Planning the assault..........
"This is my sister, (her pumpkin is on the right) angry with me. And this is me, laughing at her!"
Truer words were never spoken!
Truer words were never spoken!
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Sunday, October 29, 2006
My Stupid Savings Book
You will rarely see me do this, but here goes:
Buy This Book.
You know my stupid sale coupon book? A lot of you have asked me how to get it, so here's your chance to get the new one at free shipping. Anywhere you live, there is likely a book for you. I had and loved it in SC, and I am getting one for my MIL in MI for Christmas.
Even being broke and frugal, we have saved an enormous amount of money in the past year with this book, and had coupons to share. It's one of those things that is a win win situation. The book costs 37.00, but you can make that up in ONE VISIT to the zoo, or the gas station, a restaurant, or the grocery stores. Yes, folks. Free gas. Free food.
Among the places where we have actually used these coupons have been Albertson's, Safeway, Northwest Trek, PDZA, Mandolin Cafe, (oh lord help me, McDonalds), the movie theater, Tully's, Shell gas, Elephant Car wash. Chevy's, The Glass Museum, Washington State History Museum, Tacoma Children's Museum, and so many other little places. That doesn't include the coupons we gave away to our friends to places like Taco Del Mar, REI and
Seattle Home Show. It just goes on and on.
Anyway, if you decide you want one (free shipping), please click this link: http://friends.entertainment.com/r/cf530fc0b8d010298b39 because if you do buy one, I get to get a nice gift card.
See? Easy Peasy! Shameless endorsement, but I have successfully encouraged so many people buy this book over the years just because I wanted them to have the wonderful savings, that it doesn't bother me at all potentially to get something in return for being Entertainment's unofficial salesman.
Never Pay Full Price. EVER.
Buy This Book.
You know my stupid sale coupon book? A lot of you have asked me how to get it, so here's your chance to get the new one at free shipping. Anywhere you live, there is likely a book for you. I had and loved it in SC, and I am getting one for my MIL in MI for Christmas.
Even being broke and frugal, we have saved an enormous amount of money in the past year with this book, and had coupons to share. It's one of those things that is a win win situation. The book costs 37.00, but you can make that up in ONE VISIT to the zoo, or the gas station, a restaurant, or the grocery stores. Yes, folks. Free gas. Free food.
Among the places where we have actually used these coupons have been Albertson's, Safeway, Northwest Trek, PDZA, Mandolin Cafe, (oh lord help me, McDonalds), the movie theater, Tully's, Shell gas, Elephant Car wash. Chevy's, The Glass Museum, Washington State History Museum, Tacoma Children's Museum, and so many other little places. That doesn't include the coupons we gave away to our friends to places like Taco Del Mar, REI and
Seattle Home Show. It just goes on and on.
Anyway, if you decide you want one (free shipping), please click this link: http://friends.entertainment.com/r/cf530fc0b8d010298b39 because if you do buy one, I get to get a nice gift card.
See? Easy Peasy! Shameless endorsement, but I have successfully encouraged so many people buy this book over the years just because I wanted them to have the wonderful savings, that it doesn't bother me at all potentially to get something in return for being Entertainment's unofficial salesman.
Never Pay Full Price. EVER.
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Where, oh where could my camera be??
I have much playdate cuteness!
But I can't find my camera! Do you know where I put it?
The card filled up at the table during storytime, and I put it somewhere safe.
Oy. Help me!
Update:
RING RING
"SchnAAY!"
"Francais! Your camera is in the side pocket of the green chair!"
"OMG!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU ARE SOOOOOOOOOO SEXAyYYYYYYYYY!"
...
...
...
"How was class today?"
"What class?"
"Isn't it Saturday?"
"OH SHIT! FAUX PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSS!"
[oops sorry Jesse! We had people spending the night and I totally forgot!]
But I can't find my camera! Do you know where I put it?
The card filled up at the table during storytime, and I put it somewhere safe.
Oy. Help me!
Update:
RING RING
"SchnAAY!"
"Francais! Your camera is in the side pocket of the green chair!"
"OMG!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU ARE SOOOOOOOOOO SEXAyYYYYYYYYY!"
...
...
...
"How was class today?"
"What class?"
"Isn't it Saturday?"
"OH SHIT! FAUX PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSS!"
[oops sorry Jesse! We had people spending the night and I totally forgot!]
Friday, October 27, 2006
Yup, it's in retrograde
I woke up to G screaming "No, you're getting poop on the walls!" When I stumbled bleary-eyed into N's room, it was indeed on the walls, but on the floors, toybox and bedding as well. She'd attempted to change a diaper, but got more than she bargained for. D escaped and well, there you go. Pre-coffee, two loads of laundry. Yum.
We have phones through comcast as well. I hosted a bigantous playdate and the frakking phone service was out most of the morning. I called them on my flagging-battery cell phone , and got a generic "lapse of Service in your area" message.
WELL THAT'S JUST SWEET!
Whilst entertaining the first guests, my phone rang. "Yay" I thought, "It's working again!" Ah, but my joy was short lived when it was the elementary school on the phone. They had a doggie there, one who was a "medium sized, German Shepherd mix, escape artist with one milky eye."
"The kids are saying it's G's dog." the secretary said.
"How would they know? "
"They say they know G's dog. I don't know. Is your dog there?" I checked, and well no, Presleydog was indeed not in the yard, and his radio collar was tidily inside, on the window sill, not on his neck. Sigh.
I asked my extra Mommies to watch the kids while I raced the ten minutes to the school. The teacher who'd trapped the dog said a sensible girl in her class (whose name I recognized) ID'd him. How he would travel that far, I didn't know. I met the dog. Not our dog. Grr. Same body, way different head.
So I go BACK home, and as I come in the front door, Presleydog came up the back stairs. Yes. he did.
We went on to have a fun Halloween playdate, with much cuteness, but oh goodness.
Speaking of retrograde, my friend got a speeding ticket on I5 as well. Seriously. 65 in a 60 zone. Shouldn't we citizens of Pugetopolis rejoice when I5 is moving along at 65? Really? Gawd.
We have phones through comcast as well. I hosted a bigantous playdate and the frakking phone service was out most of the morning. I called them on my flagging-battery cell phone , and got a generic "lapse of Service in your area" message.
WELL THAT'S JUST SWEET!
Whilst entertaining the first guests, my phone rang. "Yay" I thought, "It's working again!" Ah, but my joy was short lived when it was the elementary school on the phone. They had a doggie there, one who was a "medium sized, German Shepherd mix, escape artist with one milky eye."
"The kids are saying it's G's dog." the secretary said.
"How would they know? "
"They say they know G's dog. I don't know. Is your dog there?" I checked, and well no, Presleydog was indeed not in the yard, and his radio collar was tidily inside, on the window sill, not on his neck. Sigh.
I asked my extra Mommies to watch the kids while I raced the ten minutes to the school. The teacher who'd trapped the dog said a sensible girl in her class (whose name I recognized) ID'd him. How he would travel that far, I didn't know. I met the dog. Not our dog. Grr. Same body, way different head.
So I go BACK home, and as I come in the front door, Presleydog came up the back stairs. Yes. he did.
We went on to have a fun Halloween playdate, with much cuteness, but oh goodness.
Speaking of retrograde, my friend got a speeding ticket on I5 as well. Seriously. 65 in a 60 zone. Shouldn't we citizens of Pugetopolis rejoice when I5 is moving along at 65? Really? Gawd.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Bennies, Baby
Among the myriad other benefits of my MIL's visit is that she brought scads of baby pix of D, err, I mean P-Daddy as a baby. The digital camera just isn't gonna do a good justice to the copies, so I finally hooked up our boss scanner that's been hiding underneath the desk for quite some time.
Quite. Some. Time.
It's screamin' fast and I foresee much obnoxiousness on my part now that I have a scanner once again.
She's leaving tomorrow and we are very sad.
Quite. Some. Time.
It's screamin' fast and I foresee much obnoxiousness on my part now that I have a scanner once again.
She's leaving tomorrow and we are very sad.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
I'm tired.
I really adore my MIL. I do.
But the only person I've ever wanted in myhome this long was P-Daddy. She's adorable, and she is loving, and bends over backwards to ....just be. She's awesome, affirming, supportive, hard-working and omigosh, such a good Grandma to the kids.
It's just the houseguest thing. If we lived closer, she could come over any time she wanted, and we wouldn't feel the need for having marathon visits. I miss knitting night. I miss hanging with my extended homies. I need to just stare.
But oy, then I'd have to do my own laundry! :p
For those of you who know my kids personally, this is how she effects them:
D thinks he owns her. Schnaybaby thinks she is his gramma, too, which is right in line with being Cousin Schnaybaby. G includes Gramma into all her plans, wants to make jewelry with her, shares her coins with her and wants to work Halloween plans around her. She's dragged Gramma all over Washington showing her The Things Gramma Must See. N has given up his bed (voluntarily; we don't play that way here) to her and wants her to come back anytime, and she can sleep in his bed again.
So, one can not begrudge one's children their web. Not one bit.
And did I mention she's a laundry machine?
But the only person I've ever wanted in myhome this long was P-Daddy. She's adorable, and she is loving, and bends over backwards to ....just be. She's awesome, affirming, supportive, hard-working and omigosh, such a good Grandma to the kids.
It's just the houseguest thing. If we lived closer, she could come over any time she wanted, and we wouldn't feel the need for having marathon visits. I miss knitting night. I miss hanging with my extended homies. I need to just stare.
But oy, then I'd have to do my own laundry! :p
For those of you who know my kids personally, this is how she effects them:
D thinks he owns her. Schnaybaby thinks she is his gramma, too, which is right in line with being Cousin Schnaybaby. G includes Gramma into all her plans, wants to make jewelry with her, shares her coins with her and wants to work Halloween plans around her. She's dragged Gramma all over Washington showing her The Things Gramma Must See. N has given up his bed (voluntarily; we don't play that way here) to her and wants her to come back anytime, and she can sleep in his bed again.
So, one can not begrudge one's children their web. Not one bit.
And did I mention she's a laundry machine?
Sunday, October 22, 2006
150 things-- I've done the ones in bold
Hijaked from ~A~ because I don't have time to update much with the MIL here. This was memeasy!
Things I have done (in bold):
1. Bought everyone in the bar a drink
2. Swam with dolphins
3. Climbed a mountain
4. Taken a Ferrari for a test drive
5. Been inside the Great Pyramid
6. Held a tarantula
7. Taken a candle lit bath with someone
8. Said “I love you” and meant it
9. Hugged a tree
10. Bungee jumped
11. Visited Paris
12. Watched a lightning storm at sea.
13. Stayed up all night long and saw the sun rise.
14. Seen the Northern Lights
15. Gone to a huge sports game
16. Walked the stairs to the top of the leaning Tower of Pisa
17. Grown and eaten your own vegetables
18. Touched an iceberg
19. Slept under the stars
20. Changed a baby’s diaper
21. Taken a trip in a hot air balloon
22. Watched a meteor shower
23. Gotten drunk on champagne
24. Given more than you can afford to charity
25. Looked up at the night sky through a telescope
26. Had an uncontrollable giggling fit at the worst possible moment
27. Had a food fight
28. Bet on a winning horse
29. Asked out a stranger
30. Had a snowball fight
31. Screamed as loudly as you possibly can
32. Held a lamb
33. Seen a total eclipse
34. Ridden a roller coaster
35. Hit a home run
36. Danced like a fool and not cared who was looking .
37. Adopted an accent for an entire day.
38. Actually felt happy about your life, even for just a moment
39. Had two hard drives for your computer
40. Visited all 50 states
41. Taken care of someone who was really drunk
42. Had amazing friends
43. Danced with a stranger in a foreign country
44. Watched wild whales
45. Stolen a sign
46. Backpacked in Europe.
47. Taken a road-trip.
48. Gone rock climbing
49. Midnight walk on the beach
50. Gone sky diving
51. Visited Ireland
52. Been heartbroken longer than you were actually in love
53. In a restaurant, sat at a stranger’s table and had a meal with them
54. Visited Japan
55. Milked a cow
56. Alphabetized your CDs
57. Pretended to be a superhero
58. Sung karaoke
59. Lounged around in bed all day
60. Posed nude in front of strangers
61. Gone scuba diving (snorkelling, but sipped off the tanks)
62. Kissed in the rain
63. Played in the mud
64. Played in the rain
65. Gone to a drive-in theater
66. Visited the Great Wall of China
67. Started a business
68. Fallen in love and not had your heart broken
69. Toured ancient sites
70. Taken a martial arts class
71. Played D&D for more than 6 hours straight
72. Gotten married
73. Been in a movie.
74. Crashed a party
75. Gotten divorced
76. Gone without food for 5 days
77. Made cookies from scratch
78. Won first prize in a costume contest (it was actually my poodle, but I made it!)
79. Ridden a gondola in Venice
80. Gotten a tattoo.
81. Rafted the Snake River
82. Been on television news programs as an expert (space shuttle science program when I was a tween)
83. Got flowers for no reason
84. Performed on stage.
85. Been to Las Vegas
86. Recorded music.
87. Eaten shark
88. Eaten Fugu (my turn to say huh?)
89. Had a one night stand
90. Gone to Thailand
91. Bought a house
92. Been in a combat zone
93. Buried one/both of your parents
94. Been on a cruise ship
95. Spoken more than one language fluently
96. Performed in Rocky Horror Picture Show
97. Raised children
98. Followed your favorite band/singer on tour
99. Taken an exotic bicycle tour in a foreign country
100. Picked up and moved to another city to just start over
101. Walked the Golden Gate Bridge
102. Sang loudly in the car, and didn’t stop when you knew someone was looking
103. Had plastic surgery
104. Survived an accident that you shouldn’t have survived
105. Wrote articles for a large publication
106. Lost over 100 pounds
107. Held someone while they were having a flashback
108. Piloted an airplane
109. Petted a stingray
110. Broken someone’s heart
111. Ridden a bike
112. Won money on a T.V. game show
113. Broken a bone
114. Gone on an African photo safari
115. Had a body part of yours below the neck pierced
116. Fired a rifle, shotgun, or pistol
117. Eaten mushrooms that were gathered in the wild
118. Ridden a horse
119. Had surgery
120. Had a snake as a pet
121. Hiked to the bottom of the Grand Canyon
122. Slept for more than 30 hours over the course of 48 hours
123. Visited more foreign countries than U.S. states
124. Visited all 7 continents
125. Taken a canoe trip that lasted more than 2 days
126. Eaten kangaroo meat
127. Eaten sushi.
128. Had your picture in the newspaper
129. Changed someone’s mind about something you care deeply about
130. Gone back to school
131. Parasailed
132. Petted a cockroach (No just stomped on them![I say this counts])
133. Eaten fried green tomatoes
134. Read The Iliad and The Odyssey
135. Selected one important author who you missed in school, and read
136. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
137. Skipped all your school reunions
138. Communicated with someone without sharing a common spoken language
139. Been elected to public office
140. Written your own computer language
141. Thought to yourself that you’re living your dream
142. Had to put someone you love into hospice care
143. Built your own PC from parts
144. Sold your own artwork to someone who didn’t know you
145. Had a booth at a street fair
146. Dyed your hair
147. Been a DJ
148. Shaved your head
149. Caused a car accident.
150. Saved someone’s life
Friday, October 20, 2006
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Homeschooling at the Art Museum
Today we met a bunch of wonderful mothers from around Washington as we gathered at the Tacoma Art Museum. It was overrun with public school children, but the moms did manage to get in snippets of getting-to-know-you conversations in some stolen moments, while the children had a BLAST creating their own masterpieces.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Generations
it Matters
the extra voice at the table
the couch with an extra blanket and a curled up lap
more shoes at the entrance
living on "Grandma rules," which she never abuses
and the children have yet to figure out
despite the pounds of licorice
the layers of the generations
the connection
the tether
not my mother, but one of my children's
it is a privilege
to have her here
the extra voice at the table
the couch with an extra blanket and a curled up lap
more shoes at the entrance
living on "Grandma rules," which she never abuses
and the children have yet to figure out
despite the pounds of licorice
the layers of the generations
the connection
the tether
not my mother, but one of my children's
it is a privilege
to have her here
Garden shift change
G is a gardening wonder. Sometimes I just adore watching the years we've put into her come bubbling out. She's so into gardening with us. We took out the summering plants to compost and she helped weed the gardens and put in the winter green plugs.
Taking out summering plants included harvesting the remaining tomatoes, potatoes, sunflower heads and green beans. Ever pulled up and composted sunflower stalks? That was her job, by choice.
N and G both put in the greens plugs and checked on our baby winter squash. I hope we get a winter garden out of this!
Taking out summering plants included harvesting the remaining tomatoes, potatoes, sunflower heads and green beans. Ever pulled up and composted sunflower stalks? That was her job, by choice.
N and G both put in the greens plugs and checked on our baby winter squash. I hope we get a winter garden out of this!
Thursday, October 12, 2006
5/28/2007
It's raining babies.
I am so happy not to have to bear them myself, but to be able to finally offer support instead.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
A La Familia
G, who is becoming such a girl. A clever, funny person-girl!
Any family resemblance here?
It amazes me how little kids just know who is there to nurture them. D knew Gramma Rose was here for him, and although he'd never met her, he wasted no time warming up to her. That was Gramma, and that was that.
It amazes me how little kids just know who is there to nurture them. D knew Gramma Rose was here for him, and although he'd never met her, he wasted no time warming up to her. That was Gramma, and that was that.
Make fun of ~L Day!
Intactivist
INTACTIVIST 80% Pro-Intact, 72% Foreskin Knowledgeable |
Congratulations! You've got the knowledge and the enthusiasm to change the world and spare tomorrow's infants the trauma wrought by today's ignorant, arrogant, and superstitious world. Get out there. Say it loud, say it proud. For answer key e-mail TLCTugger@Juno.com |
My test tracked 2 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
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| Link: The Foreskin Test written by TLCTugger on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test |
Big Boy Toys
N discovering gas-powered, radio control toys at Penrose State Park. These two were very indulgent and shared their passion about their hobby with a very inquisitive boy. N has a few RCs, but nothing like these!
Sunday, October 08, 2006
I think I am a failure as a wife
If I were more [X] or less [Y], then he would be happier and more the mellow fellow I know him to be inside.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
It's been a good week for friends
Got my Nikayness twice. Seeing Schnaygirl again, who now has a port in her arm. Chickngirl came over for a Vortex-fest.
Saw all my homies yesterday. Wait.. cept Daniela who is in Brasil... but all the local homies. Yes. Saw them yesterday.
That is all.
Saw all my homies yesterday. Wait.. cept Daniela who is in Brasil... but all the local homies. Yes. Saw them yesterday.
That is all.
Monday, October 02, 2006
Holes
This is where our anniversary tree will go. We don't have it yet, but hey we're getting there. Our favorite place was out of stock! Ack!
Sunday, October 01, 2006
Exhibit Two
See trackback in link, but I think this looks nicely like the villagers beginning to dig a foundation for their satellite array.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Yeah Baybay
I aspire to knitting like some of my friends, which is to say I knit, but I don't produce much: I have successfully completed a tooth fairy bag and a waistband for some wool longies for a four year old. So I am not worthy of this bag, but I love it anyway.
Thanks ~A~.
Monday, September 25, 2006
Today is our anniversary
We were married today, 2557 days ago. He left this morning at 5AM for a four day business trip. That nicely sums up the current state of affairs, from my perspective. He's gone a lot pre-dawn, and too exhausted most days when he comes home truly to care where he is.
Money is tight--not too tight, but not diamond-jewelry, new-TV giftable either. Not that we celebrate in that manner, anyway. We're pretty subdued for most of our stuff. 7 years just seemed important to me somehow, like the 7 year itch could be kept more fully at bay if we had a wonderful day together. He's taking Friday off since he'll have been gone all week. His boss ragged on him a bit, "Why are you taking Friday off when you hadn't planned on taking Monday off anyway?" Personally, I think that's a good question.
I'm trying not to be bummed, but I am. His idea for an anniversary gift is one I love, however. We're going to plant an apple tree in the front yard this weekend, when he comes back. REALLY sappy line from a bad movie, but one I like for today:
Money is tight--not too tight, but not diamond-jewelry, new-TV giftable either. Not that we celebrate in that manner, anyway. We're pretty subdued for most of our stuff. 7 years just seemed important to me somehow, like the 7 year itch could be kept more fully at bay if we had a wonderful day together. He's taking Friday off since he'll have been gone all week. His boss ragged on him a bit, "Why are you taking Friday off when you hadn't planned on taking Monday off anyway?" Personally, I think that's a good question.
I'm trying not to be bummed, but I am. His idea for an anniversary gift is one I love, however. We're going to plant an apple tree in the front yard this weekend, when he comes back. REALLY sappy line from a bad movie, but one I like for today:
I'd rather fight with you any day, than make love to anyone else
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Blog updates, and for Schnaygirl
My son at two.Speaking of my son, I uploaded his birth story this morning. I also uploaded pix from our recent luncheon, and cleaned up and illustrated Breakfast with Grandmomma.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Friday, September 22, 2006
Wow!
Montessori Mom linked to my site! Wow! Does that mean I am a real homeschooler now?
I am such a geek that this gave me warm, affirmation fuzzies. Kate, you can be sure I will be posting more details now!
Speaking of homeschooling, Schnaygirl and I got to show off the results of our efforts today. I can't not include her in this because she was truly instumental in getting me off my duff to DO it. It's awesome, and we're so happy with it.
We had some of our favorite ladies over for lunch today to send off our beautiful Brazilian goddess on her two month trip home. Alas, I did not finish the earrings, but she did choose the pattern she wanted so I have a direction for her :cough cough: Christmas gift. She got chocolate, then, for her belated birthday.
Some higher power sprinkled good-behaviour dust on all our children, because it was truly an idyllic day, to such extent that the kids actually let the mothers eat at the table AND the sun came out just at coffee and dessert, so we all transitioned nicely to the backyard.
I really enjoyed having them over, and I thought about those who couldn't make it. Indiegirl took some pictures of the kids, and I've included some of the ones of mine here.
Breakfast with Grandmomma
I had breakfast with my Grandmomma today. I was cleaning the kitchen from a particularly slack evening last night, then I made pancakes and orange juice for the kids. We talked the whole time I was doing that, me using the headphones attachment on the phone.
We didn't really discuss anything of great importance, but I was enjoying hearing her voice as I went about my motherly duties. There is a connection I have with my Grandmother that I have with no one else. My mother was not nurturing, and her mother, once a super Granny as well, was broken into bitterness by life's long, cruel circumstances. My Grandmomma, however, was only able to bring forth one child. She miscarried another, then never conceived again. She adopted a second son, and the two boys of the same age completed her family. They both married early and quickly produced their first children just three months apart, my cousin and I, both girls. Three more grandchildren later, my Grandmomma found herself surrounded at last with the bounty of children she'd always wanted, and she reveled in it.
My grandmother was the blessing-and-curse MIL we all both fear and wish for. Unbelievably attached to her sons, she truly demanded to be informed when they so much as went out to dinner, lest she call and not get an answer at their home. She cried like a baby and held a family intervention when both sons chose not to continue attending her church, and worse, any church at all. Her intrusive entitlements extended to the grandchildren. If she didn't like the answer she got from a DIL about a health concern, Grandmomma would take the child to her own choice of pedatrician for a second opinion. She'd nag the parents incessantly because their smoking stank up the children's hair and clothing. She'd give the children soap and shampoo along with their other birthday gifts, if she believed the children were looking particularly disheveled that year.
But as with few others on the planet, I can see her motivations were always well-intentioned and pure: she cared for the child first, come what may. She may have been misguided at times, she may have been wrong at times, but even her daughters-in-law never questioned her heart. As one of those children, I was protected, loved and nurtured with a ferocious intensity.
She was also the MIL who would babysit on a moment's notice, even overnight. She never turned anyone away from her table, certainly not her grandchildren, no matter how young the infant. She'd buy clothes and groceries when it just wasn't going to happen otherwise. She took the grandchildren to church, to restaurants, to plays and on vacations. She'd spend weeks-- literally weeks-- with the kids at her house, folding us into her life and rhythms.
All I can compare it to is old-world family life, Southern American style. I grew up in a truly multi-generational family of origin, knowing my great-grandmother well (she died when I was a young adult), being known by her mother (who died when I was a toddler), and having personal relationships with each of my Grandmomma's siblings. We ate together every week, we planned picnics so large they were suited only to parks, we vacationed together, celebrated together, grieved together. My children will not grow up knowing that kind of family community, and it is a loss I fear: the loss of the awareness of belonging to a great web of people, of the safety inherent in such a belonging.
As one of the grandchildren absorbed into their life like that, I remember my grandparents' kitchen. Grandaddy was the cook, but Grandmomma was the manager. We'd have tea every morning, and the aroma from the steaming cups mingled with the smells coming from grits, oatmeal or pancakes, forming the base of an indelible scent-memory that lasts to this day. Unlike the cold cereal or instant grits my mother served me, I could count on my grandparents providing a hot breakfast, punctuated with milk or orange juice, eggs and sausage, bacon or ham, over which we'd linger for more than an hour sometimes, just chatting and enjoying each other. I was loved, and the fact that it took two hours to complete breakfast proved it to me. As much as I don't eat it regularly, breakfast remains my favorite meal.
The 70s happened. The children borne to my Grandmomma's generation became liberated from the ideas and belief systems cherished by their parents.Cousins drifted apart. Love remained, but the sense of remaining physically close with one's family went by the wayside, quite literally. Children had grown up, bearing children of their own. Within that decade, my parents' entire marriage began and ended, climaxing in bitterness and a first for the entire family: children chose divorce. Children chose to come out. Children chose to move away. Children married outside their faith, their nationality, their race. The family began to fragment. Still vital and active in their 50s and 60s, my Grandmomma and her sibs kept their Sunday dinners together, and the holiday traditions they began remained strong while my generation enjoyed it's childhood.
The 80s happened. Unthinkably, three of our nuclear families moved to Virginia. Holiday traditions in Charleston remained, but they were more difficult now that travel was involved. Birthdays became a card and a call. My own mother kept me and my baby sister away from my Grandparents because she didn't like their opinions about her life, or their perceived influence on me, and I didn't have birthdays or holidays with them for 7 years. Alone in a neglectful, dysfunctional household, my memories of safety and belonging to something else drove me to freedom. On my 18th birthday, I bicycled the scant three miles in the punishing June heat from one grandmother's house to the other's, and reclaimed my place in the web. My sister denies ever having a place there. Another fracture, another strand undone.
The 90s happened. All the grandchildren are now grown; going to college, making choices of our own. Making families. My great-grandmother lived to meet and approve my future husband. My Grandaddy loved P-daddy, and lived to give us his blessing. Yet by the time we married in 1999, my large, great family was unrecognizable and my Grandaddy was dead. Some of my Grandmomma's sibs did attend the wedding, but a hurricane kept the Virginians away. When my first daughter was born, no one from the larger family came to visit. In 2004, three weeks after we moved to WA and a week before I delivered my younger son, the last family Christmas Eve Party was celebrated in my father's house, marking the end of a tradition established by my Grandparents in 1956. Clearly unable to attend, we called from the living room of our rental house, thousands of miles away.
We have developed our own family traditions, P-daddy and I, from even before we were officially a family. We mindfully set about doing so because we believe in growing this family, our own family, into something larger than it is; something enduring, that will enrich all our lives for much longer than the period during which our children live with us. Those traditions served us well when we unexpectedly moved across country in the dark of winter, far from any family. The children we are privileged to raise know what to expect with the coming of each season, the celebration of each holiday. They inherently know that this is way their world works, and they count on it. Moving oceans meant little to them because the fundamentals of their lives did not change. One Grandma they loved had always lived far away. Now, all Grandmas do. That's life for them; good life. They know they are loved, and their web stretches far.
For my part, I am not so easily mollified. I miss my Grandmomma. I miss her daily, weekly, on holidays, on birthdays...she shares her May birthday, sometimes with mother's day, sometimes with our second child. I sorrow that she will never see this home, this life, that P-daddy and I have carved for ourselves. Her leukemia and neuropathy guarantee that. While I acknowledge the reality that in my new role as a mother of some of those children she adores, I came under criticism and scrutiny from her that I resented, distance softens those feelings just as it attenuates our interaction. I don't just miss my grandparents, I lament that they are not a part of our daily lives. Although we lived on the coast, my Grandaddy loved the mountains, and to this day, I cannot drive through the mountain forests here without exclaiming aloud how much he would love it here.
We didn't really discuss anything of great importance, but I was enjoying hearing her voice as I went about my motherly duties. There is a connection I have with my Grandmother that I have with no one else. My mother was not nurturing, and her mother, once a super Granny as well, was broken into bitterness by life's long, cruel circumstances. My Grandmomma, however, was only able to bring forth one child. She miscarried another, then never conceived again. She adopted a second son, and the two boys of the same age completed her family. They both married early and quickly produced their first children just three months apart, my cousin and I, both girls. Three more grandchildren later, my Grandmomma found herself surrounded at last with the bounty of children she'd always wanted, and she reveled in it.
My grandmother was the blessing-and-curse MIL we all both fear and wish for. Unbelievably attached to her sons, she truly demanded to be informed when they so much as went out to dinner, lest she call and not get an answer at their home. She cried like a baby and held a family intervention when both sons chose not to continue attending her church, and worse, any church at all. Her intrusive entitlements extended to the grandchildren. If she didn't like the answer she got from a DIL about a health concern, Grandmomma would take the child to her own choice of pedatrician for a second opinion. She'd nag the parents incessantly because their smoking stank up the children's hair and clothing. She'd give the children soap and shampoo along with their other birthday gifts, if she believed the children were looking particularly disheveled that year.
But as with few others on the planet, I can see her motivations were always well-intentioned and pure: she cared for the child first, come what may. She may have been misguided at times, she may have been wrong at times, but even her daughters-in-law never questioned her heart. As one of those children, I was protected, loved and nurtured with a ferocious intensity.
She was also the MIL who would babysit on a moment's notice, even overnight. She never turned anyone away from her table, certainly not her grandchildren, no matter how young the infant. She'd buy clothes and groceries when it just wasn't going to happen otherwise. She took the grandchildren to church, to restaurants, to plays and on vacations. She'd spend weeks-- literally weeks-- with the kids at her house, folding us into her life and rhythms.
All I can compare it to is old-world family life, Southern American style. I grew up in a truly multi-generational family of origin, knowing my great-grandmother well (she died when I was a young adult), being known by her mother (who died when I was a toddler), and having personal relationships with each of my Grandmomma's siblings. We ate together every week, we planned picnics so large they were suited only to parks, we vacationed together, celebrated together, grieved together. My children will not grow up knowing that kind of family community, and it is a loss I fear: the loss of the awareness of belonging to a great web of people, of the safety inherent in such a belonging.
As one of the grandchildren absorbed into their life like that, I remember my grandparents' kitchen. Grandaddy was the cook, but Grandmomma was the manager. We'd have tea every morning, and the aroma from the steaming cups mingled with the smells coming from grits, oatmeal or pancakes, forming the base of an indelible scent-memory that lasts to this day. Unlike the cold cereal or instant grits my mother served me, I could count on my grandparents providing a hot breakfast, punctuated with milk or orange juice, eggs and sausage, bacon or ham, over which we'd linger for more than an hour sometimes, just chatting and enjoying each other. I was loved, and the fact that it took two hours to complete breakfast proved it to me. As much as I don't eat it regularly, breakfast remains my favorite meal.
The 70s happened. The children borne to my Grandmomma's generation became liberated from the ideas and belief systems cherished by their parents.Cousins drifted apart. Love remained, but the sense of remaining physically close with one's family went by the wayside, quite literally. Children had grown up, bearing children of their own. Within that decade, my parents' entire marriage began and ended, climaxing in bitterness and a first for the entire family: children chose divorce. Children chose to come out. Children chose to move away. Children married outside their faith, their nationality, their race. The family began to fragment. Still vital and active in their 50s and 60s, my Grandmomma and her sibs kept their Sunday dinners together, and the holiday traditions they began remained strong while my generation enjoyed it's childhood.
The 80s happened. Unthinkably, three of our nuclear families moved to Virginia. Holiday traditions in Charleston remained, but they were more difficult now that travel was involved. Birthdays became a card and a call. My own mother kept me and my baby sister away from my Grandparents because she didn't like their opinions about her life, or their perceived influence on me, and I didn't have birthdays or holidays with them for 7 years. Alone in a neglectful, dysfunctional household, my memories of safety and belonging to something else drove me to freedom. On my 18th birthday, I bicycled the scant three miles in the punishing June heat from one grandmother's house to the other's, and reclaimed my place in the web. My sister denies ever having a place there. Another fracture, another strand undone.
The 90s happened. All the grandchildren are now grown; going to college, making choices of our own. Making families. My great-grandmother lived to meet and approve my future husband. My Grandaddy loved P-daddy, and lived to give us his blessing. Yet by the time we married in 1999, my large, great family was unrecognizable and my Grandaddy was dead. Some of my Grandmomma's sibs did attend the wedding, but a hurricane kept the Virginians away. When my first daughter was born, no one from the larger family came to visit. In 2004, three weeks after we moved to WA and a week before I delivered my younger son, the last family Christmas Eve Party was celebrated in my father's house, marking the end of a tradition established by my Grandparents in 1956. Clearly unable to attend, we called from the living room of our rental house, thousands of miles away.
We have developed our own family traditions, P-daddy and I, from even before we were officially a family. We mindfully set about doing so because we believe in growing this family, our own family, into something larger than it is; something enduring, that will enrich all our lives for much longer than the period during which our children live with us. Those traditions served us well when we unexpectedly moved across country in the dark of winter, far from any family. The children we are privileged to raise know what to expect with the coming of each season, the celebration of each holiday. They inherently know that this is way their world works, and they count on it. Moving oceans meant little to them because the fundamentals of their lives did not change. One Grandma they loved had always lived far away. Now, all Grandmas do. That's life for them; good life. They know they are loved, and their web stretches far.
For my part, I am not so easily mollified. I miss my Grandmomma. I miss her daily, weekly, on holidays, on birthdays...she shares her May birthday, sometimes with mother's day, sometimes with our second child. I sorrow that she will never see this home, this life, that P-daddy and I have carved for ourselves. Her leukemia and neuropathy guarantee that. While I acknowledge the reality that in my new role as a mother of some of those children she adores, I came under criticism and scrutiny from her that I resented, distance softens those feelings just as it attenuates our interaction. I don't just miss my grandparents, I lament that they are not a part of our daily lives. Although we lived on the coast, my Grandaddy loved the mountains, and to this day, I cannot drive through the mountain forests here without exclaiming aloud how much he would love it here.
So this morning, with the scent of pancakes and coffee interwoven with my Grandmomma's voice, I felt at home. I felt the grounding love for my own children and the tug of the loved child I once was, both informing the adult I now choose to be. And I know my Grandmomma approves. I still have her voice, and she tells me so.
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Tentalong
We have our new tent in our possession now. Last month's sucky camping trip left us yearning for wilderness camping, which isn't happening any time soon, but we can settle for PARKS with lots of TREES! Woohoo!
Here's the tent:
Here's the tent:
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
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