The Illness

The boys were all struck down by illness almost two weeks ago. It got bad. I didn’t get a full night’s sleep. So after a week, I was really drained.

Yawning as I put the boys to bed.

Me: I am one tired mama.

Tornado A: Who has three tired babies.

Yes. Yes, I did.

Thank goodness they are on the mends now.

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Tournament

I had my share of competing. Volleyball, basketball, softball, and swimming. In swimming, it was just you in the water. You competed against yourself because if you looked back at your competition, it would slow you down. When the set up your heat, your age and your stroke was all that mattered. So as a freshman, you competed against fully grown seniors. It could be several heats going for three precious spots. You had to push hard because you didn’t know if you could.

The boys’ karate organization breaks down its competitors by age, rank, and size. The compete only in their heat, so each heat has a first, second, third, and so on. At first, I thought it was odd (you know because of ultra-competitive sports), but I’ve learned to see the value in it. Granted, it’s not always fair.

Tornado A got into karate as soon as he was old enough, and he has ranked every semester he has been in the sport, which puts him at a high rank for his age. He does not have many competitors his age and rank. His heats are usually smaller, allowing an easier time to grab a top spot. He still pushes himself though. Those 150 black belts aren’t going to earn themselves.

Tornado E has had the opposite issue. He joined karate at the usual age, and even with jumping rank, he still has lots of competition. Usually his heat is filled with all 8 competitors. He’s small for his age, so he’s competing with girls and boys much bigger than him. A year or so ago, he won nothing until the last event. We had a talk about having to work harder because he’s smaller. This tournament he did rather well.

But in this tournament, Tornado S did not do well. He is small for his age. Then for some reason, only a handful of kids his age were in his rank. So few kids his age were in the ranks around his, that they combined them. So Tornado S competed, not only against kids bigger than him but, against kids that out ranked him by one, two, even three stripes. As you might have guessed, it did not go well for Tornado S. He hung in there until the end, but he never got a coveted place. To add salt to wounds, he even out preformed Tornado E and his heat in points.

So tomorrow I’ll give the lecture of working twice as hard as others because you never know when you’re going to go up against someone bigger and better ranked.

Que a scene of Fae at fourteen (skinny as a bean pole, not yet hitting her growth spurts), on a swimmer’s block, in her team swimsuit, goggles, and a blue silicon swim cap with a braid tucked in, looking over at a big, built senior in her swimsuit, goggles, and silicon swim cap. It’s a sunny day. The senior is doing all sorts of stretches on her block. Fae rolls her shoulders, looks at the camera, and says, “This is not going to end well.” Then she smiles, “But at least, I get to swim.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Easter Church Adventures

What my mother doesn’t understand is that they really do like us at church. Well, maybe not that woman who muttered “Jesus Christ” when she saw me yank Tornado A back from crawling on the pew to pass his brother to get in line for communion. But she was in another row, took God’s name in vain, and left right after communion. So the moral high ground is mine! Mwhahaha!

Yeah, but other than her, they like us. The ushers always are glad to see the boys and talk to them. The deacon is charmed by them. Several of the congregation make it a point to talk to them or me. The priest finds them amusing as they blurt out the homily for a treat or ring the gong. (Yeah, my Catholic church has a gong.) Even the traveling priests are amused by my boys. On a few occasions, one of the traveling priest has included my boys into his homily.

Any ways. I had nothing to worry about getting a seat for Sunrise Mass. The ushers would find us a seat. But we went early with my parents, bringing our own chairs, sitting on the edge, watching the sunrise.

When Tornado A complained (loudly) that he wasn’t blessed with holy water, the deacon came by and drenched Tornado A and me. As though our priest didn’t drench us thoroughly Palm Sunday. (4 times!)

During Giving Peace and after people received communion, a few people walked by to whisper how nice the boys looked. The oldest in their three piece suits with ties. Tornado A in a bow tie and suspenders. (I rock suspenders!)

After services, I sent Tornado A to gather song sheets and the older two to help collect and stack chairs. Tornado S and Tornado E both moaned, dragging a chair or two. I ended up having to hand over my purse to Tornado A to help pick up stacks of three chairs while eyeing my older two.

As we were leaving, an older gentleman came over to me.

Older Guy: Ma’am, I had to laugh when I saw your boys. My brothers and I had to get the same summer haircut.

I looked over at my three boys running through the courtyard. Their heads recently shaved, their preferred haircut.

Me: Yeah, they like it. Less work.

Older Guy: (chuckles) That it is. Happy Easter.

Me: Happy Easter.

I walked away and heard the last part of his conversation.

Older Guy: (to his female companion) Those boys have a lot of personality.

Older Woman: I can tell. Their mother must be a saint.

Oh, they do. I just happen to be a saint with a lot of personality to.

Suit

Me: Ok. Try it on.

Damn.

Too small.

Fine.

Let’s go.

Because my boys want to wear suits to church. Because they want to wear suits to formal events. Because my boys like suits.

So Friday, two days before Easter, I took Tornado S shopping for a new suit. He was thrilled. I was less so.

I’m not a big fan of shopping. I’m not really good at it. And if you ask any one with boys or have boys yourself, you know that buying clothes other than playwear is a bit difficult. Most stores have a handful of nice button-up shirts and maybe a couple of tie and shirt combinations. Or maybe just 4 dress shirts. Four. Which means, many, many stores if your boys either don’t look good in those or you or they don’t like them. I personally despise sweater and shirt combinations.

Luckily I have a store. Tornado S and I left right after breakfast, which isn’t really impressive because I made breakfast cookies. Like 5 dozen of them.

We walked into the store and walk straight to the back to the boys’ clothes area. Tornado S nearly skipping at the enjoyment of having a Mama Day.

Me: We’re looking for size 12.

Tornado S: Ok!

He made a bee line to the clearance rack and started sifting through them. Huh. Expensive as it was, I knew what I was getting in to. So I started going through the regular price size 12 suits.

After a few moments, I had found a navy, a pin-striped, and a grey. I knew Tornado E would throw a fit if someone else got a pin-striped suit.

Tornado S: Mama. I found a suit. (I looked over.) But it’s blue.

He held it up. It was blue. Not crayon blue but like a bright navy blue.

Me: Ok.

Tornado S: I. I don’t really like blue, Mama.

He looked pathetic. And adorable. I nearly laughed.

Me: Thank you for looking in clearance, but I’m not going to buy you a suit you don’t like. What do you think of this grey one?

He beamed and ran over.

Tornado S: I like it, Mama!

Me: Let’s try on the jacket. Oh good. Perfect. Let’s go buy it.

 

At Easter Mass, I stood between Tornado S in his grey suit and Tornado E in his pin-striped suit. I looked down at Tornado E’s arm. Ah. Damn.

Me: (Whispering) You’re going to need a new suit.

My Dad: (Whispering) I noticed that last week.

Really? You didn’t think to mention that when I said I had to take Tornado S to get a suit.

So guess what we’re doing next weekend.

Studying

I should have put up a sign. Sorry, grading.

Last week was midterms. I actually said to my kids, “Sorry. All laundry services have been suspended until midterms are graded.”

But all midterms were graded. I magnanimously graded late work. All grades were in on time.

Instead of collapsing into a nap/read/gorge-on-salads-and-fruits to regain my strength and sanity, I had to study for a test. A test that I need to be an official teacher, not a temporary-we’ll-see-if-you’ll-make-it teacher. And I misjudged my expiration date. Because I left time to retake the test if need be. Nope. It’s a one shot. From the free throw line. No pressure.

But I’ve done my share of free-throws. And I know how to study. 15 minute increments with 5 minute break. A little every day. Don’t stress. Except the two weeks of intense grading consuming my every waking minute. So I was a little nervous.

During the afternoon, on our first official day off, I sat down to study since no one wanted to go to the movies with me. Thanks, boys.

Me: Tornado E! Here take this. Help me study!

I got a teenage look of boredom and are-you-kidding-me.

Tornado A: I’ll help, Mama!

He grabbed the answers for the study guide.

Me: I’m going to take this test and tell you the answers, and you’re going to tell me if I got it right.

Tornado A: Ok, Mama!

I started to read the long, intricate problem.

Tornado A: You can do it, Mama! This one’s easy!

I glanced up before returning to the problem I was reading.

Me: A!

Tornado A: Yea, Mama! That’s right! Now what’s number 2?

Me: Hold on. I have to read it.

I started reading the problem.

Tornado A: This one is easy, Mama!

Me: Thanks.

I kept reading.

Tornado A: It’s an easy one, Mama!

Me: D!

Tornado A: Good one, Mama! Now 3! It’s easy too!

Me: Baby, you only have the letter answers. I’ve the test.

Tornado A: I know, Mama! But this one is easy!

And so it continued through out the practice test. Except when I got it wrong. Then Tornado A would console me and encourage me to do it again.

He makes a heck of a cheerleader.

 

 

 

Oh, and I did pass my test.

A Book Signing

We had a Festival of Books this weekend, and Tornado E missed it as he was off on an all-weekend school trip. Unfortunately for Tornado E, several authors he likes were in town. Fortunately for me, one of those authors was one of my favorites. So I decided that I HAD to see her and get her to sign a book.

Because I’ve never been to a book signing, I worried that I would only get one book signed, so I slyly asked Tornado S to come with me under the guise of a Mommy Day. Tornado S said yes.

But first we went to the lecture. An hour talk. Which included two other authors in a panel discussion about world creating. It was great. It was funny. I learned a lot. Tornado S was bored out of his mind.

But boredom is good for the mind.

After the lecture, while I waited in line, he ran around in circles to get the energy out. Then he came and stood with me, holding Tornado E’s book. We got to the front of the line.

HB: Hi! (She reached out for a book)

Tornado S: Hi!  (handing her the book) I don’t read your books yet. But my big brother does. But he can’t be here because he’s away for the weekend for school. So can you sign it for my brother?

HB: You stood in line for your big brother? (Tornado S nodded) That was very kind of you. Do you want me to make this out to your brother? What’s his name?

I spelled it for her.

Me: (Whispering to Tornado S) Did you want to ask her your question?

Tornado S: OH! Are you going to make a movie out of your books?

HB: I hope so. Fingers crossed. It’s not up to me.

Tornado S took back the book.

I handed her my book.

Me: I’m a huge fan. Thank you for writing such great books.

HB: Thank you. What’s your name?

I spelled it.

Tornado S: She has two books! Can you sign both of them?

HB: Sure! That’s what I’m here for!

Me: Oh, thanks. (I quickly pulled out the second book and handed it to her) I’ve loved your books since the first one.

HB: (Laughs) Thanks for sticking with me.

Me: I’m making it a family thing. (I patted Tornado S on the head and grabbed my book.) Thank you.

And that’s how my quiet, shy introvert had more guts than me.

The Tornadoes Try to Plan an Impromptu Vacation

On the first day of Rodeo break two weeks ago, I texted my best friend at 10 am.

My phone rang with her ringtone.

Wally: Why aren’t you at school?

Me: Rodeo Break!

Wally: Your town is so weird.

We talked for 45 minutes as she commuted to school. Tornado A insisted on talking to her, but then she had to go. As we were saying goodbye, Tornado S entered the room.

Tornado S: Are we going to see Wally?

Me: Um, no.

Tornado E entered the room.

Tornado E: We’re going to see Wally?!

Me: No. She lives in California.

Tornado A: Is Wally coming to see us?!

Me: No, she’s going to class. Can you here this?

Wally: (laughing) Yeah, but I got to get to class. Tell the boys I love them. I love you.

Me: I love you too. Good luck. Study hard. Bye.

Wally: Thanks. Good luck. Bye.

Click.

Tornado E: When can we see Wally?

Me: Probably this summer.

Tornado S: Why can’t we see her today?

Me: Because she lives 8 hours away, and she has work and school.

Tornado A: So she can come here!

Me: Not possible.

So I have realized we can vacation nowhere but Southern California, so we can visit Wally. Today I told the younger tornadoes about my thought.

Tornado A: Wally is mommish.

Tornado S: Because she’s family!

Tornado A: She’s not family! She’s not related to us!

Tornado S: She’s kin!

Me: I call her my sister.

Tornado A: She doesn’t share our blood.

Me: She shares our heart, and that is more than enough.

Tornado S: YEA!

Tornado: Ok. That’s good enough.