Picture Pages 2

Grant likes anything he can ride-on, sit-on, or push, just as long as it GOES!


He is a pretty baby, huh?!


Dan's Holding Wyatt, and telling me I should be doing something with Grant, "Uh, I am. I'm taking his picture!!

Grant says, "Giiiieeeeezzzz!!" Instead of "Cheese", and yes, that is the remote!


Wy Wy, as we've come to call him, just loves playing in his bouncer.
What a dolly, huh?!



I call this one, "And The Love Affair Begins" Oh, and just look at those cheeks!

I'm looking at something Ma Ma

Isn't Griffin Handsome? A little girl (who had to be at least 8) was flirting with Griffin while we were at the park. Oh, I was not happy about that!!



This is my adopted daughter, Kendyl. Well, not really. But, if she was available for adoption I would snatch her right up! She's the sweetest little girl on Earth!

Kendyl loves the boys, especially, Wy Wy! She just takes such good care of him! Makes being a Mom to three much more doable when you have such great help!
I love that little girl!


Isn't this sweet. I think Griffin secretly has a crush on Kendyl. I'm watching him like a fox! He asked me the other day if I could take him on a date. I said, "Oh, you want Mommie to take you out, just the two of us?"
He said, "No, not with you, with somebody like, Kendyl?!"
*sigh* I'm already chopped liver, and he's only 5!

I've named this one "Baby Mug Shot" and this better be the only time he takes one!!

My kids doing their best Elton John impressions. Pretty good boys!

The American Way???

I gotta get something out... this life is not yours for the indebting. Okay?!? Do you think God wants you to have lots of stuff, but no retirement? Do you think that He wants you to try and make people happy through things? This doesn’t work. I know.

A friend told me yesterday that in “today’s society, it’s impossible to live without debt.” What a thought provoking statement with such childish undertones. Don’t you mean it is impossible for you to take responsibility for wanting things that have made you incur debt?! Well, maybe you’re thinking that you can relate to what this person said. Maybe you, too, think it is “impossible to live without debt”. But, I beg to differ.

I think I have made choices in my life that made it so I incurred debt. But, guess what?! I was the one making the choices and deciding to spend the money! Me! Debt didn’t just come knocking at my door, and say, “Surprise! I’m here! Let me in you HAVE to!” No, I opened the door willingly, and escorted him in feeding him along the way, “Are you hungry? You look famished! Let me get you a car payment! I’m sure you like those. Not to worry, in a few years, we’ll get you another one! Now what about a Credit Card? Do you like those? Oh, those are your favorites?!?! Well, we’ll have to get you a couple of those, too! You know, I’m not sure we’re feeding you enough?!?! You see the neighbor’s Debt next door is much bigger! Well, we can’t have you looking like we don’t feed you! Tomorrow we’ll go out and get something else on credit. Then, maybe, you’ll be a reputable size!”

This sounds ridiculous, huh?! But, how true it is! Gotta make sure we have more than other people or, at least, just as much! I mean how would it look if we drove USED PAID-FOR CARS?! And, bought items for the children at duhn-duhn-duhn-daaah…Yard Sales! Oh, how dreadful! Don’t you know what you are doing to them?! How shameful!!

Please, please, please agree with me here, folks. Tell me that this world is not made up of people who are so completely consumed by the THINGS in life, that they’ve forgotten what life is truly about! What happened to spending time playing board games with your kids, instead of watching them play video games? What happened to finding good, used toys at thrift stores for your kids to play with, and not running out to buy this year’s hottest, does anyone remember, TMX Elmo?!?

I am not an old person, although with three kids 5 and under I do often feel this way, but it seems my way of thinking is a thing of the past. Gone are the ghost stories told around the campfire on your family’s ONE summer vacation and on to the stress-filled sprints through the airports to get on the plane to some over-commercialized, WAY over-priced vacation destination, which may not even be the only vacation you take this year. That might just be ONE of your planned family vacations! And if I had to guess, I’d say most of these are being financed by Mr. Visa and Mrs. MasterCard.

And what if, I know, it’s shameful to even think of this, but what if you didn’t even go on a vacation?!??! Oh, the horror! Obviously those parents must be poor just extremely poor or cruel, just unspeakably cruel!

And, too, I gotta go here, Teachers, upon returning from the summer break do not ask your students to write an essay telling the class what they did this summer. Which truly means “What did you do on your summer vacation?”
What sort of magical experiences is a child supposed to relay when they did not go on vacation? For me, some summers were vacation-less. They were like any other part of the year spent with my family. And there was nothing wrong with that! But how would this essay sound to a group of your 8 year old peers?
“On my summer break I played in the water hose a lot. And, I spent a couple off weekends at my cousin’s house for sleep-overs.
The rest of the summer, I helped my Mom with chores, listened to records on my record player, read books, watched shows on one of the four channel choices on our one TV, and constantly fought with my brothers.”

Totally un-cool, huh?! No, the teacher and my fellow classmates expected excitement! Thrill them with your tales of Disney World. Make them envy you with your stories of airplane rides! Tell them how much money your parents spent in an effort to “make you happy” with stuff. Do not tell the truth! That’s a cool death sentence! And to top it off, if I were to be totally truthful my essay would have ended with, “and I’ve been secretly counting down the days til school would be back in session. I love school! It means I get to play with my friends, participate in kid-centered activities, and learn! I love Learning!”

See what I mean. These sorts of assignments that were meant to be just a jovial way of everyone letting the class know what they did, can be emotionally scarring! I certainly could not tell kids that I WANTED to be back at school, and we did not go on vacation! What kind of loser would I be marked as?!? And, it wasn’t that I was ashamed of my summer exploits (or lack thereof). But, asking me to tell everyone in the class what I did over the summer break made me think, “I’m never gonna let my kid feel this way. No, he will have TOO much to say about the action-packed vacations he has been on! Whatever it takes, I will make sure he is happy!!”

But, you see, I've learned stuff doesn’t make them happy. Vacations don’t make kids happy. I wasn’t unhappy about not going on vacation. I was fine with it. What made me anxious about the assignment, was having to tell everyone what I did, in front of the class! Now, everyone gets to scrutinize whether that was cool or not! The worst thing you can be as a kid is totally un-cool! And, it wasn’t my parents’ fault for not taking us on vacation (those lost vacations paid for lots of other things many of my counterparts would never experience, like money for college, a paid-for wedding, a down payment on a house, etc). The anxiety was induced by the Teacher who thought having kids share their summer excursions, was a good way to kick off the school year!

The Teacher’s intention was good, but the results were damning. I couldn’t lie and make up vacations we didn’t take. So I had to do something else. What I’d do was recall something funny that occurred over the summer (not hard to do when you consider the players are a whole family of screw-balls), and then elaborate on that. But, I was lucky, elaborating was something I was good at. And making people laugh with tales of my whacky family would make them forget that I didn’t mention a vacation, thus, bypassing my banishment to “un-cools-ville!”

Teachers need to learn that having a summer filled with stuff and trips does not make a kid happy or sad, cool or un-cool. But, it can make them over-stimulated, spoiled, and busy. And, it quite possibly, puts their parents in debt or for most, at least adds to it.

So, why is it that this society, this gloriously-advanced society, has forgotten about the simple things in life? My afore-mentioned friend seems to have forgotten about summer afternoons spent pushing your child on the swing. Muggy, late afternoon walks where whole insect worlds are discovered. Dusk to night evenings spent gazing at the clouds and identifying the stars. And why does he think it is better to buy his kids what they “want”? Instead of giving them what they need, him!

I can’t chastise too harshly here, because as stated above, I am a reformed spender. But, let me tell you, the most gratifying feeling you will ever have in your life is when you realize what life is about, and what it isn’t, and then start living life the right way! What a thought?!!?! Living what is right. Being a person your child can remember as always doing what they say and saying what they do! Do what you know to be right?!?! A preposterous idea, I know, but gratifying beyond belief!

Just a Little Patience

Sometimes I feel like telling the freight carrier who is delivering my highly important Internet bought items, that the reason I need this package NOW is because it is a medical emergency! A child medical emergency! That would produce results, wouldn't it?!? And, it's not really lying to say Child-Medical-and Emergency all in the same sentence if you look at the situation from my vantage point. You see, if I do not get this shipment soon the anticipation could, feasibly, cause me to self implode! I'm not kidding! I'm on the implosion end of this, and I know what I am feeling! And, if I did implode who would care for the children?!? Now, you see what I'm sayin'? Dan's a good man, but three kids?! Come on! Their lives are seriously at stake here!!

It's true. I have a problem! I just get so anxious!!

So, what you now know is that I am a bit lacking in the patience department! Or maybe, I am without a patience department all together. That could be true, too. And I'll tell ya, this is a really hard thing to overcome! If you ever want to put me into an unbridled panic, keep me waiting! This is when you will see that my head CAN really spin around on my neck. And my eyes CAN really pop out of my head! It's true, ask Dan, he's seen me do things while waiting, that have previously only been seen by priests during exorcisms!!

Priests. I bet they have patience. Just seems like something God would make a pre-requisite in becoming one! Anyone care to disagree?

Anyway, I grew-up Catholic. I'm not sure if it is because of this up-bringing or because I am just always seeking guidance, but I pray a lot. And something I am always praying God will grant me is patience! When I'm waiting on Griffin to finish pooping because I have three-thousand other things I need to do with my day and sitting in the bathroom with him because he just needs to tell me 'one more thing', is not really helping the dishes get done!! And when I'm picking up the 4-millionth food item thrown from Grant's high-chair tray and saying "No Grant. We do not throw food." I'm asking God for the patience it takes to be okay with food-stained walls and floors. This too shall pass, right?!?! Right?!?! I am right, God, aren't I?!? Oh please God tell me that some day he will find eating food more enjoyable than throwing it!

And believe me, I realize that these moments should be seen as precious memories that I should be able to look back on and think fondly of, or laugh about. But, when you have 3 kids, a husband, a full-time job, a house to take care of, etc, etc, sometimes the precious memory-making-moments, are more like plots against me. "You're trying to sabotage my plans, aren't you?!? You like seeing my head-spin! I know it can be comical, but really, it hurts and I can't see straight for hours afterwards! Please, just work with me here!!"

Patience is a terrible affliction to have to overcome. There should be a foundation for people like me, The Foundation for the Impatient and Angst-Ridden. Though, not one of us afflicted could be counted on to start the foundation b/c we are all too busy with other commitments and too impatient to have to write by-laws, set-up fundraisers, and, ugh, we just don't have the patience! I want the help, but, man, I'm going to need to drink if this is going to take time! Drinking makes me a much more relaxed person. And maybe this is the case for other people with patience problems. So, that correlation being made I have re-named our foundation The Foundation for the Impatient and Angst-Ridden Alcoholics!

But, being that I am impatient, I'm the perfect time-manager. Who better to put in charge of things getting done, than someone who can't stand to wait, right?!? I'm the one who is bothered greatly when things are not accomplished in the time allotted! So, you should let ME be in charge. Things will happen, chop -chop!

I think this is what Dan both loves and hates about my lack of patience. I get stuff done. That's a big plus. But, I'm like a time-nazi. What are you doing? Sitting down?! Why? Do you need something to do? I've got plenty that needs to be done.
At which point, inevitably, he will remind me that I don't get to run his time schedule, the kids' maybe, but not his. Geez! THAT"S NOT FAIR! I need you to back-up my time schedule! To feel the angst I feel when time is slipping away! Do what's right, honey, feed my obsession!!!

Griffin likes to play with my impatience problem, too.
Here's an example, it's 10 minutes til church starts, it takes only 5 minutes to drive there, just two minutes to get everyone into the car, and 3 minutes to walk everyone into their classes, and get ourselves into the service. So, we're good. We're on schedule. Now, Griffin, all he needs to do, is get himself out to the car.

"Mom, we cannot leave for church until I find my Transformer shoes b/c I am not wearing these dumb tie-up shoes. The laces always come un-tied and they hurt my feet and you always make me wear these dumb shoes and I'm not wearing 'em. I need to find my Transformer shoes they make me run fast and they don't have ties and oh, I need to bring my Spiderman with me b/c my friends don't have one of these and they're going to think this is cool and Spiderman you know what he can do, he shoots webs like this, spieeewww, spieeewww. And he swings from buildings, and you know Mom on my Spiderman movie, Doc Oc he's a bad guy. He tries to kill Spiderman. He's a bad guy. And Spiderman has a girlfriend and he kisses her. I saw him Mom! You don't like me to watch kissing and I saw 'em! Ha ha! He kisses her!!! Have you found my Transformer shoes yet, Mom?!"

Oh, the marrow in my bones is aching! I'm being pushed to the edge!

Why do I cling so fervently to the idea that order can come into my house of chaos? It's apparent my children have issues of their own. Like finding favorite Transformer shoes and determining which looks better splattered against the kitchen floor: Spaghetti or Ketchup-soaked Scrambled Eggs?

I think it's a problem to have to wait, and they wish I didn't have that problem!

So, what can you do? Live a life of frustration because your patience is always at the breaking point? Or learn to laugh at the fact that you have no patience and of course it would be at its breaking point, the beginning and end are at the same damn point!

The lesson here is, embrace your character flaws. They can be funny! I promise you, it's easier to laugh at your incompetencies then to live a life frustrated because no one understands!!!

Walking is Rough!

This weekend, the kids and I went to the Memphis Area Arthritis Walk.

My company was participating, and well, I figured 3 kids, hot sun, mile-plus walk, should equal really good naps for the boys!

Note to self: Never try to think things through, it always leaves you disappointed.

Turns out, I was the one who needed a nap afterwards! And, to all you people out there, quit slipping my kids speed, okay?! They're already more than I can handle!

P.S. Glad no one was taking pictures afterwards! I'd have to burn them all! The pictures, not the people taking them!! Thought clarification might be necessary, here :)

Okie-Dokie!

Do you have fond memories of any stores you regularly visited when you were a kid? I was just reminded of a store I used to LOVE going to when I was a kid, b/c I replied to someone's email Okie Dokie!

Yes, the store I adored was named Okie-Dokie! And those stores were the best! (Or maybe it was Oky Doky, but, whatever, you get the idea) What the Okie Dokie actually was, was a convenience store and gas station. And as a child, as you can imagine, the convenience store part was the draw for me!

I loved going to the Okie Dokie, especially the one right next to my Aunt and Uncle's house. And when I say right next door to, I mean, right next door, literally. It was so close it was like walking to the mailbox! Maybe this is not that hard to believe for some of you, but from the perspective of a little girl who lived on a farm and my nearest neighbor was 2 miles away, this was like unbelievable! And my lucky, I was so jealous, cousins got to live a stone's throw from the Okie Dokie! Not Fair, totally not fair! Where they could run next door and ogle candy and sodas and peruse magazines after school, I was getting off the 45 minute bus ride, to walk down a 3/4 of a mile long lane and hopefully, please God, not encounter any stray cows hanging out on the gravel road.

Cows are completely frightening when you are little, okay?!?! Well, or maybe just completely frightening to me, being the wussy child I was. But, when it's just you and the gravel, and this 800 lb stinky, road blocker, lots of crazy ideas start running through your head. Like, oh, I don't know the vision of your mom driving down the road and finding the pancaked remains of her precious daughter under the cud-chewing heifer camped out in the middle of the lane! Yeah, that one went through my mind a lot. Thus, my serious fear of the cows!

But, my city dwelling cousins, now they never had to face such fears on a daily. No, they could hang at the Okie Dokie whenever they wanted, and to get home, just walk the 30 paces to their front door! Oh how I envied them!

When I was staying over at my Aunt and Uncle's with my cousins, I'd make sure to bring like 2 or 3 dollars from my piggy bank just so I'd have plenty of money to load-up on penny and nickle candy with. Yeah, candy was that cheap! And good candy, too! Hard to believe, eh?! Especially in today's economy!

Well, this Okie Dokie was a child's dream! Row upon row of brightly packaged, neatly stacked candy containers with every flavor and every possibility you could imagine.
My cousins and I would come out of there looking like Candy Junkies. It was sick! I mean there were probably years where I got less loot trick-or-treating than on my visits to the Okie Dokie!

But, too, that was how my times were just being at my cousin's house anyway! My Aunt and Uncle always had a freezer full of every child's favorites, pizza rolls, push-ups, individually frozen pizzas (the kind you didn't have to share with your pig-crossed-with-man brothers.) Basically, anything I had seen advertised on TV, and then incessantly begged my mom for while we were at the grocery store, they had in their fridge or freezer. Believe me, I would have been Jaba-the-Hut had my parents kept as many kid-convenience foods in our house.
Well, but then, maybe not, because, as I previously stated, I had brothers who were genetically crossed with pigs and would immediately eat every appetising morsel brought through the threshold of our house. I can't even count the number of times I uttered, "Are all the xyz's gone???? You pigs! I didn't even get one!" Oh to be the youngest and a girl! There was absolutely no possibility of me ever filling up on snacks in our house, not as long as I lived there with them!

But, the Okie Dokie, it was mine all mine. When I went to visit my cousins, who were all girls by the way, my brothers were usually not along, and so, it was just me and my dollars, and a whole world of junk-food options. Life was good!
Then, one night, my love of the Okie Dokie changed. On this night, I would see violence in it's most primal form, for the first time.

It was my brother Craig, myself, and my Mom and Step-dad, and we were gassing up so that we could get on the road back to nowhere's-ville, when this car pulled up to the pump on the other side of us. The guys in this car started yelling, cussing and threatening the guys in another car that was gassing up on the other side of them. Then, all of a sudden, one of the guys from the car that just pulled up, jumps out of the car and starts getting in the other driver's face. It was like watching in slow-motion. Your mind was going so fast, but there was no time to react.

Right after the guy got out of his car and started yelling at the driver, a guy from the passenger side of this car got out with a baseball bat and started coming after the yelling guy. When that guy saw him, he bowed-up like "that bat can't hurt me" then the other guy cracked him with it. And, I mean, hit him. It was the most horrible thing I had ever seen. Not because there was blood everywhere or anything like that. But, because this guy, knew in holding this bat, that he could do serious damage to this other guy and yet, he still hit him, and hard, too. With hate-filled eyes and rage pulsing through his veins, he hit him!
The guy who got hit kind of stumbled back, and tried to like come at the other guy, but then realized he'd be fighting a battle he would not win; so he retreated back to his car. The other guy hit the driver's side of his vehicle with the bat several times before the guy could drive off. But, once he did, it was over. Over in seconds this vicious attack with both parties fleeing as fast as they could so not to be there by the time the cops showed up.

It was scary I tell you! I was completely freaking out! Completely! Didn't they know this was the Okie Dokie where kids come to live out their candy-filled dreams? This is a sacred place. Take your violence somewhere else. Would you act this way if this were a church? Well, it was. It was my temple. I worshipped this Okie Dokie, and you just brought your hatred and rage into my sacred place! I was not only scared, but mad! Now I have something else to fear, great! Don't you know I'm already afraid of cows?!?!? In fact, my whole world is filled with fears! Now I can't even go to the one completely magical place on earth without fearing something bad could happen. Thanks a lot you dirty bastards!

So, as you can imagine, from this point on I walked tentatively to the Okie Dokie. Not with the joyful bounds that used to carry me there. No, now we would drive up to my Aunt and Uncle's house and I would make sure that neither of the cars I had seen there that night were, for some reason, back, just waiting to act out the violence again.

The memory of the Okie Dokie reminds me of something we all know. Kids are like sponges. Everything sticks with them. Everything.

Griffin wanted to roast marshmallows the other night. And so, I asked him, "Do you remember the first time you ever roasted marshmallows?" He said, "Yes. I was at my Grandma and Poppa's house and I held the stick like this and turned it and turned it and then blew on it to eat it."

It just amazed me that he remembered because that was over 2 years ago, and he remembers it like it was yesterday! And Grant, his memory is pretty spongy, too. Like how every morning he gets up and whines at the pantry door and points for you to open it, and then says "googie". And cries and cries if you start saying, "You want Goldfish?" Waaaaahhhh, "You want cereal?" Waaaaahhhh "Oh, you want a cookie?"
"Ha Ha, Googie, Googie!!!" And then runs off to sit at the table because he knows that's where he needs to be in order to get a cookie. And yes, I allow him to eat cookies in the morning, sometimes. Call DHS if you want. But, really, is it any worse than a bowl of Fruity Pebbles? Or any worse than a donut? Or should I say a frosted cake that, since it has a hole in it, we call breakfast!

You see, here's the thing, kids have these memories we older folks do crossword puzzles and play mind games to try and re-gain. So, let this be a lesson to us all. Everything you do your kids will remember. From the very best things you do for them to the very worst. They'll remember it. That's why we're all emotionally scarred adults. It's impossible NOT to be. Things happen. Life happens and some things you cannot control. But, what you can control is how you love your kids. Love them with all that you have because when scary cows and drunk, white trash try to disrupt your child's life, at least she will know that nothing can ever penetrate the Love Armor my Mom and Dad surround me with every day of my life.

Heart on His Sleeve

Last night, I was reminded of how sensitive I used to be. No one had to say to me, "Remember how everything used to make you cry?" or anything like that. No, the memories came rushing back when Griffin and I had a bed-time conversation. It was then that I saw, first-hand, that my son is my sensitive heart made-over, and it brought tears to my eyes.

Griffin loves his Daddy. First and foremost, whatever Daddy is into, he wants to be a part of it. Now, don't get me wrong, he loves his Momma. But, Mom is good for hugs and kisses and words of encouragement. Dad is good for Man-Stuff, like repairing vehicles, mowin' the grass, fishin', you know things you get to do with tools or things that have moving parts. All things hypnotic to a young boy.

And, Daddy teaches Griffin good things like how to tie knots, and the proper way to hold a golf club, and how to trip without spilling your beer (well, he's not been taught that one yet, but you do learn by example, you know!)

Anyway, last night, Dan had to work late. He was actually helping his friend put in two new Air Conditioning units and wasn't going to get home until the wee hours of the morning.

So, I was getting the kids ready for bed. Wyatt was sound asleep in his crib. Grant had already been put to bed, but he continued to sneak out, sticking his fat little head around the corner, giggling, waiting for me to see him. Then, when we make eye-contact he squeals with delight running full-sprint into the living room letting you know he has escaped the dreaded N-word, Nigh-Nigh. That little one HATES going to bed!!! He just has to be where the action is, and obviously, his bed is not the place!

It was about the 28th time I had said, "go to bed Grant, you're tired, go to sleep." and had then begrudgingly forced myself out of the chair and chased the little guy back into his room. At that time, Griffin was just getting out of the shower.

Griffin: "Mom? Where's my towel?"
Me: "In there on the floor. Don't you see it?"
Griffin: "No, Mom. That's my Dad's towel."
Me: "No, Griffin. Not the one on the back of the door, the one on the floor."
Griffin: "Oh, got it."

Griffin comes into the living room all wet and hair sticking up in about half-a-dozen directions, "Mom. Where IS my Dad?"

Me: "Well, Griffin, he's still working."
Griffin looks at me all puzzled. You can tell he is wondering why is my Daddy still working? He's usually home by now.

Griffin: "Well, when is he going to be home?" At this point you can see the sadness creeping into his face. He's realized that he will not see his Daddy before he goes to sleep, and the thought of this, on this night, is just more than he can bear.

Me: "I'm not sure, honey. But, it will probably be late. You'll see him in the morning, though."

That sadness is now palpable between us and the air is thick with Griffin's gloom and worry. I know all too well the things he is thinking right now. I know all too well that feeling of things being out of balance and off-kilter enough that your mind wonders and worries relentlessly.... Where could he be? What could be happening? Is he alright? Has something happened to him? Will I ever get to see him again? To tell him that I love him and ask him will he wrestle with me, and ask him to carry me on his shoulders? If he were okay wouldn't I have heard from him by now?

Griffin: "Mom, I miss my Daddy!" and then, the fitful crying began. Heavy and hard sobs.

Me: "Griffin. I'm sorry baby. Daddy had to work late. He will be home tonight, but you will already be asleep. I know he will come in and kiss you goodnight, though. He always does."

Griffin: "But, Momma. I miss him. I never even got to give him a hug. I want Daddy to come home!" Now the crying isn't as heavy but louder and messier. Snot has now started to drip from his nose.

Me: "Baby, come here. I love you and Daddy loves you. Sometimes people just have to work late. But he will be home. I promise."

Pause, me listening to crying.

Me: "Do you want to call Daddy? And tell him goodnight?"

Griffin: "Yeah."

Phone in hand, I hit Hubby in my cell phone, and hand it to Griffin.

Griffin: "Hello, Daddy. I miss you! When are you coming home? I was worried about you."

Dan on the other end is saying things like, "Buddy, I miss you too." And, "Honey, I can't understand you, what are you saying? Calm down and talk to me." And, "I know. Daddy is working late, but I will be home tonight. I promise to kiss you goodnight when I get home. I love you."

Griffin hands me the phone.

Dan: "That was dirty."

Me: "No it wasn't. Your son just wanted to talk to you. He needed to know you were okay. Now he'll be fine. We love you. We'll see you in the morning."

Griffin hugged me tight after that call. I know talking to Dan feeling that even if he wasn't there with us, he was somewhere, and he was okay, was all he really needed. I know because he is me. I felt it when those brown eyes looked at me and asked where his Daddy was. I could see it in that face. That beautiful, innocent face that has never experienced loss, but who fears it still. Who has never known true pain, but worries that someday he will.

A sensitive soul who hurts when the children on TV don't have enough food to eat in their country and worries who will take care of them? And wonders why people would hurt other people on purpose, who could do that? And why do some people not have homes, can't they come live with us?

As I've aged, I've had to overcome my sensitivity. I've had to become less Utopian. It's horrible to know that evil lives out there in the world, and that you are anyone's sucker for just believing that what a person says is what a person will do. It's horrible to experience these realities. It's not fair that in going out into the world, it means we have to take off our rose-colored glasses. Why? Why does growing up mean we can no longer see the world with the eyes of a child?

I felt a great sense of loss seeing that tenderness in my son, and knowing that it is all but gone in myself.

Keep that sensitive soul, sweetheart. Don't let the world tell you you need to toughen-up. Worry about the welfare of others, son. Never stop caring. And know that it is always okay to cry, always. I hope no one ever tells you that boys don't cry because they do. And I love that about you little man. I love that your true and adoring love for people cannot be held back by any sort of foolish man-code. It's a silly made-up lie.

So, Griffin, go out into the world and feel it. Feel all of it. Hurt with others, feel joy and fear and worry. And don't let the world capitalize on your sensitivity. Know that it is your gift. Hold it dear, God gave it to you, don't lose it. One day you will do great things with that big heart of yours, baby. I just know it.

Perspectives

I started a garden this year. It's my second attempt at one. A few years ago I tried to grow a small garden, but I was like 18 and a half months pregnant and it was the middle of the summer, and well, I just didn't waddle my butt out there to take care of it, and the plants died! I know, shocking, huh?!

This year, I went all out. I have a pretty large area that Dan so kindly tilled up for me (thank you honey, I know it was not something you wanted to do!) I am attempting to grow yellow squash, zucchini, acorn squash, cucumbers, tomatoes, carrots, pea pods, watermelon, and cantaloupe (which will probably not grow because I planted the seeds too deep! Finicky seeds like to be just an inch or so below the soil and I thought I should plant 'em 7 or 8 inches below the ground! Oops! Sorry cantaloupe, I'm new at this!)

What's funny about this, to me, about growing a garden, is that I used to HATE to work the garden with my mom and step-dad! I loved the veggies and fruit we would get from it, but detested having to pick and snap and wash and on and on. It was just so much WORK! That dreaded 4 letter word that all kids hate, WORK!

It's funny, though, I guess as you age you find that the things you thought you hated as a kid, can be really cool things as an adult.

Like, here's another one, we used to have to go out to the woods, as a family, and the boys and Jerry would chop a fallen tree up, and I would have to help load the wood into the truck. Again, WORK, I hated it! I just wanted to stay home and play records on my Fisher-Price record player, or play dress-up with my Barbies, anything, but WORK! It was hot and sweaty and boring!

But, now, I wish so much that Dan and I had acres of timber! We'd be out chopping and loading and having a picnic lunch! And my boys would be responsible for helping with it all. Now, to me, that sounds like fun!
Amazing how your perspective changes.

Perspectives have been on my mind a lot lately. Especially because everything we ask Griffin to do, is called WORK by him. And, Gosh, don't you know work is hard?!?!? Well, apparently, if I ask him to clean his room, that is work, and cleaning is hard, and "Mom, I'm not a good cleaner, it will take me forever. You clean it, you're a good cleaner!" Yeah, sweetheart, it's called practice and I've had a good 25 years or so!

Which brings up a conversation we had the other day,
Me: "Griffin, we need to come up with a list of chores for you. You want to earn money, and well, you should. So, Daddy and I are going to come up with a list of chores for you."

Griffin: "Okay, I like money. I need money to buy stuff, so give me some chores, Mom."

I told him Dan and I would talk about it and we'd sit him down soon and tell him what his chores will be and what we will pay him to do them.

So, then, yesterday, we get home and Griffin says
"Mom? Have you and Dad made my chores yet?"

Me: "No, we're still working on it."

Griffin: "Well, I know what they should be. I should have to get up in the morning, and fix my cereal, and eat it. And, I will just ride my bike and listen to you and take a bath."

Oh really, is that right?? You mean I get to pay you for existing! Great!! I think I already do that by putting a roof over your head and cereal in your bowl and a pillow under your head!

Me: "Well, honey, fixing your cereal is something you do for yourself, and it does help us, but I don't think it qualifies as a chore. And, riding your bike, listening to me, and taking a bath are just things you do. So, they're not chores, either."

Griffin: "Huuuuhhhhh? Chores are work, aren't they?"

Me: "Yes."

Griffin: "I don't want any chores, Mom. Chores are work and I DO NOT like WORK, it's hard."

Oh buddy, you have no idea!

So, that made me think about Griffin and his perspective. If Work equals Hard and Play equals Fun, then maybe I should start changing his perspective on fun?
So, I think I'll start making him dress in skirts to ride his bike, and wear a girl's swim suit to go swimming. What do you think? Cruel and Unusual? Or just a new way of changing your child's perspective??? Doing chores doesn't sound so bad if it means not having to go to the pool in a bikini, huh?!?!
****Note to self: Don't forget to take pictures!!