by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . July 22, 2010 . 10:38PM
Growing up in the mid-80′s, the slip-n-slide was the hot new thing. It really wasn’t much of anything, to be quite honest. It was a small piece of plastic that you put in between your sprinklers. You would run, slide about 4 feet and roll off into the grass while accruing scrapes, cuts, grass burn and the silliest faces and giggles you’d ever seen from your friends. Then you’d jump up and do it again because it. was. awesome.
I wanted one of those little yellow pieces of plastic more than anything.
Luckily, I lived just down the road from my cousins and their parents were much crazier than mine. Or, it’s quite possible they knew that the secret to peace of mind over that particular summer lay in an enlarged water bill and a little piece of yellow plastic. Either way, my cousins got the slip-n-slide and I got to walk the quarter of a mile to their place every day to bust my butt on the plastic and the hard dirt underneath.
Run Run Run Run Sliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide YES I’M FLYING NO NO NO I’m rollling! OUCH!
And back in line I’d go. And don’t think it was a short line. I wasn’t the only kid who knew about my cousin’s slip-n-slide. We lived in the country and the neighbor kids heard. So did their parents, and their parents weren’t going to pony up for a slip-n-slide or a water bill either. We’d dutifully get in line about ten kids back until we bled enough that it just stung too much to go again that day.
Nowadays, oh how old I feel saying nowadays, nowadays, the slip-n-slide has become so fancy! You can slide into a pool! The piece of plastic is HUGE and there are safeguards for those wimpy kids who care about bleeding. On the 4th of July, I found out exactly how intricate the whole slip-n-slide industry had become.
In Nashville on the 4th, our downtown area is amazing. Truly an amazing sight to behold is the area by the river that just lights up with booths of any kind of food you’d like, booths where you can buy the coolest hats on earth and a whole street dedicated to the littlest cowboys and cowgirls in the city.
As jets flew over the city celebrating our Independence, we walked around with bottled water and looked to see what was happening in our fair land. My little sister marveled at the cute boys. My mom wanted to go see what was going on down by the river. And me? I kept getting pulled towards these huge inflatable bouncy things, as all moms do.
After getting a stamp on his hand that made all the rides FREE, AJ was off. One of the first few rides to catch his eye was a large slip-n-slide. When I say slip-n-slide, I don’t mean one close to the ground. This inflatable wonder was about 4 feet off the ground and looked like a long island. Kids would run and jump UP onto it where sprinklers would shoot down onto them for about 20 feet. The line was short, but the joy was long.
I stood by the end and watched as child after child, including my own, jumped onto it and laughed themselves silly. It’s not been a great summer by any standards, but I couldn’t stop laughing along with them. The thing about joy is that it is utterly contagious. Some would jump up there, realize “OH NO THERE 
IS WATER UP HERE” and try to get down until mom or dad would take their hand and then lead them through the slide. After which, they would cry to go back on. There was a devilish little thing, who couldn’t have been more than three, who would go through the whole thing, slam his body down to the concrete after he got done, like the hulk, and give devil hands. I’m not kidding. Just like the orange ones to the right. He was totally “rock and roll” about the slide. And AJ? AJ would run, jump, slide, fall on his bottom, laugh and do it over and over again. He probably did it 30 times. I laughed just as hard as he did every time.
Yes, children are amazing and sometimes the smallest things in life are a recipe for joy. Just add water.
by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . June 11, 2010 . 7:21PM
From the time he was born, I have never taken my son for granted. His specialness was not lost on me when I looked into those royal blue eyes that would eventually turn a chestnut brown. He could make the people around him perform like circus animals. The night he was born I lay awake watching him sleep and then, when the nurses took him to the nursery so I could rest, I cried for hours because I feared what the world would throw at this child and how he would respond. What would he face? How would I keep him safe? How would others treat him and how could I protect him?
AJ and I have a special bond. Even at 9, he longs to spend time with me every day. I’ve been sick recently and can’t go up and down the steps. He’s been sleeping in my bed to make sure I don’t need anything in the middle of the night. As I read my book, due to my insomnia, I notice that he will roll towards me and reach his little hand out so he can hold my hand while he sleeps. When he wakes up and notices that I’m there, he smiles a sleepy smile and says in a surprised voice, “I love you, Mama” and rolls back into that deep eyed slumber that involves him giggling in his sleep and talking to whatever person is entertaining him in dream world.
Dominick Calhoun
Because my mama bear instinct for this little one is so strong, it gives me an ache I can’t describe when I read about mothers that don’t have that instinct or that can’t follow through in protecting their children. Recently, my friend Natalie wrote about
Dominick Calhoun and his tragic death after being beaten to death over the course of a weekend in April. Dominick was beaten and tortured for days for wetting his pants by his mother’s boyfriend, Brandon Hayes. His mother had left the house during the beatings and did
nothing. Natalie has the ability to feel some compassion for the mother and I love her for the amazing amount of love she has in her heart. I’m of the opposite side of this response in that a mother had an entire weekend to save her child and she did nothing. Regardless of fear, at some point, instinct to save your child has to take over, doesn’t it?
Dominick’s family, minus his mother, are working hard to enact Dominick’s Law which would increase the penalties for child abusers. The family has a facebook page that addresses the process of passing the bill and what the bill entails.
So, now we mourn the passing of Dominick and, as a mother, I fear more for my child. The idea that someone I could trust could hurt my child sends fear through me. The one thing I know is that I will die before I knowingly let it happen. Tonight, when he stretches out his hand, I’ll hold it just a little bit tighter.
by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . May 22, 2010 . 8:55PM
Often, as adults, it is easy for us to forget how generous in spirit children are when left to their own devises and without the interference of us “well meaning adults.” Our influence upon them can suck the beauty and kindness straight out of those amazing little souls faster than anything I’ve ever seen in my life. Our disapproval, anger, anxiety and upset can shake them to their core and cause them to look upon the world with distrust and unease. It then becomes a place of distraction. A place where everyone is on their own and should take care of themselves instead of looking out for the interest of others. A place where their true goodness is hidden and they lose the innocence and humanity that they seem to have from such a very young age, instinctually.
However, it flickers. Oh, how it flickers. Like a flame just looking for a little encouragement to grow, it flickers and sparks and waits for the opportunity to shine. Unlike many adults, children don’t necessarily need to shine in front of others or with the purpose of recognition, or even allow their flame to grow at all. Sometimes, they just flame away without even thinking about it and move on. Such simple love and kindness.
I’ve seen this happen repeatedly in my life. Often during my time with my son and his friends and during my time in the school system. A few weeks ago, I saw it during a warm evening at the ballpark.
I was standing in line for one of the forty or so gatorades I buy every year at the concession stand when I saw him: the blonde little boy in front of me who was patiently waiting his turn. He couldn’t have been more than 8, at most, and was clutching three dollars. It was a school night and his eyes looked tired and sad. It was approaching 9 and he must have been at one of the early games and stayed for a sibling game.
I saw his eyes scan the menu. Hamburgers, Chicken (our stand serves Chik-fil-a!), hot dogs, french fries, sodas, energy drinks and many various candies. His little blonde head nodded slightly downward as he looked at the canisters in the front of the stand. Air heads, $0.25. Ring pops, $0.75. Tips for good service, please. Condiments. Napkins. Forks.
He looked carefully back to the menu and then to the canisters again and softly said, “French Fries, please.” The boy at the counter said, “Sure, kid. Anything else?” The little boy looked down at the canisters again, looking hard at the ring pops, and I saw him swallow. “No, no thank you.” He handed the concession stand worker his two dollars and waited for his french fries. They came promptly. He smiled, said thank you and deposited his $1 in the tip canister.
Generosity of spirit can be found in the most unexpected places. I am a lucky woman to find it in so many.
by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . May 13, 2010 . 6:36PM
Everyone in my family enjoys going to the movies. There is nothing like spending $30 just to get in the door, another $40 on tasteless treats and sugary sodas and then the opportunity to sit next to people who are either going to yell at the screen, text non-stop (you know who you are twitterphiles), whisper to one another about how you just can’t liiiiiiive without out each other (gag) or put their hands all over each other.
Let me clarify this. I hate going to the movies unless the movie has been out for at least 8 weeks, everyone else has seen it and there is the remote chance that I could be sitting in the theater room by myself. Then I LOVE going to the movies. And I will enjoy the biggest Coca Cola there is while I’m there. Mmmm.
And the movie will be awesome until my 9-year old inevitably says, “Mom, I’ve gotta pee.”
Now, I’ve been lucky in that, well, he’s a boy. I can’t go into the boy’s bathroom and his daddy generally is a good sport about saying “C’mon I’ll take you” or threatening him to within an inch of his life that he’d “better hold that pee until this movie is over because I offered to take you to pee and you swore on your life you didn’t have to pee.” Every now and then, though, I have to bite the bullet because I’m with him at the theater without a man or because I get THE LOOK.
As I was reading an older Woman’s Day, I think it was from March, something caught my eye. A website called Runpee.com. I love potty humor, so anything that talks about peeing automatically gets my full and complete attention. Runpee.com is a website that will tell you the best times in movies to take “a break” and how long you can “break.”
This is incredibly helpful not just for those little ones, but also for people like me who enjoy the super large keg sized Coca Cola in the dark theater.
So, who is going to a really old movie with me this weekend? If you text during it, I reserve the right to throw your phone across the theater.
by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . March 23, 2010 . 10:15AM
Houston, we have a problem.
AJ does chores. I know that the idea of this may strike some parents as odd. There really are parents out there that don’t force their kids to do chores of any kind and for those parents I have a great big smack in the pants. For as much as I adore my child, he does plenty in this house. He does have a cell phone, gets to do lots of leisure activities and has all kinds of neat toys. But he does chores.
One of those chores is that he has to empty the trash cans in the house. Now, most people would just upend the smaller trashcan into the larger trash bag, get it done and move on, correct? Not AJ. AJ likes knowing exactly what I’m throwing away.
I wish I were kidding.
He’s just that nosy.
So, he takes the trash out of the trashcan a couple pieces at a time and sticks it into the larger trashbag, looking at each piece to determine whether he might want to keep that piece of trash or not. What this amounts to is him pulling out old paperclips, broken rubberbands, broken cups and pens that have run out of ink. Each of these ends up back on my end table where I cleaned them off in the first place.
When I question him regarding why he does this, he looks at me and replies, “What? We might need that later.”
I’m living with a future television star for the show HOARDERS.
Home
Growing up in the mid-80′s, the slip-n-slide was the hot new thing. It really wasn’t much of anything, to be quite honest. It was a small piece of plastic that you put in between your sprinklers. You would run, slide about 4 feet and roll off into the grass while accruing scrapes, cuts, grass burn and the silliest faces and giggles you’d ever seen from your friends. Then you’d jump up and do it again because it. was. awesome. 
IS WATER UP HERE” and try to get down until mom or dad would take their hand and then lead them through the slide. After which, they would cry to go back on. There was a devilish little thing, who couldn’t have been more than three, who would go through the whole thing, slam his body down to the concrete after he got done, like the hulk, and give devil hands. I’m not kidding. Just like the orange ones to the right. He was totally “rock and roll” about the slide. And AJ? AJ would run, jump, slide, fall on his bottom, laugh and do it over and over again. He probably did it 30 times. I laughed just as hard as he did every 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.
