Tales of the Ordinary Days

As I walked into work this morning and shared "good morning" pleasantries with a co-worker, the comment came out of my mouth, "What a blustery Pooh Bear day".  Anyone who lives in Omaha can relate to my blustery comment as the wind shook all of our houses in the wee hours as we lay in bed.  And anyone who has raised children can relate to the Pooh Bear comment as most, like me, spent many hours during our kids' toddler years reading Winnie the Pooh books, watching countless videos, and tucking in our babes with the Pooh and Friends variety of stuffed animals.  I hadn't thought about my poor forgotten friend, Pooh, in years.  Yet this blustery Omaha morning, the visions of Pooh holding the hand of his dear friend, Piglet, quickly invaded my memory. Now the Pooh days are a distant memory with the only memento left in my house; a Pooh picture frame displaying a baby photo of Zach.  This picture frame sits in his now vacant room within ...

Embarrassingly I have to admit that I am one of "those" parents who feels the greatest satisfaction in my children's small victories in life.  I guess the good news is that I'm not a helicopter mom who has to experience these victories with them.  My satisfaction most times lies in hearing about them later. Yesterday I was out of town.  My youngest two sons were enjoying their weekend with their dad.  Although 550 miles away, two phone calls made my day.  The first one came from my exuberant 15 year old, excitedly telling me how he got his first real job.  He had been working on this food service job for over a month.  The restaurant was a new breakfast cafe less than a mile from our house.  Ben went in on his own accord after they opened and inquired on a bus boy position.  The manager asked him to come back the next morning for an interview.  With a breakfast crowd, this meant before 6:30 a.m. and Ben was there and punctual....

There is no better way to start a week day than dropping my kids off at school with impeccable timing following my organized plan from the prior night.  And, yes, this morning was blissful in this regard and fortunately more of the norm than otherwise on our week day starts to the day.  Sorry, Zach...I miss you, but frankly you were a bit of a boom-a-rang to my ideal routine.  I didn't realize this until you moved on to the big Frat House, but your not wanting to get out of bed or follow a morning routine during your senior year did cramp my style a bit. But now, other than occasional spats with or between my youngest two on insignificant items, our mornings go without a hitch.  This starts the night prior with both boys requesting wake up times (which are typically earlier than necessary), me asking why they want up so early, and then my reminding them that they do have alarm clocks.  My clothes are carefully chos...

I felt the urge to post an old daily journal entry.  I randomly chose a journal and then randomly flipped to this page entry.  Front and center was this picture of Grant.  I know I'm the mom, but could that look on his face be any cuter?  He was playing the role of "criminal" for Mrs. Brinkman's second grade class' "14 Jewels in the King's Crown"; an annual play at school as part of Lent.  This particular day was a Friday, March 23, 2007 and my journal entry for the day was as follows: "Today was gorgeous!  A top ten day!!!  I ran at 5:30 a.m. with Cindy and Kristi (what a great way to start the day with two of my favorite people :)).  I was a fill-in for Rotary president over the lunch hour and brought a potential new member as my guest.  Grant had his acting debut as the criminal in the Stations of the Cross.  Other than struggling to get the towel back on his head between roles - he was fantastic!  And my heart mel...

Brynnie rocks Baby Grant after a day in the snow This pix was snapped after a day of snow day frolicking...inside and out.  Brynn Marie Lane, my faithful sidekick and forever helper, would have been 12 years old and Grant, short of his first birthday.  Those were the days when Brynn would spend days upon days at my side; the daughter I never had, but the niece that I loved with all my heart.  The particular day when this photo was taken mirrored today's snow day and led me to seek out this photo memory .  Brynn had spent the night before at my house and we woke up to glorious snow...soft, fluffy, piles of snow. Zach would have been seven at the time and Ben, a mere four years old.  As was typical for me, I spent a good portion of our time inside cooking and baking as we savored the sweet smells from the kitchen.  The boys jumped from coloring to playing with "guys" to watching Disney movies.  But the outdoor playground called to t...

I just dropped my fifteen year old off at school for early morning weight-lifting.  It was painful.  There is one thing that is very obvious in my life and that is my kids are not perfect.  They are perfectly flawed; just like their mother.  The final debate (one of many since about 9:00 last night) with my fifteen year-old, Ben, was that all of my talking on the way to school caused his muscles to tighten up and restrict him from lifting (and he was dead serious).  Well, of course, what was I thinking?  Rather than discussing why he chose to spend a half an hour the previous night arguing with me over the ownership of an I-Pod that he and his brother were fighting over and how the situation could have been handled better, silence was necessary for his collective effectiveness in the weight room. My mom said it best years back and I have always remembered her statement.  "Zach is 90% like you, Sandy.  Grant is 90% like his dad, and...

Today was mass at St. Wenceslaus for Catholic Schools Week.  By my calculations, I have been to this annual mass about 14 times since Zach invited me as his "special guest" the winter of 1999 of his kindergarten year.  Having my sixth grader and youngest child, Grant, wait anxiously at the church door for me is one of those moments that all mothers cherish; our kids still excited to have us in their presence.  This will certainly be a distant memory a year from now as he teeters on his thirteenth birthday.  But for today, I will hold this memory in my heart. As he enthusiastically pulled me along up the stairs ("We're in the balcony, Mom"), he informed me that I could choose our seats.  I attend many school masses, but this is the only one of the year where I am allowed to sit by my child.  A treat for me and seemingly, Grant too.  We choose an empty section.  Soon a mom of Grant's buddy with...