MotherMorphosis

My oldest crossing over from elementary to middle school For the second time that day, I stood in my driveway watching one of my boys cross Main Street. My middle son was waiting at the crosswalk for someone – anyone – to stop so he could walk his bike across. It was late afternoon and he was going to ride the half mile to the elementary school where he would meet a friend and his mom, and they would all ride back together. I watched as cars sped past him and one of them whipped around the corner onto our street. I felt like shouting at the guy to slow down, but I just looked at him. Okay, maybe I gave him the angry eyebrows. The speed limit on our street is 25 m.p.h., but it’s the rare driver who actually sticks to the limit, though the cones we put out while waiting for the morning school bus do give some people pause. The first time was at the earlier end of that day. My oldest had come bombing back into the house, slightly breathless, “Mom, I think I missed the bus!” I was standing...

I was sad when football ended. The first week after our last game, I felt empty. We had three extra hours on Tuesday and Thursday to…not get ready for football, not play football, and not talk about football on the way home from football. I don’t remember what we did. Basketball is underway, we’re already talking about baseball, and my oldest will be trying winter lacrosse this year. So there are other sports, and other seasons to look forward to. My older two currently want to be MLB players when they grow up so we actually don’t put away the baseball gear at all. It sits on our porch year round (and this winter, I’ll have to make sure the gloves don’t spend the season in the back yard buried in snow). But there’s something about football. It’s not just something special for the kids, but also special for the parents and fans. The boys have a brotherhood like I have yet not seen in other sports. My kids have learned a new language, which I don’t understand: “wishbone 33-blast,” “jumbo...

Going back to school can be humbling. Never mind lunch in the middle school cafeteria with my oldest and six of his friends or playing “pin the spider on the web” with 40 or so sometimes-reluctant-to-be-blindfolded-and-spun-in-circles kindergartners at their Halloween party – last week I went in for 4th grade recess duty. Normally this means I’d hang out with them and remind them of playground rules (which no doubt they know better than me to begin with), but since it was raining, the kids had indoor recess in their classrooms. The teachers took their breaks while aides watched the classes, and they didn’t really need me in the room, though my son’s teacher told me I was welcome to stay in the class if I thought my son would like it. “No, that’s okay, I am sure he’s just happy that I’m nearby. Do you need me to do anything else…?” And that is how I became acquainted with the school copier. After conferring with the teacher across the hall, it was decided that they needed 4 x 30 booklet...

“Oh! Look what I found!” I said, forcing my enthusiasm just a little. I pulled a package of Fruit Smiles out of my pocket. We were on our way out of the school gym where my oldest was having basketball practice. Truthfully, I hadn’t just found them – I realized they were in there this morning when I put the coat on for the first time in God-knows-how-long (I remember wearing it to a Red Sox game in 2009 but not since). My youngest son perked up a little. I examined the package to make sure they weren’t expired or anything. “Would you like them, honey?” “Okay, Mommy,” he said as he took his thumb out of his mouth. We were standing outside the car in the drizzle. I opened the package and squeezed one of them. Yup, still soft. “Here you go.” “Thanks, Mom.” “You’re welcome, lovey.” I continued, “You’re not feeling so great about yourself, are you.” “No,” he answered in a small voice. I opened the car door and helped him climb in. He had gotten into some trouble at extended day today, and w...

“Can we sit up in the balcony, Mom?” I had been sitting in our church pew for a good five minutes after choir practice, waiting for the kids to come up from Sunday School. I must have looked a little hesitant, because he continued, “we’re old enough!” “I know you are…” And what was it our pastor had just been saying about friendship and fellowship? My kids just wanted to sit with their friends. “C’mon, mom!” “Okay, honey. But if there’s any trouble up there, you’ll be back down here next time.” When we first started attending this church, my sons were five, four, and three months. We sat in the balcony the first few times, maybe the first month or two. On our debut at the church, my older two were dressed up like Incredible Hulk and SpiderMan (it was two months before Halloween) with noisy little cowboy boots that made the stairs creak as they clomped up and down them. “I’m thirsty,” “I have to go to the bathroom,” “Can I get crayons?” The day that my middle son was sick to his stomach...

“And Heavenly Father, thank you that we got out of the corn maze…” Amen , I said only to myself, because my middle son wasn’t done with the dinner prayer. “Yeah, and that we got our coins!” my youngest chimed in. “It’s not your turn!” my oldest scolded. “Boys!” I gave them both the eye. We’d spent a rough couple of hours in a corn maze today. My oldest was in a hurry and the rest of us had to keep admonishing him to slow down. He and his Cub Scout den mates had only just that morning gotten “lost” in the woods because they’d gone too far ahead of the den leader and parents. I wondered, what’s the rush? – There were plenty of fun things to do inside the corn maze, like basketball, mini golf, giant puzzles, and quizzes. And besides, the quicker we got out, the higher the cost per minute. I’d had to whip out the plastic to pony up the entrance fee, and no, we were absolutely not buying any souvenirs. Their arguments over whose turn it was to lead the way and who was being pokey where int...