Sethspeak

As most of you know, our nearly nine-year-old son Seth is considerably younger than our other children. In fact, he is a full seven years younger than his next older sibling Eli, who is sixteen. That place in the family carries both advantages and disadvantages. Seth has literally grown up in a teenage world. Luke and Shulamith were teenagers when he was born, and Isaiah and Eli are teenagers now. He would tell you that it "sucks" to be the baby of the family. Everyone else gets to do whatever he or she wants, or so it seems to Seth. On the other hand, living in a teenage world offers Seth a perspective that he might not otherwise have. He is an expert at videogames. He is exceptionally well informed about all sorts of metal and rock bands. He can text message with the best of them. Yet it about makes him crazy that he isn't allowed to drive a car or have a job.

Occasionally, though, we'll have a conversation to remind me that he really is only eight. And I love that. I don't want him to be one day older than he is. Eight, going on nine, is absolutely perfect. Two such conversations occurred this past week.

Seth went on a field trip to some sort of wildlife exhibit.

Seth: We saw red-eyed tree frogs there. They were so cool.

Me: Really? Tell me about them.

Seth: Well, they are very dangerous because they are almost extinct!

Me: Really? Almost extinct?

Seth: Yes, there are only three of them left in the whole world.

Me: Only three in the whole world? And you saw one of them right here in Billings?

Seth: Yes, we did. It's probably the only one I'll ever see in my whole life because they are almost extinct.

Me: What did you learn about them?

Seth: They are very important because we need them to live.

Me: We do? Why?

Seth: Because they give us pollution.

Me: Pollution?

Seth: Yes, they give us air pollution and water pollution. And we have to be very quiet around them.

Me: Why?

Seth: Because noise kills them, and I told you they are almost extinct!


Later in the week, I left Seth home with only Luke. Ordinarily, that would not be a problem, but Luke was sound asleep after working a graveyard shift the previous night. Before I left, we discussed the situation.

Me: Okay, Seth, Luke is here, but he's very tired because he was up all night last night at work. So you need to be quiet, and only wake Luke up if it's an emergency.

Seth: An emergency?

Me: Yes.

Seth: Like if I get hungry?

Me: No! That is NOT an emergency. Only wake Luke up if it's a REAL emergency.


Later, Luke woke up and realized Seth was there alone.


Luke: Seth, where is everyone? Who is taking care of you?

Seth: You are.

Luke: But I've been sleeping. I haven't been watching you.

Seth: Mom said I could only wake you up if it's an emergency. And that is not if I get hungry.

Luke: What do you think would be an emergency?

Seth: If the house is burning down or if someone is stealing our cars.


Yes, Seth is eight. Going on nine. And that is the perfect age for him to be.

Mom! All Your Other Sons Got To Grow Up

As an introduction, may I begin with a recent phone conversation I had with Seth. It occurred when I was away this past weekend in Red Lodge, and Seth was at home with his three big brothers.

Seth: Mom, I only have 4-1/2 more days of school.

Me: That is so exciting. Summer is almost here.

Seth: Then I'll be a fourth grader!

Me: Oh no, that can't be true. That is such a grown-up grade to be in. Maybe there's some mistake.

Seth: Mom! All your other sons got to grow up, and I get to too.

Alas, he is so right. Sunday evening, we attended commencement exercises for the Skyview High School Class of 2009 and watched Isaiah receive his diploma. We waited in anticipation for the announcement of his name and then watched him saunter across the stage to shake hands with the principal. He then made his way through the faculty receiving line, hugging several teachers along the way. After all the other graduates' names were announced, the highlight of the evening was when the Chorale graduating seniors sang. They did a lovely job as always. And then, caps were tossed into the air, shouts of joy echoed through the Metra Park Arena, and the celebrating began.

As a classic middle child, Isaiah has always been quiet, calm, requiring little. Yet he gives so much to us. He is sure and steadfast. He is kind and thoughtful. He is a great example to his two younger brothers. We love you Isaiah, and we are proud of you.

"Mom! All your other sons got to grow up." Indeed, but Seth, that doesn't mean you have to rush.

Imagine

Imagine two glorious days in Red Lodge, Montana.

Imagine a bakery with the mouth-watering aroma of freshly baked turnovers, scones, muffins, cinnamon rolls, and cream puffs.

Imagine a drive up the Beartooth Highway to where snow covers the ground as far as one can see.

Imagine a hike up the side of a mountain, climbing, climbing, climbing the whole way. Tough? Yes, but imagine the calories burned and the future food consumption that makes possible.

And speaking of food...

Imagine an elegant, candlelit dining room serving artistically designed plates of Filet Mignon or salmon with scallops. Imagine pudding topped with fresh raspberries or homemade cheesecake with strawberry glaze.

Imagine an historic hotel and a room with foil-wrapped chocolates on the pillow cases and a large jacuzzi bath.

Imagine a breakfast of omelets, hash browns, lemon raspberry muffins, and herbal tea, served outside on a shaded patio.

Imagine a gentle 5-mile hike through sparse forest with the constant roar of a stream rushing by.

And if this isn't enough, just wait...

Imagine half way through that hike, the crash of thunder overhead, followed by the downpour of rain (and even some hail) moistening the ground and freshening the air.

Imagine two glorious days in Red Lodge, Montana.

Bittersweet

I first truly understood the meaning of the word "bittersweet" nearly three years ago when we left Luke at the Missionary Training Center in Provo, Utah. I was so happy for him. There was nothing in the world I would rather see him do at that exact time than serve a mission for our church. It was joyous indeed, yet I cried tears of sadness for the two-year separation to come. I knew he would grow and change so much, and other than weekly emails and phone calls on Christmas and Mother's Day, I would miss all of it. Just before we said our final goodbye, the MTC President announced that we would sing the hymn "Called to Serve," and he admonished us to stand up and "sing it like you mean it!" So through bittersweet tears, we stood and sang, all of us parents who would not see our sons and daughters for two whole years.

Since that time, with my increased understanding of the word "bittersweet," I have experienced it in many other situations although most probably not with the same intensity as that day at the MTC. One such experience occurred last evening when I attended a choir concert at Skyview High School, Isaiah's final concert of his high school career. Isaiah has sung in choir all four years, so Seth and I are veteran concert attenders. Several times each year, much to Seth's dismay, we head to the high school to watch Isaiah (and for the past two years, Eli as well) sing in various concerts. Isaiah has always said he doesn't much like to perform; he takes choir as a break in his day from several difficult, honors-level classes. Still, last night, I think he began to know the meaning of "bittersweet," as the graduating seniors stood in a semi-circle, held hands, and sang Josh Groban's "You Raise Me Up."

Following the singing were the senior awards presentations. The choir director gave awards for "Most Valuable" and "Most Improved" choir students, based on a vote of the 40-member choir. Isaiah, who never expected to win anything, was awarded "Most Improved Choir Student."

Bittersweet. So many events in life are like that. I expect another dose of it this Sunday when I watch Isaiah graduate. He is, after all, one of the "little boys." Before we had Seth, we had two distinct sets of children: the big kids (Luke and Shulamith), and the little boys (Isaiah and Eli.) So how on earth is it possible that one of my "little boys" is graduating from high school? Tell me how this is possible. How is it possible that he is also now, without question, the tallest member of the family, towering over both his father and Luke. I just blinked, and he was entering kindergarten. Really, it was only a second ago.

Bittersweet.

Impulse Purchase

So I did it. I actually bought my own longboard. Admittedly, it was a bit of an impulse purchase. Here's what happened.

When I was in Salt Lake City with Shulamith last week, we rode her longboard several times. As I mentioned in an earlier blog entry, it was scary at first but got easier and more fun each time. By the end of the week, I could actually ride it all on my own, and I was just beginning to get the hang of using my body to make turns. Then I was home with no longboard.

Saturday night, Luke and I decided to go to the brand new theatre here in Billings to watch "Angels and Demons." We arrived early, so we opted to roam the mall to use up time. When I saw Zumies, I thought, "Let's just wander in and look at longboards." That we did. And right there in front of me was not just any board, but Shulamith's exact board! The attraction to this board was that I already knew I could ride it. It already felt comfortable. So without much thought or hesitation, I bought it! Then I panicked. What if it was just a fluke in Salt Lake City and I can't really ride this thing? What if I just wasted my money? Maybe I should have put more thought into this purchase?

Since Saturday, I've been able to go out riding three times. It is so fun. Yesterday, I finally found the perfect hill for my beginner-level skills. It's a nice, gentle incline, so I don't get going too fast too soon. I will go back and practice there again today.

I had been thinking lately that I needed a new hobby this summer, something other than P90X and walking. I considered cycling or ice-skating or swimming. But I think this longboard is exactly what I needed. I've promised myself that I won't ride it each day until I've completed my P90X routine. Discipline here is key.

This was a good impulse purchase.

Angst

The Germans have a lovely word: angst. So lovely is it that it has made its way into the English language as well. I think the beauty of the word is that in a single syllable, it embraces so many complicated emotions. Angst - a feeling of apprehension, dread, and anxiety, often accompanied by sadness or depression. Today, as I sit in the Denver Airport on my way back to Billings, I am consumed with feelings of angst. It is always so when I have to leave Shulamith.

This August it will be five years since we first brought Shulamith to Salt Lake City to begin her college years. It feels like only the blink of an eye. In that 5-year period, I have made thirteen trips to Salt Lake City to visit her, and she's been home at least that many times. She has also spent three of those five summers with us in Billings. Still, it never gets any easier to leave her. I am reminded of the first time we left her in August 2004. On the drive back to Billings, I cried so hard that we were pulled over by the police while on the freeway. We were baffled by what could be wrong. The young trooper asked me to step out of the car and to follow him back to his vehicle, which felt like miles behind. Once there, he told me he had been watching us the past two hours, noticing me sobbing the entire time. He said they were experiencing many cases of domestic violence, and he wanted to know if he could help me in any way. When, though continuous sobs, I explained that I just left my only little girl at college and had to go all the way back to Billings without her, he politely told me to "have a good day."

Five years later, you would think I might have better adjusted to this separation. With the miracle of modern technology, Shulamith and I are able to communicate several times daily through email and several times weekly through cell phone calls and text messages. I really am so lucky. Still, here I sit in the Denver Airport fighting back tears. I ask myself if my life is really so pathetic that I can't handle "normal" situations like my 23-year-old daughter living ten hours (or an expensive airplane flight) away. Waiting at home in Billings, I have a wonderful family which includes not one, not two, not three, but FOUR wonderful sons. I have one of my two closest friends (the other moved to Texas last year) also waiting for me. And still, I cry. I usually only get to spend a long weekend in Salt Lake, but this time I was there an entire week. You'd think that would make it easier to leave. It doesn't. It just never gets any easier. I tell myself I need to suck it up, seriously, because this is ridiculous. But the tears still flow.

Instead of whining, perhaps I should focus on the highlights of our fun-filled week. That would be more interesting, right? Let's see. As always, we saw our share of movies, four to be exact. We watched "Duplicity," "Bride Wars," "Taken," and "17 Again." We enjoyed all of them. "Duplicity" was confusing, but we liked it anyway. "Taken" was a bit violent but still a great story. "Bride Wars" and "17 Again" were both hilarious, which is why we watched them toward the end of the week so as not to exacerbate my downward spiral.

We also did plenty of shopping, our #1 favorite activity. Shulamith bought several items for her new apartment; she and her roommate will be moving next week because their other roommate went to Argentina. And we ate lots of wonderful food, hitting all of our standards (Cafe Rio, Pei Wei, Park Cafe) as well as a few new restaurants. We spent two fun days in Shulamith's kindergarten class with 20 extremely busy, but also extremely cute little kids.

The new attraction of the week was longboarding. Shulamith has a new friend who enjoys longboarding, so she has learned to do it in the past couple months and has even purchased her own board. So of course, I had to try it. I love it! Really, it is so fun. It was scary at first; I hung on tight to Shulamith as she walked, and eventually ran, beside me. By my third time, though, I was able to do it all on my own. Slowly. Very slowly. I am supremely cautions. I have no desire to fall. It was such fun, though, that I seriously may buy a board myself. I've been thinking lately that I need a hobby other than exercising, and this just might be it.

Okay, it looks like my flight to Billings may be boarding soon. I should go wash my face and rinse my red, swollen eyes. At least I was smart enough to skip my make-up today.

Angst. The Germans have a good word.

Kindergarten Logic

I had the privilege to spend today in Shulamith's kindergarten class. I had many delightful conversations with her students and even learned some things I did not know. To preserve anonymity, I will change all the children's names.

First, I had a nice chat with Jillian.

Jillian: What's your name again?
Me: Terrianne
Jillian: How old are you?
Me: How old do you think?
***Long pause***
Me: Take a guess. How old do you think I am?
Jillian: Fourteen?

Now those of you who know me well will laugh here because as you know, I have serious age issues, and I'm perfectly thrilled when people guess I am in my 30s. But fourteen? That's a first.

Next, Shulamith and I were complimenting Angela, a little girl who often has a difficult time behaving like a kindergartner. She had an especially good day, so we told her we would write a note telling her mom what a great day she had.

Angela: You don't need to write a note?
Shulamith: Why not?
Angela: Because my mom is picking me up, so you can just tell her.
Shulamith: Really? Where is Jennifer (baby-sitter who usually picks up Angela)?
Angela: Oh, she's not around any more.
Me: Where is she?
Angela: I think she died.

We really hope this isn't true!

Then Shulamith was working one-on-one with a little boy named Jack. Right in the middle of Shulamith asking him a question about the story they were reading....

Jack: Ms. Shulamith, I can buy you brush for your hair.
Shulamith: Do you think I need one?
Jack: Yes, you do, and I would like to buy you one.

Bad hair day, Shulamith??

Another chat with Angela later.

Me: You read that whole book by yourself! You sure do read well.
Angela: I'm the best reader in the whole class. Actually, I'm the smartest person in the class too.
Me: Really?
Angela: Do you see this table? The kids at this table are the smartest kids, and I'm the smartest of us all.

Self-confidence? No problem. Humility? Not so much.


My visits with the kindergartners made me miss Seth, so I called him. He was at Lindsey's house playing the Wii, so he wasn't interested in talking.

Seth: Hello
Me: Hi Seth! How are you?
Seth: Good.
Me: Are you doing okay without me?
Seth: I like it here without you.
Me: You do? Why?
Seth: Because we can keep the house dirty, and you don't boss us around.
Me: Well, don't you miss me just a little bit?
Seth: I miss you about one-half.
Me: Well, I miss you a whole bunch. See you Thursday.
Seth: Bye.

And there you have it....my conversations with children for the day. Shulamith has a substitute tomorrow so we can play, but Wednesday we'll be back in class. Maybe I'll learn some more then.