Just One Little Thing

I have been trying to do one little thing each day. Make a happy memory with my kids, each day. This isn't an entertain them and make sure they are nothing but happy a day long. This is a deliberate attempt to lighten up and do something with my kids.

I have so many memories of doing things with my Mom, Dad and Grandma. Mostly Mom and Grandma, we made Dad nervous sneaking up on him when he was sighting in rifles or welding in the shop. My memories include a lot of "it's time for a coffee break" and coming back to the house. He also tucked us in everynight. We crawled up in his lap and rode along when he fed cows. My favorite was catching him singing along with the radio, you couldn't let him know you heard him, or join in, because he would stop and I loved listening to dad sing. And how he would wink at me when he caught my eye.

With Mom, there was horseyback rides, baking cookies and cakes, homemade playdough, coloring, reading books, milking cows, crafts, putting together puzzles and about anything to keep us occupied. We lived next door to Grandma and she always had crafts, workbooks, construction paper, board games, gardening, and fun surprise activities like treasure hunts or a trip to town!

These small little activities which were cheap and usually quick are some of my favorite memories from my childhood. I want to make those kind of memories with my kids.  There is a lot of sending kids out to play, some pushing on the swings, watching them splash in the pool or run through the sprinkler in summer. Taking a quick walk around the block. Going to the playground and bringing lunch outside for a picnic. You get the idea.

Somedays, I want to do something extra special. Especially when we are housebound for an extended period.

Monday the Big D wanted a Wall-E costume. I made his brother one for a Halloween costume a few years ago. Plus D feels left out when his big brother is in preschool. So I measured him and grabbed a box from the garage. We cut out holes for arms and his head and grabbed paint and brushes.  Washable paint. He loved it, and really didn't get that dirty. I did the final touches and referred a toy Wall-E. It finished drying by the time we picked up J from preschool. Then I had to make improvements to the original because I didn't have as much detail as the new one.  My children played for hours with cardboard boxes that cost me $0 and about an hour and half of my time. As a bonus we were out of the subzero windchill temps. (Looking at the video I can tell baby sister entertained herself by emptying and scattering the contents of the laundry basket.)

Thursday we made kool-aid play dough. 5 minutes to make, with them taking turns dumping ingredients and stirring and several hours of playing at the table. How have I forgotten the joy of homemade playdough.  Limited colors is key. Too many options is a mess and a fight over who gets what. We made their favorite colors: red and green. Or cheery and lime as the boys love that the dough smelled good. (1 cup flour, 1/2 cup salt, 2 tsps cream of tartar, 1 packet kool-aide and 1 cup boiling water with a bit of oil. Mix, pour, stir, divide evenly and play)

Today I was looking online for ideas. I found a winner: (1) wrap wooden blocks with tin foil (2) have a treasure hunt. Cost $0 time to make under 5 min, entertainment value close to an hour. It was good practice for hiding Easter Eggs, even the baby liked finding treasure. They practiced counting skills to make sure they found them all and got clues for the few they missed each round. Next time I might dress them up like pirates....or do it outside.

Happy Birthday Grandma

My Grandma turned 93 this past Sunday.  Saturday I went to visit and brought flowers, the boys, my niece, and my mom.  It was good to see her and it was painful as well.

I grew up next door in the same yard out at the ranch.  There were countless days I spent more time at her house than mine. I absolutely adored having a grandma so close.  A grandma that would ride horses with me, show me old pictures, tell stories, lay on the grass to point out cloud shapes, let me mow the lawn, dust the house and do dishes (when you are little chores are fun) and help me perfect skipping rocks across the reservoir. In the summer I earned a penny for every potato bug picked off her garden...and discerning looks for every flower I accidentally pulled thinking I was helping her weed.

She taught me that she would not stand for anyone saying they were "bored".  There was and is, always something to be done.  Housecleaning, crafts, or an impromptu trip to town for ice cream.  She took us on walks and picnics, and fostered a love of collecting rocks (especially in my sister).

I wasn't patient and she wasn't one to force anything so I missed out many other lessons she had to teach. My sister however, learned to sew, cook, garden.  She also gained a strong command of the English language.   Grandma was a big believer in the importance of good grammar, because of her, my sister is too. She became a grammar nazi...I really wish now that I would have paid more attention.  If I were to print out my blog she would enjoy circling my many errs in red pen. (Like she used to do with the newspaper.)

Grandma did manage to teach me that books are wonderful, crossword puzzles can be fun, and poetry is beautiful.  Though her love of poetry didn't ever sink in too deep with me, it is something that reminds me of her.  She instilled a life long love of learning.  She also was a living example to living your faith.  She had a strong faith in God and lived her life walking his path.  Without being judgmental or looking down on others, in all aspects of her life she seemed perfect in my eyes. She also let us stay up way past our bedtime to watch Saturday Night Live with her.

She taught me the joy of keeping in touch with people.  Your day can be made with a simple  phone call or getting a letter in the mail.  In college I loved visiting with her on weekends and exchanging handwritten letters.  Though occasionally I received the bittersweet  empty addressed envelope. I tried to smile and think, she thought of me.  I tried to push down the fear that she was getting more forgetful.

I really noticed my grandma's memory start to slip from her when I was in high school.  Her personality has always stayed the same. For that I am grateful. She never spoke ill of anyone, she always had a sincere compliment ready, and her beauty shines through in how she treats others. Her sense of humor and determination to do anything is still intact.  (Growing up she worked as hard as any man and had a love for learning.) She is humble and never one to brag, but she will always talk up her loved ones.

It hurts that someone I love so much and have always looked up to doesn't know who I am anymore.  I hurts that my children won't share the same kinds of memories that I have.  I so much want for them to feel the love and have the love that I do for her.  I wish she could recognize and get to know my Husband.  She had such a way of making people feel part of the family. At one time her mind was a steel trap, with facts, figures, names, dates, stories, tips and tricks all neatly organized and ready for anything.  Sound advice when asked, encouragement when needed. A solution to any problem stain and a go to recipe sure to be hit, and a trick to reign in an ornery horse.

It hurts to see that her shaking has gotten so much worse.  To see all the things I remember her loving being taken from her.  She has always been an avid reader, and her eyesight is going and her shaking makes it almost impossible for her to read.  The same for sewing and writing letters.  She prided herself in never forgetting birthdays or anniversaries and loved exchanging mail and the Reader's Digest.

It hurts to hear her repeat the same conversation we just had to pictures in a magazine in her hand, and realizing than in the time for her to look down she forgot I was even there.

It hurts seeing her in the nursing home (although I know it is where she needs to be) because it is the one place she always said she didn't want to go. And because it makes me feel guilty I live so far away and only have made it to visit her a few times a year since she moved in.

It hurts to hear her say she feel useless because she can't do anything.  When I know she had such a strong work ethic and determination. She really could do anything.  She prided herself in helping others and was so worried about being seen as a burden.

I just want you to know Grandma, you never have been a burden. Not a single day in your life. And with all the things that you are no longer able to do you are still someone I look up to for all that you are still able to do.

You are still the belle of the ball.
You still spread joy and happiness, you make people feel happy.
You still have the best smile.
You still give the best hugs.
You still are my best example of grace.

I love you grandma, with all of my heart.  I wish I lived closer so I could visit with you more often.

Surprise Visits are the Best

I forgot to mention one of the highlights from last weekend.  Finally a benefit to stalking Facebook regularly I discovered a friend, from my college days, and her family would be passing through on a trip Friday night.

Friend Post: On my way to {City} to see my best friend!
Me: But I live in {Small Town}...

She happened to check her Facebook while gassing up...in town!  They stopped by for about 10 minutes and we got to meet each others kiddos!  I can't believe it had been 6 years.  They added in a longer stop Monday to gas up and get a late lunch on the return trip. Operation get friends to visit and/or move to Montana is going splendidly well.  They did say they loved Montana!

Aren't they a happy looking family? 

However, they also mentioned not wanting to move too far away from family...more persuasion may be needed.  I'm hoping to actually take a trip to South Dakota to visit before the snow sets in. I can practice my Puppet Mastery in person ;)

Forever Friends

One of my best-friends-from-college/old-roommate/bridesmaid/partner-in-crime came up this past weekend with her daughter for a visit.  We hadn't actually seen each other since my wedding in April 2009.  Our friendship has always seemed to be one that picks up right where it left off though.  Life and time slip away, we don't always talk as often as we would like and before you know it months and then years have passed. I still consider her one of my closest friends and I always will. Do you have friends that you don't always see, and sometimes hardly ever talk to...but you find they are closer to you than people you see all the time? I subtly worked on her to move closer so we could get together more than a few times every decade.

I hadn't seen Little Miss Sunshine since she was 3, or was it 2? She was about the Toddler's age.  It seems like yesterday I bounced her on my knee and watched her clear off her mom's coffee table.  Now she is telling me stories and drawing me a picture of her apartment building on my fridge, with a color coordinated magnet to help me find my way to come visit her.

Her daughter is just as beautiful as my friend.  With all the attitude and unrestrained honesty to boot! Haha, I learned fairly quickly that I was "weird" and pretty much everything about my life/house was too.  I also learned that I was "cool" and the "nicest".    The Toddler was instantly taken in by her charm, and little girl bossiness.  The Big D was pretty smitten with her mom, must have a thing for older women like his dad ;)

Though the adventures we shared were entirely different than the adventures we seemed to get into in college, everything else was the same.  The stories and laughs came easy, possibly helped along by a glass of wine or two after the kids were asleep.  Everynight my face hurt from smiling, and my abs that I had thought were nonexistent these days hurt from laughing.

We talked about mutual friends and where they were now and what they were up to.  Laughed at the dumb things we did, and the even dumber guys we dated. Hahaha. 20/20 Hindsight right? Businesses that have came and gone in my old college town, and old teacher sightings.  Mr T is still our favorite!

So many inside stories we share

• Our first visits to each others home town
• The Epic Valentines Day Prank
• Painted Portraits on Pumpkins
• Cruising for Hours without even talking
• Street Dances
• Parties
• Remembering how when we first met she threatened to kill me - We are just weird enough to be each others friend
• Bad Blinddates/Setups based on Cowboy Boots
• The "I'd Never Do it" Story
• Roadtrips
• Neither of us sticking it out in the Nursing Program
• The Waterboy & Monty Python - I wonder if those movies are still ruined for Mike S, Laura M, and Ashley W?
• The Olden Days when she lived in an apartment above our favorite bar...

We are both quite a bit more mellow and tame these days.  I can hardly believe how different we actually are than when we first met.  We have definitively grown up, thankfully not apart.  Our adventures now include watching the kiddos run through the sprinkler, taking in a petting zoo (and not staying for the concert and street dance), hours spent at the park, and going for ice cream. Sharing tips on how to travel with kiddos and make it through mass without a melt down.  I was so happy that our children got along and glad we got to hang out again.  Our children will ensure another generation of friendships. The bond of sharing fruit snacks and playing Pirates is for life after all.

 Isn't she such a beautiful little girl?

The Toddler ruining the "map" Little Miss Sunshine left for me to come visit her.

Bringing Supper to the Field

My little family has started a tradition of bringing supper to Daddy in the field...well one of the fields.  The one that is about 20 miles away from home.

The guys go to the farm for lunch if they are in the fields close by, if not they are on their own...so I decided to take the Toddler (when he was still known as The Baby) to visit Daddy and bring him supper when I knew he would otherwise go without. It was a chance to see him during a time of the year he is kind of scarce.

The Hubby seemed to like seeing us too (bringing food that wasn't a sandwich didn't hurt either), and here we are - making memories and creating our own traditions.

2010 - the start of a family tradition

I miss how chubby he was!

2011

Peek-a-boo Daddy!

The Big D getting some Dad Luv'ns & The Hubby glaring at me for having a camera

I love it.  Sometimes it's a little hectic to get a meal put together after getting off work and gathering up the boys from daycare.  Sometimes I cheat and grab deli food...but most times I put a little more effort into it.  The idea is to bring a full meal, something hot, something he couldn't get from just a packed lunch.

Fresh  from the oven - Fried Chicken & Oven Roasted Veggies

Although, if the Toddler doesn't get to sit in the tractor for at least a minute...I don't hear the end of it for days.

He has his own "tradition" - anytime he sees a tractor, he needs to ride in it.

2012

Trying to talk Dad into letting him "Help Farm in Tractor"

So far the Big D is content hanging out with Mommy in the car.

Do you have any traditions that started out as a gesture but became much more?

Swan Lake

I have got to be the most uncoordinated person on this planet.  I have always been klutzy, my dear sweet grandma used to tell me "When you grow up you will be as graceful as a swan, clumsy is just a stage" referencing some ugly duckling premise I'm sure.  Well I am here to tell you...grandma got it wrong.

In Jr High I was told by a boy (the one I happened to have a crush on) that he loved being around me...because it made him look less clumsy. There is a confidence boost.

I have very seldom met a set of stairs/steps I haven't fallen up or down.

I am quite possibly the only person to have ever bitten their bottom lip while sneezing (seriously just happened...I have no idea how)

Speaking of no idea how.  Last weekend I was wearing my favorite pair of mules and managed to step in gum with the heel of my  foot...thus sticking my sock to the inside of my shoe. Made for an awkward predicament. Honestly how in the heck does one step on gum INSIDE of their shoe?

In the morning after waking up, I have trouble walking through doorways...okay, okay really it can be at anytime.  I also constantly have a bruise on my thigh from catching the corners of desks I happen to be walking by at work.

I also once gave myself a fat lip with the bottom of my snowboard.  1st and last attempt at snowboarding. Some friends from  high school made it sound fun when we were in college.  I ended up hiking down the last part of the mountain and sitting in front of the fireplace at the lodge until everyone else finished having 'fun'.  After making it down the bunny slope without falling a false sense of security lead me to believe my good friend (who is now has a PhD - though I question her smarts) when she said I was a natural, took me up the ski lift and ditched my sorry butt. No one showed me how to slow down, and the only advice I could remember was given to me by my uncle before the trip.  If you want to stop just fall down (that I was good at)

My poor kids are lucky they haven't been trampled.  Okay throw me a bone here, is anyone else still waiting to grow into the graceful swan stage?  Please share so I don't feel so alone....and that there is hope for my poor son who seems to be following in his mother's footsteps.  I guess he is 50% hubby, so he has that going for him...right?

***PS - I just totally knocked over my drink all over my desk.***

Out of the Mouths of Babes ~ The cycle continues

I have a childhood memory of riding in the box of the feed pickup with my sister, while Mom and Grandma went around the cows to put out mineral.  At the sight of the first cow I jumped up, pointed and shouted as loud as I could "Son of a Bitch! SON OF AAWWWHH  BIIIIITCH!"

Mom slammed on the brakes and I went splat on the back of the window (think that stuffed suction cupped Garfield everyone used to have in the rear window), then yelled "out what did you say?"  Being  honest, naive dumb I proudly repeated what I had said.  I don't remember exactly what mom said next, but this is the end of the conversation as I recall it.

Me: but that's what Daddy calls them

Mom: *sigh* Well, that's not appropriate right now...don't say it again.

Without speaking I gave my sister a look of, "So its not just another phrase that means cow?"

Who kindly returned a look that said "You dumbass"

Back story: I had rode along with Dad the day before while he was chasing escapee cows, or was it bulls in the wrong pasture?  It was before the huge concern of seatbelt safety for children (or we were just behind the times) and I remember bouncing around more than Tigger on a trampoline.  I held on to everything I could get my hands on but still would fly up at every bump and smack my head off the cab of the pickup.  Had I been a can of pop, its safe to say that everyone would have passed on popping that top.

Which brings me to last night.  Hubby took the toddler for a daddy day at the farm earlier in the week, and casually mentioned, while I was washing dishes.

Hubby: Um, so don't be surprised if Josh starts saying a new new word or two

Me: How many letters are we talking?

Hubby: .....

Me: Are they 4 letter words?

Hubby: Nope, more of a phrase....with 3, 2, 1, and 5 letters!

Me: ....SOB?

Hubby: Yep

Me: it's a dad thing isn't it? The cycle continues

Hubby: ?

I proceeded to tell him the story I just shared with you. I'm sure he will learn many phrases and words from Dad, Uncles, Grandpas, and many others.  I will cringe at them later.

Honestly it wasn't as bad as I thought, I also haven't caught him using it yet.  Though, for the last 6 months I've been having a heart attack every time he drops his fork....he tends to leave out the 'R'.

Superbowl Sunday

I have been a fan of the Green Bay Packers since I was 3 years old, and I have not wavered in my fan hood (expect for in junior high when I wanted an Eagles jacket because I didn't want the same coat as my sister).  I was still a Green Bay fan, but I also had nothing against the Eagles and liked their colors, I adopted them as a team I could cheer for unless they were playing my team.

My father doesn't like sports and hates football, my mom loves all sports and is a Steelers fan.  However, because my Great Grandma used to babysit Jerry Kramer (played for the Packers in the '60s) many locals were fans and didn't discourage my love of the Cheeseheads...but even with that neat little tie in, that was not how I picked my team.  Ole Rolandson owned a John Deere dealership and I thought he was the coolest person in the world, he shared hero status with only my Grandpa Coleman and my father.  When I rode along with dad on a parts run, Ole would let me sit on the JD lawnmowers and pretend to drive, and he would hit the vending machine hard with his fist and hand me a free pop.  The vending machine was old and still had the glass bottles that you had to drink the pop at the store and put the empty bottle back in crate, where the bottles would be washed and re-used.  But I digress, I loved the Packers because their colors were green and yellow the same as  John Deere's colors...and I was convinced that Ole owned them both.

My son is destined to be a Packers fan as well, I am determined of this....and after 13 years my team made it to the Superbowl so I did the only natural thing....I threw a Superbowl Party! 

I dressed my little man head to toe in Packers gear, minus the Cheesehat Eric wouldn't let me order for him. 

I made super nachos, bacon wrapped lil' smokies, shrimp crescent rollups, chips and 4 kinds of dip, virgin margaritas (the pregnant lady doesn't provide alcohol) fruit cups, pop & juice.

Josh helped me clean house and then decorate for the party...Our styles are a bit different however, he did have fun unraveling the roll of toilet paper and covering our whole house in it.

The party was a success, and with a Green Bay victory our house was a happy place last Sunday.  Josh paid no attention to the game what so ever, but loved going around bumming food and dancing to the music during half time. 

God, Family, and Football ~ Vince Lombardi