Where'd July go??

I missed posting in July, so here are pictures from the month: Jenny and Michael's dogs Daze and Lucy; Andrea being interviewed for Fourth of July Parade coverage. And the July 1st rally in Austin! 

Jenny saving Luna from an attacking Blue Jay.  Headshots of two head-strong females: Finley Scott and Ann Richards.  One a former governor; the other a future governor??

Revealing directions

You know when someone is giving you directions (yes, that still happens), they use landmarks that typically have some local importance.  At least to them.   The landmarks people choose to guide you to a location can tell a lot about that person.

Example.  I was picking up my oldest daughter, the athlete and coach, after she dropped her car off at a tire place.  The street and location I was familiar with; but I asked her what stores or buildings were close by. 

It's across the street from 24 Hour Fitness.  That doesn't help me.

Next to the Whole Vitamins and Foods store.  Nope.  Still not getting anything.

Down the street from Crispy Crème.  Now you're talkin' my language.  I know just where that is.

I still remember when we first moved to Arlington 23 years ago, and we were signing up Andrea for soccer.  Where are the fields, we naively asked?  Just behind the Hypermart.   What's a Hypermart, I wondered but dare not ask because the person said it in such a way that only a fool would not know the location of Hypermart.  Hypermart, it turned out, used to be what Walmart called its superstores.  Now it just sounds like a mental disorder.    

I visit people in their homes and always get funny kinds of directions.  Even though no one needs it anymore what with GPS, it still is important that people, generally older adults, give directions to their home.  It usually starts with something like this: You know where the Exxon station is on the corner across from the fire house? 

How do you answer that?  I lie.  I say I know or I think I know.  It's about building their trust and certainly to some people, not knowing the location of the Exxon station across from the fire house could be cause for suspicion.  It's also is about gaining immediate insight into a client.  The reliance on landmarks may reveal a person who has spent most of their lives in a relatively small area.  Their universe is what's around them.  And in this example, it was an Exxon station across from the fire house.

Anyway ... I better wrap up this post, I gotta get going to see my first client for today.  The one that you take a left at the strip club and a right at the liquor store....

Taking the plunge

End of the school year always feels special.  I guess because my two daughters are teachers, I still get to share in that feeling.  Thursday is Jenny's last day with her kindergarten class.  She says it will be tough to say goodbye.  Andrea is helping with high school graduation on Saturday, then she should be done. 

Parents can kick back and relax a little.  No homework.  No projects due.  Laundry is not as important (or was that just me?) 

In the south the heat slows things down, too.

This summer I have made a special promise to myself to go to my city's spectacular water park - in a swimsuit!  Vanity be damned. 

That place holds some of my best memories of the kids when they were little.  Also of Paul and me having fun.  There's this funnel slide that took my breath away.  Literally.  Paul and I shared a tube and all the terrifying way down, I could not stop laughing and I couldn't catch my breath.  I can close my eyes and feel what I felt that day some 20 years ago.  It was exhilarating!

I don't necessarily want to repeat that experience, but I do want to play in the water park.  I miss it and it's about time I get over myself and embrace my expanded body.  It's my stupid false pride and the delusion that I would lose the weight that has kept me away. 

Not this summer! 

Dallas Arboretum: A pictorial

Paulie took me to the Dallas Arboretum.  My favorite pic of the day.

Paulie and his newest best friend, who looks a lot like me, hanging buttocks and all.

Several 15 year olds were taking their quinceanera pics.  Even among the flowers, their colorful dresses stood out!

 

I wish you could feel this plant.  Think velvet!

One of the many great hallways. 

Mom

My mom is going to be 86 on her next birthday in June.  She is fragile and frail and .... wait.  That's me.

My mom can text on her cell phone.  My mom is taking yoga.  My mom runs a library for the residents in her living community.  My mom is my father's caregiver - he has Alzheimer's.  "Shirley takes good care of me," he recently told a visitor.  My mom occasionally cares for her great granddaughters who are a handful for anyone of any age.  I don't think there's anything my mom can't do. 

My mom is amazing!

My mom with her great grandsons and son and husband.

 

 

She's all boy!

I cringe every time I hear someone pronounce: “He’s all boy.”  Same as I hold my tongue when people use the word tomboy to describe a female child or adult.  These sentiments are way outdated.  Children are children.  Some boys and girls like to climb trees and play rough.  Some boys and girls like to sing and dance and play house.

I’ve had this aversion to these unnecessary adjectives since my son and two daughters were little.  My kids know how I feel and I believe they share my feeling.  Problem is, I am now a grandmother and don't really feel like holding my tongue anymore.  

I pledge, on this Mother’s Day, May 12, 2013, that I will no longer be silent.  It will be my cause to eradicate these over-used and inaccurate labels from the face of the earth.  To do so, I must bring out the big guns: humor and teasing - and, if called for, a touch of shaming. 

From now on: My son was a tomboy growing up.  He liked sports and messing around in the neighborhood creek and getting dirty and all that stuff.  My daughters were all boy, they liked sports and messing around in the neighborhood creek and getting dirty and all that stuff.

Here’s some recent pictures of my youngest granddaughter Finley, 18 months old.
  By the way, she LOVES bugs and mud and food and play and ... well, you get the idea.  She's all boy!

Finley with her wonderful mother, who, as a child, was all boy!

 

Birth order

The psychology of birth order has been around for decades.  It goes something like this: oldest child is the boss, middle child is neglected, and the youngest child is adored.

Generally speaking, birth order is spot on.  At least in our household.  We reared three children, loved them all equally, but for sure Andrea, oldest child, was the self-appointed leader; Jenny, middle, was neglected – at least during her early years; and, to this day, our youngest, John, can do no wrong.

This morning it occurred to me that the psychology of birth order was still alive and raging in our household.  It hit me after looking at recently taken pictures.  They all were of the newest member of our family: Sammie, our 6-month-old border collie.  Mika, the middle dog at 9 years, was visible in some of the frames, but only because of her proximity to the puppy.  Baxter, the oldest, is there, too.  In one photo she can be seen “leading” from her perch atop an outdoor cushioned chair. 

We haven’t always had three dogs.  It was about seven years ago that we first upped the number of canines in our home from two to three, just about the same time we were coincidentally empty nesting.  Were we replacing our children with dogs??  At least one neighbor thought so.  While walking all three dogs, he hollers, “Which one is Andrea?”

Have our dogs taken the children’s place?  In our hearts, no.  In our home, yes.  Ok, sorta in our hearts, too.

Below are some of my recent pics.

How adorable is she??

Bax: Perched and ready to lead, if necessary and/or awake.

Mika herding Addison.  Always.

   

GOOOOAALLLLLL!!!

 

Move over Mika, you're blocking Sammie.

Grandpa's helpers.

 

Dog house with a view.