OK, so today was the real deal, at least for us. Like I said, Dante had school yesterday, but he’s in college and staying in a dorm. This is different. The house has been buzzing since about 7pm last night while we were watching a Brewer’s game and a quite impressive storm rolled in. Lightening was abundant, flashing through the sky relentlessly, barely giving it time to go black before lighting it up again. This brought us to a closer huddle where we continued to watch the game, watch the sky, text Dante and, for a minute, feel like we were all together still.

The boys went to bed around 9:30pm, all of them, which was uncommon. But, having the next day be an “event day” helped. Naturally, Lootie started digging for his backpack, and other things that should have been done long (longlong) ago. Franny did a find job pointing that out to him. I didn’t have to say anything. OK I said a little, but not much. “See, that’s why I started planning my clothes and packing supplies loooooooong ago.”

To bed they went, tucked in and cozy, surrounded by muffled thunder. Once, thunder shook the house with a booming cry, and Carlito called out to ask if I had heard it. Yeah, yeah, I did.

This morning I set my alarm a little earlier just to get up and be of support to my new sophomore and 8th graders. They’re pretty self-sufficient in the morning, which is really nice. They had packed a lunch last night, set out their clothes and were putting on the last-minute touches when I made my appearance. Lootie was still in bed, since he takes a later bus.

I didn’t know if the twins would really want a picture, but they happily obliged. Both were a bit overdressed with the sweaters today (high of 82), but the first day of school feels like it should be a cool autumn day, I guess.

(L-R: Sal, Franny)

 

These are Franny’s shoes. I like them a lot. Not just because they are a sharp shade of red. But because I found them, on sale, while picking up some shoes for Dante. What I love is that they were half the price I was hoping to spend on shoes, just happened to be the right size, and Franny loves them. It just doesn’t work out that way very often.

Lootie didn’t have the air of excitement that the twins had, but what can I expect? Last night he told me he felt like he was already in college. I don’t know what that means, really. Maybe it is because, while Dante is not here, he is the oldest boy, instead of the middle child stuffed between the one and only girl, and older brother, and a set of twins. Who knows. As long as it doesn’t mean he wants to drop out of high school, I’ll just go with the flow.

As he left I grabbed my camera. “First day of school picture?” I asked him. He made that groaning noise that commonly comes from a teenagers throat, but he turned long enough to roll his eyes and give me the opportunity to snap ONE picture.

I can’t help it, I always feel a bit sad. Lonely. I relish the house to myself (as I think we all do in our family since it is small and there’s so many people in it) for short periods of time, but I also take great comfort in a busy, stuffed full home, loud with my freaks, rooms alive with energy.

It’s strange having Dante off in another town, doing his thing, and not being a daily part of the circle. It feels not normal. I’m accustomed to Sophia being gone because she’s been gone for years. Even as a teenager when she was here, she wasn’t really here. She was always trying to get away. As a mom, I wonder when it starts to feel normal not putting a kid on a yellow bus to elementary school. Ever? Those days are so crisp in my head, while others are blurry.

I had grand plans for today, but am fairly certain 90 percent of that will not come to fruition. At best I’d like to freeze the black beans I have simmering in the pot since last night, take a shower, make a couple calls. Possibly go grab some notebooks, get dinner ready, freeze a couple meals. It is also double coupon day at Copps. I’d like to hit that.

Or shower, lounge in a chair, read a book.

It has been record-breaking HOT here in Wisconsin. I’m sure some of you are feeling the heat wave, too. We are blessed to have air-conditioning in the house, and I have it at work, too (Frank does not). But I have to admit, after a week of sucking in conditioned air, I’m ready to throw the windows open to drink in some freshness. I have been going out on the deck, suffering the heat to read a book, have a glass of wine with blueberries in it (1 cup frozen blueberries + 1 cup wine = heaven on a hot day). It’s almost like going into a sauna for a spell, then retreating back to the shock of a climate change.

I’m not a hot weather person. The fact that I’ve been outside at all beyond work and running errands is a testimony to how cooped up I’ve been feeling.

Day 5 (or so) today of the heat wave and I’m literally almost jumping out of my skin, craving movement, outdoors, change of scenery. I dropped the kids off at baseball practice this evening and it was a sweltering 99 degrees out. At 7pm. I was kind of envying them. They got to go play, get sweaty, dirty, have fun. What kept running in my head, though, was the timing of my shower and how I wasn’t going to take one tonight. I’m tired of falling asleep on a wet head.

I came home. Waited. Did laundry. Went back to pick them up. Saw dirt, sweat, enjoyment in exhaustion written all over them. Gunned it home. Cleaned up dog urine (someone hasn’t enjoyed fireworks over the last few days), grabbed a baggie and the leash and stomped out the door.

Just one round, half a walk, just around the block once. Maybe I won’t sweat so much.

Bowzer was thrilled, practically choking himself over his own incontrollable enthusiasm. We made it down the first block, which was relatively quiet. Not many are fool enough to swim through the thick, humid air. Half way down the first block there was a woman with two children, tending to the lawn. I complimented her on her work. I pressed on, remembering the state of my hair, tank top, tight pants, house shoes. I… hadn’t expected it to be light enough out for people to witness me in my state of horror. Darn.

Ahead I spotted a family walking, slowly. I was sure we wouldn’t meet. Relief. As I passed around the next block, just as I’m passing a familiar house, in pulls a car loaded with one of Frank’s acquaintances. One of those people who has a nice clean car, cute clean kids, and didn’t look like they’d been lifted up, tossed by a tornado, and ran through the dryer (like I did). I gave a cheery “hello” and said something about staying cool then picked up my pace. By the end of that block both Bowzer and I remembered it was hot and slowed down. He still wanted to walk, as did I. I was already sweaty and knew a shower awaited me, so I might as well do my full walk.

Down the next block I headed, straight towards the family of slow walkers. Great. My shadow showed my hair outline as freakishly non-human. Why didn’t I check myself in the mirror before I left? Why? I’d use the excuse of my dog to cross out into the street and avoid eye-contact. They grew closer, a small gang of children, one haphazardly pushing a (much larger) sibling in a… stroller? No, it was a wheelchair. The mother sauntered along as the little one in command of the chair skidded, bumped onto lawns, and nearly upended the kid in the chair (who was smiling and raising his arms in glee at the peril, naturally). Just as I was about to make my escape, two small girls and a boy ran up to Bowzer (aka Bowzer The Kid Magnet) and asked to pet him.

Is she nice? She’s cute! She’s a he? What’s his name? Bowzer? Cute! Oh he likes petting.

The mother smiled, tiredly, and urged them along. I was about to pick Bowzer up so the kid in the chair could see him, but they moved away too fast. The little girl hung back and held a flower to my dog.

For Bowzer. She paused to look up at me, extended a small stem and head of a flower, stolen from a yard along the way. No… for you! You have the flower.

Oh, but it would look so pretty in your hair.

No, in YOUR hair.

I took it. I smiled. Not just on my face, but inside, I just smiled. The crazy-haired, sweaty lady receives flower.

How are my kids growing up so fast?

I suppose this means I’m getting old(er). Obviously. I surrender and fight.

Next weekend is Dante’s graduation party. When we set the date it seemed so far off, and here is comes at the speed of light. Sophia is already 20 years old, living in an apartment a few miles away. Dante will be heading off to college in the fall (and this summer). Though I’m not yet 40, life marks us in stages rather than ages sometimes, and I am the mother of two young adult children (and three other teenagers).

Yesterday I took the youngest three to the park, and they played on the baseball diamond while I walked around the path. A path I’ve walked many times; alone, with Frank, with the kids, all of us as a family. One night in the thick of winter, it was icy, crisp and black, I walked the path under the stars. I was sad, angry and needed to just be out in an open space, to move and not think.

Yesterday I allowed time to slow on me, walking the dog, listening, thinking, smelling, feeling. Being present as much as possible. I people-watched as two mothers (possibly my age, but with infants), donned in track suits with their babies in strollers, warmed up on the basketball court in bounding leaps towards the strollers, the retreated in a light jog back across the court. Bounding leaps, light jogs. Back and forth. They looked incredibly ridiculous. I applauded their efforts of sacrificing appearances for fitness. My mind then wandered to ponder to what a pioneer from long ago would think of such a sight. After all, who needed to a run treadmills and make crazy in in public to be fit back then? Who would have thought in the future people would have to set aside time to work a body hard?

My mind carried on to the next scene, young soccer players darting after a ball. Quite a contrast to last weekend’s games where big boys with muscles and five o’clock shadows prowled the field. They were young once, too. I remember it. Vividly. Franny and Sal especially.

My what time does. It robs you and gifts you simultaneously. A generous thief.