my soft spot

just a mom who plays hockey and knits

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

What we did today

Something I read quickly just now put a thought into my head of using Blogger as a diary of sorts for our family. So, here goes.

Today was Day 2 of Winter Wonderland daycamp for Graham. He made yet more art projects and really seemed to relish them--his snowman photo holder had come with two googly eyes but he lost one somehow, and decided to simply make it a cyclops, one googly eye centered in the forehead. When I went to get him at noon, he pulled me over to the table of drying crafts to show me. He also pointed out that he didn't want to write on it, so he cleverly wrote his name on a piece of paper, and shoved the paper into the photo-holding hands of the snowclops.

I put him in the car and drove to Park St., where we were meeting my high school BFF. We were a bit early (what a nice change!), and I glanced around the restaurant and thought we'd arrived first. Then there she was, waving like crazy. She is still slim and sincere and funny and likeable and we jabbered any time our mouths weren't full of food. Her husband stood back and let us catch up gracefully, helping with their now-5-year-old (I thought she'd be 3!) needed attention. We only had an hour, but we really caught up (oops, I needed to ask about her mom and sister!) and I just relished the time together. We'll meet up again when she's here in February.

I took Graham back to camp and returned to work, where I'd been struggling with a logical conundrum. I bounced it off a few coworkers, thought I'd discovered the sticking point, and called my "I'm on vacation, but don't wait for answers, just call me on my cell" boss. She called back within the hour and we hashed out a quite liveable solution. I was dismayed to review the day and find I'd only worked on that issue the entire day. The deadline's Thursday! I have lots to do.

I left work, picked up Graham, and we headed home to have dinner and feed and water the dogs. Dinner was just Campbell's Chicken Noodle (my stepmom can no longer tolerate MSG in any form, so we totally scored the Chicken Noodle soup!) and toast. Then we packed up my spinning stuff and books to return and headed to the library for a Spinning Night. I adore our spinning nights, and one regular brought a friend from the Peninsula who is actually attempting the Master Spinner program, and brought her binder of samples to show (bits of different types of wool, then tiny skeins of it spun up and tiny swatches of it knitted). Very cool.

My friend Maia came, too (but she knitted rather than spun, as transporting her wheel was too much). It was so good to see her! I'd forgotten that she'd offered to teach me how to spin Long Draw (I'd probably blocked it from memory, as the last time I was taught, I just could. not. do. it). Maia's a wonderful teacher and it really clicked this time. And she gave me homework! She brought 8 oz of BFL for me to spin up by next Spinning Night (next Tuesday!), and if I get it done, she'll dye it for me (yummy deep Madder or ooh, maybe Concord Grape?). This is going to take some work!

Stefani also came and brought her son for Graham to play with. Apparently, they were both very much looking forward to seeing each other again. I hope to borrow T for playdates some time soon. Stefani invited us to an open house on Thursday evening, which works out great, since we have nothing planned, as it happens.

We dashed from the library to Border's Books at South Shore, as Graham has gift cards burning a hole in his pocket. There, we ran into Jessie and her son, who I'd invited over for games Thursday. Turns out they're going out of town, which frees us up for the open house (and early bedtime! No way I'm making it to midnight this year). It was great to see them, though. I enjoy both of them very much.

Tomorrow, Graham goes to Chabot Space & Science Center on a field trip with his Winter Wonderland friends. He's very much looking forward to it, but is not willing to bring his brand-new copy of "The Last Olympian," for fear of losing it. I think that's wise, but can't believe he's willing to be away from it!

He asked me to wake him up when I get up so he gets more reading time in the morning. He is such a cutie.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Saluting the Sun

A link from a friend's blog sent me to a site that describes yoga poses, often with accompanying photographs. Perusing the website brought me to a step-by-step description and guide to doing the Sun Salutation. Which brought back a memory...

In 1990, I went to Vancouver, B.C. for the Gay Games. I was playing soccer at the time and my team was, as I like to call it, the dysfunctional Lesbian soccer team. Someone scored a place with plenty of bedroom space and a kitchen, right on English Bay. I ended up there with C, whom I didn't know very well. She taught me how to do the Sun Salutation, and we did it together. I loved it. I'd never done any yoga before and its flow appealed to me. It was a very special time, a good bonding moment between us.

Sweet C would eventually date, move in with, and then marry my ex, N. That trip was the beginning of a warm and sweet friendship between us that continues to this day.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Aaaand... she's back

I have a renewed desire to blog.

FB and tweeting are lovely, but not what I need, sometimes. So, here's an update...

Let's see. G took an airplane by himself up to Portland. He didn't take it well when I first introduced the idea--very upset. Finally, tearfully tells me I'll have to write down the steps to checking in, finding the baggage area, collecting bags.... I use two plates (airports), three spoons (me, him, my mom), and a big serving spoon (airplane) to show him how I'll take him right to the gate, he'll be on the plane alone, but Memah (my mom) will meet him right at the gate in Portland. He is relieved, and starts to get excited about the flight.

Fast-forward to the morning of. I wake at 5:30AM and answer the phone shortly thereafter. It's my sister; my mom has been trying to reach me since 4:15AM. (Sending up prayers of thanks for the bedside phone not working.)

There's been a big windstorm--gusts over 50MPH, one website says--and Mom's power is out. She points out that one time, the power was out for 4 days. Maybe G shouldn't come.

Huh?

I say, "Well, what do you do when the power's out? You heat your home with the wood stove, cook on it, and read by candlelight or lantern light. Sounds like an adventure to me!" I also point out that even though the power was out once in the past 10 yrs for 4 days, it likely won't be out for 4 days this time.

By now, we need to load up the car and leave for the airport. Southwest's website said to be there 2 hours before flight time, which puts us there at 7AM, ugh. I compromise by planning to leave for the airport at 7 (it's about a 15 min drive). I would have been there by 7:15AM if I hadn't missed the turn for short-term parking, necessitating another trip round.

I check him in, with the paper that lists my info, Mom's info, and the secondary pickup person's info (my sister's ex-SIL and our family friend, E). G gets a big blue plastic neck-hanger thingy for his info and boarding pass, which he likes. We get in line for security--it's short, thank God--and as we get up to the x-ray machine and send things through, a security guy asks G if the blue backpack is his. Yep. Well, it has a sealed bottle of water in it, leftover from Snack Time at school this past week. He thought it'd be handy for the trip, and I hadn't thought to coach him on acceptable things to bring. The guy has to keep it. G is bereft. The guy offers for us to exit security, drink it, and pass back on through. I smile and decline.

My cell rings. It's my mom. She can't actually get off the Peninsula (it's a 2.5 hr drive, so she's already trying to get on the road)--trees are down, blocking the road. She's panicking, wondering again if we should cancel. A guy at the blockage thought the road would be blocked for 2 hours. I point out that it's just a guy, not a road-service crew. I encourage her to call the Washington version of CalTrans, to see if there's an official estimate.

I call Southwest, to see if I can get G on a later flight. The only later flight is at 12:45, there is one seat, and it'll cost me more than twice what I paid for his flight to get G on it. Ridiculous.

I call Erin, hating that I'm calling anyone at 7:30AM on a Sunday morning. Thankfully, she is up and ready for action. We talk about the specifics (flight time) and possibilities (what if Mom can't pick him up until tomorrow? She has a super-early Monday meeting... maybe her mom, G's third grandmother, can take him). She says she'll pop into the shower and get ready to head out to the airport. I call back to let her know the flight is due in 15 mins later than I'd thought, which gives her a bit more wiggle room.

We've exited security (and retrieved the water bottle from Mr. Nice Security Guy, to drink while outside) during all this, so now have to get back in line. Predictably, the line is WAY longer than it had been. We get through without incident, but by the time we get to the gate, they're actually preboarding his flight, 30 minutes early, wow. I talk to the gate agent about G being an Unaccompanied Minor, and point out that I need to get some breakfast for him. She suggests that she board him and then bring his Burger King breakfast to him. I ask if we couldn't go to get the breakfast together and THEN board him. She relents. We RUN to BK and the guy gets the order out in lightspeed time (seriously, I have no idea how they did it that fast). We run back. I separate our breakfasts so he has his own bag. He bursts into tears. The reality has hit him. I'm doing my best to have an encouraging, loving face and hide my tears. We hug and hug and hug once more. The gate agent takes him down herself. My poor lamb is openly wailing now.

When she returns, she lets me know that by the time she got him seated, he was talking a bit and the tears just dribbling down his face. I move to a window where I can see the plane, and wave just in case he can see me. I wait and wait and wait for it to board, close up, and pull back from the gate. I cry and watch and cry and watch. Finally, it pulls back, I wave once more, and then it's out of sight.

I sit in the airport for a bit, gathering myself. I call my sister, my support. She listens and is kind.

I head home and wait for the flight to arrive. I consider going to church but can't bring myself to, knowing that with the offering of support and love, that I'd be a blubbering mass.

Finally, my cell rings. It isn't E--it's G himself! "Hi, Mom." I find out later that E arrived just as the plane pulls up, and they get to the baggage carousel just as G spots his bags going around. I'm glad E didn't have to wait forever. It is such a huge favor she's doing me.

I'm very glad of my sister's suggestion--I tell G that "Auntie E" has Playstation, Wii, and an air hockey table. He is instantly reassured: "I'm so glad you told me that, Mom." He chats with them and is at ease until 1PM, when my mom arrives to collect him, not even stopping for a cup of coffee with E, as I'd predicted. ("She didn't even want to sit down for a second!" Yep, that's my mom.)

They get the electricity back on that evening, and have a good 4 days together. But on Wednesday, as we're supposed to be leaving my sister's house in her van with 4 humans and 3 dogs, he calls, asking "Are you close?", having not realized that he's calling Ashland, OR, a 7.5-hour drive away. And unfortunately, due to awful traffic north of Eugene, the trip takes about 10.5 hours.

It is great to arrive, though.