Let it snow!

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . January 7, 2010 . 5:53PM

In Tennessee, we rarely experience snow. Our weather doesn’t fluctuate often and this week we experienced our most extreme temperatures as they dropped down to single digits. Luckily, this happens, at most, once or twice a year. We may get snow 2-3 times a year. As I grew up in Illinois, snow doesn’t bother me and I am fine with driving on ice, black ice, freezing rain and snow.

People from Tennessee do not share this sentiment with me.

In fact, I would say that the term that applies to the fine folks here is “scared to death of snow and ice.” Last night, before a single flake of snow had fallen or flurried, the mere thought of snow had schools cancelled. This is how it has been here for the duration of the time I’ve lived here.

Schools have been cancelled tomorrow due to the threat of refreezing. Logically, I understand this. There are plenty of winding roads and hills and valleys here. Buses cannot safely travel them and if you can’t get kids to school safely, school should be cancelled.

What I don’t understand is the mad rush to the grocery stores to buy necessities? At most, the snow will last one day. I don’t know of anyone that doesn’t have a days worth of food in their home. Those that don’t have food don’t have the funds to mad rush Kroger.

When I lived in rural Arkansas, storms knocked the power out for days and it couldn’t be restored. They had a genuine reason for fear. In the Metro Nashville and surrounding areas, we generally don’t experience this phenomenon.

I’m not knocking my TN folks. I love living here and the people are second to none. I’ve just lived in different conditions. We’d go to school in 6 inches of snow. Teenagers, myself included, drove in it. Nothing was canceled and even when there was little heat in the schools, we went. No, I didn’t walk in 3 feet of it, smart alecks. But we did have the old school radiators and it was cold!

I just think it’s kind of…wimpy.

There. I said it. I think it’s wimpy.

I want enough snow to make forts like we used to when I was a kid and lived across from a church. They would plow the church and the entire small neighborhood would choose a side of the plowed area, dig into it and we’d have serious snowball fights. We’d sled down the 8-10 foot forts for hours. When we were done, we’d go into the house, have some hot chocolate, warm up, and be back out within the hour.

As I got older, and had older friends, we took it to the next level. There were bigger sleds and bigger hills at the park. One friend had a house in a rural setting and four, yes four, of us went down a hill at a time. I remember being between Rich and Chad and the sled tilting as we crashed into trees. I had a huge scrape on my cheek, but I couldn’t stop laughing.

Or Dave and I power sledding down what we thought was snow, but was really ice on the largest hill in the park. That was a huge mistake.

Or James and I attempting to snowboard down the hill behind his house and me biting it and vowing that I would never faceplant again because I was “never doing this crap snowboarding” again.

Or Jenny and Rachael throwing snowballs at me while I tried to get in the fort more quickly.

Or Olivia sprinkling Reindeer food on the snow so Santa would come.

Yes, please let it snow. I want my son to have memories like mine, too. Even if it’s just 2 inches of snow to make angels in or some flurries.

As the child grows…

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . November 11, 2009 . 10:49AM

When AJ was little, he had mad empathy. When other babies would cry, he would wail like crazy. This has never left him and I’m inclined to believe it’s part of his temperament. He’s always been the caretaker in this house, and I think it’s because he sees that when one of us is sick, we all take care of that person. It is how we handle sickness or sadness or stress. Since he was very tiny, he would play the nursemaid when Leon or I was sick. I still remember him fetching me lukewarm water in the bathroom cup when I was nursing a migraine because he’d seen Leon bring me water for my aspirin. I believe he was as young as 3 when he started.

When Leon or I am sick, he hates to go to school and when he is here, he will bring ice packs, aspirin, wet washcloths and as many hugs, kisses and cuddles as we will take. There are many nights that he went to bed on a Friday night at 7:30 because I was sick with a migraine and laying there. He would lay next to me, patting my hand, and would eventually drift off.

There is a certain sense of guilt that comes with having chronic pain–that burden that you place on the people around you. The feelings that you may have of feeling like less of a person some days often express themselves at the weakest moments and not always in the best of ways. They often present in anger, misery or irritability. AJ is immune to that when someone is sick.

This isn’t to say that he doesn’t have his egocentric “me me me” side, because he certainly does, but it has never been as strong as I expected. And I’m watching him shed it rapidly and sooner than the developmental scales predict and I wonder about the kind of man he’ll become, and how quickly it will happen. Will I ever be ready for it? People keep telling me to have more children. My guess is that they recognize that there is so much love within me for this little guy that it breaks me.

I worry less about it when I see that I haven’t done an awful job and that my health issues haven’t affected him so dramatically. As he was going to bed tonight, he kissed my cheek, hugged me tightly and said, “I hope you feel better tomorrow, mama.” Then, he gave me the dimpled grin that melts my heart and he and his hoppy little weiner dog went to sleep.

Somehow, I think we’re all going to be alright…

Those Red Hair days

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . October 31, 2009 . 3:11AM

I’d forgotten what I look like with red hair and my old glasses. What I love about this picture is the look of peace on Leon’s face. We were at my mom’s house celebrating my little sister’s birthday a couple of years ago. I don’t know what he was thinking about, but there is something going on behind those baby blues.

A fairytale: Green eyes and brown eyes Part II

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . October 26, 2009 . 10:40AM

Green eyes was a computer programmer in his spare time. For someone so young, this was a pretty big accomplishment. The brown-eyed girl didn’t understand the fascination, but she was into green eyes and watched as he explained the coding sequence for a program he’d completed on his computer. She leaned forward and tried to understand what he was saying. As he pointed to the screen, he turned to her, smiled, leaned in towards her and….

Perverts. I’m not telling you about that. It was a special moment and you can go make your own.

The brown-eyed girl smiled and took his hand. From the other room, she heard his friend yell, “Did you kiss her yet? Have you asked her out? Is it official? C’mon man, I don’t have all night. Just do it!” She laughed and blushed, as did he.

Days turned to weeks and over the winter holiday they spent much time together. They had the same group of friends, so they were able to spend time apart without it overwhelming them or feeling threatened, as so many do at that age. However, they found it hard to find time alone and decided to get creative.

Just outside of town was a farm area that sat atop a hill and next to a wooded area. The snow was crisp and she would slowly pull her crimson colored car to the edge of the woods. He would sit on the hood of her car and she would lean against him as he held her. They would make up stories of wolves and ax-men and all of the things that might be in the woods. Really, it was an excuse to look at the stars and the trees and the beautiful, snow covered hilly area. Never in her life had the brown-eyed girl been happier.

However, all good things must come to an end. At the end of the holiday vacation, Green eyes called her. It was clear from the tone of his voice that he’d been crying. He told her that his father had been relocated and that they were moving in less than a month.

She was crushed. She was losing him just as she’d found him. She was also losing her best friend.

Their parents were very supportive; Perhaps moreso than they should be have been in a situation with teenagers so young. You don’t need to know the details, but they tried to make it work. They tried desperately, but with over 600 miles separating them, and before free nights and weekends, it was not possible to maintain the relationship. Reluctantly, the brown-eyed girl said good-bye.

Both moved on and found happiness elsewhere, but years later, with the accessibility of the internet, found one another again. The brown-eyed girl was newly married and the green-eyed boy was, again, miles and miles away. They agreed to keep in touch.

And they do.

Some connections remain, regardless of time and circumstance.

DMB, The Melting Pot and Us

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . August 27, 2009 . 3:42PM

Early in our marriage, things were tough. We don’t talk about that time often because, frankly, I don’t think we realized, then, that we were struggling. We had the optimism of newlyweds and a new infant and we were just doing what we could to make ends meet. We’d moved to Nashville for Leon’s job, in a company that announced they were struggling right after we’d moved. This was only the beginning of companies that relocated workers only to lay them off when they’d uprooted their lives during that time period.

For us, though, it was a time of building our life together. Nashville was such a welcome change from Dallas that there was hope and promise in everything. We had an adorable little house in SouthEast Nashville that we were renting from some amazing folks. It was an older home, about 1,000 feet and was sinking into the earth around it. We couldn’t be happier. Even though we own a much larger home in a much better neighborhood now, it’s still been our favorite home.

When Leon’s position was obliterated from the company, and 125 people lost their jobs, we were at a loss as to what we’d do from there. I was staying at home with A.J. and was struggling with my health. Shortly after giving birth to him, I’d had my gallbladder out and I wasn’t healing well from either. At that point, Leon said he’d do whatever he needed to do to make sure we’d be ok. And he did.

He began working at The Melting Pot (one of my favorite places) shortly thereafter. His experience there was good and the owner treated him kindly and fairly. One of the great perks was getting to eat there for cheap while he worked there. As a struggling couple, getting to dine there for what we’d spend at Chilis was a blessing. I’d bring A.J. in to see Leon in his pumpkin seat and we’d be treated by the staff like royalty. It made not seeing Leon a little bit easier.

He’d work 3-4 nights a week from around 3pm until 1 or 2am. It didn’t leave much time for being together. I’ve always been a night owl, however, and, when he’d get home, we’d try to spend at least an hour together. We’d shut off all the lights in the living room, light one or two Yankee Candles and put Dave Matthews Band in the stereo.

Last night, Leon bought the DVD of Dave Matthews and Tim Reynolds at Radio City Music Hall. Listening to it brought back all of the memories of that time. Us, late at night, in our living room, just listening to music and winding down. Circa 2001. That gratitude for time together, time to relax, a sleeping A.J. and the ability to live and thrive despite the world around us.

It is good.

We went back to The Melting Pot for my birthday last year. We’ve lost some weight since then, but I treasure this picture. My how life has changed. And how it stays the same. It is good.