The first year I dreaded Father's Day.  There were other days to worry about, his birthday, the anniversary of his passing ..... But Father's Day came first and I was scared of how it would feel.  I hated every  card display.   Every commercial.  Maybe I still do.  But what I learned is that it doesn't take a "special day" to have it hit me all over again.  You can't anticipate the pangs of grief.  They sneak up on you, catch you completely off guard.  They are a certain song, a movie preview, a great joke..... When  you need advice on retirement planning, your daughter scores the winning goal, or scrubs in on her first surgery.  It's when your think to yourself "I can't wait to tell him ....." , before you remember you can't.    He's gone.  It sucks.  It sucks everyday. Not just the third Sunday in June.

I grew up with a Dad and two Grandfathers, into adulthood.

  My Grandpa Murphy passed away when I was 20, but he was there as I grew up, soccer games, dance recitals, when I graduated, and he was able to meet my boyfriend who a few months became my fiancé, and then my husband.  later. 

My Grandpa Heaton died when I was 27. I danced with him at my wedding, bought our first house across the street from him, and shed tears when he explained to me how very honored he was that my first born carried the love of his life’s name.  I was able to watch him spoil her with an unlimited supply of cookies & and the kit kats he kept stashed next to his chair.  

For years I felt cheated, that my girls never had the chance to meet Grandpa Murphy.  And Libby never had the chance to meet Grandpa Heaton. 

I wasn’t cheated.  I was lucky. 

Samantha was 14, and Libby 9 when they lost Sam’s Dad.   

They were 15 and 10, when they lost my dad.... less than 10 months later. 

They won’t have that.  Their grandpas weren’t there to see how pretty they looked headed off to their first formal, to see them drive a car, or at  graduation.  They won’t be there to meet the boy they marry, or dance with them at their wedding. 

I wasn’t cheated.  They were.  

I know that others have been cheated worse.  They were children when they lost their Dad.   Or they are dads who lost their children.  

I know that my feelings are not rated at the top of the hierarchy of loss.  

But they are my feelings.  And it makes my heart hurt.  And it pisses me off.  And I miss my Dad.  

Loss....

There has been a lot of loss the past couples years.   What I have learned is that loss does not always come in the shape of death.   It comes as disappointment.   It comes as betrayal.   It comes as being made a metaphorical punching bag, for the wrongs you are being judged for. Wrongs that are .... well... wrong.  Situations that are either misunderstood. Or imagined.

My automatic response to every one of these hurts, these losses. ...is silence. 

Not initially.   Not when I am alone.  When the thoughts of the people taken over the last two years, most way before their time, and one, who shaped me as a person, When I think of those people, the agony,   the fear, the gut wrenching pain bubbles up....  I have just enough time to pack it down.  Pack it away in an imaginary box, seal it up, and store it in the back of my mind.  Waiting for a time when I will be able to let those boxes open.  Sort through.  Hold onto what is precious. Mourn for what is lost.  And maybe shed a tear.

When I think of the people no longer in my life....  It is a different sort of pain.  A different hurt.  One that, although not as deep,  stings more.  These losses are by choice.   Not by deaths hand, but by their own hand.

There is a fine line between being passive and kind.... and being a doormat.   And I am sick of the footprints all over my heart. I deserve better.  

Today I am packing away the last of those boxes.  For awhile I pray.  Because I just don't think that I have room for even one more.  And I'm just not ready to sort through the pain.  Not yet. 

My beautiful sister-in-law Jerilynne asked me .....  "Why is it okay for certain people to hurt your feelings over and over and over , and say things that are not true? Why is it okay for them to do that to you, and you won't strike back? Even when you are right. Even when you are the one with the truth.  Do you think you aren't good enough? Do you think you don't deserve it ? ".

I didn't have an answer.   I figured that my silence would speak more than my voice ever could.   But that isn't the answer.   I figured the answer out today ....

I would rather take the pain.  Then to hurt back.  Why hurt back ? Why hurt anyone at all..... If I hurt back, I will be no different. 

When I am ready.  I'll "unpack" these boxes in the back of my mind.  I'm just not strong enough yet. I'll let in the memories.  The sadness.  The joy.   Of those that were called home before their time... 

And the others .... I don't know.  I'm tired of having people wipe their feet on me. 

Confessions...

I'm not completely obsessed with facebook.  I check, once every ..... hour or so....  I wonder if there is a support group somewhere? 

I'm fascinated with how perfect everyone's life is.  Perfect relationships, perfect children, perfect vacations, perfect holidays.  Perfect hair. 

I don't know that last time I was with a group of friends, a picture was taken and I didn't scream "no tags without permission".  (I guess you would have to be on facebook to understand the lingo, but basically if you 'tag' a photo with a persons name it becomes visible on their facebook homepage for all to see.)

I look at my "friend's" pictures all the time.... but I look at the backgrounds.... is their house messy?  How is their decorating ?   It's snarky.  But I can't help myself.

The ironic thing about all of this is that I am basically a very honest person.  But when it comes to the "image" I want to portray .... I only share the good.... for example:

Event: Sammy and I went to Olive Garden for dinner

FB status :  On a hot date 

Backstory:  We were supposed to leave the house at 6, but Sammy didn't get in the shower until 6, because he was having a beer with the neighbors.

Confession: Before Sam got in the shower, and during his shower, I let the hot water run full blast in the kitchen.  This was he would run out of hot water.

Event:  4th grade awards ceremony

FB status:  So proud of Libby !  National Fitness Award, Citizenship Award, Student Council Rep, and appointed a safety for next year !

Backstory:  Libby woke up with a fever that morning

Confession:  I gave her Motrin, and sent her to school for the ceremony, and brought her home right afterwards.  I mean, what the heck??? If other parents had kept their sick kids home, then Libby wouldn't have a fever, and wouldn't have to miss her big day.  And even worse..... jeez, if i hadn't given her Motrin, she would probably be relaxing on the couch instead of bouncing off the walls and wanting me to entertain her.  (I'm a little ashamed of that last one)

FB Status:  I love my girls

Backstory:  One can be as mean as a snake, and the other is a little Tasmanian devil leaving a trail of toys, dolls, books, hairbrushes, and food wrappers in her wake.

Confession:  I called Samantha a bitch that day, and threatened to throw out every toy Libby owns.

FB Status:  Thank Goodness for coffee !

Backstory: my sleep was interrupted.

Confession:  When Libby came into my room to tell me she couldn't sleep, I ignored her.  I knew that she would say it once or twice, and then wake Sammy up to tell him. He will get up.  See the thing is, he will fall back asleep right away, whereas if I get up, I'm up....I'll toss and turn for a couple hours probably more, and eventually end up going downstairs to watch TV until it's time to "wake-up".  I don't look at it as being a bad parent, I look at it as a coping mechanism.


FB Status:  Looking forward to spending the day with my family !
Backstory:  We will all be home, and planned the day together.
Confession:  No,  no I'm not.  I just want alone time.  I want to take a nap.  Use the bathroom uninterrupted.  I want to watch movies, or go to the movies, and eat whatever I order in. 


FB Status:  I would like to publicly apologize to my husband for hitting snooze for 45 minutes this morning.
Backstory:  I set 4 different alarms at different times because I know I will hit snooze over and over, and I am terrified I will oversleep.
Confession:  I don't feel bad at all.  Not even a little guilty.  We all have quirks.


I wish I was even half as competent, organized, happy, and optimistic as my facebook would lead someone to believe.....

I just hope that everyone else does the same.

July 6, 2012

It's been awhile.....

When I think about the fact that I used to update this blog with funny stories, venting, and pouring my heart out, I wonder how I've made it through so long without updating,  then I remembered....  facebook.  and wine.  and good friends.  and wine.

Growing up as a child of an alcoholic, I was programmed at some point of my life to believe that all alcohol is bad.  It's the root of all evil.  And while I will acknowledge that it is the root of some evils (to be fair , the fun evils...) as I've gotten older I've realized, that truly it's operator error. 

I've often joked that having a few not only makes me feel more social, it also makes me funnier, stronger, prettier, and a much better dancer.  What I have missed all along is that it also magically turns everyone else funnier, stronger, and better looking.  So from now on, if I decide to partake in a few glasses of wine, or beer, or a pina colada or 5,  I think I'll chalk it up to just making the company I am with more interesting... 

Cheers to the weekend.

moments....

I know that people generally tend to measure the passing of time in months, years, hours, days.... When they turn a certain age, or when their baby starts school, they stop & realize how fast time has flown by. That the children are growing up.

I certainly know how old my babies are .... Samantha is 166 months, and Libby 98 months. Weird? Maybe. But it sounds a lot less scary than almost 14, and 8.

When I think of how my girls have grown, I think of moments. Not milestones.

My moments have been small, but poignant.

My moments have been being asked if it's okay to "make" people knock before they come into her bedroom.

It's evolving from momma, to mommy, and then to mom.

It's turning around when she asks me a question, and realizing that we are now eye to eye.

It's the kiss me in the house so no one at the bus stop sees.

It is switching over to regular sized hangers in her closet, and packing away the "kid" sized ones.

It is when the happy meal switches over to a regular meal .

It's been reaching my hand down and waiting for that little hand to slip in automatically, and it doesn't. Instead she is looking up at me, telling me she is okay, she doesn't need me. She is okay without me.

There are so many of these moments. Each & every day.

I know that time must pass, children must grow. But I never realized it would make my heart ache so much.

Silly & Sunshine

I'm trying to live my life more like my 7 year old. Does that seem silly?

She is kind of silly. I don't remember the exact moment when being silly was no longer a part of my day. I'm always in too much of a hurry ............

When we were walking into religious ed about a month ago there were puddles everywhere & being a good mom, I reminded Libby to walk around them, to hurry up, and not to get her feet wet...... and she asked me "why not"?

I stopped & thought about it.....

She was wearing flip flops, so her feet would dry, and it would tack on all of 90 seconds to our arrival time. So I let her. She jumped as high as she could & landed smack in the middle of the puddle, and the next one & the next one. Silly. That made me feel like a good mom.

Then on the way in to the building, she wanted to walk right along the edge of the sidewalk stepping over curbs, going around obstacles, and taking a longer path . I asked her why? My way was shorter, quicker, easier.

She informed me that her path had the sunshine. Mine had the shadows. She told me that she always picks the sunshine. Even if it's longer or has curbs and garbage cans.

So I'm going to try to be more like my 7 year old.



I'll try to be more silly, and I'm certainly going to choose sunshine.

Diversity......

The children have off of school on Monday to celebrate the birth of Martin Luther King Jr. When Libby was in kindergarten she learned about this wonderful American Hero, and the great things he accomplished. It was also around this time that she decided that, she too, was African-American.

I don't know how she came to this realization, nor did I know what to do with it. My Dad is from England, and the family has been for generations. My Mom is Irish, and Ukrainian, but with both her parents born in the U.S.A. Sam's Dad is Italian, with I believe at least the last two generations born here. Sam's Mom was Canadian. So my children's genealogy is diverse, but not diverse enough I guess. So Libby decided to change it, or add to it. I didn't correct her.... She was so very proud of her new heritage, and her new hero.

We began having a heart to hearts about what principals MLK believed in, and how every person is equal, how boring life would be if we all looked exactly the same. She would bring the subject up daily.

One afternoon while coloring, Libby told me that she wished she could go back in time....

I'm thinking, to when ?

Last summer when we were in Disney?
October to have her birthday party again?
Last night so she could finish her desert?

She said that she wanted to go back in time and tell all the people that they just need to be nice. That everything would be okay if we could all just be nice. She was so so sad that people wouldn't treat other African-Americans nicely. She just knew that if she could go back in time, she could make them understand.

I felt so proud, and so sad for her at the same time. I wanted to tell her that things are different now, and to a large extent they are. But there is still prejudice in this world. Not only against people of a different color skin, but also people with different religions, economic statuses, and sexual orientations.

Gradually her obsession with MLK faded. And even sadder, someone (I don't know who) broke the news to her that she wasn't African-American.

Then came the Obama elections ! She was in her glory ! And I was happy thinking she had rekindled her interest in diversity! Then came that moment again, just like in kindergarten when she wanted to change the world.........

We were in the car, just after President Obama was sworn in, and she was telling me about how he was the first African-American president, told me that she really wished that she could be president. Of course I told her that one day she could.....

And I started smiling to myself just imagining the wonderful pearls of wisdom that were about to come out of my six year old's mouth..... was it going to be about equality ? about the poor ? about changing the world?

She told me that when she became president she would make it a law that everyone who had a pool would get a slide for it, and people who didn't have pools would get a pool, AND a slide.

Ahhhhhhhh, to be six.

There's time for her to worry about the moral compass of the world. For now I'm glad she's worried about swimming pools......

It takes a village...

I remember hearing this from Hillary Clinton, I don't know how long ago & not really getting it.

But I understand now. Although I think it should be different.... it takes a village to not only raise a child, but also to create the kind of person that we are. And I think it changes every day. I know that for me with each new person & new experience, I change a little bit.

I have taken a part of a childhood friend, who amazed me our senior year when she went out to breakfast by herself. It might not seem like a strange thing, but I just thought it was the bravest thing. And I have learned that a little alone time is not only okay, but it's healthy. Thank You Jennie.

I have taken a part of my neighbor who is so good to the environment & animals. And a few years back started using those recycling bins to try to do our part, instead of just using them to make snow forts. Thank You Sue.

I have taken a part of my mother-in-law who can always seem to find the good in people, and a rational way of thinking of things, when I tend to be hot-headed & over analyzing. Thank You Diane.

I have taken a part of my sister-in-law who speaks her mind, and trusts in herself. When I have always been too afraid that my opinion was insignificant. Thank You Shelley.

I have taken a part of my other sister-in-law who is the kindest person that I have ever known. Her thoughtfulness and compassion have made me strive to be a better person. Thank You Jerilynne.

I have taken a part of my husband, who has told me a hundred times, that everyone puts their pants on one leg at a time, just like me, and that no one is better than anyone else. Thank You Sammy.

I have taken a part of my oldest friend, who is such an amazing mother. Not only is she not afraid to let everyone know how much she loves her children and how proud she is, her enthusiasm spills over to everyone around her, and it has made me a better mother. Thank You Kristi.

I have taken a part of one of my best friends from high school, who can laugh at herself, even when things happen that can be really frustrating. Not only can I laugh at myself, but I know that there is someone out there who often feels exactly how I do. Thank You Julie.

I have taken a part of my Aunt, who in the face of a battle for her life, was making jokes, to ease everyone's concern. And I've begun to look for the silver lining & the laughter . Thank You Aunt Susan.


I have taken a part of my Mother, who has continued to love unconditionally in the best and worst of circumstances, who still lets me vent at her (which is different then venting to her, venting at her isn't always nice). And I've tried to love without conditions. Thank You Mom.

I have taken a part of my beautiful daughter, who came home to tell me that a fellow student was being mocked at school for wearing braids in her hair, then the next day asked me to braid her hair the same way & proudly wore it to school that way. She sticks up for the underdog. Thank You Samantha.

I have taken a part of my other beautiful daughter, her sensitivity amazes me. As a 5 year old she told me how she wanted to go back in time, to the days of Martin Luther King Jr. so she could tell everyone that they just need to be nice to each other. If they could just do that, there wouldn't be so many things wrong with the world. And so I've tried to just be nice. Thank You Libby.

I have watched old friends lose husbands & children. And fight their way back from a depth of despair I never knew existed. Then turn around and do amazing things. I am humbled to have taken a part of that. It has made me love deeper & appreciate each and every day. I thank them.

There are a million other people that make up who I am..... and I thank them .

I love my village....

'til death do us part .....

I want to re-write my wedding vows. Then I want to have a do-over with the whole ceremony so that I know the important things that should be promised, are promised.

I don't know how much I would change about mine, but the parts that Sam has to say I would most certainly like to add some things...

For example ...

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I promise to pick up my wrappers & drink cans from the end table before I go to bed each & every night.

I swear to never complain about the way you cook, do laundry, make the bed, or clean. I will simply always appreciate the effort.


I promise to always go grocery shopping with you, I eat the food too, therefore would love to participate in the selecting of it.

I will never ask for a "prize" just to go to wal-mart or target with you. I will go just for the sheer pleasure of spending time together.

I swear that my clothes will always make it into the hamper.

I promise to stop hanging towels off the bedroom door, and to never ever just toss them into the tub, because someone could accidentally soak them when they turn the shower on.

I will not hog the covers.

I promise to always hold onto your purse when you ask me, and I will do so proudly because it will show everyone that I do not feel emasculated by helping my wife out.

and most importantly ...

I will always leave the room to fart because I realize that they just don't smell the same to you as they do to me.

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Then there is one part that I would simply edit, I'm sure you'll recognize it .....




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.... for richer or for poorer, in sickness, which by the way I promise to never act like a big giant crybaby complaining so much that you'll want to jam ice picks in your ears to just make it stop, and I will realize that if indeed I expect the world to stop because I don't feel well, then if you are ever sick, I will make sure that you have nothing to do other than feel better because I will take care of the house & children, and in health, 'til death do us part.....

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I'm sure he wouldn't want to change a thing on mine ...................

Holiday Road...... the finale

I'm sorry. I just can't do it. I thought it would be one of those things that were frusterating when the happened, and be funny later on..... It's not. Please understand while we were in NC, it was one of the most relaxing & wonderful vacations we've had..... It was getting there, and getting home....

Each time one of my girls says something like "if we walked to North Carolina instead of driving would we be there yet? " (Libby) or "Two months ago today we were driving to North Carolina" (Sam), my stomach flips, I break out in a cold sweat, and I bury my head in my hands trying to think nice thoughts, and to not remember......

Nope, it's not funny yet.

I will wrap it up though, it's been like a hang-nail waiting, and hurting a little, so I'll just go ahead & rip it off quick & hopefully without pain....

Our "detour" put us 100 miles out of the way. Up a mountain with a road so narrow I thought we were going to tip over the edge. I swear I was leaning in towards Sam as he drove (the edge was on my side of the van) with my book in front of my face so he couldn't see my eyes were closed..... Well he did.... didn't appreciate it much either..... Once we were safe again, the mountain road ended at V. With no signs & Sammy was almost yelling/chanting "which way, which way, which way you're the one with the map!!! which way, which way....." Well I offered up a prayer & guessed & a few miles down the road, we were right !!!! Hooray!

There was one "missed a turn" & having to back-track about 20 miles...... Then (I forget where) there was a college game going on , and the traffic was reminisent of rt. 81....

I almost can't talk about it anymore....

Let's just say we arrived & we arrived safe. My father-in-law was kind enough to have a bottle of wine waiting for me, so the first thing I did was pour myself a glass... We had been at the house for approximately three minutes....

I walked away for a minute...... 30 seconds..... and in his excitement of unwrapping the zwiegel hot dogs we brought down with us, my father-in-law knocked the whole glass, of RED wine, onto the WHITE carpet in the dining room..... in this same moment Sammy yelled from the bedroom that the dog had just jumped up onto our bed & peed all over it. I felt as if our craziness followed us right into the house..... I thought they might just ask us to leave..... but they didn't..... and the carpet eventaully came clean, and we kept the dog off the bed.... and we had a great time :)

Until we had to drive home.......


p.s. My in-laws are coming to visit in a few weeks. They are flying.....

Book III : Holiday Road

.... sorry it's taken so long, but for those of you anxiously awaiting the rest of the story, here we go .....



We traveled through West Virginia with NO PROBLEMS! Of course I think we were only in West Virginia for about 10 minutes, and even the Cerami Family can usually muddle through 10 minutes without too much drama.



So as we are headed into Virginia on route 81, we notice traffic slowing down, slowing down, and stopping. Yup, stopping right on the highway. Stopping like people were out of their vehicles walking around.



The first half hour was funny, we thought that there was no way that this was actually happening, and thank goodness we had made good time earlier on in the day, you know we still wanted to arrrive in Pinehurst while it was light.



It wasn't until sometime in the next hour that you could feel the tension rising in the van.



We were crawling along the highway at this point. The kind of crawling that is stay in park until the person in front of you moves 2 feet, then just put it in drive & roll forward a bit. It was at this point that Sam's back was hurting. Did I mention that he drove the whole way? If I didn't I don't know how I could have forgotten, he sure didn't let me forget... even though I offered, a lot. (and of course prayed he would say no, but he doesn't know that). But his back hurt, and he had driven the whole way. Oh and his back hurt & he had driven the whole way, but you know I felt bad for him because his back hurt and he had driven the whole way.



About 10 minutes into the next hour, everyone but me had to pee. I spoke with my dad who suggested they use an empty pop bottle, he must of forgotten that I have GIRLS, and when I suggested it to Sam, he was just insulted !



I will leave out the parts where Sammy would ask if he should try to switch lanes & if he did and someone from our old lane passed us, he would grumble & swear under his breathe. Seems he memorized every car in a mile long line around us, and could remember exactly where we "could have been" or "should have been" had he not listened to me.

ANyway, 2 1/2 hours and about a mile stretch of highway & we were finally moving :) We exicted at the next exit, ate, used the bathrooms, and as we were about to get back on rt. 81 we noticed that it was again at a stand still. Thank goodness I had the AAA map ! (stupid route Sammy had to take) so I found a way of getting to where we had to go & it was only about 1/2 inch on the map. Less than that, a 1/4 inch. I showed Sam & he agreed . Let me say that again..... HA AGREED. So off we go.

You know maps are a funny thing....

TO BE CONTINUED

Holiday Road, part B

Okay......... so we planned on leaving the house at 5:00 a.m. My Mom was gracious enough to come over that day too (she already had Mon & Tues duty) to put all the daycare kids on the bus for me, so that we could get an early start & not finish our drive when it was dark out.

.... seeing of course that we wouldn't be familiar with the territory because we had not gone that way before.... You know, the one we didn't have a trip-tick for......

So we loaded up, and off we went..... pretty uneventful until we hit Williamsport, PA. Samantha started to feel naseous, and dizzy, and had a headache, and was tired, and was hot, no cold, no hot..........
So being the attentive, doting parents we are we tried telling her she was fine. That it's just in her head, that she's just hungry.....WRONG! Apparently she gets car sick :(

We were lucky enough that she waited until we could get the door open for her to lean out it. So as we are guiltily (is that a word?) hovering around her, as the tears stream down her face & she has that "i told you so" look in her eyes, Libby starts to tell us that she is car sick too. And we.......... tell her to be quiet. And she is complaining......... and we tell her to be quiet...... so in frusteration I tell Sam, "just go see what she need". And guess what she needed?

Yup, to begin throwing up. I think Sam & I should get some kind of award don't you?

So I go to the back of the van to get something from the trunk & I open it, and the cooler FLIES out at me, lands on my foot, opens & spits all our soda's, capri sun's & ice all across the parking lot. I tell you it's a good thing I had Sam there to yell at me about how wrong I was for opening the trunk, or I would have never learned that your supposed to get at the stuff in the trunk by what? drilling a while in the roof & leaning in ??????. No fear though, a perfect stranger came over & helped me pick everything up, while Sam continued to b*t%h.

Anyway, potty break & breakfast, I re-pack the front seat & we are off again ! And I'm so so s o glad that I had thought to keep plastic bags in the front seat because sure enough, anout 45 minutes later, my poor Samantha was hurling again.

So we hit Maryland, and we can see a Wal-Mart. Just off the highway...... so we figured two birds, one stone.... we'll get gas and dramamine for our puking children. Gas first..... unfortunately in planning the layout of the state, the founders of Maryland decided that they would conspire, and hide all the gas stations from Sammy. Seriously, I think that that is what he was thinking happened. He complained so much that when we got to Wal-Mart, (still without gas) Samantha asked me "geez what did Maryland ever do to daddy?". So we get some snackies, dramamine, and use the potty.... and head out to find a gas station. Which (thank goodness) we do. Even though the (and I quote) "stupidist, stupidist thing I have ever seen, why even have signs for gas when they are this far off the highway, this is the dumbest thing i have ever seen" We fill up & off we go again!

more to come .............................

pics from North Carolina

Samantha & Fyfe .... Uncle Justin & Kelli's dog.

Libby was mad that her sister was in the first picture with her, she wanted one alone so .....

Samantha, Uncle Justin & Libby after his "make-over"

Uncle Justin getting a make-over by Libby !

Again, Libby is super happy to share the picture with her sister..... here they are on the 18th hole of Pinehurst #2, at the country club.

Holiday Road................ (part I )

Have you ever noticed that sometimes the funniest stories are ones that at one time where either a very frustrating moment, or a very embarrassing moment? Look in any woman's magazine & there is always a section every month where people write in about their embarrassing moments..... Over time the mortification fades, or the frustration & anger fades..... and it becomes funny.

Well we drove to North Carolina. And the trip down isn't funny.... yet. One day I'll genuinely laugh about it.... instead of pretending that it was comical.

The issues with the drive started about 3 weeks before we actually left. Weird huh? Sammy thought we needed to get AAA. I thought we paid every month for "roadside assistance" on our insurance so why bother...... Apparently if you have road side assistance and you break down in the middle of nowhere, they will pick you up, but will more than likely drop you off at a closed, unreputable garage that is closed, and there will be nothing around for miles & miles & miles. We would have to sleep in the cold van without food or bathroom until the convict mechanic decided to open. Little did I know.... but then again in my world people are all trustworthy, and innately good. Not in Sammy's. Or my Dad's. Or my brother's. Three to one, I was outvoted, so we now have AAA. And we were safe & able to be towed to an open, trustworthy place with lots of facilities. Luckily this never happened.....

Now my dad had gotten us a trip-tick. (a map showing us exactly what route to take). It however, took us way west before heading south, and it didn't make sense to Sammy. So I went and asked for one going through D.C. because I remember taking that route when we drove down 11 years ago....

( i know this because I decided to go take a spin down Pennsylvania Avenue while Sammy was sleeping on the way down last time..... unfortunatley the white house wasn't right off the exit, and we ended up in the slums of what I learned is apparently not the safest city in the U.S., so I had to wake Sammy up & let him know what I did & I am still, STILL, hearing about it. So much so that he didn't let me drive at all this time.)

Anyway back to the trip-tick. So here we have mapped out, minute by minute (literally) directions. They are a straight line from Rochester to Pinehurst. There was even an alternate route to cut out D.C. if we wanted too. Not only that but we personally had driven that way before....... Sammy however wants to take his Dad's directions. I will concede that his Dad & Diane have driven here & back a gazillon times, and I have no doubt that WHEN FOLLOWED their route is the best. (in case you are wondering there is a bit of foreshadowing in that last sentence). We followed Sammy's dad's directions ............... more on that to come......

I'll post a couple pics, so you know that we did end up there .... and fill you in more tomorrow!

Locks of Love

I am a super proud mom ! My girls patiently grew their hair until they had at least 10 inches to cut off, and donated it to locks of love :) Sam's hair grows back in quickly, and Libby had been growing it for all of her 6 years !

When I was putting Libby's hair in french braids yesterday morning, I was a bit welled up thinking that it may be a long time before I could do her hair again........

We were talking about it, and saying how even though it may take awhile to grow back in, at least she could grow it in, and that some children didn't have that option. That's when she asked if she would look funny without any hair. I didn't catch her meaning at first, and then realized that she thought she had to get it all taken off...... And she was willing to do it to help out another child.

Then I cried ......

Cake

Last Thursday I had cake for breakfast. There is a multitude of reasons why I shouldn't have cake for breakfast, or at anytime for that matter, and it got me thinking.....


Remember when you were little & everything seemed so tough? Of course now we know it wasn't. Being a grown-up is tough. I mean adolescence wasn't a walk in the park, but I'm talking about responsibilities.

There are so many responsibilities that come along with age. And if you are a parent, triple those responsibilites.

I have to take care of two (I would say three, but I fear Sammy might read this) little human beings. Granted they are both more self-sufficient than when they first arrived, but I am responsible.

For clean clothes, .. for even having clothes, for their meals, and lunch money, and homework done, and getting to dance class or soccer, or any school function on time. Does Samantha have her flute? Did Libby wear purple like she was supposed too? Did they brush their teeth, wash behind their ears? Change their underwear ? (okay that last one Sammy does on his own.... tee hee hee) Take a vitamin? Wearing a helmet? Wearing her deodorant ? Are they getting bullied? Are they bullying? Did they read all their minutes this week? Should they have more responsibilities at this age? or less?

Did I pay RG&E ? Did I budget for the nine million birthday parties we have this month? Should we get AAA before we go to NC ? Are the dishes in the machine clean or dirty? Is the litter box clean? Are we out of Parmesan cheese? Does anyone need a doctor's appointment? Is the van due for an oil change? Did I send out that birthday card, or that thank you card? Did I remember to get eggs?

See what I mean? I could go on & on & on & on, but I won't.

Being a grown-up is hard.

But I can have cake for breakfast.

11 & 5/8

One of my guilty pleasures is watching "American Dad" on Fox. It's a cartoon, and it's for adults, and its brash, and often times outright rude. But it's funny. The season premiere started with the teenage boy announcing that he had hit puberty. This immediately caused flashbacks for his parents of when their daughter had gone through puberty. They then packed their bags & planned on running away until it was over. They were scared.

I can relate.

I know what it is. The problem with puberty. It's the crying.

Not the silent tears running down her cheeks, and a slight sniffle. Not the crocodile tears like when she couldn't get what she wanted. Not the scared cry, not the hurt cry.

It's a cry that I am pretty sure comes from her toes.

It's a cry that sounds like she has just lost her best friend, and cat, all at once.

In fact if you heard it, it would break your heart. It's quite pitiful. Because it's not mean spirited. It's not a temper tantrum. She is sad.

Today she cried for about 10 minutes. Inconsolably (not that I was trying to console her, I wasn't). But before you judge her, let me tell you, the cause was very serious in nature. You see, she wanted rigatoni for lunch. She got PBJ.

I know, it's tragic beyond words, and I fully understand why this act in & of itself truly made her believe that I do not love her. That although there are children starving, the fact that she had PBJ instead of rigatoni was the biggest betrayal that I could have ever inflicted on her.

The thing is, is that she used to be reasonable. She's a good girl, don't get me wrong. But at some point in September all sense of logic & reason went out the window.

Sometimes it's going to dance class, sometimes it's not being able to go on the computer, sometimes it's rigatoni. And her world shatters.

Now bear in mind, I'm not completely ignorant, our family had a very rough summer, a lot of very serious health situations with our loved ones. I know that took a toll. But she soildered through. She went to sleep away camp for the first time for a week. Loved it wants to go for two weeks next year. Middle school started. Lots of responsibility, and independence.

I get it.

And I have expected terrible outbursts, and tantrums, and rebellion.

I got crying. And despair.

But then it's over. Forgotten. But not regretted. She feels justified in being that sad.

It's rigatoni.

What does it symbolize to her I wonder?

My mom sent this to me.......... it rang true....................


Real Mothers don't eat quiche; they don't have time to make it.
Real Mothers know that their kitchen utensils are probably in the sandbox.
Real Mothers often have sticky floors, filthy ovens and happy kids.
Real Mothers know that dried play dough doesn't come out of carpets.
Real Mothers don't want to know what the vacuum just sucked up.
Real Mothers sometimes ask 'Why me?' and get their answer when a little
voice says, 'Because I love you best.'
Real Mothers know that a child's growth is not measured by height or years
or grade...It is marked by the progression of Mommy to Mom to Mother...

A few pics....

Here are a few summer pics of my girls..... we went to Darien Lake with Tommy's family, took the girls to see the xtreme makeover house (Samantha's favorite show), checking out the first grade classroom, Sam trying out her locker combination, etc... It's been a crazy summer .... When I get time I'll update everyone !