My daughter and I have been watching the Olympic gymnastics competition for the last week and a half and we’ve been both thrilled and frustrated with the results. It was the first time we really sat down together and watched Olympic gymnastics, even though my daughter has been a competitive gymnast for ten of her fifteen-and-a-half years. When Carly Patterson competed in Athens four years ago, it was on TV too late for my daughter to watch live, so I taped it for us to watch the next day. But the next day the media announced the results, so it blew it for us to watch the tapes that night.

This time we cheered together and were ecstatic when Nastia Liukin and Shawn Johnson took the gold and silver in the all-around competition. We felt bad for Alicia Sacramone when she fell off the beam, then fell on the floor during the team competition. We were shocked when she had a great vault during the individual event finals, but was robbed of a medal on that event. We were astounded at some of the high scores given to the Chinese gymnasts even when they made obvious mistakes, like landing on their knees and hands outside the vault boundaries. So unfair… And we were heartbroken for Nastia when she tied for first on the bars, but the screwy new scoring system gave the gold medal to the Chinese gymnast. We couldn’t believe yet another American gymnast was robbed of a medal.

Although we’ve been staying up late most nights to watch the gymnasts compete, it’s been worth it to be tired the next morning. I’m glad my daughter saw the Olympic gymnasts weather the highs and lows of international competition, even if things didn’t always go their way. I think it showed her that most of the time, if you work hard you can attain your goals. And goals are something her previous coach never mentioned, much less wanted to discuss with her gymnasts.

Thanks to the Olympics and a recent switch to a new gym, my daughter’s interest in gymnastics has been revived. She’s working with a more supportive, competent coach who is setting goals for all the girls on the team. While my daughter probably won’t participate in the next Olympic games in 2012, it’s not unreasonable for her to set a goal of receiving a college scholarship in gymnastics. It’s hard to believe, but college is only three years away…

My kids started back to school last week on August 11, which is so totally stupid. Over the years their first day of school has gradually shifted from late August (mildly stupid) to the current start date (totally stupid). They go back to school a full three weeks before Labor Day, which used to be the traditional start of the new school year. With a start date this early in late summer, the swimming pools end up closing the last weekend of July or first weekend of August. So between now and Labor Day, only people with their own swimming pools get to swim. And believe me, it’s still hot and humid in Southern Indiana well into mid-September.

Last week’s cooler, drier weather seemed especially fall-like, which made it feel more like back-to-school despite the early start date. It even seemed darker in the mornings (probably because I was getting up earlier), making it seem as though fall had arrived. I half expected to see fall colors on the trees as I drove to work. At night it’s been cool enough to turn off the air conditioning and enjoy some fresh air. As a child who grew up in Northern Indiana, I never had air conditioning until I moved to Southern Indiana. Cool summer nights were common there. Having lived here for the last twenty-seven years, I don’t think I could survive the summers without air conditioning. Any day or night I can open the windows is a treat.

I think the reason our school year has crept earlier into August is that our school corporation added air conditioning to the schools.  When I was a student, we started after Labor Day because it wasn’t as hot. Once the last school received air-conditioning, I thought the school corporation was moving towards year-round school, but it never happened. Maybe too many parents and teachers opposed it. But In recent weeks, I’ve heard our new superintendent is going to push back our start date. If we’re never going to have year-round school here, then I’d love to return to a traditional school calender. Let summer end when it’s supposed to– when the weather says so, not the school calendar.

It’s time for a change in gymnastics programs for my teenage daughter, a level 9 gymnast who has been in the sport for ten years. Although she is somewhat reluctant to leave the coach she has been with for nine of those years, my husband and I feel this is the right thing to do and the right time to do it. The current program is disorganized, the coaching is mediocre, and our daughter has complained numerous times that the coach is mean or always in a bad mood. Who wants their kid in that environment day after day?

Although there wasn’t a specific issue or event that lead us to make this decision, the social problems that developed among the gymnasts last season didn’t help matters any. The problems spiraled out of control because the coach couldn’t handle the girls, didn’t make them focus on training, and played favorites among them. It got so bad that our daughter thought about quitting because gymnastics wasn’t fun for her any more.

Then a new gym opened on our side of town. We tried out that gym last month and discovered it has better coaching and new equipment. The new coach is knowledgeable about gymnastics, especially college gymnastics, and is motivated and enthusiastic when she works with the girls. In the few days we were there to evaluate the new gym, my daughter’s form improved ten-fold. Her toes were pointed, her knees and elbows were straight, and she was tired at the end of each practice. That’s the polar opposite of her current gym, where her form is so-so and she’s tired only because practices are long and unfocused. Our current coach’s body language reminds me of a deflated balloon: her shoulders are slumped, her feedback to the girls is sparse, and she looks like she’s exhausted. Can you say “wasted money”? I won’t miss the cross-city drive to a run-down gym for sub-par coaching.

I realize my daughter has probably spent more time with her gymnastics coach than she’s spent with me. She’s at the gym 16-20 hours per week, year round. Even though she has complained the current coach is mean and admitted she liked the new coach, switching coaches is still very difficult for her. Gymnastics is a sport where you must trust your coach, since they’re asking you to do things ordinary people would never attempt. And she’s used to a laid-back routine where there are low expectations, long breaks, and free time to chat and socialize with teammates during practice. She knows switching to a new gym means she’ll work harder– something she knows she should be doing, but prefers not doing if she doesn’t have to…

I hope that once we make the switch and she gets to know the new coach and gym better, she’ll understand why we had to make the change. We have three more years of this sport before she goes to college. If she wants to do college gymnastics, we’re finally on the right track towards that goal– and hopefully not wasting any more time or money.

My dreams of a family-bonding vacation to Yellowstone National Park this summer have been completely dashed by several harsh realities. First off, I knew things weren’t going in my favor when I couldn’t find any hotels in or near the park and airfare was ridiculously expensive as far back as last spring. Then my husband and kids pulled rank on me and said they wanted to go to theme parks and water parks (like we always do), instead of visiting Mother Nature’s fantastic theme park. Add to that my husband’s refusal to spend four days driving to and from Yellowstone and I thought it was the final “nail in the coffin” for that trip.

Enter an ailing, aging air-conditioning system that has struggled to keep our house cool amidst our typically hot, humid Southern Indiana summer. A few years back, we had the second floor air-conditioner propped up with a rejuvenating shot of coolant. But like duct tape on a broken chair leg, it was destined not to last forever. So two weeks ago, we got estimates on replacement systems. Before  you could say “expensive,” we threw in a new air conditioner and new furnace for the first floor, a new air filtration system, a new cold air return vent upstairs, and a new water heater (don’t ask!). Sigh… the total cost of replacing everything but the upstairs furnace and the roof (yeah, they’re up next) was equivalent to a trip to Yellowstone– flying first class and eating caviar!

So the family vacation to anywhere, including Yellowstone, is no longer a reality. We’re bummed out, but at least we’re investing in the things that make our home worth living in. Our house is fourteen years old, so it’s inevitable that we have to replace these major appliances, even if it means sacrificing our family vacation. The upside is that we’ll be getting more energy-efficient models and filing for rebates with our local energy company, who is predicting increases in gas prices this winter. And I can take solace in the fact that right now, Yellowstone is shrouded in smoke from wildfires, so we if we were there now, we couldn’t enjoy the fabulous scenery anyway.

Maybe I can put some duct tape on the roof for this winter and begin planning our family vacation for early next summer…the wildfires should be out by then, right? And dreaming doesn’t cost me anything…

My son Eric turned thirteen this month, so he’s officially a teenager now. He’s starting to look more like a young man than a boy, so it’s a bittersweet time for me. His hands are nearly the same size as mine and he’s getting taller than his older sister. His face is still smooth (he’s somewhere between pimples and facial hair) and he has an amazing number of baby teeth for his age. He’s still a loving kid who surprises me with stealth hugs and wants to be tucked in at night (as long as a friend isn’t sleeping over). I savor every minute we can spend together, since I know he will eventually pull away from me– and in a different way than his sister did. If his thirteenth year is anything like hers was, we’ll still be close until fourteen looms on the horizon.

At his annual physical today, the doctor asked him if he had played any summer sports. “Baseball” was the reply. The doctor asked him which position he played and without skipping a beat, my son smiled wryly and said, “The bench.” We all had a good laugh. I realized then that although his laid-back nature can aggravate his father in sports (and me when it comes to school), two of the things I love most about him are his powers of observation and quick wit. He’s paying more attention than we give him credit for and I enjoy his well-timed, humorous comments.

I was surprised and pleased to find out he’s old enough to begin working out with weights. My husband and I discussed this very topic last weekend. It’s good to know that as long as he doesn’t overdo weight training, we can encourage him to begin a program. I’m not talking about pumping him full of steroids and bulking him up into Hulk Hogan. But his middle school has a weight room with equipment kids can use before or after school. Maybe we can talk him into joining the weight training club until he’s old enough to be in the adult weight room at the YMCA.

I know I haven’t written in a long time… I’ve been busy with all-star baseball (which is over now!) and working too much. Last week was a killer! I got up early and worked, then went to work, then stayed late at work, then brought work home and continued work until late each night (like midnight). The next day it started all over again. I feel like I lost a week of my life, especially since I had just gained it back during a restful vacation the previous week.

I was wiped out by the end of the week and beginning to wonder why I take work so seriously, when I don’t get paid more for working more. In fact, I don’t even think my boss knows I work so late, so it’s not like I’m impressing him any. His car is usually gone when I leave– it used to be the other way around. Working beyond 40 hours only gets me more stress, wrinkles and gray hair– why do I punish myself? The work is still there the next day and more will be piled on, guaranteed. I will have to learn how to get over it, right? I never knew being a librarian could be so stressful.

All-star baseball is over for the season. My son did okay, but would have done better if he would have paid more attention to the game and maybe hit the ball more when he was up to bat. His reduced amount of time at-bat was directly related to his performance when he was at the plate, but he didn’t care whether or not he played. He was in it for the goofing off in the dugout, where he likes hanging out with his friends. Fall ball starts up in about a month, so if he wants to play more ball (or goof off in the dugout), another opportunity is on the horizon. He’s the polar opposite of me– he works hard at not working hard. Maybe I need to take life lessons from him…

I had a nice, relaxing weekend after a busy week in Anaheim, California, for the ALA Annual Conference. I was wiped out after flying back overnight Tuesday, zipping through 4 timezones in fifteen hours and arriving in my hometown Wednesday morning– without any sleep. I was so sleepy I was dizzy. I thought connected chairs without armrests in the Atlanta airport looked terribly comfy (they weren’t). I toughed it out Thursday at work, then survived a super-late all-star baseball game that night. Thankfully it ended moments before a thunderstorm would have ended it anyway. I woke up on July 4th after twelve hours of sleep and have slept as much as possible all weekend. It’s nice to feel human again.

The relaxing weekend will soon evaporate, as my son starts yet another all-star baseball tournament, this one at their home field. Games start Monday night and end on Sunday. We have games Monday, Tuesday and Saturday, which determine our position in the actual tournament on Sunday. We have to work concessions and the field this week, since our club is hosting the tournament. I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to write to my blog in the early part of the week– since there’s no wireless Internet connection at the baseball field.

One of the things I missed while I was out of town was the slow pace of a baseball game, even one that’s part of an all-star tournament. I missed sitting in a lawn chair, watching the evening turn to night, bugs flitting around the lights, siblings shouting and playing in nearby dirt piles, cicadas buzzing on and off, and dads coaching from the sidelines. I missed the smell of the grill (even though I’m almost sick of eating grilled food) and the smell of bug repellent (not a great smell, but a fond one for some reason). I cherish the sights, sounds, and smells of summer– my favorite season.

My daughter asked me to let her drive home from her gymnastics practice last night. My first thought was “No way!” but then I realized she’ll never learn to drive if I don’t let her behind the wheel. What good is driver’s ed. if she never gets to practice what she’s learning? She also had learner’s permit with her, so she was about as legal as anyone else on the road. Heck, my own mom is driving around with an expired license, so it’s not like we were doing anything illegal. It just feels so darned weird!

Her gymnastics teammates and their moms were gathered outside the gym talking when we switched roles of driver and passenger. My daughter is 6 inches shorter than I am, so it took her awhile to adjust the seat and mirrors to fit her smaller body. This adjustment period and her fear of backing up gave them plenty of time to crack jokes and feign fear for our lives. I wondered if we’d ever make it home at this rate. The younger gymnasts, who already look up to older gymnasts like my daughter, were watching with awe and fascination as they witnessed this rite of passage.

Before we pulled out of the parking lot, I made absolutely sure there weren’t any cars coming in either direction. I didn’t want to be in an accident the night before I left on a business trip. As we were pulling into the street, my daughter asked which lane to pull into. Eeeek! She really hasn’t been paying attention when we leave the gym every night. Left lane I replied, but not the turn lane. I wondered if she knew what that was yet. I desperately wanted a steering wheel and set of brakes on my side of the car, so I could guide her or stop her if necessary.

On the highway, she asked me how fast she could go. I told her to look at the speed limit sign, which was fast approaching on the right. She looked and veered slightly out of her lane. I sucked in a deep breath and resisted the urge to grab the steering wheel. She corrected on her own and accelerated hard enough that she was soon exceeding the speed limit as we climbed a hill. I gently reminded her to slow down—she was speeding and wasting my $4 a gallon gas. I knew it was a lot for her inexperienced young brain to take in all at once: looking off the road at a sign, staying on the road while doing it, and getting up to but not over the speed limit while climbing hill with another driver on her tail. Who has time to glance down at the speedometer with all that going on?

She’s going to need LOTS of practice, as would any new driver. That’s why it’s called practice. I have to remind myself I was the same inexperienced driver many decades ago. Although she struggled to maintain the speed limit the way an experienced driver would, she spotted an obstacle in the road before I did. There was a large green lump ahead of us in our lane on the expressway. It was an evergreen tree—and it was big enough we needed to go around it—quickly! I told her to check behind her in the lane next to us, then signal to change lanes and if the coast was clear, change lanes fast before we ran over that tree. She handled it with relatively calm finesse and did a great job. She was quite proud of herself—and so was I.

After the tree-in-road incident, she had to navigate construction barrels and reduce her speed while construction workers were pounding and drilling pavement in the next lane. In a few places their barrels pushed into our lane, forcing vehicles slightly off the road. I feared our tires would catch on the pavement’s edge and pull us off the road, making us scrape along the overpass barrier. I think I stopped breathing several times while I envisioned gashes forming along the side of my SUV, but we made it out of the construction zone alive and unscathed.

I know this is one of many practice drives we’ll have, so I’ll just have to find ways to calm myself, believe in her and keep a wary eye out for danger– all at the same time– which is a lot to ask of this experienced old driver’s brain.

Have you ever made a really bad decision, but didn’t realize it at the time? Then later the gravity of your mistake began to sink in and weigh heavy on your conscience? That feeling describes how our family felt last night after having our family portrait taken for our church’s directory.

After we took the pictures, we faced a slick salesman who kept us distracted by talking to us and the kids about their summer activities. Before we knew it, we’d spent over $360 on a package of pictures– money we weren’t planning to spend nor had we even budgeted for this event. The worst part of it is that we didn’t like any of the pictures! Seriously! Not a single one. While we were viewing the computer proofs, we struggled to find poses we all liked. The colors were off, the backgrounds were blah, and somebody was either blinking or half-laughing in almost every one. We really didn’t look like us.

When we went to get ice cream afterwards, we all agreed we spent too much money on something none of us really liked. Even the kids felt like we wasted our money. That’s the good thing about having teenage kids– they are old enough to take part in family decisions (even bad ones) and understand what’s going on most of the time. Strange as it sounds, I felt we were really close as a family while we sat there eating our ice cream and voicing our feelings about the pictures. We were more genuine at that moment than we were in the posed pictures of an hour earlier.

Today I’ll call the studio and see if we can cancel our order. We really don’t want those pictures hanging in our house (yes, they were that bad!).  I don’t want to give them out to family either. In fact, we really want to forget about the whole deal. I hope I can talk my way out of our bad decision and convince the studio we’ll schedule an appointment for a better family portrait sometime in the future.

UPDATE: I called the studio and they cancelled our order. Whew! What a relief! And they didn’t even give me a hard time. When they asked which pose I wanted for our complimentary 8×10, I told them we didn’t even want the free picture– that’s how much we disliked the pictures. I want to totally forget about the whole thing, as though it never happened. I’m so relieved they didn’t make us keep it or switch to another package.

My daughter took her first driver’s ed. class yesterday. Now she’s quizzing me on arcane facts like if I’m travelling at 50 miles per hour, how many feet in advance of a turn do I signal my intent to turn? I guessed 50 feet. (Answer: 300 ft.) Okay– so I flunked. I told her most people don’t signal at all. Heck, most people don’t even look before pulling onto the street. I told her that on my way to pick her up from gymnastics practice that night, some jerk pulled out in front of me, oblivious to the fact that I was an oncoming car. Lucky for both of us, I saw him coming and honked the horn, then had to slam on the breaks when he continued to pull out in front of me. After hearing about my near accident, she said I was practicing defensive driving. Darn right I was! There are fools everywhere, licensed to kill. I’m so scared for her! Letting your child drive has got to be the scariest letting go a parent ever has to do.

When we got home, she showed me her driver’s ed. books and humbly admitted she has a lot to learn. Oh my, does she! I flipped through one of the books and asked her if she recognized any of the street signs. She stared blankly at them. Eeeeek! She does have a lot to learn. Apparently she hasn’t been paying much attention as I drive her around town. How ’bout these I said (I pointed at the construction signs- we have orange barrels everywhere in our city). She smiled as she recognized them– and the lighted arrow signs telling motorists to move away from a lane closed for construction. Okay, maybe she’s paying some attention.

We got her driver’s ed. learner’s permit on Saturday, so she can spend time practicing with the instructors this summer. She’s so proud of the permit– she shows it to most everyone. She wanted to drive home from the grocery store last night, but said she didn’t have it with her. That’s another thing she’ll have to learn– always carry it with you if you’re going to drive. I just hope she doesn’t lose it, like she did her high school ID card last fall when someone stole her wallet during gymnastics practice. At the same gym, another girl’s driver’s ed. permit was stolen, but later returned. What do kids think they’ll do with these IDs when their face and other info doesn’t match the card? Duh! It’s not like they can magically drink or drive with them.