Grandparents Day

Since I didn't grow up celebrating Grandparent's Day, I wondered when it first became official. National Grandparents Day was created in 1978 by a federal proclamation, passed by Congress and signed by President Jimmy Carter. According to the National Grandparents Day Council, Grandparents Day has a threefold purpose:

-To honor grandparents
-To give grandparents an opportunity to show love for their children’s children.
-To help children become aware of the strength, information and guidance older people can offer.

I also found out that there is an official song for Grandparent's Day:

"A SONG FOR GRANDMA AND GRANDPA"
by Johnny Prill


Chorus:
Oh Grandma, Grandpa, you know that I love you
I love all those little things that you say and do
A walk through the park, a trip to the zoo
Oh Grandma, Grandpa I love you

Verse One:
Going to a ball game, fishing on the lake
Eating Grandma’s cookies, boy they sure taste great
Going to the circus when it comes to town
Eating cotton candy and laughing at the clowns

Chorus:
Oh Grandma, Grandpa, you know that I love you
I love all those little things that you say and do
A hug and a kiss, a ride home from school
Oh Grandma, Grandpa I love you

Verse Two:
Spending time together, talking on the phone
Happy birthday presents, chocolate ice cream cones
Photographs and memories, picnics and parades
Saying that you love me in so many ways

Chorus:
Oh Grandma, Grandpa, you know that I love you
I love all those little things that you say and do
The stories you tell, things I never knew
Oh Grandma, Grandpa I love you
Oh Grandma, Grandpa I love you – I love you – I love you

So Happy Grandparents' Day!!!

Sarabeth

It's hard to believe you're a senior in high school. It won't be long before you pack up your treasures and are off to college.






When others played in the sprinkler, you were happy in a bucket of water. I am proud of you for staying true to your convictions, for not going along with the crowd. March to the beat of the drum you hear-as you’ve always done. Dance to the music played for you. Know that I'm always here for you, but trust God above all else.

I had an encounter yesterday.

I had the privilege of meeting a lovely lady IRL (in real life) from blogland. Those of you who read her blog will be envious. Mopsy from Lifenut invited me to a unique little coffee & tea shop. For many, Mopsy has achieved near celebrity status in blogland. She is an excellent writer, clever, witty-if you haven't read her blog, check it out.

I took my camera to get a photo of the two of us together, but was too busy chatting & being entertained by her 3 youngest children to remember. Her boys were very charming while they ate their chocolate donuts and chocolate milk. (Who wouldn't be charming with that much chocolate?) Beatrix was a doll!

Mopsy is just as pretty in person as she is in photos. She has shared so much of herself via her blog, it was as if I met up with an old friend. Thanks Mopsy for the coffee and a lovely morning.

Wednesday
I wanted to post a wordless wednesday, but I couldn't do it.

Ethan is a smart boy! He loves to ride in my car, but knows he needs his booster seat. He snuck into the garage. I went to find him and he was already in the car. Do you think he wants to drive???

Signs Your Teen Is Text Messaging Too Much

Hilary is social. She likes to talk. She talks in her sleep. Now that she has a cell phone and unlimited text messages, most of her chatting is done via her thumbs. (Okay, the whole family has unlimited text messaging. And yes, this the preferred method of calling my family to dinner.)

I should have known when her fancy little phone never left her fingers that she was probably text messaging too much. (Or when she dropped it in the toilet.)

The second clue should have been when I overheard this conversation:

"So how many text messages have you sent this month?"

"Oh, like maybe 500."

"Maybe? Just check."

"Ok, I have used 497. What about you?"

"3011."

Did she really say 3000? This month isn't over yet. She has over a week to break this record.

The other night we got into a discussion about embarrassing moments. We all agreed that sending a text message to the wrong person was the worst. Sarabeth had plenty of these faux pas-when she sent me a text message saying, "guess who El is having lunch with? Josh." She then promptly sent it to Elisabeth instead of me. Hilary couldn't recall having one of those moments.

The next morning she comes upstairs carrying her phone looking puzzled. "I had a very strange message on my phone when I woke up. All it said was, 'what?' I figured I must have sent someone the wrong message. So I checked."

Apparently, she received a text message after she'd fallen asleep. It stirred her enough that she picked up her phone and sent one back-without ever waking up! My daughter can now say she has officially text messaged in her sleep. I wouldn't recommend it. Although she did text two real words, the rest was in indiscernible dream language.

I think it may be time to cut back on text messaging. It's one thing to talk in your sleep, only your family hears, but when she starts talking text message for the world to hear...who knows what she might say? And really, who's going to believe the excuse that she didn't know what she was doing?

Wordless Wednesday

I'm Not From The South

I was making dinner the other night when Sarabeth came in and asked, "what are we having for dinner?"

My response, "Fried Chicken." She turned and looked at me quizzically.

"What is fried chicken?"

Are my kids deprived?

Job

No, I didn't go out and get a job. I have been reading the book of Job. Have you read this book in the bible? The poor man lost his family, his house, his livelihood-basically everything. Afterwards, his body broke out in sores from head to foot. Can you imagine the pain of raw open wounds? I've had bad days, but not this devastating.

But isn't it interesting that what started Job's troubles is God bragging about him? Am I living my life in such a way that my heavenly Father stands in heaven boasting of my integrity? Could that last difficult trial have been His way of showing me off? And yet my response was not what He had hoped. I endured, maybe complained. I allowed myself to become stressed out, forgetting God's sovereignty. Of course had I known that my trial was just to prove how much integrity I had, I'd have performed better. Ah, but this is where it gets sticky. That trial did indeed show what I was made of, how much integrity I really did have (or didn't.)

A trial is a good thing. It is a guage that shows me what my relationship looks like. I can see clearly whether or not I really trust God or whether I just think I do.

Whew! I've got a long way to go.

First Day Back-to-School

(Wordless Wednesday)

P.S. I hope to be back to regular blogging next week. School starts on Wednesday.

Another Tearful Phone Call

Elisabeth was on campus this morning to finish her paperwork for her fall semester. She didn't really want to be there. She's been struggling with a back injury and the treatments are painful. The doctor says this is normal and the injections will cause more pain before it feels better. But today was the final day to finish up the paperwork.

So the phone call goes something like this:

"What are you doing, Mom?"

"Just emptying the dishwasher, what about you?"

"Yeah, I finished up my paperwork." I can tell her voice sounds funny.

"Great! Where are you? Are you still at school?"

Her voice cracks.

"Yes....(pause)...they won't let us leave. I don't know what is happening." At this point, I can tell she is starting to cry.

"What is going on?"

"They say we are on lockdown and I can't go to my car. My back hurts real bad and I just don't know what is going on."

I do my best to console her not really sure what is going on. I hang up the phone and turn the on the t.v. A report of the lockdown is on the screen.

Police were chasing armed robbery suspects. A crash occured near the campus and the armed suspects fled on foot. The campus was locked down as police continue to search for the suspects. I text message my daughter to let her know what is going on, I know she is too teary to talk. And now we wait. This isn't the same world as when I was growing up.

Chalk Drawings

Sarabeth, Hilary, and I spent last weekend making chalk drawings for Ethan. Spiderman was his favorite.

Dumb

Boy do I feel dumb!

I recently emailed the editor of a local T.V. news program. I also view their news website. In the past few months, I'd noticed a lot of editing errors. For example:





A Muder Suspect Was Apprehended





Crocs to agrees to buy Bite Footwear





Another news headline had Israel spelled "Isreal"





I received a reply to my email that it was being sent to the "proper People." Those proper ones must have laughed their heads off when they read my complaint. I hadn't bothered to proofread before so smugly sending it. There before me were 2 glaring typos. Hmmm...pride goes before a fall.

Award

Blogger Reflection Award: this award should make an individual reflect upon five bloggers who have been an encouragement, a source of love, impacted you in some way, and who have provided a Godly example. In other words, five dear bloggers whom, when you reflect upon them, you are filled with a sense of pride and joy. . .of knowing them and being blessed by them.

Lori, at View From Our Porch Swing posted this on her blog after being nominated. She went on to give me this award with these encouraging words: Joanne is a beautiful faithfilled woman. She's very intelligent and carries a very tender heart. She has 5 beautiful children and has been blessed with a beautiful grandchild. Hearing about her wonderful family puts a smile on my face. She's truly an inspiration to me. I am so honored to have the opportunity to choose you, Joanne, for this wonderful award.

I don't know what to say. I felt blessed, honored, and humbled. I'd like to share the same encouragement with 5 fellow bloggers. Before I do, I'd like to say Lori is a lovely lady. Please visit her blog if you haven't already. She is such an inspiration!

Here are my 5 choices: Heth @ From Under The Laundry Pile. Heather is a young mom of 7 little clothes wearers. She was one of the first people to comment on my blog. Her sweet comments on every one of my posts encouraged me to keep blogging. As busy as I know she must be, her posts reflect grace and a love for her family. Some of my favorite posts are the way she tenderly describes her growing up years, especially the faith of her father. Heather knows how to have fun and create laughter within her home. I was very blessed to meet Heather online AND in real life.

"We were filled with laughter,and we sang for joy. And the other nations said, 'What amazing things the Lord has done for them." Psalm 126:2
Carolanne @ C Outside The Box. Carolanne lives in Australia. She wears her heart on her sleeve, and shares it generously. Not only does she share online, but with her students. Carolanne is a teacher. She doesn't teach with words alone, although she expresses herself wonderfully through words. Others learn about love & faith through her actions. Carolanne is one you can trust to be open and honest. She is a trusted friend. Oh, and she's also a great photographer.

"My soul will be satisfied as with the richest of foods; with singing lips my mouth will praise you." (Psalm 63:5)
Mopsy @ Lifenut. Mopsy is another young mom with lots of children. Mopsy is a deep thinker. She motivates me to dig a little deeper. She's walked through a few valleys and mountaintops, but her faith shines brightly at all times. As we walk through this life, we encounter bruising. Mopsy displays her bruises courageously-which makes her so very approachable.
She is a great mom to her children, creating wonderful memories for them.

"Her husband can trust her, and she will greatly enrich his life." Proverbs 31:11

Singing Owl @ The Owl's Song This lovely lady is not afraid to step out and be bold. (How else could she maintain her position as a pastor?) She tackles difficult subjects with grace and speaks the truth in love. Her newest title is grandma. Her granddaughter has increased her life with more love and nurturing. Singing Owl is filled with joy and shares it with others.

"Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in Thy sight, O LORD, my Strength and my Redeemer." Psalm 19:14

Anne of Cooking With Anne & The Rest Of Me. Anne is the mom of 7 and is a wonderful chef who shares her expertise with all. She prepares delicious meals for her family (a woman after my own heart!) She inspires me to experiment more in my own cooking and introduces me to things I've never heard of. She has a gift for hospitality and giving. I think her gentleness and kindness came from her dad, that she so lovingly speaks of and who went to be with the Lord last year.

"In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths." Proverbs 3:6

Can I really only pick 5???? This leaves out so very many bloggers that regularly encourage me. I wanted to list a whole lot of them, but I'm afraid I might miss someone and leave them out and I would hate to hurt anyone's feelings. I will try and update my blog link and add those who aren't already there. I'm looking forward to seeing who these ladies pass encouragement on to (and no, you don't have to add a scripture, that is just something I chose to do.)

And of course, if I could have chosen Lori I would have. And I'd post this verse for her. "But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." Joshua 24:15

Sights & Sounds

Sights & Sounds Sunday

Paper plates & colored markers are so much fun.

Thanks Mom & Dad!

Thanks Mom & Dad!

For Pom Practice, we carpool with another girl. The other day, Hilary related how unpleasant the drive home was. The other girl, I'll call her Hannah, has her permit. Her mother decided to let her drive home. Apparently, as she merged onto the highway, Hannah cut another car off nearly causing an accident. For the rest of the drive, the mother berated her daughter for her foolishness. Hilary said, "mom, it was so awkward! Poor Hannah was trying to drive but she was crying so hard. Why would her mom do that?"

In my mind, I can hardly imagine what the mother was thinking. Couldn't she have waited until they got home? If the near miss scared her, why wasn't she concerned about distracting her daughter's driving with her non-stop criticism? Did she think her daughter would be more focused through sobs and tears?

I am not a perfect parent. My parents were not perfect parents. But I am thankful, that it was not their habit of berating us for mistakes or wrong doings. In a tense or stressful situation we will often revert back to our early training and parent accordingly.

When something awful happens, I am not tempted to swear. I am always surprised when I hear foul language spewing forth from an otherwise "normal" parent. Once again, I have my own parents to thank. It certainly isn't anything within myself. It's just that my parents didn't swear when they were angry or upset. Consequently, when autopilot kicks in during a difficult moment, 4 letter words do not spill out.

I just hope that somehow I have provided good habits and examples for my own children. And with that hope, comes the belief that my grandchildren will benefit. Afterall, my children have enjoyed the benefit that came from having grandparents who parented with integrity, kindness, and love. Thanks Mom & Dad!

PBJ

When you hear PBJ what comes to mind? Two slices of soft Wonder Bread with grape jelly on one side and creamy peanut butter on the other? Firmer whole wheat brown bread with peach preserves and chunky PB? My husband skips the jelly and goes for banana and honey instead. He's taught the kids to like his PBH's. How many PBJ's have you eaten in a lifetime?

I didn't grow up eating PBJ's. In fact, I had my very first one when I was 28 years old. Yes, you read that right. I was nearly 30 before my teeth sunk into two slices of bread with slathers of salty peanut butter & sweet, gooey, grape jelly sandwiched in between. I would have stopped after the first bite, but was having lunch with a friend. What kind of an example would I have set if I had refused to eat what I'd been served? So I did what I would have expected my children to do, I politely ate my peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Don't get me wrong, I love peanut butter. But who in their right mind would ruin it by adding brightly colored jam or jelly? I want to say that I like my peanut butter good and salty-crunchy too. But that isn't totally true. I wonder what a PBJ would taste like if it wasn't jelly on the sandwich but a good squeeze of Hershey's chocolate atop the Peanut Butter.

MMmmmm....maybe I could learn to love this new version of PBJ's.

Cute

Five Things I Must Remember

1) Never think or believe I am more than one person. I am not. I cannot do the job of 20 people.

2) Just because a family member won't be home for 10 hours and out-of-town guests are gone for the day, I don't have time to paint and redecorate a bedroom. This is NOT While You Were Out or Extreme Makeover:Home Edition. Ty Pennington's entourage is not outside in a trailer with experienced designers & big, brawny men to do the work.

3) It is never a good idea to shake a gallon of paint. I've seen the shaking machines at the hardware store in action. No matter how much I dance and jump around, I cannot replicate this. That is why the nice gentleman handed me those wooden stirring sticks.

4) It doesn't matter how tightly the lid appears to be on the can of paint. If it slips from my hands and falls to the floor, the lid will magically pop off. Yes, paint cans do explode on impact.

5) No matter how well I believe I have covered the carpet and furniture before painting,it isn't enough. That two inches of brand new bedspread hanging below the plastic? The area of carpet in the middle of the room that is safe from wall drips? These things are magnets for flying paint.

P.S. Happy 23rd Birthday Christopher! I didn't forget about you while I was desperately trying to redo Sarabeth's bedroom (for her 18th birthday, that was in June.) I really did send you a card overnight express, I'm sorry it didn't arrive.

Choices

Quiet here, at least for the moment. I've enjoyed a glorious week with all 5 of my children home, plus my grandson Ethan. I'm happiest when my house is full and running over. To add to the mix, Michael's sister is visiting with her husband and 2 children. I'd forgotten, though, that in trying to accomodate a bunch, that sometimes means having to make difficult choices.

Not knowing how many would be here for dinner, both ovens were fired up and baking away. It would be an eat and run dinner, as we were to watch Hilary's dance performance at 7:00. She was leaving early Friday morning for Pom Camp where they hoped to qualify for Nationals. The girls have worked hard. Practicing 2-3 hours, 5 days a week and spending their Saturdays on fund raisers, it was finally time to show off all they'd accomplished. Hilary was excited to share it with us.

Just before we sat down to eat, Christina comes running into the house with Ethan. "MOM! Ethan was caught in a swarm of bees!" She'd found one sting on his wrist so she ran it under cold water while I found the Benadryl gel. After a few minutes, Ethan began to look like one of those cartoon characters with the distorted faces. His lips were swelling, his chin was twice its normal size-on one side of his face. It was a bit scary to look at him. This time I grabbed the liquid benadryl and forced down the proper dosage, while Christina prepared to whisk him off to the emergency room. I held him in my arms wanting so badly to make things all better for him.

But what about Hilary? I couldn't miss her performance. How does a mom/grandma be in 2 places at once? I had to allow Ethan's grandpa to fill in for me, while I stayed home and served dinner.

I noticed Elisabeth was a bit down. I asked her if she was going with us, but she said no. She'd made other plans because no one told her about the dance. I argued with her for a few moments about changing her plans, when I realized she was having a crisis of her own. I wanted to stay and talk to her about it, but ended up leaving.

As I drove, I found myself tearing up. I prayed for Ethan and hoped his throat was not closing up and he was breathing ok. I prayed for Elisabeth and the situation she was struggling through. I arrived at the school feeling very undone. I wanted to feel excitement for Hilary, but it wasn't easy with so much on my heart and mind.

I'm sure there are plenty of people who would tell me that is one reason NOT to have lots of kids, that I can't possibly be there for all of them. For a second I would feel guilty. I do want to be there for them. But in the end, I know I can't. That is when each of them will have to rely not on their mom or dad, but on their Heavenly Father to be with them. I know I can stand on this reassurance, but as a mom, I still want to be there for them.

Happy 4th

Happy 4th of July!

It has been terribly busy. My kids are all here, as well as Ethan some cousins, siblings and such. Here are a couple of pics of Ethan and my niece.

Text Messaging

Text messaging is the preferred communication of choice at the puzzle home. Each member possesses a cell phone. We've enjoyed competing in text message competitions, checking to see who has sent the most text messages in a month and other text sporting events. (I can't recall for sure, but I believe the winner of the most text messages in a month was around 3000.) I wish I hadn't deleted the 90 or so I had saved on my phone yesterday. But I will share a few tidbits from this week.

A few I received today:

10:08a.m. "Ethan just threw up at the eye doctor's office." Christina (Wish I hadn't been eating my breakfast.
11:17a.m. "It came out of no where. He seems ok now." Christina (Nice to hear.)
11:55a.m. "ok, he just threw up again." Christina (This might fall into the too much information category.)
12:04p.m. "Too bad we are out." (meaning not at home) Christina

I came home from shopping on Wednesday and Sarabeth asks me if I got her text. I checked my phone. Nope, I didn't get one. "Oh no, I sent you a message asking you if you knew that Elisabeth went out to lunch with Josh? Remember Josh? Oh no, I think I might have sent it to Elisabeth." She checks her phone. Sure enough. The message intended to dish out the dirt on Elisabeth was actually sent to Elisabeth. She responded back, "yes, I do know I am having lunch with Josh today." Text messaging can be so tricky.

Ethan

A Father's Day

"Mom, what is Father's Day?" Five year old Jacob asked.

"Oh you know, it is a day to honor fathers, the same as mother's day. Remember the nice card you made me? We bought grandma flowers and a book and spent the day with her. Then we went to dinner at that nice salad place. On Father's Day we'll have a cookout at Grandpa's house. Your grandpa loves cookouts."

"Isn't there a kids' day where we get presents and cards and get to do what we want?"

"Every day is kids day," Jenny answered, as she tossled his blond curls. "Now go brush your teeth or I'm going to be late for work." She smiled as she watched her little boy flex his superman muscles, then run to brush his superhero teeth.

As they drove towards Jacob's daycare center, Jenny was thinking about taking off early so she could take her car in for an oil change. She really needed to keep her car in good running condition.

"Mom, why don't I have a dad?" Jacob's question caught her off guard. While she desperately tried to come up with a reasonable answer, he continued. "I was supposed to bring a picture of my dad to school today. But I don't have a picture because I don't have a dad. I told Miss Sarah that but she just said, don't be silly. Everyone has a dad, even if he doesn't live with you.' Mom, do I have a dad that doesn't live with me? Or is it just you and me?"

Jenny's eyes began to sting as they filled with tears. She had a busy day ahead of her. She needed to concentrate on the traffic around her. She wanted to forget her past. She did not want her little boy to be sad. She didn't want him to be embarrassed at not having a dad. Fumbling for a tissue with one hand in her purse, she glanced in her rearview mirror. Jacob's brown eyes looked up at hers as he waited for a response.

STUCK

I HOPE TO BE BACK LATER TO POST, BUT FIRST I HAVE TO CLEAN THE JUICE FROM MY KEYBOARD THAT IS CAUSING MY SHIFT KEY TO STICK. DID YOU NOTICE?

Short Update

Sarabeth is laughing now. She was officially hired yesterday and starts work tomorrow. Christina and Ethan are fine. The man that lives next door was allegedly threatening violence, so the police stepped in and took control of the situation. This afternoon they are driving up so Ethan will see the new toy I bought him. (It's my privilege as Gramma to have new things for him everytime he comes to visit.)

Lastly, we celebrated Grandpa's 84th birthday yesterday. He received his first digital camera. I'm thinking it is time for him to start a blog of his own to keep everyone up-to-date on life in Colorado. Afterall, who better to capture the essence of moving to a new state and community?

Happy Birthday to my dear dad-in-law. It's been so great having you live so close-I understand my husband so much better and why he does the things he does. (At least where he learned them from.)

Phone Call

Another Phone Call You Don't Want To Get

A few minutes ago, I received a phone call from my daughter's apartment manager. After identifying herself she asked,

"Does your daughter have a cell phone number? The police are here and there is an incident. She needs to vacate the apartment immediately."

Why don't I have these numbers memorized??? With cell phones and the latest technology there just doesn't seem to be a reason to remember phone numbers, especially multiple numbers for one person.

But I am thankful for several things:

1. That in spite of the obstacles, Christina started a 4 week-long class this past Monday. So she wasn't at home.

2. Ethan's CNA who is scheduled to care for him had an emergency trip out of town. So she wan't there either.

3. Christina chose not to have a substitute CNA care for Ethan today. Instead, he went to his former caregiver's home. Ethan did not have to be escorted out of the apartment by the police surrounded by strangers in a scary situation.

4. That God knows what each day holds, and makes provision for us.

Nervous

Sarabeth went for her very first job interview ever. I was impressed with how well she did. She was comfortable enough to joke with the interviewer. If you've known Sarabeth for any length of time, you would be very impressed too. For those who don't know, she was affectionately known as the velcro baby. (Never wanting to leave my side and disliked strangers-that included everyone but me. )

During the interview Sarabeth was given a list of requirements. She found them a bit amusing. "Do you really have to tell some people that it is necessary to wear deodorant?" She queried, wanting to laugh out loud.

She came home gleeful, with her second interview this past Monday. It was more of a formality, at least we hope. Prior to her going to this second interview, we'd been talking about what her new job would be like. Her dad mentioned that it is not a far drive and she could easily make it in 15 minutes. Apparently she took that to heart and left for the interview 20 minutes til, but ran into traffic. She ended up 5 minutes late.

She was asked a few questions by a stoic man and given paperwork to be drug tested. One of the questions he asked was, "Are you normally a late person?"

Her response was "no." She isn't. She arrived a half an hour early for her first interview. His next question was, "have you ever had a detention?" I know she was nervous. She is also a stickler for following rules-honesty being one of them. Her response was "yes." His eyebrow raised as he looked up.

"And what did you receive a detention for?"

"Tardies."

Afterwards she wanted to scream. She thought she looked like she'd been dishonest. The truth is, she DID receive a detention for having 3 tardies. It was in the EIGHTH grade. Her school is strict about tardies. But for the past 3 years she has completed 6 classes per day, 5 days a week, without ever getting 3 tardies again. Of course, the stoic man did not know this. All he heard was she'd had a detention for her tardiness, even though she said she was an on time person. And he knew she was 5 minutes late for their appointment.

Someday she will laugh about this.

National Child's Day

National Child's Day

Last year on June 1st, President George W. Bush gave a proclamation 8026: "I, do hereby proclaim June 4th as National Child's Day. I call upon citizens to observe this day with appropriate ceremonies and activities. I also urge all the people of the United States to take an active role in helping nurture the minds and character of our nation's children."

Even if you missed this, like I did, I think we should make up for it. Let's celebrate all month. It doesn't matter if your child is a day old or 50. Celebrate each one of them. Can you think of a better occasion to have chocolate..., err... a party?

Questions

The Woman tagged me a few weeks ago with this meme. She was given 5 random questions and to play along she assigned 5 new questions. (She chose HARD questions, lol.) At the end I will pick 5 new questions and anyone that wants to play along can use those questions.

1. Do you have a signature scent? Something that when someone gets a whiff they think of you?

No, but I would love to have one. Any ideas?

2. Have you ever told a lie that severed a friendship? Romance?

If I did, I certainly can't recall.
3. You are granted a day to help mankind. You can be either a cup, a shovel, or a tire pump. Which one will you choose and why?

Definately a cup. I could offer a cold cup of water to a dying man, or quench the thirst of a hard-working one. I could brighten someone's day as the hot coffee warms her heart and hands. I could be a delicious cup of milk offered to a child to dunk his cookies. Helping mankind? Well, I don't know.

4. Are you ticklish? If so, does anyone else know?

Yes. My sister and I used to tickle each others feet at night to see who would laugh first.
5. Congratulations! You have just won one million dollars! Only one catch. You're not allowed to spend the money on the house, husband or the kids (including grandkids!). How will you spend the money?
Does that mean I have to spend it on myself or that I can give it all away? I'd be very generous with my church and parachurch organizations. I'd adopt as many kids as I could and provide the money for others to do the same. I'd send others out on missions to help children and others.
Now it's your turn:
1. If you could spend a day "just having fun" what would you do?

2. If you wrote a book about your life, what would the title be?

3. What is your favorite meal, dessert included?

4. Regrets? If you could change something from your past what would it be?

5. If you could drive any car in the world, what would you choose and what color?

Quiet

Ah, I sit her sipping hot coffee, the house is oh-so-quiet. I enjoy quiet time to collect my thoughts and sanity, to pray and read my bible. But today it seems too quiet.

Yesterday was the last day of school for my girls, so we are officially in summer mode. On Wednesday I was celebrating that I had only 2 more early morning lunch-makings for this year. Then I realized that Friday was a half-day and it was only 1 day left. (Did I really yell "Woohoo" and dance around the kitchen?)

I called Christina to see if she and Ethan were coming up this weekend. I was disappointed that they weren't. To celebrate the end of school, I wanted to take the 4 girls to get pedicures. I thought it would be fun. They didn't feel up to it.

So here I sit on Saturday morning alone. My oldest 2 have graduated from college and will not be coming home for the summer-will probably never move back. At the moment, my 3rd and 5th are housesitting. My 4th left early this morning to take the SAT test. It is too quiet.

Friday morning I was sitting at my computer. Michael walked in, gave me a hug, and said, "this is so sad."

"What?" (I'm thinking he realized that it won't be long before our kids are all grown up.)

"This is the last morning I'll see you up so early."

I was looking forward to sleeping in this summer. Is this what I have to look forward to when my kids are all grown? Quiet and more quiet? I better decide what I'm going to do when I grow up. It's a good thing parents and grandparents have a way of becoming needy as they get older. Otherwise I don't know what I'd do with myself.

Graduation Day

To the gentleman (who really wasn't) sitting behind us on Graduation Day, I wanted to tell you a few things.

When we took our seats, we didn't see you sitting there behind us. You must have come in later. But surely you noticed my young grandson sitting with us. He was there before we arrived, as was the little boy in front of us. If you thought it might be a problem, why didn't you sit somewhere else? Since you didn't I can only surmise that you were either neglectful in choosing your seat, or you thought you were a member of the noise patrol.

I too am very sensitive to noise and other distractions. I find it especially difficult during church with people moving around whispering and the occasional crying child. My solution is to sit in the 1st or second pew. When I sit up front I don't miss a thing and distractions are rare.

I'm pretty confident that when you saw the movement of my grandson, that you assumed he was an undisciplined, ill-behaved child. He is tall for his age and often mistaken for a boy of 6 or 7. He will be 5 this summer. Ethan (that's my grandson,) was very patient through the ceremony. He sat in my lap for most of the first hour and a half. Yes, he squirmed a bit, but he was mostly quiet. He was very well behaved.

I'll admit, right before the graduates walked across the stage to receive their diplomas, he did get down from my lap. He interacted with each of my children, smiling and grinning at each one. Occasionally a little giggle escaped. I think it was those giggles that you found so annoying.

Maybe you couldn't tell that Ethan is a special needs child. He doesn't talk yet and his only form of communication is gestures and noise. His giggles are music to our ears, it says he is happy.

Was this graduation not a happy time for you? Were you not there,as we were, to celebrate the joyous occasion of seeing our loved ones receive a Bachelor of Arts in Ministry? These graduates are ready to begin pastoring churches. They've spent many years preparing to be ministers of the gospel. The Gospel.

I wonder what Jesus would have thought as you so loudly hissed a shuuuush. I do believe the entire sanctuary heard you. I recall another time when some men were rather annoyed with little children in their midst. A wise man said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." Jesus. I believe He is the author of the Gospel.

And just in case you didn't know: the pastor of the very church we were celebrating in was also sitting behind us. In your same pew. He is a wise man. He once said the sweetest sound ever heard in church are the sounds of a happy, young child. I do hope our recent graduates remember the wise words of Jesus and not some angry man from their graduation.

Can You Guess

Can you guess what my family is doing? (Yes, they are in my kitchen throwing something. Sorry it is such poor quality. It was taken with my phone, as I couldn't find the video camera.)

Congrats

Congratulations Christina

My lovely daughter graduated on Sunday with her Bachelor of Arts in Ministry. We are so proud of her hard work and diligence. One day I just might be announcing we have a Pastor in the family! (Of course, we already do.) Congratulations Christina, you are amazing!

Yes, my kids are goofs.

My Brother

Greg

Can you all stand one more video? Several years ago I heard this song and immediately thought of my brother. He was a tough little boy but has become a wonderful father to 2 little girls and a step-son. Oh the stories I could tell you about growing up with him. (Hmmm...that gives me some ideas for blogging!) Anyway, here it is-and if my brother didn't have dial-up, he could see it too. He will have to wait for the DVD I will send him.



A side note: Greg didn't get married until he was 42 years old. He wed his high school sweetheart and has 2 beautiful girls with her and I am their godmother~

80

Happy 80th Birthday

Life At 80

Life At 80

(No, I'm not 80)

When I turn 80, I'm going to sleep in or take naps whenever I want. When I wake up, I'll lounge in my silk pajamas.

I'll sip coffee that someone else has made and soak in the beauty of the morning.

At 80, I'll do my hair once a week, and look lovely wearing silver locks.

By the time I reach 80, I will have learned to appreciate the little things in life. I'll be surrounded by kids, grandkids and great grandkids to enjoy and love.

By my 80th birthday I'll be kind and wise. I will have learned when to speak and when to listen and I will do them both well.

I will celebrate every chance I get. I'll attend Happy Hour with friends and laugh a lot. I'll keep my sense of humor. I'll be friendly and generous to those around me-maybe to the point that some might think I'm a crazy old lady.

At 80, it won't matter how good my health is, I will choose to be joyous. I'll work on puzzles, take walks-maybe in the pool, and look for the good in every situation. I'll forgive others and not be bitter.

I will laugh and cry. I'll read good books and keep my mind sharp. I'll keep my weight even, but will find a way to enjoy dessert every day. I might have chocolate cake before dinner.

And at 80, I'll probably still love Mexican Food and have it served for my 80th birthday. And if I do these things, I will be just like my mother-in-law. Her birthday is today.

Happy 80th Birthday!!!!

Wordless Wednesday

Time Travel Tuesday

Time Travel Tuesday

I was visiting Barb of A Chelsea Morning. She is participating in Time Travel Tuesday. It sounded like fun, so thought I'd join her.

For today's TTT, we are supposed to post our very first blog entry and tell how we got started blogging. So here it is:

So, my cardiologist wants me to "do the Zone Diet." According to him, it is a good, heart healthy diet and my whole family can benefit. I won't have to eat differently or prepare separate meals for myself. Sounds too good to be true. But I was willing to give it a try. If I am not successful, he wants me on meds. I haven't told him yet, that I won't take them even if this diet doesn't accomplish what he wants it to.

I went to Barnes and Noble to purchase two books he recommended. It sounded like it was a workable. We could live a normal life on it. Well, the first week life was too stressful to try it; A high school graduation, graduation party the next day...so the diet would have to wait a week.

Anyway, you don't want to hear about my procrastinations to start this new, incredible diet. So last night I began cooking one of these wonderful all-in-one dish meals. Sounded way too easy.

I am used to cooking for at least 7 people every night. Everyone living in this household is a teen, young adult, or full-fledged adult with the exception of one almost 3 year old. With teens and young adults come spontaneous invitations to dinner. So we often have extras, which translates into 7 to 10 people. I've learned to stretch meals by adding fresh fruit, bread, etc.

This is the meal I decided to create: Chicken Zucchini Italiano

Mmmmm...fresh basil, onions, chicken, mozzarella cheese, mushrooms, garlic...sounded delicious! It quickly became quite a chore, though. I did not have a pan big enough to cook all of the ingredients...I don't think my stove is big enough, and I did not have a serving dish big enough.

I cut up the chicken just fine. Then came the mushrooms, zucchini and onions. The orginal recipe called for:

4 cups zucchini
3/4 cup onion
2 cups mushrooms
2 tsp garlic

That is for 1 serving. So am I supposed to mulitiply that times 7??????? For those like me who don't like math, that means:

28 cups of zucchini
5 1/4 cups of onion
14 cups of mushrooms
1/3 cup garlic

You've got to be kidding! I figured I'd make less...but then was it ok to serve bread as a filler if that wasn't enough??? Of course there were other ingredients too. By the time I finished chopping and dicing and preparing small batches at a time, I was in tears.

The good news is, everyone pretty much liked it. The bad news is it was a lot to clean up, I didn't have the patience to prepare that much, and I was overwhelmed at the sheer volume of veggies. I don't have that much room in my 'fridge to store this much for daily consumption. I would have to shop every other day to cook like this.

So, do I call my cardiologist and tell him I can't follow the diet because it is too much work? Or tell him that I don't care if my family eats "non nourishing food" and gourges on bread and the likes and I will just prepare separate meals for myself?

For tonight's dinner? The doorbell just rang. It's pizza.

I'm trying to recall just how I started blogging. I have always kept a hand-written journal, so enjoy writing my thoughts. I believe I was on a message board when someone shared they were blogging. I had no idea what it was, so perused hers. She had a list of links to others and I became hooked. The rest is history.
(Update: I'm not very good at Meme's. This was not my first post, but my 3rd or 4th. Here is my first post.)

Happy Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day! I'm still working on my Mother's Day post but my kids made this CD for me. Thought I'd share it.

Sights & Sounds Saturday

Sights & Sounds Saturday
(Things seen or heard around Colorado)

Conversation that took place on my porch last night.

"Ooooh, this girl at school found a dead snake. She was carrying it around on a stick after school. It was so disgusting."

"Well, at least it wasn't a dead squirrel with bubonic plague."

"Why would a dead squirrel have poop on its leg?"

Laughter

"A squirrel with BUBONIC PLAGUE!"

"Poop on its leg?"

"Haven't you heard about the squirrels and rabbits that have tested positive for bubonic plague in town?"

"I don't know what you are talking about. I keep hearing poop on its leg."

Sigh. And the poop part from a girl in high school.

Laundry

I think the laundry must have a mind of its own. How else does one explain the disappearing socks? I wish the rest of the dirty clothes would follow the socks. Instead of coming up missing, they multiply. I kid you not. The longer clothes remains in the hamper, the fuller it beomes. You throw a load in to wash, but the pile never gets smaller. Well, except for those socks. What's with the socks anyway? If this keeps up, I'm going along with the socks to sock heaven. (If I could just figure out where that is.)

Hey Heth, From Under The Laundry Pile, if you ever crawl out and find sock heaven-let me know!

Congratulations

Just a quick CONGRATULATIONS to Elisabeth for making the Cheerleading Squad for college! Go Red, Blue, & White!!!

Cinco De Mayo

Happy Cinco De Mayo!

Any occasion for a celebration, especially when it includes Mexican food. We celebrate Cinco De Mayo every year. Only 1 of our invitees is actually from Mexico, but it doesn't stop us from having fun and enjoying great food! We had:

Chicken Enchiladas

Chili Con Queso

Beans

Cerveza

Homemade Salsa & Chips

Guacamole

Lettuce & Tomato

Flan

A somewhat mild celebration. (And no, we didn't shoot off any guns in the streets.) I believe we must have all been tired, There was no Mariachi band, or Spanish music, & no dancing. (Unless you count the former cheerleader who is trying out for college cheerleading, and the pom pon girl.)

Religion

There has been a religious discussion on a board that I post. It is a place that I care deeply about the other ladies. I do not wish to offend them. We come from different places, different religions, etc. But the board is not a religious board, but a large family one. I want to maintain a place where discussions revolving around large family life is discussed and moms of many can feel comfortable with one another. But when one of the posters began asking another about their particular religion, how does one stay quiet? So I wrote an analogy as to why it is impossible to not seem contrary. Here it is: (and these friends are of the Mormon persuasion.)

Let me see if I can give you an analogy. Suppose you had a dear friend who couldn't swim. Your friend has purchased a Life Boat for the purpose of going on a rafting trip. Now you have seen this Life Boat. It is built out of raw wood, complete with a raw wood life preserver. You can see that this boat may stay afloat for awhile, but once it is water logged it is going to sink. Since your friend can't swim, she will surely drown. So you try to point out to her that her life boat is actually not going to save her, but she will sink and drown.

Your friend tells you that you just don't understand that she purchased this life boat from a legitimate source and it is indeed a life boat, complete with a life preserver stamped right on the boat. She has other non-swimming friends that begin to ask her about this boat and express their desire to go rafting on her life boat.

Now you, as her friend who cares deeply about her, would you choose not to say anything so as not to stir up strife amongst friends?

Here is another analogy. You and a friend decide to move to Hawaii. You don't need to take any belongings with you as you will be able to purchase everything once you arrive. So you make plane reservations to Hawaii. Your friend instead buys a canoe. She plans to take off from the coast of California and canoe all the way to Hawaii. What do you do? You have other friends who want the same thing. Some have also made plane reservations, others are talking about following the canoe route. Since you all enjoy being friends where you are at, and once you arrive in Hawaii are you going to bother to point out that your friend in the canoe is probably not going to make it to Hawaii? Afterall, most likely the worst that is going to happen is your friend will be in the canoe for awhile, but then go back to living in California. California is not Hawaii, but certainly not the worst place to live.

So, where am I going with this? You wonder why I seem a bit argumentative when you are explaining your religion to someone else. You believe most of us who are decent people will be in some level of heaven and only the truly evil people will land in hell. You don't like it when you think others misunderstand the road you are on to your destination, so you try politely to help them understand. But it isn't a big deal if they don't quite make it to the same destination as you as long as they are going to make it to some level of heaven.

I on the other hand don't see it as such. I am in the first analogy. I see a heaven and a hell and nothing in between. I care deeply about you, but the path I see you on does not lead you to destination of heaven that I am on. I see it leading to a place of eternal torment. So while you might see me as mean-spirited by pointing out what I see as fallacies in your leaky boat, my true desire is that you end up in eternity with the One True God. I can't not say something when I see your destination as not just a lower level of heaven, but in an eternal place of fire.

Prom Pictures

Prom Pictures

Here is my beautiful daughter Sarabeth. She went to the Prom on Friday with 3 of her girlfriends. I'm so happy that she was comfortable going without a male escort. Why miss out on all the fun, just because you lack a male companion

Sleep

I need sleep, lots of it. Am I getting old? I wonder how I managed having 5 children, and the sleep deprivation that came with it. For 13 years straight, I didn't have uninterrupted sleep. Most nights I sleep 6 or 7 hours, but that doesn't seem to be enough. I look forward to Saturday mornings when I can sleep for at least 9 hours. (If you've never experienced this, I hope some day you will. For years, I doubted it would ever happen.) Occasionally, the kids have a day off during the week, and I look forward to that as another day to sleep in. (Now if I would also quit believing I get to stay up late the night before...)

Yesterday was just such a morning. I warned Michael the night before that I was sleeping in, and since it is the only time he gets up before me, I asked him to not wake me up. Apparently, he doesn't realize what a light sleeper I am. When I finally dragged myself out of bed, I was more than a bit cranky. Later, I felt terribly guilty for it. Afterall, Michael had to go into the office, so that is why he spent 20 minutes opening and closing drawers, shuffling through the closet, in-and-out of the bathroom, etc.

So why is it, that some people function just fine on little sleep, even laughing themselves silly or stay up all night just for fun?

Ethan had an EEG on Thursday, a sleep deprivation one. He was allowed to sleep from midnight until 4 a.m. My daughter was not looking forward to being sleep deprived along with him. His test began at 8 a.m. Ethan watched in a mirror, as the tech used a sharpie to draw dots all over his head. (What were we thinking? Yes, later in the day he was drawing on himself with a pen.) We could hear another overtired child crying in the next room. But Ethan was all giggles.


Being so tired, I thought he might get upset at the probes and then the wrapping of his head, but does he look like he minds? I know if I was that tired, and lying in a bed, I would not be so happy.

Once he was wired, they dimmed the lights and he cozied up to sleep. Then the strob light began flashing in his eyes. He grinned the whole time.
Once the strob light stopped, Ethan fell fast asleep. He was monitored for 10 minutes. Then he had to be woken up.

The whole time, I tried to imagine how I would feel if I had to endure this type of testing. Sleep deprivation, flashing lights, finally peaceful sleep-only to be awakened after 10 minutes. Ethan was a trooper. He awoke smiling, as if he'd had a full nights sleep. He didn't even fall back asleep on the drive home. I wish I could have his happy disposition with so little sleep.

What about those who go without sleep for fun? Last night was prom. Sarabeth attended. The after prom party began at midnight. Double-decker buses drove them around to various activities, so if the kids were tired, they weren't allowed to go home early. They had to stay up until the buses arrived back at the school at 7:30 this morning. But that is another story. I'll post pics tomorrow of prom or late today after sleeping beauty wakes up.

Wordless Wednesday

Wordless Wednesday

The Goofy Great Grandparents

Open Letter

Open Letter To Ethan's Father

Because you're his father, I thought I'd share with you that I took care of Ethan for more than 14 hours on Saturday. He was so cute when he woke up. He came walking out of the bedroom in his Power Ranger pajamas, wearing his backpack, and carrying the new sticker book I'd bought him. I don't know if you realize it or not, but Ethan's been a bit off of late. The most likely reason is he's having more seizures. The medicine is not keeping them under control, but sometimes it's hard to tell.

Knowing it could be tricky keeping him entertained all day, I picked up 3 new items for when-all-else-fails-pull-out-a-suprise. He breezed through the new Power Ranger and sticker book. I had hoped the fancy new markers, that only worked on special paper, would last a little longer. I knew I was in trouble when he'd bitten the tips off of every one of them, & it wasn't even noon yet. We did have a long, fun, but exhausting day.

On Sunday, it was nice that you volunteered to take him to a movie. That is a pretty safe, easy activity. Two words of advice, though: Next time, could you provide snacks for the movie? Do you know you can actually purchase food at the theater? I realize you thought you were doing us a favor by taking him for a couple of hours. But how much easier would it be for you to get him something to eat before you came over? You had no one else to worry about but yourself. Secondly, it is most disturbing to watch you strap Ethan in his car seat, then walk back to the house to wait for the snacks to be made. My confidence in your ability to care for him wanes. Never leave him unattended.

When you returned 2 hours later, it was nice that you offered to watch Ethan while he drove his tractor. He was unhappy about having to come inside and really loves riding it. (The day before, he drove it until the battery died and had a meltdown when I plugged it in to recharge.) But there are a few things I don't quite understand.

Yes, we have a creek running on the back of our property, and it is running deep this time of year. I realize how fast Ethan can be and how quickly he can get to the water's edge. What I don't get is how he could have driven his tractor into the murkey water. You managed to pull him out, along with the water-logged tractor. You dragged them both all the way to the front of the house without ever saying anything.

Don't get me wrong. I am so grateful you were close enough to pull him out. I'm thankful his glasses were still intact. But afterwards, what were you doing? I looked out the kitchen window, where I was fixing dinner and saw you unchaining the dog. I thought Ethan looked dazed, before realizing he was dripping wet. I ran to the door and called to you, asking if Ethan was wet. All you said was yes and continued to fuss with the dog. As I rushed to Ethan, I didn't notice you were wet too. I questioned if he'd gone in the creek, and I again got an affirmative answer. I scooped up my confused & shivering grandson and hurried inside. I began removing his drenched clothing. I called to his grandpa for help.

Working quickly, we towel-dried him off and dressed him in warm clothes. Ethan's grandpa went to check on the tractor. I spoke with you afterwards. You didn't offer much information. I know your heart must have been pounding when the accident occurred. Like I said, I don't know how you were able to pull both him and the tractor out so quickly-or did you? You could have yelled for help. You could have straightaway brought Ethan into the house. But you didn't. Were you ashamed? Did you think I'd be angry or call you irresponsible? I did neither, but reassured you that it could have happened to any one of us. But I question your judgment in being more concerned with how you were perceived than in Ethan's well-being. That part I do not understand.

Ethan needs a father that can be trusted to look out for his best interest, who will keep him safe and protect him. The next time you come to pick him up, I will give thanks that he has just that kind of a father-thank-you Heavenly Father that you are the one I can trust to watch over Ethan.

Paper or Plastic

Packing lunches is not my favorite thing. It is my own fault. I hear other moms tell of training their children to make their own lunches before school. I've heard what kids tuck into their lunch sacks.

(Driving home from the bus stop at the end of the day)
Kid 1-I'm starving! I didn't have time to make my lunch, so I had to grab an apple.
Kid 2-Well, at least you had something. There was nothing good at my house. I only had a bag of cheetos. I wish we'd had some cupcakes left.
Kid 1-Hilary, you're lucky. Your mom makes your lunch.

I try to be accomodating. I wouldn't want to eat a turkey sandwich every day for lunch and figure my kids are the same. Thinking back, I believe Christopher ate a sandwich, a yogurt, and a gatorade every day for an entire school year. I'd tuck in a dessert, or try to switch it up, but he'd let me know he really wanted these items to eat on a daily basis. So I'd give him egg salad, turkey, chicken salad, roast beef, salami...at least a variety of sandwiches-no repeats.

It gets tricky, though, trying to remember which child likes lettuce, who doesn't like cheese, strawberries with sugar to dip, but this one's allergic to strawberries. Sometimes I accidently put the salami sandwich in the lunch of the one who was supposed to get the turkey. Or I'd put the salad with ranch dressing in the italian dressing lovers lunch box. Thankfully, my kids are pretty forgiving.

The funny part is watching them through the years & their tastes in the packaging. By 4th or 5th grade, my oldest 2 would no longer take a lunch box. It wasn't cool. A small paper sack was fine, thank-you. I've never liked this transition. Firstly, as they cram that bag into their backpack I just know their sandwich is getting squished. I go to great lengths to pack a nice sandwich. I quit using bread to try making it less compact within those sacks. I use hearty sandwich rolls, but still...

I remember the sadness with which I packed my son's last lunch. I was overcome with the thought that I would never again make him his lunch. It wasn't as if he was moving out the on his last day of school his senior year, but it was the last time I'd lovingly pack it in that paper sack.

I don't recall Christina's last lunch. I think because she was the oldest and I was in a flurry with so many lunches that I didn't notice that last lunch. Elisabeth went to a private school her senior year. She was the only one who has had senior privileges to leave campus for lunch. I only made her lunch twice a week, so I missed her "very last lunch." Elisabeth carried a lunch box until high school. The "coolness" finally set in, and I had to be more careful with the sandwiches.

Sarabeth has always enjoyed picking out her lunch box. The past 3 years, it was a shiny, gold one from Old Navy. Gold is her favorite color. But as all good lunchboxes do, it finally had enough. Black was the new color of choice. It will be interesting to see if she chooses a new one for her senior year. Or whether or not she caves in to "coolness" and sports the ugly, brown, squishy, paper sack. She is pretty much her own person, so I suspect she will go for plastic.

Hilary, a freshman in high school, went for the ultimate in coolness. She chose a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle lunch box. But sadly, this week, they have lost their cool. I noticed the signs & should have seen it coming, but it snuck up on me. She asked if she could have the dreaded brown paper bag. I tried to protest. My biggest gripe now is they are making the sacks smaller, even though my lunches have become more creative. I try twice a week to pack a hot lunch into a nice silver thermos jar. Sarabeth loves it, maybe Hilary doesn't. I can't fit them into those sacks. I tried a larger produce sack, but that "was embarrassing." I was also informed she really needed a throw-away water bottle, as she didn't like having to save her lunch sack. No problem...at least not for her.

Last Friday, try as I might, I could not jam her lunch into that little sack-even if I left her water bottle out. I snatched the Turtles off of the fridge where they'd been hanging for awhile. I explained that she was going to have to take them again, but I handed her a sack that if she just couldn't be caught with a lunch box, SHE could figure out how to make it work.

Hilary came home from school "starving." Her lunch, packed neatly in the Turtles Box was left uneaten in the car. Did I mention how much I hate "coolness" and peer pressure?

Spring

I walk across the soft, green grass in the bright sunlight.
Achoo.
Yellow daffodils & pink tulips display themselves brilliantly.
Sniffle.
Apple trees with their delicate, white blooms stand out against the bright blue sky.
Eyes itch, water, and swell.
Spring in all its splendor, is best viewed from inside.

Final Move

Yesterday was the last part of the move. Since Sunday, bits & pieces, then boxes & furniture were moved into the tiny apartment. The remaining big item was the bed. Once the bed was put into place, it meant they weren't coming coming home again.

Home has been my place for the past 5 weeks. As nice as it is, I'm sure it felt like they were living in someone else's house. They had a few items, like their clothes and a shared computer, but most of their belongings were still in Arizona.

The entry way and lobby is grand. I could hear the pianist as I entered. I looked at my watch, 11:45. Yep! Today's events mentioned a pianist at 11:30-noon. A lively rendition of Amazing Grace resounded from the keys.

We wrestled the mattress and box springs from the truck to the 3rd story-thankful for the elevator. (Not like the 3rd story move with Christopher.) After making the bed, we all looked around. It looked very much like their home back in Phoenix. Even Poncho was there to watch over their doorstep, keeping an eye on Mr. Bear.

The unpacking was nearly finished, aside from a couple of suitcases. The pictures would be hung and everything tidied up, but it was beginning to look like home.


Michael and I had lunch with them in the dining hall. It was delicious. That evening was a Wine & Candlelight dinner, complete with a strolling violinist & Prime Rib. I wanted to come back for that, but figured it would be nice for the two of them to enjoy. It would also give them a chance to get to know their neighbors. I hope they had a lovely time.

We will miss having them here every day, but it isn't like they won't be here for dinner tonight. Besides, when I turn 70, I'm moving in with them.

Just Remembering

Gotcha

Yesterday, we were enjoying a lovely Sunday afternoon. I was busy wrapping a few gifts. Christina's 26th birthday is Thursday and we were having her birthday dinner that night. I almost always wrap gifts in my bedroom, and this was no different. Elisabeth was sitting on my bed chatting and helping wrap when she received a text message.

"Mom, did you talk to Christopher?"

"No, why?"

"You mean you didn't get a text message from him?"

"Well, I don't know. I don't carry my phone from room-to-room. Do you know something that I should know?"

"He just sent me a text that reads 'Sweet! My car was just totaled."

"What?" I ran to find my phone. Sure enough. There was the same text message. I quickly sent him the same response I'd given Elisabeth: "What?"
I didn't wait even a second and sent him a second message, "Call me." Then I wondered what I was doing sending text messages. For all I knew he was standing in the middle of the road with his car in a million pieces. Was he ok? He should probably be checked out at the hospital anyway. I dialed his number.

"Hi mom, what are you doing?"

"Well, wrapping presents for your sister's birthday dinner. You know her birthday is this Thursday. So what is going on??????"

Silence.

Then laughter.

"April Fools Mom!"

I told him he really had me going and then he made me promise to not give it away since he'd sent that text message to everyone.

"Did you send it to Lauren?" (That is his girlfriend.)

"No, I really wanted to still be alive tomorrow." (Smart man.) It's a good thing he is a thousand miles away.

The funniest part was when Hilary came up the stairs asking about this mysterious message. I am NOT a good liar, so I sent her to ask her father. He had not seen the message. His first response was, "I sure hope it wasn't his fault." He went back outside to finish up the yard work. We watched from the window as his phone rang. Christopher was calling to finish up the fool's business. After a few moments we saw Michael burst into laughter with threats of getting even next year.

Ahhhh...we have a whole year to plan our revenge. Feel free to share your ideas.

Just For Fun

I was reading Heth's Blog and saw she had linked to this. Yes, Janice & Susan at 5 Minutes for Mom are giving away a Dyson Vacuum cleaner.

Confession: I already own a Dyson. Yes, I truly love it. So why do I need another one? Well, mine has not been working so great recently. I am hard on vacuums. Don't let that discourage you from entering the contest. The suction on the thing truly is unbelievable. But it is all plastic. I broke off the plastic hook that you wind the cord around. Now I need a new hose, as I suppose I put too much stress on it when stretching it all the way down the stairs. (It is a very long hose, but ok, maybe I became so accustomed to the convenience that I pulled it a bit further than I should have.)

The real test: Would I spend that huge amount of money and buy another one? You bet I would. It is by far the best vacuum I ever owned. (I've owned some great vacuums, and it was my 4 or 5th one.) So I thought I would share this good news with the rest of you.

Pillow Presents

For as long as I can remember, I've shared a bedroom. It isn't always easy having someone in your space, but what incredible richness it has brought to my life. Life skills were learned, negotiation techniques mastered & sisterly bonds formed within the confines of shared sleeping quarters.

Sometime before I entered the 5th grade, Laurie and I began this adventure. My parents had purchased a 4 bedroom home. The 3 girls no longer were grouped together. My brother and older sister now had the privilege of residing in their own rooms. This left Laurie and I very unhappy with the new arrangement.

We had our ups and downs, but when we climbed into bed at night, we became comrades. We'd lie awake discussing how we could divide the room to give each of us our own separate space. We chattered about our day, commiserated about the struggles with certain friends, or expressed our secret fondness for a really cute boy. We'd tickle each others feet to see who would be the first to flinch. We laughed and laughed. We needed that physical contact but even more, we needed to connect. It didn't matter what we might have argued about earlier in the day. At bedtime, we became best friend sisters.

I don't recall exactly when it happened. It might have been Laurie's birthday. Maybe not. But one night, I left a note on her pillow. It said something like, "In order to find your very next clue, look around the room for something blue." I'd made a scavenger hunt of sorts for her. At the end of the hunt, she was directed back to her pillow. Underneath it, I had placed a small treasure.

That was the beginning of pillow presents. It wasn't every night, although in the summer it sometimes was. One or both of us would make, create, or find a treasure for the other. I was better at it than she was. I was supposed to be. I was older. I loved making scavenger hunts and they always had to rhyme. Laurie made up a few too, and it was ok that they didn't rhyme. Laurie's favorite pillow presents to give me were tamales. No, not red hot tamales candy. We're talking honest-to-goodness tamales. My mom (usually with our help) would make 12 dozen tamales around Christmas time each year. She'd cook them up a dozen at a time for dinner. If any were left over in the 'fridge I received a tamale under my pillow that night. I still can't eat tamales without thinking of them as pillow presents.

Last week, on Hilary's birthday, I saw her walking around searching. I wondered what she was doing. She was on a scavenger hunt Elisabeth and Sarabeth had created for her very late the night before. At the end were some small gifts they'd purchased. (You can see one of them in the wordless wednesday photo.) That was when the pillow present memories came flooding back to me. What richness comes to sisters who have shared a bedroom. Makes me feel sorry for only children and those who have small families and never had to learn to "live" with one another.

P.S. (My dad was/is an only, and he always told us to have more than one. I did my best to have a houseful.)

Wordless Wednesday

Fear Of Failure

Well, would you look at this. Yes, I am actually posting, and yes, I realize it has been over a week since I've posted and over 2 weeks since I've really written anything. Sigh. I remember this feeling. It is de ja vu. (Ok, maybe not quite so serious and life-changing, but the feeling remains.)

It happened sometime during my senior year of high school. Classes began at 8 in the morning. At 10:45, after my 3 core subjects, I spent the next 6+ hours at "beauty school." (Wouldn't it be terrific, if we'd been learning to be beautiful both inside and out?) It was good old fashioned learn-to-cut-and-style hair school. I'd convinced my parents that when I finished, I'd have a good steady job to pay for college. Honestly, I'd never thought it through at all. It was just something I thought would be fun.

At 5:00 o'clock, I'd rush home, change into my busboy clothes and get to the restaurant as quick as I could. I didn't mind busing tables. It was interesting to watch the different people come through. Old men eating steak, would talk your ear off, but leave a decent tip. Couples were harder. Some were obviously there to discuss serious subjects and didn't want to be disturbed. Others welcomed any interruption as if bored to tears by their date.

By 9 p.m., I was exhausted, but not smart enough to go home to bed. I needed to unwind. I would go out with friends or to my boyfriend's home. Some nights I'd make it home by 11, but often it was 1 or 2 in the morning when I'd lay my head to rest. Getting up at 6 seemed to arrive earlier and earlier.

It was those early mornings that I felt the gnawing sensation. It ate away at my sense of well-being. It told me that my life was out-of-control. There was an emptiness, and it wasn't just my lack of completing assignments. Homework? I didn't have time for that. I didn't study, read, or write anything for school outside of class. I began falling behind.

The constant inner nagging left me feeling like a failure. I didn't know how to catch up. I told myself I'd do better. But nothing changed. One day I couldn't face going to class unprepared. I had an idea. Instead of attending class, I'd spend those 3 hours getting ahead. It seemed like a brilliant idea. Catching up turned into a couple of extra hours of sleep. It felt good for the moment, but only made things worse. I began attending class 2 or 3 times a week. I didn't graduate that year.

A few days of not blogging, and I start to feel that same gnawing inside. Ok, maybe it isn't quite that bad, but with each day that passes I feel like I am running behind. I am sure fellow bloggers can relate to the thoughts that come each and every day, the words that fight to get out. But when the words aren't written that day, the following day new words form and the earlier ones are pushed to the back. After a week or two, the unfinished thoughts feel heavy. It takes great effort to sort through. Unfinished assignments. It is hard to know where to begin. Instead of blogging, I lay my head to rest at night believing I will do better in the morning.

I must be tired. I sound way too dramatic without good reason. Perhaps tomorrow I will feel caught up. This is extra credit for my missing assignments. I won't be withdrawn for lack of participation. I will graduate to a new day. Hope to see you then.

Old Or Grumpy

Old & Grumpy



(I used to wonder where my kids got their sense of humor.)'
Happy 15th Birthday Hilary!

Happy Birthday To Me

I am so excited. Summer is almost here. I feel the warmth as I step barefooted onto the pavement. It is not cold. I sense heat radiating up through my toes. The air smells summery, like a hot breeze blowing about dusty hay. I imagine cool wet sand as I scrunch my toes inside my boots. I tilt my head back, eyes closed and I soak up the bright sunlight that makes me squint. I want to squeeze into a swimsuit, slather on tanning oil and bake in the summer sun.

What is summer for? It is a time for growth. Little seeds are buried into the soil and in a few short months are producing luscious, edible fruits. I mostly look at summer as a time to slow down. Long, hot days are intended for more hours to work, but I like to believe we are afforded a bit more leisure. Time for staying up late and going out for ice cream cones, for cool, refreshing swims and water balloon fights. Summer is a time for marathon monopoly games that last for days and watching hours of home videos. Let's not forget the soft, green grass for laying upon while trying to figure out what character the cloud formations have created.

Summer is just around the corner, and this year we will share it with my inlaws. They are going to love summer in Colorado.

Wordless Wednesday

I have so many things running through my head that I want to share. Unfortunately, I seem to have very little time to accomplish this. How can I squeeze more time into my day??? No, I will not get up any earlier. My body severly protests early mornings. If I stay up late, I will hate myself in the morning. (This makes my body even more unhappy than usual.) So I will have to settle for not being able to blog as much as I want to. (Insert a huge sigh here.)

A few weeks back, in the middle of dinner, Elisabeth noticed brownies sitting on the counter. "Are those FAIRY TALE brownies????"

I nodded, since it is not polite to speak with a mouth full of food.

"Where'd they come from?"

After swallowing I answered, "My mom sent them."

She scrunched up her face as if I'd said a very strange thing. "Your mom? Oh that sounds weird. I can't imagine ever saying 'my mom sent brownies."

I had to think about this for a second. Was it too difficult for her to imagine me buying & sending brownies to her and her some-day family? Could she not fathom anything but homemade brownies? Or was it because I'd said "my mom" when I usually referred to her as Gramma?

It turned out that it was the latter. I think it is hard to remember that "Gramma" is "my mom." One day "Gramma" for her kids will be "her mom." (ME!) Why is it so hard for us to wrap our minds around these thoughts?

I remember similar times through the years. Watching my grandma become a great-grandma I wondered what it would be like when my own mother was a great-grandma. It happened when Ethan was born and now she had 2 great-grandchildren. But my mom and dad don't seem old. I have a hard time imagining my parents having serious health problems, or being frail. They've always been...well, the parents. Parents are supposed to be the ones who do everything, take care of everything. Or are they?

Michael's parents are in the process of a huge change in their lives. They've lived the past 42 years or so in Arizona. This Thursday, they officially become Colorado residents. They are coming here to live out their remaining years. We feel so privileged and blessed, but I wonder what they might be feeling. I can't imagine such a huge life-change at this point in my life. What would it be like in another 35 years or so? They are leaving everything comfortable, all the familiar. Not only will the weather and altitude be very different, the only ones they will know is us. New friends, new doctors, new church, new home...pretty much everything about their lives will change. I wonder if Fairy Tale Brownies would welcome them to their new life? Nah, I think I'll go for homemade cookies and a cozy, warm, electric blanket for their bed to remind them of the Arizona sunshine.