Decoration Day

I talked with my Dad today. He is 82 years old and was in the Navy at the end of World War II. Here he is with his 28th and youngest grandchild, my little Mite. He was telling me how Memorial day used to be called Decoration Day. He used to go to the cemetary with Grandma Buck (his Mom; remember, he was Two Bits as a boy) to plant flowers on the family graves on Decoration Day. As a young boy he learned about the "Decoration of Independence" at school and so connected the two days together. I suppose kids have been saying cute things for as long as there have been cute kids. My little Cents has been full of them the past week or so. We were out with our strollers, Mite in the one I was pushing and "Ariel" in her little stroller, when we ran into a mom we know from down the block and her two sons. Cents told the boys she "would really appreciate if they would come and play at my house." So down the block we went together. Cents was chatting it up with the Mom along the way when I heard her answer the question about whether we walk our babies together often with, "I don't ordinarily take my baby for a walk." A few days later we visited the GR Children's Museum and spent some time together in a triangular mirror tunnel. Cents and I had fun counting how many Cents we could see. Then we began counting Moms when Cents said, "lets get out of here, this is disturbing." Honestly, this girl has a better vocabulary than I do. I'm often stuck on: "can you bring me that thingy over there on the, the, ummmm, the table." I'm certain these kids have helped themselves to whatever brains I once had - and they are using them against me! : )

Since it's Memorial Day, let me tell you a new story I learned about my Dad and his time in the Navy. He chose to graduate early so that he could enlist before being drafted. By the end of the war, they were drafting by the 18th birthday, so some schools arranged for summer school and early graduation so that they could go to war with their diploma completed. Following in his big brothers' footsteps (that would be the original Buck and Half Buck), he chose the Navy. After some time aboard a ship and some testing, the Navy sent him to U of M for training in engineering. That is where he was when Truman dropped the bombs that ended the war. He has always been thankful, as he feels this saved his life. After the war, he returned to U of M to finish a degree, and served in the Naval Reserve. It wasn't until recently that he was able to tell this story, as it was deemed classified. Basically he was sent to language school at nights as a reserve to learn Russian and codebreaking (there is probably some technical term for this, but you would need to get it from Cents). After several months, his day job needed to send him out of state for a few months, so he checked in with his superior officer and recieved permission to miss his training and take the assignment out of state, with the understanding that he would continue training when he returned. Upon his return, he simply couldn't find the class or the instructor. It appears they were called up to active duty while he was away!!! And that is how my Dad didn't become a more active part of the Cold War! This was just fascinating to me because of the "what ifs" it entailed: if he had been called up to active duty, he wouldn't have been around to meet my Mom....and then all eleven of us wouldn't have been around! Those of us raised on movies like Back to the Future can spot these turning point moments where our life could have gone elsewhere, but didn't. I could have been fading away right out of the photo to be replaced by some resonably sized family. But he met my mom, had 11 children, giving Mary 5 a Russian nickname, and being really interested when my hubby and I went to spend a year in Russia when our own little Buck was a year old. He even gave me some books to help us out. But he never told us of his time studying Russian. It was only two years ago, when he looked into his military record and found that the this informations was no longer classified, that he passed the story on to me. Memorial Day 2009

Vocabulary

Ran into a neighbor Mom of 5, Shauna, today and while the little ones played, we commiserated! Feeds my soul, those sentence finishing moments. It is always fun to see what someone else notices about your kids. Okay, it isn't always fun. I could see the lack of manners at the cottage with Cents and Mite this past Saturday. My baby walks and eats, he doesn't sit. I'm ashamed of my parenting. None of the others got away with that! And Cents was swift to avoid obeying street safety, avoid picking up toys; but she sure didn't avoid sneaking cookies. I don't think it bugged Sister Mary 1 too much, but it bugged me. My failure too. But today was different. We ran into Shauna and boys a block from home so Cents invited some little boys over by saying she would really appreciate it if they came and played with her. Then I could hear her telling Shauna that we occasionally take walks. But I don't think I would have noticed her stellar vocab if not for the Shauna noticing! We just need each other, don't we. Sometimes we can't see things without someone else providing focus. Plus she found my Cents when she went on a little walk of her own when I was pregnant. She took her in and called me. We didn't know she was missing. How does a neighbor from 2 blocks away remember my last name anyway? It took me 3 years to remember her first name. I guess that means Cents has a better vocabulary than I do. From May of 2009

I Want My Mommy

Little Mite doesn't like me to leave him. At 18 months, he may leave me, but not the other way around. Although he doesn't say it, I know quite well that his cry is saying: I want my Mommy. I know the feeling.


She flew up to Heaven on the wings of angels
By the clouds and stars and passed where no one sees
And she walks with Jesus and her loved ones waiting
And I know she's smiling saying Don't worry 'bout me

That's from an Alan Jackson song that makes me cry every time I hear it. Mom's day is still - I might cry for any reason - hard for me. Yep, chocked up during the Mom song video at church this morning. If you haven't seen this one, it really isn't a tear jerker, but it is really funny.

My Mom has been gone for 16 and a half years. Sometimes I think people think the pain should have faded. It has some. Today, just today, I look at it another way: she has been gone 20 grandchildren, including a funeral for one of them and the adoption of another....she has been gone for 4 daughters' weddings and one son's as well....she has been gone for one of their divorces (well, so there is a good side)....she has missed first houses and job changes and firings and illnesses. She isn't there to consult about a recipe, the chickenpox, marriage, teething, sulky teens. And today is the day that I allow myself to have a big old pity party about it.

Since I made my serious entry into a big family with the surprise pregnancy of little Mite the same year I turned 40, I've really felt her absence. There are just not loads of people who have 5 or more, who have children in 3 to 4 different schools, who are simply inundated with laundry loads of socks alone. I was sincerely freaked out when we realized our 5th was on the way. He was quite a shock to us. I felt just like you would expect an expectant mom of 4 when the income consists of one part time job per adult with a 3-bedroom ranch and mortgage and the big 4-0 looming. It took us 5 months 'til we told even family, and I was seriously waiting for them to take me to task. Instead my sisters, the Marys, were thrilled and excited. "Terrific?" I said, "It's terrifying!" "Because we are getting a little older?" asked Sister Mary 1, who is 10 years ahead of me. Crying by now, "Because there are so many of them." I just wanted my Mom. Suddenly I could see her face throughout my childhood and I knew what she was feeling: overwhelmed, tired, hormonal, chained to family, wondering when this season would end or get easier.

I just can't relate to the advice or experiences of the Mom of 2 very well....except as a distant memory of when I thought I had this job in hand. (In fact, all I can often do is smile indulgently and hope they fare better than I.) I need someone who knows they are in waaaaaay over their head and has thrashed their way to shore and can throw me a line. Okay, okay, I know it is our personal ocean to survive, but I would just feel good knowing that they lived to tell the tale. I sometimes think my Mom didn't live to tell the tale. She died when her baby was 21. She didn't get all those perks of watching us all really take flight in our adult lives. She didn't get to enjoy her years of rapidly increasing intelligence in her kids' eyes. And she sure did earn it. From Mothers Day 2009

Babysitting Blues

Well, I am finding that you get what you pay for with a babysitter. I used to pay the neighbor girls to come and sit my kids. I would come home to a tidy kitchen or perhaps a folded load of laundry. But my boys got big enough to sit and I even paid for that babysitting class for both of them. I figured they might actually listen to someone else warn them of all the things Mite could choke on. So at least once a week Buck, with an assist from Half Buck, watches 2 or 3 of our kids. My favorite little getaway is currently: piano lessons. I know, did you guys actually think we went out on a date or something? Yeah, my free sitting miles are long gone before I use my teen for an actual outing. Anyway, I just get to sit by myself for half an hour reading in the car or browsing the dollar store. Bliss gets simpler as the years go by. Well after one rainy read in the van, we return to be greeted by Mite at the door. Yes the littlest one is the happiest to see me (a close second is the sitter, but for entirely different reasons). So up he comes to my arms in his little short set. I love seeing those chubby knees again. He is cold and wet and Half Buck proudly says they have been playing in the rain. It was Mites' idea of course. Yes, I well remember leaving the 17 month old in charge of things when I left!

After talking to the boys I leave them in charge yet again for a 2 hour meeting I have to go to. This is even a paid gig and Buck is in charge of bed time. He is so prompt to get them to bed so he can get back to gaming. All seems well when I return and I cough up the money. When Mite awakes in the morn, uh, well, he smells bad. Not poopy, but yuck just the same. So I go to change him and find he is still wearing his snap onsie tee from the day before and the diaper has exceeded its 23 pound capacity. Buck is, at this point, running really late to school. Gaming of course. And up too late watching a movie with dad. I make him come and change this awful diaper anyway. Then it is off to school. Later I find that Mite has moved the sand box trucks into the house. I can't believe I paid for this sitting. How do you get a refund from a 14 year old? From April 2009

About My Age

I just had a cousin turn 30 and it got me thinking about last year (alright, alright, two years ago, when my oldest Sister Mary 1 turned 50 just a few months before my 40Th. I was at her cottage (which also belongs to Sister Mary 2 and perhaps their hubby's too) with all the sisters for a weekend and we were chatting on the deck. It is such a treat for the 7 of us to be together. I was looking for the right time to tell them that little Mite was on the way and thinking they were all going to be as shocked as me. They were the first people we were going to tell about the baby and I was wondering what the more outspoken ones might say about a fifth at 40 when the careers are on there umpteenth speed bump. I mean, if I think it is absolutely crazy and stupid to have a surprise like this, what are they all thinking? And I was dreading my 40Th. Anyway, I asked her what she thought of her age and which birthday was hard for her. She said that 30 was a bit hard, 40 didn't bother her and 50 seemed pretty good. Her kids are raised, she has a little money in her pocket, retirement isn't too soon, but they can envision it. She is really enjoying and I was so happy for her. And I thought: I want to be 50, I want to just skip ahead to that feeling of having gotten somewhere or gotten something finished or feel the freedom she is enjoying. And then I did the math: At 50 I will have children who are 23, 20, 17, 13, and 10. I don't think I will be quite where she is now. I would like to be a young mom of 30 again and have some of that energy and enthusiasm back. By the way, they were all thrilled about the baby, way more than I was at the time. They thought it was terrific and I busted out crying and said it was terrifying. Sister Mary 1, the birthday girl, asked me if it was because we were getting a little older. My reply was because there were so many of them!!!! So for my 40Th I got bifocals and a baby. I certainly don't think I will be bored this decade : ) From April 2009

Road Trip

The best laid plans fall apart when you are trying to stuff 5 kids in a 7 passenger minivan for a 2 1/2 hour drive!!!! We were going to leave for my brother, Luke's (yep going with Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John for my four brothers. It seems to fit with all the Marys)in Ann Arbor right after church at 11. Ran 15 minutes over. Of course we ran everyone to the bathroom before we left. Add 10 minutes. Lost track of 2 kids in the lobby at least 3 times and we ended up pulling out at 11:40. Ugh. At least we have enough gas to get us there. Did you check the oil last night? Add the oil. Can I get a Slurpee? Left the gas station at Noon and made it all the way to the other side of GR before the first potty stop!!! How many gallons of water were served in the 4 year old class anyway? One more potty stop on the drive there. So instead of arriving at 1:30 we got there at something like 2:45.



We HAVE GOT to leave by 7 at the latest - it is a school night. Surely Mite and Cents will sleep on the drive home anyway. It shouldn't be too bad. At ten to seven I have all the stuff I know we brought in the house by the door. Time for the violin concert...and the piano concert...and finishing the latest board game. Did you get the leftovers from the fridge... extra trips out of the car into the bathroom for the kids who forgot...borrow 2 video games and a board game...and on it goes. Mom, where did you put my candy, my gum, my pen, my video for the car? And off we go at 7:45. That's okay, the roads should be clear at this time of night and we can just set the cruise and get home. Nope backed up about an hour out of Lansing so we spent an extra 45 minutes getting round on the scenic route. I think I will invite Luke and family to our house next Easter. From Easter 2009

The Cell Phone

I can remember being just amazed when the neighboring toddler would play with an old cellphone his parents didn't use any more. My Sister Mary 1 tells me the technology or computer ability in those things surpasses the big giants of 25 years ago. But this was 3 years ago, when I didn't have a cell. So this babe was playing with something I couldn't afford for myself. Now I'm pretty sure that most every ones 5Th grader has a cell and it is nicer than my little $10 tracphone. But I'm happy just to have a cell. And since I can't even load a picture on face book, what would I do with a camera on my phone? The Prof began with the same little phone and then upgraded to the very hip $25 camera tracphone. And no, he doesn't know how to download the pictures either. Soooooo, now there is this little phone, just like Mommy's for Mite to play with. Yep, he has his own cell. The other kids even refer to it as his. Although, Cents occasionally likes to make a call on it. I even find myself charging the thing so that it makes all sounds and lights up for him. He is playing with it now, alternating talking on the cell and the teddy bear of about the same size. It isn't active and he can't swallow it, and it bought me the few minutes to write this.

It got me thinking about the old rotary dial phone in the hallway that was heavier than a one year old (yep, pretty much measure all weights in comparison to lugging Mite around). There I sat for the whole world to hear, or at least Mom, anything I needed to say. It is where I did my math homework (that explains that lack of skill). The little phone table is where we stored the booster seats of long ago: the phone books. It was conveniently in reach of the pantry, but that was as far as you could possibly stretch that cord. Now our phone gets lost several times a day. Half Buck leaves it in places like his bed, the driveway, under the couch. Then it is accessible for Mite to dial up, well, who knows where he is dialing when he starts pushing those buttons. From April 2009