This blog is a collection of stories on the ordinary days of today and a documentary of the days of the past. Thank-you for reading and allowing me to share. Enjoy your ordinary days and hopefully the bits and pieces of mine will resonate with the moments in your lives that bring you happiness.
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October 29, 2013: Vote for Grant
Even Cookie is helping
Last night was a late night fire drill at my house. A
Vote-for-Grant, poster-making, last-minute project surprised me at bedtime.
As I was on a video call with Garrett at 11:00 p.m., I
erroneously assumed Grant was asleep in bed. His bedtime is 10:30. My assumption
Mid-sentence, Grant blasted into my room in a complete
panic. It was as though the house was on fire.
“Mom, I need to make two posters for the Student Council
After taking all the proper mother steps of quizzing him on
why he hadn’t thought of this before and vowing that he was on his own, I
conceded to help him out. My rationale was that the child needed to go to bed.
In reality, it sounded like fun.
To my surprise, Grant actually had a vision and a plan. I
was simply his support staff. I offered suggestions on the poster board choice and
Sharpie color. Past that, Grant communicated the message and design.
As he scoured the art room for supplies, I searched the
Internet for his requested pictures of sad dogs. Then I printed my top four
picks in color along with his school picture. Grant’s handsome mug was a
perfect campaign shot as he was sporting a tie and a winning smile.
Poster in progress
Explaining that most of the council candidates had slogans,
Grant professed his differing strategy. Taping his 8 X 10 school picture to the
left of the first poster, Grant wrote boldly to the right, “Slogans are Stupid.
I’m handsome.” The bottom read in black bubble letters “Vote Grant Lane”
Enough said. No confidence issues with this kid.
Poster number two was filled with the sad dog pictures. In
the middle, the poster read “Dogs will be sad if you don’t vote for Grant”. On
my suggestion, a talking bubble was added to the pug. The sad adorable pug
appeared to be saying, “Vote for Grant Lane”.
Grant looked at his piece of art in satisfaction and gave
“This will get the girls’ votes.”
Okay. Grant’s support staff was impressed.
After school today, I was able to quiz Grant a bit on the
reaction to the posters.
“They liked them a lot. I think I picked up a lot of votes
with the sad dogs.”
And then my mothering kicked in again.
“Will you be upset if you don’t win? You won’t cry, will
After a look of complete appall, Grant assured me that he
didn’t care. And I believed him.
Tomorrow he will give his speech to the student body. I
stumbled on it in his backpack (see below). I’m just glad he didn’t bring up
the Affordable Care Act. I don’t think it would have gone over well. Khakis on
free dress day are much more politically correct. Good luck, Grant!
“Good morning, fellow St. Wenceslaus students and staff. As
most of you know me, my name is Grant Lane and today I’m going to tell you why
you should consider voting me to be on Student Council. These are my reasons
I will try to get sweatpants or athletic shorts on free
dress day or have khaki shorts or khaki pants on free dress days. And maybe
have a teacher vs. student volleyball game. I will take any ideas and tell them
to Mrs. Mohr and Mrs. Dowd and then try to get them passed. That’s why I think you should vote for me to be on the 2013
and 2014 Student Council of St. Wenceslaus. May God bless you all and
So Baby has graduated. Yes, it is true. The last Lane boy birdie to leave the nest. And the weekend has been nothing short of a whirlwind of events, from baccalaureate to party to commencement. All in about a 24 hour span.
After we closed the final night of festivities with a celebratory beer and wings with our extended clan, I finally laid in our comfy bed ready for some well needed rest. Carefully reflecting on our weekend of chaos in our soft quiet, Garrett asked how I felt. He knew how much I was looking forward to this milestone for Grant and for me.
"What was your favorite part of the weekend?" he asked.
Without hesitation, I knew my answer.
"Definitely the setting up for the party with Scott, Kat, and the boys. That was definitely the best."
Garrett probed further, as I am sure he thought the beer and exhaustion had an undue influence on me.
"Really? How so?"
As we lay in the dark, I went on to relive the 2 hours of chaos in our home before our 15…
I vividly remember being asked as a child to describe what I hoped to have accomplished by age fifty. This thought was inconceivable to my young mind.
"Fifty? That's ancient!" or something close to that was my roadblock to answering this question. So I answered with the stereotypical; married with children and grandchildren, living in a comfy home and....knitting by the fire??
But here I am almost to this milestone. The big one. So what are my thoughts now with my more mature forty-nine-year-old mind?
"I made it!!!!! YES!"
Yep, I'm thrilled. I can truly say that I have never dreaded a birthday or wished to be young again. Every wrinkle is earned and with every new ache, a reminder to enjoy the good health I have today. Reversal is not an option.
A wise person once told me that getting older was much better than the alternative. I have always held this thought close to heart. Every day really is a blessing.
This birthday will be celebrated taking in the bea…
I cried. I cried really hard. The ugly kind where my face scrunched up as I wailed like an inconsolable toddler.
It was as Garrett and I sat down to dinner a week ago. My brother, Matt, had left the day before to begin his new life in Arizona. It was a few days before that when my dear friend, Angelique, moved to North Dakota to start the new chapter of her life.
The hard realization was setting in that I was just weeks away from Grant moving to Colorado and life never feeling the same to me. My impending empty nest was feeling like an empty heart. So many emotions over so many changes. And although all these changes are good things, great things really, I still cried.
"What do I have to be sad about?" I continued to ask myself as I fought the tears away while making dinner. But I didn't win the fight. With my loving, sweet husband sitting across from me at the dinner table and asking the simple question,"How was your day?", I bur…