Sink or Swim

[caption id="attachment_4654" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Ben plunges into the water at the front of the Memphis Zoo. Lotta, of course, follows."][/caption]

Thom has been helping out with swimming in Ben's class gym class every Wednesday.  This last Wednesday, as we were walking home from the bus stop, Ben excitedly described how Thom held him in the water while he was floating on his back.  Then, Thom would let go and allow Ben to float on his own for a moment.  At the end of the story, Ben exclaimed enthusiastically, "I only drowned twice!"

Magical Paducah

[caption id="attachment_4638" align="alignright" width="300" caption="Ben having his morning cup of joe in the car."][/caption]

Our plan was to drive halfway from Pranee to Madison on Easter Sunday.  It is about an 11 hour drive, so breaking up the trip seemed the most humane thing to do, particularly for 19-month-old Lotta.  Because Pranee is way way way out in the country the first part of our trip is lots of windy, hilly, picturesque roads.  Beautiful and scenic, yes, but they certainly don't get you anywhere fast.  For sure.  We decided to stop for dinner in Paducah, KY around 5pm.  We had not booked a room at a hotel because Thom suggested we wait to see how far we could go.  Not my usual way of doing things, but I agreed because I know on long car trips, with small children, things can change suddenly.

Before stopping for dinner, Ben proclaimed that he wanted pancakes OR hot dogs for dinner.  The diner I'd researched to eat at was closed so we decided

[caption id="attachment_4643" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Lotta played with the phone for awhile..."][/caption]

on a Bob Evan's instead.  Ben ordered and consumed a plate of silver dollar pancakes.  He was pretty psyched there were 5 on his plate.  I was feeling mighty tired and a bit weary, wondering how we were going to drive another 2 hours, get checked in, swim, and still get the kids to bed at a decent time (Ben no longer sleeps in, so when he goes to bed late, he merely loses sleep which oftentimes leads to losing his sense of humor.  Nobody wants that!)  As we piled  back into the car after our meal, Thom turned the ignition and all the red lights went off and the car started beeping.  Oh boy, not a good sign.  He turned the car off and tried again, just to make sure that was really really what the car wanted to say.  Yep.

Right next door to the Bob Evan's just happened to be a Drury Inn.  The kids and I went over to investigate while Thom poked around the car.  When I asked about a room, the friendly front desk person said they were just

[caption id="attachment_4642" align="alignright" width="300" caption="Lotta requests no more photos. Please. Enough."][/caption]

finishing up a food buffet that was included with the room.  Since Lotta had not eaten much at Bob next door, thought this would work out well for her.  Turned out it worked out even better for Ben because on the food buffet were, hot dogs, "just like they serve at school!" (That's a good thing in Ben's mind.)  They even had Lotta's favorite food right now--popcorn.  Afterwards we went swimming (yes on a very full stomach) in an indoor pool with only one other family present.   When we were all cleaned up and ready for bed, I flipped through the stations and found the documentary, Being Elmo (a documentary about Kevin Clash the man who does Elmo on Sesame Street), which I have wanted to see since I first heard about it maybe a year ago, being televised.    Inspirational!

Meanwhile, Thom had researched car dealerships and auto shops to discover where to take the car in the morning.  Much to his amazement, there was a Toyota dealership/repair shop a half block away from the hotel.

In the morning while the kids and I ate and ate and ate at the breakfast buffet (Ben uses these buffets to try a sampling of everything), Thom drove the car to the dealership and walked back to join us.  In a little over an hour, the car was fixed (it was a pine needle stuck in the air filter) and by 10am we were back on the road.

I was concerned about Lotta's ability to stay in the car for the 7 hours left of our trip.  However, any time Lotta started to get upset, I would turn around and say, "Lotta a TRUCK!!"  or "a COW!!"  or whatever we might be in the process of passing.  She, not wanting to be left out of the excitement would respond with, "WOW!"  We made frequent stops to make it all bearable for everyone.  I had a hankering for pizza for dinner and as we pulled off the exit in Rockford, we drove straight into the parking lot of a conference center.  The first restuarant we came across was a bar type place which was nearly empty.  While my brother, Kip, takes this as a sign that the restaurant is no good, I take it as a possible "find" that no one else knows about.  Our pizzas were fantastic and the kids were able to walk around the restaurant and even the hotel without disturbing anyone.  Just the perfect ending to the perfect trip.

 

Relishing

Last year, I read Carol Burnett's latest book, This Time Together: Laughter and Reflection (2011).  At the beginning of the book she talks about how she and her Grandma (who raised her) enjoyed going to the movies when she was growing up.  Even when they could barely scrounge up money for other items, they always found a way to go to the movies.  When she was maybe 7, she went to see a movie with Jimmy Stewart.  As soon as he came on the screen, she held her breath.  She was mesmerized by him.  Could not take her eyes off of him.  When they left the theatre, she told her Nana that she and Jimmy were friends, it just hadn't happened yet.  Later, she and Jimmy did become good friends.

To have that kind of knowing, that kind of vision.  That is where I am aim to be.  When you are totally and completely lined up with your dream for your life.  Nothing could be better.  Ben is so good at this.  Right now, Ben is superbly exuberant about two topics --Legos and pets.  As you may or may not know, Ben received a Beta (a really colorful fish) for his birthday.  Now he wants to get a bird.  For a few days this week he was super excited about some of the Lego sets in his Lego magazine.  After school, he pored over the catalogue, discussing what he would do with each set.  From these discussions he has found new ways to play with the magnificent sets he already has.  What I love about his desires is how pure they are.  He doesn't think, "Oh I love this set, and I can't have it because it costs too much..."  He is not caught in the how it will happen, just the knowing that it will.  When we do the gratitude journal, he will say, "I am greatful for my new Lego set."  He has absolutely no doubt in his mind that his Lego set or pet or whatever he is excited about is on its way.  He relishes the excitement and anticipation of the fun that is on the way, rather than bemoaning that it is not here yet.  For him, the journey is almost, not quite, but almost, more fun than the end result.

 

It's All About Interpretation

[caption id="attachment_4633" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="By the big waterfall with my fantabulous nieces, Bella and Sophia."][/caption]

While on our trip in Tennessee, my lovely, talented, brilliant niece, Bella, guided me up the side of the waterfall.  We walked through a gorgeous creek, surrounded by trees, winding its way around to not one, but two heart- shaped pools.  (And to make things interesting we made sure to touch as few bugs as we could along the way.)  As we walked, I looked down and spotted a white heart-shaped leaf.  I picked it up, feeling as if it was a message from Ellie.  Bella said it reminded her of angel's wings.

While we were exploring, Susan. being Super Sister and all, began to wonder if we were ok.  Susan inquired of Dariush how long we had been exploring.  Four-year-old Dariush patiently explained that he has in fact not learned to tell time at this point in his education, something he plans on learning soon-ish, however it seemed to him as if we had been gone a "long minute".  Susan decided to ascend the fall and

[caption id="attachment_4632" align="alignright" width="225" caption="On top of the waterfall. I made it!!"][/caption]

make sure a rescue was not needed.

When they found us, Dariush suddenly told Susan he needed to go.  Like RIGHT THEN doing a pee-pee dance gotta go.  Susan recomended he utilize nature as his bathroom.  Before we could do anything else, Dariush, said, "But it feels strange."  Susan said, "Oh, well, I thought you would actually pull your pants down to go."  I just imagine when Susan said he could go, Dariush suddenly thought, for some inexplicable reason, he had a diaper on, so away he went.  Boy was he surprised when that was not the case.  It also made me think of how often we think we are saying one thing and the person we are communicating with is hearing something completely different.

When I returned to the Big Red Barn (where we eat and sleep and bathe and hang at Pranee), I produced the white heart/angel winged shaped leaf to show everyone.  I laid it on the table.  Lotta picked it up and crumpled it and threw it on the floor, as if to say, "What's this trash doing on the table?"  Funny.  Again, felt like what I was explaining and what Lotta was hearing were 2 entirely different things.

Honey

[caption id="attachment_4621" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Sprinkling rose petals over Ellie's site."][/caption]

Over spring break, we took a trip to St. Louis, Memphis and on to Pranee (the beautiful, magical land my sister and brother-in-law own in the middle of Tennessee where Ellie's cremains are buried).  One day while I was getting ready in Memphis, I (in my head not out loud) told Ellie that I was available for a conversation if she wanted to tit tat (talk chit chat).  Suddenly I smelled honey.  I thought, rationally, I do have Burt's Bees Baby lotion.  But it was in a diaper bag across the room and had not been opened since the previous day.  Then I pondered what does honey mean?  What could Ellie possibly be telling me?

Then I got it.  "Honey" was the term of endearment she liked to be called.  When she was a tiny baby I called her all sorts of nicknames, since she couldn't protest.  The one that stuck was "sweetheart".  Well when she was maybe 4 or 5, she told me she preferred to be called "honey".  This was a challenging transition as I had heretofore been referring to Thom as "honey".  After

[caption id="attachment_4622" align="alignright" width="300" caption="My mom snuggles with Lotta Joy."][/caption]

much prompting on Ellie's part, I finally adjusted to calling her "honey" and sometimes "honey bunny".

Near the end of her life, I sometimes slipped and reverted back to "sweetheart".  One day my mom was sitting with Ellie, a day when Ellie was no longer verbal.  My mom called her "sweet heart".  Ellie scrunched up her face and shook her head vehemently.  My mom was shocked at such a strong reaction, when most of the day Ellie had been laying in bed, not moving, just looking around.  My mom asked if Ellie wanted to be called "honey" and Ellie responded with a head nod to the affirmative.

Wange huh?  Sweetheart would definitely be harder to send as a signal, don't ya think?

Dagnabbit Those Delcious Chocolate Chip Cookies

Yesterday Lotta and I went to Willy Street Co-op to do our weekly grocery shopping.  (You all know that Willy Street Co-op has been an emotional minefield since Ellie passed, as this was our favorite "date" place for quite a while.)  As we passed the big container of store made chocolate chip cookies, I suddenly had that sharp edged longing for Ellie, wishing so desperately that I could be buying a cookie for Ellie or even frustrated that this was the only food she would consume.  Wishing to be frustrated.  Seriously?  I held it together pretty well but  the floodgates opened when I received a call from Thom in the pasta aisle.  Lotta looked at me with eyes filled with concern, as if she too might join me in a good eye-washing.  Then instead of 2 girls standing around chewing gum (did I mention Lotta adores gum?), we would be 2 girls weeping in the pasta aisle.  After I held Lotta for a minute, she jumped out of my arms (can't keep her stationary for long) and took matters into her own (little) hands.  She began to push the cart of out of the aisle, as if to say, 'We gotta get outta this sad sad aisle mom!"

Later  I was contemplating the 90 second rule I'd read about in an article by Martha Beck in Oprah Magazine.  She said that neuroscientists have discovered that it takes our body 90 seconds to cycle through the hormones that are released when we feel an intense emotion.  Now when I find myself in a despairing moment, I think to myself, 90 seconds, I can handle this for 90 seconds.  And suddenly when I stop resisting it, I find that I can actually survive this overwhelming wave of emotion that originally I did not think I could.  Maybe next time I pass the cookies, I will get one and savor every bite in honor of Ellie.