Impressions

Three to six.... I was nervous.... so were they...... but all for nothing.... it was like a super sized play date.

I'm joining my good friend, Mamabyrd, in her Friday 'Impressions' posts.  She's opening up this part of her blog to anyone who would like to participate.  Just leave a link to your blog or website in the comments.  If something in your week left an impression on you, feel free to share it here or there.

Mom's Impression

I glance at the calendar, February 27^th, another year gone by, are we already at three?  I reactively swallow, attempting to rid myself of the familiar lump in my throat, a lump that’s seemingly smaller with each passing year.  I wonder, will someday there be no lump to swallow, and when it’s gone will I miss it?

‘This house is no longer part of where I’m going… I’m ready…. ready to move on to the next stage of my life.’  So with no final look, the last box was loaded, and you ‘moved on’, leaving behind the place you’d called home for the last 30 years.  Your statement so tense and abrupt, until you reached the last words then they seemed to softened almost as if you’d found your peace.  It was those words that haunted me the weeks following your death.  Where exactly did you think you were going, and to what stage were moving on to…. Did you sense something coming that we all missed?  

It would explain so much if you did.  Finances in order, belongings sorted, thinned, boxed, and stored, home sold, no loose ends.  You’d taken care of us until your very end, nothing left to worry about but casket color, flower choices….. and…. one more.  Your promised plan, can you remember?  

He tearfully said it over and over, 'Mom this is a really sad day.'

Dear Nana, I love you!  I will miss you forever and ever.  -Jo

It was going to be so simple, just one bus stop earlier would leave him just a few footsteps from your front door, the front door we’d found just a couple of blocks from our own, one that could serve as your new address until we figured out the rest.  You’d have a quick visit, maybe a snack, and then send him on his way, while you both excitedly awaited to repeat the same the next day.  He still mentions your plan, ‘It’s not fair, is it mom, we didn’t even get a chance to try.’  Right Jo, not fair, not fair at all.  One night is not enough, not for him, not for us, and not for you, you were ready and wanting a new phase, a phase filled with visits from grandchildren in a small mountain town.    

Your impression on him is so strong.  He remembers so well, your costumes, your games, your affection, all of you.   Jonas and you…. like two peas in a pod.  He was the reason we grew so close.  So close, could I say that we’d become best friends?  No, not quite, I think we all know who really shared that title.  Given your age difference it was eerily strange how much you two had in common.  I watch with curious observant eyes as your presence still loiters in his actions. 

Professor Trelawney, she spent a couple hours casting spells and telling fortunes for small children

A black widow, brewed some potions and shot her silly string spider webs to all who enter her spook lair

Mother Nature, called upon the winds and enchanted little ones who littered

 

Word mix ups, a need to lead while in play, even his shared taste in worn Christmas attire, all inspired by your presence.  His intense teasing, something we all fall victim to, yes I blame you for this too.  Do you remember the relentless teasing game you’d play?  The one where he’d plead for you to stop, if only his eyes, and smirking smile, weren’t telling you something different.   And there is only one who he could possibly inherit those nonsense words and unreachable disposition when he does get angry.   What about his desire to love and help others?  So often he jumps at the opportunity to serve those in need.  Much like the stories that flooded my mailbox in card and letter form after your death.  Your caring actions inspired so many to write, a desire for them to share their story of your acts of kindness.  Beautiful words from beautiful people, telling me beautiful things, things that I already knew.  What a beautiful impression you have made.   

  

You always did have a way of making an impression.  Maybe it was your outspoken ways, or possibly your outfit of choice. It could have been your strong drive and ambition, and then there was your temper, darn it if it didn’t get the best of you sometimes.  But what about your intense desire to mother and love, always the first to offer a helping hand.  Up for any challenge, didn’t know the words ‘I quit’, the impossible was only a trial, one you’d eventually conquer.  

So I'm not judging, I wear yoga pants almost every day, but tiger strips and track pants, kind of a weird combo.... right?

I was the one that would dispute your outspoken words, struggle with your drive and ambition, judge your outfit choices, and often argue with that impressionable temper of yours.  Of these things I am not proud, for I was the one that you mothered and loved, the one that you’d first extend a hand to.  It was I that leaned on you, as you whispered ‘Never ever give up!’, words of encouragement  when the trial before me seemed unbeatable.  But are these the things of your impression?  

Maybe for some, but not me, your left impression is far more precious.  An amazing mother, absolutely, I follow your example every day, but it was your role as a grandmother that is the shadow left upon my heart.  A grandmother that books are written, and movies are made.  A grandmother that no other can be, you’ve left shoes behind that sadly are too big to fill. 

She'd happily hold this 'frustrating, screaming, nothing can make him happy' baby for hours, something most could only tolerate for a few moments

I share your stories with my boys, I’ll ‘Never ever give up!’, they’ll never ever forget their ‘Nana’.   Abe, only a baby when you left us, giggles at my descriptions.  Sol smiles and nods as if he remembers, although I think it’s only the stories he remembers, he too was very young.  But Jonas, oh how he remembers, he is the one reminding me of forgotten moments.  For him your impression will linger always, his ‘lump’ will never fade.  So do I know what his remembered impression is…… of course I do..... can you not see..... it is so simple..... for it is the same as mine.

My Amazing Franklin D. Roosevelt

Sure we all know that he was wheelchair bound because of his bout with polio, and that he was the president responsible for the New Deal, but did you know that he had a stamp collection totaling over a million, or that he traveled everywhere with his little black dog Fala?  What about his sudden death while in office.  Where was he when he met his untimely death, and who was by his side?  He was getting his portrait painted at his retreat in Warm Springs, Georgia, and it wasn't his strong and ambitious wife Eleanor by his side, but Lucy Mercer, his long time mistress.

I realized a couple of years ago that Jo loves to act.  Give him a character and he completely embraces it.   I don't see us ever sitting in the bleachers chanting 'Jonas, Jonas, Jonas!',  as my skinny boy graciously scores the winning goal or basket.  But where do I see us possibly chanting a hushed 'Jonas, Jonas, Jonas!'?  In a darkened theater, proudly watching my quick witted son give life to his given character.  So with an assigned presidential oral report required in his 3rd grade class, Jo has excitedly prepared for his next staring role.

After some character research Jo decided what facts to present in his F.D.R. performance.  His opening scene finds him in his wheelchair with his little dog Fala on his lap, completely engrossed in his stamp collection.... 'Oh, so sorry, I didn't notice you there,  I was just looking at some of my favorite stamps, you see I love stamp collecting.......  Please excuse me for not getting up, since my bout with polio my lower half has been a bit.... Lazy.'  He then tells the audience to close their eyes and imagine going back in time, 'Don't be afraid, for the only thing we have to fear, is fear itself.'  They take a trip back in time, to a time when our wealthy, adulterer, Mama's Boy, F.D.R. was president.  He then flawlessly performs his presidential role, complete with a few side of the mouth secret sharing, like when he randomly whispers.... 'I'm rich!', or while reminiscing about his wedding day he murmurs.... 'Don't tell my mom but I don't think she was quite ready to let me go, maybe that's why her and my wife Eleanor don't get along very well.'  

Before it was all over he'd encouraged his stuffed dog to do a few tricks, joked about being the 'Most Popular President' (only president to serve four terms), and left a subtle undertone of his troubled marriage ('Mom, what's a mistress?).  He did manage to put in a few lines of all the necessary personal, family, and presidential facts.  But it was his dramatic ending that was the clincher, he bids farewell and explains he's on his way to his portrait painting appointment.....then he grabs his head and exclaims, 'Oh my, I don't know if I'm just tired, but suddenly I'm not feeling so well, I feel a terrible headache coming on.'

(sign #1) F.D.R. died that same day while getting his portrait painted.  His 'terrible headache' was a stroke.  He was 63 years old.  (sign #2) And for those of you wondering, his little dog Fala died 7 years later at 12 years old.  He was buried near F.D.R.  (sign #3)  THE END.

He held up those signs proudly, he'd given the performance of a lifetime.

(sign #1) I am so proud of Jonas and his ability to learn, perform, and entertain........  (sign #2) He not only learned from his presidential research, but was also totally interested in the fact that both Pineview Damn and Snowbasin were built as a result of Roosevelt's New Deal....... (sign #3)  THE END

Arrrrrrrrrrr!

In the basement it was Princess Pirate, her First Mate, and their tiny plastic baby, sliding and spinning.  Upstairs it was some serious Power Ranger play for four ninja pirates.  And pacing from upstairs to down, was two skull wearin' little ones, undecided on which play was more fun.  In all there was eight completely lost in play.  Sure, their was homework to be done, messes to clean, and dinner to eat, but as I listened to Jo sweetly sing to his baby 'Hush little baby don't ye cry Daddy's gonna buy ye a...... skeleton hand for your colleeeeeccctiooooon, Arrrrrr!', I couldn't break up all the silly fun.

We have some exciting house guests this week, I've double the amount of children I have overnight.  With best friend parents on vacation we've transformed a bedroom for three into a bedroom for six.  What busy fun it's been for us all, and I can't think of a better way to keep away the homesick blues than staying busy.  Our amazing library gave us the perfect busy activity tonight, a chance to meet a real pirate, and learn the tricks of the trade.  Oh what to wear?

Problem solved, with a bit of stash searching I was able to find what I needed to make six almost matching pirate vests.  My heart swelled at the excited gratefulness of all six wee mateys.  There was a few hectic moments when I realized a couple of friends had joined them on the walk home from the bus stop, but after six, really what's a couple more?

 We set sail, and after receiving our pirate names (a little abbreviating), Squidlips, Captain, Fluffbucket, Mad Gold, Spike, Mad Bones, and Matey Squiffy,  the rest of our evening was filled with games, stories, map making, and some booty huntin'.  The man behind it all made the night truly magical.  He patiently answered every question and absorbed every silly comment, all in true pirate fashion.

It wasn't without some challenges but we did it..... we ate, we studied, we cleaned, and most importantly we played.  We even made it to our pirate training session with a few minutes to spare, and perfectly dressed for the occasion too.  Worth every challenged moment...... especially when I overheard one sleepy phone conversation, 'And guess what...... he was the real Captain Jack Sparrow.....'
                              

G'nightfall me sleepy lassies, I be wishin' ye slumberin' well!

Impressions

He was right, smooth roads are great, but it's the rough mountain roads that take us to the most amazing places.

I'm joining my good friend, Mamabyrd, in her Friday 'Impressions' posts.  She's opening up this part of her blog to anyone who would like to participate.  Just leave a link to your blog or website in the comments.  If something in your week left an impression on you, feel free to share it here or there.

For Their Own Good

'Our only real goal for 2014, is to be a healthier family. ' my exact words, and with that I think that will be my first and last time I ever announce my New Year goal.  Am I cursed?  Since the moment I uttered those words we've been plagued with all things unhealthy.  It's been weeks since I've had a peaceful night sleep due to the constant sneezing, sniffling, coughing, hacking, gagging, and crying from at least one little bed (or big).

So this weekend with one man too sick to leave the house, and despite the fact it was raining, in February, in the mountains, in our little town, I announced to the boys we were doubling up on layers and playing outside.  When the boys questioned me on my decision because of the rain.....

'Well, then wear you galoshes instead of your boots, because we're going out, and it's for your own good.' 

And boy was it.  Yes we were all soaked within a matter of minutes, and yes the snow was horrible for fort building.  But nope our fort did not fall over, and nope I didn't feel bad being the first to come back inside, I'd left three brothers happily playing and fort building outdoors in the crusty wet snow.  It really was for their own good, we'd avoided another weekend cooped up indoors while one family member or another was recovering.

They enjoyed their outdoor rainy adventure in snow fort building.   On Monday when I suggested we dig out a couple of bikes and explore our snowy neighborhood on two wheels, it was only Monte I had to tell 'Come on, it'll be for your own good.'  
 
We've had some other choices that have been for 'our own good'.  Jonas has finally taken an interest in chores and is trying to save for some sort of extravagant electronic device he saw at a friends house.  He thinks in about a month he'll have enough saved for his several hundred dollar purchase, $100 = 2000 chores given our average pay scale, I'm staying positive he may surprise me.  Interest in chores..... definitely for his own good.

Abe also has informed me that he's now way too big to wear his 'safety diaper' to bed.  He can have his wish, but I've been peed on enough to know that this means it's time for some serious stay in your own bed encouraging.  Staying in his own bed..... for his own good..... right?  I've even done some serious evaluating and made some decisions that I know are for my own good.

Maybe Monte's cold will be the last one for the season?  I doubt it.... so in the mean time, go play outside even if it's cold, snowy, and raining.... be motivated and optimistic about the change you find in the couch..... and don't drink too much water before bed it's never fun to wake up wet and alone..... whatever it is believe me it's all for your own good.      

Loved Baby Wrap

Look what I found tucked in a basket while cleaning my front porch this afternoon.......

It may look like a heap of green fabric, but it's far more than that.  The realization that it has been out of sight and somewhat forgotten for so long, tells me I've left another phase of  motherhood behind.  An internal struggle, as I sadly recognize that it has no current occupant, an undeniable fact that my babes are growing up.  

Baby carriers (in both forms) come in all shapes and sizes, but I've found my favorite is the one made from a simple long strip of fabric.  Something so minimal is something so versatile.  With the right wrapping technique you can hold your 40 pound five year old as easily as you can hold your tiny newborn.

My tiny new Abe, so little only a peek of his head could be seen from under the layers of our wrap.                         

My wrap has carried three little ones.  It's stretched and grown as it's occupants have done the same.  It's traveled from shopping centers to mountain tops.  With just a little rearranging it can give even an older child a chance to hitch a ride to rest tired little legs.  It's been a staple with each baby, one that I'm unsure I'm willing to let go.  The few times it's been forgotten it's wrapping techniques have found substitutes in it's place. 

A couple of years ago somehow our baby wrap didn't make the suitcase on a short trip.  However, who knew that on an early morning run I would stumble across a great second hand store just a few short blocks from our hotel.  It never hurts to just take a look?  So with my absent baby wrap in mind I ventured quickly inside.  Within a few moments and I had found the ideal map printed sheet that I knew with some borrowed scissors and some creative tying could be transformed into the perfect wrap for my chubby 10 month old.  (And because I know a few of you that are interested.... other treasures found at that awesome thrift store.... a few pieces of great pottery, a couple of good books, a cool old ice cream scoop, my favorite soft t-shirt, an amazing vintage scale that now proudly hangs as fruit storage in my kitchen, and a couple of pieces of luggage that I realized we'd need to get everything home.  Alright so I might have stopped there more then once on my morning runs, but it was at the perfect turn around point, and I was regretting some left behind ice skates, never to be found again.  Funny when you find some real treasures, carrying armloads of full shopping bags the mile or so back to your hotel isn't all that awkward or difficult.)  Total cost of my homemade Moby Wrap.... $4.  Just a plain strip of fabric?  I was so grateful for it's simplicity as it got plenty of use over the next several days.   

                                         

What a fun find just a short hike off the main road, I think it was even paved, a perfect trail for little legs.

I was glad to find my old green friend, we've shared some great memories.  And after a bit of reminiscing I couldn't resist trying it on, it felt familiar, like an old well loved pair of jeans.  I even had one eager youngster excitedly climb in for a cozy close ride.  Is it time for the cherished baby wrap to join the rest of the treasured sentimental baby heirlooms?  Nope..... not yet..... I think I'll let it 'hang' around a little longer, I'm sure we'll find something to do with it.  

He only relaxed for a minute, then after some intense swinging he decided to climb his wrap hammock to the ceiling, I just pretended not to notice.