Little surprises; or, Found: body parts

Our little slice of Caribbean paradise has been anything but the last couple of weeks. It's been very dreary, overcast, with scattered rain showers (and a violent thunderstorm thrown in for good measure). The heavy clouds keep it nice and oppressively sticky-humid. The dampness keeps the swarms of biting gnats happy. Not the most auspicious start to a summer vacation break, but with this weather, it does force one to resort to indoor diversions.

Clouds near my house. Also a guard tower near my house (that's a US one).

And that is how I have already started that manic cleaning spree that always accompanies summer break. Teachers are the worst about putting off all year what we can accomplish in a summer. For me, this means cleaning out closets, drawers, the car, and much, much more.

So far, I've cleaned out Son 2's room (The junk toys---dear god, do I really feed my child this many Happy Meals?? Why do we own 1,000,001 Legos?) and my fridge is so clean, you could eat right off the shelves. Not that you'd want to. . .

I am also cleaning through old purses to eventually give away and found the following: lots of HEBuddy Bucks (you Texas people know what I'm talking 'bout), several dollars in loose change and some real dollars; a change purse full of Euros; and in the bottom of my now clean closet, I found my favorite hat from Mexico I haven't seen in over a year (nope, it's not a sombrero).

I also found here and there a total of three baby teeth. I'm assuming they belong to Boy 2 since he's lost several while we've lived here. During preparations for the Cuba move, I found a plastic Easter egg that rattled when I picked it up. Inside were lots of baby teeth---my dog's baby teeth.

Those would be Lacey's baby teeth. She was the dog I got in grad school, because working 3 part time jobs, taking a full course load, dealing with a big breakup, and worrying about paying bills weren't stressful enough events, I decided to get a puppy and housebreak it. (As my former colleague Len used to always say, "Go Big or Go Home"). I loved that crazy, neurotic dog (and yesterday, I found her dog collar while cleaning out a closet).

I have no idea where Boy 1's baby teeth are. What kind of mother keeps her puppy dog's baby teeth, but can't find her human child's baby teeth?

And that's my biggest downfall as a mom, probably---I'm horrible at keeping up with those baby mementos.

HOWEVER, in another cleaning frenzy (this time, finally getting through those last few unpacked boxes in the garage), I did find an envelope containing evidence of Boy 1's first haircut. I don't remember when or where (and of course, didn't write it down), but I was happy to find the only definitive proof that yes, he was once a blonde.

During The Great Summer Cleaning Extravaganza, I also found something priceless: a thumb drive with photos of Son 2's first 3 years.

We had a computer crash with most of his baby pictures---sadly, the only copy of several---and again, since I'm not the best at keeping baby mementos, I haven't bothered to get prints of most of his digital photos. He is the typical second child----not many professional baby portraits, no huge baby albums, and I really can't tell you when he started crawling or much else about that first year blur of his life.

But I am not apologizing for my lack of fancy scrapbooks (because, seriously, as grown men they could care less about such), lost baby teeth, or lack of professional baby photographs. I didn't finish either baby book, and I have no idea when they accomplished the big baby milestones. Please don't think I feel much Mama Guilt for my lack of sentimentality. I do look back on their baby years with great fondness; I just don't see a point of keeping tons of baby clothes, baby toys, and parts of their bodies (like hair and teeth) sitting around the house. I don't think it really matters anymore when they first sat up or turned over (that would be Boy 2's first day at home) or walked or talked. What I do remember is the excitement and sadness that came when we realized that each precious little baby was growing up---and much too quickly.

I went through the motions twice in my life to be a stay-at-home mom, but it never worked out. The first time, I didn't even miss a paycheck. I quit teaching in June and kind of fell into another job unexpectedly on Sept 11 (yes, THAT Sept 11). The second time, I quit in June, took off a summer and most of a fall to go to library school full time, and ended up working by December. I couldn't turn down what was presented to me as what may be my only chance to get a job in a district I really liked, so there it is. I did technically go four months without a paycheck, so I guess that does count. But for most of my life, I guess I've been destined to be a working mom. The fact I've been lucky enough to work around my kids the last 2 years has been a blessing---I had a few reservations about it before I got here, but honestly, I love seeing the kids during the day. And you can't do that unless you are working where you kids are going to school.

I doubt that several years from now, once the boys have started adulthood and (hopefully) moved out, I will miss the little school projects and toys and other things I have managed to get rid of this last week. I saw so many things today I had no recollection of ever seeing, I am certain I will forget almost all that made it to the garbage today. For right now, I am happy hanging on to the little bit I have stored away. And in case you think I lack the right amount of sentimentality---I did get the best feeling today when I found an at least 20 year- old birthday card that was simply signed, "I love you, Granny."

Some things I will never throw out.

Rain, rain, go away. . .