Sunday, August 28, 2011

pictures

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.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

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 on so many wedding pictures, I tracked it down. Patsy had it. After Mae’s mother died, Mae had it. When Mae died, Patsy kept it safe. We are in the middle of a family reunion and Patsy promised me she would bring the Brennan Family Cross.
And she did.
After the blessing of our lunch, I made an announcement that Patsy brought the cross and Brittany was wearing it. 
“It’s been on at least 6 brides that I know of,” was the conclusion to my statement. Then, someone said, “I wore it.”
A hand was raised, and then another... and another.... and another.... all these women of this family raised their hands and said, “I wore it.”
Mae’s oldest son, openly wept and Patsy’s hand went to her heart. Another of her sons said, “Oh, Mother is looking down on us right now and smiling seeing what a great thing she has done.”



Sunday, August 21, 2011

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 Christmas break. We played the alphabet game. It was ruthless. Brad was driving as he thinks that I am one step above a 13 year old behind the wheel (with present experiences, he’s right) and I was the hawk-eye. We were neck-and-neck finding words. He had Athens before I could get Atlanta, two different Bulldogs led him to Clarke and me to County. After his Pickens caught up to my Place... we were stuck. 
Where was a damn “Q”? Twenty minutes passed, the rain started up, and the sun was setting. Nothing. No “Q” was in sight.... to this day, I have no memory what other words were on the carved wooden parks sign- but, by God, QUIET was on there. We both scream at the same time, “QUIET!” “QUIET!” “I SAW IT FIRST!” “JINX!” You’d think we were 6 years old, sitting in the backseat instead of traveling down I-20 home from college. A fit of giggles and I have no idea who won.
We have always piled in the car, cranked the music, and dropped the hammer with hardly a plan developed.
Yesterday, a plan was hatched. An adventure to surprise the parents for a birthday developed. Brother picked up Sister from the airport with a brother and sister in the back seat. Sister put niece next to the little brother and sister, piled in the front seat and hooked up the iPod. Same music 10 years later. Same rain. Same I-20. New seating arrangements. New backseat.

Friday, August 19, 2011

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?


That.... 


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 that perfect big brother mimicking a mom voice. 


Then, LMC spotted a boat. We made our way to it- An-Ew was off building a tower on a balancing table. She steps in the boat. I step in the boat. 


Boat? Da-Dee boat?


No, honey- this is not Daddy's boat. See this, though? That's fiberglass. He's building a boat like this-- with fiberglass. Can you say fiberglass? 


fie-lass.


Good enough. Yep, he takes strips of fiberglass and coats them with epoxy on the shell he built back in Augusta... (fade out: why I feel compelled to tell our two year old how Husband is building the GD boat is beyond me. But she sits interested in what I have to say, so I proceed to tell her about the epoxy, marine grade this, and where he will get the wiring from. We are, BTW... sitting in a canoe. A very far cry from Husband's power boat. fade in:) and then we will christen it the S.S. Lucy!


WOW!


She starts swinging her feet, and I pull out my iPhone to snap a picture for Husband... when she fell 


flat
on
her
back


She was sitting on a rail (I should have registered that) and when she started swinging her legs, her balance went this way and she went to the one place that lacked carpet but certainly had a hard ass bottom. She wound up, the parents looked at the poor child, she let loose and could not be quelled....


until...


Hey, An-Ew... LMC bonked her head.
Oh no! 
Yeah, I know. She's asking for a kiss from you, do you think you could kiss her... right... here....
YEAH!


A sweet kiss. Her hand to her face and through her tears, she said, "Dank Ew."


Home for a nap, LMC was awakened by Da-Dee:



H- Good morning little lady.
B- Head bonk.
H- What?
B- Head bonk in boat. An-Ew kiss.
H- Did you bonk your head?
B- [A nod]
B- Head bonk in boat. Ouchie.
H- Does it still hurt?
B- [A nod]
H- What were you doing when you bonked your head?
B- playing with An-Ew. An-Ew kiss bonk head.
H- Did the kiss make you feel better?
B- [a nod]
B- fun an-ew play.
H- Really?
B- An-Ew kiss bonk head. better.
H- Well, that's good you have a friend like an-ew to kiss your bonk head.
B- yeahhhhhh


Let's hope for fewer Bonk Heads in the coming days!

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 than her four inches. Digress...) My chest arrogantly bowed out as I proudly stated this.

((oh, you senior mothers know where this is going...))

He raised the bed. I bought bedding. And fluffy little girl pillows. And arranged the UNmonogrammed pillows as some people might think that I can go overboard with the monograms. Stuffed animals placed... the picture of toddler perfection.

All this leads me to today & why I am thankful that Husband is not here & that he does not read my blog.

45 minutes into her nap, 38 minutes into me feverishly working on two renewals, there came an ear splitting scream behind her double doors. To go in or not... Choosing to ere on the side of safety, she was not in her bed. She was, however, on the floor next to her bed laying where the pillows should have been- where Husband reminds me to put them- where, for the first time, I forgot.

Ouch.

"Hurt Cheek." Fell out bed. Fell out bed, ma-mee? Ouchie. Cheek.



Saturday, August 13, 2011

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!

Friday, August 12, 2011

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 is my wife sending me a link to MIRROR GLASS PLUS? Hmm... this can't be good....



So... the next question is... HOW IN THE WORLD DID THIS HAPPEN? (there might be a four letter word that I am leaving out) I ran into the side of the bus. NO, really. I did. At least, I think I did. I'm not really sure. One minute I was driving down Penn (lost) and the next my mirror is smashed into the side of the car. My rearview mirror (not broken) only showed a car in the left lane & a bus on the curb. 

Still love me? (and a little thankful, albeit hacked, that we have a beast for a truck?)

We should really hire a chauffeur.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

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! HA HA! I jump? I lick! I lick loder." 

NO! NO! NO! We don't lick this loder. No jumping in loder. Come on, back to the potty. 
The timer had 18 minutes left. (Why her obsession with licking any and everything is beyond me)

I google how to clean ...water... out of our oriental rugs. She sits. I scrub (with cold water first and then a solution of 1 part dish detergent & 3 parts cold water... followed by cold water- make a note, moms). I scoop her up and put on pair o' panties Numero Deux. The timer was reset for 20 minutes.

Her legs were crossed. I should have known. I. Should. Have. Known.

LMC-- let's go to the bathroom.
No.
Do you have to go? (surely not, she's tinkled her brains out and it is not even 10am yet)
No.
Okay.... legs still crossed. Uncrossed. Crossed. A little dance to the music. And then, there it was... water...

WAIT!

I scoop. I run. I'm covered. Panties tossed only to discover that daisies can be found in a variety of places. I clean the floor. I scrub the floor. I scour the floor. The bathroom rug gets tossed in the tub for scrubbing then the washer for washing. From the far end of our 1056 to the near end- 409and paper towels. 

"What doin' Ma-Mee?" She asks from her throne.
Oh, honey- potty training is so much fun! I'm cleaning because there just aren't enough hours in the day. Can you believe that? 
"YEAH!" She claps. I, internally, sigh.

While she sits, I return to the place of the crime and remove everything from the rug. After a second scrubbing in the second spot, it gets folded on top of itself until it is safe from water. The second rug gets rolled to the side. Towels under my feet & a squirt bottle of disinfectant as my sword, the water is defeated.

Twenty minutes on the timer. Clothes shucked. She runs and is curious about this new birthday suit she is donning (naked time is not something we normally schedule for our daughter.) and starts pointing... to, well, anyway... 

The timer chimes. She cries. NO TT-po... [daisy] potty. I scoop. I run. I replace the princess on her thrown. She cries louder. No TT! NO TT! And then, there was a memory--  that horrible slumber party trick from childhood... warm water, a hand, remember? Yeah, we did that. Twice over 45 minutes. And it worked like a champ.

Loder? I lick loder? 
No honey, this is not the water that you lick.

She's down for an (early) nap & Husband texted wife to ask how potty training was going...

"She's napping and I am thinking about drinking."

No response as of yet.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

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 wondering if it is cheaper for Prez to travel by Helicopter or Motorcade)

AND ANOTHER....


Ohhh, a little change up, a cop car...

The start of the motorcade...

It's much more like a tank and much less like a limo...

The second tan...er... limo...

Bye bye Mr. President!

There he goes!

Hi Secret Service!


Hi again more Secret Service...

Bye Secret Service!

Communications detail...

Somebody thought about stepping off the curb...

More Communications dispatch... (seriously, it has to be cheaper to chopper somewhere)

More cops...

I don't know what this was, but it looked impressive...

More of the main cop... just in case you did not see him in the other 20 pictures!

Woah, more Secret Service...

Bye Secret Service!

Hi & Bye EMT!


More cop cars...
And another one...


That guy got the finger shaking from the main cop...

 
And... another cop...


That was not LMC's first motorcade experience, but it was definitely our first so close! :)


Tuesday, August 9, 2011

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.

OFF!

So, off it came.


Look at that smirk!

OHHH!!! Big Girl Bed!


She loves it & we had to pull her out of the bed for supper!

She was quite proud of herself

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