running on empty

Picking up Daniel from school yesterday afternoon, he leans over and notices the gas gauge.

Looks like you need gas, Mom. Are you going to get gas now?

No. I’m going to take you home where we will work on your homework. Then I will make dinner while you get ready for Tae Kwon Do.

Then you’ll go get gas? You need to get gas.

I think I’m okay. I’ll probably get gas after I drop you off at school tomorrow morning.

Are you sure?

I’m sure son. Don’t worry.

But he is worried.

This morning as he gets into the car, he leans over and notices the gas gauge.

Mom, you really need to get gas. Are you going to get gas now?

For the record the “low fuel” idiot light hasn’t even turned on yet. According to the car’s computer, I have approximately 75 miles to empty.

After I take you to school, son. It’s okay.

Are you sure?

Yes. Absolutely.

Looking at his face, I can tell that he is not convinced. We arrive at the school and as he gives me a quick kiss goodbye I see him glance at the dashboard again.

Goodbye, Mom. I love you. Don’t forget to get gas, okay?

Love you too, son. Don’t worry.

And with one last glance as he crosses the street, I can tell he is worried…very worried.

No one tell him that I “gambled” and went to Safeway, then Costco, then home BEFORE I drove to Tracy to fill up the mom car because with Safeway Gas Rewards I filled up at $1.51/gallon.

I wonder if he ever does the same thing to his Dad or his sisters.

Picking him up this afternoon I caught him glancing at the gas gauge indicating a FULL TANK as he kissed me hello.

Oh dear…

For the record, I have yet to run out of gas in the the last 34 years of owning and driving a car. Add that to the “Laura’s Successes” list…right under caring and feeding of her five children.

I’m doing okay, son. Promise.

 

 

be warned

When you are out and about anywhere in the Central Valley and you happen to see this beautiful child,

DON’T...I repeat, DO NOT call her a boy. She is going to throw some serious shade your way and will call you out.

But I’m a girl, Mom!, she loudly proclaims as you pass by.

BURN!

Seriously people! A ruffled blouse, jeggings, pink loafers with glitter?!

Oh well! Random strangers can say the stupidest things, I guess.

I’m sorry, Fallon. For what it’s worth, your mommy and aunties often were mistaken for adorable boys too…even when they were three years old and sometimes wearing the most feminine of dresses.. Except for Abby. For some reason, your Auntie Abby was rarely mistaken as a little boy. Abby had curly eyelashes and everyone knows little girls have curly eyelashes. Then again, Daniel has curly eyelashes too…and people often commented that he was a beautiful baby girl. Yeah, random strangers make stupid observations sometimes.

You keep giving them the side eye, fancy girl.

 

 

date night at the museum

Wear something with sparkles, he asks. So I did; because he asked me and it’s date night.

Anything for him because it is date night!

Date Night at the Museum!

It was a perfect date night too. We held hands. Shared pretzels and cheese because popcorn is a no with braces. There was much laughter and whispered conversation about ancient Egyptian burial practice, helping to scatter his great grandmother’s ashes at a place she loved, Christianity, Judaism, Hanukkah, Jesus and Pompeii. We also talked about the fact that this was Robin Williams‘ last onscreen feature film performance and I mentioned that it was also Mickey Rooney’s too. Yes, he asked, Who? I’ll try to rectify that. The best part, besides the sweet good night kiss? My date insisted that we sit through and watch the credits because I love to do that. A first because he usually wants to leave as soon as the story fades to black and in the past has been quite vocal about being forced to sit as the closing credits roll.

It would seem that my date is growing up.

From my date and me, two thumbs up. It’s a fun finale to the Night At The Museum series with a lot of laughs, a little bit of history and definitely some poignant moments.

As for our date night, I can’t wait for the next time. Watching the previews before the movie, we have a list prepared.

still

Most of the presents are wrapped and stacked up under the tree. My darling husband has finally hung the lights outside which is good because no one else on our street has. Slowly, but surely, The Big Top is getting Christmas-ier and Christmas-ier and it is good. It is very good.

Daniel comes to me the other day and says, “So I wrote a letter to Santa. I hope that it’s okay.

First thought: He still believes!

Second thought: Crap! None of these things were on any wish list that he gave me.

Third thought: Crap! I’m already done shopping for him!

Fourth thought: Aw! The first thing he wants to to know is how is Mrs. Claus and if Santa is treating her right. That’s my boy!

Fifth thought: He STILL believes!!

I ignored the spelling error in the letter because he asked about Mrs. Claus and he still believes.

So you want to give this letter to Santa?

Yes. Do you think he’ll like it?

I am absolutely certain that Santa will love it…so will Mrs. Claus.

He blushes.

So much for the letter he received last year, with a nod to Aimee for the great idea. That letter STILL sits on his bedside table and, yes, he re-reads it often.

He believes.

Still.

You know Mom, a lot of my friends at school don’t believe Santa is real.

Yeah?

Yeah. I feel sad for them.

Because they don’t receive gifts anymore?

No. They will always get presents. I’m just sad for them. The magic is gone.

And so he believes. Still.

He is turning thirteen in less than one month…let that sink in those of you following this adventure that I have shared since 2004. He’s turning thirteen…next month.

I’m kind of glad that he believes…still.