Happy New Year

Hap, Hap, Happy New Year!! So many blog thoughts...so little time to put them on "paper." I'm always anxious to see what a new year will bring. Well anxious makes it seem bad. I'm excited actually. I think this will be a good year.

I can't set resolutions. They freak me out. Generally make me feel like a loser because I can't live up to them. I set my sights too high and can't succeed, thus the LOSER feeling.

I have about 150 things I would like to do better all which fall into standard categories of be a better mother, wife, woman, boss, friend, daughter, sister. Ahhhh the list goes on. Shall I? Nope. Stopping myself from that long list.

And now I'm getting anxious just thinking about it. Gotta change subjects. Oh crap. I can't. Now I'm stuck in the thoughts of all the things I need to do better. I never should have started down this track. I KNOW better :)

As I read back, I started this blog with being excited about the new year. Gotta get back to that.

Whew. That was a huge digression that was near catastrophic. Perhaps a New Year's Resolution could be to be less dramatic.....nah, we all know I couldn't follow through on that one either ;).

So, I ask myself: Self, what DO I think will go well for me in 2011? A lot. We are on the track to ol' Dave Ramsey's Debt Free plan despite a November/December spending spree. The boys are getting older and more fun by the minute, if not by the second! Jeremy is DONE, DONE, DONE with paramedic school! YIPPEE!! I have the most excellent group of people to work with who make our difficult work tolerable every day. That's a good start.

Ok. I redeemed myself from my own freak out.

Sigh.

Dear Papa Dean

For his 80th Birthday party on Christmas Eve the family is getting together and offering a note of what we have each learned from Papa Dean. I won't be in attendance due to another family Christmas party but I am sending my letter. Here it is:
Dear Papa,
I want to be just like you when I grow up. I want to be on the cusp of my 80th birthday and still living a full life. I want to still be married to the love of my life. I want to be retired, but working full time because my work ethic is like no others. I want to have 6 grown children who are all as much the same as they are different; who are all successful in their own way, but don't flaunt it; who are all raising children and grandchildren to be respectful people and productive citizens; who have all had their trials and tribulations but have a level of faithfulness that is to be admired and copied.

I want to attend as many sporting events, band concerts, graduations, choir concerts, high school plays, talent shows, dance recitals, homecoming parades, and any other activity under the sun as many times as humanly possible just so I don't miss out on the events of my children and grandchildren. Even if these events are clear across the country, I want to find a way to get there and make sure whoever else wants to go can get there too. And I want to do this because I LOVE every minute of it.

And when I attend each of these activities, games, meets, events, and performances I want to meet people. I want to stand in line at the front door and know the person next to me. Or know their neighbor. Or know their 3rd cousin who used to live next door to my best friend. And I want to remember that person so that when I sit down in the bleachers or theater seat or lawn chair I can meet someone else that knows someone else that knows that someone else. And I want to say "This is what my Papa Dean always did whenever he met someone."

I want to teach my family to be competitive and appreciate a good win, but be respectful and have great sportsmanship.

I want to have 19 grandchildren (including their spouses) and seven great-grandchildren with 1 one the way. And I want all of those children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren to LOVE coming to my house for Christmas. Even when we might have outgrown my home, I want them to still want to come because there is no place else they would rather be on the weekend before Christmas.

And at Christmas, I want to hear my adult grandchildren talking to each other about their fondest memories of my house "I loved the kitchen in the playroom." "Oh, what about the rocking horse?" "and the Lincoln Logs." I want my grandchildren and great-grandchildren to remember reading Dr. Seuss books in my basement and playing on the back patio and the carport (YUP, I want a carport) in the summer.

I want to be there on my children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren's first (and second, and third, etc) trip to Disney World. I want to be in the pictures pushing the stroller and holding a place on the curb for the Disney Electrical Parade while everyone takes turns with potty breaks and snacks...and more potty breaks because of the snacks.

I want my children to start every other story with "On our way to...." or "we were on our way back from....." because it will mean that we have travelled and shown our children as much of this great country as we possibly can.

and lastly, at the age of 60ish I really, really, really want to be able to beat my 12 year old granddaughter in a foot race down Main Street in Gallatin just to say that I can.

Happy Birthday Papa Dean. I love you.

The holiday season is here!!!

Has it really been well over 2 weeks since my last post? Yikes! We have been so very, very busy already with the holiday season. Every day, evening, and weekend has been filled with something or other. This weekend was no different. Two parties in two nights and they were both wonderful! I love, love, love having friends and family in my home sharing great times and making memories.

I've become just a teeny bit obsessed with holiday decorations this year, but I'm trying hard to keep it under control. Trying being the operative word here. Hey, I focus my successes in other areas. Money management does not happen to be one of them. Jeremy tries to act like he is bothered by it but we all know he secretly loves all of the decorations. After all, he is the one who spruced up the whole outside of the house as a surprise for me and the boys a few weeks ago. He loves it every bit as much as I do. Maybe more.

My favorite part of the decorations this year....oooooo....I can't even choose. I was starting to write that I love having the boys tree downstairs with our childhood ornaments and the first few years of theirs. But I also really love that we found our childhood stockings and have them hung up this year too. Really makes me want to get fun stockings for the boys to start this memory for them. Ohhhhhhh, there I go again. Want, want, want. Spend, spend, spend. I'm in a spending, present-buying frenzy. And yes, I finished my shopping a few weeks ago. And yes, I continue to find reasons to buy more items. I love giving gifts and it's so much fun to find things that you just know people are going to love! Not things just so they will have something to open, but things they will really enjoy. It's the joy of giving! And I'm lovin' it!

I'm totally rambling here as usual. There seems to be something therapeutic about writing it all out. I know, I know. Too social worky. I actually got on tonight to capture in writing more of the funny little things the boys have said this weekend. I love that this blog is sort of an electronic baby book where I can keep track of their antics. They crack me up every day. But when my fingers started typing all that came out was holiday, holiday, holiday! It really is the most wonderful time of the year!

And let us not forget the reason for the season!

But I can't leave my blog tonight without just a few tidbits from the boys this weekend.

**Justin when my mom, Brett, and Grandma Dorothy got here for Leo's party: Jiminy Crickets, mom. They ARE here!

**Leo has croup this morning and sounds like an 85 year old man with COPD. He can barely speak or cry above a whisper and you can hear him breathing from two rooms away. He sounds so sad, but it didn't decrease his cuteness rating. He turned on the charm with Dr. Tina this morning. When she was done with him he whispered in his hoarse little voice "Oh tank you, mommy. Tank you Tina." She was eating him up! She said she has never seen a sick two year old thank his mom and doctor! That's my baby! I hate it that he is sick, but does it make me a bad person that I just love how cuddly and sweet he gets when he doesn't feel good?

**Justin keeps saying that Leo can't catch up with his breath. As if Leo is chasing his breath around the house and can't seem to catch it. Then he told Leo to "be wax (relax). I have had a hard day."

And my favorite from tonight from Justin while saying his prayers tonight in bed "Spirit is my favorite part of the cross. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Spirit is my favorite. I love every part of the cross and everything and everyone and every TV and everything beautiful and you are a beautiful mommy and I love you."

A perfect end to my weekend.

Hail Holy Queen

I have always been a Royal Watcher. Loved me some Princess Diana. Love the fashions, the drama, the fairy tales, etc. Was glued to the TV for her funeral. Loved watching her boys grow up. And yes, I will be watching THE WEDDING.

But this past Sunday when our Priest gave us the assignment of reciting Hail Holy Queen each night this week to pay respects to our Queen, he was not referring to Queen Elizabeth or the future Queen Kate..or Katherine...or whatever her title will be.

I thought it was a really interesting that the Homily this week was focused on a different set of Royals than the major media outlets. The focus was to worship our Lord and our Queen Mary, not people or things. People and things come and go. Faith is eternal and reaches beyond this life. Worship our Lord. Plain and simple.

We are empowered by His love each and every day. So I invite you, faithful blog readers few or many, to join in this weeks assignment. Instead of worshiping electronics, gossip magazines, websites, Facebook (although I know that is how most of you found this blog!), Hollywood stars, clothes, cars, and any other things or people, worship the Lord by saying a short prayer.

Hail, Holy Queen:

Hail, Holy Queen, Mother of mercy, our life, our sweetness and our hope. To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve. To thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears. Turn then, most gracious advocate, thine eyes of mercy towards us. And after this our exile, show unto us the blessed Fruit of thy womb, Jesus. O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary. Pray for us, o Holy Mother of God, that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ. Amen.

The ol' mean mug

Justin's special weekend alone with his parents is coming to an end. And he has gone out with a bang. Leo has spent all weekend with my parents for his special individual time with them which has left me and Justin to spend some great quality time together during the days and time with Jeremy the last two evenings. For the most part it has been a blast!

Not so much this morning. Justin was great for about the first 10 minutes of church. It was all downhill after the second reading. I was trying hard to pay attention to the Gospel and Homily but apparently that is not ok with Justin. He has been getting his fair share of attention this weekend and Heaven forbid that I try and pay attention to anyone else. So after several pouty looks and sassy gestures, I took him out to the back lobby for a quick "discussion" and reminder that behavior such as this might just result in the loss of time with his brand new build-a-bear. And this brought on the tears and a VERY grouchy "I'M SORRY." I'm pretty sure he wasn't.

So as we make it back to our pew, he puts on a HUGE show of pouting. Arms crossed. Trying to look up at me from his scowl to make sure I am noticing how horribly upset he is about being scolded at church. Lots of heavy sighing for effect. HUMFFFF.

And then it was time for his (usual) favorite part of mass: taking money up to the collection basket. I asked him if he wanted to take his dollar up and he barely nods his head yes. I gave him a dollar and directed him to the aisle....where he proceeded to shuffle slowly towards the front (we were about 12 aisles back) with his head hanging as low as possible without actually bending over. It was pathetic! Kids were making it up to the basket and back past him in the time it took him to slowly shuffle to the front. Oh, woe is Justin!!!

And I....well, I got the giggles about it. Yup, the kind where I can't keep it in and the more I watch him pout his way up to the collection basket the harder I laughed. It's not as if he could see me laughing even on his way back, because his eyes never came off the floor except for once when a child ran into him. But even then he just put his sad little chin back on his chest, heaved a deep sigh, and kept on shuffling his way back to me.

So when he got back to our pew, he climbed onto my lap and pretty much stayed there for the next 15 or so minutes. When I stood, he had to be held. When I kneeled, he had to be held. This poor, poor, sad little 3 year old.

And then he went from sad little pouty boy to an angry child. Enter: the ol' mean mug. This kid has a look that could kill. He can furrow his eyebrows, purse his lips, tilt his chin down just so, clench his fists, and then look up with an icy stare. I actually stared him down for a few moments, but felt that maybe, just maybe, that wasn't appropriate in church.

He maintained this look for the remainder of church. Thankfully he was never outwardly hateful or loud. Just consistently mean mugging me at every opportunity. I'm sure the folks behind us were getting quite a show. I'm proud to say that I never once lost my cool with him...probably because I was spending all of my mental energy silently writing this blog in my head :)

The only bright spot came right at the end of church when he asked quietly through clenched teeth to stay and hear the rest of the closing song. Now THAT actually brought a little tear to my eye. Through all of his frustration and anger, he wanted to stay and hear the music through to the end. NICE recovery, son!

I hope that Leo had a better morning in church...

Dance Party Nov 2010

Mama's Boy

What is a mama's boy? Wikipedia says it is a term for a man who is excessively attached to his mother at an age when men are expected to be independent

The definition goes on to say that in recent years, some have begun using the term in a milder sense, merely meaning a man who is emotionally attached to his mother. Though this sense of the phrase is still uncommon compared to the original pejorative intent, mothers in particular may state their pride in their "mama's boy" sons. It is also occasionally used to describe an infant or toddler son who is unusually attached to his mother...In this sense, the 'mama's boy' designation carries little stigma, but is simply an observation of the young child's primary attachment.

Well, my friends, I gots me a mama's boy. And just in case there is any confusion, I am talking about Leo :). He looooooves his mama. And I looooooove him right back. I wouldn't say that I identify him as a mama's boy with pride as Wikipedia describes above. I don't TRY to make him dependent on me. And it is certainly my intention to help him move along the attachment spectrum at an age-appropriate rate (GEEZ that was a little too social-workery even for me!). But I am woman enough to admit that he can melt my heart in an instant. Like his greeting for me every afternoon when I pick him up from daycare. He squeezes my neck so tight and pats his little hands on my back. Yup...melting....

He suckered me in last night. After a full day at my mom's house the boys fell asleep on the way home. I could just kick myself for not packing their pajamas which meant that I had to wake them up to potty and do a quick change-a-roo before shuffling them off to bed. He is normally very good about his bedtime routine and I don't hear a peep out of him once I close the door, but last night wasn't routine and...YIKES. So I laid down in bed with him for a few minutes and every time he would doze off a little bit and I would start to inch away he would reach out one arm, loop it around my neck, and literally pull me back into him. He wanted me squished up against him. Cheek to cheek. And honestly, there was no other place I would rather be!

I'm not sure if it is because he is my baby or if it's because Justin is already showing more independence than I am ready for, but lately I am spending more and more time basking in the love of little Leo. For I know that all too soon he will ask me not to walk him into school or be embarrassed by me (WHAT? MOI???) in his teenage years.

But today, I'm the mama of a mama's boy.

And I like it.

Maybe it's time for another....