Paradise Lost

It's deceptively sunny out today -- just Mother Nature's way of smacking around those of us who came home from paradise to find forecasts of snow for the coming week.

I was prepared for colder weather after our week in Turks & Caicos where even the harshest breeze is but a carress and the one shower we got was just another fun way to get wet.

I've needed this weekend to get my mind wrapped back around our ordinary lives. I'm not quite there yet. Vacation was blissful. While we had plans to meet up with some good friends, we never made it off the resort property until it was time to go.

As you know, I sometimes fret that Alison is growing up too fast and that I'm not ready for her teenage years. So while she wants to be a teen and wear grown up clothes and heeled sandals, I noticed that she'd packed her two Allahs for the trip. They kept her company on the flights as well as in her bed. So I guess I have a little more time.

Some fun stuff from the trip:

Jeff's brother James works for a company that does some work with the U.S. military and as such, there's a list of countries he can't visit. We were joking about that and Alison didn't understand why he was limited. We explained that some countries aren't friendly to the U.S. and might think James would be a good target for kidnapping or even torture. She pondered this a while and then said, "Cool."

Later, at the airport as we were coming through customs, she pulled me aside rather urgently and asked if Japan was a country Uncle James could visit. "What?" I said, distracted by trying to find where to go next and wondering if she was going to suggest our next travel destination.

"Are the Japanese after Uncle James, too?" she asked, looking furtively behind us and pushing me along.

"No," I said. "Why?"

"Oh, good," she said. "That guy back there keeps checking him out."

I refrained from offering any other suggestions for why that might be.

***

Alison found a tee-shirt for Gary that she had to have one year for a Christmas present, I think. It says something like "Beneath this shirt is the world's coolest Grandpa."

Gary wore it one day as he dutifully trod around the resort under doctor's orders to get his back in shape after a fall at home. Apparently it made him the hit of the island with women of all ages stopping him to comment.

I'm pretty sure he'll be wearing that shirt a little more often...

***

We snorkled twice and the first time at a reef just minutes down the beach, Alison terrified herself thinking a shark attack might be imminent. Later, when paddleboarding with me, she saw what I'm sure was a rock and had another little episode. She apologized later for me having to row us both to shore while she lay paralyzed and explained that it's OK to be afraid, it's how to deal with your fear that she needs to think about.

A day or so later, we went out on a boat to a reef farther from our home beach, and I'd gotten chilly and had to pee so I left the water early, only to find the boat bathroom wasn't working. It's one thing to pee in the sea and quite another to get back in the water knowing everyone who sees you get back in knows why you're in the water. It was a long ride to shore.

But anyway, I was sitting there with my legs crossed and I heard a family talk about the two sharks they'd seen. Alison was still in the water with her father. As more people got back on the boat, there was more shark talk.

I was hoping against hope that Alison would be back in the boat before she got wind of this. I could just see Jeff having to tow her back in. The only question in my mind was whether she'd be comatose or screaming.

So she gets back on board and Jen tells Jeff about the sharks, which he hadn't seen. I breathe a sigh of relief. Then Alison comes trotting up to me and says she saw them too. I was so shocked I forgot my bladder was about to break loose.

"What did you do when you saw them? I asked.

"Well, I was following this blue fish and was a little away from Dad when I looked down and there they were below me," she said. "I started to freak out a little bit but then I just said, 'Swim away. Just swim away.' So I just went back to Dad and headed straight for the boat."

Love her.

***

Jen, Peter and I were true to our workout routines, though Jen took her run to the beach. Peter and I were sometimes in the gym together and just like last time, he offered up some ideas for me. One because I was apparently neglecting my triceps and another form of ab torture. Peter is pretty buff so his advice is good.

I'd show you a picture of how buff he is but my arms apparently were too sore to snap any pictures of him...

***

Alison, Jen and I indulged in massages -- a luxury Alison is ready to add into her ordinary life. Ali also befriended most of the housekeeping staff -- in part because she's a friendly girl but also because she wanted to add to her collection of trial sized bath products. Her haul sent our luggage over the weight limit. Seriously. The chocolate croissants have likely sent me over mine as well, but given the coming snowfall, it's still sweater weather and thus, hide-able.

***

We got back late Thursday and spent most of Friday slowly doing laundry and Saturday chores. At one point, Ali texted Jenna to find she was having boy trouble so we invited her over. They chattered away, we saw the Croods -- inspired by an unexpected gift from Jasheway left in Ali's bedroom. They were on fish duty and apparently had screened the movie in addition to getting our mail and keeping the lone survivor swimming in Ali's tank.

This morning, the girls cracked into my limited make-up supplies and gave themselves mustaches after they decided they didn't like whatever they'd tried first.

On the way home, Jenna was telling us about her friend who'd been sick but was now on intermission. We don't know who she was talking about but are hoping for the best for her.

Down but not out

I talk fairly often about how lucky Alison and Jenna are to have each other. but this week, they're in the back seat.

Jeff had been sick the previous week and I'd tried to avoid him but it was catching me. I started getting sick the day before I was to leave for an overnight work trip to New York. It was really important and I'd been looking forward to it in that anxious kind of way of hoping it would go well, that the storm would hold off, and that I wouldn't get the boss sick.

The night before we were to leave, the boss's daughter caught the flu. So there we were, trying to keep our germs to ourselves and doing our best to make the trip a success.

Bolstered by too much DayQuil than was probably good for me and cough drops by the handful, I powered through. The flu may have been left behind. We'll see about that. It was a really, really good trip.

So I get home. I'm out of DayQuil and while I consider getting more, even I knew I had to give in to the cold. I didn't get to work on Friday. But I was scheduled to host Bunco on Friday night and it's just too hard to get us all together anymore to cancel it. I had made lasanga the weekend before and Alison wanted to make cupcakes for dessert, so I didn't have to touch much of their food.

While I wasn't great company, just listening to everyone was so much fun. And so worth it even though after dinner I fell asleep twice and finally gave in and said I was going to bed. I told them to stay as long as they wanted and that I'd clean up in the morning.

I went straight to bed. Before the Nyquil took me, I heard someone complain (I think repeatedly thought I might have hallucinated) "Hey! I got three dishDRYERS and one dishWASHER here. Get on it!."

Later, I think I heard, "Next time I have Bunco I'm gonna pretend that I'm sick so you bitches will clean my house."

And lots of giggling. For a minute there I thought it was Jenna and Alison in the kitchen.

And then I slept.

Yes, I should have cancelled Bunco. But I love my Bunconians. Everyone should be so lucky to have friends like mine.

P.S. Jeff and Ali have been great, too. I am not always a good patient and Jeff and I recover from things differently, something he struggles with.

Bunco is an exclusive affair, so Jeff took Alison to dinner and Plato's Closet to cash in on a Christmas gift from her grandfather. I haven't had the modeling show yet, but apparently as they walked into the shop, she spied a pair of shorts she fell in love with.

Zebra-striped, they were, as Jeff described it, "There because they had just stripped them off a dead hooker."

Thankfully they were six sizes too large. He assures me she came home with appropriate clothes. I'll let you know how that goes...

"You can ask my mom. She held the bag."

We've been fortunate, again, to have Jenna for a little bit. You'd think that at nearly 12, the girls would be past sharing bubble baths.

But Jenna spied one of Alison's bath bombs, they are hoping to end up in the Jordan Y pool anyway, so they've been waterlogged now for about two hours. The pool doesn't open to general swim until 1.

They've giggled and sang and made up hand-slapping routines to terrible, awful prose. And they've giggled.

Along the way, somehow they got to talking about having to pee at inopportune times. As is their wont, they were one upping each other until Jenna quieted the house with this one.

"I once pooped in a bag."

Alison expressed her disbelief silently.

"I did. You can ask my mom. She held the bag."

I could go on, but why, really?

Comedy Central

Alison and Jenna had a sleepover this weekend. Excerpts:

Amy takes them to Skyzone and on the way learns more about One Direction than anyone will ever need to know.

A: "Did you know that Harry has four nipples?"
J: "Ewwwwwwww!!!! Really?"
A: "No, not really, but he has two birthmarks underneath his nipples that LOOK like two MORE
nipples!!"
J: "Man, he better keep his shirt on."
A: "I know, right?"

Random conversations reported by special guest PhotoShooter, Amy Reed Tokash. (Yes, her maiden name is Reed. Is it any wonder why we're so close? )

Amer: "So, Ali, where does your Dad go to play poker tonight?"
A: Apparently blessed with her father's hearing, says: "I know!! I had his bottle of whiskey and scotch!"

(I have no idea what that could possibly mean.)

Amer tries again: "No, I said where does your Dad go to play poker?"
A: "Oh, I have no clue."

Romance, on short notice, is often Alison's specialty and Amer's pants are afire so often I'm not sure how she keeps supplied in Levi's. I, for one, don't believe this conversation occurred. Had my friend Alex Ogden been present, he would have put a stop to it, I'll tell you that. Jenna, the traitorious rat, is no longer my favoriter person under 5 feet.

A: "My Mom almost drove us right into a PARKED CAR on the way to your house!"
J: "Yeah, that would be your mom......"
A: "I told her, 'Mom, why don't you take your hand OFF the phone and put it ON
the steering wheel!?!"
A: "And once, my mom got so mad that someone cut her off at Taco Bell, she let the
'F' bomb fly."
J: "Wow! What did you do?"
A: "I said 'Awwwww, Mom!! You said the -- and my Mom cut me off and said don't tell your father. I'll give you an extra taco if you don't say anything."
J: "So did you tell your Dad?"
A: "NO! I'd do anything for an extra taco!"

On the way home, they stopped at Huddles and somehow got on the subject of compost. Alison wasn't sure what compost was but I do appreciate her love of simplicity.

J: "You know, it's like manure."
A: "Why don't you just call it cow crap?"

I got Alison back on Sunday. They weren't really ready to part ways but Jenna had homework and I had an Oscar party to get ready for. As usual, we left a few things behind, one of which was a volleyball kneepad -- one of the ones Alison had gotten on special request, for Christmas.

I've had a crazy busy week so far, and Jeff has had to do extra duty on both ends of the school day. When he picked her up from volleyball practice on Monday night, she was wearing one bright and shiny new black and one well-used, almost white kneepad. The white one was gifted from Annie Strahla, athlete extraordinaire. We were hoping some of her skill would seep thru the kneepad, and it just might have. The Tigers have had a pretty good season.

"What's up with the kneepads?" he asked.

"Oh, I just thought it would look cool," says Alison, no dummy. She's still smarting from her experience of losing her cell phone for a few weeks, only to find it in her winter coat pocket.

Amy later that night narced on Alison and told Jeff that she was in possession of the other black kneepad but sneaky as always, he held this tidbit close a a tick on a coonhound after an all-night hunt.

He also picked her up from school Tuesday, and during her report of the day, she made the mistake of telling him she had had the opportunity to go to confession. Like a cornered rattler, he struck: "Did you confess that you lied to your father yesterday?" he asked.

Trapped by the devastating cross examination, she hung her head and confessed again. "I just didn't want to tell you after I'd lost my phone," she said.

The day was not stellar. It had started with a 715 a.m. ortho visit where her lip was clipped while she had some wires worked on, and then pinched in the same spot during another proceedure. Jeff had reported that news to Amy, and Jenna tried to call Ali that night to check on her. Alison and I had been snuggling downstairs and I'd missed the call.

When I discovered it, I suggested she could give Jenna a return call in the morning.

"Uh. Mom," she said.

"You didn't," I said.

Yes. She'd lost her dang phone again.

She used my phone last night to call Jenna back. Amy answered, of course, and Ali asked her if she'd happened to see her phone anywhere around the house. God bless her, Amy did a search and found it in her car.

But before she found it, Amy asked Jenna if she'd seen it.

Said Jenna: "Tell her to look in her coat pocket."

Oscar night and I have nothing to wear...

So yeah, I sqeezed in a little shopping after I remembered a skirt my friend Lisa left in my closet.

It's Oscar night and while we have skipped the best Oscar party in town in the past, we are back at it this year. Thank you Clay Miller for not dropping us as we may have deserved...

Please say a prayer or send good karma to my friend Brooke so little Christian gets better and stays better. Also for my friends Angie and Julie who are among the strongest, most beautiful people I know.

And I know some stunners.

For example, I was subbing at euchre the other night when I mentioned that Ali had insisted on adding some of her Ali-made cupcakes to a meal I was making for Angie and her family. A couple of the women had once sat with Angie at a Gathering of the Goddesses Planned Parenthood event. The others don't know her at all.

But they've asked if they can get in on the meals plan.

"Oh, I remember her. She's lovely," said Monica Brase.

As are you, ladies... Love my friends...

And I love my Ali, too. We made a meal for Brooke, and it will include some Ali dessert.

She'll be finishing up the cupcakes while we drop in on the Oscar party for a little bit. Because, you know, it might make Brooke a little happy while she waits for Cristian to get better.

Scratch that

One of the nicer habits Jeff has graced our daughter with is his penchant to stop what he's doing and appreciate the beauty of a sunset, the smell of a bouquet that's just opening up or the sound of a woodpecker blasting through an otherwise silent Sunday morning.

I didn't give her that.

I tend to get all caught up in whatever I'm doing and can't be bothered until I'm done. It's good if I'm on deadline and you benefit from me getting my work done. It's not so good for anyone else.

I'm trying to slow down and be more appreciative, but it's a long held habit and one that's resisting change. I recognize the need, though. So that's step one, right? And I even made some progress this week.

We had a whirlwind kind of anniversary/Valentine's Day. Holidays that fall on weekdays always stress me out because I hate being late for work. HATE it.

So we had a quick early morning flower and gift exchange, then scrammed to work and then back home to get Ali fed and ready for her game where we were scheduled to man the concession stand.

Jeff had sent me fun texts during the day. I saw them, liked them, but only responded once in kind.

When he came in the door, Jeff asked if I'd have dinner with him after her game. "Sure," I said, thinking about what we had on hand.

He suggested the Scratch truck and its infamous "best grilled cheese sandwich in town."

Immeditely, I said, "I can't eat that."

His face fell. "But you and Ali can," I said.

He sighed. All the glee gone from his face. "Crap," I said to myself.

While we were working the concession stand, a man we didn't know came in to check on us. Turns out he was in charge of the gym. Jeff and I had gone to the game straight from work, so he was still in his suit, which may have prompted the gym guy's basketball season memory.

"Hey," he said, catching Jeff's attention,"I sure loved to watch you coach."

They had a little chat as I eavesdropped. He really is a great guy. Good father. Good coach. Gifted at many things I won't tell you about. (You're welcome.)

So I suggested on the way home that he go get us dinner at the http://www.scratchtruck.com

He had Dom Perignon chilling and came back with not just the best grilled cheese in town, but a damn fine burger, some chips and two servings of some high-end chocolate rice pudding garnished with coconut -- a gift from the guy at the truck to whom Jeff chortled that he was picking up his 15th wedding anniversary dinner, which would be paired with fine bubbly.

Did it blow my Weight Watcher's points for the week? Sure. But was it worth it?

Oh yeah.

Banished

There I was in the kitchen, minding my own business, having my coffee and just digging in to the NY Times. Jeff had left for basketball.

A sleepy red-head comes shuffling into the room. "Hey mom," she said.

It was nearly 9 a.m. -- late for her on a weekend but she's got a cough again and I was hoping she'd snuggle in there longer.

She comes close to me. Puts her little head on my thigh and hugs me.

"Hey mom," she says. "When I make my cupcakes this morning, would it be ok if you were, uh well, not in the room?"

I looked down, aghast. Baking and decorating has always been our thing. Sure, we let Auntie Jen in on the fun at Christmastime, but day in, day out, we're a baking-decorating team. It is not a solitary sport. Even when she's the primary and feeling her way with new things, I'm in the room as the advisor.

So here I am in the bedroom. Stupid adolescence.

My friend Lisa did brighten my morning with this gem:
http://www.indystar.com/article/20130207/LIFE/302070035/Valentine-s-Day-What-do-women-really-want

That was a fun day. Long before I'd an ungrateful child who wants to be in charge of her own destiny..... :)

Send your warmest thoughts, if you would, to my family in Maine and anyone else in New England today. Happy Valentine's Day to everyone.

If you were with Jeff and me about a week ago in February (and I wish all my great friends who I met afterward had been there too) the photos are a happy retrospective for me and I think for most of you. David Cowan gets credit for most of them.

I did have a great time that day, and just about every day after.....