Leanna Kay

Ten years old?! Where did the time go? It seems like just yesterday I was holding your tiny body against mine, wiping spit up off your chin and changing your dirty diapers. (Hey, if I get to embarrass Drew, I get to embarrass you too!)

You have matured so much in the last year. I am now seeing glimpses of the man I know you will someday be. You are still very competitive and as you get older, this drive to win makes you try and try until you get it right. Unfortunately this competitive streak runs through everything you do.

“Mom, I can beat you at Wii Mariokart.”

“Yeah, like that’s a challenge. Your five-year-old cousin can beat me at that game.”

“How about basketball, Mom?”

“Ditto the five-year-old cousin remark.”

“I can beat you at chess. I can swim faster than you. I can stand on one leg longer. I can drink my milk faster….”

Finally, I just have to concede that you are the victor so we can move on with life. And while the drive to win can wear on my nerves, you also work hard at everything you do which means you’re doing very well in school. You won’t go outside to play until all your homework is done and you’ve memorized every pertinent fact for any upcoming tests.

Besides being studious, you’re also very kind to animals. This summer when we went to Hilton Head Beach, you found a starfish washed on shore. The poor starfish was missing an arm and struggling to live on the sand. You captured the poor creature in your sand bucket and carried it back into the sea where you carefully placed it back in the water so it could live.

Five minutes later the starfish washed back onto shore again. You found him and put him back into the ocean. This process must have repeated itself ten times and with each sighting, the creature appeared more and more lifeless. Finally we didn’t see the starfish again. You were so pleased with yourself for “saving” its life. I complimented you on your humanitarian efforts though I was secretly sure the thing had washed down tide to die in peace.

You are also kind to people. When your great-grandma died, I sat all three of you kids down in the living room and tried to tell you that Grandma had gone to heaven. At least that’s the way I’d planned it. We were going to have a nice chat about her dying and we were going to talk about what a nice place she was in so we wouldn’t have to be so sad.

Things didn’t go as I’d planned. I sat you three down and got as far as the “Grandma” part of my planned speech before I started to cry and no more words would come out. But you didn’t need me to be the one doing the comforting, you took on that role. The tears had barely started falling from my eyes before you were up out of your seat with your arms around me in a big hug. You were the one who patted me on the back and told me Grandma was in heaven. You will never know how much your kindness that day meant to me.

I feel so lucky that you are my son and I can’t wait to see where life will take us in this next year. Happy Birthday Chris!

Better late than never.  The boys actually turned ten on March 4th.  But life intervened so I’m just now getting around to writing their birthday tributes.

As you turn ten years old, it’s hard for me to believe you’re more than halfway to adulthood. It seems like only yesterday I was cleaning smooshed peas off your little chin and changing your dirty diapers. (Yes, Drew. We mothers do write these things to embarrass our children. I fully intend to read my unedited journal as a tribute to you at your wedding complete with a slide show to illustrate each point….. You’re welcome my little sweetykins.)

You’ve done a lot of growing in the last year and I don’t just mean those pants I keep buying that grow too small in just a month or two. Just last year, you finally realized that the dog needs fed occasionally. Granted, you still want to offer her the asparagus and lima beans off your own plate so I’m not sure how altruistic you’re being. But you do now take responsibility for feeding her every day, for which I’m grateful.

In the last year, we’ve had a lot of fun. When we went to Hilton Head beach this summer, you longed for a boogie board to ride the waves. When you saw the price tag, I could see your yearning war with your hesitation to spend the money.

“Mom, I really don’t need that,” you said. The longing in your voice told me different. The happy look on your face alone would have made spending the money worthwhile. But the true joy was watching your intensity in mastering the new skill and your pride when you could ride a wave all the way to shore without toppling into the water. No matter how old you get, I hope you never forget that kind of joy.

I also hope you never lose the joy you’ve found in reading. In the Fall last year, you discovered the Harry Potter series. I think you were first motivated to try them because the school assigned the books a high point value which really pushed up your reading grade. But from the first page, you were fascinated, reading the whole series in a little over two weeks.

I loved the way you didn’t want the fantasy to end. You found a stick in the yard and made it into a magic wand. Then you spent the next week casting pretend spells over your brother and sister. Even though I admired your creativity, I did have to get on you for trying to turn your sister into a warty frog.

In this last year, we’ve weathered some bad times too. Right around your tenth birthday, my grandmother passed away at the age of 94. In your lifetime, you’ve seen her go from an energetic white-haired woman who played kick ball with you to the frail old lady who couldn’t get out of her hospital bed. Because she lived next door, she’s been a constant presence in your life.

Even though I planned my words carefully all day while you were at school, when the time came to tell you she was gone, nothing came out except tears. But you understood as soon as I said it was about great-grandma. You knew she’d gone to heaven and you started crying too.

“I’m going to miss her too,” you said as we hugged each other. “Every day, I’ll miss her,” you added. You understood and you made me feel I wasn’t so alone in my grief.

I appreciate the way that you always seem to “get it” even though you’re still young. Your third grade teacher marveled at the way you would always get her subtle humor, laughing when no one in the classroom understood the joke. You have such a wonderful sense of humor and many times I’ve caught your eye and we’ve shared a private smile at some sarcastic barb no one else got.

You continue to grow and I see subtle glimpses of the wonderful man I know you will someday be. I can’t wait to see where life will take us in this next year. Happy Birthday!

WHY WOMEN SHOULDN’T TAKE MEN SHOPPING

After he retired, a woman insisted that her husband accompany her on her trips to Target . Unfortunately, like most men, he found shopping boring and preferred to get in and get out. Equally unfortunate, his wife is like most women - she loves to browse.

Yesterday the wife received the following letter from the local Target.

Dear Mrs. Jones, Over the past six months, your husband has caused quite a commotion in our store. We cannot tolerate this behavior and have been forced to ban both of you from the store. Our complaints against your husband, Mr. Jones, are listed below and are documented by our video surveillance cameras.
1. June 15 : Took 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in other people’s carts when they weren’t looking.

2. July 2 : Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go off at 5-minute intervals.

3. July 7 : He made a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the women’s restroom.

4. July 19 : Walked up to an employee and told her in an official voice, ‘Code 3 in Housewares. Get on it right away?. This caused the employee to leave her assigned station and receive a reprimand from her Supervisor that in turn resulted with a union grievance, causing management to lose time and costing the company money.

5. August 4 : Went to the Service Desk and tried to put a bag of M&Ms on layaway.

6. August 14 : Moved a ‘CAUTION - WET FLOOR’ sign to a carpeted area.

7. August 15 : Set up a tent in the camping department and told the children shoppers he’d invite them in if they would bring pillows and blankets from the bedding department to which twenty children obliged.

8. August 23 : When a clerk asked if they could help him he began crying and screamed, ‘Why can’t you people just leave me alone?’ EMTs were called.

9. September 4: Looked right into the security camera and used it as a mirror while he picked his nose.

10. September 10: While handling guns in the hunting department, he asked the clerk where the antidepressants were.

11. October 3: Darted around the store suspiciously while loudly humming the ‘Mission Impossible’ theme.
12. October 6: In the auto department, he practiced his ‘ Madonna look’ by using different sizes of funnels.
13. October 18: Hid in a clothing rack and when people browsed through, yelled ‘PICK ME! PICK ME!’
14. October 21: When an announcement came over the loud speaker, he assumed a fetal position and screamed ‘OH NO! IT’S THOSE VOICES AGAIN!’ And last, but not least:

15. October 23: Went into a fitting room, shut the door, waited awhile, then yelled very loudly, ‘Hey! There’s no toilet paper in here.’ One of the clerks passed out.

As many of you who follow this blog know, my instances of motherhood insanity know no bounds. I’ve been known to lean toward a kid who’s obviously about to vomit with my hands wide open to catch the puke. I’ve eaten peanut butter and ham sandwiches doused in ketchup just to see my kid smile at his culinary creativity. I’ve stood over the oven for three hours straight baking cookies for a child who wanted to serve his classmates a warm from the oven treat on his birthday. But probably the craziest thing I’ve ever done is start a Brownies troop for my daughter.

In the last year, our troop has grown from twelve rambunctious first and second graders to eighteen “bouncing off the wall” “crazed with energy” girls. We’ve gotten so rowdy the principal from the school for the deaf has called to complain. Well, maybe I exaggerate just a tiny bit.

Today, the girls were wound for sound because it was the favorite holiday for all 7-8 year old girls. April Fools Day. The minute the girls walked into the meeting room, the silliness began.

“Miss Leanna, your shoes untied.”

So of course I looked. Which only fueled the fire.

“Your shirts unbuttoned.”

“Your pants are on backwards.”

“There’s a spider on your head.”

“Your foot’s on fire.”

“No, it’s your butt that’s on fire.”

Well, you get the point. For an hour, the girls kept coming up with one fanciful story after another and then giggling and yelling “April Fool’s.” Of course, I played along. But by the end of the meeting, my head was hurting from jerking around to see which of my body parts were in flames or falling off. In comparison, that peanut butter, ham, ketchup sandwich wasn’t all that hard to swallow.