WORD

This morning I received a text from a friend asking what "word" means. No, I don't mean the actual word "word". I mean the slang term "word".

I told her I thought it meant..."ya, I know what you mean" a term of agreement. The truth is, I"m only guessing based on my obsessive viewing of "The Wire", where "word" and "true dat" and "mothaf***er" are mumbled every 10 seconds or so.

"Oh, god am I totally old that I don't know what this means?" she texted. "What's worse, is he's my age!" I mentioned this to M and he said "Word, bullshit, that's not a slang". For the record, so all of us over 40 can keep up, here is the official "googled" definition of WORD


Word: It is short for saying "you have my word". Instead of saying "you have my word" you simply say "word."
For example: "I did not check out that girl. You have my word." instead you would say, "I did not check out that girl. Word."

It is the absolute truth, the authoritative word. "What you are saying is absolutely true."

My First Best Friend

This week I received a Facebook 'friend' request from a girl who was my absolute bestest friend in grade school. Her initial message was really an inquiry....asking my maiden name, did I go to St. B's, etc... I was so excited to hear from her that I immediately responded with a lengthy, two paragraph email, giving her the highlights of my life. (As if you can do that in two paragraphs and email emoticons.)

We enjoyed years of young girl best friendness: sleep overs, passing notes, prank calls, imitating Ann & Nancy Wilson (you know, the band Heart), Disco roller skating, swooning over the Bay City Rollers and writing screenplays with 70s celebs like John Travolta and Leif Garrett. As we grew older, our friendship was occasionally challenged: she made out with a guy I had a crush on for over a year, but it turned out OK since I got together with a guy I had a crush on during the years before that. (Ahem, small school, you couldn't be too choosy)

We broke off our friendship in ninth grade, she stayed on the straight and narrow and I became a party girl (not necessarily a good thing). When I think back now to our last fight, I can't even remember the details of what happened. I only remember her pain, yelling how much she had trusted me, and my adolescent way of shrugging it off while dying inside. I almost want to ask her what she remembers...but I'm chicken, since I was probably a total jerk.

We'll see what happens, she's already responded back to me,and I know I'll send her at least another paragraph or two. It's refreshing to actually get a meaningful email from someone on Facebook. And who knows? Maybe I'll even get the courage to ask her why we broke up, and maybe I'll share it, maybe not. ;-)

Moonlight Once More

I didn't exactly hate this tree, but I began resenting it...a lot. It blocked the sun in the morning, in the afternoon and even the moonlight. I would spend the day at work, anxious to come home and enjoy the sun, only to wind up freezing in our backyard. (Where we live, there are only a handful of days where shade feels good.) At first, M. & I talked about limbing it up, we didn't want to be rash and cut it down. But day after day, I watched the tree, it's long limbs reaching over our roof, stretching to the fenceline while our yard stayed deep in it's shadow. The idea grew in my mind...silently, guiltily. When a friend doing a backyard design for us asked, "How attached are you to that tree?", I nearly kissed him. So as the day approached, I felt some guilt, but I was excited. Finally, some sun! But I never expected it to be such a carnage. I have to admit, as I watched the poor tree denuded and it's limbs fed into the grinding maw of the chipper I wondered if we made the right decision.



Unfortunately, I wasn't able to see the kids’ reaction when they came home, but M. did. They were shocked and upset. They wondered why the 'tree broke'. So, in the tradition of parenthood, I made up a story about how the tree was old so we had to take it down. Then I told them about all the flowers and veggies we'll grow in our garden next year while I watched the twilight moon rise through the window. It's so nice to have moonlight again.

Transition to Normal

8:59 p.m. Six minutes since I left my kids room and Bear is still crying. Ugh. I shouldn't even be posting right now. I really need to be ordering electricity for our booth at an upcoming trade show next week. But here I am.

9:08 p.m. Went up, soothed him, but now he's at it again.

We've had three weeks of houseguests, beloved houseguests, but nonetheless we're feeling the transition back to our regular routine. We've all gotten used to staying up & sleeping a bit later, but now it's back to work. Our ten year old granddaughter came up, so I was able to hear the newest Black Eyed Peas cd (20 times), see the third Twilight movie, Eclipse at the drive in, hear all about Jacob (lovesick werewolf in aforementioned vampire movie) and see way too much of the Disney channel (the scariest of all). M & I also enjoyed the wonderful treat of spending four days together alone at the ocean, thanks to my sister, who watched the kids for us. It's amazing how much your kids change just after four days. Bear is talking in sentences, and can add a forlorn "Mommmmmmyyyyyy" to his cries, like right now. Boo has increased her already large vocab by giving answers like "of course" and "not quite yet, Mommy".

9:30 p.m. OK, I went up again, calmed him down by standing at the door for a few minutes. I hate hearing him cry.

Summer is winding down so quickly, I suppose it's so much more bittersweet since the real summer heat is just starting to kick in. If we're lucky it will last for a few days. As much as I hate to admit it, I'm rather excited for Fall. The kids will attend a brand new Montessori school (started by our wonderful caregiver)and we'll have a whole new schedule. If only the summer weather would stay for a bit longer, and my son would stop crying.

9:39 p.m. It's finally quiet. Whew.

Some Days, You Just Need a Tutu

Hi!

A few days ago, M & I were at the playground with the kids, when Bear walked up to a big boy of five and said his usual "Hi". Bear's not shy at all, he loves to walk up to groups of kids, no matter what age and greet them, but this boy was having none of it.

"DON'T say hi to me!!", he yelled in Bear's face.

M & I glanced at each other but purposedly kept quiet, waiting to see what Bear would do. Bear grew quiet, lowered his head towards the ground and his bottom lip grew larger & larger. Suddenly I was aware of how much we can't protect them, how much they'll have to learn on their own, when he let out a shriek and smile. About twenty feet away, an even bigger boy of ten, did a stunt jump off the swing, much to Bear's delight. We went on to have a great play session, the earlier episode totally forgotten. A great lesson on being in the moment and not to dwell on things.

Choices

Hmmm, should I wash the dishes, or have a bowl of ice cream? It's not a ton of dishes, and I will do them in the morning...Down guilt, down! Ok, that's much better, now where was I? Wow, crushed Oreo's are really good on vanilla ice cream! Sorry, I'm getting distracted.

I enjoyed dinner last Friday with three friends from high school, it's so nice to NOT be the oldest person at the table! We've done this once or twice a year for the past five years or so and I've noticed how our conversations have evolved. We spend about 5 minutes reminiscing about high school, and now words like 'menopause', 'liposuction', 'botox' & 'spanx' are thrown in between sips of wine and bites of salad & fish. Interspersed with debates on the merits of Facebook, and whose friend requests we're ignoring. We're all at different stages in our life...two of us have grown children, one has just become a grandma, one has a five year old adopted child, and there's me, toddler twin mom. Maybe this is a sign of the times, but I can't help but think that fifty years ago, we would not have had the freedom in our lives to be at such different places. It's great to be in a place where we have so many choices.