Beat the Clock

Freestone says I'm the worst mom in the world.  Like, the WORST.  It's because I make him practice.  Well, if he would just do it cheerfully, it would take 20 minutes of his day, tops.  But since he complains about it, it takes his WHOLE day.  That's the problem, not the fact that I could get a job as the Wicked Witch's private tutor.

I like practicing with Freestone, except when he tries to break his violin.  I tell him, "I can fix that, and then you'll have to pay me for the repair and still have to practice."  It's sad that something I like so much is such torture for my son.  In my book, it's not IF you practice.  You're going to practice.  I just want it to be a good experience, or what's the point?  If it's a miserable experience, Freestone is probably right to some extent.  It's my fault.  So I came up with another new plan.  It's called Beat the Clock.  The way it works is, at the same time as I say, "It's time to practice," I set the timer for 20 minutes.  If Freestone gets through his whole list before the timer goes off, he gets a point.  If not, he still has to finish the list but doesn't get a point.  If he gets five points in a week, I take him to get ice cream.  The key here is that the time it takes to start practicing is included in the 20 minutes, since the hardest part is actually getting the thing under your chin.

When I proposed this plan to Freestone, he said, "I don't believe you."  Ouch.  He's right, I have reneged on practicing promises before, by not paying up.  Bribery gets expensive!  I think I owe Freestone about a thousand dollars at this point.  Due to my word being worthless, we both signed a contract.  Freestone's signature has drops of something falling on it.  I was afraid they represented practicing tears, but he told me they are raindrops and the letter F is an umbrella.

So far, beat the clock has worked brilliantly.  Freestone is realizing how little time his practicing actually takes, and it's more fun when I don't get mad about all the dilly-dallying.  The glitch came this morning on the way to lessons.  Free said, "I'm going to forfeit all my ice cream and save my points to buy a Minecraft game."  See, this is how I go broke.  It's going to take him a long time to get that many points, and then we won't have time to go to the Minecraft store and it will be another failed experiment.  It's Freestone's fault!  Why can't the kid be happy with an ice cream cone?  He drives a hard bargain, this kid!  If an 89 cent ice cream cone takes five points to earn, how many points do we need to buy a Minecraft game?  Scott?  Anyone?  How much do they cost?  What are they?  He already plays Minecraft on his Kindle, but he says he needs it for another device.

Oh Freestone, why can't you speak my language?  This morning when I asked Free is he had any more homework, he uttered a phrase I have never considered: "I just have one really easy math worksheet."  In my world, the words "really easy" have never even met the words "math worksheet."  Yeah, there is definitely a language barrier between us.  That's part of the reason our violin relationship is so precious to me.  It's common ground, and I don't want to scorch the earth it's built on.  Someday, if we get this thing right, Freestone will play his violin for fun, and I will understand the difference between a PS3 and a playstation.  Oh, wait.  Aren't they the same thing?  Then what's the other thing?  Free and I both still have things to learn.  Good thing there's still time on the clock.

Miami Nice

The second attempt at take-off was uneventful, that is to say, a success!  I had to laugh, though, when it was snowing in Washington, D.C. during our lay-over.  When does snow ever stick in D.C.?  We had to be de-iced!  The winter weather would NOT let us out of its clutches.  Once we touched down in Florida, however, winter was no match for clear skies and 75 degrees.  Aunt Tricia picked us up at the airport and took us to her oceanfront condo. 

Tricia's place is fabulous!  Imagine waking up to this every morning.  As soon as we arrived, we put Tizzy down and Tricia shooed Ruby and me out the door, encouraging us to go out on the town and not to come back until the wee hours.  Twist my arm!  A night out on the town with Ruby?!  And thus began the first night of birthday celebration!

Ruby and I went to a Greek place up the road, right on the water.  We sat outside and had a view of the Intracoastal, the waterway that's lined with multi-million-dollar homes and dotted with yachts.  We dined on stuffed eggplant, lamb and possibly the best calamari we had ever had.  Despite the fact that the waitress and I could not convince Ruby to get up and dance on the tables with our more inebriated fellow diners, the dinner was a success.

I have to give a shout-out to Tricia.  She was the perfect embodiment of "Mi casa es su casa."  Her condo was waiting for us as if it were made especially to welcome us.  There was food in the fridge, treats, clean sheets and towels and keys to the car, pool and beach.  We were in heaven.  It was fun to hang out with Tricia.  She is always up for a laugh and some fun.  We had a great time!  Thanks for everything, Tricia! 

My primary goals for our time away from Antarctica were 1. To park myself at the beach and 2. To drive to the Keys.  We accomplished both, which is not as easy as it sounds!  Relaxation does not come naturally to some people!  Of course, my overriding goal was to do just what Ruby wanted to do, even if it didn't match my desires.  Fortunately, the beach was as much a draw for her as it was for me.

We were up bright and early on Saturday, in time to see the sunrise over the ocean. OK, so we're not entirely relaxed if we get up at 6, but you can't relax all day if you don't start early.  Besides, it was RUBY'S BIRTHDAY!  There was a Canadian festival going on at Tricia's local boardwalk, so we strolled along the beach, where the street fair was set up.  There is quite a confluence of languages in the area, mostly Russian, French and New Yorkish.  :)

My cousin Sarah dropped off Alex and Lincoln to play at the beach with us.  They are darling!  Sweet and fun, happy and delightful.  We loved playing with them, especially Tizzy.  I could tell she really missed her brothers and sister, because whenever she saw children, she tried to get their attention by laughing and straining toward them.  She loved Alex and Lincoln!

As much as I would have LOVED to have Scott and the rest of the kids with us, it's  ablessing to be able to spend time with just a couple of kids at once.  Trips always come with realizations, and I realized this time around that I never lose my patience when I only have two kids with me.  Sad, huh?  Trips are great for seeing your children for who they truly are, away from everyday pressures.  And they're generally nicer people too, when their pressures are removed.  I made a commitment to restrain myself more in everyday life, to practice patience and to not let free-floating anxiety interfere with the way I strive to interact with my husband, children and everyone around me.  I wonder if I can be my beach self in a blizzard?  I'm going to try!

This beautiful little thing is a darn good traveler.  She is great on the plane, goes with the flow and is generally just happy.  EXCEPT one time in the car, Tricia was sitting with her in the backseat, and Tizzy just flipped out.  There was weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth.  She was so irate, she clawed her way out of the carseat and was standing up in it, shaking the handle.  Ruby jumped in the back, pried Tizzy's little fists off the carseat and held her until we got home.  I suspect she thinks it's undignified to be constrained by a carseat instead of just a seatbelt like everyone else.  And rear-facing, no less.  If there is one thing Tziporah can't handle, it's boredom.  She likes to be on the go, facing forward and grabbing life by the horns.  Or the carseat, as the case may be.

 At Sarah and Roland's house with darling Alex and Lincoln.  Alex was a great host, offering us drinks and showing us around the house, the pool and the boys' playhouse.  This was Ruby's birthday and we went out for sushi.  Hey, Ruby, we should have sung Happy Birthday!  Oh well, there were so many celebrations, we kinda forgot.

Sunday found us headed south at 7 am, toward the Florida Keys.  We got an early enough start that we had time to mosey, stopping at numberless tourist shops, flea markets and roadside attractions.  In Islamorada, we found just the type of restaurant I was looking for, a fish place right on the water.  It turned out to be the same place my dad and I lunched at five years ago.  Ironically, we had hamburgers, but they were gourmet!

This pelican had a fish stuck in its gullet and could not get it down.  Other birds would glide over to it, and we were making up bird dialog.  "Dude, what's the deal?  You can't swallow the fish sideways!  Dude, what's wrong with you?"  Poor bird...if survival of the fittest rules the Keys, this pelican is doomed.

And back to the beach.  Aaaaaaah!  Did I mention it was 80 degrees?

 Pure bliss.  Notice the band-aid on my elbow from slipping on the ice at home...twice!  Three-foot long icicles and snow up to my waist was a distant memory at this point.  In fact, winter seemed like quite a quaint and impossible notion as we let the sound of the waves overtake us.

 Ruby, practicing for motherhood with a book, a beach and a baby.

All good things must come to an end, and winter, it turns out, still existed in reality, not just in my distant memory.  We left Florida at 6 am, 75 degrees, and arrived in Salt Lake at noon, 19 degrees and snowing sideways.  Reentry was just as difficult as leaving, with the northbound freeway entrance closed to us and icy conditions everywhere.  It took my dad an hour to get us home.  Welcome back!  As delightful as the weather is in Miami, I am happy to be here at home with my little brood of penguins and my happy little igloo.  Now the crash of the surf is but a memory, but one I hold close to my heart, where the snow can't get to it, and where it can keep me warm until spring.

It's All Good

Every thirty years or so, Utah experiences freezing rain, where everything is covered in a thick layer of pure, treacherous ice.

Every, oh, NEVER or so, Scott and I plan a surprise trip to Miami for Ruby's birthday.

Today, those two rare events converged.  Little did I know when I was making final, secretive preparations yesterday, that our plans would be wildly altered in just a few short hours. I had clandestinely taught Ruby's violin lessons, arranged rides and babysitting, gotten a ballet sub, told Ruby lies and packed without anyone noticing.  We managed to keep it a secret right up to the last minute!  Everything was falling into place!  Except that our windshield was covered in a sheet of ice as we drove to the junior high to pick up Ruby.  But whatever.  It's Utah.

Letting Ruby in on our fabulous secret was worth all the waiting and secret-keeping.  Scott and I were dying to break the news and see her reaction.  She was in shock!

We gave her ten minutes to grab anything I hadn't thought to pack, and we pulled out of our driveway.  We were on our way to the airport, to Miami, and out of this icy winter!  Our exhilaration lasted approximately until we got to the mailbox.  So ten feet.  That's when the car wouldn't go any further on the ice sheet of a road.  Scott tried...and tried.  Apparently, his car does not come with the optional ice skate feature it would have required to get out of our cul-de-sac.  So, it's 80 degrees in Miami and we can't get out of our driveway.

Coco to the rescue.  My mom hates to drive in bad weather, but Josh got her Jeep to the top of her driveway and she inched her way to our street to rescue us.  She gave us her Jeep, but it was so icy that she had to literally crawl home.  We couldn't drive her for fear the car would slide into a snowbank.  We were already on a salted road, so we took off, leaving Coco on her hands and knees, covering ground an inch at a time.  She saw one of her cats slide all the way down her driveway on its belly, legs splayed out in surprise. 

We were ALL surprised.  We don't have ice storms in Utah!  Except when we do.

After a slow, slippery drive, Scott dropped us off at the airport;  Ruby, Tziporah and me.  He drove away.  We found out our flight was cancelled and the airport was closed.  Angels must have been ice skating alongside us, because we got a nice, smart, competent, wonderful ticket agent who found us seats on a flight out tomorrow morning and was even able to push back our return date by a day for us.  She was so good at her job that she even printed us some bogus boarding passes so we could go through security and get a treat while we waited for Scott.  Can you believe we dragged a baby and all her gear through security just so we could get a cashew cluster at Rocky Mountain Chocolate?  You know it!

It was surreal for Ruby to have been pulled out of school at 9:30 am for "lunch with her dad," then be told she was going to Florida, then spend two hours driving to the airport and back home.  Happy birthday!  Surprise!!

We just had one more leg of our journey.  Scott came back to get us and dropped us off at his office so my dad could take us home while he tried to make court in time.  Dad not only got us home safely, he walked (slid on two feet) to Arctic Circle to get us some lunch.  Safely home, we suddenly had a whole day free and clear, all obligations obliterated.  Golda was home not feeling well, so we caught up on American Idol from inside of our own frozen pond until the little kids slid home from school.

It was such a unique, crazy day, the kind that comes along about as often as freezing rain.  Although momentarily disappointed, we were safe.  No white knuckles, no long hours stuck at the airport, no time spent sitting on icy runways with feelings of dread and a restless baby.  I mean, how much better could it have turned out?  We had a wonderful day.

And, barring a plague of locusts, we're going to Miami tomorrow!

Be My Valentine

 Freestone set up a photo shoot and asked me to help him take pictures of his baby sister.  Freestone is a tender-hearted boy who loves babies.  The trip we took in the fall with just Freestone and Tziporah solidified his feelings of affection toward her.  Tziporah loves Freestone, too.  They will always have each other, even when and if Freestone's dream of having ten children of his own comes true.  Maybe Aunt Tziporah will be their favorite!  I don't know, though; there will be a lot of aunts, and they're all wonderful girls.  Everyone wants Tizzy for their valentine, but it looks like her big brother has stolen her heart.

We always knew for certain that Freestone was going to be in our family, from before Golda was even born.  And Tizzy, well, she was here before she was here.  I felt her close by.  She is a strong and noble spirit.  I'm so glad she is here in the flesh, our sweet little valentine.  

Why is there a shadow of E.T. on the wall?