Movie Night

With our work schedules, Hubby and I haven't had the opportunity to do something all as a family in a while. So when my work was hosting an outdoor showing of Star Trek we plucked at the chance. Camping chairs, check. Blankets, check. Jackets, check. Keeping it a mystery surprise for kids, check (until I slipped up twenty minutes before leaving).


We parked, unloaded - which is an ordeal in and of itself with 4 kids to wrangle - then walked into the courtyard where the screen, popcorn, and candy were waiting.

The older kids are comfortable with my work from all the employee family stuff it used put on, but for the little boys this was a true adventure. They ran around the courtyard, chatted it up with my coworkers, and tried to escape and explore while waiting for dark to set in.

In a funny way with the outdoor setting, blankets, and screen it reminded me of the drive-in.

I used to love the drive-in. The summer nights, dusty lot, funky speakers, and large screen. My sister, brother and I would crawl onto the roof and lay out under a blanket on a sleeping bag. As the middle child, I was obligated to the middle position. It was the rare occasion when that was okay because it meant I was also the popcorn holder and never had to fight for the blanket.

Most of the time I'd end up watching the people in the adjacent cars. Wondering who they were, if they were enjoying the show, what they were talking about. I miss those drive-in's.

Looking down at the kids, all laying down under the blanket giggling and whispering I was glad we'd taken the time to go. It's not the full drive-in sibling experience from my childhood, but was a little touch of memory they could share and remember when they grow up.

There was something I never got to experience that I wish I had...seeing a cool helicopter at the end of the evening.

Monster's Under the Bed

I spot Super Wy peeking from the hallway. His cute curly hair mussed up on his head, his blue eyes pensively watching me.

"It's time for bed, Sweetie."

"My room dark and not nice," he says very quietly.

"Not nice, huh? Why is it not nice?"

He points and gestures in an almost politician style and makes his case. "It really dark, with monsters under the bed...and in the closet. They no afraid of the tv. Holy Terror is sleepin'..."

He darts a look back towards his room, then to Drama Queen's door. I can almost see the light blub spark above his head.

"Drama Queen's room is very nice. Monster don't go there. And her bed comfy. And she loves me." He looks at me with that Hubby smile he inherited, his eyes twinkling just like his dad's. "She not sleepin'."

I laugh. I know I can't resist him. He knows I can't resist him. "Okay...go lay with your sister. Love you, Honey."

He tossin' in his infamous cupid smile and then heads towards Drama Queen's room. "Kay. Luv you."

Mommy's Day

What a great day!

Mother's Day was so awesome and my husband and kids were so great. They do Mother's Day so wonderful. Breakfast in the morning, spoiling all day long, and pizza and movies in the evening.

As Moms, we don't expect reward for taking care of our kids and making the best life possible for them. The joy and need comes naturally to us...like breathing, walking, and talking. It's what we're suppose to do...and doing it completes us as a person.

But it is nice when your family shows appreciation for the work involved in being a Mommy. When they show what you mean to them. As the kids grow up, it becomes harder to define what part we play in their lives anymore. That visual slice becomes smaller and smaller. So when the teenagers give those extra hugs, kisses, laughter, and smiles on Mommy's Day to show that I still am an important part in their hearts, it means a lot.

And the little boys were so excited, this was the first year they fully participated in the festivities. They loved it so much they didn't want it to end.

Super Wy laid in my lap after nap, playing with my hand and said, "I wish everyday was Mommy's Day."

...to me, everyday IS Mommy's Day and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Dinosaur Keeper

Super Wy comes running in from the backyard.

"Mom, Mom, where are my shoes?!" He asks bouncing up and down on his toes. "I got to work."

"What are you going to do, Honey?" I ask absently while reading over my daughter's chosen high school electives for next year.

His face goes very serious and he points like a instructor. "I'm picking up dinosaur poo."

I try very hard not to scrunch my face is disgust. Before I can follow up on that little jewel he continues.

"I need ta' pick up Dinosaur poo and find dinosaur eggs."

From the kitchen my oldest son's head pops out, a big guilty grin on his face. I remember it is his turn to pick up the dog droppings from the backyard.

"Moooommmmm...where's my shoes?!"

Now, my dilemma: Do I let my littlest enjoy the "adventure" or do I admonish my eldest for trickery?

"They're in the closest. Have fun."

...Why dash his hopes?

Making an Impact

Growing up, my dreams evolved but one constant theme stuck. I always wanted to make an impact. To have a big dent in this world stamped with "Amber was here".

It started rudimentary enough with dreams of becoming Optimus Prime, which led to Wonder Woman, Bruce Lee, an astronaut, and all the way to being an FBI Agent. As you can guess, those career ideas didn't really pan out for various reasons:

• Optimus Prime = not an alien robot
• Wonder Woman = born in US and not in a super female Amazonian tribe
• Bruce Lee = lacked required parts and nationality
• Astronaut = eyesight and motion sickness

FBI Agent...well, now that one was possible. It ended up being the top profession in my aptitude test and all my scores placed me as a prime candidate if that path had...well, let's just say for a long time a small part of me thought I'd failed myself. That I'd not reach my life potential.

Just a small seed, but we all know small seeds fester.

It was some time before I realized everything worked for a reason. I had this hidden mom gene inside that needed to bust through (blast through really). There was this creative and artistic streak that was slowly being smothered by my analytical side. There was this sense of family, nesting, and community slowly suffocating by my need for privacy and solitude.

Now, so many years later, I've started to feel comfortable in my own skin and have built a niche in the world. Not the big moon size crater I'd planned, but a more meaningful and deeper one than I'd ever imagined.

It's hard to take when dreams get dashed, sliced, or dissipate but there really is a reason. Sometimes what you most want isn't what you most want and you don't realize it until the real thing you've been wanting comes along.

No is an Answer

Dr. M looks at us and smiles, "Okay. Height, weight all good and in the 90th percentile. Eyesight excellent. Hearing excellent..."

"Really?" Hubby and I say together in surprise.

"Yup. He's just got a case of selective hearing. Very common I find." Dr. M smiles and turns back to Holy Terror sitting on the exam table.

She goes through the usual physical. Thyroids, joints, ears, belly, and so on. There's a bit of awkwardness with the...well, you parents of boys know that part...

Still reeling from this bit of "weirdness" Dr. M has him stand up and plant his feet, then stands behind him and says, "Okay, now bend over and touch your toes."

"No," Holy Terror gives his - very successful - icy stare and steps away to face her.

"I just have to check your spine."

"No." He's got his shoulders stiffened and looks ready to defend his boundary at any further provocation.

I've been through this before with my oldest and am trying very hard not to burst into laughter. My husband's eyes are gleaming with amusement.

Hubby takes the lead and leans towards Holy Terror, man-to-man like. "Dr. M just needs to see if your spine's straight, Buddy."

"No." It's all very black-and-white, no nonsense here. No.

"Okay. No pressure. What about I see if the ear flusher is ready and come back?" Dr. M gives me a smile over Holy Terror's head and starts to step out. She's been with us since the first and is completely amazing.

I have Hubby hand me Holy Terror's pants. I hold them out to him. "What if we have your pants on? Then will you let her see your back?"

He stares at the pants for a moment and then nods. "Ok."

Now, if he'd still said no...

Mash Potato Flames

Super Wy pokes at his mash potatoes and then looks up at me with his brightest "please" smile.

"Me outta mustard." His smile brightens a notch.

(Notice he doesn't ask for anything to go with the mustard...he just eats the mustard El solo.)

"Not until you finish your veges and potatoes."

Disgust flashes across his face for a millisecond before it turns grave. "No. Can't. They make fire on my tongue."

"What?" I ask, incredulous. "The mash potatoes will light your tongue on fire?"

He nods his head slowly up and down and looks very seriously at me. "Yeah."

...Can't Super Wy come up with a non-drama reason to NOT eat his mash potatoes? Of course not.