Ah, to be four again...

I have never understood why anyone...ANYONE...would want to go back in time and relive their high school years. Geez, the most insecure, confusing, pimply time fraught with jealousy, gossip, and cliques. Ay, yi, yi! Now, to go back and be four again, that's where it's at. I have the great pleasure of working with and around four-year-olds five days a week, 9 months a year. I think it pretty much rocks to be four!

Magic is absolutely real, you're utterly and completely immortal (if you ever even give death a thought at all...probably not); you're at your peak cuteness, EVERYTHING you do is cute, even tantrums; you don't stink unless you poop or are working up to one; if you happen to pee your pants because whatever you're doing is simply too cool to walk away from, it's no biggie because someone always has extra clothes there for just in case. If you're on a soccer team everyone loves when you run after the ball as a mob of four-year-olds, or if you decide that the pretty flowers and butterflies are more interesting than the game your parents find that just as video-worthy as making a goal. Even schools understand that you should be learning through play. Man alive, four-year-olds have got it made in the shade.

Yeah, I think going back and being four again would be awesome. And, bonus for me, as much as I absolutely love and adore my baby brother these days (I was QUITE grouchy when he showed up on the scene when I was five-and-a-half and all the adult attention was suddenly divided), it would be wonderful to have a year-and-a-half of only childness again. (Love you, Vince!)

Moments of Peace

I got to ride my bike in the rain tonight.  It was perfection.  It was the beginning of one of those moments that always draw my attention.  You know, those moments where you feel totally at peace.  No concerns, yeah, just me, my awesome one-speed cruiser, and the rain.  I got home, my kid was WAY excited to see me, ran over and picked me up...because he can.  Carried me to the kitchen with an enthusiastic request for Frito Pie, and gently put me down in my "work spot".  How could I refuse?  I got at least 3 hugs during the process and then he complimented me the best way he can...with a huge fart that was, in his words, "AWESOME!"  Ya know, I can absolutely welcome "awesome" farts into my peaceful moments.  Smile.

Skippy

We were driving home tonight after a middle school football game and we passed the Alamo Drafthouse...TONS of cars lining the street.

"Must be an Alamo thing," I say.

"I remember!" pipes up Dave, (pause) "...the Alamo...."  Get it?

Collective groan.  We drive home the rest of the way in silence until we're at our driveway.

"You're lucky you get to appreciate my sense of humor," he says, beaming with pride.

"Hmmmmm," I think.  Well, I suppose so.  But mostly I'm lucky I get to married to a guy who has developed a relationship with the squirrel who lives in our Red Oak tree.  He's even named the cute little guy "Skippy".  Dave sits outside and hangs out with Skippy.  He makes sure Skippy has plenty of water.  Skippy and Dave get each other and have bonded in a way only a man and a squirrel can...I don't really understand.

One day I saw Skippy flopped over a branch, totally limp, I thought he was dead.  Oh, no!  I tip-toed closer and closer and suddenly he looked up at me and scurried off.  Scared the heck out of me.  That little dude sure knows how to relax.    

Here's to Skippy and all those other squirrels who totally get the fine art of chilling out.

This is the cool little squirrel who hangs out at the school where I work.  

Caught him lounging on the brick wall by the library a few days ago.

Awesome.

I'm going door to door!

With my kid out selling band fundraiser stuff tonight, I'm reminded of the pure awfulness of doing that myself. I dreaded fundraiser season, and, back then, parents would just let you go everywhere...alone...in the dark...talking to strangers...inside their homes...oh,my. The fundraiser I remember most was the year we sold LPs. The Moody Blues and Led Zeppelin were a big sellers that year. So was The Alan Parsons Project (unfortunately no relation, but I was sure asked that a lot around that time). I bought myself a Shawn Cassidy album, of course. It came with a FABULOUS poster in it that I tacked to my wall, and yes, ladies, he did watch my every move, eyes following me everywhere. Pure, sweet awesomeness. Jealous much?

My kid is the opposite of me when it comes to these things. He's out selling with gusto, confidence still brimming over from his VERY successful ACL lemonade stand. I keep closing my eyes and thinking of him as the big headed door-to-door salesman from Pee Wee Herman..."I'm going door to door...." You go, little dude!

Booted outa Bed

Woke up in the middle of the night all snuggled up to my kiddo who had apparently fallen asleep in our bed. I cozied in as I drifted in and out of sleep and finally woke with a panicky thought, "Ack! What if he pees in the bed?!?!" Hasn't happened in many years, but the memory is still somehow fresh in my olfactory and moisture-sensitive consciousness.

I yank the covers off of him, "Get up and go to the bathroom and go to your bed!!" I give him a shake and a shove.

"It's me, Kali." My husband's voice, more kind than it needed to be.

"Oh...oops." I pull the covers back in place, a little embarrassed, but not enough to prevent me from falling back to sleep immediately. Hope the same was true for him.

He's a Big'un!

My little guy officially outweighs me!  He has triumphantly hit the 100 pound mark at long last!

He told me, standing beside me, his chest puffed out, "I'm heavier than you, I'm stronger than you, and I'm almost taller than you."  We are exactly the same height...as of late last night, anyway.

Yeah, these are big times in his life.  He started playing football last month and his body has responded like it was expecting the challenge and his appetite is unreal.  I look at him with such awe, my brain trying to catch up with what I'm seeing before me.  I often get caught staring and am met with a familiar "my mom is crazy" look.  Deal with it babe, mom's just taking mental snapshots of your amazingness.

Twinkie Magic

I saw the most magical creatures today.  I was walking through the HEB in Northwest Hills (in that hood because I had the pleasure of visiting both of my parents this afternoon).  A most amazing being rounded the corner pushing a cart, her gray hair in adorable pigtails, beige baseball cap atop her head, a brightly colored, intensely patterned button-down long sleeve shirt paired with cropped pants with a pattern all their own...she was magnificient!  She must have been in her mid to late 70s and I was in love!  I approached her to express my adoration and to my great pleasure and astonishment a perfectly matched being came around the corner to join the first.  I think I stopped breathing.  TWINS!  Matching faces, matching pigtails, matching beige hats, and matching outfits...only the bright patterns differed.  As I walked beside them all I could get past my lips as my brain was stuck in "Awe" mode was, "I love your pigtails!!!!"

#1 Twin:  "Thank you!"  Huge grin spreading across her lovely face.

#2 Twin:  "We're just trying to hide."  Smirky grin on her face.

Me:  "Oh, no...you two are BEAUTIFUL!!!"

We parted ways, all three of us turned so we could see the other, smiling with pure appreciation and, dare I say, love.

So here's the deal.  I want to be them when I'm an old lady!  I want to still be wearing the most awesome pigtails ever.  I want to go out in public wearing REALLY LOUD clothing and look amazing in it.

I need a twin to join me in this venture...I'll be taking applications starting tomorrow.

Those twins would totally rock a shirt with this design on it...
I need to find them again!