I Want to Run Through The Halls of my High School......

I just read an e-mail from Seth!, a guy with whom I went to high school. (do you like my proper and correct grammar? Don't get used to it...I don't use "whom" often) Seems Seth! has been bustin' his butt (his words) getting ready for our class reunion. I sincerely wish I could attend, but I can't. The reasons are many and unimportant, but I truly regret that I can't go. I am curious about the old high school, though. There is a tour planned, and I'd like to see how much it has changed. There is a picnic planned for the families and a dinner bash as the main event. Mostly I would like to go and see how everyone turned out. I know that the images I have in my mind's eye of the guys and gals I suffered through, I mean successfully graduated with are far different than the , dare I say, middle aged men and women we turned out to be. And I seriously hope we all ACT differently. And, don't we all secretly want to see if that certain cheerleader/jock ever gained weight, got married, had children, got over themselves? I would really love to see Seth!, who always was an individual in a sea of people desperately trying to conform. He even legally changed his name to add that exclamation point at the end of his first name. I'm not joking! I'm thinking of adding something fancy at the end of my name, like qor e. What do you think, Seth! ?


But honestly, I can't stop thinking about how much and how little I've changed. My oldest child is a high school freshman and I watch him every morning as he gets out of the car. He leaves as Stephen, my son, and slowly becomes united with this moving sea of insecure guys and dolls trying their best to find their place in it all. You see all the stereotypes: the over confident jock, the gorgeous campus goddess, the lanky nerd, the drama types, the band geeks....but mostly you see everyguy and everygirl trying to find their niche. I don't think I ever found mine. Somewhere between band geek and complete loser, I recollect. And I still freeze when I'm around the "popular" kids, or in my case, popular adults. I still crack myself up, and get embarrassed when nobody else laughs. (yeh, that still happens) The more things change, the more they stay the same. A couple of things that have changed, though, are that I no longer care about how my butt looks in jeans and that I can no longer carry a tune on that clarinet. Just minute details, really.




Probably the only people from my graduating class that will actually read this post are Seth! and my oldest BFF Roxanne. (Love to you both) But if I could send out a message to all the other folks from SHS Class of '83, it would be....Have a great life! I should have said that 25 years ago, but I didn't know I wouldn't see you all again for so long! Also, I forgive Gary Moler for telling me I had thunder thighs our sophomore year. My kids forgive Edith Glosecki for inspiring me to say "Tardis discipuli" when one of them does something stupid. I also forgive Jim Ko for not inviting me to that party when his kitchen floor fell through. While I'm at it, I forgive Shelly Proves for pointing out that I wore fake designer shoes and had flat hair. I forgive the fashion designers during the 80's that convinced me to wear straight leg jeans. (Not a good look for ol' thunderthighs) And, dear friends, please forgive me if I ever did ANYTHING to make you all feel less than great. Retrospect is a bitch.




Have a great time at the reunion! You all look awesome; not a day over 40!! (This would be a great place for before/now pictures, if I only could learn to scan....)

Save the Drama for your Mamma

When it comes to dramatics, my kids seem to have cornered the market. (Present company excluded, Mr. Shatner)

There is always something going down, and it usually starts with a wail of MOM!!!!! He touched me, she poked me, he called me a name, she won't pick up her stuff, he's breathing my air, they won't let me do whatever dumb thing they're doing.....on and on. Some days are better than others, drama wise, but those are usually the days they are rallying together to do a group project that they fear I will not approve of, so they keep it quiet. (Moon Sand in the bathroom? How about making a stepping stone in the game room? Playdough. Ugh. I hate playdough.) But today was the topper. One of them said, "I'm telling mom because you are such a tattle-tale". I wondered if it could be delivered with a straight face. Luckily, she thought it through before she actually came to me. I heard them all laugh and apologies were said. Smugly, I was starting to feel like Mike and I might be doing something right. Right about that time, someone discovered ink spilled in the bottom of the lego box. The legos that were dumped on the floor. The carpeted floor. The ink was discovered by Clare who was scooping the legos with an ink soaked aquarium net. The finger pointing started. Who spilled the ink? Not me!!! Couldn't have been me! Had to have been him! I don't care, I shouted. Just look at this mess! Aaaugh! Six pairs of eyes looked at me with a little bit of fear mixed with a whole lot of concern. The drama nut doesn't fall too far from the drama tree. (or something like that)

The Coolest White Kid I know

The next lucky kid in line to have his own blog post is Dominic; our fifth born and best looking baby. Don't worry that I'll hurt the other kids' feelings, they all agree. Dominic was the cutest baby ever. He came out looking like a three month old with hair thicker than anything and a serious expression on his face. No ugly Winston Churchill baby pictures of Dominic!

Well, crap. That was my first attempt to scan. But you get the jist?

Here is a great example of Dom's personality. On our vacation to Hilton Head Island, he eagerly volunteered to be the sucker...I mean to be the one buried in the sand. He so very much wants to be cool in the eyes of his older siblings. They, of course, enjoy keeping him grounded. Anyway, he held it together for bit, even long enough for me to run and grab the camera. Clostrophobic outburst in three.......two......one.....

Get me outta here!


Good thing I was there to help. AFTER I took a picture, that is.

Dominic makes us laugh. He doesn't always mean to, but this kid is funny. And he is sweet. He doesn't like anyone to feel left out or sad. When he was two or three, he would cry at the music at church. Especially at touching songs. He would just weep. Now he tries to hide his tears. He does like to be cool, but that doesn't mean he won't cuddle in my lap at least once a day. And if I go to the store and have been gone an hour or so, he will run down the stairs and hug my waist when I get home like I've been gone for days. I really love that. Mike recently asked him what he thought he'd be when he grows up. He pondered for about thirty seconds and said, with complete seriousness, probably a rock star. Mike, being a dad who I'm sure had visions of supporting a garage band twenty-something year old some day, talked to him about studying hard and going to college and practical jobs. But I say ROCK ON, Dom. Dream now and save practical for later.

I love this picture of Dominic. He's mad about having to get his hair combed before church. Look at how cute he is! I think I love it because it looks just like his newborn baby picture. Same hair, same look on the face....classic.

Lighten Up Already!

Just a quick post today. I noticed that the last couple of postings were a little heavy. I thought these pictures would lighten things up a bit. It is a cloudy day here in T-town, so here's a little sunshine to brighten my day and hopefully yours! By the way, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ARMANDE!!!!!! We love you! And we eat a candle in your honor!

Some good lookin' kids, right? Hmmmm...how did Maggie get the nick-name "The Mouth"?
Anna looks like she is "The Mouth Part II".

Clare looks like she sees dead people. And Mary.....having a "duh" moment, maybe?



Maggie, pop up in pictures much?

Pretty.

Stephen, you really need a haircut. This is when we started calling him Moe, to which he said, "Wadda ya standin' around for?".

Surf the turtle!!

There. I feel better....how about you?

Brave Girl....Blessed Girl

Can you believe this? My niece, Kristin, was driving this car when she was hit head-on. She survived this wreck, thank you God! Amazing, isn't it? The moment she was being life-flighted, the prayer chain began. Armande, my mother in law, called her prayer warriors into action, called us and others in the family. Tom and Dianne fervently prayed for the safety of their daughter. As word spread throughout Kristin's home, church and school community, the Lord was bombarded with prayer. None of us had any idea what the outcome would be. As it turns out, before the prayers had even begun on her behalf, she was already surrounded by a hedge of protection. Her injuries, though painful and severe, were few compared to the visions I know we all had going through our minds. There were some scary complications, but she's doing well. The road to full recovery will be difficult, but Kristin is unbelievably strong. I am convinced she will be running marathons this time next year!


That's my brother in law, Tom, watching the jaws of life getting Kristin out of the car. Can you imagine seeing your child go through this?






We love you, Kristin! We can't wait to see you!

Oh, Grow Up!!!......Wait!

Have you ever had an older, wiser person tell you to cherish these crazy, hectic days because they will soon be gone? I sure have. Many times I have been at my wits end about one thing or another and someone will say words to that effect. Almost every Sunday at church, an elderly person will grab my hand and say that our family reminds them of their own. They, too, had a large family. By the way, they always say, they grow up too fast. One day you are herding your kids to and fro, the next day they are grown and gone. Not from your life, of course, but from your home. No longer are you the shepherd of your flock. Suddenly you are the lonely lady in church grabbing the hand of the young mom with her brood following behind her. They tell me of the joys of grandchildren; but it's just not the same. I really do try to remember the wisdom of these words, especially when it is a hectic day and I'm frazzled and feeling pulled in 100 directions. It is hard to not wish time away. I want to enjoy my kids and relish every moment, but I fail. A lot. I get angry and frustrated. A lot. I lay awake in bed at night wishing I could have a do-over of the day. Surely I'd do things differently. I want to slow the clock and take a deep breath and count to ten before flying off the handle and really, truly listen to everything they try to tell me. I think I'll start today. Wish me luck!!!

Ain't She Sweet

I have decided to dedicate a blog post to each individual child. I'll start with Anna, our youngest and most carefree child. Being only three, her most pressing daily task is to play, be cute and, well....kind of annoy her older siblings. I tell them that they created the monster, they get to deal with it. She has been catered to since day one, so she does have a bit of a princess complex. She has been made to feel like she is somehow above the law here in our house, and now that she's a bit older, the others sometimes resent her attitude. Well, what are you gonna do?

She is funny, sweet, infuriating, loves to dance and sing, has a very vivid imagination and LOVES with all her heart. I can't wait to see what she'll be like when she's grown, but for now I am enjoying that impish grin and sticky hugs. Why are three year olds always sticky?