The Flaming Baby Doll

My mom was an adventurer when I was little.  She used to wake us up at 4 in the morning and head out on an adventure!  We drove everywhere...  California, the Black Hills, Mt. Rushmore, Maryland, Florida, Texas, New York, Niagra Falls...It was always so much fun because my mom would see a sign or a billboard and stop at various places just because they looked fun.
My mom got this trait honestly because my grandma and my aunt were the same way.  They loved to travel at the drop of a hat.  On one trip to Texas, my mom, grandma and aunt were sitting around the kitchen table as they often did and they decided that they wanted to take us to New Orleans.  I was so excited!  I had never been there before and I couldn't wait.
When I was excited, I was often hard to manage, asking a million questions from the back seat.  Because of this, my mom and grandma had me sit on the hump in the middle of the front seat.  The windows were open and I got to listen to the ongoing conversation between my mom and her mom.  I was actually quite entertained.  I sat still with my baby doll in my arms, looking out the window and daydreamed about my imaginary friend, friend giant (that's another story).
My mom and grandma were smoking as they talked, waving their hands around as they always did.  My grandma was trying to make a point with her hand gestures and...   OH NO!!!!   I first noticed the situation when I smelled the strong, terrible smell of burning plastic!  My baby doll's hair had gotten too close to grandma's cigarette and it was ON FIRE!!!
"Help!" I screamed.  "Help my baby!!!"  As soon as my grandma saw my baby doll, she grabbed her and tossed her right out the window!  I crawled into the back seat and watched my burning baby until she became a little dot in the distance, crying the whole way.  I never understood how my grandma could throw my baby out the window, but now I smile wondering if I would do the exact same thing.  :)

C-A-N-D-Y Newspaper

I absolutely loved to visit my grandparents when I was little.  I didn't get to see them very often since they were in Texas and I lived in Ohio.  We made a trip every summer though.  It was important to my mom that we knew our grandparents.  In between visits, we would talk on the phone often.  My brother, sister and I would run to the phone to be the first to answer.  My grandpa always teased me, calling himself "bad grandpa".  I would argue with him over and over again, giggling as we played.  His special name for me was Stick in the Mud.  I didn't know until years later that he called me that because I was a stubborn little thing.
When we drove to Texas we would usually drive until we got there.  It was an 18 hour drive.  I always slept a lot because my mom told me that it would make the trip go faster (or maybe because of the dramomine she gave me).
The excitement would build as we drove down their street.  You could almost cut the enthusiasm with a knife.  As soon as we pulled into the drive, my brother, sister and I would burst from the van to be the first to knock on the door.  Sometimes we tried to trick our grandparents by pretending to sell something, thinking that they surely wouldn't recognize us after a whole year!  :)  They always played along, followed by exclamations over how much we had grown.
We had many traditions in Texas, but my very favorite one was C-A-N-D-Y newspaper.  My grandpa LOVED sugar more than anything and he would spell out the word candy, pretending that we were tricking my grandma.  The funny thing is that when I was really little, I really thought we were pulling one over on grandma!  Grandpa would tell us to hurry to the car before grandma figured out what we were really doing!  Squeals of delight would follow us out to the car.  My grandpa would drive up to the corner store, buy a paper (our cover) and let us pick out our favorite candy.
It doesn't sound like a lot, but getting our super secret candy with grandpa was such a treat for my siblings and me.  I am glad that I didn't know grandma knew until later.  The thrill of time with grandpa and tricking grandma was just so much fun.

CAWP

I participated in my first full Twitter chat this evening.  It was really fun and I was thrilled to have been able to follow along throughout the entire chat.  These things just aren't that easy for me.  :)  Not at first anyway...  Participating in the chat made me remember my time with the Columbus Area Writing Project.  If you don't know what that is, it is a group of teachers who gather together for professional development.  The whole idea for me was that I wanted to be a teacher who was a writer so that I could be present as a writer in the classroom.  I was going to grow as a teacher and unexpectedly grew as a human being.  

Up until this experience, I had never been in a group of teachers with different backgrounds.  That was very interesting.  I was there as a kindergarten teacher and everyone else was (I think) 4th grade or higher.  That's the really cool thing about writing.  You don't have to be from the same background or experience for it to be relevant to you.  If you really understand that writing is a process and you are ready to look at it at that level, it doesn't matter who you look at it with.  

My time with the Columbus Area Writing Project began with a retreat at Kenyon College.  Kenyon is in a beautiful setting near Mt. Vernon, Ohio.  I was paired up with another woman who quickly became my friend.  When our group would meet (on the 4th floor), we met in a large room with a huge table in the middle of the room.  We all sat around the table and would talk to those around us.  Dave, Robin, Kevin and Melissa were leading our group and they quickly engaged us in writing opportunities that allowed us to get to know each other.  This was an experience that was different from anything I had ever experienced.  The writing we shared elicited different responses from the audience.  Some laughed while others cried.  This new group was like an onion and the writing was beginning to peel the layers back to expose something we didn't even know we had... a community of writers or the writer within.  

For me, it was Gretchen's story of love and loss that really drew our group together and made us a community.  We had all been asked to walk about the campus and think about who had been there, what had happened there or the possibilities of both.  I can't remember Gretchen's story exactly, but I do know that as she read, everyone sat a little straighter, looking, listening, laughing.  It was the moment when all of the writers had arrived.  

The thing that I loved the most about it was that it was very personalized.  The teachers/facilitators would present an opportunity for thought for our writing but we could take it where ever we wanted to go and in the way in which we chose.  We could write a story, a poem...  The container for the writing didn't matter.   I loved meeting with my group, sharing writing and stretching and being stretched.  I would love to be able to explain how it all was done, but I just can't capture it.  Kevin, Dave, Melissa and Robin moved in and out of teacher, facilitator, writer, and friend throughout the entire process.  I never would have become who I am today without the experience of the Columbus Area Writing Project.  I am eternally grateful.

The Creek

It had been raining for days and I was absolutely itching to go outside.  I typically spent the day, all day, at the pool and the three looooong days of rain and thunderstorms made me feel trapped in my own house!  I was kneeling on the living room sofa, watching each drop of rain slide down the glass when I noticed the sun peaking through the clouds.  "Mom!  Mom!" I called.  "The sun is shining!  Can I go to the pool?"  I think that my mom wanted me out of the house just as much as I wanted to go so she of course said yes and off I went.
I skipped down the hill to our neighborhood pool, towel over my arm and a smile on my face.  As I rounded the corner of the tree line I could hear laughter and splashing.  The sounds lured me in, curious...  As soon as I could see the bridge over the creek, I knew I had to join the fun!  There were several children teetering on the bridge railing over the flooding waters of the creek below.  Their shouts of joy sent excitement shooting through my body.  I loved the water and I loved adventure!
I heard my mother's voice in my head warning me of every bad thing that could happen if I jumped...  I considered turning around or moving along to the pool, but only for a moment.
I watched the other children climb up, jump off and yell out in sheer joy!  I saw their heads bobbing through the rapids of this little creek, catching onto a large tree that had fallen  during the storms.  To get out they had to wrap their arms around the tree, throw a leg up and slide over the moss covered trunk.  No problem!
As my turn approached, I became a little nervous.  What if I didn't catch onto the tree?  What if I hit my head on a rock?  What if I got hurt or died?  All of these things were running through my head.  I didn't care though.  This looked like so much fun and how likely was it that I would get hurt the first time I tried it, right?
I put my little hands on the top of the rail, hoisting myself onto the ledge.  I almost lost my balance one but caught myself.  The cheers of the other kids was giving me confidence that I am not sure I would have had on my own.  As I watched the swirling, rushing water below, I jumped far and high into the air.  I heard in the distance, "DEBRA LEE!!!!!!" Then the water was covering my ears, my eyes, pulling my body downstream faster than I thought it could.  I could see the fallen tree, my life raft, only briefly as I swirled around in the brown, murky creek water.
Just as I reached the tree, I felt a swift jerk on my shirt and I was suddenly not in the water anymore. My name had been screamed by my mother as she saw her daring, brave, stupid child jump into dangerous, post storm waters with wild abandon.  Now I was being pulled from the water with the adrenaline fueled fear of my mother.  "What were you thinking?" she screamed.  I was about to answer when I realized that she wasn't really asking a question.  The seat burning spanks started at the creek and continued all the way home.  My day in the sun was over....

The Tunnel

I grew up in the best neighborhood in the world!  I loved it there!  I was never bored and always managed to find an adventure or two.  One of my favorite things to do was to play in the creek.  It wasn't a very big creek, but it was visited by many.  I remember venturing either upstream or down, looking for treasures, creatures or just all around fun!  I loved the little water spiders that kept me company on my many adventures.

My mom didn't really like that there was a tunnel at the end of the creek where teenagers hung out.  She didn't want me to go down there and knowing me and my quest for adventure, she has to make me feel like I COULDN"T go down there.  :)  She told me that there were holes in the tunnel and that if you fell into one, it was very deep and probably went straight to hell.  

I guess that I should probably tell you that my mom was raised in a boarding school by nuns.  The reference to hell sounds cruel, but it was a big part of my upbringing.  

I am sure that my mom meant to keep me safe, but this time, the danger of falling into a pit straight to hell wasn't going to work.  :)  My friend and I decided that we were going to see what this forbidden tunnel was all about.  It was a very exciting adventure!  We waded in the water, stepping on stones and listening to the calm trickling of the stream as we moved toward our destination.  

As we entered the tunnel, we noticed that there were many spray painted words and pictures.  We stood staring at the entrance in awe.  I lived in a suburb, so grafiti wasn't even a part of my vocabulary.  The tunnel was very ominous looking, dark and forbidden.  My friend and I eased in, walking slowly and checking under our feet for especially deep looking water.  Not far in, we saw a dark black hole of water...

The hair on the back of my neck stood up and I swear I thought I felt a breeze that hadn't been there before.  Our pace slowed a bit the further we got in.  Our steps were more careful.  When we were almost to the middle of the tunnel, we saw the scariest painting we had ever seen.  It was the head of the devil, staring at us, daring us to go further...  

My friend and I were NOT playing around with that!  We turned and ran all the way home!  We did finally make it to the other side of the tunnel eventually, but it took many many trips down that dark corridor before we finally had the nerve.  :)

You just never know...

I just got on my blog after a very long hiatus and reread my last post.  The last time I wrote, Emma was leaving for college and Connor was struggling with his illness.  It really wasn't that long ago, but things sure have changed.  :)  Connor is doing really really well!  :)  It has been a long road that is certainly not over, but we are in a really good place right now.  He is working and going to school, smiling and laughing and pretty much a typical teenager.  Some people would cringe at those words...  "typical teenager".  Not me.  I am so so grateful for those words!  You have no idea how lucky you are until you aren't.  I wrote about Emma leaving for college last time too.  Well, that has changed too.  Emma came home for Christmas break and just didn't seem like herself.  I was really worried.  Like any mother would do, I climbed into her bed with her one morning and asked her what was wrong.  She wasn't happy and that broke my heart.  I have to say that I would have expected myself to tell her to go back to school and give it another try, but I didn't.  I told her to come home, give herself the gift of time and figure out what her passion for life is...  I am so glad that I did!  :)  Emma is home and she is thankfully herself again.  She just wasn't ready to leave home yet and that's ok.  I used to teach kindergarten and so many parents are in such a hurry with their children.  They want them in kindergarten, moving fast, growing by leaps and bounds.  I know a lot of people who have told me that they struggled in reading or in math when they were a kid and you know what?  Each one of them is a very successful, thriving adult.  :)  I think it's ok to slow down and I am so glad I felt comfortable telling my daughter that she should take care of herself, body, mind and spirit. I'm not going to lie... I'm thrilled that she is home!

Fickle Feelings

I took my daughter, Emma to her University today so that she could open a bank account.  I was really looking forward to the trip.  The three Lairson girls were heading out for an adventure!  I planned to have the windows down and the music loud so that we could sing at the top of our lungs, which is something that we typically love to do. 
We left a little late, but I was not worried.  I rolled down the windows and cranked up the tunes.  Emma put in her ear buds and started reading a book.  I pulled her ear buds out five or six times until she finally realized I wasn't going to leave her alone.  :)  FINALLY, we were singing and enjoying each others company.  :)  It was a great ride.
I am so happy for Emma and her looming independence, but I am SO SAD.  I have three children and a family of five.  I love my family of five.  I lived for having children and I don't want it to end!  I know that she is not leaving our family, but she IS leaving our home and I had no idea how much this would HURT!  I'm not just sad about Emma leaving.  I am sad that I won't get to witness my three children interacting with each other.  They can be so goofy and fun.  They make me smile and fill my heart until it is almost bursting. 
I know that we will still have fun, but nothing will ever be the same.  So my happy/sad/excited/scared feelings will continue to roll, I am sure...  Children growing up is so exciting, but the separation is so difficult. 
My friends assure me that it gets easier.  Thank goodness I am surrounded by wonderful women with waiting arms for the hugs that I need and the words of wisdom from their own experiences...