Prom Pics

Elisabeth helping Hilary get ready

Almost ready to go

Corsage

Hilary & David

A beautiful couple on a beautiful day

Michael, Hilary, Joanne

Elisabeth & Hilary (where were the other sisters?)

Grandma, Hilary, Grandpa

Really?

Ready to go

Prom '09

Prom

Tonight is the prom, so will be posting pictures tomorrow of my beautiful daughter, Hilary. (If I can get it, I'll have all of my beautiful daughters in the pic, but I don't think they will all make it here before she leaves.)

When I was in high school, I don't recall asking someone to prom as being a big deal. You either were asked or not. Nowadays, it seems a big to-do is made just in the asking. How did this happen? Is it across the country or just in our area? Maybe too many t.v. shows of spoiled rich kids being broadcast. I don't know.

Hilary is dating David, so there was never really a question of who she would with to the prom. A couple of weeks ago, after she'd left for school, I received a text message.

*I got asked.* It's hard to tell if she is excited or mad. I respond:

"Cool!" Anything special?"

*yes* I wait to see to hear more. Nothing. Ok, it could be because she is in class, but I am not patient.

"Well? Is that it?"

*He was waiting in my parking space when I got there. He had a fish tank*

"A what?" I understand text messages are short, but like I said, I want details now.

*1 big fish, 3 small fish* ....waiting....

*Oh, and a piece of paper*

"Real live fish?" In my mind, I imagine she meant a fish bowl, not a fish tank. I'm hoping for plastic fish.

Here is the actual message:

Very cute. She then messages me back.

*Real fish. What should I do with them?*

Oh boy. I'm already feeling sorry for these poor fish. I text her back.

"Where are the fish now?"

*Mr. P's classroom.* The basketball coach. And like any good mother, who jumps in to take care of everything, I respond:

"Ask David. It was his idea." LOL, yes, I did tell her that. Sort of how I responded when I got a message yesterday asking,

*Did we order a boutonniere?*

I laughed wondering what "we" she is talking about.

But when she said David was holding a fish tank, she really did mean a tank not a bowl.

Thunk Thursday

I missed the photo op on this one. So I improvised. I was grocery shopping today. In the produce aisle, I found the following sign:

New Lower Price Fresh Express Salad

$2.99 10 oz. pkg.

Right below this sign was the usual price tag which read:

Fresh Express Salad

$2.49 12 oz. pkg.

So, the new lower price is 50 cents more, and it is for a smaller package. I couldn't find a 10 oz. package. Only the usual 12 oz. package.

I chatted with the produce manager who seemed very flustered when I pointed it out. He went to the back to check the price. Sure enough. The new "lower" price on a 12 oz. pkg, (not 10 oz.) was indeed 50 cents higher. He offered to give me the $2.49 price. I accepted it, but then later kicked myself.

I should have taken it to the checkout, waited until it rang up at $2.99, then pointed out that the advertised price (for a 12 oz. bag, which this was) was $2.49. I then would have gotten it free, as per the store policy. If an item rings up at an incorrect price, it is free. I've received $20 packages of chicken for free before. It pays to watch prices. I blew this one.

Puzzle Pieces

I enjoy reading Julie's thoughts. This post, One Puzzle Piece could have been written for my blog title. Check it out.

Lost & Found

Michael & I went for a walk after dinner. I noticed a piece of folded paper lying on the ground. Upon closer inspection, I recognized what looked like the back of a check. I picked it up and it was a hand-written check for $4000. Just sitting in the middle of the street. I didn't recognize the name of the recipient, nor the name of the check-writer, whose address was Boulder, Co.

Using the internet, Michael located the owner of the check by phone. He didn't know he'd lost it, but arrived within 15 minutes to pick it up. How can someone be so careless with $4000?

But then, I have to ask myself the same thing. What am I being careless or reckless about? Are there things I value in my life that I don't give much attention? Do I continue about my day expecting the things I take for granted to always be here? What relationships/people do I take for granted? What daily pleasures do I feel entitled to and yet could be gone in a moment?

If I am honest, I have to admit I am a bit too lackadaisical about most things. That's about to change.

Tuesday Already?

I'm such a flake, and not very good at storytelling. Well, wait. That's not completely true. There was a time that I'd lie in bed with my kids. Instead of reading a book (I was too tired,) I'd tell them a story. Most of the time I'd make it up as I went. One of their favorites was about some kids that were their same ages, who loved playing in the closet. Invariably when they'd exit the closet, they'd be transported somewhere else. Kids are so easy to please. I could get away with telling the same story a bazillion times and they were delighted. Some liked me to change it up, others wanted it exactly the same. Simple. Joyful. Bliss.


The last night Hilary and I were in Arizona, my sister-in-law said to my neice, "Tara, it's bedtime. Do you want to give everyone a hug good-night?" Little Tara looked at her dad, then at me and said, "Well....not everybody." I laughed.

Thoughts of a Child 1

"Bye Madison!"

Melanie was surprised when her young daughter didn't respond. "Madison, didn't you hear Jacob? Say good-bye." The exhuberant boy continued waving as he walked with his mother. Madison's arm raised slightly. Her fingers fluttered for a moment. A whispered "bye Jacob," and her eyes fell to the ground.

As they walked to the car, Melanie pressed her palm against her daughter's forehead, then stroked her cheek. No fever. She brushed off the thought. The week was full of activity, no time to be sick.

After buckling Madison in the car, Melanie relaxed. She had a few minutes to catch up with her little girl before her afternoon meeting. "How was school sweetie?" Without giving her a chance to answer, she continued, "Mommy has to go to the church this afternoon to help decorate for Easter. How would you like to go to McDonald's for lunch? I brought you coloring book & crayons and some other things for you to play with. Bella will be at the church too, so you will have someone to hang out with while we finish preparing for the service. Madison sat silently in the back seat.

"Mommy," she finally said, "is it true that when I eat a cheeseburger I'm eating a dead cow? That's what Jacob told me. He said they kill the cows and cut them up and then make hamburgers out of them." She paused.

So this was what had caused her daughter to be so contemplative and quiet. Melanie wasn't sure how to answer her daughter before they arrived at the restaurant to eat.

"Well, yes honey. Hamburgers are made from cows. We eat meat all of the time."

"I don't think I want to eat burgers today. I don't like to think of cows dying, it makes my tummy hurt."

"So how about you have chicken nuggets today with honey? Doesn't that sound better?" She glanced in the rearview mirror and caught what she thought was a smile on Madison's face.

"That does sound better. But let's not talk about cows. That is disgusting!" Melanie hid her smile. Her 5 year was "disgusted." Where had she heard this?

After a busy afternoon, Madison seemed to have forgotten all about eating cows. Melanie and the ladies of the church finished decorating, while the girls played. That evening, as she finished the dinner preparations, Mel asked her son Zach to set the table.

"Why can't Madison do it?" He grumbled. "I have homework and she doesn't have any." Madison appeared in the kitchen doorway.

"I do too have homework. I have to read this book." She held up a hand-drawn, paper book that was stapled together. "Mommy, where's daddy? He's going to miss dinner if he doesn't hurry up and come home. I want to read my book to him."

Melanie looked at the clock. Bill should have been home by now. "Yes, daddy will be here any minute." She set a bowl of rice on the table. As she placed the chicken on a hotpad, Madison looked concerned.

"Mommy, is that cow? If it is, I'm not eating it."

"No, it's chicken, honey."

Zach rolled his eyes. "Madison, we eat cows all of the time. What's the big deal?" Madison looked horrified.

"Jacob told me they kill the cows and chop them up and make hamburgers out of them. That's just so sad I don't want to eat a poor cow." Zach laughed.

"What about the poor chickens?" Madison looked at her mother questioningly. Her eyes widened.

"We eat chickens???"

Zach almost fell over laughing. "Duh. Chicken. Chickens. Bawk, bawk, bawk! We're eating chickens for dinner."

"Mooomm," wailed Madison, "is that true?"

Just then the door opened. Bill appeared disheveled.

Our Time In Arizona

Honey, I'm home! Here is a quick run-down of our trip in pictures:

The view from my sister's home, sitting out by her pool.

Hilary's new best friend & sunbathing partner, Ginger the dog.

We shopped for prom dresses with Hilary's cousin, Cara:

I can't post the one she picked.

Enjoyed the sun.

Did someone say free? Ok, let's get some free stuff.

A satisfied customer

Went to the clubhouse for sand and sun

Tye-dyed scarves

On our way home!

Happy Birthday Christina!

Today is Christina's birthday. If you get a chance, head over to Ethan's blog and wish her a happy birthday.

Christina with her Grandpa, Two Peas In A Pod
(A sweet granddaughter)

Christina's Baptism, at 2 months-a beautiful baby!
(Daughter of the King)

1983-From left, Michael, my sister Laurie, Me holding Christina, my sister Carolyn & her husband Larry with son Michael in front, and my dad.

(A fun niece and cousin)

A Loving Sister

And Friend

Christina & Ethan-a lovely mom

A wonderful daughter! Happy Birthday Christina! (Notice I didn't say how old you are.)

Spring Break

Taking Hilary to Arizona for a few days. Since I don't have a laptop, my computer is staying here. May be able to check in or blog via my cell. We will see. See you soon!

I'd like my dignity please.

Back before I was enlightened, I naively believed doctors operated on a professional level. Translated, I thought they were above suspicion of being voyeurs. A doctor didn't notice me as a person. I was merely a patient. He didn't notice my undergarments, whether or not I shaved my legs. I felt doctors achieved this status something like mothers do.

A young lady in her teens would be completely mortified if someone vomitted on her or she on someone else. (This happened to a friend. She blew chunks of lunch down the back of the student sitting in front of her. Can you imagine finishing your high school years with that reputation?) Once this girl becomes a mom, without thinking, she holds her hands out in front of a puking child to catch the contents. Or casually cleans up the spilled contents of a leaky diaper.

I supposed that whether a doctor was looking down my throat or peering between my legs, he was just doing his job. He didn't see me as a real person.

And then I was enlightened.

I was almost 5 months pregnant with Hilary. I was having a lot of back pain, making it difficult to care for my 4 children. I decided to make an appointment with a chiropractor. I had to wait 2 days before seeing him.

I was miserable. Not only from the shooting pain, but I was depressed at my pitiful wardrobe. I was just pregnant enough that I didn't fit into my regular clothing. But after 4 pregnancies, my maternity clothes were pretty ragged. Knowing this would be my last need for them, I resisted buying new ones. I especially didn't want to spend the ridiculous price on underwear. Afterall, I would only be wearing them for a few more months and they were more expensive than beautiful lingerie.

The morning of my appointment, the only clean underwear in my drawer was 2 pairs that had holes in them. I was embarrassed to the point that I became desperate. What if I had to change into a gown at the doctor's office? What would he think of my holy, err, holie...you know, underwear with holes in it? I had an idea.

I opened my husbands top dresser drawer. Inside was a neat stack of soft, white, cotton underwear. Carefully, I pulled a pair out and tried them on. Wow! Men's underwear was so nice and comfy. They fit nicely over my pudgy belly. They were even soft around the legs. No scratchy elastic. They were almost perfect. Except for the pocket in the front and that darn wasteband with the words hanes running around it.

If I was getting a back adjustment, the doctor would never see the fly front. I tried rolling the waistband down so it was tucked neatly on the inside. It worked! I was pleased with my new, white, non-holed undies. Off to the chiropractor I went.

I almost forgot about my little secret, until I was asked to change into a gown. I smiled sheepishly to myself. Nobody would ever notice. The doctor entered the room, & introduced himself. After discussing my back problem, the fact that I was pregnant and couldn't be ex-rayed, he was ready to do an adjustment. He had me lay face down on the table.

I felt the gown open in the back, as I got into position. I shot a prayer to heaven that he wouldn't notice my whity-tidies. And then it happened. I felt something grab the back of my underwear. With a firm grip, he tugged. The Hanes waistband was exposed. He gasped. Still grasping the underwear he blurted out, "What's this?"

No words came. Awkward didn't begin to describe the situation. I couldn't even mumble. He finally released his grasp. "Why are you wearing men's underwear?" He was obviously horrified.

It was then, that I realized, not all doctors act in a professional manner. They do notice things like unshaven legs, or if you are wearing men's underwear. Some doctors would be merciful and allow me some dignity, laughing only when they retold the story at dinner that night. This one probably chuckled with his family later, but did not spare the me the humiliation.

I never saw him again.

Change Happens

Yesterday Ethan and I watered the flowers and the shrubs.

It has been so dry here.

This morning I was awakened by someone yelling, "MOM!" Forty-five minutes before Hilary normally rolls out of bed, she came screaming into my room, just so she could announce, "We're having a snow day!" Great. If my heart wasn't pounding I could fall back asleep. I peeked out the window. It was barely snowing. The streets were hardly wet.

Five hours later, the wind is howling. The snow is blowing.

Sorry, Christopher. I would have pulled your car in the garage if I'd known it would snow this much. (Well, you know. Then if we needed to go out at some point, we'd have a 4-wheel drive vehicle warm and free of snow.)

At noon, the news says it will keep snowing until Friday morning. Looks as if Spring Break began 2 days early!

A Few Of My Favorite Things

Tangerine,

my new favorite color.

I still love yellow,

How could I not?

And together,

Such a lovely combination!

Yum!

You Know You're Getting Old When...

You start blogging about medical stuff. Your aches and pains, doctor visits and "procedures."

You visit your gynecologist who sends you to your primary doc because your cholesterol is high.

Your primary doc sends you to the cardiologist.

Your cardiologist runs tests and sends you back to your primary doc.

Your primary doc sends you to the allergist.

The allergist runs tests and sends you back to the primary doc saying you need to see a gastroenterologist.

The gastroenterologist peforms tests and sends you back for more tests.

You have a mamogram and they call you back for further evaluations. They make you come back 6 months later.

Your gynecologist sends you to a dermatologist to have a skin lesion checked.

Your dermatologist removes the skin cancer and makes you return for regular visits.

Your doctor gives you drugs that counteract drugs your other doctor gives you causing side effects that another doctor has to prescribe to alleviate the side effects of the other drugs.

I hate getting old.

Mr. President's Recent Gaffe

I wanted to comment on President Obama's recent appearance on television. He is the first sitting president to appear on the Jay Leno show. My first thought was that our president is a Hollywood man. He presents himself as a famous, good-looking actor most of the time. Isn't this what celebrities do when they are pushing their latest film? They make appearances on the Tonight Show & David Letterman to generate interest in their recent production. If the actor appeals to the American Public, we pay money to see the movie. The movie becomes a blockbuster. The actor demands higher pay for his next film.

Our president was pushing his latest act, hoping to stimulate enough interest to cause us to dig deeper into our pockets. His worth goes up and we lose billions.

But when I watched the Jay Leno show something bigger appeared. Instead of writing about it here, I suggest you read Kate's most recent post "Out of the Overflow of His Heart, His Mouth Speaks." She does an excellent job explaining why President Obama's gaffe was more than that. It reveals his heart.

By The Light Of Day

We arrived at the center right on time, 6 a.m. Daylight savings time causes this hour to look and feel like the dark age, err...middle of the night. For the second time in history, I left the house with no makeup. I didn't even shower. Scary. The black of night isn't such a bad thing. Besides, nobody would have recognized me.

After checking in at admissions, Michael and I sat down to wait. And wait. Finally a nurse appeared. She called my name. As we walked through the swinging, double doors, she asked me, "how'd your prep go?"

"What prep?" I asked a bit alarmed.

She turned her head curiously. "You know, that stuff you had to drink and all."

"There was no prep. I didn't do anything." I sounded defensive.

The nurse stopped dead in her tracks and turned toward me. "You mean the prep didn't produce any results?"

"I mean, I wasn't given any instructions on how to prepare for this. Well, except to come looking like I just crawled out of bed." She wasn't amused.

"Aren't you here for a colonoscopy?"

"No, I am not." I now knew what results she'd been talking about. I'm slow when I miss out on my morning coffee.

"Well, maybe I have the wrong patient. What is your name?" Are you serious lady? You just stood in the waiting room, called my first and last name, and I dutifully followed you. I pointed to my name on her chart.

"That's me." She quickly pulled it away and made me repeat my name and spell my last name. I felt like a child who'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar and tried to lie about it. While the parent does her best to get me to confess to what she already knows.

Exasperated, the nurse finally asks, "then what are you here for?" If I wasn't anxious about this procedure already, I was now.

"An endoscopy."

"Well, it says here colonoscopy. Someone must have written it down wrong. Wait here, I'll be right back."

Thankfully, the rest of my time at the Center went a little better. Well, except for when this same confused nurse jabbed and poked in her attempt to place an I.V. in my hand. After my little nap and scoping, I returned home. I promptly fell asleep and slept for 7 hours. It's weird to wake up at 4 in the afternoon. If the time hadn't changed it would have felt more like morning, as it wouldn't be so light outside. I wish they'd quit changing the time on me. The procedure photos they sent home with me would have looked less gross in darker lighting.

Seventeen

At seventeeen, you are so grown up, and yet still young. Teen birthdays seem like such milestones as you are handed more responsibility every year. It's hard to believe that you have exactly one year left until you are officially declared an adult. (It's a government thing. I'm not sure when it was decided or who made the rule. Someone decided if you mess something up, we the parents don't have to fix it. You are legally responsible.) So have a very happy birthday and a wonderful year being 17.

And for fun, here is a short recap of year 16.

The end of Pom Season

Your First Denver Nuggets Game

Spring-1st popcicle of the year

End of your sophomore year & Sarabeth's graduation

Aloha!

Camping Trips (The first was with Christopher & Lauren-you loved it so much, you went several more times.)

Summer at Elitches!

Homecoming Dance with who else, but David (He shows up a lot in pictures.)

You gained a sister

First time shooting a gun

After your first accident, you thought driving with Ethan was safer.

Wearing new glasses with your favorite nephew

Are you the most favorite Auntie?

Saying good-bye to Christopher & Lauren for a year.

Happy 17th Birthday Hilary! May you be blessed throughout the year.