When Life Throws You Curve Balls......

Sometimes life throws you curve balls. Even when you fully anticipate it and think you know what you are doing, along comes that pitch that almost takes you out of the game.

You swing hard, but it’s too late.

STRIKE

The anger boils and you want to shout.

Shout about being taking advantage of.

Shout about the lack of gratitude.

Shout about working your tail off for little reward.

Shout about being stabbed in the back.

Shout about friends turning their back on you.

Shout about being rejected.

Shout about not moving forward.

Shout about gaining a couple pounds.

Shout about shouting.

But what good does shouting do. It’s small and bitter and gets you nowhere.

Which is why you gotta get it out, right?

At some point during the shouting, the intense chutzpah needed to fight life back catches you.

It’s up to you.

It’s up to you to either walk away with your head down, feet dragging or to step up to the plate, keep your eye on the ball and start swinging.

It takes three strikes to put you out.

Come back swinging harder and faster than ever have before.

Look life in the eye and say, “Is that the best you've got, because it was piss weak.

Go on and try that again.

The next curve ball you throw, I'm gonna hit outta the park." 

Hold on, I Wanna Call a Do-Over..

When I was a kid, I used to call “do-overs.” It happened a lot when we would play kick ball.

Kick the ball off the side of your foot? Just call a do-over and you got another chance. Of course this depended on who you were playing with. When playing with my dad, he wouldn't hear of a do-over…no %#@*’n way…but if you were with kids who liked do-overs, you could call one and get a second chance.

The do-over was one of childhood's most potent customs, for it applied our power over the laws of space and time. The clock was rolled back, the game was restored to its exact status as before the challenged event and play was resumed. If the original play was important and the second attempt was dramatically different (ex: the player striking out instead of hitting a multi-base shot as in the original play), the do-over might be used again. This second request would give the team another chance thereby insuring that the universal forces of fair play were being honestly maintained.

Last Friday when I arrived home from work, a familiar silver car was in the driveway.  When I walked into the house, I saw a couple empty water bottles on my kitchen counter.  The silverware drawer was part way open.  I saw that the ketchup bottle left out.  I saw a La Roche baseball hat on my dining room table.  When I looked outside,  I saw the glider on the back patio gliding back and forth….I saw Tyler….headphones on, eyes closed, rocking on the glider. 

My boy was home!

Yesterday when I arrived home from work there was no silver car in the driveway.  The kitchen was just as I left it when I went to work….no empty water bottles, no ketchup left out, no La Roche baseball hat lying around.  It was quiet. Too quiet.  I looked out onto the back patio.  I don’t know why I did.  I knew he wasn't there……

So, I’d like a do-over.  I’d like to roll the clock back to yesterday afternoon.  I want to do-over this weekend and make it like last weekend. 

Tyler and Briana were both home last weekend.  It was a great time!  They spent time together at both homes and both families spent Saturday night together at the Canfield Fair.  The kids decided to head back to Pittsburgh early Monday since they had homework. The long holiday weekend wasn't long enough.  “They” say it gets easier each time your child leaves to return to college.  I think “they” are full of beans! 

 So far this weekend sucks.  I feel sad and grumpy.  My house is too quiet.  I'd simply like to call a do-over.  

Wouldn't it be great if we could just rewind our lives and have a do over whenever we wanted? Imagine the untold blessings it would bring if we could simply call a do-over--- to roll back the clock to an exact time when life was perfect...

Makes sense to me....

It's Official....I'm an Empty Nester.....

It’s been a week….

A week ago I left Tyler at La Roche. That final hug was a lot more difficult than I had expected.  My only child is now living among people I do not know, in an unfamiliar environment.  The freshman class has students from 15 countries, not including the United States.  I feel the anxiety daily and feel helpless as a parent.

I’m not going to lie…so far this empty nest stuff sucks!  My house is too quiet.  My house is too clean.  The laundry basket is too empty.  My grocery list is too short.  I laugh and smile too little and spend way too much time talking to my kitten. 

People say, enjoy it…..relax….do things you've always wanted to do…. Blah, blah, blah. I was doing what I wanted to do.  I enjoyed being busy.  I didn't want to relax.  I enjoyed the craziness of our evenings.  It kept me engaged and more importantly, it kept my brain occupied.  I miss it and it’s only been a week.  

Today at work as I was going through the Acceptable Use Policy forms that the middle school students turn in, I was reminded that I no longer have to do that for Tyler. 

And that actually made me smile!

I do not miss filling out the same forms every fall for school with the same information every….single….year…..by hand.  Duplicate sometimes. We live in a world of technology where toddlers can take selfies on an iphone and a cat can play a game on an ipad!   But we still need to fill out school forms by hand.  Every…Single…Year…..

Are there other things I won’t miss now that Tyler is in college?

Living with a moody teenager: I would cringe having friends or family around when Tyler was in one of his moods.  One minute he was a brat, the next minute he was amazingly nice; then he didn't talk; the next you couldn't shut him up. I never knew what to expect from one day or one minute to the next.

Shoes, shoes and more shoes:  I have one child with two feet.  This means he can wear only two shoes at one time.  My entry way constantly looked as though I had three or more children. 

The "know it all" attitude: I went from an authority, a valuable source of information to knowing nothing and I was totally incompetent as it relates to most subjects. On the other hand, he knew it all and had all the answers.

HOMEWORK.  'Nuff said......

Open Drawers:  I’m not sure why this was a difficult one for my son.  After all, he closed it MOST of the way.  Why not give it a smidge more and close it all the way? 

Water Bottles:  Empty…full…half-full….half-empty.  I’d find them everywhere. They were from him....they were from his friends....maybe ghosts were partying at night while we slept....who knows!

College Process:  College applications, essays, application fees. The common app, submit buttons, extra-curriculars, teacher recommendations, PSATS, SATS, ACTS, financial aid, deadlines, safety schools, reach schools, match schools.

NO TP:  Tyler was the master of having just enough TP for him and always left the empty roll for me to take care of.

Can I get that in a gallon size?:  The boy loved his ketchup!  I can now downsize the size ketchup bottle I buy and how often I need to buy it.

Got food?:  Every day I received a text saying, “what we eating”.  That’s how it was worded….what we eating.  And if I didn't get back to him right away I received a second text with a “?”. 

Tyler will be home tomorrow, along with his dirty laundry.  I will have a few days of scattered shoes, half-open drawers, water bottles lying around and lots of laughter and smiles!  For those few days my grown up son will be my little boy again. 

On Monday I will feel that mixture of Momma pride-anxiety-sadness-happiness all over again….and once again letting go after that final hug won’t be easy. I've heard it get easier.....

After he leaves I’ll pick up the empty water bottles and throw them away and I’ll push his dresser drawers closed and I’ll remind myself that this is how it is supposed to be. This is my life for at least the next four years. Then I will sit with Cali and tell her my thoughts about the weekend while waiting for the text saying he’s in his dorm room.

It’s hard to resist the urge to smother. I’m trying to find a balance of the right amount of texts and calls so he knows I’m thinking of him, without seeming like a helicopter parent. I know he will brush his teeth and change his underwear and probably even change the empty roll of TP at some point.

But that is for him to figure out.  I mean, I hope he will be able to change an empty roll of TP by the time he graduates…..right?

I've Got 99 Problems, but Ronda Isn't One of Them.......

I stopped by my friend Ronda’s house the other day unannounced.  Her husband was in the garage so I hollered as I was getting out of the car, “Hey, Bill!”

“Hi Kim. Ronda is out back.”

As I headed through the garage, Bill yelled, “Ronda, Kim is here! Kim!  Kim Booher!....KIM! Maybe you should put your shirt on!”

Yikes! She must be in the pool, I thought. 

As I stepped out of the garage, I heard Ronda yell to her son, “Can you hand me my top?”

                         

He looked at me and rolled his eyes and said, “I’m helping dad.”

Bill said, “You get it, RonDAAA.”

“I can’t reach it, Billllllll.”

“I’ll hand it to you.  I’m coming over there anyhow.” I said. 

This is soooo typical of my friends which I why I love them so much!  Ronda and I have been friends for over twenty years.  Through the years we’ve vacationed together, worked out together, shopped together, and camped together.  We’ve shared secrets, laughs and tears of joy and sadness.  We’ve sat together in church and suppressed giggles when she’d see me putting lipstick on for the third time.  We’ve shared hours together listening to every cassette the Jerky Boys ever made ( “This is Frank Rizzo.  Thatttt’s right, tough guy. ….”)  and I think we’ve watched every episode of “COPS” produced!  We were also there for each other when we lost loved ones.  We provided comfort and support for one another along with endless prayers. 

Our families used to spend every weekend together.  And believe me, it was ALWAYS an adventure!  But sometimes life gets in the way. It happens.  What was once your number one priority gets pushed to the back burner. Friends that you thought you’d never go a day without speaking to drift off into their own lives. The days pass and your new reality takes over as the memories get pushed down into the deepest spaces of your mind and heart…always there, just hidden from view.  But when the stars and the moon align and we get to hang out, we pick up right where we left off. 

That’s exactly what happened after Ronda put her swimsuit top on the other day.  She floated on her raft and I sat on the steps with my feet in the cool water.  A few days after that she texted to say she was coming over to meet my new kitten, Cali.  She showed up with a cooler of Corona and a lime.  For a couple hours, it was just her and I. With Ronda I don’t have to pretend.  I can be myself…my realest and most honest self. 

It doesn’t matter how often we keep in touch, and it doesn’t matter when Ronda and I will have time to hang out again. I know that when we do there won’t be that awkward small talk in the beginning; we will just start talking and teasing as though we never drifted.   

So, Happy Birthday to my friend, Ronda!

Here’s to the crap we would talk

During the miles we would walk.

Here’s to the way we shop

And the laughs we can’t stop.

Here’s to the gossip we spill

With Coronas on ice to chill.

Here’s to going out to dinner

And making sure yours is a winner.  

Here’s to me having a lime

When you come over next time.

Here’s to the random memories that make me smile

Even if I haven’t seen you in awhile.

I love you and wish you nothing but the best.  

PS....We REALLY need a couple newer pictures together pronto!

Conquering the Countdown

Parenthood has two big transitions, when our children arrive and when they leave.  I think I managed the first quite well and in 14 days, 22 hours, 4 minutes and 59 seconds I will discover how well I handle the second.   A once in a lifetime occurrence….Tyler will only start college once.  Such moments are rare. They have power.

I've spent a year thinking and whining and blogging over my feelings and how I was full of emotion.  But what about him? How does Tyler feel?  He’s leaving his secure nest.  His group of friends.  His girlfriend.  He’s an only child that has to share nothing with anyone.  He has someone to do his laundry and pick up his shoes and to make sure that he eats.  How is Tyler going to handle this transition? 

Yesterday we went to La Roche for textbooks.  It was a beautiful day to visit the campus.  Tyler invited his friend Lucas to come along.  Lucas has been Tyler’s sidekick for the last few years and I couldn't ask for a better friend for Tyler.  Lucas will be attending Penn State Main in the fall and is very excited about it. 

On the way to La Roche, I was explaining to Tyler some of the activities that will occur during “Welcome Week”.  Part of the discussion was that a few of the activities were mandatory.  And just like that, Tyler’s attitude changed.  “Mandatory?  They can’t make me do anything.  What are they going to do? Kick me out?”   His social anxiety kicked in big time. 

Tyler has come a long way in regards to his social anxiety.  Actually, you wouldn't know he suffered from it at all if I didn't broadcast it in my blog :) But when he is in situations or anticipating situations in which he has little or no control, it comes out full blown.  His first reaction is anger followed by an “I’m not doing it” and “you can’t make me” attitude.  That is usually when he and I battle.  I’m still learning all the time how to deal with his anxiety.  I've learned it is best to just change the subject and move on.  His brain needs to process the upcoming situation.  After it does, he will ask questions which will generate the discussion I wanted to have in the first place. 

The reality that “this is happening” is starting to hit Tyler.  The first of their group of friends leaves for Texas this Saturday.  Tyler told me that he plans to be there when his buddy leaves. I had no doubt that my son would be there.  The rest of them leave on August 22 like Tyler except Briana.  She moves in earlier that week.  I can’t even imagine how hard that is going to be…..

I know I've projected an image of being a hyper-controlling “Velcro parent” who is going to have a hard time letting go.  And it’s quite possible that I led you all to believe that I might camp out in Tyler’s room to help the “transition” to college. 

But you know what?

I know it’s going to be okay.  I know that these last couple weeks (14 days, 20 hours, 41 minutes, and 33 seconds) I need to be here for my son. 

There were no other meltdowns yesterday during our visit to La Roche.  I walked behind Tyler and Lucas and stayed out of “eavesdropping” range.  It was kinda cool to watch Tyler show Lucas around the campus and Tyler even let me take a couple pictures!  He didn't get overly mad when I introduced myself to a student outside of his dorm and asked her a few questions.  Turns out that she will be his R.A.!  Sweet!  That will help that he already met her.  And I was mature enough to not ask her for her cell phone number, email address, and twitter name…you know, just in case. 

During the ride home, we talked about La Roche baseball.  Tyler had heard that practice will probably start the first week of classes.  I asked Tyler his thoughts on that. 

“I’m surprised that we start so soon, but I’ll be ready.  I’ll start playing catch this week to get my arm prepared.  It will be good for me to, you know, have something to think about and kinda focus on”.

Yes, I do know.  I knew exactly what he was talking about.  The book was open, revealing the next chapter in his life and he was a little apprehensive about turning the page.  There were so many things I wanted to say.  So many things that needed to be said.  So, I handled it like any good mother would…..

“How about them Buccos?”

In the end, my job as a parent is to leave him with both the right size sheets and a sense that he is well equipped for this next, independent stage of life.  The challenges are no greater or lesser than when he arrived eighteen years ago.  

Deep breath! It’s going to be okay.