Shoe-ly you Must be Kidding

It’s been a while since I posted about shoes.  It’s not that there haven’t been shoe-nanigans a foot (Ha! Mom would have loved that one Juj).  It’s just that I’ve been a bit preoccupied with myself lately.

Generally, you can judge my mood based on my choice of shoes.  Hightops? I was willing to commit to the extra effort needed to get my non-bending foot in the shoe.  Not an easy task.  It also means Aaron has not stolen all of my socks.  Low top Converse or my Vans – I recognize the need for shoes but I just can’t totally commit right now.  Flip flops? I HAVE to wear something… No shoes? That can best be described as I have no intention of getting out of the car.

Lately it’s been flip flops or nothing.  Basically, if I have to put on shoes, the answer is no.

The pile of shoes on my porch has grown.   Aaron was asked to clean his room and he did.  Only problem is he bagged up everything as “trash”.  Fearing the worst, I went through every bag before they were disposed of.  I came away with MULTIPLE pairs of perfectly good shoes (including several pairs that were basically new).  For some reason, they are all still on the porch.  I probably should do something about that.  Tomorrow.

The singles are still there as well, including a few additions.  On a recent trip to the Converse store I discovered that they take old shoes and grind them up to make playground surface material.  How cool is that?  Have I taken them down to add them to to the collection box?  Nope.  But I saved this picture on my phone to remind me.

Because the pile of shoes that I literally walk past multiple times every day isn’t a big enough reminder?

For as long as I can remember we’ve had a basket at the front door to collect shoes.  We’re just not a big shoe wearing family and generally the first thing we do is SHOES OFF.  After years of being annoyed with the overflowing basket of shoes (mostly mine – not going to lie), Eric bought this monstrosity.  I FREAKING HATE IT!  Don’t get me wrong, he meant well but… If I could figure out another solution I would.  I swear, as soon as these boys move out, this thing is going, too! And notice, most of the shoes are near it, not on it. Also notice – there is at least one lone shoe there. That would be Aaron.

And, to top it off, the basket is still at the front door.  Actually, the shoes have begun to migrate over.  Apparently, they’re not a fan of the rack either.

Yesterday, Aaron showed up at my office during the break from his dance class looking for food and water.  “Mom, will you drive me back up to my class?” No… wait, where are your shoes?  He left them in class and walked across campus barefoot.  90 degrees plus outside.  Asphalt the whole way.  Dumbass.  Why does he keep doing this????

While we’re talking about Aaron, he got a new job and he’s already planned out what he’s buying with his first check.  Shoes (high heeled drag shoes, but still, shoes.)  The boy who can’t remember to wear shoes is spending his entire net worth on shoes.  It would be like me opting for raisin cookies.  Insanity.

There’s currently a pair of blue seude-ish high heeled boots on my pool deck.  Isn’t that where you keep yours?

It’s not just Aaron though.  Anthony’s taking ceramics over the summer.  Yesterday – “Damn it, I forgot closed toed shoes.” Today, I specifically asked him if he had his shoes before we left.  “YESSSSSS.” Complete with eyeroll.  I even suggested to him that he keep a pair of Aaron’s porch shoes in the car on the off chance he forgot again.  Narrator: indeed he did not have his shoes nor did he put the extras in the car.  As Juli says, “This is me not caring.”

Last week, WWIII broke out over… shoes.  Anthony is convinced that Aaron is stealing the insoles from his work shoes.  Aaron witnessed the dogs eating said insoles (he didn’t stop them but that’s another issue).  We’ve all witnessed the dogs eating insoles and shoes and socks…  I found one of the insoles in the backyard with a guilty looking dog nearby AND the shoes in question were literally chewed on.  Apparently, the dogs like shoes WAY more than the rest of us.  Did any of this abate the fight? Nope.

A week later, I am sure he’s still harboring resentment over Shoegate 2018. Likely because the outcome of his fight with Aaron was a side battle with me that ended in him walking the 2.5 miles to work when I pulled my car over with an ultimatum to let it drop.  Walked to work no big deal.  With no insoles?  You’d think after 19 years he’d know that when I say, “Don’t make me pull this car over”, you should take that shit seriously.  I would have even stopped at the store and bought him replacement insoles if he wasn’t being such an ass.

For the record, if Anthony had used Eric’s  damn shoe closet, the dogs likely would not have eaten the insoles/shoes.  I’m not saying it’s not needed.  I’m just saying it’s an eyesore and I hate it.

So friends, I’ve already kicked off my flip flops for the night. And no, they’re not on the rack. They’re actually in a whole other pile nowhere near the front door. Yeah, I have issues.

Being the [Drag] Queen Mother

If we’re FB friends you probably know that Aa has jumped with both heels into the world of drag. It wasn’t much of a stretch for my attention seeking performer to combine his loves of dance, costuming, and makeup and take it to the stage/runway.  Aaron’s been choreographing his own numbers since he was about 5 including costumes and props, this is just another venue for him to explore.

After a few short months, he has a following, a small entourage, and the other night he was assembling back up dancers.  He’s working on becoming InstaFamous.  I have no doubt that will happen.

There is nothing about the drag culture that doesn’t appeal to him – it’s literally as over-the-top as you can get.  And well… that’s just Aaron.

Being a DQM is not always easy – especially when said mother is battling serious anxiety.  1) Aaron is a slob and I find his shit EVERYWHERE.  The bathroom. UGH! 2) I don’t wear makeup or do my hair.  I wear jeans or yoga pants and flip flops or Converse EVERY DAY – glamour is not my thing.  Never has been. 3) Frankly, I worry about him going out.  Every day I read about people being shot or beaten because they are different.  I don’t want my son or his friends to end up another statistic.  4) He steals my stuff.  ALL of my glitter, rhinestones, sequins, and feathers have disappeared from my office.  “Well you weren’t using them.” Yeah, I kind of was.  5) He’s broke and drag is costly.  6) Songs on repeat.  7) There is glitter freaking EVERY WHERE!

But, it’s pretty fabulous, too.

He’s living his authentic self.  He’s found an outlet for his creativity.  He’s pretty damn good at it.  He’s learning to be resourceful – even if that means pilfering my craft supplies.

Last month, I took him to DragCon.  WAY outside my comfort zone because SO MANY PEOPLE.  But we had a blast.  He got to meet his favorite queen, Miz Cracker.  He walked the runway.  He was repeatedly complimented on his homemade eyelashes – crafted from junk mail. #dragonadime

Monday night, I got to see him perform live on stage for the first time complete with deathdrops and two leaps into the splits.  ALL DONE IN HEELS!  The talent in that room was a-maz-ing! It was awesome seeing the crowd cheering and oohing and literally in awe of MY KID.  The judges commented that the boy can DANCE – he’s going places! He’s got work to do, room to grow, a look to develop, and moves to smooth out.

Me, I’m still trying to come to terms with him coming home with a stack of singles (tips).

I can’t help him with makeup or fashion, or let’s be honest, dance but there is something I DO know a bit about – marketing.  The plan is to start building a social following, somewhere he can share his tips & tricks for creating on a budget, promote his appearances, and eventually build a brand.

More than that though, I can just be there.

I scream about the mess, and where did THAT come from when you have NO money, and stop taking my craft supplies, and turn down the music, and FREAKING glitter everywhere, and…

But I also listen to his Drag Race recaps.  I TRY not to go down the dark hole of fear and worry every time he goes to the club.  I am “mom” to the extras that come through the house that don’t have that kind of support system at their own homes.  I go and yell and clap and proudly let people know he’s mine.

Acceptance starts at home.

So what’s on the horizon for the diva dude? College classes in dance, makeup, theatre, fashion design, and costuming.  So far, he’s done most of this with zero training – imagine what he can do with some professional guidance? WOW – just WOW!

And for the Queen Mother? More trips to HM’s that’s for sure.  The vibe was fun and the Happy Hour menu made for a cheap night out with friends, and well… DEEP FRIED TWINKIES!  Yeah, I’ll be back – even if it is a bit late for this old broad.  Next time, with all the amazingly supportive people that can’t wait to cheer Luna on.

Now if we could just get the glitter under control. Seriously, it’s FREAKING EVERY WHERE! #craftherpes

Follow Aaron and/or Luna La Fierce on Instagram

Finding Dobby

My children have a knack for “finding” things.  Justin dragged a filthy hubcap home from a walk.  We have a street sign, too.  The tweedles once brought home a toilet. Don’t ask.

And, of course, the animals.  Common yard lizards.  A giant turtle the pet store was going to throw away.  A bearded dragon in the recycling.  And dogs.  Yes plural… dogS.

The first one was Fontana, the porch dog.  “He just followed us home.” Neutra wanted nothing to do with him, so on the front porch he lived… for about a week until he either ran away or some kindhearted person rescued him.

Not long after the week with Fontana, this happened.

“Mom we’re bringing home a dog.”

Wait, what?

“She was tied to a tree at the park (with a sign that said FREE), we couldn’t just LEAVE her there, could we!?”

Well…

That was seven years ago today.  Seven years with Dobby, our first HOUSE dog, hence her name.  Prior to Dobs, dogs lived OUTSIDE. Because… dogs.  Wylie, Corbu, Neutra, Harley.  Dogs were also not little.  For better or worse – Dobby changed it all.

In 2014 we came home to her missing – hysterically checking the pool to make sure she hadn’t fallen in and drowned – hearing from a neighbor she’d been hit by a car – checking the internet and seeing her jailed, leg in a cast – trapped at the shelter until they reopened DAYS later – ugly crying picking her up – surgery to repair the leg and hip – and then back to normal as if it was all just some horrible dream.

She wasn’t the last dog they brought home.  “Mom, I got a dog.”  I thought Aaron was kidding.  When will I learn?  And then, of course, bringing Anthony back home last year meant adding Charlie to the mix, too.

Before Luna, she was Eric’s dog. His bird hunting (and occasionally catching), adventure seeking, carpool copilot.

Now, Dobby’s more like me.  Middle aged.  A bit bigger in the butt than she used to be.  Yeah we can go on an adventure OR we could sit in the recliner and nap rather than “be productive”.  She’s my armrest dog.  And like me, she puts up with this shit…

Although, we’re both not sure why.

The Mysterious Case of the Single Shoe(s)

I have never in my 48.75 years on this planet lost a pair of shoes.  Keys? Wallet? Phone? My mind? Of course.  But shoes? Nope.

Heck, I’ve even lost a pair of pants… but that’s a story for another day.

So, HOW on Earth does my child CONSTANTLY lose his shoes? This is not a new phenomena.  Hours before leaving for camp – “Mom my boots are missing.” Dance shoes “stolen”. Leave for school with shoes, come home without them.  How does this keep happening?

In January, I found him a pair of AMAZING gold sparkly hightop Converse (a killer deal at Ross).  By early February they were gone.  GONE! “Someone threw them away at school.” Wait… what?

As if that’s not weird enough, there is currently a collection of SINGLE SHOES on my porch.  Not one single shoe (although that would be weird as well) but MULTIPLE.  Where are their mates?  We’re not talking socks that can get lost in the dryer – SHOES! Not cute little baby shoes that could easily be misplaced – GROWN ASS ADULT-SIZED SHOES!

How does one lose a SINGLE SHOE? Do you just limp home with one shoe on? Talk about a Walk of Shame.

Thanks to a clubfoot, up until age 8, I pretty much only needed left shoes.  There was probably a box in a closet somewhere filled with brand new right shoes.  Someone happening upon it probably was as perplexed as I was when I found this stash headed to the garbage (trashed since he couldn’t find the mates).

I have no idea if the other shoes will turn up.  They could have been left at school.  Or in someone’s car.  Or at his grandparent’s house. Or a parking lot.  Or the park.  Maybe they’ve gone to the Upside Down place where socks and Tupperware lids and bread twisty ties and forgotten homework live.  The shit I lost last night with him is probably there, too.

Maybe Luna took them and hid them outside as she is known to do. Or maybe… just maybe, they are in the 100 square foot dumpster we call “Aaron’s room”.

Todays moral: Like much of my life – I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Anaheim Packing District

When looking for something cool for the boys and I to do on our Adventure Day yesterday, I happened upon a listing for the Anaheim Packing District. I’m not sure how we’ve never been here – it’s 100% US!

So many choices!

Basically this place is like an upscale mall food court without having to go to the mall. The best part is that with so many stalls there was literally something for all of us. No fighting. And no drive through. 

We walked through most of the 2-story food paradise before making our choices. 

Aaron and I decided on Vietnamese at Sawleaf. I had the pork belly bahn mi, Aaron had the steak fries. Basically, the first place he saw fries he stopped and go no interest in looking any further. Not much out of his comfort zone but he did eat the five spice aioli so there’s that. His fries were skinny and crispy and the steak tender. 

My bahn mi really hit the spot. The bread was crispy and soft in the center, the meat was tender, the salad crisp and fresh. I missed the daikon I’m used to but the fried jalapeños added a nice bite. The sauce was a bit sweet for my taste but eaten as a whole, a definite A. 

Anthony opted for the Snoop Dawg at Doggone Good Sodas and Dogs with a side of loaded chili. 

The dog had buffalo sauce,  bourbon bacon, and ranch. Paired with a light IPA and he was a happy boy. 

J was the last to decide and he was deliberating between the short rib poutine and the bbq cheeseburger version. While I was waiting for my sandwich, he came up asking what poutine was. Once he heard smothered fries, he was sold. Aa should have waited because Kroft had tons of amazing choices. J’s burger fry concoction was HUGE! Fries, a burger patty, cheese, sauce, fried onions. The fries were larger than Aaron’s and overall a better choice, too. 

Since we were headed to find the chimney cakes (which ended up being 2 blocks away) we didn’t get desserts but future trips will include ice cream bars, snowballs, cotton candy covered drinks, and giant ice cream novelties. 

This place is pretty hipster. $3 valet or try to find a spot on the local streets – we opted for a free lot down the street. Oh yeah, free WiFi, too. Food was about $10/person. Anthony bought his own beer so I have no idea how much he shelled out for that. 

Chimney Cakes – no passport required

If you’ve never heard of Chimney Cakes you’re obviously not as obsessed with sweets as me or don’t watch as many travel food shows and videos as me. That’s ok, I’m here for ya. 

I’m not sure where I first saw these; probably an episode of Delicious Destinations with Andrew Zimmern or a Facebook video. The idea of a hollow churro that could be filled with additional yumminess sounded even more awesome than the looping churro ice cream sundaes from The Loop in Westminster. BUT, convincing E to go to Prague for donuts? Probably not likely. 

Side note – if you’ve never been to The Loop, GO!

So, when I read Nancy Luna’s article in the OC Register about the newly opened House of Chimney Cakes, a plan started. Luckily, the boys and I had a day off today for Veteran’s Day. The boys aren’t usually up for my crazy adventures but once I promised food and no museums and then showed them photos of the chimney cakes they were sold! 

So did they live up to the hype? Ummmm YES!

First off, there are a ton of options which tends to overwhelm us so we opted for two combos on the menu – Oreo (duh) and s’mores. 

Watching them make the cones in front of us was pretty awesome! Rolling out the dough, loading into the special rotisseries, the dripping buttery goodness, rolling them in the coatings. And then all the topping choices! Wow!

When they take them out of the special oven they actually steam from the top looking like delicious volcanos!

The churro-like cones were both crunchy and soft, and not too thick or bready. They made the perfect vessel for the ice cream and toppings. No mushy cones or drippy mess. Perfection. 

Aaron and I shared the s’mores cone which was coated in ground graham crackers and filled with vanilla soft serve, graham crackers, chocolate pieces, chocolate syrup, and a blowtorch toasted marshmallow! There was a surprise Whopper at the bottom of the cone, too. 

Justin & Anthony’s Oreo cone was covered in cookie crumbs and filled with swirled ice cream, syrup, and cookies. 

Will we go back? What do you think? 

Easy parking in the lot. Cones cost us $7.95 each fully loaded. Seating out front. Walking distance to “real food”. Employees were super friendly. 

The posts that wouldn’t be OR ramblings for a Thursday morning

So many things I could have written about over the last month but I just wasn’t feeling it.

There have been adventures…

E and I went down to a cool, private botanic garden in Fallbrook a few weeks ago without the boys.  We’ve been trying to spend more time together without them.  It’s all about balance and learning how to be a couple again after being 2:5 for so long.

There were goats, lots of rustic crap, and some yummy food.

Side note: this was my first time on the 395 in Fallbrook since the accident and I think I handled it pretty dang well.  I don’t think I’ve put last year’s accident behind me but maybe I’m desensitizing a little.  Now if I could just stop seizing up every time I see a car roll in a movie.

Last Sunday I asked E if he was in the mood for a sandwich.  (AKA easy way to get him to go somewhere that he likely would not have wanted to go in the first place.)  My ulterior motive was a scrapbook store that had lost its lease and was having a close out sale.   Instead of reminding me that I have enough crap and that I had just been at the expo the day before – all he asked was if it was the store with the comfy chair.  Like I said, sandwiches get me pretty far.

Katella Deli for a shared sandwich – after 30 years we’re getting better at sharing one meal rather than bringing home a ton of leftovers.  (We’ve officially turned into that old married couple with one meal, two plates, and two glasses of water.)  It’s all about compromise and finding something we can both not just tolerate but enjoy.  The winner? A combo of pastrami AND corned beef that was taken apart so that we each got exactly what we wanted – his side with yellow mustard and mine with brown and both slathered in coleslaw.

I miss deli SO much!  It reminds me of my dad and it is IMPOSSIBLE to find anywhere near us.  We both commented on how the sandwiches at Katella seem to be shrinking.  I also noticed that the clientele was all our age and older.  Although they were packed, like always, I wonder if after we are gone, Katella will be as well.  My kids don’t get excited about deli the way we (still) do and I cannot imagine them driving an hour to get a sandwich.  I hope I’m wrong.

There was scrapbook… shopping…

I keep sitting down to craft and nothing comes out.  Kind of like my writing – over the last few weeks I’ve been dry.  I was hoping walking around the expo with Lisa would solve that.  All it did was enable me to buy more stuff.  When I went to put it away I realized between the expo and the store, I’ve managed to buy a bunch of duplicates.  I REALLY need to organize again and get some stuff done.  Crop signed up for Thanksgiving weekend so I have the incentive, now I just need the motivation.

I did play with alcohol inks a few weeks ago and made some cool tile coasters that are still sitting in the family room waiting to be sealed.  THREE WEEKS LATER!

I probably should get on that.  I was so excited about the tiles that I went out and bought 9 more bottles of ink and some more tiles so that we could have a family craft night – ummm yeah… not sure when exactly the planets will align for us all to be home together but it was a nice thought.  The newly purchased supplies are also sitting in the family room; a constant reminder that we all lead WAY too busy of lives.

There was also a trip to Sam’s Club the other night to get a ginormous cinnamon roll.  Went for the roll, spent over $200 on stuff – mighty expensive pastry.  It would have been cheaper to get us all Cinnabons!  FYI Cinnabons would have tasted better, too – ours looked NOTHING like the Delish article.

Or caramel apples… I’ve been craving one for at least a month but the one at Myrtle Creek was disappointing and I cannot justify $10 at Rocky Mountain.  E saw that they have 13 varieties of apples on sale at Sprouts this week and I suggested that he buy one of each kind and we have an apple taste-off.  I even offered to make caramel dip.  Nope, not a self-serving suggestion at all.  😉 We’ll see if he comes through when he goes shopping.  If so, there WILL be a DIY caramel apple bar in our future!

Aaron tagged along on a trip up to Idyllwild last week.  E needed to site supervise the placement of the chapel he designed at Camp Emerson and I went along so he didn’t have to drive up alone.  Not sure why Aa came with except that he thought he was getting breakfast which apparently is NOT the same thing as run through the drive through at Mc Donald’s – good to know.  After we were done at Emerson, Aa DEMANDED “real food” so we stopped in town.  We walked around for a little bit – how have we never walked around Idyllwild despite the hundreds of trips we have made up there???? Happened upon a store that sells HAND-DIPPED ICE CREAM BARS! I search FOREVER for ice cream bars and the one time I find one I am too stuffed from eating TWO breakfasts?!?!  Good thing I can guarantee that that will not be my last trip up there so at some point, there WILL be an ice cream bar in my future.  Damn you Costco for taking them off the cafe menu! Curses!

There was a bunch of random ass shit, too…

The other night I was getting into bed and Anthony asked me why I was going to sleep in my work clothes.  I was wearing Rudolph pajama pants.  Either I’m way overdressing for sleep or I need to step up my work clothes from leggings.  Probably the latter.  Probably not going to happen though.  #leggingsarepantstoo

I finally de-Halloweened the front porch.  Took that nasty spider web crap off the trees.  That shit is worse than tinsel.  They’re both like holiday herpes!  Aa is already talking about Christmas so I am sure it’s only a matter of days before one of those damn trees is setup in my house.

Speaking of Halloween, we went to Target last week and bought about $20 in candy.  When candy is marked down 50% off that’s a shitload of candy.  I brought one bag of Reese’s to the office with me because I live with damn locusts.  E may have a few bags of Skittles hidden.  The GIANT bag on the counter is at least half way down! Locusts I tell you! (In all honesty, it’s mostly Aaron.)

The Mystery Oreos are STILL sitting on the kitchen counter from almost a month ago.  We tried them and they were just SO tasty that more than 1/2 the package is still there almost a month later.  Since it doesn’t look like anyone is going to eat them, I might need to find something else to do with them – maybe scrape the filling out and use the cookies for a cheesecake crust? Other ideas?  Want to know what we thought of them?

That being said, I just saw that they have limited edition Hot Cocoa Oreos out now.  Yeah, THOSE will be in my cart, most definitely.

Monday night I finally was able to stand on one leg. WITHOUT FALLING OVER! We’re nearing the end of yoga class so apparently the damn optimists were right and persistence does indeed pay off. Who’d have thought?

Last week, I read Dan Brown’s new book Origin.  We saw Thor: Ragnarok.  We rewatched the original Kingsman movie in hopes of seeing the sequel which is pretty much not even playing anymore.  We still haven’t watched season 2 of Stranger Things – once again trying to find a time when we can all watch it together so that no one is an asshole and spoils it for anyone else.  Yeah, not sure when/how THAT will ever happen.  It’s been a no go for the new season of Orange is the New Black, too – every time I sit down to watch it some kid starts asking me questions about characters or plot lines or the criminal justice system – sheesh, just watch it from the beginning and stop yammering on so I can hear what they are saying!

One last thing, there may have also been donuts as big as our heads, too.

The last two months of the year are filled with madness.  I have an adventure day with the boys scheduled for tomorrow (Veteran’s Day observed). Band is winding down – only 2 more performances to go!  2nd Annual Thanksgiving with the Weiners. Our 18th familversary.  Feeding pomegranates to and riding camels – YES REALLY!  CHINA!!!! Hanukkah/Festivus/Christmas.  E’s last birthday starting with a 4.

Holy shit that’s a lot of stuff – and I’m sure it’s not a complete list!  Despite the mayhem and chaos, it will be filled with family, friends, laughter, adventures, and shenanigans.  Definitely shenanigans! Because of course they are MY assholes children…

Until later llamas…

We didn’t go to Utah

We didn’t go to Utah last weekend with the band.  Eric wasn’t feeling it.  Aaron was being kind of an ass.  It was a 12 hour trip to watch an 8-minute performance. Juli said “Fuck no”.  It just wasn’t going to happen.

I’m really glad the other moms went.

It was supposed to be a fun trip.  Senior year. Perform. Hang out with your friends. Visit Zion NP.  There was even a swim/rock climbing party planned!  He was REALLY looking forward to it.  Couldn’t stop talking about it.  What could possibly go wrong?

Aaron.  If he’s not the source of the drama – it seems he’s right in the middle of it.

He’s emotional and high spirited and strong-willed and opinionated and he has zero filter. Zero.

And he found the drama – or it found him – and with a few choice words the weekend quickly spiraled in a fiery descent. And two of the band/scout moms were there to keep the embers at bay and get him back to Cali without me having to make (yet another) rescue mission.

It’s never a good day when he calls screaming about so-and-so and what she said or did (or didn’t do that she was supposed to do but didn’t).  He didn’t want to hear that mean girls suck or life isn’t fair or suck it up and (try to) avoid the drama or really anything I had to say.  I mean how do you talk a kid down when you are 3 states away anyhow?

Angie called that night to say how upset he was.  She let him vent.  Shannon had the joy of listening to him over lunch on Sunday.

He was still pissed when he got home Sunday afternoon.  And he still hadn’t let it go Monday morning and then he reignited.  Great.  Thankful for the teacher that talked him down and refocused him.  Concentrate on what you love, not on petty people that bring you down.

So had we gone would it have been any different? I’ve mulled this over non-stop for the last 48 hours.  Kicked myself for not going – not being there to diffuse a volatile situation before it turned into this shitstorm of emotions.  This isn’t something new.  Every time this happens I live with the mommy guilt.  I wasn’t at Forrest Lawn when he demanded to come home early.  I wasn’t there during the Pacific Crest tour.  And I wasn’t in Utah either.

It probably wouldn’t have made any difference at all.  He still would have had his feelings hurt, he still would have had his meltdown, and as a bonus he likely would have DEMANDED to drive home with us instead of living outside his comfort zone and riding the bus with his team.  And in classic parenting fail caused by all-consuming guilt, I probably would have let him.  I also probably would have lost my temper.  Probably not probably.

Deep down I know that I can’t always be there to rescue him from himself.  I can only be there to pick up the pieces and hope it will be the last time.  It won’t be.  It’s Tuesday and he really didn’t want to go to band this morning.  But he went anyway.  And that’s progress.

This parenting a quasi-adult thing is way harder than we expected; he may be 18 on paper but he’s still just a kid.  My kid.

I’m trying to stay out of the problem and instead just keep encouraging him to be strong, be the best Aaron he can be, and stop letting the “mean girls” win.  Eric’s fighting that inner battle between jumping in and staying out, too.  Neither one of us wants to see him quit (yet again) and at some point, we may not have the choice but to intervene.

As always, I’m uber thankful for the tribe that bands together to help us raise these boys.  I’ve lost track of the number of people that have been there for them in times of need, both emotional and physical.  It proves that parenting (especially parenting Aaron) is more than a full-time job.  It truly takes a village and luckily, sometimes that village travels to provide him comfort on the road, too.  You rock. mamas!

Guard Dude 1 or “How I Became a Band Mom”

I married a trombonist. A proud high school band geek.  Early in our marriage he played his trombone for me. My reaction? SO LOUD. In the closet his horn sat.

Years later, in hopes of another generation of Herchenroeder horn players, Anthony played trumpet in the elementary school band. Two. Long. Years. Then he wisely decided sports was more his (and my) thing.

J never had interest in music; for him it was science and nature.

Then came Aaron, and E’s hopes for a band kid were rekindled. (After all, this is the kid who taught himself how to play the piano watching YouTube videos.) So, when he came home from school the newest member of the Osos Regiment, we weren’t really surprised. But it wasn’t music that caught his attention, it was guard.

And just like that, Los Osos had its first male guard member in school history. Guard Dude 1. And I became a Band Mom. Yay.

Looking back, it totally made sense. He’d been choreographing his own dances for years. Costumes? Kind of his forte. Center of attention? ALWAYS.

So here we are 3 years later. He’s the most accomplished member of the team. He spends most of his free time spinning, tumbling, leaping,  choreographing, dancing. He has his own arsenal of sabers, rifles, and flags. He’s one of the only male guard members in our fairly large school district.  Guard and dance are EVERYTHING!

Marching band is definitely not my thing. But it’s Aaron’s (and Eric’s) so I sit proudly in the stands trying to keep track of where he is on the field.

I’m pretty proud of him. Not because he’s good, that’s not even debatable, but because he bucked the stereotypes, shot down the Mean Girls (and boys) and followed his passion. I hope someday he understands how truly amazing that is.

Most of the time, Aaron doing what Aaron wants is a challenge for the house. (To say the least.) But that determination and self confidence are also the character traits that will propel him to great heights. Keep leaping for the stars, Bug.

Counting Down

It’s hard to believe we’re counting down to Aaron graduating. Even just the idea that he’s graduating (Gd willing) is INSANE. I’m sure we’re not the only ones saying “finally”. Fairly certain the entire high school faculty/staff will heave a collective sigh of relief to see him walk the field.

It’s been a constant struggle with this one.  At least 20 IEP meetings and countless schedule changes and begging him to just do the damn work AND turn it in!  The IDEA that we may be done with K-12 in our house is enough to make me giddy.  What stands in our way is enough to make me need a drink.

209 Days.

Not that we’re keeping track or anything.

Back in August we had a meeting to see if it was even plausible that he’d graduate. Seven classes. That’s it. Pass seven classes. No biggie, right?

Ha! Because… Aaron.

None of the required classes are dance or guard.

So based on how the first few months of the year have gone, I haven’t put a lot of heart into Aaron graduating. I don’t want to get my hopes up and then have them plummet to the ground in an epic free fall.  I’ve even procrastinated the yearbook pic. Classic Mom of the Year.

Deadline? THIS Friday. So tonight, the shit got real and this happened

He proudly posted it on his Instagram.  Hoping this gets him to take those 7 classes seriously. And focus on the prize at the end of the race.

209 days. 7 classes. We can do this. Right?