It was the Summer of ‘95

When I was your age…

Recently at a young family members birthday party it was brought to my attention that my cousin’s son will soon turn 13.  He’s the oldest of my cousins’ kids on that side of the family.  I was 15 when his young mother brought him into this world.  He’s one of the first family members that I can actually remember being born.  When I think of my life at 13 I shiver at the thought of him doing the things I was doing when I was his age.  I hope his teen years are filled with much more innocent fun than mine, but on the same note I’d never change one single mistake, mischief or memory for those years…  Well maybe I’d take back awful things I said to my mother and I would have wore my retainer to bed like I was told, but over all I count those days as making me who I am today.  Anyhow, here’s a story addition to a previous post, “Two Truth & A Lie”.  You can be the judge of whether I’m telling the truth, a version of the truth or a flat out lie. J  (Some names have been changed to protect identities). 

It was the Summer of ‘95

Pollie (12) & Jaine (13) were BFF’s.  They rollerbladed together, wore matching flannel shirts with combat boots and mini backpacks; they shared an unconditional love for the movie Grease and slid silly pictures on the outside if their binders.  It was July of 1995 and the two were in the middle of another inseparable summer of fun.  With talk of the eighth grade just around the corner the girls teased each other about boys, played countless games of MASH and walked to downtown San Carlos, CA for ice cream and incense every day. 

Sometimes they would stop by the middle school to help their old 6^th and 7^th grade teachers prepare the classrooms for the upcoming year.  Jaine was popular amongst the teachers at Central Middle School with her sweet disposition, her intelligent words and impeccable organization.  Pollie tagged along because she enjoyed the decorating despite the fact the teachers were less than thrilled to see the disruptive student walk back into the classroom.  Regardless of their grades or difference in detentions they were buddies, “sisters” and great friends.  They knew each other like an oreo knows milk and shared their secrets during countless sleepovers.

One warn afternoon while listening to the new Janet Jackson CD and making friendship bracelets Pollie, the more mischievous of the two, had an idea.  She whispered the thought to her BFF and the two young teens giggled as they headed to Pollie’s parent’s garage.  After Pollie boosted the petite Janie up to the garage loft she shouted directions to the tub of camping supplies.  “I think I found it!” Jaine yelled followed by a dust driven sneeze.  With cobwebs in her hair and a nervous grin across her innocent face she asked, “Is this it?” peeking from the edge.  “That’s it! Toss it to me!” Pollie responded as she pulled her SunIn dyed hair with blue sharpie streak into an over sized scrunchie.

By mid-afternoon the two girls had set up the ultimate summer camp in Pollie’s back yard.  It included a 4 sleeper tent with sleeping bags and pillows along with items from throughout the house… a night stand from Pollie’s room, an oscillating fan and a few stuffed animals.  Just outside of the tent the two had set up a hammock they shared.  It was in that hammock, swinging in the summer breeze where they plotted their mischievous plan. 

Once the details were complete they ran through the sliding glass door to Pollie’s Michey Mouse phone.  Jaine listened in on new cordless, and with her perfectly straight teeth pulled up the antenna to avoid static.  Oozing with excitement they made the call to part 3 of the BFF’s, Eve.  Interrupting each other and talking as fast as can be Pollie, Jaine and Eve completed the plan.  Once Eve arrived to Pollie’s place they giggled and used three-way calling to reach Nicky and Carl and Carl’s little bothre.  “Meet us at the handball courts at midnight!”  They hung up the phones and squealed with exhilaration.

Sharply at 5:35pm Pollie’s mom Mandy walked through the door.  Before her pumps could hit the floor Pollie was begging her mom to allow another sleep over, but this time in their new summer camp site.  “We’ll be outside so we won’t even keep you up late!”  Pollie pleaded.  Mandy peeked from the kitchen window into the back yard where she saw the perfectly arranged tent and hammock; she rubbed her tired feet through her nylons and said with a yawn, “if it’s okay with the girl’s parents...”  Before she finished her sentence Jaine and Eve were calling their parents.  High fives and secret handshakes were exchanged after approval all around.

The Mac and Cheese was still warm when the 3 girls gave good night kisses and headed for the tent.  Every minute seemed like an eternity as they waited for the clock to strike midnight.  At 11:30pm they couldn’t take it anymore. They slowly unzipped a portion of tents front door and crawled out as careful as prison escapees.  The sound of their pounding hearts should have awakened Pollie’s parents, but the three girls didn’t dare to take a breath until at least 3 doors down.  Once they passed Burton Park they were shaking with enthusiasm and giggling with nervousness.  Only in San Carlos, CA in 1995 could 3 young teenage girls walk the streets at midnight and only be seen by neighborhood cats.

They held hands and pushed each other forward as they entered the school grounds.  “Do you think they’re here?”  “Shhhhh! Did you hear that?!?!”  Just then three scrawny shadows appeared in the darkness…

Pollie remembers her palm getting sweaty from the tight grip of that nervous boys’ hand.  All three couples leaned against the backstop talking about the adventure of their first sneak out.  Out of the corner of their eyes they saw headlights and ducked into tiny balls.  They all knew something was up because no one drove in that part of San Carlos at this hour.  Just as they thought they were in the clear and as loud as thunder, “POOOOOOOLLLLLLLLIEEEEE!!!”  “JAINEEEEEEEEEEEEE” “EEEEEVVVVEEEE!!!”

Pollie’s throat swelled shut and heart sunk to her toes as the familiar voice of her father echoed through the cool air.  The headlights turned right on the backdrop and the 6 teens froze - still hidden in the shadow of the wall.  Like scared pigeons on opening day of hunting seasons the boys all made a run for it.  They were far for camouflage and the 1992 Toyota Camry zeroed in on the hiding place.

The words between Pollie’s parents and the group of teens are unclear, but I’d imagine your mind can fill in the blanks.  Turns out Jaine’s aunt, who was 9 months pregnant at the time, went into labor that night and Lori, Jaine’s mom, made a late night call to Pollie’s parents to arrange a pick up to head to the hospital.  I can only imagine the look on Mandy’s face when she unzipped the tent to find stuffed animals and pillows in place of the 3 teenage girls.

The tent came down the next morning and the teen age years began.

A Night to Remember

It’s 7:45pm… The girls are asleep after only 4 readings of “The Going to Bed Book” and 3 of “Your Personal Penguin” both by Sandra Boynton.  I was given these books by a co-worker today who showed me the animated interactive version first on her iPad.  I’m instantly a fan of the sweet stories and their charming characters.  Reading them feels almost as sweet as a verse of “Godspeed” by the Dixie Chicks.  To channel what I’m feeling in this moment click here and enjoy the little ones, or not so little ones anymore, in your life. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VqaBof47pmY

Tonight I’ll write a run through of our night time routine using a night like tonight when all goes seamlessly and their soft eyelids are sealed before 8pm.  I’m left feeling calm and thankful for my precious baby girls as I dry up bath tub puddles and gather toddle size clothes from throughout the house.  On a side note – things don’t always go so smoothly, but before I forget how wonderful nights like these are I’ll jot them down so one day I can recall these precious evenings and forget the ones that include tears and rushed lullabies.  Once I’ve completed tonight’s detailed timeline I’ll print these screen shots and place a copy in each of their baby books.  One night when the girls are emotional preteens, who repeatedly try to hate my guts, I can slide their baby book under the door that was slammed in my face in hopes they’ll take a glance and relize I may not be the evil monster they think I am at the moment.  Maybe they’ll take a second to see how much their father and I love them.  I’ll always have the memory of rocking them to each to sleep as I sing (or attempt to sing) “Baby Mine”.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hNSDfwR7u18

It all starts with picking them up at 5:21 after I’ve locked the office door not a minute past 5:00pm.  I’ll take the fast way and travel just 4mph over the speed limit to avoid another ticket.  When I walk into the colorful building filled with miniature furniture, bright colored collages and perfectly sloppy finger paintings - I’ll look for my oldest first.  Her classroom is first down the sun colored hallway and her independent toddler ways are helpful as I gather goodies like fallen bows and blankies that need washing.  The way she slams down the play-dough and yells “mommy!” tells me she’s excited to see me in the doorway.  I usually can get in three steps before she’s wrapped her arms around my legs.  “See my doggie” she says as she points to an oddly shaped lump of homemade play-dough.  “I love it!” I say and I wave to the sweet patient teacher standing above the last two little ones. 

“We get Sizzy?” She’ll say as she skips for the door.  I have to remind her daily to pick up her mess before we go.  “What do you say to Miss H?” I say with my hand on her back attempting to keep her still.  The words “Thank you!” are barley heard as she quickly heads down the long hall for the infant room.

She opens the door to her sisters’ class before I can sign my name on the attendance sheet.  Sizzy is slower to notice mommy as she’s filled with excitement to see her big sister first.  She drops the xylophone when her big sisters hug turns into something resembling a headlock.  The two speak in their own special language as I receive Miss M’s re-cap of my little girls’ day.  How many pees and how many poops, how long of a nap and what was for snack.  The daily log usually has checks marks next to ‘happy’ and the comments review her latest words and new favorite game at school.

Once we’re in the car I turn off the tunes and ask about the day.  We usually get distracted by my toddler tattling on every no-no made by her classmates.  “J said poo poo” and “D hit me”.  I ask her what she should do when that happens and she automatically responds, “PLEASE STOP IT. DON’T LIKE IT!”  Sizzy chimes in with a few claps and babbles and we’re almost home.  Unloading takes a few trips; we get the mail and head inside.  They make a run for the toy box and I make my way to the dreaded birthplace of I’ll call “dinner”.  It’s usually boneless skinless chicken breasts with canned, frozen or fresh veggies (I’ll let you guess which one is most frequent.)  Texas toast and applesauce are common on the plastic princess plates.  Both girls gulp their milk and often ask for more.  When Daddy does dinner we get much better selections since he’s skilled and much more creative in the kitchen.

A few minutes out back or on the living room floor, dad’s favorite kid friendly YouTube songs with a family dance off in the kitchen, then one screaming lap around the house then it’s straight to the tub.  Splish slash and scrub scurb scrub the smell of Johnson and Johnson in the air.  While they squeal over the squirting hippo, daddy readies the tooth brushes and the detangler while I hit the dishes and front room.  By this time there’s usually more water outside the tub then in it.  We pretend not to see their reflections in the mirror and attempt to witness their unique bond.  Daddy and I see who wants who for the remainder of bed time.  Both girls go through phases on who they want, but thankfully they enjoy alternating.  Only Daddy can read them Chicka Chicka Boom Boom because Mommy doesn’t say it right and whoever had a rough day or a shorter nap usually reaches for mommy.  Husband and I grin at each other as we take note on each other strengths.  Every once in a while we may have to ro-sham-bo for who takes the fussier toddler, but it’s usually over before it starts.

After swallow safe tooth paste, kid proof mouth wash and a layer of lavender lotion we head for panties and PJs.  Picking princess or the polka dots is always an issue, then it’s straight to the glider we go.  I love their clean wet hair in the fold of my arm as I turn on my character voices for story time.  Once the book is closed it’s a combination of Eskimo and butterfly kisses, big hugs and a flip to the tummy for rocking and lullaby.  Other than the traditional “Close Your Eyes” song my mother once sang to me I whisper “Baby Mine” until the breathing deepens and I lay them in their crib or toddler bed.

I tip toe out the door just as they peak to see me go.  Before I meet hubby in the front room I switch on the video monitor and grab a glass of sangria.

Good night sleepy heads, sweet dreams & godspeed.  Let’s hope tomorrow is just a easy… Not common to have two perfect nights in a row.

Other favorite week night memories: 

When Dad is control of pre-dinner music we’ll usually end up shaking our booties to Hip Hop or popular 80’s dance music whereas I pull up YouTube Disney songs from the Little Mermaid, Snow White or Cinderella. 

Music and dance is a big part of our evening.  I can’t count how many nights we wait for the pasta to boil as we bump into each other with the music far too loud.  I hope we’re never too busy for our family dance off’s.

Dance classes, Cheer practices, The Little Gym, Tiny Tots, Mommy & Me, and swim lessons…  Working in recreation means my girls are involved in whatever programs are open for such youngsters, but I’m careful not to over schedule just yet.  These evenings call for quick dinners and fast showers.

(I have a trillion pics that would fit perfectly in this blog, but I'm still learning the how to, so bare with me until I figure it out.)

Park Play

In need of cheap entertainment? When's the last time you visited a local park?

Little hand... big "duck"... try explaing to my two little ladies these are not ducks... Walks like a duck, talks like a duck...

Playground party!

No Co... Okay, maybe sometimes

I don't usually allow co-sleeping, but I don't usually follow rules either.  I'm not one for allowing the little ladies in the cal king, but how can anyone resist the sweet snores and soft sighs of anything this cute?

For all you co-sleepers out there, I'm sending you kudos for being able to get your required amount of REM while sharing the covers with these tiny bed hogs. It seems no matter where I place her relaxed head I find myself awake with it digging into my rib cage as her body lay diagonal between me and the mister.  So as soon as that soft sigh turns into an open mouthed full out snore, complete with a bit of baby drool, that cutie-pa-tootie pictured above will be carried like the princess she is to her tousled toddler bed. : ) 

I may be teaching my 18 month old and 2 1/2 year old all about sharing, but tonight I'm only sharing the Cal King with the King of this Castle.

Sweet dreams and Godspeed

A Book Worthy Life?

SPLIT PERSONALITIES

Originally I was going to focus this blog on my perfect little family of 4… The ups, the downs, the stuff that drives me wild and makes me happy at the same time...  I could find something to talk about like what’s behind this white picket fence or I could give silly details on the latest juggling act called the night time routine with two toddlers, but tonight I need something different.

I hear people talk about how different a person they have become from who they were BC (before children).  I am guilty of this exact act; however, I still feel that “then Hollie” in here somewhere.  Sometimes she peeks out and pulls through when I find myself in a little trouble.  Sometimes she plays with fine and flirts with disaster.  Sometimes she grabs a cigarette and swings out back until all hours of the night forgetting that dirty diapers and New York & Co. work slacks will greet her after the alarm clocks sounds…  Maybe she’s still here under a layer of new mommy coat, aka post baby weight; but I remember that girl…  Most commonly I see the “then Hollie” in the eyes and forehead peaking from the rearview mirror of my white SUV.  That is, after all; the one space we are alone for an entire 22 minutes between dropping the kids at the learning academy and arriving at my 8-5 office.  In that 22 minutes (or 17 minutes when it’s been a more than normal hectic morning) the “now Hollie” and the “then Hollie” listen to careless songs about sex, drugs and rock and roll and agree that both Hollie’s are perfectly imperfect and still present together as one adaptable lady.  Before I make myself sound like I have a multiple personalities, I’ll move on.  I’m sure you get the point…

Now that BC (before children) has transitioned into AD (after daughters) I think I’ll go out on a limb and admit to things I probably should sweep under the rug…  Problem is, I think about my life BC all too often and with the gift of social networking I am reminded of the past each time I log in.  The faces are all a little older now, but in the eyes of the tiny profile pictures I can still see the stories we share even though we hesitate to mention them in “public” (aka social networking sites).

TWO TRUTHS & A LIE

I have a few stories I’d like to jot down over the next few weeks… Think of this of as a game of “Two Truths & A Lie”, the only difference is I won’t admit if all or none are truth, semi-truth, exaggerations of the truth or flat out lies for your entertainment.  I’ll just tell you right now that I pled the 5^th on all these stories (names and locations have been changed to protect the identities).   ; )

Story #1 – The Cocktail Waitress

When Mollie moved to a new place with high school sweetheart, Jeff, she found her young inexperienced self searching for a job to help make rent.  As fate would have it, Mollie & Jeff ended up working together at a popular restaurant that would change their lives forever.  Just like the weird weather in this new place, Mollie & Jeff found themselves changing as fast as the seasons.  Neither one of them better nor worse than one another, but both far too different to fit into the same 5 day forecast.  They parted ways until much later in life… That’s a whole different story…

Mollie flourished in her new single skin.  With nothing but unfamiliar faces around her the wide eyed 19 year old brought all she was to the table… including beer and steaks since she landed a job as a waitress.  That waitress position turned into a cocktail waitress then one random night turned into a bar tending gig.  In Mollie’s home town she wasn’t near old enough to tend bar yet, but life was different in this foreign place and it wasn’t just the fact that people could smoke indoors – a big no no in Mollie’s home state of California. 

Mollie met friends with more personalities than characters from your favorite novels.  She pushed the envelope, did things that would make your mother blush and never held back.  Never crossing the line into deadly or stupid, Mollie lived out loud and had no fear.  Somewhere between karaoke dive bars and themed fraternity keggers, Mollie formed friendships with a list of characters as long as the lines at the DMV.  To this day she’ll pass a stranger in the mall and wonder if that could be a crazy friend from that far away place. 

She remembers thanksgivings far from her family, but is thankful for the holidays spent with the families of new boyfriends in that far away land.  She recalls spring break road trips, double wide trailer parties, a Halloween as a California raisin, singing in her underwear with her 4 girl roommates, sleeping through mid-terms, falling in love with a boy with an accent who broke her heart, and most of all countless nights poring beer and mixing liquor to a thousand curious locals.  The California license plates on her little black Jetta got her out of plenty of tickets and reminded her of the place she called “back home”. 

Mollie lived large in that far away land, but after a couple years of living the college life - those California license plates were parked right back at home in her mother’s driveway - ready to start yet another new chapter in her book worthy life. 

They say, “all good things come to an end”, but Mollie knows one day her children will be old enough to hear bits and pieces of that life she was blessed to experience.  One day Mollie hopes her children will find themselves in their own far away land to make memories and form friendships with people all over the world as she once did.

Good night life livers! Stay posted for the next installment of Two Truths & A Lie. : ) Now it's off to lay down this lap sleeping, teething baby girl.

BFF: Best Friends for Five (minutes)

"You no my friend mommy?" says a talkative two year old with pasta sauce on her cheeks and a beat up Barbie in her hand.  "Yes, Tysie, we're friends, and we're family too... I'm your mommy and you're my daughter so that makes us the best of both."  My mouth said the words as my feet "mopped" the floor and I shoved clean sippy cups into the crowed cabinet.  Will she ever know how much I love her and her sister?  Does she know that I want to teach her all that’s wonderful in our world? 
At t- minus 4 months until her third birthday, my spicy Tysie is full of creative conversation and head scratching subjects.  Her latest obsession is the difference between friends and family.  I mistakenly corrected my little literal one when she called Miss cousin Maddie her “friend” at a recent family event.  “Maddie’s not your friend, Tysie, she’s your cousin” I spoke so soon.  Stumped, she seemed saddened simply by the thought of Maddie not being her friend.  I tried to recover by explaining that we’re not ONLY friends but family TOO which makes for an even more remarkable relationship.  Unfortunately, what I felt was a fantastic explanation fell on confused and cheerless ears.  Shortly after, and to my relief, she was chasing her “non-friend/cousin” Maddie through the grass not caring about the word that describes their special bond.

Now, a few days later, Tysie plays with a different set of second cousins on a hot summer day and explains to them in a confident tone that they are NOT friends.  A 7 and 10 year old are easily hurt by the mixed-up words of a super cute two year old and I may be the only one who understands her statements meaning.  My silly slip up has left this darling daughter of mine trying to figure out who her friends and family are.  Tonight I pray that as my daughters grow they nurture both types of relationships to the fullest because in the end it’s our relationships that mean the most.

"A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart, and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words." ~ unknown