College Football Game Day

Youngest and I had an almost perfect Saturday. Perfect would have been if Husband, Oldest, and Middle had been there too, but truth be told...it was kind of nice just the two of us.

Grandpa's Purdue football tickets were ours--he was out of town. Sometimes one or the other of us gets to go with Grandpa, and when he's not able to go, we trade off who gets the tickets. If the tickets end up at our house, it's almost always me and one of the kids. And there are rituals to be observed.

We get up early and eat a little, but not too much. We stop about an hour away from the stadium for breakfast sandwiches to go and turn the radio dial to the pre game show as we head on down the road. We park where Grandpa has parked for years, up the hill from the stadium in a wooded neighborhood. Youngest has the best memory for where we leave the car.

We walk down the hill, going slowly past any tailgate that smells good and always hope that we get to the stadium gates in time to see the band arrive and play the fight song. And beat the world's largest drum.

After the band moves on, we pull out our tickets and move toward our gate. By this time, the music playing from inside the stadium and the growing crowds have us grinning ear to ear and walking more quickly.

When we get into the stadium, we face the climb to our seats--3 rows from the top of Ross Ade Stadium. It's a long climb, but we can see the whole field clearly. That makes it a lot easier to make our own coaching or officiating calls.

We watch the seats fill as we wait for the team to take the field--the train whistle, the flags, Purdue Pete, and our Boiler boys taking the field...awesome way to spend a Saturday. We cheer and groan and chant and sing the fight song.

The best days, of course, are when we get a win. But either way, on the hike back up the hill to find the car, the discussion almost always turns to what kind of ice cream sundae we'll get at Hap's on the way home. Hap's is a tradition started by Grandpa, and one we're a little afraid to break. The sundaes are huge and the menu for them is too--around 80-some options. Whether we're celebrating a victory or drowning our sorrows, the trip doesn't quite feel complete without stopping here. Besides the ice cream, they have little electric trains that run on tracks near the ceiling. What Boilermaker wouldn't love a place with a train?

At the end of the day, we drag ourselves into the house. For us, the drive to and from is longer than the game. But worth it. Completely worth it.

Boiler Up! Hammer Down!

Jobs

The backpacks dropped on the floor just inside the door near the bottom of the stairs are heavy.
I keep stubbing my toes on them, pausing to cast a disappointed look at the basket sitting empty
beside them;
it is the job of this basket to corral the backpacks.

The breakfast dishes from each morning greet me at the end of each long day.
I cringe at the bits of dried-on food, trying in vain to avoid noticing the mostly empty dishwasher sitting
inches away;
it is the job of this machine to keep dishes out of sight.

The laundry basket sits tipped on one side just inside the door of the tiny laundry room.
I cannot open the door to get to the dryer without a complicated dance with the door
and the pile of clean clothes;
it is the job of this basket to contain those clothes.

The refrigerator packed full with food just two days ago appears alarmingly empty again.
I fill it regularly, making sure that there is food to feed five hungry people for at least
one work week;
it is the job of the refrigerator to be full of food.

All these undone jobs mock me as I walk from room to room day in and day out.
I issue clear reminders, simplifying as much as possible so there is no
confusion over what to do;
it is my job to see the jobs get done.

Another First Day

The kids start school tomorrow.
         Can you find your other shoe?
I've been back for two days.
        What do you mean, "what other shoe?!"
I'm already worn out, but somehow still energized.
        Eeew! what is in this backpack?
Summer seemed shorter this year.
        Hey--use soap. You need to smell clean for tomorrow.
I think we're all looking forward to a consistent routine.
        Did you set your alarm? Really?
I know the kids are glad to go back....mostly.
        I know you think you know where your key is...where is it really?
Tomorrow morning we'll all be excited; tomorrow evening, exhausted.
        Why are you still up? Go to bed! Yes, I know it's still light outside.
Tomorrow is another first day.
        Yeah, I know. I'm excited too.

7 sets per second

Did you know Lego sells 7 sets every second? Yep, for real.
I know this because Husband got an email from Lego today. He loves Legos. A lot. So do Oldest, Middle, and Youngest. We probably have enough Lego sets at our house to qualify as a small store.

The email came because Husband and Youngest were putting together a 1,000+ piece set last night and there was 1 white piece missing. Over 1,000 pieces put together and 1 not there. They called Lego (did you know you can get a real person at Lego at 9pm?) and were told a new piece would be sent out right away. The confirmation email that came today included the fact. Seven sets per second. That's a lot of Legos.

My dining room table currently doubles as a display space for the most recently assembled pieces, and Husband's office has several more. Lego sculptures adorn spaces here and there around our home--some are sets imagined and created by Lego, and others were crafted by my own team of visionary Lego experts who live and work right here.

Our basement holds tubs of Legos--some sorted by set, but many dumped together into large containers meant to store things like bed linens or winter clothes. They don't stay in storage; they are periodically brought upstairs to litter one room or another for a day or a week or so.  Oldest has dumped multiple boxes of Legos out on the floor of his room. He's been sorting for days. Youngest started to do the same, but lost steam. Or maybe interest. He did build a really cool......something. I don't know what's happened to the sets in Middle's room. Over time all 3 have created buildings, spaceships, castles, forts, room layouts, cars, planes and lots of other stuff, all full of extraordinary detail.

Our front room was once carpeted with Harry Potter Legos for over 2 months. There are a lot of Harry Potter sets at our house, and they were all out at once. I shudder to think about the lack of opportunity for vacuuming, but have wonderful pictures of Husband and kids surrounded by piles of brightly colored blocks, sorting and building together. We all worked on it--it was a big project. We never really finished, but with Legos, can you ever really finish? I'm not sure.

On our trip this summer, a much-anticipated destination was the Lego store in Mall of America. If you've never seen it, you really are missing something. There are stunning models that can be seen from inside the first floor store, but even better from the second level of the mall. They are huge--larger than life huge. Even teenage Oldest was impressed. We visited the store several different times, waiting until the very end of the day to make purchasing decisions. I didn't watch the lady ring things up. Sometimes I'm better off not knowing.

What I do know is that Lego sells 7 sets per second, and we're a part of it.

Insulation

Today I read something a friend wrote in which she described me, along with others, as being insulated by books. I chuckled, but then realized that she's right. I do use books as insulation.

When things get too hectic and stress builds, I often insulate myself from the madness by rereading old favorites. It serves to create a familiar place in the middle of chaos and uncertainty.

When faced with long, cold winter days or steamy hot summers, I insulate myself from the elements by literally surrounding my favorite spot of the sofa with new reading material.

When there are appointments to keep and children to taxi to and from lessons, I insulate myself against the cracks in time by tucking a book or magazine into my large slouchy bag.

I use books as insulation all the time--to keep in the happy or ward off the stress, to keep my cool or warm my soul. Books temper me. They keep my mental and emotional climate stable. Books as insulation. Who knew?

BONS at my house

The BONS (my writing group) were at my house tonight. It was super fun and I love that they all came and stayed until late. We always leave feeling so energized. But I'm tired now--winding down--so this slice will be a short list of tonight's highlights.

1. making a meal out of our favorite cold appetizers and desserts
2. washing it down with berry lemonade and lingering conversation
3. my family and BONS meeting each other
4. sharing our writing pieces, progress and stumbling blocks
5. giving and getting feedback and encouragement
6. my daughter giving everyone pedicures (massage and pretty painted toenails!) while we worked
7. a special stone with a message for each of us
8. a break to swim in the pool
9. ice cream from the local stand--raspberry, lemon, butter pecan, and peanut butter
10. more talking, more laughing, and plans to meet again

Night Swim

When the pool water warms and days stay hot until after bedtime
it's time for a night swim.
Suits are pulled on and towels dropped poolside,
but voices stay low and lights off.
Only the single underwater light glows,
shifting white yellow green blue red purple.
One by one we step quietly into the still water
and slip below the surface.

Night swims are hushed and slower than daytime,
with no cannonballs or splashing.
We glide underwater, back and forth,
twirling, graceful merpeople just for a night.
Fireflies light up the yard and hover in the air
and the moon peeks from behind sparse clouds.
One by one, we start to float,
looking for stars and softly naming constellations.

After a while, when fingers and toes turn pruney,
and we are floating and gliding silently,
we know it's time.
The night swim is almost over, but we hold on
just a little longer.
Because night swims are anticipated for weeks
and talked about for months.
So we stay just a few more minutes.