Just Call Me “Captain No Fun”

Who me? In the span of two weeks we went to the State Fair, Six Flags amusement park, the art museum (the kid portion of it), a children’s fest (with freebies, snow cones and giveaways galore), an outdoor concert, the zoo (twice), and a friend’s cottage for two days (five hours of which was spent tubing off the back of a pontoon boat.)

Yes, I must have earned my moniker.

“Mom, can we buy something in the gift shop?” “No”.

“Can we get something from the cafe?” “No, we packed a lunch.”

“Do you have money to buy this (some toy set at eye level to entice my son)?” “No, you already have several of those at home.”

“I want (insert 27 items here) from the mall. Can we go?” “Not today.”

Yep, Captain No Fun is on the scene and ready to strike.

We made a list before the summer started of the things we wanted to do. It was my attempt to ensure that Techno and Twinkle got ample time to do big kid things while I knew our anchor, Little Bee, would possibly keep us from enjoying a few of the things we might have tried to accomplish if she were a little older.

Periodically I checked the list to ensure we made progress and filled our summer with what they wanted to do. It gave me great pleasure to see that we checked off a lot of activities and added a few surprises too.

Why did some days feel like the point was missed? The two days it took to pack and plan and prepare were worth it but was the bickering and fighting that ensued the reward?

Did they remember the good time or did they focus on the fact that they couldn’t walk away with the commemorative cup of lemonade retailing for $10?

Looking back on the summer I love the memories we made and relish the special time we enjoyed together. It does not elude me that there will never be another summer that I have a 1, 9 and 11-year old. Ever.

As the start of school looms next week, I have been asked many times if I am ready for them to go back. This is the first summer in a few that I dread it just a little. They have been such a HUGE help with Bee this summer. We were settled in to a new normal. And now it will be changing yet again. She is walking now…FAST. And she is very curious. Captain No Fun is just getting warmed up. Look out, Little Bee.

Lost: Camera, Watch and Husband

Everyone has their thing. Their quirk, oddity, crazy-inducer…whatever you want to call it. Just ONE of mine is losing things. I literally go ape. Just ask my husband the time my wallet sprouted legs last October.

So what is a girl to do when it happens three times in one day? Grow up, I say.

Last Sunday started with the realization that my camera was lost the night before. Traveling downtown in the city in a group with my brother, sister-in-law, niece, nephew, cousin and my brood of three got a little distracting at times. I remember taking candid shots at a new park my kids and I had never tried. The lighting was perfect, Techno, Twinkle and Little Bee were loving it and we were having so much fun…What did I do with it?

Out of nowhere some grown-up voice says “J., you JUST put in a new memory card two days ago. Big deal. So you lost two days’ worth of shots. And you hate your camera anyway. Whoo hoo! Time to get a new one finally!” Who IS this person?

As this is unfolding and plans are already being made to race to Best Buy sometime this week, I lose my husband. Ice was in a softball tournament this weekend. His self-described “favorite weekend of the year”. We had a family birthday party to attend. It started at 1:30. It’s nearing that time with no word on the outcome of his last game. The game was at 11 in the morning. What is taking so long? No call. It’s his brother’s party. Are we driving together? Or separate? Is he coming home first? Should I just leave with the kids? What if something happened to him? What if he got hit in the head with a softball?

I got in touch with my sister-in-law and no one had heard from him at the party. Okay kids, time to get in the car and go find Daddy. We can handle this.

As we get in the car, it dawns on me one last place I have not scoured for the lost camera. I open the center console. Bingo! Camera found.

By this time we are more than slightly late for the party. Ice’s phone was dialed no less than five times. No answer. A little anxiety is creeping in. We are halfway to the ball diamond and the phone rings. Ice is probably wondering why all the stalking. He informs me he had a game at one o’clock too. I was not privy to this information. Relief…and mild frustration. But overwhelmingly the relief wins out and I am just too over it to be the nagging wife. Camera found. Husband found. Let the party begin.

After the party was over and we had all returned home I started organizing some household items. The mood struck me and I thought why not? I was making some headway and then noticed a favorite watch of mine was missing. Really? Now this is just too much for my lost-o-meter to register in one day. Did it travel to California in June to be left behind at one of the many hotels we stayed at? Is there a chance it was stolen? It only sits in this one spot when not worn. Calm down, girl. It is after all replaceable if need be.

Resolve sets in. This will just not do. My archive of purses in the back of the closet must be delved into. My vacation purse is the beacon I am pinning my hopes to. Unzipping it slowly I peer inside. Hallelujah! There lies my sweet reward. What was I thinking? When did I just leave this semi-precious bauble to be thrown in the back of the closet? Oh but the dangers of multi-tasking and motherhood. Who knows what was occurring at the moment I made THAT choice?

Taking a step back and surveying the day brought a tiny sense of satisfaction. Though my blood-pressure spiked more than a few times on Sunday, I was pleased with the calmer sense that seemed to overcome me than in similar situations in the past. With age comes wisdom it’s been said. I certainly don’t claim to have much of that but something is going on that this trifecta of loss I experienced didn’t send me on a one-way shuttle to crazy town this time. Now that’s growing.

Go Ahead, Make my Day

A simple trip to Wal-Mart in a Northern Michigan town last weekend for provisions for Little Bee turned in to a philosophical debate in my head. When is the exact moment where we stop wanting to be older and start wanting to look younger? I spent much of my childhood wanting to move to the next phase…ride a bike, drive a car, have a boyfriend, have a beer, have a job, own a house. You get it.

One year while attending my Dad’s work Christmas party he shared with me a few co-workers thought I was eighteen years old. I was 12. Exciting news at the time. Now I’m pretty certain I would not have the same reaction if someone assumed I was six years older than I was and had the desire to let it slip within earshot. Dangerous waters, people.

Where I come from it used to be you needed to look 21 years of age or you would get carded. Then if you looked under 30 years you would be asked for identification. Now just to be sure if you appear south of 40 years of age, you will be asked for ID.

Then here’s to getting carded! The young man working the register said to me ” Can I see your ID, you don’t look 40 just yet.” Gulp. “Well I am!” I said and chuckled. Thank goodness I fooled him! At this point I expect to be practically on the same par with a creature from the Mesozoic era to anyone who is in high school. I know when I was 16 or 17 that was just well…Old.

However, in looking back I have always felt in my prime. The number of candles on the cake has long since been rounded to decades or just a random amount but in all honesty it still feels like the best is not yet behind me. Not by a long shot. And when it’s broken down like that, it feels good to be right where I am, fooling the check-out boy at Wal-Mart.

Yet again, the joke could totally be on me. Maybe he says that to all the ladies.