Today is a big day in many ways. It shouldn't be, I suppose, but it just struck me that it kind of is whether I want it to be or not.
My mom is having surgery on her second eye (and last one, because she only has 2 eyes now) to remove cataracts. My dad had the same surgery just a few weeks ago and it's still hard to get used to seeing him without glasses. I hope the outcome is as great for my mom as it has been for my dad. I'm so happy that they can see so well and no longer need (or will probably no longer need!) glasses. I've joked with them that they might wish they couldn't see ME so clearly. It's probably very scary to see me with such clarity.
Today is also my parents' oldest grandchild's tenth birthday. When he was born, I was about 2 months pregnant with Miss M. My sister-in-law had to have an unplanned c-section a little earlier than planned because the amniotic fluid was leaking somehow. He was also breech, so he apparently just really wanted to be force-ably evicted like my children. I was disappointed to hear that she had to have a c-section because I was hoping for some straight talk about what I was really in for with labor. Hahahahahahaha! I should have been asking her what the c-section was really like since Miss M turned into an emergent c-section instead of the drug-free, possibly agonizing, labor and delivery I had been imagining for 41 weeks.
My brother's oldest boy turning 10 years old makes me realize my own oldest will be 10 in just 7 months. Maybe a long ways away, but when the time goes as quickly as it continues to fly, the day will be here sooner than I am ready. Then it will be gone and I'll be lamenting that she's turning 13, then 16, and then she'll be out on her own. Ten years old, the kids are definitely more than half-way grown.
Every year that passes I love to learn more about who my kids are and who they are becoming. I still miss the babies that they were. I try to mesh the two selves of my kids by telling them the funny and quirky things they said and did when they were smaller. They love to hear the stories and I love their reactions to hearing the stories.
I'm still not certain I won't try to stick them in the freezer one of these days. When they invent the time machine I'm going to have several days and years that I want to revisit.
Showing posts with label Boppa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Boppa. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Thursday, November 11, 2010
An Ordinary Day For Most
It is snowing. (Maybe it was or maybe it wasn't, it doesn't really matter.) It is the tiny, dry pinging kind of snow that bites at your face if you brave the outdoors. It's the kind that doesn't take much strength to remove, but still makes you groan at the idea.
She's stayed inside as much as she can. There are chores that must be done regardless of the weather or her own mood. She rarely allows herself the luxury of a good cry. The few times it has happened have been in the late-night hours after her boy is tucked in bed and deep in slumber. She values strength. Strength of emotion, strength of character, strength of body.
There is a fire flickering softly. The boy toddles toward it occasionally, curious at the dance of orange and red. She calls after him, distracting him from harm. The fire is meant as much to take the chill from her heart as it is to warm the room.
The boy is determined to explore every inch of the room, touching things and stopping just for a moment to see if his mother is watching him. She notices only intermittently. He smiles when she admonishes him for touching the same forbidden object he's touched four times before she noticed. She sighs with exhaustion, not realizing he is testing her and looking for her attention.
She is distracted. She loves her boy beyond imagination and can only see his father when she looks at him. She wonders when her husband will be home again to help her teach this precocious boy. She is strong but not invincible. What does she know of little boys beyond her brothers? She finds some comfort knowing that she at least has brothers. Boys are still a bit mysterious. Motherhood is different than she pictured.
She keeps the tiny, shrunken letters in a pocket in her skirt. She doesn't know what else to do with them. They are optimistic, confident, breezy. They paint a picture very different from her world. She feels none of these. Her boy points to the one photo she keeps out. "Dada?" She merely nods at the daily inquiry. She knows she should probably do more but she can't.
The fire needs more wood. She has some dry in the house, but it will run out. She leaves the boy with a quick preemptive reprimand, bundles herself and goes to the shed to gather more firewood. She's thankful for the family who have stockpiled firewood on her behalf. She's strong, but she'd rather not split wood. On her way back from the shed she notices the lights of a car in the distance. It's not dark, but the snow has reduced visibility enough that the few out driving (and she wonders who is out driving in this?) turn on their headlights in the futile attempt to see more than a few feet ahead.
Head down, arms laden with wood, she trudges toward the house knowing her boy is probably getting into mischief, also knowing she can't waste time bundling him too and bringing him with her. Once inside, she finds him sitting on the bench just inside the door. "Hi Mama!" he smiles brightly.
He follows her progress to the fireplace and the stack of wood nearby. "Help you?" he asks in typical toddler fashion. She absently hands him a small log from the top of her stack. She's become a veteran at handling a stack and balancing just right. He beams with pride as he places it on the pile.
The knock on the door barely registers between the clatter of stacking the dry wood.
"Whas that?" the boy's eyes are huge.
Relieved of her wooden burden, she approaches the door. She's not expecting company. There is a twinge. She's not sure what the twinge means.
Opening the door, she's confused at the sight of the young man before her.
"I'm sorry Ma'am..." is all that she remembers hearing.
Gone. Gone. Gone. DEAD.
When she closes the door she collapses in tears, her boy frantically wiping them away.
**************
This is a romanticized, fictionalized version of my grandmother's day of learning that my grandfather (my dad's father) was killed in WWII. I dedicate this to my dad and to all the other veterans out there...and those we have lost.
She's stayed inside as much as she can. There are chores that must be done regardless of the weather or her own mood. She rarely allows herself the luxury of a good cry. The few times it has happened have been in the late-night hours after her boy is tucked in bed and deep in slumber. She values strength. Strength of emotion, strength of character, strength of body.
There is a fire flickering softly. The boy toddles toward it occasionally, curious at the dance of orange and red. She calls after him, distracting him from harm. The fire is meant as much to take the chill from her heart as it is to warm the room.
The boy is determined to explore every inch of the room, touching things and stopping just for a moment to see if his mother is watching him. She notices only intermittently. He smiles when she admonishes him for touching the same forbidden object he's touched four times before she noticed. She sighs with exhaustion, not realizing he is testing her and looking for her attention.
She is distracted. She loves her boy beyond imagination and can only see his father when she looks at him. She wonders when her husband will be home again to help her teach this precocious boy. She is strong but not invincible. What does she know of little boys beyond her brothers? She finds some comfort knowing that she at least has brothers. Boys are still a bit mysterious. Motherhood is different than she pictured.
She keeps the tiny, shrunken letters in a pocket in her skirt. She doesn't know what else to do with them. They are optimistic, confident, breezy. They paint a picture very different from her world. She feels none of these. Her boy points to the one photo she keeps out. "Dada?" She merely nods at the daily inquiry. She knows she should probably do more but she can't.
The fire needs more wood. She has some dry in the house, but it will run out. She leaves the boy with a quick preemptive reprimand, bundles herself and goes to the shed to gather more firewood. She's thankful for the family who have stockpiled firewood on her behalf. She's strong, but she'd rather not split wood. On her way back from the shed she notices the lights of a car in the distance. It's not dark, but the snow has reduced visibility enough that the few out driving (and she wonders who is out driving in this?) turn on their headlights in the futile attempt to see more than a few feet ahead.
Head down, arms laden with wood, she trudges toward the house knowing her boy is probably getting into mischief, also knowing she can't waste time bundling him too and bringing him with her. Once inside, she finds him sitting on the bench just inside the door. "Hi Mama!" he smiles brightly.
He follows her progress to the fireplace and the stack of wood nearby. "Help you?" he asks in typical toddler fashion. She absently hands him a small log from the top of her stack. She's become a veteran at handling a stack and balancing just right. He beams with pride as he places it on the pile.
The knock on the door barely registers between the clatter of stacking the dry wood.
"Whas that?" the boy's eyes are huge.
Relieved of her wooden burden, she approaches the door. She's not expecting company. There is a twinge. She's not sure what the twinge means.
Opening the door, she's confused at the sight of the young man before her.
"I'm sorry Ma'am..." is all that she remembers hearing.
Gone. Gone. Gone. DEAD.
When she closes the door she collapses in tears, her boy frantically wiping them away.
**************
This is a romanticized, fictionalized version of my grandmother's day of learning that my grandfather (my dad's father) was killed in WWII. I dedicate this to my dad and to all the other veterans out there...and those we have lost.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
The Mall and Siblings and Lessons, Oh My!
This break from school has been less than ideal for my big kids. I've been sick for most of it (I think I got sick on the second day) and still have a lingering cold and cough. But yesterday I was determined to take the kids out someplace, anyplace to get us out and about like we usually are during their school breaks.
Miss M wanted to go to the Mall of America. I was reluctant to go, but after I made sure she understood there would be NO rides at Nickelodeon Universe and that SHE (and her brother) would need their own money to buy whatever they thought they needed there, I conceded.
My mom suggested that I ask my dad to come with us, so I did and he decided he could come along for the ride. I neglected to mention my plans of eating lunch at the American Girl Bistro. Whoops! Good thing he's a good sport.
Before we left, all three kids emptied their piggy banks and we stopped at the bank to use the change counter. M ended with $21, K had $23 and D had $65. I planned to buy D an American Girl Doll to put away for a few years until she is older, and her $65 would help pay for half of it.
We headed for AG first and purchased D's doll and M's puppy (Coconut...$20 for a little dog...what a rip off!) and headed for the Bistro. We'd never ate there before but I thought it would be fun for something different. At first K Man refused to eat there. He's a boy after all, so I don't really blame him. So I did what any (not-s0) nice mom would do and told him that he would have to go hungry then because this was where we were eating.
I asked the big kids if they wanted to "borrow" a friend to dine with. M has an AG doll, but we didn't think to bring her along. They have boy "Bitty Babies" now so I asked K if he wanted to dine with a boy "friend." At first he said no, then I just grabbed one and asked if he'd like to have lunch with that boy. He said no and picked a different one. We were on our way with our new friends and an extra seat for "Coconut" the new (expensive) addition to our family.
With the seating arranged and the meals ordered it became clear that the K Man was enjoying himself much more than he would ever admit. I think he wanted to take his new friend home with him. The waitress brought cups, plates and a tiny pitcher of pink lemonade for the dolls and the puppy. The kids had such a great time pouring lemonade for their friends (and drinking it) that they asked the waitress for 4 refills because their "friends" were so thirsty. (I was surprised that the food was as good as it was...but it is expensive.)
After lunch it was time to head to the Lego store for the K Man. Naturally, Lego Land is under construction and NOT in the usual spot so we had to walk an extra 4999 miles to the new (temporary) location. Here's a thought...note on the maps around the mall that Lego Land is temporarily relocated. Kthanxbai! I know it's not like I couldn't use the extra walking, however, it was rather irritating.
My son is, by nature, not a good decision-maker. Or rather, not a quick decision-maker. He considers all of his options in every possible combination. It can last for hours. It is frustrating to say the least. I am quite proud of my patience yesterday. Yes, yes I am. I am also proud that my son ended up with 4 new (though small) Lego sets for his $23. He chose carefully and wisely.
This trip had several purposes for our family. My kids have been fighting almost nonstop during this break from school. I know much of it has to do with the lack of activity. I haven't felt up to the fun and trips and activities I usually plan. I hoped to get them out of the house, having fun, using their own money to buy something so they could be proud of it, and realizing at least a little bit, how good we have it.
They were fighting in the van on the way home (the Bigs...the Toddler was sleeping for much of the ride) and I tuned it out for most of the ride home. Most of the time if I ignore the whines for Moooooooom to intervene and arbitrate every dispute they figure it out on their own. I did feel the need to deliver a mini-lecture (no more than 3 minutes) about how good we have it and how we should be so grateful for all we have, especially our family. Yes, I know it goes over their heads. They are self-involved. As they should be. They are small still. But. We ARE so lucky. So I won't let them get by without calling it up at least once in a while.
Miss M wanted to go to the Mall of America. I was reluctant to go, but after I made sure she understood there would be NO rides at Nickelodeon Universe and that SHE (and her brother) would need their own money to buy whatever they thought they needed there, I conceded.
My mom suggested that I ask my dad to come with us, so I did and he decided he could come along for the ride. I neglected to mention my plans of eating lunch at the American Girl Bistro. Whoops! Good thing he's a good sport.
Before we left, all three kids emptied their piggy banks and we stopped at the bank to use the change counter. M ended with $21, K had $23 and D had $65. I planned to buy D an American Girl Doll to put away for a few years until she is older, and her $65 would help pay for half of it.
We headed for AG first and purchased D's doll and M's puppy (Coconut...$20 for a little dog...what a rip off!) and headed for the Bistro. We'd never ate there before but I thought it would be fun for something different. At first K Man refused to eat there. He's a boy after all, so I don't really blame him. So I did what any (not-s0) nice mom would do and told him that he would have to go hungry then because this was where we were eating.
I asked the big kids if they wanted to "borrow" a friend to dine with. M has an AG doll, but we didn't think to bring her along. They have boy "Bitty Babies" now so I asked K if he wanted to dine with a boy "friend." At first he said no, then I just grabbed one and asked if he'd like to have lunch with that boy. He said no and picked a different one. We were on our way with our new friends and an extra seat for "Coconut" the new (expensive) addition to our family.
With the seating arranged and the meals ordered it became clear that the K Man was enjoying himself much more than he would ever admit. I think he wanted to take his new friend home with him. The waitress brought cups, plates and a tiny pitcher of pink lemonade for the dolls and the puppy. The kids had such a great time pouring lemonade for their friends (and drinking it) that they asked the waitress for 4 refills because their "friends" were so thirsty. (I was surprised that the food was as good as it was...but it is expensive.)
After lunch it was time to head to the Lego store for the K Man. Naturally, Lego Land is under construction and NOT in the usual spot so we had to walk an extra 4999 miles to the new (temporary) location. Here's a thought...note on the maps around the mall that Lego Land is temporarily relocated. Kthanxbai! I know it's not like I couldn't use the extra walking, however, it was rather irritating.
My son is, by nature, not a good decision-maker. Or rather, not a quick decision-maker. He considers all of his options in every possible combination. It can last for hours. It is frustrating to say the least. I am quite proud of my patience yesterday. Yes, yes I am. I am also proud that my son ended up with 4 new (though small) Lego sets for his $23. He chose carefully and wisely.
This trip had several purposes for our family. My kids have been fighting almost nonstop during this break from school. I know much of it has to do with the lack of activity. I haven't felt up to the fun and trips and activities I usually plan. I hoped to get them out of the house, having fun, using their own money to buy something so they could be proud of it, and realizing at least a little bit, how good we have it.
They were fighting in the van on the way home (the Bigs...the Toddler was sleeping for much of the ride) and I tuned it out for most of the ride home. Most of the time if I ignore the whines for Moooooooom to intervene and arbitrate every dispute they figure it out on their own. I did feel the need to deliver a mini-lecture (no more than 3 minutes) about how good we have it and how we should be so grateful for all we have, especially our family. Yes, I know it goes over their heads. They are self-involved. As they should be. They are small still. But. We ARE so lucky. So I won't let them get by without calling it up at least once in a while.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Gift Haiku
There is nothing that
you can give a man who has
everything already.
Happy Birthday Dad! We love you!
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Ugh
So I went to a doctor yesterday instead of just the nurse that I went to on Sunday. He took one look in my throat and said "Wow, that looks painful" and prescribed penicillin based on the fact that my symptoms came on suddenly and the looks of my throat. Three doses in and my throat is feeling about 80 percent better, which is good, except last evening it felt better than it does this morning.
My dad is coming to watch the kids again for a bit this morning so I can rest some more. He is such a great Boppa. I'm grateful I have him to help.
My guess is that I will be much better by this afternoon. I hope. I feel badly that my kids are missing out on the "fun" I promised them during their school break. It seems that at least one of us is sick at every break though. With any luck we'll be building a cookie house or painting bird houses this afternoon.
I'm sick of being sick. How are you?
My dad is coming to watch the kids again for a bit this morning so I can rest some more. He is such a great Boppa. I'm grateful I have him to help.
My guess is that I will be much better by this afternoon. I hope. I feel badly that my kids are missing out on the "fun" I promised them during their school break. It seems that at least one of us is sick at every break though. With any luck we'll be building a cookie house or painting bird houses this afternoon.
I'm sick of being sick. How are you?
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
A Plain Paper Crane...or Two
One of the beautiful and yet heartbreaking things about having young children is that they think that Mom and Dad can do anything. The bubble about knowing everything, however has long been burst. My oldest 2 kids will ask me a question and when I don't say "I don't know" because sometimes I don't know, and actually give them an answer they usually contradict me and give their own answer. Or they'll say "No, Mrs. M said that (insert answer here) is why." To which I wonder why they asked me anyway since clearly I am stupid and know nothing. I honestly thought I had at least until M was 10 or 12 before I was tossed aside as an authority on anything.
Things have been different with regard to doing everything. Even Miss M at nearly 7 years old still believes, for the most part, that Mom and Dad can fix things, and we can make things. I'll admit the fix things ability belief causes more than a few toys to be destroyed around here, especially when K Man is involved. He's a tinkerer, like a male Tinkerbelle, he's interested in how things work and how he can make something new. It often results in destruction, innocent destruction because he's intent that he'll make something new. I blame my father. He's a fixer, a tinkerer. K Man has Boppa's blood for sure.
The belief that us parents can make things came back to bite, first me, then Craig in our respective behinds last week. K Man received what is actually his penultimate book from the Dolly Parton Imagination Library. I did not read the book, but Craig read the book to the kids. It obviously left quite an impression because both kids were still talking about it the next morning as we took M to school. They chattered about the bird, the paper crane named Menu. They discussed how I would make them paper cranes.
No, no, no. I do not know how to make a paper crane. I was determined to snuff out this pipe dream instantly. I do not know origami. There was no way in Hell that I would be able to fake that I did.
Oh there are directions in the book Mommy!
Of course there are! How kind of the author! She must hate parents!
The excuse of not knowing was no longer valid. I had directions. K talked me into making him a crane as soon as we arrived back home after dropping M off at school.
I chose a large 12 x 12 paper from my scrapping supply. K held the book. At first. I started confidently, then my confidence waned, then fizzled. The wordless photo instructions were not that intuitive. Or I'm an idiot. It could be either, or both. I continued to fold. I tried and tried again. I vowed Craig would be making the next paper crane for M.
By step 6 or 7 out of 20 K was no longer holding the book. He wandered away as I continued to slave. It had, by then, become a challenge. I could conquer this paper. I graduated from my university summa cum laude. Paper folding has nothing on me!
Oh Friends. I am not a paper artist apparently. I make cards, but that does not an origami artist make. But I endeavored to create this paper bird that my son was no longer interested in having, or seeing me create. But I am a Taurus, and stubborn to the end. I would make a paper crane.
And I did. I folded and folded and re-folded and eventually ended up with something that sort of resembled a crane. It was not quite right and not quite wrong. My son was thrilled. His faith that Mommy hangs the moon was intact.
After school, Miss M was peeved that I had not made her a crane too. Oh no, I said, Daddy wants to make one for you. See? I love my husband and I really think he should participate fully in these types of family activities. I didn't want him to miss out on the fun.
Craig arrived home and Miss M asked him to make her a crane 4287 times in about 20 minutes. After we ate supper, Craig sat down with the fresh piece of scrapbook paper to fold Miss M her crane.
He began with confidence. He folded and folded. Then the folding slowed. Miss M began watching contentedly, excitedly, but then she asked for release. It was painful. She wanted to avoid witnessing the fall of her idol.
Because I was laughing at Craig's pain, he needed to scratch his head a lot. Apparently he uses his middle finger to scratch his head.
I let all squirm for a while, then I took over. My second crane was nearly as painful to fold, and turned out only slightly better.
I still find it fantastic that my children think their parents can do so much right even as we do so much wrong. We continue to try to make our lives better, more full of love. And the evidence of our trials can be seen in an awkwardly folded paper crane.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Monday, August 4, 2008
Sometimes Alcohol is the Answer
I drank a wine cooler last night. It was wild berry flavored and it was good. It was one I bought at Target though, so it was not a full-strength drink. This is Minnesota after all. Liquor stores aren't even open on Sunday.
I drank a wine cooler last night because yesterday my oldest child spent much of the day moaning and whining about her leg, her tummy, her head...everything hurt.
I drank a wine cooler last night because my son smacked me in the face yesterday afternoon as I was trying to buckle his seat belt.
I'm drinking a wine cooler tonight too. I may even have two. Hey, they're small.
Today started with M waking with a spiking fever again at 2 a.m. I got a little more sleep until 4 a.m. arrived with K screaming from his room. D, not to be left out, also woke at 4 to eat.
As close to Super woman as I am, I anticipated that I would need some help today. It is hard enough to deal with one sick kid. TWO sick kids and an infant? Sounds like a great time.
At the too-early hour of 8 a.m. (after being up with kids multiple times during the night) I called our family doctor's office to try to make appointments for M and K. 4 p.m. was the earliest appointment they had. Nice.
So I called my dad and begged him to come and lend me a couple of extra hands. When he arrived I took a shower and then we planned to take the kids to the walk-in clinic in Target.
As soon as we walked out of the house and into the garage, K barfed.
The day was not improving with age.
There were no other patients waiting at Target so the kids were seen pretty much immediately. M? Strep throat. K? Double ear infection.
Load us up with the drugs.
I spent the remainder of the day dispensing medication, taking a short nap and trying to clone myself since all three of my kids wanted mommy, Mommy, MOMMY!
Tomorrow, in theory, should be better since they will have had a few doses of their antibiotics.
But I'm still drinking those wine coolers.
I drank a wine cooler last night because yesterday my oldest child spent much of the day moaning and whining about her leg, her tummy, her head...everything hurt.
I drank a wine cooler last night because my son smacked me in the face yesterday afternoon as I was trying to buckle his seat belt.
I'm drinking a wine cooler tonight too. I may even have two. Hey, they're small.
Today started with M waking with a spiking fever again at 2 a.m. I got a little more sleep until 4 a.m. arrived with K screaming from his room. D, not to be left out, also woke at 4 to eat.
As close to Super woman as I am, I anticipated that I would need some help today. It is hard enough to deal with one sick kid. TWO sick kids and an infant? Sounds like a great time.
At the too-early hour of 8 a.m. (after being up with kids multiple times during the night) I called our family doctor's office to try to make appointments for M and K. 4 p.m. was the earliest appointment they had. Nice.
So I called my dad and begged him to come and lend me a couple of extra hands. When he arrived I took a shower and then we planned to take the kids to the walk-in clinic in Target.
As soon as we walked out of the house and into the garage, K barfed.
The day was not improving with age.
There were no other patients waiting at Target so the kids were seen pretty much immediately. M? Strep throat. K? Double ear infection.
Load us up with the drugs.
I spent the remainder of the day dispensing medication, taking a short nap and trying to clone myself since all three of my kids wanted mommy, Mommy, MOMMY!
Tomorrow, in theory, should be better since they will have had a few doses of their antibiotics.
But I'm still drinking those wine coolers.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Friday, September 14, 2007
Way Too Fast
The four of them together are a formidable group to an outsider. They are cousins and they're close. Close in age and in relationship. The older two are 7 months apart in age, the younger two, 3 months. Cousins and friends.
Since the older two were born, we've spent nearly every Friday at my parents' house visiting my Dad (or Boppa if you want the kids to know who you're talking about) who retired (mostly) shortly after my brother's oldest was born.
The result of the cousins getting together regularly and often since they were very young (I know they are still young) has been that they get along famously. And terribly. They get along like siblings.
This morning, Miss M had a late-start for school so school started 2 hours later than usual. We took the opportunity to go play at Boppa's house with the cousins.It was chilly today with highs in the 50s, but we're hearty Minnesotans and the kids still played outside. B took M in the house to show her his photo of himself on his 4-wheeler that he was taking to his afternoon Kindergarten show-and-tell today. The four of them used Boppa's tools, hammers, a saw, screwdrivers, to destroy cardboard boxes. They rode bikes 2 driveways down, then turned around because that's as far as Boppa says they can go. They pretended to mow the lawn.
They stood in a line at the end of the driveway to watch the refuse truck arrive to pick up the trash from the house across the street.
My Dad turned to me with watery eyes (hey, it was cold and windy today) and commented "They're growing up way too fast."
Indeed they are.
Indeed they are.
Sunday, August 12, 2007
It's a Family Reunion...
Today was a family reunion for my Dad's family. He is the oldest of seven children that my grandmother had. My Dad's biological father was killed in WWII, then my grandmother remarried and had 6 more kids.
Having seven children results in having several grandchildren. Here I am with some of my cousins. (Three were not at the reunion.)
Kind of scary that I'm one of the short ones since I've always been considered "tall."
Thirteen grandchildren who get married and have families of their own result in a large reunion. Today, we had 49 people and there were some people who did not come.
Families that are this large tend to have favorite, and not-so-favorite people in the family. I see some cousins regularly, and others next-to-never. I get along fairly well with all of my cousins. It's the Aunts and Uncles that are somewhat hard to take sometimes. That being said, everyone was fairly well-behaved today. The siblings shared stories of growing up on the farm. Not many sugary-sweet memories, but that's life I guess. We all still loved my grandparents, for all their quirky, stern ways.
My cousin Ryan, (he's the tall one in the red shirt next to me up there in the photo) who is 4 months older than me was there with his wife and their kids. He and I have always gotten along well. We don't see one another very often, but he always gives me a big hug when he sees me and before he leaves. I saw him at a bar when we were in our younger (ahem) days. He was there with a girl, but he wanted to dance so he kept getting me out on the dance floor. I made sure the girl knew I was his cousin, but she still got mad and left. Ryan and I found it funny. Obviously, she was not the love of his life! Speaking of his wife, she and I gave birth to our boys 2 days apart. July 29 (K) and July 31. Sarah says she will always know when at least one of Ryan's cousins kids were born because of that.
Anywho. Reunions. Bah. It's sort of nice to see people when nobody has died though. Pretty much all the cousins that are going to get married already are, so we won't be getting together for that reason. For some of my relatives, this was the first time they'd ever met K man. Of course, they think both my kids are adorable and more than one person commented about how much M looks like me. (Or like I did as a kid, more like.)
Who knows when we'll get together again.
........................................
Tonight M was telling me that her and K were going to have a baby when they grew up. I explained that we don't marry our brothers (at least not in Minnesota).
Well, Daddy isn't my brother.
Oh yeah! Who is your brother again?
Well, Uncle Jason is my brother.
Oh yeah, he married Kristi. I like Kristi. It's a good thing he found her.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Random kid stories
I am fortunate enough to have my Dad be willing to watch my kids if I need him. K has become difficult to bring along to Miss M's swimming lessons so I asked my Dad if he would babysit. I now am able to actually watch Miss M's lesson and cheer her on when she does something new (which, it seems like, is every lesson these days). My Dad comes out to our house to watch K. K thinks it's fabulous to have Boppa all to himself. (M generally comments on the way to her lesson I wonder what Boppa and K are doing now?) So she's a little jealous, but K doesn't get to go swimming like she does. (Her swimming teacher showed surprise at M's progress several times today. M can swim better than I can at this point and she's only been taking lessons twice a month for 1 year.)
When it is time for Boppa to leave, he is met with this:
When it is time for Boppa to leave, he is met with this:
K locks the door and thinks that his little body is enough to keep Boppa in the house. However, the last couple of times, Daddy has come home as Boppa is preparing to leave. Then, K runs to his daddy and gives him a big hug. Back to the door, to unlock it. Bye Boppa! K shouts. He has been dismissed.
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Speaking of Boppa watching K, we were at my Mom and Dad's house a week or two ago and I left K with my dad while I took Miss M to preschool. While I was gone K apparently found some of my mom's nail polish and painted his nails. My dad had removed the evidence before I got back, but he tells me that K did a remarkably good job.
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Miss M and K were playing in her room this morning. She'd created a game that involved puzzle pieces and 2 shoe boxes. "Pick a box Daddy-O!" She told K. I had to ask where she got that saying from. "From the Tad movie Mom." Oh. The Leap Frog Letter Factory. It's one of the better places she's picked up an expression.
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Speaking of Boppa watching K, we were at my Mom and Dad's house a week or two ago and I left K with my dad while I took Miss M to preschool. While I was gone K apparently found some of my mom's nail polish and painted his nails. My dad had removed the evidence before I got back, but he tells me that K did a remarkably good job.
_______________
Miss M and K were playing in her room this morning. She'd created a game that involved puzzle pieces and 2 shoe boxes. "Pick a box Daddy-O!" She told K. I had to ask where she got that saying from. "From the Tad movie Mom." Oh. The Leap Frog Letter Factory. It's one of the better places she's picked up an expression.
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