Even If I Could

I know my son is thinking
     'stop looking at me like that'
But I can't help it
As he stands tall before me
     taller than me
Holding his college acceptance letter
     torn envelope on the table
Another milestone on the road of motherhood
I see behind us, all the other firsts
     first smile, first tooth, first word, first step
And I see this new first
     another milestone on my road to letting go
     a growing up son
          almost grown son
I know through my tears and smiles
    and very tight hugs
He's standing there thinking it, but not saying it,
     'stop looking at me like that'
I can't.  And I wouldn't
    even if I could.

Unalterable Truth

Oh my Child!

Chase your dreams

Right up to the Stars

Make friends with the Sun and the Moon

Know their light and their shadow

And have no fear of either

Build your castles of words

Until they fill your soul and

Burst free to land gracefully on your blank pages

Know this truth

This unalterable true thing:

I Believe in You.

Living The Sweet Relish Life

There was a time in my younger life where I wouldn't have touched sweet pickles or their relish with a ten foot pole.  I was a dill pickle girl all the way and firmly believed that relish should be salty and dilly.

But that has all changed and I only want sweet relish.  A hot dog isn't as good without the sweet stuff and a ton of ketchup.

Today I went home for lunch and it was cold and rainy and I had to put drops in Emma Beagles eyes and I just wanted a treat, like a sandwich with tuna and mayo and sweet relish.

It was so good, I savored every single bite, slowly eating while my dogs sat at my feet ever hopeful.  They were disappointed because I did not want to share a crumb.

The younger me would have picked and nibbled and made a mess but not really eaten that sandwich.  Sweet relish in tuna?  What's next?  Miracle Whip?

Hmmmm.....Miracle Whip......now there's an interesting idea!

My Grandparents

In our family, when we refer to "the picture of Grandma and Grandpa" we are talking about this picture:

My grandparents got married young, when getting married young was the thing to do.  They worked hard, raised 4 kids, and grew together in such a way, each of their grandchildren and great grandchildren look to them as an example of how to do it right.

At their 40th anniversary, I broke with grandchildren tradition and didn't sing in the program we put on (frankly, I'm a terribly singer and I couldn't do it one more time).  Instead I wrote them a poem about their wonderful love.

At their 50th anniversary, I relented and stood with my cousins and our kids and sang that old classic, "A Mother was Chasing her Boy 'Round the Room," made a classic to us because Grandpa used to sing it to us.  I personally have sung it hundreds of times to my children and nephews and niece.

At their 60th anniversary, and every year since then, we all gather and eat and laugh and play and tell stories and count our blessings....the blessings that started with these two kids.

This post inspired by prompt #3 at Mama's Losin' It!

Linking up with TidBit Thursday.

Back To The Walking Way Of Life

My ankle is fully healed and my head is staple free and I've re-committed to walking daily.  It's a pretty hard commitment   What was once so easy to do, was second nature, is now an undertaking I have to seriously motivate myself to follow through.

As I hit the sidewalk with three crazy eager dogs, I thought of a few things I should remember as I get ready for walking each day.

1. Make sure the coffee is hot and ready to drink when I get home.  That promise of coffee is better than a carrot dangling on a stick.

2. Put my gloves in my pocket.  I may not think I need them, but that's the day my fingers will feel like frozen fish sticks before I get home.

3. Make sure my pants are not inside out.  That should be an easy one, but I swear I made sure I was putting my exercise pants on right, and two blocks in to the walk I realized I had most definitely not.

Although, if I just keep the coffee one as a rule, the promise of hot coffee to warm my frozen fingers and the embarrassment of  inside out pants really does eliminate any slow walking!

Six Words

Painting trees on a nephews wall.

How I spent my Saturday!

It Could Have Been Worse

I could have splattered my second change of clothes with toothpaste.
I could have slipped in a puddle of water in the break room.
I could have forgotten about my emergency granola bar in my purse.
I could have had a hole in more than just my tights.

I did squirt hand soap on my first outfit, just as I was running out to work.
I did almost fall on the sidewalk, tripping for no reason other than that's the way I do things.
I did forget to eat breakfast and by mid morning was starving.
I did wear the exact same color sweater as a co-worker, so we were almost identical (she had a scarf and I did not).

But, it could have been much worse.  When I think of all the 'could haves' I find myself thinking I came out of the day pretty well.  It's days like these that I'm so glad my husband is a Monty Python fan.....

There is no way I can think the words 'always look on the bright side' without smiling and wanting to whistle!

To My Valentines

My valentine to you

Doesn't have red hearts or ribbons

Or paper doilies, glue or glitter

My valentine to you

Is all my love and hopes and dreams

My pride and joys and points between

My valentine to you

Isn't just this one day

It's every day, all year.

Six Word Saturday

My "baby" is learning to drive!

The Story Of Your Name

Once, years ago, my daughter came home from her first day of school and said in one class they'd had to share about themselves: their favorite color, book, movie, how they got their name....That's a weird question. How they got their name. But I smiled waiting for my daughter to tell the story, and she said she just shrugged.  She had no idea where her name came from.

What the heck?!!! She really doesn't know?

Well, let me tell you both, my wonderful, much loved children, the story of your name......

My son, my first born, your story isn't as exciting as it is about how I knew my first son would be named after my father. It had been a wish I'd had since I was little, a boy to name Allen David. Then I met your dad, and his family tradition is to give every boy the middle name Allen. He would not budge on that. And before we were even married, when we were first engaged, it is a point I gave up. And I am so glad I did. You were David Allen before you were born, years before, and the moment I saw you, I knew your dad had been right. You are David, and you are perfect.

My daughter, your story involves an ultrasound and breakfast at the Bluebird. My pregnancy with you was harder, with more bed rest and contractions and a general feeling of this isn't going to be quite as easy as the first time. So at our second ultrasound, while Grandma watched your brother and your dad sat with me holding my hand, the tech asked if we wanted to know the sex of the baby. With your brother, we waited to be surprised, but with you we said yes. Please tell us! The chance of you being a girl was 80%. I'll take those odds! We retrieved your brother and the three of us went to the Bluebird for breakfast. As we sat there, your Dad and I couldn't stop smiling. A girl! We really only had a boy name picked out. I remember thinking of girl names, discarding the one we'd picked out if David had been a girl, and I finally said I like the name Leah. Your Dad instantly agreed. I said it over and over in my mind and I knew, if you were a girl, you would be Leah. And after some consideration, we gave you a middle name that has family ties, we named you Leah Catherine after Grandma Mary Catherine.

Even now, going on 18 and 16 years since I felt your fluttery kicks beneath my hands, when I wondered who you were going to be and how this whole separate person growing inside me would work, I love your names.  To me you will always be David and Leah, and if you adopt nicknames as you grow, or shorten your names to Dave and Lee, you will always be David and Leah to your mother!

A Leaf In Winter

Twice this week, leaves have given me a fright.

I know, a leaf?  Even a pile of leaves shouldn't be frightening.

But twice this week, as I was out walking, a small brown thing moved with startling swiftness on the ground, with enough life and energy in it's movements, that I was positive I was about to walk by a bird.  A small bird, for some reason not frightened off into flight by my approach, which means it is either injured (my heart breaks even for injured birds) or it has rabies.

I'm going to side with the rabies theory every time.  Don't hassle me with the arguments that birds aren't mammals and therefore can't get rabies.  It's my theory and I'm sticking with it.

So there I am, walking by the rabid bird disturbingly staying put in the grass, when I realize it's not a bird.

It's just a leaf in winter, brown and brittle, doing a surprisingly dead on bird impersonation.

Who wants to hear my theory on rabid winter leaves?

The Reason I Ate 2 Cookies

I know, I know.  I ate two cookies at work.  I walked in this morning, the staff room counter heaped high with golden discs of glory, and I resisted.  I said no thank you.  I declined.   I felt strong in my word and sticking with my goals.

And then I saw the most disgusting giant moth.....seriously, it was the size of a dessert plate....or a 50 cent piece, and it was casually hanging out on the ceiling of the hallway that I must walk through numerous times a day.

I, shockingly, uttered the seldom heard phrase, "sweet merciful gravy" which goes to show how mixed up I was with terror and the heebee jeebees, that I couldn't even formulate a common exclamation of shock like, "gee whiz" or "good golly".

I had to lean pretty far off the side of my chair to see that particular ceiling tile from my desk, but let me reassure you, lean I did.  All morning long.  As I would walk through the hall, I kept my eyes on the invader, just to make sure it stayed put and didn't decide to take my walking under it as a sign to move.

A broom was suggested.  "Just knock it down, Michelle."  Um, no thanks.  What if it fell on me?  What would I do then?  Probably die, after screaming and dancing around like a lunatic.

So it remained, the keeper of the hallway and my resistance to cookies crumbled.  As in, if I had that place of cookies closer, I'd have eaten another two.  Or three.

Towards the end of the day, I was sitting at my desk, worrying about how it would spend the night in the office, probably moth goobering up the place, when a co-worker saw it, and knocked it down and took it out.

I didn't scream when it decide to fly a little after it was moved from the ceiling before it was caught, but I did move as far away from the situation as I could.

And then, of course, I felt bad for the little thing.  Outside is a cold, cold place.  It was just trying to find a little warmth and companionship.  If only it hadn't tried to find it in our office!

To Judge Or Not To Judge

I always look at what fellow shoppers are buying as they place their items on the belt behind me.  I'm not judging, exactly, their grocery purchases, I just find it completely fascinating.  Which has led me to believe that other people find my shopping cart just as fascinating.  I'm always very pleased when my groceries are healthy and show a well rounded diet.

If I'm buying 18 yogurts, well, they were on sale.  And I love yogurt.

But sometimes when I'm caught with a cart holding a 24 pack of Dr. Pepper and two 40 oz jars of PB, one creamy, one crunchy, and I'm actively shopping the clearance meats, well, then I'm less pleased.  I want to say, don't judge this cart,  it's not what it looks like.

Who am I kidding?  It's exactly what it looks like.  I'm going into a weekend with a house crammed full of teenagers, who love soda and PB, and stay for dinner unexpectedly so I need to have extra always on hand.

When the kids got home from school Friday afternoon, the pop cans were popped, and the PB jars were opened, and spoons dived in.

I guess I forgot to buy bread!

Six Word Saturday

Husband + me + errands - kids = a date.