A world standing still...

As a child, running through the Iowa grass with the wind blowing my hair all around, I often remember thinking how I couldn’t wait to grow up.  I couldn’t wait to be an adult; to have a job, to have a family to have, it all.

And now as an adult, I look back on my childhood with so much happiness, innocence and joy that I find myself wondering why I had ever wished it away.

In a strange, glass-half-empty approach to life, I look up the local obituaries from my home town.  I guess it is something as a young child, I observed all the adults doing.  I remember listening to my grandparents, my parents and friends gathering around a table and discussing the latest town news… “Did you hear Gladis Smith passed yesterday?  “No but on the Oelwein KOEL AM radio obituary announcements this morning, I heard so and so died.”  And so now as an adult I guess it’s just one of things I absorbed through osmosis, or at least that’s who I’m going to blame.

And that leads me to Marianne Mashek.

Who might that be you ask.  She’s one, one of many people whose faces I remember and whose image represents to me a life, a life in a world that should still be standing still.  Do you know what I mean? Am I making any sense?  I fear no.   Have you ever visited a place that you had gone to many years before, and upon returning you were surprised to see that it had changed, it seemed different, maybe smaller,  maybe older and just not the same way you remember?  That is who Marianne Mashek is to me. 

Growing up with parents who ran a ballroom, there were many a weekends spent at the “hall” helping clear off tables, wash dishes and serve cake.  Being there to help, also meant that we were able to celebrate many a celebrations with friends and community members from all areas of Northeast Iowa.  With the ballroom a part of my entire childhood, there were many parties for the community to have, from graduations, to weddings, to anniversaries and even the annual Memorial Day veterans tribute which brought out the entire town.  With all those celebrations in a close knit community, it was no coincidence strangers became familiar faces and in many cases friends.  Even to a little girl, who grew a bit taller with each passing year and whose responsibilities adapted from just setting up chairs, to helping dry dishes, to eventually serving cake. 

You know most people in their lives strive to leave a mark, to impact those around us positively and to make the world better for at least one person.  There’s that old saying that you never know how many lives you’ve impacted in your life and as I think about it, it’s true.  I haven’t seen Marianne Mashek in probably close to 15 years and yet to me, she is still that friendly, white-haired, 60ish lady, that Lawler staple, that would turn her head to the side, bend over slightly (to be closer to my level) and she’s say, “Well, hi Angie…. How are you?”  Did she have an impact in my life?  Yes.  Did she ever realize it?  I am confident, no.  And although it seems she was just a friendly face with a kind persona, she did impact me.  She is a part of the memory of my youth, which I cherish and look back fondly on.

That’s it.  In my mind, life as I remember it should be stopped, where no one is aging, where the celebrations continue and the life remembered still continues day after day.  Think Groundhog’s day movie, on loop.  And it in those moments, when I pull up the obituaries and I see the news of a face I recognize but one that has aged some, and learned they have left this world, that I’m reminded.

 Life does not stop.  The memories of my youth are not on repeat.  And in what seems a glimmer of a second, time is slipping away.

So now that I’m wholly depressed, I remind myself to think of the today.  I have been blessed with three little people who are in the middle of that magical stage of life called childhood.  And although I will never get that time back in my life, I do get to be a part of their childhood, of their magical memory making years and it makes me challenged to help them make the most of it.   Am I helping to create the ever so perfect memories of childhood for my three little people?  Am I giving them the experiences I so cherish now?  What will be there “go-to” moment that they think about in 30 so years from now? 

Although reading the obituaries may seem like a pessimist action in an already negative-news society, in a strange way it is good for me.  Not only does it allow me to reflect on what a wonderful childhood I had and the many wonderful acquaintances I shared it with; it also reminds me of just how delicate life is.  How to be thankful for the family members still in my life, to be considerate of those family memories suffering from their loved-one’s loss.  And mostly, it reminds me to be thankful for what I have today.  Although I miss being a little girl, running through the long-soft-blades of grass in rural Iowa, I’m thankful to have had that time and to be where I am today.  For if I wasn’t where I am now, I wouldn’t get to experience the joy, the happiness and the innocence in the eyes of my three little ones today.

Until next time,

angie

A horse walks into a bar...

And the bartender says, "Why the long face?

So now that I have your attention, this post has nothing to do with a horse, a bar or a bartender.　 It’s really just my attempt to win you back with humor.　

My blogging attempts these past few weeks have been weak, actually non-existent would be more accurate and although each night I tell myself to go update the blog, the reality is, I just can’t seem to peel myself off the couch.　 And when I finally do roll from there, the calling of my bed is much more enticing.

To be truthfully honest and open, this past month has been a bit chaotic for us.　 We’ve been struck with the spring flu (What’s the spring flu you ask? My coined term for getting the flu out of normal flu season), not once but twice!!!!　 And in between, there was a trip to the ER (for me this time), where I learned the doctors had found a mass and that surgery was unavoidable.　 With my surgery 2 weeks ago now, we are trying to adjust back to normal and praying for a day when we all feel well.

In some ways, it is just comical and all one can do is laugh. Two days before my surgery Isabelle got the flu. The day after I had surgery and when I felt like I had been hit by a MAC truck, Jarrett came down with the flu.　 Then, almost like clockwork the very next day, my phone rang and while I lay on the couch counting down the minutes til my next percocet, I listened as the school nurse told me to come pick up Michael, he was throwing up and had a fever.　 The flu had struck its next victim.　 And through the house it went.　 Again, one can only laugh.　 (Oh and thank God for parents:　 my mom and Jarrett’s parents were life-savers for us).　　 Finally, just this  pastweekend we thought we were turning a corner until Isabelle woke up Sunday with a 104.2 degree fever.　 I really don’t like spending my Sunday evenings in Urgent Care.　 Seriously, getting us all healthy at once shouldn’t be this difficult.

Sometimes it seems things all hit and once.　 Even when one is on their "A" game, it can be hard to get everything done one needs to.   However, I’ve learned not to take feeling well for granted because trying to do everything I need to do, while feeling crappy; well that’s just so much worse.　 And yet, while I complain and grumble about feeling yucky, I still have to be thankful that this is only temporary.　 When I finally got into bed last night, well past my normal bedtime, I turned on the TV to unwind for a minute or two. 　 I saw a commercial for a fundraiser Phoenix Children’s Hospital is doing for terminally ill children.　 And like getting hit in the head with a ton of bricks, I told myself to keep things in perspective.　 For those children, some may never know what it is like to feel better again.

And so while it may take us another week or two, or even a month to get everyone healthy again, I am hopeful that that day is nearer than it was yesterday. So be thankful for the day, I will, because there is always something to smile about, to laugh about and to be thankful for. Even if its as tiny as a corny joke about a horse in a bar.

Until next time,

Angie

Wordless Wednesday... 3 years ago today

Three years ago today, the boys came to live with us (and never left).

 I remember feeling nervous and speechless as we met them and brought them to see our house, their forever home for the first time. 

And today I reflect back and wonder, how can it already be three years?  Some days it feels like that day should be yesterday and other days it feels like we’ve been a family forever.

Until next time,

Angie

Wordless Wednesday: 47 month pregnancy

The other day Jarrett told me about a conversation he and Gabriel had had.

I’m not even sure what the topic of conversation was ,but it had something to do about an event in the early 2000’s.

I guess Gabriel, in deep discussion said, “Dad, I was around in 2002 but I waited to come out (as in be born) until 2005.”

Unsure how to respond, I guess Jarrett just said.  “Oh”

Guess that is one LONG pregnancy for his birth mom.  Maybe I should be thankful I didn’t carry him.

Until next time,

angie

Winnie the Pooh (and Tigger too)!

Isabelle loves many things but there is another category above love where really special things are.  That is where Winnie the Pooh, Tigger and the rest of her Hundred Acre Woods friends are placed. 

 In Isabelle’s room on a bench across from her bed, her “friends” retire there every evening so that at first morning’s light, she can greet them with wide smiles, waves and shouts of “Ttttta” and “Oooh”  Those are the beloved names of Tigger and Pooh.  Tigger and Pooh, Piglet and Roo have provided our little girl with lots of comfort and love and if you’d look at them it’s easy to see they’ve been the recipient of many a slobbery kisses and drool smeared hugs.  I don’t know exactly what it is about them but she LOVES them.

 After a morning greeting of cheery shouts and across the room waves, Isabelle walks over and reaches up without stretched arms, all while repeating their names over and over, begging to have them join her arms.  As her request is fulfilled, immediately one of them is shoved in her mouth while the other under her arm and off she goes to take them on her next adventure in our home.  Tigger, Pooh and Isabelle’s adventures have taken them to many a places, to Jack’s water and food dish, to the cooking pan cupboard, to the cabinet by the TV, to the bathroom tub and even to the garage.  Where ever Isabelle trots, Pooh and Tigger are not far behind.

 Several months ago my sister, Megan and Adam gave us a copy of the recently released “Winnie the Pooh” movie.  I have been waiting until Isabelle grew old enough to have an attention span long enough to watch it.  Recently I showed her the movie which then became another “friend’ to haul around the house and just last week, I decided it was time to pop the movie in and see what she would do.

I pulled in the kid’s chairs and set them up in front of the TV.  Next I placed Pooh and Tigger into the chair next to Isabelle and hit play on the DVD.  As the song started and the voices spoke, Pooh appeared on the screen and what followed next made happy tears flow down my cheek while my belly rolled with laughter that a silly old bear could bring so much happiness.

Watch for yourselves….

 

 

And while screams and shouts, pounding of the arms and waves of joy were present at the beginning, what continued throughout the movie was just the same.  It was truly amazing to see her turn to the TV, see her friend and scream, then turn to the chair next to her, grab her friend, smother them in kisses and turn back to the TV to see yet another friend.   And when Tigger came on and sang his bouncy bouncy bouncy song, Isabelle stood up and started bobbing up and town as her friend performed his song.

So precious.  I can’t think of another way to describe it.  Pure happiness, simple joys and love that has no boundaries.  That is how our little Belle looks at her friends.  As seeing just how happy she is to see her buddies, reminds me, to stop and look for the same simple pleasures in life.  For they really are all around us. 

Until next time,

Angie

 

 

Wordless Wednesday #3.... Big Mountains

Recently Gabriel was sent a letter from a pen-pal in first grade back in the Iowa town where Jarrett and I grew up.  I may or may not have a cousin who is the first grade teacher there and one of the boys in her class needed to send a letter to someone in Arizona. 

When Gabriel got the letter he was very excited and right away wanted to sit down and draw pictures about all the things his pen pal would see if they came to our great state. 

I watched quietly over his shoulder as he drew pictures of geckos, and snakes, cactus and swimming pools.  However when Gabriel drew this, I was not sure exactly what he was trying to draw....

When I asked him what the picture was of he said, "Duh Mom, its a picture of big mountains.  What did you think it was?"

Stumbling over my words, I finally was able to spit out...."That's what I thought Gabriel, just making sure."  as my internal voice told me to get my head out of the gutter.

Until next time,
angie

Best Buddies...

I’ve talked before about how I wondered how Michael would react to becoming a big brother. He was for all our “baby” for a whole 21 months before being booted to a new role of middle child. Jarrett and I were very careful with both boys about the transition when we welcomed Isabelle into our lives. And even though from the very beginning the boys wanted, asked, and even pleaded for a baby sister, we were mindful that to them that they felt just as important and loved as they were from day one. In talking with Michael about becoming a big brother, we stressed to him how he would now get a turn to be a leader, to be the role model, to be the helper that Gabriel had always been to him. Michael was now getting to be in that role with his little sister.

Watching Michael fall in love with his baby sister has made my swelling heart hurt inside my chest as it overflows with so much love. Michael has not only taken on his “role” with a lot of pride and ownership, but it is the other things he does to care for, to watch over, to protect that make me know he will always be there for his sister. Together Michael and Isabelle are best buddies. In those moments when Mom needs to prepare dinner, change the load of watch, etc, Michael is the first one to volunteer, “I can play with Isabelle Mom” even though I’m only a room a way. It is when Michael stands behind, on the side, even in front of Isabelle as she learns how to take her first steps. He doesn’t mind being the human pillow to catch her wobbly stumbles. It’s the moments when he tries to teach her how to give kisses and instead ends up with a huge bite mark on his nose. He didn’t even complain even though he said, “Mom the kids at school will probably laugh at my nose since it looks funny from Isabelle’s bite.” And it’s the weekend morning moments when the house is all quiet as Isabelle sleeps, that he walks up to my side and whispers, “Mom- when is Isabelle going to wake up from nap? I want to play with her.” And that is how I know they are brother and sister. Not connected genetically by the cells in their body but connected by so much more. Connected by heart-strings of love, of pure, wholesome love.

And it isn’t just Michael that is connected at the hip with his sister, this love street goes two ways. It is those moments as Isabelle catches a glimpse of her brother at the after school program and takes off racing as fast as she can to the other side of the room to greet him with outstretched arms. It is the innocent and sweet smiles of pure joy when playing blocks together and getting one into the square hole perfectly. It is the big girl attitude Isabelle has as she get to ride in the Jeep-Car with her big brother when he drives along at a speed slow enough and safe enough for her.

 

 

  And it’s the moments like yesterday afternoon when Isabelle catches a flower blowing in the wind and walks to her brother to show him what she’s found. And no matter what game, ball or big boy activity Michael may have been playing, it is stopped and time stands still as together they investigate the flowers in the crack along the road.

It is love. A special bond between two people that were brought into each other’s lives in a plan so perfectly orchestrated, I can only gives thanks to the man running the show above.

 

Until next time,

Angie