My veteran, my hero... Grandpa Ray

I've always known my grandpa was special.  Even as a little girl, my grandpa Ray was one of my favorites.  Before I was old enough to go to preschool, I knew we had a special bond.  That bond has lasted more than 34 years and it’s still going strong.

Most people know Ray Schwickerath as a wonderful father, a committed and loving husband, an outstanding grandfather, a hardworking man and a World War II veteran.  I look at him in all the same ways, except there’s one more role I’d add in there and it would go right at the beginning...

MY HERO

As we honor and celebrate all the men and women who have fought for our country and gambled with the ultimate sacrifice, I celebrate today, with complete honor, awe and respect, for the role my beloved veteran played.  I realize fully that I’m lucky to be here today.  For 69 years ago, on March 25, 1946 my Grandpa Ray was one of the lucky ones who came home from that horrible, but necessary war.  He was one who fought the good fight, gave everything he had, and praise God, he came home.  Many, oh so many, were not as lucky.  And had he not come home, I wouldn't have known him, or my father.  There would be no me.  The history book would have stopped… thank God our story was able to be written.

My grandpa and My dad when he was 5 years old

Some of my earliest memories with my grandfather are from when I was 2 or 3 and I would make him read the same silly book about The Fat Cat over and over and over to me.  I loved that book and I loved the way he read it.  I've spent years looking for another copy of that book. I've thought many a time how be neat it would be to wrap it up and present it to him someday.  I know we’d both get a good laugh out of it.  So far I keep looking.

Grandpa Ray and baby Angie, connected by a special bond from the beginning.

As a little girl I remember crawling all over him and messing up his hair, all while seeing him smile and just play along.  He was the grandpa that’d get down on the floor and play.  The exceptional kind, not afraid to be silly or to play with whatever I wanted to play.   I thankfully, got to spend a lot of time with my grandparents, and while that in itself is a gift, my grandpa made sure to document it.  Long before video cameras or cameras were popular, my grandpa carried around an 8 millimeter camera with a huge bright light, that recorded our history on short 1 minute films.  The kind of homemade movies that didn’t include sound, one’s voice, or even a hint of background music.  They were the kinds of movies that the feelings, the thoughts and words could all be sensed without the utter of one word. 

In the winter of 1943 my grandpa, a mere 18 years old at the time, volunteered to go to war.  Yes; he volunteered.  In a time when men were being drafted into the war by the thousands, my grandfather unselfishly, and willingly signed up.  Grandpa’s older brother Virgil was drafted to go.  Given the fact that Virgil was in a serious relationship with his future wife, Dolly, my grandfather decided he could go instead, giving Virgil the chance to stay home.  Grandpa said he went down to the draft board and said, "My brother was drafted and I want to go for him".  He was in draft group 2C (a group most likely to stay home) and Virgil was in 1A, (a group destine to see war).  In grandpa's words, the draft board didn't care who reported, as long as they had one body, that is what they minded.  So history was written as simply as that. Grandpa, looking back now says,  he was too big for his britches.  He had opened his mouth and put his foot in his. 

 Virgil got to have Grandpa's 2C Farm classification and Grandpa was in group 1A.   Report on December 10th he was told.  Get on the bus in New Hampton, and ride it down to Des Moines, where you will report to volunteer for induction. In those days Grandpa said, when you were drafted, you were in until the war was over, plus 6 months.  There was no telling how long he had committed for, he just knew that's what he had done.  It was December 3rd, 1943.  

Virgil in Rays Uniform.  Virgil was always very proud of his younger brother Ray.  They were the best of friends and I believe Virgil never forgot the sacrifice his brother made for him to be happy. 

As I think back to any event in my life, from a pre-school concert, to a high school track meet.  Not only were my parents there, but two other people who always made the trek to offer complete support. Those two were my Grandpa Ray and my Grandma Virginia.  I never realized how lucky I was until now having children of my own. How wonderful it would be for my children to have the same gift I had.  It didn't matter if they had to drive three hours and then sit on a metal bleacher in the pouring down rain, there was Grandpa and Grandma with their camera and the biggest smiles as I'd come around the track.  Some teams have cheerleaders, I had my grandparents.  

Another activity we enjoyed together was fishing.  I would do the fish catching and grandpa would bait my hook

After volunteering to join the war, Grandpa had decided he wanted to go into the Navy.  One of his cousins, Barney was also drafted.  In a conversation they had together, Grandpa shared he wanted to go into the Navy, while Barney expressed interest in being in the Army.  Turns out, after reporting for duty, Barney learned he was too short for the Army so he was assigned into the Navy, while Grandpa said being color blind disqualified him from the Navy, thus assigning him in the Army. 

Soon after reporting to Fort Dodge in Des Moines, he had a physical where they found he has some infection so they put him in the hospital.   Like many service men at the time, Grandpa had a special lady waiting for him back home.  While he and my future Grandma were having innocent fun dating, having him leave for active duty was a turning point in their relationship.  True love blossomed in those weeks and months and it wasn't long before Grandpa knew that woman of his dreams  waited for him back home in Iowa.  

On Christmas morning he found himself lying in a hospital bed, the only patient in a 40 bed facility.  The Captain came in to his room and said, "What the hell are you doing here?" Before Grandpa could respond, the Captain continued, "What would you say if I let you go home for Christmas?"  Grandpa exclaimed, "I'd scream and holler in happiness!"  Having only gotten as far as the hospital, the Captain continued, "You are still a civilian, you have to be sworn in, before I let you go."  Together, the only two in the facility walked down to the supply building, only to find it locked.  They scrounged around for uniforms and found two uniform sizes for him to be sworn in in... too big and too small.  It would work though, he didn't care he, wanted to go home for three days to see his sweetheart.  He was sworn in on Christmas, it was 1943.  

On the back of this picture my grandmother Virginia had written...
"Ray home on leave from Des Moines, Camp Dodge.  Christmas- 1943"

When I was 5 years old my grandparents took me on vacation to Las Vegas.  It had become one of their favorite vacation destinations and I guess they thought it was a fine place to take their 5 year old, first granddaughter.  During our trip, one afternoon, my grandpa and I were walking from the Circus Circus hotel parking lot to the casino building that housed all the activities and games for families.  On our journey across the parking lot, to our complete surprise a kangaroo came charging at us between cars.  Grandpa, having seen many things in his life, and me having seen very few things, were completely shocked at what was happening in front of us.  Needless to say, it was a matter of a few milliseconds before I had crawled completely up his leg and found safety in his arms.  If I can share a little secret, I think both of our hearts skip a beat or two as we watched a loose marsupial try and make his escape.  

The story of the loose Kangaroo is one we both reminisce and laugh about to this day.  Today though, as I think back on it, I realize that was just one story of many, where Grandpa was my safety net.  When I needed help, support, and backup, there he always was.  He is always there.

Grandpa and his little shadow, Angie

After his three day Christmas holiday Grandpa reported back to Des Moines, where he was put into a group of 24 and told to board a passenger rail car, headed for Wyoming on their way to Camp Roberts in California.  When they arrived in Wyoming they were stopped outside of a town and parked for three or four days.  Grandpa said he remembers they were all getting very hungry as the rail car didn't have food.  Finally, they sent someone out who brought meals back.  Days later they arrived at Camp Roberts.  Seventeen weeks of basic training was about to begin.  

Six weeks into basic training, Grandpa got sick again and was put into the hospital.  When he finally got out his group had moved on so he was assigned to a different group and got to go back and repeat three weeks of basic training he had already completed.    After 20 weeks of basic training he graduated and the next journey began.  

From 14 moves between different camps in California for extended training, he waited while they decided where they needed him most.  Grandpa knew the infantry soldiers were fighting on the front lines and many many men were being killed.  It wasn't long before he realized, his assignment... Ray Schwickerath- Infantry Soldier

Most seniors in high school have their senior portraits taken with their prized possessions, maybe an old car, a close friend or a girlfriend/boyfriend.  I had my senior pictures taken with my grandparents.  At the time, my friends would look at me strange when I told them I had my pictures taken with my grandparents, but I didn't care.  I wanted to have our bond captured forever in pictures as they were/are some of the most important people in my life.  Why wouldn't it make sense to have them sit with me for my senior portrait.  

My high school senior pictures with two very special loved ones

The orders were that he would be shipped to Hawaii for jungle training.  That meant he wouldn't be headed to Germany, but instead the Philippians.  After completing the training he was immediately grouped with a bunch of replacements and put on a ship, actually 7 different trips, headed for the islands of New Guina and New Calidonia.  At that point he was assigned to the 25th Division.  Officially a front line combat fighters, his training was over, for now he was walking right into the thick of action .

He didn't get into combat until they got into Leite, one of the islands.  They first landed in Luzan, while the Navy battleships bombed the shoreline and planes dropped leaflets along the beaches for three days.  The leaflets read "U.S. Army."  It was a warning for their enemy, the U.S. was coming for them.  My grandpa was one of those headed into battle.  Grandpa said while the dropping leaflets and the shore line attacks kept the enemy inland about three miles, it didn't matter too much;  they had been there for some time, their tanks were protected and their armor secured.  They were ready and waiting.  

One of the greatest battles Grandpa fought in was on Belaty Pass.  A mountain with two climates, one was tropical with continuous rain and the other land use to plant crops. There were three units charged with taking over the pass, the enemies were at the top.  One unit went up the one side, a second the other side of the mountain and the third went up staying close to the road.  Grandpa said it was a series of climbs followed by small valleys.  When they would go up a hill, they would dig a hole as soon as they could to avoid being shot.  They were sitting ducks, playing with danger in every uphill step they took.  And yet they kept walking. He said, "We could see them plain as day as we made our way up.  Looking down at us, their snipers would crawl through a tunnel to their weapon and fire right at us.  We stayed down in our hole to stay alive."  Their unit was suffering significant losses and 8 or 9 days before the pass was overtaken, their Lieutenant was killed.  A devastating loss to everyone in their troop. And yet, they knew, they had to keep going.

After regrouping they decided to carry on in their mission.  When they started fighting again, he was man number 11 in line with several more men behind them.  They began taking on fire and soon realized the odds were not in their favor.  Grandpa said at one point he looked behind him to see where the men following him were and he found they had retreated back.  They were alone, only 11 of them.  They dug holes in a circle with their backs to each other to protect one another.  Anyone who came near them, they fired upon.
  
The guy with the radio communicated back that they needed help, but it wasn't long before the enemy took him out and damaged the radio.  They were sitting ducks, without communication or anyone to help them.  Thankfully, soon enough a plane dropped another radio, but mistakenly dropped it too late, tossing it off a the side of the hill past them.  A second radio dropped was performed and that's when they learned help would not be coming until the following day.  He didn't know if he'd live to see the following day.

Simply inscribed, "My sweetheart Ray.  Signed Virginia" 

Good morning Angela Kay, that’s how he’d greet me, each and every morning.  My parents, worked with him and my grandma, in their business and one of the perks was getting to see them every day.  While Grandpa had many roles around the office, one of his most important roles was to drive his white van up to the top of the hill at the end of the driveway, and keep the heat on high for my sister, my brother and I while we waited for the school bus.  Each morning, he’d make sure he’d pick us up from our house, help us load our heavy backpacks into the van and then he’d take us up the drive.  No, there was no standing outside in the cold for us.  We’d get to hear Paul Harvey’s “The rest of the story", in the toasty van, before unloading to get into the bus.  He always did things to make our lives easier, better.  That was the rest of OUR story.

Looking down at his arm and seeing the shrapnel peppered throughout, he knew he was hurt badly.  There however, was no time to stop fighting.  For two more days he continued with his charge and as the red spots set in and the terrible body ache consumed his body, he knew the blood had started to poison.  Seeing one of his fellow soldiers bloodied and suffering from a leg injury, Grandpa knew the time had come to retreat.  Together they carefully and sneakily walked back down the hill with Grandpa helping to carry his war brother.

They arrived at a point where help greeted them.  Grandpa was loaded onto a stretcher and he was carried down the uneven and dangerous terrain.  As they got to a valley a Piper Cub airplane was brought in to airlift him to a hospital.  Still on the stretcher his head was put up in between the pilot and a passenger seat and his feet stuck out the end.  Looking out of the plane he could see land on either side.  Getting to the hospital, there was 2 doctors and three nurses.  He was stabilized and transferred onto a main hospital.  It was the last he'd see of fighting on the front lines.

My grandma and grandpa had the picture perfect marriage.  A young couple falls in love, he leaves for war, he comes home they marry and have 6 beautiful children.  They live happily ever after or for the next 60 years of their lives.  As a little girl I remember wishing one day that I would find a love as true as theirs.  Their love was the kind books are written about.  They complimented each other and always put one another first.  My grandpa viewed my grandmother as his princess and my grandmother viewed my grandpa as his knight in shining armor. Sadly their love story here on earth ended that 16th of July in 2005, when my grandmother went to be with her Lord.  While their days together have stopped, their love continues.   It was a beautiful love story.  One that will last beyond the ages.  

Grandpa was in the hospital for a month recovering from his wounds and the blood poisoning. One day the doctor came in and said, "I don't think I'm going to clear you for combat until they are done fighting.  You've been beat up enough."

Upon his release from the hospital he applied for a transfer to headquarters because of his injury.  They approved it and he was assigned to the switch board.  Word was spreading that the U.S. had started training soldiers to go into Japan.  He thought for sure a million men would die.  The Japanese soldiers were very tough and fighting on their own land with their families; their women, their children at stake, they would surely fight to the death before letting their enemy, the USA, win.  It was a bleak outlook.

And then the night that changed it all.  Sitting at the switchboard, Grandpa said the general called to speak to our general.  He said that a bomb had been dropped on Nagasaki and that three days later a second bomb would be dropped on Hiroshima.  They had heard the bomb had killed thousands.    Grandpa said, "It was one of the hardest secrets I had to keep."  "I was so thankful the bombs had been dropped, even though so many perished."  As scary as that was, it meant a shift in the war was coming and my grandpa knew his life was saved.  He says, "I'm still happy they dropped it, because I wouldn't be here if they wouldn't have done that."  
It was only a few days later the Japanese surrendered and General MacArthur signed the declaration that the war had ended.  His prayers were answered.

When all their fighting was over, their division had been fighting for 165 days straight.  The 25th Infantry Division fought the longest amount of time of any division in WWII.  He was in the 165th regiment of the 25th Infantry.  He said, "Its a miracle that I made it out alive.  Out of the 210 people that went in, very few came home.  Only 38 made it back to kiss their loved ones." My grandfather was one of them.

On March 25, 1946, Grandpa and his future wife sat in the back of his parents car and talked about their future.  Sitting so close he could feel her heart beat racing, she asked him when he wanted to get married.  Without hesitation he answered, "Tomorrow!"  She laughed and said "We can't do that!"; there was some planning that had to be done.  A month to the day later on April 25, 1946 Mr. and Mrs. Ray Schwickerath walked out of the Jerico Catholic Church, arm in arm as husband and wife.  

Mr. and Mrs. Ray Schwickerath

The happily married couple and their parents.

While the years have passed and the wrinkles deeper, our connection is stronger than ever.  Our twice a day phone calls are more important for me than him.  I call just to make sure he knows, I care and send my love.  My grandpa is my hero for many reasons.  For always being there for me in every step of my life and for what he did for our country.  So that we may live, breath, and pursue happiness in our land of the free.  
War is never easy and I know my grandfather saw and had to do things he wished he never had to experience.  Always a man of faith, he knew what he experienced would leave scars on his heart and visions in his mind he could never erase.  He knew what he had to do and that freedom comes at a price.  My grandfather is a member of the greatest generation.  I'm so privileged I get to call him my hero and my grandpa.

I love you Grandpa Ray!  Happy Veterans Day!

Until next time,

Angie

Michael-isms

Of the many great qualities Michael has, perhaps one he's known best for his is quick wit and humor.  There are some days he seems to be on a roll and today was one of them.

Today at Michael's soccer game we just so learned that his team played against Larry Fitzgerald's (the outstanding Arizona Cardinals football player) son.  After the game, Michael, Isabelle and I were driving home, when we were discussing how his team did.  Michael said, "Mom- Did you know Larry Fitzgerald's son was on the other team?"  "No," I responded, "Michael, how do you know it was his son?"  "Well," Michael said, "I know because someone on our team said it so I decided to ask him.   I said, "Hey are you Larry Fitzgerald's son?" and guess what Mom? He said he was!"  Isn't that cool?" Michael, still very excited, continued on about the fact that he got to play soccer with a semi-celebrity.  Michael exclaimed, "And guess what Mom?  Larry is SOOOOO RICH, that his son can play a soccer game, a baseball game AND a basketball game, ALL IN ONE DAY! Now that's rich!"  I couldn't help but laugh, still trying to figure out the correlation between having three different activities in one day and being rich.  I asked, "Michael, what does playing three sports have to do with being rich? Some days, we have three activities in one day."  Michael quipped right back, "Yeah mom, and I know you can barely do it.  Its because we are not rich."  I just laughed and agreed.  He's right,; I can barely do it, actually most times I struggle.  Thankfully now I know the reason why its so hard for me.  I just don't have enough money. 

And then tonight...

 Tonight I was treated and got to go out for dinner. It was so nice, even Dad commented how long it had been since we had a meal in a restaurant and not at home.  It was glorious. I didn't have to cook.  Okay back to my main point now.  As we were leaving the restaurant, we drove past the store Bye Bye Baby and Jarrett commented how he hadn't been in that store for a long time.  He said the last time he was in the store was when Isabelle was a baby and wearing tiny diapers.  At Jarrett's comment, my gut reaction was to start fake whimpering.  Pretending to cry I said, "Oh that makes me so sad, the baby stage of our life is over and I only got to have one baby, since you boys were all ready big when we got you.  You know Mom loves babies!" I said.  Before I could continue in my silly pitty party, Michael jumped in, "Mom, if it'd make you feel better, I can act like a baby and whine all the time."    You know, if funny,  my pretend crying stopped right away.  "Thanks Michael for offering, but its funny, all of a sudden, I'm okay with the baby stage being past us now. Thanks anyway!"

While Michael continues to make us laugh, I sometimes look at him and think, "Wow, he's really growing up fast."  So fast, in fact, today Michael had his first play date with a girl.  Michael was invited to go spend the morning with his friend Bella, yes, the same, cute, little girl he went to dance class with a few weeks ago. I had set up the play date with Bella's mom earlier in the week and told Michael he'd have to be on his best behavior all week if he wanted to go.  It became clear, very early in the week, just how badly Michael wanted to play with Bella.  Michael's compliance with our requests was record breaking.  Lets just say, evidence of parental bribery at its finest.  Finally the date  day Michael had been waiting for arrived.  He couldn't wait to get to get to her house.  They spent the morning playing in her tree house and on her trampoline.  When I picked him up he went on and on  and on about how much fun they had.  He said, "Mom, Bella is so nice. I like playing with her and you would have been proud, I used my manners a lot!"  When I asked him what else they all played he said, "Mom, after we played her in tree house and on the trampoline, we played in her room and played house.  I was the dad, she was the mom and her little brother was our baby."  We played house for a long time and then I read her journal.  I said, "Oh really Michael, did she want you to read her journal?"  He said, "No not really, I think she was embarrassed because she had written in there "Bella likes Alexander."  As Michael shared what Bella had in her journal, it was clear, he was wishing his name was Alexander or that Alexander had been crossed out with a big black marker and written over top was the name Michael.  While he enjoys Bella's friendship, it is clear he has a crush.  As we almost got home and pulled into the drive way he said, "Mom, can I call Bella? I just want to say hi, I miss seeing her already."  Um no Michael, you can tell her hi on Monday at school.  

See what I mean?  My little boy is growing up way too fast.  While it is so cute he has a girl friend, I mean a friend that is a girl, I'm not quite ready for the daily phone calls just to say hi and I miss you.  

Oh Michael, he's always got me on my toes.  Just one of the many reasons we love him so.

Until next time,

Angie

To my 9 year old birthday boy...

Dear Gabriel,

Nine years ago today you came into this world and while we had to wait four years to meet you, you changed our lives forever.  

Dad and I feel so blessed to be your parents and we are so proud of you.  From the first moment we met, when you embraced my legs (you were only as tall as my thigh back then) with the tightest grip, and then held my hand as you led me around your house, you had my heart from the very first moment.  

When I was first given a picture of you and Michael, I remember thinking you and your brother were the most handsome little boys I had ever seen and I couldn't wait to scoop you up in my arms.  Thankfully, I didn't have to wait too long, the very next day, I held you, my first baby, and our bond began.

If I can be honest with you, I wish our bond started before your fourth year.  I wish I was there from the very beginning.  Oh what I would given to have seen your first steps, your first smile, listened to your first words.  I think that's why in our first year together I was so obsessive with the firsts we experienced together, you know the common firsts most families celebrate... the first fishing adventure, the first time going to the grocery store together and the first time we went out to dinner.  

Even though our lives didn't interconnect until a few years later, we are so fortunate to have several pictures from your first few years.  When your foster mom shared these with me, it was obvious which ones were you and which picture were of your brother.  Those beautiful eyes, the ones that so many people compliment you on; you've had those striking eyes since you were a baby.

And there's that one look, the Gabriel look.  The one where you can read the emotions you feel right across your face.  

I love this picture with those sweet baby cheeks... oh how I wish I could have kissed those cheeks and held your head on my shoulder as I rocked you to sleep.

In this picture, I think you are able the age of your little sister now, about 2 and a half and still as cute as ever.  

And here's my classic Gabriel, with your full of life smile and the love in your heart coming through those eyes.  

Yep, here it is again.  That smile will always be one of my favorites. 

All of these pictures are from the time before we were together, and yet in someways, I feel I know exactly what you were thinking in each of these pictures.  I guess that's what can happen between a mom and the bond with her son.

We've now been together as a family, for longer than we were not, I have enjoyed watching you grow, seeing all that you've learned and observing first hand just how great your love is.  You lead with your heart and are open with your emotions.  Even though you are nine, you still come up to me at unexpected times, wrap your arms around me and simply say, "I love you mom" followed by the same embrace you gave me on our first day together.  Those moments, I will always cherish and never take for granted, for they are some of my favorites.

And I love the questions you ask and how you come to me with your serious concerns.  You know what they are honey; "Mom, do I have to marry a girl just because she likes the same football team as me?"  Thankfully Mom can still answer those questions.  Save the really hard ones for dad okay? :-)

Gabriel, we can hardly believe you are 9 years old today.  I know you are excited to grow up and can't wait to play in the NFL, but mom thinks the time is going way too fast and I wish I could hit pause.  

Dad and I are so proud of the boy you have become.  You are smart, kind, considerate and loving. 

 We hope you continue to do make good choices and be the strong leader you are for your brother and sister.  And speaking of that, you are a great big brother.  Michael and Isabelle look up to you and watch all that you do.  I appreciate the way you watch out for Michael and all that you do to help Isabelle.  Keep that up Gabriel, keep being their biggest fan.  They will return that ten fold and always have your back too.

Gabriel, we hope your 9th birthday is all that you hoped it would be.  Now make a wish and promise mom you won't keep growing so fast. 

Happy Birthday Gabriel.

With love always,

Mom and Dad

Celebrating our leader and the great parenting fail.

Remember that classic Robin Williams movie Hook?  You know the one where he was Peter Pan but decided to leave Neverland so he could grow up.  Think back to that scene at the beginning when the too busy to have time for his family Peter shows up for his son’s baseball game only to find out he’s completely missed it and the field is empty.  Remember that.  Now, end scene.

This morning marked a very special day for our middle special child Michael.  To his surprise the school was holding an awards assembly where he was being honored for his outstanding leadership qualities.  It’s a big deal.  Recipients of these awards are picked by the teachers and the students are recognized for their leadership strengths both inside the classroom and around school.  They are so big in fact that not only did Michael’s teacher email us but she also secretly sent home a letter to Jarrett and I to remind us that we should be there.  So happy and excited for him, I marked it down on my calendar, send Dad a reminder note and notified my boss at work that I’d be late for our monthly staff meeting (the meeting I’m assigned to take notes at).  I wanted to make sure we were there no matter what.

This morning I dropped Michael off at school, kissed him goodbye and told him I loved him.  The same routine we do every morning, only today I had to bite my tongue not to say, “See you in an hour.” Off he went onto the playground to have fun with his friends.  I went back home and decided for once, I’d actually eat breakfast, other than the normal Pop Tart I inhale after getting to work.  Dad was also at home, getting ready as he also rearranged his busy work schedule to make sure he was there. As I made myself a plate, I yelled to Dad, the assembly is at 8:30 right?  You know I don’t trust myself anymore, there is so much going on, I can’t keep it all straight.”  Jarrett responded, “Yes I think that sounds right, and we both sat down to eat breakfast together alone, something we haven’t done in at least, well, I can’t remember when the last time was. 

At 8:20 I jumped in the car and told Dad I’d meet him at the school, as we were both leaving immediately after the assembly to head to work.  As I pulled into the parking lot, just a few minutes before the assembly was supposed to start, I was surprised to see so many cars in the lot.  I found a place to park, casually walked toward the school while checking Facebook on my way.  As I entered the school doors, a message popped up on Facebook from one of our neighbors who also had a son getting recognized and she had a video of her son getting his award.  Immediately my stomach got into knots. 

 I walked into the multipurpose room to find the entire room full.  Just then the Principle announced, “Thank you to all of our grandparents and parents who came to today’s assembly.  That concludes today’s program, you may exit out the back doors!”  WHAT? Oh my goodness I thought.  I completely missed his entire program.  What a horrible parent am I.  I quickly saw Michael holding his award and sitting quietly with the rest of his class.  I walked up to his teacher, who thankfully has become a running friend, and said, “Oh my gosh, I think I got the time wrong, I wrote down that it started at 8:30.”  She smiled and replied, “I was looking for you guys when he got his award and they were taking pictures.”  In a state of panic I continued babbling on, “I feel terrible, I’m that parent who completely missed their child’s big moment.”  She, being an expert at handling all crisis situations (she is indeed an elementary school teacher), took my arm and said, “Come on, come with me, we will get Michael and take another picture now.  He’ll be so happy to see you.” Yet another reason why I love his teacher.  She whisked me out the door, and I yelled for Michael.  The minute he turned around to see me, his face lit up.  “Mom- look what I got!”  I smiled and said, “Michael I’m proud of you, can I take your picture? Here’s let’s get Mrs. Propps.”  She was right behind us so they posed and I snapped away.  It was as if all was perfect in Michael's world and after kissing him on the forehead, telling him I loved him again, he was off to the next class.

I turned back to the school multipurpose doors, walked through and there was Jarrett standing in a now almost empty room.  "Where is everyone?" he said.  "It started at 8:00, not 8:30!" walking past him and out the doors to the parking lot.  Together we discussed the huge amount of guilt we had and how bad we felt for blowing it.  I felt terrible.  I thought, oh my goodness how did I mix this up.  Cut back to scene of Robin Williams in Hook.  Yep I was that character, except I had no good excuse.  The truth is I felt bad all day today about mixing up the start time and missing Michael's award all together. 

With the guilt I felt, I pondered what I should have done differently, how I hoped Michael didn't feel so horrible that he didn't see his mom and dad there when they took pictures, and that he would forgive us for our mistake.  And then I realized, that there wasn't anything I could have done about missing the assembly now and that there was still time to recognize, celebrate and honor his accomplishment.  That became my focus.

The minute Michael got off the school bus, we congratulated and saluted Michael for his efforts.  I then surprised him with a cream filled chocolate doughnut.  I asked him to read  what his teacher had shared before he downed his special treat, a treat he was the only one to receive.  Here is Michael sharing the recognition he was given today.

We are oh so proud of you Michael for your positive choices and the efforts you've made to be a strong leader at school.  We are so sorry for missing your awards ceremony and while I'd like to say, I promise it won't happen again, the truth is, I'm bound to make many more mistakes as your mom.   The one thing I can say, that will be the truth, is that while I make mistakes, I am oh so proud to be your mom and that I love you always.

Until next time,

Angie

Halloween all around...

Like many past years, we seem to celebrate the holiday of Halloween for several weeks.  This year was no different.

There was the school fall festival, the Halloween party our adoption agency hosts and finally good old trick or treating.  The kids had fun at all of them.

 This month we made Halloween Cupcakes... they were frightfully delicious!

At the Halloween party hosted by our agency the kids got their face painted.  Can you guess what each kid wanted to have on their face? 

 Of course, she had to have Minnie Mouse on her cheek.  These days, EVERYTHING is about Minnie!

 Michael had to have swords on his cheeks... just one weapon of choice for his Ninja Turtle.

 And Gabriel choose a black widow spider to adorn his face.  He seemed pretty pleased.  

 While at the party, we just happened to run into the boys' case worker (not from our agency) who helped pick us to be Gabriel and Michael's forever family.  The boys didn't seem to remember Julie, but the moment I saw her, memories from our meetings together came right back.  It was so fun to see her as it has been almost 5 years. In the time since she helped us become a family she has adopted her own little boy.  It was nice to see her and catch up, while brief that it was.

 Also at the celebration there were several games for the kids to play.  Here they are pumpkin bowling.

 Another activity we participated in, in honor of the Halloween holiday was the carving of our pumpkins.  The boys believe they are fully grown up now, and can do everything by themselves.  Just one example of this is that they both insisted on carving their own pumpkin.  We hesitantly and reluctantly gave in.  It wasn't long before our fears became a reality as Michael sliced his finger open.  After fixing up his wound, he was back at it, but much more willing to let Dad and I help. Sometimes in parenting I've learned, you have to let them make their own mistakes... even if it results in your fears coming true.  (Thankfully, it wasn't that bad of a cut, just enough to scare him into letting us help).

 Here's an after shot of their creations.

Last Friday on Halloween, Isabelle's school had a Halloween costume parade and party.  While Isabelle doesn't normally go to school on Friday, he teachers invited her to still participate.  I thought that was a great idea, because then I got to go watch too.

One of Isabelle's little friends at school is Maya who just happened to also dress up like Minnie Mouse.  Below is a picture of the two of them moments after seeing each others pretty costumes.  It was so cute as they continued to hold hands, smile at one another, laugh and say, "Maya Minnie Mouse, I'm Minnie Mouse too!"

 Also on Friday afternoon, I got the honor of getting to do my cousin Alicia's make up.  She had to spend her Halloween at work but to make it fun, they let their employees dress up.  I'll be honest, when she asked me to do her make up, I was a bit nervous, I consider my make up skills to be far inferior to most 13 year old girls.  Seriously.  So when she asked me, I quick studied up on YouTube how to apply make up and then together we did our best to recreate the look she was going for.  If I can toot my own horn for a second, for my first attempt at Halloween make up, I don't think it turned out all that bad. I guess her co-workers and customers agreed too, as she ended up winning the costume contest at her work.  Pretty cool, I say!

While Gabriel, Michael and Isabelle could hardly wait to put on their costume, I couldn't let Jack feel left out.  Why of course I had to dig out his own turtle costume to wear.  Jack wasn't so impressed and after several looks of, "Can't I just go as a dog?", I decided to let Jack go as himself...a former spoiled dog now second fiddle (maybe even third or fourth) to three kids.  Jack don't be so sad, you'll always be our baby.

 Finally, (as the kids said), it ws time to get ready for actual trick or treating.  I decided to give a try to curling Isabelle's bone straight hair.  I worried she wouldn't sit still long enough and if she jerked with any sudden moments, I risked burning her; so I was VERY careful.  I let her (and Michael as you can see) pretend to put on make up.  Michael took my eye liner and started drawing all over his face.  First he drew a mustache and then he drew the shading as if he was going to play football.  While he created a masterpiece on his face, I gave Isabelle a powder brush and let her go to town pretending.  It was great how still she sat.  She'd look in the mirror, pretend to put on powder and then say, "I pretty mom."  Lord help me, I think the princess stage is here.

 I was really happy with how pretty her curls turned out and when I asked her to turn around look at me, my first thought was, "Oh my goodness girl, you look like you could be in a child pageant."  Thankfully I would never cut it as a pageant mom so no such luck there.

The boys were pretty satisfied with their looks as well.  Imagine Michael making a silly face.  No, that's not my kid.  He's never silly!  Oh and Gabriel decided to dress as a football player underneath his ninja turtle costume.  

 Isabelle's final look.  I can't help but ask, "Where did my baby girl go and when did this beautiful little girl arrive?"  Doesn't she look so big?  

After all that preparation, the boys put their masks on (which completely his their make up masterpieces), they picked up their buckets and soon enough we were off.

 Trick or Treat... here we come!

As usual, we followed our normal neighborhood route and tried our best to keep up with the boys who always seem to be a full block ahead.  Isabelle LOVED trick or treating, especially with her friend Isaac, who lives next door.  They are the same age and went hand in hand from door to door.  When they'd get a piece of candy, they'd look at each other, laugh uncontrollably and then say, "Let's go again Isaac."  It was so precious.  

After walking well over a mile and filling their buckets to the brim we decided to turn back to home.  As we were just about to head inside and call it a night, we got a surprise.  The lovely firefighters from just down the street, brought out their big truck and brought trick or treating to our front door.  They turned on the sirens and flashed their big lights.  They were so kind, they let the kids climb in the truck and handed out candy.  Just another reason why I'm so impressed with those heroes that save lives everyday.  

How often can you say firefighters came to you on Halloween to bring you candy? 

 Well, I guess our kids can say they have.  

 Within minutes every kid from the street was down in front of our house posing with the firefighters.  Definitely a Halloween memory that won't be forgotten.

 Halloween 2014 was definitely a great one!

Until next time,
Angie