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Showing posts from April, 2014

April 28, 2014: The First Son

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A feast with the oldest child I do have an oldest child. An older brother to Ben and to Grant. That would be Zachary Scott; the first born. I don't blog as much about him. Not intentional, just out of sight sometimes means out of mind. And Zach is perfectly fine with that. Where Ben is a peacock, Zach is very comfortable flying below radar. Always quick with wit and never one to miss a party, but also not wanting to be the center of attention. Zach has a milestone coming up. His Big 2-1 is this Wednesday. True to his reliable 20 year old self, he came over to help me out tonight. After work, he ran his youngest brother to an orthodontist appointment and then shopping for confirmation attire. Following an impressive mow job on my overgrown grass, I treated Zach to dinner and a tank of gas. Tonight we dined on pizza and wings while watching the hockey playoff games at Oscar's. As a well-schooled mom of boys, I've got this venue licked. Two days shy of 21, Zach stu

April 24, 2014: Confessions

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I have a confession to make. But before the confession, I need to preface the setting of my declaration. Tonight was date night. With date night, typically comes margaritas. And with our Thursday night margaritas, we are almost always at our favorite hang out, Roja. And at our favorite hang out, we typically run into people we know. Tonight was no exception. Walking out of Roja, we ran into Ben's previous girlfriend's mother. It was nice to see her, as she and I broke bread on many occasions over our children's three year courtship. She commented on the positive feedback she heard on Ben's Senior Studies presentation. And then she noted a comment from her daughter on omission of Ben's family in support of his very important presentation. I had no rebuttal or excuses. There was no doubt I wasn't there. And with no good reason. I went on to explain that Ben didn't want me there. He and I discussed and decided it best that I not go as I would be to

April 22, 2014: Good Planning?

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The flowers of April I have always gloated on the fact that I have three sons with April birthdays. When proudly slipping this fact into conversation, I wait for the bite. The question I want to be asked. "All three in April? Really??" is the desired response. My standard line back..."Yes, I call that good tax planning." The tax planning I refer to is the 4/15 tax deadline that has loomed on my annual calendar for the last twenty-two years. My long-standing occupation was public accounting. After a pause, my next scripted comment was to explain how Grant defied tax planning logic with a 4/14 birthday. Zach and Ben, on the other hand, were nicely aligned with 4/30 and 4/29 milestones. Both born on their due dates. The first by chance and the second with some medical assistance. As a forever planner, I was originally smitten with the news of a 4/27 due date with baby #3. I had visions of group birthday parties and future adult celebrations with exotic de

April 13, 2014: Turbulence

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Me with Baby Ben and Cousin Gina Last night I almost boarded the wrong flight. It wouldn't have been the end of the world as the unintended flight was to sunny California. A pleasing thought, as I felt the cold Denver wind whip through the open door of Gate 29. I was supposed to be at Gate 30. The simple mistake was uncovered as I stood in the wrong line while perusing the boarding passes of those around me. I eyed an identical B34 boarding pass in the hands of a woman next to me. "How do we have the same number?" I asked the other B34 girl. "I was wondering the same thing," was her puzzled reply. After a comparison of paper boarding passes, she quickly noticed the discrepancy. She was going to Orange County while I was to go to Omaha. In unison, she and her fellow B-boarders directed me to the gate next door. <whew> A close call. As I gingerly found my correct spot in the B34 slot of Gate 30, I had a flashback to a day long before TSA. A d

April 10, 2014: Cracking Myself Up

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My brothers...Mark (far left) and Matt (far right) Their best friend from childhood, Rich, is appropriately in the middle Tonight was Date Night. A beautiful spring night in Omaha. Garrett and I enjoyed sushi and libations on the patio of Blue in Legacy. The conversation and stories were top notch. Date nights are sacred to us. With time as our most valuable asset, we are bucky about budging for superseding plans. From boyfriend and girlfriend to husband and wife, Thursday nights are always booked. Locked and loaded. This afternoon, prior to Date Night, I enjoyed some personal conversation with a business colleague. Somehow we got on the subject of dating. My friend commented on a man she had dated for a short period that seemed to have it all; looks, smarts, success. But he lacked something that my friend couldn't initially put her finger on. He was boring. On paper he looked divine, but on a date; a complete bore. She missed the banter. The playful dance. There was no

April 6, 2014: A Reunion of Sorts

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St Wenceslaus parking lot. Note Grant to the right, but no Ben. Today I enjoyed a pleasant surprise. With a weekend calendar full of prom and lacrosse activities, I barely noticed the Sunday entry for a Senior mass at church. The event was a mere afterthought. Ben, along with his former St. Wenceslaus classmates, joined together to celebrate mass and then enjoy a dinner in the school cafeteria. This was the first of their last hurrah's before they graduate. The last time this crew was together in this cafeteria was their 8th grade dance. Four quick year later, they were reunited again. Parents included. Our awkward 8th graders are now all grown up. Instead of chaperoning a dance under bright florescent lights with group dancing, the parents caught up on life. Some I have seen frequently since that last 8th grade event and others, not at all. As I enjoyed the hugs and company of the many kids and parents, my heart warmed. From stories of kindergarten programs gone wrong to