Super yum (except different)

This is being released as an item to recognize the 30 year anniversary of Elvis's demise.

Super yum---but not.

http://candyaddict.com/blog/2007/06/11/candy-review-reeses-elvis-cup-with-peanut-butter-and-banana-creme/

Party Aftermath

So while we know that birthdays are not all about the presents, these kids still hauled in the loot. We appreciate everyone coming out to celebrate with us and thank them for all of the wonderful gifts. We have tremendous amounts of sugary cake and cupcakes that we will be secretly giving your children in place of their vegetables and proteins! :0)

For those of you who know what a crazy priss pot my sweet potato girl is, the following picture will illustrate her need and appreciation for all that is pink and glam!

BEHOLD,

Why we have birthdays

On our way back from Walmart this evening, Daniel was asking me why we were having his party on his actual birthday instead of the weekend. I was explaining that since we live further from his grandparents and his friends are the ones coming to the party, it was ok to have it during the week. He interrupted me several times to find out if he was still going to get presents if the grandparents weren't there. I said "Yes, but....

the reason we have birthday parties isn't to get presents. We have a party every year to celebrate the day you became our son. We get to have a good time and be happy that you were born, into our family, and that we have been together for another year."

His eyes started to tear up and I thought "Good grief, here we go. Another tantrum."

Instead, he said, "That is so sweet. I always appreciate that they are (his guests) just there. I love you."

Hear that? It's my cold heart melting. Literally---total puddle.

As we rounded the corner, we passed the local ice cream parlor. There was a father outside with two girls (infant and a little younger than Daniel). He carried his beautiful baby in one arm and cradled the back of his older daughters head in his hand as he steered her gently to the car. GULP, SOB, HICCUP.

As caught up in the day to day grind and irritation of raising my kids as I can be, I am officially taking the next few minutes to remember how desperately each of them was wanted. How happily all of them were welcomed into the world and my heart. No video ever captured the secret moments alone with them, when they were fresh and new, that I smelled their baby breath, their sweet necks. But I don't need a visual reminder of how just their little sighs made my heart swell with more love than I ever thought I was capable of. And to think that this endless love could multiply three times over is remarkable.

Below is my birthday boy. Happy Birthday Daniel!

Daniel's first birthday card this year

Passage of Time

I had intended to do a blog that included pictures. But here I am, trapped in my room by a screaming three year old. So I will try to convey in words what I wanted to share with photos. Then I will add them later.

Over the course of this project I am working on for my grandmother there have been many surprises. I have been able to associate faces with names I have heard all of my life but never had any meaning to me. I have been able to peer into the past of my family and get a glimpse of what things were like.

The thing that has struck me the most though is the way time sneaks up on us. I was going through pictures and came upon one of my great grandfather Charlie Holliday. My memories of this man are sweet. He always smelled good and was loveable and proud. He was always old to me, but not in that frail sort of way some older people are. This was my memory. The picture was in his last years, when he was ill and barely able to move. He was in a hospital bed in the dining room of his home and his great grandson Jacob was looking over the railing at him. There was a physical sensation looking at this picture. Mere moments before, I had held a photo of him with his twin brothers as young men. They looked vibrant and full of life.

I think the family I was born into ages rather well. Maybe that is why it surprises me when they start to look their age or even old. My father's pictures were among those that I have been looking at. Seeing him as a little kids, a soldier, a new father, are all images I can deal with. Those even make me smile. Knowing that one day, if we are lucky enough to live long full lives, we will both be shadows of our younger days makes me sad. There is no avoiding it. Would we really want to?

I cannot even imagine what my children will be like at my age. Or my grandmothers age. Or what their children's children will think of our generation.


So as I ponder all this deep stuff I will try to savor my present, not dwell on my past or my future. I will do my best not to wish for those paths left untaken. I will do my best to pass on what I know and still be aware that a century from now it may be as though I never existed.

I hope this makes sense to someone besides myself.

Speaking with authority

This morning Ted slept in. It is the first day back to work and he was dreading it after a week's vacation. Around nine o'clock, Aurelia and I went upstairs to clean up and she climbed on the bed with Daddy.

She had a thin plastic stick (like a pick up stick) and was poking him as he slept. He started to get up. She held out her hand, pushed him back down, struck a pose and said, " It's ok. I am a doctor. You need to go hospital and get operations. We put stitches in your hand." Then she resumed poking him. He didn't seem to appreciate my contribution---that the surgery may just be lyposuction.


After he left for work I made dinner. We are trying to get back into our habit of eating at home. So after the kids and I ate, I packed up his dinner and we drove over to his office. Daniel insisted he be able to roll down the rear van window so he could talk to his Daddy. This consisted of some rather rude noises and nonsense. Finally, he reached out to hug Ted. I said, " Kiss him. Kiss him." Daniel gave me the stare and said quite bluntly, " That is SO unnecessary."

Ok then.

Kings Island

An additional comment about our trip.

We were in Coney Mall and I saw one of the barkers who will guess your age, weight, or birth month within two years, pounds, or months. I thought why not, the worst that could happen is my ego could be crushed.

I walked up and handed my $5 to the guy. He wrote his guess (my age) down and then asked for the correct answer. I told him 32-------------

HE GUESSED 17!!!!

Now realistically, I know he is probably around that age and inexperienced in the world of guesses. It probably helped my cause that I asked my own mother for the money right before his guess. But nevertheless, his guess was FIFTEEN years lower than my actual age!!!

That is a personal memory I will tuck right here and take out every so often and giggle about.

AND YOU CAN"T TAKE THAT AWAY, SO DON"T EVEN TRY!!

:0)

Trippy

This past weekend was a semi-vacation to King's Island in OH with my mother, cousin, myself, and my two older children. These are some of the pros and cons that came with the trip.

Pro....

Aurelia was left with her daddy.

Con...

Aurelia was left with her daddy.

Pro...

She advanced her potty training exponentially while we were gone. There were multiple incidents of self initiated trips to the potty!! Yippee.

Con...

Our oldest was a snot bucket. What do you have to do to get a thank you or a semi kind word from a teenager these days?

Pro...

My highly strung younger son was discovered to be a thrill seeker. He exclaimed how AWESOME many of the adult rides were and wasn't even a little scared.

Con..

He wanted me to ride them too. UGH

Pro..

Got to spend some time with my mom.

Con...

Mom hates parental/child conflict (and there was no shortage.)

Overall, decent trip. A repeat next year? Not so much.

Summer Photo Post

News on the homefront

I love having my plate piled high. One project simply isn't enough for this stellar underachiever.

In the midst of the BIG photo book project, I have taken on a video CD for my Dad of his most recent 517 photos of his cross country trip with my mom and his cousins. That is fast becoming the slowest project in history (due to the file size of the pics).

Since school starts soon, it is also necessary to get cracking on the potty training. The first diaper free day went well. NO ACCIDENTS!! Yesterday was a little less successful after the deposit of urine in a couple of corners. But we are staying positive and focused.... sort of.

As a reward/incentive (Mommy indulgence), we welcomed two beautiful kittens into our family this week. They are brother/sister buff colored sweeties. Much debate was had over their naming, but this morning it was made permanent. They are now Desmond and Molly Kitty. (Other names in the running were Sugar and Spice, Bread & Butter, Benny & Joon, and Cornbread & Tatertots.)

I will be wrapping up my first case with CASA soon. I must say it was challenging and rewarding. I was glad to have met all of the people involved. Now I must prepare myself to let these children out of my mind and focus on the next case. I believe that will be the hardest thing in the future. Transition.

In the meantime, I ask all who enter my home to alert me to any odors I may not be noticing. New kittens and a potty training 3 year old distract a person. Thanks in advance.

Have a great day and happy blogging!

things that make you go HMMM?!

The sorting done, I have delved into the task of scanning the photos into my computer. This job is tedious and better suited for a trained monkey. But two of the pictures have grabbed my attention and I would like to share them with you blog readers.

The first one is of a little boy. His expression is somewhat unhappy to say the least. When I first saw it, I thought to myself, he is having a bad day. But I am sorry to report that all of his pictures turn out that way. I am not revealing his name just in case.

He is one toddler SERIOUSLY in need of a cookie.

The second picture illustrates to me the sheer lunacy of mortality. Perhaps we are concerned with the legacy we leave behind. Maybe we care about enjoying our lives while they are here to enjoy. Whatever the case, this man, was once someone's son. I apologize in advance, but the distance of time and never having known this person lends a slight bit of humor to the off the wall tidbit on the back of his picture,

The caption simply states his name and "Died in a bread mixer."

Now, death is never funny. But surely there was some other life event that could have made it onto the back of a photograph as a descriptive marker for this suave gentleman.

I hear the scanner warming up. I guess I had better eat my banana and get back to work.

Book of memories

Over the years I have tackled big projects. I have learned to crochet the basics from a book over a weekend. I have organized my dad's first ever birthday party. One year all of our Christmas cards (over 300) were addressed and stamped in JULY. I try to finish my seasonal shopping before the first frost. But this is the BIGGEST project I have ever tackled.

You can't tell by my current house status, but I used to reorganize my mothers kitchen. I used to clean my granma's house every weekend. Now I organize in my head and leave it there. But my grandmother and her new husband are moving. That gives me the prime opportunity to lay my hands on all of her pictures under the premise of compiling a book of memories.

Initially, I just sorted everything into black and white and color photos. Now a more complete thought is forming about sections of the book: portraits, weddings, babies, family photos, candids. But my grandmother has thousands of pictures. Not to mention the duplicates. So if you don't see me for awhile or if I look a little ragged, it is because I am undertaking the task of my life. Thank you for your patience.

Got Camp?

I am the queen of camp. My oldest has been signed up for five camps this summer. The middle one had a week of camp. I wanna know when they will sign Aurelia up for camp.

The great thing about camps for the older one is that some are free. Others are not, but still relatively cheap. There was only one fairly expensive one. But on average, we are getting five weeks of him being fed, bathed, and entertained for a fraction of what we could do it for here.

I mean have you seen the kid eat?

Mixed Mommy

My recent volunteer work has been a mixed bag of blessings.

I have had the opportunity to get out and take action about things that gnaw at my soul. I have been able to see firsthand how important my being able to stay home and take care of my own three kids is. Feeling like I am making any difference while being able to balance it with them is wonderful.

The different thoughts come out when I realize that I don't enjoy playing. When I say that out loud, it sounds like I don't enjoy my children. What I don't enjoy is the actual playing part (watching cartoons, dress up, park playing, pretend games). I didn't enjoy group play as a child. I don't like the outdoors unless I am alone or with sedate group on a mild day. What I do enjoy is the joy my children have when I do those things with them. As much as I personally dislike the activities, knowing that when they grow up they can hold on to memories of us together doing things they liked to do makes me happy.

Then I begin to think of the time that I will be released from this obligation. When cartoons and tea parties and endless conversations about non existent people will be a thing of the past. The part where my life becomes mostly my own again. I long for it and I dread it simultaneously. It will mean my babies don't need that part of me anymore. I will miss them. We will have different relationships and they will grow away from me in ways that will break me. But they will grow. And I will remember how I smelled their hair, marveled at the chunk and smooth of their baby cheek, kissed away boo-boo's, fixed broken toys, mended wounded feelings, explained new things. Maybe they will remember some of it too.

When they fly the nest, I will be beyond ready to pursue a career. I worked before the kids, but never enjoyed my jobs. I had moments in most all of the jobs I held that were enjoyable, but I wasn't making a difference or doing anything I felt important about. I let my mind wander to saying things like "I have to go to a conference." "I'll be away on a business trip that week." "I'll check my calendar, but my secretary will know for sure." Adultish, career-like sentences that don't include references to bowel movements, boogers, imaginary friends. I will enjoy the wide variety of positions that are available with my chosen path. I will savor every moment. But I will know in my heart that this job I have now, the one that tires me out, that really sticks it to me, is the one that defines me. I won't have a retirement party, no goodbye cake, it will just fade into a new part of our life. I'll be free as I weep with joy/sadness.

Am I the only one?

AQUATARD

After having a hysterectomy and not being in the best of shape to begin with, I thought I would give a different kind of swimsuit a try. I had heard a celebrity refer to http://www.junonia.com/ where active ladies over size 14 can by clothing.

I located a suit called an Aquatard. My initial thought was I could turn it into my superhero name and it would be so fitting. Then I noted the wonderful concealing qualities of the suit. It was even in my price range (for their purple 1x, only).

I sent away for the suit and went about my merry way. When it arrived on the UPS truck, I was giddy. Ted was home and I decided to try it on and ask his opinion. I could not get this suit designed for active ladies over size 14 that should have fit come up past my knees. I knew it should be snug, but if that bad boy ever had to be put on or taken off wet there were going to be paramedics involved.

Luckily, I thought ahead and knew their return policy. I packed it on up and sent that thing back.

Now for the visual......

Lighter moments

I have three unrelated stories of varying humor.

1. Over this past year, I have received numerous thank you cards, notices, and invitations from actual teachers with fairly common words that are misspelled. The most recent was the word definitely. Spelled definately. I have even gone so far as to correct a teachers spelling on the dry erase board in my son's first grade class. I could not help myself. But I still have to give the teachers their props. I haven't got the patience to deal with the little creatures. And I would be teaching them new words that would offend no matter how they were spelled.

2. On a trip to Bob Evans with my mother a while back we fought over the check as usual. My mother is notorious for snapping bones in the wrestle for a bill. Like a meal at Bob's is going to bankrupt whoever she is with. She won that round and traipsed her gloating heiny right up to the cashier. She placed the bill and $21 on the counter. The woman just looked at her expectantly. Mom looked back at her quizzically. Mom was waiting for her receipt and the cashier was waiting for the rest of the bill. My poor mother had given quite a tip, the only problem was she was paying the time stamp on the bill. (It is recorded in military time and was something like $18.26). We laughed so hard in the car that adult diapers were needed.

3. My recent volunteer work has led me to some mentoring opportunities with teens. A local bus driver was already doing some of this work and brought me in under his wing. On my first day, I was winding down a session with three girls. The man popped in to say it was time for them to change classes. The dark haired girl in the trio said she had to do a report on Harriet Tubman, so I piped up and offered my tidbit of knowledge. "Maybe I can help you get some extra credit. I happen to know that Harriet Tubman was narcoleptic. She was struck in the head with a weight by a former owner when she was a child." The girl stared at me blankly. The blonde on her right said after a moment,"Does that mean she steals stuff?" I explained that no, she didn't steal things. She would fall asleep at awkward and unpredictable times. Then the girl on the far right said "I wonder if she fell asleep on the road?"

The bus driver said without a flicker of humor "Nah, if she was that bad off, they wouldn'ta give her a drivers license."

No one in that room registered even the most remote flicker of knowing how wrong that was. Harriet Freaking Tubman?! The Underground Railroad?! Really, noone. Are you serious?

Alrighty then!

Sobering Moments

Finding out your well-liked physician is leaving the state to start a practice fifty miles away.

Discovering your pregnant, close enough to your own height friend is still 31 pounds lighter than you are.

Having to tell your husband that the surgery induced lovefest injunction that was lifted less than a week ago will have to be reinstated because I am a UTI wonderland.

When people you love pass away and you can't remember when you last saw them.

Bleeping piece of junk

I have been absent from the blogging scene for a few weeks now. It seems that I will have to use the laptop for anything that requires not being a bleeping piece of junk. I have been reading everyone's blogs and must say you are all very humorous.

But today I must relate my son Daniel's view of the world.....

He has been pretty dreamy with his speech lately. He just kind of lets sentences out in an ethereal breath. But that doesn't mean they make a lot of sense.

Last night he was talking breathily about my homemade chocolate chip cookies. I said I would make some and send them to his class on Monday. He looked lovingly at me and declared,"I knew you were thinking about us. Me and my whole classmates." Sigh.

At bathtime, I was washing him and he asked why I wasn't washing his face. Normally his father washes him like he's possessed and with a mission. I told him I had already washed his face, just gently. He breathed, "I love you more than daddy washes dishes." Um, ok. Then with even more rapture he declared,"I love you even more than you do the dishes." Yup, gotcha. Just dry off

Then he said, " I know how they washed dishes in the 1970's. They had to use a sponge to wash it off and then they put it in the water to dry. Can I wash dishes sometime like they did in the 1970's?" (With puppy eyes and true desire)

Of course, Daniel. Of course.

Mother's Day

My youngest son clearly has issues.

The book he gave me for Mother's Day had question starters that he finished.
For example:

I wonder if... she loves me more than my brother.

I wonder how... she knows what I am doing, like playing Pokemon with Cory.

I wonder when... she will pick me up from school.

And later in the day this conversation took place:

Daniel: I think Dad needs the code for the computer.

Me: Nope. He already knows it.

Daniel: Tell me what it is.

Me: Nope. It's just for grown ups. Ask me when you're forty.

Daniel (son of my loins who was comforted by my loving arms and nourished at my bosom):
When I'm forty you'll already be dead.

So apparently, you should all get your visits in now.
Night all
Heather

The Nature of Things

Rest In Peace
Hamstey/Lenny (the hamster)
July 2005-May 5, 2007

My mother is a saint and has taken all of our children to her home for the weekend. I will have to discover a way to force her to accept a token of appreciation because she just keeps throwing my money back at me.

While our children are gone, Ted and I have driven around in our Super Beetle and just hung out. We have sung old songs and laughed at silly roadside junk.

We passed the cemetery and I asked Ted to pull over. I haven't seen the man who had an oxygen tank there for some time and I have been meaning to check the grave. I learned their names and felt better to see his side of the plaque is not yet engraved with an expiration date.

Before we left for the evening, my husband went to clean the hamster cage. Unfortunately, the poor dear was DOA. An appropriate burial spot was selected and he was interred in the backyard, behind the garage.

Many of you will remember that the moving on of our family dog was not noticed for a VERY long time. Our current plan is to wait until a question is posed to us by Daniel. Then and only then will we be forced to discuss the passing of Hamstey/Lenny.

Maybe it was part of the pet food recall. Maybe it was the unexplained name change halfway through his life. Maybe it was his giant hamster hemorrhoids. Goodbye, Hamstey/Lenny. I will miss your squeaky wheel and your smelly smell.

Night all
Heather