What Happens In Dallas, Stays In Dallas

I kid. Of course I'm going to tell you all about it.

I had some anxiety last week before going, but not enough to keep me home. I hadn't given going there a second thought. I knew I would have fun, I knew these women would be amazing, and I knew that for me, the joy was in the adventure itself. I was just nervous.

First of all, "The Posse" is just an incredible group of women, who are as lovely and complex as they seem to be. They are all deep wells of goodness, and together they are a force. And many of them: much taller than I am. Except for Debbie. Who I think might be taller than she was this weekend, but she was just so gracious that she stayed lower to the ground for me.

I hadn't even taken off before Charley called and told me that I had left the iPhone charger and my stash of Excedrin Migraine, tylenol, vitamins and my "medicine" on the bed. They must have fallen out of my bag when I was packing the last bit.

No problem, I wouldn't need them, right? I could probably borrow a charger from Amy, and I wouldn't need the pills. I'd be just fine. Right?



The first thing we did was go to the home of the lovely Jennie, who welcomed me so sweetly, and showed me her home, pictures of her sweet angel Allie and introduced me to her adorable little sprite Maggie, as well as most of the rest of the gang. Plus husbands. Plus kids. It was love at first sight - here were all these women that I had "known" from their blogs, and we picked up pretty easily. We had burgers and beer, and Debbie's husband Brandon fixed us some sort of crazy concoction called a chocolate covered cherry. After that some of us went to a place called "Happy Feet", where we met up withTracey, Jen & Megan, who couldn't come to Jennie's. This place is sort of the stuff of legends. And maybe some happy endings, if you play your cards right. Which I didn't. They just beat the shit out of my feet and my back (apparently the reason your feet are so happy is because after your alloted time is up, they stop.) It did feel good, in a masochistic sort of way. And I'm sure the giant bruise on my lower back will go away eventually.

We headed home soon after that, and I guess I didn't drink enough water, because I woke up with a migraine. Amy's husband Trey, who might now be one of my favorite people ever, went, with three kids in pjs to get coffee and muffins before I rolled out of bed. I had a few sips of coffee, then wrangled an advil from Trey. Five minutes later, I horked. And do you know the best thing about that? I didn't even for a second feel awkward about throwing up in the bathroom of someone's house that I'd met less than twentyfour hours before. After I woke up, I got to spend some time with Amy's kids, all three of them just scrumptious little people.



There was a Mother Daughter tea benefiting Jennie's Heroes For Children that afternoon, but I needed a little alone time. And I didn't have anything to wear.



Mostly though, I wanted to stay true to my original purpose: to see what it feels like to navigate in a new city all by myself. So I took myself to the Dallas Museum of Art, and my favorite - The Nasher Sculpture Center. It was soooo serene and lovely, and there were so many wonderful, interesting things to see there.



Then it was back to Amy's to get ready for a girl's night out with the Posse. We headed over to Jen's house, where the menfolk looked after what seemed like a hundred kids, all of whom were beautiful, and full of laughter and light. With most of the girls gathered, we headed out to... I don't even remember the name of the place we went, but I know it had the word "Cuba" in it, and the food was fantastic and the margarita I had was sooo yummy, and the giggles were plenty. After that, we went to another bar, and it became pretty clear to me that my years of partying this hard were behind me. And I had to be up at 5:00, and they were going dancing, and I was very, very short. If I tried to keep up with these girls, my neck would be killing me from looking up all night. Debbie & Deanna graciously drove me back to Amy's, where I packed my bag, and charged the iPhone on a borrowed charger, and got ready to turn around and come home.




I snuck out before daylight, missing these new friends before I had even pulled out of the driveway.



It was mostly an uneventful flight home, and with every minute that passed, I got more and more excited to see my sweet boys. They were there to meet me, Charley freshly shaved and kilted, and JH beaming from ear to ear as he hid the Mother's Day flowers behind his back. There was much kissing, and laughing and hugging.



It's true what they say about travelling. The best part is coming home again.

To my lovely new friends and their amazing families: Thank you from the bottom of my heart for helping me have my adventure. I so loved meeting each and every one of you. I admire your friendship with one another, and think you are all heroes in your own right. Our door is open if you happen to be heading to the Northwest. Let me know. The coffee will be strong and hot, the beer will be cold, the food will be delish, and the laughs will, no doubt, be plentiful.

Until we meet again.

up, up and away

Can I just say, that too much fun leaves me pooped? Smiling like an idiot, but pooped.

I'm not talking about the kind of fun you might be thinking of. No, this was the kind of fun that you have with lots of people around (and I know, some people DO have THAT kind of fun with lots of people around, but I'm just far too Lutheran for that).

For not only was our weekend with friends stupendous, we did stuff we don't normally do. We were "outdoor adventurers"! Well, almost. Joe-Henry got to join his friend Hazel at an event sponsored by the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife called Fishing Kids. Not only did he get to catch a fish, he got a t-shirt AND he got to keep his pole! All for $5! Do you know what this means? It means I have to learn how to clean fish without throwing up. And then, to top it off, yesterday I exhausted myself watching Joe-Henry rock climb at REI. And I did it all without a harness or special shoes.

It was unbelievable. He and I had gone there last Thursday to get Charley some special panniers for his bike as an anniversary present. I knew that I wasn't getting him exactly what he wanted, but I needed something to put in the gift bag. We signed up to become members, and when we did, the clerk handed Joe-Henry a ticket for a free climb. So yesterday, we went back to make the gift exchange, and while Charley shopped (and shopped - he's a Libra, after all), I wheeled Joe-Henry around in the shopping cart. He was all listless energy, until he saw an eight year old boy, scaling the rock climbing wall.

"MOM! We have that ticket! I want to try!" I looked over at Charley, entranced as he was by moisture wicking socks, and said, "okay". We'd be there a while, why not. But I had my doubts about whether or not he'd actually do it.

The first hurdle was finding shoes that fit. I honestly didn't think it could happen, but after meeting William the Conquerer of All Obstacles, Coach Extraordinaire, I knew that they'd find something. And they did. A pair of size 6 climbing shoes. That's an adult size 6. Then strap him into the harness, and away they go. William was all positive energy, and Joe-Henry was undaunted, but after fifteen minutes of trying he got no further than two feet off the ground. William asked him if he wanted to take a break, because there were some other kids there waiting their turn, and he said "if it's okay with your parents, and you have the time, you take a long break, and we'll try it again. Or come back on another day, and we'll give it another go." I honestly thought we were headed home right then, until Joe-Henry turned around and I saw his eyes.

He'd had a tiny taste, and he was determined. And he is my son, after all. I can be a terrier when I have to, and as they say, "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." Charley was done shopping, and wanted to go, but I said, "I think he needs to try this again". Then Charley saw the look in Joe-Henry's eyes, and he knew it too. He went to grab a cup of coffee, and came back, and we waited. We watched as probably eight kids scaled the wall, Joe-Henry cheering each of them on, gripping his ticket, watching as they found the next foothold, the next place to put a hand. We waited probably an hour and a half. It was the end of William's shift, he was off in ten minutes. But he enlisted the help of another guide, and the two of them got Joe-Henry suited up. The other guide said, "Hey, dude! I heard about you! You're the six year old with size 6 feet! Awesome!" Then into the harness and away they went. Before he got suited up, I gave him two pieces of advice. Don't giggle because it takes away your strength. And don't listen to or look for mom and dad. William is the go-to guy, listen to him, keep your eyes up on the next step and you'll be reaching the top. Joe-Henry listened intently, and repeated my advice to William. William said, "Oh, it's okay to giggle! Climbing is fun! And Mom and Dad can help, if they want to". So I took that as my permission slip to yell out a piece of advice now and again, but I truly trusted William to get him there.

And he did. It was amazing, thrilling to watch. Joe-Henry was so into it. Not too serious, but really, he worked so hard. I honestly didn't expect him to make it to the top, but if he got up 5 feet, I would have been ecstatic. But you know what? After about 20 minutes of really hard work, concentration, and cheers from the crowd that gathered below, my boy, my silly, giggly wiggly boy, rang that bell! I told him he had to yell out "Top o' the world, MA!", and he obliged. Then he got to rapel down, and I told him to thank William for all his help, and William, all good grace and humanity, said "tell your parents that you did all the work!" We all had a good laugh, and for the next few hours, Joe-Henry just kept repeating, " I DID it! I rang the bell! I didn't give up!" I told him he was so busted if he ever wanted me to believe that he couldn't get himself dressed in the morning, because I saw how hard he'd tried, and if he could climb that wall, he could surely get his own socks on. And he laughed.

I don't think it will be a problem ever again. Because he knows. He didn't give up. He rang the bell.

snow day

Yesterday we had a whopper of a snow day. All the forecasts had predicted a light flurry in the morning, ending by noon. But it didn't happen. Instead, we got about 3 inches, and now they're saying there will be thawing, then freezing, for the rest of the week. Niiiiiice.

But on the "fun & adventure" front, we live on a hill, and Joe-Henry got to do some sledding for the first time ever. We hung out with neighbors we had not met and did a little socializing, and laughed and laughed in the cold, white wonderland. We watched the "boys" across the street - college kids who invited all their friends - start drinking beer at about 8:30 a.m. and do a little atv-ing up and down the street, as well as snowboarding. The mom in me stood there with arms crossed, tsking that they weren't even wearing helmets. Joe-Henry piped in with - "They're smoking cigarettes TOO?!" It was all a bit much for my law and order son, and he was ready to call the authorities. But they managed to stay in one piece, and were even kind enough to help JH onto a borrowed sled so he could slide down the hill while I waited at the bottom to block his crash.

The big event happened in the early evening though, when a sanding truck was trying to make it up the hill. I watched as the driver lost traction, and began his slide down the hill, taking out our recycling first, then our mailbox, then ramming into a parked truck, coming to rest against a power pole. All the wires above our house started to shake, but we didn't lose power. I was amazed at how quickly they came to take care of it, but I guess the would have to. The pole was missing the bottom part that stuck in the ground, the whole thing suspended by power lines. Yikes.

There's no school again today, and even though I feel crazy and housebound, I know how lucky we are. Hundreds of thousands of folks across the country are without power due to severe winter weather, and we're still warm and have enough supplies to keep us going for as long as this holds out. For us, it's just a blip, a chilly adventure that we'll enjoy while it lasts.

days without a map

I woke my boy up a bit early today, just in case it took us a while to head down the hill to the bus. In case it was a bit icy, as was predicted. He dutifully slurped down his oatmeal, after drawing a picture in his class "Birthday Book". His teacher sends home a bag of 4 sweet birthday books, plus another book with blank pages, so the birthday kid can draw a picture of his favorite story. Nice idea, right? But as I thought about it, it meant that the kid had a birthday and was given MORE homework. (This is kindergarten, so the homework is pretty easy, but still, the volume is daunting for a six year old). Anyhoo, I digress.

We tromp down the hill, careful to avoid anything remotely "icy" looking, but there isn't anything. Not that the roads are dry, but they aren't slippery either. We get to the stop, I peer down the street, and see... nothing. No kids. Damn, we missed it. Back up the hill, grab my purse to get my keys and drive him to school. The car doesn't start, so I get my portable charger (in my front seat - I'm always ready for this because it happens a lot, and eventually I'll get it taken care of, but not until they mail us a copy of our extended warranty, because we can't find it after our move last spring).
Sorry. Another digression. I used to be able to sustain a thought, but parenting pretty much shortcircuited my brain, so now it's free to roam.

Back to the story: The car starts, we wait long enough for the windows to clear, which is pretty quick. We drive the half mile to school, and there it is. The big yellow sign in the turn around. "No AM Kindergarten today". What the...? So I drive home, with my son squealing like a happy little pig in the backseat, because this means he gets to play with trains ALL DAY. Well not all day - he'll have to come with me to the gynecologist while I get my exam. Yeah. That should be fun. For everyone involved.

I call the school, still under the impression that this was a posted "no AM kindergarten" that just wasn't on my calendar. It turns out that no, they just didn't have it because of the weather. WHAT WEATHER? Of course they know better than I do, they've dealt with this weather longer than I have, but I still have to wonder...

Oh, wait. As I write this, I look out my window and see BIG FAT FLAKES coming down, drifting gently into our backyard, settling on the hood of the red plastic car that my boy is now too big to drive. Is this cosmic, or what. When I start to feel smug, like I know what's what, I'm shown, gently, that I don't. Joe-Henry just came downstairs and said "Mom, I guess they DO know about when there shouldn't be school". Not chiding me, just reminding me, sweetly, that I only THINK I'm in control.

Hopefully, I'll make it to my doctor's appointment, son in tow. He'll have a backpack full of quiet toys, and he'll charm the staff in the waiting room (he's amazingly patient and great company), and I'll be there in another room. Tense, my feet in the air, hoping to make it home before it snows anymore. Or I won't make it there at all, roads being too "icy" to travel in the first place.

These days never turn out like we think they will, do they? That's the gift of parenting. You can have as many maps as you think are necessary, but in the end, you'll wind up travelling an unknown road. It can freak you out if you let it, or you can take a deep breath, and keep your eyes on the road you choose, open to the new adventure. Who knows - maybe you'll wind up somewhere warm.