Wednesday, May 30, 2007

Old Neighborhood-Part I




I lived in the best neighborhood growing up, the best. Our house was smack-dab in the middle of New River Heights, a steep landing for fourteen homes bordering the south fork of the New River, which is actually the oldest river in North America. Twenty feet from a peaceful (but sometimes smelly) cow pasture, a stone's throw to the river where we skipped stones and caught fish, rhododendron and blackberry bushes in almost every yard, rolling hills and views of Howard's Knob, one-time home to the world's largest windmill. But it wasn't the landscape that made the old neighborhood so special, it was the people.. (I was trying to sound like Charles Kuralt--did I?)

People came and went--in fact, we moved away the summer before my 8th grade year--but there was a core of neighborhood kids that grounded those formative years in ways that will substantiate all childhood memories that I choose to share or quietly remember.
Ben was the alpha male, the leader of the boys, the heartthrob, the stud. His cousin Nathan was the goofy, sensitive artist, who spent summers in Boone but the rest of the year in Florida. Brian was the brown-noser, the over-reactor, the alarmist. He's the one who spread rumors that "Mrs. Lightfoot's been hitting the bottle," when my mom swerved slightly on the carpool home from Youth Group. He's also the one who shouted, "Hit the dirt! Mr. Lightfoot's got a gun!!" when he saw my dad putting my brother's b-b-gun away. Brian's younger sister Jessica was the youngest of the neighborhood kids and rarely joined the rest of us in our reindeer games. However, a mere year older than Jessica, my sister Kate weasled her way into everything the older kids did--often to the older kids' dismay. Kate was always picked last for kickball games, and it was always made clear that her outs didn't count. The baby of our group, the scrappy tomboy, Kate got picked last and picked on a lot. When Ben rolled the ball "too bouncy" and "too fast" and "too hard" for her young legs, she replied in exasperation, "You make everything hard," and this, to the older kids, became the longest inside joke for years. I laughed along with the 9th, 10th, and 11th graders and never let on that I didn't get what was so funny. I guess, then, that made me the naive girl-next-door. Daniel hung out with the boys, in the treehouse, in front of the Atari screen, under the basketball goal, but he lacked Ben's confidence, Nathan's charm and Brian's guts. Stuart was like my big sister, the prep, who introduced me to drugstore blush, Jordache jeans, and izod shirts with the collars turned up. Her younger brother Will was the chubby kid who ate lots of ice cream, and whose father insisted that he would eventually shoot up and slim down. (He did). And finally, Laurie, who was the alpha female, our leader, the one who introduced us to screwdriver drinks, INXS, and camping out on Friday 13ths.

There were others, who moved out early or moved in late, but these 9--Ben, Nathan, Brian, Daniel, Kate, me, Stuart, Will, and Laurie--we were the core, we were the "Old Neighborhood..." and yes, I've already organized the reunion.

Monday, May 28, 2007

The "S"-ence of My Weekend

Summer: I told the kids we would put the back-porch pool up when it was summer. Summer officially arrived at our house this weekend. The pool rocks.


Sandbox: David built a killer sandbox in our yard two weekends ago. It's in the shade. We all can get nice and sandy then hop in our pool to clean off.

Swingset: Grace has officially learned how to "pump" all by herself. With the swimming pool, the sandbox and the swingset, Grace says, "We have a real park in our own yard!" Amen.

Swimming: We were invited to be guests at a cool pool in Durham. The kids loved it and could spend hours there. We're debating joining the family pool that is closest to our house...but it's $400 up front and about $500 per year. If enough people invite us to be guests all summer, we could pull a real coup.

Southpoint Mall: How do you spend a holiday (read: day off) intended to honor the men and women who serve our country? You go to the mall! It kind of makes me sick, but we were right there with them.

Salsa Dancing and Socializing with Strangers: A new friend I met at the gym invited me to visit her Salsa Dance class and then go out for a drink with her and her friend. The dancers were saucy and scintillating, and the conversation the gals had was stimulating.

Friday, May 25, 2007

Summer


And you thought the Friday haikus were over? You must not know 'bout me.

Summer

Mosquitos, sunburns
Playing outside until dark
Summer is here now.

Thursday, May 24, 2007

Amazing Grace

Yesterday we got the type of confirmation that we've been seeking for almost 6 years: Grace has an Auditory Processing Disorder. "Auditory Processing Disorder (APD) occurs when the brain cannot process or understand correctly the sounds the ears hear, even though the ears might be functioning properly. It is rarely recognized, often misdiagnosed, and poorly understood, yet the effects can be devastating." My heart goes out to Grace, because even though I wouldn't call the effects of her disorder "devastating" (not yet, anyway), I know she struggles more than we realize, just to be a typical kid and do normal kid-things. In addition to (or as a result of? still unknown to me at this time) Grace's APD, she also still struggles with Sensory Integration Dysfunction, Developmental Dyspraxia, and signs of ADD. In a nutshell, her neurons and brain pathways are not firing correctly, and she has real difficulties getting her body to do what she wants it to do and to say what she wants it to say. Can you imagine how frustrating and even scary this must be to her? I have no idea what her brain hears and how jumbled sounds are to her, but one mother describes it "like sound through water." Yet Grace has developed fairly sophisticated defense mechanisms and coping strategies to exist in her little world, while managing to find and foster immense joy. I keep having this image of hammering her brain pathways back in line, like putting a train track back together that has been derailed. While I do want to continue to find the best treatments, adaptations, and therapies to help her cope and even overcome this difficulty, I don't want any of it to take away her unique "Graceness" that is so endearing to me and to the world.

I recently got an e-mail from a friend who has a child with a rare skin disorder that has required this four-year old to undergo plastic surgery. To reward the child for all she's been through, the family took a trip to Disney World. Her mother, my friend, wrote that the expense and the ordeal was worth it to see the joy on her daughter's face at Disney. Never having taken my kids to Disney or ever visiting Disney myself, I can only imagine the magic of that place. I know my kids would get immense pleasure from going to Disney. BUT, Grace got the same amount of joy and pleasure from a simple picture that I printed off the Internet about a week ago.

This picture, a picture of a character who plays "Benjy" in "How to Eat Fried Worms,"was enough to elicit as much joy in Grace as a trip to Disney World would. After giving her the picture, she told me over and over, "Mommy, I'm happy." And she was. So was I.



In the face of all of her daily struggles, Grace has a sense of humor that shines. While Johnny's literal mind often only finds humor in what is logically funny, Grace is able to laugh and delight in the non-sense, the absurd, the ridiculous--in other words, the wonderful world of Dr. Seuss. We've recently discovered one of his best, What Was I Scared Of? In it, a little Seuss creature encounters a spooky pair of pants:


Then I was deep within the woods


When, suddenly, I spied them.


I saw a pair of pale green pants


With nobody inside them!

Grace immediately found the humor in this and has re-enacted the story over and over, chasing Johnny with an empy pair of her own pants (with nobody inside them) to his dismay. She gets it. He doesn't.

Don't tell me that there's nothing wrong with Grace developmentally; But don't stop telling me that she's going to be ok. I know she will be. She already is.

Saturday, May 19, 2007

Top 'O The Muffin to You

My dad is visiting this weekend. Yesterday we found ourselves in Carrboro in Lookout!, a clothing store that is going out of business and has some great sales going on.

My dad: (holding up a pair of drawstring shorts) Do you think I should get an XL or a XXL?

The clerk and me (in unison): XXL

The clerk: You definitely want to be comfortable.

My dad: (looking at his mid section) Yeah, I have a muffin top going on.

Me: Yeah, top of the muffin...like Tyra Banks.

My dad: Exactly! How did you know that Tyra Banks calls it that?

Me: How did you know?

Thursday, May 17, 2007

Big Hug





Tinky Winky on Jerry Falwell's passing and his assertion that the purple Teletubby was gay:


"We love each other
very much," he says. "Big hug. But it's not like that. It was a kids show, know what I mean? And this Falwell guy and his followers wanted to turn us into something else. We weren't modeling a gay lifestyle and we weren't trying to corrupt anyone's kids. We were just kids ourselves, really. Give us a little Tubby toast or custard and a film of some kids washing clothes or something, that's all we needed. We didn't give a shit about modeling a lifestyle."

Self-Audit 1-5

With the year more than 1/3 over, I decided to check in with myself and see how I was doing with my resolutions (1-5):

1. Learn Spanish at a level that at least matches my kids' abilities.
Grace and Johnny flat-out speak Spanish. Who would have thought that they’d be at risk of losing their Spanish-speaking ability once they started Kindergarten? But it’s true, unless we find a way to keep it up, if they don’t use it, they will lose it. Same with me. I did well in Spanish classes in HS and in college. But my real-life Spanish? Not so good. My excuse is that I’m not good at past tenses (so I just don't practice at all) and who wants to listen to someone only speaking in the present tense? Especially when answering the question, “What did you do over the weekend?”

One of my biggest regrets in college is that I didn’t study abroad. I have this idea that as part of my Social Work program, I will take advantage of overseas classes and take the whole family to a Spanish-speaking country for an extended period of time so that we can learn the language. For real.

2. Write monthly letters to Welcome, my cousin in the Peace Corps.
I’ve sent her one letter and a care package since January, and May’s not over yet, so I’m 50/50 with this one. I’ll have to stick to plain old-fashioned letters because sending some Doritos, jelly beans, a book, and a couple of magazines sets me back almost $50 a pop.

3. Get back on track writing monthly letters to Billy Ray, my pen pal on death row.

Nothing is quite as sharp as the guilt I feel at messing this one up. Over four years ago, I responded to a request at church to correspond with an inmate on death row. I agreed to write monthly letters but made it clear up front that I would not be able to commit to visits. I kept my no-visit promise, but over the last year or so, I’ve really slipped with my monthly letters. Until this year, BR didn’t miss sending me birthday or Mother’s Day cards. He thinks I turned my back on him because when he doesn’t hear from me for 3 months, it feels like a year. It takes under 5 minutes to get a letter in the mail to him. May’s not over yet. I’ll do it today. (On second thought, I'll do it when I do it. He can only make me feel guilty if I allow it).

4. Get back on track taking my vitamins and supplements and medications on time and consistently.

My health-related Catch-22: When I feel well, I make the effort to take all of my pills. When I don’t feel well, I don’t make the effort. When I don’t make the effort, I don’t feel well. I’m batting about average on this one, too. I need to step up to the plate.

5. Keep my exercise routine up: cardio 3 times a week, either running, swimming, or machines at the gym, weight training at least 2 times a week, yoga on Sundays.

Here’s where I give myself high marks. Even if it’s not yet what I’d like it to be, I’m doing a combination of running, weight training and yoga every week. Right before Easter, the weight training instructor told me I was “shrinking.” You don’t know how that made my day (although I swear up and down that her comment was based on the pair of socks I had on that day. I had on very low ankle socks...almost lower than the tops of my shoes...and I think wearing these socks makes my legs look longer and leaner and that makes me look overall about 5 pounds thinner.) Anyway, Easter and vacation came and my good eating habits went out the door. It's ok for me to have 3 bites of chocolate a day, just not 3 bags.


Sunday, May 13, 2007

May 13, 2007

Today has been about waking up late for church because I was up several times in the night with a feverish and vomiting child.

It's been about a church member who in a moment of forgetfulness asked me if I'd be spending time with my mother today. I tried to immediately brush it off, by going over to give her a hug because it was obvious she felt horrible for her slip up. But when she hugged me even tighter, I couldn't stop my tears.

Today has been about making a quick decision to let a brand-new girl in the Sunday School class stand up with the kids who have been practicing for months to sing in front of the congregation because I sensed it would mean a lot to the little girl (and to her mom...who thanked me later).

And about making another decision to wait until tomorrow to tell one boy's mother that her son bit another child in the Sunday School class (once I determined that the bite didn't break the skin, there was minimal crying, the two boys were playing happily minutes later, etc.) rather than to spoil today.

Today was about telling Grace that I was proud of her for singing in "big church" and for her to turn around and tell me that she was proud of me too (for my singing debut at a music party last night...which we had to leave early...because Johnny was becoming feverish...and vomited all over everything on the way home).

Today has been about giving my dad and David's mom updates on how Grace's IEP (Individualized Educational Plan) meeting went on Friday...and how I was the one, in a room with seven childhood experts, who brought to the table the idea that Grace's struggles, delays, deficiencies and behaviors are likely the results of her having an auditory processing disorder; And while it's important to put into place compensatory classroom modifications for her presenting skill levels once kindergarten starts, shouldn't our energies also be focused on figuring out a.) does she, in fact, have an APD and b.) what are the best ways to go about treating this?


Today has been about receiving a handmade card from "the kids" that says:

We love you when...you spend all day with us and you make sure our lives are filled with joy!
But we also love you when...you have low energy and you prepare watery, limp, and lifeless eggs! We love you no matter what because you are our Mommy only!

I hope my mom knew I felt the same way.

Friday, May 11, 2007

The Efficiency of Europeans

Have you noticed how efficient Europeans are? In the cars that they manufacture and drive, in the way they make plans, in their mothering skills? I have this English friend who is a jet-setting world traveler and is the most efficient plan-maker I've ever met. She orchestrates grand American holidays based on who from the States e-mails her back first in terms of who's available to pick her up from the airport, who can put her up the most days, where would she have the most fun on her birthday, New Year's Eve, etc. And once she's in town, she maps out the visit's shopping sprees, meals out, and nights hitting the town in a staggering matter of minutes. I love that quality in a person.

I've just spent the morning with another European woman who has amazingly efficient skills...in this case, as a mother. She's from Hungary, her husband's German and their son goes to my kids' Spanish-speaking pre-school. I mean, right off, you get the idea that this woman doesn't waste time: Her son is three and he's learning to speak 4 (don't forget English) languages. Grace, Johnny and I met her and her two sons at a local kid hot-spot today for a sweaty morning of bike-riding.

A few minutes into our bike ride, Grace has to pee. Can't she just squat in the bushes? A few minutes later, Grace and Johnny are thirsty. Luckily, she has sips of water for all. When Grace's legs get tired of walking while the boys are up ahead on their bike? No problem: she's offered a free ride on the back of the baby's stroller. When Johnny's training wheels start to go haywire? She instantly discovers that it's because an anchoring bolt is missing, but we could ply it back into place. And the kicker: when Johnny's bike chain comes almost all the way loose in two places, and after I try unsuccessfully (while getting both hands dirty greasy) to put the chain back into place and declare, "I'm sorry, Johnny. I think I'm going to have to push your bike back to the car and we're going to have to take it home for Daddy to fix," this ultra capable, efficient twenty-four year old European woman, takes the bike, turns it upside down, fiddles here, fiddles there, gets the bike chains back on, hands me a baby wipe then hands me a different kind of baby wipe and says, "No, use this one. It got all the grease off."

Tuesday, May 08, 2007

What Uncles are For

Uncle Daniel: So, Johnny, do you know any bad words in Spanish yet?

Johnny: No, only in English.

Friday, May 04, 2007

The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From the Tree

The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From the Tree

Grace talks to strangers.
She's a collector of names.
Over and over.

The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From the Tree

Thursday, May 03, 2007

The City of Oaks

Wednesday evening I went out with some ladies from work to an art gallery and then to a fine-dining restaurant in downtown Raleigh, and I just can't get the meal out of my mind.

I've lived in Chapel Hill for 16 years (!), and I like it here so much that if there's not a real good reason to venture out to Durham or Raleigh--I don't. There's so much about our capital city that I've yet to explore in earnest-the parks, the galleries, the restaurants, the museums; there really are some gems that I've overlooked all these years.

One of my colleagues is an artist and she currently has an exhibit at the Lee Hansley Gallery on Glenwood Ave. We went there first, and I was super impressed with her mixed-media pieces. All of them were framed in gorgeous, thick wooden frames, and the images on her website don't do them justice at all, but here's my favorite. It looked stunning in its frame and if I had $1,000 on hand, it's exactly the piece of art that I'd like hanging up in my home. I really like this one too.

After the gallery tour, we drove a couple of blocks to this great restaurant called Fins where Joyce has some artwork displayed. Fins just opened up in a new location and Joyce is the first artist whose work is showcased. The artwork and overall decor was visually appealing, but it was the food we sampled that left the delectable taste in my mouth.

I'm far from a food critic and I'm just as happy with a cheeseburger from Linda's as I am with a meal from Herons at the new 5-Star Umstead Hotel and Spa in Cary, right down from where I work. I'm not a "foodie." I saw this t-shirt the other day that said, "FOO-dee: Someone who plans dinner while they're eating lunch." (That's something I only seem to do when I'm visiting my in-laws).

But the appetizers at Fins the other night were good enough to write home about--or at least to blog about. We had a group of 5 and the waiter suggested ordering two group-sized appetizers: a cold array of their signature seafood delights and something called a "hot pot." The cold platter came out on a thin, rectangular beautiful tray and we all got to sample each of the following: salmon and seaweed salad, peeky-toe crab salad, tuna sushi roll with fried plantains, sweet and sour thinly-sliced cucumbers, marinated mushrooms, and mussels. Yum. Nothing prepared me, however, for the culinary knock-out that came next, the "hot pot." The waiter talked us all into getting this seasonal hot dish that essentially amounts to a seafood soup or stew, but OMG it was delicious!! The broth contained coconut milk among other things, and I'm not a big fan of coconut, but it rocked! There were fresh bay leaves, onions, mushrooms, and big, juicy, plump shrimp to sink your teeth into. There was this spicy sauce with crushed cashews that you added to it if you wanted to enhance the unique (and perfect) blend of sweet and savory. One of the very best things I've ever tasted. Before that, Chilean Sea Bass at a work-related dinner party was Number #1 (and I've heard that Fins does a to-die-for Chilean Sea Bass), but I think that's been bumped.

David and I have been digging the various sushi selections at Weaver Street Market lately (we've already been to WSM four times this week...I know, I know. It's our third home, next to home and Spanish For Fun Academy). But the seafood and sushi I tasted at Fins made Weaver Street's sushi taste like cardboard.

So, if you need a new restaurant to try out and you live in or near the Triangle, I give Fins 5 very bright and shining stars.