7:05 p.m.

Up the hill we walk, stepping into the incline of the Boulevard, increasing-breathing harder, exchanging smiles and glances. Her white tails flip back and forth in her cadence. Her hair pulled back, hair pinned again and again leaving no questions regarding a single strand.

Tae Kwon Do is less than an eighth of a mile, perhaps even less, we walk together tonight since the rare occasion of not needing to be at home is an option. She steps slightly ahead of me, enough to give my viewing of her an advantage of full sight, pulling forward, small comment, waving back and forth, stepping into the night's activities, making comments. She is almost as tall as I and anyone who knows me knows that this is no small feet and as much filling these shoes, she steadies herself, quietly pausing, however anxious to lead. Since leaving the screaming of the coaching of Club Soccer, of the whining, but loosing the team, the group, the belonging, she has chosen the singular Focus, kicking the shit out a poor instructors hands, gloved, but not enough for velocity that comes from the hinge of those hips, and comes home face flushed-blistered, empowered by her own space, carved out of our conjoined lives, as her own, knowing she is yet stronger still.

She wishes for the ball. But is happy to have respite. She focuses on improvements and knows that the more she comes to it, the more IT will come to her. As always in the unspoken ways, I am in Awe of her. I wish I could take credit for her creation, but that is a lie. It is she who creates herself and creates MORE of me. And bouncing, strapped to her back, a small pink dot across the intersection as I watch her walk away, the gentle rise and fall, rise and fall, "Choose to Matter" she has taken it to her heart and I know, I will see it more and more to come, in the blossoming of my beautiful daughter.

Schooler

With her braid like pig tails, she charges out the door, stabbing the street with every step, plaid skirt swaying towards 8th grade. She is alive and vibrant, plated and bejeweled subtly so not to distract the morning's lessons. My girl, my love, my baby soon to be a high schooler and me, in my my mind in grad. school-perpetually. All the prayers I have for her unfold and she smiles and quips and spins and jokes and I have to stop and BE with her and sit in consciousness to notice that it is happening, she is here, she is so lovely and I am hopelessly in love with her. Her touch, her sweet ness, the spark of her woman-hood shrouds her and sits in the shadow creeping ever closer and my own light casting it's shadow still strong and my resolve ever vigilant. My heart expands and my life enriched as she breathes another day and makes silly faces and forgets to brush her teeth and sets my world a wonder and for her I am truly grateful.

Multi-tasking

When your bulk size laundry detergent falls on top of your party-size pack of ribs, it's considered tenderizing

The So. Cal. Rain

On days like this one, when the clouds flatten out so much so they become droplets I crave all things fatty. Alfredo sauce, corn bread, fresh mozzarella, not together of course. I purposefully resist the temptation to bake something anything really. All day long I want tea or coffee and there is never enough caffeine to jump start my engine. My son insists on 'home made chicken noodle soup and hot chocolate' and my daughter trolls in the kitchen for anything that's not moving, but it must be warmed up. They both beg for a fire in the fireplace. I find myself so disoriented to the time and all my "Let's get going" has gone without me.

The kids celebrate the rain. Fiona goes insane when it down pours and is prone to frenzy running out in the yard screaming the obvious her arms outreached as if God itself is inviting her home, "It's raining, it's raining!". Ian loves it so much he insists on "Going for a walk" in the rain, which means he puts on his hoody and walks down the street to the dead end and then comes back drenched and contented that he is a man of the wet-calm.

Quite a contrast to the endless days of rain when I was a child and not enough sunny days filled with exhilaration and anticipation. The So. Cal. sunny days of post cards and tanning lotion are our every day and yes that was done on purpose. Rain and sunshine. Productivity and sluggishness. Football and Soccer games in extreme heat and coldness and lightning. Such is the passing of time well balanced, whether I want it or not. For it all with my breath I am grateful.

Darn

Sliding glass door was stuck. Was it the Sting Ray? No, it was the Lego Darth Vader!

silly Mama!

Parenthood.....The Great Mystery

I just purchased a book on Amazon that was recommended by a psychologist. I expressed frustration regarding some of my child's shortcomings, I mean, "developmental phases". He wrote me back suggesting knowledge could take the edge off my frustration and included the link to the book. I'm expecting ALL the answers.

Is it wrong to expect an adolescent and child mind to act like an adult? Well of course, but indeed I do expect it every darn day. I have a complete laps in memory of what it was like to be a kid and therefore rarely take their point of view. With so many activities and things to do in an afternoon and evening it's too hard to empathize. I need results! Homework, needs to get done! Dinner, needs to get done! Getting ready for and schlepping to practice, needs to get done! Cleanup, bedtime and overall good homey feelings, needs to get done! There's no time for kids brains in our life. But it's all for them? They want to play sports, they have to do homework, I'm not doing all the dishes!

Parenting! I'd like to publish a book, "Parenting, WTF?" a short story.

Perhaps the secret is embracing the chaos. Everyone who's children have left the nest remind me that I'll miss it all and I'm sure they're right. In the meantime, I guess we'll just continue winging it, perhaps with a little more information.

BTW here's the recommended book: "Why do they act that way? A Survival Guide to the Adolescent Brain for you and your teen" by David Allen Walsh.

Since receiving his helmet last night

Since receiving his Football helmet last evening Ian has:

1. brushed his teeth with his helmet on
2. kissed me with his helmet on
3. wedged a baseball between his mouth guard and his forehead walking around the house with a ball stuck to his the face
4. sauntered in front of the Sparklets Water Delivery man across the street, displaying his helmet by banging his hand against his head at the edge of the yard