Parenting is a contact sport
Some people like to claim their gray hair comes from things their kids did. I see my scars and remember.
I have a long skinny scar that runs from knuckle to knuckle on my ring finger that came while digging in the garden with Michael. He felt so badly when he saw that his little shovel missed its mark and drew blood.
I was surprised how strong he was.
I’ve got a knot on my forehead from trying to help build a fence for the cashmere goats, a 4H project that lived here for 5-6 years. I got clubbed so hard by a round of woven fence wire that was hung up on a t-pole — almost spring-loaded, like a giant mousetrap — that it should’ve killed me. But the kids were all standing there, so I told myself to take the hit and keep on ticking.
Today I went to work with an odd-looking burn on my chin, like a permanent dribble of hot chocolate. I thought for sure at least Bj would say something, but no one asked.
Last night, Sam was determined to learn how to cook fish tacos. He dropped in the first battered fish strip from such a height, the frying oil splashed. Sam got a few splashes on his arm and I took one on the chin. But by the third strip, he was dropping it in perfectly.
Like Jason Robards character said in Parenthood, parenting is “like your Aunt Edna’s ass. It goes on forever and it’s just as frightening” and is unlike football, since there’s no end zone where you get to spike the ball and do your little dance.
Except he missed the part where parenting is a contact sport.
Confessions of a second-grader #5
January 24, 1996
I love Texas because people are nice.
January 25, 1996
I liked the laser light show because the lights went round and round very fast.
January 29, 1996
This weekend my family and I watched the Superbowl! I went to my new house and saw the fans.
February 1, 1996
Friendship is like Sam D.
Confessions of a second-grader #4
December 14, 1995
My favorite Christmas song is Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer. It’s because I like the words.
January 3, 1996
On my Christmas vacation, I went to Colorado to see Grandma and Grandpa. My favorite Christmas gift was a home planetarium.
January 10, 1996
Today I feel happy because I like soap.
Confessions of a second-grader #3
(In November, the teacher, Diane Beaver, writes in several places of Sam’s journal that he’s coming up with the sentences all on his own.)
October 25, 1995
Under my bed there are boys.
November 7, 1995
It wasn’t my fault when I flipped my pencil across the room.
November 17, 1995
I’m so thankful for my special friends. They help me play toys.
Track by Track documentary
Sam and I took in a collection of short films at the Thin Line Film Festival Sunday night, knowing that one of the short features was about a young man much like him.
Track by Track features the story of Kendall Collins, a young man with autism from a small town in Merced County, California. Kendall is a gifted artist and makes some money selling his drawings, even though he isn’t quite sure about handling money. He wants to go to college, because that’s the next step life says will help him be successful. But he still likes to swing on the swing in the side yard of his family’s home.
Sam said he liked the movie very much. The filmmaker, Anna Moot-Levin, allowed Kendall and his family to be fully human, even in such a short feature. I liked hearing the little chuckles in the audience when Kendall said something so plainly descriptive and honest that we in the audience couldn’t help but see ourselves more fully, too. For example, Kendall tells us he won’t wear a ball cap because it makes him look young. Instead, he wears a fedora because it makes him look more like a businessman.
I get that kind of conversation everyday here at home. It’s such a gift.
“Track by Track” was the first film about autism I’ve seen that really gets what our life is about. Unless enough people voted to make it the best short, it won’t show again in Denton. The next screening is in Missoula, Montana. I’m glad I got to catch that firefly when I had the chance.
Confessions of a second-grader #2
With any luck, Sam will comment about the Nintendo accomplishment. He still remembers it — it was a hard-fought win on Legend of Zelda.
September 14, 1995
I feel great because I made it to level seven on Nintendo.
September 19, 1995
On rainy days, I like to get an umbrella, and I open it and I stay inside with it opened.
September 20, 1995
My friend and I had a quarrel. We solved our problem by saying I’m sorry.
Confessions of a second-grader #1
I kept Sam’s journals. I’ll roll out some more highlights over the next few weeks and you’ll see why. Thanks again to all the brave teachers at Argyle Elementary for guiding him.
August 18, 1995
My goal for second grade is to stay in my seat.
September 7, 1995
My favorite city is Bear Valley because there are pine cones.
September 12, 1995
I wish my teacher would blow science bubbles all day today. And for the rest of the week.
Overheard in the Wolfe House #223
Peggy (absently): … and could you help out by putting the dirty dishes away? wait … wait …
Sam (laughing): Sometimes you are as silly as me, Mom.
Overheard in the Wolfe House #222
Peggy: Hey, Sam, are you alright?
Sam (lying on the living room sofa with a sofa cushion over his head): I am so tired.
Peggy: How long have you been tired?
Sam: I spent all day with my phone.
Country cough syrup
Up north, we just bought cough syrup. It works well enough. Then I came to Texas and my college roommate and BFF introduced me to country cough syrup. It works and, like chicken noodle soup, does a whole lot more for your quality of life when you’re feeling bad.
In case you don’t know the recipe, here it is, and offered up for all the people around here still sick with the flu, or fighting a lingering cough (as in about 1/3 of the newsroom):
Brew one cup of black tea. (I like Earl Grey for this one). Add a squirt of lemon juice, a heaping teaspoon of honey (local is best), and a shot of Wild Turkey, or your favorite bourbon.
Drink slowly so the vapors can do their work, too, and then go to bed.