Have to post these three photos of Tiller and the twins down the street.* They, along with Rollie, play together about 3 or 4 afternoons a week. Not sure why they were all dressed up, but think it may have had something to do with the twins being dressed up for Mardi Gras.
*Really, this one is just for me and their mom, Lauren.
We’ll get to that at the end, but I thought I’d post some pics of the kiddos and family at the lake for Easter weekend.
In dog years. I love that he sleeps pretty much all day, unless there is another dog around, or you utter the words, “treat,” “squirrel,” or “go.” I say, “wanna go pick up Tiller?” and he is up like a shot, arthritis be damned! Knocks the screen door open by himself and goes out to stand by the car. If i don’t come out fast enough, he trots around the car, as if making sure he doesn’t miss a door starting to open.
He climbs in, then gets in the passenger seat. Waits until i back out of the driveway, and finally turn out of the neighborhood on to the main road. Then he climbs up on that window sill and sticks his nose out like he was five years old again. He stays that way until I come to a light. Sits back down in the seat. Looks at traffic. After I turn? Back up in the window until I turn in at Tiller’s school. Then he waits until kids come out and then sticks the nose out again so all the kids can ooh and aaah over him.
I am so thankful for him; He is my best buddy.
Tiller asked me whose hat this was, sitting on a shelf in my office.
And I said, “Here. I’ll show you.”
That hat always makes me smile.
“Crazy Shirts are Alive and Well,” says a distracted Tech Writer Attempting to work on projects at coffee shop on Sunday afternoon.
There are a plethora of Crazy Shirts available for my viewing pleasure today at the coffee shop. For the uninitiated, Crazy shirts are any bold and colorful patterned button down shirts worn by aging men trying to look interesting or cool despite beer guts and receding hairlines. Most commonly-seen are the hawaiian shirt variety, but lucky crazy shirt sightings might include geometric Max Headroom-style shirts, and other CRAZY patterns. Todd and i first identified the crazy shirt phenomenon a few years ago when given free tickets to see The Church at the Variety Playhouse. Crazy shirts abounded at that show.
Crazy shirts are alive and well at Alcove Coffee this beautiful Sunday afternoon. Thank God the hippie chick isn’t working and some punk rock kid with pink hair and piercings is controlling the music, or i would be in compete and utter hell.
p.s. Wife of most recent crazy shirt sighting had on a female version, involving palm trees on a sea blue background bordered by rum and tequila bottles. This will need further research.
I read an interesting article this morning on parenting.com, about girls and sports. The blogger obviously has two very athletic girls who like to play sports; she bemoans the fact that society doesn’t seem to be able to reconcile beauty and unisex athleticism. Interesting, but not exactly a groundbreaking discussion.
But what about this? What if you are a fairly athletic mom, who grew up playing sports, excelled at many of them, loved playing them, and have a firm understanding of how integral a part they played in the confident adult you have become? What if you want that same confidence and love of exercise for your daughter?
And what if your daughter couldn’t care less about it?
My son loves sports, loves competition, and is pretty athletic, picking things up quickly, with great hand-to-eye coordination. My daughter just doesn’t have that same ingrained sense of competition or love of sport.
She likes to sing. And dance. And color. And sing. There is a lot of singing.
When I put her on a soccer field, she is oblivious to the ball. She is looking for dandelions in the grass, and perfecting twirling in circles as fast as possible. We say, “Just go out and have a good time.” She says, “I hate soccer.” I am making her play out the season, hoping it will click one day, and knowing it probably won’t, but taking her to the game anyway, because she signed up to be on a team, and at least she is learning something about follow-through and being part of a team, and obligation.
I want her to do some physical activity every season, to learn to make exercise a part of her life. We have done dance. (Suprisingly, she hated it. Evidently, baby girl doesn’t want someone to tell her how to dance.) We will put her on swim team this summer. If nothing else, she gets cheap swim instruction and a practice with friends every day. If she doesn’t want to swim in meets, we won’t make her.
I have thought that maybe she might enjoy karate, or something like that, more than team sports or ball sports.
But there is the dilemma: Am i trying to force something on her that is not in her nature? First and foremost, i am interested in her physical health. Am I wrong to force her to try different sports and activities, in hopes that something will catch her interest? I certainly don’t try to subvert her love of art and music, nor would i want to – they are an important part of who she is. I feel that I nurture those, too, but is it wrong to want to make sure she is physically active and healthy? Or am I doing more damage than good?
What is a mother to do?
And, God forbid, what if my daughter ends up wanting to be a cheerleader? Because, you know that is probably what will happen.
Tiller loves these Littlest Pet Shop toys. (Don’t get me started on “littlest” – I have just recently gotten over it.) So, she has about a million, and today she lined them up to watch her eat lunch, or as she put it, “to see what I get.”
She then ate her peanut butter and honey sandwich, singing them original song lyrics about sandwiches and pretzels to the tune of The Hold Steady’s “Sequestered in Memphis.”
She is a funny bird.
Rollie and Tiller interview on Valentine’s Day. Captures their personalities pretty well. Rollie is in a sugar coma, while Tiller is bouncing off the walls.
Happy belated Valentine’s Day!
Rollie was in his first grade musical last week. Okay, I don’t like to brag, but he was the lead in the first grade musical.
I know what you’re thinking. . . where did that come from? He didn’t get that from his mama, that’s for sure. And you’re right. His teacher told me she wanted to challenge him. He had to memorize a lot of lines for the thing. I think it had little to do with stage presence, dreams of being a star, or singing ability. I think it just probably had to do with height and ability to read well.
In truth, when i found out he was the lead, my first reaction was, “oh, GAWD.” I hate musicals, drama, etc. I mean, I’ll go see Shakespeare, but I have never been a theatrical person, had any desire or aspirations to act or dance or sing. I have a terrible voice. I am not creative. I think musicals, for the most part, are stupid. Sorry, Glee fans.
I had people come up to me and say, “Hey, Rollie is THE BEAR! Congratulations! and then look at me, as if ready to gauge my reaction. (At first, my reaction was, “So?” Because I hadn’t read that sheet that comes home with instructions on how to dress your child for the play, and with the lines and parts. So I didn’t really know that the bear was, like, a big deal.)
I have to admit, when my kid is chosen for a role like this, sometimes I sense a bit of jealousy. It sounds crazy, and maybe it is my imagination, but in a way, a role like this is LOST on someone like me. It is ironic, then, that my son is chosen for the lead on something like this. I could care less. But there are moms out there who would LOVE to do this thing, who would make a beautiful costume for their kid, and go through trial runs of makeup, and sew, for fuck’s sake. I am not that mom.
All that being said, when his teacher framed it as “challenging him” i was glad that she did it. he had to work hard to memorize his lines, and I had to get out of my comfort zone just to watch him in the performance, so i guess it was challenging all around. And working up to the day of the play, i became increasingly nervous for him. He is so smart and charming, when he wants to be. And when he doesn’t. . . well, he is going to be the person he wants to be. To the point where I could have seen him saying, five minutes before the play, “I don’t feel like being the bear.” Or, “I’m not wearing the ears.” Or just having a meltdown and kicking things and crying. I was a nervous wreck, and mostly just trying to be upbeat and excited, to mirror excitement for him.
And it seemed to work. Todd and I were in the crowd, with his parents, my parents, my sister, Dash, and Tiller. The lights went down and the whole thing went off without a hitch. (Well, there was some kind of whispered squabble for a second, between him and the owl, but it passed quickly and nearly imperceptibly.) All of the animals made it up and back down the mountain in one piece. Dash clapped with glee throughout the whole thing. The cast sang in sweet unison, and hugged and held hands, and I marveled at the sight of these kids I know in real life becoming their animal and embracing their parts, even if they just had one line, and making them their own.
And after, when the bear and the other animals were taking their bow, i was proud. And I thought, huh, maybe I DO like musicals.
Rollie, just hours before showtime.
Behind the Music: The Making of Da Bear
John, Greta and . . One of the twins. (Dang it.)
Principal with Beautiful Scenery
Rollie as Da Bear. I was so nervous and proud to watch him up on that stage.
The Bunny Twin (Leah? Syd?)
The Quail Twin?
The cast of the first grade play: The Bear Went Over the Mountain.
Rollie with castmates Skye and Katie
A closeup of Mama's little bear.
Rollie and Grace had two of the biggest parts in the play (she was the owl). they had to sing together and hold hands, and they did a great job. Only one little sec where I thought Rollie might get mad and push her or something. Have you seen Black Swan? I guess these performances can be real pressure cookers. Other than that, they did GREAT!
Syd and Leah: I believe they are a Quail and a Bunny.
Rollie, with fans Dash and Tiller, Post-Performance
One other thing I forgot to mention, which falls under the “family lore” category. Growing up, when my sister and i were young teens, and allowed to watch things like PG 13 movies, we often watched movies as a family. For some reason, my father, completely uncomfortable with the blossoming womanhood of his two daughters, would sing, “The Bear Went Over the Mountain” at the top of his voice during sex scenes in movies. To this day, i cannot separate the song “The bear went over the mountain” from thoughts of my father making last ditch attempts at shielding his innocent daughters from the likes of Tom Cruise getting it on with Kelley McGillis in Top Gun. It cracks me up to this day.
Rollie had his first Honor’s Day this morning. (It was mine and Todd’s too.) So cute to see all of the kids his age, and have their names called out and see them walk across the stage, shake the Principal’s hand, and then look out to find us.
Also a little bittersweet, because my first baby is a baby no more.
Here is the proud little guy, holding up his awards. He took the unibomber jacket off for the actual ceremony and walking across the stage. Small victories.