Showing posts from August, 2011


Update: Two more!

How did I know that six brides wore it? I found six pictures:

How did I find out about the others? I asked...

This was when the hands started to go up.

traditions that bind

Aunt Mae had her mother buy it. The woman was 84 years old and Mae insisted that her mother meet with the antique of a stranger and see what she had. Aunt Mae’s daughter, Patsy, was getting married. She was the first. Patsy wore it. All three beautiful O’Connor girls wore it. Carol when she became a Franklin, Dot when she became a Stearns, and Ann when she became a Haltom. Three of the four Brennan girls. Mama, Rosie, and Helen.  Helen & Barbra wore it. They were both Haltoms.  Trellise & Pat cannot remember if she wore it, but I think she did. Tina & Terry Hunt both wore it when they married. Marti wore it. Susie wore it when she married Helen’s only child. Helen Wheeler wore it as she became a Cole. She also wore “the dress” -- but that’s another story. Jane wore it at Sacred Heart Cathedral when she married Griggs. Erin wore it, Patsy’s granddaughter.  One of my cousins wore it before we lost it amongst the 185 family members.  The other day, I found it. After seeing this cross pop up…

And the Rain Came

To say we are close is not accurate. We are tied to each other in a propitiously wonderful and sibling-ly sort of way. Every once in a while, there is a jingle on the phone- usually with Brother doing the dialing- and within 10 minutes I am out the door, in the car, and we are on our way.  My most favorite was between my senior year of high school and freshman year of college. Brother called Sister in Augusta. Within fifteen minutes, a plan was hatched, a bag was packed, and my little Miata was zooming up I-20 to pick him up on our way to the lake to see our aunt and cousins. The music was as loud as it could get, the top was down, and we could not get up the Blue Ridge mountains fast enough. He would say the most obvious of statements that were, somehow, beyond funny. “No windows.” Nope. No windows. “No roof.” Nope. No roof. “No backseat.” Nope. No backseat. “Hit me with some Allman Bros.”  You got it. “Drop the hammer.” You got it. Another trip led us from the fair Athens to Augusta for Christma…

It's a good thing she is short

If An-ew tried hard enough, I bet those kisses he showers LMC with could cure all sorts of incurable things. After the falling out of bed episode, surely... SURELY nothing like that could happen at the museum the next day. For Pete's sake, it is an area designed for small children. There is padding on the walls, no steps, and lots of carpet.

After lunch, where LMC traded her french fries for An-Ew's water we relocated back to the play area. Hopping around playing with magnets and prisms, a little girl came up to us and asked, "May I please borrow a rhombus?"

A what?


Oh, yeah, sure- we've been calling it a diamond. MAN- these city kids are S-M-R-T.

An-Ew shows LMC how to drop the ball down the hole to the maze. LMC shows An-Ew how to scream at the top of her lungs. An-Ew shows LMC how to throw out the trash. LMC shows An-Ew how to escape Ma-Mee. An-Ew shows LMC that he is the elder of the two, "EYE-YEEN! KAY-GULL! STOP! EYE-YEEN! KAY-GULL! STOP!" in…

Two Things.

I am thankful for two things: (1) that Husband is not home right now. If he were, he would be doing the infamous "Told Ya So" dance. (The second being that he does not read my blog)

The prompting of the Big Girl Bed was 100% all mine. I plotted, planned, and negotiated with Husband until he finally relented, with one caveat: the bed stays on the lowest rung. No problem!

But, the bed skirt was too low. The bed did not look "just right." The rails were too high and the aesthetics of it all would be a whole heck of a lot better if it were moved up just one short inch. Okay, two. Those two inches would make all the difference. He had the very best argument that a Pediatric Father could have.... what if she falls off the bed?

"She's a big girl! She won't fall off!" (Seriously? I remember falling out of the bed. And, no, you goobers- it was NOT in college. I was a kid. At least she has a carpet, we had hardwoods and I had a very tall bed- way taller tha…

Evolution of prayers

Bless us, oh Lord and these Thy gifts which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, through Christ, our Lord. Amen

Besses, ORd dese geeefts (mumble) boot to sieve from Woody through donkey, ORd. AMEN!

An email to Husband

Subject: The questions begs.

Why did I buy my wife a 2005 Chevy Tahoe when she was pregnant? Why didn't I buy her a 2009 Tahoe for 3 times the price?

Oh... that's right... we were going to be moving to DC (and didn't know it) and her normally slightly below par driving skills would be put to the test in this God forsaken town with all of the OTHER below par drivers. AND, since she goes days and days without driving, she gets rustier and rustier. While her road rage is gone, and her patience has increased ten fold with other bad drivers, the give and take of this give and take town leaves something to be desired.
So, a new question begs.... why am I getting this email?
Don't beat me up, I feel bad enough about it already. I really do. And am already trying to figure out how to pay for it. Let's start here:
But, why …

And I thought teething was bad.

What have I gotten myself into? Today is THE DAY. It's the day we start our farewell to diapers and our hello to Big Girl Panties. (which leads to learning that life ain't fair and she'll just have to deal with some things)

Yesterday, she ...planted a daisy... with much success (and screaming) and ... made water.... (Look, Ma-Mee... LODER! I lick?) in the designated proper place. This morning, we found.... a daisy... in her diaper and knew that today was the day. THE DAY. The timer has been set, the rules set, and the game started. Every success was cheered and every accident was (figuratively.... and a little literally) swept under the rug.
Twenty minutes... a chime from the timer.... a success... a goldfish. A new twenty minutes... a new chime... a new success... a new goldfish.
Stretching to thirty minutes... Mom ran to the restroom (all this talk about warm water, making water, etc. made mom have to go!) and quickly returned to find LMC saying, "Look Ma-Mee, Loder…

To be the president...

Husband is on transport for these two weeks. Today, we made a risk & went to eat at Good Stuff... which is... no lie... some good stuff. See that chair behind LMC? That's where Prez Obama was eating last week. While he might not know what to do about the budget, he makes up for this with his decisions about "where to eat lunch"

On our walk home, the streets started to get cut off by cops. Everyone had on sunglasses and the head cop kept screaming, "GET OUT OF THE STREET!" "STAY ON THE CURB." So, we stayed out of the street & on the curb.

Finally, a cop came by...

Then the head cop came back around...

Then a bike cop...

then another (he's on the far left)...

Then another bike cop...

And another (the main cop is  yelling at someone who, apparently got off the sidewalk)...

And another (main cop giving the evil eye to someone who was thinking about stepping off the curb)...

and another bike cop...

And another...

another.... (I am really wonde…

It was a big day for the big girl

We've talked about it.
We've thought about it.
We talked to LMC, each other, and decided it was time.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow will be the day.
Another tomorrow came and went.

Finally, it was time. No turning back. We want to celebrate her growing up, not be sad. So, we asked LMC what she wanted and she said.


So, off it came.

It was a big day. AND, the most important thing is she stayed in bed all night! HOORAY!