Yep, packed up the girls last night. Only thing they need are dresses for church and the baby’s shoes. I still hurts that they won’t be dressed alike more days, but alas what can you do. If I were rich, they would be. Where, oh, where is my debt free, orphaned George Clooney to marry, who only wants to add one boy to our crew?
I threw the girls’ shorts we aren’t taking into a drawer so the family is clear of shorts. My mother is beaming about all of this. Well on the inside of course. On the inside.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Jory packed - Check
Jory is officially packed for the ATL. Yes, I know what you’re saying, you don’t leave until June 30th so why is he packed by May 29th? An interesting dilemma came up.
My mom was complaining about how everyone was packed and had been packed for our family reunion and how I hadn’t even started.
When are you going to start packing?
You know time is approaching.
It will be the end of June shortly, look how quickly May went by.
I was like, are you kidding me? I didn’t say those exact words to her, but something to that effect. Can I concentrate on the here and now, not an event taking place over a month from now?
Why can’t you start packing for them?
I can’t pack for them because their shorts our in the garage, where they go every September until they stop wearing uniforms.
You know you have to get their suitcases out of the garage. When are you doing to do that?
I’m going to get the suitcases the same time I get the clothes out of the garage.
On and on it went. Finally I decided what was more important me digging my heels in on something not that important, cause part of me wanted to wait until the week before to pack, or me doing something to put my mother at ease. I went with the later. If it gave her peace if I packed TTT now, then that’s what I would do. I would show her love by giving into her insane idea. Does she not remember that this time last year we were coming back from Alaska and I didn’t pack a month in advance for TTT? No, she doesn’t remember that.
Sometimes I think she thinks three kids are overwhelming so whatever is overwhelming for her, must of course be overwhelming for me. Uh, hello, I wouldn’t have three kids if I thought I would be overwhelmed. I still remember very clearly having twin one-year-old daughters screaming as I dressed them for bed and knowing I was at my limit. But bygones.
On Sunday, I went out to the garage to pull out the container with the shorts in it, only to find that when my mom and Eric reorganized the garage they didn’t leave a clear path to get to the back of the garage. Are you kidding me?! As junky and as crowded as that garage has been with her two sets of patio furniture (it was such a good deal), the jeep, the motorcycle, the wagon, her dead baby daddy law books and fun reading books, furniture she can’t get rid of, paperwork and games I can’t get rid of, there was always a path to the containers in the back.
I reminded myself as to why I was doing this and persevered. TTT’s Oma came out and I just asked her to help me move some things and mentioned to her about the non-clear path to the containers. We move the few items and I was able to reach over and open the container on top, which should have been the shorts except it wasn’t. Nope, it was a Christmas container. So there was no clear path to the back of the garage and now the containers were out of order. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?! She went back in the house to see how many suitcases were in the house. I’m glad she did, I wasn’t a happy camper to see the containers were mixed up.
I stood there for a while, contemplating my next step. Do I stay the course? The goal was to show her love by putting her mind at ease by packing early. Or did I give up and go back in the house and say forget this. I wasn’t really in the mood to be in an awkward position while trying to find the right containers. I stood for another a minute. Then another. Then another. Then another. My back was starting to hurt, but I decided to stay the course. Gotta keep my eye on the prize. I found the container and after dumping them into several bags with Jory’s help, we took the clothes and sandals (I didn’t even remember that I saved last year’s sandals just in case they could still wear them.) inside the house. I took all the suitcases out and laid them out in the sun to get some air.
Much to her chagrin and par the course that if I don’t do things her way or the way she suggests then I’ve done them wrong, I didn’t wash the clothes. They were packed where nothing could get into them, and had fabric softener and pieces of zest in the containers. I felt they just need to be thrown in the dryer and put on air fluff for twenty minutes, so that’s what I did.
I decided to start with Jory, trying on the shorts I bought at the end of the summer on sale. Thank God for adjustable waists because Jory wouldn’t have been able to wear the majority of his new shorts. Even some of them have to go back out to the garage because the adjustable waist has some of his shorts look funky in the back with all the gathered material. My boy is getting taller not so much bigger. All of his new t-shirts still too big, no mediums for us yet, so they have to go back. Then I noticed that some of his new shorts were plaid and a lot of shirts are plaid, two sets of plaids that don’t match. When I marry well, after I design handbags, I’m going to design children’s clothes and just make them in solid colors, with no emblems on them or “cute” sayings or designs on them, just shirts and shorts in solid colors. Sometimes I just want to buy my kids’ a shirt in one solid color that’s it, nothing more, nothing less. But I digress.
Jory was mostly a trooper with all the clothes. Most of the clothes met with Oma’s approval, so we’re taking those. Sometimes the path of least resistances makes everyone’s lives so much smoother. I put his outfits together, he got his underwear, he’s really into this packing thing. I should have let him pack himself. Oh, there’s time for that when he’s older. I added a pair of swim trunks because Oma was freaking out a little at the thought of leaving them out. I thought it would be okay so he could switch off between trunks when he went to swimming lessons, but I had to keep the goal in mind so I let him choose which pair to put in the suitcase. Other than taking out an outfit to wear once we get to the hotter than a banshee Atlanta, my baby boy Jory is all finished. Tonight, on to the girls. I hate that I couldn’t find them more matching tops. On a trip and they are going to be dressed like two random girls. Thanks a lot Eve for making life so difficult.
My mom was complaining about how everyone was packed and had been packed for our family reunion and how I hadn’t even started.
When are you going to start packing?
You know time is approaching.
It will be the end of June shortly, look how quickly May went by.
I was like, are you kidding me? I didn’t say those exact words to her, but something to that effect. Can I concentrate on the here and now, not an event taking place over a month from now?
Why can’t you start packing for them?
I can’t pack for them because their shorts our in the garage, where they go every September until they stop wearing uniforms.
You know you have to get their suitcases out of the garage. When are you doing to do that?
I’m going to get the suitcases the same time I get the clothes out of the garage.
On and on it went. Finally I decided what was more important me digging my heels in on something not that important, cause part of me wanted to wait until the week before to pack, or me doing something to put my mother at ease. I went with the later. If it gave her peace if I packed TTT now, then that’s what I would do. I would show her love by giving into her insane idea. Does she not remember that this time last year we were coming back from Alaska and I didn’t pack a month in advance for TTT? No, she doesn’t remember that.
Sometimes I think she thinks three kids are overwhelming so whatever is overwhelming for her, must of course be overwhelming for me. Uh, hello, I wouldn’t have three kids if I thought I would be overwhelmed. I still remember very clearly having twin one-year-old daughters screaming as I dressed them for bed and knowing I was at my limit. But bygones.
On Sunday, I went out to the garage to pull out the container with the shorts in it, only to find that when my mom and Eric reorganized the garage they didn’t leave a clear path to get to the back of the garage. Are you kidding me?! As junky and as crowded as that garage has been with her two sets of patio furniture (it was such a good deal), the jeep, the motorcycle, the wagon, her dead baby daddy law books and fun reading books, furniture she can’t get rid of, paperwork and games I can’t get rid of, there was always a path to the containers in the back.
I reminded myself as to why I was doing this and persevered. TTT’s Oma came out and I just asked her to help me move some things and mentioned to her about the non-clear path to the containers. We move the few items and I was able to reach over and open the container on top, which should have been the shorts except it wasn’t. Nope, it was a Christmas container. So there was no clear path to the back of the garage and now the containers were out of order. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?! She went back in the house to see how many suitcases were in the house. I’m glad she did, I wasn’t a happy camper to see the containers were mixed up.
I stood there for a while, contemplating my next step. Do I stay the course? The goal was to show her love by putting her mind at ease by packing early. Or did I give up and go back in the house and say forget this. I wasn’t really in the mood to be in an awkward position while trying to find the right containers. I stood for another a minute. Then another. Then another. Then another. My back was starting to hurt, but I decided to stay the course. Gotta keep my eye on the prize. I found the container and after dumping them into several bags with Jory’s help, we took the clothes and sandals (I didn’t even remember that I saved last year’s sandals just in case they could still wear them.) inside the house. I took all the suitcases out and laid them out in the sun to get some air.
Much to her chagrin and par the course that if I don’t do things her way or the way she suggests then I’ve done them wrong, I didn’t wash the clothes. They were packed where nothing could get into them, and had fabric softener and pieces of zest in the containers. I felt they just need to be thrown in the dryer and put on air fluff for twenty minutes, so that’s what I did.
I decided to start with Jory, trying on the shorts I bought at the end of the summer on sale. Thank God for adjustable waists because Jory wouldn’t have been able to wear the majority of his new shorts. Even some of them have to go back out to the garage because the adjustable waist has some of his shorts look funky in the back with all the gathered material. My boy is getting taller not so much bigger. All of his new t-shirts still too big, no mediums for us yet, so they have to go back. Then I noticed that some of his new shorts were plaid and a lot of shirts are plaid, two sets of plaids that don’t match. When I marry well, after I design handbags, I’m going to design children’s clothes and just make them in solid colors, with no emblems on them or “cute” sayings or designs on them, just shirts and shorts in solid colors. Sometimes I just want to buy my kids’ a shirt in one solid color that’s it, nothing more, nothing less. But I digress.
Jory was mostly a trooper with all the clothes. Most of the clothes met with Oma’s approval, so we’re taking those. Sometimes the path of least resistances makes everyone’s lives so much smoother. I put his outfits together, he got his underwear, he’s really into this packing thing. I should have let him pack himself. Oh, there’s time for that when he’s older. I added a pair of swim trunks because Oma was freaking out a little at the thought of leaving them out. I thought it would be okay so he could switch off between trunks when he went to swimming lessons, but I had to keep the goal in mind so I let him choose which pair to put in the suitcase. Other than taking out an outfit to wear once we get to the hotter than a banshee Atlanta, my baby boy Jory is all finished. Tonight, on to the girls. I hate that I couldn’t find them more matching tops. On a trip and they are going to be dressed like two random girls. Thanks a lot Eve for making life so difficult.
If I would follow and believe
I was on the floor watching hulu while sorting through some papers and organizing, when I heard a noise. I looked up on the bed and there was an awake Layla. She started making some crying/grunting noises as she does sometimes when she first wakes up. She held out her arms and stood up. I was a slight distance away but I didn’t want to scoot over much less in case I ruin my piles, so I held my arms up for her to jump. And jump she did.
Without a second thought, without a “move closer, Mommy”, without a look of fear. She just stepped off the bed confident in the knowledge that I would catch her. I caught her and put her in my lap. I thanked God for giving me a daughter, for using her to remind of things I know. Why don’t I trust Him like that? When He says come, why don’t I just jump off the ledge with no fear, no doubt, no questions asked, just leap? He’s never dropped me yet, He never will. I so need to have faith like a child.
Without a second thought, without a “move closer, Mommy”, without a look of fear. She just stepped off the bed confident in the knowledge that I would catch her. I caught her and put her in my lap. I thanked God for giving me a daughter, for using her to remind of things I know. Why don’t I trust Him like that? When He says come, why don’t I just jump off the ledge with no fear, no doubt, no questions asked, just leap? He’s never dropped me yet, He never will. I so need to have faith like a child.
The BFF, Sarah
“Mommy, can Sarah come to our house and play with us?” Rowan asked.
Does a young woman just on the verge of adulthood want to come over and play with you? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind and doesn’t mind playing with you two, I thought, but didn’t say. “Sarah lives far away, but you do get to play with her after church, right?”
“Yes. I love Sarah,” she declared.
“I know.”
“She’s my best friend.”
“She’s my best friend, too,” the baby piped in.
I nodded my head. When did Sarah become everyone’s BFF? One day, several months ago, everything was Sarah this and Sarah that. I was like, who is Sarah? Sarah from church, I was informed. Oh, good that really narrows it down. Then one Sunday, I saw Rowan go up to her beloved Sarah to ask her if Sarah would push her. Yes, I knew who Sarah was.
Sarah is so gracious to those two. So kind and loving towards them. She pushes them on the swings, watches them play on the slide, lets them sit in her lap or next to her on the grass while they watch others play. She carries them around. A very nice young woman, I pray my three will have such patience with little one when they are older.
Does a young woman just on the verge of adulthood want to come over and play with you? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind and doesn’t mind playing with you two, I thought, but didn’t say. “Sarah lives far away, but you do get to play with her after church, right?”
“Yes. I love Sarah,” she declared.
“I know.”
“She’s my best friend.”
“She’s my best friend, too,” the baby piped in.
I nodded my head. When did Sarah become everyone’s BFF? One day, several months ago, everything was Sarah this and Sarah that. I was like, who is Sarah? Sarah from church, I was informed. Oh, good that really narrows it down. Then one Sunday, I saw Rowan go up to her beloved Sarah to ask her if Sarah would push her. Yes, I knew who Sarah was.
Sarah is so gracious to those two. So kind and loving towards them. She pushes them on the swings, watches them play on the slide, lets them sit in her lap or next to her on the grass while they watch others play. She carries them around. A very nice young woman, I pray my three will have such patience with little one when they are older.
Joy & Josh's Wedding
Yesterday, we went to the wedding of Joy and Josh’s. This is now the kids’ third wedding since right before Thanksgiving. I think they are wedding pros. We arrived late to a wedding that started right on time. Who does that?
We got good seats in the back. Well I thought they were good, but Rowan felt she couldn’t see the wedding party enough. A nice older woman behind us saw Rowan’s plight and offered to let Rowan sit next to her so that the five-year-old could sit at the edge of the pew, right next to the aisle. Rowan ditched the pew to sit on the floor next to the satin ribbon used to decorate the pews.
The girls thought the bride, Joy, looked beautiful, and she did. I thought I would have to keep Rowan away from her all night because she would want to be near the bride, but that was not the case because of her other BFF, Sarah. I’m not sure if Sarah, sister of the bride, knows she’s Rowan’s BFF and Layla’s, but mostly Rowan’s.
“Mommy, Sarah got married?” Rowan asked.
“No, Rowan. Her sister got married,” I informed her.
“Sarah is a pretty bride,” the baby commented.
“Baby, Sarah didn’t get married. Joy got married,” I corrected.
“Mommy, Sarah’s not busy, why can’t we play with her,” the girls asked.
“Because she’s a bridesmaid and she has to help the bride, so she doesn’t have time to play tonight.”
“Jory, where’s Rowan?” I asked after enjoying the warmth of the indoor reception space.
“Sarah’s holding her,” he responded, eyeing another go round with the delicious Jell-O. He loved, loved, love the Jell-O.
“Of course she is,” I mumbled as I walked outside to the patio to get my daughter.
We stood in line to congratulate the bride and groom. Joy was so gracious, hugging and kissing the girls. I live in fear that a shoe print will end up on the white dress, but it went off without a hitch. Though once again, the girls barely gave the groom a second look. I think it has to do with the clothing. The bride gets to wear a lovely, white dress and the groom just wears, what must be in their minds, a suit, which they see all the time, so he’s not nearly as cool as the bride.
It was a lovely wedding. It was great catching up and talking with friends. And the late night wedding led to the terrific trio falling asleep before I even got to the freeway. A perfect ending to a great night.
We got good seats in the back. Well I thought they were good, but Rowan felt she couldn’t see the wedding party enough. A nice older woman behind us saw Rowan’s plight and offered to let Rowan sit next to her so that the five-year-old could sit at the edge of the pew, right next to the aisle. Rowan ditched the pew to sit on the floor next to the satin ribbon used to decorate the pews.
The girls thought the bride, Joy, looked beautiful, and she did. I thought I would have to keep Rowan away from her all night because she would want to be near the bride, but that was not the case because of her other BFF, Sarah. I’m not sure if Sarah, sister of the bride, knows she’s Rowan’s BFF and Layla’s, but mostly Rowan’s.
“Mommy, Sarah got married?” Rowan asked.
“No, Rowan. Her sister got married,” I informed her.
“Sarah is a pretty bride,” the baby commented.
“Baby, Sarah didn’t get married. Joy got married,” I corrected.
“Mommy, Sarah’s not busy, why can’t we play with her,” the girls asked.
“Because she’s a bridesmaid and she has to help the bride, so she doesn’t have time to play tonight.”
“Jory, where’s Rowan?” I asked after enjoying the warmth of the indoor reception space.
“Sarah’s holding her,” he responded, eyeing another go round with the delicious Jell-O. He loved, loved, love the Jell-O.
“Of course she is,” I mumbled as I walked outside to the patio to get my daughter.
We stood in line to congratulate the bride and groom. Joy was so gracious, hugging and kissing the girls. I live in fear that a shoe print will end up on the white dress, but it went off without a hitch. Though once again, the girls barely gave the groom a second look. I think it has to do with the clothing. The bride gets to wear a lovely, white dress and the groom just wears, what must be in their minds, a suit, which they see all the time, so he’s not nearly as cool as the bride.
It was a lovely wedding. It was great catching up and talking with friends. And the late night wedding led to the terrific trio falling asleep before I even got to the freeway. A perfect ending to a great night.
That's So Rowan
“Mommy is Laura going to be at the wedding?” Rowan asked me as we were driving to Joy and Josh’s wedding.
“Laura? Who’s Laura?” I asked.
“Laura, my best friend,” she answered.
I don’t know anyone named Laura. Who is this little girl talking about? “Do you mean your cousin Lauren?”
“No, my best friend,” she continued.
“She means, Sarah, Mommy,” Jory interjected.
“No, not Sarah,” Rowan said emphatically. “What’s my best friend’s name, Mommy?”
Rowan likes to call everyone her best friend. So who could she be talking about. Hmmm. “Do you mean Lana?”
“Yes, my best friend, Lana. Is Lana going to be there?”
“No, she’s at home in Colorado, but Lana’s grandma will be there. I’ll show her to you, and you can ask her to tell Lana you said, ‘Hi.’ Okay?”
“Okay. Lana is my best friend, Mommy.”
“Yes, I know, Rowan.” Even if you do forget her name.
“Laura? Who’s Laura?” I asked.
“Laura, my best friend,” she answered.
I don’t know anyone named Laura. Who is this little girl talking about? “Do you mean your cousin Lauren?”
“No, my best friend,” she continued.
“She means, Sarah, Mommy,” Jory interjected.
“No, not Sarah,” Rowan said emphatically. “What’s my best friend’s name, Mommy?”
Rowan likes to call everyone her best friend. So who could she be talking about. Hmmm. “Do you mean Lana?”
“Yes, my best friend, Lana. Is Lana going to be there?”
“No, she’s at home in Colorado, but Lana’s grandma will be there. I’ll show her to you, and you can ask her to tell Lana you said, ‘Hi.’ Okay?”
“Okay. Lana is my best friend, Mommy.”
“Yes, I know, Rowan.” Even if you do forget her name.
The Avengers
Jory saw the brilliant Avengers written by the genius Joss Whedon. Jory saw it with Aunt Brenda and Vandy. And I saw it separately with my movie/TV buddy, Justin. I thought it was great and wondered if Jory thought it was too.
“I liked the Black Widow, the black guy- -“ he stated.
The black guy? Samuel L. Jackson is bad, but Jory’s never seen Pulp Fiction and won’t for at least another decade or so, so he doesn’t know where Samuel L.’s badness comes from. And while he was cool in The Avengers, I wasn’t sure how he did any superhero type stuff that Jory would rank him with the Black Widow. “The black guy?”
“Yeah, the one with the arrows.”
“Oh, Hawkeye.”
“Yes, Hawkeye. I liked him. And the Hulk. And Thor. He said, ‘I’m a god,’ then the Hulk threw him around. That was funny.”
My baby growing up with well written superhero movies.
“I liked the Black Widow, the black guy- -“ he stated.
The black guy? Samuel L. Jackson is bad, but Jory’s never seen Pulp Fiction and won’t for at least another decade or so, so he doesn’t know where Samuel L.’s badness comes from. And while he was cool in The Avengers, I wasn’t sure how he did any superhero type stuff that Jory would rank him with the Black Widow. “The black guy?”
“Yeah, the one with the arrows.”
“Oh, Hawkeye.”
“Yes, Hawkeye. I liked him. And the Hulk. And Thor. He said, ‘I’m a god,’ then the Hulk threw him around. That was funny.”
My baby growing up with well written superhero movies.
Score!
“Here you go, little baby,” Rowan sang as she handed the baby a toy in the bathtub.
“I’m not a baby,” Layla replied emphatically.
“Uh-huh, your name is Baby,” Rowan returned.
Point. Set. Match. Game. Score Rowan!
The baby did not respond, cause really what was she going to say.
“I’m not a baby,” Layla replied emphatically.
“Uh-huh, your name is Baby,” Rowan returned.
Point. Set. Match. Game. Score Rowan!
The baby did not respond, cause really what was she going to say.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Tough one
I signed the girls in after we walked through the doors of their school. I gave them hugs and kisses and then they went off to put up their sweaters and go play with their friends.
“That little one is a tough one,” their teacher said, as I headed towards the door.
I paused and looked at my baby. “Yes, she is.”
“I’m praying for you when she gets older.”
“Thank you,” I laughed. I definitely need the prayers now and then cause that baby, I suspect, is going to be a lot like her Oma, in her heyday. Stubborn, my way or no way. Yes, definitely need the prayers.
“That little one is a tough one,” their teacher said, as I headed towards the door.
I paused and looked at my baby. “Yes, she is.”
“I’m praying for you when she gets older.”
“Thank you,” I laughed. I definitely need the prayers now and then cause that baby, I suspect, is going to be a lot like her Oma, in her heyday. Stubborn, my way or no way. Yes, definitely need the prayers.
Spirl
A friend beautifully coined and defined the word “spoy” which is a combo of the word spoiled and the gender of the child that is spoiled, in her case a boy. Mine is spirl because Layla is so a spirl.
I was watching TV and placed Rowan across my lap as I watched. I was rubbing her back and fiddling with her hair as she slept peacefully, when I noticed the baby’s eyes were open. I tried to avoid direct eye contact because I knew she would want to be in Rowan’s position.
My avoidance was going well, until she sat up. Then she reached out her arms and I picked her up in my arms. I cradled her over Rowan’s body. I looked at her as she contently laid there and thought this is what you wanted the whole time for me to either move Rowan or cradle you. I kissed her lips and said, “Spirl.”
My very own spirl.
I was watching TV and placed Rowan across my lap as I watched. I was rubbing her back and fiddling with her hair as she slept peacefully, when I noticed the baby’s eyes were open. I tried to avoid direct eye contact because I knew she would want to be in Rowan’s position.
My avoidance was going well, until she sat up. Then she reached out her arms and I picked her up in my arms. I cradled her over Rowan’s body. I looked at her as she contently laid there and thought this is what you wanted the whole time for me to either move Rowan or cradle you. I kissed her lips and said, “Spirl.”
My very own spirl.
Had
I woke up to a trashcan next to the bed and a roll of tissue paper with tissue near the trashcan and some actually making it in. Jory. Crap, was he sick?
I wake him up, time to get dress, and he is dragging.
“Mommy, I don’t feel good. My nose keeps running.
” He does look sort of like death warmed over. Please God don’t let him get sick.
Before we walked out the door, I gave him some cough and cold medicine. I decided since he wasn’t feeling well, I needed him to rest and recuperate at daycare so no schoolwork. I dropped him off with his favorite Mickey to lie on as a pillow.
Fast forward hours- - “How did Jory do today?” I asked his daycare provider.
“He was fine. His nose ran some, but he was fine.”
He was fine?!?! The boy who couldn’t do his chores cause he was so sick. Who wanted Vick’s vapor rub on. That boy was fine. I had been had. He totally played me.
You know it
You know it
You know that you’ve been played
You’ve been played
You know that you've been played
I wake him up, time to get dress, and he is dragging.
“Mommy, I don’t feel good. My nose keeps running.
” He does look sort of like death warmed over. Please God don’t let him get sick.
Before we walked out the door, I gave him some cough and cold medicine. I decided since he wasn’t feeling well, I needed him to rest and recuperate at daycare so no schoolwork. I dropped him off with his favorite Mickey to lie on as a pillow.
Fast forward hours- - “How did Jory do today?” I asked his daycare provider.
“He was fine. His nose ran some, but he was fine.”
He was fine?!?! The boy who couldn’t do his chores cause he was so sick. Who wanted Vick’s vapor rub on. That boy was fine. I had been had. He totally played me.
You know it
You know it
You know that you’ve been played
You’ve been played
You know that you've been played
Selective interpretation at its finest
“Mommy, if we eat our food all we can have these?” the baby asked holding up my beloved crack- - chocolate covered edamames. (They are pure crack.) “I found them in the fridgerator.”
“You found them in the refrigerator?” How do you find something in the place its supposed to be? Next she’ll be telling me Christopher Columbus discovered America or an island that already had people living on it, with their own language, culture, and civilization. “You didn’t find them, they were in the refrigerator.”
“No, I found them.”
I’m just going to let it go. “I’ll think about it.”
She ran off. “Guys, Mommy said, we could have these after we eat lunch- -“
“Layla, is that what I said?”
“You found them in the refrigerator?” How do you find something in the place its supposed to be? Next she’ll be telling me Christopher Columbus discovered America or an island that already had people living on it, with their own language, culture, and civilization. “You didn’t find them, they were in the refrigerator.”
“No, I found them.”
I’m just going to let it go. “I’ll think about it.”
She ran off. “Guys, Mommy said, we could have these after we eat lunch- -“
“Layla, is that what I said?”
His first funeral?
This was not a good week or rather the week before was not a good week to be friends with my family. My mom went to a funeral on Monday, Wednesday, and on Friday. All of the deceased were friends of the family. And good friends to get my mom to go.
The first funeral was for Uncle L.C. For the last twenty years or so, he was my aunt’s boarder. He was an honorary, hence his title, member of our family. Right before Thanksgiving, the doctor gave him six months to a year. God granted him six months and a day.
I don’t think I ever had a prolonged conversation with him. But what I will remember most about him is how much he loved his sisters. How he had a real relationship with them. I can count on one hand the number of times my uncles have called my house to talk to their sister in the last year- - last two really. For every three of my calls or emails, I might get one return call or email from Mort. So Uncle L.C. will always stick out for showing me men can maintain relationships with their siblings, even siblings of the opposite gender. He helped out his sister who ended married to a loser who left her with six kids. He visited and even wanted to leave her his Mercedes in his will, so she could have a dependable car. His sister appreciated the gesture, but knew she couldn’t afford the upkeep. I was so impressed that even on his deathbed, he was thinking of practical ways he could help his sisters. I pray that Jory has a real relationship with his sisters.
My mom asked if she could take Jory with her to the funeral. When Jory stayed with my aunt, she would sometimes leave Jory with Uncle L.C. while she went out to run errands, etc…I thought maybe Jory’s first funeral should be one that I attended too. Then I realized this was actually his third funeral. He really hit up the cross country funeral circuit that first year of life. I told her yes.
When I arrived at my aunt’s after the service, I asked him about it. Did he know where Uncle L. C. was?
“He was in a box, a coffin, at the front of the church and they closed it. They nailed it shut.”
“Dude, they closed it, but they didn’t nail it shut. What else?”
“Then he went to heaven with God.”
Since we were going the complete, over your head, honesty route, I decided to keep it up. “He went to heaven if he believed that Jesus died on the cross for his sins and rose again, and accepted Jesus into his heart. If he did that, then yes, he is in heaven right now with God. Anything else happened?”
“They put him in the ground.” The end.
That was an accurate description. So his first funeral of memory went well.
The first funeral was for Uncle L.C. For the last twenty years or so, he was my aunt’s boarder. He was an honorary, hence his title, member of our family. Right before Thanksgiving, the doctor gave him six months to a year. God granted him six months and a day.
I don’t think I ever had a prolonged conversation with him. But what I will remember most about him is how much he loved his sisters. How he had a real relationship with them. I can count on one hand the number of times my uncles have called my house to talk to their sister in the last year- - last two really. For every three of my calls or emails, I might get one return call or email from Mort. So Uncle L.C. will always stick out for showing me men can maintain relationships with their siblings, even siblings of the opposite gender. He helped out his sister who ended married to a loser who left her with six kids. He visited and even wanted to leave her his Mercedes in his will, so she could have a dependable car. His sister appreciated the gesture, but knew she couldn’t afford the upkeep. I was so impressed that even on his deathbed, he was thinking of practical ways he could help his sisters. I pray that Jory has a real relationship with his sisters.
My mom asked if she could take Jory with her to the funeral. When Jory stayed with my aunt, she would sometimes leave Jory with Uncle L.C. while she went out to run errands, etc…I thought maybe Jory’s first funeral should be one that I attended too. Then I realized this was actually his third funeral. He really hit up the cross country funeral circuit that first year of life. I told her yes.
When I arrived at my aunt’s after the service, I asked him about it. Did he know where Uncle L. C. was?
“He was in a box, a coffin, at the front of the church and they closed it. They nailed it shut.”
“Dude, they closed it, but they didn’t nail it shut. What else?”
“Then he went to heaven with God.”
Since we were going the complete, over your head, honesty route, I decided to keep it up. “He went to heaven if he believed that Jesus died on the cross for his sins and rose again, and accepted Jesus into his heart. If he did that, then yes, he is in heaven right now with God. Anything else happened?”
“They put him in the ground.” The end.
That was an accurate description. So his first funeral of memory went well.
His first funeral
Jory’s first funeral was his great uncle’s/great great uncle’s funeral. He was seven-months-old when I decided at the eleventh hour that he and I should go to my grandfather’s last remaining sibling/my grandma’s last remaining uncle’s funeral. (My grandma and her aunt married two brothers.)
It was his first plane ride and he did well, then we landed in that humid, hotter than a banjee heat of Jacksonville. I realize now how gracious God was because there is nothing I hate more than people touching me when I’m hot. It was hot there and humid, yet I don’t have any memories of trying to carry him in his car seat every place we went.. He did great at the service and at the gravesite.
The only thing that stood out in my mind was my Aunt Sister, my grandma’s sister, came up to me and my mom at the cemetery as we walked to the gravesite.
Holding my adorable baby boy, she commented on how beautiful he was. He totally was and is. And how he looked like Penny Pop. My mom and I looked at each other and smiled. I nodded my head in thanks. Penny Pop was what everyone called my grandma’s dad. We’re all at the very least twentieth cousins so technically Jory could resemble Penny Pop in some fashion, though from the pictures I’ve seen Penny Pop looks like a brown skinned Indian to me with long dark hair, but that’s just me. She would know better, it was her father after all.
His second funeral was a sad one. He flew like a champ again, but this time to Louisiana to his Uncle Leonard’s funeral. The uncle who had only seen him in pictures, heard about him via stories Mona would tell him, was dead before the age of 40. Car vs. motorcycle and his motorcycling uncle lost.
I’ll admit it at the funeral home, I thought about putting him in the coffin next to Leonard so I could at least get one picture of them together. Other than being devoid of facial hair, which I had never seen Leonard without, Leonard looked the same, looked like he was sleeping. My mother thought that hadn’t set his neck right and it looked off in the coffin, I didn’t see that I don’t think I could get over the clean shaven face. But my mom took Jory from my arms when I went to view Leonard’s body, so I guess I’ll never know if I really would have put him down next to Leonard. Cropped correctly no one would have ever known.
I guess this wasn’t really his second funeral because my mom didn’t go to the funeral, I think it was too much for her, so she stayed at Mona’s with Jory and a sick Austin, who I remember praying didn’t infect my healthy baby.
It was his first plane ride and he did well, then we landed in that humid, hotter than a banjee heat of Jacksonville. I realize now how gracious God was because there is nothing I hate more than people touching me when I’m hot. It was hot there and humid, yet I don’t have any memories of trying to carry him in his car seat every place we went.. He did great at the service and at the gravesite.
The only thing that stood out in my mind was my Aunt Sister, my grandma’s sister, came up to me and my mom at the cemetery as we walked to the gravesite.
Holding my adorable baby boy, she commented on how beautiful he was. He totally was and is. And how he looked like Penny Pop. My mom and I looked at each other and smiled. I nodded my head in thanks. Penny Pop was what everyone called my grandma’s dad. We’re all at the very least twentieth cousins so technically Jory could resemble Penny Pop in some fashion, though from the pictures I’ve seen Penny Pop looks like a brown skinned Indian to me with long dark hair, but that’s just me. She would know better, it was her father after all.
His second funeral was a sad one. He flew like a champ again, but this time to Louisiana to his Uncle Leonard’s funeral. The uncle who had only seen him in pictures, heard about him via stories Mona would tell him, was dead before the age of 40. Car vs. motorcycle and his motorcycling uncle lost.
I’ll admit it at the funeral home, I thought about putting him in the coffin next to Leonard so I could at least get one picture of them together. Other than being devoid of facial hair, which I had never seen Leonard without, Leonard looked the same, looked like he was sleeping. My mother thought that hadn’t set his neck right and it looked off in the coffin, I didn’t see that I don’t think I could get over the clean shaven face. But my mom took Jory from my arms when I went to view Leonard’s body, so I guess I’ll never know if I really would have put him down next to Leonard. Cropped correctly no one would have ever known.
I guess this wasn’t really his second funeral because my mom didn’t go to the funeral, I think it was too much for her, so she stayed at Mona’s with Jory and a sick Austin, who I remember praying didn’t infect my healthy baby.
Why doesn't she want any teeth?
If Rowan could explain to me why she doesn’t want to have teeth when she turns 15, it would make my life so much easier. I might not like her answer, but at least there would be a reason behind the non-tooth brushing that goes on now.
How is it that the only time she itches, needs to rub, needs to scratch, needs to sneeze, needs to twirl her hair, is when she’s brushing her teeth? She can be in the bathroom for twenty minutes “brushing” and come out with toothpaste still on her toothbrush.
The non-brushing is pushing me towards the edge. I’ve used every technique to get to brush like a big girl. We’ve brushed together. We’ve made a game out of it. She’s been punished. She’s been offered rewards. We sing songs. She gets to copy her brother and sister. How is it that baby brushes better than her? I’ve tried explaining about bad breath. All to no avail. She acts like she cares, that she desperately wants to get rid of the bad food monsters in her teeth, but it’s just an act because two seconds after she starts she has to stop to scratch, rub, and suck her thumb.
Maybe it’s her way to drive me stark raving mad, if so she is succeeding in spades.
How is it that the only time she itches, needs to rub, needs to scratch, needs to sneeze, needs to twirl her hair, is when she’s brushing her teeth? She can be in the bathroom for twenty minutes “brushing” and come out with toothpaste still on her toothbrush.
The non-brushing is pushing me towards the edge. I’ve used every technique to get to brush like a big girl. We’ve brushed together. We’ve made a game out of it. She’s been punished. She’s been offered rewards. We sing songs. She gets to copy her brother and sister. How is it that baby brushes better than her? I’ve tried explaining about bad breath. All to no avail. She acts like she cares, that she desperately wants to get rid of the bad food monsters in her teeth, but it’s just an act because two seconds after she starts she has to stop to scratch, rub, and suck her thumb.
Maybe it’s her way to drive me stark raving mad, if so she is succeeding in spades.
Stroller Days
We were going to the mall and I quickly went into my mom’s car and got the double stroller. As Jory was pushing the girls in JCP, his push came to a grinding halt.
“Stop it, baby! You’re making the stroller stop,” Jory exclaimed.
I took a look and sure enough she was pushing her foot down on the front brake. I told her to stop and then it hit me - - her legs are long enough to do that, then this means this upcoming family trip will probably be the last with the stroller. What will I do without it? With Rowan the runner. Layla the crazy. And Jory the big brother who is self-appointed to go look for them. UGH! Do they make bigger double strollers? I’ll have to look into that.
“Stop it, baby! You’re making the stroller stop,” Jory exclaimed.
I took a look and sure enough she was pushing her foot down on the front brake. I told her to stop and then it hit me - - her legs are long enough to do that, then this means this upcoming family trip will probably be the last with the stroller. What will I do without it? With Rowan the runner. Layla the crazy. And Jory the big brother who is self-appointed to go look for them. UGH! Do they make bigger double strollers? I’ll have to look into that.
Da Bears! Da Train!
We watched the train being built and Jory excitedly wanted to know when they were finish if we could ride it. Yes, the train, that would one day take you from Downtown to the beach, would be ridden by us once they finish. After more delays then I could begin to imagine, I heard they were opening from a co-worker. I looked it up on the internet and read the press release. There would be booths, music, free stuff, a mime, and most importantly a magician with a cat. Yep, you read that correctly, a magician with a cat. SCORE!
Thankfully the first weekend was free to ride. The train started rolling at 5AM. I knew Jory would have loved to have been the first riding the train, but if there were no big events going on then I figured we could sleep in.
We picked up Aunt Brenda and off we went at where the train began at La Cienega near the new Target aka the Fedco site (man, I miss Fedco). I wasn’t sure where to park, so I just parked at Aunt Carol’s and walked the two blocks over, after dropping the family off in front of the train depot. As soon as I got up with them, who did I see. That’s right - - the magician with a cat. SCORE! I took a picture. I never saw him do magic nor did I see the cat do magic, but I saw a dude with a magician hat on with a cat lying on his shoulders. We can now move on to the next thing, now that I saw that awesome duo. A magician with a cat? Who thought of booking them? Genius!
We went into the underground parking to see all the free stuff they had, like if I spent $25 on catering from Subway I could get a free plate of cookies. Deal! There were a lot of bowties for sale, not sure if bowties are making a comeback or if they were prepping for prom and wedding season. They did have a lot of free literature mostly about the train line. The kids got free slap bracelets that warned them to be careful when crossing the railroad tracks. Those slap bracelets became a big hit as the day went on.
There was a small bus roaming around with moving eyes. Everyone tried to get their kid to take a picture with it. Jory didn’t want to take a picture with it, but he was curious how it was moving and wondering if it was a robot.
After this excitement, Jory, Layla, and I went up the wrong flight of stairs to get to the overhead train, but boy did my legs get a good workout. We found the right set of stairs and up went and on the train we hopped. Jory sat by a window with Oma, the baby sat on my lap and behind us Rowan and Aunt Brenda.
Jory loved it. I thought it felt like a train ride and I realized when we stepped onto it I really missed hearing, “Mind the gap.” Those British in some ways really have their act together. As always with public transportation, you meet, hear, and see interesting characters. At one point, I’m pretty sure my mom was trying to explain to Jory that the laughing man sitting in front of them was sick. The elevator definitely wasn’t going to the top floor, but it was going up enough that someone was letting him ride the train by himself. I think that conversation was utterly and completely over Jory’s head. He saw a man who liked to laugh.
The train stopped at every stop though you couldn’t get off at every stop, then finally we made it to the last stop in Downtown LA. Here, they had karaoke, vendors, free stuff. Yeah, their free stuff was the same free crap at the beginning of the line. And these vendors were selling jewelry so we made good time weaving through the tables, until we saw a converted camper being used as a stage for some dance interpretation. I stopped, I figured it would be good to expose the kids to it. It was interesting and truly amazing what they were able to pull off in such a little space. After the performance was over, we kept trekking on.
I saw the karaoke stage, it was empty. The festivities were nearing the end and there was no one at the tables. The upscale roach coaches were selling meals starting at $10, so obviously they weren’t meant for us to eat at. But we did see a Coke booth and a long line. So I got in line, they were giving away free Cokes why not. Then a man came up to my mom and said, “Come over here.” We thought he was cutting in line, but when we watched him, we realized we were standing in line to spin the wheel in order to get a free Coke or Coke product, but there was no line to walk up to the workers and ask for a Coke, so we got of the spin line and grabbed a warm Coke. The kids got some fruit juice/energy drink, except I didn’t see any bathrooms and I was worried about little bladder Layla having anything to drink. But it was a fun day, so I let her have a few sips.
One little nine or ten-year-old girl dressed sort of punkish got up on the stage and belted out a few hits. I thought about doing it, but it was too open, too public. It was time to go home. So we walked the block back to get on the train, only to be told that this was the exit only route, we had to walk back to the other side of the block in order to get back home. We can walk off the Coke, so off we went, back on the train, where I was informed no open cans on the train. Bye warm Coke my parched tongue appreciated you for the little while we were together. On the way home, Jory put together the paper trains and buses, he got for free and he was more interested in that then watching us travel back home.
We got back to where it all began and all the booths and the magician with a cat were gone. We got lunch/dinner from a pizza place, then went back to Aunt Brenda’s and had an impromptu picnic. A good day had by all and now I never have to ride that pointless train again, unless my beloved DC Talk was playing at the Staple Center.
Thankfully the first weekend was free to ride. The train started rolling at 5AM. I knew Jory would have loved to have been the first riding the train, but if there were no big events going on then I figured we could sleep in.
We picked up Aunt Brenda and off we went at where the train began at La Cienega near the new Target aka the Fedco site (man, I miss Fedco). I wasn’t sure where to park, so I just parked at Aunt Carol’s and walked the two blocks over, after dropping the family off in front of the train depot. As soon as I got up with them, who did I see. That’s right - - the magician with a cat. SCORE! I took a picture. I never saw him do magic nor did I see the cat do magic, but I saw a dude with a magician hat on with a cat lying on his shoulders. We can now move on to the next thing, now that I saw that awesome duo. A magician with a cat? Who thought of booking them? Genius!
We went into the underground parking to see all the free stuff they had, like if I spent $25 on catering from Subway I could get a free plate of cookies. Deal! There were a lot of bowties for sale, not sure if bowties are making a comeback or if they were prepping for prom and wedding season. They did have a lot of free literature mostly about the train line. The kids got free slap bracelets that warned them to be careful when crossing the railroad tracks. Those slap bracelets became a big hit as the day went on.
There was a small bus roaming around with moving eyes. Everyone tried to get their kid to take a picture with it. Jory didn’t want to take a picture with it, but he was curious how it was moving and wondering if it was a robot.
After this excitement, Jory, Layla, and I went up the wrong flight of stairs to get to the overhead train, but boy did my legs get a good workout. We found the right set of stairs and up went and on the train we hopped. Jory sat by a window with Oma, the baby sat on my lap and behind us Rowan and Aunt Brenda.
Jory loved it. I thought it felt like a train ride and I realized when we stepped onto it I really missed hearing, “Mind the gap.” Those British in some ways really have their act together. As always with public transportation, you meet, hear, and see interesting characters. At one point, I’m pretty sure my mom was trying to explain to Jory that the laughing man sitting in front of them was sick. The elevator definitely wasn’t going to the top floor, but it was going up enough that someone was letting him ride the train by himself. I think that conversation was utterly and completely over Jory’s head. He saw a man who liked to laugh.
The train stopped at every stop though you couldn’t get off at every stop, then finally we made it to the last stop in Downtown LA. Here, they had karaoke, vendors, free stuff. Yeah, their free stuff was the same free crap at the beginning of the line. And these vendors were selling jewelry so we made good time weaving through the tables, until we saw a converted camper being used as a stage for some dance interpretation. I stopped, I figured it would be good to expose the kids to it. It was interesting and truly amazing what they were able to pull off in such a little space. After the performance was over, we kept trekking on.
I saw the karaoke stage, it was empty. The festivities were nearing the end and there was no one at the tables. The upscale roach coaches were selling meals starting at $10, so obviously they weren’t meant for us to eat at. But we did see a Coke booth and a long line. So I got in line, they were giving away free Cokes why not. Then a man came up to my mom and said, “Come over here.” We thought he was cutting in line, but when we watched him, we realized we were standing in line to spin the wheel in order to get a free Coke or Coke product, but there was no line to walk up to the workers and ask for a Coke, so we got of the spin line and grabbed a warm Coke. The kids got some fruit juice/energy drink, except I didn’t see any bathrooms and I was worried about little bladder Layla having anything to drink. But it was a fun day, so I let her have a few sips.
One little nine or ten-year-old girl dressed sort of punkish got up on the stage and belted out a few hits. I thought about doing it, but it was too open, too public. It was time to go home. So we walked the block back to get on the train, only to be told that this was the exit only route, we had to walk back to the other side of the block in order to get back home. We can walk off the Coke, so off we went, back on the train, where I was informed no open cans on the train. Bye warm Coke my parched tongue appreciated you for the little while we were together. On the way home, Jory put together the paper trains and buses, he got for free and he was more interested in that then watching us travel back home.
We got back to where it all began and all the booths and the magician with a cat were gone. We got lunch/dinner from a pizza place, then went back to Aunt Brenda’s and had an impromptu picnic. A good day had by all and now I never have to ride that pointless train again, unless my beloved DC Talk was playing at the Staple Center.
No more Mr. Nice Guy
I tried to be nice, tried to be the good guy, but I would take a peek at Rowan and there she was with her eye patch sitting above her eye while she played, read, colored, watched TV, or just sitting in her car seat chilaxin’. I tried to explain to her why she needed to wear it. Her teacher tried to explain it to her, but to no avail. So I had to pull out the big guns.
We went to CVS and I looked for eye band aids, like the kind we got from the doctor. We didn’t find any so after opening some boxes, causes inches and diameters mean nothing to me, we hit upon a size that would work with a little snip work for me.
We did this for a while. I knew Rowan didn’t like it, but getting her eye strong is more important than her like or dislike of the band aid. Then we ran out and I thought, she’s learned, she doesn’t need any more band aids. Oh, what a foolish woman, I was. She went right back to the same behaviors, so the big guns are permanently out. Band-Aids on the eye until the doctor says her eye is strong.
We went to CVS and I looked for eye band aids, like the kind we got from the doctor. We didn’t find any so after opening some boxes, causes inches and diameters mean nothing to me, we hit upon a size that would work with a little snip work for me.
We did this for a while. I knew Rowan didn’t like it, but getting her eye strong is more important than her like or dislike of the band aid. Then we ran out and I thought, she’s learned, she doesn’t need any more band aids. Oh, what a foolish woman, I was. She went right back to the same behaviors, so the big guns are permanently out. Band-Aids on the eye until the doctor says her eye is strong.
More than three years
of church, Children’s church, AWANA, Sunday School, family devotionals, Bible history to get…
“Jesus died for Christmas. They laughed at him. The bad men hung him on the cross.”
“And He ro – ro – ro – ros – “ Aunt Brenda started.
“He rolled and rolled and rolled in the blanket like Marion at school.”
In just a little over three years, my baby has the whole death and resurrection of Christ down pat.
“Jesus died for Christmas. They laughed at him. The bad men hung him on the cross.”
“And He ro – ro – ro – ros – “ Aunt Brenda started.
“He rolled and rolled and rolled in the blanket like Marion at school.”
In just a little over three years, my baby has the whole death and resurrection of Christ down pat.
Words you don't want to hear
Jory comes out of the bathroom walking funny and not in his usual crawling, half-crawling, goofy walk sort of way, but in a “I’m hurt” sort of way.
“Jory, why are you walking like that?”
“My bottom’s bleeding.”
Whoa! Wait, a minute. “What did you just say?”
“My bottom’s bleeding.”
I got up from the sofa and steered him right back into the bathroom. I pulled down his pajama pants and underwear and saw tissue paper stuck to his bottom. He’s not bleeding from his anus, a terrifying thought that did cross my mind for a millisecond, but from his cheek. “What happened?”
“I scratched myself in the tub.”
How do you scratch yourself on the bottom of a fiberglass tub? I looked at his sore, looked in the tub which was amazingly toy free. Then that’s when it hit me, the stopper. We have the kind that screws in and out. “You have to be careful when taking the stopper out, you can hurt yourself with it, okay?”
“Okay, I’ll be careful,” he promised.
I put the tissue back on his sore, helped him redress, and then walked out the bathroom with a sigh of relief. You just never want to hear your child say bleeding and bottom in the same sentence.
“Jory, why are you walking like that?”
“My bottom’s bleeding.”
Whoa! Wait, a minute. “What did you just say?”
“My bottom’s bleeding.”
I got up from the sofa and steered him right back into the bathroom. I pulled down his pajama pants and underwear and saw tissue paper stuck to his bottom. He’s not bleeding from his anus, a terrifying thought that did cross my mind for a millisecond, but from his cheek. “What happened?”
“I scratched myself in the tub.”
How do you scratch yourself on the bottom of a fiberglass tub? I looked at his sore, looked in the tub which was amazingly toy free. Then that’s when it hit me, the stopper. We have the kind that screws in and out. “You have to be careful when taking the stopper out, you can hurt yourself with it, okay?”
“Okay, I’ll be careful,” he promised.
I put the tissue back on his sore, helped him redress, and then walked out the bathroom with a sigh of relief. You just never want to hear your child say bleeding and bottom in the same sentence.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Letter from a mother to her daughter
"My dear girl, the day you see I’m getting old, I ask you to please be patient, but most of all, try to understand what I’m going through. If when we talk, I repeat the same thing a thousand times, don’t interrupt to say: “You said the same thing a minute ago”... Just listen, please. Try to remember the times when you were little and I would read the same story night after night until you would fall asleep.
When I don’t want to take a bath, don’t be mad and don’t embarrass me. Remember when I had to run after you making excuses and trying to get you to take a shower when you were just a girl?
When you see how ignorant I am when it comes to new technology, give me the time to learn and don’t look at me that way... remember, honey, I patiently taught you how to do many things like eating appropriately, getting dressed, combing your hair and dealing with life’s issues every day... the day you see I’m getting old, I ask you to please be patient, but most of all, try to understand what I’m going through.
If I ocasionally lose track of what we’re talking about, give me the time to remember, and if I can’t, don’t be nervous, impatient or arrogant. Just know in your heart that the most important thing for me is to be with you.
And when my old, tired legs don’t let me move as quickly as before, give me your hand the same way that I offered mine to you when you first walked. When those days come, don’t feel sad... just be with me, and understand me while I get to the end of my life with love.
I’ll cherish and thank you for the gift of time and joy we shared. With a big smile and the huge love I’ve always had for you, I just want to say, I love you... my darling daughter."
When I don’t want to take a bath, don’t be mad and don’t embarrass me. Remember when I had to run after you making excuses and trying to get you to take a shower when you were just a girl?
When you see how ignorant I am when it comes to new technology, give me the time to learn and don’t look at me that way... remember, honey, I patiently taught you how to do many things like eating appropriately, getting dressed, combing your hair and dealing with life’s issues every day... the day you see I’m getting old, I ask you to please be patient, but most of all, try to understand what I’m going through.
If I ocasionally lose track of what we’re talking about, give me the time to remember, and if I can’t, don’t be nervous, impatient or arrogant. Just know in your heart that the most important thing for me is to be with you.
And when my old, tired legs don’t let me move as quickly as before, give me your hand the same way that I offered mine to you when you first walked. When those days come, don’t feel sad... just be with me, and understand me while I get to the end of my life with love.
I’ll cherish and thank you for the gift of time and joy we shared. With a big smile and the huge love I’ve always had for you, I just want to say, I love you... my darling daughter."
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Baby of Mine
When Layla learned how to walk, somehow we started this little game. She’d walk away from me, then I would open my arms and squat and she would walk/toddle/run back into my arms and wrap those little arms around my neck.
Sunday, after I picked her up from daycare, she ran ahead of me. She paused and then turned to look for me. I opened my arms and those little feet started running towards me. I squatted down and captured my baby in my arms when she reached me. I hugged her and kissed her. Oh, how I love this baby of mine.
Sunday, after I picked her up from daycare, she ran ahead of me. She paused and then turned to look for me. I opened my arms and those little feet started running towards me. I squatted down and captured my baby in my arms when she reached me. I hugged her and kissed her. Oh, how I love this baby of mine.
Mornings with the kids
Everyone was ready and we were walking out the door. The girls headed out the door first, while Jory left to go open the gate. I reached for my keys on the table, but they weren’t there. I checked my purse, they weren’t there. Hmm, that’s odd. I perused all the usual spots for my keys, no dice.
I went to the car and asked the kids if they had seen the keys.
“No!” was the answer that greeted me. Back inside the house I went to search some more. This was so odd. I heard them in my purse last night when my mom asked me about them. I dumped my purse, but no nada. Crap!
I called Jory inside to help me, search for my keys. I couldn’t remember moving them off the table, but maybe they had been in my jeans’ pockets and I didn’t remember putting them there. That was perfectly reasonable. Nope, they weren’t there.
I went outside and brought the girls inside. It was now time for a full family hunt for the keys.
We hunted and hunted. I called my boss and told her I would be in as soon as I found them. She laughed and said okay.
After nearly an hour of searching, I called off the search to take a breather and to feed people breakfast.
“I don’t want Corn Flakes, I want Cheerios.”
“I don’t want Cheerios, I want Honey Bunches of Oats.”
“I want oatmeal.”
Did they think they lived in a restaurant with a short order cook? “You’re having whatever is in this container with the blue top.” Could they not see Mommy was not in the mood to play games.
“It’s Corn Flakes,” Jory informed me.
“Corn Flakes it is.”
They ate. I prayed, took a moment, watched some videos, ate, then went back at it.
I tore apart to the living room, my room. I had the kids check their rooms and double check the rooms I had checked. Jory went through the car though I knew it was humanly impossible for them to be in the car since I had unlocked the door the night before to get in the house. On and on it went. Frustratingly slow. With little girls playing while they are suppose to be checking their toy boxes, where Oma’s keys were found. Said girls got busted and separated.
The cycle continued, the same rooms were destroyed, put back together, then it started again. Three hours of this. Three hours.
I sent Jory into the girls room to search behind them again. He searched their nightstand and there were the keys.
Why do I have girls again? Thank you God for giving me a boy first because if the Irish twins had been my one, two punch, there would have been no three. The parenting train would have stopped with them.
Yep, he's mine
Walking into the store with Jory, I hold my hand out, he reaches for it, and holds it. I look down at the little boy who is my son. My seven-year-old son. A baby I use to cradle, then carry in my arms. My baby now walks next to me, taller, and bigger, and I’m amazed at how much I love him. How much I adore him. How blessed I am that he is mine.
Easter meal
Motivated by my friend, Roanna, and Mona, I decided at the eleventh hour that I should cook Easter dinner for TTT. I compile a list of ingredients I needed which was simple because I copied Mona’s menu. Jory and I head out to the store and directly to the meat section.
Sadly because it was the Saturday before Easter, all the tiny hams were gone. Ten pounders were even difficult to find. Ten pounds was too much for me and TTT, but I had to make do with what they had. We walked to get in line and Jory complained about how heavy the ham he was carrying was. The ham was nearly eleven pounds.
“Now you know how I felt Easter 2005. Because you weighed about the same as the ham you’re carrying,” I told him.
“I was this heavy?” he inquired.
“Yes, you were and I had to carry you around all the time. So I think you can carry the ham to the front of the store.”
He looked at me in shock. He couldn’t believe how much he had once weighed. He thought that was so heavy. It was hard for me to remember that he was once that small.
We got to the front of the line and he put the ham on the conveyor belt. The cashier rung it up. Twenty-five dollars. Twenty-five dollars?!?! What happened to the eleven dollars? It was only eleven if you purchased twenty-five dollars worth of groceries. Are you kidding me?!
I don’t need any groceries except the ham. All those hams in the back were twenty-five dollars and up. What in the world? It’s a pig. A pig. Are people smoking crack? I went back to the meat section and asked the butcher if he could find me a smaller ham. He came out with a nine pound ham. Uh, thanks a lot dude. I asked if there was any way, he could cut the ham in half, but he said no.
I think I need to buy a pig, it’s gotta be cheaper than buying some ham from a grocery store. Plus, I could use the pig for math, science, health, and anatomy, all in one.
Sadly because it was the Saturday before Easter, all the tiny hams were gone. Ten pounders were even difficult to find. Ten pounds was too much for me and TTT, but I had to make do with what they had. We walked to get in line and Jory complained about how heavy the ham he was carrying was. The ham was nearly eleven pounds.
“Now you know how I felt Easter 2005. Because you weighed about the same as the ham you’re carrying,” I told him.
“I was this heavy?” he inquired.
“Yes, you were and I had to carry you around all the time. So I think you can carry the ham to the front of the store.”
He looked at me in shock. He couldn’t believe how much he had once weighed. He thought that was so heavy. It was hard for me to remember that he was once that small.
We got to the front of the line and he put the ham on the conveyor belt. The cashier rung it up. Twenty-five dollars. Twenty-five dollars?!?! What happened to the eleven dollars? It was only eleven if you purchased twenty-five dollars worth of groceries. Are you kidding me?!
I don’t need any groceries except the ham. All those hams in the back were twenty-five dollars and up. What in the world? It’s a pig. A pig. Are people smoking crack? I went back to the meat section and asked the butcher if he could find me a smaller ham. He came out with a nine pound ham. Uh, thanks a lot dude. I asked if there was any way, he could cut the ham in half, but he said no.
I think I need to buy a pig, it’s gotta be cheaper than buying some ham from a grocery store. Plus, I could use the pig for math, science, health, and anatomy, all in one.
At the carwash
There is one thing I’ve been dying to do. Take the kids to an old fashion car wash. I still remember how much fun it was to be in Uncle Bobby’s blue station wagon with Mort and Eric and probably Kacy, as the spinning arms came down. Watching the car get cleaned was an awesome experience and the memory stayed with me all these years.
Jory and I filled up the car and I decided the car needed to be washed and it was too late to do it ourselves, so I thought I’ll go through the gas station’s car wash.
We gassed up the car, drove around to the side of the building, and I saw it. It was the car wash I went through as kid. Not as big obviously, but it was all mechanical arms, Jory was about to experience the fun of a car wash all for himself. And enjoyed it he did. He moved from the back of the minivan to the front, trying to see the arms lower and raise, washing our car. He was so excited. I was excited for him.
This almost made up for the overpriced ham, we didn’t buy. Nah, it did. I’ll have to let the girls experience this too.
Jory and I filled up the car and I decided the car needed to be washed and it was too late to do it ourselves, so I thought I’ll go through the gas station’s car wash.
We gassed up the car, drove around to the side of the building, and I saw it. It was the car wash I went through as kid. Not as big obviously, but it was all mechanical arms, Jory was about to experience the fun of a car wash all for himself. And enjoyed it he did. He moved from the back of the minivan to the front, trying to see the arms lower and raise, washing our car. He was so excited. I was excited for him.
This almost made up for the overpriced ham, we didn’t buy. Nah, it did. I’ll have to let the girls experience this too.
Numbers
“Mommy, I will be one. I will be two. I will be three. I will be four. I will be five. I will be six. I will be seven. I will be eight. I will be nine. I will be ten,” the baby informed me, complete with counting fingers.
“Yes, Baby, you were one, two, three, and now you’re four. And yes, you’ll be getting older,” I agreed.
My baby is in love with counting. I remember when I was excited about getting older and couldn’t wait until I turned a certain age, and now I have to do subtraction on some days to remember my age.
“Yes, Baby, you were one, two, three, and now you’re four. And yes, you’ll be getting older,” I agreed.
My baby is in love with counting. I remember when I was excited about getting older and couldn’t wait until I turned a certain age, and now I have to do subtraction on some days to remember my age.
Driving with Jory
“Mommy, does that Chevy go fast?”
“Mommy is that car faster than ours?”
“Mommy, which is faster a Chevy or a Porsche?”
“Is that a sports car Mommy?”
“I think it is a sports car because I don’t see a backseat.”
“Can that car go faster than a train?”
“Which goes faster a ship or a motorcycle?”
“Can we drive faster than the train?”
Alone time with Jory. He needs a dad. A dad who is in to cars. Or he just needs to learn how to read the big boy books that talk about cars cause as much as I love him, I so could careless. Though true love has me reading car books to him. My favorite is finding videos on cars. Nothing required of me other than nodding at the right parts when he tells me about the video.
“Mommy is that car faster than ours?”
“Mommy, which is faster a Chevy or a Porsche?”
“Is that a sports car Mommy?”
“I think it is a sports car because I don’t see a backseat.”
“Can that car go faster than a train?”
“Which goes faster a ship or a motorcycle?”
“Can we drive faster than the train?”
Alone time with Jory. He needs a dad. A dad who is in to cars. Or he just needs to learn how to read the big boy books that talk about cars cause as much as I love him, I so could careless. Though true love has me reading car books to him. My favorite is finding videos on cars. Nothing required of me other than nodding at the right parts when he tells me about the video.
Agua, please
“Mommy, juice please?” the baby asked.
“Didn’t you just have some with dinner?” I inquired.
“Yes, but there’s nothing to drink,” she informed me.
“There’s milk and water,” I reminded her.
“Mommy, there’s no water.”
“What do you mean, there’s no water?”
Rowan walked into the kitchen. “Mommy, there’s no water. Look,” she interjected, then walked to the pantry and opened it to show me the empty spot where the bottles of water usually sit.
“So there’s no water in the house?” I asked the girls.
“No,” they said emphatically.
“What comes out of the faucet?” I questioned.
Blank stares.
“What comes out of the faucet?” I repeated. Are you kidding me?! “Water. Water, guys. Water comes out of the faucet, so we do have water.”
Blank stares.
I wasn’t sure what was worse that Oma has brainwashed my children so they think the only water that exists is water that comes pre-packaged in a bottle. Or that they couldn’t put a name to the liquid that comes out of the faucet.
I’m sure some ad exec would gleefully love to hear this story.
“Didn’t you just have some with dinner?” I inquired.
“Yes, but there’s nothing to drink,” she informed me.
“There’s milk and water,” I reminded her.
“Mommy, there’s no water.”
“What do you mean, there’s no water?”
Rowan walked into the kitchen. “Mommy, there’s no water. Look,” she interjected, then walked to the pantry and opened it to show me the empty spot where the bottles of water usually sit.
“So there’s no water in the house?” I asked the girls.
“No,” they said emphatically.
“What comes out of the faucet?” I questioned.
Blank stares.
“What comes out of the faucet?” I repeated. Are you kidding me?! “Water. Water, guys. Water comes out of the faucet, so we do have water.”
Blank stares.
I wasn’t sure what was worse that Oma has brainwashed my children so they think the only water that exists is water that comes pre-packaged in a bottle. Or that they couldn’t put a name to the liquid that comes out of the faucet.
I’m sure some ad exec would gleefully love to hear this story.
Bigger
Mommy, I run fast cause I bigger,” Layla informed me.
“Yes, baby, you are getting bigger,” I responded. My baby is getting bigger and morphing from baby into a big girl. Though she will always be my baby.
“Yes, baby, you are getting bigger,” I responded. My baby is getting bigger and morphing from baby into a big girl. Though she will always be my baby.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
The Eagle has landed
Mijo took off at 2:30AM on Sunday on a bus headed to Mississippi to catch a plane to take him to Washington D.C. Mona said he texted her from the bus all the way to the airport.
I can't believe my baby is away from all of us for the first time. Yes, it's only for six days, but still. He's never stayed overnight with non-family members, and really he's only ever spent the night with me or Mort. And now this, a different time zone, a different part of the country.
Please pray for protection and wisdom for my little Mijo, who is geting to be not so little for him. And for all of his classmates, their parents, and teachers, who are with him on the trip. Pray for the parents left behind too.
I can't believe my baby is away from all of us for the first time. Yes, it's only for six days, but still. He's never stayed overnight with non-family members, and really he's only ever spent the night with me or Mort. And now this, a different time zone, a different part of the country.
Please pray for protection and wisdom for my little Mijo, who is geting to be not so little for him. And for all of his classmates, their parents, and teachers, who are with him on the trip. Pray for the parents left behind too.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)