Regarding "Obli-cations"

DH answered the salesman's questions while I bounced Little Dude on my knees. We were just launching into our 90 minute presentation on "owning a piece of paradise"... just to get some free nights at Great Wolf Lodge for our peanuts.

Yes, we are nuts.  And NO. We will NEVER do that again. (because it took 3 hours... no joke. Ugh.)

Anyway... I was soundly ignoring Mr. Greasy-dude and concentrating on Mr. Cutie-Pie Little Dude when suddenly the Greasy Dude said something truly maddening. He dismissed our family vacations as OBLI-CATIONS.  As in, we are OBLIGATED to go VACATION with FAMILY.

Oh, horrors.

This guy was pitching water parks and sandy beaches just hours away.  Horseback rides and canoe trips, fully stocked kitchens and family time in a condo that is 1/3 the size of my house.

This guy didn't have a bloody clue what he was talking about.

Your poor kids, he said. Never went on a real vacation.

Excuse me?

No really. Are you serious, buddy? I almost spit my free coffee at him.

Our poor kids have seen more and done more than I ever did at their age. We have carted them through most of the U.S. -west of the Mississippi, and all courtesy of... family, and our horrific OBLI-CATIONS.

Hot Springs, skiing, Aquarium, Castle-hopping, sledding... all in Colorado.
The ocean, In-and-Out, Disneyland... in California.
Farms, friends, horses, goats... in Wisconsin.
Our amazing trip to CANADA this summer...kayaking, playing with cousins, jet-skiing, 4-wheeling, water parks, picnics, bon-fires, oh my gosh.... so much fun!

We are so lucky to have generous family and friends who live in such amazingly beautiful places, and encourage us to visit often. 

Our kids come away from every single trip with about a billion stories to tell. And they tell them for years.

Every place we visit is filled with people who love the kids, who play with them and listen to them.  They connect because we are family. And it is a joy to be with family.

When I picked the 3 kids up from school and explained where we had been all morning, they were indignant at the way Greasy Dude described our vacations. (Action Man very helpfully offered to go punch him in the face.) And they all wanted to go back and tell him exactly why he was so very wrong to make fun of our family vacations.

It was heartening to hear them jump to defend what we hold dear. And while I'm sure that someday we will be able to grab a week on the beach with "just us"... I'm happy to know that our crazy family road trips are carving out real memories.

And, yeah...  we'll take a rain-check on owning a bit of paradise.

Without all of our family around, it sounds kinda boring to us.


:)

Daybook: Road Trip Prep

This Friday begins the Nuttiest of all Nutty Family Road Trips. Little Dude and I will board an airplane and fly off to spend the weekend with my sister and her lovely family in Utah.  DH will load up the rest of the kids and our belongings and drive. 
For days... 


We'll meet in Montana.


And although I am sure Montana is a beautiful vacation destination... our final stop is Vancouver. Birthplace of DH and home to most of his family. Family that we haven't seen for over 3 years.


And so it begins.

:P




Outside my window~

Scorching sun and fresh-cut grass. Temps in the 100's this week.  We're leaving none too soon.


I am listening to~

The "big" girls eat breakfast.  In between bites, they are chatting with Little Dude.  He is munching on a bagel.


I am wearing~

White capris, long raspberry-colored tank.  White flip-flop crocs.  Hair in a messy bun. 


I am so grateful for~

Long naps for Little Dude.


I am pondering~

Every woman needs a tribe. Hang on to those you select for your tribe because you will need them as you age. And they will need you. As we move closer to the "golden years" we begin to realize that the gold part isn't so shiny. Middle age is tough, between caring for adult children and aging parents.  If we have a tribe that's seen our kids recover from chicken pox, graduate from high school, and even get married, they'll be with us by the time we need to research options for a parent we adore and who has dementia, too. They- the two or three who have loved us forever- will buoy us through those difficult middle years.

I know I'm not *quite* middle age yet.... but I'll turn 40 in less than a year from now.  And I'm realizing this truth so very acutely these days.  I need to hold my dear friends close.... both far and near.  I am blessed by them, by knowing them, and them truly *knowing* me.  I am so blessed.

I am reading~

The 10 Habits of Happy Mothers.  :)


I am thinking~

That being charitable is much better than being right.
Always.
In every single circumstance.
Justice should never trump love.

(And since publishing I have had *ample* opportunities to put this into practice. lordhavemercy)


I am creating~

A absolutely foolproof  packing system.  Complete with overnight bags and carry-ons. I will NOT fail these hurdles!  (laughing uproariously)


On my iPod~

Erm. Action Man has an iTouch. He earned the money to buy it.  Saved his little heart out.
I disabled a TON of things on it. Youtube was the first to go. (what a great Grinchy trick...) We are chatting and regulating like nobody's business. And he has been so good about it.


Towards a real education~

Researching all things Canadian.  Specifically, the customs/border patrol stuff. We're pretty sure Little Dude doesn't need a passport since we are driving through the border. I even called the automaton lady who assured me.
(sigh)
Here's hoping!



Towards rhythm and beauty~

My new decorating scheme? Suitcases! In all shapes and sizes. Looks lovely on any floor. Plus, it has the added benefit of being movable, like up and down the staircases a billion times... just because. (ask Little Boo) and?  You can pick up and leave at a moments notice!

(plus, it contains certain trouble makers quite nicely.)

:P


To live the liturgy~

Confession. I am clearly losing my mind.


I am hoping and praying~

For safe travel.  By plane and car. For calm tempers and tranquil weather.  For happy kids and peaceful parents. And most of all... for a healthy no-sickness 3 weeks!!


In the garden~

No veggies anymore.  Just trying to keep the grass green and the begonias alive. So hot and dry. Hot and dry. Hot and dry....


Around the house~

Piles of clothes... all clean, waiting to be packed up. Lists and lists.  Ugh.


From the kitchen~

Just eating up what we have.  Pork chops and spaghetti, anyone?


One of my favorite things~

Snuggles in the morning. Nursing Little Dude in bed flanked by the two little girls.  All sleepiness. :)


A few plans for the week~

Seriously? :P



A picture thought I am sharing~

Cutie-pie crocs and chunky legs.  Love. it.

:)

Who Will Lift You Up?

A year and a half ago, I wrote an entire series of my trip home to NY for the funeral of  my Grandfather.

Here.
Here.
Here.

And the one I want to focus on is here.

The one where I remember (so vividly, still!) the picture I have stored in my mind of my ten male cousins, bearing my Grandfather to his final resting place. Their faces, so stern... their backs, so proud.  The casket, laden with the American flag.  It was a scene of pride and sorrow.  I will never forget it.

And now, with the passing of my Grandmother, less than two weeks ago, the story behind the picture has been revealed.

Apparently, the director of the funeral home was in a bit of tizzy regarding the number of pallbearers.  He "had words" with my older cousin, fussing over the enormous amount of young men who would be carrying the casket.  My older cousin looked him in the eye and told him to "deal with it."  In other words, buddy, we all will be sharing this honor.  No one will be left out.  You have ten pallbearers.  Just deal.

And again, when my Grandmother was laid to rest... these same ten young men would carry her, ever-so-gently, to her place beside my Grandfather. Not having been there, I can only imagine the care and love with which they did their duty.  Yet once again, the funeral director was forced to stretch his resources in accommodating such a large number of pallbearers.  And from what I heard, he wasn't too pleased.  He normally doesn't have this many... it isn't the normal protocol....

Which got me thinking.

How many old people, Grandmothers and Grandfathers, die alone?  How many are carried to the graveside by strangers?  How does this happen?  Is it the person's fault?  Is it indicative of the lives they have led?  Or more indicative of those who were supposed to love them to the end?

And what a witness, to the type of people my Grandparents were.  The funeral home was packed at all the viewings, likewise the church for the funeral mass.  Their love for each other gave life to a whopping 26 grandchildren... 10 of whom were strapping boys.  Boys who grew up to be strong young men.  Strong enough to lift the burden of love to it's final rest.

It is something for all of us to think about.... to ponder.  When it comes down to it, when it comes to the final end...

When love is all that is left...

Who will lift you up?

Leaving Good Behind

Yesterday was not what you'd call a stellar day in the Nut House.

By the time dinner was over, I was nursing a Smirnoff and ignoring the chaos surrounding me.  The little girls were fighting, chasing each other all over the downstairs, Sports Fan was moaning in agony, sure that we'd have to amputate his foot because he had stepped on a pencil earlier in the day, and Action Man was punctuating the air with complaints about the state of his uncompleted schoolwork.

Glancing at the clock and noticing the late hour, I rallied the troops.  Little Dear and Little Boo did the dishes, then cleaned up the living areas.  The boys tidied (most of) the homeschool room, and then they were all sent upstairs, leaving a semblance of peace and order.... some good behind.

I continued my pity-fest on the couch with my feet up.  Only one week left to go until Little Dude is born, but I have about a billion things to do.  And the weight of that knowledge plus the burden of other thoughts weighed on me.  Throw in some whacked out hormones, and you've got yourself one outrageously emotional Mama.

When despair starts to creep in, my instincts are to circle the wagons.  I can only deal with a shrunken universe.  My arms clench at my sides, and I bring the little ones in close.  I surround myself with kindness and mercy and venture no farther than what I deem comfortable.  This is not just a physical limitation, but a spiritual and emotional one as well.  Little Love and I read story after story today.  We sat quietly for so long, her head resting on my belly, that she suddenly popped up, looked at me and sighed.. what a loonnnggg snug that was, Mama!  And off she went to play.

Making my way to my doctor's appointment today, my feet dragged, knowing that this would be the last time I see this building before Little Dude was born.  My next appointment would be postpartum, and while I couldn't wait to be holding the little guy, the state of my physical being was not something I was looking forward to.

There are many "lasts" these days... My thoughts always begin with "This time next week..." because, indeed, this time next week, I will be in the hospital, and Little Dude will be born.  He and I will have come through the surgery with flying colors (God-willing) and I will be holding him in my arms. And then the uphill climb of recovery will begin.  And for that, I simply cannot wait.  I am not a patient patient.  But I am eager to begin ~possibly my last~ babymoon. It is always a time of simple joy and peace.  To have baby at home, and to experience the neediness of tending to one so dependent and helpless.  To be fulfilling just the basic needs, and to smile at the smallest of creation.

So, my dear friends, the blog will most likely be very quiet until the big announcement next Thursday.  I need to leave good behind... to prepare our home and lives for this most joyous event.  To ensure.. as best as I can... that those who will be helping out on the home front (thanks, Mom and Dad!) have a smooth transition, and that our veteran members of the Nut House will not be wading in chaos, but can truly enjoy this exciting time.

Please keep us in your prayers.  I know that all will be well.  And I truly cannot wait to introduce the newest Nut House member to all of you!


:)

{this moment}

{this moment}- a single photo, no words, capturing a moment from this week.

This one taken from our trip to Colorado two weeks ago, celebrating my mom's birthday.

:)

Seven Quick Takes... Vol I

No, I've never ever in my blogging years have done this quick takes thingy before.  But my brain is fried and my house is a mess and we are all still wishing we were in Colorado at my parents house sipping hot tea in the freezing cold mornings and watching the deer nibble on the grass outside.

~1~

Yes, we took one last summer trip to the Rocky Mountains to terrorize see my parents last week.   13 hours there, 12 hours back.  And 8 glorious days in humane temperatures.  We warned the kids that there would be no. special. trips. once we got there.  Only unlimited outdoor playtime.  The first day was a bit rough, with sleep deprivation and the whole not-used-to-playing-outside thing... but after that, they made full use of the woods, tree house, and hot tub... along with movies and board games and coloring and playing with Grandma's stash of kid toys. I got a lot of school planning done, and it was just simply heavenly all around.

~2~

Oh! But we did take them places... never fear.  My mom and I drove 2 hours with the kids to the Hot Springs to spend the day in the spring-fed river, pools, and water slide.  It was awesome.  The kids had a blast, and I loved the unlimited water/sun-minus-humidity combo. A stop at the ice cream store on the way home was the cherry on top. The next day, my folks took all the kids out so DH and I could go get lunch by ourselves.  That, too, was amazing.  And much-needed.
:)

~3~

As much fun as it was, we may never go away again.  :P  Upon arriving home, we noticed that our cat was covered in "dirt"... which was quickly ascertained to be dried blood... which was quickly traced to his tongue... which had been cut on his cat food can... which we had told the neighbor to just open for him every day.  Well, apparently by the end of the week, he had somehow attacked the can with a vengeance and split his tongue.  Off to the vet DH went (after driving 12 hours that day) to shell out a small fortune to have the cat put under general anesthesia so his tongue could be stitched up.  Antibiotics and 2 days later, he re-opened the wound and we'll just have to leave it.  Totally worth the original $500 we plunked down, dontcha think?  Ugh.

~4~

The second day we were home, the upstairs bathroom had a bit of an overflow problem.  I got the phone call from an oh-so-calm Sports Fan as I ran errands around town.  The first words out of his mouth when I answered my cell phone were:

OHMYGOSH MOMCOMEHOMEQUICKTHE  (mumble mumble)WATERPOURING (mumble)CEILING(mumble) HOMESCHOOLROOM(mumble)FLOODING!!!!!

Yes.

That was just what I wanted to hear.

~5~

DH's initial reaction to this incident is not blog-approved.  However, by the time he came home from work, he actually hugged the offending party and assured the person that it was fixable, not to worry.  Then he stood there with his hands on his head staring up at the ceiling for a long time.  Which made Little Boo pronounce him to be in a "bad mood" so no one should talk to him.
:P

~6~

Soccer season is upon us!  Little Boo had her first practice yesterday, after watching Lil Sis' first game.  Sports Fan is also playing this year (different team, different field, different organization altogether... sigh) But the two of them have been practicing together non-stop.  I am constantly yelling at them to pick up their cleats and shin guards and will they please put their socks in the wash?  But I do love this time of year... it means Fall is on the way!  And who doesn't love Fall?

~7~

Which leads me to my final "take."  Little Dude is set to make his appearance (via c-section) Oct 29th. He's growing well (and so am I, thankyouverymuch).  There are still times I look down at my stomach and can't believe I'm pregnant. (I know, my grasp on reality is stellar) But it's more of a joyous disbelief.  I still worry, believe it or not... and I know I will, until we both come out of surgery with clean bills of health.  If you think of it, between now and then, would you mind offering a prayer up for us?  I really really hate this surgery... and this will be my fourth time going through it.  I need peace.. in my heart and mind... that all will be well.
Thank you, friends!


Go visit Jen at Conversion Diary for more Quick Takes.

:)

A Nutty Thanksgiving...

.... in pictures....

:)

































































































































:)

The Butter Dish

You can tell a lot about a family by looking at their butter dish.

If it's crystal... no kids.

If it matches the plates... maybe one child, or at least a newborn.

If it is chipped and/or mis-matched or does not have the top... probably a few children.

If there is no butter dish, only a small dessert plate, and the contents are mashed beyond buttery recognition... you are at my house.

:)

My mother is a genius in the realm of butter dishes.

She has a metal one.

Completely lightweight, sporting a classy black handle, this butter dish is indestructible. And when I opened it that first evening, the butter was smooth and unblemished. How lovely! I couldn't wait to sink my knife in and spread it's goodness all over our french bread.

Fast forward a few days.

Madly dashing around the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on a meal for the masses, I opened the butter dish and my heart sank. Gone were the smooth edges, the firm corners, the anything-that-remotely-resembles a stick of butter. In it's place was a big messy mosh of creamy yellow. With lots of bagel bits mixed in. The culprit was clearly Sports Fan. He had been scarfing down bagels since we arrived, and his buttering skills had not improved a whit.

I sighed a Mama-sigh and wondered to myself if I would ever possess a smooth wedge of butter again.

I thought about my parents, and how they would once again have smooth butter, but -alas- not until after we leave.... and could I even salvage what was left and make it presentable for the table?

And then my Mom walked in the door, home from work. The grand kids surrounded her and hugged her, calling out to the various siblings and relatives...

Grandma's home! Grandma's home!

Little Love danced and twirled, Little Boo jumped up and down. And my Mom's tired face broke into a grin. She hugged me and surveyed the dinner plans while the kids regaled her with stories from the day. A young babe was placed into her arms for a fervent snuggle, and a glass of wine was poured...

I cleaned up the butter in the dish that night, adding half of another stick to make it look decent. But I didn't begrudge the messiness. It's another way these children thrust themselves into our lives. The mastery of spreading butter neatly will come another day. For now, they have a more important task.

They teach us to look beyond the mess and the noise. To wonder at the mundane and the beautiful. To notice their handiwork, even in the butter, and realize that you will miss these days. These days when even your butter dish tells the story of the crazy love and joy that is your life.

:)


~cross-posted to DFW Catholic.

Undying Love

My Grandmother has Alzheimers.

When Little Boo was about 10 months old, we made the trek up to NY for my Grandparent's 60th anniversary. It was a huge celebratory weekend. Everyone came.

My Grandmother was in high spirits, as was my Grandfather. Yes, they were getting old, but the love they had for each other was stronger than ever. They shuffled a few steps on the dance floor, they held hands, they kissed. It was beautiful.

When introducing me around to her friends, my Grandmother kept repeating herself, then she would catch it and make a joke. We all chuckled along with her, but there was an underlying fear. Alzheimers runs in the family. My Grandmother's Mom also suffered from the disease. I had heard enough Great-Grandma Faivre stories to fill a book.

This latest trip to NY for my Grandfather's funeral, my Grandmother didn't know who I was at all. I couldn't really expect her to. I haven't been around very much. My parents and brother and sister and I stayed at her house, so I had a lot of time to watch and learn about this amazing woman. Even in her dementia, she remains my Grandmother.

Read the rest here.

:)

Life Lessons Part III

Don't look at his lips. They did an awful job. See? Those are all wrong.

This was my youngest Aunt "tawking" (NY accents abound here.. and mine has come back with a vengeance... wanna hear? give me"cawl!") and she smirked. My Mom feigned dismay. And my Aunt replied, How else are we going to get through this?

She is absolutely right.

One of my cousins spoke the last night of the wake. He said the last time he saw Grandpa (and here he got a little choked up) Grandpa slipped him $30 and said he wished it could be more. We all smiled and shook our heads, thinking how much Grandpa had given all of us with his love and his life. My cousin grinned at us and told us what he said in reply.

He said; I do too.

Everyone cracked up.

My extended family possesses such a quick dry wit, the sarcasm drips off of every tongue and the Uncles are the worst. Apparently my male cousins are fast learners.

Where did we get this from? This dark humor, so funny, so self-deprecating, with lots of teasing to go around?

From him, our Grandpa. He was always easier on the daughters and granddaughters. But the sons and grandsons? It was open season. And always with a wink and a twinkle in his eye so we were sure he wasn't serious. We knew we were loved and treasured. We also knew that everyone was aware of our downfalls, and that to poke fun at human nature was the best defense.

We learned to laugh. To see the humor and irony in life. We learned not to take ourselves too seriously... and now I can just hear my Uncle say Well, maybe everyone but Marc. And the laughter would start again, and my older cousin would acknowledge this shot with a wave of the hand and a nod in agreement.

It punctuated our visits, weaving the silver around the clouds of sadness that sometimes occurred. It was comforting to see that that will never change.

The tears mingled with the laughter this past weekend.

It's part of the legacy that was left to us all.

Life Lessons Part II

Ah, Meg... He loved you so much.

The eldest of the siblings, my Aunt M, enfolds me in her arms and the sobs give way.

I had just walked into the room and she spotted me and quickly came over. I turn from her, wiping my eyes, and my Godfather holds me close and tells me of his dream the previous night. My Grandfather had come to him, sternly scolding him for his grief.

I'm not rattling around in some box, he had said with disdain. That's not me anymore.

I'm so peaceful now, my Godfather tells me. His confidence and support strengthen me as I make my way to the front.

As I wait my turn at the casket, my Mom and Dad come over and we hug for a long time. This is so hard, I think. This first meeting since we heard the news. It's almost like the reality of the situation is validated now that we are all together. I remember when Lil Sis came home the day we found out. My mom had called her after her class, to tell her before she got to me. I did not want to be the one to break the news. When she walked in the door, our eyes met, all rimmed in red and seething pain, and she rushed upstairs. I buried my head in the laundry and focused on the task at hand. Words would come later. There were chores to be done and lunch to make first.

(to be continued...)

Life Lessons

I wasn't intending to, but this will be a multi-part post. One short snippet is not enough...
I need to write it out, to get it out, to share my heart. Please be sensitive in your comments. It has been hard enough for me this weekend. And it will continue to be difficult for awhile.


I just returned from my trip to NY for my Grandfather's funeral, and I bring home a heavy heart and a wearied soul.

It was a very emotional weekend to say the least.

I wish I could sufficiently explain the dynamics of my extended family. As it is with all situations and people, you just cannot fit them into a box and label them.

It takes time and experience to fully understand someone, and I have had my whole life and many experiences with my NY relatives, but I just don't have the time (or energy right now) to do justice to their charism of love and family loyalty.

Think NY Irish Mafia. Without the criminal activity, of course.
;P

I'm the second oldest grandchild of 26. My aunts and uncles all had fairly large families. My godfather leads an "alternative" lifestyle, and he and his partner have been together for over 13 years. I know that may disturb some of you, but it is a reality we've accepted. Trust me on this one, it is not a battle worth starting in a family. It only causes unhealable rifts and resentment. Maybe someday I will be brave enough to write about my own folly in this regard... I bring this up because it is one of the experiences that I've had that shows how loving and forgiving my extended family can be. In fact, barring this last weekend, it is the best example I have of their love and devotion to family.

But, back to this past weekend.

I arrived at LaGuardia airport around noon. I was reeling from 6 hours of travel. (yes. please do the math...) Trundling to a ladies' room, I changed out of my jeans and into a black dress. I was being taken straight to the funeral home for the immediate family viewing time.

After exiting the secured area, I headed for the suited gentleman who was holding a placard bearing my name. He took hold of my suitcase and we walked briskly to the limo. If it were different circumstances, I would have felt a bit spoiled. My uncle is an insurance tycoon in Manhatten. But this type of treatment is typical down here, and I was already fighting back tears in anticipation of the day to come.

As we made the journey to "the Island" (Long Island) I maintained my composure and made small talk with my driver. Just pleasantries, not much else. I was dreading this first meeting with everyone and felt my hands shaking and was trying to keep my mind occupied.

At the funeral home I saw that most of my relatives had just arrived and were getting out of their cars. I thanked the driver as he placed my suitcase by the side of the driveway and drove away. Before I knew it, I was enveloped into the arms of my Aunt and the tears poured down. Hug after hug, and kiss after kiss, I greeted about half of my family.

And then, gripping my Aunt's hand tightly, I steeled myself and walked into the funeral home and down the hallway to where the wake would be held.

(...to be continued)

Prayers, please

My Grandfather passed away unexpectedly yesterday.

We knew he was not in good health. A WWII veteran, a NYC firefighter, and father of 5, he was always active. But he has been wheelchair-bound for quite some time now, and just very sad since my Grandmother suffers from dementia and has been very difficult to deal with. They still lived at home, alone, and my extended family has been amazing about sitting with them everyday and taking meals to them.

We knew that this day would come, but it was still unexpected. And we are all heart-heavy and reeling in sorrow.

The most difficult part of all of this, of course, is my Grandmother. Please pray for her, and for all who have to make some very difficult decisions in the next few weeks.

A lot of us are traveling "home" for the funeral. I ask especially for prayers for safe travel, and peace of mind for everyone.

Thank you, friends.

Tribute To My Dad

Written by my brother...


Another Gaff in the Record Books; And It's Not a Bad Thing

Ask him about what he did as an athlete in college, and he’ll casually respond with,“I played soccer, football, baseball and ran track at HofstraUniversity.” What he won’t mention is the fact that in 1968 he was named the first All American soccer player at the school, and the only other soccer athlete to receive the honor since then was in 2006. He also won’t tell you he still holds the single season record for most goals scored (19). Those facts are usually eagerly disclosed by his wife, without a hint of question. His humility deserves canonization, and it’s taught me the greatest lessons not only in sports, but in life’s journey. He’s my Dad, Ed Gaffney; and he will be inducted into Hofstra University’s 2009 Hall of Fame class on Saturday, February 7th in Hempstead, NY.

“Tim, you won’t believe this! Guess how much they’re charging per person to attend this dinner and ceremony. It’s ridiculous!” I responded with a quizzical look, and an internal answer of—a mortgage payment?—“150 bucks just to get in!” he snapped. “I can’t believe people have to pay that just to attend!”

Well, I certainly would.

This is for my Dad, a man who will finally be honored by the university for all of his accomplishments on the field in the late 1960s. Along with being an All American in soccer, he also played football, baseball, and ran track. Can you say “breather”?! I can’t even think of an extended family having 4 sports in their blood, let alone one person playing that many. Take that, MJ!

“I don’t know why people are making such a big deal,” he told me during the conversation in the living room. “I’m just gonna have fun with it.” This is a guy that’s so humble he probably wouldn’t even take credit for his own signature!

The athlete known as “The Man” these days by the current athletic director and soccer coach at Hofstra continues his humility in the spotlight; but what he has is what every other professional superstar should have—and that’s a sense of class, humility, and integrity. He displays these everyday to us as family, and the people with which he interacts everyday at work. Intimidating with kindness, and charming with frown-busting smiles, he exemplifies humane greatness. And now he deserves the recognition and notoriety, if just for one night, for all the dedication he has shown to the sport he loves. He’s the only person I know besides my mother who has walked the walk for thousands of miles more than he’s talked it. He owns the cliché of leading by example. 19 goals in ’68? You kidding me? Tell me he trash-talked those balls past the goalkeeper’s ear.

Saturday night will be a time my Mom and Dad will go back in time to those years that made him a star. Wish I could have a front row seat to his mind and all the pictures that will go through it as the host reads off his accomplishments. I’ve heard stories from him, seen pictures, viewed old super-8 films, and looked in awe at the All-American badge he has mounted on the wall. But nothing will compare to the night my dad will be inducted into the Hofstra University Athletics Hall of Fame. I’ll be here in Colorado, glass in hand, with a toast to greatness.

Dad, 150 bucks isn’t nearly enough if they get to hear your story. Did you notice it’s been sold out for weeks now? Congratulations, Dad! You’re Hall of Fame in every aspect of life, and your son’s hero.

I'm bursting with pride at my Dad's accomplishments... both on the field and in our family. we all love him and our Mom dearly. To quote Portia... "My Dad? Yeah, he's a rock star."

:)

When Family Comes to Visit...

~The laundry piles up.

~The floors stay messy.

~Chores go out the window.

~Sweets abound.

~Treats abound.

~Same with soccer games...




















































~Play time is on the docket for the entire day.

~Late nights are the norm.

~Ditto for late mornings.

~Monday comes much too soon.

:)

Of Course...

...we have to speak about our wonderful trip up north to my sister's wedding.

The weather was perfect, the bride was beautiful, and the flower girls were...

ornery. Especially the littlest cherub, who throughout the entire mass was threatening to disrobe herself and her Mama what with all of her antics in the pew. What a circus.

You wouldn't know it from the pictures beforehand. (see flickr on the right-hand sidebar) or even the ones afterward. (scroll down a few posts) Or even from the dance floor at the reception! My girls hardly sat down long enough to eat dinner. In fact, it was a good thing there were so many toasts and open mic opportunities, or else my little Cinderellas would never have touched a morsel.

































Party animals, wouldn't you know it.
















Um... wonder where they get that from? (here I am, swingin' with my younger sis)

















This picture was taken shortly after 9pm. Nary a hair out of place, would you believe it? By far, the best picture I have of the whole affair. (I'll try to snatch a few from my siblings that does justice to the gorgeous bride)


:)

Sneak Peek

As this publishes, we are seriously chowing down at the reception.


So here is a quick preview of those girlie-girl dresses.

















And this is the bridesmaid dress. The model is my younger sister, who is the blonde-haired, blue-eyed version of me. She and Little Dear have the same smile!


















My little beauties! Better pics when we return, promise.




















:)

Our New Name

Yesterday, my Dad's colleague sympathetically asked him if there was Pandemonium at his house.

To which my Dad replied, "No, they are coming in tonight."

Thanks Dad.

:)

Y'all Are Amazing

We made it.

We're here in the mountains of Colorado, amidst the tall pines and cool breezes.

And apparently, we're freezing our behinds off. But that's just if you ask my kids, who complained this morning that G-ma and G-pa had the audacity to open the doors when it's only 60 degrees... and likely to snow. Couldn't they turn on the heat? And explain to me again exactly why we are going to the pool? Might it be frozen over?

heh heh

We're having a blast.

Our trip yesterday was very uneventful, with only a few sprinkles here and there, a few awesome lightning shows, seen from a safe distance, and only a brief stint of hail to make it fun. It's because of your prayers that we had it timed just right, ducking around one storm in New Mexico, and dodging past two more as we scooted up the I-25 in Colorado.

I'm very grateful, and will be bugging you all again for more prayers when we return home next week. In the meantime, it's wedding fiesta time.

:)

It's 100 degrees...

... do you know where your nearest watering hole is?

And I don't mean of the alcoholic sort.

Yes ma'am, with yesterday's introduction of the first (of many) triple-digit temps, summer has officially arrived in North Texas.

Isn't that great?

We are celebrating by getting the h*ll out of here to attend (and participate in!) the nuptials of my beloved sister.

And so, off we zoom, to points north, to cooler weather, and family and fun.

It's never that easy, though, you know? We leave tomorrow, in order to avoid some storms heading in from the northeast (???) and today is going to be NUTS.

It started out with my quick trip to the tailor this morning to... um... get my dress altered again. (hi mom!- don't worry, it will be ready by 6pm tonight! heh heh good thing we tried them on last night, instead of Sat morning... heh... heh... ok, not so funny, moving on) The girls have a hair appointment at 11am, and Action Man might need to make a quick visit to the Doc for his sinus headaches that have all of a sudden appeared every 8 hours for the past 3 days.

Such is life when you are trying to go out of town.

:)

All of my little peanuts are in the wedding, and I can't wait to post pictures of them. The little girls look like miniature Cinderella's in their baby blue gowns. We tried them on last night, and they were so funny, bustling around in the bathroom, genuflecting and dancing in the mirror. I'm afraid they might steal the show. The boys will be serving at the altar, an honor for which they have been practicing since January at our own Sunday masses. It does a Mama's heart good.

This wedding is such a joyous occasion, not only for my sister and her intended. It is so wonderful to see extended family and old friends again. For my sister it will be a kind of mini college reunion, as many of her friends make the journey to be there. And, as we meet her future in-laws we will be forging new friendships and creating new bonds. They will be her family as well.

Wild to think about.

Prayers appreciated for our trip tomorrow. We are becoming old hats at this 12 hour drive, I know. The kids are troopers. But this ol' Mama worries a lot. Pray at least for a peaceful rest tonight and an uneventful day tomorrow!

Bless you!

:)