Dreaming of France -- Paris Runaway Cover Reveal

Thank you for joining this weekly meme. Grab a copy of the photo above and link back to An Accidental Blog. Share with the rest of us your passion for France. Did you read a good book set in France? See a movie? Take a photo in France? Have an adventure? Eat a fabulous meal or even just a pastry? Or if you're in France now, go ahead and lord it over the rest of us. We can take it.

Since I love France so much, I find myself setting my novels there. At the end of June, my fourth novel will be available in ebook and in paperback -- on Amazon, but other places as well.
As I inch toward publication date, I'm excited to share the cover for my novel.

This photograph was taken by Virginia Kelser Jones who shares her France photography on her blog Paris Through My Lens. 

Her pictures are so inspiring and I'm fortunate that she agreed to share this beautiful one with me. 

Here's the blurb from the back cover of the book:

When divorced mom Sadie Ford realizes her 17-year-old daughter Scarlett has run away to Paris all she can imagine are terrorist bombings and sex slaves. After learning her daughter chased a French exchange student home, Sadie hops on the next plane in pursuit. She joins forces with the boy’s father, Auguste, and the two attempt to find the missing teens. The chase takes Sadie and Auguste to the seedier side of Marseille, where their own connection is ignited. Since the divorce, Sadie has devoted herself to raising kids and putting her dreams on hold, but when her daughter needs her most, Sadie finds that concrete barrier to life beginning to crack. In her journey, she learns the difference between watching the hours pass and living.

I'm so happy to share the cover for my new novel with all of you. I hope you love the cover as much as I do.

Thanks so much for playing along with Dreaming of France. I really appreciate your participation and I hope you'll leave a comment plus visit each other's blogs.

The End of an Era

Yesterday, my youngest turned 20.
No more teenagers in my house.
It doesn't really seem that different though.
I have two kids living at home. Grace has finished college, is working full time and acts in shows so she has rehearsal most evenings.
Tucker has been on and off at college. He's currently studying videography and living at home. Sometimes I wonder whether he'll end up moving to France with us when we go next May.
I have so few recent pictures of Tucker, that I had to crop a family photo to get one of him.
I started off his birthday by going to the local donut store and buying a box of donuts for when he woke up.
I also got a helium balloon to attach to the box because I'm a sappy mom and I wanted him to feel special. As the youngest, his birthday has sometimes gotten pushed aside, like the time my husband found out on Tucker's birthday that  his job was going through layoffs. It put a damper on the celebration to say the least.
And March is usually busy when the older kids are around with sports activities or college prep things.
He can't really complain though since he had two years home alone with the other kids gone to college. He definitely enjoys being an only child.

Tucker is a bit on the quiet side now, but that is not his usual nature. As you can see from this picture, he has enjoyed the spotlight. 

And even though he tries to be unassuming, he has had his share of fame in swimming and on stage.

My boys chilling on a whitewater rafting trip. I hear they had a lot of fun. 

And here, my youngest trying to warm up in my arms after a swim. Those were pretty perfect times. 

I'm glad to see him growing up and eager to see how his life goes, but I'm grateful for the times I got to cuddle him too. 

Wayward Children

Even as I write this, I can see the humor of my heartbreak; I know that someday I will laugh at the situation. And let me warn you that logic does not work with an angry 19-year-old.
"I don't even believe you're my parents anymore!" my 19-year-old son yelled as he raced down the stairs.
This was the second time he had walked away from the conversation, and the first time he slammed a trash bag against the door frame until it burst.
You might wonder what caused this outburst.
I told him that we wouldn't pay for his apartment while he attended college unless he passed his classes.
I'll just wait a minute while you re-read that last sentence. Let it sink in.
As parents, we were insisting that this boy, who went to college last year with scholarships in hand because of his high test scores, attend class and pass the classes, if he wanted us to pay his rent.
Many teenagers or young adults might be happy if their parents paid for their college. Others might be thrilled if parents paid their rent, but apparently we went too far in agreeing to pay for both if he received good grades.
If you are trying to understand this logically, give up.

Last fall, my youngest son left for a 4-year university. A perfect storm of illness, wisdom teeth infection, a girlfriend at home, and a room full of four guys convinced him that college wasn't for him. He only passed one of four classes he took.
He moved home in January and attended a local community college. Again, only passing one of four classes. In May, before we knew he hadn't passed the classes, we let him move in with a friend. The two of them started a business, which blew up, along with the friendship in July. We never liked the roommate, so were happy to have him move home. He had talked about getting a house with three other guys, one of whom went to high school with him.
This past Saturday, we scheduled my son's classes for the fall. He has decided to take a two-year welding program. That's fine, but we don't really see him sticking with a trade job. He has never been a hands-on kind of guy, the kind who likes to get dirty or even play with Legos.
While scheduling classes, I asked him to pull up his class from this summer, and he hadn't passed it, just by a small amount, but still.
The next day, I asked my son to join me for breakfast. He didn't have time. On Monday, I again suggested we go somewhere to talk. No time.
On Tuesday, I saw him in the kitchen and attempted to bring up a conversation about the possibilities for him this fall. He could return to the 4-year university and live in an apartment with his brother while taking a few classes to explore what he wants to do.
His eyes went blank, as if he'd pulled down shades, like a character from a cartoon.
"Why do you do that?" I asked. "You aren't even listening to anything I say."
"Because you always second guess me," he said.
"When have I done that?" I asked.
"Now," he said.
And that's it. Just this one time that I thought he might not want to be a welder and knowing that he hadn't succeeded in the class he took this summer.
On Thursday, he decided to make peace and let me know that he and his friends had found a 4-bedroom house to rent.
That's when I released the bombshell that we wouldn't pay for an apartment until he passed his classes.
"So I have to live here until December?" he asked.
"Yes," I responded.
He couldn't possibly do that. Living here was impossible! He didn't even want to go to school at all.
The situation didn't improve, and when he stormed out the door to go to work, I was left wondering if he would quit school and simply move out.
It's not what I want. I want to help him succeed at college, and I think I'm doing everything that I can toward that.
He came home last night after I was in bed. No one has talked about what will happen, what his future holds.
Right now, we're all kind of waiting to see what happens.
I'm sure I broke my parents' hearts when I was his age. I was rude and entitled. I traveled to faraway cities to live a couple of times.
To adults, it seems silly that he wouldn't take the offer of college and get a degree to be whatever he wants to be.
Last night, I was talking to a student, probably in his mid 20s, who told me he is having trouble getting to class because he has to take care of his 1-year-old daughter, and the girl's mother wants nothing to do with her. We talked about how difficult it is to go to school while raising a family and working.
He told me his 17-year-old sister thought she didn't want to go to college, and he was trying to convince her to do it now.
"You know," he said, "there's some people who can't learn from watching other people. They have to make those mistakes themselves before they learn."
And that rang true for me.
In the midst of my broken heart, in the midst of standing fast to the rules we've set, in the midst of loving my son in spite of his misguided path as he grows up, I know I have to let him make his own way and hope that I'm around when he's ready to ask for guidance.

Long-Distance Parenting

Today, I had one of those days where I wonder if I had too many children. Not really, but I received two frantic phone calls from my kids.
First was Grace.

She's on a European adventure, and for the most part, she's on her own. She headed to Aix en Provence today to stay with my lovely friend Delana. Grace took the TGV (the very fast train) from Paris to Aix. She wrangled her big black suitcase from the Paris hotel to the train station then hoisted it up the steps. She had three hours or so until the train got into Aix en Provence. Then she would take a bus to the city and Delana would meet her there.
Apparently, Grace fell into a very deep slumber, something like Sleeping Beauty but without the brambles growing up around her.
When she awoke, she wasn't being kissed by a prince, but she realized that the train was pulling out of a station. Thinking she had missed her stop in Aix en Provence, she asked the people around her.
She had, in fact, missed her stop in Aix en Provence and had continued to sleep while the train stopped in Marseille and left there too!
I didn't think the train went any farther than Marseille, which, as you may know, is nestled right into the corner of the Mediterranean Sea. But apparently it kept going, as she realized when she woke up.
The TGV is not one of those trains that stops frequently. I've been on the TGV when it left Paris and didn't stop until Aix, or Avignon at the earliest.
For all I knew, the next stop could be Spain or Italy.
As we talked by cell phone, spending $1 per minute to ponder the possibilities, Delana called to see if she was on the bus.
So we hung up and I tried to take a nap.

This area looks close together, but you can see how close Italy and Spain are too.

Unlike my daughter who falls into a deep sleep easily, I've been up since 2 a.m. I taught class at 8 a.m. and have to teach again at 6 p.m., so I thought a nap was a necessity for me. But I lay in bed wondering what had happened to Grace. I kept incessantly checking Facebook, where I had posted her dilemma. Helpful friends in the U.K. and France were giving me tips or offering suggestions (Thanks, Anne and Corey!) Anne called the rail office to see where the train went. Corey, who lives in Provence, offered to pick her up in Aix or Marseille or Avignon.
Realizing I couldn't possible sleep, I called her back on that expensive cell line to see what had happened.
She had just exited the train at Toulon. The train people gave her a note that allowed her to return to Aix en Provence, where, she should be right about now. Fingers crossed.
As I gave  up napping, I sat with a book on the couch and my phone rang. Spencer is in Athens. Not that Athens, the one in Ohio. He has his first apartment which he moved into a few weeks ago.

He set up the electricity for the apartment before he moved in, and it was all working when we moved his furniture in. Apparently, though, he didn't bother opening the letters from the electric company which told him to pay a deposit.
So last week, just after he got internet set up in his apartment, the lights went off.
The electricity was turned off, which meant, he had no internet, no stove, no hot water, and no way to charge his cell phone, which also serves as his alarm clock.
It's been a bit of a challenge, but when he came home Saturday, I helped him set up his online account and make a payment to the electric company. We hoped he'd get electricity back today.
When he phoned, I figured he would tell me the power was back on.
Instead, he said, "The carbon monoxide detector is going off."
"What? Are you sure it isn't the smoke alarm?" I asked.
"It says carbon monoxide detector right on it," he replied.
Since it is plugged in, I thought maybe the electricity had come back on, but it hadn't.
We told Spencer to go outside and to call the maintenance guy to come right away.
He didn't call or text to update me, but when I texted him, he said it just needed a new battery rather than having actual carbon monoxide in his place.
Earl was home for lunch and we both looked at each other. What would come next?
Tucker just took our cat home with him the other day. Would he call to say the cat was lost?
We're ready for anything, and still wondering if we had too many kids.

Another Chance

Yesterday, I wrote about the challenges I face while raising my sometimes stubborn and emotional 19-year-old, but earlier in the week I had been reminded that the two of us have more opportunities to work out our relationship.
On Thursday, my husband called from the newspaper and asked if I remembered a boy named Chase. I did. He ran track with Tucker, and we had been at some parties with his parents.
The boy died in a car accident the night before.
He was 19, going to college, running his own lawn care business during the summer, and he crashed on a curve in the country near his college campus. Not wearing a seat belt, he was thrown from the car and died on the scene.
As I ran the next morning early, I passed the boy's house, and I wondered if his parents were awake. Then I wondered if they'd slept. How could you possibly sleep if suddenly you son was dead?
I knew that they must have been awakened by the police the night before since the accident was at 1 a.m. The police would have known the boy's identity and notified his parents.
As I continued to run, I remembered the feeling when my own 18-year-old sister had died. That feeling that it must be a mistake, that she would walk through the door again any minute. That feeling continued for weeks afterward -- the anticipation that she'd be home.
And I also remembered waking the morning after with the sun sparkling in through the window and feeling happy, until, like a brick hitting me in the chest, the realization came that my sister had died.
There's a moment, just after waking, when it feels like everything might be okay, until the memory flashes the tragedy and it all comes back.
I didn't know Chase well enough to go to his funeral, but I'll be thinking of his family, and being  a little more gentle with my own kids.
We're so lucky to have them alive and in one piece. If we've had a fight or said hasty words, we have another chance to smooth it over.
No matter what path they've chosen, they're alive and at least we have another chance.

Adventures with Students

This week, I realized that my family eats a lot more pork than I had recognized.
This epiphany came when I offered bacon to the Jewish boy from California then had pulled pork in the crock pot when the two Muslim boys from Dubai showed up. But I wasn't expecting the guys from Dubai, until they missed their flight home.
Their story is a comedy of errors.
Medhi is a friend of Spencer's who goes to OU. He came home with Spencer for Thanksgiving and missed the bus back to OU because he was standing inside the bus station when the driver walked out to the bus, climbed in and drove away. Medhi ran after the bus waving, like a bad sit com scene. Then he called us to come pick him up, and he spent another night with us.
So on Friday morning, I drove Spencer's friend from California to the airport. He was early, but it fit our schedule.
I set off on another round-trip drive to Ohio University to pick up Tucker and all of his belongings, since he has decided not to return.
Once I got home and we had unpacked the car, I got ready to go teach my evening class at a local university. That's when Spencer's phone rang.
"What?" I heard him say. He repeated it a few more times then said, "I'll be there to get you."
"I have to take the car to work," I called out to Spencer.
"Catch a taxi here," Spencer said. "I'll text you my address."
So Spence explained to me that Medhi and Al, another student from Dubai, had missed their flight. They missed their flight because they  missed the GoBus from Athens.
The story came out a little backward, but this is how I've pieced it together.
Medhi and Al were at Ohio University, ready to take the GoBus which drives from Athens straight to the airport.

The bus picks up at the student center, which is a 4-story building built into the side of a hill. Students often cut through the building rather than walking up the hill. They can ride the escalators inside.
Medhi and Al were at the top of the hill behind the building when they realized that the bus would pick them up at the bottom. Rather than hopping on the escalators, they asked someone to drive them to the front of the building. The roads are rather circuitous to get around to the front of the building and by the time they arrived, the bus had gone.
The two of them paid a taxi driver $200 to take them to the airport in Columbus, about 90 miles away.
Their flight was at 3:30 p.m. They made it to the airport, through security and to the gate by 3:20, but were told the plane had already boarded. They could see the plane through the window, but the airline personnel refused to open the door again.
That's when they sought refuge in our basement for the night.
We were glad to give them a place to stay, but that morning, long before I took the first guy to the airport or drove to pick up Tucker, I had placed a pork roast in the crock pot, covered it with barbecue sauce and planned to serve pulled pork for dinner.
That's why the guys from Dubai might have been a little hungry that night. I didn't know though, because I was gone to work when they arrived.
Late that night, as I lay in bed, I heard them talking.
"We will stay right by the gate! We will not go anywhere," Medhi said.
I knew he was determined to make that first flight from Columbus to Detroit. Then they would board a plane from Detroit to Amsterdam. Then Amsterdam to Dubai.
"We have a very long lay over in Amsterdam," Medhi said the next morning at the dining room table.
"Oh, maybe you could go see the city..." I started. Then I stopped myself, "No. Don't leave the airport. Just stay there and wait for your flight!"
They weren't interested in breakfast, but I gave them some strong coffee spiced for winter in little blue and white espresso cups,
before my husband drove them off to the airport. They were not scheduled to reach home until Sunday evening, but I'm sure their families will be thrilled to see them.

Empty-Nest November

I have officially declared the month Empty-Nest November.
I do this because people always ask me, "What's it like being an empty-nester?"
And my response is, "I have no idea! My children are home all the time."
When all three kids left for college at the end of August, we anticipated missing them. But it was a rough start with Tucker being sick. He was home most every weekend and some days before and after the weekend to visit the doctor or the dentist. Finally, around the end of September, he was healthy, but the weekends home were well established. Add to that, the fact that his girlfriend lives here in town, and we still see him every other weekend.

Tucker obviously having a horrible
time at the campus Halloween party.

The university luckily has a bus that he can take home, so we haven't been able to ban him from returning. What it means, is like a baby and toddler who doesn't bond with his parents, he hasn't really been able to bond with his college. He's drawn back to Columbus, a town that is easy to love.
So the last day of October, first weekend in November, Tucker sat down with me and Earl to explain why he didn't want to go back to his college in January. Instead, he wants to stay in Columbus. He'll attend the local community college and transfer to Ohio State.
Earl and I were really opposed to this. Then the fight began about whether he'd have to live at home or could get an apartment. We stuck to our guns, saying he wasn't old enough or responsible enough to get an apartment. He could live at home while going to school and then move into the dorms at Ohio State in the fall.
So, if he follows through with this, come the middle of December, he'll be home until August. Earl and I have a whole list of conditions for Tucker, and one of those includes that he must stay on campus the entire month of November until Thanksgiving. He also has to join two clubs and sign up for classes in January, just in case he changes mind. (Fingers crossed!). We told him he'd have to work while living at home and that he needed to be "more pleasant" to Earl and me.
If I was a teenager, I'd definitely go back to living in the dorms in January and plan to transfer the following year, but we'll see what he decides.

Grace at a recent audition, slowly
recovering from her illness. 

Also cutting down on our empty-nest days this fall is the fact that Grace has been ill for weeks. After two weeks of believing she had the flu, the health center finally declared she had mono or strep. Since the treatment for strep and mono are very different, Earl picked Grace up and took her to our doctor where they did actual tests and decided Grace had mono.
She hasn't been that sick since she was a baby. Her fever continued for days. She was miserable and too weak to make her own coffee in the mornings. So she was home for a week and every weekend trying to recover, through this past Monday.
Thus, my call for Empty-Nest November.
Whether Tucker transfers colleges or not, our empty-nest days are still coming to an end. Grace will graduate from college in December. With her degree in Theater, she may face a long audition period before she gets a job in her field. We decided that it didn't make sense to continue to pay rent on her apartment by her college, so she'll be moving home until she has a full-time job.
If we knew that she was staying in Columbus, we'd definitely  help her get settled in an apartment here, but she may end up anywhere. She's going to audition for cruise ships in December, so she could be out of the house in January.
Earl and I are prepared for a longer period of grown-children invasion. But as we look back at our brief empty-nest period, we feel like we hardly got to enjoy it. So we're really splurging in November.
We ordered pizza with mushrooms on it the other night, something the kids would never eat. I'm rarely cooking these days, and when I do, only cooking things that I really want!
Earl and I realize that someday we'll wish our kids would come home more often, but until then, how can we miss them if they won't go away?
We'll delight in Empty-Nest November and look forward to some family time through the holidays.

Saturday Snapshot and A More Somber Subject

Today, I would like nothing more than to merely post a photo of the leaves turning brilliant colors. I was afraid the  leaves were simply going to fall off without changing, but I was wrong.
Here are a couple of trees near my house. The leaves have turned an orangish red that looks almost pink in some lights.

But my thoughts are on a more somber subject.
This week, I found out one of my college students died. "Passed away" was the wording they used in the email I received.
Elisha (pronounced like the Biblical prophet) was in my class this summer and again this fall. (Two different classes.) He was tall and slim. He loved football and planned to try out for a spot as a running back in the National Football League, even though he didn't make the team in college.
He came to my class after two years at another college. I was surprised that his writing was full of run-on sentences. We sat together that second class and read through his writing. I taught him that he paused naturally where the sentences needed punctuation. We kept working on it throughout the semester.
He finished class early, completing all of the work for the course before the end. And he moved on to the next class in September, which I also taught.
A few weeks ago, I asked him what was going on. "You aren't getting all the work done ahead of time like last semester."
He shook his head and promised to do better.
I didn't know what was going on with Elisha. I didn't understand then that this 20-year-old guy had started hanging out with a new crowd.
I didn't know that until I saw the newspaper story.
The story began by saying Elisha's parents filed a missing person's report when he didn't come home Saturday morning. He always came home. It was not in his nature to stay out all night.
I have a son the same age as Elisha, and he had stayed out all night the weekend before when he came home from college. I texted and called him until he finally responded that he had spent the night at his friend's house.
So immediately, I felt a kinship with Elisha's parents. Here we are trying to raise our sons past this tricky phase of life when they think they're independent but they're still making some very questionable choices.
My son has gotten himself into some trouble, but his choices haden't ended him where Elisha's choices did.
Elisha was with three other guys when two of them went into a store and robbed it. A SWAT team was waiting for them, and two of the guys were killed. Elisha was one of those.
I don't know if Elisha was a robber or if he was in the car. I don't know if he had a gun.
I do know, from the news story, that he had never been in trouble before, only traffic tickets.
Yes, he did make an awful choice, and that choice ended his life.
I just wonder how many times boys make decisions that bring them to the brink of death, that allow them to slip past narrowly.
I want to reassure Elisha's parents, that I believe he was a good kid who made some bad decisions at the end. But when I picture going to the funeral, I'm afraid they might have an open casket, and I keep picturing the slim shoulders of this boy sitting in my classroom.
And then it's only a tiny step to imagine that my own boys are squeaking past bad choices. No, they aren't tempted to rob stores or commit other crimes, but they all make stupid decisions.
I don't want to dismiss what Elisha and his friends did.
I just think 20 year olds don't think very far ahead; they don't see the consequences.

Saturday Snapshot -- Book Cover

I'm sharing a snapshot that friend took, which almost became a book cover for my new novel Trail Mix.
The book is about two friends who decide to hike the Appalachian Trail as the ultimate diet plan as their lives are in flux -- kids going off to college, jobs and relationships changing. They aren't sure who they are anymore.

I love the hazy blue mountains in this picture and the way my friend Noreen looks so awed by the mountains. She's also very authentic with her bed pad and her walking pole.

But in the end, I went for a more polished picture for the cover.

What do you think? It's available now for pre-order on Amazon for Kindle. Hopefully the paperback will be up there soon too. 

Here's the blurb:

How does a woman know what she wants after spending 20 years thinking about her husband and children? Sometimes it takes an escape from everyday life, time to examine the forest before the trees become clear. With no previous camping experience, Andi and Jess begin the 2100-mile odyssey from Georgia to Maine. The friends figure life on the trail can't possibly be worse than dealing with disgruntled husbands, sullen teens home from college, and a general malaise that has crept up in their daily lives. At the very least, the women are bound to return home thin.

Looking forward to seeing all your Saturday Snapshots too.

The College Race

I'm ignoring my blog this week as I rush to get my boys ready for college. Yesterday morning, I was just shaking my head. The boys might be feeling a little angst, but that is not translating into getting prepared. I made a list for them and told them to go to the store. They couldn't find the car keys. Tucker remembered having them the night before at a celebration. He immediately got on his phone and started texting to see if anyone had seen the keys. I told the boys to take the other car to the store. They left then a minute later reappeared. They had forgotten the list and the gift card they were supposed to use at the store.

New shoes are a necessity.

This kind of thing went on all day with just flustered activity here and there. We had a steak dinner and I planned it for 6 because Earl was supposed to be at a meeting at 7. But, he didn't get home from work in time to join us. We figured no big deal since Spencer is only going to be an hour and a half awainstead of a thousand miles away. I take Spencer down to college today so he can go through orientation. Then Tucker moves in tomorrow. The hectic will be replaced by an eerie quiet, I suspect. Hope you all are having peaceful weeks.

Restful Sleep

First, shameless self promotion: my novel The Summer of France is only 99 cents on Kindle today, both in the U.S. and the U.K.
Here's a review that was posted yesterday on Amazon by someone who calls herself  "crazy for reading"

Loved this story! I stayed up till after midnight each night reading it after my family went to bed. So many twists and turns I didn't want to quit.

If you haven't read it, hope you'll give it a try.

Today, my family will gather again, five adults in our small house, for another week before my sons head off to college next week. (Grace is in and out since she has an apartment about 20 minutes away.)
But on the first night that I spent home alone since...forever maybe, I went to bed and did not wake  up for seven hours, until the cat jumped on me at 6 a.m.
Some people think that sleep is only disrupted while kids are babies, but I can tell you that teenagers disrupt sleep even more.

Here's Tucker in his portable hammock. He looks kind of bored.

In my house, someone is pretty much always awake and rambling around the house. They come in at different hours. They're searching for food at 3 in the morning. The television in the living room may be too loud. The floors squeak, the toilet flushes.
I cannot remember the last time that I went to sleep and was oblivious to everything until the next morning.
It was beautiful.
Of course, part of that restful sleep might have to do with the fact that I knew the boys were with their father camping, rather than on a college campus, where they might or might not find trouble. So I may not sleep so peacefully once they've moved to college.
I'd better enjoy them while I can!

Rounding Up All My Children

Finally, I'm very close to having all three of my children together.
I'm in Florida with my two oldest, Grace and Spencer. Grace finished with college for the year on Tuesday, moved her things home, and we left the next morning to drive to Florida.

It was a very long drive, or maybe it just felt that way because I am getting old. I usually drive the whole way myself but on the last stretch of the trip, I let Grace take over.
Part of what made the trip long, was that we stopped at a park in Charlotte, North Carolina. Our route goes by Charlotte and I had heard about a pretty park there from Jackie McGuiness at Junkboat Travels.
Driving into Charlotte, Grace and I were both struck by how much it felt like our hometown Columbus, Ohio. It's a small, bustling downtown area, which, we noticed, is called "uptown" not downtown.
Charlotte is one of the cities that Grace is considering after she graduates from college. She put it on the top of her list after our stop at The Green.

The Green is a bookish park with author's names as mile markers and stacks of books as statues. We loved it.

 

We got to my parents' house on Wednesday night.

On Thursday, I drove over to St. Petersburg to pick up Spencer from college. I hadn't seen him since Jan. 3 when I dropped him off at school. I've talked to him on the phone and texted plenty, but there's nothing like hugging your kid. 

We loaded up all of his belongings, filling a trash bag full of his big basketball shoes and tying his bicycle onto the top of the car since I forgot the bike carrier. 

It's been a tough year for Spencer in many ways, but he's healthy and he persevered. And I still owe you all the "mafia" story. I promise I'll tell it someday soon.

Now Grace, Spencer and I are at my parents house for a few more days until we drive back to Ohio.

Meanwhile at home, Tucker finished his last day of high school.

Every year at our school, the parents and underclassmen line up for the seniors to walk between us on the last day. They go to the football field across the street and after a few speeches from the students, they release balloons (biodegradable) into the air.

I have missed this ceremony for both of my boys, but Earl has gone both times and took pictures. My friend Betsy also took some pictures of Tucker for me.

Tucker had an AP (Advanced Placement) test on Wednesday afternoon, so he didn't think he'd get to walk with the seniors. He really wanted to be a part of it though. He asked whether he could skip the exam.

The exam can be important because students can earn college credit. They take an advanced class all year and the official AP Exam is what earns them college credit. It doesn't affect their actual classroom grade. 

To me, the college credit seemed more important than a few minutes on the football field, but maybe I wasn't thinking enough about the emotion of it all. 

He ended up taking the test and still getting out in time to walk with his friends.

Here's a picture Betsy sent me that I love. I can picture him hurrying out of the test to join his classmates, afraid he'd be late, but no, there they were. He's smiling to himself with an array of friends behind him.

In a few more days, we'll all be home together preparing for a weekend of graduation and celebration. 

Grace moves out in June, but until then, I'll have all my children together for a little while longer. 

Cinderella Misses the Ball

I consider myself fairly tough emotionally. I have thick armor. Most of it was built up out of necessity.
My parents divorced when I was three, so I was raised in a single-parent home long before it became the norm. They reunited when I was 10.
My sister died when I was 14.
I had so many stupid love relationships because I felt desperate to find a man and be part of a couple.
Over the years, that stuff builds up.
So I'm surprised how deeply one of my children can still wound me. Even as I write this, I'm tearing up. And I'm not a cry-er.
I have three kids, ages 22, 20 and 18. They do things to stress me out all the time, but generally, it's not aimed at stressing me.
Sunday, my youngest, a senior in high school, sent an arrow flying that pierced my heart and leaves me somewhere between silently resentful and passive aggressive toward him.
Four years ago, another mother and I planned that when our sons were seniors, we would go to the mother/son, father/daughter dance together. The dance is held during the kids' senior year, and here it's called Spring Fling. We get dressed up. We have a nice dinner. We dance with our kids who will soon be flying the nest.
We don't do this any other time during their growing up years. This is it.
I asked Tucker about it nearly a month ago. He told me that was the weekend of the Frisbee tournament, so we might be late.
I was okay with that and I paid the $40 for our tickets.

Here's a photo from the dance last night.  Not me and Tucker.

Sunday morning, I braved the high winds to sit through two of the three Frisbee games. Then I hurried home to go to a graduation party for another friend's son. Next I went to ballroom dance class with my husband.
I donned a party dress and waited for Tucker to get home. His last Frisbee game ended at 3 p.m.
He walked in the door around 4:30 with a burrito from Chipotle.
"We just have about an hour before Spring Fling," I told him.
"I told you I didn't want to go to that. I'm too tired," he said.
"All the other seniors who played Frisbee are going," I said.
He named two boys who weren't going. "I never told you that I would go. I told you we had tournament this weekend."
"You told me we might be late because of the tournament," I pointed out.
He ignored me.
"You had three games yesterday and you went out until midnight last night," I argued.
It didn't matter. He walked down the stairs to the basement.

Spencer and I went to spring fling when
he was a senior

I texted the mother we were meeting and the mother we were supposed to ride with.
My texts were juvenile, full of anger at my son who I called "a jerk" and "immature." Of course, both of those things were true.
After about half an hour, I changed out of my party dress. I tried to read on the front porch then I hunkered down in front of the television.
I imagined punishments that I could give him. I'd take away his cell phone. I wouldn't let him drive a car.
I wondered if he could go to college early so I didn't have to deal with him this summer.
Truthfully, I'm just hurt.
This is the only time we will ever have this one-on-one date. Sure, he might dance with me at his wedding, but it's definitely not going to be all about me and him.
I assuage my hurt feelings, remembering that I got to go to the dance with Spencer two years ago when he was a senior in high school.
This morning, I'm still feeling sad. I tried dancing to "Happy," but it didn't chase away my blues.
I talked to an ESL teacher who told me I should teach English in China this summer and, like a character in one of my novels, I spent an hour searching sites, wondering if that would be the best way to escape my children home for the summer.
I realize I should simply say to Tucker that he truly hurt my feelings. There's no way for him to make it up to me now, but I shouldn't hide my feelings, as I have for years while the kids were little. He needs to know that his actions have consequences.
He may not regret his actions now, or this year, or even next year, but he's enough like me that I know in 10 years, he'll probably beat himself up that he didn't go with mom to Spring Fling. He's just too young to know it yet.

Kid Whirlwind and College

My life has been crazy so I haven't been blogging regularly.
People say, "Oh, too many classes to teach?" But really, most of the craziness comes from my kids.
We knew when Tucker was born (our 3rd) that we had surpassed our limits as parents, but it was too late to go back; we could only go forward. And, we love all of our kids passionately (which might be part of the problem), but their worries and woes frequently weigh on us and take a lot of time.

Famous columns from a building that burned down
years ago on the campus of Mizzou

Problems are working out and in the next few days, I hope to spill the whole story about an incident that made me feel like I was living out an episode of The Sopranos.
For today, I'm enjoying the knowledge that I don't have to go to work today because it is finals week for one of the colleges where I teach.
I also relished a 6-mile run that ended at Starbucks.

This is the indoor water park and giant hot tub at Mizzou

Mostly though,  my happiness comes from the fact that I'm very relieved my youngest son has chosen a college that is within a two-hour drive. He was leaning toward a college eight hours away and I had to beg him to reconsider.
When Spencer's phone broke, it took a tremendous amount of effort and calling in favors from old friends in the area to get him a new phone while he lived 16 hours away and had no way to communicate or get to the store.
When Grace was sick at school 10 hours away, she had to walk herself to the hospital for blood tests and walk herself to the pharmacy for medicine.
Yes, it helps them learn responsibility, but it leaves me a nervous wreck.
Tucker knew these stories and stuck to his plan to attend Mizzou -- the University of Missouri.
When we visited, I didn't even think he like it that much. He was anxious to get back on the road home.
And we have no contacts in Missouri -- no old friends to call on, no family to fall back on.
Finally on Tuesday, I told him the story about leaving his sister and brother at college.
It wasn't as bad with Grace because the college, 10 hours from home, had a plan. They had a convocation, complete with bagpipes and lit candles. Then each dorm broke up into groups to begin activities. Parents were expected to give hugs and move on to the parking lot.
I'll never forget Grace's eyes bright with tears as she stood in a circle of her dorm mates then turned around and gave us a pleading look. We walked out, but that was easier than when we left Spencer.
We moved Spencer into his college dorm room over 1000 miles from home. The school had a convocation
ceremony and then a picnic. We ate. We talked with families around us and then we needed to move on to my parents' house about 90 minutes away. Spencer walked us to our car and we left him there in the parking lot -- alone.
I just couldn't do that with Tucker.
"I know you'll make friends," I told Tucker, "but it's so hard on my to leave you there alone."
Tucker didn't respond to my story so I dropped it.
I had told him he needed to figure out what steps to take next for going to Mizzou. I had to support him.
Two days later, he said he guessed he could go to a college in Ohio. He would room with his best friend Josh and the two of them would have two unknown roommates so they didn't get stuck in a rut with only kids from our hometown.
"You can go to Mizzou," I said. "I don't want  you to choose just for me."
But he had talked it over and they made plans and the relief I felt washed over me. He can catch a bus home for $10. I can be there in two hours if he is hurt or sick. I can drive down a new phone. Or I can go down for lunch if he, or I, feel lonely.
So today is full of paperwork, making sure he accepts the school's offer. I also have to grade papers and get final grades in. Look into changing our insurance company. Deal with some payments to Spencer's schools.
In spite of the busy work, underneath it all, I'm so happy that Tucker won't be going far away.

Selfish

Since the beginning of the year, I've been blogging like a whirlwind, but these past few weeks, I've had my writing soul sucked out as I deal with children complications.
And I really don't want to write about them. I'm tired of thinking about them.
I'd like to just be selfish for a little while.
I have one more class to teach on Friday night and then I'm going to take some me time this weekend.
Do you ever take time for you?
What kinds of ways do you spoil yourself?

Communicating with Young Adult Children

I thought the hardest time communicating with my kids would be when they were little. Maybe they didn't know all the words yet. Maybe they could understand but not speak.
Communication has been hindered even as they grow up.
This morning, Grace texted me asking if we could talk today -- "face to face."
And luckily, we could. I teach in the evenings on Thursday, so I put aside my plans for the day. My writing, my grading, and drove the half hour to her college, picking her up between classes.
She climbed in the car and gave me a big hug.
We drove to Starbucks and I pulled out a legal tablet. I made three columns and put a heading for each one -- her choices for the summer -- an internship in Scotland that would be behind the scenes theater work; a full-time job at the college as front of the house manager of the theater; or a couple of part-time jobs that would allow her to act in a few musicals this summer.
She filled out her list of pros and cons for each possibility. In the end, it didn't matter which column had more pros and fewer cons; it came down to her heart.
Sensibly, she should take the theater job with a chance to make a lot of money and have a solid management credential on her resume. But her heart is in acting. She couldn't bear to give it up.
"Look, you have one more semester at school. There's no reason you have to make a lot of money this summer. That might not be true next summer. Next summer you'll have to be more responsible. Go with what you love." I told her.

I get to see these two more often and communicate in
person with them. But talking with an 18-year-old boy
is never easy. 

Hopefully, she'll make enough to cover her living expenses this summer and her books in the fall. Come December, she'll graduate and be in the real world. This summer she can act. She's starting with The Graduate in April, then has pretty solid promises of roles in Into The Woods and Legally Blonde. It's probably not the most responsible choice, but for most of our lives we have to make the responsible choice rather than doing what we love.
I'm so thankful that Grace is close enough that when she texted and asked me to meet her, I could. That hasn't always been the case since she started at a college 10 hours away.
The distance is one thing I'm negotiating with my youngest as he decides where to go to college. He liked Mizzou (University of Missouri) which is more than an 8-hour drive from home. But he has other choices 1 1/2 hours away and 3 hours away. I have to try to convince him that being within a short driving distance has its advantages. At 18, the far away colleges seem  to be full of promise and intrigue.
On our drive home from the college visit the other night, in the dark as we both stared straight ahead at the highway, I tapped Tucker on the leg and asked him to take off his headphones. Headphones are like armor to teenage boys -- they keep everyone away.
We started talking in the dark, battling at first until finally the walls came down and we told each other how we honestly felt about the colleges, about these last few days of high school. It felt like a reprieve and I could breathe a sigh of relief for a little while.
Which brings me to my other son, age 20, and attending college in Florida. That's a 16-hour drive away. Only a couple of hours on a plane, but the cost adds up for that. He's on spring break in Miami and called yesterday to say that he dropped his cell phone in the hot tub. It's not working now.

This is the hot tub Spencer dropped
his phone into. 

This is not a new phenomenon for my children. Grace dropped her phone in the Mediterranean Sea when she visited Europe.
Luckily, we have an upgrade available, so I can send him a new phone. He was due for one this summer anyway. Without a cell phone, I truly have no way to reach him. I'm hoping for no emergencies until I can get him another phone.
For now, he's perusing the phone choices on our cell phone carrier. I'm already dreading the time when he gets the phone and I have to walk him through activating it. He's my least technically inclined. He'd much rather clear trails in a forest than navigate a computer or cell phone.
So communicating with kids doesn't get that much easier as they grow up, and we try to figure out new ways to keep in touch.
I'm not complaining though. At least we're all still trying to relate to each other.

Spring Breaks

I am on the cusp of spring breaks for my kids. Grace's spring break is wrapping up while Spencer and Tucker are both beginning their spring breaks.
Grace's spring break has been fairly laid back. She went to a local Irish bar to celebrate St. Patrick's Day.
She tried out for a spring production, The Graduate, and got the part of Elaine -- that's Mrs. Robinson's daughter for anyone who doesn't remember. And Benjamin falls in love with Elaine after having the affair with Mrs. Robinson. I think she'll do a great job.
We ate lots of yummy meals, like breakfasts of chocolate croissants or croissants, and goat cheese pasta, and we cracked open a bottle of dessert wine to go with some chocolate lava cakes. Yum.
We also did some babysitting for Grant, Earl's niece's son.

Look at the belly on that little guy! He's 14 months old and almost always in a good mood.
I love spending time with Grace and hate to see her going back to school, but I know that's what happens with kids grow up.
Spencer goes to college in Florida, so I could hardly hope for him to come back to cold Ohio. Instead, he went to Miami. He is staying at a friend's parents' condo on Miami Beach.
I texted him yesterday asking, "How is Miami?"
Here's the picture he responded with:

I haven't seen Spencer since January. I miss see him.

This morning, Tucker and I are leaving on a road trip. One more college visit before he has to decide.

Maybe -- but doubtful -- I'll get a picture of me and Tucker on our road trip. That boy avoids the camera. I tell him he'll regret it someday.

So we're driving 9 hours to Missouri. Hope he likes the campus. I'd love for him to fall in love with a college and be passionate about going there.

Here's a photo from his birthday.

Hope you all get a chance to relax and enjoy some decent weather this spring. At our destination, they're predicting snow.

Tucker turns 18

My youngest child, Tucker, turns 18 today. 

Even though he is a third child, he has always loved me most ferociously. When I took him to have his  1-year-old portrait, he refused to pose alone. Instead, he his behind me and peaked out from behind. That became the portrait that we chose. 

Throughout his childhood, he has been a Mama's boy. He always wanted me. And I was fine with that.

Here we are by the pool in St. Petersburg. 

 And this one was a group photo, but Tucker needed to hang on to his mom. I was so used to those little hands around my neck. 

Of course, in the past few years, his adoration of me has faded. He's fighting hard to be an independent adult. That means, sometimes, he isn't so fond of me. He definitely pushes me away. 

There are ongoing skirmishes behind the scenes here, and sometimes he breaks my heart, but I know we're both going to get through it. Someday soon, maybe he'll do more than give me the top of his dark hair to kiss when he comes through the door by his midnight curfew. 

For today, the most I can do is hope he has a happy birthday. The future will take care of itself. 

Swimming in the Big Arena

Can you all stand another post about high school swimming? At least you can know that the topic will soon be put to rest.
But, after the competition at States on Thursday, the boys relay made it into the finals on Friday night. Tucker was number 17 in the 50 free, so that means he is an alternate in the finals.
Just saying this makes it seem like the swim meet was fairly calm.
It wasn't.
Tucker swam the 50 free as his first event. His time wasn't as good as it was last week, before he got the flu.
Within a few minutes, I had a text message from the swim coach. Tucker wanted to "declare a false start" rather than swim the 100 free.
Earl immediately felt he needed to swim it. That seemed to be what most of the dads around us said. He had made it into States in the 100 free,  he shouldn't miss the opportunity.
But the flu has a big impact on the lungs, and after swimming the 50 free in 22 seconds, Tucker felt his limitations. He told the coach that he wanted to save his energy for the relay, which had a good chance to make it to the finals.
So the coach was able to pull Tucker out of the 100 free, and when that event swam a few minutes later, an empty lane at the end of the pool showed where Tucker should have been.
When the 200 relay swam, they placed 15th which put them in the finals Friday night.
I recorded the race on my sister-in-law's iPad. My favorite part is before the race starts when Tucker puts his hand on a teammates shoulder and gives him some words of wisdom.
Here they are cheering on their final teammate Josh as he swims.

We knew Tucker had one more event to swim -- the 400 free relay, in which each boy swims a 100. I thought that Tucker might let the extra boy on the team swim his leg of the race, but when that boy came up to the stands, I realized Tucker was going to swim it. 

The boys finished 22nd in the 400 relay, so they won't move on to the finals. One of the teammates, Tucker's best friend Josh, was disgusted with the way he swam and walked away at the end of the race, but I got a picture of the remaining three swimmers.

We thought we were finished for the day, but Tucker had tied with another swimmer in the 50 free. He had to have a swim off. I thought he might just concede so he didn't have to swim again. But he decided to get competitive. Sucked up his energy and swam against another boy who had the exact same time.

Tucker won. I think that puts him in 17th place. So he won't swim the 50 free in finals unless someone else doesn't swim.

So for today, back to Canton, Ohio. That's about a two-and-a-half-hour drive. Earl can't go today, so unless I can convince Grace to come along, I'll be on my own or catch a ride with other parents. 

Senior Photos

On a crisp Autumn afternoon, my youngest went to have his senior pictures taken. He went under protest. He didn't understand why senior pictures had to be a big deal. He just needed one picture.
And, he needed some clean khaki shorts to wear, he warned as he headed back to school after lunch. Luckily, my husband had a load of laundry in the dryer, including a pair of khaki shorts.
I'd taken Tucker to the store a few weeks before and encouraged him to buy a new shirt for senior pictures.
"I'll just wear a shirt I have," he said and refused to pick out anything new.
So after school, with our 4 o'clock  appointment creeping closer, I asked what he planned to wear.
A blue polo shirt, he said. A polo shirt is as close as Tucker gets to considering himself dressed up. And a blue polo shirt is fine, but it isn't what he would normally wear. And I like a senior picture in clothes that the kids would usually wear.
"Maybe we'll just take along another shirt to change in to," I suggested.
"What? I'm not changing shirts. Where would I change?"
"You are a guy. You can take your shirt off and put on another one," I explained to my son who is a swimmer and spends half his life in a tiny Speedo swimsuit.
Then he put on his blue polo and I pointed out it was wrinkled.
"I'll iron it," I said.
"It doesn't need to be ironed. We need to go."
I held out my hand for the blue shirt and took along a red shirt that has some dark striations through it. I thought it might look good in contrast to his dark hair and beard.
And, yes, apparently the beard would stay for the picture.
Sullen, would be the way I'd describe him, as we scrambled to get out the door to meet the photographer.
But as soon as she met us, he became quite pleasant.

I took pictures of her taking pictures of him.

In both the red shirt and the blue shirt.

In various places around the park.

She thought the reddish grasses would go well with his red shirt. He warned me before we went that he was only doing close-lipped smiles. I told him we spent thousands of dollars on his teeth so he should be willing to show them.

I tried to convince him that he should have different smiles and we'd pick the one that looked best.

Spencer regrets that he "looks a little mean" in his pictures because he didn't smile, I told Tucker. 

"He is mean," Tucker said, still getting over his role of little brother apparently 

And when he got there, Tucker did smile. I guess he just likes to argue about it with me.

The photographer showed us a couple of shots that she got and I think we'll have plenty to choose from. Yes, they're all better than my phone shots in the background.

I noticed in the middle of the photography shoot that Tucker was wearing a bracelet. I don't know if it was a conscious decision to leave it on or if he just forgot it. I thought maybe he'd wear the watch he bought in Paris last year, but apparently that $100 expenditure has fallen out of popularity. 

The bracelet is one of those rubber ones, the kind Lance Armstrong made popular. This one is in support of a high school teacher and basketball coach who was just diagnosed with colon cancer before school started. So maybe it's okay that the bracelet is in his senior picture.