Angel's thoughts

End of Summer Celebration

Mon, 01 Sep 2008 03:42:46 GMT

We had a chance to go to Newport tonight to watch the WEBN Fireworks. Directly across from the Catholic High School was the Ohio River and the Fireworks......directly to my right was a man in dread locks, holding the most magnificent babies I have ever laid my eyes on. PROFESSIONAL PHOTOGRAPHY EQUIPMENT. He had about 3 Nikons, ALL bigger and Professional~
I handed Eddie my purse, as I sauntered over to him, and screamed in his ear...."HEY! COULD I TOUCH YOUR EQUIPMENT?" Then that man slapped me right there, in front of the loud AMP that was playing nothing less than a WEBN classic, Ozzy Osborne.
I reiterated my question, this time POINTING at his equipment......"The CAMERA'S man!!!....What are these things? Oh? Well, tell me, oh magical professional camera using man? What setting should I put my dinky little Nikon D80 on, for the fireworks?" And he told me. Then he backed that up with totally contrasting information. He was probably scared I'd get a better shot than him. Because, nothing says PRO, like holding a camera and 2 kids screaming they hafta to GO PEE.....now.

Anyway......guess how many pictures I took? 157 or something crazy close to that.But here's 17 of those 157 photographs. I'm sparing you the agony......

WEBN is the Cincinnati area rock station. I never listen to it, and I've never been to the fireworks. We usually watch them on TV, because it's unbelievable the amount of people that head down to the OHIO RIVER, some on the Ohio side, some on the Kentucky side, and the boaters ON the river. It was, by far, BETTER than TV.

They mentioned tonight, that this year, the Military Channel (didn't know that existed) was carrying the fireworks live, for "OUR" boys over seas. I swear, I felt so patriotic at that moment, kinda like the first time I heard Lee Greenwood sing "I'm Proud To Be An American..."

This celebration marks the anniversary of the radio station, but has continued now for a couple of decades, as the mark of the end of summer. Kinda hard to believe summer is over.

testing Video upload

Sat, 30 Aug 2008 12:40:28 GMT

Testing uploading a video. Sorry if you got alerts on this.

Homework for TV and Communication Class.......Had to tell a story related to sports~

Conversations

Sat, 30 Aug 2008 01:39:24 GMT

"Don't you think the last two years have gone fast?"

"Depends on what day you ask me. Some days, I can't believe it's been two years and some days, I can't BELIEVE it's been two years...if that makes sense?"

"I think about us sitting in that room......"

"The room where we wrote out her obituary for the paper?"

"Yeah. And your brother asked me kinda sternly....'What do you think, Eddie?' I just remember thinking, these are not my decisions and I still don't understand WHY he asked ME~"

"I dunno. Who knows? No one knows."

"The whole thing still seems surreal. Walking around the funeral home, you choosing her outfit, you choosing the photo for the paper.....and picking out the coffin...."

"Funny. When I think back, I remember THESE days, 2 years ago. Her last walk in the sunshine and not being able to breathe. The people. ALL the frickin' people in and out of the house. Each coming to say their good-byes. The hospice nurse, asking her if she was 'ready', and my interpretation of it, as in.....she was ready to PRAY....not ready to DIE."

"There were so many people here that I didn't know."

"I know. People from our past. People related to Daddy's side of the family. People we hadn't seen in years."

We both fall into our own quiet contemplation of the week leading up to her death date. The house was full, constantly....So much so that at moments, I wished everyone would just leave. Leave me to be alone with her.

"What do you call it? Anniversary doesn't seem right."

"It's the anniversary of her death."

"Just doesn't seem appropriate."

"Last year, I called it her 'Re-Birth day'."

"It just seems like it all went so fast. One minute she wasn't sick, then next she was dying."

"10 months, 6 days. "

He looks away, staring off into his own memory again, and I watch him remember her in his own mind. He talks of the day he coached the game for his daughter and brought Mom back her favorite foods....Fried Apples, Dumplins......and I sit staring into my own mind. I can see her face look up at him from her chair, as she pulls the oxygen mask from her face, to thank him. Her eyes are welling with tears, over the gesture, and his eyes well, over her gratitude. I watch them both and wonder if she'll be capable of eating any of it. She hasn't eaten anything in a couple of days now, but before evening falls she tries to take a few bites.

She is surrounded in these last days by everyone that loved her. People walk in and out of rooms, searching, crying, hiding their own emotions. No one cries in front of her. She talks out of her head, and makes sense all at the same time. She never ceases to amaze me, even in these, her final days.

"If you took your Mother out of the equation, what would be your memory from 2 years ago?"

"My Mother was the EQUATION, Eddie. There is nothing other than Mom from 2 years ago. I don't recall basketball games. I don't recall anything, but Mom. Ironically, when I think of two years ago, my memories are of the last days, not the first ones after she passed."

"Doesn't it seem odd, that under normal circumstances, you'd not be able to remember things so vividly? But with your Mom sick......everything is in MEMORY?"

"Not really. And maybe yes. I don't know. I just know, it's been 2 years of a life without her. And two years of nothing BUT memories."

She walks outside at my urging to have a look. Alyssa has caught a Monarch butterfly and it sits poised on her fingers, content. Mom musters her best enthusiasm, oohing and ahhing over the tameness of it all. It seems surreal, as well. Alyssa places her hand close to her Granny's, and I lift Mom arm to meet her. The butterfly jumps onto Mom's hand and it send the kids into joyous laughter. They watch as it sits on her finger for a few seconds before leaving and flying in circles, until it lands again on Alyssa's finger.

She's having trouble breathing and tell me she can't stay in the heat. I stand up next to her, and walk with her back into the house. She has exhausted herself.

These are the memories I have. The planning of the funeral will always stay with me, but it's the last days of LIFE, that I remember the most. Some of those last moments, well, I sometimes wish they didn't plague my mind and heart. The last moments she was living and those first moments when her heart stopped. They stay with you forever.

I've written so much here, about those moments, literally, before she passed on, that I feel as if it's all a rerun. Nothing changes and everything changes.

Eventually, I hope to have her video on here or youtube. I just can't seem to get it to upload.

On a side note, I don't mean to be morbid and a "downer", so to speak. She's heavy on my mind this week, of course~and although my heart misses her everyday, it's this time of year that will seem to plague me for a while.

Angel

Cows

Tue, 26 Aug 2008 23:20:19 GMT

"..............So, I says to her, 'He ain't your BULL he's my Bull..." And she says..."He ain't your bull, he's my bull...." So I says to her......"Back off sister....I said he IS MINE...."

And you know what she says next?

Calls me a big ol' Heifer~the nerve, wouldn't ya believe?

So's........ya know what I do?......... I called her a big ol COW!

That'll teach her. Ain't nothin worse that being called that in the bovine land.

(Thank you all......for the comments yesterday. I'm feeling emotionally better, but I have a bit of that emotional hangover!)

Photo of a cousin's pet cow.....and by the way, ALL his cows, and sheep, and goats, and chickens.....PETS.....

Hear Today

Mon, 25 Aug 2008 16:24:41 GMT

I can feel it in the back of my throat. Welling up, tightening. Then I swallow hard, to suppress. Not the time, nor the place, to let it flow.

It doesn’t take much today. It’s been going on for the last 3 days and I have been throwing it to the wind. It’s hormones, I tell myself. I know better, and you probably do too.

I’m leaning over the deck, looking at the grass below, and realize how dry this summer has been. Like last year. The grass is turning brown in spots, left untouched by the water that overflows from the slip-n-slide, the kids have used all summer. Alyssa used her allowance to buy a new one, as the one from last year had dry rot from the heat. One thought leads to another and I realize, in some way or form, the death around me, even in form of summertime toys. It won’t be long before the leaves start their descent to the ground, and the world around me slowly dies for the winter.

I don’t know the date today, without opening my cell phone. But I know it’s close. In 2 more Saturdays, we’ll head home. There’s a wedding to attend, one that I have been asked to be the wedding coordinator. She was my flower girl when I married the first time and I can’t believe that time has flown so quickly by and it’s her turn.

I have no idea why she asked ME. I mean, it could simply fall under, family obligation, so to speak. The thoughts that keep crossing my mind are endless, and the questions, never really mattered anyway. I’ll be there, to tell her when it’s time for my cousin, her Father, to walk her down the aisle, and I’ll still feel it in the back of my throat.

I half wonder, if it’s to keep me busy, to keep my mind from the realization of the date. Nothing could keep my mind from it. Nothing.

I can cry the unfairness of it all. But I stifle my emotions. These are the moments when I could run, far away, from everyone, from EVERYTHING. There’s no escape, right? It goes with ME, no matter how much distance I put between myself and anything she touched.

It’s still not fair.

My tears well up in my eyes, because, I know. I choke on my own heart. She should be here, right? I wipe them away, for fear that the youngest of all will notice, as I sit here, remembering. And I swallow again, except this time, it’s thick.

I look up from the keyboard, and I see her photograph I placed at the front door. Subliminally, placed to greet us, and say good-bye as weleave her home. She looks the same at 13 as she did 50 years later.

I know it’s not right, but I’m still mad at God. I’m so mad right this minute, for taking what I had grown to know, as the only soul on this earth, I could trust. She was all I had.

I can’t breathe.

You’d think, after almost 2 years, I could let it go. But Dear God above, I miss her.

I feel the heat in my face, because, of the emotions.

I wish I could walk into the den, and see her sitting in HER chair, with one of the kids in it with her. I wish I could sit across from her, and just listen to whatever she’d have to say. I WISH, I wish, I wish.

I swipe my face and think, why? And, whenever I question the “why’s” to it all, I recap her life in my mind. What did she do, to get to go so early? I realize that answer is so much easier, than the other one. Why HER? WHY, in God’s name, CANCER? Could You have not let her come to You in some other WAY? Why, the suffering? Why the pain? Why couldn’t You just let her go to sleep, and never know the increasingly worry, of leaving us? Yeah, God…..I’m still mad.

On September 6th, I’ll be home. I’ll try to schedule my visit with her, before the rest of the family gets there. I just don’t like sharing cemetery time with anyone, when it comes to Mom. I know, it’s selfish~

Two years without her.

I know this shouldn’t be all about what I NEED. I MISS. I CRY FOR. But it is.

When I planned my wedding to Eddie, it dawned in me no sooner than a week before, I had planned it on the anniversary of my Grandmother’s death. I was so sorry. I felt I had been so selfish, wrapped up in the planning, that I had let that MAJOR detail escape me. Mom never complained. Looking back, I know how hard my wedding day had to be for her.

We set up a small memorial for Granny in the corner of the yard, where each of her remaining children went to, before and after the ceremony. They took pictures of themselves, sitting on the hay bale, with the memorial wreath, and the Angel figurine sitting in the “O” part of the wreath. And I was so UNAWARE.

But I’m aware NOW.

I know my Mom would say, “Go on, now. It’s a joyous occasion, and you should be there to celebrate. Don’t be sad, for me. I’ll be there too.”

I look back over the deck, the yard littered with toys. Dump trucks and Barbie’s, thrown haphazardly and carelessly, from an afternoon of playing.

The swing set she bought for her only grand daughter, rusting. It even, dying, losing it’s luster and ability to occupy my youngest two. Soon, we will take it apart, and leave it on the curb.

Saying good-bye not simply to a piece of playground equipment, but to another part of who she was.

She called me one afternoon, crying. Granny hadn’t been gone but a few months and I was pregnant with Alyssa.

She, like I have been learning to do, was going through her Mother’s clothes, and saying good-bye to the material things Granny left behind. Mom had been doing this in stages, and some days, maybe she only could put one item in a bag for Goodwill. But she had been through the dresser drawers so many times, lifting my Grandmother’s clothing, placing it to her nose, and inhaling all she could. Then, add another item to the bag.

But this day. The day she called me crying, I couldn’t understand her words. She had been through the drawers SO many times, she told me, and never could find it. I questioned “What, Mom? Find WHAT?”

“The pillowcase, Angel. She stitched a pillowcase for Alyssa, in pink….and I found it today. I’ve been through her dresser 25 times, and never saw it until today. It was right there. I don’t know how I looked in that drawer, so many times, and never saw it. It’s almost, like, it just APPEARED there.” That was in 1998~

She got in her car, and brought the pillowcase to me. I never let Alyssa use it. I consider it entirely too precious. It’s folded neatly in the bottom of another drawer now. It’s something tangible, from the woman Alyssa is named after. I do find the irony of my Grandmother’s passing, the same month I became pregnant with Alyssa.

Because life continues on, my emotions are cut short by the questioning 5 year old that happens into the room, every now and then. He has questioned me things I have answers for, some not;

“Mom? Do all wishes come true when you throw a penny into the wishing well at the Chinese restaurant?”

“Oh, Aaron….I’m not sure honey. Sometimes they come true, sometimes, it’s best if they don’t.”

“Well, I don’t know what Alyssa’s wish was, but mine was for Granny to come back. Do you think that wish will come true…..?”

I look at his face, serious. I wonder how of ALL questions this child could ask, right NOW, during my writing of this, would be that?

Then, I wonder if God, knowing my anger, is sending me a message, through my son.

“No matter your grief, nor your anger, I am with you.”

I answer Aaron with the truth. No matter how much my heart breaks for her, I know she is where she is to be.

The rain has started, adding more rust to the swing set. But providing the dead grass with another chance. © Angel

Somewhere Down the Road Amy Grant

So much pain and no good reason why
You've cried until the tears run dry
And nothing here can make you understand
The one thing that you held so dear
Is slipping from your hands
And you say

Why, why, why
Does it go this way
Why, why, why
And all I can say is

[Chorus:]
Somewhere down the road
There'll be answers to the questions
Somewhere down the road
Though we cannot see it now
Somewhere down the road
You will find mighty arms reaching for you
And they will hold the answers at the end of the road

Yesterday I thought I'd seen it all
I thought I'd climbed the highest wall
Now I see the learning never ends
And all I know to do is keep on walking
Walking 'round the bend, saying

Why, why, why
Does it go this way
Why, why, why
And all I can say is

[Chorus]

Why, why, why
Does it go this way
Why, why, why
And all I can say is
All I know to say now

Scar-DEE Cat

Sun, 24 Aug 2008 15:59:24 GMT

While waiting for the bus the other morning, bugs galore were visiting. Maybe YOU know what a couple of these are? Beware, though, one made me scream when I accidentally hit, "View actual pixels"......and my heart is still pounding~

At first, I thought this was a locust/cicada~then it landed and I looked at it from afar, with my lens on telephoto......

Although I have seen this bug before, I can't remember the name of it. It's pretty decent in size and has wings that look like leaves. And lastly, the next one made me holla~as in.....ACCCCKKKKK, as I looked at it on the computer. I am terrified of any of these creatures that have front legs that extend in FRONT of their bodies. The ones that have their legs spread around their bodies, not so much. But man, NOW I have the crawlies~

We have always called these "Funnel Spiders"(although they may be a wolf spider). The web they build is extensive, dense, and LARGE~I have always said, when a spider of this size (I'd estimate him to be roughly the size of a silver dollar, but you won't catch me putting my hand anywhere near him, to get a measurement......but they get huge) comes into the house, it can make the mortgage. I'm moving.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And lastly, remember the picture I took of Alyssa at sunset a few months ago? It's on my sidebar, in her camel suede jacket.......I love that picture! I uploaded it, with the one I took of her on the bench in the backyard, and one other photograph, to the www.Kodakgallery.com site, and ordered 20"x30" posters. They arrived yesterday, and I'm SO HAPPY with the results. Not that I know any extensive amount of knowledge about photography, I do know that, the smaller the mega-pixels, the smaller the best print you can get from them.

My Nikon D80 has 10.2MP, and I love the fact that I can actually get a poster without losing any detail of the picture. Here is the poster print and an 8x10 I printed at home:

You can still even see the cracks in the fence post, weathered a bit over the last 7 years.

I expected the poster to be on flimsy paper as well, but it was on photo paper.

Aaron was upset there were no BIG pictures of him, in the shipping tube. I told him, I'd LOVE to have a poster print of him, to hang in his room, but most of the pictures I get of Aaron, look a bit like this:

I get LOTS of pictures like this.....Attitude. Tired. Not happy.

ANYWAY, I'm thinking this may be a good idea for Christmas this year. Have poster prints made and then framed~not too much on cost either....

{Oh, and that room? That's the room we call "Mom's Room". I doubt I will ever change the decor in there. She loved her formal room~said it reminded her of my Great Grandmother's home.}

My Grandmother

Wed, 20 Aug 2008 17:15:45 GMT

A few months back, I talked about closing this blog down, or going private, etc......I'm still looking into that, but I haven't found a forum that I just LOVE, yet. I created a blog for my immediate and extended family members and love that forum, but thinking ahead, maybe it's not what I really want in the long run, of this blog.

Until I figure OUT things, because I procrastinate, I'll still write here~just not deep issues that plague my brain from time to time.

It's so disheartening to feel the overwhelming need to peck out word after word of what I need to talk about, and not be able to, because a family member decided to nose into your life.

The following is something I did for my family blog. It's nowhere, where I wanted it to be. I had asked for members of my family to contribute to her story, but only 2 people responded. I had hoped to do this for each member of the family, but maybe the fear of me putting the truth in print scared them all away. And I guess it bothers me a bit that I put a lot of effort in this little newsletter, to get NO response/help. I don't need, "Good Job, Angel".......I need facts, and when the elders of the family have no intention of helping out, all that history will be lost. Sadly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eulene~circa mid 1930's

Whenever old pictures come across the desk, I look hard at them. I try to imagine what was going on in the person’s life when their photograph’s are taken. The older the picture, the harder I look and study it. As I stare at my Grandmother’s face, I know the heartache that accompanied her life from stories of old. I know she never had a harsh word for me, or any that left a life-long resounding memory in my mind. She was always happy, always loving. I can’t tell you her real age in this picture, but I study it and see a girl older than her young years. She was having babies at an age I can’t fathom, with a man, whose age I couldn’t IMAGINE. In 1933, she married Kyle and started a life with this man, 24 years her senior.

She’d given birth eight times over in her young early years, and lost one child early in his life. I think sometimes about how young she was, 16 years old and having her first child, and 28 by the time her last child was born. It’s absolutely mind blowing.

She was 49 years old the year I was born. In 2 more years, she’d meet her last grandchild, and have a total of eighteen of us. She’d produced a bloodline of 25 people by 1969. That same year, she laid her husband to rest and for the first time in her life, she was alone.

My most vivid memories of childhood are the trips we took to Granny’s house for Sunday dinner or Christmas. I remember running through the small set of woods adjacent to her trailer and stopping to pop tar bubbles on the road, directly in front of her home.

We produced pretty tight quarters in that small trailer of hers, but honestly, I never remember being crowded. There was plenty of room for all of us, and she welcomed us into her home without fail.

The ultimate memory I have of Granny is when I was pregnant with Andrew. The ultrasound technician had informed me that I was carrying a daughter and as new spread, the baby gifts I received were all pink. Granny had said to no one in particular, “I want a grand baby named after ME! There are boys name after your Papaw, and my Daddy, but none after me…..” And I knew, she was talking to me. Well, that and the fact that I was the only one in the room.

When I went in to have my first child, imagine our (Mom and mine) surprise when Andrew came out. Within just a few days, Granny came to Ashland to meet Andrew, and she said to me, “I thought you were going to name this great-grand baby after me?”

“Granny? I thought the kids in school might make fun of a boy named Eulene”, I answered her. (And) I saw the hurt in her eyes. She’d had a heart attack by then and her first major stroke before Andrew came along, and sometimes her truth spoke. She was disappointed I hadn’t named Andrew after her. I only wish she had been here to meet Alyssa Eulene.

Granny had suffered many things through her eighty years on earth. Yet, she prevailed. They (the Dr.s) called her children in more than once, to tell them, “This is it“~death was upon her…then she’d live another year.

When Ruthie was pregnant with B, Granny went along in the car with them to await the birth of her first grandchild. Granny had been experiencing problems due to a stomach ulcer and it was causing her problems. On the way to the hospital, it was Granny, not RUTHIE, that needed to pull off the road in order to be sick. Ruthie says that despite the fact she felt fairly ill, Granny still made the ride to the hospital and awaited the birth of B.

My cousin B has fond memories as well. Never failing in writing letters to B while in the service, he came to look forward to her consistency in keeping in touch, even when he wasn’t. He says, “The letters always started out the same. ‘It’s 4:30 in the morning and I’m sitting here having a cup of coffee. Do you want a cup?’” B went on to say that it made him feel closer to home when Granny's letters arrived to him.

For some reason, in my memory of stories told, Granny had more house fires than ANY one person should have to endure. When the house across from Little Pearl’s burnt, B remembers the smell and sight of everything Granny had lost in that fire. Later, the community rallied behind her loss, holding an event at the Nonesuch school, with people bringing in replacements. The overwhelming thoughtfulness left an everlasting memory for B.

She endured more than one woman should have to. I know the stories of her own husband attempting to kill her to the stories of a daughter that couldn't’t be controlled told what to do. She had to live with the guilt of burning her youngest daughter with boiling water and the pain of knowing the death of 2 of her children.

I find solace in thinking that this woman came to meet her oldest daughter as she prepared to cross into another world of light.

She was born on September 21, 1918 and died on September 20, 1998, just one day shy of turning 80 years old.

null

Tue, 10 Jun 2008 16:05:17 GMT

Removed ~family vacaction slide show

On Kids talking about Marriage

Mon, 18 Aug 2008 11:51:46 GMT

Yesterday, my brother, SIL and nephews came home for the day. My baby brother turned 39 this past weekend, so we had a small celebration in his honor. We made his favorite foods and I swear, if Nathan's offered a deviled egg eating contest, instead of hot dogs, Brother would surely win.

Andrew stayed home yesterday, for a change. Every spare minute he has is usually spent at the girlfriends house. I even asked my Dad, "Do you think Beth's parents are tired of feeding Andrew yet?" He's a growing 16 year old, and I know how much he eats here~and then thought, maybe I should send Beth's Mom some cash......

Beth spent the whole day with us too. My Dad went to pick her up, as I heard Andrew tell his little sister......"I'm not leaving when it's someone's birthday!" And he said it with such conviction, as if....DUH! Why are you asking such a ridiculous thing. Oh, the love.

ANYWAY, when Beth arrived, looking cute, and Andrew was dressed in his plaid shorts, I thought, yeah, get a picture of them.

I have always thought Andrew was my photogenic kid. He just KNOWS how to flash his best smile, without it looking forced. Alyssa sometimes looks apprehensive when she tries to hard and Aaron gives me that..."Honestly, I hate this, plus you're scaring me", smile.

I took a few pictures of them, and they settled on the deck with me, to chat. Somehow the conversation turned to marriage.

I looked at Beth and asked her~"When are you thinking you may want to get married?" Of course, I only asked this, as they had brought the subject up. They were talking about their futures, her wanting to go to cosmetology school, and Andrew talking of becoming a Firefighter. I had asked where she wanted to go to school, and she explained where the school was, and that she thought she could co-op during her senior year (next year), to get a head start.

"I'd say, 19 or 20 years old...." And think I looked at her for a good minute and a half, before I brought myself out of that trance. Did she just say, she wants to be married to MY son in less that 3 years?

"Really? 19 or 20? That soon?" Then Andrew obviously reading my face, piped up and stated, "I already told her we're not getting married until I have a good job!"

Deep breath. Mind racing. How to handle this. Can't yell, I know where that got my own Mother. Can't be passive, because, I don't want them thinking it's fine and dandy either. So, I did what I do a lot.....just studied them. Sat back, listening to them discuss their future, as if I wasn't sitting there at all.

I'm not SO old, to not remember wanting to marry my high school boyfriend. I'm also OLD enough to Thank God I never did. Why? We changed. We were kids. We grew, and man, we would have fought like crazy. Although I am still friends with him to this day and can read him like a book (which he hates), I'm glad we never married. It would have ended in divorce.

Finally, Beth looks at me and asks, "WHEN do YOU think is a good time to get married?" And the door opened.

"Have you guys looked at the cost of an apartment? You both realize that if you don't go to college, you'll have to carry your OWN health insurance. Have you looked at the cost of THAT, paying straight out of pocket?.............and on and on and on, I went, asking the questions, waiting for their answers.

Eventually my answer to her question was, "I think a good age to get married is when you can afford to support yourself completely."

What they probably heard was......"Have you thought about the cost of blah blah blah.....And do you blah blah blah, does my Mom ever shut up?

When I relayed the story to Eddie, he agreed they are too young, although he married at 19 the first time. I think back to my 19th year and think, WOW! Married. No way, Jose!

My biggest problem is, I heard the 2 of them arguing on the phone the other night, because Andrew kissed another girl when they were "on a break".....(Sees Ross and Rachel in her head). This happened MONTHS ago~and she's still bringing it up. My other problem is, she doesn't want Andrew to be a Firefighter, as she fears for his life. So I turned the table. "What if he thought that being a hairdresser would bring too many male clients into your business and didn't want you to do that?" She answered, "I'd do it anyway." Exactly.

I explained to her that Eddie and I never fight. Do we get aggravated with one another? Absolutely. Beth was astonished when Andrew and Alyssa both answered my question to them of how often do your Dad and I fight~Never.

I think Beth is a great girl, don't get me wrong. I honestly think she a sweet child and in her heart, loves my son. I realize that they could very well last~but I also know, that young romance can dwindle into pure hate for one another.

Nineteen. Or Twenty.

We ended the conversation to go sing Happy Birthday to my lil' brother. The final word was left in the air. I have no clue what will happen in 3 years. I do know this: Andrew is above average in intelligence, but he is a lazy student. My Dad has already told him, that if he throws away his college education, it will more than likely put him in the grave (Because, ya know, my parents took that, "I can make you feel guilty" course for new parents in 1964). Ha, if nothing else works, tell him death is imminent if he rejects college.

Even though I'd LOVE for him to use his BRAIN and go to college, I understand college isn't for everyone. I know that a degree, ANY degree, is better than NO degree. But I consistently see Andrew gearing towards decisions for a career that require no degree.

Another deep breath.

This is one of those entries where my brain doesn't find an end/way to wrap it up/solution. There's no way to know anyway.

When I asked Andrew to close his knees a bit, so the view was of HIM, and not his boxers on his thighs, this is what I got~I don't know. Don't ask me. And the dogs refused to stay out of the picture, and decided bear hugging/fighting was appropriate.

Man. To have flawless skin again~and your whole life ahead of you.

But then again. They both still wear braces, so maybe it's better now~lol

And I just remembered......Andrew told me he would be naming his children Isabella or Jasmine Elizabeth (Elizabeth is another form of Betty, as in my Mom); and for a boy? Adrian. Which led into that whole Rocky moment.

A New School Year

Thu, 14 Aug 2008 01:27:45 GMT

This morning I arose at the LITERAL crack of dawn~

The sun was making it's way into my world as I had my first cup of coffee this early, in a long while. After grabbing a few shots of the morning sky, I returned inside to wake up my first born child. His wake up call comes at 6:00AM during the school year. I woke him up at 5:54AM, and he lovingly told me, I woke him up 6 minutes early. I warned him, "Andrew, my sweet, loving son....I will not be back to insure you have risen. You ARE on your own, DUDE!" With that, he quickly rolled over. And ignored me.

Within 30 minutes he appeared at the breakfast table. He was dressed. I chided my now high school JUNIOR, to remember his lunch money, and did he want Momma to walk him to the school bus. Then he gave me the look:Because, ya know, I was dressed all Momma-eeee~sleep pants, night gown to my knees, and super cool Kentucky Wildcat sweat jacket over it all. Plus, that whole bed head thing.

I watched him greet his friends at the corner while I continued to admire the rising sun.

Watching it rise higher and higher, illuminating the street I live on.

I turned back to the front door as the bus closed it doors on my high school student, thinking for half a second......"Should I run back down the drive-way, waving frantically GOOD BYE, to my first born?" Nah. I went in the house.

A few minutes later, I had to wake child number two. I stopped for another cup of coffee, before heading up the stairs again, only to catch a glimpse of her, already awake. Already dressed. All ready to go!

My only girl discovered "Limited Too" this year. And quite honestly, PLUS, I know I'm a bit biased, but for crying out loud......she looks like a young lady.......and TOO daggone cute!

So her father and I headed to the front porch with her. The sun had made it's complete grand entrance by this time, and her little brother came down to ~~bid her farewell~~ eat Frosted Flakes.

I took a few more pictures of her:I said, HAVE A WONDERFUL FIRST DAY, Alyssa! And this is how she smiled.

Then her father said...."Now hold your hand to your eyes, as if you are looking for the bus to arrive ANY MOMENT, and she did this:

And when she did, Eddie and I said at the same time....Sal-UTE! Hee Haw style. Cause, we're dorks. And she looked at us blankly, because she has no idea what Hee Haw is, and went back to being as normal as she could!

Plus making this face, cause she has dorks for parents.....Sal-UTE!

And time ticked....and ticked.....and where the hell is that bus anyway? We made our way down the drive-way, thinking ANY MINUTE the bus should come......but, it didn't.

By then, Eddie had the camera....and started snapping away:

We stood at the end of the drive-way, waiting. She contemplated everything that could go wrong on her first day of 4th grade, in her NEW school.....and what if no one like her? And I said.....if anyone acts mean to you, just place your hand to your forehead, and say SAL-LUUUTEEEE! really loud, then they will just think you are really weird....but COOL, in an odd sorta way. That's us. Eddie and me. Here for our kids, never to lead em astray. Yeah, she didn't buy it either.

So we waited. For crying out loud. Where is the bus??????

By this time, Aaron had come looking for the 3 of us, complaining his Frosted Flakes were all gone, and carried his cereal bowl, no milk please, outside to show us. Plus, when I opened up these pictures on my computer, I couldn't help but notice that LARGE ORB across my head. Call it a sun spot if you want. I'mcalling it my Mother.

Finally, and folks, I mean finally....the bus shows up............and flies right past our house, doing way over the suggested speed limit of 20 miles an hour. And I think.....My daughter is about to board this space shuttle of a school bus....and she's doin' 40 down the residential street?

As we made the trek to meet the bus, it zoomed on by......

"Alyssa, did you see how FAST that bus was going?"......."Uhm, yeah, hahahahha....Mom? Is it coming back?"

And it did. She boarded the bus and left for her first day.

So, since Aaron was up, he wanted to go to school with Alyssa, but at the last minute, the school declared our neighborhood AFTERNOON Kindergarten. He had been looking forward to boarding that bus WITH his sister, but instead, we readied him later in the morning.

"Aaron? Are you ready for your first day?" He gave me a goofy grin, intertwined his fingers, and popped his knuckles in the process. This is his only identifying habit of nervousness.

"Did you go potty? Because, you MAY be on the bus picking up other kids and not have a bathroom......" "I don't hafta go, Mom".....Then, as the bus FLEW by us a second time, not only did we know it would return, but he had to pee:

So I grabbed his backpack off.....and realized we had approximately 32 seconds before the bus came rip roaring back up the street. No time to run in the house.

He peed in the front yard. Because he's 5, that's why. We tried to convince him to go behind the bushes that line the side of the house, but he's 5. He had to go. Right there. Right then. IN the front yard.

And I'm not even kidding. The picture above was taken and then 12 seconds later:

I was relieved we made it, and he was relieved he didn't hafta pee anymore!

I bid my baby boy farewell. For the first time in the 16 and a half years I have been a Mom, I worried about my kids going off by themselves. I turned after the bus pulled away with my youngest child, and had to swallow pretty hard.

All 3 came home this afternoon with a gazillion MORE papers for me to sign, and as of 15 mintues ago? All 3 dead asleep.

Something about waking up at the crack of dawn makes you tired. The complete inner hysterics I know they felt, taking their toll on their bodies, causing exhaustion.

Me? It's now 9:17 PM and I'm whipped.

And get to start this all over again in the morning.

Seeing my baby's eyes light up, full of excitement, because he gets to FINALLY go to school, and be a big boy.....whether or not his mother has to choke back her tears~

Tags: 1st day of school, Indy 500