Home, part IV

Finally! Here is part IV. If you haven't caught any of the Home Series, read Home, part I, Home, part II, and Home, part III. I hope you're enjoying our adventures! Please let me know what you think!

We sat and relaxed for a short time, about 5 minutes, before SmallBoy and PC decided it was time to build a sand castle. The little girl who had come down and set up camp while her friends went in the lake was still sitting by herself, keeping watch. PC thought that perhaps this might be an opportune moment to work on social skills with SmallBoy by having him invite her to come and join them. He and I discussed it and decided that would be a great idea. PC asked SmallBoy if it would be alright if the girl joined in the construction of the castle, and SmallBoy agreed; she came down to the beach with boys so she can’t have TOO MANY cooties. Next step: get SmallBoy to go ask her to join the fun.

“Hey, SmallBoy. How about going over and asking that little girl to come and play with us?”

“Cool.”

“SmallBoy, why don’t you walk over, introduce yourself, and see if she would like to help?”

“Nah.”

SmallBoy was fully engrossed in the idea of the sand castle and, although he was not averse to having someone new join in the fun, he was not about to stop what he was doing in order to take the necessary steps to have that happen. Instead, PC, being the true gentleman that he is, walked over to her, introduced himself, SmallBoy, and me. She said her name was G. He asked her if she had a cottage in the park or if she was just visiting, she was visiting. Her mother was painting a mural inside a friend’s newly purchased cottage, and the kids had come along for the vacation. WOW! She was one luck girl! She said one of the boys in the water was her brother, E, and the other, M, was the son of the woman who owned the cottage where her mother was painting. PC asked G if she would like to come and help. She declined. I couldn’t tell if it was a decline because she wanted to stay put in spectator mode or if it was that she was told by her mom not to do anything until she arrived on the beach.

PC and SmallBoy returned to their building. The first part of their construction was to dig deep enough in the sand to reach water and create a pool for the castle. They set this part in the wettest sand, closest to the breaking waves. The concept was to have the pool fill as the waves crashed in. Brilliant idea, we thought. The hole was dug about a foot and a half across and probably about 6 inches deep. Next they began to line the inside of the pool with medium-sized beach rocks to fortify the inside walls….it was all about the strength of the pool and how it would stand strong against the attacks from the water. The next step was the fortification of the pool’s exterior. Large rocks were chosen for stabilizing the gate walls of their castle. In comparison to the interior rocks, these were boulders. By no stretch of the imagination were these rocks really boulders, or even the size of bricks, but when side-by-side with the rocks holding up the inside walls, they were enormous, and considerably heavier. Each rock was chosen on its weight, its shape, and its “coolness”, because you know a man’s castle must be cool, and therefore, his pool cannot be anything less.

Once the pool’s gates had been strengthened, it was time to begin decorating/fortifying the outer walls – they said fortify, I said decorate. PC began by making drizzle castles along the upper rim of the pool, the part that was level with the beach. All along the perimeter of the pool stood individual drizzle castles. For those of you have not had the joy of making a drizzle castle, the process is a simple one: Fill your hands with wet sand and drizzle it into a pyramid-ish shape. As the castle forms, it takes on the effect of those drip candles – you know, in college, the ones we all used to stick in the chianti bottles and melt (and then burn another one in a different color) – each layer dripping down onto the one beneath, until the “castle” has formed a steeple-like peak. I thought they looked like a forest of pine trees that had been caught up in a sudden sand storm. With the forest of castles firmly in place, or as firm as sand can be anyway, PC and SmallBoy decided it was time to add the pebbles to decorate/fortify the outer walls of the pool. For strength, they scooped up handfuls of rocks and pebbles of many sizes, shapes, and colors, and packed them into the side walls. This took quite a while, considering the size of our castle pool.

PC and SmallBoy were busily tending to their magnificent creation, when one of the boys came in from the water and asked if he could help. He introduced himself as E. He told us that the girl on spectator duty, whom we had already met, was his sister G. E immediately set about helping to gather pebbles and add them to the walls; and just in time, too! The next thing we knew, the waves had a sudden surge and were crashing even harder on the beach. It seemed that our mighty fortress was under attack! It was quite a sight watching two boys and a grown man rushing with an intense urgency to protect and save their creation. G. saw the urgency with which the guys were rushing up and down the beach and finally came over and asked if she could join in the fun. OF COURSE!

Finally, after what seemed like eons, the waves eased, the “ocean” subsided, and the fort was safe. SmallBoy and E thought that in celebration, they would take turns burying each other in the sand. The began digging a hole with their hands, like dogs – or primitive men. PC saw that if they continued digging this way, the process would take the entire weekend. He jumped right in with the boys, helped dig, and offered “digging advice” on how to maximize their project with minimal work. They became so carried away with their digging, that the hole was big enough to bury both boys…which was exactly what they did. SmallBoy and E sat facing each other, cross-legged, and PC buried them up to their shoulders. G came over and taunted her brother, all the while, the boys just laughed. To bust out of their entombment, they both used the Incredible-Hulk-Break-Out method, flexing their 8 & 9 year old muscles until the sand finally broke away.

Covered in sand, there was only one thing to do…and they got right back in the water. As I looked up from writing about the fortress building, I saw PC, SmallBoy, E, & G all back in the water. SmallBoy flopped in to get off all of the sand, E did the same, G took great joy as she splashed her brother, and PC, well, he was enjoying being a kid – a grown up kid, mind you. No one said that we ALWAYS need to act our age, right?

PC and SmallBoy took one last trek out to the sandbar. There, they met the other boys who had come down with E & G. These boys were a bit older, more like 11 & 12. For the rest of the afternoon, they surfed the waves, splashed each other, jumped, flopped, and bellyflopped over the waves. When they finally came back into shore, they were breathing heavy, their lips were back to blueberry purple, and they were shivering. Exhausted? Yes. Done for the day? Definitely. Ready for more tomorrow? OH YEAH!

As I folded up the beach chairs, gathered the cooler, the towels, and my writing, the guys made one last fortification effort for the afternoon. The waves had, once again, become stronger, which made it quite apparent that something was blowing in from the west. If our castle had any hope of surviving the impeding storm, it needed more strength. PC and SmallBoy packed in the beach rocks and pebbles as much as they could. We bid farewell to our castle, imprinted it on our memory, and headed back up to the cottage. Our hope was to come back down and have a beach fire that night with G, E, S – their mom, and the family they were staying with – to roast marshmallows, drink beer (and juice boxes), and have fun. We hoped that the weather would cooperate.

SmallBoy demonstrated, once again, his amazing memory and his growing familiarity with the park, as he led us back to the cottage down the path. I was certain that this had become his favorite route, but couldn’t decide if it was because it was shorter, because it was woodsy, or because it was just “cool.” As we walked, though, our stomachs growled in hunger. We had not brought any snacky food to the beach with us, just juice and beer. The guys worked much harder and, were therefore, much much hungrier than I. We had two choices for dinner: more hot dogs or pizza from DiMaggio’s – the world’s best pizza (outside of Chicago, that is). Gee, which would you have picked?

As the cheese formed a tightrope between our mouths and our pizza, our tummies made more noise – this time in gratitude. We talked about our plans for the evening. PC and I watched with concern as the sky darkened and the wind began to pick up. SmallBoy was so set on going to the beach fire. We were worried that this might totally throw him off. We had made it a point, as we progressed through the day, to stress to SmallBoy that even when we try to plan things, sometimes they have to change; that as early as that morning when we left, the weather forecast had predicted rain, and had made us aware that we might have to have a Plan B for the night time hours. While we sat. devouring our pizza with the ferocity of wild beasts, the rain began to fall. It was a light rain, which left us some hope that it would lift and pass before it was time to go down to the beach fire. We made our way home, changed our clothes, and relaxed on the screened in porch while we digested our dinner and formulated Plan B – all the while, we prayed we wouldn’t have to use it.

Home, part III

I truly hope you're enjoying our adventures. If you're stopping by for the first time in our tale, be sure to check out Home, part I and Home, part II to catch up on our trip with SmallBoy. Just a short weekend trip, but full of fun! I'd love to know how you're enjoying the tale so far. Feel free to leave me a comment or two at the end!

SmallBoy exhibited his incredible memory for directions and routes by leading us back to the beach through the secret path, one of the many shortcuts between our cottage and the rest of our community. This path, as with the last, was wooded. The floor was dirt, leaves, tree roots, sand, sticks, and stray, often crushed, acorns (ever so painful when stepped on with a bare foot). It was a quick path, but for the inexperienced its narrowness and unpredictability - as far as the texture of the ground awaiting each footstep, can hold a bit of a scary-factor; not scary movie-scary, just an uncertainty, a fear of the unknown, mild fear for safety. SmallBoy was very pleased that he was able to be the guide, and told us as we proceeded, where we were on the path and what was coming next. I was very impressed, but yet again, not surprised, at his knowledge. It’s that Aspie-ness, again – the memory, the detail, etc. PC had told him, “Ok, SmallBoy, you lead the way, we’ll follow you, but ask us if you are unsure of where to go next.” He never asked, never even hesitated.

With the path behind us, we again took to the road. PC stopped us to show SmallBoy something that had completely amazed him as a child. Secluded, though the park may be, it is not primitive; there IS electricity running through it, as well as phone lines. PC and I have had the great fortune to have been young children when Star Wars was originally released in the theaters in the 70's – the FIRST episodes, as far as we’re concerned. Correction: I had the great fortune to have been a young child when Star Wars was originally released in theaters. PC, well, he was still on his trike. Nonetheless, there are certain things about those movies that get permanently lodged in the memories of anyone who saw them while growing up – when the imagination had not been overtaken by reality, when the creative things we would make up and pretend still ran rampant in play. Star Wars, and everything about it, was one of those things.

PC not only shares a love for the Star Wars movies, but for film and movie making. He loves to watch special features and find out how certain things were originally done, researched, pulled off. He can tell you if a movie was shot on film or tape (and we hear about it quite a bit, as LargeBoy also shows an interest in studying film). One of the first times that PC took me to Michigan, before we were married, he wowed me with his knowledge of special effects, particularly sound effects. He relayed this knowledge to SmallBoy who can find amazement in most things, and who was astounded by this new revelation. It blew his socks right off.

We had stopped on the road after emerging from the path. I mentioned earlier that the park was fully equipped with phones and electricity. Above our heads, of course, ran the electrical and phone lines for the park. PC said, “Hey, SmallBoy! Wanna hear something cool? Wanna hear a Star Wars sound?” At the mention of Star Wars, SmallBoy’s excitement and interest piqued. He looked curiously around at the land and homes around us while he attempted to figure out just exactly how, and from where, PC was going to summon up a sound from Star Wars. As before, PC took on the role of teacher and explained to SmallBoy that when George Lucas was making the first (OUR generation’s first) Star Wars movie, he had trouble finding a sound for the lasers and light sabers. That explained, PC took a rock and, on the first shot, nailed it against one of the power lines. The sound of the hit, coupled with the vibration of the wire, created a sound much like the lasers and light sabers. PC further explained to SmallBoy that before they had the technology to recreate this sound, that the rock against the wire trick was used to actually capture the sound, and then the sound was manipulated to form exactly the effects they were seeking. Tweaked one way the sound would represent a light saber engaged in battle, another, a light saber being powered up, yet, tweaked another would mimic a shot from the laser on and X-Wing or Tie Fighter. This new information fascinated SmallBoy, at least momentarily before he refocused on the task at hand, getting to the beach. I can promise you, though, that for the rest of his life, when he watches Star Wars, SmallBoy will be reminded of the creation of the sound effects and, more than likely, will share that knowledge with everyone he can.

We picked up our journey once more and walked, still barefoot, to the beach. It took the guys only moments to scope out just the right spot, take in the view of the waves crashing on to the beach, plop down their stuff and head straight into the water. It was quite obvious that this was what they had been waiting for, since 5:18 that morning (and probably before). The waves had increased from earlier in the morning when the water was still quite calm, making them ideal for some serious beach play. I’d like to say that the guys stopped and checked to see if the water had warmed at all and then gently waded in, allowing their bodies to gradually get used to the temperature. I’d like to say that they were cautious. I’d like to say many things, but I would be stretching the truth - more like outright lying. They threw caution to the wind, and tore right into the lake as if they had been traveling through the desert and had finally reached a giant oasis, not wasting any time indulging in the pleasures it provided. They were such happy campers.

PC had already explained to SmallBoy that Lake Michigan, at least our part of Lake Michigan, has a very strong undertow. That, of course, entailed explaining an undertow and how it can just sneak up, grab you in its clutches and whisk you away. He explained the dangers of fighting the undertow and what to do if he got caught. Our hope was that this would scare the bejeezus out of SmallBoy so that he would be extremely cautious, and he was. Sometimes we have to take advantage of the Asperger's to instill the importance of a particular issue. In this instance, it worked. SmallBoy desperately wanted to go out to the sandbar, but knew that he shouldn’t go out on his own. PC went in with him, as they had run into the water together, an image of Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum imprinted itself on my memory, and he surmised that the water was safe enough for the sandbar - IF they went out together. PC let me know it was ok by shaking his hands over his head while flashing me this devilishly goofy up-to-no-good grin. Then, before I knew it, all I could see was the back of my guys as they waded and swam and splashed their way out to the sand bar.

I didn’t really pay too much attention to them, as I was engrossed in reading my book and bathing in the warmth of the sun's mid-August rays that reached down to embrace me on the beach. I will, no doubt, end up all wrinkled and skin cancer-y because of my extreme distaste for sunblock, but, despite my Italian DNA, the sun completely passes over me if I even apply an SPF 1. I could be slathered in baby oil, basking in the sun, being pummeled over and over by UVA & UVB rays and get nothing. If my body manages to gain some color, it’s usually just something fleeting that peels, tanned or burned, within two weeks. Hmmph!

While I read and tried to steal some rays, a group of kids came down to the beach. The boys immediately dove into the water, leaving the little girl alone to set up camp. She planted the big black and aqua blue umbrella into the sand, opened it so wide that I was afraid it would gobble her up, assembled her beach chair, and plopped in, arms folded, watching the boys. She seemed resigned, as was I, to sit in the chair and spend the afternoon as a spectator. I could still see PC and SmallBoy bopping around and splashing and leaping into the waves, and she could see her friends doing the same. After much splashing, my guys came in to the shore, PC with an exhausted SmallBoy at his side. Naturally, I thought that this was it, that SmallBoy was ready to head back. Nope. No way, Jose. This was only the beginning.

Home, part II

I'm posting this as Girl leaves with S to head back to Michigan for a few days, not our Home, but Saugatuck, which is pretty damn close to it. If you missed the first part, click here to read part I. Continue on here with part II:

Our tummies happy, and full of cheese dogs (we eat simple to maximize “out time”), we set out towards the dunes for our next adventure – walking off our lunch! I think I managed to convince SmallBoy that barefooting was not bad, he quite enjoyed it. We walked down the dirt roads, feeling the sand work it’s way in between each toe. Part of being barefoot, is sucking it up when you step on something. Gravel was tolerable, sticks were ok as long as they didn’t find their way under a toenail, but Super-“Hey-SmallBoy,-why-don’t-you-go-barefoot”-Mom, managed to step on a BIG rock that had lodged itself in the road. As the pain shot through my foot, I had to choke back the urge a) to yell out one obscenity after the other and b) to be a big baby because I had an owie. Instead I let out the tiniest of whimpers; enough that PC could catch on that I had done something or other, but not enough to let SmallBoy catch on and become worried that he, too, might suffer the same fate. By no stretch of the imagination was this just a tiny-whimper-able pain. The pain zinged its way through my heel, and reminded me more and more of my carelessness with every step…at least for the next 20 or 30 steps. I bucked up and walked it off. Try as I might to keep SmallBoy from experiencing my pain, Fate saw fit to place another rock in the road, this one with his name on it. Somehow, though, I think my example helped him to suck it up…he knows I’m a wuss. I could almost see the gears turning in his brain thinking out the logistics of this incident, “Hmmm, Mom’s a big baby when it comes to pain and SHE was ok and walked it off. Perhaps it doesn’t hurt as much as I think it does. I’ll just be a big kid and walk it off.” And that’s exactly what he did.

Both of our heels recovered in time to take the curve and walk down the gravel road leading to the Mama Dune, the largest and steepest of the dunes that are accessible for hiking. Behind the Mama Dune is, of course, the Daddy Dune, but he’s much too tall for my liking and, much too overgrown for climbing (this is beginning to sound like a story about a little blonde girl and some bears, isn’t it?). Mama looked rather intimidating to me and, conveniently my knee had begun to ache – no, seriously, it really did. I thought it would be much more important for PC & SmallBoy to get some more male bonding time together, so I opted to stay put in the warm sand while the boys began their upward trek. As I lay in the sand, feeling the sun begin to tingle my skin, I had the opportunity to witness a grasshopper, carefully camouflaged with its surroundings, as it leapt from one patch of dune grass to the next. It was rather intriguing to watch this tiny little creature carefully stalk something, watch its prey escape, and then witness its graceful flight to the next target.

When I looked up from my grasshopper observations, SmallBoy and PC were almost up the dune. SmallBoy was getting a little discouraged and began to give up. Instead, PC urged him forward. I couldn’t hear what he said, but it was something to the effect of, “Hey, SmallBoy, you’re already farther than Mom – look where she is!” Nah, he didn’t say that, but I wonder if the thought crossed his mind. With PC’s cheering, SmallBoy made it to the top. I looked up at them and thought about how wonderful and comforting it is that PC is so incredible with my SmallBoy. Not many men will take to a step-child, especially one who needs so much extra love and guidance, and not only help him and teach him, but love him and treat him with the respect that he deserves. I can see how much PC genuinely loves SmallBoy – and all of my children, but this observation was with SmallBoy. He loves him as if he were his own blood. Part father, part teacher, part cheerleader, part Good Cop, and part Bad Cop; that’s what I see. The love just pours out of PC…and so does the fun and adventure. No sooner had I finished having this wonderful moment with my guys, did they begin their descent down the dune, barreling toward the bottom like racehorses let loose from the gate. PC had already warned SmallBoy about where to keep his body weight to minimize the odds of falling, but really - isn’t that the goal, to fall down the dune? It truly is just a matter of how far down the fall happens and how magnificently the fall is executed.

About a quarter of the way down, SmallBoy wiped out, face first into the sand. PC stopped and sat to catch his breath, while SmallBoy laid there motionless, arms and legs strewn into funky positions. I can’t honestly say that I knew without a doubt that he was ok; I suspected he was just fine, but I’m a mom, the immediate instinct is the injured child. My first thought was, “OH MY GOD!!!!!!!! SmallBoy’s hurt!” Of course he wasn’t, it was just the drama and the trauma of the fall, oh yes, and the face full of sand. The fear was fleeting as he started flopping around in an attempt to justify how the fall was absolutely NOT his fault and WHY did he fall and it was SO NOT FAIR that he fell. I think his outburst was a little bit of Aspie and a lot of trying to save face – he is, after all, a male. Checked ego in tow, and a bounding PC at his side, SmallBoy finished the descent down the dune – laughing, screaming, running full speed and, of course, completing the run by telling me I was a wuss for not going. Little did the guys know that they would have had to carry me back to the cottage, because my knees were not very happy, and probably would have totally cashed out on me had I trekked up and run down the Mama Dune.

Having come down from the proverbial mountain, we headed over to the Sugar Bowl dune. This one is not nearly as large or as intimidating. It is named for the high back and sides of the dune, and the dip as it curves inward – like a bowl, known as a parabolic dune. The dune, itself, may not seem intimidating, but it is the source of some local park lore. I can’t remember the year, but I believe it was early 20th century, as it was originally told, two boys, had been tunneling in the dune when it had collapsed on them, burying them alive. The boys were never seen again, no bodies recovered. If I remember correctly, there was also another part of that story about the ghost of the mother wandering the dunes in search of her boys. That was enough to make the hair on my arms stand on end while feeling the chill run up and down my spine. Every tale has a basis of fact, however, and this one is no exception. It seems that a family living near the dunes had sent out two boys, not necessarily their sons, to do some work for them. The boys never returned. The husband set out in search of the boys, but returned with nothing to show…except that he was missing a shoe, according to an eyewitness. He was overheard on a payphone at the general store telling someone that he was going to need two more boys. A crew finally went searching for the missing boys, and found them dead, buried in the dunes. They also found 5 shoes, two for each boy and one mysterious extra. Creepy huh? Wait, it gets better. Many years later, the family returned to the home. The husband was long deceased and the wife on Death’s door, traveling with her children one last time, presumably to die at the summer home. It seems that she died just before or just after they arrived. For the duration of the stay, the family propped her up in her rocking chair on the porch…overlooking the Sugar Bowl.

I digress…. we three, mother, father, & child, hoofed it up to the top of the Sugar Bowl without much difficulty. Even PC & SmallBoy, still recovering from their escapade with the Mama Dune, had recovered enough to climb the Sugar Bowl without too much effort. We walked across the sand, not quite hot under the sun’s rays, and found a nice shady spot to relax. The difference in the sand temperature was like jumping out of the hot tub into the swimming pool, instant relief. We rested for what seemed to be ample time for SmallBoy, tore down the dune like a snowballs down a mountain, and headed back towards the cottage. Once again, we chose to take the beach route, this time from the southernmost part of our community.

The water had warmed enough to consider swimming. The waves had grown in size and strength since the morning, and the guys were anxious to go try them out! As we walked back, SmallBoy and PC discussed their strategies for tackling the waves and, perhaps, building a sand castle. Once again, we headed back to the cottage, filled a cooler with beer, juice, sun block – oh, no, we forgot the sun block, but we had the beer and the juice, grabbed our beach chairs and our towels, left our shoes behind and headed back to the beach.

Check back for Part III coming soon. Let me know what you think so far, perhaps I'll use this whole piece as a chapter of something or other.

Home, part I

Friday, Aug 18, 2006

After what seemed to be an almost unbearable week of no schedule, transitions with going to & coming from Ex’s house, and the culmination of summer, we managed to work all of the conditions just right so that we could get SmallBoy to Michigan for the weekend. Since I had to be home in time to sing at 11:00 mass on Sunday, we had to return Saturday evening.

With the sky still dark, and just the beginnings of daybreak peering through the shadow of the dawn; with the Birdie-Birds starting to chatter and the world beginning to wipe the sleep from their eyes, we woke SmallBoy up at 5:18 Friday morning. He was a little reluctant to awaken until he realized that it was “Michigan Day!” Thankfully, his bag was already packed and all I needed to do was add a few more items for him – toothbrush, sensory tunnel, a couple extra pairs of socks & underwear…the basics. Once he was dressed and ready to roll, he went out to the car and waited patiently until PC and I caught up.

We were in need of something to start our engines, despite our unusual state of awakedness. The local coffee shop, just down the street from our house, opened at 6:00, and so we drove down on our way to the expressway, hoping that someone would be willing to serve us 15minutes early. Fortunately, someone was there and willing to take our money in exchange for coffee and muffins. SmallBoy split a lemon poppyseed muffin with me and, to his surprise, discovered that he LOVES almonds. Aha! Trying something new without knowing it! As we pulled on to the expressway, the sky a slightly lighter shade of gray, we reminded SmallBoy that the question, “are we there yet,” would only be answered affirmatively once we were actually parked in Michigan in front of our cottage. Despite the fact that we were heading out of town on a Friday, just ahead of rush hour – which, on a Friday in Chicago is 24hrs long -, we made it to our destination in remarkable time, reaching the half way point in just under an hour. To help make the trip seem a little shorter, we made it a point to have a countdown to each state line…”In 10, 9, 8….Welcome to Indiana! Welcome to Michigan!”

The morning had finally made its grand entrance, though still gray and rainy on parts of our journey. When we reached Home, we decided to pass our entrance and proceed straight into South Haven and hit the Golden Brown Bakery to see if we would finally have the good fortune to happen upon fresh blueberry coffee cake. We rolled into town amid the morning hustle and bustle – I had forgotten that for the rest of the world, it was still a work day. The bakery, of course,was crowded, mostly with tourists waiting to get their fresh baked delicacies; in Michigan, that’s anything baked with blueberries. I took SmallBoy to the restroom and PC stumbled across the last two blueberry coffee cakes in the store. Obviously made that morning with freshly picked blueberries, the cakes, sprinkled, okay, encrusted with brown sugar was taunting and teasing us all the way back to the cottage.

Just south of South Haven, we turned into our park. What a breath of relief to turn that final corner and see our cottage, bordered with red and white impatiens along the deck, greeting us, welcoming us Home. She is nestled in a valley that is lush with greens and browns, trees, ivy, myrtle, sasafrass, ferns…it’s breathtaking. Our excitement to start out and show SmallBoy as much as we could in the next 36hours overtook our need to dive face first into the coffee cake that had been tempting our tastebuds all the way back in from town. We tossed our bags in our room, did a quick check for my camera, which has been AWOL since the last trip to Michigan, and set out to check the beach.

Within the last couple of weeks one of the nasty storms that rolled through south east Michigan did some damage to one of the decks that leads from the road down to the beach and we were anxious to see if it had been repaired and to see what the beach looked like as a result. As it is with the earth, rain has a massive impact on the appearance of, form, texture of the earth’s surface, so it wasn’t at all surpising to us when we reached the beach, after descending the fortified deck stairs, to see how much of the beach had washed out from under the stairs, how many rocks now made their home snug in the beach sand that once was smooth as a baby’s bottom. Not surprising either, was the size of the beach and how far in the wet sand came before the dry.

We strolled down to the water and tested to see if it was warm enough to swim. PC & SmallBoy walked right in. I started with trepidation and toe dips. After the initial shock of the cold had worked its way through my veins, my body adjusted itself and the water began to feel somewhat soothing. The guys set off ahead of me looking for stones and beach glass. One my favorite pictures, had I a camera to show you, was when PC took the time to stop and show SmallBoy how to skip a stone. He showed SmallBoy the kinds of flat, lighter weight, smooth-ish rocks to look for and then, with the patience of a father, showed him how to hold the rock, how to “wind up for the pitch”, and how to launch the rock. Now for SmallBoy, this is difficult, as skipping a stone involves throwing it with one’s arm at a very odd place, which for an Aspie is something COMPLETELY different. SmallBoy met it with great excitement. He got discouraged when he didn’t do it exactly right on the first try, but he kept trying. With PC’s constant cheering, advice, encouragement, guidance, and love, he managed to actually get a skip or two out of a couple of the rocks. I joined in the fun and, for the first time in my life, managed to skip a couple stones. It was such great fun!

We walked north along the beach, ran in terror from a couple of giant horseflies that must have thought we were invading their turf, skipped stones and danced our feet in the surf. We reached “The Circle”, which serves as homebase for our park, home to the soda bar, and some former hotel cottages. As we came off of The Green, the patio of the sodabar, we caught the quiet morning sun finally getting comfortable in the sky over the meadow, through which runs the Brandywine River, named for the color of the river caused by all of the tannins in the water. We stopped at the bridge to overlook the meadow to our right and the beach to our left, and promised to return later in the day. PC guided us along a path to the north which took us through the woods to a spot along the Brandywine that was rumored to be great for catching Frogs. PC had taken me out their earlier this summer and we found it a very picturesque spot for capturing snapshots of his guitars. The multitude of greens in this forested area, coupled with the brandy color of the river, made it seem like we were in some secret secluded part of a forest only a few were privileged to know. Unfortunately, among those few, were plenty of mosquitoes and they found me very appetizing. As they feasted upon my blood, I followed PC and SmallBoy down the banks of the Brandywine in search of frogs.

We spotted fresh foot and pawprints and it was evident that we were not the first ones to visit this particular place that day. Sadly, the frogs were no where to be found, either in hiding from the previous visitors or off adventuring somewhere else in the park. Instead of being disappointed, though, SmallBoy was enthralled as PC showed him the places where he, as a young boy, used to find frogs.

Eventually, the mosquitoes won the battle for my blood and we decided it was time to head back and slime up with bug spray. The good kind – which to most people is the bad kind….loads of DEET, because I was not ready to sacrifice any more of my blood, nor run the risk of West Nile, though I’m certain those mosquitoes haven’t found our Home yet. PC led us up a steep path just before the park gate that, led us back in to the park much more quickly than going in and walking the road back. The path, of course, was all natural, like the everything else in the park, dirt, leaves, rocks, sticks, tree roots. And it was damp. Piece of cake for PC and SmallBoy. I, on the other hand, had a bit more difficulty with the rock part, as I had gone out barefoot, a new joy I’ve learned to experience. Nonetheless, we made it back to the cottage, refueled on hot dogs, slathered each other in bug spray before heading out for our next adventure.

Stay tuned for the next installment.

Home from HOME

Sorry, no pics for you, my camera is still on the lam...I think it might be in S's bag, but she's in MN right now. We searched the cottage high and low and nada. Oh well. We made sure to take copious notes so that we could help you visualize (while I verbalize - how's about that one KH? heh heh heh). I really really want to tell you all about it now, but I MUST organize my thoughts and I have to be back at church for round two of singing in a couple hours, so I can't write now...but let me leave you with this...we had a great time, SmallBoy did have a major meltdown about no one liking him (EX) which we worked him through, but it broke my heart. Things are gonna change. OH...and on the way home, we found a gas station/truck stop where we bought gas for - get this $2.80/gal!!!!! Ok, I'm off! If you haven't picked up Marley & Me, get it! KH - the line has officially formed, you can have it after PC & EK, Girl wants to read it too, but she's got a LOT of reading to do!

SmallBoy's Turn!

When the kids returned home from Ex's house on Sunday, he told them that he might have a surprise for them this Friday (tomorrow). He NEVER mentioned anything to me, though. We had thought about sneaking off to Michigan one last time before school, as a family, until the kids confirmed with Ex that they, indeed, had a surprise in store for tomorrow (he's taking them to a pre-season Chicago Bears game). Ok, no prob, we'll find another time to go up as a family. Then, the shoe dropped (why was I surprised?) - even though he has 4 season tickets, he's only taking 2 of the kids - gee, can you guess which 2?

And so the plotting began: Get Ex to keep LargeBoy and Girl Friday night, work out a way to get Friday off work, leave at the crack of dawn on Friday - trusting LargeBoy & Girl not to trash the house before they left, bribing them to come home and take care of the pets at regular intervals (they'll only be 4 blocks away), and we will be set! Perfectly, everything fell into place, even getting work off for tomorrow (hell, it's not even noon, and I have today's and tomorrow's work done). When things go THAT well, I worry. Yep. Guess what? It's supposed to rain. According to the weatherchannel.com, though, it's supposed to only be a 30% chance for a "few showers" on Friday, and mostly sunny with scattered storms on Sat. Sunny, of course for Sunday, because we have to leave on Saturday night (I have to sing 2masses on Sunday, so I have to be home).

Never fear, the brilliant PC has plans! He's been in that beautiful Michigan playground for so many years, that he can find lots of things to do if it rains. So we can't really take in some sun and sand at the beach in the rain - who cares! We can fish off the pier, we can go into town - either town, for that matter, we can walk barefoot through the park, we can hang out, we can not be HERE!!!!!!!! (and truly, that's the best part!) Finally, SmallBoy gets his turn alone in the special place that we like to call Home - without his brother and sister, since they each got their own alone time there! He was ecstatic when PC told him!

Hopefully my camera is still there from when PC took Girl and S up last time, and hopefully I can convince my laptop mouse that it wants to work (it's rebelling and the mouse-mouse that I have as an alternate, well, it hates me and won't go left), and I can get some pics posted up for you next week! If I don't talk to you til then, have a wonderful weekend! I will!

Leaving Neverland

...or at least getting one foot out the door. Before I go any further, I will let those of you who are casually dropping by to see if I've fallen off the face of the planet know that I'M BACK and I've got LOTS to write about. Scroll down after you read this one...I've got two below this one!

Last night, SmallBoy was going to bed and I had him wiggle his teeth some more, he's got two fangs that just don't want to come out. He was in good spirits, so I thought, hell, why not see how far I can push the Tooth Fairy envelope. He asked if the Tooth Fairy would bring him extra money if both teeth came out at the same time...ho ho...open door, MG, keep walking! I told him I suppose it would depend on how clean the teeth are (since brushing teeth adequately is an issue for us). So then I took the mound and starting winding up for the pitch, used one of his favorite themes, Pokemon, and said, "SmallBoy, now that you're a big kid, what would you think if the Tooth Fairy evolved into someone else? Who would you want the the Tooth Fairy to evolve into?" He named off a number of Pokemon, giggling the whole time. I said, "Well, what if the Tooth Fairy evolved into one of your most favoritest people in the whole world?" (Light Bulb! Followed by momentary terror brought on by the literal nature of an Aspie), "But Mom, I don't want you to turn into the Tooth Fairy, I want you to be Mom."

After much chatting and convincing him that I wasn't going to change, that I've always been the Tooth Fairy, he was totally impressed (see, he still thinks I'm THE Tooth Fairy for everyone), he said to me, "Mom, if you're the Tooth Fairy, I want my teeth back." Since I'm a pack rat, that was an easy one. I told him absolutely. When I get home from work, I'll get his teeth for him if he finds a safe place to keep them. Finally, the door is open. Now I just have to wait for Christmas to do this again, I suppose, unless he puts 2 and 2 together. We'll see.

It's good to be back! Now keep scrolling and read the other two posts! One's about the band and one's about my fabulous family!