Today's Therapy Session Ended Early

Mostly because my kid was throwing things at the therapist.

And the kid was doing so well.

The kid has been helping in the decision making process for weekly "homework."  It's all up to the kid, it's no one else's responsibility, I don't even know what it is or when it's done.  Apparently today there was a disagreement on how many times the kid was suppose to do the assignment.  The kid swore it was only twice but the therapist had written down the number three.

The kid closed down.  Declared, that if anyone had made a mistake, it was the therapist.  Certainly not the child.  Then the kid announced a desire to chuck a shoe at the therapist and wisely opted for pillows instead.  Some blankets were thrown too.

The therapist left the room, decided that wasn't such a good idea (there's a lock on the door) and had the kid leave the room and had me come in so we could talk.  She related what had happened, we talked about what to do and I went back to the waiting room to let the kid know, there was a mess to be cleaned up and that kid was the one cleaning it.

My dear child announced, there was no way THAT was going to happen, so I sat down, said that was okay, I had my book, there was plenty of time and I read for a bit.

Maybe five minutes.

Kiddo stormed up, went back, cleaned up the mess and stormed out.  We were done for the day.

Obviously there is a reason this child is getting help.  Overall, things are better.  This kid is happier, is doing better with friends, with siblings, has figured out how to better problem solve in everyday life, not to mention doesn't rage nearly as often or as violently.  There is good coming from counseling.

It's just taking some time.

Three Good Things

I haven't posted a lot of stuff the past few months.  Some is embarrassing.  Some, I don't know how to express myself without causing problems because I'm bound to offend *vague waving of hands* somebody.

So here's my neutral, feel good post.  Three good qualities of each of my children because I need to write it and someday, they just might need to read what their mother thought of their potential while they were still children.

Jane

1.  My dad made the comment when Jane was three that she was the most cheerful child he'd ever met and that still holds true.  If ever there was a ray of sunshine, that smiles at the drop of a hat and finds joy in the littlest things, it's my Jane.  She's always been happy and that is a gift from God.  How many of us can find happiness just in being.  My Jane can.  I hope she can hold onto that as she continues to grow. 

2.  She loves unconditionally.  It's the same beautiful quality my brother Malcolm has.  It doesn't matter who the person is, what their interest are, if they're a jock or a beauty queen, a nerd or a brain, Jane loves them all.  I remember when she had a falling out with the neighbor, this girl had decided that Jane wasn't "cool" enough to hang with and I told this girl that someday she'd realize what a mistake she'd made because although she wasn't "cool", she's real and when it comes to friends, you want the real ones, the ones that are there, no. matter. what.   That's the kind of friend Jane is and it's because of this beautiful unconditional love.  It translates into a person that doesn't judge.  I really think it's one of her best qualities.

3.  From the day she was bitty, she's always been generous.  There's different kind of generous, there are those that are generous with their time or those that are generous of their belongings or even those that are generous with their talents.   Jane, is a bit of all of that.  When she was a tot, she'd shove her half eaten cracker in your mouth.  As much as I didn't appreciate saliva soaked snacks, this inner need to share did give me great delight and she's kept that as she's grown. 

Christmas this last year was fantastic as she chose to shop for everyone on her own.  The amount of thought that she put into each present, it was clear she didn't buy merely out of an obligation because her parents told her too.  She had obviously, carefully handpicked each item.  Not only that, but she carefully picked out presents for all three birthdays that are the week of Christmas.  We were and are so proud of her.  Think of what kind of world it would be if everyone immediately thought of the person next to them and just tried to make them smile.   What kind of world would it be?   So generosity.   A quality I admire in my oldest.

Kate

1.  Kate is tough.  It's rather funny to type out because Kate's my meltdown child.  "My arm is itching"  (meltdown)  I have a hangnail (meltdown)  I can't figure out my math homework (then the world ends).  But seriously, when it counts, when it really counts, that child digs in her heels and plows forward like nobody's business.  It's truly amazing and she has only just begun to realize that she's much tougher then she ever imagined.

You can really see her digging in her heals in her school work, which brings me round to number two.

2.  I have never seen anyone put as much effort into school as Kate.  You have to understand that Kate has a severe learning disability and it's been a battle to figure out how to help her learn.  With a big, in your face to her learning disability, Kate has poured herself into schoolwork with a tenacity that is awe inspiring.  The child, in her main stream classes pulls A's and B's.   Folks, Kate has trouble reading which means every academic class is a major challenge for her.  Talk about digging in your heals. 

3.  Kate is my natural mother.  From birth, she's mothered others.  When the twins were born, she stole them, so she could mother.  She naturally tries to help the littler people problem solve.  She kisses owies without flinching.  Her feelings are hurt if someone goes to the higher authority (me or dad) but she still puts herself out there and tries to help the littler ones, in whatever way possible.  I love this about Kate and I know, from a blessing she was given that she will be a mother and raise her own children.  I do believe she has the tools to do a very fine job, when the time comes.

Ean

1.  Ean is a person of logic.  When he understands the logistics of something, nothing will sway him away from an innate truth.  You can't fool him, you can't sway him, all he wants are facts and thank you very much, he'll draw the natural conclusion.  After experiencing two emotional females, it's truly a different world to have this kid that is basically, the facts, just give me the facts.  Sometimes it's downright refreshing.  *smile*

2.  This kid is scary smart.  He eats knowledge for breakfast, usually coming back for seconds.  He loves to learn.  Now don't get me wrong, this doesn't mean he loves school.  School is a challenge for various reasons, but he loves to learn.   For instance, it's now Wednesday, three days after Easter.  For Easter, Ean received a book, aimed towards children but still pretty darn detailed on the human body.  He finished it yesterday.  All eighty pages of text and diagrams but not only did he finish reading the book, but he understands what he's read.  Go ahead, ask my eight year old what the lymphatic system does.  I dare you.

3.  He's trying to be a better person.  Words can't describe how much I admire and appreciate his willingness to recognize that his way wasn't working (in life, in school, at home) and he's using new skills to find better ways to problem solve.  How many of us simply plow forward using the same faulty techniques that have failed us time and again in the past.  It's been hard but my son is not only trying to be a better person, he's succeeding.  His big triumph three weeks ago was walking away from a threatening situation and going to his teacher. instead of staying in a potential altercation.    I don't think words can describe how huge this was for him.   Talk about my mother's heart swelling with joy for him.   You go son!

Greg

1. Often called my "velcro child", Greg is my lover.  Oh does that kid love deeply and fully.  He loves unconditionally, fully, with devotion.  While I fear for his heart breaking as he grows and the future point he'll be in relationships, I have no doubt that when he finds someone worthy of his love and devotion, that lucky woman will be treated like a queen.

2.  Greg enjoys helping.  He'll help his dad fix the dishwasher.  He'll help me bake cookies.  This is the child that will throw himself into something, just to make the load lighter for whatever sibling was given the job. 

3.  Greg never lies.  Well okay, just to be clear, Greg only lies when protecting his identical twin but other then that, he is the most truthful child I've ever met. 

David

1.  This is our active kid.  It's funny, he's the one that had so much trouble with muscle development from babyhood to toddler hood.   Yet he loves physical activity.  Loves to walk, loves to bike, loves to play outside.  It's a wonderful thing to see.

2.  Dave is the kids most willing to try new things.  He'll eat whatever veggie you throw at him.  He likes his daddy's hot sauce on his Mexican Enchiladas.  Then, after trying something and deciding that he likes it, he'll cheerfully have three helpings while ignoring the moans and groans from the picky *cough* Kate, Ean *cough* eaters in the house.

3.  Dave is the most natural reader in the house.  The thing that makes him a natural reader, isn't really his reading ability, because in first grade, the middle child was a better reader but it's the enthusiasm he's thrown into reading!  He tackles words like a pro wrestler, without fear, diving in and sounding it out.  When he fails, he just keeps plowing forward, without hesitation.  It's pretty darn cool

So there you have it, three good things about all five of my children.  I could easily list more but this post is long enough, not to mention, I have laundry to fold. 

Please Think, before you Stink

I have a problem. 

Some people have to be careful about what they eat.  They have allergies or sensitivities to gluten, nuts, milk or shellfish.  Some are life threatening, essentially isolating the individual that must be careful with every morsel of food that crosses their lips and in extreme cases, the residue of food on skin, wrappers, counters, or any surface someone else may have unintentionally contaminated.

It's isolating.  Restaurants, visiting family, casual get togethers at the bowling alley can become a huge nightmare in logistics.

Well I don't have a food allergy but the isolating factor, I'm understanding a little bit more.  You see, I am allergic to scents. 

I've always been sensitive, strong perfumes bothered me when I was a teenager but most things, scented candles, lightly scented powder, strong smelling lotion, I could deal with without too many problems.  Over the years, that's changed.  I've had increasingly difficult times when strong scents are present.

A decade ago, I noticed how hard it was to be in the waiting room at the dentist with the constantly burning scented candle.  As the years have gone by, my symptoms have increasingly gotten worse.  Mostly I get headaches, stabbing pain in the back of my head but occasionally strong scents set off my asthma, which is what happened last night.

I slipped into a small, unventilated room packed full of women, at least half dressed as if for church and the scent was exceptionally strong. 

Church in general has become increasingly difficult for me.  I often have to leave the meeting, switch seats mid meeting or if someone sits near me that smells particularly strong, right before the meeting starts.  If my headache is really bad or my chest feels heavy, we'll leave early. 

I hate that.  I hate missing meetings, sitting in the foyer by myself, missing out on the fellowship and teaching that happens in the classroom.  I hate missing Sacrament meeting, the "meat" of our three hour Sunday block. 

I do what I can, but there's a general apathy to my problem.  I've been told "But I just don't feel dressed up without putting perfume on for Sunday."  When my husband has tried to bring up my allergy to individuals that could make a difference, they make jokes about "marinating in perfume."  In general, I get an "Oh that's too bad." but it ends there.  The most empathy I get, are those that are kind enough to let me know before I get too close, so their scents don't rub off on me. 

Last night was a church activity, specifically for women with lots of folks bringing guests.  I shouldn't have been surprised.  I should have been more prepared and been smarter.

I arrived late, having a cub scout activity I brought the boys too, so I missed the dinner.  Usually they continue the spiritual presentation in the cultural hall and clean up afterwards but they did things differently this year, having all the Sisters move in the (dreaded, small, unventilated) Relief Society room and that's where I found everyone, apparently half way through the program.

I wanted to stay.

My chest got heavy.

I tried to relax.

I said a prayer.

My breathing go more labored.

My mistakes.  I tried staying, my desire to stay was so incredibly strong.  I needed that fellowship.  I needed the spirit that was there but it was making me incredibly sick, far sicker then usual.  My second mistake, it's been so long, literally years since I've had an actual asthma attack, I didn't have my inhaler in my purse. 

Oh it was embarrassing.  It was awkward.  I was trying not to cry and because of this, and the labored nature of my breathing, I'm pretty sure some individuals thought I was overtaken with emotion, caught up in what was said. 

That wasn't the case, the tears that slid from my eyes were tears of frustration that I couldn't control something so basic, that I don't even know if I can attend a meeting until I get there and see how strong the perfumes and aftershaves are.

I was incredibly lucky my neighbor let me use her inhaler. 

If this continues to get worse, I wonder if I'll be able to attend church at all.  It really makes me sad. 

More Parenting Challenges

We have one child that has proven to be consistently challenging.  My husband is convinced the reason the Lord sent us the twins so closely after him is because if he'd gotten any older and we'd realized what we had on our hands, there's no way we would have had more children.

I have to say, I agree.

This kid was nineteen months when the twins were born.  He was already a bit of a handful, always climbing onto everything, loved to see how stuff felt and dumping?   You've never seen a kid dump like this kid.  Food, milk, eggs, soap, oil, pasta, flour, sugar, basically if it was in a container, it was his personal mission to make sure it ended up on the floor.  Or carpet, counters, toilet seat, it really didn't matter.  He wasn't to choosy where he dumped.

We found out not to soon before his second birthday that he was extremely behind in his speech.  I was already on the lookout for autism red flags since we have such a high rate of autism in our extended (and immediate) family.  So I was right on the speech delays.  Turns out little mook had his ears full of gunk.  He never complained, never cried, never said or did anything to indicate a problem but it was persistent, even with a few rounds of antibiotics.   So he ended up with tubes.

The ENT said that the "fluid" in his ears wasn't actually fluid, it was a sticky goo that had to be scraped out.  his tubes were put in by his second birthday and he started speech shortly after that.

0f course he had to make everything difficult.  His tubes fell out six months after they were first put in and then they fell out again before he turned four.  He had three sets of tubes total put in.

When he was in Early Intervention, there were times when he just screamed during the whole class time.  The teacher called them "Red Headed Days" and handled them by ignoring him.  She had my support, I knew that when he melt down, there was no reasoning with him and that if you interacted with him, he'd take his frustrations out on you.

He was in Head Start the following year and we were blessed with an incredible teacher that had the patience of a Saint.  His class was afternoon, from noon to four, riding the bus on the way and with me picking him up on the way home.

The twins were still bitty and the middle child often had meltdowns going out the door, leaving me with three screaming children and only two arms.  There was a kind teacher that often helped me carry children out to my car.

At that age we readily saw his impulse issues.  He had to touch everyone.  He also did this odd thing with making noises and hand movement at the same time.  He'd skim his hand up the back of your head while chirping, twenty times in a row.  BeYOND aggravating.  Needless to say, relationships with other kids were tough.  They're still tough.  Boundaries and limits are still struggles for him.

Then there's his temper.  Remember those toddler tantrums I've talked about?  As he's aged, they've morphed from tantrums into fits of rage including lashing out at others physically.  Last summer was very rough at our house.

So here we are now.  The kid has been diagnosed officially with anger problems and ADHD NOS.  The ADHD is basically the new labeling for the ADD diagnosis.  It's the same diagnosis our oldest has.  At the beginning of the school year, he started therapy specifically for his anger.  He's seeing the same therapist the oldest saw for her anxiety.  I strongly felt this therapist was worth waiting for and wait we did, over that long and tedious summer but it's proven to be worth the wait.

So where are we now?  There's still loads of problems and I've spent many a good afternoon sobbing out of sheer frustration and exhaustion in dealing with the middle child.  We've been blessed with a wonderful teacher that has worked with us through the first couple of shaky months at school to put a system in place to motivate the middle child in controlling himself at school.  We now use the "Smiley System", where the day is divided into two sections, before and after lunch with the potential to earn a smiley in each section.  Each smiley is worth a half hour of computer time and a week of smileys earn computer time for the weekend.  We've still had half a dozen incidences of harassing, touching and/or hitting other kids over the school year.

The school was a champ, giving him a few chances to get his act together and the last few times, he's had increasingly serious consequences.

I don't know what motivates him but last week, he pushed the envelope as far as he could and touched two girls where their breasts are.

The school told the in house police officer, the kid has lost recess until after school break (that's a month folks) and the boom has been lowered at our house.

It's personal space boot camp at our house.  Absolutely nothing is tolerated.  Not standing to close, not running and head butting me, not poking our little brother to make him miserable.  Now this wasn't really tolerated before, but obviously wasn't making an impact.  Any infraction and he's instantly sent to his room until he can respect personal space again.  Any problems at school and his bedtime is after dinner.

His dad lowered the boom if there are any further phone calls as well.  Some of you may or may not remember when the kid was five and he went on that klepto spree?  He stole left and right over and over again and he figured, as he kept getting caught, he simply needed to learn to lie better.   Yeah, after a month, his room was stripped of every belonging except one blanket and he had to earn his whole room back.  One more call from school and he loses everything in his room.  Everything.  

I also put in the positive goal that he can earn a geode (rock with crystals on the inside) if I don't get anymore calls from school the rest of the year.

Smart alec says "What if I throw up?"

*grumble grumble grumble*

O...KAY....   No calls for discipline reasons or schoolwork reasons.   

Like he didn't know what I meant.

So it's been a hard week.  I haven't talked about it because it's hard to talk about.  I've stated to friends how different the behavior problems are because unlike my girls learning disabilities, people understand those.  Your average person often sees discipline/behavior problems as a problem with parenting.

I can tell you first hand, sometimes it's just not.  As his mother, I can see his potential and it's incredible.  It's just getting him there. 

Today's Appointment

Actually I'm not really posting about my doctor's appointment because it's all personal and not stuff I feel comfortable talking about.  Yes, I just wrote that.  Hard to believe I'd choose not to talk about myself, but there it is, even I have limits. 

So, finally taking care of myself, I marched off to the appointment I had scheduled three weeks ago.  Of course, since this was "girl stuff", there was a brief discussion on my childbearing history.  That was expected however since I had my tubes tied with the twins C-section, there wasn't a whole lot to say. 

I had planned to not even mention the twins pregnancy.  That pregnancy was many things for me, truly the ultimate in emotional highs and lows but since I'm done having children it just wasn't relevant to this exam.  The doctor made a comment about twins, basically what a struggle it can be to have twins and I sat there a minute before disclosing that these guys were a struggle very early on.  

I kept my explanation brief.  Heaven knows I can talk for hours about the nitty gritty details but I curtailed the conversation back to the issues at hand because, lets face it, I wanted to get the exam over and done with.  

At the very end, the doctor brought up the twins again, just to say how amazing it is that they made it.  Now granted, due to his profession, the doctor will, at the very least, be familiar with the syndrome. Still, I found it oddly comforting to have someone understand, understand all the things that could have gone wrong.  Understood all the possible birth defects.  Just understood that it wasn't easy.

That brief two minute conversation was very comforting to me.  It was nice to not have to juggle how much to say, not wanting to overload an acquaintance but at the same time, being bothered by brush off statements that "Twins are usually early" and "You expect a few more complications with twins."

It was very compassionate of this doctor to make the point of recognizing struggles I hadn't even brought up. 

I'd gladly recommend him. 

Sooooo 50% off $120.00 is how much?

It's the end of January.  Even though the weather is still chilly and there's plenty of freezing nights ahead of us still, in the stores, it's time to prepare for the next season.  Simply put, if you're needing gear for next winter, now is the time to buy.

I called my mom, invited her along and off we went, stopping at Fred Meyer first.  Now Fred Meyer can have great sale prices when clearing stuff out but you have to keep in mind that items can start much pricier to start with.  Something of good quality though, just might be worth the higher price, even on sale. 

We came across a lovely coat perfect for Kate.  It was in the woman's section, so no girly pink or purple.  More like a ski jacket, very compact, not bulky in the least with an edgier purple, black and grey plaid fits Kate's maturing style.  The coat hung from a clearly marked rack of 50% off but the original price of $120.00 still kept me grabbing the perfect coat and marching straight to the registers.  My mother being the kind and generous woman she is, offered to put her spare cash in making a payment of $40.00 plus tax more doable for us.

Since there wasn't anything suitable for Ean in the store, off to the checkout we went.  There wasn't a line and we didn't have to wait.  I was fussing with my purse while the coat was rung up and my mom leaned forward and whispered I needed to check the price.  Glancing up to a number rounded up to $78 gave me pause.  I mentioned to the checker that I thought there was a mistake, the coat was clearly on a rack marked 50% off.  She must have been tired because she glanced at the price tag and said "Well it was $120.00."

I stopped a moment.

It's a been a long time since I was in school but I'm pretty sure I can halve $120 and add $4.00 tax and still have less then $78.00

I calmly pointed out the math and the waiting began.  First for a call back from ladies clothes.  Then a gal came up from the back because she had no idea what coat the checker was talking about.  Then she went back again to try to find where it was found. 

In the meantime, the line behind us started stacking up.  A few employees came by to find out why our line was stalled.

I joked at least we hadn't gotten in the express line.

Finally a call to say that the clothing department employee couldn't find where the coat was found, so my mother and I took the coat back to the racks and had to hunt down the woman helping us.  It took maybe five minutes to locate her.

Then there was a call to someone that could look up stock on the computer.  Then a call to someone else and finally a call to the service desk so we could check out with the right price.  In the end, I think mostly to another coat on the rack that was the same brand, same style, we got the 50% off. 

I must say, even with the confusion, I appreciate the obvious effort from the store employees to figure out what was actually going.  It would have been easier to say the price that was rung up, was the proper price.

Kate appreciates her new coat. 

I love when my children show gratitude. 

Dental Drama

Jane gets her braces on February fifth.  So it's coming up.  I had scheduled this cleaning very carefully, a week in advance so we could fit in another appointment if a filling was needed but still really close to the actual application of the braces, so her teeth will be sparkly and ready.

Jane's going for bling and doing gold braces.  She should be absolutely adorable!

I was also able to schedule today's appointment so the teenager wouldn't miss school.  No small feat for the kid that doesn't get out until almost four, Tuesday through Friday but Monday, with it's mandatory early release was the one time we could guarantee getting there on time after school.

Today's Four O'clock appointment was a real score.  This of course made my dismay, not to mention my stress level elevate pretty quickly when the gal behind the desk looked me puzzled and said my daughters appointment was cancelled. 

Uh no.

It wasn't.

I had not received a call about any scheduling problems nor had I called earlier to cancel the appointment.  The last time I heard from that office was a call Friday to remind me about Monday's appointment. 

I almost instantly started to panic.  Normally such a thing just might be an inconvenience but today's appointment wasn't the only one on the line.  I had already rescheduled Jane's band appointment from mid-January and dang it, we needed to get her taken care of.  I'm embarrassed to say I did get a bit snippy, although I did apologize when it was all said and done.

To the receptionist's credit, she squeezed us right in and Jane was taken care of.  She has one cavity and that will be taken care of before the bands are put on.  

All in all, it was more excitement then I needed!  

Sometimes, I'm so DANG Sentimental

I cry. 

I cry easily.

I cry when upset.

I cry when moved.

I cry when amazed.

I'm just a dang, emotional being and there's no shame in that but I do wish I could handle myself without falling to pieces just a bit more.

Today my eyes welled up because of speakers!   In all fairness, not just any speakers.   These babies are special. 

About 17 years ago, after marriage, before children, I was talking to my dad on the phone.  If you haven't figured it out, my dad was a tech junkie.  He loved, and I do mean loved technology.  He loved music, from Mozart to Madonna, loved movies, from Alfred Hitchcock, to Top Gun and pretty much everything in between.  It's not a stretch to see his love of technology filling our home with music and movies.

He had a stereo, hooked to multiple speakers, wired throughout the house.  We could play music, or the movie on TV in the living room, dining room or the kitchen and usually it was all three at once. 

He liked his music loud.  It's no wonder my hearing is bad. 

There was a set of speakers, huge, brown, kick-butt in their day.  I remember them from when I was bitty.  They're heavy too. 

One day my dad decided after years of his old system that it was time to upgrade.  While on the phone, I mentioned in jest that he should send me his old system and he laughed and we said goodbye.  A few days later, he called and told me to keep my eye out for five really boxes from UPS. 

Seriously, I was floored.  I mean, who mails that kind of stuff on a whim??????   Obviously my dad did.

I mentioned to Kent, he might want to refrain from hooking up his stereo in our apartment because my dad was sending his old one and Kent, with a little trepidation, said he'd wait and see before deciding.  When I came home from work a few days after that and it looked like Christmas morning with boxes everywhere and the front room torn apart as Kent excitedly was hooking everything up, I asked the obvious "So I guess there wasn't a choice to make?!"    *laugh*

Kent cheerfully let me know that this was the best UPS delivery of his life!  My dad mailed the old stereo, the two huge speakers, a new CD player, because he figured we probably could use it and a VCR player.  Yup, five huge and heavy boxes. 

My dad was one of the most generous people I've ever known.

Well a few days ago, my husband pulled out a thrift store find, a decent, working stereo that he excitedly hooked up in our front room.  He said he wanted the windows to rattle.

Oh my gosh, he's channeling dad.

He pulled the old speakers, dad's old speakers from the basement and as I turned on music about an hour ago, I felt my eyes fill up as I thought of him and his speakers. 

I miss him. 

Seven Year Old Boys

I was informed by David this afternoon, that I wasn't performing up to expected specs in the mothering department.  Not only was I failing to bake my children cookies, but the cake that was suppose to go with them, didn't exist either.

Had I mentioned cookies or cake.  Was I exuding some weird motherly vibe that made my children instantly believe that baked goods were in their future?  I don't believe so, but I've been wrong before.  Seriously?  This child argued with me for fifteen minutes to let me know that I needed to get a move on the baking!

Then of course, there was the blizzard.  I picked up the boys right after school.  They were already checked into the after school program but there was a bonafide blizzard here in Pocatello and the roads were nasty.  I got off work about a half hour early to pick up kids.  Well Greg, the child that cried for me the first couple of days of  the after school program, cried today because I wasn't letting him stay.

It's nice to know he now likes it.

Maybe today was the day to argue?  When Greg discovered there was no hot chocolate in the cupboard, he debated me for twenty minutes on whether or not I should go to the store.  When I told him I wasn't going, the streets were very slippery, he got a concerned look and asked if the stores were all out of hot chocolate.

Greg often misses the point.  It was still pretty amusing.

Then there was two seven year olds tromping in the house, with snow falling everywhere, my mom is telling them, go stamp your feet outside.  They hear stamp and instantly there's snow flying all over the front room.

And finally there was the two upset boys because one wants school canceled tomorrow and the other doesn't.  Truly life or death debating!

Ah, my boys.  They keep me young. 

Just a few Hours and Christmas is Over

I can't say that Christmas is ever bad, spending time with family, friends, rejoicing in our Savior, it all makes for a good day but sometimes Christmas is exhausting. 

I think part of that is self inflicted.  How much can we cram into those four weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas day.  How many parties, family events, cookies to bake, shopping to do, caroling to sing, school concerts to attend can one family survive?   I'm exhausted just listing it all out.

We had more help this year then previous.  I was amazed at how smoothly dinner plans for today went and how easy and relaxed Christmas eve was with my eager beaver teen and tween elves bringing in all the presents from the garage and putting them under the tree.  They worked their fannies off cleaning too, so the house could be pleasant and enjoyable Christmas morning.

They were invaluable.   Thank you Jane and Kate for making Christmas eve and Christmas day absolutely enjoyable.  I am so proud of the women you are becoming.

My plan on simplifying our gift giving didn't work quite like I wanted.  We still ended up with more then the kids needed but they really had two bigger gifts and then a bunch of smaller things that were mostly collected over the past year.  Books, coloring pads, crayons, pipe cleaners for Kate, that sort of stuff.  Then there was a few desperately needed items that were bought dirt cheap and wrapped for Christmas just because unwrapping is fun!

Each of the boys received a set of Angry bird sheets, we were sorely lacking in twin size sheets.  They also were gifted the thickest, extra large, fuzzy blankets I've ever seen.  Also Angry bird themed. 

I'm thinking I should have picked up one for myself!

The girls each received a much needed pillow.  Costco had twin size, memory foam cluster pillows.  I have loved my memory foam pillows and at $10.00 for two, it was killer price. 

Each child had their favorites.  Kent scored a Sega gaming system that Ean loves.  I think the chance to go and decompress in his room could really help our behavior issues.  Then of course the most excitement was the last two gifts opened.  We saved the twins cranes for last. 

Squeals and shrieks!  It was awesome!

What I really enjoyed was my children going to so much effort for each other.  The girls especially put in an unbelievable amount of effort into every gift they gave.  It was beautiful.  Watching them smile as their gifts were opened. 

I think for me, that was what pushed a good day into a great day.  

Merry Christmas.

The Never Ending Romance

Yesterday my husband and I celebrated our eighteenth wedding anniversary.  Actually, using the word "celebrated" is a bit generous.  Our day consisted of Kent taking the girls to church, while I stayed home with the hacking brothers, after a whole week of one to three boys home from school, they really needed another day off.

Then there was several viewings of "Voyager" by Kent and the girls (daddy, daughter geek bonding).  Boys on and off the computer and I cooked a whole lot of bacon for BLT's, around dinnertime.

I also made the the boys help me clean the front room.  I told them that I was sick too, and if I could do it, they could do it as well.

So it wasn't a really romantic day for us.  That's kind of how our luck has been going lately.  About two months ago, my wonderful husband announced the first Monday of the month we were going to a local Bed and breakfast.  This place has the most lovely themed rooms and I've wanted to go for years.

In 2000, Kent offered to take me, but I was nine months pregnant and declined.  With lots of eye rolling.

Non stop sickness necessitated moving our night to the following Monday.  Even more sickness led to canceling the following week.  We will try again in January, after the non-stop blur of Christmas and birthdays.  It's a teensy bit sad but really, the fact that my husband tried means so much to me.  Points for effort!

Then there's the romance of gift giving.  After my extreme and unreasonable reaction to a simple request to buy a specific tool sold at a store I despise, hubby bought it himself and gave it to me to wrap.  I'm just grateful I don't have shop at the beloved tool store.

What does that say about me?

All this is secondary.  Oh sure, it's nice to go places, it's nice to surprise your spouse but is that really romance? 

I don't think it is.  It's fun.  It's exciting.  But when I think of romance I think of the moments we have together.  Grabbing a few minutes to just talk.  My husband lightly stroking his hand across my shoulder as we discuss, anything and everything.

Marriage isn't easy.  There is no "Happily Ever After".  What's there, is a chance to grow together.  To hopefully become better people together.  Lets face it, no one is perfect and my hubs puts up with a lot from me.  I'm quick to be annoyed, often sarcastic and dang, can I be moody.  Yet we're still giving our overnight another shot in January.

Whether we make it our overnight together or not, I'll still turn off the computer when he enters the room, so we can talk.

When you enjoy talking to each other, when you savor your time together, then, THEN, the romance happens.

Happy Anniversary (and one day) to us!

We're Playing a Guessing Game

Now I have five children.  For simplicity sake, lets number them with a brief description so we're all clear on who's who.

1. The child that would lose her head if it wasn't attached.
2. The child that rightfully earned the title "The Queen of Protest" at eighteen months and still wears her crown proudly.
3. The middle child, with ADHD and impulse issues, has problems interacting with others and is getting processional help. 
4. Velcro boy.  Intensely honest but will quickly change his story to protect his twin, often blaming the middle child even after his twin has confessed.
5. Vecro boy's twin.  He gives hugs and kisses as frequently as he gets in trouble.

So the guessing game...  I get a phone call and one of my children was written up at school.  So which child was it?

Lets see, the first guess would be number three, the middle child.  *buzzer sound*

So sorry, that guess would be wrong.  See, middle boy was already home with his sticky note containing two smiley faces!  A regular occurrence now, things are going much better at school for the middle child.  He's taking control of his behavior, working on not bugging people.  He still has bad days but at least it's not a whole week of bad days like it was at the beginning of the year.

Numbers one and two, why they never have behavior problems at school.  Various meetings for this or that and when behavior is mentioned, everyone laughs because the idea of either of the girls with behavior problems is ludicrous. 

That leaves the twins.   Immediately you consider the stinker, number five.  Nope, not that kid either.

That leaves number four, Mr. Pure Heart, Velcro boy himself,  as the child that was written up today. 

It was situation that was inevitable.  A new student is in the room and this student isn't fluent in English, a second language for him.  Oddly, Velcro boy isn't very good with English either, but his is from a continual language delay that seems to effect his comprehension.  Throw in a relentless desire to not only follow the rules, but to have everyone else follow the rules, something was bound to happen.

There's been a few build up incidents.  The child that doesn't speak English is not doing *vague waving of hands* something, in class, quite the way he should, velcro boy is compelled to correct him.  New kid doesn't speak English very well, Velcro boy doesn't convey his thoughts very well, Vecro boy resorts to physically trying to correct new kid and new kid doesn't appreciate being touched.

Today was the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back and the new kid reacted to Velcro boy by hitting him.  Of course new kid had parents called, but Velcro boy also didn't listen to his teacher who repeatedly has told him to not touch other kids.  So Velcro boy gets written up as well.  Pretty much the consequence was the teacher calling me.

His teacher did say that she thought Velcro boy has finally learned his lesson and finally understands what can happen when you touch people that don't want to be touched.

Lets hope so.

I will admit to giggling when I hung up the phone, grateful my child was guilty of caring and poor judgement rather then something worse, although of course, we talked about this at home too.

Thanksgiving Thoughts

It's a week and then Thanksgiving. 

The big meal. 

The beginning of the end.

Oh sorry, the end of November leads four short weeks into the end of December and while I can't say I "hate" the end of December, I can say it's exhausting and I'm not happy, jump up and down excited about the Christmas season.  There's just a lot going on but I digress.

Thanksgiving!

For a lot of people, it's the food that matters (pigging out!) and while I take great joy in creating appetizing dishes along with making traditional food that we only have a few times a year, the food is really just a vehicle for much more.

I grew up with Holiday meals being extremely important.  You see, the entire experience was filled with family bonding.  There was the baking of bread the day before.  We helped my mom in the kitchen, cutting, stirring, kneading, braiding and shaping. We had carrot cake, sweet bread and a loaf of regular bread as well.

While we worked there was talking and laughing.  My dad would walk in and joke and laugh while we worked but wisely chose to let my mom be in charge.  Not because he had some antiquated idea that woman should be in the kitchen, but because he knew my mother was in a different culinary league, not that he'd ever admit that out loud.

One of the funniest moments ever, was the first year that my mom had to work the night before Thanksgiving.  My dad entrusted me with quite a bit, bread, stuffing, gravy, potatoes but he did not trust me with the turkey.  No matter what I said, he wouldn't allow me to prep the bird.  My mom had a couple of a little racks that she placed under the bird, so the drippings would fall into the pan and the bird wasn't sitting directly in the pan.  I informed my dad how mom did it and he proceeded to do it his own way (thank you very much).

So into the pan without the racks went the turkey.  Dad approved the stuffing and proceeded to stuff the bird, put 'er in the oven and left me to do the rest of dinner.  The house filled with mouth watering aromas.  The table was set, with style.  Holidays were a time for the best, cloth napkins, water goblets for everyone.  A lovely lace tablecloth under it all, making our modest dining room feel like a fancy restaurant. Classical music in the background and my dad's wine bottle set out, properly chilled and ready for dinner, it all set the mood.

It was time to carve the turkey. 

Except, when dad took the two serving forks and lifted the bird out of the roasting pan, the roasting pan went up with the bird.  Dad, preferring to not panic, tried to pry the bird out of the pan. 

That didn't work either and dad seemed to not notice the bemused look on my mother's face.  After several minutes, dad took matters into his own hands.  While sending one of the boys into the basement for a mallet,  dad flipped the broiling pan, bird and all, upside down.  I think we all held our breath as the bird was flipped, waiting to see if gravity would do what Dad could not.

Nope, bird flipped, still adhered to the pan.  So the mallet was brought into play and

BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM

a mere half a dozen whaps later, off came the broiling pan and the bird, laid out on the serving platter, stuffing completely visible in the center as meat and bones, having completely fallen apart, laid there, like some morbid holiday form of art.

There was no carving of the turkey that year. It was already in bite size pieces.

While that kind of belly laughing didn't happen every year, there was still the visiting during the meal.  We would sometimes sit there for a couple of hours, just talking to each other.  There was no rushing to leave the table, hurrying to answer the phone, we were a family and dang it, we were going to talk to each other.  The funny thing, it was something we enjoyed.  I remember watching my dad swirl his wine in his glass, classical music in the background as we discussed everything and anything. 

There was also a sense of unity as we cleaned up.  Now don't get me wrong, as kids, we all grumbled, but as we set into the work, there was a sense of accomplishment as the disaster we created was divided and conquered.  Piles of dishes disappeared, all hand washed.  Dad's wine glass and the goblets from dinner were carefully washed, dried and put away.  The pots and pans scrubbed, all was put away again.  Food was saved to snack on for days afterwards and it was all done together. 

For me, that is what is magical about Holiday dinners.  Thanksgiving, Christmas day, Easter Sunday, all are an opportunity to connect to each other.  Having my mom here really helps as well, Christmas day and Easter Sunday are always at her house.  Pieces of my childhood are brought forth as cloth napkins are set at the table and talking plays a major roll during our meal.  It's not the marathon talk sessions of my youth but for my husband who use to eat and run, it's a step in the right direction towards the family unity I remember as a child.

I hope my children appreciate the chance to be together as much as I do.

Angels Among Us

An alternate title would be, kind people still exist or the stranger that helped me out but those don't have the same pizazz as the title "Angels Among Us".  So I'll go with my first thought.

Now the first question might be, what kind of bind was I in and how did I get into that bind?   Simple, I let Ean unlock the suburban and he clicked the latch to unlock all the doors, accidentally locked the open door, tossed my keys onto my seat and slammed the door shut so he could go in the back door.  He's opened the door tons of times and usually climbs in, plays with the knobs, adjust my mirrors so I can see sky instead of the lanes behind me and then climbs in back.

No, this time he decided to be responsible, grown up even and was going to use the rear door to get into the back.  Seriously, I can't fault him for that. 

The girls were at home alone, not a big worry, they're old enough.  The worst that could happen was Kate forgetting to clean out the cat's litter box.

The twins were a different story, see they are now in the after school program Monday through Thursday from the end of school until 5:00pm.  There's a fifteen minute window for pick-ups, so I had until 5:15pm or bad things would happen. 

I don't remember exactly what those bad things are, even though I did sign a form saying I understood all those bad things.  In general, I figure it's best to just avoid finding out, so since Ean's counseling appointment ends at 5:00pm, I was in a bit of a hurry.

So, in slow motion, I see Ean, click the lock on the car door.  I look through the window and see Ean toss my keys into the front seat and then notice his door is actually locked. 

Uh Oh.

SLAM GOES THE DOOR.

Now, while I was in the waiting room, I had a lovely conversation with a woman, I'd never actually met but I knew her daughter.  Her daughter is autistic and they attend the same Ward as my mother.  Recognizing the little girl, I introduced myself, let her know Scott is my brother and we had a wonderful conversation connecting on all kinds of levels. 

When I came back in, she let me use her phone.  You know, because I still don't have a cell phone, but that's another topic.  And then she looked at me, as I confirmed with my husband that the twins needed to be picked up right now, not in 20 minutes (you know, after 5:15 when BAD things happen) and this acquaintance with great friend potential offered to give me a lift.

She drove us to the school and then drove us home, bless her heart she was more then willing to drive me back to our car, but I knew I could get it later with Kent. 

I really need to bake her something and have my mom deliver it to her, for me. 

Of course the girls were fine, completely oblivious to my troubles and yeah, someone forgot to clean her litter box. 

Poor kitty cat.

Oh My, How SWEET!

Or not.

So at church, David was drawing a picture.  He went into great detail, drawing people, drawing a temple, and writing lots of words on it.  Stuff like

I love followed by a list of names.  Some of which he couldn't remember and we couldn't read by the time we came home. 

I love the temple.

I love church.

Tons of love on that paper.  Of course it was a long meeting.  So he had lots of time with one sheet of paper and he put a lot of thought into it.  So when the meeting was over, he ran down the length of the pew, excitedly telling us about his picture.

"Look, look, the bad guys came"

Oh, that's who the new guys in masks next to the temple are.

"And they had DYNAMITE"

Uh oh.....

"AND IT BLEW EVERYTHING UP!!!!!"  

Did I mention it was a long meeting? 

It was seriously better then the survey he was taking during the meeting to find out who liked his picture.  Which was fine on our pew, but when he started yelling two pews back to the Sisters he knows from Primary, I had to put a stop to it.  I will say this.

He takes pride in his work, even when he changes his entire theme, in less then an hour.

Interesting Discussion with my Teenager

In Utah and in Idaho, kids can take a period out of their high school day for an off campus religious course called release time seminary.  My oldest has loved it so far and the kids take a very active part of the course including doing what is called a "devotional" which is a spiritual message to share with the class.

The teenager was telling me about a recent devotional which stresses the importance of being an individual and not letting other people change who you are.  Then she looked at me and asked "Why are you and dad always trying to change me?"

Whoa.

Well that opened a door for some serious dialog. 

Here's a beautiful, smart teenager that doesn't understand social skills.  It was a light bulb moment for me in understanding her confusion on what we, as her parents see as valuable help.  So I let her know that we weren't trying to change who she really is, but sometimes in some situations, you need to act a certain way and that's what we're trying to help her with.

We talked a bit and I strongly suspect that we'll be having this conversation again because it is hard to understand.  I mean, when you truly don't have that innate sense of social cues, when you laugh to hard in the wrong places, when it's been a struggle to even understand how to take turns in a conversation and how to stay on topic, how do you understand something so abstract?

She has come so far and I don't think she even realizes how far she's come.  I think that might be part of the problem in understanding this.  Not knowing how socially awkward she's been, she doesn't have anything to compare herself too.

I do need to make sure we keep a balance.  I need to let her know when she's done something especially well just as much as I need to correct behavior that is socially unacceptable.

Social skills are so hard to define too.  Oh sure you can explain what people do and don't do but you can't explain why things are a certain way.  I wonder if that is part of our misunderstanding today.   Of course this still doesn't help me in explaining this all to my daughter.

So in true fashion, I cut to the chase.  I reminded her that I like to hang around in my underwear, but I certainly don't go to the library like that.

I think it did the trick.

Family Home Evening

I admit, I'm not the originator of the idea I used last night but it worked out pretty well.  Jane first told me about it from a story in her New Era (LDS magazine aimed towards teens).

First we sat everyone down, had a song, picked by Greg.

We pretty much sing "I am a Child of God" at the beginning of every family home evening and last night was no different.  Then we had a prayer. 

And then starting with Jane I asked if we were making Brownies, what would be put in them?  Well ingredients started flying...

Chocolate
Eggs
Flour
Gummy worms...

?

Yes, Greg had to suggest gummy worms, the secret ingredient to every brownie recipe.  Of course David had to then suggest gummy bears, the second best ingredient to a great brownie recipe.

Now I briefly asked Kent before hand to think out of the box, he had no idea what I was going to do.  But he caught on and suggested hot peppers.  The twins were both repelled and intrigued by the thought of hot peppers in brownies. 

We then had a lively discussion on what it takes to make a successful pan of brownies, the key component being a

*list of things that have nothing to do baking* until we reached recipes.

Then we had a comparison to real life and suggestions on what exists here on earth that is a recipe for life.  This was a little like pulling teeth but we finally were able to pull out "scriptures, Latter day Prophet, church leaders, prayer" and we talked about how God has given us these things so we can know how to be happier, so our lives can be better.

Now the original story had the mom making the recipe as her family was telling her what to put in, but I'd hate to waste perfectly good food in the kitchen just to make a  point.   When I had to struggle so much last month to stretch my grocery money, I wasn't wasting anything but I do think the kids understood what I was saying and they had fun.

Of course the lesson was completed with perfect brownies for snack.  You know, showing what happens when you follow the recipe.

Making Costco Work for You

It's easy to spend a whole lot of money at Costco.  Costco is set up, so you will spend money.  It is a business and business's exist to fill a need.  Your need.  Don't ever forget that.

I watched a documentary on Costco and they talked about where money is really made.  They confirmed that very little profit is actually made on food.  Of course if you're buying everything on your grocery list there, sheer quantity will drive your budget through the roof..  Plus there's fabulous produce, if you can eat it all and the extras, those things that make you squeal and impulse buy, the true source of profit for Costco.  So here we go, this mother's tips on how to make shopping at Costco work for you.

1. Get to know your store, know the brands, know what you normally use, know what works in your family, be familiar with what's there.  This helps you from being overwhelmed and having those, oh my gosh, I spent a couple hundred more then I meant to, moments.

2. Once you have a running list of what you use, brands you're familiar with, make sure you check out the coupons on every mailing.  Then make a list of what you normally use that's on sale.  Some of the rebates are instant, some require a coupon, but you have to write it all down so you can keep track.

Most of the coupons and rebates happen on a fairly regular basis, there are items you can always purchase on sale, if you check every flyer for sales.  A lot of household products you may get on sale at least half the time or more.  The savings really add up.

3. When you have your list, stick to it.  Yes samples are fun, my husband loves them but samples are the way to fuel impulse buying.  If you're running a strict budget, you cannot fall prey to impulse buys.  So if you must sample, remember your grocery lists is your key to staying in budget.

4. No matter what the savings, it's not a savings if you have to throw most of something away.  So tread lightly when buying perishables.  I buy perishables I can freeze, sandwich meat, chicken breasts, wholly guacamole single snack sizes. I buy some produce but only stuff I know my family will eat before it goes bad.  Also think of sizes, the apples are wonderful but it's not cost effective for me to buy a dozen huge apples when little apples from another store are most cost effective for my family.

You will make mistakes and stuff will get thrown out but learn.  I only buy the huge spring mix of salad in the summer when my family will eat salad as a meal.  Otherwise, it's just me and it's way to much. 

5. If you have a neighbor, family or friend that you can split produce with, do so!  It's a great way to alleviate the problem of stuff going bad.

6. If distance between the store and home isn't an issue, step away from impulse buy and take a few hours,  or a few days if you can and see if there's money in your budget to buy it.  I like to walk through the Christmas stuff half a dozen different times before deciding what to buy.

If distance is an issue, have a dollar figure in your head before hand so you already know what you can spend on extras, do a walk through the fun stuff, then do your regular shopping and then go back and look again.  This helps take the impulse out of your buy and gives you a time to think if it's really something that's needed and/or if it's worth the cost with whatever budget constraints you may have..

My trip today, armed with my list of instant rebates of our normal needs plus my coupons and my overall list led to enough savings, the cashier gasped after scanning my coupons.  With some preparation, anyone can have a good Costco trip. 

Some Days are Uber Productive

Days you dig in and really accomplish something.  Then there are days like today.

Oh I got a lot done.  Piddly ante stuff that you can't even tell, unless I list it to you.  There was running a few loads of laundry, hanging up Kent's shirts, folding towels and dishtowels, running to Walmart so I could spend my last little bit of money on groceries to finish the month, cleaning up the papers around my desk, filling out a check for Jane's fundraiser, activating my new credit card.

Wait.

Where is my new credit card?  I saw it yesterday.  Kent handed it to me.  What have I done today?

In my mind, I tick through the list and in a light bulb moment I remember cleaning the papers off my desk and putting them in the kitchen garbage.  In my head I'm pretty sure I wouldn't do something like that, but what I'm pretty sure I'd do and what actually happened are usually two instances that are at odds with each other.

Sure enough, after flipping through multiple layers of papers carefully set across the muck that was a days worth of kitchen garbage.  Another item accomplished.

Then there was the paperwork I had to fill out.  You see, I didn't sub last year.  Alternating day kindergarten was not conducive to being available for subbing.  I only had two bonifide free days a week and I made the choice to stay home.  I didn't regret that choice, I kept myself from burning out and was emotionally there for my kindergartners on their off days.

What I didn't know was that the school district would toss my information and that the following year I'd have to start over.  Of course I didn't know this until after I actually subbed this year and tried to get paid.

The school district only does hiring one day a week at 3:30pm, so off I went and promptly I figured out I was lacking one of the two required forms of ID.  Actually it's pretty silly, they only accept things like a passport, drivers license, social security card.  But that meant I needed to drive home and get another form of ID.

Just a little more time to whittle away day.

It all was finished and now I can say, yes, I will finally get that paycheck for the three whole days I've worked.

Then it was picking up the twins from school,  getting some semblance of dinner ready, fielding requests from multiple friends....

"Can David play?"
"Can Ean come outside?"
"Could Kate spend the night on Friday?"
"Could I come over early to spend time with Jane?"

And all the responses.

"No, we're having dinner."
"Let me check if Jane is done with her homework, oh she is? Yes you can come over early."
"No, we're having dinner."
"Kate *whisper* Remember, you're already having a sleepover this weekend."
"Noooooo, WE ARE HAVING DINNER!"

You get the picture.

The end result, I feel tired, exhausted almost but not very accomplished.  However all my children are accounted for, there's a bunch of junky little things I don't have to deal with and we've established that I do love my children.

Even if I wouldn't let them go outside with friends when I was putting dinner on the table.

My Grandmother's Cast Iron

I was discussing with my husband that we need some more cast iron in our kitchen.  We currently have two frying pans, one huge and another a bit less huge. 

This morning Kent was cleaning the storage room and he pulled up some cast iron that was just sitting on the shelf.  One was a smaller frying pan, extremely useful and the other is more like a dutch, but the lid has a handle that mirrors the two quart cooking part.  This unique two piece cast iron brought back a flood of memories because it use to belong to my grandmother. 

I didn't really know my grandmother very well.  She was a quiet woman, plagued with health problems that would eventually take her life.  I only remember meeting her a few times as a child and by the time I moved to Utah, she was bed ridden and conversations were almost non existent, it was incredibly hard for her to speak.

At that time my grandfather was extremely loud, very opinionated and during visits he not only monopolized what was discussed but he was a bit of a bully if you said something he disagreed with.  Over time I was able to develop a relationship with my grandfather and break into the extremely tough outer shell but it wasn't easy.  He could be a complete butt.

I think the moment it clicked for us, was when I finally turned around and told him that I loved him but if he wasn't going to be nice, I was going to leave and I'd come back when he could be nice.

He turned and grinned at me and said it was about time that I stood up for myself.  Now I really didn't appreciate that I had to endure months of verbal abuse before this and I had to physically stop myself from rolling my eyes at him but it did open a door for a relationship.

He wasn't ever as bad after that, although he still relished being a pain in the arse. 

Announcing my engagement, he was thrilled, so pleased with my fiance, thrilled to have a relationship with me and as a result he put more thought into a wedding present then I had ever seen him do for anyone.  My grandmother's silver was in a dilapidated wood box, just falling to pieces.  He found someone to rebuild and refinish that box.

It was beautiful.

It's not a complete set of silver.  There are pieces missing but the thought and effort that he put into this gift meant the world to me.  He also gave me my grandmother's cast iron.  My mom and her sister RoseAnn told me about the memories of their mother cooking with that cast iron.  RoseAnn explained that the reason the lid was cracked was because her mom used it as a frying pan, which of course it wasn't made for.

For almost eighteen years this cast iron has been stashed away.  Every now and then, I would see it, smile and then continue on my way.  Somehow it didn't feel right to use and I wondered if I would ruin the already compromised lid.  It was enough for me to just have it.  A piece of my mother's childhood, a few short years where I fought to build a relationship with a man that I wasn't sure wanted a relationship with me.

As I've spent the day, walking past the dust encrusted cast iron, I've realized that I was mistaken.  So tomorrow, I will scrub it out, lightly season the inside and place it where I can use it, every day.

And then, when I pull it out and cook for my family, I can smile and remember the man that thought of me and proudly called me his granddaughter on my wedding day.  I can remember the look of nostalgia as my aunt described her mother, my grandmother making dinner for their family.

Most important, I will tell my children.  These memories won't mean anything if I don't pass them on.  I can't let the meaning end with me.