This past weekend, my mom invited us to a family Easter event at their retirement community. I had no idea what to expect, but it turns out those old folks put on quite a nice little celebration for grandkids!
We had lunch, and then there was face painting.
There was a magician making balloon animals.
There was a photobooth, crafts, and the creepiest Easter bunny ever. Addie was scared of him. Can you blame her? Check out that face. He looks like something out of a horror movie.
Of course, no Easter celebration is complete without a good old-fashioned Easter egg hunt. Nina declared the age 6+ hunt "the worst Easter egg hunt EVER". (Apparently it was quite disorganized.) Addie had fun at her hunt though.
As we got ready to leave, I thought it would be a great opportunity for a nice picture of the girls with their grandmother. Uh yeah... maybe not. We'll have to try that again another time.
Both of my grandfathers died before I was born. I lost my grandmothers when I was in high school and college. When I came into J.C.'s family, in my mind, I think I adopted his grandparents as my own. "Granddaddy" became the grandfather I never had, and "Grandmother" filled that role in my life.
The two of them were married for seventy years. I loved watching them together. You could tell their love was still going strong even after so many years. I always loved the way her name, "Mary Elizabeth" was always pronounced as one word, "Merlizbeth" by her husband.
I can imagine that if you had asked her how they kept the spark alive for so many years, one of her answers would have been to keep a sense of humor. She certainly had one. She would give people a hard time or make funny observations, always with a smile on her face and just a hint of mischief in her eye. She was a wonderfully sweet lady, but had a little spunk inside as well. She was deeply devoted to her husband but had such an independent streak too. Every Christmas or birthday, each of us would receive a card with money inside - cash from Granddaddy and a check from Grandmother. Grandaddy has never been a fan of banks, so you knew the cash came from him. I was never sure whether or not he knew that she included the check too.
Her obituary today in the paper said that she was well known for her chocolate pies. She was always ruler of the kitchen on holidays. If she told you to stir, you said "Yes, m'am" and started stirring. If you were charged with carving the turkey, you better know how to do it. Along with her chocolate pies, everyone loved her chicken salad, her chicken slicks, pecan pies and sweet potato pies. I hope one day, when I'm a grandmother, my grandchildren will fondly remember my specialties in the kitchen as well. For my own grandmothers, some of my strongest memories of them are food related - Moonie for her cherry pies and cherry jam, and Gonga for her broccoli cheese casserole, slaw, and chocolate cake. One of JC's favorite parts of the holidays has always been his grandmother's sweet potato pie.
I wish my children had been able to get to know her better before her health began to decline the last few years. I know they would have loved her.
May she rest in peace after 88 wonderful years of laughter, love, family, and chocolate pies.
Christmas was good to us this year. My dining room table made a rare appearance to host Christmas Eve dinner. If you know anything about my dining room, this photo in itself is nothing short of a Christmas miracle.
This is my parents' first Christmas here since their move from Texas, so they came over for Christmas Eve dinner. My dinner plans involved cooking a pork roast. Unfortunately, I forgot to pull it out of the freezer early enough to thaw it completely. Since I was hesitant about serving up roast ala salmonella, I ran out and bought a Paula Deen ham on Christmas Eve. That sucker was great! Thank you Paula Deen!
My parents were in luck. They got to hear Addie's harmonica concert. It was as lovely as you might imagine from a hyped-up four year old with a new harmonica.
After Christmas jammies were opened and donned, JoJo read stories.
Then, I had a little fun taking bokeh photos of the tree,
and late that night, Santa stopped by. He stuffed the stockings and set out the baskets o' electronics.
I usually prefer still photos to videos, but I do love videotaping the girls coming down the stairs each Christmas morning. This year, I think Nina's reaction was priceless. I'm so glad I caught it on video.
You think she like her iPod?
Elise was pretty happy with her stash as well.
One of the things on Addie's list (along with a roller coaster, a fox, and a giraffe) was "little tiny people that I can push on a little tiny swing." After puzzling over this request for a while, I finally realized that she was remembering playing with some vintage Little People that my mom's neighbor in Dallas had. As always, Ebay can usually get me out of any jam. Who would have thought that in 2011, a four year old would be asking for 1970's Little People? When she opened the gift though, she exclaimed, "It is just what I asked for!!"
In the afternoon, we spent time with JC's family. All the testosterone bearing family members (they are few and far between) received remote control helicopters. Papa looks like he was having fun!
Addie continued her streak of good presents.
Maybe she had just opened her Cars Play-doh set. That was a huge hit. Most other toys were neglected the rest of the day while everyone played with Play-doh.
After a couple of science experiments,
a few rounds of new video games, too many desserts, and saying thanks that nobody's hair got caught in the remote control helicopter blades, we all settled down for a long winter's nap.
"A Proper Tea is much nicer than a Very Nearly Tea, which is one you forget about afterwards"
~A.A. Milne
It is hard to believe that November is here, the leaves and temperatures are falling, the Christmas ads are upon us, and the hustle and bustle of the holiday season is beginning. Addison and I had plans today to attend our first holiday event of the season, the Sugar Plum Fairy Tea Party, with her good friend S. Unfortunately, S had to cancel at the last minute due to an illness in the family, so Elise and my mom joined us instead. Elise was the oldest child in the room by at least 5-6 years, but she enjoyed it regardless. Addie loved it all. She was awed by the ballerinas, gobbled up brownies and cookies, and took it all in with the wonder that only a three year old can have. Last time we attended this event was when Nina was three. I think that must be perfect tea party age, or... perhaps 40 is the perfect tea party age since I get the privilege of viewing it through the eyes of my three year old. It doesn't get much better than that.
“Look at me! Look at me! Look at me NOW! It is fun to have fun But you have to know how.”
~ Dr. Seuss, The Cat in the Hat
When J.C. was out of town, he left Addie with a DVD of the 1971 version of the Cat in the Hat. She watched it rather obsessively over and over while he was gone. She turned into a bit of a Cat in the Hat addict, so when I saw this fabric, I just couldn't resist it.
I knew I had to have my mom make a dress out of it for her. She loves it! Can you tell?
I'm stealing my post title today from Jen over at ::Meditatio::. She did a series of posts recently titled "Flattened" when her son was in the hospital. I couldn't think of a better word to describe how I'm feeling right now, so this is my take on "Flattened."
This has been my week in the shortened, condensed version:
Sunday: My parents arrived from Texas around midnight for the beginning of their cross-country move. The entire move has been stressful and overwhelming in many respects. We thought we were over the worst of it.
Monday: uneventful day. I should have appreciated it more.
Tuesday: We rushed my dad to the ER with labored breathing. He was having a heart attack, was in congestive heart failure, was extremely anemic, and his kidneys were failing.
Wednesday: He moved from the ER to the Cardiac Care Unit where his kidneys continued to decline, the enzymes associated with heart damage continued to go up, blood pressure dropped, and all news was generally bad.
Thursday: After two blood transfusions and extensive medical management, he stabilized.
Friday: We talked to the cardiologist who explained how he is stuck between a rock and a hard place. The treatment he would like to do for dad's heart would destroy his weak kidneys. Another treatment he is doing for his heart can't be done at the dose he would like because it lowers his blood pressure too much. The blood transfusions that help his anemia add more fluid to his body which is accumulating in his lungs. The treatment choices are limited because most of them cause bigger problems. He is still stable though and beginning to feel a little better. Mom got a call from the movers that their belongings that were supposed to arrive mid-week will not be here until Sunday. My cousin's memorial service is on Sunday. We were supposed to leave for a Girl Scout family camping trip in Virginia on Friday but we cancelled those plans and sent Elise with a friend's family instead.
Saturday (Today): Dad is stable and should move from the CCU to a regular room tomorrow. The cardiologist felt we could safely be gone for a day. Dad wants my mom to go to the memorial service, and it is important to her to be there. My ankle pain has flared up (maybe from walking hospital corridors? Dunno).
Sunday: Mom and I will leave at 5 a.m. for a quick trip to Chicago for my cousin's memorial service. We are flying out and back in one day. It should be a very emotional day. I'm not entirely sure either my mom or I are prepared for it. Also, I'm a little worried about my ankle with all the airport walking. My wonderfully supportive husband will be hanging out at my parents' new house to greet the movers and get them moved in. Hopefully dad will remain stable.
Flattened.
Yes. Flattened is the best word. I can see why Jen used it. Right now, I don't have any other words to describe how I'm feeling. I think my brain is a bit numb.
If you are the praying type, could you please send a few prayers our way? If you aren't the praying type, could you send a few groovy vibes, healing brainwaves, or positive thoughts? We could really use some right now. Thanks.
Every summer growing up, I would spend a week or two at my grandmother's house in Virginia. I would help my grandmother pick cherries or cucumbers, wander out to the old tobacco barn, play gin rummy on the big front porch, or walk through the woods picking up bits of moss for the moss garden I was constructing in a canning jar. My grandmother would check me over for ticks and use butter or a match detach them. As a big city girl, everything was an adventure out here in the country.
Her two hundred year old house had character. We usually entered through the keeping room which was a dark, cool place, not quite a basement, not quite house, where my grandmother kept all the jars of canned peaches, tomatoes, pickled beets, cherry jelly, and pickles that she expertly canned each summer. The step down into the keeping room was long, and the doorway was short, so adults would invariably hit their head the first time through on every trip.
To the right was the quaint little kitchen. You had to step up and over a big step in the entryway, and there were frequent curse words thrown about here as heads were bumped again in the doorway. The kitchen was a warm, cozy place where my grandmother was always busy canning, baking, making sandwiches, or preparing to entertain guests. My memories of the salty Virginia ham, hamburger meat fresh from the farm down the road, tart cherry pie from the cherry trees in the yard, and fresh veggies from her garden will never be equalled.
Also off the keeping room was the living room and dining room. It had an old wooden door with a wood and leather latch to keep it closed. In the winter, you were in big trouble if you forgot to latch the door and let out any heat from the fire place. Upstairs off the porch was a formal living room where my grandmother played the piano beautifully and attempted to teach me. Sadly though, piano lessons two weeks per year don't go very far. The third floor was a narrow space with sloped walls, but it was the perfect bedroom for a visiting grandchild.
One of my grandmother's favorite spaces in her home was a room we called the strawberry room. It wasn't much bigger than a walk-in closet in a modern home, but it was my grandmother's little sacred space. There was a round glass-topped table with strawberry print table cloth over it. There were strawberry pillows in her reading chair. There were strawberry tea cups on the table and strawberry paintings on the walls. I see strawberries now, and I think of my grandmother's strawberry room.
I see strawberry fabrics and envision that print as the newest tablecloth on her table.
I find myself drawn to them, unable to resist sweet strawberry dresses, as if the dress came straight from her strawberry room. Maybe it is just a little bit of my grandmother in me.
I'm not talking about the "Mom made a snooty remark about my parenting style, and I could have killed her" variety. I'm talking about the blood, guts, and trip to urgent care could have killed her. Today was a bad, bad day. My parents are in town for a fun, happy, carefree visit with their grandchildren.... or so they thought. I went by their hotel today to pick them up for a nice lunch. Dad walks with a walker, and mom usually puts it in the very back of my SUV. I had popped the hatch, so she could put it back there. Since there weren't any kids in the car though, she just stuck it in the back seat instead. When I realized she didn't need the back hatch open, I hit the snazzy, high tech button on my dash to close it. I used to love that thing.... used to. The automatic door started going down just as mom was walking around to the other side of the car. Suddenly, she disappeared. Then, I saw a man yell and race across the parking lot. I jumped out of the car to find mom flat on her back in the parking lot where her head had crashed onto the curb. The formerly loved automatic hatch had collided with her head, knocking her off balance, and she had fallen flat on her back. She managed to sit up, feeling a bit woozy, but she made it to the car. She said she thought she was going to be OK. She just needed to rest a bit. I was completely rattled, but I started driving. Then she says, "Hmmm... I'm bleeding." I pulled over to the side of the road, jumped out, looked at the top of her head, and it looked like something out of a horror movie... you know that scene where someone gets an ax to the head, and blood is all matted in their hair? Yes, I did this to my mother... the woman who gave birth to me. She didn't even have an epidural, and how do I thank her? I crack her head open. I had been so worried about where her head met the concrete that I hadn't even looked at where the hatch door had hit her head. I jumped back in the car and drove straight to urgent care. Poor dad was still in the car, diabetic, and needing lunch, so I called J.C. and said, "I tried to kill my mom with my trunk. We're at urgent care. You need to come get dad and take him to lunch." Fortunately, neither head injury was too serious. The cut on top was superficial but had bled a ridiculous amount. She has a goose-egg on the back of her head, but no real head trauma. She twisted or tweaked her knee, so she is limping a bit, but overall, she is OK. I, on the other hand, have been a wreck all day. I may never use that automatic hatch door again.
Mom, I love you. I hope you know that I wasn't trying to kill you. I'm sure there have been times over the years when I have been angry and thought to myself, "I could kill my mom for saying that.", but I promise I wouldn't actually follow through. I hope you feel better soon, and with any luck, the rest of your trip with be injury-free. I won't even slam your finger in the car door tomorrow, I swear.
Elise, Addie, and I headed down to Dallas this past weekend for a little fall fun with my parents. Why just two kids, you ask? Well, have you ever tried traveling alone with three? Yes? Then you understand. No? Then try it and let me know how it goes. Air travel with a toddler is not my idea of fun regardless, so adding in two constantly-bickering older sisters sounded like more than I was willing to tackle. In a lucky twist of fate, it turned out my choice of Elise and Addie was for the best in more ways than one. Nina ended up with a horrific case of strep throat all weekend. I felt horrible for her, but I was also glad she wasn't part of the traveling half of the family.
It was a nice trip. We did a little swimming...
where the girls decided to push poor JoJo in the freezing water.
We went shopping and had lunch at the American Girl Store and Bistro.... Elise's definition of a dream vacation.
We hung out with Bubba. My poor ol' Dad can't really travel any more, so the girls don't get a lot of opportunities to spend time with him. I wish they could have gotten to know him more before his hearing and vision deteriorated so much. We just have to take advantage of the time that we do have with him.
Of course, we went out for Mexican food... for my beloved nachos.
It was k.i.l.l.i.n.g. me not having my good camera with me. I was surrounded by dSLR's with killer lenses for all the awesome photo ops while I snapped away with my sad little point and shoot. I had serious camera envy. Then again, it was so crowded that it was hard to get pictures without a background full of people anyway, so maybe it was just as well. It was clearly a popular photography spot. We saw two brides and three girls in their quinceanera dresses doing photo shoots along with loads of kids either in Halloween attire or (of course) their UT or OU outfits.
One of the girls being photographed for quinceanera was wearing a dress very similar to this one, and she had a doll wearing a matching dress. I thought Elise's jaw might fall right off her face. You would have thought that Cinderella herself stepped right out of one of those pumpkins. I'm just envisioning six years from now Elise trying to convince us she needs a quinceanera dress even though we don't have so much as a drop of hispanic blood in us.
In true Texas style, one of the brides was wearing white cowboy boots - love it! I may not live in Texas any more, but I'm still a Texan at heart. You know what they say... "You can take the girl out of Texas..."
We really had a fun trip. If you'll be anywhere near Dallas this fall, I highly recommend a visit to the Arboretum.
Nina seems to have recovered from her strep. She and J.C. made the best out of the remainder of the weekend once she was feeling a little better, and she knows she is on the roster for the next trip to Dallas.
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