The Story of Grandma's "flab"

Today is or maybe I am supposed to say was my grandfather's birthday. My grandpa was the kind of man whose presence could be felt in a room before you ever saw him standing there. He loved my grandmother with every fiber of his being, to the depths of his soul. If I had to pick one word to describe my grandpa, it would be jolly. He was always whistling, or doing the cha-cha-cha, he would dance this little jig and he would say cha-cha-cha. Grandpa was an incredible storyteller and he made the best garlic dressing in the world. I remember he always smelled like garlic and Ben-Gay and every time I smell either it makes me smile from the inside out. He liked to get on to us grand kids every now and then and put us to work. We lived either next door to my grandparents, or with my grandparents for most of my life, when I was growing up. I remember grandpa would walk over to our house on Saturday morning and our wake up call was grandpa saying rather loudly "Larrie Ellen ain't ya got something these girls can do?" My mother's name is Laurie but her family is from West Virginia so "her people" pronounce it Lar-rie.

We really scored in the grandparent department. My cousins and I were blessed to have the type of grandparents most kids dream of. Nearly every single happy memory from my childhood is related in one way or another to my grandparents. We have had some real amazing belly laughs. In honor of my grandpa, I wanted to share a story. There are so many good ones, and I am truly giggling at all the things going around in my head. I think I will tell a story about grandma, but it really is more about my older sister.

When were were little my sister Tracy did something we have never let her live down. Tracy, my cousin Katie and I were goofing around. We used to giggle about Grandma's arm flab. We were just kids, I was probably 8 or 9. Back then we thought Grandma was so old, and she had little old lady arm "wings." Tracy takes some kool-aid powder and she puts about a tablespoon or so in a baggie. She twists it so that it is super tight and she says "Look this is my arm flab." and then she takes the baggie and makes it really loose so the powder gets caught in the wrinkles of the baggie and then she says "Look, this is Grandma's arm flab." We laughed so hard we weren't sure if we were going to cry or pee.

Now the best part of this story is that when I retell it, in front of my grandma, to this very day she will say "Tracy Lynn" and if my sister is within arms reach grandma pops her one...now that my friends is good stuff. I have gotten so many miles out of this story. When we gather at the holidays if Tracy is being rotten as only sisters can be all I have to do is say...Hey Grandma. Tracy's response is always "KIM! You better not."

I am glad grandma has no idea how to access the Internet because after I shared this story with the free world...Tracy might not be the only one getting popped.

Donuts, Ribs and Merry-go-rounds

I am listening to Taylor Swift against my will as my office is right next to Charli's bedroom. I secretly wish we had invested in one of those high tech baby monitors, so I could see if she is singing into her hair brush in front of the mirror. There are pictures all over my office of Charli in various stages of cuteness, pre-tweenzilla. She would almost always smile willingly for pictures back then...now she smirks in utter exasperation.


There is a family picture of us when she was three, that hangs on the wall above my filing cabinet. Mark looks amazing. Charli and I are wearing these really pretty turquoise outfits. We almost look like those mothers and daughters from the catalog advertisements of the super happy families, with their creepy matchy-matchy clothes. I have no idea what I was thinking! If you look really close you can see my eyes are red and puffy. This was the first family picture we had taken after my Dad passed. It was the most horrible day. We had buried him on October 4, 2006 and that picture was taken at the end of October that same year. The picture was taken for the church bulletin and we had a few group photos with my mom, sister, and my grandma. I refused to buy one of those pictures. The day we went to view them I actually had to excuse myself from the table because I had a major meltdown. My body racked with sobs and I couldn't catch my breath. The sales lady was going on and on about how nice the pictures were and blah, blah, blah. I wanted to smack her upside the head. I know it wasn't very "christian like" to feel that way but I know my Ten Commandments and thou shalt not lie is one of them. It isn't really that I dislike the picture. In fact I find it pretty funny, because Mark and I are looking directly at the camera and Charli is looking off to the side laughing at my sister who was trying to get her to laugh but Tracy wasn't standing behind the camera, so Charli is looking off to the side. The picture hangs in my office but out of my line of sight. I have been thinking a lot about my dad and my mind has been a merry-go-round.

My friend Patty is pregnant and she is craving donuts tonight of all things. You see, poor Patty has been ill with morning, noon and night sickness. I can so relate. I remember all to well what that was like. Patty and her donuts got me thinking about my dad and his ribs.

I was very sick when I was carrying Charli and I would throw up on average 20 times a day. I am serious ( I counted every day for about a week because I was curious) and I promise I am not lying for dramatic effect. I was incredibly ill. When I was about 5 1/2 months pregnant or so, we went out to my parents on a Friday night for dinner. My Dad told my mom to find out what I wanted for dinner before we came out. He wouldn't say much to me about it but he was starting to get worried because aside from the baby bump I was losing weight and I couldn't keep anything down. I told Mom to tell Dad I wanted ribs. My Dad could grill with the best of 'em. His ribs were out of this world. I ate, and I ate and I ATE some more. My parents were sure I was going to be sicker than I had ever been. You want to know something? I never threw up once after dinner that night or the next day. The morning, noon, night, and every second in between sickness started to subside. There is one thing I find very uncanny. When I was pregnant, orange juice made me sick as a dog. Charli doesn't drink orange juice except maybe a sip or 2 a few times a year, because as she says "I'm not a fan", which she says about a lot of things these days. The child however loves bar-b-que ribs. She can put them away like a grown man. It is quite impressive, though everything in moderation, so she doesn't get to indulge often.

My advice to Patty was to eat the donuts. Hopefully, she can keep them down and if her precious blessing grows up to own a Krisy Kreme franchise or become CEO of Dunkin' Donuts...well at least there will be free donuts for Sunday service. :)

Tweenzilla

I am sitting here in my office with a glass of red wine, a well deserved glass of red wine I might add, and I am finally feeling my nerves start to calm. I had great plans this labor day weekend and even though many of my friends took off to the beach or enjoyed some R&R, I was planning on laboring around the house this weekend. What I had in mind and what I ended up doing are two very different things.

I have been wanting to paint Charli's room for years but haven't made time to do it. The truth is Mark hates to paint almost as much as he hates to do yard work, which he does do but he is never excited about it. Anyway Charli's room is still the beautiful shade of Bo Peep yellow that I had chosen for her nursery. It is the most perfect shade of yellow and I adore it...Charli however does not. When I woke up Saturday morning I was ready to take Charli to shop for a completely new comforter set and then take her to the local hardware store and buy paint samples and paint boards so we could try the color out on her wall, at various times during the day to see which looked best. The birds were singing, it was going to be a great day. I opened the door to Charli's bedroom and my heart sank. I was furious. Her bedroom was a disaster. I have spent the better part of the past two days of my life in my daughter's room. There was yelling, screaming, and I am pretty sure I threw a few things. I get that it wasn't very adult behavior but I was mad, and whether I counted to ten or ten thousand it wasn't going to make a difference. I had bought Charli a few new dresses, one that she really wanted but I wasn't that crazy about it. The dress that she just had to have was laying on her floor. Her entire floor was covered with clothes and her dresser drawers were completly empty.

I am going to be brutally honest here. My room was seldom clean when I was a kid. At one point three of us shared a room. I have shared a room most of my life. Charli has never had to share a room with anyone. I am not a neat freak by any means. In fact my office right now looks like a war zone with spools of ribbon as the weapon of choice. It isn't messy though...it's creative genius at work and you can see 85...well ok maybe 75% of the floor because the rest is covered in various bins, and boxes of ribbon. It is organized chaos. Charli's room was just gross and nearly 2 weeks away from possibly being Hoarders worthy. Okay that might have been a slight exaggeration but still...

I have been asking myself how in the world did this happen? When did my sweet, precious toddler with her chubby cheeks and toothy grin, who replied yes Mommy to my every request to pick up her toys, turn into this...unappreciative, selective hearing, bordering on defiant, messy to the extreme tweenzilla?! Charli is a great kid. She is funny, sweet, compassionate, and very fashionable. She is her own person and has never been afraid to own it. Charli doesn't lie...she confesses her sins like a catholic school girl. Things I don't even know she has done she will just spew it all out like someone slipped truth serum into her water. I just don't understand it. I felt so disrespected this weekend. I know we are just going though a phase, and perhaps her messy room might be the least of it as we approach her teen years. Who knows maybe this is our fault...mine and Mark's. Charli has never been required to make her bed or to do any chores really. She has to walk her dog and give him water but that is it. She has to keep her stuff together for school, and gather her uniforms but she really has no real responsibilities, other than putting away her clothes, which obviously she does not. I get that she is only 9 but I had more responsibility than she does when I was her age. Raising a kid today is very different. They grow up so much faster and I realize that perhaps we need to start making some changes. I love her with every fiber of my being and I am so blessed to be her mother. We have always said that she is our gift from God and how we raise her is our gift back to Him. We are her parents and not her friends, not at this point in her life. Maybe I should try that speech my mom used to give us... "As long as you live under my roof, and put your feet under my table and I put clothes on your back, you will do what I tell you to do!" It sounds powerful huh LOL... I think I will mull it over while I sip my red wine.

Squirrel

There are some days I feel as though my life is a circus, and instead of being the ring master, I am the tight rope walker. Being a mom requires the ability to balance several things at once but being a working mom makes it that much harder. Mark and I are very settled into our roles as husband and wife and Mom and Dad. There are things that are Mark's job and things that are my job. Mark takes out the trash (eww), walks the dogs (they walk me), fixes the cars (Once I turned off the car engine to check the oil but pulled the transmission dipstick instead), mows the grass (It's not my thing), does dinner dishes (because I cook dinner), and cleans up after anything that spews; be it a 2 legged or 4 legged being. I do the grocery shopping, clothes shopping, (Mark hasn't bought his own underoos in over 14 years), plan all family getaways(to ensure we don't stay in a pay by the hour joint), menu plan and cook dinner (it's safer that way) and I handle anything and everything that has to do with Charli; from doctor visits, dental and orthodontist appointments,parent-teacher conferences, and all paperwork that has anything to do with Charli. It was impossible for me to be in two places at once this morning, so Mark took Charli to her 8AM orthodontist appointment. Before he left this morning I gave him a piece of paper to send in with Charli to the guidance office so she would be excused for her early check out from when she went to the orthodontist last week. Mark takes Charli to Dr. P and gives the sweet gal at the front desk the slip of paper to excuse Charli's absence. I don't think the lady at the check in desk carries that kind of power with the school district. I am not sure how he got "Please give the slip of paper excusing Charli's early checkout from the orthodontist, to the random lady sitting at the orthodontist check in desk upon your arrival." when I actually said "Send it into school with Charli so she can take it to the guidance office." I asked Mark if he got the "ticket stub" print out with her appointment time next week, and he said yes. I asked if he detached the half to send into the school so Charli would have an excused tardy and he said yes. I asked if he gave Charli the other slip to excuse her from last week and he says "The girl from the orthodontist office never gave it back to me." ??? Seriously??? He forgot that but went on and on about how cool Dr. P's office was, and the big screen and the movie theater seating. I think sometimes Mark must have that...I know I need to pay attention to what my wife says, squirrel thing going on. In the grand scheme of things it is not a big deal. I just thought it was rather funny. There is one thing for sure...on the days I feel like I am the tight rope walker I am certainly blessed to have my amazing husband as my safety net to catch me if I should lose my balance. He even went ahead and made Charli's orthodontist appointment for next week at 8AM. (She has to go once a week for the next four weeks to have her RPE (aka rapid pallet expander or mid evil torture device)progress checked. He assumed that since her appointment this week was at 8AM it would be fine for next week. I didn't bother to explain 8AM was the time they had open for this week but normally I would want it for after school so we don't use a semesters worth of tardies in the first month of school. I just called Dr. P's office and changed her appointment. I love being a wife and a mom...there is never a dull moment :D

Never doubt a Girl Scout!

It's an exciting right of passage, the very first...first day of school.  This year for us it was all the excitement times two.  My niece and nephew started kindergarten this past Wednesday.  My phone was close by because I had given my sister strict instructions to text me pictures of the kiddos, or else she was going to be in big trouble!  We couldn't wait to hear all their tales from their first adventure in school.  Charli and I made the drive out to my mom's Friday after school to see the family and visit my sister and the kids.

Charli, Alyssa and Nicky are tight as ticks.  There is nearly 5 years between Tracy's twins and my daughter.  The little ones really look up to Charli.  While we were visiting, Charli decided she and the twins were going to go on an adventure in the great outdoors.  We adults just played along and laid down a few ground rules.  Charli packed their backpack and off they went to slay dragons, or rescue animals caught in imaginary traps. A little while later, with red faces, the three amigos came trudging back inside because they were hot.  Charli began to empty the backpack.  On to my mother's living room floor she dumped 2 applesauce cups, spoons for the applesauce, 3 granola bars, a roll of toilet paper, a box of band-aids and a bottle of water.  We all giggled and Charli went on to explain why each was needed. The toilet paper was needed to wipe the blood off in case they got cut on a stick and band-aids to keep the cut from getting infected. She only packed two applesauce cups because she "isn't a fan of applesauce", and she was rationing the water.  I was so proud of my little girl scout. 

Girls Scouts has been wonderful for Charli.  We have an amazing group of girls and most of them have known each other since preschool.  I am so proud to be a part of such a wonderful troop, and that Charli is learning the skills to help her prepare for all lifes adventures...the real ones and the imaginary ones too.

And so it begins...

School is back in session, and in a few weeks the dog days of summer will be but a distant memory.  We will all be running carpools, sitting in car lines, heading off to various sport practices and after school activities.  We will be up to our eyeballs dealing with our children as they deal with their homework.  I will probably spend more time in my car than a New York City cab driver. Chaos will rein once again.  I kind of like the chaos, because one day it will be calm and quiet.  There won't be school supplies to buy, lunches to pack, or homework to over see.  One day this chapter of parenting will be over and a new one will begin.  Let us relish in the chaos, because it won't last forever. 

A Memory Making Birthday...

I sit here typing this blog post on the eve of my 35th birthday.  I was thinking back over my most memorable birthdays and one comes to mind more than any other...at the time it seemed disastrous but it has brought me much laughter since then.

The year was 2002...I was 5 & 1/2 months pregnant with Charli.  Mark wanted to surprise me with a weekend getaway for my 25th birthday.  Mark spent hours on line looking up hotels and had used a booking site that I had used several times before.  The pictures boasted great rooms and ocean views.  It all seemed so perfectly Kimmi approved, according to Mark.  We packed our bags, loaded up the car and headed for a weekend getaway, possibly our last one before we became parents.  We kept our eyes peeled for "The New Frontier Lodge."

We didn't have a GPS back then but Mark has an uncanny sense of direction.  He never gets lost...he takes detours and finds new routes.  We arrived at our destination and it was certainly unlike any other "frontier" I had ever saw before.  The outside seemed almost harmless enough.  We checked in and we were given a key.  It was a real key not a plastic card but an actual key.  There was a sign attached to the counter that read "No refund after check in."  I was feeling very apprehensive but it was too late now, we had just checked in.  We walked in the direction of our room when we saw another room with it's door open.  There room didn't have a floor just dirt and a huge hole plenty big enough for Alice and all her Wonderland friends to fall into.  I put on my brave face because Mark had worked so hard and it was the first time he had gone to so much trouble, to pull off something of such magnitude.

We unlocked the door to our room and this is what we found:

• A television with knobs from circa 1979.  There wasn't a remote.
• The tile was sandy.
• The mattress dipped so that if you laid on the bed you rolled to the center.
• The tiny bathroom lacked light and had a broken towel rack.

Mark had packed a blanket for the beach (which we had used earlier that day) so we shook it out and laid it on the bed.  There was no way any part of my body was going to come into contact with that mattress.  Poor Mark felt horrible and I didn't want to make him feel worse.  The next morning Mark had planned a fun filled day at Daytona USA, complete with speedway tour via open tram. I was certain Mark would find it all very interesting.

The sky looked a little dark as we took our seats on the crowded tram but we were living in the moment.  The thunder clapped, the lighting lit up the sky and over half way though the tour the sky busted open and birthed a torrential downpour.  We were soaked to the bone and I was freezing.  Mark and I called it a day.  We went back to the our room to change clothes.  I went in the bathroom, dumped the puddles of water out of my bra and put on dry clothes.  Mark and I looked at each other, decided we had had enough, and it was time to get out of Dodge.  I am pretty certain the "New Frontier" was either someones final frontier complete with chalk outline or it was a pay by the hour joint.  It was memorable, I will give you that, and now you all know why I have planned every vacation and weekend getaway for the last 10 years.