a letter to my high school boyfriend...

the title of my post is a loose translation in a way, since i don't know if anyone would have ever given the title of boyfriend/girlfriend to the relationship i had in high school.  this guy was a sweet guy, but we had almost zero chemistry.  which was pretty amazing since, at the time, i was ready to have some sort of chemistry with anyone.  but guy one was a good start. 

we hung out in the same social group, and since the girls to guys ratio worked out in our favor, and we thought the other person was interesting, i guess we started "dating".  i don't really know how he felt about me physically.  the only physical contact he had with me was giving me light punches in the upper arm.  they didn't hurt (hey, i've always been a feminist, and no matter the level of desperation, i would never have agreed to abuse) but i found them really annoying.  i told him so, but i guess he thought i was playing coy.  or maybe that was his slow, methodical try at foreplay.  not sure.  we never kissed, so his plan must have been REALLY REALLY slow. 

but i was in high school during the era of real notes.  on paper.  written while you were supposed to be paying attention to whatever the teacher was blathering on about.  (so being on the plastic honor roll doesn't impress you so much?  ah, well, sometimes the lessons of life take precedence.) 

this guy wrote the BEST notes.  for a girl who reads constantly; who seeks out spoken word & poetry; whose all time favorite movie is "Amelie" - this was an ultimate catch of a guy.  he would share what was going on in his home life.  what he was struggling with emotionally.  he cracked jokes.  he gave the sweetest compliments. he wrote to me e-v-e-r-y single day.

the only drawback, he didn't do the same in person. 

so we didn't last long as a 'couple' and he was a person with much more conviction than i and he left school (instead of just floating through till the end like i did).  so i only saw him one time after we 'broke up' and he seemed afraid to talk to me, so i didn't say anything either. 

so, for the record, guy one - thanks for showing me what it's like to have a guy move slowly (even if it was way too slowly).  thanks for the extravagant gift of the perfume (i still feel guilty giving you the box of crap i gave you.  forgive my sixteen-year-old stupid self.)  thanks for helping me understand what i really needed and wanted in a guy.  (i'm happy to say that i found all that stuff.  he doesn't write me the kind of notes you did all the time, but he does often enough.  he's kind of busy being the guy blathering on in the front of the class :)  he does a much better job with the rest of the relationship stuff though, and doesn't move quite as slow as you did.) 

every once in awhile, when i see someone from high school, or i catch my 15-second tolerance level of Glee, i think of you.  i wish you well.  i hope you are happy, and i hope you are sharing your life with someone who loves you back.  i hope you know that you were a gift to me.  you were a gentleman, which is a pretty tough thing to be in high school.  and a pretty amazing thing to be with someone who isn't sure she wants you to be. 

sincerely,

your girl number ?

what is a gift?

Well, the elections are over, and here in Minnesota, I hold hope for the future.  Being a Democrat, I know many offices are now housing Republicans or other more conservative peoples.  Though I am disappointed by that, I do honor the fact that these people jumped into the game of running this place.  (I also understand that in our current political climate, it's damn hard to accomplish anything you want to, so that does give me hope and a good laugh.)

But now that the campaigning and voting is over for the year, my thoughts turn to the holidays.  My son's 6th birthday comes in just over a week, and then Thanksgiving, cousins' birthdays, friends' birthdays and then the celebration of Jesus' birth.  All include presents, food and getting together with people we don't see very often.  Lots of fun times ahead, but also a lot of pressure.

This year, I've tried to take a little of the craziness out of this season by shopping for gifts and planning homemade things in advance.  Overall, I think I've got enough stuff to give away to fill about 2/3 of my list.  That is a great feeling of calm.  But then, I also don't give my own kids many gifts.

I think back to what my parents gave my siblings and me for birthdays and holidays.  I know that these times were always festive and fun, but I don't remember ever getting exactly what I wanted (or thought I wanted).  No Cabbage Patch doll when parents bum rushed the doors at Target as soon as they opened, then fought over whatever dolls were on hand.  No Members Only jackets, or Michael Jackson purses.  No Sweet Sixteen party at the Holiday Inn ballroom.  Sad life, right?  But I did receive lots of lovely presents.  A sweet "Jennifer" doll.  A Walkman radio/tape player with batteries that I used immediately to listen to "Wild Boys" by Duran Duran (the thought of which was always more intriguing than the real life versions).  A really good 35mm camera I used for YEARS until after I was married. Along with loads of time being outdoors together, learning about other cultures, celebrating with my huge extended family and my parents' lifetime friends... all things that have brought me joy and shaped my view of the world.

As a teen, I would be so upset, disappointed, angry, and depressed that my parents had not chosen to go into serious debt to fulfill all my material desires.  I understood that things weren't all that important, but I did really want them to throw caution to the wind once or twice and just buy what I told them I wanted.  Now, I understand that things are only things.  And generally, these are things that I will spend my years cleaning up or keeping updated (like this ancient iMac I write this on).  So I am thankful that I learned, not only that my lack of material things pushed me to get a job (paper route & babysitting at 13- always had a job since) but also to cherish the challenge of making my own fun.

I was pushed to write this because next week, I'll be throwing a birthday party for my son.  He chose the theme of Halloween.  We picked out things for the party on Nov. 1st (clearance!) and will do fun things like having a dress-up dance party in the basement.  He'll receive enough presents to keep him busy until Christmas, and will then get more.  I can't choose what he'll get as gifts, and that's good too.  But right now, this soon-to-be-6 year old is playing with his little sister, working on a big cardboard box my sister saved from her friend's recycling bin.  They are playing with my husband's set of Fisher Price Little People (choking hazard be damned) and having a great time.  The toys carefully purchased at the best toy store in St. Paul sit idly on the shelf.

Taking the new toy catalogs from the Sunday paper will give my kids hours of enjoyment: looking at the pictures, talking about what they like and don't like and circling things they think they want.  I could feel bad that we don't have the money to buy them the latest and craziest toys, but I won't.  Any disappointment they might feel when they don't receive all those pieces of plastic circled in the paper will be short lived.  We will put on jackets (and soon, snow pants and scarves) and go play outside.  We will find new treasures at the library.  We will visit friends and renew their joys in the toys already on their shelves as we play with them together.  And we will inherit new boxes to play out newly invented stories, and make memories of our own.

So if you are coming to a party at our house in the next months, and you worry about what present to get my little ones, remember that the best present you can give is time and creativity.  That's the gift I am giving my family this year (okay, a few awesome toys & things as well).  And it's the only one that is too precious to return, and always runs out too soon.  Oh, and to include a bit of spunk to this post, if you bring a crappy, plastic, noisy "just-to-bring-them-something" gift to my house, you may just get it back.  A roll of tape, pack of paper and something to write/draw/paint/construct with are so much better.

Kudos to all the people out there who taught me (and continue to teach me) that time with loved ones is more important than more stuff filling up my house.  (On this weekend of All Saints, I honor the hard work, love and dedication put forth for my benefit by my grandparents, who have gone forth without us; Mathew and Rose, Arthur and Ilene.  And my husband's grandparents; Herman and Grace, and Frank.)  Each of my grandparents taught me to reuse what I had, think hard before I buy something new and pass on whatever I no longer use to someone else who needs it.  Good things to learn then and now.

just Ducky

We have a female mallard nesting in our front bushes this year. I'm not sure how long these ducks live, so I don't know if she is the same one who has nested in various places around our yard through the years, or if we've had the luck of different mothers each year. Either way, this one has chosen a bold and comfortable location for her nest.

Our house makes a sort of L shape, creating a little courtyard area tucked in the space at the front of the house. Our drier vent exhausts onto a small area of shrubs. If I was more fastidious a landscaper, this area would likely be free of old leaves and such, but I'm not, so there you go. Mama Duck seemed to appreciate my lack of effort, and made a fabulous little nest between two bushes where she'd also catch some warm air from the drier vent. Already, I know she's a brilliant duck mother!

I think mallards sit on their eggs for about three weeks before hatching, which means Mama Duck (or Delilah as I like to call her) will soon be sneaking off in the wee hours with her newly hatched brood. We've watched so many other nesting moms for weeks to wake up one morning and find everyone gone, this time it won't be a surprise. We'll be sad to see her gone one day, so to celebrate how thankful I am to have her here now, I'm taking pictures.

She looks like every other female mallard. There are loads of mallard couples around this neighborhood. Not sure why, but there are also a good dozen "spare" males hanging around too. One male & female mallard couple stops by fairly often, apparently to sit and chat with Delilah. I was thinking it was something like my grandparents did, when they went to visit with their neighbors and chat about life. My husband wondered if the male mallard just had a couple of "ladies" instead of being monogamous. I think we are both projecting our own little home life fantasies. (I think mine is a little less titillating, but we're still talking about ducks, so I won't digress too far.)

I'll be sad when Delilah has moved on, but I'll be able to plant flowers in the big planter behind her. I'll be able to move into Spring mode. But I am sad. I don't know what next year will bring in my life, so I am sad that this may be the last Spring nesting that I see of our little ducky friend. Happy. Sad. Anxious. All mixed together. happy spring.

Wondering what's on the Horizon?

My husband, the wonderful man who agreed to spend the rest of his life with crazy old me, is also a fabulous high school band director. He works around the clock to make the quality of his teaching better; in kind, making the experiences of his students richer, the environment of the school better and the connections to the community (and outside it) stronger. And I don't just say all that because I love him (true but not the point).

So right now, I live in Minnesota, the land of my birth. And we are in the crapper with school and state budgets. Those who've been on the line or out of work from other professions know just how terrible it feels to be "let go." Being a band director is always a tenuous career. Fine Arts are never at the top of a school's educational requirements, even though they surely make the educational experience richer and more fulfilling for everyone when they are included. I feel for the administrators who have the burden of choosing which educational areas in each school will lose out. That's exactly what's happening right now. So many livelihoods that bring joy and richness to the educational experience are being "cut" out of the budgets, in big part simply because our governor refuses any compromise on his motto of not raising taxes. (He's from my own home town and he's a dinkus.)

Where is all this going? Husband called me today, while I was driving my late self and the Toddler Queen to pick up Mr. Monkey Man from preschool. Husband shared the news, his position at the high school he works at this year (and for the past 7 3/4 years) will be 1/2 time next year (or a .50 position). He's not sure what else he'll be doing in the district. He may well be able to fill in the remaining .50 of his full-time position with other teaching assignments in other schools. His seniority level is such that he SHOULD be able to do that, if the staffing cuts do not go that deep.

We've talked about this over the last few months. What would we do if his position was cut fully? What would we do if it was "trimmed"? What job could I take that would help and not just go to pay for childcare? (which is one factor in my current SAHM position- I am an Early Childhood Teacher by profession so my paychecks have always been small)

I don't want to share any of this with Mr. Monkey Man. My father was on strike for 9months while I was a young child, and I loved that my parents kept their financial stresses off my little shoulders. So I will just work on keeping our expenses low, I guess. I already make my own household and laundry cleaners. I take the kids to free or super cheap activities. I do my best to stick to a grocery budget. I shop consignment and thrift stores for cute clothes for the kids and I. I cook dinner & plan for dinners at restaurants. I even save stamp money by sending bills out through my bank. If I could cut my own hair without looking like the crazy person I often feel like inside, I totally would, just to save the cash.

As much as we are stressed about all this, I do understand fully that we are so fortunate. We have a home that we can currently continue to pay for. I am able and willing to seek additional employment, and I was fortunate to be raised to know that jobs are just jobs - your pride should never limit what job you will take. My children are old enough for me to feel safe putting them in the care of others, if we need to. My husband will still be employed. We have loving family close by who can help. We are all healthy and have good health care coverage, if only for the next few months (worst case). The love we have for each other has only grown over the years, and it will help us get through anything.

And God has something amazing in store for us. As a nation, I've witnessed a new focus on family happiness, good health and helping others. I know that so many families are broken and scattered because of all this economy crap. I pray that those families find ways to be safe and to make it back to a better life. But I do find my heart thankful that the "need" for constant materialism has waned and we are waxing into a happier state of life. I just wonder what will be ahead for us, oh, and I hate waiting.