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Saturday, September 30, 2006

Play date

Garett and Grace were here yesterday. It went well and we got lots of playing done! :o)
They are 20 months old now and each very independent.
As soon as they came in the door, the kittens took cover. Grace spent a good part of the day stalking Tucker, and was saying his name pretty clearly by the time she left. At one point I found her pulling his tail to get him out from under the furniture.
We got out Jessi's Little Tykes dollhouse and she was in Heaven. Furniture and people and a little car to drive around. Doesn't get much better than that. :o)
Garett mostly ignored the kittens, choosing instead to amuse himself with pouring the cat food in his lap, then running his fingers through it. Tactile experience, yes, but smelly. I'm just thankful he didn't eat it!
He also took all the pillows off the couch and used them to cushion his diving practice on the floor. Then he thought my tossing pillows on top of him was the best fun! :o)
Oh, and there were a few photos around that had Randy in them. Grace was always amazed to see him and would point and say "Daddy!". I'd say, "Yes, there's Daddy." Until she pointed to the antique print of Jesus on the dining room wall and said, "Daddy!". Okay, I was laughing too hard to answer her.

Friday, September 29, 2006

Please don't eat the daisies...

Tucker just loves the daisies. He was all over me while I was trimming them up. Then, he'd sneak onto the dining room table and inch his way over to the vase. I'd head over to get him, and he'd snatch a flower petal, jump down, and run away.
I moved the vase onto the kitchen counter and he jumps up there now. Argh!
See the photo frame on the counter? Yeah, it's broken. He was chasing a fly and jumped off the table to catch it and knocked a bunch of pictures down.
Yesterday I had to shut him in the bathroom while we had supper - he really wanted a fajita!
He's a naughty kitty. Greg calls him "the bad one". I feel like the mom in the "NO, David" books. He's going to think his name is "No, Tucker"...

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Monday, September 25, 2006

Age ain't nothin' but a number

Randy had his 40th birthday on the 15th, but we didn't get to celebrate until yesterday when Alan and Angela could be here. The photo is one of Randy's presents, though we have yet to determine who will wear them... :o)

Friday, September 22, 2006


Yes, I am one of "those" people who have been waiting. Waiting to see if Izzy really quit. Waiting to see if George loves Callie. Waiting to see who Meredith chose. Waiting to see what happened to the panties.
I was not disappointed. I laughed, I cried. I've never liked Addison - ever - and I felt awful for her. My heart broke when Bailey tried to get to Omar to comfort him, and when she apologized to Denny, I wanted to sob. Izzy lying on the bathroom floor in her prom dress, grieving and angry. And when Christina climbed in bed with Burke and started to cry, that just did it.
I'm not sure about the Mer/Der/Finn thing. I can't see her with Finn at all. I've been mad at Derek ever since he chose Addison, yet kept Meredith hoping, so I'm not sure he deserves to have her.
Okay, I sound like a lunatic - it's a TV show. But I can't help myself. I am an addict.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

another Birthday!

The weekend of sadness and hormones is over and now it's time to celebrate!

Today is Caleb's 18th birthday!

Happy Birthday, Nephew Caleb!!

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Birth day

Today would have been her 62nd birthday. I miss her.
I wish she could see how great my kids grew up, and how wonderful my marriage turned out to be. I wish she could know the rest of her grandkids - how intelligent and funny and loving they all are. I wish we could have seen her grow old - white hair and wrinkles, being a Grandma and Great Grandma.

I am glad for all she taught me - how to cook (she really said to me, "A GOOD wife will never serve a TV dinner to her family for supper!" - little did she know I'd marry a man who LOVES TV dinners!), how to keep a home clean and welcoming, sing songs to comfort and entertain, instill independence in my kids, and how to love my family.

Happy Birthday, Mom.

Sunday, September 03, 2006

What makes a family?

I finally got my college books at the end of this week, so tonight during the slow time at the theater, I got started reading in my Home, School, and Community textbook. The first chapter deals with defining what a family is and I found it very interesting. The "Ozzie and Harriet" family of the 50's never really existed. It seems that between 1890 and the late 1940's, the divorce rate in the U.S. was climbing. After WW II ended, women left their jobs and went home to have babies - thus the "baby boomers" (of which Greg and I are in the tail-end). After they had five or six children in as many years, women had to depend on marriage to survive economically. Those TV families were a fantasy, an unrealistic depiction of American life. A frustratingly unattainable goal.
Then the book asks us to draw a picture of our "ideal" family, and a picture of our actual family and compare. In my case, they'd be the same picture. You see, we have what is considered the "ideal family" in America. Two parents, two kids, boy older than girl. How did we do that? :o)
Thinking back to my childhood, my "ideal" family would look pretty much the way it was. Two parents, five kids, loads of aunts, uncles, and cousins, and all of my grandparents.
Were we the "ideal" American family? Lord, NO! :o) But who they were, made us who we are. Made us strive to be educated, adventuresome, respectful, and open-minded. Showed us how to work hard to support our families, love our babies, and treasure our family above all others. They maybe didn't teach us these things consciously, or with great finesse, and there are some significant things I wish could have been different, but they were what they were, and each generation tries to do better.
Can we ask more than that? That each generation tries to do better? They make us proud, and thankful that we have such a rich family heritage to pass on to them. . .