrow. I am sure they will all resort to cereal and other random culinary combinations that may or may not contain any nutritional value. But hey, I am not the responsible adult for approximately 36 hours. Anyone can live on cereal for that little time and not suffer any long term effects.

Bad Mother

Okay, I have done it this time. I am no longer a candidate for Mother of the Year. All my chances gone in a mere 24 hour period.

I know that parenthood is not easy and that we all make mistakes. For the most part, it has been fun and not too painful for me. I know that I am extremely lucky that my kids have rebelled by being a blue-haired salutatorian and a stage diva who sometimes masquerades as a math genius. Believe me, I know that things could be much worse.

That said, I must now confess my two great parental failings of the last 24 hours.

FAILURE #1 Last night, Erin wanted to go to the movies with a friend, a girl. The girl wanted to go to the movies with friends, Erin and a boy. Erin was okay with being the third wheel. The problem is that for religious reasons the girl is not permitted to date. So, Erin was a distraction so that the girl's parents did not know that she was going to the movies with a boy. Every bit of this I knew as we strolled into the theatre. I played along. Should I have done that? Have I betrayed the parental tribe? Should I have said something to the girl's mother?

I am grateful that Erin felt that she could share with me what was really going on. Though I don't condone lying or sneaking around behind your parent's back, (I know, I know, actions speak louder than words. But I can explain!) I felt like this situation was relatively benign and tattling would cause much more trouble than it was worth.

The kids, Erin, girl, and boy, were waiting in the lobby of the theater when we came out of our movie. Erin and the girl walked out with us. Boy went out a side entrance because girl's mother was waiting out front.

As we were leaving the parking lot, Erin got a panicked phone call from boy because he was afraid that girl's mother had seen him. What was he going to do if she got in trouble? It is nice to know he has a conscience. In trying to escape the theater through a back entrance, he also got lost. Erin was on the phone with a panicked, lost boy trying to give him instructions to get home. I felt sorry for him. I found myself giving Erin all kinds of scenarios that would account for boy's presence at the movies - none of which included meeting the girl. I was teaching my daughter how to lie! What was I thinking?

Truthfully, what I was thinking is that I am glad that my kids tell me the truth and that their lives are not governed but such strict rules that they feel it necessary to lie about what they are doing. As it turned out, no one got in trouble. Girl's mother did not know that girl met boy at the movie. That is our secret.

FAILURE #2 For several months, Brooke has been making noise about going to the beach for a week with four other girls who graduated last May. My first thought was over my dead body. But, I refrained from immediately responding that way. I simply said that I did not think that such a trip was a good idea. In typical teen aged fashion she came back with the proverbial WHY NOT!! Let me count the ways:

1. You swore off the beach when you came home from that 7th grade trip with second degree burns from sunburn.
2. You have not seen any of these girls this summer and you have never socialized with them, never, outside of required school activities.
3. You have very little in common with them.
4. You don't own a bathing suit.
5. Chasing boys is not your favorite hobby.
6. I don't trust a couple of them.
7. I don't want you driving 9 hours
8. I don't want you driving 9 hours.
9. I don't want you driving 9 hours.
10. I just don't think this trip is a good idea. (This is based on mother's intuition but I knew that wouldn't fly so I kept that thought to myself.)

Brooke actually agreed with points 1-5 but said that none of that really mattered. As to point 6, she said that I did not have to trust them; I had to trust her. The deal is, I do trust her but I really don't trust them. Brooke reminded me that in a few months I was sending her to Chicago where I would not be able to choose her friends or mandate her comings and goings. True, but that is different. (Give me a minute and I will figure out how.) To points 7-9 she assured me that none of them has ever had a wreck. To which I replied, "there is a first time for everything." I found myself relying heavily on my gut feeling that this trip was just not a good idea.

I don't think I have failed as a parent so far. Here it comes.

In the past week Brooke has misplaced/lost her Ipod. She has the same kind of relationship with her Ipod that a toddler has with a blanket or a favorite stuffed toy - they are nearly inseparable. After we all tore apart the house looking for it, I told her that I guessed she was going to have to buy herself a new one. Through a voice much like that of a whiny toddler, she said, "I don't want to spend my money on a new Ipod. I want you to buy me a new one." Yeah right. You have graduation money. You buy it.

Then the bad parent gene kicked in. I have a solution to both of our problems. I told her that if she would agree not to go to the beach, I would buy her a new Ipod. Without hesitating, she said, "Deal!" I have probably been had because I honestly think that when it came time to really make the trip, she would have backed out. But this way, I don't have to worry anymore. We are both happy. Brooke will have a new Ipod and I will not have to worry about her on that trip. That is enough for me. To hell with the Mother of the Year thing . . .

No Mistakes

I just got home from seeing the movie Evening with Meryl Streep and Vanessa Redgrave, as well as a host of other fine actors. The screenplay is based on the book, of the same name, by Susan Minot. Michael Cunningham, author of The Hours was also involved in the screenplay. This movie probably falls into the category of "chick flick" but not in the same way as most that earn this designation. It is not a boy meets girl, they fall in love, and live happily ever after movie. Rather, it is a film that, if you really watch it, asks some difficult questions.

Without giving away the entire plot, because I recommend that you see it, I will say that the overarching message is that there are no mistakes in life. For the hour or so since I left the theater, I have been pondering this.

Really? There are NO mistakes in life? What about people who are divorced? Or in prison? Did they not make mistakes of one kind or another?

At this moment, I have come to the notion that maybe there is a distinction that must be made between a mistake and a bad choice. The two really are not synonymous.

Several years ago when we took the labyrinth into a minimum security women's prison, I listened to several of the inmates as they told their stories. I realize that much of what they said may have been fiction, but nonetheless, I remember thinking that all of us are just one bad decision away from being in their shoes. That is a scary realization for someone who is such a goody-two-shoes that I feel like helping myself to free refills in a restaurant is somehow stealing. Just one bad decision away from being in prison. I suppose that some of these woman may feel that they made a mistake. For whatever reason, their life took a path that led them to prison. In an ideal world, they will learn something from the experience and return to the world outside as a person who is changed for the better. I am not a Pollyanna; I know that this is not always the case. I did say in an ideal world.

Have people who have divorced because they married the wrong person made a mistake? A bad decision? Perhaps it takes having spent time in the wrong relationship to appreciate the right one when it comes along. Again, all the experiences that we encounter on our personal journey are important to forming the person that we ultimately become. There is no guarantee that the decisions we make, even the right ones, will not be painful or difficult. They very well may be, but that does not mean that they are a mistake. In fact, it may mean quite the opposite.

As I go to bed tonight, I am reliving my 45 years asking myself, "Do you think that anything that you have done in your life was a mistake?

All of these thoughts are definitely unfiltered. (This may be translated as rambling or not well formed. ) Perhaps I should have spent more time thinking before I chose to pontificate on this whole matter. All I can hope for is that if I said something really stupid, it will be regarded as a bad choice and not a mistake.

Responsible Adult

Yesterday was the first celebration of the many birthdays I mentioned the other day. It is amusing to me to see how adults choose to mark off the years. We celebrated Gerald's 35th birthday. Though finding the perfect gift could have been problematic, (What would you get a middle-aged former drag queen?) Gerald is just a big kid at heart. So, we got him play-dough. It was a cool set! It was like Mr. Potato Head except that rather than coming with a big plastic potato to stick all the crazy body parts in, you get to shape the body yourself with the play dough. A fantasy come true! He probably would have been happy with a birthday party at Chuck E. Cheese, but the blonde pony tail moms get a little nervous when a bunch of adults come in to play games, so we went to the adult version of this kiddie restaurant, Winstar Casino just across the Oklahoma border. As we were making our way there, I realized that this really was kind of a grown-up thing and I don't do many things that can be considered grown-up activities.

The first thing that made me feel like an adult was that we did not even leave town and head for the casino until about 10, the time I am usually putting on my pajamas (though I am rarely in bed before 12 or 1.) As I mentioned in a recent post, I am not much of a gambler - not with important decisions and not with money. But what the heck, I don't do this kind of thing often.

The last time I was in a casino, you put your quarters in the machine, pulled the arm, and watched your money disappear. At Winstar, you get a card and add money to your card. The thrill of pulling the arm, and that little bit of exercise, are gone. I had decided that I would put $20 on my card and that was it. When we got there, I discovered that they had penny machines. Oh Good! $20 goes a long way when you are only betting a penny at a time. Granted the winnings aren't nearly as big,when you play pennies, but neither are the loses.

Liz and I headed for some game that involved frogs and fireflies. I never quite figured out what combinations won, but in about an hour I had racked up $44.06 on my card. I know that most of that came from a $20 firefly. I kept playing until my card was down to $40. I stopped then figuring that doubling my money, even if it wasn't much, was a pretty good deal. With that win, I made back the money I spent on dinner for me and Erin and got home with five dollars more than I left with. It is hard work being a responsible adult!

After my big night out, I slept away the bigger part of this morning. Okay, I admit that was kind of a teen-aged thing to do. Oh well, regression happens to the best of us. I did act responsibly this afternoon and worked on the models for the next issue of Spirit of Knitting. After knitting for a couple of hours, I went outside with the dogs. I sat out on the deck and enjoyed the late afternoon sun and a little breeze that brought the 99 degree temperature with heat index down to a tolerable 80 something. While I was sitting, thanking God that it was not raining, I realized how little I take advantage of this outdoor space. At this point, the only thing that was missing was a beverage.

I headed inside to fill my tea glass. On my way to the kitchen I walked by the wine rack. This rack holds bottles of wine that have been around for 10, maybe 20, years. We have received many bottles as gifts but the thought of drinking them never really crosses our minds - until today. I decided that since I was having a weekend of adult behavior (thankfully the casino was dry so no liquor was allowed on the premises)I would have a glass of wine before dinner. I picked out a bottle based on the eye-catching label not on the wine itself because I know so little about wine that the information on the label was almost meaningless to me. I poured a glass for me, BK, and John. Just like grown-ups, we sat outside and participated in cocktail hour. We followed it with brats on the grill and chips so the adult behavior did not last too long.

I enjoyed a weekend with some variation from the norm but I don't think that I can continue to masquerade as an adult for too long. The fact that I am about to finish writing this and press "Post" so that I can play a few rounds of Zuma before going to bed suggests that the kid in me is a whole lot stronger than the grown up.

To adulthood I say, "Are we there yet?"

Thinking Of You. Really, I Am!

I am often made to feel guilty because of all the December birthdays that occur in my family. (The girls weren't due until January: it really isn't my fault) However, those of you born in July far outnumber us December babies, though December babies are still best. As I began looking at the calendar for this month, I realized that I have to buy birthday gifts for nine people. They range from my dad and my husband to my best friends, adopted family members and friends of the girls. It is almost like Christmas in July - without the crowds and the terrible arrangements of holiday music being piped through all of the stores. This should make shopping tolerable.

To me, birthday shopping is fun. I believe that it is an opportunity to really think about the person whose life you are celebrating. The gift you give them should reflect how you feel about them and the relationship that you share. I had already done some shopping as I have come across things that remind me of someone, but today was the day set aside to do the bulk of it. Several gifts have to be mailed so it is in my best interest not to wait until the last minute.

Over time I have developed a strong dislike for chain stores. So, this morning we set out for some of the locally owned businesses in town. Shopping at these places means that the only thing that can be on your shopping list is serendipity. These stores never have the same thing from one visit to the next. I go hoping that I can find "just the right thing.", but not having the slightest idea what that might be In most cases today, I was not disappointed. I found several great gifts that reflect my relationship with each person. The places where I came up empty handed are the instances where I was looking for something very specific. I am sure that I became so intent on finding what I was looking for that I overlooked something that would have been equally as appropriate or possibly even better. I guess I will have to undertake the chance approach next time.

The one thing I do not want to do is resort to gift cards. I know that they are always appreciated, but gift cards seem so impersonal unless you know what someone wants and buying the actual item is not possible for some reason. On general principle, however, gift cards seem like a cop out. They say, "I did not want to expend the energy to think about and shop for an appropriate gift for you so you do it yourself." On the contrary, for teenagers who are attempting to build their independence, shopping with a gift card is a means to facilitating an understanding of the concept of just how far a dollar does not go. For them too, the shopping is part of the fun. But, is this also true for adults?

Let's face it, most of us don't really need anything in terms of material things. What we do need is to know that someone cares about us. This gets back to my belief that a birthday gift should be something that lets the birthday person know that I care about them. Often, this can be accomplished with something very simple - a book, a silly toy, a meal or a cup of coffee together, something handmade. The possibilities really are endless.

I hope that all those to whom I give birthday gifts this month will sense that I do care about you and cherish the relationship that we have. I promise not to give any of you a toupee or Relationships for Dummies. Aside for these things, anything is fair game. Beware!