(To the tune of Love Story)
Where do I begin to tell the story of how great a life can be? (Note: One can also substitute words like “full” and “mad” in place of great.)
Fall has come and is halfway gone already. It has been a wonderful season full of vibrant colors and beautiful sunrises. I get to see the fog rising from the Chattahoochee every morning and usually get stuck in traffic just on the other side of the bridge over the river. It gives me a chance to watch as the early sun filter through varying shades of green, red, and gold. There are fewer leaves on the branches, but that almost makes the effect even better. It adds an element of severity to contrast with the soft, dewy landscape. In such moments, I wouldn’t trade places with anyone or be anywhere else in the world.
The whole month has been a landslide of events that probably deserve a bit of recounting. We kicked off the beginning with our annual trip to the Pumpkin Farm. Two pumpkin rolls, a bag of boiled peanuts, and three sleepy kids later, we trekked to Buckhead to check out a wedding dress for my old Saudi Arabian pen pal. It was a beautiful dress, but I’m still trying to wrap my mind around a $1,200 price tag in a USED dress store. Somehow, I always love a trip to Atlanta. I stare at the tall buildings and wonder what it would be like to lose myself in an apartment at the top of the world. It must be glorious to look out over all of the lights at night…to have a favorite café just around the corner. By contrast, I fiercely love the quiet solitude of my road and the still darkness of the field behind my house. The city-lover is an individual who longs to tap into her creativity…the type of person who lives for culture and good coffee. The other side of me is an individual who worships rolling hills, sprawling trees, and the clean sense of well-being that comes with being in the open air. I suppose that if you wanted to toss the wild beauty of the ocean into the mix, I could be split into three separate parts, but we’ll leave it at two for now.
The second weekend in October was a trip down to Guyton, and I visited my sister-in-law for a cut and color. During this trip, David and Emily immersed themselves in the world of Ghostbusters and haven’t looked back. My Dad re-married in a quiet ceremony while we were out of town…just him, Natalie, and an old friend to conduct the service. This was also the weekend that our dog Cody made a crucial mistake. I had already started questioning the value of Cody as a family dog. He was a gorgeous chocolate lab, and I loved just looking at him…but he was a monster of a dog. When Emily walked up to him, Cody’s head was level with hers, and the slightest bump from him was enough to send her sprawling. I had already noticed that Emily was becoming skittish around him and was worried that my animal-loving daughter was developing a very real fear. The thing that bothered me most was that Cody was extremely loyal and attentive, but his loyalty and attentiveness was locked in on me. I had been adopted, and it was as if no one else in the world existed. I have never had a dog that emotionally belonged to me the way Cody seemed to, and part of me loved him for it. But in reality, I wanted a family dog…a dog that was conscious of my children and wouldn’t bowl them over…a dog that I could trust to be alone in the yard with my kids. As it was, he seemed to look through them. Somewhere near the end of September, Cody started digging out of the fenced in front yard. Initially, it wasn’t a big deal. He came back willingly and never did it more than once a day…usually while we were home. But gradually, he increased his daily escapades and began widening his circle, roaming a little bit farther from home each time. While we were in Guyton, Cody got out repeatedly and took it upon himself to rip into David and Emily’s swim stuff in the carport. My thoughtful neighbors chased him in the cold rain and tried to clean up the mess before we got home. From that point on, my demeanor towards Cody changed. I was constantly irritated with him for being an annoyance and refusing to stay put. We decided to put him on a run inside the fence and hoped to teach him a lesson.
On the third Saturday in October, David went to see the Pierces and Emily adventured to Stone Mountain with my Mom. I walked out into the cold, gloomy morning and called Cody. He didn’t appear from behind the tree or bound out of the doghouse. I squinted as if narrowing my eyes would somehow make him appear out of thin air. I took my car keys and jangled them against the side of the chain link fence. That’s when I saw him…standing perfectly still down by the creek, watching my every move and most definitely outside his boundary. He had chewed through the run cable during the night and dug a new hole. It was the final straw. Johnathan and I dropped Ava off with my cousin (Terri) then came back and loaded Cody into the rear of the Vue. I had hoped to give him to the Humane Society or a rescue group, but after weeks of no response and mounting anger, I simply drove him straight to the Animal Shelter. I signed the papers with resolve and flinched slightly when the girl up front made me feel like some run-of-the-mill dog abandoner. I felt about three inches high, but was certain athat I was doing the right thing. I was scared that my dog was going to get himself killed and absolutely heart sick that he hadn’t worked out the way that I had hoped. When we got back to the car, I cried as if I had just signed away my best friend and tried not to think of those trusting brown eyes. The same weekend, we took my cousin Rhonda’s dog as a replacement. Sunny is a Border collie mix, not quite a year old, and is already better with the kids than Cody ever hoped to be. She doesn’t have Cody’s chiseled good looks, but instead is absolutely adorable. She slows down when she gets near the kids and invites them to play with her as much as she invites me. She’s the kind of dog that will belong to everyone, and I felt an enormous weight lift the first time she dropped to the ground at Emily’s feet. In the fiasco with Cody, I missed the bridal shower of an old friend and have been kicking myself ever since. I know that she will make an astonishing bride, and I wish her all the best in the world…I just wish that I could have seen her before she went back to South Carolina.
On the third Sunday, I hosted a Tupperware Party and learned that they are great fun…especially when you wind up getting more than $100 worth of Tupperware for less than $40.
The fourth weekend in October was a yard sale at my parent’s house. I spent an entire evening sifting through old clothes, papers, and toys that belonged to me when I was little. I put about half the items up for sale, but couldn’t bear to part with the other half. Some of the toys were taken home and traded out with David and Emily’s discarded items, but a great deal of my junk is still sitting in boxes in the kitchen. For a few days, my living room looked like we were moving in all over again. Johnathan had gone down to Milledgeville to visit his friend Kelly that day and wasn’t back until late. Hannah came over to keep me company while I waited and we chatted in the kitchen just like old times. Even after she left, I pushed aside my exhaustion and listened eagerly as Johnathan gave an account of his day. I was glad that he was able to get out and enjoy himself for a day and mentally resolved to send him off more often.
The end of the month went out like a lion with Emily catching a virus, me developing mastitis, and Johnathan experiencing the side effects of a flu vaccine all within the same week. David and Ava plugged on through everything and somehow emerged unscathed. We’re all in better spirits and had a fabulous Halloween. David was a Ghostbuster, and I literally spent hours assembling his costume. It was worth the effort, however, to see him having so much fun on Halloween night. Emily was a cat, and Ava was a cuddly little puppy. All in all, I think it was the best family Halloween we’ve had so far. The day before Halloween, I won our company’s Chili Cook-off and took home the prize of $16.00. I loved winning, but it also made me rather self-conscious since I had created both the ballots and the scoring sheet for the event. I kept all of the papers in case anyone wanted to check up behind me.
This week has been a blur of work. Endless stacks have been piling up in my work box, and I’m just beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. It’s nice to get caught up, but my joy will be short lived. I’m leaving work early for an out-of-town wedding and will inevitably fall behind again. Johnathan is a groomsman in his friend Kelly’s wedding, and the entire McGowan family will be staying in a lake house on Sinclair. Milledgeville will always feel like a second home to me, and I’m looking forward to spending a weekend catching up with family and friends. Johnathan and I will be going to the rehearsal dinner Friday night, and if I can put aside my anxiety about the baby, I know we’ll have a wonderful time. I always love the opportunity to be a couple…especially in the city where we first met.
I’m jumping out of sequence to relate David’s first parent/teacher conference. My son bounces back and forth between good and not-so-good days. He started out the school year with more “green” (good) days than anything else, but the first two weeks of October saw more “yellow” (semi-good) and “orange” (not good) days than anything else. Then we were absolutely horrified when David came home with a “red” day, which is the worst day a kid can have. According to his behavior folder, he sassed the student teacher and was outright defiant. David lost all privileges for the evening, and I started to worry that my kid was developing ODD. As a result, I wasn’t sure what to expect when we walked in for the conference. We learned that the kids spend a great deal of time in small groups. David is at the head of his group academically, but the rest of them are right on his heels. This alone was a relief… Children aren’t required to take the CRCT in kindergarten, but they still undergo some kind of state assessment. Kindergarteners should have a score of 29 by the end of the school year, and David is sitting at 62 already. 62 is typical of a fourth-grader, and his teacher wonders if he’ll have a perfect score by the end of the year (something no kindergartener has ever done). He is at a third-grade reading level, so now his teacher is working on comprehension. He will begin the Accelerated Reader program, and we will have to work with him at home on reading comprehension. His math is strong, and he is working with a few other students on learning the value of money and how to interchange coins. David’s teacher said that while he has had several rough days, kindergarten as a whole is an adjustment. She has also noticed that David seems to have some “sensory issues” that trigger some of his little quirks. Johnathan and I have discussed problems, and I have entertained Asperger’s on and off for years, so it was a relief to have someone mention it a way that merely acknowledged and didn’t label. His teacher noticed that his disruptive “airplane noises” get louder as the volume in the room or hallway increases. The most revealing story was one where the class was coming back from lunch down a half-darkened hallway. David ALWAYS has trouble being quiet in line while going from place to place, but on this particular day, he was quiet as a mouse. When they got back to the classroom, he looked up at his teacher and said, “I think I like the hallway better this way…” The bright lights are overstimulation, and his noises are a way of coping. In listening to her account, I saw everything in a different light. It was the breakthrough that I’ve needed for the past three years, and I kicked myself for not applying techniques from therapy to my own son. I was relieved that David’s first year has gotten off to a good start with a seemingly phenomenal teacher. She worked with special ed and as a result, knows how to work with unique children. I was amazed and grateful for the amount of time and effort she has put into my child. Once again, there seems to be little doubt that someone bigger than any of us has been looking out for David since the day he was born. His teacher has said that she will try very hard to make sure that he gets the right kind of teacher for first grade. I am extremely proud of him. He is unusually bright and gifted in so many ways and seems to be showing a preference for art class. I think that there are good things ahead for Mr. David…
I don’t want to leave my other children out, so I will briefly mention the life and times of Emily and Ava. Ms. Em knows and recognizes all of her letters and colors, and can say her numbers through twelve. She has always amazed me with her understanding, and whenever she turns her big brown eyes on me, I get the sense that she comprehends far more than her two-years would let on. She has a way of walking, talking, and acting that is mature for her age and only becomes more pronounced with each passing week. She’s a pretty little ray of sunshine that dances, smiles, and sings her way through life. She went to Guyton for her first alone trip, and I’m sure Mommy and Daddy have missed her far more than she missed us. She’s showing some of the same aptitude for learning that her brother has always shown, and I was astonished to hear her reciting the Lord’s Prayer in its entirety one evening last week. She regularly sings her favorite songs and recently managed perfect pitch on the first seven notes of her ABCs. She manages to be indescribably cute with everything she does and has figured out how to work that attribute to her advantage.
Ava is growing like a weed. She remains in the 90th percentile for height and weight and is beginning to want baby cereal at dinnertime. She’s the most contented baby I’ve ever been around and never cries unless she’s hungry, wet, sleepy or bored. All of those complaints are easily remedied. When she grows tired of staring at the same old thing, I usually reposition her, look her in the eye, and start talking. Her tears stop immediately and she breaks into an infectious, dimpled grin as if to say, “Oh, there you are. I just wanted someone to talk to!” We still think she will be an early talker and have building hopes that her eyes will stay blue like her Daddy’s. She’s the sweetest little cuddle bug, and I can’t believe how fortunate I am to have such a happy baby.
David is my source of amusement, Emily is my sunshine, and Ava is my snuggle puppy. Johnathan and I spend a lot more time together than we did for the first couple of years, and I always look forward to TV time and conversations. It’s much easier for us to sit down together and laugh at episodes of “Modern Family” or “The Office” than it ever was when Emily was small. With any luck, all three kids are down by 8:30, and we have the time that we’ve been missing for so long.
In further unrelated news, I have been startled out of my wits by two mice in the house. One of them visited me in the bathroom at 2 am, and when he landed in a trap in the pantry, I was sure our problems were over. Not so. Another one zipped across the hall in front of me as I made me way through the kitchen last night. I resisted the urge to let the cat into the house for the night, knowing that I would probably just trade a mouse problem for a flea problem. Note: The cat has been doing a splendid job catching mice OUTSIDE the house and has presented me with three dead mice, one vole, and one dead bird. Go, kitty, go!
The more I think, the more my head hurts, which brings me to my last story: I was half asleep when I stumbled into the kitchen Wednesday night, longing for a cup of Lemon Lift. So asleep, in fact, that I didn’t see the open cabinet door… SMACK! I walked into it and was later surprised to find that I didn’t have a straight line going down the center of my forehead.
hopeful
