January set the tone. My brother got pulled over for a DUI on the military base here in town. Moron. He has no idea why he was in that area of town much less why he was trying to get on base.
February was a dismal month. Not only did my daughter lose her privilege of a friend oriented birthday party, my husband had to be halfway around the world from us, and we had two separate ER visits, but the incident I very affectionately termed "crash and burn" happened.
March is a blur. Cheerleading was winding down, karate was picking up, and the post funeral era hit.
April took a turn for the better. Consignment sale season hit as well as the opening of our pool! So what if the water was still 50 degrees and we couldn't put a toe in longer than two seconds, it was nice to look at blue water instead of a nasty green tarp.
May the excitement mounted. School was almost out. My birthday and talks of a Vegas wedding began. I joined karate which sparked my competitive nature again.
The summer was a blast. Days filled with bike rides and weeks filled with BFFs in my pool. We even took a trip to Chicago with Ryan. I hit a milestone with my niece. We potty trained! YAY! But most importantly, I joined the very fun and exciting Chit Chat Moms. :) :)
August was a fun fight as well. I love a good challenge. My brother put me in charge of getting his daughter enrolled in the Montessori program which my kids attend. It was a roller coaster ride, but just days before school was to start, she got the call! She was in!!!!
September brought after school sales and more consigning! I had my first experience with volunteering for a sale and found the deals were more unbelievable when you shop very FIRST. I will never go back to public day again! Oh, did I forget to mention I got married too?
October was a sewing race of costumes.
November was a crocheting race.
December was a blur.
And here we are at 2008.
Last thoughts on 2007?
The Good
My brother sobered up
My sister moved back to Omaha for a spell
My other sister passed math for the last time ever!
I got married
I got an ipod
I got a new craft room
I attained purple belt status
The Bad
Crash and Burn
Mom flipped out
Brother's ended a business partnership
The mall incident
Daughters stitches
Ryan's toe catastrophe
(wow, I should post some blogs about these, I forgot about them until now)
The Ugly
The IM conversations with BFFs telling them about my Dad
My spills down the stairs
My ex-husband's most wanted moment
My drinking night
(yeah, blogs to come about those!)
- Sara
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Monday, January 7, 2008
Sunday, January 6, 2008
Silent Tears on Belated Christmas
Sometimes it is the small stuff that restores my faith to full force.
I could go into great detail about the first Christmas without my father. We all know I am excellent at the long winded blogs. However, it was mostly story free. Christmas Eve was spent with his extended family like usual. In the past ten years we only got him every other year at this function, so it wasn't too painful to not see him at Aunt B's. Christmas Day is always spent with Mom. Easy again to think of Dad as not there this year.
Early or Belated Christmas with Dad was special because we would have it anywhere between December 15th and January 5th. I thought I made it through the holiday season without a freak out moment, but it was a false hope. My Mom-L (a term we coined because Step-Mom just doesn't sound nice) tried to have us over last weekend, but she was ill and rain-checked until today.
Still I had it under control. We hung out for a few hours at the house. No gifts this year. We were to eat hot wings and watch the kids do crafts.
Then she pulled out unwrapped "gifts." We were mad at her until we figured out they weren't gifts at all, they were three bags of Dad's stuff. He was a pack rat. The bags were filled with random items that she drug out of a closet. I almost lost it, but I still held it together. I even fought back the tears as I came to a photo album filled with pictures of my dad with my kids at various ages. I had to fight the tears harder when I reached the spiral notebook filled with his college aviation notes. His handwriting was amazing. Left-handed block print so small it looked perfect.
But what got me was the song on the radio driving home - one of our songs. Four kids in the car, Ryan at home sick, and I was bawling in the front. The type of crying that has no noise. My face wasn't even horribly pinched, just an overwhelming amount of tears sliding down my cheeks faster than I could discreetly wipe them away.
I pulled into the gas station near Dad's house and did my best to look put together before walking into the store. This is the moment I will remember forever.
A very nice looking guy (for those who remember the 90s, think Color Me Badd's Bryan Adams, yes I am a sucker for a guy with a goatee) behind the counter rung up my soda and even though I thought I was masking my dismay fairly well, he said, "Oh darling, don't cry, it will get better."
I lost it. Again, no noise, no scrunched face, just tears streaming down. As he took my debit card he did a good job of trying to ignore the tears since he noticed I was trying my best to keep them at bay. He read my last name aloud and said it was familiar. Since he pronounced it correctly, unlike most, I knew he must know one of us. My tears stopped as he mentioned my aunt's name and I confirmed I was related to her. As I signed my debit card receipt, he told me again things will look up. At that point I felt I should say something about my sorrow. I didn't want him thinking I was a battered woman or victim of some crime. In a near whisper I said, "It's the first year without my dad."
Immediately his face changed and said, "Oh honey, I am in the same boat. My brother died last February." What is it with February? His brother died on the 18th; my father died on the 16th. He was so sweet. He didn't have to talk to the crazy crying lady, but he did. It was enough to make me feel a little less alone and I only cried half as hard the rest of the way home.
It sort of makes me wonder why I didn't just grab an extra Dr. Pepper out of the fridge at Dad's house. Or why I didn't go the short way home past the other gas station. Or why turned on the music radio station instead of my usual talk radio or mp3 of Harry Potter. I guess somethings happen for a reason.
-Sara
I could go into great detail about the first Christmas without my father. We all know I am excellent at the long winded blogs. However, it was mostly story free. Christmas Eve was spent with his extended family like usual. In the past ten years we only got him every other year at this function, so it wasn't too painful to not see him at Aunt B's. Christmas Day is always spent with Mom. Easy again to think of Dad as not there this year.
Early or Belated Christmas with Dad was special because we would have it anywhere between December 15th and January 5th. I thought I made it through the holiday season without a freak out moment, but it was a false hope. My Mom-L (a term we coined because Step-Mom just doesn't sound nice) tried to have us over last weekend, but she was ill and rain-checked until today.
Still I had it under control. We hung out for a few hours at the house. No gifts this year. We were to eat hot wings and watch the kids do crafts.
Then she pulled out unwrapped "gifts." We were mad at her until we figured out they weren't gifts at all, they were three bags of Dad's stuff. He was a pack rat. The bags were filled with random items that she drug out of a closet. I almost lost it, but I still held it together. I even fought back the tears as I came to a photo album filled with pictures of my dad with my kids at various ages. I had to fight the tears harder when I reached the spiral notebook filled with his college aviation notes. His handwriting was amazing. Left-handed block print so small it looked perfect.
But what got me was the song on the radio driving home - one of our songs. Four kids in the car, Ryan at home sick, and I was bawling in the front. The type of crying that has no noise. My face wasn't even horribly pinched, just an overwhelming amount of tears sliding down my cheeks faster than I could discreetly wipe them away.
I pulled into the gas station near Dad's house and did my best to look put together before walking into the store. This is the moment I will remember forever.
A very nice looking guy (for those who remember the 90s, think Color Me Badd's Bryan Adams, yes I am a sucker for a guy with a goatee) behind the counter rung up my soda and even though I thought I was masking my dismay fairly well, he said, "Oh darling, don't cry, it will get better."
I lost it. Again, no noise, no scrunched face, just tears streaming down. As he took my debit card he did a good job of trying to ignore the tears since he noticed I was trying my best to keep them at bay. He read my last name aloud and said it was familiar. Since he pronounced it correctly, unlike most, I knew he must know one of us. My tears stopped as he mentioned my aunt's name and I confirmed I was related to her. As I signed my debit card receipt, he told me again things will look up. At that point I felt I should say something about my sorrow. I didn't want him thinking I was a battered woman or victim of some crime. In a near whisper I said, "It's the first year without my dad."
Immediately his face changed and said, "Oh honey, I am in the same boat. My brother died last February." What is it with February? His brother died on the 18th; my father died on the 16th. He was so sweet. He didn't have to talk to the crazy crying lady, but he did. It was enough to make me feel a little less alone and I only cried half as hard the rest of the way home.
It sort of makes me wonder why I didn't just grab an extra Dr. Pepper out of the fridge at Dad's house. Or why I didn't go the short way home past the other gas station. Or why turned on the music radio station instead of my usual talk radio or mp3 of Harry Potter. I guess somethings happen for a reason.
-Sara
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Home Life at Sara's House
As the newer Chit Chat Mom, I want to share some of my blogs to help you get to know me. The following is completely factual with no exaggeration needed. Most events happened during a two week business trip my husband went on soon after my father passed away. It began as a venting session during a night full of wallowing and missing the two most important men in my life. It ended with a realization I finally attained what I had always dreamed of having - a house full of kids and never a dull moment. I will admit, my home life doesn't always look this crazy, but it is close!
So, take a quick trip with me into the recent past take a glimpse of my world.
- Sara
Lessons I have learned in the past two weeks. 3-8-2007
Spare diapers that end up in the washing machine are BAD.
After breaking a washing machine with seven spare diapers, your first thought might be, "dang it, that was two dollars worth of diapers!"
The sanitize cycle fixes a washing machine that recently lost a battle with spare diapers.
You can completely shut a van door even if there are five year old fingers in the way.
Five year olds get wagon rides to the x-ray room at the children's hospital ER in Omaha.
Fingers that have been shut all the way in a sliding van door don't necessarily break, but they do turn purple.
It takes almost two full minutes to sweep up an entire box of spilled cheerios on a kitchen floor.
It takes under two full minutes for three 20 month olds to scatter 400 napkins across a living room.
When picking up and sorting 400 napkins, you wonder if it wouldn't be easier to spend few dollars and just replace them.
You can get purple marker off of ceramic tile way faster than you can get it off of skin.
You can't get black sharpie off of wall paper.
Strawberry toothpaste does not make good hair gel.
Strawberry toothpaste does make a good excuse to bath three 20 month olds.
Three 20 month olds fit in my kitchen sink.
Twelve inches of snow is enough to stop two days of school.
Twelve inches of snow is not enough to stop a woman on a mission in a 4x4 jeep.
After two days of being cooped up in a house, seven kids can drive a woman insane.
Five diapered children can go through up to 16 diapers in an average work day.
Diaper genies can only fit about 20 diapers.
It is possible to change five diapers in under 60 seconds.
If you are trying to break a diaper record, it helps to have Cheerios so you don't waste time chasing people.
If you are trying to break a diaper record, and you hit a messy one, concede.
20 month olds don't like to share toys, but they are willing to share granola bars and fruit loops.
6 month olds don't like granola bars, but they sort of enjoy fruit loops.
Hobby Lobby is great therapy.
When at Hobby Lobby with your best friend and eight kids under the age of eight, expect a few strangers to shake their heads at you.
The best response to, "wow, you have your hands full" is "not a hand full, just a heart full," even if you really want to say, "shut the $%^& up."
20 month olds like green olives.
You only have to drop an olive jar once to break it open.
There is a seven hour time difference between Omaha and Germany.
You have to dial 13 numbers to call Germany.
Germans expect you to understand German.
Some Germans understand you when you say, "okay," but they don't comprehend "gotcha."
If your man is in Germany, and you can't sleep, just log on to the computer at 1:00 am.
He will be able to say good morning and I love you.
When getting four sleeping children out of a minivan in below-freezing weather, start by moving the heavy sleepers first.
If you move light sleepers out of a minivan in below-freezing weather first, they will wake up, and by the time you get to the heavy sleepers, they are awake.
Four kids recently woken up by being carried in the cold prefer to sleep in mom and dad's bed.
Five out of six people can sleep comfortably in a king sized bed.
There are men out there that are willing to sleep uncomfortable.
7 year olds are the best help at the grocery store.
5 year olds help remind you what the speed limit is.
20 month old kisses are adorable when they master the smacking noise at the end of them.
6 month olds can hold conversations with the ceiling.
And in conclusion -
My oldest daughter doesn't care that I couldn't pause live TV, didn't have a remote, and had to "hold it" until commercials.
My oldset son's alien mom who is about an inch tall is STILL way nicer than I am.
My youngest daughter can climb onto the diaper changing table and jump onto the couch, but won't walk to the car by herself.
My youngest son can't crawl, but can scooch on his back, head first.
My man doesn't like German food
. . . . . and I love my life.
-Sara
So, take a quick trip with me into the recent past take a glimpse of my world.
- Sara
Lessons I have learned in the past two weeks. 3-8-2007
Spare diapers that end up in the washing machine are BAD.
After breaking a washing machine with seven spare diapers, your first thought might be, "dang it, that was two dollars worth of diapers!"
The sanitize cycle fixes a washing machine that recently lost a battle with spare diapers.
You can completely shut a van door even if there are five year old fingers in the way.
Five year olds get wagon rides to the x-ray room at the children's hospital ER in Omaha.
Fingers that have been shut all the way in a sliding van door don't necessarily break, but they do turn purple.
It takes almost two full minutes to sweep up an entire box of spilled cheerios on a kitchen floor.
It takes under two full minutes for three 20 month olds to scatter 400 napkins across a living room.
When picking up and sorting 400 napkins, you wonder if it wouldn't be easier to spend few dollars and just replace them.
You can get purple marker off of ceramic tile way faster than you can get it off of skin.
You can't get black sharpie off of wall paper.
Strawberry toothpaste does not make good hair gel.
Strawberry toothpaste does make a good excuse to bath three 20 month olds.
Three 20 month olds fit in my kitchen sink.
Twelve inches of snow is enough to stop two days of school.
Twelve inches of snow is not enough to stop a woman on a mission in a 4x4 jeep.
After two days of being cooped up in a house, seven kids can drive a woman insane.
Five diapered children can go through up to 16 diapers in an average work day.
Diaper genies can only fit about 20 diapers.
It is possible to change five diapers in under 60 seconds.
If you are trying to break a diaper record, it helps to have Cheerios so you don't waste time chasing people.
If you are trying to break a diaper record, and you hit a messy one, concede.
20 month olds don't like to share toys, but they are willing to share granola bars and fruit loops.
6 month olds don't like granola bars, but they sort of enjoy fruit loops.
Hobby Lobby is great therapy.
When at Hobby Lobby with your best friend and eight kids under the age of eight, expect a few strangers to shake their heads at you.
The best response to, "wow, you have your hands full" is "not a hand full, just a heart full," even if you really want to say, "shut the $%^& up."
20 month olds like green olives.
You only have to drop an olive jar once to break it open.
There is a seven hour time difference between Omaha and Germany.
You have to dial 13 numbers to call Germany.
Germans expect you to understand German.
Some Germans understand you when you say, "okay," but they don't comprehend "gotcha."
If your man is in Germany, and you can't sleep, just log on to the computer at 1:00 am.
He will be able to say good morning and I love you.
When getting four sleeping children out of a minivan in below-freezing weather, start by moving the heavy sleepers first.
If you move light sleepers out of a minivan in below-freezing weather first, they will wake up, and by the time you get to the heavy sleepers, they are awake.
Four kids recently woken up by being carried in the cold prefer to sleep in mom and dad's bed.
Five out of six people can sleep comfortably in a king sized bed.
There are men out there that are willing to sleep uncomfortable.
7 year olds are the best help at the grocery store.
5 year olds help remind you what the speed limit is.
20 month old kisses are adorable when they master the smacking noise at the end of them.
6 month olds can hold conversations with the ceiling.
And in conclusion -
My oldest daughter doesn't care that I couldn't pause live TV, didn't have a remote, and had to "hold it" until commercials.
My oldset son's alien mom who is about an inch tall is STILL way nicer than I am.
My youngest daughter can climb onto the diaper changing table and jump onto the couch, but won't walk to the car by herself.
My youngest son can't crawl, but can scooch on his back, head first.
My man doesn't like German food
. . . . . and I love my life.
-Sara
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