![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I have just returned from a week spent in Oklahoma with my parents, in the interest of making sure they and my children don't pine away into nothingness from missing one another. I did not kiss the ground when I got out of the airport, but it was a near thing, let me tell you.
This is not to say that Oklahoma is bad. It's not. It is windy, but at least that keeps cow stench to a minimum unless you take a fancy to driving out to a pasture and wandering around. In fact, on Sunday morning last week I stepped outside my hotel room and thought, "Damn, it's so windy he--... oh, wait. I'm in Oklahoma. Right." The weather was actually quite nice, my kids were ecstatic to be back in the state, and I managed to pack up and send a whole bunch of stuff we'd been doing without for six months (and make a tidy bundle on books that, six months later, had me seriously doubting that I cared enough to pay shipping for them).
It's just like a convict who spent three years in a minimum-security facility being asked to go back and stay for a week as a visit only six months later. No matter how not-all-that-bad it is, it is worse when you're stuck there again, no matter how short the duration. No internet and no car of my own left Michelle somewhat... okay, really quite a bit at times freaked out. But I made it through and managed to keep it mostly together. I made it home whole, if not entirely unscathed. Took the opportunity to tell my parents that the divorce was really going to happen, and to my mom's credit, she didn't freak out anywhere nearly as bad as I'd been fearing. Apparently her initial fear reaction was long since past, and now she just wanted to make sure the kids were going to be okay. So I got to talk to her about things without having to be called a bad mother or wife or that I should just stay with him regardless. That was good.
While we were away, Will turned 6. We ended up having a family party for him with my brother and his wife and little girl along with my parents. I wanted tohave an actual party and do something fun, but I was having a hard time coming up with things that I could set up at the last minute. We went through numerous iterations.... Chuck E. Cheese, arcades, hiking, parks, even miniature golf (oh, and I've never in my life spoken to anyone who obviously hated their job more than the guy who answered the phone at Putt-Putt. I mean, damn.). Finally, we settled on it: bowling. I mean, sure it sounds odd, but Will's a boy. Here he gets to take heavy brightly colored balls and throw/roll them down a wooden ramp to knock over stuff at the end. And I'm encouraging it! How could that not be fun?
Well, I had my misgivings when I arrived. The place was still in late 1972 decor, aside from the addition of the computers for scoring and a few late eighties/early-nineties video games, none of which were actually fun. (Kids' bowling shoes come with velcro now, did you know that?) The Senior Brigade was obviously in force, and I thought that I could not have chosen a less appropriate place for a kid party if I'd tried. Still, the guy was helpful enough, getting us ice and helping to set up tables. He gave us two lanes and set up bumpers on each of them, so that skill was entirely removed from the equation (adding to everyone's enjoyment, even the adults. Hell, I hadn't bowled since before I had kids. I needed all the help I could get). People finally arrived and we started bowling, and suddenly we were all having a great time. Cake was had, presents were opened, and the kids scored as well as the rest of us. At the end of one game, the adults all wanted to play again but Will was in dire need of going home and getting these presents out to play with, darn it.
Final cost for shoes and party and games: $12.75. Watching my son score better than my mom? Priceless. :) I highly recommend it if your kids are of age to go.
Anyway. Once I crawl out from under my mountain of email (see no internet for a week) I'll be around more. Think happy "glad to be home and sleeping on a real fucking mattress" thoughts for me. Thanks. :)
This is not to say that Oklahoma is bad. It's not. It is windy, but at least that keeps cow stench to a minimum unless you take a fancy to driving out to a pasture and wandering around. In fact, on Sunday morning last week I stepped outside my hotel room and thought, "Damn, it's so windy he--... oh, wait. I'm in Oklahoma. Right." The weather was actually quite nice, my kids were ecstatic to be back in the state, and I managed to pack up and send a whole bunch of stuff we'd been doing without for six months (and make a tidy bundle on books that, six months later, had me seriously doubting that I cared enough to pay shipping for them).
It's just like a convict who spent three years in a minimum-security facility being asked to go back and stay for a week as a visit only six months later. No matter how not-all-that-bad it is, it is worse when you're stuck there again, no matter how short the duration. No internet and no car of my own left Michelle somewhat... okay, really quite a bit at times freaked out. But I made it through and managed to keep it mostly together. I made it home whole, if not entirely unscathed. Took the opportunity to tell my parents that the divorce was really going to happen, and to my mom's credit, she didn't freak out anywhere nearly as bad as I'd been fearing. Apparently her initial fear reaction was long since past, and now she just wanted to make sure the kids were going to be okay. So I got to talk to her about things without having to be called a bad mother or wife or that I should just stay with him regardless. That was good.
While we were away, Will turned 6. We ended up having a family party for him with my brother and his wife and little girl along with my parents. I wanted tohave an actual party and do something fun, but I was having a hard time coming up with things that I could set up at the last minute. We went through numerous iterations.... Chuck E. Cheese, arcades, hiking, parks, even miniature golf (oh, and I've never in my life spoken to anyone who obviously hated their job more than the guy who answered the phone at Putt-Putt. I mean, damn.). Finally, we settled on it: bowling. I mean, sure it sounds odd, but Will's a boy. Here he gets to take heavy brightly colored balls and throw/roll them down a wooden ramp to knock over stuff at the end. And I'm encouraging it! How could that not be fun?
Well, I had my misgivings when I arrived. The place was still in late 1972 decor, aside from the addition of the computers for scoring and a few late eighties/early-nineties video games, none of which were actually fun. (Kids' bowling shoes come with velcro now, did you know that?) The Senior Brigade was obviously in force, and I thought that I could not have chosen a less appropriate place for a kid party if I'd tried. Still, the guy was helpful enough, getting us ice and helping to set up tables. He gave us two lanes and set up bumpers on each of them, so that skill was entirely removed from the equation (adding to everyone's enjoyment, even the adults. Hell, I hadn't bowled since before I had kids. I needed all the help I could get). People finally arrived and we started bowling, and suddenly we were all having a great time. Cake was had, presents were opened, and the kids scored as well as the rest of us. At the end of one game, the adults all wanted to play again but Will was in dire need of going home and getting these presents out to play with, darn it.
Final cost for shoes and party and games: $12.75. Watching my son score better than my mom? Priceless. :) I highly recommend it if your kids are of age to go.
Anyway. Once I crawl out from under my mountain of email (see no internet for a week) I'll be around more. Think happy "glad to be home and sleeping on a real fucking mattress" thoughts for me. Thanks. :)
no subject
Date: 2005-04-19 04:24 am (UTC)From: (Anonymous)Spike