...any day can be {the day}...

Fallen leaves litter the ground...crunching satisfactorily underfoot and painting the landscape in muted browns and golds.  A season's change...nature running it's course...  Nothing in life escapes the inevitable.  Love or heartbreak, despair or joy, moments that flit and those that drag on...meanwhile time marches on and seasons change.  And one can become so ensnared...so caught in the slow-motion that only the seasons changes signal time is passing.

This blog has lain dormant these many months as my slow-motion storm raged. 

I had met my wall...the inevitable moment when it was simply to much. 

And that's ok. 

It happens to us all.

It's even ok to admit it.  To step back.  To say, 'I'll be back later'...'maybe'...

And now my maybe is here. 

Maybe it's ok to step back in slowly...

Maybe I don't have to approach this as an added {responsibility}...

Maybe I can write something today...without promising to do so again-anytime-ever...

Maybe the only reader that matters is my future-self...

Maybe being a work in progress holds greater value than being a success...

I made a choice recently...to mindfully-steadily work at living a life of action, not reaction.

This is new...this idea that I can wake up one morning and shape the day as I see fit...ignoring the outside...dismissing the rules...

I can stop trying to be that which I was never intended to be.

And I can finally...at long last...close a door I so long refused to see as open...and walk away.

I'm turning my eyes ahead...the rest now lies in shadows...





...out of order...

Sadly, readers, my computer is still pulling the inaccessible gimmick...so don't expect much by way of posting until I get it back up and running. I'm fairly certain that I just need to fork over the cashola for a new mouse...and honestly, I hope it's that simple. Hopefully I will find both time and opportunity to look into that this weekend. Maybe a wireless mouse is the way to go?

Anyways, hope you are all enjoying a restful and relaxing end to the week! Cross your fingers and wish me luck. I hate being disconnected like this.

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...of mice and men...

I really truly ought to have known better...after all, vacuums aren't really known for their computer curative properties! I'm not sure if I just need to buy a new mouse or if the problem is more technological (read: expensive)...but either way, I'm down one desktop computer once again.
Grrrrr!
I had several posts just waiting to be written.
Seems they'll be on hold until the computer issues are solved.
Just goes to show you...men (or women!) can make all sorts of plans...only to find themselves undermined by something as small as a mouse!

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...treasures in and out of boxes...

Pestered by day 2 of gloom and doom today, and more than enough rain to successfully determine even the most valiant of efforts at outdoor activity, I chose instead to delve into the archives and tackle another round of storage.  

Almost 3 years ago now, I dutifully undertook the sorting out and packing up, filling totes and Chiquita banana boxes alike with all the trappings of our life.  Anyone who might happen upon them would surely be able to develop a fairly accurate depiction of who we were then, merely by digging through these treasure boxes of what we had found important enough to keep.

And so it was that I, sitting in a dim and damp basement, ripped through tape and packing paper to open a door we had last closed in Ohio.  Cautiously I lifted lids and peeked into memory.  Here were those treasure near and dear to us.  Well loved books, cherished letters, trinkets and baubles and fabric remnants of another home and the life it had housed.  These familiar pieces of an existence put on hold.  The very sight of one battered picture book opened a floodgate in my mind: my son but an infant nodding off in his crib with tight fists raised above his head...rocking by the window on a starry night while nursing...wiping spaghetti sauce off the cover and the high-chair and myself...emptying the bookshelf...

I uncovered boxes and found more paperback books than I should admit to owning.  I recovered two clocks and three vases.  I found a travel sewing kit.  Our old living room curtains.  Every letter my best friend in Denmark ever sent me bursting out of a warped wooden box.  And with every layer deeper more memories of life and love and everything in between. 

I spent a good while there in that basement with those boxes, culling the pile of belongings.  Once again making choices as to which was more important than the other.  Which needed to be held onto tightly with both hands and which had outlived its belonging-stage.  Hours later the boxes were fewer in number...the ones remaining made more valuable somehow in their re-choosing.  And in the corner lay the castoffs...those things-those pieces and bits that I...in but a few hours time had relegated to the past and made my peace with.  Perhaps they would go on to become someone else's treasure as they were now nothing to me but junk. 

As I repacked those boxes today, individually picking up and hold and replacing one thing after another I was awash in memories.  These items, like icons, retaining a whole world in their core.  The value of each came simply from the life lived around it.  The meals eaten, the words said, the emotions felt, the experiences... 

These treasure boxes that were simply worthless cardboard and plastic catchalls when closed, opened to reveal priceless treasure indeed to the woman who had packed them up.  They were the tangible representations of five years in a life...in a home...  And they were packed up, ready and waiting to be made useful and memorable once again. 

The real treasure is the memories...poignant, unrestrained, and ever growing in number.

...words to get you through...

Since my son was but a wee little one, I've kept various journals and notebooks and the like on me at almost all times.  I try to write things down as they hit.  Whether it's quotes that inspire, ideas to craft, thoughts to write out, future blog posts...scribbles on papers all over the place.  Someday soon I'll have to start consolidating.  I will have to search out every scrap and remnant for the words I've written down for Mister Man and compile them all in one notebook, one place for him to go to when he needs to read the right thing for the right time.  I want there to be something leftover some distant day in the future when I am no longer there for every moment. 

He's a trooper...a walking miracle who comes up against all odds and always wins.  He is strong and knows when to bend so that he won't break.  No matter what gets thrown at him he finds a soft place to land and then goes back and tries again.  I'm a daily awestruck.  And my heart overflows. 

I want him to read my words when he needs them the most.

I want him to know...

My darling son.  You are stronger than the pain you feel when someone else is cruel and thoughtless.

It will not break you.  You will take it inside of you...that pain...and you will turn it into compassion for others...into sympathy and empathy. 

You are wiser than those who challenge your knowledge.  You are a reader and a creator.  You take in what the world offers and allow it space inside you to grow into a larger picture.  You allow the information that you are given to expand your horizons into a wider view.  You are a learner.  

You are loved not for what you do or what you give, but for who you are.  

I am always on your side.  I will get it right, and I will get it wrong.  I will make mistakes and I will fail.  I will miss the call or be to late.  I know that, and so should you.  Because life is complicated and sometimes it's impossible to balance it all.  But I will always back you up.  There will never come a day when I won't take the time to try to see it your way.  I promise you that you will always have in me a soft place to land...a safe and secure spot to rest and recharge and reassess.    

Always remember, the only outside opinions that matter are those offered by the ones who love you and whom you love.  The only opinions that ring true come from those who know your path and who have walked portions of it with you.  

I know it's a hard thing concept to understand, much less put into practice...but just so you know...those bullies?  They're weak.  They are sad and miserable and lonely and scared on the inside.  They are so weak that they don't know that the right thing to do is to ask for help.  They are so weak that they don't know that you would help if asked.  They are so weak that they have to gang together because they are afraid to open up one on one.  They are so weak that they strike out at you and try to make you feel the way they do on the inside, and then they think they feel stronger because they were able to cause pain.   But they are wrong.  They are weak and they are wrong.  And they are missing out on you.  They will never know what a good friend you are.  They will never know what a fun and interesting person you are.   They will never know that you could help them feel better.  And that is sad.  Because I know...and my life is a millions times better because I know. 

I love you.  I always have and I always will.  And I will mess up and you will be angry.  But I will keep trying.  And we will have the happiest life that we can dream up!

  

...tame or wild...

We received quite the outpouring of support last week via texts, calls, emails and comments in regards to this post about bullying.  I'm so very grateful to each and every one of your for your concern, love and suggestions.  I'm glad I didn't stop myself short of writing and submitting those words...they were genuine expressions of how I truly felt and continue to feel.  I'm sickened by the way some children behave...and by the seeming lack of concern or involvement their parents have over what I deem troubling warning signs.  To be forced into the position of having to teach my special-needs 8 year old child how to defend himself against physical attacks goes against everything I want him to believe in.  And to have his view of education colored so negatively by these attacks angers me more than I care to admit.  He is such a bright and curious child with such and aptitude and thirst for learning...I absolutely hate watching that wither away in the face of these bullying occurrences.

It's important to me though, that I follow up with all of you and let you know how things played out.  After my phone call to the school, they followed their established protocols and interviewed Mister Man in a roomful of adults.  After establishing his side, they then did the same with both the girl who had attacked him and a classmate of Mister Man's who witnessed the event.  Apparently the girl went the foreseeable route and lied about the whole thing.  But the classmate's version matched Mister Man's, and the principle and staff made it clear they believed him.  So the girl in question lost her recess privileges and had to write an apology note to Mister Man.  Additionally, Mister Man's seat was moved to the back of the bus where he is now surrounded by 5th grade buddies as an effort to protect him. 

Ok, fairly cut and dry.

A few problems though.

1)  The apology note?  I'm not sure if it was scripted or prompted or actually written out by the girl herself, but good gosh the wording was kind of scary.  One line in particular threw me off... "It's just sometimes I lose control of myself. I get mean.   I don't know why." 

 Ummm...really?  Did any of the school staff read that???  Considering last year's temporary expulsion nonsense that we went through, I'm suprised those words made it to our home.  I don't think I'm over-reacting in my response...that statement give cause for question.  I'd take a long hard look at that child and send her off to the guidance office for starters.

Losing Control?  Getting Mean?  Not Knowing Why? 

Keep her away from my son.

2) Forcing a bunch of 5th graders to essentially babysit my child on the bus?  Yeah, that's gonna go over superbly.  Let's face it people, 5th graders consider that bus ride social hour.  You've just succeeded in making my son an inconvenience to them.  Oh, and considering his autism and the massive social/communication issues he has...way to go, you've just thrown him into a virtual lion's den of communication.   He has nothing to offer in 5th grade experience, and he feels the difference. 

Brilliant plan there.

3)  Really?  She loses recess for a few days?  For striking another person repeatedly with a metal object?  Last I checked that does actually sound like physical attack with a weapon.  Metal hurts people.  It leaves cuts and bruises.  And it's scary...being attacked unprovoked.  So losing recess?  Yeah, not exactly a punishment to fit the crime.

Now listen, I realize that in reading this some of you may be shaking your heads wondering why I sound so extreme.  But here's the deal.  Mister Man has been the victim of bullying multiple times over in this school.  I'm thrilled to know that come the end of the school year I am getting him the heck out of there...but in the meantime, he's scared to be on the bus, scared to be on the playground, scared to wait on lines.  And aside from literally standing next to him all day long at school, there's little I can effectively do to make him feel at ease.  That's the school's responsibility, and in my opinion, they aren't even coming close to fulfilling it. 

The day that I had to take my son in hand and physically teach him how to fight back for when flight is not an option, is the day his school failed him.

...oh what a beautiful morning-to stare at a mess...

You know that line from Finding Nemo...

"Morning. It's morning, everyone! Today's the day! The sun is shining, the tank is clean, and we are gonna get out of...GASP!!!!

...yup, that one?

Here's my  version from this morning:

"Morning.  It's morning, everyone!  Today's the day!  The sun is shining, the windows are clean...

and crap, clean windows plus bright spring sunlight...gee whiz, would you like at the mess in here?!?

Let me tell you readers, nothing but nothing brings attention to a house in need of major spring cleaning like those first morning rays of springtime promises.  I can see every speck of dirt, every crumb the vacuum ignored and of course veritable mountains and valleys of legos all over the livingroom floor!  Consider whatever part of my insomnia-addled brain that was actually cheerful this morning promptly returned to sleep-mode now that I see what really lies before me. 

Spring may mean regrowth and fresh blossoms out in the natural world, but here in Casa Caffeinated it's looking more and more like box up and toss out time. 

With another move in the works for this summer it's definitely not absurd to be thinking of condensing once again.  But good gosh, it would have been nice to go an hour or two this morning without the visual reminder and dismal realization!

Time to start marking the boxes I suppose...keep, toss, flea market, pass-it-on's, craft supplies, etc...

I suppose that means another trip to Target for a few more crates.  I'm fairly certain that by the time we set up some permanent residence of sorts, Mister Man and I will have more plastic totes than we know what to do with...

...catch and release...

Clearly, I've been MIA for a few days.

Have you been checking in only to see that nothing new has made an appearance?

Has disappointment or curiosity taken over?

Worry not, this caffeinated is back on board and ready to play catch up once again. :)

The end of last week was chaotic for a number of reasons and left me little time to check in with my keyboard.  And then came the weekend.  The weekend away!  Bags packed, Mister Man hyped...and off we went...to Philadelphia, P.A.

For some reason, when it came time to replace my last outdated, nonfunctional computer several years back I opted for a desktop without even considering a notebook.  Honestly, I think I must have just blanked out the existence of portable computers completely during that time!  How else to explain purposely tying myself down to a fixed location whenever I need the computer?  And as you can well imagine, I've yet to upgrade my phone to one on which I maintain an online presence.  (Heck, confession time...my cellphone doesn't even take/send/receive pictures!  Oh, so last century am I!)

Which is yet another reason why my carrying a planner with me everywhere and at all times comes in handy.  So all those of you who know me in real life and can't resist a jab at my ginormous wallet, take note.  That thing not only keeps my life in order and Mister Man's as well, it also serves as my one-stop daily log.  It's not without merit to suppose that someday in the far distant future some highly developed future-man will find one of my wallets buried beneath the sands of time and be able to recreate an accurate depiction of life as I knew it!  At any rate, thanks to said handy planner-wallet in one way (written) I was able to stay on top of my very own TTP Project, though in another (typed) I'm admittedly behind. 

So for the next 1/2 hour or so I'm solely devoting myself to copying over my TTP notes from notebook to desktop.  'Cause I'm just that devoted. ;)  Thanks for not complaining about my mini-desertion from blogland.  I'll try to come up with a suitable reward sometimes soon! 

Now where's my coffee?!?!?

...too tame a word...

I'm admittedly spinning my wheels right now...a veritable stormcloud of emotions...

I'm flip-flopping by the second between sorrow and fury and everything in between.

What's got me in a tizzy?

Mister Man got attacked on the bus ride home today. 

The girl who sits opposite him decided to up her game today, from poking fun at his name-appearance-intelligence to physically attacking him with the metal end of her seatbelt.  Repeatedly.  In the leg, and face.  And pinching him.

Let me digress for a moment...  This is hardly the first incident like this that we've dealt with this year.  There have been issues on the playground, the busline and the bus itself several times.  And I am losing my patience and restraint.

School policy requests parents to inform the appropriate school official and then wait patiently while the school launches an investigation into the incident.  The bus supervisor I spoke with directly after my son told me what had happened inquired as to whether I was comfortable with her speaking to my son tomorrow morning about the incident.   Agreeing, I wryly stated he's become all to accustomed to these sort of fact/discovery missions this year.

Here's the thing...Mister Man is an awesome amazing miracle boy.  In his young life he's overcome immense obstacles and lived through some pretty crappy drama.  He's never given in or given up...or lost any of his innocent kindness to others.  Those who know him speak of his immensely sympathetic nature and of his willingness to make others happy.  His autism makes things difficult on a daily basis, and yet he defies the odds and makes my heart soar.

I'm tired of this bullying crap.  I feel like that word 'bully' doesn't say it at all. It's far to tame a word for such vile behaviour.   Let's call them what they are...monsters.  Little malicious monsters who go out of their way to prey on someone else.  Criminals in the making...and in the act...because let's face it, what they are doing is considered criminal in an adult.

I may sound vicious in writing this...but I don't come close to being nearly as vicious as the children who have gone after my son this year. 

I'm so scared for him.  Scared that there will come a day where having a warrior for a Mami isn't enough...when my strength and love and comfort won't cover the pain he's suffered at the hands of his supposed peers. 

The news these days is full of parents nightmares as the damage these monsters do ends in depression and suicide attempts and worse. 

I'm scared. I'm furious and sad and defensive and comforting...but under it all, I'm scared for my son...

...slip-n-slide...

Oh boy, readers, was I ever right!  Mister Man and I both skidded down the length of the driveway this morning with umbrellas in tow and balance not so!  Thank goodness we were holding hands...I'm fairly certain that alone kept us mostly upright!  The ground here is just soaked through, so much so that the bottom of the driveway is taking on quick-sand qualities!

We've currently got several science projects in the works going on in and around the homefront.  For Christmas I gifted Mister Man with a grow your own crystals kit, and after a few months of putting it off finally got the first stage up and running.  We're currently observing the 8-10 day growth cycle of some faux amethyst.  (Yay-Mister Man's birthstone and one of my favourites!  I'm partial to emeralds, sapphires and amethysts!)  I was telling my sister about this on the phone and her response was priceless: "Oh, and then someday he can grow his Mami a whole necklace!"  Love! Mister Man is definitely totally all in on this experiment...he checks the bowl first thing in the morning, then again when he gets home, and right before bed.  I'm kicking myself though, because I really should have set him up with a notebook to journal any changes.  Ah well, next time!  We're both eagerly awaiting the end of the allotted time...and the next few stages ahead that involve growing a geode.  So cool!  Future paperweight, here we come!  In the meantime, we're measuring daily precipitation outside and then bringing those same containers in to measure evaporation inside.    

Mister Man is a a learning rockstar!  I am, of course, being modest. *wink*  He has, despite some pretty hefty odds, this utterly amazing love of learning and insatiable curiousity.  Hitting up google for answers to offbeat questions is my daily routine.  He asks awesome questions.  Too bad I don't often have the answers!  And he loves to take everything to the next level.  So if he begins to learn about something interesting at school he will come home wanting to keep going with it.  We make weekly treks to the library and leave with bags full.  And honestly...I love every minute of it! This was exactly what I wanted our life to be!

Of course, in the back of my head is that little niggling voice cautioning me that because he is so advanced, he might get bored.  And truthfully, we've already seen a lot of that this year in first grade.  My stance so far is that I don't really care if he's bored at school.  In the long term he's fostering a love of educating himself, and that's more important in my mind than whether or not he zones out in class when the teacher is reviewing juvenile facts and figures.  The caution is, I suppose, that if he's advancing to quickly then he may backslide at school because he's to bored to complete the guided tasks.  Don't get me wrong...I want him to excell in school...definitely.  But I won't stop encouraging him to dig deeper, or stop homeschooling him in more advanced areas, just because teacher says he's bored.  I'd rather pose to them the challenge of this avid reader, eager beaver child of mine and have them figure out new ways to challenge him!

Mister Man's awesome grandparents Omi and Grandad were generous enough to gift him an early birthday present in the form of paying for his next Mad Science course.  I wasn't to thrilled with this program when he took it in the fall, but he seemed to love it.  The subject matters are completely different for the spring sessions, and I can only hope that the instructor will be also.  The fall session was a fail for me mainly because the instructor was a foreigner with such a thick accent that the students could not understand most of the material she was presenting.  I think Mister Man was so psyched about it not because of any award-winning teaching on her part, but because of the weekly experiments he got to bring home and do with either Grandad or myself. 

I've also just signed this boy of mine up for the spring session of TOPSoccer...and I have to say I'm looking forward to returning to soccer mom mode so much!  By the end of the fall season I was completely in love with every single person on that field!  Loved the coach, and the assistant and every single high-school volunteer Buddy...all these amazing people gathered together in one place to bring joy to these kids of ours.  I also met a new special-needs mom friend there...so for that alone I have fond thoughts!  I'm totally excited though for the upcoming season, and can't wait to take Mister Man in for some new cleats and shinguards!  I'm making up a little certificate printout for his birthday, with the TOPSoccer spring session and all the gear he will need as one of his birthday gifts.  Little did I ever dream that I, of all people, would ever be a soccer mom! 

Meanwhile, said birthday is but a few days away!  It's the craziest thing in the world, to think that this baby of mine will be turning 8!!!   Mister Man has had a hard time of it this year in school, with bullying incidents (in which he was the victim) and daily depression over having no school friends (his autism symptoms seem to mark him as an outcast).  So this year rather than throwing a party where all those kids who are mean to him can come and have fun and eat good food (NO WAY!), we're keeping things simple the day of and then celebrating in a big way with a weekend trip to Philly to visit my sis/his aunt!  So this weekend we'll be cashing in all his birthday rewards at Build-a-Bear, Lego, Toys-r-Us, etc...  His Omi and Grandad are taking him to see The Wizard of OZ the day before his birthday as a special treat!  And on Monday, we'll be ringing in the 8th birthday of this phenomenal miracle boy with a birthday dinner at one of his favourite restaurants!  (See I get a gift also-the gift of not having to cook!)  The big gift this year, aside from the trip to Philly and the standard Transformers, will be a gift card for Disney.  He's desperate to go, and I think if in lieu of a ton of little stuff for his birthday and other upcoming holidays, I save up for the larger gift cards (which can be redeemed towards tickets!) then I might just be able to make it happen next winter!  So now I'm just trying to figure out how to re-create the commercial vibe, where the kid opens the envelope and a whole celebration bursts out.  I'm thinking helium balloons and streamers inside a cardboard box might work well?!?

Alrighty...time to run...can't keep my espresso machine waiting...she'd think it impolite! :)

...it's in the way...

Mister Man has had a difficult day at school today.

I know this before I ask him how his day went, or read the daily log sheet in his bookbag.

I know this before he tells me, or even looks me in the eye.

I know this because it's in the way he reaches out for my hand as he steps off the schoolbus.

And knowing it, I offer him my whole hand to clench as tightly as he can while we slowly make our way up the driveway...up the steps...into the house...and under the fort we've made over his bed. 

It's not until he grabs his faithful friend Henry with his other hand and curls up in ball around him that his fingers loosen.  And he slowly looks up and meets my eyes and tells me he still has no friends.

And while my heart breaks anew my fingers tighten around his...my grip becomes firmer and stronger and full of unspoken words... and I know my love is in the way I hold his hand.

...if it's not one thing...

TGI-Weekend!!!

This week has been killer...if it's not one thing, then surely it's another.  Mister Man had off from school on Monday for the holiday which already meant I had to rearrange my usual work-week schedule.  Tuesday morning at the crack of dawn my phone rang to inform us that it would be a snow day.  Mister man?  Delighted!  Mami?  Stressed out!  By Wednesday afternoon I was falling victim to the bug Mister Man had last week.  And Friday's snow day repeat only added to the mess.

Waaaaaah! 

So here I am...beyond belated in posting, well, anything.  My head is all poundy and dizzy, my nose is all stuffy, and I swear if I look at anything for to long it starts swimming across my vision. Ugh!

The good news?  I wrote down my daily TTP posts in my carry-along journal.  So if and when I catch a real break this weekend, I can get around to posting them. 

In the meantime I encourage you to check out some of the fabulousity over on my blogroll.  Yep...go ahead...go read somewhere else...cause we both know there's nothing of interest to read here right now!



...cornering the market on common sense...

As I finished up this morning's blurb on MakeDos and reflected on the fact that someone somewhere was savvy enough to draw up a business plan based solely on selling both common place junk and common sense creativity all handily wrapped up in themed packs, it struck me that in order for the product to have been deemed sellable a market for that product must first exist.  Which means, simply put, that here was a product that existed because people the world over hadn't already had the bright idea to reuse-recycle-repurpose common discards as craft supplies, or game components or even toy robots and bathtub boats and  building blocks.

Hmm...whodathunkit... 

And here I've been doing just that all along.  

I suppose I always figured that mine were not original ideas.  That the daily routines and habits  and structures of living that I slogged through were just bits and pieces culled from some greater universal list of components. 

Pick some from column A, choose some from column B.  

Drink coffee or drink tea.

Omnivore or vegan.

Tosser or keeper. 

And then all of a sudden, clarity.  All the years spent funneling out advice and suggestions and tips...of helping friends brainstorm...of invariably seeking out budget savvy solutions...of altering recipes and inventing new ones...and every day spent making treasures from trash...  It's unique.  Uniquely me.  Uniquely mine.  The product of my singular original creative mind.  The commonplace that I live in is vastly different from everyone else's.  The normal everyday I live may very well be new to you.

This evening Mister Man flexed his brain with another round of Lego Creationary at his grandparents' house and once again I was struck by the commonplace-commonsense of it all.  Column A and Column B melded the old standard Pictionary with the sort of inventive Lego building that I see everyday from my son and made themselves a new hit!  A moneymaking hit at that!

Good gracious!

Just think about it.  How many times has a new product hit the market and you've exclaimed 'I thought of that' or 'I made something like that' or even 'I've been doing that for years'?  And to think that there are actually people out there who've managed to convince someone to buy those very same ideas! 

It definitely makes me wonder what treasures may be lurking undiscovered in my daily life. 

How about you? 

Perhaps it's time to write that book after all....

Or at the very least, create one new orginal piece of something and assign it a value.

In this day and age of financial instability it may just be that entrepreneurship is the safest way to travel.  Why not corner the market on your own common sense?  It's certain to be new to someone!

...all the other dads were doing it...

In between bouts of shivering, shoveling and scraping (ice scraping that is) yesterday, we hit the slopes for some sledding while the snow is still deep enough to sled upon.  We were lucky enough to have with us one of the relics of days gone by, an antique wooden sled with runners and front steering.  What fun!  Had Mister Man but been in muted snowgear it would no doubt have made for a lovely vintage-themed photo shoot.  Instead, he sported a miscellany of mismatched snowgear...clashy but warm (unlike his fashionably frigid Mami) as he coasted down the hill at record speeds.  All those kids in saucers and rafts and plastic paraphernalia were eating his dust!  I'm definitely making it my shopping mission to seek out and buy him a sled like the one we got to use, before next winter.

    Despite several requests, this Mami declined any trips downhill and remained shivery but stalwart on the crest of the hill while my son dove headlong into winter fun. 

There was one family in particular that garnered our attention as they also sported a wooden sled.  The father noticed us right away and declared his joy that someone else had a real sled also.  His son and Mister Man ran a few races down the hill together and he ever so kindly spent some time aligning our runners and scraping off some excess rust.  What a sweetheart!  So rarely do people seek out ways to be helpful and yet here he was, taking the time to help us get the maximum joy out of the sledding experience.  And let me tell you, this man definitely took his sledding expedition seriously.  He had several antique sleds of different styles, full-on winter proof apparel and a contagiously chipper outlook.  I think it's safe to say he spent as much time on the sleds, if not more, as his children did!

After as long as I could stand the shiveries we finally called it quits for the day (of course promises to repeat were offered up!) and headed home.  On the way home Mister Man piped up from the backseat, questioning why I hadn't traded off rides downhill with him.  I answered matter-of-factly that I had not dressed appropriately and was to cold to even consider getting up close and personal with the snow.  That answer was not good enough though.  So the question was repeated, my answer reworded...and then...silence...for a minute or so.  Mister Man spoke up again, saying "But all the other Dads were doing it..."

And there you have it...in the eyes of my son, I'm both. 

I'm Mami, for sure, all the time.

But when needed or noticed, I'm Dad to. 

A challenge I set for myself when first I became a single parent to (to my best abilities) cover both roles as needed seems to have been realized.   

It's not so much the lack of a dad as the presence of an all-encompassing Mami.