Sunday, April 27, 2008

Duped!

Bugaboo came home with a big smile on her face last week. She was very excited that Coach had volunteered the JV swim team to teach the special needs kids how to swim. A few weeks ago she got her Red Cross CPR certification and went through lifeguard class and since then her dream has been to teach swimming lessons. And she has a history with the special needs girls at her school.

OK. Maybe the special needs girls reach out to anyone that passes by, but I kind of don't think so. She is always very nice to them and has always smiled at them in the halls and tried to make them feel "normal" and so this year they have frequently stopped her to talk. They tell her secrets, like how this one is getting married (tee hee!) and how that one's brother died and various events in their lives. She doesn't know how much is real and how much isn't but she acts like it all is and gives them the appropriate response.

"Oh, congratulations! When's the big day?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that. You must be very sad."

They love her.

Each team member got assigned to one person. We'll call Bugaboo's girl Ingrid. Day after day Bugaboo worked with Ingrid on the basics to get her comfortable in the water and learn the movements that will help her swim.

"OK, Ingrid! Do the alligator crawl!" That got her arms moving.

"OK, Ingrid! Great! Blow your dandelions!" Breathing.

"Kick, Ingrid, kick! You're doing great!"

Ingrid did NOT, however, ever want to jump off the edge. Bug didn't push her, just tried to encourage her.

Friday they were in the pool and Bugaboo was cheerleading and encouraging her little heart out. Ingrid was doing awesome. She was very proud of her little protege and very proud of herself because this was so easy for her! Ingrid was actually swimming and it was all because of Bugaboo. What an accomplishment! Was there some way she could make a career out of this? Everyone is always trying to impart the life lesson that says to do what you love. She LOVED this and she was obviously a pro at it.

Unfortunately another life lesson is that if things seem too good to be true, they probably are. After lessons Coach pulled her aside and told her that Ingrid's mom had called.

Ingrid already knows how to swim.


Friday, April 25, 2008

A Man of Action

Snick is very excited for this weekend. Yes, we are going to a birthday party this afternoon, but that's not what has his spirits soaring. This Sunday night he and SSB are going to a World Vision banquet and he can't wait.

Three Christmases ago when Snick was 6 we somehow ended up watching one of those help-save-the-fly-covered-kid specials one night. You know the ones. The ones that most people flee the room from or turn the channel to anything, even PBS or the Womens channel, to avoid. Not us. Not this time. I thought since it was Christmas it would give the kids a chance to think about giving instead of getting. Change their focus a little. We sat and watched and it was very heart-wrenching


There were some very sad stories about kids who lost their parents to AIDS and had to work to survive. In one story about a brother and sister the grandparents died, then the dad, then a brother and then the mom got sick. The two kids worked enough to send her to a hospital, but she died there. The hospital only sent back her clothes so that is what they buried and went visit her grave.
Ugh! But through story after story about orphans and hunger and death, the kids sat in stony silence. No one moved or commented. A few tears may have slid down some cheeks but they were quickly wiped away.

Snick seemed the most unimpressed. He watched and took it all in but kept a very blank look on his face. This wasn't, and still isn't, unusual. We're used to this look. I thought I'd give him a break, he WAS only in first grade and its not like he could really save anyone with his $1.50 a week allowance anyway.

About half-way through he asked if he could write down the toll free number that was at the bottom of the screen. I said yes and got him some paper. He already had it mostly memorized and wrote it down without much looking. Then he wrote down the website also.

We watched a couple more stories and then he asked for more paper to write a letter. In big, 6-year-old scrawl that took up the whole paper he wrote: "Your life must suck. No mom. No dad. Only a gramma or grampa. Watching you makes Snickety sad. From Snickety. To: (blank)" Then he drew a big heart.
He got an envelope out of the desk drawer and put his letter in it and then got all of his dollars out of his piggy bank and put that in too. On the TV they said it only costs a dollar a day to sponsor a child so he figured out that since he had $31 saved up he could help someone for a whole month. He sealed it up and wrote our address in the corner.

SSB came home at about that time and watched with us and saw what Snick was doing. He praised him for his big heart and then tried to explain to him that we would probably have to send a check. Snick had no idea what a check even was, and as SSB was explaining the banking system to him he just went over and started dialing the phone and called World Vision. Enough stalling. While we all sat there feeling sad and sorry or trying to be practical, he was the only one that actually did anything about it. SSB took the phone to talk to them for him. Snick then became the proud sponsor of Foday, a 7-year-old boy in Sierra Leone.

If it had been me that called World Vision, the thing that I don't think I could even fake is how humble he was about it. As we all sat in amazement at his generosity and caring he just went on upstairs to watch cartoons. It was no big deal to him. To him it was just something needed to be done.

Now he gets letters every month, not from the kid, but from the organization. There is always a calamity that needs to be taken care of. I have started keeping them from him because he wants to send extra money all the time. He got hold of one last summer though. This one was orange and had "CHILD KILLER" across it with a picture of a mosquito. A child dies every 30 seconds from malaria. Well. Snick couldn't let that happen. He read the whole thing from front to back, top to bottom then decided he was going to send some of his own money for malaria medicine. He marked the $30 donation box. SSB tried to talk him down to $10 because it would his own money, not our credit card like the automatic monthly donation. They went back and forth, discussing and disagreeing and somehow in the end he convinced his dad to let him give $50, not $30. Don't ask me how it happened, I wasn't there. But I sure wish I had a tape recording of THAT conversation.

I am curious to see what happens Sunday night. I told SSB to NOT take the checkbook and credit cards with him but I'm afraid if he does that the only alternative Snick will give him is to bring an actual child home instead.

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

All Thumbs

Snickety is one of the sweetest kids anyone will ever meet. When he was 6 one night I noticed that my hands smelled like garlic. I hadn’t made anything for dinner that had any garlic in it so it was a mystery. I washed them and slathered on some VERY smelly lilac lotion. Everyone was almost gagging because I smelled of lilac so much.

But after an hour or two it wore
off, at least on my thumb. My thumb again smelled of garlic. Or battery acid. Or rat poison. I had received differing opinions when I asked each person what they thought it smelled like. Right before bed I asked Snick what he thought. He said he thought it stunk, but didn’t know what of. I let it go at that and he went and brushed his teeth and put on his pajamas. later he came out and gave me a hug and kiss goodnight and said, "If I
had a four-leaf clover, I would wish that your thumb would never smell like that again." How sweet and selfless!

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Pootiepie was, and still pretty much is, a tomboy. When she was about 2 she wouldn't wear anything but jeans. Then it progressed to no girl shirts or shoes or anything at all girly. Everything had to come from the boys' department and even then it had to be JUST RIGHT. At the end of Kindergarten I even relented and let her get her hair cut BOY SHORT, like with a mountain top in front. She loved it.

About a month before she turned 4 I was sitting in the glider rocker and she came and sat on the stool in front of me. She was very serious about something. Her eyes were as big as the moon. She looked straight at me and asked, "Do you want to know how to be a man?"

"Sure," I said.

"OK" she instructed. "Do this." Then she stuck her thumb in her mouth, pulled it out with a POP! and wiped it across her forehead making a cowlick in her hair. I copied her.

"Do this" she said again and the thumb went back in her mouth, out with a pop, and wiped it down her shin.

We did the same thing to the other leg. I was a little freaked out because she wasn't giggling or being silly or anything. She meant business. Where had she learned such a ritual?

"OK. Now do this" she said as the thumb went in her mouth. It came out with a pop and she made a squinched-up icky face.

When I followed her lead and did the same she said, "Does yours taste yucky too?"

I'm guessing she wiped a bunch of dirt off her legs with that thumb then tasted it. Ew.
I said no.

This went on a few more times wiping our wet thumbs across our foreheads again (but NOT in our hair!) across one cheek and then the other. Then she just sat there and stared at me.

Finally she said, "There. You're done" and left.

She was so intense and serious I was just a tiny bit afraid to check my drawers. I never figured out how this all came about in her little head or if she really believed it or not. I'm glad it didn't work on either one of us, but she may still be a bit disappointed. Especially now that she has to shave her legs.

Thursday, April 3, 2008

Yesterday started out pretty great. My heart was tickled or warmed by four, really FOUR, things all in one day. I'm thrilled when just one good thing happens every few days.

1. I received an Oh Shitballs award from Kadi at Seven Seeds. Thank you very much. She is going to have the whole world using that phrase!
2. Artist Mommy said some very nice things about me in her blog that made me smile. You just cannot imagine how happy I am that she moved in to our neighborhood.
3. My sister blogged about a random act of kindness she got to spontaneously perform. How sweet of her.
4. My brother got a business call (he's a mover) from an olde
r-sounding woman who wanted to know how much he charges. He gave her the prices and said there is a two-hour minimum. She said she just needs someone to lift a TV onto a TV stand. Awww. He felt bad. She doesn't even have a neighbor or friend that can lift it? She has to hire someone? She is supposed to call back to let him know when she wants him to do it and he said he's just going to do it for free. Another sweetie. :)

But all those nice things weren't enough to save the day because we lost SSB's dad yesterday afternoon. Although it wasn't a complete surprise, it was unexpected at this time. He had a lung transplant last year and had never really gotten well. He was in the hospital for weakness but we all thought he'd get better again like he always has. He was a really nice man who is much loved and very missed.


Goodbye Grandpa.