Second Blooming

Spin Cycle: Camp Mama 2012

Well, another summer has come to a close here at Camp Mama, and I, the Camp Director, deem it a very successful season.

We did not complete all of the activities we had hoped to, but we did complete many. And we managed to work in quite a few activities that we hadn't planned on, so...hurray.

We slept late every day. Which was a very good thing. And by "we", I mean "me". Jude got up at the crack of dawn to play Minecraft, while I lazed around and drank coffee while diddling on the computer. I don't think I can even count how many mornings Jude reminded me at about 11 am that I still hadn't made him breakfast. Bad Mama! He did, however, survive this neglect.

We were in the sunny outdoors a LOT. Beach, pools, water parks. All good. We played tennis. We ran. We camped. We kayaked.  Jude and I both have tans! Amazing, but true.

So in summation, here is what I believe I have learned over the summer of Camp Mama...

1. Next year, when we go camping with girls, I must be more attentive in monitoring Jude's interest in "inviting girls into the tent", "trying to play spin the bottle" and "playing truth or dare" instead of just drinking with the ladies by the campfire. Nothing got too crazy this year, but it's just going to get worse, and next year actual contact with the girls might be attempted. Very frightening.
2. Next year, when signing the boy up for camps, I MUST REMEMBER to call other moms and get them to sign their kids up for the same camps. The UCLA Track Camp would have been SO much more fun for Jude if I'd just coordinated it with other moms at the beginning of the summer, and he had had a buddy with him. Plus, that way we could have CARPOOLED, which would have saved me a lot of endless driving. Somebody please remind me of this in the future.
3. I can wear a bikini, and no one will point and jeer at me. Next year, I'm going to start wearing it right at the beginning of the summer, so by the end, my big, squishy belly will be big, squishy and tanned.
4. The longer, 3 week visit to the in-laws is better. Yes, I actually just said that in writing. That extra week made the whole trip SO much more relaxed, because we had time to do all the things we wanted to do. It's worth the insanity.
5. It is absolutely ridiculous for me to attempt any kind of home improvement project while Jude is home from school. It's impossible. I must remember this. The kitchen is still the same ugly color, and the backyard is still a disgusting wreck.
6. It is really not a good idea to allow Jude to completely forget how to multiply/divide and write cursive over the summer. Like I did this year.

So there it is. Summer is over. Thank goodness. Jude is back in school - Fourth Grade...

Which is seriously big and grown up and...eeeeeeeek! Today Fourth Grade, tomorrow college, marriage, grandbabies...! Boohooohoooo!

Sorry, I had a hormonal moment. I'll try to get it together before Camp Mama 2013.

_____________________________________

Don't forget to visit our other Spinners and find out how they spent their summer vacations! Much fun was had by all!

Kendra at Life in the slow lane

Aimee at AimeeWrites

Vandy J at The Testosterone Three and Me

Nain at View From Down Here - NEW on FRIDAY!

Ginny Marie at Lemon Drop Pie - NEW on FRIDAY!

Sheri at Sheri's Scribbles - NEW on SATURDAY!!

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Next week on The Spin Cycle...

Education

It's back to school time for most kids, so I thought it might be a good time to consider a little learnin'. Your education? Your kids' education? Advanced education? Self-education? Sex education?

What have you learned? What do you wish you had learned? What do you wish your children would learn? What do you wish they HADN'T learned?

I feel certain that MANY of you have MANY opinions on this subject. What do you think of the state of education in America?

Write it up. Let me know. I'll link it here.

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Camp Mama 2012 Week Eleven: Reentry

Sometimes, I am just as dumb as a stump.

Jude and I got back to Los Angeles from New York on Tuesday night at 10 pm, exhausted and jet lagged. Wednesday morning, we woke up ridiculously early because we were still on New York time.

So what did I decide to do that day? Rest and regroup? Unpack and do laundry?

No. We went to another waterpark! Another huge group of parents/kids were heading up to Ojai, CA to the little waterpark there, and we just couldn't resist joining. It ended up being 7 grown ups and...prepare yourself...20 children! Crazy. By the time we got on the road for the 1 1/2 hour drive back to LA, it was about 6:30 pm. I was so unbelievably tired that I kept pinching myself on the leg to keep from falling asleep at the wheel because I was still on New York time. Stupid.

Thursday ended up being the regroup/laundry day. Finally. Though there was no much-needed rest. The house was a disaster. Well, Jimmy wouldn't like me telling you that, but it's the truth. The man had managed to keep the place relatively tidy, but hadn't done one bit of sweeping/dusting/deep cleaning/vacuuming. It was one big dust bunny. And we had ZERO food in the house. I have no idea how the man fed himself for the two weeks he was here without us. I'm horrified to see the Visa bill - I suspect he ate out every meal. Ergh!

On Friday, I took Jude plus his friends AJ and George to Santa Monica for Beach Friday. You know, it's really a good thing that I only have one child, because I am just not cut out for a herd. The noise level in the car was at airplane decibels. I don't know how you moms of many handle it. I kept praying for a Cone of Silence or something. And how do you keep track of all of them? When we got to the beach, I sat all three of them down and gave them three rules -

1. DO NOT let me lose you!
2. DO NOT whine!
3. Memorize and use the following sentence "My goodness, Mrs. D, you certainly look young and thin in your bikini!"

They followed my rules very well, and so all was well.

On Saturday, I was absolutely fried. I'm just having the hardest time getting on CA time. I'm exhausted all the time. And on Saturday night, I had to go to a birthday party at a super hip and cool Hollywood bar. I'm just too old and tired for this kind of stuff, and seriously, if I'm going to be hanging out with a group of women, I want to be some place where we can talk and gossip. But it was a really cool bar - La Descarga. It's a Cuban-style speakeasy - an unmarked door, a doorman who won't let you in unless your name is on the list, a walk up a long, sleazy stairway, then admission through the back of a hidden armoire. Very fun. Once you get inside the place, there are mojitos galore and an hourly burlesque show!

All of which would have been extremely fun if I hadn't been about to fall over with exhaustion.

Then last night, I was supposed to have my writer's group meeting, which I'd been looking forward to for weeks. At 9:20 pm, I was undressing to climb into a nice hot bath, when suddenly I remembered about my meeting, which I should have been at at 6:30! I rushed around the house, wearing nothing but a bra, found my phone with numerous texts and phone messages asking where the hell I was, I yanked my clothes back on and drove over there like a madwoman.

So clearly, this reentry thing isn't going well.

Okay, I just reread this post, and it's boring and whiny as hell. Sorry. Hopefully, this next week will be a little more relaxing as Jude starts 4th Grade on Wednesday.

Hit it...

 

Hope your summer is wrapping up well. I think that my Spin Cycle this Friday will be a Camp Mama Season Finale.

Until then, I think I'm gonna try to get some sleep.

Camp Mama 2012 Week Ten: Old

I'm worried about the old ones.

Mommy, Pop and Aunt Grace are all over 80 now, and I'm afraid that they are all finally showing it. They still look good...

 

Mommy and Aunt Grace - looking fabulous at Mommy's 83rd Birthday dinner.

Pop - still rocking the colorful pocket handkerchief

 

But to look good isn't really to feel good.

It absolutely breaks my heart. They've been such a constant source of love and support for me for so long. It just kills me that they are each slipping into old age in their own way. And it's happened so quickly. In the last year, the changes are drastic.

For Pop, it's the physical. He's always been as strong as a bull. Really truly. In his youth, he was not only a minor league baseball player, playing on a Yankee's farm team, but he was a Golden Gloves boxer they called "White Lightning". He fought in the Korean War. He owned and managed his own book distribution warehouse for 40 years, getting up at 4:30 in the morning and heading down to that warehouse. He only retired a few years ago at 80! But now his body is failing him. While he was always a mass of aches and pains, it never got in his way. He was always on the go. But now he just can't do it. His mind and spirit are still as fiery as ever, but his body can't keep up.

For Aunt Grace, it's the mind. I am SO scared for her. In the last year, she has been forgetting more and more. Now, I find myself telling her the same thing four times in an hour, and she still can't retain it. Sometimes she's absolutely normal and extremely sharp, watching her CNBC financial news and obsessing over the stock market, but other times, especially late at night or early in the morning...or if she's had a martini...she just isn't herself. I worry about her in Manhattan all by herself. While she's still very physically active, and in truly excellent health, I fear that she'll be walking someplace and forget where she is and get afraid. Or forget to turn the gas off on the stove or something like that. And we're all afraid to talk to her about it because she's so stinking stubborn and independent. Breaks my heart.

And Mommy? Well, Mommy is still Mommy, thank God. But her fears and worries are getting worse, if that's possible. I mean, we actually had to lie to her TWICE this trip about where we were going, so she wouldn't have a freak out. When we got back from kayaking the other day (which was super fun, btw) and confessed to her where we'd been, she STILL had to take some medicinal blackberry brandy over what COULD have happened but didn't. "In a boat?! On the water?!" Sheesh.

And physically, her arthritis is getting really crippling. Saturday was her 83rd birthday, and as a special treat for her, I scrubbed the bathroom. Odd birthday gift, I know. But this woman is truly, the CLEANEST person in the world (second only to Aunt Grace, but don't tell her I said that), a woman who has always had everything in it's place and every inch of her house cleaned and scrubbed and perfect. But I'm afraid that the bathroom had devolved quite a bit. I guess she just can't see the dirt, and can't get down on her hands and knees and scrub properly. I had thought she might tell me not to do it, but she gave in immediately, which tells me just how hard it must be for her. She was so excited over how nice the bathroom was after I cleaned it that she called the Cathys (all of Mommy's friends are named Cathy) and told them about it "I can see my reflection in the tub!!!".

And the saddest thing of all? Many times I've mentioned Mommy's penchant for what she calls "that slutty look" and all of the "slutty tank tops" I've given her over the years. Well, she has finally, at age 83, decided that her arms just aren't what they used to be, and she needed to start wearing tops that cover her upper arms. So for another birthday gift, I found a couple of slutty tops that had 3/4 sleeves.

I am suddenly faced with the possibility of losing them. And I guess it's making me particularly aware of how lucky I am to have them.

My own parents died when I was still so young. Jude never met my Mama or my Daddy. But these people have embraced me as a daughter-in-law so completely. I am absolutely blessed. And you couldn't ask for better in-laws. They never question or try to control me. They are genuinely filled with unconditional love for me, which I realize is very rare.

And Jude adores them. Absolutely adores them. Even though they are on the opposite side of the country from us, he thinks of them all daily. And I thank God that he has these wonderful old people who worship the very ground the child walks on. For these last three weeks here in New York, he's been giving and accepting as many hugs and kisses as he can.

 

Mommy giving Jude "a million kisses". Please note Mommy's rollers, Grace ironing in the den, and the poetic placement of the heart-shaped wall decoration.

 

People think I'm crazy to spend 3 weeks of Camp Mama in New York with the geriatric crowd. Well, all of this is why we're here. I want Jude to get as much time with them as he can before they go.

So when I whine and gripe about how nutty they are, and please know how much I adore them. And feel free to remind me of how lucky I am.

Camp Mama 2012 Week Nine: Cycloned

I'm a little worried that Jude is such a believable and enthusiastic liar.

After many years of talk, Jimmy and I finally decided it was high time that Jude experienced Coney Island. For years and years, Jimmy has entertained the kid with his many childhood Coney Island adventures, and Jude was dying to experience it himself.

When Jimmy was a kid, a trip from his grandparents home in Brooklyn to the excitement of Coney Island was the ultimate adventure. The Cyclone roller coaster, the Steeplechase, the parachute drop - all were huge and important for him, and his tales of the place, which he's told Jude, are epic. One of Jimmy's earliest memories is of being taken by Mommy into the ladies changing room at the beach by the boardwalk there. He was about 4-years old, and was surrounded by a sea of ladies in various stages of undress. Equally titillating and scarring.

For years now, everybody's been telling us that Coney Island had gone too far downhill to visit - gangs and a bad element had taken over, so we have never been for a visit. But lately, I kept hearing that they'd fixed the place up quite a bit, and it was much, much safer, so we decided to chance it.

But of course, we could not tell Mommy this. If we'd told her we were taking Jude to Coney Island, she would have spent the entire day on her knees, clasping her rosary and downing a bottle of medicinal blackberry brandy. So we told Jude that we had to lie to Grandma, and tell her we were going to the much closer and less horrifying Adventureland. We explained that this was not a real lie, it was simply a "little white lie" to spare Grandma unnecessarily insanity, and that we would tell her the truth as soon as we got home.

The child took to this "little white lie" thing with abandon. He proceeded to tell Grandma all of the things he most loved about Adventureland, and how much he was looking forward to the trip. Then, when Mommy turned her head, he would give me a conspiratorial wink. He was really disconcertingly believable.

So the other morning, the three of us climbed in Aunt Grace's car, and headed down the Belt Parkway  to "Adventureland".

Brooklyn, here we come...

Boardwalk

World's Greatest Hot Dogs

Wonder Wheel!

 

Tilt-A-Whirl: No one actually vomited

Spook-A-Rama

 

Up in the Wonder Wheel - Please don't tell Jimmy I showed you a picture of his hair looking like this. He's very sensitive about his hair.

 

Zoltar Speaks. Zoltar says "You are destined to be very happy indeed. You've had some trouble mostly caused by inconsideration of others. But fate will be kind to you and you can expect your life to run on a smoother pattern."

 

Holy crap. The Cyclone was THE scariest roller coaster I've EVERY ridden. Wooden, rickety. Absolutely lived up to the build-up Jimmy gave it. We loved it.

 

Ruby's Bar. Yes, we took our child to a bar. Do not judge. After The Cyclone we needed to steady our nerves. And Brooklyn Brewery Lager is damned good.

So that's it. A successful family outing to Coney Island. Jimmy reveled in taking his son to a place that meant so much to him as a child. We bought Jude a Cyclone t-shirt, which he wore into the house when we got back, thus revealing the true nature of our trip to "Adventureland".

Everyone in the family was incredibly glad that we had lied to them, and spared Mommy all that medicinal blackberry brandy and Pop the headache of listening to her panic for 5 hours.

Camp Mama 2012 Week Eight: Visitors to the East

Greetings from the Land of Mommy and Pop!

Yes, I have once again foolishly decided to spend three weeks in New York with Jimmy's family. This time, Jimmy is actually along for the ride for the first week, at which time he will flee back to the safety of California, and Jude and I will stay on for two more weeks with HIS family.

Why am I able to visit his family for far longer than he can? Because as the old joke goes, your family pushes your buttons, because they installed them. And luckily, Jimmy's family didn't install my buttons, though they have discovered a few of them over the years.

For those of you new to Second Blooming, you might want to catch up on why I agree to this insanity every year, and just who the hell these in-laws are, I highly suggest you read Dramatis Personae (which explains the cast of characters), A Family Drama (which tells of Pop's 20 year hiatus from Mommy - a juicy story!) and definitely at least one of these stories about my amazing, eccentric, beloved mother-in-law, Mommy - Beauty Tips From Mommy (amazing but true), RTT: The Mommy Edition (random Mommyness) and 5 Christmas Tips From Mommy (Mommy's guide to the holidays).

Our first few days here have been devoted almost entirely to the prep and production of my brother-in-law Tony's book signing for his children's book I Once Met a Monster on My Way to School! (which you can buy through the Amazon widget on my sidebar - and please do!). We deliberately planned our trip so we could be here for the signing, as Tony modeled the character of the boy in the book after Jude, and he wanted Jude to help him read aloud from the book. This, by the way, explains my absence from BlogHer!

And somehow, my poor sister-in-law, the amazing Niki, got rooked into hosting a huge post-signing gathering at their house, despite the fact that she not only works a full-time job, but is also in college!  Tony had invited 50+ relatives and old friends, and it really was a wonderful opportunity to get the whole group together.  So, needless to say, Niki needed a little help.

As per usual with the family, a startling number of crises (please read Crisis Du Jour) happened at the last minute, not the least of which was that Niki and Tony's air conditioner conked out, and Tony had to rush out and buy a new one, which I had to install. In our family, Niki and I are the only ones with ANY mechanical abilities, and are thus expected to perform any kind of installing/repairing/putting-together that arises.

Niki spent the entire day Friday running around from store to store buying everything for the party, and she asked if I could help her with a few things to get the place set up while she was busy, and I, of course, said sure. But then, while Tony was driving us over to their house, I asked "So, what do you need me to help with?" To which Tony replied "We need to install a new air conditioner." To which I asked "And by 'we' you mean...?" To which Tony replied "By 'we' I mean...you." Ah!

And so, the first day of my "vacation", was spent sweating through my clothes (oh dear God, it's hot and humid here - really - unstinking believably hot and humid) while I installed an air-conditioner. But you know, really, I can't complain because they would absolutely have done it for me, and...that's what family's for, isn't it? And I'm damned lucky to have a family who loves me enough to know that I'll install an air conditioner for them if they need it!

Anyway, the book signing/party was a huge success. Jude and Tony were unstinkingbelievably cute reading aloud from Tony's book together. The sound is poor here, so you'll have to really crank up the volume...

 

The turnout was huge, and the party great fun! Jude discovered cousins he'd never met...

Cousins William, Olivia and Jude

 
Here's Mommy looking fab as always in one of her slutty tank tops...

Yes it's true, she's 82!

 
I complimented Mommy on her youthful arms, and she told me about the new exercise she's added to her already 45 minute long nightly beauty regimen. It's very strange and involves "hugging the sink", and seemed very odd and complicated and I was baffled about what muscles she could possibly be working doing it, but who am I to argue with success?

Okay, we're off to swim in the neighbors pool, and then go to eat steamed clams "by the water" and other things you're supposed to do on your "vacation".

More news from the East to come!

Camp Mama 2012 Week Seven: Boldly Going

Mmmm...I did something totally stupid the other night. What can I say? I blame that third glass of wine. It was late at night. I went slightly mad. I really don't know what I was thinking...I...mmmm...heh...

Bought a bikini.

I know, I know. It was completely stupid and impulsive. And optimistic. Maybe delusional.

After I told y'all about my hideous experience swimsuit shopping, a couple of you suggested I visit Lands End, where you can order a cute suit through the internet, and try it on in the privacy of your own home, where most of us do not have a dreaded three-way mirror. So I decided to check it out.

I must admit that I went there three times before I actually had the guts (mmm...enough wine) to make a purchase. After much hemming and hawing, I brazenly pushed to Purchase button for this...

Which seemed liked a kind of a compromise - a bikini top, but a more covering, retro/Bettie Page-like bottom. Cute, right? And ON SALE.

A few days later, the UPS man rang the bell, and handed me my little Lands End box. I started to panic. I ran into the bathroom with my box and locked the door behind me, starting to mildly hyperventilate. I put the box on the bathroom counter and stared at it. What the hell was I thinking?

I finally got up the courage, opened the box, and put the thing on. The top? Fits great and actually looks pretty good. The bottom? Ugh. First of all, all that "cute", "retro" ruching makes me look like I'm wearing a giant diaper. I kind of fiddled and arranged the ruching and decided that if I stood extremely straight and slightly to the side, sucked in my stomach and held my breath, I didn't look completely grotesque.

Did I look good? Absolutely not. I look okay from the boobs up and from the legs down. But the entire mid-section is a serious problem. I mean, I've been doing my jogging, so my legs are looking fairly toned, but my middle-aged, peri-menopausal midsection is a sad sight. It's basically pasty and fleshy and not in any way sexy. Again...what the hell was I thinking?

I stared at myself for a minute. Did I dare wear this in front of other human beings? I needed a second opinion.

FADE IN:

Jude is sitting on Jimmy and Gretchen's bed, watching yet another episode of SpongeBob. Gretchen peeks only her head into the room.

GRETCHEN

Jude. Can you pause that a minute? I need your opinion.

JUDE

(pausing the tv)

Yeah?

GRETCHEN

I, uh, mmmm, uh...bought a bikini.

JUDE

(dumbfounded)

A bikini?

GRETCHEN

(sheepishly)

Yes.

JUDE

Why?

GRETCHEN

(stumped)

I don't know.

JUDE

(giggling)

But you're...you know...

GRETCHEN

Yes, I know. I'm an old Mama, not a hot young girl. Well Mister,

Mamas can wear bikinis too.

JUDE

(going along)

Okay.

GRETCHEN

So...I need you to look at me in the bikini, and tell me if I look too bad.

JUDE

Alright.

GRETCHEN

Okay. Here I come.

She takes a deep breath and steps into the room, her stomach sucked in as much as possible. She poses with one foot in front of the other and her hand on her hip. Jude stares, dumbfounded.

GRETCHEN

(her voice choked because she's holding her stomach in)

What do you think? Am I too fat?

JUDE

(stares for a beat more before realizing he's expected to answer)

Um...no. You're not fat. You just kind of...

(searching for the least offensive word)

...squishy.

GRETCHEN

(deflated...literally)

Squishy?

JUDE

(apologetic)

Yeah. Your tummy. It's kind of...a little...squishy.

(backpedaling diplomatically)

But the other parts look okay. You're not REALLY fat.

GRETCHEN

Just squishy.

JUDE

Yeah.

GRETCHEN

So...if I were to wear this bikini to the beach in front of other people,

would you be terribly embarrassed?

JUDE

(considering the question carefully)

Not...terribly embarrassed.

Gretchen nods, understanding that this is probably the best reaction she should expect, and leaves the room. Jude unpauses SpongeBob.

FADE OUT.

In the end, after some encouragement from my friend Melissa, I decided to go for it. How bad could it be? I could lie on my stomach for half the time, and flat on my back the other half, and maybe if I flipped over very quickly without bending my waste at all...okay that's silly. Would all of my Beach Friday friends point and jeer at me? That was doubtful. They might feel extremely embarrassed for me, but I doubted they would actually express that outwardly.

And I was correct. No jeering. Actually, nobody really paid much attention to my body at all. In fact, if I hadn't made such a big, silly deal about the whole thing, nobody would have said/done anything. Which I think should be a lesson to me. My insecurity is stupid because nobody cares what my big, squishy belly looks like but me.

The more troubling question is why would a 51-year old woman EVER feel the need to wear a bikini to the beach in the first place? Why did I suddenly, after a lifetime of modestly keeping my mid-section covered, decide I needed to bare it all? I don't really know. Is it some kind of bizarre mid-life crisis? Is the bikini my version of a middle-aged guy's convertible? Or is it just "Because it's there"?

But I must admit, it was very freeing. Kind of like skydiving. I jumped. I did it and I didn't die. At some point during the day, Melissa looked at me and said "You're very proud of yourself, aren't you?" And I guess I was, in a way. Not at all proud of the way I looked, but proud that I was able to put my vanity aside, and let it all hang out. Literally.

On the way home in the car, Jude suddenly said to me "You know, Mom, I never really even saw your tummy in your bikini. You were laying down all the time. So it wasn't really too embarrassing."

So there's that. Not really too embarrassing.

But I'm working on it. I have found this Dr. Oz's 7-Day Belly Workout. I'll let you know if it gets even less really too embarrassing. Please feel free to make fun of me in your comment.

Camp Mama 2012 Week Six: Running on Empty

In preparation for the London Olympic Games, which start this week, we've been running here at Second Blooming. Yes, that's right. Running. Yes, me too.

Jude had a fun and productive week at the UCLA Track and Field Camp. Every morning, for a week, I drove him all the way to stinking Westwood at 9 am, and picked him up again at 3:00. There is no fast and convenient way to get from our house to UCLA, so I basically spent 2 hours a day stuck in traffic. Every day, I tried a different way of getting there, thinking that I would eventually hit upon the perfect route, but it didn't happen. However, I think it was worth it, as the kid really did enjoy himself.

And man, did they keep these kids busy. That boy ran, ran, ran all day every day. When I picked him up on Monday, he could barely walk - he was totally beat! But he got a little stronger every day, which I guess is the point, right?

I think he would have enjoyed the camp even more if he'd had some guys he knew in there with him. He's not a particularly shy child, but he's more likely to chat up the coaches than the other kids. By the end, he had latched on to a little gang of boys, led by an older, and, according to Jude, super cool dude named Trinity. I mean, you'd pretty much have to become a super cool dude if you were named Trinity. Jude talked quite a bit about Trinity, who was apparently the fastest boy of all, and displayed tremendous prowess in both the long jump and the high jump. So when Trinity included Jude in his little group of "fast boys" Jude ended up feeling like he was something pretty special.

For my part, I have been jogging. In fact, I've been working on the Couch to 5K Program. I started Week 4 this morning, so I expect you all to stand up right now and give me a round of applause. This is not the first time I've attempted this program, but this is the first time I've gotten beyond Week 2. So I'm feeling pretty virtuous.

I attribute my enthusiasm to three things.

1. There's an app for that. Really. The coolest thing I've ever seen. It times me, tracks me on the GPS, plays music from my iTunes and has an annoyingly "trainer" who encourages me saying things like "Let's go!". It has 3 "trainers" to choose from -  Constance, the perky, helpful one, Billie, the bossy Jillian Michaels-type and Sergeant Block, the drill sergeant, who basically just yells at you. I've been using Billie, because Constance makes my teeth hurt, and Sergeant Block totally freaks me out (when it's time to start running he barks "NOW JOG!!!" and it scares the pee out of me).
   I've recently discovered that I can listen to podcasts of the NPR quiz show "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me" while I run, and so now my life is complete.
2. Jude. He's finding it very cool that Mama is running. He keeps telling people about it. Random people who do not care. It's a bit embarrassing, but sweet. The only track that his school will have in the fall is cross country, so maybe we can start running together. But if the kid insists on talking and interrupting my dorky NPR News Quiz, I'm going to have to ditch him.
3. New wheels. Remember last week, when I mentioned that I'd been wearing the same nasty old sneakers for years and years? Well, I drove myself to the Adidas Factory Store and bought myself these beauties...
   I love them deeply. And my knees are very happy. And yes, my feet are very large, do not tease.

I'm hoping that I can keep up my running thing when we go to New York in a couple of weeks. I should be able to run around at Mommy and Pop's house, despite the 90+ humidity-stricken temperatures. That might be the time to switch to Sergeant Block to get me moving.

"JOG, YOU LAZY DOGFACE!"

Camp Mama 2012 Week Five: Ingrate

I'm starting to feel unappreciated.

All this past week, Jude has been Whiny McWhinestein. Everything's a problem. Everything's boooooooooooring. Blah, blah, blah.

I have done so much to keep this child entertained this summer. I signed him up for swim team three times a week. Tennis lessons four times a week. We go to the beach every week, to all the latest movies, we run at USC. But all the child does is complain. He has decided he no longer wants to do swim team because it's too dull - all those laps. I am furious and sad.

Things came to a head this week, when I took him to buy new running shoes. A couple of weeks ago, I decided to take the money I was going to use to buy a Groupon for a two night stay in Palm Springs and instead sign Jude up for a week of Track Camp at UCLA this week. Track is his obsession, and ALL he talks about, so I figured he can't possibly be bored by THIS damnit! So since Jude's sneakers are literally disintegrating, I went ahead and bought a Groupon for an athletic shoe store, and we headed out to get him some Nikes.

But on our way, he started to grumble. Did we have to go nooooooow? Did he really need new shooooooooooes? Nya, nya, nya.

And as we pulled into the parking lot of the shoe store I finally just exploded and became...my mother.

"Oh that is just FINE, Mister! All you do is complain about every single thing I DO! And here I am, taking you to buy new shoes with a stinking GROUPON, so that YOU will have decent shoes and be able to do your best at TRACK CAMP! For which I'll be driving you to stinking WESTWOOD twice a day for a week, thank you very much. And I don't hear any kind of a 'Thank you Mama. Thank you for being so KIND and THOUGHTFUL! Thank you for wearing the SAME crummy pair of running shoes that you've had for EIGHT YEARS so that you can buy NEW shoes for me!' NOOOO! I don't hear anything like that! You just don't know how GOOD you have it!"

And then I started to cry.

Jude apologized. I apologized. We bought him a new pair of Nikes.

But I was left feeling like I was doing a poor job of parenting, and was raising a spoiled, unappreciative child, who didn't have a clue how good he had things!

A few days earlier, my friend Lynn had told me a very similar story. She and her husband were taking their girls on a trip to Vegas for a few days, and before they left, she was running around like crazy, trying to get everything ready for their trip. Her older daughter, Julianna, was in desperate need of new sneakers, so they ran into Target to pick some up. While there, her younger daughter, Isabella, who is 5, insisted that she had to have new shoes too, even though she had just been given a new pair of sneakers THE WEEK BEFORE, and had a full-on, screaming, head-banging temper tantrum right there in the Target. Lynn dissolved into a puddle of tears on the little bench, and pointed out to her child that she was wearing the same pair of Rite Aid flip flops she's had for FIVE years! Then she bought her sweet daughter the shoes.

So what is going on? Are we just doing what parents do? Sacrificing so our children can have? Are we giving them everything that our parents were unable to give us? Are we trying to make up for something our childhoods lacked? Are we giving in to them because we're all too damned tired to argue?

Or are we all raising a generation of entitled ingrates?

I seldom argued with my parents. I respected them too much. If they said no, then it was no. I was not allowed to whine and gripe and be "sassy". But this new generation of kids seems to argue with adults all the time.

The other day I had a full-on argument with Jude's BFF AJ, wherein AJ asserted that none of the Star Wars movies had ever been in the theaters on the big screen, only on DVD. Which is RIDICULOUS. I mean, the kid was talking out of his ass. But he would not listen to me, and would not backdown.

"Dude!" I said " I know what I'm talking about! I've seen them ALL in the theater! "

"No. That's not right." he says to me, smug as can be.

I swear to God! And you know what? AJ is a great kid! He really is. So are Lynn's girls. So is Jude. Do these kids just not respect us? Is this a generational problem?

Lynn and her husband made check out this Louie CK video, which is absolutely perfect and sums it up completely. Warning: Rough language...

 

As Jude and I were driving home from the shoe store, he admiring his cool new shoes that he didn't even WANT and I stewing and grumbling in the front seat, Jude suddenly asked me "Why are we not talking? We always talk."

"Well" I said "I'm still a little bit angry with you, and don't feel like talking. Why are you not talking? What are you thinking about?"

"I'm thinking about how I'm a little sad that my birthday wish hasn't come true."

"What was your birthday wish?" I asked.

"I can't tell you, or it won't come true." he answered.

"Well, maybe if you tell me, I can help you to find a way to make it come true." I said, assuming that his wish had been for some new video game, which the ungrateful child didn't deserve.

"I wished for an end to slavery in the world." Jude stated. "And there's still slavery. It makes me so sad."

Sigh...Okay, maybe he's not so selfish after all.

I starting thinking about how certainly I was ALWAYS appreciative of all the things my parents did for me...uh oh.

I was NOT appreciative. I was HORRIBLE. Mama would wear the same worn-out winter coat for year after year so I could have cute clothes. She would forego new shoes so that I could have a prom dress. And I really don't remember EVER telling her thank you. I was an INGRATE.

How many Pig Newton moments did I have with my parents that I don't remember, because I was always so sure I was superior?

 

Camp Mama 2012 Week Four: Downtown Odyssey

One of the activities on my Summer To-Do List was to visit the tallest building in Los Angeles. As many of you have heard (ad nauseum), Jude is a skyscraper enthusiast. I...am not. But it's one of those little sacrifices we mothers must make. At least that's what I tell myself every time the child drags me to the top of some towering structure or another and my legs turn to jelly and I think I might vomit.

So this week, we decided to check the US Bank Tower off the list, and we headed to downtown Los Angeles. People don't hear much about downtown Los Angeles. It's not the famous part of the city, not a typical tourist destination. But it's actually full of pretty cool stuff.

We decided to take the subway. Yes you read that correctly. Los Angeles has a subway. Nobody much uses it except for people who work downtown, college students, day laborers and Jude.

And we have to drive to the subway station, which I know is basically defeating the purpose of public transportation, but that's what we have to do.

We rode down to the Pershing Square station and started walking north to the US Bank Tower.

The US Bank Tower is not only the tallest building in Los Angeles, but is the tallest building west of the Mississippi River, and the tenth tallest building in the United States. So now you've learned something. Y'all might know it as the building that the aliens destroy in the movie Independence Day. It's very tall. Very, very tall. My stomach inched it's way higher into my throat as we got closer and closer.

When we reached the US Bank Tower, we found out that they don't let you go to the top! Jude was crushed. I was filled with joy and relief. The building security guard was very sweet, and saw Jude's sadness (but apparently not my elation), and suggested we go to the Observation Deck at the top of City Hall as a consolation. So off we went.

Little did I realize that City Hall wasn't exactly close. And the lengthy hike was through a not-the-best part of downtown. But we've hiked through much of New York City, so a few blocks of LA didn't daunt us.

The good news was that City Hall was a cool discovery.

Built in 1928, City Hall is best known in our family as the Daily Planet building from the old Superman tv series, which is one of Jimmy's favorite shows ever. I remember it from old Dragnet shows. Anyway, turns out there really is an observation deck at the top on the 27th floor. Not as impressive or terrifying as the 73 floors of the US Bank Tower, but tall enough to make me want to vomit. Here is Jude scaring the poo out of me...

 

Hmmm...how could I scare my mother even more?

 

Oh I know...I'll try to climb a little higher...

After I managed to drag the child away from the edge of the world, we walked north and then east, and took a ride on Angels Flight.

Angels Flight is a super cool funicular railway built in 1901. It was originally built to carry very proper Victorian ladies from their fancy homes at the top of Bunker Hill to the shopping areas at the base of the hill. Now, of course, all the Victorian homes have been replaced by office buildings, but Angels Flight has endured, and you can ride it up and down the hill for only 50 cents each way.

 

Newly restored

Cheap fun

We then made our way back across Hill Street (yes, the same street that had the blues) to Grand Central Market, the city's oldest and largest open air market, and ate an extremely greasy lunch.

We managed to make our way back to the subway station and then home. The whole adventure took about 4 hours. Which was plenty for me. Jude, however, still had a tennis lesson, for which he had plenty of energy. I guess that's what being 9 years old is all about.

I, however, had to recuperate the entire next day.

So that's your little mini-tour of downtown Los Angeles. If you ever visit the City of Angels you should check it out. And maybe you could do me a favor and take my child with you so I don't have to do it again.

What were the activities at your Camp Mama this week?

Camp Mama 2012 Week Three: Contradictions

 

This week, Camp Mama began with Cub Scout Day Camp, a week of boy activities at the headquarters of the Boy Scouts of America in Los Angeles, an organization known for their open discrimination against "open or avowed" homosexuals, and ended with...a gay wedding. Because that's the way we roll here at Second Blooming.

Jude hadn't been totally sold on attending Cub Scout Day Camp this year, as he had attended it two years ago and deemed it "boring". But their theme this year was "The Olympics", so of course my track and field/swimming obsessed child was convinced. I must admit that I pressed the matter a bit for two reasons - 1. Camp was M - F from 8:00 am to 4:00 pm! 2. All of this alone time for Mama only cost $75!

But I'm afraid Jude ended up deeply disappointed by the whole thing. The "Olympic" sports they played were baseball, soccer and basketball, which I guess are events in the Olympics, but which Jude deemed "lame". And on Friday they were scheduled to go down to the LA Colosseum, and do track events on the actual Olympic track, but they ended up not able to get in. Sigh. And they were supposed to then go swimming in the real Olympic pool from the 1984 Olympics, but the pool was closed because of a sewage leak! They did, however, get to do some events at the USC track. Jude managed to win a Gold Medal in the long jump! And a Silver Medal in the 50 meter dash. So that was some consolation.

The gay wedding, was really a Domestic Partnership Celebration (still no legal gay marriage in California, don't get me started) for my ex-choir director, Rodger, and his partner Tye.

In dealing with this whole gay marriage thing with Jude, I realized that I was perhaps a bit of a hypocrite. Despite all of my support for gay marriage and gay rights, I have never really dealt with explaining it all to Jude. I mean, he knows what gay is, that some people fall in love with, and want to spend their lives with someone of the same sex, as opposed to the way Mama and Daddy are.

And a while back we had a talk because his friends were saying things like "That is so gay!" or "He's so gay!". And we talked about how that is a wrong thing to say for several reasons. For one thing, kids at their age are too young to know whether or not they are gay (though I think that this is really the age where people start to figure it out), and that if someone is gay that it's nothing wrong, that it's just the way God made them, and that on top of everything, it is a ridiculous name to call someone because it's simply a descriptive word - it would be like saying "He is so blond!" or "He is so tall!" Which he seemed to understand. And I told him that we had lots of friends who were gay. But he never asked me who, and so I didn't tell him. I have a rule of thumb that when it comes to things about sex, I only answer the questions he wants to know the answers to.

So when this Domestic Partnership Celebration came up, I was a little unsure how to proceed. I tried to be casual...

"Jude, we've been invited to a party on Saturday which is going to be really fun! You remember Rodger, don't you?"

Of course he remembers Rodger, he's one of his very favorite people.

"Did I ever mention that Rodger is gay?"

I had not.

"Well, Rodger and his partner, Tye, have decided that they want to make a commitment to each other to stay together always and forever, just the way Mama and Daddy did!"

I then got into a brief and probably boring political lecture about the legality of gay marriage, which I will spare you all.

"And lots of the people from my choir will be there, and it will mean so much to Rodger for you to share the day with him, and Julianna and Isabella will be there, so you'll have other kids to play with! [Julianna and Isabella are the oft-mentioned daughters of my friends Lynn and Darren, mentioned at length HERE] So how does that sound to you?"

At this point, I looked at Jude, and he had a decidedly "ICK" look on his face.

"Oh no!" I thought "My child is a homophobe!"

But then Jude said "Are they going to talk the whole time?!"

He wasn't thinking "Ick" about the gay marriage, he was thinking "Ick" about hanging out with the girls all that time, and worried that they'd drive him crazy!

In fact, the entire gay marriage thing didn't phase him for an instant. Even all the traditional wedding stuff like cake cutting, and posing for sweet couple pictures. We had a great time, and he and the girls got along fabulously (I'm sorry, I had to work in the word fabulous at least once in a piece about a gay wedding). As we left, he hugged Rodger and Tye and told them "Congratulations."

So that's the week at Camp Mama. Boy Scouts of America/Gay Men. I happen to love contradictions.