Signs of Fall

I’m proud to say I wrote this post yesterday as I was playing hooky. I was supposed to be at a workshop, and I decided that I wasn’t going because I needed a mental health day. I needed it badly. And when I need a mental health day badly…it behooves me (and everyone else!) to be selfish and take it. On Monday, I begin working full time for the first time since before I became a mom…so almost 21 years. YIKES!! In 6 months, I will be the mom of a 21 year old. How in the world did THAT happen??

Anyhoo…while I have at times worked 40 plus hours a week over the years, I always knew it was a temporary thing during a busy time, and I always looked forward to the time when my hours would soon get back to normal and I’d once again have my 2 days off during the week. And typically, after a period of working way too many hours, my boss would force me to take some time off.

Those days are coming to a screeching, grinding halt as of 2 days from now when I will begin working full time, on salary, on a permanent basis. While I know it will be nice to have a guaranteed income, and I did get a raise, I’m so very apprehensive about working every single day. I always feel as if my life, my kid’s lives, my family’s life, and my home suffers during the times I am extra-busy at work, and I worry about how I am going to juggle everything now. In the past when I have worked that many hours, I didn’t cook the kinds of dinners I like to cook, my house wasn’t in the order that I like for it to be in, my laundry wasn’t caught up (aw, hell, I might as well admit it, my laundry isn’t caught up when I am working very few hours), and I came home from work each day mentally and physically exhausted and wishing I could go to bed at 7 PM. But again, I always knew that in a few days or weeks, I’d be back to my normal routine.

Now, THAT ^^ is going to BE my normal routine, and I’m frightened by that. Actually, I’m going to say my second colorful word in this post…I’m scared shitless by that.

Sooo….that is why I decided on a whim yesterday morning to play hooky. It was my last Friday of freedom! I baked some pumpkins and cleaned the house and made some caramels…I even curled up on the couch under a quilt and watched a movie.

So what does all of the above whining about how I have to start working more have to do with signs of fall? It doesn’t. So sorry. I will now get right to the point.

I have very mixed feelings about fall; I guess you could call it a love/hate relationship. On the love side of the coin…I love the crispness in the air that blows away the oppressive humidity of summer. I love having the windows open. I love the sky that is so blue without the haze of humidity dulling it. I love sitting out on my porch in the morning with a steaming cup of coffee while wearing flannel pajama pants. I love that I can enjoy my porch without being a Thanksgiving feast for mosquitos. I love when I go outside at night and smell everyone’s fireplaces. I love how when I am a block away from my office, I come up over a hill and see the river ahead of me with brightly colored trees of red and orange and yellow lining it’s banks. I love unpacking my sweaters. I love buying candy corn. I love buying beautiful little sugar pumpkins and the delicious scent they send wafting through my house as they roast in the oven. And I especially love the muffins and cakes and cookies I bake with those little roasted pumpkins. I love making soup on a regular basis…both old favorites and a few new recipes, too.

I love decorating my house for fall, almost as much as I love decorating my house for Christmas. This display started out on my kitchen table, but was quickly moved to the dining room as I realized what a hassle it was to move it all when we needed to eat.

My favorite thing about this? I only spent about $5 to create it. I had everything already in my house except the pumpkins.



Here is the same display at night with the candles burning:








I also love this:




A couple of months ago, I got a catalog in the mail and fell in love with a gorgeous arrangement of sunflowers and berries. I didn’t however, fall in love with the price.--it was $59. Again, not in MY budget. So I tore the page out and went to Michaels. I already had the vase with the rocks in it, and for $6, I bought a bundle of silk sunflowers, a small bunch of swirly branches and berries, and a small bouquet of little fall colored flowers. (Gotta love the 40% off sales at Michaels!) It’s not an exact replica of the one I drooled over in the catalog, but it is a pretty darn close tightwad version of it. I have always loved sunflowers anyway, and they remind me of my dear friend who has sunflower décor in her kitchen, so every time I see this vase of sunflowers when I walk in my front door, it makes me smile and think of her.

I bought these little sparkly gourds and the cornucopia basket on an end-of-season clearance last year at Hobby Lobby.




I don’t know why I liked those sparkly gourds so much as I usually like having fall décor that looks more natural, and let's be honest...sparkly gourds do not grow in nature. But I like them anyway, and my piano was the perfect spot to display them.

And I have to show THIS off:



I have always wanted an entire set of those dishes to use in the fall. But again, not in my budget. Darn money! I found that plate over the summer at the Goodwill store near my house for get this...$3! (Yeah, I sometimes shop at Goodwill...I'm a tightwad, and it makes me happy to find a good bargain).


Like I said, I love fall. I really do. I love everything about it. Well, almost everything…really, the only thing I hate about it is that those fabulous crisp days that blow away the summer steaminess are themselves blown away by winter dreariness and chill. I wish fall was followed by spring instead, because then I could enjoy it even more than I do. If spring followed fall, life would be blissfully perfect. Well, maybe not perfect, but I would be a happy girl if I never had to live through winter again…if I could go right from crunchy leaves and bonfires and pumpkin muffins to tulips and daffodils and robins and just skip the freezing temperatures and ice and snow. Blech. If there is anywhere in the world like that…I’m moving there!

That all said, I have really been enjoying fall. Last week, I bought these beautiful mums and a few pumpkins for the kids to carve. I bought them to use on the stage at the walk, and now they are a bright spot of color on my front porch, and I smile each time I pull in the driveway and feast my eyes upon them. Try to bask in the loveliness of the flowers and pumpkins and pretend that you don’t see the dirt and dead leaves on the porch. It’s okay if you notice the cobwebs…I’m harvesting my own Halloween decorations. Why spend money on those fake sticky spiderwebs when I can just grow my own?





I had to buy this one:




Those were the colors of my high school, and seeing it brought back some fond memories.

I bought this delicious smelling candle at Kohl’s a few days ago. It’s not obvious from the picture, but the jar is orange and sort of sparkly, it came with a cute wooden lid and a little metal acorn tied with raffia. I am going to have to find a way to use the jar for something when the candle is burned away.




A few weeks ago, I knitted myself a scarf in some fallish colors. I think this is my new favorite scarf pattern…I knitted it only a few days.




I have been enjoying the flavors of fall as well. Last week, I made some roasted buttercup squash for dinner. No one would eat it but me (crazy family I tell ya!) and while at first it pissed me off (wow, 3 bad words…I think that may be a first!) when I thought about it, I was glad…more for me to eat! In the last week, I’ve made a pot of chili, apple streusel coffee cake for breakfast on Sunday, an apple pie (of course!), and chicken noodle soup. I’ve also eaten way too many honey crisp apples.



Those things are like crack…I can’t get enough of them. Kind of like how I feel about fresh tomatoes in the summer—I gorge myself on them because I know they are only around for a short time. Unfortunately, they are also about as expensive as crack.

And in honor of soup season, I bought these cute little bowls because I was tired of eating soup out of the kids plastic cereal bowls.



I really am drooling over red and yellow Fiestaware dishes right now, but since Fiestaware isn’t in my budget…buck fifty Mainstay bowls from Walmart will have to do.

I was in Gordmans the other day, and HAD to buy this bag of coffee.



First of all, I love pumpkin spice coffee. It’s my second crack. I’ve already bought some, but I thought the bag was too cute. And bonus…it was WAY cheaper than the pumpkin spice coffee I buy at the grocery store.

I also have a new addiction that may or may not be limited to fall…homemade caramels. I’ve spent so much money on white sugar, brown sugar, butter, baking chocolate…all in search of THE perfect caramel. I think I have it perfected, but I may need to do many more taste tests, just to be 100% sure.

One more sign of fall and the impending winter…today was Justin’s last ever cross country meet. It’s kind of sad in a way…by this time next year, he will likely be away at college, and while I have known that, it just kind of hit me this morning. Here is a picture of him ready to cross the finish line at his last meet. Sniff sniff...



I will leave this lonnnnnggggg post with this photo:



I found that at Gordmans and of course, I had to buy it. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with it...maybe put it on the desk and use it for bills. Maybe paying bills won't be so depressing if I have that motivational quote to look at every time I place another one in the box.

October 15

How’s that for a creative, original blog post title? A date…October 15. Yet this date is significant for a couple of reasons. Yesterday would have been my dear Aunt Mary’s 100th birthday if she were still alive. She died nearly 10 years ago, just a few months after her 90th birthday, and not many days go by that I don’t think of her and miss her much.

Saying she was my dear aunt doesn’t begin to describe my relationship with Aunt Mary. I know there are folks out there who have loving and close relationships with an aunt or a niece. I have a niece I have always had a pretty awesome closeness to, but it is nothing comparable to what I had with my Aunt Mary. In so many ways, she was like a second mother to me.

Aunt Mary was my great aunt…my dad’s aunt, his mother’s only sister, and she could not have children. I don’t know what was wrong that made her unable to, but she told me once it could have been corrected with a simple surgery. However, her husband, my Uncle Dan, wouldn’t allow her to have the surgery; he told her that if God had meant for her to have children, he would have made her so she could. I can’t imagine what that must have been like for her because she loved children. And children loved her. I know I did. She was a gentle, sweet lady filled with so much love to give as well as genuine goodness. When she turned 90, in October of 2001, our family threw a surprise birthday party for her, and close to 100 people attended. When we sent out the invitations, we asked those invited to either send or bring a letter about their favorite memory of Aunt Mary, and we read them at the party. The memories and love shared in those letters was truly heartwarming, and I loved every minute of watching her face as she intently listened to every story…I loved watching as she smiled that beautiful smile of hers and as she wiped away the tears at times. Even now, nearly 10 years later, I am in awe of this woman who had no children yet had so very many people who adored her.

From the time I was a little girl, I was always told by my mom that Aunt Mary “spoiled” me. I don’t remember ever feeling spoiled by her, at least not in the way that most people think of being spoiled—I think that most think of a spoiled child as one who is showered with material things, who comes to expect them, and is somewhat of a brat. But that is not how Aunt Mary spoiled me. She lavished me with her love and care…her favorite “pet name” to call me was Dear One…even through the teen years, and college years, and even after I married and had children. No letter or card ever came to me without the greeting, “Dear One” as the salutation. And the really special thing about her…she had many nieces and nephews, many great nieces and nephews, and even a few great-great nieces and nephews, and everyone felt just as loved by her as I did. My kids still tell me at random times out of the blue how much they miss Aunt Mary. She celebrated every new baby that arrived in the family with much fanfare. Perhaps this was because she truly knew what a miracle they were since she was unable to have her own.

I have written many things over the years about this lovely woman who was so very dear to me; I could probably write a book about all of the reasons why. But a blog post will have to do! I tried to post this last night, but I was so tired and nodding off at my computer as I tried to write, so I gave up and decided to try again today. Although maybe I should have kept the oil burning last night because now that it’s a new day and I am feeling quite refreshed, I could sit here and write about her all day! I won’t, I promise!

I will make do with saying that I loved her with all my heart, and I know she loved me with all her heart. She never said a critical or unkind thing to me or about me. I loved spending time with her, even when I was a teenager. Aunt Mary had a profound impact on my life in many ways. Again, I could write so many of them, but it would take me all day. And in the grand scheme of things, the reasons really don’t matter. All that really matters is that I loved her dearly and I miss her terribly. One of my favorite quotes is from Maya Angelou and always makes me think of Aunt Mary.

“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”

I don’t remember every little thing Aunt Mary did or said over my life, but I will never forget how she made me feel…which was special, loved and cherished. She gave her love and her compliments freely. I often wonder if that is where the sappy side of my personality came from.

Shifting gears in a way…yesterday was our Share walk in honor of babies who died during pregnancy or in the first few months of life. It is also national pregnancy loss and infant loss remembrance day. It is customary to participate in what is called “The Wave of Light” and light a candle at 7 PM in whatever time zone you are in, creating a wave of light around the country. Each year, I do this in remembrance not only of my own babies who didn’t make it, but also in memory of my dear friend’s little girl Hannah and my sister’s little baby boy Daniel. But, in the back of mind of course, is my dear Aunt Mary. Each year on October 15, I imagine this dear, sweet, lovely lady up in heaven in a huge rocking chair cradling and rocking mine and my sister’s babies who didn’t make it to this Earth. I like to take pictures of my candles, and I try to do something different each year. Last year, I took a picture of candles surrounding a Precious Moments figurine that Aunt Mary gave me many years ago called “You Have Touched So Many Hearts.” It is a little girl holding a string of hearts between her hands, and ironically, there are six hearts, which is how many candles I light each year on October 15.

Back to our Share walk yesterday. It is always a rather emotional day for me as I participate in the reading of so very many babies names who died way too soon. Yesterday, we read over 400 names, and I read the last group of them. It is hard to keep my emotions in check as I read the names, especially when I come to the name of a baby who is someone I know personally. And most especially when a family has sadly added another name to the list since the previous year. Preparing the names is a long process…first making sure that every name is accounted for and spelled correctly before being sent to the t-shirt printer, and then again when I have the task of making sure all of the readers know how to say each name correctly. Hearing their baby’s name(s) spoken is the highlight of the walk for many families, and it is so important to not mess it up. It is a lot of work, but a true labor of love, and I always breathe a huge, deep sigh of relief when I step off the stage after the reading of the names is finished. The final part of the ceremony is a song. This year, it was “When I Look to the Sky” by Train. While I have always loved that song, the words have never had the meaning for me that they did yesterday, and, as I listened to the words, I couldn’t help but think of Aunt Mary. A couple of stanzas in particular caused the tears to freely flow down my face and drip onto my shirt.

Cause when I look to the sky something tells me you're here with me
And you make everything alright
And when I feel like I'm lost something tells me you're here with me
And I can always find my way when you are here

It made me think of while Aunt Mary is not physically here with me, she will always be “with” me in my heart. There have been so many times over the years that just thinking of her and her sweet ways and gentle voice was a calming presence in my life. While I wish on many days that I could pick up the phone and call her (and I still remember her phone number!), I am comforted by knowing that much of who I am today is directly related to who she was.

This stanza made the tears flow even more than they already were:

But with you I can spread my wings
to see me over everything that life may send me

Aunt Mary truly helped me spread my wings and saw me through many things that life sent my way. She had a remarkable way of making me look at things in ways I may not have thought of, and she did it in such a way that I felt empowered, not put down for how I was feeling.

Last night, I lit these candles in memory of my babies, my sister’s baby and my friend’s baby. I thought long and hard how to include Aunt Mary this year, and when I walked into the kitchen to fetch my Aim N Flame from a cabinet, this glass bird sitting on the kitchen window ledge caught my eye. I bought it months ago on clearance at Hobby Lobby for $3 because it reminded me of a Cardinal. I had to buy it for a couple of reasons…the obvious one being the St. Louis Cardinals. The second reason was because it reminded me of Aunt Mary. She wasn’t a baseball fan, but she loved cardinals. I remember the year that someone gave her a wreath at Christmas time to hang on the door of her apartment, and she left it up year ‘round because even though it was very Christmas-y, there was a cardinal perched among the fake snow sprinkled holly leaves and pine branches. When I saw the cute little glass bird, I had to buy it, and it has been sitting in my kitchen window since March, and I envisioned placing some holly or pine around it with a candle when I decorate for Christmas. So I added it to my candle display at 7 PM last night.




I also had this candle burning just for Aunt Mary in honor of it being 100 years since this special person came into the world.




I think it is now time to close this. I know my written words are all over the place, but that is because my thoughts are all over the place. I will close with one final thought of Aunt Mary. At her birthday party nearly 10 years ago, I remember thinking how much differently her life could have turned out. She and my uncle lived through really hard times during the depression as a newly married couple. She suffered with not being able to have children when she would have been a terrific mother and wanted to be so desperately. In her lifetime, she watched all of her four siblings have children and grandchildren and great grandchildren and great-great grandchildren. I often think how Aunt Mary could have ended up bitter and alone in her old age instead of surrounded by so many people who cherished her as much as she cherished them. She truly made lovely, refreshing lemonade from a big ol’ bowl of sour lemons. She taught me so many things. The two most important gifts I think of her giving me are the power of unconditional love and the ability to always look for the good things in life.

I will leave this with a picture of my Aunt Mary at her 90th birthday. Sadly, that was the last time I saw her alive. She died a few months later, and I was unable to be with her when she died because we were in the midst of a snowstorm. That is my one regret that I don’t know that I will ever get over…that I didn’t move heaven and earth to be with her when she died. I have prayed and hoped many times over the years that she always knew that I loved her as much as she loved me. But, she taught me something even in death, and that is to never let a day go by without letting those we love know how we feel about them.

My beautiful Aunt Mary:

Something that Made me Smile Yesterday

Yesterday, my co worker Jeanna and I were driving to Subway to pick up lunch, when we spotted this rooster outside a cute litte shop a few blocks from our office. On the way home, I had to stop and take a picture because it made me smile.




If a 5 foot tall pink and red metal rooster standing in a bed of beautiful fall flowers can't make me smile, nothing can...and I need all the "smile moments" I can get these days. I need to get myself back to the whole reason for starting this blog...to dance in the rain because I'm trying to deal with a bit of a crisis and about to have a mental breakdown. Not really, I'm being a drama queen (about the potential breakdown, not the crisis) so no need to call the men in white coats. Not yet anyway. Although my husband might want to call them...I'm very tempted to stop by that shop on my way home from work today and ask the owner if that cute rooster is for sale. Tony would hate it, but I think my backyard would be a nice home for it, don't you? And it would have the added bonus of being payback for his pool-tearing-down episode!

If I buy the rooster, what shall I name her? :-)

A Time for Everything

Many years ago, when I was going through a really rough patch in my life, I bought a book I heard about on Oprah. Yeah, in my pre-work, stay-at-home-mom days, I watched Oprah. Back then, I will shamefully admit, I loved Oprah and rarely missed a show. So shoot me, call me crazy, whatever. I admit it. My name is Rose, and I used to love Oprah.



The book is called "Simple Abundance: A Daybook of Comfort and Joy" by Sarah Ban Breathnach. I remember two things about that particular episode of Oprah...one, when Oprah asked her "Now how do you pronounce your last name?" and she replied, "It's not 'Bon-breath-neck' it's "Bon-brah-nach,' and two...she described the reason for writing the book...which was to encourage people to focus on the blessings in their lives, even in the midst of really horrible things. I bought the book, which consists of daily readings for an entire year. Each month focuses on a different topic, and each day contains a one page or less subject to focus on for that particular day. I especially loved the pages at the end of each month's chapter, which were called "Joyful Simplicities for (Month)." Her main premise of the book, though, is for the reader to find things each day to be grateful for and to jot them down in a journal. While I didn't always keep up with reading each day, for more than a year, I did keep a "gratitude journal" and wrote my thoughts each morning or evening about what I was thankful for that day. I have always been a pretty postive, upbeat person, but forcing myself to focus on the good things in my life, even when things were not so good, changed my outlook. While I wish I could say that over the years I have kept up my written gratitude journal, I have not. However, that "attitude of gratitude" has never left me, even during really hard times. In fact, on the hardest of days, I seem to automatically think to myself, "now what has been GOOD about this day?" It is often a conversation I have with myself on my way home from work each day.



I am not always perfect at it, and there are definately days that I'd like to punch the happy, look-on-the-bright-side of things Miss Susie Sunshine right in the ol' kisser, but then I tell myself that I'm not striving for perfection, that some days will just royally suck, that there will be days that no amount of positive spin doctoring will turn a pile of sour lemons into a sparkling crystal clear pitcher of sweet lemonade.



I know I have digressed. Shocking, huh?



I recently took this book off the bookshelf, dusted it off, put it on my nightstand, and have been making an effort to read it each day. Some days, the message really speaks to me, other days, I don't even finish reading because it seems silly and doesn't relate to my life at all.



Today was not one of those days.



The topic for September 28 is "A Time for Everything." Each day also has a quote underneath the title, and today's quote is, "There is a time for everything. And a season for every activity under Heaven." -Ecclesiastes 3:1.



To everything turn, turn, turn, there is a season, turn, turn, turn...and a time to every purpose...under Heaven. A time to laugh...a time to weep. A time to gain...a time to lose. A time for peace, I swear it's not too late.



Okay, so that is The Byrds talking and not the bible...



But it really made me think. It talks about how it is physically, spiritually and emotionally impossible to be everything we want to be at every moment. What I took from it is that we can't give 100% to work, our family and ourselves, all at the same time...that there are different seasons to our lives that we as women go through, and that just because we are in one season at any given time, and possibly neglecting another season, doesn't mean that other seasons will never come. She writes that just because we don't have certain things right now, that doesn't mean that we never will. She quotes Anna Quindlen, a former Newsweek columnist, who says, "You probably can have it all, just not all at the same time."



This was a very timely thing for me to read today. I am definately in a "work season" right now, and I feel horribly guilty about that. Pretty much every other area of my life is suffering these days, and has been for quite some time. My work obligations are crushing down upon me, and while I would like nothing more than to say "screw you work!" I can't. All I can do is look forward to a few months from now, when work will slow down and I will once again be able to focus on my family. I will decorate for the holidays, bake, and hope that that season will make up for this one.



For now, I am going to try my damndest to revel in the last line of the September 28 topic in my "Simple Abundance" book...



"Blessed is the woman who knows her own limits."



I know my own limits right now today...getting the laundry done and making a decent dinner for my family. If I can achieve those two things today, I'm going to call it a good, no a great, day.

What is it about my daughter turning 16....

that is turning me into a puddle? She's my 3rd kid to turn 16 for crying out loud! But wow, I am feeling so very emotional about it. Is turning 16 a more important milestone for girls than for boys? If so, I wonder why. MTV dedicates a show to girls turning 16, but not boys. (I hate that show with a fiery passion, by the way. I am so grateful that I don't have a bratty girl like the ones depicted on that show).

I sometimes look at this wonderful, beautiful girl of mine and wonder where exactly she came from. Because she can't possibly have come from me. Although I know she did and I remember it quite well. But I'll get to that in a second! Lauren is pretty much everything I was not as a 16 year old. She is funny, outgoing, athletic...I could go on and on. But I think that what I love the most about her is the confidence she has in herself. She knows what her talents are and isn't afraid to talk about it. She's been working on a project for biology this week, and last night she said to me, "Mom, I am usually good at art, but this sucks." While she has confidence in herself and her talents, she isn't cocky about them at all. She seems to have found that balance at the tender age of almost 16. I have never been anything like her, and I know I probably never will be, which is why I often wonder where the girl came from, especially when I am watching her get knocked around, and do her own knocking around, on the basketball court. And while I wonder that, I thank my lucky stars that she is nothing like I was a as a young girl, and I hope that it will make things much easier for her than they were for me.

This morning, I was remembering back on this day 16 years ago. I remember it clearly...the day before I was going to welcome my first daughter into the world. I loved my boys fiercely, and if I would have been having another boy, I would have been just as excited. Before I found out a little girl was on her way, I told those who asked, "Are you hoping for a girl this time?" that I didn't care as long as the baby was healthy. And I really did mean that. With all I had been through, I really didn't care. However, I'd be lying if I didn't say that while I would lovingly have welcomed a third baby boy into our home, there was a part of me that was secretly hoping for a little girl. I was over the moon thrilled when the ultrasound tech told me she was 100% sure the baby was indeed a girl. I immediately knew her name was going to be Lauren. I chose her name after my beloved doctor who had been with me for several years of heartache and problems and difficult pregnancies. When I was pregnant with Justin, I told him that if I ever had a little girl, I was going to name her after him. His name was Lawrence, and I just couldn't bring myself to name a baby that!

So back to the day before my sweet little girl made her grand entrance into the world in quite a dramatic way. I left home early that afternoon to do some last minute errands and go grocery shopping. I was gone most of the day, and when I arrived home, I was greated by Tony at the door. He was so excited, and said he had spent the day cleaning. I looked around with a puzzled look on my face because honestly, the house was kind of a wreck. Turns out he had cleaned out a couple of closets and the laundry room, and I remember thinking, "We are having a baby tomorrow, and you thought it was important to clean out CLOSETS???"

The next morning as we were leaving for the hospital, I opened the front door discovered a card from my friend Kelly...it was a card that popped open with the name Lauren, and she wrote "Happy Birthday! Love Kelly" on the inside.

Lauren's delivery was the fastest of any of my kids. I have the best story about her birth. I was giving birth to her at St. Mary's Hospital in St. Louis, and it is a teaching hospital. When I arrived early that morning, the nurse asked me if I would be okay with meeting the resident who was there and answering a few questions for him. I agreed, and after the initial meeting, he came in a few different times with the nurse when she was checking on me. By the time it was clear that I was ready to push my little girl into the world, my nurse asked me if I would be okay with the resident watching the delivery. He was a new resident and had never seen a baby be born. I said okay, and he came in the room, put on scrubs, his mask, etc, and by the time he was ready to watch, it was too late. Lauren was born so quickly, after only one small push, that he missed it. I will never forget the look on his face.

Back to my girl...this amazing girl of mine will be 16 tomorrow. All too soon, she will be gone and making her own life. Some days, I am anxious to see what the future holds for her because I just know it will be something fantastic. Other days, I want to cradle her little girlhood in my heart and hands and not let her grow up. I know that I can't do that, but God, I do so want to at times.

There is something else that I will never forget about giving birth to my first daughter. A few days after I arrived home from the hospital, I recieved a card in the mail from my Aunt Mary. She wrote a note in it telling me how she couldn't wait to meet my baby girl. She also wrote something that to this day still brings tears to my eyes. Her words are forever etched in my mind: "I hope you get as much love and enjoyment out of your little girl as I have always gotten out of her sweet Momma." If my Aunt Mary were still here, I would honestly be able to tell her that I have.

I think it is time to end this. I want to share some pictures first. This one was taken minutes after her birth, the first time I laid eyes on my beautiful baby girl.



This next picture was taken the next day as we were ready to leave the hospital.




And here is my awesome girl now. I love this picture of her. I love her dimples, and her sweet smile. I love how she still calls me "Mommy." I just love everything about her.

Reflections, 10 years Later

The morning of September 11, 2001 was a typical one in my house…one spent getting 3 kids ready for school…breakfast, making lunches, dealing with arguments and meltdowns about breakfast and lunches and clothes. At around 8 am, the phone rang. I looked at the caller id, and it was my friend Jessica. Feeling a bit irritated that she was calling me in the midst of school-morning chaos, I pressed “TALK,” and before I had the phone to my ear, I heard her saying, “Turn on the TV! The World Trade Center just got hit by a plane!” I didn’t usually turn the tv on until the kids were ready for school, but I quickly went into the family room and switched it on. Of course, I was in shock, and I must have said “Oh My God!” 20 times in the space of a few minutes. I was horrified thinking of those poor people on the plane and in the building that was hit. “What a tragic, horrific accident, and how could something like that happen,” I remember thinking. Then, as I watched in disbelief, still on the phone, the second plane hit the other tower, and I have no words, even all these years later, to describe how I felt at that moment…the moment when I and the rest of the country realized that this was clearly no accident. Jessica and I stayed on the phone for a long time in stunned silence, but I had to hang up to finish getting everyone ready to get out the door for school, even though I was terrified of sending them to school, while my attention was glued to the television. I was in my bedroom when I saw the report on TV that a plane had also crashed into the Pentagon.

The memories of the timeline of that dreadful morning are pretty blurry. I don’t remember if the the first tower came down before or after I took the kids to school. When I got home, though, I called Jessica back. We had planned to go shopping that morning to buy a gift for our friend Judy who was going to be starting chemotherapy for lymphoma the next day. Another friend was having party that night as a way for everyone to get together and wish Judy well. Jessica and I decided to go shopping anyway, as we had already picked out a sterling silver bracelet for her in the jewelry department at Walmart. It was a Tiffany-style bracelet…chunky silver chain with a heart charm, and we had already made a card and written, “All of your friends are holding you in their hearts.” Wow, strange the details I remember now that I am writing.

Most of the crowd in Walmart that scary morning was gathered around the televisions in the electronics department. That is where we heard the news of the second tower collapsing. It was impossible by that time to not be fearful and speculate as to just how many more planes were out there that were going to crash. I hate to fly anyway, and I swore to myself I would never step onto a plane again.

We bought the bracelet and then spent the rest of the day at my house glued to CNN. I had never even watched CNN until that day, but that was the only channel on my TV for days. We even left it on overnight as we slept. I have so many very vivid memories of that surreal day. Even now, 10 years later, the thoughts and memories are scattered.

*I remember how later that afternoon, after Jessica left to go pick her kids up from school, I took a cup of coffee out to my deck. Rachel was napping, and it was a picture perfect, beautiful fall day…one that most of us who live in St. Louis longingly look forward to during the oppressive days of July and August when the humidity turns the sky a hazy bluish gray even on cloudless days. On September 11, 2001, the sky was the color of a cornflower blue crayon with not a cloud in sight. As I looked to the sky from the safety of my deck 1000’s of miles away from the total devastation that others were experiencing, it was hard not to notice the obvious absence of planes and their white trails of exhaust that normally criss-cross the sky. My house is in the direct flight path of the St. Louis airport, only about 10 miles away, so low-flying planes are an everyday occurrence, and on that day, the sky was eerily blue and eerily quiet. I had never noticed the background noise of planes until that day when they were missing.

*I remember driving to pick up the kids from school late in the afternoon, and I passed a couple of moms I knew walking with their kids, pushing strollers, laughing, seemingly having a good time, and I thought, “How in the world can they be out walking and laughing like it’s a normal day?” I wondered if they were clueless and didn’t know what had been happening all day, and I resisted the urge to roll down my window and ask them why they weren’t at home in front of the their televisions.

*I remember the prayer service held at Sts. Joachim and Ann church that night. To this day, tears come to my eyes when I remember the standing-room-only crowd similar to the crowd on Christmas and Easter tearfully singing “Be Not Afraid” and “On Eagles Wings” and “How Great thou Art.” And how we all joined hands as we recited The Lord’s Prayer. It was many months after that before I was able to sing in church without crying.

*I remember how after the prayer service, in somber moods, we all went to the party for our friend who was starting chemo the next day. There was a huge pile of touching gifts for her, plates and platters of food that no one felt like eating, and of course, the main topic of conversation was the events that had unfolded that day. I also remember how one of our parish priests, Fr. Jeff Massen, was there…the only man in a houseful of women. We all loved him…he was a young priest, new to our parish. I also remember how comforting it was having him there. At one point, several of us were gathered around the island in the kitchen with Fr. Massen, drinking wine, and he asked us all to join hands and pray with him. I don’t remember his words, but I do remember they addressed the fears we all had, not only about what was happening in our nation, but also about the journey our friend was about to embark on.

*I remember calling my dear Aunt Mary the next day. At one point, I was crying, saying how horrible I felt for all of those people who had died in such a horrific way, and how horrible I felt for their families, and mostly, how afraid I was. She told me how it had brought back such vivid memories for her of the day the Japanese had attacked Pearl Harbor and how for days afterward, everyone was waiting for the next attack. She told me how when Pearl Harbor was attacked, everyone talked about the feeling that life as they knew it would never be the same again. And that was exactly how I had been feeling…that life as I knew it was over.

*I remember how helpless I felt. I wondered what kind of world my children would grow up in.

*I remember the patriotism of the majority of Americans. I have never before or since seen so many flags flying in front of business, homes. Little flags attached to plastic clip on holders even flew from the windows and rooftops of cars. I bought my own flag to hang from my porch for the first time ever. I also will not ever forget the nasty letter I received in the mail a couple of weeks later from someone who didn’t like the way my flag was flying. Included with the letter was a 2-page list of all of the rules and regulations for flying the American flag with the things I had violated highlighted with a neon yellow marker. It was signed with a handwritten sentence that I would be better off not flying a flag at all than flying one so disrespectfully. My worst violation according to him was that I was flying it at night without a spotlight on it. I didn’t know that was a rule…all I knew was that our president had asked all Americans to fly their flag around the clock, and that is what I had been doing. It was clear from the letter that this person had driven around the neighborhood and made note of everyone who was in violation in his eyes. He signed the letter, “a concerned veteran.” The day I received that letter, I took down my flag and I haven’t flown one since.

*I remember the feeling of pride and awe I had for everyone from the common person to our politicians for the way they handled the crisis. The feeling of camaraderie and fellowship was something I had never seen before, and haven’t seen since. In those early days, it didn’t matter if one was rich or poor, Republican or Democrat…we were all in it together, and after that first horrendous day, I think that solidarity began to make us feel invincible and sent a “don’t mess with us!” message to the rest of the world. That camaraderie made me, and I think many other people, feel a bit of security in an untenable situation.

Ten years later….

I sit here late on this night before the tenth anniversary of what has come to be known as simply 9/11. As I have written these words and thought back upon that oh so frightening day, I can’t help but think about the ways that I have changed. I think back upon that afternoon when I sat out on my deck with a cup of coffee gazing at the sky that was way too blue, and in many ways, life hasn’t been the same. In some ways, it’s been worse, and in some ways it’s been better.

It has been worse because I have fears now that I never knew before that day. We have been at war now for nearly 10 years, and with 2 sons, one who is an adult and one who is close, it is impossible to think of either of them flying away to a desert halfway across the world and being shot at. That is not something I ever gave a thought to before September 11, 2001.

I often glance at the sky and upon seeing a plane, say a silent prayer that all is well and those passengers end up safely on the ground. I never had a thought like that, or even paid attention to planes in the sky, before September 11, 2001.

Whenever I see a flawless, cerulean blue sky, even after all of these years, my first thought is of that beautiful early fall day when the calmness of the splendid blue sky was so out of place…when that blue sky masked a darkness that was felt in hearts and minds across the world. I often think it might have been better if on that tragic day, the sky would have been full of thunderclouds and lightening and downpours of rain.

So I will end this with no ending at all really. Ten years later, I still have a difficult time watching the footage, and I still feel the initial shock and horror I felt when those mammoth towers crumbled, even though I know it is coming. It is like I expect, or maybe just hope for, a different outcome. Yet I will watch anyway. And I will forever remember on days when the sky is such a clear, beautiful blue. September 11th blue.

Settling In

I am settling in for a long holiday weekend at home pretty much by myself while my family is spending the weekend in Virginia Beach. Why? Because I have a big work project (that writing thing that I have written about numerous times) hanging over me…it’s is due on Tuesday, and I still have a ton of work to do on it. So, I am home alone with the dog, and sometimes, Justin.

I’m trying to not be depressed about it. I’m trying to look on the bright side and think of the GOOD things about this weekend besides uninterrupted time to work.

*I can eat whatever I want and not have to worry about cooking for everyone else. I am going to make everything that I like that no one else does. I’m going to make a pot of broccoli cheese soup and I may just eat it every day. I’m also going to buy ice cream that I like rather than the boring stuff, like vanilla and strawberry that everyone else likes. I ate crab dip on Rosemary/Olive Oil Triscuits for dinner.

*My house is clean, and it will stay that way for a whole 5 days. That does not happen often. Well, it happens less than often. It happens never actually.

*I have 5 whole glorious days of not having to drive anyone anywhere. Ever. I don’t have to pick Rachel up from play practice or drive her to and from friend’s houses. I don’t have to take or pick up anyone from work (except myself), and best of all, I don’t have to go out at 1 am to pick Brandon up from work. My gas bill is going to be about nothing this weekend, because after I get home from work on Friday, I don’t have to go anywhere that I don’t want to go.

*I can watch what I want to watch at night on TV. Or, not watch TV at all. I won’t have to hear sounds of Cardinal games as background noise in my house every night. Best of all, I won’t have to hear the sounds of my husband and son screaming at the TV during Cardinal games. The Cardinals pretty much suck right now, so I hear lots of screaming most nights. But I won’t have to this weekend.

I’ll focus on what I don’t have to do this weekend rather than what I do have to do…which is write something that I have grown to hate with a fiery passion. I am also going to focus on the fact that this time next week, I will be done done done. Well, except for working with the editor on any changes that will need to be made, but I can deal with that. I think.

I will also focus on what I don't have to do this weekend instead of what I would love to be doing...walking on the beach, feeling the hot sun on my face...

For now, I’m going to savor some peace and quiet. I gave myself permission to take the night off from writing. It was a long day at work, I’m tired, and I need to settle my mind a bit. So I am doing that with a glass of wine on the porch while listening to the soothing sound of late-summer cicadas.

Things I am thankful for:

*That for the most part, I enjoy my own company since I'm going to have a lot of it in the coming days.

*That my husband loves spending time with his kids and was almost giddy at the thought of taking them on vacation by himself.

*That I have a refrigerator stocked with food that I can only stock it with when no one else is home to say "ewwwwww....." when they open the fridge.

*That I have a couple of really awesome coworkers who can lift me up and make me laugh when I really want to bang my head against the cute brick wall in my office.