13

Nick and I officially started dating 13 years ago today. We talked about it over the weeked, since it was coming up. As it turned out, we both thought about it several times today but we were both so busy that we never brought it to the other's attention until about 5 this evening. We had a 40th birthday party for my dad at the Tiki house, and Nick and I had gone out on the paddleboat. We talked about how we really enjoyed each other's company and we'd been spending a lot of time together. It was official--we were boyfriend and girlfriend. That night, I called Jennifer and made her swear not to let me get too serious, or MARRY this guy! HA! Funny how things turn out. Here's to 13!

Homecoming Date

My, how times have changed. I guess it was 13 years ago that Nick and I went to the senior prom together. We tried to remember where we went before the football game those twelve years ago as we sat at our kitchen table for our homecoming dinner date. I picked the boys up on Friday and saw the homecoming banner on the high school fence as I drove by. The girls with flowing mums also gave away the secret. It blasted me to the past. I know it was a big deal. I made Nick's boy-mum, and the one he gave me had been just perfect. It's a toss up to whether or not I still have it. In all the moves, I would imagine that it went by the wayside, but there ARE a couple of nostalgic boxes up in the attic.

Last night, while Nick went to pick up the take-out, I fed the boys. Thus, we could enjoy a dinner for two together. Romantic. I should have lit a candle for ambiance, but I don't really like candles so I don't have any real ones. I could have put one of the battery flicker candles out. HA! Our dinner entertainment included one son leaping through the house in spiderman pajamas, firing peew-peew-laser-spider-web beams. The other son was tired and was lulling himself (and us) with the ABC song on repeat mode. We decided he was too tired for a encore when he drunkenly bumped into a wall for no apparent reason besides exhaustion. And it is a wonder why I can't remember what we did for homecoming? My mind is in such mommy-mode. I just laughed about how times have changed. We wouldn't change anything for the world because living this journey and coming home each night together has so much more meaning than a high school homecoming.

A Day Off

I got to drop the boys off at school today. I wonder if other mothers find that to be such a sacred thing to do. It's not because I am basking with excitement to have the day off, it's just that I never get to do that. I got to meet Ms. Margarita who, beforehand I've only heard, loves on Michael each morning as he arrives and before each departure at school. I'm glad that he just walks in and enjoys his routine. He loves Ms. Vivi, his teacher, but has a special bond with Ms. Margarita. Even though they barely know me, and I them, I am fortunate to have them love and care for Michael. Nathan was going to walk down the hallway all by himself to his classroom, which made my heart sink a little, but turned around after about 10 steps and wanted me to come with him.
I got back in the car and started to drive. No one told me to go anywhere, I had no schedule AT ALL, and I sort of meandered through the roads. Since it is close to the school, I drove by my grandparents' old photography studio and home, and except for a run down mini van in the front, it looks abandoned. Ike took one of the big trees out near the studio. No one has bothered to clean it up. I wondered for a while what the place looks like inside, and in a blink of a moment, thought about knocking on the door. Naah. I think I'd rather keep the mental images that I have from the past. I can close my eyes and picture just about everything. From there, and from my other grandparents' home. It is sort of like driving through a nostalgic, shabby town knowing that at one time it was a hoppin' place. That building had 30 or so employees, customers were coming in and out, brides and families and professionals would come in for portrait appointments, and grandchildren were almost ALWAYS somewhere. The shelves of silk bridal bouquets, the grandeur of the staircase, the storage closets, the placement of bedrooms and living areas upstairs, the case where photographs would be sprayed with aerosol (now they'd probably be considered carcinogens in a spray can), the spinning black trap doors that would lead to the dark rooms, the rolling chairs in the studio, and the volumes of proof books for customers to look at. The acreage in the back, for portraits primarily, also had plenty of room to make pretend play worlds under the tree canopies for us kids. It was a neat place to spend my younger days. From the looks of it, the yard is just a mess now. That building once had a life--a very vibrant life--and now its age and wear are showing. It's, well, alone and tattered. Deep sigh, move on.
I did some more driving around, and somewhat quickly came back home. This day is turning out to be JUST what I wanted. I think my brain has transformed into mashed potatoes, and I've not a care in the world. I thought about some new shoes...naah. I thought about venturing to the outlet mall...naah. I think I REALLY confused the dogs when I came home. I learned that they sleep after we leave in the morning because the piece of pop-tart that I left on the kitchen floor was still there when I returned. I NEED to get my oil changed. It's close to a craft store. I need thread. I half-laugh because the mundane act of getting thread is actually really appealing. So, off I go.