The Ladybug Picnic
Posted for no other reason than it makes me smile.
Go Gators!
2007 National Champs x 2
2007 National Champs x 2
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Sunday, June 17, 2007
Thursday, June 07, 2007
"Nancy did not like to be told that she was pretty. She preferred to be called interesting." ~ The Secret of Red Gate Farm, 1941.
High on a bookcase in the study, resides one of my most prized possessions ~ my Nancy Drew books. My mother gave me her volumes and over the years I spent my allowance and baby sitting money adding to my collection. When Heidi came along, she and I added more and among the three of us, countless hours of our childhoods were spent reading about Nancy’s exploits.
Capable, level-headed, poised, independent, gentle, well-mannered, tough yet feminine, socially active, athletic and interested in the arts, Nancy - a tall, blonde - spent her life looking for trouble wherever trouble might be. Though her mother died when she was a small child, Nancy had the backing and respect of her father, Carson Drew, a famous Mid-West lawyer, and with his help and the help of her ‘chums’ George, Bess and Ned, Nancy solved over 350 mysteries during her seventy five year career. Remarkably, Miss Drew never worked for a living, but the job skills she acquired and the wisdom she obtained would come in handy for any woman trying to make her way in this world.
Everything I ever really needed to know I learned from Nancy Drew.
Be independent. However, when you can’t do it by yourself, at least be in charge.
Keep fresh batteries in the torch (flashlight) and a magnifying glass in the glove compartment. Since no one wears gloves anymore, there should be plenty of room.
Traveling at high speeds on gravel roads, breaking and entering, trespassing into abandoned bungalows and musty attics, sneaking around ivy-covered mansions and castle dungeons, opening locked doors, chests and drawers ~ all are acceptable when trying to solve a mystery.
When helping the underprivileged (or friends for that matter), be undaunted by the money or time spent.
Take a date to prom capable of moving fallen trees.
Fulfill social obligations and attend scheduled community functions before heading out to do your sleuthing.
Good relations with the house keeper are very important, though they are often laid up with an injury or out of town when you really need them.
Keep the phone number for the orthopedist close to the phone, or if you have a cell phone, put him/her on speed dial.
A flower garden keeps you busy between cases.
At all times be prepared to ride a horse, drive a boat, pilot a plane, fix your own car (or find someone capable enough to do it), break out of a closet, scuba dive or tap dance in Morse code.
Beware of shady characters.
Even though you might have perhaps had a volatile relationship with law enforcement in your early years, the police can come in handy should you ever be threatened by villains later in life.
An attractive swim suit and a change of eye-catching clothing should be kept close at hand for emergencies.
Being a ‘daddy’s girl’ has its perks.
Should you find your friend in a predicament, move heaven and earth to get her out.
Having an attorney in the family may come in handy should you need assistance with titles, stocks, bonds, wills and securities fraud.
Store the family jewels in a safety deposit box.
Roadside tearooms and quaint inns are better than Burger King and a La Quinta.
There may come at least one time in your life where you will be forced to obstruct justice by harboring ‘wanted’ but seemingly innocent fugitives in your home.
Never accept land won in a contest.
Even the most mundane of towns can be home to burglars, jewel thieves, smugglers, kidnappers and organized crime syndicates.
Grateful friends give lovely gifts as thank yous.
Being proficient with a gun/revolver is important during times you need to threaten or kill dangerous wildlife.
Always have at least one friend who is forever on a diet and one friend who is a tomboy. You will be able to compliment them both and keep them grounded.
Spend time with a man who understands what your priorities are, yet remains patient. He should allow you to control the relationship even if it means last minute changes in plans. He should be a college graduate and play a sport, preferable football.
Having a convertible is never frivolous as long as it is a Mustang. Trade it in often for newer models making sure to get a variety of colors.
Eavesdropping is appropriate and often necessary.
Fashionable frocks, pearls and high heels are a staple in any woman’s wardrobe. Tasteful suits should be accompanied by a matching hat and shoes should always coordinate with your handbag.
Kerri
"If worry were an effective weight-loss program, women would be invisible." Nancy Drew
High on a bookcase in the study, resides one of my most prized possessions ~ my Nancy Drew books. My mother gave me her volumes and over the years I spent my allowance and baby sitting money adding to my collection. When Heidi came along, she and I added more and among the three of us, countless hours of our childhoods were spent reading about Nancy’s exploits.
Capable, level-headed, poised, independent, gentle, well-mannered, tough yet feminine, socially active, athletic and interested in the arts, Nancy - a tall, blonde - spent her life looking for trouble wherever trouble might be. Though her mother died when she was a small child, Nancy had the backing and respect of her father, Carson Drew, a famous Mid-West lawyer, and with his help and the help of her ‘chums’ George, Bess and Ned, Nancy solved over 350 mysteries during her seventy five year career. Remarkably, Miss Drew never worked for a living, but the job skills she acquired and the wisdom she obtained would come in handy for any woman trying to make her way in this world.
Everything I ever really needed to know I learned from Nancy Drew.
Be independent. However, when you can’t do it by yourself, at least be in charge.
Keep fresh batteries in the torch (flashlight) and a magnifying glass in the glove compartment. Since no one wears gloves anymore, there should be plenty of room.
Traveling at high speeds on gravel roads, breaking and entering, trespassing into abandoned bungalows and musty attics, sneaking around ivy-covered mansions and castle dungeons, opening locked doors, chests and drawers ~ all are acceptable when trying to solve a mystery.
When helping the underprivileged (or friends for that matter), be undaunted by the money or time spent.
Take a date to prom capable of moving fallen trees.
Fulfill social obligations and attend scheduled community functions before heading out to do your sleuthing.
Good relations with the house keeper are very important, though they are often laid up with an injury or out of town when you really need them.
Keep the phone number for the orthopedist close to the phone, or if you have a cell phone, put him/her on speed dial.
A flower garden keeps you busy between cases.
At all times be prepared to ride a horse, drive a boat, pilot a plane, fix your own car (or find someone capable enough to do it), break out of a closet, scuba dive or tap dance in Morse code.
Beware of shady characters.
Even though you might have perhaps had a volatile relationship with law enforcement in your early years, the police can come in handy should you ever be threatened by villains later in life.
An attractive swim suit and a change of eye-catching clothing should be kept close at hand for emergencies.
Being a ‘daddy’s girl’ has its perks.
Should you find your friend in a predicament, move heaven and earth to get her out.
Having an attorney in the family may come in handy should you need assistance with titles, stocks, bonds, wills and securities fraud.
Store the family jewels in a safety deposit box.
Roadside tearooms and quaint inns are better than Burger King and a La Quinta.
There may come at least one time in your life where you will be forced to obstruct justice by harboring ‘wanted’ but seemingly innocent fugitives in your home.
Never accept land won in a contest.
Even the most mundane of towns can be home to burglars, jewel thieves, smugglers, kidnappers and organized crime syndicates.
Grateful friends give lovely gifts as thank yous.
Being proficient with a gun/revolver is important during times you need to threaten or kill dangerous wildlife.
Always have at least one friend who is forever on a diet and one friend who is a tomboy. You will be able to compliment them both and keep them grounded.
Spend time with a man who understands what your priorities are, yet remains patient. He should allow you to control the relationship even if it means last minute changes in plans. He should be a college graduate and play a sport, preferable football.
Having a convertible is never frivolous as long as it is a Mustang. Trade it in often for newer models making sure to get a variety of colors.
Eavesdropping is appropriate and often necessary.
Fashionable frocks, pearls and high heels are a staple in any woman’s wardrobe. Tasteful suits should be accompanied by a matching hat and shoes should always coordinate with your handbag.
Kerri
"If worry were an effective weight-loss program, women would be invisible." Nancy Drew
Tuesday, June 05, 2007
David 'D.J.' Emery Jr., of Bellefonte Receives his Purple Heart
Back in April, I told you about DJ Emery and his wife Leslie.
Marine Corporal David Emery Jr. of the Battalion Landing Team of the 2nd Battalion, 4th Marine Regiment, 15th Marine Expeditionary Unit was serving in Iraq. David, aka "DJ", graduated high school in 2003. DJ's unit was extended past their rotation date of January 1st and he was hoping to make it home in time for his child's birth.
On February 7th, 2007, DJ was at a checkpoint near a crowded place when a terrorist walked up to the Marines. DJ's Battalion Sergeant Major, Joseph Ellis (a recon Marine of 23 years), suspected that a bomber was approaching and put himself between the bomber and his Marines.
The bomber quickly detonated himself, instantly killing Sergeant Major Ellis. The Sergeant Major's sacrifice absorbed enough of the blast to barely keep DJ from being killed. DJ was hit hard in his abdomen - an artery was cut causing kidney failure - both legs and one arm were shattered, and, in fact, his wounds were so severe that doctors didn't think that he'd make it. On the 18th, DJ was strong enough to make the trip from Germany to the US (Bethesda). DJ is still fighting for his life.
CarePages sends me daily updates on DJ and his progress. Honestly, I don't know how he has done it. There were points in time I thought every update might bring bad news, but by DJ's will power and that of his mother, Connie and wife, Leslie, and the prayers of those who love him, DJ is making slow, very slow, progress.
DJ finally gets to hold his new baby girl, Carlee.
President Bush presents Marine Sgt. David D.J. Emery Jr., of Bellefonte with a Purple Heart Friday at the National Naval Medical Center in Bethesda, Md. I think the President invited DJ to visit him at the White House when he is able.
DJ is moving this week to Walter Reed and will probably sometime in the near future be at Fisher House or a facility like it.
Go back and pledge. You need to and you know you want to.
Back in April, I told you about DJ Emery and his wife Leslie.
Marine Corporal David Emery Jr. of the Battalion Landing Team of the 2nd Battalion, 4th Marine Regiment, 15th Marine Expeditionary Unit was serving in Iraq. David, aka "DJ", graduated high school in 2003. DJ's unit was extended past their rotation date of January 1st and he was hoping to make it home in time for his child's birth.
On February 7th, 2007, DJ was at a checkpoint near a crowded place when a terrorist walked up to the Marines. DJ's Battalion Sergeant Major, Joseph Ellis (a recon Marine of 23 years), suspected that a bomber was approaching and put himself between the bomber and his Marines.
The bomber quickly detonated himself, instantly killing Sergeant Major Ellis. The Sergeant Major's sacrifice absorbed enough of the blast to barely keep DJ from being killed. DJ was hit hard in his abdomen - an artery was cut causing kidney failure - both legs and one arm were shattered, and, in fact, his wounds were so severe that doctors didn't think that he'd make it. On the 18th, DJ was strong enough to make the trip from Germany to the US (Bethesda). DJ is still fighting for his life.
CarePages sends me daily updates on DJ and his progress. Honestly, I don't know how he has done it. There were points in time I thought every update might bring bad news, but by DJ's will power and that of his mother, Connie and wife, Leslie, and the prayers of those who love him, DJ is making slow, very slow, progress.
DJ finally gets to hold his new baby girl, Carlee.
President Bush presents Marine Sgt. David D.J. Emery Jr., of Bellefonte with a Purple Heart Friday at the National Naval Medical Center in Bethesda, Md. I think the President invited DJ to visit him at the White House when he is able.
DJ is moving this week to Walter Reed and will probably sometime in the near future be at Fisher House or a facility like it.
Go back and pledge. You need to and you know you want to.
Monday, June 04, 2007
Next October, When I Run the Boston Marathon....
Okay, so I am not running in a marathon, Steven Kane is. Steven is a member of the Nebraska National Guard and he is running the Chicago Marathon on October 7th. All 26.2 Miles, yikes! You know my opinion on running....
Oh yes, and he is training while serving in Iraq. Go here to see his training program.
Go here to pledge.
All proceeds go to the Fisher House, which provides "comfort homes," built on the grounds of major military and VA medical centers. These homes enable family members to be close to their soldier during the hospitalization for an unexpected illness, disease, or injury.This is the most worthy cause I have found in a long, long time.
Remember JR Salzman? He and his family spent time at the Fisher House.
What are you doing just sitting there? Go pledge.
Okay, so I am not running in a marathon, Steven Kane is. Steven is a member of the Nebraska National Guard and he is running the Chicago Marathon on October 7th. All 26.2 Miles, yikes! You know my opinion on running....
Oh yes, and he is training while serving in Iraq. Go here to see his training program.
Go here to pledge.
All proceeds go to the Fisher House, which provides "comfort homes," built on the grounds of major military and VA medical centers. These homes enable family members to be close to their soldier during the hospitalization for an unexpected illness, disease, or injury.This is the most worthy cause I have found in a long, long time.
Remember JR Salzman? He and his family spent time at the Fisher House.
What are you doing just sitting there? Go pledge.
Sunday, June 03, 2007
The Last Days of Chez JBAD
It's taken me a few weeks as you can see to come down out of the clouds. Heidi is finally back in the US of A, but not really home. That momentous event won't happen until later this month and then we only get her for a few weeks. I refuse to be anything but content and grateful, especially when soldiers continue to die every day in Iraq and Afghanistan, when there are soldiers still missing, soldiers fighting for their lives in military hospitals and other military families are still separated from their loved ones. So as you can see, it's a 'mixed bag' of emotions ~ extreme delight at our good fortune and guilt that we are the fortunate ones.
This doesn't mean I am not so happy I just about can't stand it. Heidi looks fabulous and I don't think I have seen her in such high spirits in ten years. Honestly. It's a combination of a lot of factors I am sure, some I won’t even begin to try to understand or explain, but there it is.
Last Saturday evening, I flew into Syracuse and spent the night in one of the worst hotels I have ever had the bad luck of finding. Only by reminding myself that this room would seem like a palace to most of our soldiers serving around the world did I keep from having a pity party for myself. Sunday morning, I traveled up to Watertown and the Ft. Drum area only getting lost once which if you know the way from the airport to the fort will seem like quite the feat.
Heidi’s dear friend, Sherry, met me for lunch, gave me the grand tour of Watertown and graciously took me to the base where I produced my birth certificate, passport, driver’s license, Social Security card, Sam’s Club membership and library card for a pass. Finally, Sherry and I sited McGrath Gym where the welcome home festivities would be held later that night. I would have difficulties finding this gym and the way off the base for the rest of the weekend.
I arrived at McGrath Gym two hours before the 10:00 p.m. scheduled arrival. Just my luck I figured, if I didn’t, for once the Army would be early and I would miss the entire thing. Imagine that - sixteen months, thousands of miles, hundreds of tears, terrifying days, weeks and I would miss it? I think not.
They at last marched in, four rows, hundreds of soldiers, all dressed alike, all looking ahead, caps down over their eyes. I couldn’t find Heidi anywhere. The short, ten minute ‘ceremony’ and I don’t recollect anything that was said. In conclusion, the commander said, “and so they are dismissed.....” The rest of us knew there would be music, the national anthem, a prayer and then the rush, but not one little girl, a daughter maybe two years old, who ran out from the crowd of anxiously waiting family members and friends. She ran straight to her dad and hugged him around the knees, not letting go. It was what we all wanted to do, but couldn’t. I envied her. The national anthem, lots of tears, and finally the rush to find each other.
It was a magnificent few days. Like a dream. I cannot believe Heidi is really home. She kept my camera to use for a few days (weeks), so I don’t yet have the pictures I took of her and the short, sweet welcome home ceremony. Nevertheless, she has sent me some pictures I will share with you and when she finally comes home, maybe I can spare a few moments of her time with you.
Thank you for being there with me all of this long, difficult, proud time, dear friends. I will never forget.
Heidi’s Mom
.jpg)
Heidi found this beautiful spot in JBAD, someone's cherished garden. She says she came here often and dreamed of home.
Our soldier, we are very proud of you, Heidi.
Most of the crew, all are safe and home at last.
The Colonel and Heidi at her re-enlistment ceremony. Colonel says it was appropriate to have it on the volleyball court, Heidi's second home.
Heidi and Rob
It's taken me a few weeks as you can see to come down out of the clouds. Heidi is finally back in the US of A, but not really home. That momentous event won't happen until later this month and then we only get her for a few weeks. I refuse to be anything but content and grateful, especially when soldiers continue to die every day in Iraq and Afghanistan, when there are soldiers still missing, soldiers fighting for their lives in military hospitals and other military families are still separated from their loved ones. So as you can see, it's a 'mixed bag' of emotions ~ extreme delight at our good fortune and guilt that we are the fortunate ones.
This doesn't mean I am not so happy I just about can't stand it. Heidi looks fabulous and I don't think I have seen her in such high spirits in ten years. Honestly. It's a combination of a lot of factors I am sure, some I won’t even begin to try to understand or explain, but there it is.
Last Saturday evening, I flew into Syracuse and spent the night in one of the worst hotels I have ever had the bad luck of finding. Only by reminding myself that this room would seem like a palace to most of our soldiers serving around the world did I keep from having a pity party for myself. Sunday morning, I traveled up to Watertown and the Ft. Drum area only getting lost once which if you know the way from the airport to the fort will seem like quite the feat.
Heidi’s dear friend, Sherry, met me for lunch, gave me the grand tour of Watertown and graciously took me to the base where I produced my birth certificate, passport, driver’s license, Social Security card, Sam’s Club membership and library card for a pass. Finally, Sherry and I sited McGrath Gym where the welcome home festivities would be held later that night. I would have difficulties finding this gym and the way off the base for the rest of the weekend.
I arrived at McGrath Gym two hours before the 10:00 p.m. scheduled arrival. Just my luck I figured, if I didn’t, for once the Army would be early and I would miss the entire thing. Imagine that - sixteen months, thousands of miles, hundreds of tears, terrifying days, weeks and I would miss it? I think not.
They at last marched in, four rows, hundreds of soldiers, all dressed alike, all looking ahead, caps down over their eyes. I couldn’t find Heidi anywhere. The short, ten minute ‘ceremony’ and I don’t recollect anything that was said. In conclusion, the commander said, “and so they are dismissed.....” The rest of us knew there would be music, the national anthem, a prayer and then the rush, but not one little girl, a daughter maybe two years old, who ran out from the crowd of anxiously waiting family members and friends. She ran straight to her dad and hugged him around the knees, not letting go. It was what we all wanted to do, but couldn’t. I envied her. The national anthem, lots of tears, and finally the rush to find each other.
It was a magnificent few days. Like a dream. I cannot believe Heidi is really home. She kept my camera to use for a few days (weeks), so I don’t yet have the pictures I took of her and the short, sweet welcome home ceremony. Nevertheless, she has sent me some pictures I will share with you and when she finally comes home, maybe I can spare a few moments of her time with you.
Thank you for being there with me all of this long, difficult, proud time, dear friends. I will never forget.
Heidi’s Mom
.jpg)
Heidi found this beautiful spot in JBAD, someone's cherished garden. She says she came here often and dreamed of home.
Our soldier, we are very proud of you, Heidi.
Most of the crew, all are safe and home at last.
The Colonel and Heidi at her re-enlistment ceremony. Colonel says it was appropriate to have it on the volleyball court, Heidi's second home.
Heidi and Rob
Saturday, May 19, 2007
No Time To Do Much of Anything....
Between baby showers (2 of them), dances (2 of them), birthdays (I forgot the number), trips to theme parks, pool parties, putt putt golf hole construction, volleyball tournaments, awards desserts, last minute school projects, mountains of dirty laundry and dishes and most important, planning and packing for my trip to finally welcome Heidi home.....I have not had much time for blogging. Look at this, hopefully laugh, and I promise loads of pictures and amusing anecdotes when I get back.
Much love.
Kerri
Between baby showers (2 of them), dances (2 of them), birthdays (I forgot the number), trips to theme parks, pool parties, putt putt golf hole construction, volleyball tournaments, awards desserts, last minute school projects, mountains of dirty laundry and dishes and most important, planning and packing for my trip to finally welcome Heidi home.....I have not had much time for blogging. Look at this, hopefully laugh, and I promise loads of pictures and amusing anecdotes when I get back.
Much love.
Kerri
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Prom 2007, Part Two
Jerad lines up and does the limbo.
Mack and Julie. There seemed to be a shortage of chairs all night.
Marsh adds his spin on the limbo routine.
More of me stalking Brett and Laura.
The party danced to the macarena, YMCA and some sort of chicken dance.
Becca and her beautiful dress.
Some took their shoes off, some kept them on....
And still the beat went on......
Jerad lines up and does the limbo.
Mack and Julie. There seemed to be a shortage of chairs all night.
Marsh adds his spin on the limbo routine.
More of me stalking Brett and Laura.
The party danced to the macarena, YMCA and some sort of chicken dance.
Becca and her beautiful dress.
Some took their shoes off, some kept them on....
And still the beat went on......
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
A Walk on the Red Carpet, the Junior-Senior Prom, 2007
Marsh and Ashley agree to pose for pictures behind her lovely home on the lake.
Brett and Laura had a fabulous time and, from the looks of things, I think they prefer each others company to anyone's. Both thought I was stalking them until it was revealed I promised Brett's mom, Jodi, I would take pictures.
I am not sure who the girl in black is, but the one in red is Christa, one of my favorite people and a good friend of Marsh's. You have seen Christa before. She played 'The Matchmaker', Mrs. Dolly Levi last fall.
Stevie and Lynn enjoy a night out. They were the only couple I saw doing the tango. Marsh and Daron agreed, this color blue is perfect for Lynn.
Every good dance demands everyone does the limbo. Thank goodness I was too busy to join in.
More later. I am too busy packing.
Marsh and Ashley agree to pose for pictures behind her lovely home on the lake.
Brett and Laura had a fabulous time and, from the looks of things, I think they prefer each others company to anyone's. Both thought I was stalking them until it was revealed I promised Brett's mom, Jodi, I would take pictures.
I am not sure who the girl in black is, but the one in red is Christa, one of my favorite people and a good friend of Marsh's. You have seen Christa before. She played 'The Matchmaker', Mrs. Dolly Levi last fall. 
Stevie and Lynn enjoy a night out. They were the only couple I saw doing the tango. Marsh and Daron agreed, this color blue is perfect for Lynn.
Every good dance demands everyone does the limbo. Thank goodness I was too busy to join in.More later. I am too busy packing.
Monday, May 14, 2007
On Being Mom
by Anna Quindlen, Newsweek Columnist and Author
If not for the photographs, I might have a hard time believing they ever existed. The pensive infant with the swipe of dark bangs and the black button eyes of a Raggedy Andy doll. The placid baby with the yellow ringlets and the high piping voice. The sturdy toddler with the lower lip that curled into an apostrophe above her chin.
All my babies are gone now. I say this not in sorrow but in disbelief. I take great satisfaction in what I have today: three almost-adults, two taller than I am, one closing in fast. Three people who read the same books I do and have learned not to be afraid of disagreeing with me in their opinion of them, who sometimes tell vulgar jokes that make me laugh until I choke and cry, who need razor blades and shower gel and privacy, who want to keep their doors closed more than I like.
Who, miraculously, go to the bathroom, zip up their jackets and move food from plate to mouth all by themselves. Like the trick soap I bought for the bathroom with a rubber ducky at its center, the baby is buried deep within each, barely discernible except through the unreliable haze of the past.
Everything in all the books I once pored over is finished for me now. Penelope Leach., T. Berry Brazelton., Dr. Spock. The ones on sibling rivalry and sleeping through the night and early-childhood education, all grown obsolete. Along with Goodnight Moon and Where the Wild Things Are, they are battered, spotted, well used. But I suspect that if you flipped the pages dust would rise like memories.
What those books taught me, finally, and what the women on the playground taught me, and the well-meaning relations --what they taught me, was that they couldn't really teach me very much at all. Raising children is presented at first as a true-false test, then becomes multiple choice, until finally, far along, you realize that it is an endless essay. No one knows anything. One child responds well to positive reinforcement, another can be managed only with a stern voice and a timeout. One child is toilet trained at 3, his sibling at 2.
When my first child was born, parents were told to put baby to bed on his belly so that he would not choke on his own spit-up. By the time my last arrived, babies were put down on their backs because of research on sudden infant death syndrome. To a new parent this ever-shifting certainty is terrifying, and then soothing.
Eventually you must learn to trust yourself. Eventually the research will follow. I remember 15 years ago poring over one of Dr. Brazelton's wonderful books on child development, in which he describes three different sorts of infants: average, quiet, and active. I was looking for a sub-quiet codicil for an 18-month old who did not walk. Was there something wrong with his fat little legs? Was there something wrong with his tiny little mind? Was he developmentally delayed, physically challenged? Was I insane? Last year he went to China. Next year he goes to college. He can talk just fine. He can walk, too.
Every part of raising children is humbling, too. Believe me, mistakes were made. They have all been enshrined in the, "Remember-When-Mom-Did Hall of Fame." The outbursts, the temper tantrums, the bad language, mine, not theirs. The times the baby fell off the bed. The times I arrived late for preschool pickup. The nightmare sleepover. The horrible summer camp. The day when the youngest came barreling out of the classroom with a 98 on her geography test, and I responded, What did you get wrong? (She insisted I include that.) The time I ordered food at the McDonald's drive-through speaker and then drove away without picking it up from the window. (They all insisted I include that.) I did not allow them to watch the Simpsons for the first two seasons. What was I thinking?
But the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs.
There is one picture of the three of them, sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4 and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it
done a little less.
Even today I'm not sure what worked and what didn't, what was me and what was simply life. When they were very small, I suppose I thought someday they would become who they were because of what I'd done. Now I suspect they simply grew into their true selves because they demanded in a thousand ways that I back off and let them be.
The books said to be relaxed and I was often tense, matter-of-fact and I was sometimes over the top. And look how it all turned out. I wound up with the three people I like best in the world, who have done more than anyone to excavate my essential humanity.
That's what the books never told me. I was bound and determined to learn from the experts. It just took me a while to figure out who the experts were....
by Anna Quindlen, Newsweek Columnist and Author
If not for the photographs, I might have a hard time believing they ever existed. The pensive infant with the swipe of dark bangs and the black button eyes of a Raggedy Andy doll. The placid baby with the yellow ringlets and the high piping voice. The sturdy toddler with the lower lip that curled into an apostrophe above her chin.
All my babies are gone now. I say this not in sorrow but in disbelief. I take great satisfaction in what I have today: three almost-adults, two taller than I am, one closing in fast. Three people who read the same books I do and have learned not to be afraid of disagreeing with me in their opinion of them, who sometimes tell vulgar jokes that make me laugh until I choke and cry, who need razor blades and shower gel and privacy, who want to keep their doors closed more than I like.
Who, miraculously, go to the bathroom, zip up their jackets and move food from plate to mouth all by themselves. Like the trick soap I bought for the bathroom with a rubber ducky at its center, the baby is buried deep within each, barely discernible except through the unreliable haze of the past.
Everything in all the books I once pored over is finished for me now. Penelope Leach., T. Berry Brazelton., Dr. Spock. The ones on sibling rivalry and sleeping through the night and early-childhood education, all grown obsolete. Along with Goodnight Moon and Where the Wild Things Are, they are battered, spotted, well used. But I suspect that if you flipped the pages dust would rise like memories.
What those books taught me, finally, and what the women on the playground taught me, and the well-meaning relations --what they taught me, was that they couldn't really teach me very much at all. Raising children is presented at first as a true-false test, then becomes multiple choice, until finally, far along, you realize that it is an endless essay. No one knows anything. One child responds well to positive reinforcement, another can be managed only with a stern voice and a timeout. One child is toilet trained at 3, his sibling at 2.
When my first child was born, parents were told to put baby to bed on his belly so that he would not choke on his own spit-up. By the time my last arrived, babies were put down on their backs because of research on sudden infant death syndrome. To a new parent this ever-shifting certainty is terrifying, and then soothing.
Eventually you must learn to trust yourself. Eventually the research will follow. I remember 15 years ago poring over one of Dr. Brazelton's wonderful books on child development, in which he describes three different sorts of infants: average, quiet, and active. I was looking for a sub-quiet codicil for an 18-month old who did not walk. Was there something wrong with his fat little legs? Was there something wrong with his tiny little mind? Was he developmentally delayed, physically challenged? Was I insane? Last year he went to China. Next year he goes to college. He can talk just fine. He can walk, too.
Every part of raising children is humbling, too. Believe me, mistakes were made. They have all been enshrined in the, "Remember-When-Mom-Did Hall of Fame." The outbursts, the temper tantrums, the bad language, mine, not theirs. The times the baby fell off the bed. The times I arrived late for preschool pickup. The nightmare sleepover. The horrible summer camp. The day when the youngest came barreling out of the classroom with a 98 on her geography test, and I responded, What did you get wrong? (She insisted I include that.) The time I ordered food at the McDonald's drive-through speaker and then drove away without picking it up from the window. (They all insisted I include that.) I did not allow them to watch the Simpsons for the first two seasons. What was I thinking?
But the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs.
There is one picture of the three of them, sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4 and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it
done a little less.
Even today I'm not sure what worked and what didn't, what was me and what was simply life. When they were very small, I suppose I thought someday they would become who they were because of what I'd done. Now I suspect they simply grew into their true selves because they demanded in a thousand ways that I back off and let them be.
The books said to be relaxed and I was often tense, matter-of-fact and I was sometimes over the top. And look how it all turned out. I wound up with the three people I like best in the world, who have done more than anyone to excavate my essential humanity.
That's what the books never told me. I was bound and determined to learn from the experts. It just took me a while to figure out who the experts were....
Sunday, May 06, 2007
Cinco de Putt Putt
This past Friday, we celebrated Cinco de Mayo at TMA. Though it was officially Quattro de Mayo, hotter than cayenne pepper, and before we could all get away safely an ambulance was called, we still had a tremendously good time.
Cinco de Mayo (translated as "The Fifth of May" in Spanish) is the date observed in the United States and other locations around the world as a celebration of Mexican heritage and pride. A common misunderstanding in the United States is that Cinco de Mayo is Mexico's Independence Day. It’s not. Mexico's Independence Day is September 16 (Dieciséis de septiembre), and is celebrated with food, music and fireworks like we celebrate the 4th of July in the United States.
Cinco de Mayo celebrations include food, drink, music and dancing. We played mini-golf or ‘putt putt’ and had a soccer match. I couldn't find any documentation of Cinco de Mayo celebrations being celebrated with miniature golf and soccer, but what do I know?
Remarkably, after much research, I found more information about mini-golf than Cinco de Mayo!
This year on May 12, 2007, National Miniature Golf Day will have its inaugural celebration. Yes, from now on, every second Saturday of May will be National Miniature Golf Day. It is officially recognized and will be published in 2008's edition of Chase's Calendar of Events. Who says we aren’t on the cutting edge and ahead of our time?
Miss Matz, you knew this all along, right?
Minigolf was developed from golf during the 19th century. The best candidate as the "first minigolf course in the world" is the Ladies' Putting Club of St. Andrews in Scotland, which was founded in 1867, and is still operating and open to the public. This 18-hole course of putting greens, called "the Himalayas", was founded by some members of the notorious Royal & Ancient Golf Club in St. Andrews. Women had become interested in the game of golf, but conservative social norms of the era deemed it 'unacceptable' for women to publicly perform the violent movements that swinging a golf club requires. Therefore, an 18-hole course of short putting greens was constructed for women – apparently the first "miniature golf course" in the world.
In the early years, minigolf was extremely fashionable among movie stars and celebrities. During the 1930's, there were approximately 30,000 mini-golf courses throughout the country with over 150 rooftop courses in New York City alone!
Americans were hooked on miniature golf because here was a sport that any gender, any age could excel without being a well-conditioned athlete and an estimated four million Americans played miniature golf.
After the stock market crash of 1929, regulation minigolf links became too expensive for most people to afford. In spite of this, the desire to play this most popular game continued to flourish. The ingenuity of the players during this depressed period of American History spawned what became known as "Rinkiedink" golf. Undaunted by convention, enthusiastic players would use any space available to set up these unique and crazy courses. Due to the need for lights at night, many of these courses were built under a brilliantly illuminated billboard sign with the playing surface made of a clay or hard sand surface. There was even a green dye called "Grassit" which was used to color the ground to look like grass.
The first trade name mini course was developed and called ‘Tom Thumb Golf’. This course became the miniature golf most people know today as minigolf with an obstacle course and play-through hazards. Outdoor courses were landscaped with trees, flowers, shrubs, rookeries and fountains with umbrellas, easy chairs and snack bars to round off the ambiance. Look here for some really great old mini golf courses.
Indoor courses required imitation as well as miniaturization and came with their own set of design imperatives: ceilings were painted blue, supporting columns disguised as oaks or palms, and walls covered with canvas murals depicting open countryside or famous fairways. Balconies were transformed into clubhouses or verandas, offering drinks, snacks and rooms to gamble or play bridge. Some courses even provided caddies.
Public courses were open to anyone with a quarter or fifty cents. Miniature golf was one of the first outdoor sports that could be played at night – along with baseball and football. People could play an after-dinner round, purchase a combination movie and golf ticket or prolong a night at the theater by stopping on the way home to play in evening dress until the wee hours of the morning. Wanamaker's, the giant department store chain, featured Tom Thumb Fashions ~ "When you're Lilli-putting on the Miniature Golf Course ... remember your Clothes Technique!" Tom Thumb jackets with berets were $19.50.
Jump forward to the mid-1990's, and you find miniature golf ‘country club-designed courses’ holding the interest of players. Today's modern course features miniature replicas of regulation golf's "Famous Holes" complete with undulations, contours, moguls, water, sand & vegetation traps on the greens. Thus miniature golf now offers the player many of the challenges of real golf!
Though minigolf courses can be found in all parts of the world (the American Putt-Putt company had exported their minigolf courses to South Africa, Australia, Japan, India, Pakistan, Argentina, Brazil and the Eastern Block by the 1950s) their popularity is by far highest in the United States, the United Kingdom, Scandinavia and central Europe. In addition, there are pro mini golf tournaments held both nationally and internationally and a Pro Mini Golf Hall of Fame.
Muchos gracias to Janet for the fabulous pictures and to the US Pro Mini Golf Association for the info.
This past Friday, we celebrated Cinco de Mayo at TMA. Though it was officially Quattro de Mayo, hotter than cayenne pepper, and before we could all get away safely an ambulance was called, we still had a tremendously good time.
Cinco de Mayo (translated as "The Fifth of May" in Spanish) is the date observed in the United States and other locations around the world as a celebration of Mexican heritage and pride. A common misunderstanding in the United States is that Cinco de Mayo is Mexico's Independence Day. It’s not. Mexico's Independence Day is September 16 (Dieciséis de septiembre), and is celebrated with food, music and fireworks like we celebrate the 4th of July in the United States.
Cinco de Mayo celebrations include food, drink, music and dancing. We played mini-golf or ‘putt putt’ and had a soccer match. I couldn't find any documentation of Cinco de Mayo celebrations being celebrated with miniature golf and soccer, but what do I know?
Remarkably, after much research, I found more information about mini-golf than Cinco de Mayo!
This year on May 12, 2007, National Miniature Golf Day will have its inaugural celebration. Yes, from now on, every second Saturday of May will be National Miniature Golf Day. It is officially recognized and will be published in 2008's edition of Chase's Calendar of Events. Who says we aren’t on the cutting edge and ahead of our time?
Miss Matz, you knew this all along, right?
Minigolf was developed from golf during the 19th century. The best candidate as the "first minigolf course in the world" is the Ladies' Putting Club of St. Andrews in Scotland, which was founded in 1867, and is still operating and open to the public. This 18-hole course of putting greens, called "the Himalayas", was founded by some members of the notorious Royal & Ancient Golf Club in St. Andrews. Women had become interested in the game of golf, but conservative social norms of the era deemed it 'unacceptable' for women to publicly perform the violent movements that swinging a golf club requires. Therefore, an 18-hole course of short putting greens was constructed for women – apparently the first "miniature golf course" in the world.
In the early years, minigolf was extremely fashionable among movie stars and celebrities. During the 1930's, there were approximately 30,000 mini-golf courses throughout the country with over 150 rooftop courses in New York City alone!
Americans were hooked on miniature golf because here was a sport that any gender, any age could excel without being a well-conditioned athlete and an estimated four million Americans played miniature golf.
After the stock market crash of 1929, regulation minigolf links became too expensive for most people to afford. In spite of this, the desire to play this most popular game continued to flourish. The ingenuity of the players during this depressed period of American History spawned what became known as "Rinkiedink" golf. Undaunted by convention, enthusiastic players would use any space available to set up these unique and crazy courses. Due to the need for lights at night, many of these courses were built under a brilliantly illuminated billboard sign with the playing surface made of a clay or hard sand surface. There was even a green dye called "Grassit" which was used to color the ground to look like grass.
The first trade name mini course was developed and called ‘Tom Thumb Golf’. This course became the miniature golf most people know today as minigolf with an obstacle course and play-through hazards. Outdoor courses were landscaped with trees, flowers, shrubs, rookeries and fountains with umbrellas, easy chairs and snack bars to round off the ambiance. Look here for some really great old mini golf courses.
Indoor courses required imitation as well as miniaturization and came with their own set of design imperatives: ceilings were painted blue, supporting columns disguised as oaks or palms, and walls covered with canvas murals depicting open countryside or famous fairways. Balconies were transformed into clubhouses or verandas, offering drinks, snacks and rooms to gamble or play bridge. Some courses even provided caddies.
Public courses were open to anyone with a quarter or fifty cents. Miniature golf was one of the first outdoor sports that could be played at night – along with baseball and football. People could play an after-dinner round, purchase a combination movie and golf ticket or prolong a night at the theater by stopping on the way home to play in evening dress until the wee hours of the morning. Wanamaker's, the giant department store chain, featured Tom Thumb Fashions ~ "When you're Lilli-putting on the Miniature Golf Course ... remember your Clothes Technique!" Tom Thumb jackets with berets were $19.50.
Jump forward to the mid-1990's, and you find miniature golf ‘country club-designed courses’ holding the interest of players. Today's modern course features miniature replicas of regulation golf's "Famous Holes" complete with undulations, contours, moguls, water, sand & vegetation traps on the greens. Thus miniature golf now offers the player many of the challenges of real golf!
Though minigolf courses can be found in all parts of the world (the American Putt-Putt company had exported their minigolf courses to South Africa, Australia, Japan, India, Pakistan, Argentina, Brazil and the Eastern Block by the 1950s) their popularity is by far highest in the United States, the United Kingdom, Scandinavia and central Europe. In addition, there are pro mini golf tournaments held both nationally and internationally and a Pro Mini Golf Hall of Fame.
Muchos gracias to Janet for the fabulous pictures and to the US Pro Mini Golf Association for the info.
Thursday, May 03, 2007
My Dearest Heidi:
7,788 miles from home.
After all these months ~ way over a year ~ you will soon, finally, be back on American soil. Back where we can hug you and kiss you and never let you go again. I am counting the minutes, my bag is packed. I can't believe you are finally coming home. I will be there when your plane lands.
We are so proud of you, Sergeant. Proud of what you set out to do with your life, proud of how far you have come. Proud of what you will continue to do, where you will go, the lives you will touch. Lives you'll touch like you have touched my life, all of these 26 years.
Welcome home, Heidi, we have been waiting for you.
Love,
Mom
Monday, April 30, 2007
Coffee Beans
Doctors have concluded that if you find the man in the coffee beans in 3 seconds, the right half of your brain is better developed than most people.
If you find the man between 3 seconds and 1 minute, the right half of your brain has developed normally.
If you find the man between 1 minute and 3 minutes, then the right half of your brain is functioning slowly and you need to eat more protein.
If you have not found the man after 3 minutes, give up, go have another cup of coffee and forget those dreams of becoming a rocket scientist. However, there could be a place for you in either politics or on talk shows.
Doctors have concluded that if you find the man in the coffee beans in 3 seconds, the right half of your brain is better developed than most people.
If you find the man between 3 seconds and 1 minute, the right half of your brain has developed normally.
If you find the man between 1 minute and 3 minutes, then the right half of your brain is functioning slowly and you need to eat more protein.
If you have not found the man after 3 minutes, give up, go have another cup of coffee and forget those dreams of becoming a rocket scientist. However, there could be a place for you in either politics or on talk shows.
Friday, April 27, 2007
Please give this woman a room without The View
Finally, the time slot right before the noon news will be basically free of pestilence. Isn't the news depressing enough, without an hour of Ms. O'Donnell to start the afternoon off on the wrong foot?
Finally, I must no longer boycott my favorite news channel. Finally, I am free to resume my relationship with ABC. Finally, I am free to purchase an overpriced ticket at the Magic Kingdom and once again rub shoulders with the great unwashed and sweaty masses.
I have already contacted WFTV with the good news. They were thrilled I am returning.
Speaking of 'horrors' (and we were), last Sunday, Marsh and I went to see UCF's Conservatory Theatre presentation of Rocky Horror Show. It was fabulous and a prime example of me possibly not using good judgement when it comes to one of my kids.
Marsh had a blast!
In my strictly unbiased, uneducated opinion, UCF's Rocky Horror was much better than the movie.
It amazes me that after all these years (The Rocky Horror Show opened in London initially, on June 19, 1973), The Show still has a huge fan basis like this club in the UK.
When asked by his friend, Kira, why he hadn't 'dressed up' for The Show, Marsh mused, "I guess I could have worn Dad's red sequined dress and Mom's black fishnets..."
Finally, the time slot right before the noon news will be basically free of pestilence. Isn't the news depressing enough, without an hour of Ms. O'Donnell to start the afternoon off on the wrong foot?
Finally, I must no longer boycott my favorite news channel. Finally, I am free to resume my relationship with ABC. Finally, I am free to purchase an overpriced ticket at the Magic Kingdom and once again rub shoulders with the great unwashed and sweaty masses.
I have already contacted WFTV with the good news. They were thrilled I am returning.
Speaking of 'horrors' (and we were), last Sunday, Marsh and I went to see UCF's Conservatory Theatre presentation of Rocky Horror Show. It was fabulous and a prime example of me possibly not using good judgement when it comes to one of my kids.
Marsh had a blast!
In my strictly unbiased, uneducated opinion, UCF's Rocky Horror was much better than the movie.
It amazes me that after all these years (The Rocky Horror Show opened in London initially, on June 19, 1973), The Show still has a huge fan basis like this club in the UK.
When asked by his friend, Kira, why he hadn't 'dressed up' for The Show, Marsh mused, "I guess I could have worn Dad's red sequined dress and Mom's black fishnets..."
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Welcome Baby Reese
Last Tuesday, we welcomed Reese Parker Beery to the world and our TMA family.
Her dad, Matt, is a teacher at our school and a fabulous trumpet player. (Hence the pink rabbit playing the trumpet for those of you still confused).
Our theme colors were bright pink and lavendar. Mrs. Schultz sent in delicious cookies, Mrs. Litzell helped dice up the cake and Miss Matz let us borrow her room. Thank you, ladies!
Reese's mom, Amber, graciously allowed her to be passed around for high school students to hold. Brave Mom, you have no idea where those students have been!
Mr. Beery explained how difficult it can be getting up every two hours each night while still holding down a job.
Big brother, Jackson, enjoyed the baby cake, entertained easily distracted students and played with the balloons. After the party, we crammed all of the balloons into his mom's car along with fourteen pieces of extra well-iced cake. I bet THAT was a great ride home!
Ryan and Missi are happy to hold precious Reese, but thankful that come diaper changing time, neither will be anywhere near the baby.
The Happy Beery Family! We love you, Matt, Amber, Jackson and Baby Reese.
Jackson says that if the baby behaves, she can stay around the house a little longer.
Best Wishes Beery Family.
Last Tuesday, we welcomed Reese Parker Beery to the world and our TMA family.
Her dad, Matt, is a teacher at our school and a fabulous trumpet player. (Hence the pink rabbit playing the trumpet for those of you still confused).
Our theme colors were bright pink and lavendar. Mrs. Schultz sent in delicious cookies, Mrs. Litzell helped dice up the cake and Miss Matz let us borrow her room. Thank you, ladies!
Reese's mom, Amber, graciously allowed her to be passed around for high school students to hold. Brave Mom, you have no idea where those students have been!
Mr. Beery explained how difficult it can be getting up every two hours each night while still holding down a job.
Big brother, Jackson, enjoyed the baby cake, entertained easily distracted students and played with the balloons. After the party, we crammed all of the balloons into his mom's car along with fourteen pieces of extra well-iced cake. I bet THAT was a great ride home!
Ryan and Missi are happy to hold precious Reese, but thankful that come diaper changing time, neither will be anywhere near the baby.
The Happy Beery Family! We love you, Matt, Amber, Jackson and Baby Reese.
Jackson says that if the baby behaves, she can stay around the house a little longer.Best Wishes Beery Family.
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