Tag: Parenting

Time to run

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I signed Ri and I up for a 5K run/walk in support of research to cure Batten Disease. One of Ri’s friends has a twin brother and sister who are both battling the disease. The twins attended nearly all of the girls’ soccer games this Fall so a bunch of parents and girls signed up in support of the family. 

Ri was not excited about the event at all. I told her about a week in advance and nearly every night, she’d confirm “we don’t have to run the entire race, do we?” She still has PTSD from the Girls on the Run 5K where she nearly keeled over in exhaustion from running so long and hard. She is just not into running for running’s sake. And I’ve accepted it … for the most part….  

But as much as Ri dislikes running, she adores helping people. And I knew she’d go along with me to the race without a huge cry because she knew we were helping out her friend’s sister and brother. She has a monstrous heart. 

We arrived to lots of other girlfriends playing at Audubon Park and moms and dads registering for the race. Ri ran over to talk to her girlfriends while I signed us up. It was uplifting to see so many Grandview moms and dads with their kids coming out to support the cause. I can’t remember who the guest was on Krista Tippett’s show “On Being” but the guest opined that we all want to feel connected. That gives us purpose and joy. I thought of that guest’s words as I stood with my group of girlfriends and stretched my not-quite-awake-yet legs and watched Ri laugh with her friends. Others smiled at me as they walked to the start of the race. I saw Ri help a little boy off the bars. Connection. 

  
They had the siblings of the children inflicted with Batten Disease countdown for the start of the race. We stood together waiting to take off. And 3-2-1…we were off. Ri and a few girlfriends ran in front of me talking and smiling together. I was excited to see the girls running and laughing and I yelled “You got this girls!” Within a few seconds of my shout, I witnessed Ri stumble and fall to the gravel path. Blood, cuts, tears. 

I moved her over to the grass and sat down with her. She had a scraped knee and torn-up arm. Blood slowly oozed out. I could tell she was both shocked at the quick fall and stinging from the gravel cuts. I held her head into my chest. Slowly, I got her back up and told her we should walk it off and see how we felt after a bit. She was hesitant at first asking if she’d have to run. I told her we could walk the entire way and turn back if she hurt too much. 

We walked up to the bike path. She looked over at me and then at her friend, Evelyn. 

“Let’s try to run to the telephone pole ahead and then we will stop and walk a bit.” Evelyn agreed. And so we ran to the pole. Then walked. We caught up with other friends and walked with them. And ran. And before we knew it, we were at the finish line and all the girls formed a circle to talk. Some ran hard, others jogged with parents, others ran and walked and others simply walked and talked. No judgment, no pressure. 

  
I was so proud of Ri for plugging away to finish the race. I knew she was uncomfortable and the cuts stung. But she forced her mind to think of something else – friends, curing the disease, finding water, getting Mark Pi sesame chicken for lunch….whatever. She is one amazingly tough mama chica.

After the race, you could buy raffle tickets for the numerous gift baskets on the tables. I let Ri buy $5 worth of tickets. She gave me one ticket and she took four. She put them all in one canister for a wildlife basket. It had a bear hat, stuffed animal, zoo passes and gift cards to a pizzeria in it. All she wanted was the bear hat. 

We left before they drew names of the winners. They never called the rest of the day so Ri and I figured someone else won. On Monday, however, I received a call from one of the sponsors that Maria had won the wildlife basket. It was as though I’d been told we won 1 million dollars. I couldn’t wait to tell her that she had won. And for a few minutes after that call, I basked in the glory of that daughter of mine – her strength, her courage, her positivity, and her luck!

  

Mario moolah

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I went to teacher conferences for the kiddos last week. Maria got rave reviews from her teachers: “she is so sweet and generous with her classmates; she always helps out; she always participates in class…”. I think she’s hit a good stride this year and feels more confident around her classmates and teachers. 

Mario’s teacher has been a neighbor of ours the past few years. I see her and her husband walk their dog around the block and often stop to chat “dog” with them when I’m walking Rocco. She’s a down-to-earth, pleasant person who has taught for at least 20 years. 

We sat down and her first words were “Mario is a bit mature for his age, heh?” She gave an immediate example (paraphrased below):

“I asked the students to draw an object based on a shape I gave them. For example, a ball may be turned into a basketball. Mario got a square. He turned it into a house. 

I asked each kid to come to the front of the room and describe the object they made. When Mario came to the front of the room, he described his house like this: ‘my house is pretty big but the sellers are asking way too much for it. They want $600,000 and it’s barely worth $300,000 so I don’t think they are going to get as much as they want.’

All of the kids sat there looking confused but smiling at Mario.”

Gotta love that kid. She advised that if I want to give him any extra math work, I make sure to use real scenarios with him. “He understands math and money – and likes real world problems.”

Hmmmm. I immediately thought of my dad telling me the story of him and Mario building a birdhouse together. They had been working on finishing touches to the wooden birdhouse when Mario asked “how much longer do we have on this one?” My dad asked what the hurry. Mario responded “we need to get this one done so we can make a bunch more and sell them for $50 each.” 

Yep. My boy has always had a keen sense for numbers and money. And he’s much better at addition than subtraction.

  

Missing the chaos

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Bike home. Take the pup for a walk. Take off work clothes and put on shorts and t-shirt. Bike to Mario’s practice. Say hi to moms and watch Mario make tackles. Leave practice to head to Maria’s practice. Say hi to moms and watch Ri kick the soccer ball. Gather up Ri and her girlfriends and bike them home. Eat random foods for dinner: cmhslice of ham, noodles, cereal, Klondike bar, peas. Make the kids brush teeth. Wrestle with them. Scold them to settle down. Tell them a funny story from when I was little. Rub their backs. Turn off lights. Let the pup out. Kennel him. Eat some chocolate chips. Wash face. Brush teeth. Go to bed.

Just like I thought my evenings would be twenty-five years ago when I daydreamed about life after college.

This weekend marks the end of practices and games (at least for another month when basketball starts). Ri has four soccer tournament games – two on Saturday and two on Sunday. The first one on Saturday starts at 8 am and it’s 35 minutes away. Ugh. 

But as hectic as life has been, I find myself melancholy at the thought of it all ending. It’s a blast watching Mario in his football pads blocking Hilliard kids from tackling the receiver. It’s thrilling watching Ri get the ball and kick it to her team mate. It’s much more fun than watching them do homework or play Minecraft on the computer. And it gets our family up and moving. Jon assisted coaching Mario’s team and went to nearly every practice and every game. The boys all looked up to him and Mario loved having him around. Maria loved heading to practice to see her friends and her coaches. I loved being able to walk the pup without Mario whining that I “always have to walk the dog” (even though he stares into the computer screen the entire time he whines). 

But it does get tiring doing it every night. Mario on Monday, Thursday, Saturday and/or Sunday. Ri on Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday and/or Sunday. 

It will feel strange to walk in the door from work and have no plans. Be able to look over homework. Talk about our days. Make dinner. Sit together. 

Ha, who am I kidding? It’s Fall: we will be riding our bikes to the park and heading to La Tavola for an ice cream dinner. Or Ri will head to the basement with her frozen dinner to watch Say Yes to the Dress. Or Mario will go down to Quinn’s and snack. Maybe we will sit down together in Winter. Wait, there’s sled riding and playing in the snow….

   
    
    
 

Put it in perspective 

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So I think I’ve written previously about how I believe Ri was my mom in a past life. Actually, I’m not a believer or non-believer in reincarnation – who knows what’s in store for us at the end of this crazy life. But I remember reading Shirley MacLaine’s book and her writing that she believed her daughter was her mother in a past life (at least I think that’s what she said after all these years). That passage stuck with me when I read it and it feels relevant on so many occasions with Ri. I sometimes wonder if I’m teaching her half of what she is teaching me.

She had picture day this morning. She was up all night coughing and hacking with the ugly virus that the rest of us have had this month. When she woke up, her nose was Rudolph red and her eyes were swollen. Nonetheless, she got dressed and turned on her flat iron for me to straighten her hair. She never complained about how she looked or felt. To the contrary, after she found an outfit to wear, she smiled and commented “I really like this on me.”

As I did her hair and brushed some powder on her face to try to tone down the redness, I told her I was sorry she felt bad. She shrugged her shoulders and looked in the mirror. She gave me the smile she’d give for pictures. Beautiful. Then she blew her nose hard into the tissue laying on the sink and went down for breakfast.

Lesson taught: put it in perspective. It’s just class pictures. She’s healthy, got a cute outfit, biking to school rather than walking, and gets Cocoa Krispies for breakfast. Others may be freaking out (I think back to me at that age and I’m quite sure a meltdown may have occurred) but she goes with the flow. 

And as work explodes through the day, I will think of her and put it in perspective. I’ve got a good lunch waiting for me, I got to bike to work, I got a shower this morning, and I have two incredible kids who keep me aware of what matters. 

  

Sunday sports

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We started our Sunday off early – up at 7:30 am to head to Ri’s double-header softball games. Ri is a trooper: she was up all night coughing her head off and I thought for sure she’d wake up begging not to go to softball. But instead she woke up and went downstairs to eat a bowl of cereal. Now, I’m not saying she was jumping up and down to get to her game – in fact, when I asked her if she could go to the game she shrugged her head mimicking “I don’t know.” But when I told her that if she skipped softball there would be no afternoon play dates, she put on her cleats and was ready to go. 

She cranked out a hit and walked three times.

 
  
Our softball girl! She also got a play at third base but still has no clue how it happened! The ball was hit to left field and she moved to third base like her coach told her to do whenever she heard the ball hit the bat. But she was not aware of the girl heading to third or that she could make an out. She was standing there ready to get the ball to the pitcher. The left fielder threw it to Ri and she happened to turn towards the girl running to third and tag her right before her foot touched the bag! The ump called an out and Ri looked baffled until she realized she made the out. Gotta love her. Actually, what I love more is that she readily admits it! I asked her after the game if she knew what she was doing and she laughed “ugh, no, I had no idea! I was ready to throw it to the pitcher!” And yet another reason I love her so. She is completely comfortable with herself to the point that she doesn’t need to make up a story to look better. 

Now, Mario, on the other hand, would have crafted a story to make it seem he knew exactly what he was doing! And he would have convinced us all he did know what he was doing even if that wasn’t the case. He enjoys the limelight and looking cool. I think it’s partly being an eight year old boy but also partly his personality. Whereas Ri can laugh at her foibles, Mario does not want to draw attention to them. 

Mario cranked out a tough football game in the afternoon. He played both offense and defense and ran the ball a few times. He didn’t get too far because defenders swarmed him but it was enjoyable as heck to watch.   

  He will undoubtedly come home tonight and show me all his moves he did on the field. He will talk about how they got robbed of a win. And he will jump on XBox and play some more football. 

I’m so glad that I have two kids that love the outdoors and have taken to Fall sports – both very different in their approach but I love watching them both all the same.

Cape Cod wedding

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Our family Cape Cod trip was sliced in half. Jon’s upper respiratory infection had him coughing so violently that he had no voice. He hadn’t slept for nights because every time his head laid on the pillow, he sprung back up with a barking cough. There was no way he’d make it through a weekend away; much less, there was no way we could stay in one hotel room together and get any sleep. Mario decided he needed to stay home with his dad to make sure he could take care of him if anything happened. Oh, and he also got to spend the night with Grandma Ionno to let dad get some rest. 

So, it was a girls’ weekend. Ri and I took our first airplane trip together alone. She had to endure sitting in coach seats; every other trip she has gotten First Class due to her dad. She’s a natural at traveling – she had her shoes off and her jacket in a plastic bin before I could tell her she needed to do that prior to going through security. Is it bad that I would look at her in line and see a 25-something, somewhat anxious, executive waiting in line to get to her work destination?  It’s so easy to imagine that with Ri because she acts so much older than her years. I recall Grandma Meg telling me a story about Ri commenting about her couch pillows and how nice they looked and felt. Grandma Meg felt as though she was having a conversation with a 50 year-old woman. 

We bought two bagels and sat at our gate. She looked at Facebook. I looked around. When it looked like the ticket agent was ready to board, Ri gathered up our things and scurried me along. “Mom, hurry, we want to get on the plane before the others.”

On the plane, she nestled into her seat with her iPad and earphones. Cupcake Wars began to play and she zoned out. The attendant came around eventually and we got waters and pretzels to eat (we each asked for an extra bag, of course). When we landed, Ri was the first to stand up and prepare for departure. She was excited to be in Boston. I was excited, too. So excited that we exited the terminal to get our bags not realizing that once we exited we couldn’t get back in to eat! We had two and a half hours to wait for Melanie and Stephen who were driving us to the hotel. 

But we figured out an alternative plan that ended up being much more fun. We took the Silver Line bus to South Station  where we got to eat come good Cajun chicken and people watch. Ri wanted to take a subway and this was the next best thing. We had to buy a card to go back into the station and catch our bus, which was something new and exciting for Ri. A man was playing the guitar on our way back right along two yuppies who were holding briefcases and chatting. You get to see a wide range of folks here, Ri. She nodded as if she’d seen it all before. 

  
By the time we returned to the airport, Melanie had landed. We found Stephen (after nearly 45 minutes of roaming the parking lot!) and headed to Cape Cod in the pouring rain. Ri had her girlfriend Henley with her now and she was loving that – they laughed and acted ridiculous most of the way to Cape Cod (Ri passed out asleep about 20 minutes out). 

On Friday morning, Ri woke up ready to devour the breakfast buffet. I was right beside her! We met up with Henley and the crew. Ri was mightily disappointed that the Inn did not serve a buffet bar. She threw a bit of a pouting session (there’s my ten year old girl!) but then livened up after I took her out to talk. The rest of the day we chilled with Henley and her family and Melissa and her son (Henley and Ri love to watch over him) around the Inn and around Sandwich. We visited some stores and found a cute candy shoppe that sold those candy cigarettes I used to fake smoke as a kid. I had to buy those up. Later that night, Ri asked if we could throw them away since they were bad for you – even if they were candy. Sweet thing.

   
 We headed off to the Clambake in the evening. It was at a lake house and it was a beautiful night. The kids loved the water and the sandy shore. They couldn’t resist to roll up their pants and jump in the lake. Ri exhibited much self-control – usually she will jump in fully clothed but I warned her I would not be happy. 

   
   
Ri also tried her first lobster! She didn’t think it was bad … not particularly her favorite, either, but she gave it a shot. She was not a fan of the clams, however. The cake and cookies were killer dessert though and we both had enough for four! 

   
 The kids put on a dance show for us at the end of the night. Ri, with her meek self, approached guests and told them they better come to the basement for a killer dance show. 

Saturday was the wedding and Ri and Henley spent an hour preparing. They looked like divas. Red lipstick and all. They were so stoked about it. 

   
 Ri has known Doris and Kim her entire life and I’m grateful that they let us witness their vows. We also got to take a trolley to the wedding. Too fun! The beach couldn’t have been any more stunning with the powder blue sky and white bouncing clouds and balloons and colorful umbrella for folks to hold as they stood in the sun waiting for the brides. The ceremony was short and sweet; the kids watched the entire event deep in the moment. 

   
 Afterwards, they jumped in the ocean after slipping off their shoes. They found huge rocks to climb and stand on as Melanie and I bit our nails worried about them slipping. They had it under control.

   
    
   
The kids took the mass of balloons back in the trolley and we sang songs as we headed to the reception at the home of one of Doris and Kim’s dear friends. The kids did fairly well in the beginning. However, Ri was pretty disappointed at the fact this friend had a pool but wouldn’t let them swim in it. She got over it though as they brought out appetizer after appetizer. She and Henley tasted most everything. There was a man playing the guitar and singing and a tent up for everyone to sit under while eating and chatting. Doris and Kim were so happy and in love, which made the day all the more spectacular. 

   
 After dinner, the kids were getting tired and antsy. I told them we could go to the boardwalk. Someone had told me it was just a few blocks away. About fifteen minutes into the walk – and five minutes from the boardwalk – we got a text that the desserts were being served. Henley desperately wanted to go back. Ri didn’t. One boy didn’t, the other did. I knew Henley’s mom wanted her back so we turned around and headed back. Ri was irritated. Henley felt bad. They both pouted. I walked with Ri and explained how I always feel bad when I get mad at a friend for something trivial and end up having a horrible time because of it. We could see the boardwalk later. Ri walked back to where Henley was sauntering and said something to her that led to them walking together and talking. Ri is good about letting things go, which I hope she keeps as she gets older.

We ended up losing out on the desserts after all. We scored a few macaroons but that was it. But we got hugs from Doris and Kim – a fine alternative to the sweets. We left a bit afterwards to go change at the Inn and hit the boardwalk. The kids got bored as the adults changed and relaxed for a few minutes and they went to the gardens. Much to their surprise, the pool was open. We went down to find them jumping off the fake cliffs on the sides of the pool and having a blast. So much for the boardwalk. The Inn’s pool won the evening. 

We closed the pool down and headed up to our rooms to change for a late dinner. How we could be hungry after all we are at the reception is beyond me but we were. Grilled cheeses and pasta dishes later, we trekked up to our rooms for sleep. We all looked like zombies the next morning. We had to leave at 9:30 am for the airport. We sat at breakfast staring off into space. No one was offended. We shoveled in more food and packed ourselves in Stephen’s van to head to the airport. 

Ri held my hand as we rose up in the air on takeoff. I get super nervous and I was starting to get sick by Sunday with a cough and headache. She nursed me well as we flew through the cotton clouds on our way home to Columbus. I learned how enjoyable it is to go on a trip with Ri – she is the quintessential travel partner. No drama, low maintenance, funny, out-going, and kind. She earned the right to visit Mexico and hang with her Aunt Sarah or Sweden to visit her Uncle Jack. Oh, heck, maybe we’ll hit both. 

  

watchin’

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It’s been quite a week. Came back from our weekend in Cape Cod with a nasty cough and headache. I worked from home on Monday and took off Tuesday because I was so miserable. I worked yesterday and felt a bit better but was so inundated with emails and tasks that I wanted to crawl into bed as soon as I got home. 

After dinner, Mario walked up to me and asked “are you still coming on my field trip tomorrow?” Ahh, the field trip. I had completely forgotten about it. I had so much work waiting for me, my head was still aching, I just wanted to sleep for 48 hours. His blue eyes sung to me. I couldn’t say no. I told him I could go for a half day but that I would have to leave at 11:30. He hugged me and said that was fine.

10 pm arrives. I am answering email. My boss’ assistant emails and asks if I can be on a call at 10 am the next morning. Immediate distress. I will be with Mario at the creek. But my boss needs me. But I rarely take days like this with Mario and he’s so excited. But my boss rarely needs me for emergency meetings.

I email the assistant and ask her if we can move the call up to 8:15 am. She can do it. I get the call the next morning on my way to the creek and am still on it as I park and walk over to Mario. He sees me and runs towards me. I hang up. 

We walk to the field full of crickets and katydids. Mario catches a female wolf spider with an egg sack. He is proud of himself. Next, we catch a colorful field cricket. Then, Mario whispers for me from a few feet away.

“Mom, come fast!”

He has spotted a katydid resting on a leaf. It took me a while to spot it because it blends in so well with the plant. He captures it after a few tries in his empty peanut butter jar and runs it over to the guide. The guide is impressed. Mario is pleased.

   
 We move onto the creek where the kids will get to use nets to try and find different water life. I really need to head out to get to my work meeting. Mario begs me to stay a bit longer. We listen to the guide give instructions on how to hold the net and what they may find. Mario and his buddies are excited. They endure the guide’s instructions and jump up at the end to get their net. I listen to the boy chatter as they head towards the creek:

“Dude, the water is going to be cold! Dude, did you bring other shoes? Dude, we get lunch after this.”

Mario looks for me as he climbs the hill with a net full of crawdads and silver dollars. He reaches down to pick up a crawdad and peeks up at me with those siren eyes. 

“You watching, mom?”

Yes, darlin’, I am.”   

 

flash mob and chugging

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I took Ri and a friend to the Grandview Hop last Saturday night. Mario spent the night with his buddy Zach another football buddy at Zach’s house. His mom texted me at 10 pm “I just walked downstairs to find all three boys in their skivvies playing Madden football.” What a sight.

Meanwhile, Ri and Henley and I sampled pork burritos and listened to the 80’s music blasting from a Young Professionals booth. Two young gals were dancing away to “Centerfold” and trying to sing the lyrics. People make fun of the 80’s yet here they are choosing that music over any other. 

We met up with Doris and Kim. Ri had several important questions for them – the most important being whether they were both wearing dresses to their wedding in a few weeks. Then questions about what color their clothing would be, who would walk them down the aisle and so on…They answered all of her pressing questions as they always do. Love them. 

We walked towards Stauf’s when out of the blue, a flash mob started dancing to one of the latest pop hits. Now granted, the mob wasn’t scores of folks but it was still a flash mob! And what did Ri immediately do? 

Jump right into the mix.

   

She got her friend out there with her and they jammed through two more songs. Then she was on fire! She ran up and down the street with her friend and another girlfriend who arrived late – laughing and shouting and talking to random people. They met a woman who made art out of her condo and she invited us in to see her studio. Ri and her friends loved it. And they found adorable rings for me to purchase for them…!

  We walked back out to the party only to find a boy in Ri’s class eating ice cream with his mom. The girls had to get a picture with him before they’d leave him alone. Poor guy.  I bought the girls some Jeni’s ice cream (sugar – just what they needed) and they each got a cup of water. Maria stopped them as soon as they got out the door and yelled “let’s chug the water and the first one to chug and throw their cup down wins!” 

Seriously?! I had visions of her at age 18 in the college bar with her girlfriends. Yikes.   Maybe she will get it all out of her system now and hole herself in her dorm room to study every night when she hits college?

Seriously?!

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So we were down to one kid Saturday night. And it was Ri. And she had slept overnight at a friend’s house Friday night so she was exhausted. There was a good chance she may sleep in until 8 or 8:30 on Sunday morning. Jon and I stayed up later than usual. It was a wild night – bed after 11 pm!

If it’s not the kids, it’s the dog. Jon heard Rocco at 6 am crying in his kennel. I barely heard him get out of bed but then, five minutes later, he was in our room jostling me. 

“Rocco got sick – I need your help.” The stench overpowered me as soon as I hit the bottom stair. His kennel looked like a murder scene. Diarrhea everywhere. The walls and cabinets were splattered with brown flakes. 

Lovely. 

I went outside and saw blood droplets on the steps. Then in the grass. Poor guy was bleeding, too. I went upstairs, got dressed, grabbed a cereal bar, and we were off to the ER. Jon stayed back with Ri. 

Three hours later I was back home running a brush through my hair and trying to find Ri’s softball shirt. Jon got her bag and water bottle, we rushed into the car, picked up Ri’s friend, and headed 30 minutes up north to her double header softball game. Meanwhile, I waited to hear from the ER vet. It was scorching hot outside – 88 degrees. The temp was extra hellish after being treated to 65-70 degree days for a few days. I could have laid in the grass under the oak tree and napped the entire game. But I cheered on my girl who got two hits and was so happy. 

We got home at 5 pm. Jon crashed upstairs and I ate two bags of Whoppers. I was starving. I tried to nap on the couch but Mario was playing Madden Football so every 30 seconds he yelled “Mom, look at this play!”

I dragged my body off the couch and drove to the grocery with Ri. The vet called. Rocco needed to stay overnight to keep fluids in him. At least we’d get a full night of sleep (we’d end up paying $500 for that night of sleep but hey…). Ri and I picked out brownie mix and cookie mix at the store to make treats for my girlfriend’s birthday. Then we shopped for lunch and dinner necessities. She could have thrown ten bags of donuts in the cart and I wouldn’t have noticed. I was beat.

We arrived home to Mario greeting us. I asked him to help with the groceries and he declined. I loudly commented about how strong Ri was to carry so many grocery bags and he ran over to carry just as many. I still have it….

 We stepped in the house and missed our Rocco immediately. We take for granted that warm, leaping hello we get from him every time we enter the house. Ri grabbed bowls and measuring cups and we started our chocolate chip cookie batter. Between the two of us licking the spoon and the spatula and the sides of the bowl, we probably only baked half the mix. 
The brownie batter was even worse. The cookie dough was our appetizer and the brownie mix was our dinner. We did make a bowl of green beans to go with it though. By 9 pm, the desserts were complete and we were all ready to crash. I’m not sure teeth even got brushed before bed – we all just zombied our ways to our rooms and called it a day. 

Love my girl

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I was talking with a friend the other day about how hectic her mornings are with her tween daughter. 

“I have to get her up, make her get dressed and brush her teeth, fix her breakfast, and beg her to get to the bus on time.”

I shook my head and comforted her. I told her I was sure she’d get in the swing of things as school progressed. She went off to a meeting. I looked down at my phone at a picture of Ri. I couldn’t help but feel gratitude for my girl.

My girl – who I found in the kitchen this morning after my run – putting a spoon of Rice Krispies in her mouth as she dumped leftover quinoa salad into a container to take for lunch at school. She had alsomade Mario a bowl of Fruit Loops and had let Rocco outside. I’m telling you, she was my mom in a past life. Or someone’s mom. She has the routine down pat.

I sometimes take it for granted. 

“I’m biking to soccer practice, mom. See you in an hour and a half.”

“I looked up the recipe for sugar cookies and got them started.”

“I found workbooks on line for Mario and me this Summer.”

“I’m going to be late for school mom. You can’t take another picture of me!”

She might as well be 30. And her carefree, let it go, attitude about life sets a good example for all of us. Last night, she played a soccer game until 7:30. She was starving but I made her go to Kroger’s to pick up food before we ate. She pouted as she got out of the car but as soon as I kiddingly tapped her side and smiled, she livened up.

“I’m getting a crouton from the salad bar since you dragged me in here!” She skipped over to the salad bar with a mischievous smile on her face. 

I caved in and got her Chipotle afterwards. She got a burrito bowl filled with rice and beans and cheese and sour cream. With a big dollop of guacamole on top. She knows how to live. When I told her that I was gonna take 90 percent of the guac to eat with my chips, she grunted.

She carried the bowl in her right hand and a grocery bag in her left while kicking the soccer ball up the sidewalk to the house. When she got to the steps, she kicked the soccer ball super hard with the hopes that it would bypass all the steps and land near the door. Instead, it ricocheted off the second step and collided with her burrito bowl, which flew out of her hand and all over the ground. 

She looked at me. I looked at her. 

I expected either (1) tears or (2) a demand that we get her another bowl at 8:45 at night. But neither reaction occurred. 

Rather, we both cracked up. And then she bent over and scooped up the sloppy mess of cheese and beans and tossed it back in the cardboard bowl. 

“It’s all good. Besides, I get more guac now because it’s all mixed into the cheese and beans!”

I can’t love this girl anymore.