16 Years Ago Tonight…

Sixteen years and two days ago, I went to the hospital to have a baby.  But the baby, despite his gargantuan size, was feeling quite cozy and decided not to come out yet.  So, with the IV still in my hand, I was sent home for a “good night’s sleep”…. whatever.  I felt like I had swallowed a watermelon… I was measuring 43 cm across the giant mound.  It was TIME!  It was actually nine days PAST the due date, but my four children NEVER paid attention to due dates.

Ironically, it was the Canada Cup hockey game that night….. and it was playing on the TV in the hospital.  And my husband was enthralled in watching the grown men on thin blades of steel, balancing on slippery ice, using weapons to hit a rubber puck at the net. Thankfully, my friend Barbie had come to visit me on the supposed night of my birthing… and gave me a ride home…. with the IV still in my hand…. for my “good night’s sleep.”

We went back to the hospital on September 13th, in hopes of delivering a child.  We never found out the sex of our children until we could see proof with our own eyeballs.  So, we were unaware that it was our first SON…. and unaware that he had the largest head ever to travel through a birthing canal.  The memory still makes me wince and sit delicately on my chair.  After much pushing and pulling and prodding and probing, Austin was born at the stroke of midnight.  The doctor asked us if we wanted his birthday to be Friday the 13th, or Sept. 14th…. that is how I heard it anyway… and we chose the 14th.  For 16 years, September 13th has held a special place in my heart as the day I almost had a son.

He looked like a hockey player who had recently lost a fight at the blue line, due to some of the prodding and probing… but we loved  him anyway.  Looking back, this was the first of four or five times the skin would be missing on his face.  It should have been a red flag for me as his mother, but no.

Tomorrow Austin turns 16…. but it could have been today.  Oh, the power in the hands of a mother on the birthing table.

Happy Birthday, son.  You have shown yourself worthy of being a fighter to overcome insurmountable odds… from the very beginning.  I’m so proud of the man you are becoming.  My buttons are bursting, almost as badly as September 13th, sixteen years ago!

Typical for Me!

Tuesday morning my terribly athletically addicted son got up when the first number on the clock was a FOUR… and went to “stick time” at the local ice arena.  When a seven appeared on my clock, I entered the land of the non-sleeping and hurried off to meet a fellow crazy homeschool mom to plan our brains out for the coming school year.  It was a good time at Cabin Coffee…. a quaint little coffee shop that actually made me feel like I was in Lake Tahoe for a few hours…. logging saws on the wall, logs sticking out everywhere… bears… lanterns… circular saw blades.  Very cabin-y.  When all that was finished, I went to Austin’s friend’s house to pick him up after their pre-dawn hockey adventure.  I pulled into the driveway and hopped out to knock on the door.  No answer.  I rang the doorbell several times.  There were no dogs barking, which made me curious…. that they would keep a collie outside in August in Phoenix.  A bit frustrated that my son wasn’t waiting for me with great anticipation… I called his cell phone. “Dude, I’m at the front door.”  “That’s funny, Mom, because we are outside the front door too!”  “Oh.”  Wrong door.  I was really close.. just one house away.  Thankfully the neighbors weren’t home.

Today my overly popular babysitting daughter was watching two little girls a few streets over.  She has watched these two for over a year.  At 6:22 pm as I was enjoying a Caesar salad with mushroom and olives and a delectable boca burger, the aforementioned daughter texted me and asked me to come pick her up.  I dropped my fork, grabbed my keys and was out the door before anyone could yell “Cowabunga, Dude.”  So I pulled up and honked the horn… just like a tacky date would!  My daughter did not appear.  I hopped out of the van and knocked on the front door.  This time the dogs barked like CRAZY miniature attack animals.  But no one answered the door.  Then I heard voices… coming from the next door house… and I recognized one voice.  I was really close…. just one house away.  Thankfully the neighbors weren’t home.

Typical for me!

Can you say Haboob?

Our re-entry to Phoenix, after a cool and lovely trip to Northern California, was not only welcomed by the largest haboob (sand storm) in recent history… but HUMID heat.  Whatupwitdat?  It’s supposed to be a dry heat.  We’re famous for DRY heat.  We got into our van on the day after we arrived home and the thermometer was burning the number 118 into my sweaty eyeballs.  Nora, my 7-year-old, who is experiencing her first Phoenix summer, whined, “Why couldn’t we just stay in Tahoe?”  I wondered the same thing!  Dry 107 is NOT the same as humid 107.  Not even close.

Photo credit to Dan Z. http://www.flickr.com/photos/55358384@N04/5907025323/

My plan to have the garage cleared for my van’s shady shelter through the scorching months has not yet materialized.  It’s too hot to clean the garage.  Why didn’t I think of this in January???  I went out there quickly at 7:00 am and analyzed the situation.  Biggest obstacle: city-certified rolling trash AND recycle cans.  They are huge… and stinky on occasion.  All the other junk (hockey nets, weight bench, bicycles, hockey equipment, kayaks, huge alternative fuel gas tank, shop vac, etc.) can be put on the unseen side of the house in the backyard.  But the non-attractive rolling trash receptacles have to be accessed on different days and dragged to the road.  “Put them behind your side gate,” is the logical answer.  But we have Houdini, the escape dog, as a beloved pet.  Not only is our side gate double supported with plywood on the back (because of Houdini breaking the slats to escape) but there are cinderblocks on both sides of the gate, so Houdini won’t push through.  There is a 4×4 buried in the ground under the gate as well, to hinder dig-through escape attempts.  Houdini is only 11 pounds.  But she is a wily and surprising 11 pounds.

So, my plan is to keep the cans in the front yard on the side of the house that is least visible from the road.  AND, get this, put a huge pot with a prolific plant in front of them.  We have Nazis on our HOA board, but I think this might work.  Afterall, we haven’t received a letter from them in at least two months now.  The letters have come regularly… for six years…. every few months… for basketball hoops… wrecked cars in the driveway…. cars parked in the street… weeds…. garbage cans NOT behind the gate… and my personal favorite, 50 pink flamingos standing in our yard.  Hey, the pot-with-prolific-plant shield is worth a try so I can get the van in the garage.  I’ll keep you posted.

Milestones for the Month

We have reached several milestones in our lives this month. None has gone by without notice…. and with much thanksgiving in our hearts.

Jan. 14…..   FOURTEEN years since we made the big move from Alberta, land of the Oilers, to Phoenix, land of the Coyotes.  The two hockey teams face off this Tuesday night here in Phoenix and we will be there.  Oilers are doing so poorly this year, I can’t bring myself to wear the jersey.  But Rick will…. and I’ll be sitting next to him. 

Jan. 20…. my baby sister turned 40.  That just means I’m closer to 50.  Milestone… whatever.

(I made this cool t-shirt that says “Christy is 40… yippy!”)

Jan. 22…… Nora has been in her forever family for one month!  It seems like so much longer than that!  She is fitting in perfectly… unbelievably, really.  She is such a happy little girl from the moment she wakes up… bringing pure joy to our home.  We are thankful that God had us picked out for her years ago… as we prayed and waited.  If I had made a list (which I partially did in my mind) of all the characteristics I hoped she would have that are similar to our family, I don’t think I would have listed all of the ones she came with!  God knows what he’s doing, people, when he places orphans in families. 

Jan. 23…. the end of the first week after Austin’s snowboarding accident.  I am amazed once again at God’s healing hand and his creation of the body that heals itself!  Austin’s face looks 90% better than it did seven days ago.  We are so thankful that no bones were broken (a hairline nasal fracture does not count – no cast required!) and he’s doing okay mentally and physically.  It could have been so much worse!  Austin has an appointment in Feb. with the neuro-psychologist for baseline testing.  I’m relieved that it is finally being done!  Sadly, it took 6 (or 7?) concussions to get him into the office!  Sheesh!

Thankfulness is leaking out of my heart today.  What do you have to be thankful for?

My Son (the stud) is now Famous!

(Photo: David Wallace)

Here is the link to the news story on Austin, our 14-year-old son.  (My name is even in bold in the article!!!) 

http://www.azcentral.com/sports/heatindex/articles/2010/09/21/20100921heat-index-crosby-triathlon.html

COOLIO!

Horror of Horrors

Yesterday was an exciting day for our just-turned-14-year-old son, Austin, the triathlon winner.  A sports writer from our local paper came to interview Aus about his hockey to triathlon story.  He said that he checked out the results from the race and he had to go up four or five age categories before Austin’s score was not in the top five!  We didn’t know that. When Austin told him that just two weeks before the race he only knew how to doggy paddle, the guy was sold.  The story will run next Wednesday (of course I’ll link the article here!) and he is also submitting the story to the major US triathlon magazine… which I don’t know the name of.  I’m new to this triathlon deal.  Just three weeks ago I thought triathlon was spelled triathalon.  See, I’ve come a long way already.

Ok, onto the horror of horrors that has had you gripped from the moment you read the title of this blog.  About twenty minutes into the interview, a photographer shows up at the house to do a photo shoot of Austin.  The first words out of his mouth were, “Is there a trophy room where Austin has his awards?”  Well, yes there is.  But it’s the boy’s room.  The messy boy’s room.  The room with clothes on the floor and unmade beds.  I actually put my hands to my head and spoke the words, “Horror of horrors!” out loud, revealing my housekeeping secrets.  Downstairs is sparkling clean.  Past the middle landing on the stairs, you’re on your own, baby.  Hard hats may be required.  I have too many things to worry about like cooking, and laundry, and homeschooling, and gardening, and adopting, etc. to worry about the kids’ rooms being spotless.

They didn’t even give me two minutes of grace time to throw things under the beds.  The photographer was right on my heels going up the stairs.  Without much shame, I started shoving, hiding, smoothing, throwing, moving, etc.  We did get one-quarter of the room presentable in about five minutes.  To calm my nerves, I had to leave the room while they took the pictures.  Good grief.  Don’t worry, my picture won’t be gracing Good Housekeeping anytime soon.  The word is out, unfortunately.

I’ve always said, “If you want to see me, come on over!  If you want to see my house, please make an appointment for two weeks out.”  See, it’s true!

My Son is a STUD!

This is a blog about my son Austin.  He is 13-years-old for 10 more days.  He is one amazing child.  Please allow me a few seconds for a proud Mommy moment.  After playing hockey for 8 years, he was told in March that he has had too many concussions for any future contact sports.  We all cried for three days and then went to California for a week to recover.  Aus is very athletic.  He has a clear glass trophy on his shelf that bares proof:  National Champion – Fastest Skater.  We could not be more proud… and then hockey was gone.

Since May, Austin has started riding his road bike…. not just around the neighborhood either….long rides.  Within the last six weeks he started riding  thirty-two miles 2-3 times a week.  Intense biking.  He even got some stretchy shorts!  In June he road 72 miles around Lake Tahoe in one day.  Amazing…. and when he got home he asked if anyone wanted to go swimming in the lake. (I said no.) 

Then Austin found out about triathlons.  They are very popular in the Southwest, where we happen to live.  Might have something to do with our amazing weather MOST of the year.  It was 109 today…. not amazing quite yet.

Austin can swim.  But he has never had swim lessons and didn’t know any strokes or how to breathe while swimming until last week.  And he can run.  But he only started running within the past two weeks for training.  It was 2-3 mile runs 4-5 times.  That’s it.

This morning, my brave and strong son entered his first mini triathlon, the Anthem Sprint Triathlon.  3 mile run.  12 mile ride.  400 meter swim. 

Not only did he finish, but he took first place in his age division (11-14 years old) and beat the second place guy by over nine minutes.   His time was 1:15:39.  Then we heard the results from the next age group (15-18) and we realized he beat the winner of that category by more than four minutes.  Wow.  Imagine how well he’ll do once he learns to swim smoothly!

When asked what his favorite part of the race was, Austin replied with a coy grin, “Passing people on my bike.”  He also told me during the run when he passed other runners and they saw his age on his calf many said in tired dismay, “He’s ONLY 13!”  Made me smile.

We are so proud of Austin and the way he has kept a great attitude through the whole hockey kerfuffle.  (That’s fun to say!) Seriously, he ate, drank, slept and breathed hockey since he was in diapers.  He never played another sport…. until now.  WOW!

Old Dog Learns New Tricks

Here we are at our friend’s, Bruce and Connie, house in California… playing the train game Ticket to Ride.  Obviously someone just did something naughty…. you can tell by the faces in this photo. I’ve been friends with these folks for over 30 years.  WOW!  We still try to get together every year for a vacation of games, movies, laughs and more games.

 

In March when we were dealt the unwanted hand of “no more hockey” for our 13-year-old hockey-loving son, we cried for two days and then went to Bruce and Connie’s house for a week.  We needed the friendship… the laughs… the games.. the distraction from the life we’ve known for eight years that ended abruptly… and the life we thought we would be living for another eight years at least. 

 

While we were freeloading at their home, I learned two valuable tidbits from my friend, Connie. 

 

#1.  If you put parchment paper on the baking sheets while you bake cookies it makes your life easier, tidier, quicker and your cookies look WAY better.  She’s probably known this trick for years, but kept it a BIG FAT secret until this past March.  It’s only been two months since that miraculous discovery and I’m already on my second box of parchment paper.  Totally awesome!

 

#2.  Women who are slowly losing their sight REALLY should invest in a 10X magnifying mirror for the sake of their eyebrows.  I asked Connie for a mirror and she handed me this little gem.  I took one glance and was horrified at the condition of my blind eyebrow tweezing ability.  I have since purchased a purple $3 10X magnifying mirror at Walmart and my life is forever changed. 

 

There you have it.  Old dog learns new tricks.  It is possible.  (Makes me wonder what else Connie has been holding out on me???)

Electronic Garage Sale

Yes, the Crosbys are at it again.  Craigslist and eBay, baby! I’m not sure where all the junk comes from that accumulates in our garage, but I had had it “up to here!” and the electronic garage sale commenced last night. 

I told my dear husband (the one who’s been HAD ~ Hockey Attachment Disorder) “SURELY, we should be able to sell some hockey equipment or sticks!”  Seriously, there are four full bags of equipment and at least 15 ice sticks and a bazillion street sticks.  He agreed and sauntered off to his lair.  He returned shortly with two sticks in hand.  They looked new… well, slightly used.. and I inquired (because inquiring minds want to know!) “How much can we sell them for?”  It was a normal conversation right up until that point.  No eyes bulging.  No rapid breathing.  Then he answered… “I think we could get about $150 for this red one…. it’s not available in stores yet…. and $120 for this silver one.”  Now the eye bulging and rapid breathing began.  When I regained conciousness, many questions were running amuck in my mind. “WHAT?!?”  Did he steal them?  Did we PAY that much???? How much stuff does he have in the garage that is worth over $100 a piece? I started envisioning nice, new patio furniture in brown and lime green stripes…. a day at the spa with the heated stones on my spine….

A story came forth….. Austin had been eyeing this silver Bauer Vapor X60 stick with Stick’um-dimple-grip (whatever!) for months and when he broke one of his previously used sticks he had enough money to buy it used.  So, after a practice Rick and Aus went into the suck zone store and were perusing the sticks.  They found these two aforementioned sticks that were practice-used by Phoenix Coyotes players and were engraved for them…. Lepisto and Lombardi.  (Whoever they are!) Then God stepped into the hockey stick store… and shut off the electricity.  Standing in the dark, Austin asked the salesman, “Can we still buy these?”  Come to find out the register was electronic…. and obviously wouldn’t work.  I’m not sure if the guy needed a sale to stay employed or what, but he offered, “If you have cash, you can have both sticks for $40.”  Total…. $20 each!

At that moment I’m shocked that my husband didn’t go into coronary stress for the pure joy of the moment.  The sticks were purchased and stashed in the hockey cave (where my van should be) until such a time as this.  I do hope some other member of the male species who has HAD will come across the ebay auctions and salivate on his keyboard while typing in his bid so the joy keeps being spread around.

A Sad Sad Week

Last week was perhaps the saddest week of our lives.  We took our 13 year old son to the neuro surgeon to have a consultation and testing regarding his multiple concussions.  This is the son who went to New York and won the fastest skater in the USA out of 1,800 boys his age.  He has played ice hockey since he was six years old.  When he’s not on the ice, he’s on eBay looking at equipment to buy, playing mini-sticks in the loft or in our cul-de-sac playing street hockey.

You guessed it, his ice hockey career is over.  It’s simply too risky.  The doctor told us that he only clears players to play after two concussion IF they are going for a scholarship for college.  Austin has had four, maybe five, concussions and is no longer cleared to play.  We all cried for two days.  It has been his dream to play in the NHL since he wore his Edmonton Oilers diaper shirts.  Last June when Sidney Crosby held Lord Stanley’s Cup above his head, Austin said, “Well, I’ll be the second Crosby to hold it high!” 

Austin is upset but seems to be dealing with it in a fairly grown-up disappointed fashion.  He has started looking into other activities like cycling, flag football, possibly tiddly winks.  Just kidding.  He is super fast on skates so I suggested speed skating… but unfortunately he watched Apolo Ohno… and saw his uniform (read: unitard) and politely declined.  Being his mother, I recommended ping pong or golf or tennis or ribbon dancing….  but no.

My husband took it even harder than Austin did.  Rick loves hockey.  He actually has Hockey Attachment Disorder, which simply means that I’ve been H.A.D.  He has been coaching our boys’ teams for several years, but this year was really great… awesome parents, great kids, unity, FUN, and minimal drama.  I’m thankful we ended on a good note, but sad that my men are so glum. Rick always assumed that he would be coaching his boys until college…. and now it’s over.

It’s not easy being a mom when you see your son’s dream taken from him. It’s not fair.  And there’s no one to blame.  We have been encouraging Austin with the idea that he will now be discovering another sport that he could be excellent at, that he wouldn’t have known about if he continued with hockey.  This is not reassuring to him at this time, but I believe it’s true.  He is a dedicated athlete nonetheless.  I know of no other kid his age who has a self-imposed work out regime like his.  Seriously, he’s ripped at 13!

The old cliché is true once again, when God closes a door, He opens a window.  We’ll be looking through the windows for a while here.