Monthly Archives: August 2012

Cheated by Summer — But Not by Fall

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Getting ready for work this morning, I was gazing out our bedroom window.  (Yes, I literally caught myself gazing.)  Our bedroom is on the second story and there are three trees planted right outside so that the leaves are at window level.  And while I was fiddling with my jewelry and gazing into the leafy canopy, I noticed that some of the leaves were turning bright red around the edges.

As hot and dry and miserable as it has been for us and much of the country this summer, you would think that I would embrace the first signs of the welcoming cool and crisp mornings that make autumn my favorite season.

But I felt a bit of remorse and a little bit cheated.  Our summer had been so busy with sports camps and weekend tournaments and storm damage clean up and weeding in a vegetable garden that was not cooperating, that I felt we hadn’t had a real summer break.  We hadn’t just hung out on the back deck, swatting at mosquitos until we couldn’t take it anymore.  We hadn’t grilled out and roasted marshmallows.  We hadn’t caught fireflies.  We hadn’t eaten ice cream from the Good Humor truck.  We hadn’t ridden our bikes all through the neighborhood until it was almost too dark to see.  We hadn’t played flashlight tag.  We hadn’t eaten watermelon with the juice dripping and staining our T-shirts.

And I won’t make that mistake again.

And with autumn on the cusp, here are our plans:  picking apples, going to the Renaissance Festival, making hot cider, buying a new sweater, going to Friday night football, tailgating, corn mazes, using the heat lamp on the deck and wrapping in a blanket so that we can stay up late talking, bon fires, picking pumpkins, roasting pumpkin seeds, making granola, loving orange.

Matching Towels

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Over the years, I have bought bath towels, hand towels and dish towels in different colors and patterns each intended for a different room.  When we updated the  powder room with a granite countertop and chocolate-brown walls, I bought the white hand towels with a bit of brown piping.  When we remodeled the kitchen, I found gold dish towels and some with a Parisian street scene that complemented the window treatments.  Our daughters’ bathroom is like a beach cottage with white cabinetry and pale green walls, so naturally the bath towels with pale green, blue and cream squares were just perfect.

To my eye, there is absolutely no question as to which room each towel belongs.  And yet, today when I opened the towel drawer in the kitchen, there freshly laundered and neatly folded, was a brown checked hand towel.  We don’t even have brown in the kitchen.  Not to mention the size…this towel was only for salad plates.

Now some of you are reading this and thinking “What has she got to complain about?  Obviously someone brought up the clean laundry and put it in the towel drawer?  Isn’t that a good thing?”  And you are absolutely right.  I am delighted that clean towels made their way to drawers and linen closets and towel bars.  I guess I’m just overly optimistic that someone might actually look at my carefully selected towel that so perfectly matches the decor and put it in the right spot.

And don’t get me started about the “Happy Halloween” towels that live on well into winter or the “Snowmen” towels that finally hibernate around Memorial Day.

Mothers, Men and The First Day of School

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Last week, my kids went back to school.  I know…very early this year!  August 15th!  Something about getting the first semester wrapped up before winter break.  Or maybe wanting an extra week of teaching before state mandated achievement tests.  In any event, they went back.

And I was traveling on business.  Bummer.

As posted previously, we had already enjoyed the traditions of new clothes shopping and school supply shopping.  And it’s not like it was the first day of school as in first day of kindergarten.  But I still missed it.  I missed the super extra bath the night before.  I missed checking the backpack fifteen times.  I missed debating whether or not they should buy lunch or pack lunch.  I missed scrounging around in my purse for enough money to buy lunch.  Thanks to technology, I didn’t miss helping to pick the perfect first day outfit.  My older daughter texted me options and I voted from my hotel room.

I kept asking my husband if he needed me to make him lists and he kept reassuring me “I’ve got it”.  I knew he did but didn’t want to hear that.  I wanted to be there and I wanted to be needed.  Perhaps that’s why he texted late that night to confirm what time each needed child needed to get up and when each of their schools started.  Thank you for needing me.

I called home that morning, timing my call such that they should be up and mostly finished with breakfast but not quite in the chaotic 5 minutes before they are out the door, to wish everyone well and then went off to my meeting.

As we settled around the conference table, opening laptops and stirring coffee, I mentioned that it was my children’s first day of school.  My female colleague made a sad face and said sympathetic things like “you poor darling” and generally gave words of encouragement.  The men across the table smiled and said something along the lines of “bet you’re happy not to be there”.  And such is the difference between mothers and men.

A New Pencil Case

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What is it about shopping for new school supplies?

It seems that ever since school ended, my youngest child has been asking “when are we shopping for school supplies?” every single day  For the older kids, shopping for school supplies has definitely taken a slight back seat to shopping for cool new clothes but remains a much-anticipated activity even for them.

Yesterday evening my husband texted me at work…”When r u coming home?  Girls said u taking them shopping?”  I, of course, had forgotten the promise but promptly wrapped up work and heading home to fetch my darlings and that most important item — the list!  I know it seems a bit early to shop for supplies but I could not take the nightly questions and if I’m honest, some years there were pretty slim pickings when I finally broke down and took them to the local office supply store.  We spent a good hour combing through the aisles of folders and other supplies to find the absolute coolest ones.  Our final selections included BMX, hang-gliding and a backpack with skulls!

This year, my older daughter decided to be “super organized” by color coordinating binders and spiral notebooks and folders for specific classes.  She has been making decorations and doing craft projects like woven basket pencil holders and framing a small mirror for her locker all summer.  I wish I could express some “really?” but that behavior actually reminds me of, well, me.  And I love it!

And while it was tiresome and tedious to open every  single spiral bound notebook on the shelves in search of the one without perforated pages (as listed on the school supply list) I really shouldn’t complain.  I remember being just as impatient and excited and focused on finding the perfect binder when I was in school.  And the alternative is far too painful to contemplate.