Naughty Curiosity

I'm a married woman with small children. So I was surprised this week when I felt that little butterfly that you get in your stomach when a really great looking guy glances your way and you catch each other's eye. I blushed and smiled gently. My mind filled with naughty curiosity. Geez, where is this coming from today? What is it about that little wave of chemistry that can be exchanged across a crowded room by two people? How is it that one person can cause a burst of hormones and adrenaline inside your body with nothing more than a look?

I continued to watch him, glancing often in his direction, selfishly hoping for that little wave of butterflies again. Remember that first love feeling? That new love feeling? That obsessed with everything that guy does feeling? That 'I'm just going to drive by your house and hope to see you by chance' feeling? That childlike adventure of love and how just brushing up against that person could turn your world upside down with lust! The first kiss, the anticipation all night of when could it happen. The feeling of his lips against mine - finally. The never want this night to end feeling.

That was exactly the way I felt when I first met Wayne. I was dating a guy I adored, but every time Wayne even walked into a room, my attention focused on him and I became head-over-heels in love. The curiosity and new love. The close 'accidental' encounters, our bodies brushing past one another. The first time we joked around with friends and he grabbed me to tease me and restrain me. I about lost myself. His breath on my cheek. His smiling blue eyes. The way he smelled. It was all I could do to restrain myself and not kiss him...my boyfriend would not have approved.

Nearly 20 years ago, Wayne and I started our love affair. And when he looked at me this week and I fell madly in love with him again, I felt so lucky. I've been blessed with a man that time and time again can give me those little butterflies. No one else has ever done that to me. How great that I feel like leaving my perfect life and sneaking out late at night when my kids are asleep to run off on a passionate, lustful adventure with my own husband.

2008 has been an extraordinary year for him. I think that his energy with life right now leaves him just glowing with pride and passion. His confidence, so subtle, is just sexy to me. The harder he works toward his dream right now, the more I want him. There is just something about a man who knows what he wants and goes for it. It probably doesn't hurt his sex appeal that he wears a uniform too... Today I'm so thankful for my marriage to my best friend.

Lessons from Preschool

I was in the bathroom getting ready for the day as I listened to my kiddos playing nicely together in one of their rooms. Their stuffed animals were acting out life. "Grandpa, come here and make me some breakfast please." "Andi, he is not her Grandpa, he is her daddy even though the daddy and mommy are divorced."

Good grief, I thought to myself. Where is this conversation coming from? They went on with their conversation as if it was common place to have divorced moms and dads. For a moment I was saddened at the life their friends are surrounded with that divorce is common to know and talk about at school. Wayne and I made a decision on how to remove the fear of divorce from our family a few years ago. We are close to a family who went through a divorce and our kids began asking questions. We confidently explained, "Some moms and dads get divorced but they still love their kids. You guys are lucky because you will never have to worry about that. In our family we stick together. We will never get divorced." Wayne and I have been together for nearly 20 years this fall. Through all the ups and downs, it's been clear we'd rather stick them out together. It felt so good to give that promise and confidence to our kids. You could tell they felt good too. The both responded, "Yeah, we stick together in our family!"

So, back to the story...I walked down the hall to find out why the animals were getting divorced.

"So, who is divorced here?" I asked with a half smile on my face.

"Don't worry mom, they still love each other mom," was Tyler's (7) immediate response.

"Yeah mom," Andi (5) piped in with some facts from a friend in her class, "Lisa's mom and dad are divorced, but they still sleep in the same bed!"

wow. too much information.

Conquered, next!

It was summer of 2007 that my dear husband informed me that he would be visiting his brother in NC before his brother's deployment to Afghanistan. They planned to go motorcycle riding since his brother has recently purchased a beautiful new Suzuki. My husband would rent one. Although I was not thrilled of my husband risking his life while on vacation and dying on the road 3000 miles from our home, I gave him my blessing on one condition. I asked him to take a motorcycle safety and endorsement class to brush up on his skills. I also told him that I would join him for the two day class of hands on practice, in class lectures, book work, and full on testing. He was thrilled!

For two days we sat on our motorcycles learning first to correctly mount them, them push them, then start them, finally we were allowed to kick it into gear and feel the friction plate on the clutch grab the motor and zoom we were off! What a thrill. For hours we rode around a huge empty parking lot painted with lines and curves to follow and practice control of starting, stopping, and turning. Then it happened. It was near the middle of day two when I was supposed to start an obstacle course and stop quickly at the end near the orange cones. I completed the course, but when I went to stop I grabbed the hand brake and at the same time gave it more power and gas. You see, some idiot (probably a man) designed the brake and the gas on the same handle. So when my right hand squeezed the break, I also squeezed a bunch of gas right into the motor. Instead of slowing down I was now racing for the edge of the course toward a row of parked cars. I let go of the gas...also letting go of the brake, still careening toward certain doom. Quickly I grabbed the brake again, faster and tighter - this also made me grab the gas and apply it faster and tighter...more gas, more speed, more crap in my pants (and the entire class and two instructors). My total panic set the speeding bike onto a crash pattern. As my bike wobbled violently left and right, left and right, I thought, "This is going to hurt because I'm going to crash!" It was then that I squeezed the brake a third and final time - this time remembering to also squeeze the left hand clutch so that any gas given would not engage the motor. I braked hard, the engine screamed and reved, but this time I stopped. I sat for a few seconds then slowly turned my head to see my instructors shake their heads and give the "Oh shit, we almost lost one" look to each other. I would have been ok at that point to leave the class at the time and never come back.

I began the class fearful to even touch a motorcycle leaning on it's kick stand...but by the time the class had ended I was able to maneuver a figure 8 in a 15 foot box, swerve to avoid an obstacle at 40 mph, safely ride over a piece of wood blocking the roadway, and take a corner with speed and control. It was a mentally and physically exhausting learning experience. Many times during the two days I would smirk just to think that I was actually doing it. I was riding a motorcycle!

Months later an instant message arrived on my computer while I was at work. It read, "Which one do you like?" Pictured were 4 motorcycles that were for sale on Craigslist (damn that Craigslist!). Since we still didn't own one, my husband was still in his year long search to buy one. To make a long story short, my hubby promptly took my, "I like the black one" to heart, contacted the owner, ditched the kids with my dad, and drove out with his buddy to meet with the owner with a load of cash in his pocket. And that was that.


So now we own this bugger. And if I was going to be part in owning it, I was going to not fear riding it...occasionally. So there it sat in our garage. Day after day I would look at it. "I want to try and ride it, but the kids will be done with school in 3 hours and if I crash and end up in the ER, who will get the kids?" I would talk myself out of it over and over. Every day unsure of how I would juggle the crash, the ambulance, giving the EMT's my parents cell phone numbers, reaching my dad, giving him directions to the school to get the kids...Geez, how would I juggle all this while strapped to a back board with a tube down my throat and IV's in my arm?

So one day, I decided to just sit on it. It had been 8 months since our class. I thought it would be a good idea to be restricted by the feel of the helmet and jacket so I put them on and sat on it parked in our garage. I adjusted myself and righted the bike balancing it under me. I reviewed and touched all the controls. It felt good, but not good enough to go for a ride. I got off the bike. I went to take off the helmet and ... panic! I couldn't unhook the chin strap. More panic! I picked at it, pulled at it, pinched my fricking chin tighter in it. I went to a mirror and couldn't manage to see the flipping strap! I thought I would just call Wayne and ask for help - sheer panic - how the hell could I even use a phone, I WEARING a helmet! I began to sweat. My heart pumped faster. I picked and pulled some more, and I felt my panic become full fledged claustrophobia. I guess I could go next door and see if my sweet neighbor would open the door to what would appear to be a 5'8" stranger wearing an all black helmet. Hell no she wouldn't open her door! Finally, I felt the strap budge...it was loosening. Whew. I was able to take the thing off my head. Exhausted by my two minute tantrum, I flopped onto the couch. Gee, this is going to be great! Not.

Since then, I gathered the courage to take the motorcycle around the block while the kids were at school. That day I passed right by Andrea's preschool. Her class was out at recess as I drove by. I wanted to honk and wave, but feared taking my hand off the handle to do so. Watching her mom fly OVER the handle bars and crash into a near-by ditch was not really my intention, so I played it safe and rode by unnoticed.

Last week I drove to my parent's house nearly 5 miles away on major roads. That's when I realized I was now a Hot Motorcycle Mama! I was less than a mile from home when I found myself stopped first in line at the stop line at a light on Hwy 99. In the lane next to me another motorcycle pulled up. Gray hair, beard, skull cap helmet, and an orange Harley Davidson balanced under his Levi's, he looked at me, smiled and said, "Nice bike." Oh yeah baby! This is what it about right? Whatever.

On the way to my parent's house I was stressed like a 16 year old learning to drive a stick shift at every stop, start, and corner. I was ready to quit half way there after making a corner onto a hill where I shifted to neutral instead of second gear. But I made it.

The next night I think I impressed the girls at my monthly Bible Study when I walked in wearing all my gear and carrying this huge black helmet.

Ok, I can ride baby, what's next?

"She is as pretty as a ..."

A few days ago I was kneeling on the cold, hard kitchen floor, leaning over my smallest child. I reached to pull back her hair, to hold it behind her neck and off her face. Weak and visibly shaky she spoke to me over the top of an old bowl held under her chin, "Mom, I've never thrown up without you." I smiled at her and reflected to myself, what an honor it has been to serve her and her brother through all that life has given us. This is what it's all about. This is motherhood. Joy and blessings in all the ups and downs.


Today is Mother's Day. Each of my children have been planning for days with excitement. "Mom!" Tyler (7) invited me over to the easel, "Mom, write down some of your favorite breakfast foods, but don't ask me why, okay?" This last week I spent time in his classroom helping the teacher to get the Mother's Day project completed by each child. For hours I would help create page after page of this lovely book. By Thursday I knew the 10 page book, with a line on each page of a sweet poem written and illustrated by the child, almost by heart. Yet today, when I was presented with the book that Tyler had created, I still cried with joy for the love that he put into his project.


Andi (5) too would remind me daily, "Don't look in my closet mom - your gift is in there!!" Today she was beaming as she cuddled close to my side while she unwrapped each gift for me and gently put it into my lap. The precious words on a small, laminated poster she created made me laugh out loud and cry - tears of laughter streaming down my face - with the love and special thought she put into each line. It reads:

My MOM By Andi
My Mom is special because...she helps me across the monkey bars...even when I couldn't do it!
She is as pretty as a...rose, she is even beautiful right in the morning! Her hair stays in place! (this is where I started to laugh so hard I started to cry - it's so untrue!)
My Mom is so smart, she even knows how to...help Tyler with his homework and make sure he does it right.


This morning my beloved husband was buzzing around to make me a yummy breakfast, answer my every need, and stealing more than his share of wafer cookies at church to feed my sweet tooth and make me giggle. He then put together a nice sack lunch for me to take to the Open House I'm hosting in Seattle today. This afternoon while I'm away he'll do the grocery shopping and create a special 'breakfast' dinner with the kids for my special evening - crepes with raspberry jam and whipped cream, YUM! I am spoiled!


I watched both of my kids preform at church today. Andrea in her preschool group was chosen to play the bells for a special song. Those sweet little 3 to 5-year-olds sang their hearts out. Tyler, also chosen to play an instrument, was my little drummer boy standing tall as he tried to sing and tap the correct beat on the African drum he held. I was so proud of both of them. I thank God for all that he has given to me and this life that I am privileged to live!


Blessings to all you proud mom's out there. What a joy!