When Bad Things Happen

Nearly five years ago to the date, we rolled our truck on the way to our friends' house. I'll never forget seeing everything in slow motion as we approached the ditch, the horrific thud and crash, and then the seemingly never-ending silence before Sassy started screaming bloody murder. By the grace of God and our seatbelts, we were fine. R and I had scratches and bruises, but Sassy was unscathed. It didn't hit me until we got home. We tucked her in and I sat down on the couch and sobbed. I realized how fast everything could change. We could have been going to the morgue instead of putting our baby in bed. Instead, it was just a regular Saturday night like all the others before. We just needed a new truck.

Six weeks later my brother died unexpectedly. Just over a year later, we lost my niece. I remember sitting in the waiting room, leaning over and just letting my big fat tears fall on the floor. I was racked with grief, disbelief, sorrow and guilt--I was leaning over a five-month pregnant belly. I remember looking around at my broken family and telling God I was done. The God I trusted couldn't have let all of this happen to us.

Thankfully I didn't veer too far, and I hope that God has forgiven me for giving up on Him. I've grown a lot over the last few years, and I hope to grow even more in the future. R and I are doing a study group at church where we're watching a documentary series on Catholicism. Our meeting a few weeks ago focused on the existence of God and why bad things happen if there's a God. It of course didn't explain everything, but I loved this analogy.

The artist Georges Seurat did this entire painting in dots. As we watched the DVD, the camera was zoomed in on ONE dot and it was just a brown blob. Then they panned out a little bit and it was a few dots. Then they panned out a little more and it was a nose. Then a little more. A man's face. A little more. An entire man. Finally, the whole painting was in view. The priest on the DVD said that we have to remember that in our own little world, we might just be able to see dots. We have no idea that others see different dots. Or that they all work together to create the masterpiece that God has created. We have to trust that He sees everything we can't.

Last weekend's school shooting has made me question Him yet again. I think it's hit me even harder because we have a six year old, and school is one place where she should always feel safe and loved. Facebook has been bombarded by people who are praying for Newtown, but there are also plenty who want to know where God was and how He could permit this to happen. I don't have the answers, and I don't know why my own family has had more than its fair share of loss. But I have to believe once again, that this is the same God who stood by when His son died. A friend of mine said there's a statue of Jesus across from the OKC building that was bombed in 1995. He's turned away from the building with His face in His hands and it says, "And Jesus Wept."

I'm holding my babies a little closer this week, even though I've seen how fast things can change. Unfortunately, it's hard to truly live each day to its fullest and not take things for granted. Real life gets in the way and it's way too easy to get mad about the toys left in the hallway or the towel that never stays on the rack or the refrigerator that's always open. And right now, to be honest, I'm a little "blah" because both girls are under the weather, I took off today, I may have to take off tomorrow and holiday plans are up in the air. But if I stop and take a deep breath--I'm blessed. I still get to tuck my babies in tonight and pray with them. We'll pray to a God who's always working on that perfect masterpiece--and we teeny little dots don't have to understand.

All in the Family

In-laws get a bad rap. We all know the (appropiately enough) in-laws from Kansas who show up unannounced at Christmas. "That there is an RV, Clark. . . ." Everybody Loves Raymond based an entire show on living across the street from your mother-in-law. (And to say it wasn't pretty is putting it mildly. Can you even imagine having Marie as a mother-in-law?) There are houses with "mother-in-law quarters". . . because they can't possibly share any breathing room with us. . . And the jokes and the stereotypes go on, and on, and on. After eleven years of marriage, I finally hosted my first Thanksgiving last week. The in-laws were here for five days. And we had a great time. Really. No punchlines or "insert in-law bashing here." Not to say that we haven't had issues--that happens even with blood relatives. It's like anything else: you take the good with the bad, roll with the punches, and somehow muddle through life together.

After fifteen years of knowing my in-laws, I'm learning to appreciate the things I gain from the people I chose when I chose their son:

1. They bring something new--literally--to the table. Is it weird for my Irish mother-in-law to make Chinese noodles for our American Thanksgiving? Yes. Are they tasty? Definitely. And do my kids expect them for holidays now? You bet.

2. All the crafts and projects that I don't have patience for. . . Grandma was BORN to do. The woman sat at our kitchen bar on Saturday for hours with a hot glue gun and a foam nativity scene. The girls came and went but she kept right on working. And it was ok that the donkey's ears were upside down (surely there was something at Jesus's birth that resembled a hamster, wasn't there?) and that the sequins were missing--again. Mama probably wouldn't have been half as calm, cool, and collected.

3. There are 21 years of my husband's life that I'm not a part of. And I love that these people know those stories and can tell my girls. Daddy used to set up snake traps with his imaginary friends, Cowboy and H Pom Poon (Yes, that was really his name. Hey. . . . maybe that's where the Chinese noodle recipe came from. . . ) He fell out of his crib at 18 months and broke his arm. He built the canoe that we take out every summer in the basement of my in-laws' home. Sometimes I forget that once upon a time, the man I love was the little boy that they raised.

4. It's ok to be the bad person. I've gotten upset in the past when I'm JUST the mom and my girls' aunties and grandparents get all the glory. No one wants Mom when they're around, the girls cry when they leave, there aren't any rules until mean old Mommy butts in and makes everyone's lives miserable. Or so it seems. But then I remember that my girls will have lots of aunties, lots of cousins, two grandmas, two papas. . . and one Mom. And I'm not here to spoil them and give them everything they want. It IS about being the bad guy: teaching them right from wrong, helping them make good choices, and making sure they're ready someday to get married and have their own families. And then I can sit back and do foam crafts and spoil their kiddos rotten. :)

5. Even when it's hard, it's worth it. I know we don't always see eye-to-eye and that there's a fair amount of tongue biting from all parties involved, but I'm truly blessed to have these people who raised the man who is raising my babies. I know that part of what made me fall in love with R was loving the family he came from. And I'm so glad that they're a part of my daughters' lives. They can roll up in the R.V. at our place anytime. As long as Chinese noodles are involved.

Back to the Future

Whoever said high school is the best time of your life never went to college. :) I loved college. I've said more than once that I'd go back in a heartbeat. SO many memories of E-town!

Mondays meant 10 cent wings at Noah's.
Thursday was 50 cent tacos at Babe's, and of course, Karaoke.
After singing like a rock star, you could go next door to Lewis and Clark's/Buckets/The Outback. . . Luckily its popularity didn't change like the name. It was always THE place to go.
Then at 2 am, nothing was better than going next door again--Pyramid Pizza. It was even good during daylight hours when you were fully-functioning. :) That braided crust dipped in honey. . . Yes, honey. . .
Godfather's Pizza offered free buffets if you could sink the Nerf ball in the hoop hanging behind the register.
Bruff's had amazing pin tacos and a fun dance floor upstairs.
Turtles had big schooners and shuffleboard tables.
My first date with R was at Coach's. I can still see exactly where we sat and the long sleeves he wore on the last day of April to hide poison ivy. :)
If you could stand the smell of IBP (Iowa Beef Processors) across the highway, Carlos O'Kelly's was the place to go for margaritas and (FREE) baskets of chips and salsa. . . Who needs to order a meal?
The Dugout had cheap pitchers. . . And they didn't really mind if you weren't 21. . . Oops.
Lugens had a big outdoor "beer garden"--seriously cool.
I waited tables at McGillicutty's and learned you shouldn't date a co-worker because it's not fun to work with your ex-boyfriend. . .
At Johnny's, you could have your own mug on the wall (Hubby's self-proclaimed label read "Captain.")

It's really no surprise that the "Freshman 15" exists. . . I'm more shocked that it's not the Freshman 50. Is it sad that so many fun times involved food and. . . beverages?

Last weekend was bittersweet for me. E-Town obviously holds a special place in my life for numerous reasons. It's where I met some of my closest friends. It's where my dream to teach became a reality. It's where I first realized my love for libraries. It's where I met the man I would later marry. Not to mention all the fun! :) It was great to re-live our college memories, but it was also sad to visit our old stomping grounds.

Sitting at the stadium and "people-watching," I realized that it's no longer "OUR" college. This year's freshman are half--HALF--our age. They have no clue who we are--nor do they care. Noah's, Babe's, Lewis and Clark's/Buckets/The Outback, Pyramid Pizza, Godfather's, Turtles, Carlos O'Kelly's, The Dugout, Lugen's and Johnny's. . . . all GONE.

Bruff's and Coach's have both moved to different buildings--which just isn't the same. We tried to re-create our first date last Saturday (minus the poison ivy) but I couldn't shake the feeling that we were in a Mexican restaurant; it wasn't the Coach's I remember. McGillicutty's ironically enough is now La Hacienda. Driving around, I got more and more depressed and finally blurted out, "Why can't it just be 1997 again?!"

And then it hit me. Thank goodness it's not. If it were, I'd still be a 21 year old college girl, not the person I've grown to be. I wouldn't have my babies. I wouldn't have my husband. I wouldn't have THIS life.

E-town is still an awesome college town. And the kids there probably can't imagine life without Natasha's (new bar on Commercial) or Wheat State Pizza (in Godfather's old building--I have to admit it was awesome. Even without the Nerf ball.) They'll have a different set of memories to take with them in four short years.

And at the end of the weekend, I took my own memories with me. No, E-town isn't what it used to be, but neither am I. Luckily though, some things never change. I still got to drive a cute boy home. And this time I didn't just drop him off at the door.

Divine Introduction

I don't know why I'm surprised when a homily at church applies to me--He knows the words I need to hear long before I do. Last Sunday, our priest talked about marriage and how married people are called to fulfill our "assignment." After we say "I do," we need to spend the rest of our lives "getting married." Not just that day. Long after the cake has been cut and the dance is over, we should spend the rest of our lives getting married to each other. (LOVE that!) He then asked: "How did you meet?" which is always a fun, nostalgic trip back in time. And it was VERY fitting because we got to spend this weekend in the college town where we met fifteen years ago.

Since graduating in 1998, I think we've been back to Homecoming once. We usually get the flyer and it goes directly to the trash since it's a four hour drive. Something made me open it this year. And I immediately saw that Doc was retiring. Doc was my husband's mentor in college. R worked as an athletic trainer under Doc for the men's basketball and football teams. After forty six years, Doc finally retired. I knew we had to go. So we left the kids at my parents' and headed out to ESU.

I went to a community college for two years before transferring to ESU. R was in my VERY first class at ESU--which I would have already taken had it been offered at AC. I remember seeing him, but I was dating someone at the time (and so was he.) Then I kept seeing him every Sunday at the Catholic campus center which really impressed me. What kind of guy goes to mass every Sunday when he's away from home? I remember thinking he just looked like a good guy. Flash forward to the next semester. We were both single and I literally ran into him at a club. My two roommates at the time were on the track team and they spent the next few weeks hounding the blonde haired guy in the training room to call me. They came home one night to tell me it was his 21st birthday and he had said that I should come out. Well everyone I knew was either 1) back home for the weekend or 2) staying in because of a track meet the next day. This gal went out to the clubs ALONE just to see R. And then sat at the bar all night and talked to him. (He was taking it easy after living it up the night before when midnight rolled around. ha!) I even made up some lame excuse about my "friends" finding other ways home just so I could give R a lift. He invited me to his birthday party later that weekend, and then an official first date the next week. And here we are.

Last Sunday, Father said that the more important question was not HOW we met, but WHY. WHY did we meet? Why did God bring us together? Looking back, there were so many "coincidences" that had to be God. I should have already had that general ed Developmental Psychology class. I wasn't even supposed to be living with the track girls, but my previous roommate moved in with her boyfriend and I needed a new place to live. (Ironically, my old place was right BEHIND R's complex... ) Why were R and I at the exact same place at the exact same time? Where we just "happened" to bump into each other (and I got to use my oh-so-smooth pick up line: "Hey, weren't you in my Developmental Psych class?) :) I didn't know it at the time, but God was working things the way He always does. Quietly, purposefully, perfectly.

With each passing year, I'm realizing more and more what a gift he is and I'm SO grateful for the chain of events that brought us together. I'm blessed.

I get to spend the rest of my life getting married to that blonde headed trainer from ESU.

Bookworms

I love words. I'm the girl who would sit and read the cereal boxes at breakfast time, got in trouble for bringing a book to the dinner table, and followed along with the readings at mass before I knew what the words said. (I was destined to be a writer . . . or a nun. . . ) To this day, I almost obsessively compulsively consume EVERY word I see. I really thought everyone's brains worked this way until I met my husband who is neither literate nor observant. He doesn't notice any signs, billboards, license plates, announcements, etc. Meanwhile, the letters are flying at me, a mile a minute while I try to process EVERYTHING. (It does sound more than a bit strange now that I, ironically, write it out. . .)

I decided in sixth grade to be a writer. Mr. Brown wrote in my graduation card that he'd never seen talent like mine from another sixth grader. Maybe he wrote it in everyone's cards, but I still have it somewhere--never underestimate the power of a teacher's words! Of course, right before college I got scared that writing wouldn't pay the bills so I did the next best thing--I spent nine years teaching eighth graders HOW to write. I hope someone somewhere is keeping a note that I've forgotten I wrote. I LOVED teaching, but when it came time to consider a master's, I wondered if I should consider another option--just in case. It didn't take long to figure out my other love. In college I realized that while waiting tables WAS paying the bills, it probably wasn't doing much for my resume. So I worked at a public library. WOW. It was an obsessive-compulsive-word-consumer's dream! So here I am, now in my fifth year as a school librarian. In many ways, it's a lot like teaching. Little pay, lots of work, not much glory or glamour. But then a kid comes in and tells me the book I recommended was "UHHH-MAZING!" or kids are fighting to get to the coveted shelves of state award nominees or another kid who has moved on to the high school tells me he misses MY library. And I think: How is it that I'm getting PAID to do what I love?

And I'm proud to report that my love of words lives on in my girls. Forgive me for a moment because I'm going to be one of those moms. Sassy just started first grade and she's devouring Magic Treehouse books. She really took off this summer and I would catch her reading nonstop. It's been so fun to see her beg for bedtime so she can read “one more chapter.” She's read 17 books so far at school this year—and most are nonfiction that are right at a 4th grade reading level. I love the notes that her teacher writes across the reports: “Holy canoli!” “You've got to be kidding me!” “What? Saaaweeeet!” Several are on the fridge—again, the power of a teacher's words!

And Keke goes to bed each night with a huge stack which is great until I remember the morning of that our library books are due and I've got a flashlight and an arm shoved down between her bed and the wall looking for missing books. I'm almost certain that we returned one of those books with some birthday money left in it, but that's a different story. . . . At night after I've tucked them in, I hear Sassy reading her book out loud and Keke “reading” hers to all the toys in her bed.

I keep saying that “someday” I'll write that book I've always wanted to write. But for now it's pretty cool to share my love of books during the day with middle school kids. . . . and even better to share it with the two little people waiting each night on my couch.

Weekend Woes

I've decided that we could have prevented this summer's drought had we just camped every day. Yes, we attempted to camp this weekend. To our credit, it was supposed to be beautiful and then the dang weathermen changed the forecast on Thursday. Friday night was actually great. R and I sat around the campfire until about 1 am and the weather was PERFECT. It was that "crisp, cool, need a sweatshirt and a fire" kind of night. Ahhhhhh. Of course, that all came to a screeching halt when it started raining a few hours later. It was that "steady, constant, not quite a downpour but not gonna stop any time soon" kind of rain. Which was still going strong at 10 am when we finally pulled out. Bleh. It was our shortest camping trip ever but there were plenty of moments to remember.

1. When my newly potty trained little lady woke at 5:45 to tell me she had to pee, I quickly won the "Worst Mommy Moment" award. It was raining, it was early, I was warm and sleepy. "You have a pull-up on. Just go." Even worse is that she did and didn't bat an eye. I think an hour later when Big Sis and I needed to go (next time maybe we'll all wear pull-ups) I changed her. Go ahead, judge me. I totally would. :)

2. The tent leaked a little, nothing like before and we all stayed dry. However, the girls still wanted to climb up onto our cots. I commented that there didn't seem to be as much room this time with KeKe on there (She's declared that she doesn't like "Stinkus" anymore.) Sassy: "I know! I think Dad must have gained some more weight." Oh my. I laughed. And laughed.

3. A little while later when Daddy and Sassy got up, KeKe ran over to grab the empty cot. She hunkered down in the sleeping bag, sniffed the air rather dramatically and announced: "I smell toot. . . Daaaaaaaaddddddd!" HAHAHAHA! Poor Daddy.

4. I was pleasantly surprised that despite waking up at 5:45, the girls kept themselves busy while R and I "slept in." It was pretty sweet to see them laying in bed reading, coloring, and playing board games. And even sweeter to roll over and doze for a little while later. Too bad I didn't have a pull-up on. I could have made it for HOURS.

5. Despite all the stuff I packed, it was inevitable for boredom to set in. And when it did, apparently our girls see cots and an air mattress as WWF arenas. Sometimes I'm not sure we truly had girls. They were jumping off the cots, body slamming each other, leg wrestling. You name it. Of course, it was great incentive for me to get the cots and mattress packed up. . .

6. I realized once again how very blessed we are to have R. He made umpteen trips back and forth to the tent to load everything up, carried the girls under a poncho, and then while we three sat in the truck, he took the entire tent down in that "steady, constant, not quite a downpour but not gonna stop any time soon" kind of rain. I looked out at one point, and my dear husband was LAUGHING. Laughing. I opened the door quickly--yikes, I'm getting wet!--and yelled, "What are you laughing at?!" He turned with the most beautiful grin and shrugged: "What are you gonna do?" I was so touched by his attitude. Had the shoe been on the other foot, I would have been snapping tent poles, throwing, kicking, cursing, and wadding the whole thing up in a giant mess. But there was R. Laughing. And ever so carefully taking everything apart, folding it up, and loading everything as if it was the most beautiful day ever. And he's right--What are you gonna do? Not like we could control the weather. I'm so grateful for him. The day could have been so much different had he let it ruin his mood.

7. On the drive home, we were all kind of in a funk about having to pack up. Sassy was crying because she had wanted to make campfire donuts, so then I bribed her with Sonic French toast sticks before I remembered that we had two kayaks strapped to the top of the truck and fitting under the roof at Sonic probably wouldn't happen. Cue more tears. . . Then we came up on a wreck that looked pretty bad. And suddenly our "bad day" wasn't anything close to a bad day. We were all together and we were safe, just a little soggy and tired.

8. Home sweet home only lasted about an hour. Right after we fixed our "camp" breakfast in the kitchen, but BEFORE we had showers, the power went out. I wish I was kidding. Luckily it came back on about thirty minutes later. And I'd had some coffee so it was a little easier to take. :)

9. I'm pretty sure I jinxed us with the rain because I started packing really early in the week and I'm almost positive that we didn't forget anything this time. Next time we plan a trip, I'll be sure to procrastinate and forget something like I usually do.

10. We still got together with the friends that we had planned to camp with--after all, we already had dinner and dessert planned! It was great to catch up, even if we weren't gathered around a campfire. We may TRY to go again this fall--summer seems too far away!--but it might stay too cool. And I'm sure it will rain.

Hole In One

I love that my girls have each other. There's nothing like a sibling. Although there were definitely some rough moments getting along when we were younger, (hairbrush throwing, brother kicking the bottom panel out of my bedroom door, that same door being thrown open hard enough to leave a doorknob-sized hole in my wall. . . ) I'm so grateful for my siblings. Now that we're all adults, we have such great relationships. We don't get to see each other very often and we probably don't talk as often as we should, but when we get together, we truly enjoy each other. Of course, it might be because we live hours apart. . . We probably prove the adage: Absence makes the heart grow fonder. ha!

The older the girls get, the more I love seeing them interact. They carry on entire conversations in the backseat that I'm not even part of (and I'm sure as teenagers, there will be MANY more of these.) They build Lego houses, forts, and zoos. They draw, paint, and cut (thankfully just paper--no one is missing any hair. Yet.)

Of course, it's not perfect harmony 24/7. Sassy likes to play in her room--alone. With the door shut and a broken-hearted little sister on the other side. Stinkus likes to color, tear, knock down, erase, paint, eat, etc anything that's special to Big Sis. She's also been known to scratch, pinch, bite and hair-pull when she's all fired up. Sassy is sometimes not as gracious to share but thinks all of Stinkus's toys are fair game. Somedays there are total meltdowns because the other sister got the pink plate at dinner or I was supposed to get the other one out of the bath first. It's enough to make ME want to put a hole through a wall.

The other night, I was getting dinner going and I noticed it was REALLY quiet. Which is usually a bad sign. It means that Sassy is playing in her room and Stinkus is doing something that she shouldn't be. I was pleasantly surprised to find that not only were they playing together, they were working on building a miniature golf course in the front room.

I love that they were looking at normal, everyday toys and determining how they could be used.

I love how creative they are--and that they don't rely on TV or us to entertain them (I see a lot of kids at school who expect this every day.)

I love that Sassy was showing Stinkus how to hit the ball.

I love that when it was Stinkus's turn she would say, "Ok, focus, focus. . . " And then still not hit it the right way.

I love that they were playing together and that no one was throwing a hairbrush.

Afternoons aren't always like this, but these sweet moments remind me that we've given the girls the best gift ever for the future: each other.

Growing Up

Before I had kids, I knew it all. In all of my worldly experiences of observing other moms, I knew exactly what I would do (differently AND better of course) when it was my turn. Wow, is motherhood a crash course in humility. I've discovered that it's not nearly as easy as it looks and too often, there is no "right" way. And I soon learned the #1 rule: Don't ever judge another mother. Today, though, I have to say I'm breaking the rule.

I've just about had it with some parents on Facebook mourning the fact that their children are going to college. I've read that they're sick to their stomachs, the "sad" day they've dreaded is finally here, they can't bear to lose their babies. I don't get it. To be fair, I can't possibly relate to what they're going through. My kids are three and six and it's a "long" twelve years before we take Sassy to school (somehow we're a third of the way there. . . ) But on the flip side, I've never been one to mourn my girls growing up. When I was 14, I lost a brother at the age of 9 months (yes, my parents have done the unthinkable twice.) For the first year of Sassy's life, I was a nervous wreck. I can remember reaching her first birthday which isn't a guarantee at all, but it felt like I could breathe. Like she was "ok." We made it. A few years ago, I had to watch my brother and his wife bury their daughter at almost a month old. I get SO angry at people who mourn their children growing up when I know my family would give anything to see M and N do just that. Don't we want our kids to go to school, start driving, go to prom, leave for college? I don't understand why parents get so sad to see their kids become the people we want them to be.

My good friend K recently sent me this book because she said it made her think of me. I was SO touched. I LOVE it. The author talks about all of the things she would do if she could keep her child little, but then realizes all of the wonderful things she would miss if they didn't grow up. The last page says it all: "If I could keep you little, I'd keep you close to me. But then I'd miss you growing into who you're meant to be!"

I'm sure it is hard to face the next chapter of life when you've spent the last eighteen years together. And in twelve years I may be eating these words as I have a breakdown on the ride home (please let me wait until the ride home. . .) But I hope and pray that I maintain the same attitude I've had so far.

Last weekend, R and I had the honor of being my new niece's godparents. It was such a beautiful ceremony. The priest reminded us that with baptism, our children aren't ours--but God's. He then asked how many of us celebrate our baptismal dates. Crickets chirping. . . I had never thought about the significance of my baptismal date. He pointed out that it's more important than our day of birth because it's our day of RE-birth. I love the idea of celebrating this day--as E's godmother, I want to do something for her every year on August 18. It's the perfect day to acknowledge her without taking away from something her parents might want to do for her birthday or Christmas. Monsignor also chuckled when the holy water was poured over E's head and she let out a piercing cry--he shared that his grandmother used to say that was the devil coming out. And I kid you not, my lovely husband leaned over and whispered, "Did Stinkus cry?" HA! I love that guy.

It was such a beautiful day to remember that these little miracles are God's--we're just here to raise them, guide them, and show them His way. And when they turn eighteen, to let them GO. And rejoice that He gave us eighteen years with them. I hope that in twelve years, I'm posting on Facebook that it's time to celebrate. Time to celebrate my beautiful daughter leaving home to pursue her dreams and future. Time to celebrate that again while it's no guarantee, she made it. And time to celebrate that in just three more years, the house will be ours. ALL ours. :)

Our Summer-y Summary: Part 2

The last week of July we met up with Ryan's best friend from high school and his family who were nearby on vacation (love living near a trip destination!)  We had dinner and watched the light/fountain show and then let the kids go swimming at their condo.  It was great to see them.  Since meeting R, I have several special memories of B and H.  I remember holding their firstborn in 2000 and B was giving R a hard time about when he was going to bite the bullet.  Little did we know he was planning to propose the very next month!  :)  H was also one of the "lucky" ladies at our wedding who got smacked on the backside by my brother.  "Mrs. S, you are one hottie-patottie!"  HA! I can still hear him say that.  It was nice to catch up--I'm just sad that it doesn't happen more often.

That next weekend we headed to our home state for a family reunion.  My grandmother was one of eight and every two years, we join my mom's aunts, uncles, cousins, and cousins' kids for a weekend.  It's fun to see everyone but it's strange how much the family has changed.  The only ones left from my grandma's generation are her brother and sister, who are 94 and 96 (Grandma was in her 90s when she passed away--hope I get those genes!) And there are so many little ones!  One day, my siblings and I decided to take our families to the local water park.  It was a killer deal.  Our family of four got in for $18.  Total.  The girls had a blast and I'm sure there were some park goers who will never be the same after seeing some of us adults conquer the water slides.  I really didn't wear a thong although it may have appeared that way after going down. . .   ha!

We also had a joint birthday party since five of the seven grandkids have summer birthdays. It was a fun weekend. The reunion has become so much more to me since becoming a parent. I can remember having SUCH a hard time when I was younger trying to figure out who everyone was. It was hard to keep Mom's cousins straight and remember which cousins were from which aunt and uncle. Now it's tough for MY kids to wrap their heads around who MY cousins, aunts and uncles are. It's made it even more important to remember my grandma's generation when I realize that in a few more, it's MINE that may be forgotten.

The next weekend, we met up with another of R's high school friends and his family for a little vacation.  R has known A since they were born and it's been great to keep in touch with their brood.  Four kiddos 6 and under!  We met up in the city where R and I lived when we were first married, which felt a little weird. We're now tourists though!  :)  We stayed at a hotel with a mini-water park inside (one more water slide that altered the look of my suit. . . and NOT for the better!) and then took the kids to a major league baseball game and a new aquarium in town.  Sassy was totally into all the little "challenge questions" in the aquarium.  Reading has opened a whole new world to her!  It was fun to see the Ws--and our kids hit it off which is always fun to see.  Again, I wish we could see them more often!            

The girls also squeezed in about a week with each set of grandparents and they had a blast. We're blessed to have these four special people in our lives! I'm so grateful for the memories they're making together.

Needless to say, we had a busy summer. I was almost ready for school to start because it seemed like we needed a vacation from our vacation! Although now that I'm getting up every morning at 5:30, supervising homework, and trying to find time at night for everything that I used to spend all day doing, I'm missing my lounge chair at the lake. Lucky for me, another summer will be here before I know it!

We're OK

In 2008, my family lost my brother.  He was 28.  I know that it sounds cliche, but his death has left a huge void in our family.  I remember getting together for holidays after his death and scanning the room to do a mental head count:  1, 2, 3, 4, etc.  I was always shocked when everyone was there. Except for Matt.  It felt like half of us were missing.  It was just too quiet, too calm.

I know that we all take things for granted.  There's a reason for the saying: "Hindsight's 20/20."  We see things clearer as time goes by, and it's only in retrospect that we realize what we once had.  One of my biggest regrets in life is not being the sister I should have been to Matt.  I was the proverbial oldest sister.  The "mother hen" constantly nagging him to be appropriate and then being absolutely mortified when inevitably, he wasn't.  I wish I could go back and enjoy the moments he gave us.  Like high school graduation.  It wasn't enough for Matt to cross the stage and receive his diploma.  He had to pick the principal up (Matt was a BIG guy) and bounce him in a huge bear hug.  He celebrated my wedding by making the rounds at my reception and slapping all my friends on the rear.  For our other brother's college graduation, he sported the tiniest pair of Daisy Dukes EVER (Did I mention he was a big guy?) and a cowboy hat made out of Coor Light boxes.  He was truly the life of the party. 

In 2009, thirty years after Matt was born, my family gained Stinkus.  I've often said that it's like having a little piece of Matt here.  She's impulsive, funny, ornery, and uninhibited.  She loves to be the class clown, the center of attention, the life of the party.  Matt's favorite joke when he was little:  "What time is it when an elephant sits on a fence?"  I can't even tell you how many times I heard that joke.  Stinkus likes to tell one about a mailman hitting a cat.  Ask her.  She'll tell you.  :)  She's assumed her role as the one who makes us laugh and if anyone is upset, she sticks her little fingers in the corners of her mouth and sticks out her tongue to make her "silly face."  She doesn't understand if it doesn't work--"But I make you happy!"  I hate that she's already holding herself responsible for our happiness but I have to say that 99% of the time, she's successful.  :) 

This summer we've noticed a few new "Stinkus-isms."  One:  "I not gonna care."  Usually accompanied by a slight shrug of the shoulders.

"Stinkus, your shoes are on the wrong feet."
Shrug.  "I not gonna care."
"Stinkus, you have ketchup all over your face."
Shrug.  "I not gonna care."
"Stinkus, look up.  You still have shampoo in your hair."
Shrug.  "I not gonna care." 

You get the picture.  I'm both infuriated at her easy-come-easy-go attitude and jealous that I can't be more like her.  And once again, I see a little bit of my brother who was taken way too soon.

This past weekend, we traveled to a family reunion where tensions can sometimes run high and tempers can flare.  We were late.  In my mind I wanted to be at our day's destination hours before.  So I'm rushing around, growling and irritated, headed out the door with Stinkus on my hip.  And I hear her other recent Stinkus-ism: "It gonna be o-tay, Mom."  And I literally stopped in my tracks.  She's been saying this for a while now.  And there's nothing funnier than hearing a three year old remind me in the car:  "Take a deep bweff, Mom.  Just take a deep bweff.  It gonna be ooooo-tay."  But this particular day. . . maybe because I was with family, maybe because I again noticed the void in our bunch. . . . At that moment, I realized it was something Matt said all the time:  "It'll be O.K."  My dad even wanted it on his tombstone-- almost as if Matt is reassuring us from heaven.  I immediately teared up and marveled at how much this little person is like him.  I know that she'll never replace Matt--there's only one person who can pull off the Daisy Duke look--but it sure is nice having a little bit of his spirit here.  Maybe God is giving me another chance to cherish all those things that I used to chastise.  Maybe He realized that I needed someone in my life to tell me to take deep bweffs.  Maybe He's showing me that it's no big deal if you sport a little ketchup and extra shampoo.  It'll be O.K.                   

Our Summer-y Summary: Part 1

Ironically the summer that I was dreading the most ended up being one of the best yet. Somehow we've packed a lot into a little time off. Sass was right with her "most rockin' summer ever" description. I think the best part is that we've gotten to catch up with a LOT of friends and family. So much in fact, I told R that I'm nervous that something is going to happen to us--yes, this is really how my mind works sometimes. So if that's the case, I'm glad I got to see you!

The other great part about our summer is that SO much of it revolved around water. Isn't that what summer is all about?

In May, we camped with Grandma, Pop, Aunt B and Uncle S. The girls loved the beach and had a blast sleeping in the camper. . . Poor Mom and Dad had to be all alone in the tent. . And sleeping in? Ok, if we must. :) We also celebrated the girls' birthdays which worked out great. I don't think we ended up with ANY free weekends for a party!

Sand castles with Aunt B

Birthday cupcakes

June brought our camping "adventure" where the tent, as Stinkus puts it, melted. And Daddy went on a guys' weekend float trip but I don't seem to have any photos to share. Probably a good thing. :)

July got a little crazy. We went to my husband's hometown for Great Grandma's funeral and got to spend the 4th with family. The girls loved it. . . until one of the fireworks fell over and shot down the sidewalk where we were sitting. Twice. :) Hey, we were just trying to impress those cousins from Texas.

Snappers

We had five girlies 6 and under!

More water fun!

Then it was time to meet up with the "M Aunties" for the girls' first float trip. It was such a great time. And as we said more than once, we ate WELL. I'll have to remember some recipes the next time we camp! Like walking tacos!

With Auntie Mo and Auntie My in the "riffer!"

Auntie Monie and J aren't doing too much paddling. . . 

Dad's idea worked great!

We also did a day trip to a local state park and met up with some good friends who live a few hours away. It's the perfect halfway point. The kids can run around and climb on the playground or build castles out of dirt (yes, they tried. My girls really should have been boys some days. . . ) or play in the river. We're planning to do it again this fall so I'm excited to see them again!

Playing with W

Love this pic--one sister is shocked to be splashed and the other
(GUILTY) sister is enjoying it way too much! 

A few days later one of my best friends from college came to visit. It was so good to see her and her two boys. The girls were SO nervous because all they had were "girl" toys but after a short introduction to Barbies AND Polly Pocket, all their fears subsided.  I know C and J's daddy would be so proud. I love this pic of C! I think he was a bit embarrassed to be caught!

We took the kids to the nearby lake and spent the day. They had a blast. They built an "oasis" in the sand and swam, and it was SO good to catch up with S! We vowed not to let YEARS go by again!

Then we were off the next weekend to the lake to see my aunt, uncle, cousin and her family.  She has three boys and Sassy remarked:  "Not more boys!"  Let's hope she keeps that attitude for the next twenty years.  :)

J took the girls out on the Sea-Doo and they LOVED it.  Stinkus may or may not have thrown a few fits any time someone else was riding. . . 

It has been a few years since we've been to the lakehouse ("waterhouse" according to Stinkus) so it was really fun to see everyone.  And SO much easier than when Stinkus was a baby.  I need to remember this the next time I'm sad that I don't have a baby anymore.  Summers like this wouldn't be possible!

While I'd like to say we took it easy the last week of July, there's more summer to post.  Which will have to wait until another day.  The other great part of summer is getting plenty of couch time.  Which didn't happen. Until now.  :)

Lemonade Day

The last two times we've gone camping, it's rained overnight. I'm choosing to believe that this last time we stayed dry not because we were in the "better" (albeit smaller) Cabela's tent, but because it was a gentler, steadier, less tsunami-ish rain. At least that's what I'm believing. :) Sassy was pretty upset at the prospect of another storm last weekend so my sister told her that when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. (Of course, Hubby says he prefers Ron White's version of using your lemons to find someone whom life gave tequila. . .) It's a lesson that I struggle with, but as I've said before, it's something I want the girls to understand. "Lucky" for me, we got our chance yesterday.

Maybe we had it coming since it was our only Saturday in about eight weeks that we didn't have plans. So what do we do? Make plans. Why not jet down to the local amusement park for a few hours and let the girls ride? So we headed out. And the farther south we drove, the darker and darker it got. By the time we got there, it was maybe 70 degrees and it wasn't IF it would rain, but WHEN. So we headed to an indoor theater at the park for a show, hoping that an hour later, the weather would be better. The good news--it appeared to be holding off. So we rode the tea cups, and got on another ride. We were buckled up, ready to go and Stinkus pulls out the dreaded: "I have to pooooop. . . ." Ugggh. I asked if she could hold it, and she said her tummy hurt. And thankfully, a little voice whispered at me: GO. So I grabbed her and ran. This is where I should state that while I love the park, I've never understood why there are NO restrooms in the kid section. HELLO park engineers! And of course, the elephant ride is at the very END of the section. So I RAN. Not an easy task when you're carrying 35 extra pounds of weight, it's UPHILL, and there's apparently no limit on strollers and scooters. Seriously people, get out of my way! Stinkus said, "Oh no!" as I threw open the first stall and ripped her shorts down. . . right as I realized why my baby's tummy hurt. I'm already blogging about poop so I'm not sparing you the details. It splattered everywhere. Luckily because she's so newly potty trained, I had the good sense to pack an extra pair of shorts and panties. Which were in my backpack. Which was in a cubby at the elephant ride. I started to call R. . . and realized I didn't have my phone either. I had NO clue what to do with her or how to let R know that I needed the backpack. I was this close to wrapping some paper towels around her and heading out. Dear Park Engineers: If you won't build a closer bathroom, it's only fair to install a clothes dispenser. Size 4T please. I finally looked like a crazy woman and asked the moms at the sink if someone had a cell phone I could borrow. And of course, R didn't answer it because he didn't know the number. Luckily he listened to the voicemail, and in a few minutes, Sassy appeared--which scared me too because she's really too little to be sent in by herself, but I was desperate. A few moments later we were out the door, everything all cleaned up and minus a pair of Dora panties and purple shorts.

After just one ride all morning, we headed for home. The girls were disappointed but surprisingly, they were ok. I just couldn't risk it happening again--especially with no extra clothes. R came up with a great new advertising slogan: "Season Passes. . . in case your day is cut short when you poop yourself, you can come back again!" And we laughed SO hard. Then Stinkus got the saddest little look on her face, blinked her big eyelashes and said: "Sassy, I sorry you not get to wide your whoa-wer coaster," which made me cry. (God forbid when my children ever have real hurts--I hate to see them hurt!) But it was ok. We were making lemonade. I wasn't letting it ruin our day.

We stopped at one of our favorite Chinese restaurants on the way home. I got a great fortune: "Your troubles will soon cease and good fortune will smile upon you." It was partially right. My troubles weren't quite over. First, the ice cream machine at the buffet was broken. WHAT?! And apparently, if you run like a maniac through an amusement park carrying something the size of Stinkus, your legs are REALLY sore the next day. But in the true spirit of making lemonade, I needed to tone up a bit, right?

More Firsts and Lasts

I'm finding that life with kiddos means lots of firsts and lasts. This summer has been no exception:

We are still on our last box of diapers! I may have to get some Pull-ups for overnight when these are gone, but she's even doing pretty well with that.

Sassy has now lost her first TWO teeth. And not to steal the spotlight, but I'm pretty darn proud of my role each time. Yours truly who wouldn't dare pull her own teeth (hence the braces later in life. . .) pulled both of Sassy's loose teeth. It was pretty cool. She was SO excited and relieved, AND it helped my "Trust me, it will feel better when it's out" pep talk. I may not be right on much (especially as she gets older), but this time, I was the mom who knew something. I'll take it. :)

Sadly, Stinkus experienced her first funeral (and it was the first one Sassy remembers). We will miss Great Grandma, but we celebrate her 90 years here and the many lives she touched. She lost her husband during the Korean War, never remarried, and raised four kids by herself. It obviously wasn't the best of circumstances, but it was really nice to see so much family, and to see the girls play with R's cousins' kids. The next generation was pretty cute together.

And we're also adding to this generation. . . In June, we got to see cousin B become a big sister for the first time. The girls are in LOVE with Baby E.L. And she's SO pretty! Congrats to my sister and her beautiful family!!!

AND. . . the girls are getting their first cousin on R's side! Congrats to Aunt B and Uncle S! We're so excited to meet "Sonic" in December and know that they'll be wonderful parents.

Sassy had her last day of kindergarten which was surprisingly harder on me than the first. Watching her get on the bus for the last time as a kindergartner really choked me up. I think it's because everyone tells you how fast it goes--and how much faster it goes the older they get. Well, this year FLEW. And I got really upset wondering how on earth it could go any faster. Years from now, when she's pulling away in her own car, this is how I will see the first year of school--little legs and a Hello Kitty backpack. And darn it, I'm getting all teary again!

And we experienced summer school for the first time. She loved it, I made easy money, but I'm seriously bummed that my summer is just four weeks long. Sassy made me feel a little better one day when she said this was the "the most rockin' summer EVER!" I was like, Really? :( And then she went on to say that each weekend felt like a little summer. Oh happy heart. :) I'm reminding myself that it's quality vs. quantity, and that there are few parents who get a month off every summer let alone three. So we're making every minute--and memory--count. :)

One of the memories we made was the girls' first big float trip. We've taken them out in the kayaks and canoe quite a bit, but never for a 7 hour float. Three of my sisters and a boyfriend made the trek down and we hit the river. We had a blast and the girls were rock stars. They're at the age where life is just EASY. No diapers or feedings to mess with, they can hold certain bodily functions until we get to an outfitter on the river, they can shade themselves with umbrellas. It was great. I love that our girls love to camp and be on the water. I see a lot of this in our future summers!

It honestly has been a rockin' summer. I'm trying to forget that I'm back at work in three weeks. Instead, I'm wondering what firsts and lasts these next three weeks will bring--and remembering to cherish every moment.

Potty Mouth

I know that I'm going to sadly forget too many conversations with the girls.  So here's one that just happened in our household:

Me:  Stinkus, come here!
Stinkus:  (from the bathroom) Just a minute, Mom!  I gotta pee!
Me:  Ok.
Stinkus:  Atch-a-wee I gotta poop!
Me:  Ok, let me know when you're done and I'll come help (I'll spare you the details but based on experience, this one doesn't quite have wiping down yet.)
Stinkus:  Tanks, Mom, for giving me my pie-uh-see!
(HAHAHAHA!  A girl's gotta have her privacy!) 
Me:  No problem, Stinkus.
Stinkus:  Cuz my poop gonna stink bad!
Me: Ok, Stinkus. . .
Stinkus:  And it gonna be a-WOT of poop, Big Mama!  (Yes, she's started calling me Big Mama.)

And yes, I just blogged about pooping.  In this world, there really is NO pie-uh-see.  :)    

A Berry Special Six Year Old

I'm probably the only thirty-something mom NOT on Pinterest (but give it time--after all, I used to knock Facebook and blogs. . . )  I'm not an elementary teacher.  I'm not "theme-y."  I'm not crafty.  But for Sassy's birthday, I somehow channeled some Pinterest-worthy ideas.  It all started with her request for a cake--Strawberry Shortcake.  Inwardly, I cringed.  I think I mentioned that I'm over decorating cakes.  I think I've done it because I'm "supposed" to--other moms whip up these beautiful, extravagant cakes, by golly, I can too!  Except I can't. . . .  So I mentally said a few choice words and started figuring out where I could get a Strawberry Shortcake pan.  And then the heavens parted and I heard angels singing:  "No, Mom, REAL strawberry shortcake!  With like strawberries and whipped cream."  Woo hoo!  THAT I can do.  So I went online and found a cake from Pioneer Woman--which HAD to be good.  And good thing it was, because did I do a trial run?  Nah. . . .  let's just get up at 6 am the morning of and hope it works.  Luckily for me, it did.  Eat your heart out, Ree!  It turned out beautifully.  And it was crazy good.  Probably had something to do with the 2+ sticks of real butter, block of cream cheese, sour cream, 1 1/2 lbs of powdered sugar. . . .

So after she decided on a cake, I thought, Why not do a berry theme?  We had SO much fun thinking up ideas.  First, a few trips to Dollar Tree and Party City for party favors.  We found some really cute strawberry-shaped sunglasses and who knew there were so many strawberry-flavored treats out there?  We HAD to buy these.  Perfect for a Sassy party!!!

It was really fun to come up with red, green and/or pink party bag stuff.  Sassy was cracking me up though because sometimes she was a little TOO focused on colors.  "Mom, those are red!"  Yes, yes, they are but I doubt your guests will appreciate toilet brushes. . .  We ended up with some fun loot for their pots. . .  Pots. . . hee hee!  Maybe toilet brushes would have worked after all!

We went to the local park (aka FREE to use and FREE easy entertainment.)  We kept it small--in the past we've done mostly family parties but now that there are seven grandkids on my side and a new cousin due on R's, it's harder to get everyone together.  So she invited her best friends and their siblings. (Though we missed A who was out of town!)   

The girls played, ate pizza, and we even came up with two "berry" fun (groan, I know, sorry. . .) activities.  First, they used Paint Pens to paint their flower pots.  I was initially going to have a real strawberry plant inside for each girl to take home but then I realized this would require keeping it alive until the party plus they were a ton easier to paint empty.  I was shocked at how long they spent at the table.  Girls love crafts!!!

Sassy's finished pot

They also made their own Ziploc ice cream.  It was super yummy and fun, and no bowls required--they could just grab a spoon and eat it straight from the bag.  R helped get it ready the night before (rest assured that we didn't serve anything in the Bud Light cups. . . . just used them to hold the bags while he measured.)  

It was a really fun day.  I'm grateful that Sassy has such great friends (and they're pretty darn cute too!)  

Later that night, the four of us saw Brave in 3-D and Sassy chose Red Robin for dinner (Score! One of our faves too.  Plus Uncle S would be proud!)  It was a great day for our "berry" special six year old.  Happy Birthday, Sassy!