Archive - 2013

Alligators, revisited

Five years ago I made Bip an alligator scarf.

Time went by and it got caught in his jacket zipper too many times and it developed a hole.  I sat down to mend it only to discover that it was now much too small for Bip.  So once again, what is a mother to do for her alligator-loving boy?  Yep, make him another alligator scarf, this time in the grown up size.

Cuteness!

The kit (pattern and yarn included) is here: Morehouse Farm Alligator Scarf

The pattern alone (emailed as a PDF) is here: Morehouse Farm Critter Knits (it is the 3rd one listed)

Not Quite

This is my husband, Phil (and Pipsqueak).

He works for the federal government. He may even know where the Ark of the Covenant is hidden.

One day we had ordered Chinese food and he was picking it up, rather than have it delivered.  As he was leaving the restaurant with our order, a lady was walking in the door.  She said to him, “Good luck with the deliveries.”

Yeah.  Not quite.

Nevertheless, Happy Chinese New Year!

Lent is Coming!

Good grief, Lent starts on February 13th this year! Get OUT!

Ok, I’m done freaking out.

Two of toughest things in life are that both Girl Scout cookies and Shamrock Shakes are only available during Lent.  Fortunately, at least one McDonald’s in town already has Shamrock Shakes, so we can gobble some up this week.  And GS cookies are freezable.  Just sayin’.

In a completely unrelated event, I was searching for lap books to do with Bip in school and I found a website selling lap books for the Catholic faith.  I just finished printing out the pieces of the Lent book so we can get started on it right away.  A few of the projects should be completed before Ash Wednesday to get the most out of them.  What? Oh yes, a link.  Here you go: Catholic Faith Folders.  I prefer to buy these kind of things and just print them out instead of trying to find all the same information for free and making it fit and look pretty and all that.

And since I’m going on and on about Lent, Jennifer over at Family in Feast and Feria has printable Stations of the Cross. She has lots of different options for printing, including cards to punch holes in and put on a ring and booklets in both small sizes and full page.  Each option comes in color or in black and white.  I like them because the text is simple for children without being babyish and the pictures are real artwork, not cartoons.  I’m not fond of the kids Stations books that our church uses.

There and Back

We left last week for my grandfather’s funeral.

The flight there was completely uneventful.  Pipsqueak was asleep before we even made it over the Rocky Mountains and didn’t wake up until we landed.  I won the seating lottery when I volunteered to sit next to him and Bip wanted to sit on the other side of me, leaving Philip to sit next to Sir Talks Alot.  Ha!

The funeral was a good one.  My mom asked me and Philip to do the readings and I chose to go first because I know better than to go after Phil.  Seriously, the guy has a deep, rich voice and he reads with great feeling.  I am an accomplished public speaker as well, but I’ve got nothing on Phil.  Voluntarily being the speaker after Phil is one of the classic blunders.

Now, normally I am fine with this.  My reading was one we used at Rebecca’s funeral and ends with “He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries him close to his heart.”  I was pretty confident I could make it through, in spite  of the association.  What I hadn’t counted on was the first song also being from Rebecca’s funeral and one that is very hard for us to get through on a normal day without at least tearing up .  And THEN  my mom delivered a very moving eulogy right before my reading.  I was shaky and choked up, but I took a deep breath and took my time.  All those years of public speaking and teaching and teaching people how to teach really paid off. I got all the way to the end, the “He gathers the lambs” part before my voice got shaky.  But I was OK.  No shame in showing emotion.

Phil, of course, was rock steady and he had people (including the priest) asking if he is a lector a home.  Grrr!

Boo was an altar server for the funeral.  He did a great job.  I was proud of him, as always.  Pumpkin Girl and Bip took up the gifts with the other great-grandson who is not mine.  Everyone got to participate, except Pipsqueak, who looked cute and then fell asleep.

After mass we went to the cemetery.  We saw a Navy guy saluting and finally realized that my grandfather was getting a military burial.  Taps, the folded flag presented to my grandmother, the whole bit.  It was wonderful to see him honored like that.

Then it was time to leave.  I hated that part with Rebecca.  Just turning around and walking away.  It is so…final.

The reception afterwards was at a seafood restaurant right on the harbor.  The food was great but seeing all my relatives was even better.  We had a DVD slide show of my grandfather which was so much fun.  His sisters brought a CD player and  played the song “He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother.”

I learned that my grandfather was the oldest of 8 children (I only remember his 3 sisters).  He returned to the Catholic Church after going on a pilgrimage to Medjugorje with my grandmother.  He really just went along to protect her.  He met Lou Holtz (coach of Notre Dame) on that trip (he was making the same pilgrimage) and demanded an explanation of his coaching decisions in the big game against USC!

Just so you know, he only has three grandchildren. 😉

We had a hard time leaving my grandparents house, we always do.  We feel loved and safe there.  But we did need to come home.

And now we are back.

I Got Older

I had a birthday last weekend, as I do this time of year. And because I’m so special, Monday was a holiday, too. You’re welcome.

I bought myself a cake from the local Danish bakery. I think they’re Danish. They have some long name with lots of letters and a pronunciation that has little to do with all those letters. Normally that would have annoyed me – buying my own cake, not trying to pronounce the name – but I am trying to grow in this area. I’ve probably reached the halfway point in my life, so I’m just going to buy whatever cake I want and get over myself.

With some well placed, if not subtle, hints and an Amazon wish list, I received some very nice gifts from my family. My kids replaced the cookbook they carelessly and unknowingly got computer ink all over. How did they do this? I know not. But now I have a new one, so it’s all good. A friend left some See’s lollipops on my front door.  How did she know these were a staple of my childhood? Hubby bought me the 25th anniversary Phantom of the Opera production DVD. It’s fabulous! Have you seen it? If not, go right this moment and put it in your Netflix queue. You can stream it tonight! I’ve totally hooked Pumpkin Girl on it. Now when I break into song, she’s likely to join me. “I gave you my music, made your song take wing…”



Oh, and Philip brought me roses, too!

Then Red Robin (the restaurant) totally tried to ruin my day. We decided to go there for dinner. They gave us a 10-15 minute wait time. We probably only go there once a year and they are always busy, but we never have to wait all that long. This time, however, we waited 35 minutes to be seated. They kept telling us we were next for a big table. I was super annoyed, but willing to give them a chance, but I was standing up and getting ready to leave when I could hear they were getting ready to call us. So we got to our table and placed an order for appetizers and drinks. Another group was seated next to us shortly after we were seated and they placed their order, too. Fifteen minutes later, we had no drinks and no food and had not placed our main order. Then the table next to us got their appetizers, which happened to be the same one we ordered. That was the final straw. We ended up walking out before anything came to our table. By this time it was nearly 7 PM, we were all very hungry and I was pretty angry.

We salvaged our evening with food from Sonic (great service there!), lots of laughter and my chocolate raspberry cake.

Tears into Dancing

My grandfather died yesterday. To say he has always been there in my life is like…no duh. But I mean he has always *been there* for me. I don’t like to think he no longer is.

When I was in kindergarten and first grade he used to make me bacon and egg sandwiches wrapped in wax paper and a paper towel for my school lunch. When I grew up, moved away and had kids of my own, he always told me he loved me and was proud of me. And I knew it. I just knew it.

He called me “mija”, pronounced “mee-ha”. It means “my little girl”. My kids and I called him Papa T. It’s short for Grandpa Tony.

He bought me a 49er Starter Jacket for my 16th birthday. Oh how I loved that jacket! I still have it. It was not a Super Bowl years for the 49ers, and he tucked a note into the pocket that said, “we’ll get ’em next year.”


Me, my grandpa and dad, 1988.

He passed away quietly, surrounded by family, in the home he’d lived in for longer than I’ve even been around.

And life goes on. Six hours later, Bip made his First Reconciliation. He asked to practice one more time before we left the house, just to make sure. He had a brief moment of panic as we walked up to the church when he thought he’d forgotten to make an examine of conscious. Then I reminded him that we had reviewed that together earlier in the week. He clung to my hand during most of the brief service beforehand, then lined up with his classmates to go get good with God.

When he had finished, he came skipping out, a broad smile lighting up his face. He was happy and lighter and filled with God’s goodness and grace. He skipped all the way out of church.

Bip, Clean and Shiny

We came home and we celebrated with ice cream, Bip’s choice. We celebrated Papa T, who always said ice cream is good for you because it’s made of milk! We celebrated Bip, who is starting down a new path in his Catholic faith.

Life is like that sometimes. Endings and beginnings are often intertwined. We celebrate what we have gained at the same time we mourn what was lost.

Sometimes our tears turn into dancing. God can be good like that.

Moving on

I took this down from our office wall last week.

A calendar, stuck at April 2010, buckling with the weight of sitting there for close to 3 years.

When we first moved to CO, we had three children at home, ages 4, 8 and 10. The youngest was just starting preschool type work, mostly for fun and to get him into the habit of daily schoolwork. The older two were gaining independence and were generally finished with school by 2 PM at the latest. The youngest still napped.

I had a good routine, I accomplished many things and everything felt mostly under control.

Then I was pregnant with Pipsqueak. I slept and slept and slept some more. All day nausea became my new BFF. Schoolwork, housework, everything fell to the wayside. I felt things just slipping away.

I finally just gave up.

Can you guess when that was? Yep, April 2010. It was too much to even move the calendar.

Pipsqueak arrived and we had to reinvent everything. We hadn’t had a baby in the house for five years. Things didn’t go as well as I’d hoped and Pipsqueak would not nap without me. He still won’t. As I type, he is napping next to me, one foot resting on my leg. I know better than to even attempt to sneak out. I lose hours everyday to that precious, little tyrant! (He’s getting better, though. I can often sneak off and sit in the armchair and knit or work on the computer for a bit.)

You can imagine the toll this has taken on the house. So much work piling up – literally, as things that need to be put away are stacked in any free space. So much to do, so little time and energy, I couldn’t even change the calendar.

But I did it, finally. Goodbye, April 2010 with your nausea and massive naps. Hello 2013, with a baby learning that being asleep without mama is safe, and with older children more capable of pulling the load a bit. Sorry 2010, it’s not you, it’s me. I’m moving on.

Twelve

Confident.

Strong.

Graceful.

Loyal.

Quiet at times, boisterous at others.

Loves a good book.

Hovering in the brief moment between being a young girl and being a young woman.

Creative.  Loving.  Sensitive.

This is my Pumpkin Girl and now she is twelve.

Not Looking Back at 2012

Happy New Year!  Is anybody still out there?  I hope so and I thank you for sticking with me.

In writing this post I realized just how little blogging I did last year.  Hopefully I can remedy that this year.  I’m making some changes in our home that should make things go a little more smoothly and free up a little more of my time.

I tried to write a 2012 wrap-up post but there were many months when I only blogged twice.  Not too exciting and nothing to look back on.  Part of the problem is that as my children have gotten older, they started reading my blog.  I feel the burden of censoring now that they are part of the audience.  There are also a couple of people who like to let me know that they expect me to have something new on my blog all the time and are disappointed when I don’t.  Nothing kills my creativity more than people pointing out how I’ve let them down.

So here I am, not looking back at 2012.  Hoping I can recapture some time and creativity and funnel that back into my blog.

 

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