The One Where Everybody Died

Last week was rough.

On Saturday, a relative of SOB's died from complications of a brain aneurysm. He was young, and it was sudden. Sam had just golfed in his first family golf tournament, and we were out celebrating with all of the men in my family when I got the call from SOB's sister. We quickly head home, but decided to wait and tell the kids later, since we had my big family reunion the next day and didn't want to dampen their moods.

The next afternoon we headed to the picnic, and when we got home we explained to the older kids what had happened. They were upset, but since they didn't know the deceased too well (he lived on the west coast, so we only saw him once or twice a year) they didn't take it too badly.

Around 9pm that night, the phone rang.

My grandfather, who has been on hospice care since my grandmother passed away in September of 2012, died during the evening. He had been doing pretty well for a while, but took a turn for the worse early last week. All of his sons were in town for the family reunion, so he got a chance to see them all, and he even managed to hang on until after the family picnic was over. We were all impressed.

When the kids woke up on Monday and I had to tell them that Grandpap D. died, only 12 hours after telling them about SOB's relative, it didn't go over so well. Sam was particularly upset, and Maggie just kept asking who was going to die next. We took the kids to the funeral home for the viewing on Tuesday, and they got to say their goodbyes. For the past 20 years he's been nearly deaf, so the kids always shouted when they spoke to him. It took a lot of reminders for them to keep from shouting at his body in the casket. Lucy, of course, had to touch him and tell everyone how cold he was. Sam cried a lot.

His history has some dark spots, as most do, but he was still my grandfather, my childrens' great-grandfather. It seemed that his kindness increased with each new generation of children. 

On my last birthday, he gave me a card and he drew a picture of himself on the front. When I was little he used to take out his partial dentures out to entertain me, and he drew his smile with missing teeth. I put it with the last card I got from my grandma. 

So far, this week has been better. Nobody has died. Let's hope it stays that way. 

The Beanie Boo Infestation

Have you ever heard of a beanie boo? If not, read no further, and run for the hills. I don't want to be responsible for spreading this madness. 

On Fred's last birthday, his godparents got him a little stuffed tiger with big, shiny green eyes. Fred was (and is) deeply invested in the PBS program Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood, and they thought he would like it. However, since it wasn't Daniel himself, it was cast into the toy box without a second thought.

Fast forward a few months, and Lucy was invited to a birthday party. At the end of the soiree, all of the children were given a small plush toy with big, sparkly eyes as a party favor. Lucy's was a little giraffe, light pink with darker pink spots and purple hooves. This teeny toy came with a tag identifying it as a baby giraffe named Twigs. 

As soon as she got home and showed Maggie, a light bulb went off over Magoo's head and she dug around in various toy boxes until she found Fred's discarded tiger. His tag had long since been removed, so she named him Tigey. Soon enough, Twigs and Tigey were inseparable. The girls set up a small ikea tent in their room which became their home. They got married. They ate meals with us. They took baths (because they got covered in syrup at mealtime) and Maggie even attempted to give Tigey a haircut, which resulted in me having to perform heart surgery on the tiny tiger.

Naturally, the boys got jealous and began demanding beanie boos of their own. So off to amazon I headed, where I purchased Fred a multicolored unicorn named Wishful and Sam a blue cheetah named Leona. We didn't even have them for 24 hours before Wishful became hopelessly lost. In a strange fit of maternal insanity, I went back to amazon and ordered Fred a replacement Wishful, along with a raccoon named Rocky, an elephant named Ellie, a zebra named Zig Zag and a chihuahua named Cancun, which was re-named Canon Ball by Maggie. Then, on a random trip to Michael's craft store, I saw a bin of turtles named Zippy on sale, and  grabbed one in a total impulse buy move. 

Leona, Tigey, Rocky, Ellie, Twigs, Wishful, Canon Ball, Zippy and Zig Zag

This whole situation is, true facts, my own fault. I should have stopped after one per child, but I didn't, and now my life is consumed with beanie boo madness. Maggie NEVER puts her down. Even when she is using the toilet. Fred continues to lose his, and then throws hysterical fits until they are found. Sam just hoards his in his bedroom, which is infuriating to his sisters, because they think all of the beanie boos want to play together. And Lucy continues to try and give Twigs and Ellie baths and haircuts. All of our scissors are on lock down. Yesterday I had to confiscate all of them for a little decontamination from the steam cycle on our dryer. Luckily, everyone came out looking normal, and smelling much better.

Next week we will be living with relatives, and all of the kids are younger than Fred. If all NINE beanie boos make the trip with us, I'm predicting at least three won't make it home.

I can already hear the screaming.

Summertime Insanity

So, yeah. I have/had this blog thing, but updating it has gotten a little, well, difficult. Summer should be for relaxing, but most years it seems even more hectic than the school year. Mostly because the schedule is so much more inconsistent. So far this year, we've had 1 week of art camp for 3 kids, 1 week of hockey camp for 1 kid, and 1 week of golf camp for 2 kids. We have another week of hockey camp coming up, a week of vacation, a week of gymnastics camp for the girls, and a week of lego camp for Sam. Plus I have 9 chickens to tend to and a garden full of tomato fungus, cabbage worms and japanese beetles.

RIP Big Boi and Andre 300. Roosters who crow gotta go

It doesn't sound like much, but them I'm working like crazy, and occasionally trying to use the damn pool in the backyard! 

Plus holidays...

And museum trips...

And legos, legos everywhere! 

It's been fun, but very, very busy. Luckily, next summer I'm carting the kids off to France, and we won't be able to afford to do anything but relax! 

What I Did On My Summer Vacation by Amy Jo

I know it seems silly to be recapping my summer vacation when the season only properly began a few days ago, but trust me we've already crammed an entire summer's worth of stuff in! At the time of my last posting, the big children were just wrapping up school. We got them home just in time to ditch the boys with their grandparents and whisk the girls away to Hilton Head for a few days. It was non-stop beach going, swimming, sandcastle building fun.

We got home early Tuesday afternoon, said hello to the boys, got cleaned up and headed out for a fun filled night at the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra, featuring Ben Folds. We were exhausted, but it was amazing!

We slept like a ton of bricks that night, got up Wednesday, and got straight to work. SOB was off the rest of the week, and we had many projects to tackle. We planted EIGHT MORE SHRUBS (we've been kind of on a shrub planting tear around here), we spread 8 yards of mulch inside the garden and around the new shrubs, we pulled up all of the carpeting in the basement and on the stairs leading there, then SOB fixed the sub floor down there in anticipation of our brand new carpet that was supposed to be installed yesterday but still isn't here, we bought new couches, we mowed and weed whacked many blades of grass, harvested many peas, cleaned out the entire garage, and SOB (with the help of my dad) built me an amazingly awesome new chicken coop out of reclaimed doors from this very house that we live in! 

The little chickens aren't so little anymore, and keeping them in the garage was keeping the garage very filthy. Now they can all live happily outside! 

(Related: do you know anyone who might want a few roosters?) 

Oh, and I also shot a wedding all day Saturday, with the help of my lovely and talented new assistant, my sister-in-law Tori!

Then first thing Monday morning, I dropped three kids off at camp and headed to court for the very first time in my life! It was nerve-wracking, even though I knew the outcome mattered nil. I just had to make an appearance so that one of many bureaucratic boxes could be checked off. 

Today Sam is off on an amazing adventure, and I'm all super mixed emotion-y about him growing up and having experience on his own, but that's another post for another day. I'm stuck here waiting (still) for the afore mentioned carpet to arrive and be installed for a little bit longer before camp pick up. If the sun stays out maybe we'll go swimming tonight. 

Summer, you're pretty bitchin' so far.

Love and Marriage

Nearly 12 years ago SOB and I got married. I pretty much knew when I was 17 that it was going down like that, but we were respectable and waited until we were 23 and 24. It was a fun day, but not without it's faults. At the time, I had a lot of anxiety, and the medication I was taking made me quite zombie-like. When I look back on our wedding photos, all I see is a girl with a blank, vaguely pleasant looking face on. Good, but not great. See below for an example, plus a photo of all of my lovely bridesmaids! 

Additionally, and this may ruffle a few feather so consider yourself warned, there was a large part of me that wasn't too thrilled with our catholic wedding ceremony. At the time I was recently graduated from a Jesuit university, but for years I had been having doubts about the faith in which I was raised. I just wasn't sure what I believed in anymore. I knew, however, that I believed in this relationship with SOB, and so it didn't matter to me where we got married. 

As time went on, though, I really began to think more and more about catholicism, and religion in general. I spent the better part of a decade thinking about it. I spoke with clergy, the priest who married us in fact, about my ambivalence towards religion. I spoke with therapists. I spoke with friends. I spoke with family. I spoke with the man to whom I had committed my life. Finally, after many, many years of literal soul searching, I finally came to the realization that I was an atheist. 

SOB had kind of been there all along, just waiting for me to catch up. He never once tried to sway me to the "dark side", but there I ended up just the same. 

A few months ago, by some serendipitous chance of fate, in the two minutes I get alone in the car I heard Penn Jillette on the radio. He was talking about a crowd funding project that he had going on, and as soon as I got home I checked it out. Scrolling through the list of items, I noticed that one of the things up for grabs was to have Penn marry you, or renew your vows. Now you may or may not know this, but Mr. Jillette, besides from being an amazing magician, is also quite the outspoken atheist. Having watched his show Bullshit, having heard various interviews with him, and having read several of his books (two of which are titled God, No! and Every Day Is An Atheist Holiday!) we were fully aware of his godless slant, so to speak. We thought, what a perfect way to renew our vows and shed the shadow of the religious ceremony that had shrouded our union for more than a decade! 40 minutes later it was a done deal.

After a few months of planning and scheduling, the event finally went off this past weekend, and it was everything we could have ever hoped it would be. Thanks to his beautiful and gracious wife Emily, we have a short video of the ceremony. If you are sensitive to swearing or atheism in general, please don't watch. I won't be offend. You might be, though. 

Once before, I have stood with you before family and friends; once again, I take your hand as my partner. I believe in this marriage more strongly than ever. We have evolved and transformed together. We have endured together, laughed together. We are raising a beautiful family together. It is with joy born of experience and trust that I commit myself once again to you.  The best is yet to be.

Signs and Signals

The other day an email popped up in the inbox from some parenting website. In the past 8 years I've ended up on a lot of those, and usually I just dump them right into the trash, but they top article caught my eye. 10 Signs Your Child May Have Asperger's Syndrome. I clicked on the link and started reading, and was saying 'yep' after each point in regards to my little Lulu.

1. Fixation on one activity? Just take a look around her room at all of the homemade musical instruments she made out of recycling and yarn for the answer to that one.

2. Little professor speech? HA! Just ask any adult who has ever spoken to her, or go and scroll through my Facebook posts and read her quotes that I've posted. Remember her Valentine's? Her vocabulary is astounding, and includes several made up words that sound the part. Emphatic yes to this point.

3. Difficulty reading social cues? Lucy hugs every person she knows, even if it is painfully obvious that the person on the receiving end of the hug doesn't like it. We have been coaching her on this and kissing for years, and she still has troubles with it. Luckily, the kissing part is more under control, but she will tell people, 'I wish you were a part of my family so that I could kiss you on the lips.' So, yeah.

4. Need for routine? This one is killer for me, because with 4 kids and a husband with a wonky schedule, keeping a regular routine is tough. We try to keep bedtime regular, but when we screw that up she suffers dearly, and so does her teacher the next day. YES.

5. Emotional meltdowns? Lucy's tantrums are epic, and often sparked by something insignificant. Maggie wants to play house instead of vet. Sam took the red twisty straw and she got the yellow one. Fred touched her fluffy unicorn. I asked her to do homework. The fact that she's 6 1/2 makes these even more ludicrous. Yes, yes, yes.

6. Lack of empathy? This was the only one that wasn't an obvious yes. Lucy displays tons of empathy at times, but none at other times. It's a little perplexing to me.

7. Can't understand speech subtleties? Do you know how many times a day I have to ask her to look at my face and listen to how my words sound, so that I can try and clue her in on how I'm feeling about things? Dear jebus yes.

8. Unusual body language? Again, hahahahahaha! Lucy is constantly moving through space as though some weird, triply music is playing in her head. At piano, she moves like Stevie Wonder, even when she's only playing Twinkle Twinkle. The child was made for a career in interpretive dance.

9. Delayed motor development? This was the only hard no on this quiz. Lucy has always been pretty advanced with both gross and fine motor skills. Bike riding, ice skating, chopstick using, you name it!

10. Sensory sensitivities? Holy hell yes. Lucy has a horrible time participating in rug time at school because the texture of the rug is so appealing to her she can't concentrate on anything else. If her teacher puts her in a chair she's devastated because she wants to sit on the beloved rug. She's been keeping a cotton ball as a pet for weeks because she loves the way he feels. She eats many foods with glee, but has a hypersensitivity to garlic, and sobs if she sees red sauce on anything. So, again, yes.

While all of these signs point to YES, Lucy has been evaluated twice and received a big NO. Partly because she is still a little young for a diagnosis, and partly because she has days where she is pretty much, well, normal. She is on the cusp, I guess. We are taking Lucy for yet another evaluation this afternoon, where they will assess her quirky-ness and see if they can figure out ways to help her, this time with speech and language.

I struggle so much with the all of the unknown that surrounds her. I cry inside every time I see another kid cringe at her well meaning hug. I love watching her at the piano and listening to the songs she writes with names like 'life fire' or spying on her as she's totally absorbed at her easel. I don't want to change who she is. I only want to help make her voyage through this world a little easier.

State of Emotions

My firstborn takes after his mother in many ways. Obviously, he gets his charm, intelligence and good looks from me, but he has also inherited a flair for being overly emotional.

On Sunday afternoon I was upstairs working, and when I came down to check on the score of the hockey game Sam was watching, I found him sobbing on the couch. I asked what was wrong, and he couldn't even answer he was crying so hard. He pointed emphatically at the television and I panicked, thinking that maybe there had been some tragic news story that interrupted the game. Nope, he was simply crying because the Penguins lost to the Flyers (two days in a row) and he was despondent. 

He is also prone to hyperbole. For example, each and every day is either the worst day ever or the best day ever. If he gets into trouble at school, he'll call himself the stupidest boy in the world, and if he scores a goal at hockey it's because he's the best player on his team.

Lately, piano has been vexing him. For the first two months they were playing simple pieces with the right and left hands playing the same thing. He's flying through his lessons (musical talent runs on my side of the family, by the way) and has started working on a piece where his left hand is playing something entirely different from his right hand. This is incredibly frustrating to him, and when he is in his lesson his teacher will hold onto some tissues so that she can catch the tears dripping off of his nose before they hit the keys. And while he claims to hate piano more than anything in the world, he'll often sit himself down and start playing without any prompting from me, so I know he can't hate it too much. 

He finally got his hands working together but independently. I was so proud of him, and he was so proud of himself. I want to share this because I'm hoping, like the skating videos, that one day we'll have a fun little chronological order series of his talent developing. 

Lightly Row

Fred Shows His Dad How To Bust a Move

Our Family On Ice

A few weeks ago I took Freddie to a 'mommy and me' stick time session at our rink, cementing his position as youngest first time ice skater in our family! To be fair, I may have been younger, but I don't remember. I'll be gracious and give him the title. Last year I took Maggie for the first time, Lucy started when she was three as well, and Sam went for the first time on his third birthday, but then didn't go again for over a year. Fred got on the ice a few weeks shy of his third birthday, and he cried most of the time. In his defense, later on that night he came down with a fever, so I think he was already feeling crummy. That first day he didn't manage to do much besides push a bucket a few feet around the door, and even that was done only through bribery with a twix bar. Last Friday, however, he did much better. He was feeling better, so that helped. And his pappy came along, which was very fun for him. He was still pushing a bucket, but he did several laps around the rink at a pretty good clip. In fact, he was comparing himself to Turbo the snail, and he kept saying 'left turn!' as we would round the corners. (If you haven't seen the movie Turbo than this means nothing to you, but be assured it was as cute as hell.) 

I usually make a video of Sam skating at the end of each hockey season, but he's too fast for me now. I tried at a public session back at the beginning of February, but he kept getting lost in the crowd because I couldn't keep up with him. He can really move when he wants to. His hockey skills have grown a lot this year, too, but I'm glad he has one more season as a mite because he needs to work on his listening skills. Plus he'll be a giant next season, and that might be fun for him. Back at Christmastime I got a quick video of him before he got away from me. He is in the orange coat...

Lucy has passed her first figure skating skills test with flying colors, which surprises me not at all! Back when she was skating regularly, she always seemed to pick things up a little faster than Sam. She hasn't been on the ice nearly as much last year and this year, but it only took a week or two for her to get right back into things! She has been asking for one of those sparkly, twirly figure skating costumes, but has no desire for her own skates. I told her she would be getting her own white skates first, because the pretty costume wouldn't look as nice with her brown rental skates. She was not happy with me. 

Maggie also graduated to the next level of ice skating class. She was in a tot prep class, also know as the bucket class, but in the next session she will be in the snowplow Sam class! She is very excited about the name of the class, but less excited about the lack of buckets used in said class. We also took her to the mommy and me stick time last week, and she was appropriately adorable. However, I don't think hockey is her thing. She was holding the stick upside down the whole time. 

SOB still has never gone skating. He is, and will always will be, the undisputed oldest first time skater in our family.

Some footage of Fred pushing a bucket with a little Maggie bonus!

My Two Sons

This is Fred crying because we took him out in the snow. As he requested. 

My boys, my lovely little fellas, have been being a humongous pain in the neck these past few weeks. I've avoided writing about because I was hoping it was a short phase brought on by the inconsistent school schedules and horrible weather we've been having. That may very well be true, but because of some damn groundhog we're looking at another six weeks of this shit, so I'm assuming the bad behavior isn't going away any time soon.

Fred. Oh my sweet little baby Fred. I was the last one to know about this shift in your behavior. You saved up all of your smiles and cuddles for your mama. Unfortunately you ran out sometime in the middle of last week, and now all I get is screaming and poking and hitting and spitting. And the whining, my god the whining. The only thing in life that you desire is a "blaster toy", which you will point at someone and scream FREEZE RAY! Thank you Star Wars and Despicable Me. Mostly, people don't like gun-type things pointed at their faces, and this particular blaster toy makes a sound that would drive even the most patient person insane. So we hide it from you. But usually you find it, and since we're smart enough to hide it up high, you just sit on the floor under said "blaster toy" and wail. "Fred, stop crying." "BUT I WANT A BLASTER TOY!" "Fred, come eat dinner." "BUT I WANT A BLASTER TOY!" "Here, have a cupcake instead." "BUT I WANT A BLASTER TOY!" If it wasn't Sam's effing blaster toy, we would have thrown it away weeks ago.

Speaking of Sam, guess who's grounded until he's 42? He's developed the attitude of a teenager, combined with the anger management issues of a DMV employee, and the impulse control of a toddler, with a touch of hormonal pregnant lady peppered in there, just for laughs. He's been alternately weepy (over NOTHING) then shove-y, then mouthy, and then punchy. Mostly with us at home, but I've seen it happen after school and at hockey. He actually got kicked out of practice on Monday (by me) for being way to rough with his team mates and giving me enough lip to last a lifetime. The hilarious thing about this is that he's practically been an angel during school, and his piano teacher sent me a long email last week about how lovely he is (and Lucy, too). I'm worried because he doesn't seem to pick up on social cues, and so he'll be goofing around with a friend, things will get a little too rough, and Sam, who is a giant among second graders, can't seem to stop himself. Even after calling his name 3 or 4 times, he doesn't stop what he's doing, and I usually have to intervene physically. If he's with his friends or team mates, it doesn't come off as malicious, just annoying. Lucy, on the other hand, he seems intent on killing.

We're going on vacation in a few weeks, and we're going to be spending a lot of quality time together, including TWO 16 hour car rides. I hope we all make it back with our sanity (and limbs) intact. 

Can a Picture Be Worth 1,000,000 Words?

I Took My Kids To Puerto Rico, and All They Got Was a Lousy Sunburn

Well, there is a first time for everything, and this was the first time we took the big kids on a vacation without the littles. SOB had gone to San Juan for work during the summer, and the folks he met there were quite enthused with his performance, so they invited him to return for a conference in the fall. Visiting a tropical island just as the weather becomes dreary? Sign me up!

We visited a tropical rain forest...

Frolicked in the sea (we did not yet realize that we had forgotten the sunscreen)...

Listened to some great local music...

Enjoyed some great local cuisine (observe the redness in Sam's face)...

And swam some more in the pool! (In the early evening, because by then they were rather pink and we knew we didn't have any sunscreen. Parenting FAIL!)

But despite the minor sunburns, we all had a blast and can't wait to go back!

Big Kid Vacationing

Wow. Long ago, I used to blog all the time. Now I just sit and edit photos all of the time. BUT! I only have one session left on my schedule (plus 6 unscheduled, but I'm pretending those don't exist!) and only five sessions left to edit. Perfect timing for a vacation!!!

Well, not exactly, but that's the way the cookie crumbles. We planned a ton of stuff for October and November before I knew exactly how busy I was going to be. So our trip to Philly to see Pearl Jam was a little ill timed, but we had a blast. I'm still trying to catch up on sleep, but it was so worth it. Some opportunities are only going to come along every so often. Pearl Jam won't be touring forever. And sometimes, SOB gets a business opportunity that we can't pass up. So on Thursday we leave for a four day trip to Puerto Rico!

Not all of us, though. It may seem cruel, but we're leaving Maggie and Freddie at home. We love those little buggers, but when it comes to treks through the tropical rain forest or snorkeling, well, they suck. And sometimes, when we are vacationing without their grandparents or a babysitter, it means that we end up missing out on some amazing things. Also, air travel costs mucho dinero, and the cost of leaving  them here in the comfort of their own home with loving, caring people, well, it doesn't cost anywhere near as much. So yeah, they get to stay at home. Hooray?

Maggie is keenly aware of this fact, and has been toying with my emotions. She asks me on a daily basis if I'll stay with her forever and never leave her. She cries and whines and begs to come along. She wraps herself around my leg and refuses to let go. At this point I've promised to bring her back an amazing present, and also to let her eat all of the Halloween candy she wants while we're gone.

By the time I buy them their guilt gifts and pay for all of their dental bills, it will probably be more expensive than taking them along. But I'm hoping that the things we do with Sam and Lucy will make up for that life experiences. Stay tuned for photos!

Blog, Interrupted

Business is booming, and October is looking to be the busiest month I've ever had ever, both personally and professionally. Just this past weekend I was busy with these two lovelies, plus another family.

Oh, and plus my OWN family! We went to see the giant duck that's floating down at the point. Then we picked pumpkins. That was after an hour and a half of hockey practice. At the end we visited with my sister-in-law and my cutie nephews!

The grind isn't going to let up for a few more weeks, so things might be quite quiet around here. I'll try and pop in to say hello every now and again, though, ok? Be well, internets! 

And Just Like That, She Was Four

Maggie turned four the other day, and boy howdy was it a big affair!

 We rented a big bouncy house, complete with slide

We had a piñata, which was totally a unicorn and totally NOT a donkey

And at the end we even went for a family swim!

The party was a huge success, by my estimation. Maybe the best kids party we've ever thrown. We had a great mix of family, old friends, and new friends. There were some folks who we missed, but after a few minutes in the bouncy house it was hard to focus on the negative.

Also, Maggie decided to stop wearing a diaper to bed now that she's four. I was happy to hear that, but not at all optimistic. She's never once woken up dry, but since it was the weekend I thought I'd indulge her. Well guess what? Three days later and she is doing spectacular! Not a single accident! However, for the first two nights she had to come and wake me up to tell me she peed and then to snuggle each time she went to the potty. Sweet, but it got old real quick. I finally convinced her that she didn't need to notify me each and every time she went potty, and last night I slept uninterrupted and she still woke up dry.

So far, four is awesome!

So without further ado, here is the annual birthday montage! 

Make a video - it's fun, easy and free!
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Ice, Ice, Baby

We had the most lovely late summer weekend last week. Warm and sunny days without a cloud in the sky. The perfect time for hockey to begin! Sam had his first three practices Saturday, Sunday and Monday. Nothing like starting off with a bang. And I had my first three practices as an assistant coach. 

I cannot tell a lie. I was so nervous I almost peed my pants. When I was an assistant coach back in WV, I was working with 4 and 5 year old kids who were mostly just starting out. And the organization was very relaxed. Basically, anyone with skates and a helmet could come out and be an on ice babysitter assistant coach. 

Up here in Pee-Ay things are a little more intense. There are teams all over the place, with each organization having at least one elite team that usually contains the son or daughter of a famous local hockey player. You have to try out to make even the lowest level team. And many of the coaches played hockey in college and some still play in adult leagues. And then there's me. Former figure skater, hockey fan and mother. I have skates, a pink helmet, and a pair of gloves only because of the big bag of gear our nephew donated to Sammy. He's 10, and his hands are as big as mine. Thanks Jack! 

I actually know how to skate pretty well, and know a thing or two about the game of hockey, but damn if I wasn't shaking like a leaf. Lukcily we got there a little early on the first day and I got to go out and skate a few laps at the tail end of the public session before the practice began. Good thing, too, because my right leg was litterally trembling. The pre-practice coaches meeting had been cancelled, so I hadn't really met anyone. And the one guy I did know didn't remember/recognize me with my helmet on, so I had to do that awkward thing where I reminded him who I was and of the (several) times he's come to our house so his kid could play with my kid. Good times. For some reason I wasn't yet on the coaches email distribution list, so I didn't have the practice plans and I was just sort of floundering, surrounded by about 60 little boys and a few girls hell bent on running me over.

I almost quit then and there.

When I got home I wanted to cry, I was so disappointed in myself. Luckily, I have an awesome husband who came to watch us, and he reassured me that I looked just as qualified to be out there as almost everyone else. (There was at least one guy a little more qualified than me.)

I went back the next day things were a little easier since it was only 25 kids instead of 60, and I got to know the other coaches on our team better. Finally, last night was another big group pratice and I really felt good about it. I had fun, Sam is having fun with me being his coach, and he seems to be listening and doing well. I think the other guys realize that I'm serious about being there and not just some clingy mommy who wants to be with her baby all the time. 

Well, I do want to spend time with my boy, but if we can spend time together playing hockey, well, that's even better, right? It sure beats sitting in the stands with my toes freezing off! 

Tangled Up In Indigo

My grandmother has dementia. She has had it for a while, but things have gotten worse lately. She has no recollection of my kids, even after spending the day with them. She thinks her long deceased parents are still alive, and when she is away from home for a while she starts to worry if her dad knows where she is. To make matters worse, she has breast cancer. My aunt has to take her to treatment and since she never remembers that she has cancer, it's a constant battle that no body wins.

A long time ago, when I was a little girl, my mother's grandmother had dementia. She found this poem and it brought her a lot of solace. With my other grandmother's death still fresh on my heart, I've been feeling like I need some solace as well. So I decided to do this:

It's a daily, visual reminder to try and hold onto those happy moments, with her and with everyone. To remind me to have fun with my kids. To kiss my husband goodnight each and every day. To not wait until I'm old and gray to do things I should be doing now. Like dyeing my hair purple.

Sunflowers and Nieces

So I would have to say that these Russian Mammoth Sunflowers really lived up to their name. My brother is 6'2" and the biggest one it definitely taller than he is. In other news...

MY NIECES ARE IN THE HOUSE!

My apologies in advance, but I might break the internet with all the photos of these little darlings that I'll be posting this week. Stay tuned!