by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . June 30, 2010 . 7:51PM
During the summer months, there are some days where I have so few clients that AJ doesn’t have to attend his summer program and he is allowed to come hang out with me at the office. My friend Meggan is doing her practicum with us and he thinks Meggan hung the moon. He hangs out with Meggan or plays his Nintendo DS and I see clients while he avoids going to the summer program he claims is boring him and rotting his brains out. Hardly. The summer program does cool things like going to Jump Zone and swimming and playing games. But AJ is a momma’s boy and that little guy would rather be in close proximity to me than most anything in the whole world. When asked what he’d liked to do for vacation if he had one week, with the thought of Disney World being an option and anything else in the whole United States being the other option, he replied “Go to NeeNee’s because we PARTY.” He has no idea what he’s passing up and we love family time.
I’m veering off topic by a lot. I’m just going to say that my son is not worldly in the slightest and move on.
We were in the car on the way to my office when AJ asks, out of nowhere as per the norm, “Why do we celebrate 4th of July?” I’m not good with history, but I did my very best to explain our declaration of independence from England and why we chose to do so. He took this to mean that “we’re at war with England!” I explained that this was a long time ago and we are fine with England now. In fact, we’re pretty good friends. We like them. We do tea without tossing it over boats.
No. This is unacceptable. They were bad. They must pay. Grudges must be held.
I could feel the stewing going on in the back seat…and I chose to ignore it.
Until trivia night last night. There was a question regarding the back of the new quarters and the design on the back of one of them. The question had nothing to do with England, nor did it have to do with 4th of July or our war with England. But AJ chose to answer the question as “Florida. Because it has a direct line from England.”
I may not be strong in history. He’s not strong in geography. We’re both strong in grudge holding, but I think he’s got me beat. He mutters “England” in the same voice I utter “Derek Jeter.”
That’s my kid.
England, you better watch your back.
by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . June 28, 2010 . 5:20PM
I’m an adventurer. Just this week I’ve been on a safari and went to the beach.
I’ve never been out of the continental U.S. and I’ve been spending the better part of the month in my bedroom. Maybe my way of travel isn’t yours, but for me, it’s necessary and it helps. For the majority of my life, I’ve been a voracious reader and have had a pretty decent imagination. There have never been the time or the funds for me to actually go anywhere worth really digging into, but I can read about places and, in my mind, I have been there.
Lately, that has saved my bacon in so many ways. Southwest.com has a schtick that says “wanna get away?” Yes, I do! Oh, I do! A break, yes please! Right now, though, I’m moving quickly nowhere. But, in this room, I’m going many places.
As adults, we often turn off our imaginations and suppress our pretend-o-meters (yes, I know it’s not a real word, but please stay with me). And, yet, in the back of our minds, there is still the capacity for childlike joy in sheet forts and paper hats and closed eye pretend travel. So, I needed a break.
When I woke up, I was going on Safari. It is supernaturally hot in Nashville this time of year. My bedroom is on the second floor of the house and my ceiling fan runs 24/7 to help keep my room ventilated. My white noise machine was on and the gentle breeze blowing across my face felt good.
Suddenly, I was on Safari and staying in my Safari housing. It was so hot outside that the animals weren’t coming out. The palm fan was blowing a gentle breeze across my face as my hair gently caressed my ears and a small fly landed on my shoulder. I softly brushed it away and hugged my pillow tighter as I thought about what was going on in my home across the ocean…
the ocean…
I turned the lamp next to me on full blast next to my face and turned the white noise machine on to “ocean waves” and suddenly I was at the beach. If you close your eyes you can almost hear sea gulls. The power of imagination is strong when you focus on it. The lamp next to me mimicked the sun so strongly I wanted to pull the covers over my head because it was hurting my eyes.
It relaxed me.
The imagination we gain as children never goes away. We put it on a shelf and pull it out as grandparents so we can play in those sheet forts or play water guns properly or tell stories that make little ones truly believe that there is magic in the air.
Sometimes, as adults, we need to believe in magic, too.
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by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . June 28, 2010 . 12:04AM
Some mornings, this is how I feel about myself when I look in the mirror, too.
Fighting with Yourself
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by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . June 27, 2010 . 11:41PM
Oh dear. Oh my. Oh good golly.
One of my favorite things about summertime is the storms. The outrageous, amazing, beautiful, loud, house-shaking, booming, scary movie, better wrap yourself in a blanket and have some hot chocolate and snuggle with your honey thunderstorms that hit the South are this wondrous creation that you have to experience to believe. I’ve mentioned my love of the storms while I was growing up in Illinois. There are few things I like better than a good thunderstorm. I like to sit in my car and watch it through the sunroof. Or through the windows of my house. Or if I’m at a house with a screened in porch, that is the bees knees, right there. If a slight breeze is to be had to give me goose pimples, oh goodness, that is about the best to be had.
It’s about my idealized version of heaven.
I do love a good storm.
Not everyone shares my feelings of a storm. No, not everyone.
Not even everyone in my house. The humans are fine with it. Generally, they think of it as a burden to their baseball schedules. Well, with the exception of this human who clearly finds it a delightful slice of life. The turtle and the cat seem to be a-ok oblivious to the storm and think of it as another sound effect to a life of monotony. And 3 out of 4 dogs like to snuggle under the blanket and beg for the hot chocolate.
But that 1 dog…she is an unhappy little noodlehead when it comes to thunderstorms. She’s a much better predictor than the weatherman, bless his heart. I can tell a storm is coming about 45 minutes early. Her ears will perk and the whining starts. She can be in her kennel or in the house.
When she’s out of her kennel, immediately she jumps on the couch and her head goes into my lap. She begs for ear rubbing and looks at me like we are going to die. Right now. She’s serious. Rub her ears because we are going to bite it.
T-minus 20 minutes to storm. Her butt starts to wiggle and she tries to put all 35 pounds of her directly onto my lap.
T-minus 10 minutes to storm. I hear a wailing like that of a banshee who has been caught by a death eater who has just been told this is his last snack and he must om nom nom before lethal injection.
T-minus 3 minutes and counting. She paces the floor like an expectant father while continuing to wail and look at me like I’m a jerk who won’t stop the weather. This includes me looking at her like her voicebox is optional in dogs.
Storm-time. She is back in my lap, shaking like a leaf while I croon to her and whisper all kinds of human soothing noises that dogs don’t understand because, according to my son, “Dogs don’t speak English.” After about 5 minutes, Molly is fine again because, “Oh, hey, it’s just a storm.”
The three tiny dogs are looking at her like, “The big dumb dog just got it, let’s go fight over our chewy!” and the world is again at peace in the house.
by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . June 21, 2010 . 8:59PM
Dear umpires,
I know that you put up with a lot of junk from angry parents and unhappy children. You work in hot weather and have to wear nasty padding and risk overheating a lot of the time. You chance being hit by balls or bats or even flying little bodies on a regular basis and I have no doubt that every now and then a call you made might keep you up at night.
There are times I watch some of you showboating out there and I wonder if you realize that when you make bad calls over and over and over again so you can show off that you are breaking the hearts of little ones. Kids that may not play the sport of baseball again because of a loss they took seriously and one that you will forget the minute you go home. Last week, I watched one of you set the other team up for a win they didn’t deserve and our team said nothing. They played hard and when they lost, they lost with heart. But you did the same thing two innings in a row and when the inning was over I watched you smirk as you’d commented within my hearing how that kid could really hit and it was great to watch and see if he could bring the runs in.
Do not EVER bring your bias in a front of parent if you want to keep your job. It was all I could not to run out there and hit you with the umbrella I bring to keep myself from passing out due to heat. I’m aware you are, at most, 23 years old, but I will beat you to within an inch of your life if you ever and I mean EVER do that to some 9-10 year olds EVER again. Take your job more seriously and realize that you aren’t God, you are merely a person who is expected to be impartial so as to allow a game to be as fair as possible. You weren’t fair. Not even close.
When we faced that team again in the finals, the game was much closer. We had three umpires and I watched another umpire showboat his way around. He was closer to my age, however, and made fewer mistakes. What I do know is that he didn’t set up that same kid to hit grand slams and our kids didn’t go home crushed. They went home feeling like they’d done well that game and deserved to win second place in the tournament.
AJ said it best when he said, “Mama, I’m not even sad that we got second place. Why is that?” A job well done and game well played while doing your best is nothing to be ashamed of and they weren’t crushed by a score that was stacked against them from the start. Rest assured, if I see you next year, and you pull the same crap, you won’t get away with it again.
I’ve got your number.
Sincerely,
Me
P.S. Before you try to give me the letter from the Umpire, I’ve snoped it for you. Enjoy.
Home
During the summer months, there are some days where I have so few clients that AJ doesn’t have to attend his summer program and he is allowed to come hang out with me at the office. My friend Meggan is doing her practicum with us and he thinks Meggan hung the moon. He hangs out with Meggan or plays his Nintendo DS and I see clients while he avoids going to the summer program he claims is boring him and rotting his brains out. Hardly. The summer program does cool things like going to Jump Zone and swimming and playing games. But AJ is a momma’s boy and that little guy would rather be in close proximity to me than most anything in the whole world. When asked what he’d liked to do for vacation if he had one week, with the thought of Disney World being an option and anything else in the whole United States being the other option, he replied “Go to NeeNee’s because we PARTY.” He has no idea what he’s passing up and we love family time. 
Life is like a game. We all have challenges, thoughts, opinions and beliefs. Often, it feels like something out there, life, karma, catty people, or blue shells (for the Kart lovers), seeks to bring us down. Luckily, we always get up. This is where I wear my heart on my sleeve and my foot in my mouth.
