February Trip South

Our yearly trip south is never long enough, at least the part where it's spending time with my son and grandson. This year, with the upcoming arrival of my son's second child, due March 11th, we decided to make the trip down earlier in the year rather than wait until August like we have always done in past years.  I originally was going to go down alone because my son had asked if I could come help him out, taking care of things around the house and with his 3 year old. I dreaded the thought of going down alone but I took his request as a silent cry for relief and to get a break from the nonstop stressors and madness he deals with on a daily basis; I don't know how he does it, working full-time, running a household pretty much alone, furthering his education and taking care of his son with very little help from his girlfriend or her parents and what little help he does get, it's usually his girlfriend's father watching our grandson when my son goes to work or school, but that too has declined drastically due to health issues my son's girlfriend's father is now dealing with.

I have always believed adult children will eventually find mates similar to their parent and this is very true in the case of my daughter. My son-in-law is eerily identical to my husband when it comes to personality, temperament and character, it's like looking at a younger clone version of my husband and I've often thanked God she found him but, my son's girlfriend, there is no way in hell I have ever been as indolent as she is and there is a lot of tension between the two of us because of it.

I suppose her disdain toward me is warranted same as mine is for her, only difference is, our antipathy toward each other is for different reasons and I have always had a very hard time hiding behind a false facade, my feelings are not easily hidden. Once I get to know someone and see their true character, if I don't like it I try to avoid the person because even when I try to fake it, it's distinctly transparent. It's comparable to holding down a job you've become miserable in. You enter into it with high expectations, find little things that annoy you or find intolerable, you try working through the irritations weighing the pros and cons but eventually, if things don't change, you end up not doing your best work or giving it your all, same as in relationships.   

When we left for South Carolina we knew there was a good chance we'd be there for the birth of our (third) grandson. Although her due date wasn't until March she had already started showing signs of early labor.  We arrived at our extended stay hotel too late Saturday the 14th to make the trip over to the house so we waited until Sunday morning to make an appearance.  My son was working Saturday night anyway and his girlfriend, well, this would be the first we'd be seeing her since our clash of personalities that took place last time they all were up north.  But now that she was blessing us with another grandchild, and for my son's sake I needed to shelf my animosity toward her and hope she wouldn't cause further contention within the family as she has so many times before.

After we arrived at the house and shortly after  the boys left to run errands she went into labor, and two hours later we were blessed with our third grandson.  Kingston made his appearance without complication Sunday the 15th of February and he is absolutely beautiful.

Bugsy (as I affectionately call him)  spent the week with us at the hotel and although it's only once a year we get to see him, he was very comfortable staying with us and was a typical 3 year old, spending a great deal of the time jumping on the beds, dancing on the window sill and running around through the rooms.  I laughed pretty much the whole time.  He is getting so big and I often find myself saddened I don't have the same relationship as I do with my daughter's son, Bean (a nickname I dubbed my second grandson).

Whenever we stay at a hotel I write out a backwards message on the bathroom mirror.  Yes, call me juvenile, believe me when I say I've been called worse. One morning after hubby took Bugsy to his therapy class I finished my shower and stepped out to see another message written out below the one I had written. My mischievous side was reciprocated and I am almost certain not by an imprisoned entity behind the mirror. Apparently my impishness has rubbed off on my daughter.

One of our day trips took us to Old Town Bluffton not far from my son's home and actually a short hike on a beautiful day. We opted to drive though because although we left behind mounds of snow up north it was a tad bit chilly in the low-country this trip and we never know how long we'll stroll through town.
We never miss a visit there when we go down although I'm positive my husband wished we would. I never seem to leave without purchasing a few small items or browsing through my favorite quaint little bookstore.  We visited, what will be a new favorite haunt, Lawton Stables located on Hilton Head Island and not far from my son's place of employment.  Bug's enjoyed clucking with the chickens and was in awe with a Clydesdale horse who goes by the name of Harley.  And although we didn't get a chance to get to Savannah, Ga. this trip like I wanted to to stroll the historic district ( Mikenna and I like to admire and take photos of the old architectural buildings) we did go sightseeing on Hilton Head and I've picked out our new vacation home. Now if only we could win big in the lottery.



Our trip back home emerged into a perilous journey to say the least. Our travels through West Virginia alone was a daunting 8 and 1/2  hours which normally takes better than half that time.  Besides the Semi that fishtailed and ended up with its trailer turned completely around (pictured here) there were numerous vehicles in ditches and the majority of them were plows attempting the process of removing snow. Go figure! We even witnessed a salt truck flip over, not entirely due to icy roads but in part to its load shifting as it maneuvered a turn.



The one good thing about making the trip in a car versus flying, which I'd prefer, is looking for the Coffindaffer crosses that adorn the interstate highways. West Virginia has more sets of crosses planted than any other state, their number ranging in the hundreds. Sadly though the weather wouldn't cooperate and made it difficult to spot these magnificent spiritual symbols.  We did although spot a couple enormous single crosses planted in the fields of Pennsylvania.



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~The stupid neither forgive nor forget; the naïve forgive and forget; the wise forgive but do not forget.  ~Thomas Szasz

You forgive those simple because you still want them in your life, it doesn't mean you forget the hurt.

Originally posted 3/17/15 @ 12:41 am (3)

Altrusic Acts

The social movement "Pay it Forward" has been around a considerable amount of  time.  After doing some research - as little as possible, I may add - I found it may have very well started as far back as 317 BC in ancient Athens when the concept was used in the play Dyskolos written by Menande.  "Make rich as many people as you can by your own efforts. For this act never dies." 

Since then, some of our greats throughout the centuries have used and implemented this philosophy in their own works and daily lives.
Lily Hammond is to believed to have coined the phrase in her 1916 book In the Garden of Delight  with the quote "You don't pay love back; you pay it forward".  I had started reading it online because our libraries in the area don't have it for loan. Ah, what a wonderful thing the internet is.

In todays age of social media the ripple effect of this philosophy could be enormous; it is truly amazing when you think about it.  One person's kind gesture of paying it forward could thus yield a world of difference whether your alms be to a charitable cause, a thoughtful deed or even just a kind word or friendly smile.  A friend on Facebook (John)  posted a pay it forward drive he himself is taking part in, so I decided I would be a part of it too, through him. 

I'm reminded of a vacation day in Delaware this past summer. As Mikenna and I walked around sightseeing in Rehoboth Beach while her father worked she spotted a police officer writing tickets for cars parked in expired parking meter spots.  She asked me for a quarter and I was a little puzzled since we had just come from the boardwalk. I gave her the quarter and she walked towards a car parked at one of those expired meters, its red flag stood erect.  I stood there and watched her drop it in the meter and I smiled. As she walked back to me, I reached into my purse and retrieved what quarters I had and as we walked under the warmth of the day amidst the bustling crowds of beach goers it warmed my heart to see her paying it forward. That small act of hers ended up costing a mere $3.75 giving us not only a cherished memory we shared together, but also a feeling deep down within us, that maybe, in some small way, we made a difference in someone's life.  And then the next day, we were the ones who got a parking ticket.

We all are capable of implementing some form of this, whether it's big or small. An 11 year old proved that.

"What wisdom can you find greater than kindness" ~Jean-Jacques Rousseau

If Only It Was This Easy All The Time

I was baking Christmas cookies when Kenna walked in from school. The baby was in his highchair snacking on cheerios, at least when his hands weren't up to his ears when I'd belt out a Christmas tune. He'd giggle when I'd lean down and nuzzle his neck every time he'd raise his arms and cup his ears to block out my holiday melody. So young and already a critic, runs in the family.

The smell of vanilla filled the air, most likely due to me dropping the open bottle and it splattering everywhere. I love cooking but absolutely dislike baking. It's always so messy and there's always so many utensils needed.  When I cook I never measure anything, that's how I remember my daddy doing it. He went by taste and smell and watching him cook was always so exciting for me, but with baking, measuring is a must and it's more of a pain to me than anything.

 As Kenna walked by the island on her way to greet the baby her hand slid over to the cooling rack where a batch of Italian chocolate cookies sat. As she grabbed a fistful I sternly recited her full name, first, middle two names and her last. Yes, it's a mouthful but don't all mothers do that when their impish tykes do something they shouldn't? Tyke? She's certainly not a small child any longer!  She immediately dropped her cookie loot and turned to me with a sheepish grin. I tried not to smile which didn't work and told her to take them after she went in to wash her hands. As she passed by me she leaned in and kissed me, and with a perplexed look but inquisitive tone she asked if she could talk to me about something. I paused for a split moment thinking, OH DEAR. My immediate thought after hearing her request I have to admit, was less than enthusiastic thinking something horrible happened in school.  I replied, "Of course" and as she continued on to the bathroom her words were "I have a dilemma and need some advice. but we'll do it later after Cruz goes home". 

Kenna has always been very open with me. She's a parent's dream child. she's considerate, compassionate, and empathetic. She's not afraid to ask nor is she hesitant to tell me things, two things I have always had difficulty doing. She minds without argument even when she doesn't want to do what she has been asked to do.  Even when she has done something wrong her conscience weighs heavily and the strain of it overwhelming for her and she admits to her wrongdoing. I have had some great giggles over silly little things she has admitted to. Just yesterday she came clean to snooping through the pile of Christmas gifts that sit prestigiously under the tree.

Later, after Cruz left, the two of us while decorating the sugar cookies we made the day before, she divulged her problem to me. Our talk began with a question from her - " Mom, when did you start dating?" Dating? What is dating to an 11 year old? I had dated 4 guys and only two of them in the true sense of the word.  

Mark S. my first. That was a long-distance relationship, he would hitchhike 5 hours to New York to come see me from his home in Pennsylvania on the weekends and stay with his aunt while here. He was a sweet guy when he wasn't drinking. After a few years of hiding the bruises I finally had had enough.

Then there was John S., the only one my own age and he broke my heart, breaking up with me because I refused to give up my virginity.

Steve P. was more than a few years older than me. I started dating him when I was in high school. He was a Medical Technician by day and a musician by night. He was very patient but his dream was to move to California, and he did. And then my husband, the perfect gentleman and he still is to this day.

She commenced to tell me there's a boy who likes her and on good authority (her words) he was going to ask her to be his girlfriend. Kenna, being the way she is finds humor in just about everything. She then commented, " I'm a girl and we're already friends, what more does he want?!" She continued saying this boy use to "date" a girl she now hangs out with and although she likes this boy, a lot, and they are already friends, she didn't know if she should say yes because she didn't want to hurt the girl's feelings nor ruin the friendship she and this boy already had. An hour later,  after some deep conversation about boys she ended with a statement and a very insightful one at that - " I'm only in 6th grade, I don't even know what love is yet!" I hope the next six years are just as easy.

Open Your Eyes, Avoid The Possible Perils



My children are the most important thing in my life, I would give up my own for them.  When they are happy, I am happy, when they are sad, I am sad, and when they hurt, I hurt.


I've known and seen parents blatantly put their children in harms way without the thought of the ramifications if something goes awry and danger finds its way to them.  I'm reminded of the time I walked into an establishment to see a little girl age 4 or 5 sitting alone in a playroom next to a propped open exit door, no adult supervision and the parent off in another location watching a demonstration.


I am by no means perfect and have had my share of lapse in judgment but this was not the first time I had witnessed nor had been told this parent had done something like this, although, I did come to realize the person telling me these things is a pathological liar.  I thought to myself, Why would anyone, let alone a parent, leave their young child(ren) unsupervised in a public space?  What kind of parent would do that?  I suppose, until a tragedy finds them, they don't think about things like that or they're just oblivious and lacking any parental sensibility.


I have been openly accused of being over-protective, this title I wear proudly. There are too many sick, callous individuals (I've come across a few) walking among us and I cringe with horror when I witness a parent who is impervious to the dangers.


When I decided to have children my main job became that of caregiver, nurturing them, and keeping them safe by allowing them to grow and explore the world cautiously.
Mishaps happen all the time, bad things can and do occur at the blink of an eye.  A lot of them can be avoided with a little common sense but other times, even if we take precautions, some times bad things happen because of others stupidity.

Head Staples

Christmas Memories

Christmas has always been a wistful and lugubrious holiday for me.  From a very young age I've been able to sense and feel the sadness and pain in others and I think that has contributed to it.  So many people hurt especially during the holiday seasons and I pick up on that which instinctively causes a deep, for lack of a better word, depression within me. I've learned to try to suppress that and surround myself with positive, happy energy rather than negative but sometimes that is impossible and so, I search out solitude to ground me.

Cruz reaching for the orb no one saw

Last Christmas I wasn't up to par to set up and trim my memory tree.  As a matter of fact, I didn't do any of the decorating last year because of illness nor did I don the Santa suit on Christmas Eve at the family celebration either.

 

The ornaments that adorn my remembrance tree represent a loved one who is no longer here. I put it up this year and as I placed each memorial ornament on its boughs I paused for a moment to remember them. It seems to be filling faster with each passing year.
I make each ornament myself. In the picture above, my daughter's tree is in front of it filled with her ornaments she receives each year, a tradition my older daughter started with her years ago. And at my families Christmas gathering I even donned the red suit like I had so many years in the past.





For the last few years Kenna has been questioning the existence of Santa Clause.


Eve the  elf made an appearance





It's been a difficult task, It's been harder and harder each year to continue the façade and keep the magic present. I even pulled out the old Elf on the Shelf and bought an elf ornament, adding a message on the back of it for her.

I encouraged her to write a letter to that Jolly Ol' man and she did.




Cruz not happy wearing the antlers


I suppose it has helped I keep reiterating to her
"You don't believe, you don't receive." And although two of the things on her wish list will take time to tell if they come to fruition, she did get the other two items and Santa even answered her questions. (Best I could)



I so dislike the fact she will one day tell me I'm full of reindeer poop and the magic of believing in an benevolent figure will be gone. And although she knows the true meaning of Christmas, isn't there something innocent and heartwarming to have your child wake Christmas morn with that gleaming sparkle in her eye thinking Saint Nick visited the night before?






This Christmas, I have had so much to be thankful for.  My health issues are currently being managed successfully and the biopsy I had to have last month came back as being benign, a far cry from where I was last year at this time.  But the most precious gift I cherish with all my heart, is a baby boy I affectionately call Bean.

Wrapped Up in Thoughts

 

I sat at the kitchen table yesterday afternoon looking out upon the vast emptiness of the field behind our home, I often do this when there is a lot on my mind. I had finished feeding the baby his lunch a half hour or so earlier and he was restless yet tired. His morning nap was a short intermission from his otherwise bustling self. He lounged comfortably on my lap off and on while I gazed outward through the dank glass door, him occasionally reaching up with his tiny perfect hand to touch my face. His tender caress on my skin soothing and I could sense his inquisitiveness.  He has been very clingy lately and is not happy unless he is being held, so I hold him, I rock and sing to him.  He actually does not mind my singing but rather enjoys it, I give him another four months before he takes cover and runs from my vocal warbling.  A light flurry of snow began to fall and it was magical. I am so looking forward to Christmas morning this year, whether it's due to this small babe who eventually found repose in my arms, his slumber there within them comforting to me or due to other reasons. I look at him and Mikenna and I see love, I see all that is good and I rejoice in the small miracles and celebrate the life we have.   

Music is Universal

Music is universal.

Kenna received an Apple ipod for her birthday back in March, she's bugged me nonstop to upload music to it ever since it was gifted to her. And while she knows more about computers than  I or her father ever will know, not to mention how to get around on them (she's constantly being beckoned to come help one of us) she also knows she's not allowed to go on the computer unless she has permission from one of us and she's never to download anything.  Hence her constant nagging to me to download iTunes.

I finally downloaded it on my laptop recently (without having a few hitches, no surprise there. She even had to help me with that.) and she couldn't wait to start the music uploads. When I asked her what songs she wanted me to sync onto her ipod, thinking it would be some boy band like One Direction, (she thinks Harry Styles is dreamy) I was pleasantly surprised, then, somewhat shocked at her requests.

Without a single moment of hesitation her first requested upload was Vanessa Carlton's 'A Thousand Mile'
saying it was and always will be our song (She's my sentimental child). 


But what surprised me and I had no idea she even knew who he was, was her second requested upload - John Denver's 'Calypso'.  She knows every word and every note to it.  Her telling me to listen to the words, it's a very "profound" song. Sometimes I wonder if she's actually a 10 year old.

So far there are only the two songs on her ipod.  And although I love to watch her dance around the house singing (loudly I may add) I have to say...I'm already sick of both of those songs. Even hearing her sing them. 

It was a relief the other day to wake with an irritatingly catchy earworm of  "What would you do-Oo-oo with a Klondike bar."  LOL, I can think of a few things.

Picture Perfect

My handsome son

 

24 years ago today I gave birth to a 8lb 9oz baby boy who came out looking like a little alien. His look evolved into the exact likeness of a Cabbage Patch doll. And this is him today!

 

Happy 24th birthday, Ax

Love At First Sight

 

 

  


 Mouse meeting her nephew for the first time.

 

 

 

And, even though her brother said he didn't want to go over to his sister's house with us to meet the new addition to our family, he couldn't resist.

 

 

   

Anticipation

We had my daughter's baby shower last month.  What a project it was to pull off alone not to mention a little costly.  It was a bit stressful for me, me being obsessive as to everything having to be perfect, and, that anal retentiveness at times seems to always drain me. It even upsets my children at times to watch me knock myself out over trying to have things just right.
But I did it and it was well worth the time and effort especially after seeing everyone enjoy themselves, but especially my daughter, it getting her mind off the stresses she's been enduring throughout her pregnancy and for a few hours she seemed relaxed.

I seldom ask people for help so when my niece asked to go with me to check out venues when I embarked on this venture, I took her up on her offer. She witnessed firsthand how picky I can be. I swear we must've checked out over 10 banquet halls and restaurants.  And although I chose the more costly restaurant which I opted for the sit down meal versus a buffet (hearing buffet evokes the phrase sneeze-food in my mind) it was worth the extra cost for the simple reason the restaurant I chose was very accommodating when it came to time restrictions. There were none and we were not rushed to get through the party.  All the other venues we looked at were either too small for our party size, not private or had extra hidden costs and all of them had those time limits as to when we had to be out. 

Mouse took it upon herself with the help of her father (his wallet to be specific) to search the internet and order a special t-shirt for the occasion without me or anyone else knowing.  At the shower she slipped it on over her dress after her sister arrived.  It was quite a cute idea and she even came up with the printed saying on it. (Photo of her t-shirt above) And how true it is.

I sit here bedside next to my daughter at the hospital and I wait with anticipation for the arrival of my grandson. By tomorrow Cruz Edward (DE3) will be in my arms.

Sent from my Wireless Phone

A Decade Later

It certainly does not feel like 10 years have come and gone.  My baby girl has entered into her double digits.To think, back when I found out I was pregnant with her I cried knowing I would be starting all over again with a new little one. My other three children were at ages where I could finally sit back and breath a bit, although I'm sure they'd all say I was overprotective and held on to the reigns a little too tightly. It was only after the scare of almost losing another baby, her, that I realized God had a plan and I thank him each and every day that he has blessed me with her and allowed me to bring her into our lives, this beautiful, funny sometimes annoying creature who calls me mom.I fondly think back and I would not change a thing!
Happy birthday, Mikenna. <3

Gatherings

I stood across the room watching Meah.  She found a seat on the couch next to her aunt whom she seldom sees but two or three times a year. With everything that's been going on, all the get-togethers as of late she's had the blessed opportunity to see this side of the family more than usual.  Her father walked up behind me and he wrapped his arms around me.  His strong hold on me felt good, I felt safe.  I've always felt secure and protected in his arms.  We watched as she manipulated her hands in talk, her limbs taking flight giving animation to her words and he softly chuckled in my ear commenting "she's just like you."  I turned, taking my sight off her and planting my visual senses on his hazel eyes asking whether he thought that was a good thing or not. He smiled and leaned into me, his soft kiss on my lips answered my question.

We stood there a good ten minutes watching her.  A nine year old and forty one year old deep in conversation but I don't think her aunt even had an opportunity to speak.  When I asked her later what the conversation was about, her nonchalant reply to me amused me "Oh, you know, this, that and everything else " then she asked me "Is there really life after death?"  I didn't know where that had come from and I asked her if that was the conversation she had had with her aunt. She answered me with a questionable "no." She proceeded to ask me about a picture she saw on my camera from Christmas.

The blob on the right,
almost translucent we have no idea what it is

There has been a few strange happenings here in the domicile.  And although I'm hesitant in speaking of this with the fear of sounding "crazy" (I could cite a rogue blog entry here pertaining to me) at least I know now I'm not the only one who has witnessed these strange occurrences.  Besides the odd image in the picture shown here which I shrugged off as a glitch with the settings, although a second picture taken within a minute was fine, there have been some eerie, unexplained and unusually bizarre incidents going on.

I've seemed to have shrugged off the majority of these events, giving them little if any respectable merit at all. Just as I have with some individuals.  There was an evening I had awaken, got up to go to the bathroom and as I walked past the living room heading back to bed my sight caught a glimpse of a figure standing in the living room.  It frightened me and I was taken aback at the time but too tired and sick to think about it, convincing myself it was just my imagination especially since when I took a double take it no longer was there.  But the thing that disturbs me, which I don't know if she's even congnizant of but wonder now after asked that question, was the night I heard a loud bang from her room and I thought she had fallen out of bed.  It was after 2 am, I had been just drifting off to sleep when I heard the loud noise and I rushed to her room to see her garbage pail had been propeled across the room and its contents scattered on the floor.  After I checked on her and seen she was still tucked tightly under the covers and fast asleep, I picked up the can and garbage, on the floor among the scattered wrappings and crumpled papers her rosary lay.  I stood there perplexed wondering how and why that happened. And although a young boy died in a tragic accident here in the 60's  I've never had the feeling of uneasiness in this house until that night and I find myself repeating over and over in my head, it's not the dead you need to fear, it's the living.