Doin' the Wave

I consider myself to be a friendly person. I try to say “Hello” or “Good morning” to people I see. I try to acknowledge everyone I know and wave at all of the wavers, but sometimes I miss someone and don’t return the greeting. People have said to me “I walked right past you and you didn’t even notice me!” I feel really bad when that happens because it’s totally unintentional. The same is true when it comes to waving at other drivers. I’m usually off in my own little world when I’m driving in my car and if someone waves and I catch it at the last second I do feel bad for not returning the greeting. 

When we got our first motorcycle, I learned that there was a tradition of waving to each other. At first the whole waving thing was kind of fun. I was just a passenger then and it felt kind of like being in a cool club. I sat on the back and could see everyone who waved, but quickly became surprised at the sheer number of wavers on the road. It can be a little daunting when you pass 10 bikers, car, car, 5 bikers, car, car, car, one biker (did I get everyone?). Tom tended to agree that it was getting a little out of hand, “But,” he said, “what if some guy is just out having a great time riding and he waves it me and I don’t wave back and then it just ruins his day? I don’t want to be the one to do that.” So I waved. But after a while it was only to the ones I actually saw wave first. And then when I got my own motorcycle, waving was not happening because I was terrified of letting go of the handlebars. After I got more comfortable I would wave back. But again, the waving was starting to get to be more of a responsibility than a friendly gesture. Did these people waving at me do it because they really wanted to say “Hello,” or because it was something they are supposed to do? Because it’s actually not a wave, it’s sticking your arm out low, next to your leg. I like to put my hand up and wave like a kid. “Hi! Have a nice day!” (big silly grin). I know, it’s not cool and bikerish, but you get my point. These days, I kind of wait it out to see if the oncoming biker is going to stick his arm out. Then I sort of assess the situation. Some people don’t even look at me when they wave. They just stare straight ahead. I wonder if they even care if I wave back or not.

Years ago we had a VW Bug and there was a whole waving community. We sold “the wave” when we sold the bug. And now we have the Jeep. As soon as we bought it Tom said, “You know Jeep drivers wave at each other.” Again? “Are you kidding me? Which ones? The CJ people? The 4 door people? New Jeeps? Old Jeeps? What about the whole Jeep SUV family of vehicles? Next I suppose you’re going to tell me there’s a Subaru wave!” So if you see me on the road on my motorcycle or in my Jeep and I don’t wave, I’m not being rude. I probably didn’t see you.

It's on the List!

The end of summer is quickly approaching and I must admit, so far it has been a great one. The weather has been close to perfect. My summer job this year was teaching summer school, which was during the month of July, so I had the whole month of June to get a lot of stuff done. When I have things that need to get done, I make a list. Then I’m sure I’ll get everything done. That list I’m talking about is just a list that sort of floats around in my head during the school year. It’s the “I’ll do it during the summer” list. Here are some of the jobs on that list.

            -Clean out and organize the attic

            -Go through clothes and make a Good Will run

            -Plant flowers in the front flower boxes

            -Sew stuff/do the mending

            -Paint Sammy’s room

-Wash windows (who am I kidding? This one should read, “Hire someone to wash windows)

It’s that list of jobs that I’m now saving for a rainy day, but unfortunately (or fortunately), this summer, the rainy days have been few and far between. Why would I climb around in my hot, stuffy attic when it’s beautiful outside?

I’d like to say that I’ve tackled that long list of “to-do’s” that I had planned for myself, but I’m slightly ashamed to admit, I haven’t been nearly as productive as I should have been. I can’t even blame Tom for this. None of the jobs on this list (except maybe the painting), are what I can even say that I couldn’t accomplish without his help. I could say there’s no excuse, but honestly, I’m not lacking for excuses. Some excuses come with time. “Its already 2:30, Tom will be home soon, (5:00), so I better not start a big job now.” So my flower boxes remain empty and my attic stays unorganized. It is so late in the summer now that the only thing that is going in those flower boxes are dead leaves. Although I have been going through stuff in my closet. I currently have a pile of clothes that no longer fit and as I step over it each morning I think to myself “I really need to take that stuff to Good Will.” And then I remind myself that it would make more sense to wait until I have gone through the other stuff (like the attic). Now that it’s August and I have to get ready for school to start, I’m sorry to report that these things aren’t going to get done this summer.  While I’d like to say I was highly motivated, I wasn’t. But what I can say is that I’ve had a great summer. The weather was beautiful and I have no complaints. As for my undone tasks? It’s ok. It’ll get done eventually. It’s on the list.

Update: After the realization that I had previously written about this topic (see “breakcrastination” column). I am happy to report that I’ve knocked out some of the items on the above list! If you’re wondering about the attic and the flower boxes…maybe next summer.

The Fastest Way to a Mom's Heart

My husband and I have been spending the past 9 months or so adjusting to what is commonly referred to “empty nest syndrome.’ Our two sons moved out within 2 months of each other and we were devastated. It has been an interesting transition to say the least.  Now that we have nearly a year under our belts, we have found that we love being empty nesters. But still, we miss our boys. Even though our son Robby lives close by, we rarely see him. I can usually bribe him to come over and visit with groceries and the promise of a hot dinner. But he lives a pretty busy life, so those visits are few and far between. But if all it takes is a bag ½ full of groceries to get a quick visit, I’m all in. In fact, I’ve found that the secret to getting my grown boys to visit or even hug me, it’s groceries. It’s true. The fastest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. And to be honest, handing my son a bag of groceries makes me happy.

Recently, I had to return my son, Sam, to college after a few days home with us. Because the drive is so long, I opted to spend the night in his apartment before embarking on the 4 hour trip home. After we walked downtown to get some pizza, we settled in for the night. The next morning, as I waited to take him to class on my way out of town, I got to do some things for my son in his place, that I would have to evoke a screaming fit to get him to do in mine.

            I washed his dishes

            I cleaned out his fridge

            I emptied the garbage

When it was suddenly time to go, I wished out loud that we would have gone to the store to get him some groceries the night before. But it was too late. He was going to be late for class and I needed to get on the road. But the vision of that empty fridge haunted me. I felt terrible. Then a miracle happened. Less than 2 minutes after I dropped him off, Sam called to say that the class wasn’t meeting today. “I guess we can go get me some groceries,” he said cheerfully. Happiness washed over me. I didn’t have to leave my son with an empty fridge after all. Maybe the fastest way to a man’s heart is through is stomach, but the fastest way to this mom’s heart is through a grocery store.

Don't Follow Me, I'm Lost Too!

If I ever had the opportunity to meet the person who invented Google Maps, I would probably buy that person dinner...for life. I was reminded of my inability to navigate without it on a recent trip to Ann Arbor. If you haven't been there, downtown Ann Arbor, particularly around the college, is a labyrinth of cross-cross streets that jut out and suddenly end or turn with no notice. If you are at all directionally challenged like I am you can understand completely when I say there was no way I was going to find my son without that app. After two days of driving around the same one mile square block of streets, stores, and college buildings and thinking to myself, “OK, this looks familiar.” I'm pretty sure I couldn't find my way to my son's apartment from one block in any direction. At one point, Tom said, “Lets not use that, lets just try to follow the blue line and you tell me how to get there.” I studied the screen for about 15 seconds and thought to myself, “Good Lord. I've forgotten how to read a map!” And immediately pressed “go.”

       “In 300 feet, turn left on State Street.” Calm relief washed over me. We were going to arrive at our destination.

       My directional challenge is legendary. I can go to my friend’s house 6 times and still ask for her address, you know, just in case I need to punch it into Google Maps. One time, waaaayy before Maps, I decided to take a trip down to Vicksburg from Lansing to see my grandparents. This was a trip I had taken hundreds of times from the back seat of our green Dodge van. I was sure and actually very confident that I knew how to get there. “Are you sure you know the way?” my parents asked several times. “Of course I do!” Unfortunately, after what seemed like a really long time, my companion asked, “Shouldn't we be there by now?”

             “Don't worry, our exit should be coming up….Indiana!!” You could say that missing I-94 is akin to taking a wrong turn at Albuquerque. We did finally make it and dinner was cold, but I can promise you, that was the last time I ever relied on my instinct instead of a directions, a map, or, (you guessed it), Google Maps. I just had to accept the fact that just because this feels like the way I should turn, I know from experience that most likely it isn't. I might be a little too dependent on this simple app and have probably gone a little further out of my way than necessary because I refuse to veer from the direction on the screen. But I'll tell you what, I haven't accidentally visited Indiana since I discovered Google Maps, and if you're the one who invented it; I owe you dinner.