Today was the most gorgeous day of the year so far. Almost 80 and sunny, a rare treat in February. Funny that there is still snow on the ground from the last two weeks of our storms of the century. Only in Oklahoma. ;) After school today the middle asked if we could go outside and play some catch. Baseball practice starts tomorrow and he wanted to get a little time in with the glove. Neither of his brothers were interested, I think that might be a first. So he and I dug out two gloves and a baseball and headed to the front yard. I suggested we start off close together so he could warm his arm up a little before we started getting serious. In reality, I'm just thinking that being close might save me from a fat lip or a bloody nose. ;) As we start throwing the ball back and forth, he starts to talk. This one definitely has the gift of gab, but lately he has been very quiet. He is going thru a tough time at school, feeling unliked and unpopular. Sadly, the middle school years are starting before he is done with elementary school. With each toss of the ball another story comes out. Some are about when he has felt left out, others are about things in class. I just keep throwing the ball back hoping he'll keep talking, and thankful that he hasn't asked to start moving back for longer throws and less conversation. After a little while, he has gotten all the yuck out and the good stuff starts to flow. We talk about the future and what sounds fun to try in middle school, what sports he may want to play and what big brother has liked and not liked while in the next stage. He tells me funny things kids said or did, a compliment from a teacher, and his new job as helper to special kids at recess time. He has many stories about the kids with special needs and how neat they are, the problems they are facing and how he gets to interact with them. Today they got to take them outside to play on the kindergarten playground. He was amazed at the enjoyment they found in pretending to go for a ride in the truck or swinging on the swings. Then he says, "you know mom, the special kids are so great because they don't care what I'm wearing, or how tall I am, or if I'm popular or not. If I'm nice to them, they are nice to me, that's how it should be with everyone." So true buddy...so true.
By this time the other two have come out with their gloves and are ready for some catch too. Because of my "girlishness" I am now sent to the cheer leader section. ;) Turned out to be the best seat in the house. I got to witness one of the rarest things a mother can see, all three of my boys having a real conversation. They asked each other how school was today, how tennis practice was, when baseball would start up. Back and forth went the ball in a perfect parallel to the conversation. I sat there feeling true and absolute joy, that maybe they really do like each other and will have a friendship that will last their lifetimes. It was a rare glimpse into the relationship the three of them have, one of love and respect. I still can't believe how long that went on. Of course, as all good things do...it came to an abrupt end when one called another a pansy and the third threw in, "you throw like mom." Excuse Me? Rude...
Today's wine is The Wishing Tree Shiraz. I chose it because I wish for more chat and catch days with my boys. :) Also, because it has a screw top and those are just way easier for me to open! ;)
The W(h)ine Hour..
Every household has one…the whine hour. It’s those bewitching hours between approximately 5 and 8pm in the evening when the kids go crazy and moms across the world lose their minds completely. It doesn’t matter if you have babies, toddlers, kids, tweens, or teens; those hours of dinner/homework/bath time/ bedtime can just about do a momma in. What is a girl to do? It’s simple and brilliant actually, just slip in a little wine of your own! Now, I’m not suggesting anyone down a bottle of whiskey everyday between the hours of 5 and 8, in fact if you do that you will have a few whine hours of your own the next morning. Basically, a little wine during the whine hours will keep you out of the padded cell at the local cookoo house where people will walk by and peek in your little window and say things like “aww, poor mom has lost her marbles” and “hmmm, now that’s a crazy one right there, sits in there all day and hits herself over the head with a Barbie and a hotwheel”. Don’t smirk, it can happen.
So, enjoy the tales of my whine hour, and how I survive each and everyone of one of them with a sense of humor and a good bottle of wine! After all, the whine hour comes around every single day, a girl has to be prepared!