I'm such a bad mom

I completely forgot my kids Half-Birthday this year. Actually, I've forgotten it several times over the last couple of years. But this year my daughter was telling me how she had laughingly mentioned it to her kindergarten class and the next thing she knew some of the parents brought her presents!

The Half-Birthday was started when my kids were around 3 or 4 years old. As much as I loved having twins, I felt a little cheated that I only got to have one birthday party each year. So, since their birthday was September 12th, I deemed March 12th their Half-Birthday! Each year we would have a little private party - just the three of us. I would usually get one birthday card and cut in it half. Of course, each year I had to alternate who got the top half and who got the bottom.

Then I would bake one cake layer, cut it in half, and make a half cake. Gifts usually included things like chapstick and kleenex for Jenni and some hot wheels thing or soccer trinket for Joe. Just fun, silly, cheap gifts.

As they got older we sometimes went out to dinner to celebrate. And, yes, I would let each of them have a whole meal.

It was a fun tradition that I kept going until a couple of years after they moved out. Then, because they now have their own families, it sort of slipped away. But now that I see it's still important to my daughter, I need to put it on my calendar so I don't forget again!

Such a negligent mother.

Why can't they be like we were, perfect in every way.....

I love the movie Bye, Bye, Birdie. In it there is a song titled, "Kids" basically lamenting that kids of today aren't as wonderful as all of us were when WE were kids. Anyone who has ever had kids, or been a kid, knows what a pain in the ass they can be at times and how they seem to thrive on getting hurt and/or in trouble.

My daughter had one of those "special" parenting days yesterday when Vika and Eamon decided to jump from the railing in the dining room down to the living room couch. Eamon did fine. Vika busted her head open when she used the couch as a trampoline and did a header on the coffee table. A couple of hours and three staples later she was fine. But it was an exciting evening all around. Ed and I were headed to a crab feed, but went to Urgent Care to be with Jenni, Jeff and the kids.

Of course, my kids never did anything like that. Well, unless you count the time Jenni found a little metal ball, threw it in the air and looked to see where it would land. As luck would have it, it landed on her mouth and broke a tooth.

Or the many times my son Joe got sun stroke because he would play too hard without a hat in the 110 Tucson sun.

Oh, and the time he went dirt bike riding and didn't realize the sand dunes change overnight with the wind and all so he did a header over the dune and landed on his shoulder.

Back to Jenni, when she finally learned how to climb out of her crib, she would do it from the front instead of the side and land on her head on the ground. If I was downstairs, I would hear a loud thump followed by a wail. Good times.

I, on the other hand, was a perfect child. No need to bring up the time I decided to do a little dance on my mother's coffee table with the glass insert (what was she thinking?!?) and my leg went through the glass. What's a few stitches here and there.

Or the time I gave my sister a ride on my bike and got her foot caught in the spokes.

Or the time I shoved a rock up my nose (please don't ask me why) and ran home crying so hard that the rock fell out. Actually, my mother never knew about that one.

It's amazing that we parents survive.

Conversation with my son

Had a fun conversation with my son this morning. He called to tell me that he had dropped off his almost one-year old son at the day care earlier today. As he was getting back in his car, he could see Tyson through the window and saw him go over to another little boy and smile. Then Tyson looked out the window, saw Joe in the car, smiled and did his bye-bye wave (it's his newest trick). Joe said, "It made me kinda tear up!" Which, of course, made ME tear up! Now that the first year of mostly crying, pooping, eating, and sometimes sleeping is almost over, Tyson is becoming a kid. Learning new things every day, realizing and understanding who the most important people in his life are, and being more and more interactive. Joe is soaking it all up. It's such fun to watch your children be parents. I love it!

Joe also told me about an 11-year old friend of his stepson. Apparently the boy still believes in Santa Claus. Joe was driving the two boys somewhere in December and his stepson was kidding the other boy about the whole Santa Claus thing, but the friend wasn't buying any of it. He's thoroughly convinced that "Santa Claus" exists. But he went on to explain that it isn't just one man - that would be logistically impossible. He informed Joe that it's a "network" (his word) of Santa Clauses who have different regions world wide. For instance, his home is serviced by the West Coast rep.

So I asked Joe when he stopped believing. He said he doesn't remember the exact age (9 or 10), but that year he did start having some suspicions. When I took the kids to visit Santa at the mall, I asked the usual post-lap question, "Well, what did you ask him for?" Joe decided this was a good time to put his theories to the test. He also was kept awake at night wondering about the logistics of one man hauling gifts for every kid worldwide. He figured the fat man would have to return to the North Pole several times to keep re-stocking and there wasn't enough time even with the whole time change thing. Based on his calculations, and hoping to prove himself wrong, he choose not to tell me what he asked Santa for on what turned out to be his last Santa lap visit. And, surprise!!, he didn't get the things he had asked for! Foiled again! He woke up Christmas morning a little wiser, but not a whole lot happier.

Even though my Cherrios were soggy by the time I got off the phone, it was a great way to start the day!

Fun with Dick and Jane (or in this case, Jenni and Jeff)

Today my daughter and her family left for a week at Disney World. Now let me just say that when anyone is going to Disneyland or Disney World who isn't ME, I get a bit cranky. That aside, here's how the morning went.

Since I had the honor of driving them to the airport, they arrived at my house around 9am for the people and suitcase transfer. I asked the kids if they wanted to make one more visit to the bathroom but was informed that they could not go at my house. Huh? Jenni then told me that if they let them go inside they'll start messing around and delay them. To which Vika rolled her eyes in her best pre-teen manner and said, "We wouldn't take that long, really."

I asked Jenni for her keys so I could get her mail and babysit her three cats. (Oh, yes, not only do they go to Disney World without me, but I have to feed, de-litter, and clean up after the cats). Jenni noted that Jeff just needed to move their car out of the driveway first.

Finally managed to get the kids, adults, suitcases, cameras, sweatshirts, backpacks, purses, snacks, books, etc. in the car and off we went. Traffic wasn't too bad so we made it to the airport in about 40 minutes. I dropped them off, watched as they took all their stuff out of the car. Watched as they kept trying to corral the kids who were anxious to get into the airport. Hugs and kisses all around and then I drove away.

Got about 2/3 of the way home and traffic, again, wasn't too bad which was good because I really had to pee. Then the phone rang.

Jenni: Mom, we forgot to give you the keys!
Me: Crap! Do you still have that spare in the birdhouse in the back?
Jenni to Jeff: Hey, do we still have that spare key in the birdhouse in the back? What? We don't have that birdhouse anymore? No spare key?
Jenni to me: I guess there isn't a spare key anymore.
Me: So what's the plan?
Jenni to Jeff: What should we do, Jeff? What? Oh, he said we could Fed Ex the keys when we get out there.
Me: Well, since you're getting there late tonight you won't be able to do that until tomorrow which means I won't get them until Thursday. Now, I won't mind not going over to take care of the critters until Thursday, but they may not like it!
Jenni: Oh. Jeff, that won't work - she won't be able to feed the cats until Thursday!
Me: Guess I'll have to turn around and come back up there and one of you will have to go back out through Security and meet me at the drop off spot.
Jenni: Maybe we can leave the keys at a will-call desk.
Me: No way! I'm not going to pay $5 bucks to park the car for 20 minutes and schlep up to the airport. One of you can meet me at the curb.

So we agreed to that and I said I'd call them when I was almost there so they could be at the curb and ready. When I called back the phone rang and rang. Apparently my daughter had a chance to go to the bathroom!!! Lucky her! Finally Jeff grabbed her phone and said she'd call me right back. She did and told me the girl at Security would actually meet me at the curb with the keys so they wouldn't need to leave the sterile area. Cool! Jenni told her what my car looked like and what my name was.

I got to the airport, drove to the Delta drop off, scanned the crowd but didn't see a Security girl. Finally I saw a short man at the end of the line holding up some keys. Apparently he recognized Lola (that's my car). I pulled up only to discover that it actually was a girl, a very tough looking girl. Rolled down my window and she barked, "What's your name??" Scared me for a minute and I almost forgot thereby blowing the whole escapade. But at the last second I remembered and blurted out, "Sandi!!" She nodded in that cool cop way and handed me the keys.

And, again, I drove home.

Heck of a way to start the day

Last night before going to sleep (still on the couch due to coughing) I was watching Singing in the Rain with Gene Kelly and Debbie Reynolds. One of the great classics. And there is one song in that movie that always brings a smile to my face because it reminds me of my kids during their teen years.

Neither of my kids were exactly morning people. On weekends Jenni would grumble out of bed around 9:30 or 10:00 am. Joe, on the other hand, was always up late and would stay in bed most of the day if he had a chance. But with us around, he didn't.

We usually let him sleep until 11:00 or noon, but that was it. Then we wanted him to be up with us. So Jenni and I would go into his room (which, if you've ever had teen age sons, you know doesn't smell so good), climb on his bed, and start singing, "Good mornin', good mornin' - we've talked the whole night through. Good mornin', good mornin' to you!" His usual response would be, "C'mon guys, go away." Which would cause us to sing again a bit louder. Jenni would sometimes start poking his face, I would tickle him. He'd grumble, put the pillow over his face. But eventually he'd give in and get up. Just to shut us up if nothing else.


This is a picture of us around that time frame. Note Joe's lovely hair. Boy, were we glad when that phase was gone!

So that movie and that song always make me smile. Jenni too. Joe, probably not so much.

On being a parent

My friend, Maria, suggested I post this. It was sent to me by my son who became a first-time father four weeks ago!

++++++

PARENT- Job Description

This is hysterical. If it had been presented this way,
Would any of us have done it???!!!!

POSITION :
Mom, Mommy, Mama, Ma, Ima
Dad, Daddy, Dada, Pa, Pop, Abba

JOB DESCRIPTION :

Long term, team players needed, for challenging,
permanent work in an
often chaotic environment.
Candidates must possess excellent communication
and organizational skills and be willing to work
variable hours, which will include evenings and weekends
and frequent 24 hour shifts on call.
Some overnight travel required, including trips to
primitive camping sites on rainy weekends and endless sports tournaments in far away cities!
Travel expenses not reimbursed.
Extensive courier duties also required.

RESPONSIBILITIES :

The rest of your life.
Must be willing to be hated, at least temporarily,
until someone needs $5.
Must be willing to bite tongue repeatedly.
Also, must possess the physical stamina of a
pack mule
and be able to go from zero to 60 mph in three seconds flat
in case, this time, the screams from
the backyard are not someone just crying wolf.
Must be willing to face stimulating technical challenges,
such as small gadget repair, mysteriously sluggish toilets
and stuck zippers.
Must screen phone calls, maintain calendars and
coordinate production of multiple homework projects.
Must have ability to plan and organize social gatherings
for clients of all ages and mental outlooks.
Must be willing to be indispensable one minute,
an embarrassment the next.
Must handle assembly and product safety testing of a
half million cheap, plastic toys, and battery operated devices.
Must always hope for the best but be prepared for the worst.
Must assume final, complete accountability for
the quality of the end product.
Responsibilities also include floor maintenance and
janitorial work throughout the facility.

POSSIBILITY FOR ADVANCEMENT & PROMOTION :

None.
Your job is to remain in the same position for years, without complaining, constantly retraining and updating your skills,
so that those in your charge can ultimately surpass you

PREVIOUS EXPERIENCE :

None required unfortunately.
On-the-job training offered on a continually exhausting basis.

WAGES AND COMPENSATION :

Get this! You pay them!
Offering frequent raises and bonuses.
A balloon payment is due when they turn 18 because
of the assumption that college will help them
become financially independent.
When you die, you give them whatever is left.
The oddest thing about this reverse-salary scheme is that
you actually enjoy it and wish you could only do more..

BENEFITS :

While no health or dental insurance, no pension,
no tuition reimbursement, no paid holidays and
no stock options are offered;
this job supplies limitless opportunities for personal growth, unconditional love,
and free hugs and kisses for life if you play your cards right.

Forward this on to all the PARENTS you know, in appreciation for everything they do on a daily basis,
letting them know they are appreciated
for the fabulous job they do...
or forward with love
to anyone thinking of applying for the job.

** AND A FOOTNOTE: THERE IS NO RETIREMENT -- EVER!!!

Gotta love those smudges

This morning when I got in the car, the sun was hitting my windows just right and the vision below greeted me. It's the back window of the car with little kid fingerprints on it. My grandkids. Not sure which one because they switch off sitting behind me, but it's definitely one of them. Since they began school this year, I have been picking Vika and Eamon up on Fridays to help out their parents a bit. So I now have two car seats permanently in the back. And fingerprints on my windows.



Seeing those little smudges brought an immediate smile to my face. I feel so lucky that Jenni lives close by and I get to spend so much time with her children. I know it probably won't be like this forever so I relish every minute and it's very cool to be a constant part of their lives.

When my kids were little, they always left fingerprints on the sliding glass door. Being raised by a compulsively clean mother, I would constantly have a rag in my hand to clean the window. Then I noticed that the little smudges were getting higher - my kids were getting older and bigger. Suddenly I didn't wash them away as quickly. Eventually the fingerprints were almost too high for me to reach and then they disappeared completely. Jenni and Joe had grown up and learned how to use the door handle.

Even now, after a family event at our house with four little kids running around, there are always fingerprints on the glass in the door leading to the backyard. I'm never in a hurry to clean them away. They bring a smile to my face and bring back memories of my own children being small and filling the house with fingerprints, noise, and joy.

Happy Birthday!!

Yesterday was my babies' 35th birthday! We actually celebrated last Friday with dinner at Chevy's. I've been so lucky with Joe and Jenni. Even through the angst of their teen years, the problems we had were so small compared to the horror stories I hear some parents tell. They were wonderful and loving kids, tolerable teenagers, and have both turned into incredible adults.

They started out so tiny, but now both tower over me. Of course, at 5' 2", most people tower over me.

And they've always been close which is a gift to all of us. I have so many indelible memories from the past 35 years that never fail to bring a smile to my face and a flutter to my heart. And I miss the days when they were young and we all still lived together.

But, as any mother knows, no matter how old your kids get, when they say "Love you, mom" the little heart flutter resurrects, the clock rolls back and they're your babies again.

Five years from now

I promise, this will be the last Tucson post! But there's one more piece to the week.

Ed had visited Tucson a few years before we met and thought it was a god-forsaken place. All that cactus and everything so dry looking. Then after we got together, we would go visit my dad and even bought a little garden condo for him to live in. Ed started seeing the beauty of the desert and liking it more. We even enjoyed a few thunderstorms.

Last year we took a trip out there in July with my kids and their families. Had a great time and Ed really got into the whole desert and "old west" thing, enjoyed our trip down memory lane, and had the incredible Arizona thunderstorm experience.

After our most recent trip, he's ready to move there! We stayed in the same resort we had stayed in in 2007. Took walks in the morning in the desert. Had dinner outside almost every night. We have family there, friends there, and the whole feeling is more relaxed than California. And it's the home of Couch Rock. That is totally not the name of the rock below, but when I was 10 and we first moved there, I thought it looked like a couch so that's what I named it in my head. It's my icon of Tucson. You can only see it on the West side of town, and seeing it always calms my soul.

This is a plan for five years down the road - after Ed is done working and ready to collect his Social Security. But it's a fun plan and one we're both excited about. We won't be moving there full time, the plan is to buy a condo and split our time between Tucson and California. We can't just leave the kids and grandkids behind!

So our road trip to Tucson - which was primarily for the purpose of seeing my aunt and getting my mom's hope chest for my daughter - turned out to be a life-changing vacation. We had no definitive plans for our retirement - now we do. And I, for one, am excited about it!

Pismo Beach and Moms

My son took his family to Pismo Beach this weekend to "ride the dunes". Happily, they made it home safely. Pismo Beach and my son were not a good combination in the past.

Somewhere during his college years, Joe and a group of friends decided to head to Pismo Beach to ride their dirt bikes. My husband at the time (he who shall not be named - HWSNBN) was a dirt bike rider so we had a few of them around the garage. Joe took two with him on the trip.

Coincidentally, HWSNBN had a conference that same weekend close to the Pismo area so we decided to drive over there and see the boys. Now, I hadn't been to Pismo before and had no idea how difficult it might be to find someone. But somehow we managed - although now I don't remember how we did it. We found the tent they were staying in, and next to the tent was one of our dirt bikes just sitting there. With a pair of sneakers beside it. My heart stopped. Where was Joe? Was he hurt? We called a bit, no one answered. We waited for a little while because I was afraid to leave.

Finally another of his friends came riding over the crest and stopped when he saw us. I asked where Joe was and his friend, Justin, told me that he had ridden over a dune that was fine the day before, but the sand had shifted and now it was a cliff. So he went over it and crashed at the bottom. But Justin was quick to tell me that there was no blood and he didn't lose consciousness. By now my insides were in a knot and the tears were coming. I asked where Joe was and Justin told me he had gone to the emergency room.

HWSNBN and I got back in the car and headed for the emergency room. We raced in and asked about Joe. They said he had been there and only had a dislocated shoulder. He and his other friend, Danny, were on the way to the drug store to get a prescription filled. Once I found out he was okay, I really broke down. But I still had to find him.

I asked the nurse where the nearest drug store was and she directed us to the Thrifty Drug a couple miles up the street. So that's where we headed. By now it had been about an hour since discovering their campsite and I just needed to see him and know that he was okay. We got out of the car and headed into the store. As soon as we got to the front door, out walks Joe and Danny. They looked at us quizzically. What the heck were we doing there? Danny looked at me in awe and said, "Man, moms know everything!" I hugged Joe (carefully) and made sure he was okay. They were both still staring at us like we were ghosts! How did you find us? How did you know what had happened? Dude!!

My guess is that Joe is a lot smarter 15 or so years later. If nothing else he knows that Moms are wise. And now he has his young step-sons to protect. Hmmm, wonder if they know the story about his header?!?!? Me thinks we will be having a little conversation next time I see them.....

You're Gonna Miss This....

Periodically my daughter calls me with stories of how the kids are driving her nuts. While I know how frustrated she is, and that many of her experiences are different than mine, her tales often bring a silent smile to my face because they remind me of when she and her brother were young and how out of control life often seemed. And yet if I had a chance to go back to those days and do it all over again, I would in a heartbeat.

There is a song on my country station called You're Gonna Miss This. First it's a father talking to his daughter about not wanting to rush her life along too fast. And then a man is doing some repairs in a home where the kids are driving the mother crazy and she's apologizing for them. He says, "Don't worry, I have babies of my own. One is 36 and the other 33. You're gonna miss this..." Every time I hear that song I get teary.

Before I had kids there was a song called "Saturday Morning Confusion" about what a typical weekend morning is like in most homes with children. Even back then, I knew that I wanted those mornings. I wanted kids who would drive me nuts. I wanted the confusion and the chaos. And I sure had it! With twins it's always something.

I think of those moments when I would call my mom and vent about the whole motherhood thing. She would tell me - you're going to miss these days, don't wish them away so fast. I thought she was crazy. Who could ever miss:

* My husband coming home to find me and two 2-year olds crying in the living room
* Shoe prints on my hips for four years
* Crayon marks on the walls
* The bag of stuff I had to haul with me any time we ventured out
* Taking an incredible amount of time to get in the car or out of the car
* That first day of school when I cried and they cried
* Their fights with each other over pretty much anything

* Listening to them in their bedroom plotting to run away from home

* Hearing them say "I hate you" and knowing (or hoping) deep down that they didn't mean it
* Getting up in the middle of the night to cover them, take them to the bathroom, get them water
* Being so tired of hearing "Mommy" that I decided to change my name and not tell them what it was!
* Stepping on toys with my bare feet and threatening to leave home that very instant!
* Missing money, bandaids, pens, scissors, tape, etc
* Having my son say, "Mom, the neighbor may be calling you tonight" usually followed by "I love you, mommy."
* Spilled food and drink
* Tantrums
* Sitting in my car outside the school gym with all the other parents waiting for an event to end
* The late evening phone call from the teacher
* Hamsters that managed to get out of their cages periodically
* The five year old who still yelled "Mom, wipe me!"
* Snotty noses
* Two little kids running up to me with their arms open wide
* Cries of "hold me" or "carry me"
* Taking my daughter to see Mikhail Barishnikov and letting her meet him
* Taking my son to buy his first professional drum set
* Taking my teenage son to get his mullet removed
* Watching countless plays put on my my daughter and her friends

My kids are both incredible adults now with families of their own. but, oh, how I miss those days. I think that's one of the great joys of being a grandmother, you get a little bit of a chance to re-live some of it. Now, if I could just figure out a way to keep the grandkids from growing up too fast.......

Yikes!

I saw an article online the other day about a couple who got married not realizing they were actually twins who had been separated at birth and adopted by different families!! It's really a sad story and rather horrifying to realize how easily that could happen. However, since I have boy/girl twins (who are now adults), I had to send them the article with a subject line of "This will make you shudder".

My son, Joe, wrote back: "Shuddering alright..... Hey, it happens in the South all the time!"

Jenni wrote back: "It makes me shudder and throw up a little bit in my mouth. No offense to you, of course, Joe. Those poor people!"

They crack me up.

Paying homage to Thad

Heard a snippet of a song on my country station today that went, "you can't be cool in a mini van...". I had a mini van for several years and thought we were totally cool! Of course, recently my kids informed me that I was incorrect.

When the kids were little, Ford came out with the Aerostar mini-van with the pointy front hood. We used to call it the space van and would fantasize about how we would get one "when we got rich". That was our threshold for a lot of things back then.

Well, we never got rich. But my ex-husband (he who shall not be named) gave me the downpayment for a new car and I bought a brand new 1986 gold Chevy Astro Van. Man, we were stylin'. I found out just recently that when I proudly drove home with my new van, the kids were a bit horrified. Glad I didn't know it back then!

Jenni named the van Thad and it became an important member of our lives for ten years. Yes, by the end he was pretty worn down. Little by little he let me know he was getting tired. The armrest that fell off and found a permanent home on the floor in the back. The rear view mirror that would periodically fall off the window and I'd have to drive with one hand while holding the mirror up with the other. The continuous smell of apples from the jug of cider that broke in the back. The windshield wipers that would do their thing when I turned on the radio. The gash on the side from a little mishap in the self-serve car wash. The lights on the dashboard that went out when the new engine was installed and stayed out for the next three years - I had to keep a flashlight handy in case I needed to see how fast I was going at night. And, finally, the fan that quit working - no heat and no air conditioning. By this time the mechanic who had sent his kids to college on my repair bills said, "Sandi, for the love of god, get another car!!"

But Thad was such a part of our family that letting go was tough.

• Thad hauled us and much of our "stuff" to California when we moved here in 1987.
  


• When Joe bought his first professional drum set at the age of 15, it was Thad who carried the set home for us
  


• When I took Jenni to see Barishnykov in San Francisco, Thad got us there. Oh, true, he decided to have a flat tire before we even left town. But thanks to AAA we fixed the tire and made it safely.
  


• When my mom came to visit, Thad cheerfully drove us down Lombard Street in San Francisco. And, man, you haven't lived until you've maneuvered Lombard Street in a mini-van.
  


• When my future sister-in-law needed to move her prized armoire to the new apartment she was sharing with my brother, Thad was the only vehicle that could accomodate it.
  


• When the kids and I made our 14 hour lets-drive-through-the-night trips back to Tucson to visit family, Thad merrily came along with us.
  


• When HWSNBN was finally out of the picture, it was Thad who went to the beach with me and a girlfriend for a celebratory glass of wine and shouts of joy

But I finally bit the bullet and traded Thad in for Gloria - a sleek little Saturn. As I was grabbing all my stuff out of the back seat, trunk, glove box, console, I was sobbing. So many memories. I hoped he didn't think I was abandoning him just because he was old and dysfunctional. Oh, wait, that's pretty much what I WAS doing!

More than likely he's resting in one of those car parts places - or at least "parts" of him are. I think he was cool. I think we were cool to have him.

Cactus, Mountains, Friends, Family - Home

I just came home tonight from spending a three-day weekend in Tucson with my good friend, Babette. She and I go back a long way (to the late 1960's), had lost touch for awhile, but now try to visit every year or so. And we had a great time. Drank wine, hung out, laughed a lot. All good things.

Back in the late 60's the cool thing to do was wear a piece of yarn in your hair that matched your outfit. And we were nothing if not cool! Yes, we've aged - but we still have our cool moments. The photo below is at my 60th birthday party. Babette came up from Tucson to join in the surprise.

We had a great time this weekend and I saw many parts of Tucson that were new to me. The city has really grown up. Since my dad moved from Tucson to Chicago in 2002, I had only been back twice. But I think that will change now and I look forward to more frequent visits. It's still my "home" and there is a different feeling there - something safe and solid. The mountains are still incredible and the desert is still beautiful. My history is there, I still have family there, and Babette is there.

I find the older I get, the more I cling to those friends who knew me in the "old days", who share portions of my history with me, who know the changes I've gone through.

And not one single episode of dog poop in a burning bag

Last night was Halloween which is always a fun time in our neighborhood. For the past two years my grandkids have come over and gone around our area so that's been really fun. Last year was their first Halloween ever and this year they could hardly wait.

Ed decided to dress up last year in all black. For some reason (probably better that I don't know) he has a Zorro cape and hat. So he donned these along with black pants and shirt, and put black (clean) nylons over his face. Then he sat on the bench on our front porch. As kids came up you could hear them asking, "Is that really a person or a statue?" If they were older kids, he'd wait until they got right to the door and then put out his hand and ask for candy. Lots of screaming! Of course, when Vika and Eamon came back from their rounds, he was sitting there very still. They saw him and ran up yelling, "Deydushka!!" Didn't fool them for a second.

When I was a kid Halloween was so different. (No, I didn't walk to school through the snow, thre miles, uphill.) Every house on the block was open and waiting. People baked cookies and made candy apples. One older woman (she was probably 50 at the time!) used to collect pennies all year and put them in a big jar. Then we could reach our sweaty little hands into the jar and take a handful of pennies. Of course, back then teenagers didn't go trick-or-treating so the pennies lasted all night.

The police officers would drive slowly through the streets and hand out whole bags of candy to us kids. I would take a grocery store shopping bag and fill it up at least three times. Each time it got full, I would run home and dump it in the middle of the table. It was a glorious mound of joy. My mom would say that she was just going to check it for dangerous things and throw out any unwrapped candy, dirty stuff, etc. Somehow, at the end of the night, I would have one big bowl of candy. That's it! Three huge shopping bags full of loot and I wind up with one bowl. It wasn't until I was an adult that I found out she was giving most of it back out to the kids who came to our door after her stash ran out. I mean, really!

But she did make me an angel costume when I was six. Complete with gold wings and a gold halo. I remember wearing it to school and being so proud of it. My daughter actually wore it once or twice, then it just fell apart from old age. Sadly I don't have any photos of that costume, but these are two of my favorites of Jenni and Joe at Halloween.

Hope you all had a fun evening.

One ringy dingy

One of the side advantages to cordless headsets for cell phones is that people who talk to themselves are no longer so easily identifiable. Now, we ALL look like we are talking to ourselves! This morning at work a woman got out of her car, immediately started laughing and saying “Oh, no, you’ve got to be kidding!” very loudly. A few years ago I might have made a wide circle to keep my distance, today I just thought “bluetooth.” And, if she wasn’t talking on a phone and truly was crazy, just think about how much easier her life must be now that nobody really knows for sure.

Which, of course, got me thinking about how phones have changed over the course of my life. I so clearly remember the days when you had to dial (that involved putting your finger in a hole that aligned with the appropriate number and literally moving the dial in a clockwise direction until it came to a stop….) “0” for the Operator to call long distance.

“Hello, Operator, I want to call Chicago – number Axtel 8-2400.” All our phone numbers began with the name of the exchange.

If you were really cool, and could afford it, you called “person-to-person” in case some schmuck you didn’t want to talk to answered the phone. The signal wasn’t the greatest – sounded a bit like a scratchy record (that’s those round black things with a hole in the middle that you put on a special flat surface with a spindle and a needle ran across them making music…). When phone lines became clearer, I would hear my parents say the following with practically EVERY call.

“Wow, your voice sounds so clear it’s like you were in the next room!” Always said with great awe.

Our family also had our special code that we used for notification that we had gotten home safely from a vacation. This involved calling the people we had been visiting - "person to person" - and asking for ourselves. Diabolically clever. The operator would say in her best Ernestine voice, "I have a person to person call for Tony." Then my dad would say, "Thank you" to the operator thus allowing the person on the other end to hear his voice and know that we were back home safely. I'm quite sure AT&T was never on to us (!!).

Then phone numbers became numeric, dials were replaced by push buttons, and we were allowed to place our own long distance calls. Still couldn’t own a phone, though. Only AT&T could own them, the users just leased them. It was quite the event when we were finally able to actually BUY a phone! What will they think of next?!?!?

My great-grandmother was often confused by the phone and the ringing. Especially when she was distracted by her soap operas. One day she was eating a piece of bread with peanut butter on it and the phone rang. Apparently something exciting was happening on the tube because she slapped the bread – peanut butter side up – to her head instead of the receiver. Messy and very ineffective. Those time when she did answer the phone correctly, but didn’t want to be bothered, her “Hello” would morph into “What da hella you want?!?”

My maternal grandmother was a switchboard operator so we all got lessons in how to properly answer a phone. Apparently "hullo" or "yeah" wasn't acceptable. My mother had a beautiful phone voice and a sultry way of saying Hello. It was pretty funny when she was yelling at us about something and really getting into it, then the phone would ring. She'd finish her yelling, pick up the phone, put a smile on her face, and answer sweetly. Man, she could change vocal direction in a heartbeat. Cracked us up. She would always smile when she answered the phone because she was convinced the person on the other end could hear the smile.

My first cell phone was on sale for $99 through AAA. It was the size jumbo Hershey Bar with Almonds, weighed about 10 pounds and had this long extension antenna you had to pull up. I'm guessing we'll soon have phones so small they just get implanted into your ear canal. When it rings, you blink the right eye to answer, and the left eye to hang up. Won't even need a bluetooth. We'll all just walk around blinking and talking to ourselves.

And the winner of the not-the-best mother of the year award - that would be me!

I'm a very bad mother. My kids had a birthday last week and I didn't even blog about it! Their birthday was on September 12th, but we had celebrated on the 9th at my house. Then I babysat for Jenni on the 12th, and was busy the other nights and never got around to writing anything. Mea Culpa.

My kids didn't actually arrive in a box, and they were much younger when I gave birth, but this was one of their favorite hangouts at the age of 18 months. One thing every parent learns early on is that the presents are often less exciting to kids than the box and paper those presents came in. Until, of course, the age of 5 or so when the actual presents counts for everything!

This picture is my little angels kissing on their second birthday. I've always loved this photo - in fact it was on our Christmas cards that year. I think this was the last time they were able to get this close to each other without fighting - but it was a wonderful sight while it lasted.

On Jenni and Joe's first birthday we had white cake with chocolate frosting (that's still the favorite for all three of us). I waited and waited to get photos of the kids with chocolate frosting all over their face. But, as usual, they wouldn't cooperate. They chose that day to eat neatly! Hadn't happened before and hasn't happened since. So I finally got tired of waiting, stuck my fingers in the frosting and wiped it on their surprised faces. My mom was a bit shocked, too. But I had to get the photo! It was a rite of passage.

As they grew up they just got cuter and cuter (okay, I admit it, I'm prejudiced...). This photo is at my sister'wedding. They were waiting outside to throw rice (which was still legal back then). It's hard to believe I put Joe in that awful suit, but there it is.

Here they are on the first day of 7th grade - Junior High! Looks like Jenni has a death grip on her brother to get him to take the picture. Joe had scratched his cornea so had to start the new year with a huge patch over his eye. He was very unhappy about this, but I told him that the girls would probably all want to take care of him and think he looked very exotic. He was the hit of his classroom.

I was very lucky because Joe and Jen have always been close and sibling rivalry was kept to a minimum. Not that it didn't occur! But it would pass fairly quickly. They became very cool teenagers most of the time. Here we have them eating happily together - Joe with his mullet and head band, Jenni with her pizza.
Now they're adults with spouses and families of their own. It's an amazing thing to have adult children. They become your friends, but they are always still your babies. The worrying about them never stops, wanting to fix everything for them never stops, and god knows the loving them never stops.

2001

2007

From finding out AFTER waking up from my C-Section that I had twins - to them playing in a box - to the mullet and braces days - to marriage and kids. The last 34 years have flown by. I still have dreams of them as little kids, running up to me with their arms open saying "Mommy". They don't do that anymore - they'd probably knock me down if they did! But when I look into their eyes, I still see my beautiful little babies.

I love you, Jenni and Joe - Happy Belated Birthday~!!!

Sometimes one little typo is all it takes...

Oops! In a recent post about my own kids , I referred to my 4-year old grandson as my daughter's 4-year old grandson. She's had a rough week beginning a new teaching job, both kids back in school, no time to blog or relax. And now I've aged her by several years referring to her "grandson". Since her birthday is coming up this next week, me thinks she is getting a bit age-sensitive!! Poor dear.

Sorry, Jenni. Here's to my young, totally not old enough to have a grandchild, ever-vibrant daughter!!!

It takes several years to be able to look back and laugh

A while back my daughter's four-year old grandson decided to do a little remodeling in his room. Apparently there was a nice little chalkboard on his wall that he wanted to take into his sister's room so they could play together. The kid's scrawny, but strong, and ripped the board off the wall leaving a few large holes where it had been bolted on. My daughter told me about it and wasn't too happy. I, of course, thought it was a hoot! She and her twin brother certainly pulled enough of that stuff when they were little.

First of all, no comments about the hair.....

One of the thing you quickly realize when you're a young mother is that those kids can do things you would never imagine. And often so quickly that you can never be prepared. My son (doesn't he look adorable in that picture?) has always been a bit of a night owl. Often when he was very little he would wake during the night, not really bother us, but play in his crib or youth bed for awhile and then go back to sleep. But one night we heard this noise coming from their room that sounded like ripping paper. We tip-toed in to their room just in case they were still sleeping, and there was my adorable little son - standing up in his crib - smiling and looking very proud of h imself- peeling the wall paper off the wall! He figured out how to pick at the seam with his stubby little fingers until enough of it came lose and then - RRRIIIIPPPPP. So we had to buy a bunch of those strips that were used for paneling and nail one over each seam. Luckily he never figured out how to pry the nails out.

Their room had another strange configuration - the bookshelves were 12 inches from the ceiling. Sort of like a border on the wallpaper. This was due to the fact that they would both climb on various pieces of furniture and pull the books down on themselves. So we had to put them high enough that the little darlings couldn't reach them.

And my sweet little blonde daughter? Looks so innocent in the photo holding her little cup. Awwwww. She would climb on the top of the crib, lean over to the dresser, and eat the dirt out of the plant that was in her cute little Raggedy Ann planter! At first I couldn't figure out why there was always dirt in her crib. Then one day I caught her! There she stood with a wad of dirt on the corner of her mouth, looking like the cat that swallowed the canary. I decided not to call Poison Control (like I did the day she decided to eat some of her diaper rash cream), but I did move the plant out of her reach.

Actually, Jenni learned how to climb out of the crib not by climbing over the side bars. Oh, no - any kid can do that. She would climb over the front panel and do a header on the carpet. After several times of doing this she finally figured out it was painful and followed her brother's example by climbing over the bars.

Then there was the time I was downstairs and heard this loud crash, followed by silence, followed by my son crying. I bolted up the stairs to find him UNDER his dresser. I think he wanted to follow in his sister's footsteps of eating dirt out of plants and in order to get to the top of the dresser, he cleverly decided to pull out the drawers and climb up. Managed to pull the whole thing down on top of him. Except for a scratch on his leg and deflated ego, he was fine. But from that day forward his dresser had to be bolted to the wall.

They both tried that little trick with the drawers in the kitchen, too. So we had to devise a security devise which I think was a hanger pushed through all the drawer handles and clamped somehow so they couldn't open them. Of course, neither could I! We wound up with four of our kitchen drawers only good for things we didn't need very often.

And these things all happened before they turned three! So, when I hear my daughter's frustrations, I just smile. And whisper the word "Karma" to myself.

Tucson

This past weekend my kids and I, along with their families, (and, of course, Gnorbert the Gnome) visited Tucson. The three of us haven't been back there together in at least four years so it was a special trip. In spite of the "ohmigod" heat, we had a great time. All 10 of us stayed in a 2 bedroom condo close to the foothills. We took walks in the desert and also managed to hit a couple of Tucson tourist attractions like the Arizona Sonora Desert Museum, Saguaro National Monument, and Pinnacle Peak Restaurant in Trail Dust Town. One of the highlights of the vacation was our "trip down memory lane" as my kids called it. They wanted to show their spouses and kids where they grew up.

The first stop was the house my ex-husband and I bought two years before the kids were born, and where we lived until they were one year old. Of course, the kids don't remember it, but I sure do. How excited we were with our first house! Planning the landscaping, the rock wall and fountain we built in the back, our Palo Verde tree. So many memories of the kids crawling around in that kitchen, playing on the front porch, looking out the front window. The house where you have your babies is always a special place. We bought the house in the early 70's and hung beads in the front arch windows. Those beads are still there! 35 years later! The current owner was on the front porch so I decided to go up and let him know why these three carloads of people were stopping in front of his house. He said, "Are you Sandi?" I was a bit shocked that he knew my name, but it turns out that he is the man who bought the house from us. He even took a picture of me in front of the house to show his wife.

The sad thing is that the place was a shambles. Front yard overgrown, dead plants everywhere, an old car up on blocks in the side yard. In fact the whole street looked so tired and neglected.

Our next stop was the apartment complex where the kids and I lived for many years. Again, the place is so run down and there is now a wall along the whole front. But we did managed to walk through Ft. Lowell Park which was across the street and show everyone where my kids used to have a fort, and some of the places they hung out (most of these I didn't know about and that's probably a good thing!).

There were so many memories brought to life through the weekend. Stores where I used to shop, the area where my mom lived, my schools and my kids' schools, familiar streets, and streets that were no longer familiar, our favorite restaurants.

On Saturday night we had a wonderfully fun dinner with the whole family - aunts, cousins, siblings, grandkids - practically everyone who is left in Tucson. Being with my family has always been important to me and these types of events are few and far between.

But leaving Tucson on Monday I felt a great sadness - my history was there, some of the happiest years of my life were there, but my mom and dad aren't there anymore, my brother is in Chicago, my grandparents are gone. So much has changed. So much time has gone by. I feel like a visitor who barely knows her way around. It's home, but doesn't really feel like home anymore. I felt like I was in a limbo state - between my old life and my current one. How I wish I could go back to the days when Tucson was a quiet Western town - like it was when I was a kid, only go back as an adult to be able to really appreciate it. To truly enjoy my grandparents and appreciate the stories they had to tell. How I wish I could spend one more day with my Mom just hanging out or shopping. We always laughed so much when we were together and she kept me centered.

But I can't. Those days are gone. It seems like every time I go back there the "old days" are more faded and harder to grasp. And at times I want so desperately to be able to grab them and hold on for just a little while. I guess that's all part of getting older - the feeling that you want to go back in time and just be able to bask in the feelings and the people that are no longer here.

We're all home now and soon these feelings of being a little displaced will also fade. And someday my kids and grandkids will look back on these days as the "good old days" they wish they could recapture!