Tuesday, April 5, 2011

The New Crop

We moved to Lubbock during the summer of 1991.  Jonathan turned four that August and Bryce was two.  I spent the majority of the summer "frokin' up," as the boys put it, while my belly swelled with pregnancy.  After spending seven months in a duplex while our house was being built, we moved into our home in the nick of time.  Reed Alexander Lackey was born a short three weeks after we settled onto 84th Street.  The walls were still bare, and there were boxes stacked to the ceiling in the garage.    The pictures of his homecoming show a dirt yard with no trees.  (In West Texas, you have to buy your trees unless you'd prefer to grow cotton in the front yard.)

During this season of the little men, there were about 11 boys on our block ranging in age from infancy to upper elementary.  Over the 19 years that we've lived in this house, the natural attrition brought on by moving away or growing up slowly cleared our street of children.  No more block parties with Easter Egg Hunts.  No more front yard football games.  Nowadays, I don't know many of the trick-or-treaters who come ringing my doorbell grinning from ear to ear.  This year for the first time, I had no offers to buy Boy Scout Popcorn or Girl Scout Cookies.  Sitting in the front yard in the cool of a summer evening is more peaceful, indeed.  Too peaceful.  I crave the parade of bikes with training wheels and barrage of wildly flung frisbees.  I haven't heard anyone yell "headache" signaling the meteoric fall of a baseball in years.

I had begun to accept the fact that we had become a street of "the old ones" - empty nesters with readers propped on the tips of our noses who discuss health care and cooking for two.  Then, a breath of fresh air breezed down the block as new, young families slowly began to migrate to our section of 84th Street.  The population of children is on the rise.  Our newest neighbors have three precious little girls who wear bows in their hair and matching Sunday dresses.  When I first met them, I almost felt like crying.  I wanted to scoop the girls into my arms and ask them what took them so long to get here.  

A few days ago, I told Alan that the time has come for us to pass this house on to a young family with children.  That's what the house was built for.  One room was measured out to specifically house a set of red metal bunk beds.  Another is small - the size of a  cozy nursery.  Then, there's the "visiting grandparent" bedroom that was placed across the house away from the ruckus that little boys can generate.  Three lonely guest rooms do not fulfill the purpose of a house that was built for action and noise and three little superheros.  Alan didn't go with the whole "time to move on" theory.  He's still working on the "educate the 3 sons" project. 

Welcome to the new crop of 84th Street children!  I am so happy that you are here.  And, I hope that you love to eat cupcakes as much as I love making them. 


Anabeth said...

i do sympathize with Alan on the whole "education three sons" thing. time to move one....just not yet.


Carolyn Lackey said...

Go, Jonathan, go! {;-)


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