Three Words Rain...

Today we pack our towels, sunblock, rain coats, umbrellas, and head to our local YMCA pool. The weather man predicts sun with scattered thunder storms. I pack for sun, rain, thunder, hale, lightening, and any other crazy weather that this might come our way. After this horrible gray rainy June I am willing to get struck by lightening in trade for a few minutes in a sunny pool.

Since there has been no sun, I haven't put on a bathing suit yet this summer, so their is no sun tan. I put on my bathing suit and glance up at the mirror. Who is that fat white woman? I vow to restart my diet immediately. I throw on board shorts to cover up my thighs put on a shirt and we are on our way.

We meet our friends at the pool. My friend tells me that an adult has to go in with all kids under 8-years-old. My kids are 3 and 6. My run over to the pool and start down the stairs. I follow and stick my foot on the first step. As my foot becomes numb I observe that this must be a solar heated pool. Have I mentioned that their only has been few hours of sun since May? My children who are obviously part walrus don't seem to notice the arctic water temperature. Dylan paddles around while Alice clings to me. Which is fine because I am freezing and the body heat does help. She has her hands tightly around my neck and she is kicking her legs. I am not sure if she is trying to swim or trying to climb me like a tree to escape the cold water? All I know for sure is that her little toes are digging into my thighs and pushing down my board shorts. I keep trying to pull the shorts up but when I try to move my hands from around her she starts screaming and her does dig in and push on the shorts more.

After a few minutes my shorts are around my knees and I am trying to walk to the side of the pool to put Alice out so I pull them up. I stumble over with Alice still clinging anxiously kicking her legs hitting me in my lady parts. My shorts are falling and falling. I do a little jig and shimmy the shorts off and step out of them. I fling them up to the surface with my foot and let go of Alice with one hand to grab them out of the water and throw the shorts up on to the concrete deck.

I am enjoying the cool water and the scattered sun. I am thrilled to be experiencing a summer activity. I will sacrifice my comfort, endure bruising, and yes, I will sacrifice my shorts. Take that rain! You will not stop me from having a summer!

Prodigal Sun

Today I woke up and saw the sun. There the sun was shining in through my bedroom window with no explanations or apologies. The sun just disappears from our lives for 19 days and then one day just comes back. Are we supposed to just forgive and forget? Forget all of the wasted wet summer days and simply forgive the sun the simple act of returning? Hell yes!

I jump out of bed and dance around the room. I throw shorts on under my night gown and run down stairs and straight out the front door. I stand on the front steps close my eyes breath in the sunny air. Then I start to spin around like Julie Andrews on top of the mountain in the Sound Of Music sans the guitar. I'm spinning on my front steps, half dressed, not even wearing a bra and I don't care. I am so thrilled that the sun came back home.

After I was done dancing I looked at the over grown jungle that was once my garden. How do weeds grow so big in the rain? I went back inside to grab a quick cup of coffee and get dressed. About twenty minutes later the sun is still shining and I am on my way back outside to murder weeds. I can make a nice dent before the kids and I go out for the day.

I have on my usual gardening attire my Jean-shorts and a tee shirt. I am a nature girl. I like to get dirty in the garden and feel the fresh soil under my feet and in my hands. I walk into the garden and pull two long weedy stalks that are easily as tall as my three-year-old daughter Alice. Then I grab a hold of a third and feel someone sticking a red hot syringe through the bottom of my foot. I scream and jump into the air. The scream sounds like Tom, from Tom and Jerry. You know, when Jerry inevitably sets his tail on fire. I do feel a bit cartoonish jumping up and down and screaming so theatrically. Usually I am calm, but this pain was biblical! I look down and see a big fat wasp. Only one? Why does my foot feel on fire? I hobble back into the house and immediately put ice on my foot. My foot is like those time enhanced commercials that show bread rolls raising and baking to perfection in 20 seconds. I watch as my foot magically blow up to about triple it's normal size in about 30 seconds. My foot is a puffy pink party balloon. A throbbing puffy pink party balloon. My day with the Sun is ruined?

No way! I slap on my Crocs sandals as none of my other shoes will fit the swelled foot. Then I make lunches and throw the kids in the car and go off to the zoo. I'm not wasting a moment of with my sweet sunshine.

Weather Wars

Today is the 20th rainy gray day here in New England. We heard on the news last night that this June is one of the rainiest that our region has seen since the 1800's. When I heard that I simply lost my luster. I was about ready to grow gills and make a home for us under water. Then I remembered what Mark Twain said. "Everybody complains about the weather but no one does anything about it" well I am! I am sick and tired of waiting to start the summer. I decided that no matter what me and the kids are starting our summer vacation. I decided last night that today we are going to the beach! No matter what! We are done complaining and we are taking matters into our own hands!

Last night I packed a beach bag and more importantly I shaved my legs and other parts. I am serious. I used the good razor and I left not one unwanted hair in place. I was smooth and ready for battle. This morning another gray cloudy day. Not a spot of blue in the sky. I made lunches and dressed the kids in shorts and bathing suits. I snacks and drinks and we were off to the beach.

We follow our friend and her kids to a cute new beach with a huge playground. We let the kids run and play for a few hours. We survive a few spatterings of rain, but nothing too bad. The rain must know that we are serious today. We check out the beach and find two beautiful killer swans and their five fluffy signets and a ton of goose poop. We decide that this beach is too toxic, and we are better to use the play ground only. Then something miraculous happens. The clouds break apart and we see a triangle of blue. We feel the sun beat down on our gray bodies. We are standing their on this poop covered beach looking out on a gray lake that slowly turns blue. The color dances and sparkles in the sun.

I feel the vitamin K surge into my skin. I am plugged in again. My body is filled with life and energy. I put my face to the sun and feel the warmth. I put my arms out like an airplain and soak up the rays. I see other people being rejuvenated around me. People are smiling lauhging. They are joyously pointing up to the sky. The great gray has lifted. We have rebelled and we have won! Then about ten minutes later the blue is gone and gray colors our lives once more.

My friend and I go back to her house and have the kids play in the sprinkler. Yes, 70 degrees and a dark gray cloudy sky. Better get used to it kids. Happy Summer.

Rain, Rain, Cut The Crap!

Today is the 19th rainy day here in New England. My garden has drowned and my kids and I are sprouting mold. All I want to do is cuddle up in my bed alone under a quilt and read. Too bad I finished my book and my new book that I requested from the library is still not in. I know that I can simply read one of the hundreds of books that I have laying around here, but it's been raining for 19 days and I am refusing to be anything but miserable.

Have you ever seen what happens to me when I am in a serious bad mood? I take my super hero powers of friendliness, niceness, and humor, and I turn them over to the dark side! I become Evil Nasty Lydia OF Doom. Like when the WB canceled the Gilmore Girls. I walked right by cute little Girl Scouts selling cookies at a table in front of Walmart and I didn't even smile at them! I even wanted to buy Thin Mints, but I didn't. I just walked right by! Take that! Little-Cookie-Selling-Goody-Two Girls! Oh and later that night I told the kids that we were out of ice cream. We weren't! We just had enough left in the carton for one more bowl. I that last bowl myself after they went to bed! Okay so I do that all of the time, but that night I didn't feel bad.

This rain is bringing on the evil selfish thoughts again. All I want to do is stay in my bed and read. Okay so I found an okay book to read in this huge book pile by my bed. Reading is not evil, but in order to spend the day reading in this manner I'd have to lock the kids in the basement. Or I could them in the playroom with snacks and nail the door shut? What? I am kidding. I am so not kidding. Knowing my kids they'd just climb out the windows. What if I simply take them to the YMCA and put them in the free childcare center there while I read in the lobby? I could bring a comfy blanket, a pillow, and a hot cup of coffee? Is that wrong? I could tell Dave that me and the kids had a great day at the YMCA. We might all come home in a good mood? The kids are happy there because a crazed mom isn't yelling at them all of the time. I am happy because I get my big-girl time out. Now if only one of the cute personal trainer guys would give me a message while I read? Now that would make this rain go away even just for a while. If you want me that's where I'll be. Then I am going home to build my ark.

Practice Makes perfect

Today my mom and her husband drove up from Cape Cod to babysit the kids. My mom and her husband are a perfect babysitting duo for the kids. Grandma is a big talker. She spends endless time playing and chit-chatting with Dylan. Their conversations cover all sorts of topics from what books he is reading, hie pretend adventures, and even the newest aspirations of his lifelong dreams. Grandpa is quiet and calm. Alice loves to sit with him and show him all of her toys. He quietly hangs out with her while she introduces the toys one by one and then piles them all around him on the couch.

They were all having so much fun this afternoon that no one even noticed when Dave and I left the house. When we returned a few hours they were all as happy as bees in a hive. Later when they had to go we did have to physically remove Dylan from off of Grandma. He loves her so much that he was laying across her on the couch holding her captive. He kept saying. "Momma, can't Grandma stay!" Grandma kept saying. "No. Grandma has to go home." Then she would trying to force Dylan off of her and they were both laughing.

We eventually extracted Grandma from the couch and with many hugs and kisses we said our goodbyes and off they went home to Cape Cod. Later this evening grandma called to tell me that with all of the commotion she forgot to tell me about a conversation she and Dylan had.

Dylan told her that boys are better at video games than girls. When Grandma disagreed and asked him why he thinks that. My son replied. "Grandma boys are much better at aiming because they have to practice every day!"
"Practice?" She replied.
"Yes! Or you miss the bowl!"

I am so proud! Just wanted to share.

Happy Summer

Today is finally the day-that special day that kids wait for all year, the only day better than Christmas-yes today is June 22nd, the first day of summer. About 18 days ago we had anticipated celebrating this joyful June day swimming at our local pond, or even taking a road trip to Cape Cod to spend a fun day at the beach. I remember the good old days way back18 days ago when the sun shone hot in the sky and the ground was dry. Since then we have had a few hours of scattered sun and warmth, but not enough to dry the ground in my yard or my bones.

I am a happy smiling down right cheery chick, but I am finding it harder and harder to get out of bed each morning. I have long ago run out of fun things for my kids to do on these torturous rainy days. All I know for sure is that they can not stay here in my house. Do yo know what bored energetic children do to a poor defenseless house? Let me tell you. This morning my kids wake up and for some odd reason bring all of their bed coverings and all 800 of their stuffed animals down into the living room. Then they turn on the TV so the animals can watch cartoons. I guess at some point the toy animals get hungry because my kids make breakfast for their hundreds and hundreds of stuffed friends. Why are their so many damn animals? Are the kids breading them in their room? Or more importantly What do stuffed animals eat for breakfast? Special fake animal food? Why no! They eat a bowl of cereal and milk of course. Bowls, spoons, cereal, and milk in my living room! All over my living room! I come down stairs dreading another rainy day looking for coffee. But what do I find in my once clean living room? Some kind of youth hostile/animal restaurant/shelter! I see comforters, pillows, sheets, all of the bowls from the cupboard, all of the spoons from the drawer, a newly bought box of cereal exploded all over the rug, and a gallon of milk dripping all over my coffee table.

The kids greet me with a exuberant. "Surprise! We made our animals breakfast!" I look at their happy adorable smiling faces. Then I look at the trashed living room. I do what any sane person would do in the same situation. Do I shriek and commit bodily harm? No, the rain has warn me down. I turned right back around and go back up the stairs and get back in to bed. A few minutes later my husband gets out of bed. Then I hear him go down stairs. Then I here screaming. Lots of screaming and then the sound of kids scattering around and up and down the stairs. I pretend to sleep for about 20 minutes more until I smell the beautiful smell of freshly brewed coffee wafting up the stairs.

What it's June 22nd I have just started my summer vacation!

Why Lydia Hates Father's Day

I never had a father, I had a crazy gay friend who I saw on the weekends. At his condo on Huntington Avenue in Boston where I could smoke cigarettes and drink sweet champagne. At his house I could do anything I wanted except annoy him. Too bad that I was twelve, and almost everything that I did was annoying. Like the time I ate some of the pot brownies that he was hiding on top of the refrigerator. I remember laughing so hard and believing that if I dove off of his 23rd floor balcony that I might be able to fly. Before I could try he brought me inside to yell at me. Apparently he was saving them for a party he was having during the week. I was relieved that he never told my mother, like his silence had something to do with protecting me.

I believed back then that my father loved me. He let me stay out late with him and his friends at local coffee houses. As long as I didn't say anything or bother him we got along fine. His friends used to tell him that I was a child and I should be at home asleep. But, my father always stuck up for me. He treated me like an adult. After he and his friends spent most of the night drinking martinis he would trust me to pay for our cab home with his wallet, and use his keys to open the condo door, and even put him to bed. Then I would stay up all night eating junk food, smoking cigarettes, and watching cable TV. Then I could sleep as late as I wanted the next day.

Sometimes I would sleep until 3:00PM. We'd sleep right through Sunday Mass. After my father was up we'd have to pull all of the shades because his head hurt. I'd go fetch aspirin, water, and his hot-water bottle. Then eventually at around 5:00pm he'd make us omelets and drink Bloody Mary's. I'd drink orange juice and champagne while I watched Creature Double Feature movies on the TV. Later that evening when my mom came to pick me up he would lie for me. He'd tell her that we went out to a nice brunch after Mass and then to the Gardner Museum. He was always watching out for me. He lied to my mother every weekend so that I wouldn't get in to trouble.

I could never find father's Day cards that mentioned the kinds of things that my father did for me. I would always have to make my own. I'd use pink paper and lots of glitter. I made them every year, until the day came that I just stopped. I haven't felt much like celebrating this day ever since.