notes on Sunday

I pick Beach up at 10:00 am from a sleep-over still in my workout clothes, still needing a shower. 

I am running late because it's BC birthday.  I made him a special breakfast and then spent a half hour helping him set up a new email account for his new side business selling live edge juniper slabs.

Only after he left did I see the flat front tire on my car. 

Beach climbs into BC's truck loaded with bags, some new Tupperware, and a gallon of glue.  She stops talking about her night of fun only long enough for me to explain the truck.

From the sleep-over we head to get Sophie who had spent the night at the home of another teammate so she could accompany yet another teammate acting as the driver for the first teammate for a school dance date.  I could try to explain that again but it doesn't get any clearer other than apparently, gymnasts date in squads.

They take team seriously. So seriously that it happens to be the reason for getting Sophie. Beach was invited to go climbing at an indoor climbing gym....by a boy.  And along with the other things Beach needed, shoes, a harness, a signed waiver, she also needed Sophie. Team.

Between pick up and drop off I take the girls home.  They snack and get ready.  I brown an elk roast and bake a cake for BC's birthday.  Then we load back up in BC's truck and drive back across the valley to the climbing gym.

I get them checked in before the boy arrives.  I slip out promising to go home and shower and get dressed in case Beach wants to offer the boy a ride home.

I do shower.  I frost a cake. I clean the kitchen so that it looks like the cake and the elk dinner magical sprang up from nothing.  Then I wait for the phone call calling me back across the valley for a pick up.

Between the driving the air is silent.  I like this part of parenting.  The part where I get to stand back and watch her go.  The part where after she has been gone, she comes back.  She's growing up but she's doing it slowly. 

Yesterday we went dress shopping.  Me and my 2 beautiful daughters.  It's not a normal thing for me to do.  About as odd as me behind the wheel of BC's big truck driving around the city.  But the shopping was fun and I have to admit the truck has it's advantages.

Images of Beach slipping out of the dressing room in a tiny, lacey blue dress pop into my mind. I know Beach doesn't think she is beautiful. She thinks her nose is too big and her eyes are too small. Part of it is her beauty isn't commercial.  Part of it is no one tells her she is beautiful- but that's because she has so many amazing qualities no one has time to waste on her looks.  She believes the silence is the confirmation of what she sees in the mirror.

She has no idea what she is.  I believe though, that one day she will.  

There was moment while out shopping when a mom with her two daughters entered the dressing rooms.  Her daughter's were big girls, awkward, and over-colored with make up and hair dye. I actually found myself praying Beach wouldn't step out into the room wearing one of the little cocktail style dresses I knew she was trying on. 

These other daughters were struggling with their own mirrors. I listened to what they were saying as they tugged and smoothed unforgiving cotton clothing. Their mother sweet and happy, pulling them along.   

Right or wrong, I related to them.  I knew what would happen if Beach with her long legs, her thin waist, and her lean arms opened the door.  Blonde hair, brown eyes, and pink cheeks, she would smile and spin; 8 going on 18.  She would somehow be bold and shy at the same time.  She would be magical.       

When she did step out the other girls were gone.  And she did look just as I knew she would. 

While I am thinking about that moment the girls call for their ride.  I drive across town once again.  I pick them up, boy included.  I introduce myself then add, "Sorry about the truck, it's not mine, it's her dad's."  The boy sits between tools, knives, and a full size compressor.  I can tell he feels as if he is sitting in her dad's lap. I feel bad for him and I file away this perfect moment for later.

On the freeway, a middle aged woman with spider silk hair wearing cowboy boots darts out into traffic.  She stands in the middle of the interstate as a row of busy onlookers try to get her out of harms way.  Whatever is happening looks to be in the second act.  

We slow down to pass. The cars move in a seamless single line off the side of the road to avoid becoming entangled in the drama unfolding.

The woman dances from lane to lane like she is playing a game. Then she vanishes in the rear view mirror.

We drive the boy the rest of the way home.  After he exits the girls tell me all... including how 2 more of their teammates found them and joined them for after climbing frozen yogurt.

From the backseat Beach sighs, "I hope he was okay.  He was kind of the odd man out."

It is Sunday.  It is the first weekend in March.  The sun wrinkles in through BC's road worn windshield.  At home a elk roast is simmer away.  An orange colored hunting shirt sits on the kitchen table in a bag that says "Happy Birthday!"  A carrot cake wrapped in white cream cheese frosting, the top dotted with walnuts waits for 47 candles.     

"Beach, that 14 year old boy was out today with 4 beautiful girls. I think he is okay," I say knowing we still have a long road to travel together before she goes on her way.

travel meet, heading home

now reading, The Burgess Boys

team-nastics

Northern Lights 2018 GTC Level 9 Team 1st Place

Beach's personal meet was a rough one.  All her warm ups looked great but when it came time to compete she ran into trouble on each event. It's all part of the package. Gymnastics is a sport that has more lessons than anyone person has time to learn. 

We've agreed (in jest) to never speak of this meet again. That was right after Beach turned to me and said, "I am glad to have had this experience so I can be a better teammate.  It wasn't easy but I am glad to understand what this is like. I know it wasn't good gymnastics but... it was good something."

Then she laughed and repeated a line we joke about all the time when we need a little prospective. It comes from a story Coach Lindsay tells about a meet she had as a gymnast. A meet a lot like the one Beach just had. After the meet Lindsay's mom who was a supportive, loving mom all through Lindsay's gym days tried to pull Lindsay before awards. When Lindsay protested her mom exasperated blurted out, "You think you're getting any?!"

It's raining this morning in Minneapolis. When the rain breaks we will walk once more the couple of blocks over to the convention center.  This time with all our luggage in tow. Watch their teammates who made it to finals. Way to go GTC!!! After that we will make our way to the airport and fly home. 

Northern Lights

Step One, Day One: SLC International Airport.

Step Two: Minneapolis, Minnesota.

Adventures in Airbnb

 Day Two: play all the waiting games.

Paparazzi row watching the Level 8's

Downtown Minneapolis

Pool and Poker Gym Family Game Night

 Day Three: Meet Morning Minneapolis, Minnesota. 

Hello. I am a mom and it's my birthday...

Yep. I am 45 today! Go Me! 

In the words of my own mom, "I am sorry you are so old."

It's okay because I started this adult-mom thing so long ago so I am actually pretty damn young. I mean I am not only a mom, I am a grandma.

But that isn't the point.  The point is I am in my pajamas watching the news, drinking coffee that I made from a kitchen I cleaned and I will have cleaned 3 or 4 mores times before this day celebrating my special day ends.

No one is going to make me breakfast, well maybe Beach will try.  She will make me pancakes from the batter she made herself pancakes yesterday that she put in a questionable jar in the fridge.   

I will eat them and smile through the headache the fake syrup and white flour gives me. 

Now that I think about it I would love to go to McDonald's and get myself a sausage biscuit and 2 hash browns like my sister and I used to do every morning on our way to skip school together. 

But I am a mom.  I don't think I am not supposed to like McDonald's breakfast.  It's been so long since I had one I probably don't.  I know I don't want pancakes.  I would rather have a spoonful of peanut butter from a spoon that will later come out of the dishwasher with the same amount of peanut butter scum it went in with.

I had planned to ski on my special day but my car has been overheating when it goes uphill.  BC assures me it is a total mystery but not to worry because it's not a problem unless I want to go, well, UP anywhere.  And besides, he went skiing yesterday so he supposes if wanted to borrow his truck that he needs for work today... yeah I will pass on driving his giant truck up the tiny canyon to get in a few runs before having to come back to take Beach to gym because he can't BECAUSE he skied yesterday and so he needs to work today.

Clearly I should have planned my birthday with a little more consideration for him.  

I do have an alternate plan to spoil myself though. I am going to go to Home Depo and buy a box of self adhesive tiles to retile our bathroom. 

Yep. That's never going to happen. 

The box is only $33.50 and it is in stock.  I checked.  There was a way to make sure one box is enough but that requires measuring so I am going to go with sure one will work why not? It's one bathroom.  

I would also need to buy a razor knife because asking BC for his would cause suspicion.  My plan is to rip up the 4 year old temporary floor installed by my father-in-law and Fisher while taking instruction from Colby via cell phone that year or so he lived in Moab building a house.  In case you didn't know he is contractor.

Okay, so then I have a strategy for how I am going to go around the toilet base and the way I want the lines to fall.  My plan is pretty awesome, even seems simple in my mind.  However, I am blessed with logic and I can see the tragic end result. 

Can I make the floor in there any worse than it is?

Yes, yes I can.  I should also not do the kitchen floor...

So instead I am going to see a movie, except all the movies I wanted to see are so old that they have fallen into that grey space between the big screen and red box and if there was another one I might like I can't remember what the fuck it would be.

Okay I will do lunch.  Can't do lunch BC accepted a tending job for Beach at 11 on my Birthday for one of our old neighbors.  How out of character proactive of him.  She, the mom, is an adorable 23 year old vegan who doesn't wear a bra. Interesting, I wonder why he did that without asking me if that was okay?  It's not okay but okay. Yeah, babysitting! 

So after I sit around cleaning the house all day and drive Beach to gym I will go.... do what? Binge Netflix's? Fold laundry? I know cook myself a birthday dinner! 

And a cake because if I don't have a cake Beach will be sad. I don't really want a cake but whatever.  What are more dishes to wash and more pounds to lose?

Sweet.  What kind of cake do they want me to have?

While I am at it what do I want for dinner? French Fries!!!

Yeah, so I am probably not going to have, buy, or make French Fries. 

Okay, actually, I probably am- but it will be in my car as I am driving.  I will have to hide the greasy bag in the trash when I get home because I didn't share.  And I will drive the freeway with the window downs to blow out the smell but yes, there will be fries on my birthday. 

Fries followed by cardio ballet!... that is if BC isn't home and if I have time between making dinner and driving to and from gym, baking myself a cake, and not retitling the bathroom or the kitchen floors. 

Wait, did I decided yet what I am cooking for my family for dinner for my birthday?  What's easy to clean up?  

You know what? It sounds like I have a lot to do today!  I better stop wasting the morning and go get dressed so I don't ruin my special day for my family. 

I wouldn't have it any other way.... that's what I am suppose to say, I am a mom <3 

winter driving

Have I told you about the family living in their van in our driveway?

No?

I didn't think so.  Maybe that's because they don't live there all the time.  Or maybe because I am embarrassed for of them.  Perhaps I think them being so near to us says something about us.

They lost their house this fall to an inflated rental market.  It sold right from under them.  They lost their chance to get a new place to stay because of a past eviction on their record.  We never thought they would go all winter but they have.

Sure most of the time they aren't huddled in their van right outside our front door.  For starters he works everyday, their son goes to school and stays with friends.  I don't know what she does but they move around a lot.  We go weeks without seeing them. 

When it gets cold and they need somewhere to plug in the small generate that is somehow related to how they stay warm (I don't know the details because it seems rude to ask) they come back to us.

I do have so many questions though. The etiquette for this sort of thing is awkward at best.  Do you wave happily when passing by them to take out the trash, as you would when you see other neighbors? Hello there, I am just living in a house over here making trash and all, you know being normal.  We even have recycling too but I will wait to take that out later, now just seems too soon.

Do you knock to say "Hello" or Good-bye"? Yes, hello van people, this me walking into my house...and out of my house...and back into my house with bags of food that I bought at the store...then out again to go to work....and back to go to sleep...I know it seems super simple but actually it is a little bit harder now that you are parked in our little driveway and I have to step into the garden to get around you, and the day it snowed all day?! that really sucked getting plowed in on the street but don't worry about it because, um, well, it's nothing compared to what you are going through...so...yeah.        

I know they don't want to be invited in to stay.  We do have an open room.  They won't take it.  We have offered the use of our bathrooms.  That too seems untaken. 

On the days their van is parked in our driveway I walk around my imperfect kitchen wiping up crumbs my family is blind to.  It keeps me busy in the way it keeps all women who sweep dirt floors busy.

I am always aware of them being out there even though I have long since given up on asking BC to explain it to me one more time how they can live like that.

I wonder about them with the same amazement that attracts me to abandoned buildings.  There was a point, a very final moment, when the last person closed the door and walked away forever.  What was that moment like? What tipped the scale?  What forces could draw the line between I live here, this is mine, and nothing.  Who leaves a house?        

But they aren't buildings.  They aren't make of bricks and timber.  They are people: abandoned people.  

They live in a van with makeshift curtains and a pallet bed.  They move from place to place looking to be left alone.

We do that, we leave them alone because there are rules about trespassing.