Connection

I have been feeling under the weather for the last two weeks. Poor Mario begs to wrestle with me every night and I have to decline or engage in some lame, half-baked wrestling moves, which only frustrates him. I have learned it is better to just say no to his pleading. A year ago, he would have gotten mad and stormed up to his room.

But lately, he has processed the decline much more maturely. He doesn’t stomp as much. He’s willing to engage with me and consider other things to do. And if he only wants to do the activity I refuse, he lets it go more quickly and doesn’t wallow in self-pity. He has also taken on more care and concern for Jon and me. He worries that Jon is not getting enough exercise for his heart and continually lectures him about taking walks. With me, he is weirded out to see me sick and not able to jump around with him like I always do. He has taken on this matronly approach asking if I’m ok all the time. I was in a meeting the other day and he called after school. I answered the phone and spoke quietly to him to avoid interrupting the meeting. I got off the phone with him and he called back 20 seconds later. I answered again with a hushed voice as I stood to leave the room worried something was wrong. He sounded concerned as he spoke.

“Mom, I’m just calling you back because you do not sound good. I want to make sure you are ok.”

Seriously? A 10-year-old boy being so thoughtful. Maybe my expectations are way low for him but I was completely blown away by his attention. I think there were little Mario-hearts swimming around my head during the rest of my meeting.

Maria has pushed me away over the last month. She talks to Jon about updates at school or sports but rarely me. I heard from many a parent, and know from personal experience, that Ri would start to move away from me as she headed into teenage hood. It still doesn’t make it easier. I miss her asking me to watch a show or play cards. I miss her enthusiasm in trying to get Mario to play with us. Now, it’s Mario asking where Ri is and when she will be home.

On the other hand, Mario wants to do more things with me, which soothes the Maria sting a bit. He was all into Jon for a while but he has turned to me lately. I guess that’s the universe’s way of patting my head and telling me to hang in – one child drifts away but another drifts in. Ebb and flow. Mario and I have found a rhythm – we converse about basketball, school, rap music, you tube videos, and we crack each other up. I have some vivid memories over the past few weeks of us laughing until we nearly cried. He’s got my sense of humor.

I feel grateful to have that connection with Mario as my connection with Ri loosens a bit to give her the space to explore.

Doctor

I love when I come home from work and the kids don’t have anything going on for the evening. We can sit down together and eat dinner, review our days’ activities, and go out for a bike ride or a rollerskating adventure before we settle down for the night. It’s like a bright red bow on a shiny silver box. 

It never fails that the kids do something to crack us up. Thank God Jon and I have them in our lives to keep us grounded when we get stressed with work or bills or other nonsense. Last night, Maria decided to roller blade and Mario decided to bike. Mario was taking forever while Maria, Jon and I waited out front for him. We kept yelling back “Mario, what are you doing?” He’d answer “just a second, be right there” and we’d wait another minute before we yelled back to him again.

Finally he biked down the driveway with a backpack on his back. He pulled up to Maria and I, and stopped his bike.

“I made sure I had all of the things we may need during our trip.”

He began to pull out numerous items: bubble gum, washcloth, band aids, water bottle, and a knee guard. He explained his concern for Maria being on roller blades since she usually only used roller skates. He was ready to help if she fell. He really does have a heart. Maria gave him a hard Maria hug and was taken aback with his kindness in thinking about her safety. 


We started off on our two block adventure. Mario stopped every 100 feet to ask if we needed water. Maria answered affirmatively each time because she thought it was so precious. 

We were rounding the second block and heading towards home when Maria faked a fall in order to have Mario play doctor. Mario had no clue she had faked the fall so when Maria yelled out “Doctor Doctor” he came speeding on his bike from around the corner. 

“What happened Ri” he asked as he pulled out the washcloth. She described how she twisted her ankle on the rollerblade and fell onto the pavement. Mario examined her ankle and her knee. Maria confirmed that it was her knee that hurt most of all. Mario poured water on it to start off with, and then he sopped up the water with his washcloth. He poked around the kneecap and wiggled it to see if that hurt. Maria screamed in pain and then winked up st me to show me she wasn’t really hurt. Mario got out the knee brace and strapped it on to her knee. He told us that we would have to wait a few minutes to see if her pain calmed down before we moved. Maria kept looking up at me slyly and smiling. She loves this kind of play with her brother, and he rarely engages in it with her so she had to absorb every minute. After some more consoling and a full check of the limbs, I told Maria that I thought she could make it home. Mario asked her if she was sure she was ok, and after Maria saw my “you better get up” face, she knew she better confirm that she was fine.


Of course, I knew she would take the opportunity to fall at least one more time before we got home because she so loved this time with Mario. And so two driveways before our house, she fell onto the curb and acted like she hit her head. Mario again came to her rescue throwing down his helmet and his bike and tending to her ails.  After her treatment, she begged Mario to give her a hug to make her feel better. He was in rare form because he readily agreed. These are the nights I dream of.

Independence 

It has been a bit of a struggle this school year in dealing with Mario and his voracious streak of independence. Actually, let me strike the word “struggle” and change it to the word “battle.”

We never had this issue with Ri. She begged to be driven to school every day and enjoyed if Rocco and I walked with her on the other days. She had zero desire to trek 1.3 miles to school.

Since the end of last year’s school year, Mario has been pleading with us to allow him to bike or walk by himself to school. Jon and I would discuss it here or there but never arrived at a decision (yes, we are the ultimate procrastinators). Then, the school season arrived. And there stood Mario, at our sides, begging to bike by himself to school.

The bike ride is a simple one. Straight down the main strip with one small downhill at the end. There are three crossing guards spaced out at different sections of the strip. Kids are walking and biking along the strip from 7:30 until 8:15. 

But they are typically with an adult.  

“Typically with an adult.” These words scorched Mario’s ears. He did not hear anything more. Then came the persuasive arguing.

“You let me bike to the library by myself. You’ve biked with me to school and back and told me I did a great job. I am responsible and call you every time I should.” And so on and so forth…. On and on…. 

So, in a fit of whining fatigue and  unbridled trust, we let Mario bike to school two days straight. The first day, Jon followed Mario on his bike. When Mario got to the hill to go down towards school, Jon stopped him and told him he did a great job. Mario had no clue he had been following him and he broke down in tears.

“Why did you follow me, dad? I thought I rode by myself.”

Jon apologized and took off down the street. Mario thought that Jon was upset with him, so he biked towards where Jon drove. He couldn’t find Jon. One of our friends approached Mario and saw that he was sobbing. Mario called Jon from the friend’s phone and told him he was sorry for yelling at him. Jon felt horrible. He reiterated that he just wanted to see how well Mario biked to school, and he waited to give Mario a hug at the end of the hill.  The next day, we let Mario bike all by himself. He did great, policeman waved at him as he went by, and he called and said that he got home after school.

But that night I talked to my mom and a couple of girlfriends and all of them thought that having Mario bike to school at age 8 was a bad idea. I had been questioning in my own head whether I should continue to allow it. On the one hand, Mario craves independence and loves achieving physical feats. He was so excited to go to school those mornings. He felt awesome. 

On the other hand, he’s only eight. Other kids likely crave independence from their parents too, but they arent allowed to bike all the way to school. Jon and I have always given a lot of leeway in raising Ri and Mario. But what is the limit? If something happened to him on the way to school, I knew I would never forgive myself. Yes, something could happen to him when he’s in fourth grade and riding by himself but that feels different than allowing him in third grade at age 8. Besides, the fourth grade school is much closer to us. But he’s also a responsible 8 year old about to turn 9 year old. And he craves the independence so why not continue to give it a chance? It is a safe neighborhood, there are crossing guards, there are police. Parenting is ping-pong in the head. 

In the end, Jon and I pulled the plug. We sat with Mario the night before school and told him that for the time being we did not feel comfortable with him biking by himself. We discussed our concern for his safety at his age. We told him that we believed in him and we believed he was responsible but that he was just too young to go to school by himself. 

He was absolutely deflated. He cried. He gave us his case as to why he felt he was responsible and able to bike down to school. He begged for us to change our minds. It broke my heart. I was still so torn but I could not go back on my position at that point. 

The next morning, he did not want to get out of bed. He did not want to eat cereal. He did not want to go to school. I was sick to my stomach. Why had I allowed him to bike to school in the first place only to take it away. Why would I give him a tiny taste of it only to pull it back? I was beating myself up all day long.

After school that day, we allowed Mario to have a friend over to spend the night. When I got home from work after fretting all day, Mario and his friend were having a blast together. They were playing basketball and video games. Mario had nothing to say about not being able to bike to school. As it is many times with kids, the worry we put on ourselves is lost on them after a few hours. Over the weekend, at random times, Mario continued to bring up his wish to bike by himself. He made his case on how responsible he was and how he stayed on the sidewalk and how he would never let a stranger take him. We listened and continued to mull over what to do with him. My “all or nothing” personality was shining bright in my thought process. Either he can bike everyday by himself or nothing at all…either I eat an entire sleeve of cookies or none… either I win the race or don’t run at all. Maybe I needed to learn to loosen the reins of that  personality trait a bit.

On Monday morning, as I made his waffles and talked with him about his day ahead, I flexed my rigid trait and told him that we would just see how things go throughout the fall and the spring. I also told him that I had arranged for him to be able to walk with a couple of friends once or twice a week (I didn’t include the fact that I or another mom would be walking behind him).

Sure enough, this past week, he got to walk with his buddy (and yes, I walked far behind them to make sure they got to school on time). He also got dropped off  by Jon and picked up by our sitter. And he biked to school with me a couple of days. Jon and I allowed him to bike home by himself those days since our babysitter was waiting for him and she could call us to let us know he made it back to the homestead. 

And with each day, all ended up being just fine. 

Details of Daily Life

It takes gargantuan effort for me. I have a pinball personality – bouncing from one area to the other and to another. But with continued practice and mindfulness, I’m able to focus a little bit more on the small, often forgettable moments, that in the end, create a scrapbook of happy:). 

Here’s a couple of recent:

Mario and I kneeling at the open window in the dining room and listening to the rain come down against the sidewalk and plants outside. He placed his arm on my shoulders as we listened together. Then he whispered “smell the rain, mom, doesn’t it smell good?” Moments later,  lightening filled the sky and we looked at each other thrilled to have witnessed it together (one of us usually observes it and it’s gone by the time the other looks up).

Ri blowing her nose incessantly through the night. I had to sleep in her bed with her because Sarah was in town and got the “master suite.” It’s bad enough that Ri kicks and punches through the night but top it off with constant snorting and nose blowing, and you wanna go sleep on the roof. At around 2 am, I finally had heard enough. I turned to Ri and crabbilly remarked “can’t you stop sniffling and blowing your nose!” She turned towards me. I could see a quarter of her face due to the moon shining in her window. Her eyes were barely open. “I’m sorry, mom, I’m trying to be quiet.”

I leaned over and hugged her and told her I was sorry for being obnoxious (it was 2 am however so she’s lucky I hadn’t thrown in a cuss word…). I gathered her up in her blanket and held her. Then we held hands down the hall to the bathroom downstairs. I had her get in the shower with the hopes of getting rid of the pollen and ragweed in her hair. When she finished, she wrapped her hair in a towel and came into the family room. We laid on the reclining couch together: I supplied her with tissues every few minutes and rubbed her back. We both fell asleep eventually. I woke before her and got a glance of my child. It was as if I was staring at a magnificent star in the sky. When she woke I told her the lack of sleep had made me temporarily cuckoo and apologized again for being such a crab in the night. She forgave me and patted my back. She’s a keeper.

Biking to Tim Horton’s with Mario. I picked up Mario for lunch this week. We had ridden our bikes to school in the morning so that we could ride to Stauf’s for lunch. He sprang the idea of Tim Horron’s on me when I arrived. Tim Horton’s is about a mile or two away and off a fairly busy road so I was hesitant. But when am I going to forego a challenge? We hopped on our bikes and pedaled towards Goodale. We talked about super heroes and Hawaii and any other topic that landed in Mario’s head. The sky could have been out of a Renassaince painting. We reminisced about going to Tim Hotton’s when Mario was in preschool. Parking the stroller in the entrance way and getting timbits. Watching the geese in the parking lot. 

We carbo-loaded on grilled cheese, muffins and timbits. Heaven. Then we biked back to his school – him leading the way – all the while chatting about everything to come into his mind. 

Taking a walk with only Ri on Sunday afternoon. No Rocco or Mario. It’s these times that I can learn about what she’s done in school, her latest crazes, what she wants to do in the Summer. She also makes me laugh with her witty retorts and her observations. Every time I tell her that I’m gonna cherish those moments together because pretty soon she will not want to be around me, she looks at me with amazement. She swears she will always want to hang with me and her dad and Mario. I won’t fight her on that thought; I will just hope it comes true….

Biking to the river! Finally. The bike path is open and both kids can ride bikes on their own for a respectable amount of time. I couldn’t have been happier while I watched Ri and Mario ahead of me on their bikes – pointing out the river and birds to one another. 


Mario was so excited to head to our spot on the river where we throw rocks. He engaged in his usual routine of pointing out oddly shaped rocks to me and trying to pick up the heaviest ones. Ri engaged in her usual routine – finding a way to get wet. She placed herself on a rock off the shore and asked us to lob rocks near her so she could get splashed.


On the way home, I remember the peach stripes pushing through the blue and white of the sky. The kids know how I love my sunsets and before I could point the colors out, they had already turned around to let me know. 

The details of daily life.

Summer nights 

Maria and Mario chowed down their dinner on Sunday night because Jon got a text from Biscuit and Cookie’s dad that they would be over in ten minutes to ride electric scooters with Mario. Ri chimed in that she wanted to go, too, on her bike.

Mario’s response in a flirty voice: “Ri has a date with Cookie….” 

She shoved him into the table.

We told them both to be back at Cookie’s and Biscuit’s house at 8 pm because it was a school night. Last word out of their mouths “ok.”

And 8 pm came and went. Jon was trolling the streets trying to find all of them. I was walking up and down adjacent streets. We asked neighbors if they’d seen them. Now, I was not too concerned for their safety. They were together in pairs – Ri and Cookie and Mario and Biscuit. That is one beautiful thing about our neighborhood – it has sidewalks, people are out, kids are running around. But I was irritated that they hadn’t listened to us. 

Finally, I see Ri and Cookie and Lucia biking down the street laughing and having a great time.

 “We stopped by and said hi to Lucia! When we told her Cookie’s mom was making ice cream sundaes she got her bike and joined us!”

Ok, we nabbed two of them but we needed the other two rascals. It was 8:20 and nothing. Then I get a phone call. My neighbor says “I’ve got two boys – one in neon. Want me to hold them til you get here?” Little does Mario know there are eyes all over Grandview watching him. I asked my neighbor to send them to Biscuit’s house.

   When I asked where they were, Mario replied excitedly “the highway!” 

What?!

He explained that he had convinced Biscuit to go down Grandview Ave. towards Tim Horton’s and the highway to “spice up” their usual route. Jon and I had a long talk with him about staying within a two block boundary. He is quite the instigator and I would bet he’s gonna be quite our little rule breaker, too.

But we forgot all about being irritated with them once the ice cream sundaes were served.  Moose track Ice cream, chocolate chips, chocolate syrup, whipped cream. Yum! We are gonna miss these summer nights.

   
  

 

Mario time

We’ve only had Mario all week with Maria gone to camp (how is she at a six day overnight camp already?!). We promised him dinner of his choice and where do you think we went two nights? Skyline. After night two, Jon and I swore we would not head back there for at least six months. It’s so good when you’re eating it, but then….

Mario has been the BEST son this week. I wish I could say it’s just because he decided to turn over a new leaf and not argue when it’s time for bed or time to do homework. But no, it’s not that. He has been an angel child because he wants an electric scooter and he keeps hoping that if he is excellent for us, we will get him one. 

He took out the trash, got his own water, cleaned up his mess, fed Rocco, took Rocco on a walk, went straight to bed. You name it. Everything that used to be a fight or end up in whining tirades, is simple now. It really has been a beautiful yet strange week. 

He’s also been Mr. Independent wanting to ride to the library by himself and read books. Whether he does that or not, I’m not sure. But I did follow him up there one evening and couldn’t find him anywhere. Sure enough, he was in a study room reading his Wings of Dragons book. Impressive. He had his blue sports bag on the table in which he carried his book. When we left, he tossed his bag over each shoulder and hopped on his bike. He looked 13. It seems everyday he grows another inch. 

   
 

We’ve been biking together every night, which he loves. I used to refuse to bike and only walk along side of him. But I do enjoy biking with him because he loves it so much and it’s much more relaxing to be by his side and able to talk. We biked to Stauf’s last night for a bagel dinner. He beat me at Crazy Eights four times in a row and won $6 off of me. He was stoked about that. We biked home talking about that electric scooter again. 

“Mom, I’ve been so good. Don’t I deserve a scooter now?” 

I told him I was concerned about what he’d be like once we got the scooter. Would he go back to complaining at bedtime and whining about cleaning his room?

An emphatic “no” shot from his mouth as if he knew that would be my question. He shot those pacific blue eyes my way and I knew he had me. But I didn’t let him know. I just reiterated that dad and I would talk about the scooter knowing full well we would end up getting it for him as an early birthday present. How could I resist this sweet biking partner of mine?

   
 

These days.

My ideal day is waking early for a morning workout and coming home to take a walk to Stauf’s with Ri and Mario. I love it because we are all present in the moment. We notice the cardinal tucked in the mid section of a bush. We squeal at the bunny darting out of a flower bed. We touch the needles of the pine tree in the alley and I reminisce to them about when they were babies and I placed their finger on a needle and yelped “ouch” and they smiled at me in delight. 

The kids still get excited to scope out a table at the coffee shoppe. They recently added high tables and bar stools to the shoppe so I knew they’d go for those. Mario steps up on the lower rung of the chair and lifts himself into the seat. Maria gets water for us all. I order bagels and a coffee. We sit at the table and play War and crazy eights (with Grandma Menkedick’s cards from 1963). When I win at the war between Mario and me, Ri laughs because I get one of Mario’s aces out of it. Mario reluctantly hands it over. This is the one place that the both of them remain in good spirits while playing a card game – must be the chill atmosphere.

  

It takes a lot for me to relax – as Jon says “you never stop.” But I can sit in that coffee shoppe with these kids for hours and have no desire to move. There must be some relaxer drug in those bagels.

Maria’s stomach was hurting her after she finished her bagel and chai tea latte – she spent a long time in the bathroom. I went to check on her after Mario and I thought she may have passed out. There she was looking miserable and holding her tummy. My girl likes to go at it in life – no matter if it’s partying at the pool or eating a bagel smothered in cream cheese. 

So what do I have her do to recover?

Bike to the river with Mario and me. I figured she needed to move that food out of her system so she needed to move her body in order to accomplish that. It would be worse for her to go home and lay down. Right?!

So there she was biking next to me looking miserable. Mario was up ahead biking away in his own little world, loving the freedom he had. We arrived at our old stomping grounds shortly after we departed. It seemed to take such a longer time when I had them both in the double stroller (hmmm, wonder why? maybe the 100 pounds I had to push slowed me down). Ri immediately went to lay on a big rock to rest her tummy. Sweet girl.

  

Meanwhile, Mario was in heaven. He loved looking at the different rocks and throwing them in the river. As we tried to skip a few, he said to me “I remember coming here in the stroller with you and Ri and eating my timbits.” The kid doesn’t remember much so I was excited to hear that he remembered our river trips. We searched for unique rocks after Ri rested a bit. Mario would find one and run over to show Ri and me. He found one with a fossil in it that he thought was cool. They both discovered round, smooth ones that they decided to paint for Emma on her first day of babysitting them. We watched the tiny birds fly in and out of their hive nests situated in the corners of the bridge overpass. Pure delight. These are the moments to slurp up and recall when you’re having an annoying day.

   
   

Ri started to peter out on us after a while so we called it a day and headed down the bike trail to home. Ri was my trooper riding her bike with a tummy ache. She wanted Jon to pick her up badly but I told her she could make it. I’m quite sure she was cursing me in her head but she did it and with each small feat like that, I’m convinced she’s gained another layer of grit. Mario was like a teenager biking far ahead of us but stopping at every stop light and waiting for a green light. He likes that independence. 

Maria looked at me when we pulled into the driveway. “Are you proud of me, mom?” “Absolutely”, I told her. 

I walked inside the house and Mario was guzzling water. “Hey, mom”, he said flatly sounding just like a teenage boy. 

Please let me not forget these days.

Get Over It

For two days straight, I have been stressing about an email I sent to someone at work; worried that they would think it was unprofessional or that I thought they were making a poor choice. They had made a snappy comment about a situation and I added my own comment to theirs. It was nothing vulgar or demeaning – more like a written sigh of “oh, this is happening again….. If I could do it over, I wouldn’t have included the comment with the email. I try to keep emails completely professional for this reason – I know I will second guess myself over and over.

I am a pleaser.

I like to see people happy.

I remember going to a movie with my dad when I was little and feeling so happy when I heard him laugh at one of the lines. I always look around the room when we have people over to make sure they are smiling and having fun. I love when I say something to Jon and he laughs. So, there are no doubts that I’m a compulsive people pleaser. That trait is not the best to have when you work in a job that requires tough conversations and tough love.

I went to bed last night with that email on my mind. I woke up and thought about it on my jog. I tried to focus on the trees, the blossoming flowers, the squirrels dancing up the poles but that email kept butting in. After the run, Ri and I went to the river to find rocks to paint.  I tried to let go of the email but every time I found myself in a great moment with Ri, it popped up.  This lasted throughout the day

I took Ri over to her friend’s house in the late afternoon for a sleepover.  I had a few hours to myself before the boys got home.  I tried to read a magazine article, then clean, then garden. Nothing worked. That damn email kept jumping in my head.  
 
My bike.  Maybe if I just took off on my bike, I could work it out.  I typically take a walk when I have some free time but I get too tempted to read a book or check out my phone when I walk (I haven’t figured out a way to read while biking at 16 miles an hour).  I didn’t want to do that tonight. I wanted to ride along the trail with no music or distractions and figure out a way to stop the insanity.  
 
I changed up my usual route through downtown and traveled up north. Right choice. I couldn’t stop with each new mile I passed because of all of the beauty surrounding me. A worn, wooden troll bridge; fly fishermen casting their lines; pastures of wildflowers; a playground full of children; the river moving steadily over boulders; women walking with tiny babes slung across their bellies.
 
I got lost in it all while I thought about why I act the way I do, why I chose the profession that I did, where I want to be in five years, why I need to make people happy, if I turned the oven off, whether Ri was doing ok, if Jon shot a turkey….  The mind drifted from philosophical to practical.  I biked eleven miles up the trail and turned around for the ride home. It wasn’t until I hit the second to last mile near the intersection of Olentangy and Goodale Avenues that it hit me. 
 
“Get over it.” 
 
That’s it. 
 
“Get over it.”
 
My new affirmation to myself.  I know I am a caring, thoughtful, smart, empathetic person so if someone gets angry or defensive about something I say or do, I need to get over it.  I cannot worry that people may take something the wrong way or feel that I should have done or said something differently. I need to trust my intuition, trust my actions, take responsibility when I do something I look back on as not the best decision, know I am trying my hardest, and get over it.  
 
My legs may kill from cranking out 20 miles but my mind feels a lot more free and ready to think about anything other than… whatever that thing was.  

 

Spring Break 2013 – Phoenix

mariamariofamily

“The Grand Canyon is not that big.” This was Mario’s initial observation as we stared down into the vastness of the Canyon. It takes a lot to impress that kid.  Jon and I decided to pay for a four-hour tour knowing full well that we would not be able to provide the education that a guide could provide.  Maria is at the age that she slurps up all the facts and information provided by teachers so we knew she would enjoy it more.  Mario, well, we could have just led him run throughout the canyon and he would have loved life.

mariamarionutsWe had a guide named Dora who had been a park ranger for years.  Her husband is a geologist.  She focused in heavily on the trees and the berries and, of course, the rocks in the Grand Canyon.  Our first stop was at a juniper tree.  There were berries just beginning to mature on the tree and Dora plucked on off for us to try.  When you cracked open the berry, there was a tiny nut to eat.  RI and Mario were skeptical but they each asked for one to try.  Neither of them spit it out but neither of them were overwhelmed.  Then Ri looked in her berry and found something.  A worm.  Jon and I and even Dora dismissed her telling her it was just part of the berry.  But  Dora took a second look and said “you are the first person to find a worm in their berry.” Ri kept eating and was proud as can be. She also introduced us to mariamariodoraPinyon Pine and pine nuts (we all loved those), oak, and ponderosa trees (Ri loved the ponderosa pines on my behalf because “they are named after mom’s favorite restaurant!”).  Next, we learned about the different type of rock  making up the Grand Canyon. Ri asked a ton of questions and held a long conversation with Dora about the different layers.  She loved the look of the sandstone. She bought a bag of rocks to take home with her to show her class. The last adventure as a fossil find.  Mario loved it.  He would grab Dora’s hand to pull her over to a rock with a fossil to show her.  When she confirmed it was a fossil, he looked up at me with that look of self-pride and moved on to the next rock.  Jon spotted a mule deer on our way out. Maria peppered Dora with more questions ending with the ultimate one “how did we get here on this Earth?”  Our old-soul girl.  Dora loved it.

The night before we stayed at the Best Western Hotel near the park.  It had no indoor pool but it did have a hot tub, an arcade room and, strangely enough, a bowling alley. We arrived at 6 pm which is 9 pm our time so we were all exhausted. We went down for dinner to the seedy sports bars near the arcade where the waiters looked completely miserable and the clientele consisted of locals or other exhausted families. Mario had a breakdown waiting for dinner – he was so tired and irritable and saying “I hate this place!” every two seconds. Ri was completely dazed out.  The food was horrid except for Ri’s baby back ribs. Yeah, that is what she ordered at the seedy sports bar. She does know how to live it up.

By the time he hit the arcade it was close to midnight our time.  I knew when Mario put quarters into a hunting game and it didn’t work, that all hell would break loose.  Although he reacted better than I thought he would, he was still shot.  It really was time to just head upstairs and call it a day.

After the Grand Canyon, we headed back to Phoenix with Mario watching movies on the iPad and Ri talking up a storm about everything and anything.  She’d finish telling one story and there would be a pause, Jon and I would open up our mouths to say something, but then Ri would jump into another conversation.  We laughed at the difference in the two of them.  Mario could plant his nose in technology for five hours; Ri needs conversation.  Three and a half hours later, we were at Desert Ridge Marriott.  What a place!  A lot different from the cabins and tents I stayed in as a kid.  Ri and Mario have now stayed in the RItz in Naples and Desert Ridge Resort in Phoenix.  I think their significant others will be treated well when they find them years from now.

rabbitThe hotel grounds were gorgeous with a huge grassy area out back that led to the lazy river, regular pool, and fountain pool.  We were on the fifth floor and had a balcony overlooking a desert garden and a large patio for parties.  The kids loved the balcony and got an awesome surprise as they stood looking into the garden.  There were bunnies everywhere!  One hopped out of the cactus and Ri and Mario screamed for us.  Then another bunny hopped, and a baby followed.  They could not believe it.  And that became our entertainment every morning and afternoon.  One afternoon we came up to our room to take a little break in swimming and the kids sat on the balcony for over an hour acting like scientists studying the movements of the bunnies.  They got water and soap and spread it on their bodies to attract the bunnies and them got notebooks and pens to write down their observations.  Every five minutes they’d come in to give us a report.

mariamarioswimmariamarioswimphoenizThe lazy river was great because you could float in it or you could swim or walk in it.  Mario typically chose to swim, I walked, Jon floated, and Ri did a combo (she always had a tube in hand but would switch between floating and walking with it; she used it as her laboratory spying on people).  It had a slide in the middle of the river that the kids loved.  It wasn’t that fast and the kids were a little skeptical at first but it quickly endeared itself to them and they were doing all sorts of poses as they slid down.  They about lost it with glee when Jon went down; they stood on the side of the pool and waited anxiously and when Jon flew out, they laughed and applauded as if he was a celebrity.  When it came to me, well, I was just expected to slide down with them.

The breakfast buffet was a slice of heaven.  They had anything your heart desired (they should have at the amount you have to pay) – the typical eggs and bacon to corn meal pancakes to donuts to granola.  Ri and I were mariamariobuffetbeyond excited every morning to hit it – we asked for the table closest to it so we could dig right in.  We got our money’s worth with me and Ri; however, Mario ate a few bites of donut and piece of bacon and he was done.  He was more concerned with going out on the green space and playing with the other kids.  The only problem was that the other kids all knew each other and had no desire to ask Mario to join them.  He looked like such a sad soul standing outside watching them.  mariamariodonutRi went out to cheer him up.  I followed after one last bite of a chocolate muffin.

We did cartwheels on the lawn while Jon watched (I swear he looked like Don Corleone when he sat in the garden chair with no one by him).  Other families looked at us with either awe or disgust but we didn’t care. It was refreshing.

cartwheels

mariamariofoozWe swam everyday and hit the Family Play Room the last two days.  The Family Room provided a refuge from the sun and the pool (after being in it for four hours).  RI and I colored pictures, Mario played Wii and on the iPad, and we all played foozball (I am horrid).  They had cubicles of hershey kisses, caramels, tootsie rolls and apples and raisins.  I grabbed Mario an apple to eat when he complained of being hungry.  He ate it and then turned the corner and saw the hershey kisses.  I wish I would have had my camera to capture his reaction.  He stood with his mouth agape absolutely flabbergasted that all of those kisses were available to eat.

We drove over to Jon’s best friend, Paul’s house to visit him and his wife and their kids on Thursday night.  They got pizza and Mario glued himself to their son, Sam (age 15) and Ri did the same with their daughter, Eve (age 11).  Sam played football with Mario and listened to Mario’s stories; Eve showed Maria her horse awards and let her play with her iPod. Jon got to hang with his best buddy and I got to hear all the particulars about how their daughter’s fiancée proposed.  We left at 8 pm, and both kids were passed out within ten minutes of our drive back to the hotel.  I carried Ri and Jon hauled Mario from the car all the way to our hotel room.  We were both sweating and out of breath.

mariaputtmarioputtWe hit the putt-putt for tradition’s sake.  The course was the most boring one we have been on to date.  I kicked everyone’s butt (my lucky day).  Maria got a hole-in-one and Mario stayed calm about it.  He did not play well but instead of acting out, he just kept to himself laying on the grass or sitting in the shade.  It broke my heart.  He’d go to the next hole and just sit under a tree looking like a little orphan.  But he perked back up at the end when we agreed to let them bounce on the trampolines.  After the trampolines, we played in the arcade and all found out we love air hockey.

mariabungee

mariobungee

mariamariohikeThe kids and I also got in a hike at Pinnacle Peak.  I loved that.  I was surprised that the kids made it up nearly a mile (the entire route up was 1.75 miles).  I was worried about Mario in the beginning because he slipped and cut his knee on a rock.  You would have thought it was deep gash by the way he was hopping around and crying.  It was a small cut that barely even bled.  But he just kept saying “I can’t go any farther, mom, I can’t.”  Luckily, a mother approached me with two band-aids.  “I know how kids can be about cuts,” she told me.  I bandaged him up but he still made me hold him.  That was the first sign we probably wouldn’t make it the entire way up.  But then his competitive spirit awoke when he saw Ri charging ahead.  He started to walk with a little limp and a big bodybuilder walked by him and said “Way to go guy mariamariopeak– keep it up!”  Mario looked at me and asked if I heard what the man said.  I told him “yes” and Mario said “he said it just to me mom, not to you or Ri.”  Mario, Mario.  But that is what it took to get Mario motivated.  Within five minutes, Maria complained of feeling sick and complained that she couldn’t go any farther.  That sealed the deal.  I could not carry her for 1.5 more miles.  I held her for a while and then we’d stop in the shade for a bit.  We did this off and on until he hit a perch near mile 1.  A kind soul saw that I was carrying Ri and said “congrats – you reached the top!”  Mario looked at me and asked “we did?”  I winked at the woman and declared “yes, we are here!”  Mario would have freaked if he knew we did not make it the entire way; he wanted to find the bodybuilder on our way down to tell him that he hiked to the top.  The flowers were gorgeous and the sights beautiful.  Ri walked the entire way down and when we got to the bottom both kids were sweating.  I told Ri she could empty the remainder of her water on her when we reached the bottom.  She promptly did so.  Mario followed suit.  They filled their bottles up with more water and did it again, and again.

cactus mariamariobikingphoenixI did not want them to get their car seats soaked so they took off their bottoms for the drive home.  They both found this hilarious, and laughed the entire way home (I must admit I was chuckling when I glanced back at these two half-naked goofs).  They made me crack up even more with this picture near the cactus.  Cards, they are.  

Jon and I found out they had bicycles to rent and a trail to ride around the hotel.  We had this idyllic scene in our head of all of us on our bikes riding past gorgeous cacti and flowers ad smiling at one another.  Reality took over with Jon and Ri biking and me running alongside Mario who was too nervous to ride a mountain bike.  Mario complained that he wanted to stop biking while I kept saying in my cheerful little voice “Come on, you are doing great. We are having fun.” My hypnosis didn’t work and our bike ride was all of fifteen minutes.

Out of all of that fun, the kids may most remember being asked by the pilot if they want to sit in his seat.  Their eyes opened wide and they looked up at me like it was a practical joke.  But there they were ready to fly us around the world.

mariopilot

mariapilot

I tell my folks that I have a new-found appreciation for my vacations as a kid because I realize the work that goes into them on the parent side now.  But boy are they worth all of the planning and hand-holding and fuss when you see the faces of your kids entranced by the glory of the Grand Canyon or the simple hopping of a bunny.