Terrapin Station

What We Did on the Beach

We went out last night to show the kids the phosphorescent organisms in the low tide waters after dark.  It was very, very amazing as always.

Then Nancy brought out the many-colored glow sticks, which fastened together to make a long chain.  We found many many fun things to do with them, including making patterns with one or more, and also making a huge chain of them and using for a jump rope.

Spencer got so excited that he rolled around on the sand.  Then he went up to his mom and said, "Are you my TOWEL!?" and chased her around the beach trying to dry himself off on her.  It was riotous.

Today Nancy and my parents and I went out swimming together.  We all got onto the awesome inflatable raft that Jason and Shonna brought. 

These beautiful people make it look very easy to get onto, but let me tell you...it is not the easiest thing to maneuver on.  Especially if you are ... mmm ... a little weight challenged as Nancy and I might possibly be, or ages 76 and 81 as my parents are.  And if you are in a fairly rough surf.  In fact it was kind of like four manatees trying to get on and off.  I can't imagine what we thought we were doing...and with our parents...i can't imagine why no one ended up broken in some way.  Thanks be!

Tonight we went out onto the beach and watched a storm approach and split and come around us on both sides...but we had just a few raindrops.  In the meantime we ate homemade peach ice cream provided by friends Scott and Ginger from down the beach...then we had sparklers to play with, and later "the daddies" set off some bottle rockets. 

Tomorrow we head home. 

18

Today is Brandon's 18th birthday! 

This is a picture from when he was NOT 18, more like 14.  We were on the way home from Galveston beach. 

Here he is at the "REAL" beach, St. Teresa in North Florida, at age 16.  He is on the left...see his gig?  He is looking for flounders. 

I don't have any recent photos of him....He doesn't hold still much.  We are going out to dinner tonight - place of his choice.

Watch over thy child Brandon, O Lord, as his days increase; bless and
guide him wherever he may be. Strengthen him when he
stands; comfort him when discouraged or sorrowful; raise
him up if he fall; and in his heart may thy peace which
passeth understanding abide all the days of his life;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Almost 18

My teenager is going to be 18, the magic age when everything changes (hmm, what is it that really changes?)* IN. ONE. WEEK.  May 23rd.

This has been a very challenging year for all of us.  I am stopping now and thinking: can I remember what it was like to be that age and think I knew everything?  And clearly more than my parents did?

What it was like to be at the brink of a huge change in my life?  My next step was already settled (college, which one, etc.), while his is not yet...and it was still immensely scary for me.  Of course I didn't want to admit that! 

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*Further to "what really changes at age 18" - I did a Google search.  At 18 in Texas, he can now get married without parental consent. 

He can vote. 

Of course he could join the military, hurrah.  Must register for Selective Service.

He can't legally drink in Texas until age 21, but if he joined the Marines, they have lowered the drinking age from 21 to 18 for soldiers on liberty overseas and taking part in official on-base functions.  Now there's an incentive. 

Dartmouth scientists have found that people's brains change significantly after age 18.  Here's the  post-18 year old brain, with areas of change in color:

   

My first thought on seeing this was, is that ALL that's going on in his brain!?  ;)  But wait, I get it.  Areas of change. 

Wikipedia says: 

"Eighteen is also the age in most countries at which a person may appear in a pornographic video, if pornography is legal at all, or express legal consent to sexual relations with another. (Man, I'm glad he doesn't read this blog.  And if he does...B, just because you can do something doesn't mean you should.  Think Brooklyn Bridge.  Think "Jerks"!)

An eighteen year-old is able to purchase goods from television commercials which otherwise would have been a liability issue for the seller.

In addition, eighteen year-olds in the United States have the right to bear arms, own property, get an abortion, donate their body to science, and serve on a jury. With these new privileges come responsibility: eighteen year-olds are tried as adults in court."

What is wrong with teenagers these days?

Ken and I were bemoaning our teenager situation this morning, and he said, "You know when things started to get so bad?  I'll tell you when.  It's when they took capital punishment out of the schools."

* * *

Then we laughed so much we had to roll around on the bed holding our sides.

It's not funny, and I actually don't agree with him, but it helped at that point. 

I don't remember asking for this

My childhood nightmare is where the children yell and holler and fight with the dad.  ('Cause it happened in my childhood, see? not with me, but my older siblings) 

So how is it that I ended up with a teenage stepson fighting with the dad? 

I know, you choose the relationships you get into for a reason.  Clearly I still have work to do with my issues surrounding this!!  I see a wonderful body work therapist weekly and I am now able to be present during an explosion without emotionally running away from home.  My reactions previously used to be something like physical shock. 

Actually, it was thanks to my blogfriend Songbird that I have learned to deal with this as well as I have.  Back in October of 2005 my family had a similar knockdowndragout, and my reaction was very, very bad.  I blogged about it, and Songbird set me on the path to finding the therapist I have now...gave me the words to use in my search.  Thank you, my friend!  (this paragraph has been edited to clarify that I did NOT have a fight with SONGBIRD....! no, no, never ever....)

And in the ensuing time, a lot of bad old memories have gotten unstuck and I have learned some good coping strategies.  There's more to go!  Ken thinks this therapist is totally woo woo and off the wall, but he did comment that I was dealing with the situation very well tonight.  (Um, that would be the success in therapy...)

Oh, the subject of the argument between Ken and Brandon was the parent-taught driver's ed course in which they are engaged (and DID I say this was a bad idea?  huh, DID I?).  On the surface.  In general, it's all about power and control, which Brandon doesn't perceive that he has much of.  I can remember some of that feeling my senior year in high school, but I also think I worked the situation better. 

I think we will all live through this.  I'm grateful to be doing it somewhat better. 

But my throat is hurting again.  Please, please tell me Ken didn't give it back to me!  Off to bed with some brandy & honey.

Parenting in the desert

Brandon did something last night that was either

1) tremendously stupid, or

2) willfully careless. 

Ken had a meltdown over it.  Not that the $150 piece of equipment was destroyed, but that Brandon failed to take the basic care to prevent the problem.  An unhappy night in our house.  I don't deal well with normally calm fathers who melt down (but am doing so much better than I used to!  yay for therapy!!)  Brandon stormed off to his mom's house.

This morning I was doing a little blogsurfing and came across Abi's tale of "times that try a mama's soul and I thought, I am with you sister.  I never had to keep Brandon from running out in the street as a little boy (because I didn't know him then) but I have had the police bring him home for skateboarding in a busy intersection (!!!) and then arguing with the police officer who stopped him.  And um, this was last year when he was 16.

There is something basic about actions and consequences he is not getting.  Just when I see progress, there is something like this. 

Of course, then there will later be something ingenious and progress-like, as with patching his own jeans with dental floss. 

I am shaking my head. 

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Our parish chapter's Daughters of the King officer installation is today.  Please pray for me, Suzie and Meg: the new president, vice-president, and secretary.  And for our whole Chapter of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and for our parish. 

Knitting Camp!

THE CAT IN THE HAT!

FOX IN SOCKS!

Big S little s!  What begins with S?  Socks, shawls, sweaters...yes, Yes, YES!

It is time for the Fifth Annual Wildflower Knitting Camp...Get ready for Green Eggs and Ham, Foxy Socks, Wacky Wool and Yummy Yarns!

I am going to knitting camp this weekend, y'all!  It is really a kids' camp for young knitters 8 and up.  But moms, aunts and grandmothers are invited.  So my mom (75) and I (41) will be the proud escorts of our beautiful Mallory Elizabeth, age 9.  Mallory and I are beginning knitters and mom (a lifelong knitter) is very accomplished. 

Among other things, we will each be dyeing a pair of ankle socks and knitting decorative cuffs for them.  There will be a fashion show, in which I will be thrilled to wear the lovely things Mom has made for me!  There will be an "I'd rather knit than eat" yarn sale, a "Moonlight Madness Sale," and a workshop titled, "Crazy Mazes Mosaic Knitting - Intermediate/Advanced," (which I will NOT be attending, but doesn't it sound cool?)

Of course, as much as anything I'm thrilled to be able to spend this time with two of my favorite women!  Mom and Mally will drive here from West Texas on Friday, we'll continue to Tyler together that afternoon and spend the night in a hotel; then to camp early Saturday morning just outside Tyler.  It runs through Sunday afternoon and they'll spend the night with me on the way back. 

I'll let you know how it goes!  And hope to have pictures to post afterward! 

Boys are smelly

Today I was walking into the office and four young men here at the University for Freshman Orientation were walking along next to me.  I said (as I always do when I see these students) a quick, silent prayer for their peace and courage in this fairly stressful time, and for their success here at the U once the fall starts.  Sweet young things... 

And, as I crossed behind them to go into the building, one of them turned his head and spit tobacco juice onto the pavement.  YUCK!  I closed my prayer with, "And, hey God, do you think you could encourage him to stop doing that!?"

Coming into my office, I found, as I do everywhere, 2 tiny little rubber bands (for braces) on the floor.  Seems that the many packages we received during Brandon's rubberband days are hitching rides with me and reproducing.  I imagine that they have a plot to take over the world, and get to a place of power where they get to restrain bigger and better things than sparsely-whiskered jaws of adolescents. 

No Stress, No Stress...

We're getting ready to take Brandon to the airport for his three-week trip to New Zealand.  I took him to breakfast at IHOP and showed him all the stuff I'd prepped for him - currency converter cheatsheet, International Student ID & insurance, International Calling Card, flight schedule, copies of passport, electric converter & adapter, etc.

He said, "Wow - you're really good at what you do.  I mean, I was just packing my clothes, and you have all this other stuff all ready that I didn't even know I needed!"  I said, "Well, it certainly is nice to hear you say that, but remember I've been preparing people for first trips abroad for 19 years now, so I should be pretty good at it."

This was quite a nice meal and conversation, following an UNBELIEVABLE session where he told me that he didn't have his retainers to take with him on the trip, because he'd left them in Brandon Connelly's backpack.  I said, "Go GET them!"  He said, "I can't, he left for Massachussetts this morning." 

Suffice it to say that I convinced him that Brandon the Two was surely not going to be carrying his (my Brandon's) retainers to MA with him, and that it was incumbent upon him to go and bloody well GET them. 

I am fighting feeling slightly hysterical.  Sending other people's kids off into the sky has always been an occasion for sympathy, but I will probably never do it quite the same way again.   

Nervous?  No, not me!  No way! 

Addition from the next morning: The nice ticket agent was amazed that a boy (tee-hee) the age of her own 17-year-old son was headed off to New Zealand by himself.  Therefore, she offered to allow Ken and me to go back to the gate with him, and made us special fake boarding passes to get through security.  Really nice.  I had no idea that was a possibility! 

We were able to have a relaxed dinner together at TGI Friday's (at DFW, ALL the food is in the secure area) and actually watch him get on the plane.  He was BEAMING with excitement but trying not to! 

When he headed off down the jetway, I ran to watch him walk away.  He was striding along, impatient to meet his new adventure.   Wish I'd gotten a picture of his back but I was not thinking about the camera at that point. 

If you make this photo bigger, you can see that he is pointing to the sign in the back of my car that says Go Away!  This is the logo for our publicity campaign for the Year of Study Abroad. 

A Personal Message to My Dear Brandon

Warning Sign Generator