A New Moon

Cole is one week away from move-in day. Next Sunday we'll drive to our beloved Iowa City to unload his college gear at Hillcrest Dormitory–my old dorm and his big sister's old dorm. Is he ready? Are we ready?

I've noticed a certain maturity in Cole lately. Things like doing laundry without me prompting him, even if he mixes reds with whites. Or getting a replacement license on his own after losing his wallet. (We found this out after his new license came in the mail. In all fairness, he's had plenty of practice at replacing lost ones.) Or, reading books on his own. Sure, it's the Twilight series, but hey, it's reading.

We've somehow managed to celebrate the end of this era. It's almost like the high school graduation season that would never end. Since May there's been a virtual graduation ceremony, a live, socially-distanced ceremony, grad parties with lots of hand sanitizer, an impromptu prom, a last hurrah vacation with some fatherly mooning amidst a beautiful South Dakota backdrop, and a senior soccer sendoff allowing mothers to sport their cool soccer gear at least one more time while watching the boys battle it out with their buds on the field. Despite the pandemic, every single event has been a wonderful tribute to the kids we raised and the friendships they've cultivated.

There's not a parent who doesn't feel a gaping hole when they send their kids out into the world. I still feel that hole with our 23-year-old. But that hole is peppered with excitement about the future. Yes, there's a lot of yuck in the world right now. But I can't help but feel hopeful for our kids. They still see a giant, blank slate in front of them. If anything positive can be taken from this past year, perhaps it's the space and time that came from the screeching halt of activities. I know we all yearn for those activities. But perhaps it allowed some of our kids to do a bit of window gazing and deep thinking, when they weren't playing Clash Royale, of course.

Cole wants to start packing today.  He's also been having some very serious thoughts about the career he wants to pursue. A good sign. He's starting to truly think ahead! But he also wants to watch New Moon with me. Also a good sign. He's still living out some of his tween fantasies. You can't grow up all at once. You shouldn't grow up all at once. Or maybe ever. Perhaps we should all relive our tween fantasies once in a while. That would mean Charlie's Angels for me.

I completely expect to become immersed in nostalgia as soon as we walk through the doors of Cole's new digs and I smell the same weird, stale odor that greeted me in 1987. I clearly remember the blank slate before me. It was exciting, but terrifying. No matter what's happening in the world right now, I know it will be the same for our kids just starting out: a wonderfully, scary time. But more wonderful than scary.

So, ready or not... here we all go.

A Quick Story of Hope

When I was a senior in high school, there was a particular piano contest I wanted to win. Desperately. I had competed in the contest every year since junior high, but couldn't seem to clinch the title no matter how hard I practiced. 

So that day, as I sat with my mother in the auditorium, listening to my competition, I felt my anxiety rising like a flash flood. It was my last chance. And the competition was good. Darn good. Sara Markussen was the main threat. She had won several times. I was feeling less and less optimistic about my chances.

Just before I went to perform, my mother, in all her maternal hyper-awareness, turned to me and said, "Take a deep breath. And envision yourself on Broadway entertaining the audience. Don't think about the contest. Just perform. Enjoy yourself."

Of course! I knew my pieces well. I loved-loved-loved playing Mozart. I don't know if it was the words she spoke, her calm demeanor, or her unwavering belief of my ability. But it did the trick. My anxiety was immediately replaced by a mega-dose of confidence. 

I won. The judge recruited me to attend Drake where he taught music. I played those same contest pieces for the University of Iowa and received a piano scholarship. All of this fortune befell me because someone believed in me. And didn't fail to tell me me. Thanks, Mom.

I mentor for the Teammates program and a recent newsletter emphasized the importance of hope. The founder of this organization, Coach Tom Osborn once said,

"We find that when a child is made aware of his strengths and thinks about how those strengths can be utilized, the future often appears brighter and possibilities open up which at one time appeared to be beyond reach. Hope is a powerful thing."

It's natural to be a cheerleader for kids. But sometimes, I think, we get caught up on the missteps of our children – especially as parents. How many of you have had conversations with your kid about the B in geometry without mentioning the A in science? How many of you immediately forget the hard work your kid showed on the field when you walk into his or her filthy bedroom smelling of ass, BO, and Burger King? Yeah. Me too.

As we venture into the summer season filled with camps, internships, the ACT, and mowing, I'm challenging myself. Forget the planning and logistics for a second. Show more patience. And most of all, pour hope onto the kids! Any kid! It might take a total of two minutes each day. But, hopefully, the impact will last a lifetime.

Dream big and fly high Kramer kids.

Perspectives a Fortune Cookie Teller

Three months ago, I received a fortune cookie that said, 

“Remember three months from this date. Good things are in store for you.”

Like any rational person, I put a note on my Outlook Calendar, marking the date. Imagine my delight when I saw my note on Tuesday! Something big was going to happen. Had I purchased a lottery ticket I had forgotten? Or registered to win a trip that didn't require an investment in a timeshare? Or maybe, just maybe, I had finally gotten that big book deal from Random House. I won't lie. I was like a kid on Christmas Eve. I only had a four-hour board meeting to get through. No problem! Good things were in store.

Once I got home, I checked my email. Dick’s Sporting Goods was having a 40% off sale. Good news, but not great. I kept scrolling, but didn't find any message indicating a book deal or contest winnings. Not to worry. The night wasn't over!

I'll cut to the chase to avoid suspense. I went to bed, wondering if my Chinese fortune cookie had been defective. All week I wondered. As a matter of fact, the more I thought about it, the more I realized how HAPLESS the last few days had been.

• Got a nail in my car on the way to meet an author I admire! Missed the entire event.
• Had a random beer bottle thrown at me. Seriously. It shattered before my feet.
• Gained a pound.
• My son got yanked from his position in football.
• Okay. Actually I gained two pounds.

I reread the fortune. (I keep a stack of them.)

"Good things are in store for you."

I put it away with a sigh.

But I didn't put it out of my head.

Had I overlooked anything this week? 

Any good things? 

YES! YES I HAD!

• Daughter surprised us by coming home from college to round out a fantastic Kramfam weekend in which we devoured a crazy delicious pizza in Panora. Worth the two extra pounds of muffin-top.
• Aforementioned daughter also called me twice this week to chat about life plans instead of a physical ailment she self-diagnosed on Web MD.
• Sat by good friend at Mass this week. Cheered my heart.
• The beer bottle MISSED my face. No one was maimed. How great is that?
• Received an email from an old college friend telling me how she loved my book and has been recommending it to others. (Better than a book deal! Almost.)
• Ran into another good friend whom informed me that her hubby had just survived a serious bout of WEST NILE! He is better now. Thank goodness!
• Harvest! Doug opened up the fields! And we've gone five days without rain! (Did I just jinx it?)
• And the coolest thing about this week? A text. Received from my son, after I sent him some encouragement. Here's the dialogue.

I got a pretty good life anyway so I'm good. :) 

A pretty good life fo sho. My kids are great. My hubby is happy. Our parents are healthy. We have great friends. And we can have pizza pretty much anytime we want.

Fortune cookie was spot on.