What I learned during Summer vacation

I don't know what it is about August, but it has always been hell month for me. It's not just the unending heat or the way my skin bristles every time the too bright sun touches it; life tends to triple its speed in August until I'm utterly worn out. By the time August ends, I am longing to hide in a cool bath in a dark room far, far away from telephones and to-do lists.

This August was no exception. Queen Teen had two trips to Stanford, plus a muscle biopsy (more on that later). Her recovery was good, but slow, and I got to battle with three different agencies for a shower bench (more on that to come later as well). I was frantically trying to finish the new website for Medusa's Muse before I went back to work (didn't make it). And then school started; I went back to teaching and she started the 11th grade. Rick and I juggled my return to work and QT's reduced school schedule (half days for now) with our usual strategy: take it day by day and stress out the entire time. Thankfully a good friend has helped out while I continued to look for regular child care

Now it is September and we are all starting to settle in to our new schedule. I harvested the basil this weekend and am making several pounds of pesto to enjoy this winter, and this year we enjoyed our first delicious crop of table grapes from our 8 year old vines. The summer was stressful because of the changes in Queen Teen's health. But it was also oddly peaceful. When I look back on the last few months, I see just how lovely our summer was (except for that dreaded August). And I learned some very important things.

What I learned during Summer vacation.

• Tomatoes need consistent watering or their skins will crack and the fruit become misshapen. 
• All those late nights and extra hours I spent teaching are totally worth it if I can have summer off. 
• It is important to spend time doing nothing. If you fill your days with tasks and to-do's and constant business, you never have time to truly enjoy being alive. Sit in your yard every day with your shoes off and watch your garden grow while listening to the humming birds fight over the flowers. 
• Doing the above is even nicer with a glass of good wine.
• Creating a peaceful space in your home, a place where no work is allowed, is very important for mental health. This space is even more helpful if you create it in your bedroom.
• Reading a book on a Kindle is fun. 
• Going to the mall with a typically developing teenage girl is fascinating, especially when you turn that girl lose in Abercrombie and Fitch.
• Having Queen Teen's best friend with her when Queen Teen had to get her biopsy made everything much better. We should always bring a friend (and not just one of my friends). 
• In-laws who will paint your bedroom and clean your kitchen are the greatest gift there is.
• Running feels good.
• A slower pace to match Queen Teen's lower energy is kind of a gift. Stress was reduced because she wasn't begging to do things all the time, and when we did go out, she seemed to enjoy it more.
• Sharing time with a person who is ill teaches you not to take things for granted. I know we've all heard that before, but when you're caring for your child who is struggling so much just to walk or eat, you realize how wonderful each moment of your life is. This child is precious and beautiful, and her time on this Earth is limited. We don't know how long, but I know I will out live her. So enjoy the days, the accomplishments, the set backs, the laughs. Enjoy and savor each breath. We all have limited time; don't waste your one beautiful life.
• But remember, enjoying your life doesn't mean filling it up with accomplishments. The time you spend with your family is far more important than what you think you need to achieve. 
• Working with your hands, rather than only with your brain, is extremely relaxing.
• Curious George is hysterical.
• Pumpkin plants need a lot of feedings if you want to make a pumpkin pie this fall. 
• A car with air conditioning equals liberation.

The Captain and Terena

Rick and I were asked to perform at a friend's wedding. The theme: 1920's circus. And what a circus it was! Beautiful costumes, talented dancers and singers, and the grand-finale: the wedding vows performed as if the bride and groom were in a 1920's silent film.

Also performing was... The Captain and Terena (pun intended)!

My hubby was an acrobat in a San Francisco circus when he was in his 20's, and is still a talented juggler and performer. So when our friends asked us to perform, he dusted off a classic knife throwing act he'd done back then and asked me to assist. Of course I said yes. Who wouldn't want their husband to throw knives at them?

We were asked in the fall, so we had plenty of time to practice for a March wedding. We should have had enough time, but Rick picked up two big work projects that lasted through January. And there were the holidays, a couple of illnesses ran through the house and my shoulder started acting up again, making physical activity painful. Suddenly it was the end of February and we'd just finished the script.

It's never a good idea to do a knife throwing act without practicing a lot, so I called a good friend to help. Isn't it great we have the kind of friends who will agree to assist with a knife throwing act? We ran the act with him and discovered the hand cuffs were too small, the rubber glove wouldn't pop unless blown up fully, and some of our jokes fell flat. But we also discovered new jokes and problem solved the technical issues. With the wedding only two days away, we were ready.

On the day of the wedding, we got a call from the bride. The theater they had rented for the event wouldn't allow us to throw knives. How the hell do you do a knife throwing act without throwing knives? I met with the theater manager and explained how the routine worked, but they were still insistent that we couldn't throw the knives. OK, no problem.

Seriously, it wasn't that big of deal because our knife throwing act is a gag; no actual knives are thrown at a person. I don't want to give it all away, but lets just say we give the victim... I mean volunteer from the audience... a major fear-factor. There's a little risk because we were using real knives, so practice is imperative. No one could be killed,  just nicked if we missed the balloon. Luckily for our volunteer, we didn't miss.

Our performance was a smash! We picked a random name from a list of people the bride thought would be good for the act, and he was perfect. He was nervous as hell, but funny and willing to do what we asked, even being handcuffed to a wooden target, blindfolded, and then asked to hold onto balloons Rick would pop with his knives. The audience was in on the gag and laughed loudly. At the end of the act, Rick and I traded places, so I got to "throw" the last knife at the rubber glove the volunteer held between his legs. Rick handed me his hat and jacket and then stripped off the rest of his suit, revealing a red sparkly dress and hose. He was adorable.

I loved performing with him, but I admit it was a little stressful too. Any time you perform with someone, you have to navigate each other's fears and insecurities: try doing that with your spouse. But standing on stage next to my husband while the audience laughed and cheered our performance was exhilarating.

Plus, it felt mighty fine wearing a slinky red dress and jacket and still be able to turn a few heads at age 45.  It helped that my mini-cleavage was smashed together by the dress. Hiding the wireless mic was a challenge, though.

Alas, I don't have any photos from the act yet, but when I get some from the bride, I'll share them here. You've got to see my hubby in his dress. 

The fear of falling.

It was a scary couple of weeks after Queen Teen's fall. Her hand remained swollen and bruised, and even though the first set of x-rays showed no fractures, we waited anxiously for the second set to confirm. Sometimes it can take several day or weeks for a fracture to become apparent in an x-ray. Queen Teen wore a big black wrist brace and couldn't use her walker. Instead, Rick or I helped her walk.

But the worst thing was the depression. She became more sullen and moody every day. School was out for Thanksgiving break (a whole frickin week!) so there was nothing to distract her. She was mighty sick of movies after day three, and the distraction of Thanksgiving day only helped a little. By day five she was lying on her bed weeping because she couldn't find the Evil Step-Mother figurine that goes with the Cinderella. Plus, it was raining, which always puts her in a bad mood. I felt so bad for her and tried everything to keep her distracted and entertained, but when you can't even look at a book because your hand hurts too much, there isn't anything that will cheer you up. Happily, the second set of x-rays confirmed no fractures.

We all survived Thanksgiving break (mostly) and she went back to her doctor the first day of school. The doctor pushed and pulled on her wrist and hand to double check for hidden fractures or cracks, but other than a sore thumb and a couple of small bruises, Queen Teen seemed fine. She returned to school with a big grin on her face and we announced to her teachers and classmates that she was fine. She decided to keep wearing the brace though because using her walker hurt her hand without it.

Queen Teen has fallen this hard before. Three years ago she fell in the bathroom, hit her face on the sink, and knocked out a front tooth. Usually she falls about once a day, landing on her butt. Her pale skin is typically mottled with bruises, especially on her legs and feet. We've all become somewhat immune to the fear when she falls. Queen Teen curses her ataxia and gets back up on her own. Sometimes she needs help, like the day she fell into her closet and couldn't find a handhold to pull herself out. When I hear her fall in the next room, I listen closely to see if she's okay, but continue with what I'm doing. If we all didn't adapt to the worry of falling, all three of us would be drinking Vodka before 9:00 am.

But this fall felt different, because this fall scared her. Yes, she was seriously injured, which will rattle anyone, but in the days following the accident, she seemed scared to move. Not just because it hurt her wrist, but because she seemed afraid she might fall again. And I was nervous. The terror I felt when we thought she may have broken her wrist was oppressive. I still can't shake off the fear, the thought that she didn't break anything... this time. What about next time? What if she breaks her leg? She and I clung to each other a lot more than usual, and not just because of the injury or the fact that she needed more help. Our confidence in her ability to always get back up when she fell was shattered.

Queen Teen recovered more quickly than I did. One morning I heard her try to walk to the bathroom on her own, heard her shout "Whoa!" as she began to fall. I jumped out of bed and ran to her side, scolding her to wait for me, to be careful, to not fall down. She let me help, and for a few days I heard her say to herself, "You have to wait for help. You can't do it by yourself."

Shit... have I just made it worse by telling her she can't?

Luckily, Queen Teen isn't a girl who sits and waits for long. She started moving around her room on her own again by holding on to the furniture, and once the second x-rays showed no fractures, I let her. I had to force myself to go back into the other room and let her walk alone. She had to prove to herself she could do it, that she was safe, that she was strong. I had to clamp down on my fear that she would fall again. I had to have faith in her ability to keep getting up.

Today when I took her to school, several of her classmates came out to the car to greet her. They wanted to help. So I brought the walker to her as she got out of the car and allowed two of her girlfriends to guide her into the class. Watching them closely, my heart pounded and I had to force myself not to hover. Queen Teen walked into the class and she was quickly surrounded by a large group of friends who said hi, patted her on the back, touched her hand, asked her if it still hurt, was she okay, could they help. Her aid then entered, looking a little frazzled that she hadn't been there to help Queen Teen inside. This was where QT feel, so the staff and teachers are very nervous about having her walk into the class on her own. I understand, but I have to let her do it. And with that many students surrounding her, supporting her, making her feel safe, I know they won't let her fall.

Queen Teen knows that too. 

Celebration

On thursday morning, I plucked cherries from the tree we share with the neighbors. The birds seem to be lazy this year because there were hundreds of large, sweet, purple-red berries left on the branches.

Usually the birds strip the tree bare the second the cherries ripen. I managed to pick three cups of fresh berries...

...exactly enough to make a Gluten Free cheery and pecan cobbler.

We were preparing for our Graduation Celebration on Saturday, June 25th, and were expecting close to 30 friends and family members to join us for champagne and bbq pork shoulder. Thursday night Rick marinated the pork and then early Fri morning started smoking it in cherry wood chips on the bbq. It took 9 hours, and then we had to finish it in the oven, letting it roast until 11:00 at night. By then, I was sick of the smell of smoked meat and wondered why the hell we didn't just have hamburgers! 

I'm glad we didn't, because the pork was A-M-A-Z-I-N-G. People literally moaned with delight while eating their pulled pork sandwiches dripping with bbq sauce and coleslaw, North Carolina style. And the cobbler? SWOON. It was the absolute best thing I have ever baked. I found the recipe on the blog Gluten Free for Good. I don't know if it was the fresh cherries or the pecan crumble top that made it so good, but the other thing that makes this recipe great is how easy it is. Go ahead, give it a try.

The weather was perfect and my friends crowded onto my recently cleaned deck, chatting, laughing, drinking champagne and eating. My friends have very diverse backgrounds: politically, spiritually and economically. Everyone from Tea Partiers to Socialists. I like spending time with different types of people, hearing different viewpoints and debating the merits of the Obama economic plan. But what my friends have in common is intelligence and the ability to have a good conversation. Strangers talked with each other like long lost friends and we didn't have to resort to party games to keep the mood high. 

Even Queen Teen came outside and joined in the talk. A friend of mine knows ASL and he sat beside her and started signing. She sat up straight and watched him with wide eyes and then signed back. They chatted like that for several minutes. I've never seen her more engaged when someone tries to talk to her. Here was a person speaking her language, OUTSIDE of school, just for fun. What a treat! I could see in her smile how thrilling it was for her to have a conversation with someone that wasn't tied to classwork, how wonderful to be a part of the party instead of just a silent observer. Obviously, I need to provide more opportunity for her to chat with ASL users outside of school. 

She was also ecstatic because there were four other girls at the party, one in particular who hung out with her in her room and played. Later, I popped in The Frog Princess and all the girls watched it together while eating strawberries and tortilla chips. Queen Teen grinned with delight to have so many kids watching a movie with her. 

So many good friends at my party, new and old. Three friends I have known since high school, and one of those drove all the way from Fresno with her family. My brother and his wife were there, and my mom got over her nervousness to drive to Ukiah from her home in Lake County. Laura, my master teacher and soon-to-be-coleague came bearing a gift: the map and key to the MCOE car. "I need the key back, though," she said with a laugh. 

Later that night, when the last of our friends had left and the food had been put away (and I'd scraped the last of the Gluten Free cobbler off the bottom of the pan. Oh my god, it's good!), Rick and I finished an open bottle of wine in our back yard and stared at the starry sky. The night was still warm. Crickets chirped loudly and the night blooming jasmine filled the air with sweetness. Contentment filled me for the first time in ages.  

Reality

"Cinderella remembered me and was happy to see me," Queen Teen said after Cinderella stopped by our table in Ariel's Grotto. The Princess helped Queen Teen stand, hugged her tightly, and then chatted for a moment. She signed Queen Teen's autograph book then moved on to the next table where more starry eyed little girls waited for her.

Cinderella is Queen Teen's favorite. From the moment she first saw the movie when she was 4,  Cinderella has been her bestest imaginary friend and personal hero. And when she actually met Cinderella at Disneyland three years ago, Queen Teen acted as if she'd had lunch with Miley Cyrus. Cinderella is real and lives in Disneyland with the other Disney Princesses, Tinker Bell and Mickey Mouse!

When do kids stop believing that Princess Jasmine and Arielle are real?

At age fifteen I suppose she should be past that stage, but she isn't. In fact, since her hearing disappeared she seems stuck at an in-between stage: too old to be a little girl, but unable to take that leap into being a teenager. She doesn't know who Justin Beiber is and couldn't care less.

When she was 3, she had an imaginary best friend named Bobby who went everywhere with her. He stayed by her side until she was in the 2nd grade, which is when she made real friends. Some girls in her class began sitting with her at lunch, playing with her at recess, and one invited Queen Teen to her birthday party. All through elementary school, she had a large group of girl friends, all of who vanished when she entered Middle School. They moved on to cell phones, spent their time chasing boys, and one began teasing Queen Teen, distancing herself from the "retarded kid." This is the same time Queen Teen's hearing declined, until by the 9th grade Queen Teen was profoundly deaf.

Her imaginary friend has returned, this time by the name of Sara. Queen Teen spends her days at home talking to Sara and Cinderella, laughing at their jokes, arguing over something Queen Teen may have done, debating the merits of good manners, and giving advice. Even at school, I've seen her turn her head and say out loud, "What did you say Sara? Oh yeah... you can say that again."

It makes a lot of sense that she'd talk to people in her head more than the people around her. It's difficult having a conversation with people in the real world. Imaginary people speak a language she can understand, and they always understand her.  Cinderella is one of her best-friends. We visit her every year at her home, Disneyland, and every year Cinderella stops at our table and gives Queen Teen a hug.

This year, Queen Teen finally met her second most favorite Disneyland person, Mary Poppins. Mary Poppins and Bert spent a long time with her, chatting and smiling. They took their time and gave Queen Teen a chance to talk, too, something most people don't have the time to do in the so-called real world.

That's the best part of our trips to Disneyland; every cast-member takes their time with her, even when they're pressed for time by the hundreds of other children waiting their turn to visit. Whoever trains them has done a fantastic job. I wish they could train us how to do it.

How does Queen Teen define reality? It seems that the world she's created inside her own head is more real than the world we all live in out here, with our hectic schedules and demands, our complicated language increasingly difficult to understand, and our too fast pace. If Justin Bieber is the real world, Queen Teen doesn't want anything to do with it.

Queen Teen's Knight of the Bus

Queen Teen has a new champion, a young man who rides the bus with her every morning and afternoon. I'll call him J. On one particular morning, this young man came to her rescue and has continued to be her protector every single morning as they ride the bus to school.

The school bus is crowded now. Thanks to budget cuts and increased student enrollment, the "little buses" are packed two per seat. These buses were built in the early 1980's when kids were decidedly... smaller. Nowadays, only one kid per seat can sit comfortably, two per seat has one kid scrunched against the window and the other hanging off the edge. Of course, none of the kids want to give up the coveted, smashed against the glass, window seat, and by the time Queen Teen gets on the bus there are only aisle seats left. Like the trooper she is, she sat on the edge of the chair two mornings in a row, clinging to the seat back in front of her for dear life, terrified for the 15 minutes she sits on that bus.

Enter her Knight in Shining Armor.

On this morning, Queen Teen climbed onto the bus and stared at the aisle seat, then announced, "I don't like sitting there. I'm scared." There was a pause as the bus driver and I looked at each other, then the bus driver said, "J. Would you mind letting Queen Teen sit next to you by the window?"

J's smile was as big as if we'd told him he gets to drive the bus. He jumped up from his seat and waved at Queen Teen. She walked to him and then squeezed past him onto the seat. I buckled her in and J sat beside her, still grinning.

"Thank you, J," I said.

He kept grinning.

"He likes her," one of the girls on the bus said, and then giggled.

"Yes, I know. They're friends," I said.

"No, he liiiiiikes,  likes her." She giggled again and another girl joined her.

I looked at J. He kept on grinning at me. "That's nice," I said.

And now, every morning, as soon as Queen Teen enters the bus, J jumps up from his seat and gives her the window side. He rides the rest of the route with half of his butt hanging off the seat and his feet planted firmly to keep from falling off, a smile on his face the whole time. Queen Teen is as oblivious as any Royal Princess should be. Of course he offered her his seat, she's a princess!

Now that the girls on the bus have pointed it out, it's pretty obvious that J likes Queen Teen. I wonder how long it will take for Queen Teen to notice, too. I guess as far as potential romances go, this is a sweet beginning.

(but he'd better keep his hands to himself or else!)

But it's Wednesday! Laura comes on Thursday!

Me - "I'm going to pick you up from school today and then we're going on a walk with Laura and your friend Eden."

Queen Teen - (scowl)

Me - "What?"

QT - "I don't think I like that."

Me - "Why?"

QT - "I just don't."

Me- "You don't want me to pick you up from school?"

QT - "I don't know."

Me - "You don't want to go on a walk with Laura and Eden?"

QT "No."

Me - "Why? It will be fun."

QT - "No it won't."

Me- "But why? You like going out with Laura and you haven't seen Eden in a long time."

QT - "Because I only go out with Laura on Thursday."

Me - "You can go out with her twice this week. Today and tomorrow, on Thursday."

QT - "No."

Me - "No?"

QT - "Today is Wednesday. I don't go out with Laura on Wednesday. I only go out with Laura on Thursday."

Me - "This is an extra special, fun trip with your friend."

QT - "I don't think I like that."

Me - "Well... I'm still going to pick you up from school today."

QT - (deeper scowl) - "Hmph!"

Me - (under my breath) "This is going to be fun."

The Giants are in the Playoffs! And you can all thank me

(image from Gear up for Sports)

For the first time since 2003, the San Francisco Giants have made it to the playoffs. This is also the first year I attended a baseball game. Actually, I've been to a few games in my life, mostly high school and amateur softball teams. My dad was on a team when I was a kid called "The Fat Vikings." They were really called something else, but the winery's logo that sponsored the team was "FV," so that became their name (I wonder how the winery felt about that?)

I saw the Giants vs. the Brewers on Sept 19th at AT&T park with my two good friends, Jody and Patrick. We sat in the Club section where the seats have backs and it's a short walk to get a beer. And speaking of beer, they now serve Gluten Free beer at the ball park. Say what you want about "yuppie" ball parks, it made my day to drink a real beer at a real baseball game. Wearing the SF Giants cap and shirt my friends had brought me, I felt fully "Giantified." 

The ball park is gorgeous, with towering rows of seats to the West and South, and shorter bleacher seats to the East.  From our seats we could see the enormous Bay Bridge and boats gliding slowly across the the cool gray water of the San Francisco bay. The sky was gray, but the grass of the field was brilliant green.

image from http://sanfrancisco.diarystar.com/venue-reviews/

At first, I felt pretty odd sitting in the ball park with my beer and Giant's gear. I never watch games on TV and didn't know who any of the players were. Buster Posey looked like a 16 year old kid who should have been in Sunday school, not a baseball game. And when people started booing for Juan Uribe I thought he played for the other team and somehow I'd missed the change in the inning. Bottom of the 2nd? Second what? Why was it called bottom and top? I know this is San Francisco, but that's ridiculous.

Patrick and Jody were patient answering my questions (or at least they hid their laughter), and eventually, the game started to make sense. When the Brewer left-fielder made an incredible catch in the first inning I clapped with the rest of the fans, understanding that sometimes you have to cheer for the opposing team when they play that well. But when Sunday school boy Buster Posey hit a home run early in the game, I cheered even louder. This was my team, baby, and we were winning!

Patrick, Me and Jody, and the Giant Orange hand of beer goodness

The Giants did win that game, going on to battle Chicago and then San Diego and making it to the playoffs. Jody sent me a message after the Giants won yesterday. "You're good luck, Terena!"

Yep, all baseball virgins are good luck.

Now I understand why people go to ball games. It's like a giant party with a game to tie us all together. You forget your own problems and the problems of the world and just focus on the simple game of baseball. When the game is on in a grocery store or my car radio I pay attention, wanting to hear the score and find out who's hitting, who's pitching, who struck out. I doubt I'll ever spend time glued to the TV watching the game like my grandmother, but now that I've seen the Giants, they feel like my team, and I want to know how they're doing.

And now a word from my favorite ball player, Ebby Calvin LaLoosh. A good friend of mine used to say, "This is a very simple game. You throw the ball, you catch the ball, you hit the ball. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, sometimes it rains." Think about that for a while.

Old Friends

While Queen Teen and I were enjoying a day in San Francisco on Tuesday (Aug 4th), some good friends of ours drove in to the city to see us. Queen Teen hasn't seen Sandy in 6 years, far too long, especially since Sandy is her Godmother. Time got away from us and we live too far away from one another to pop in and say hi.

We met at the Starbucks on Irving. I gave the FM device to Sandy and the two of them chatted while Sandy made Queen Teen a beaded bracelet. Then we all walked over to Golden Gate park and wandered the arboretum. It was one of those rare, warm and sunny San Francisco days, with not much wind and zero fog. We caught up on the news while looking at the flowers and unusual plants in the garden. Queen Teen liked exploring and at one point reached out to touch the soft baby's tears that were growing along a stone wall.

After a few hours, Sandy and her family had to leave, so Queen Teen and I drove to West Portal to meet another dear friend, Barbara, who was just getting off work. I stayed with Barbara in the city for part of the time I was taking my summer classes, but she hasn't seen Queen Teen in several years. We grabbed a late lunch and then strolled around the neighborhood, popping into Goodwill to check out the sale. The West Portal Goodwill is where rich people cast off the outfits they've worn once or twice, so you can find some great deals on designer clothing there (dang! why did I say that? now everyone will go there). Then we drove Barbara home and met her new kitty. Queen Teen is allergic so wouldn't touch the cat.

We returned to our friend's house in South San Fran for the night. They have a daughter, a precocious and adorable 22 month old girl who repeats everything you say whole showing you her toys. Queen Teen was enamored and the two girls spent a lot of time staring at each other.

I wish that circumstances had been different and that we had been able to stay in the Bay Area, but the cost of living made it impossible. So we moved north when Queen Teen was two, leaving behind a large group of friends and their kids who I think of as my nieces and nephews. I wish we could have kept performing at Renaissance Fairs and playing at the Dickens Fair, attended events and parties. We are a part of a large network of performers and friends who are more like a family than just pals. But when we moved we had to leave all of that behind. Queen Teen has grown up separated from these people who love her, and I regret that.

We'll just have to come to the City more often to say hello.