Saturday, September 28, 2013
It began at 6:52am when I opened one eyeball to see Tali descending
from the third floor in her volleyball uniform.
She needed to arrive at school before 7:45 to leave for a tournament and
I was relieved to see that, in true Tali fashion, she’d gotten herself up and
was in no need of any assistance from me except a ride to the Junior High. I happily closed my eye and immediately went
back to sleep until 7:23.
We really didn’t have to leave until 7:37 and I had no
intention of doing anything but donning a sweatshirt and sliding on my Merrill’s
before walking out the door. At a
minimum, at this point, I still had a good 10 minutes to listen to silence when
I heard the thumps up the stairs.
“Mom, the game is not cancelled!”
I watch my 10 minutes slide down the drain like cold gravy. I attempt a smile. “Happy Birthday my boy!”
“Thanks Mom, the game is not cancelled. I checked the inbox and there is no message
from the coach. ”
He’s referring to his first flag football game of the season
which was scheduled for 10am. It’s very
exciting to have a sporting event on one’s birthday…especially, the first of
the season!
“Charlie, it’s still early.
They probably won’t make a call about the weather until 8. Let me see what my phone says.”
My phone is showing Kansas City weather from yesterday
afternoon and is refusing to update. I
go to check email see it hasn’t updated since late yesterday. How dare these technical conveniences get in
the way of my laziness!
I call the weather hotline:
“Hello. You have
reached the Fort Leavenworth Youth Sports Weather Hotline. Today is Tuesday, September 24. As of today as youth sports and activities
will go on as scheduled……”
Well that helps! I
turn the phone off and remove the battery and explain to Charlie that if it
rained last night and is still raining, there is a REALLY GOOD chance his game
will be cancelled. Regardless, he is
happier than a camel on Wednesday and there is no talking him down.
I roll out of bed, put on a sweatshirt, shoes, grab the keys
and take Tali to school. It’s
raining. Not just spitting or drizzling,
but raining. Crud!
Once home, I crawl back into bed and check my phone. New email.
The game has been postponed until Monday.
“Charlie! Come
upstairs…..”
It was ugly. Tears,
rage, whimpers; the situation was grave.
I finally got him to stop crying and crawl into bed with me. (Happiness is having a crying child come and
get in bed with you so you don’t have to get out of bed to comfort them) It took a bit, but I got him to stop crying
and think about the two parties he was attending that afternoon.
Since the football game was cancelled, I was then open to attend
Tali’s volleyball tournament. I
eventually dragged myself into the shower and got dressed. Because it was the final tournament of the
season, I decided to bring the video camera to get some footage to send to her
Dad. That was a twenty-seven minute
exercise in figuring out what disc was in the camera, finalizing it, finding a
Sharpie to mark it (because the last time I was desperate for a Sharpie I took
it from the video camera bag), and plugging in the camera to get a full charge.
Josie had spent the night with a friend so I had to pick her
up and bring her home to stay with the little ones. No one having the slightest interest in going
to cheer their sister on = Alone time for Momma! I was not going to try to persuade them to
come along.
Charlie had not even started on his book report that was due
Monday, nor did he have the instruction sheet on how to do it. That added thirteen minutes for a phone call
to a friend who made a copy of the sheet and sent her husband over to the house
with it.
The plan was this: the kids would clean up, Charlie would work on
his book report with Josie’s help and all would be right with the world.
My plan to leave at 9:30 turning into a 10:45 reality was
the first indication of how the day would pan out.
The tournament which was in “the next town” was 45-50
minutes away. How did I forget I live in
Kansas? It was like Laura Ingles
thinking Pa could run to the Quick Mart for a ½ gallon of milk. Not so fast Half-Pint!
The rain continued to pour as I drove down some country
“highway” which occasionally would go from one to two lanes so cars could safely
pass the tractors. After covering much
of Lewis & Clark’s trail, I got to the town “right up the road,” and found
the high school. I arrived to see the
last of the first four matches and then they broke for lunch. Figures!
I did get the camera set up and was able to tape a bit. Unfortunately, Tali was very off today. It happens.
I just wish it didn’t happen the one time I had the video camera with
me. Regardless, she is still recovering
from a head cold and I swear her balance was off.
During lunch I decided to see how things are going at home.
(Excuse me while I make a mental note)
*Note to self: If you
are away from home and no one is calling from that location to report a fire, a
murder, or make a request for medical insurance information before treating a
patient, do not, I repeat DO NOT voluntarily call the dwelling. I’m serious. Resist the urge! You think I’m kidding, I know. But seriously, DON’T! I mean it!
It’s hard to say exactly how or what went wrong and when it
did, but let’s just say that the amount of crying and wailing and gnashing of
teeth was apocalyptic. There was nothing
I could do about this book report when I had never read the book and I was 30+
miles away.
This is the point at which a mother must pick her
battles. It is not fair to burden the
older child with a younger child who cannot and/or will not focus. Especially if the older child is one who will
blame herself for her brother’s failures!
The people lucky enough to be in this rural high school
cafeteria in earshot of my phone call heard something like this:
“Charlie, calm down and listen to
me……..Charlie……Charlie………….Charlieeeeee!
Listen. If you can’t do the
report that’s….Charlie? Are you
breathing? Listen. To. Me. Breathe.
Get yourself together and you can go to your friend’s house. But here’s the deal,….. Charlie?
Get a Kleenex……… (3 minutes of silence from me as I listen to banging
and scratching against the phone)….Okay are you back? Go get yourself dressed and ask one of your
sisters to walk you to Lachlan’s* house.
BUT….are you listening? We are
spending the day tomorrow working on the book report. You may not watch TV; you may not go to your classmates’
birthday party at the horse farm, no Kindle, no Wii, no computer. Got it?
Charlie? Got it? Okay, just making sure. Yes, I love you too!”
*The name of Charlie’s friend has been changed in order to
protect the innocent. Also, he's Australian so I picked the Australian-ist name I could find!
Tali’s team should have won the last of their games with no
problem. Unfortunately, there was a
problem…it’s called girls can be so annoying.
Some of the girls were criticizing the others for not playing well and
then the tears started. (Her volleyball
team is a blog post or two in itself)
Thankfully, Tali does not let herself get caught up in that garbage. I try not to be one of “those psycho sports moms”
but I get very caught up in the game and I want them to win if they can. I used to be a cheerleader, what can I say?
The drive home consisted of an explanation of the drama that
was occurring on the court, then pretty much silence. We were both very bummed.
Charlie called to say that no one would walk him to Lachlan’s
house so he could get a ride to another friends’ birthday party. That was another 10 minutes of tears until I
got Josie on the phone and she agreed to walk him. Josie got Charlie to Lachlan’s
house and Lachlan’s parents got Charlie to the birthday party.
Lachlan’s parents were having people over to watch the
Australian Rules Football finals. I really
don’t know what that means, but I knew that alcohol was involved. I threw together a 7 layer dip, got Sawyer
dressed and got over there as soon as I could.
The place was full of Aussie’s which makes me happy because I love to
listen to them talk. I usually only get
every 2nd or 3rd word, but after a few drinks it somehow
become easier to understand them. I had
no clue what was going on with the game, but when my friend cheered, I cheered!
After only one beer, I found myself joining in the conversation
saying things such as:
“Crikey mate! Did you
see that bloke? What a bludger!”
and
“Aerial pingpong is quite the bottler, eh?”
Sawyer likes to play at their house because they have
Electronic Battleship. We had a few
tears when two of the kids wanted to play with him. One little girl said, “I know ‘im, that’s
Sawyer. He cries a bit at school.”
Although it sounded adorable, all I could think was, “Great,
even the International kids think he’s weird!”
Anyway, we got the girls to do something else and Sawyer was fine until
a 2yr old British boy became intrigued with Sawyer’s game. He just wanted to play. The Dad and I tried to run interference, but
he was quick. Sawyer got to the point
where the kid would get within 5 feet of the game and Sauce would just fall over
and start crying. Fun times!
Charlie and his friend got a ride back to the house where
Sawyer and I were. All the boys went
outside to toss some odd looking ball around and get dirty. I had a few moments of peace and used them to
have another drink! Josie called to say
she was going to go to church and did I want to go with her. I had to pass. Poor Josie…how did she end up with a lush for
a mother? Actually, I hadn’t even
finished my second drink, but I’m sure in her eyes I’m already just a few sips
away from hell.
The game ended with
the brown and yellow team winning (good) and Charlie coming in from outside
with a bloody nose (bad). Of course what
could be more appropriate than a bloody nose at a rugby-like, yet not a rugby game?
It was at that point I ran to the commissary to pick up a
cake for Charlie. I had thought we would
go to dinner, but it was getting late and we didn’t have time to go somewhere
that they would have desert, much less sing.
The girls called and asked if they could go bowling at
7. It was 6. We still had yet to do presents, dinner or
cake. I took the boys and Lachlan with
me to go get the girls. Charlie agreed
that McDonalds would be the fastest. We
drove to McDonalds and ordered the regular with one extra burger for Lachlan. Because it was Charlie’s birthday and all the
kids are usually begging Sawyer for extra nuggets, I got him a 10 piece.
We drove back to the house and the girls inhaled their
food. They told Charlie to hurry up and
open his presents. He did a great job
tearing through everything. Let’s just
say it was a Duck Dynasty Birthday and leave it at that. Charlie was very happy. By the time he was done a few other kids had
arrived to get a ride to the bowling alley.
As I was getting the car keys, I saw a burger sitting on the
table.
“Lachlan, did you eat?”
“No ma’am.”
“Why not?”
“No one gave me a burger.”
“Now you know, when you are at the Carltons, you need to
speak up.”
“I don’t believe Charles has eaten his either.”
“Charlie? Did you
eat?”
“No!” he said with agitation.
“Girls, where is Charlie’s burger?”
This was met with a few grunts, shrugs and someone saying
there were only four burgers in the bag.
Note to self: ALWAYS,
ALWAYS COUNT THE FREAKING BURGERS BEFORE DRIVING AWAY!!!
We piled a bunch of kids into the car and drove to the
bowling alley. I dropped them off and
waited the obligatory 5 minutes to make sure there was someone there that made
it worth staying. After that, we drove
Lachlan home. I felt obliged to go in
with him and explain to his parents that I almost forgot to feed him and please
remind him to speak up when he’s at our house.
I’d rather fess up now, than have them talking about me every time
someone didn’t get their food. “Remember
that American woman who forgot to feed our son?”
By some miracle I was down to two kids in my care. From the munching in the back seat, I knew
that Sawyer had gotten his nuggets and that he was sharing with Charlie.
“Charlie, are you having some of Sawyer’s nuggets?”
“Yeah.” (Notice his friend answered my question with a
“Ma’am.”)
“Will those fill you up for dinner?”
“They’ll be enough until we go back to McDonalds for my
hamburger.”
“Really? You want to
go back?”
“Moooooommmmmm, it’s my birthday. Shouldn’t I at least get the hamburger I ordered?”
Any God-fearing Catholic child knows the power of a good
guilt trip.
“Okay, Charlie, you’re right. We’ll go back.”
I drive all the way back to McDonalds, which in the scheme
of things is not really that far.
However, in that moment, it was as if someone told me I had to drive to
Colorado. I was getting tired and the
boys, though chattering in the back, were not fighting, which told me they were
tired too.
As soon as we turned into the parking lot, I could see the
drive through lane, which had been empty before, had a pretty good conga line
going. Why was McDs packed at 9:07 on a
Saturday night? Didn’t these people have
anything better to do? Oh, right. We live in Leavenworth, KS…they don’t have
anything better to do.
We waited behind 6, SIX cars to pull up to the ordering
station where I spoke with one of Charlie Brown’s parents. After explaining that we didn’t get one of
our burgers, I was able to make out some garble about the second window.
It was then I noticed the near silence in the back seat.
“Charla, are you awake?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, we’re gonna get your burger in a second. There are just a couple more cars ahead of us.”
“K”
Answers consisting of a single letter signal one of two
things in my house.
1. I am talking to a teenager.
2. I am talking to someone who is about to fall asleep.
“Hang in there buddy.
Don’t fall asleep! We are almost
there and you can get your dinner.
Seriously, Charlie, don’t fall asleep.”
“K”
I pull up to the window and inform the girl that we are back
because we didn’t get one of our burgers the last time I was at her window.
“Wow. That took
awhile.” She said.
“Well, we drove all the way back to post, we didn’t eat
right away and even after we realized there was a sandwich missing, I had to
drop some kids off at different places.
I came back as soon as I could.”
“No, I meant it took you awhile to get from the ordering box
to the window.”
“Oh. Yes, well that too!”
“Oh. Yes, well that too!”
She hands me the brown lunch sack size bag with a pitiful
lone burger and one lousy napkin without so much as a “sorry for your
inconvenience.”
I smile sweetly and say “Thank you.”
I pull away from the window and my heart hits my stomach
with a thud.
“Charlie?”
Nothing. Not even a
letter!
“Charlie, hon, I have your hamburger.”
That’s when the faint snore comes through loud and
clear. Both boys are racked out in the
back of the van.
Un-flippin-believable!
Actually, no it’s not, it’s completely believable…this is so
believable in fact, that if having to bet on the outcome of the evening, I
could’ve doubled our savings account.
I sigh and turn the radio up as I drive all the way back
through the thriving metropolis of downtown Leavenworth, KS missing my
husband. And then I heard it. Like a telepathic message the radio played
one of his all time favorite songs.
“1, 2, 3, and to the fo”
Could it be?
“Snoop Doggy Dogg and Dr. Dre is at the door.”
I could hear my husband Charlie’s voice rapping this entire
song word for word on one of our first dates.
(Pretty impressive for a white guy- he scored big points for that) I turned the back speakers off and cranked
the pitiful minivan radio. For just a
few minutes I was that girl again, riding in a BMW convertible with the top
down, Snoop blaring in my ears, my only concern was making sure I got up for
work in the morning.
I think God must’ve felt very sorry for me in
order for Him to choose that song, to make me feel better. It helped.
It really helped. And little did
I know all those years ago, in Arlington, VA that I would one day find such
deep comfort in a “G Thang.”
And so my friends and readers, until I write again; I will
close with the immortal words of Andre Romelle Young and
Calvin Cordozar Broadus, Jr.:
It's
like this and like that and like this and uh
It's like that and like this and like that and uh
It's like this, and we ain't got no love for those
So jus' chill, 'til the next episode.
It's like that and like this and like that and uh
It's like this, and we ain't got no love for those
So jus' chill, 'til the next episode.
No comments:
Post a Comment