Category Archives: Family File

Thoughts on family life

The Trailblazer

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This child is the trailblazer.  The pioneer.  The leader of the pack.

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This boy is the first of the gaggle of grands that have been added to our family in the past two years.

(Gaggle, noun: an often noisy and disorderly group; an assortment of related things)

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He is not yet aware of his prestigious position.

He doesn’t know that someday the siblings and cousins will want to be in his secret club, sit by him at the kids’ table, and copy the way he sets up his trains.  He will tell them the rules to the games he makes up, show them a better way to build towers, and tattle on whoever is misbehaving.

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He will be the teacher when they play school, the father when they play house and “not it” when they play tag.

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It’s not easy, being first.

But there are perks, starting with lots of pictures.

May Day

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There’s been nothing particularly wrong with this day.

It’s just that the clouds and the cold and the rain have made my mood a bit overcast.

I sent out a distress signal:

Mayday!  Mayday!

Send sunshine!  Send some color into this gray world!

Coming home tonight, I see it on my porch.  My rescuer has come.

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A pop of pink and two tulips on my weatherbeaten chair.

My weatherbeaten spirit is lifted.

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Thank you to whoever heard my distress call!

May Day!  May Day!

Fashionista

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I’ve been looking for the perfect outfit for spring and I think I finally found it.

I didn’t discover it on Pinterest.

I didn’t see it at the outlet mall.

It wasn’t displayed on a mannequin.

Oh no.

My new favorite outfit was modeled by the newest fashionista in town….

….my granddaughter, 6 month old Evie Sally Ann.

Let’s start with the boots.

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As you can see, her footwear is soft and furry for ultra-comfort.  Swoon.

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Evie is sporting a medium grey legging with sparkly pink hearts.  Adorbs.

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She’s chosen a pink (of course) ribbed long sleeve top with sparkly (of course) ballerinas.  Ca-uuute.

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And this jacket.  To die for.

Detailed stitching, petite pockets and rolled up sleeves.  So hip.

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Don’t you agree that Evie looks completely put together and ready for a fun day at Nonnie’s?

This is my new favorite outfit.

I just need it 100x bigger.

After all, I am about 100x older (653 months, to be exact).

Gosh, I wish I could look that cute with drool running down my chin.

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I also wish I could sit up with my legs straight out and touch my toes.

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Oh Evie-girl, to be you…..

 

Jokers

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Being cheerful keeps you healthy. It is slow death to be gloomy all the time.  Proverbs 17:22

PB is a champion storyteller.  He has a whole arsenal of jokes and strange-but-true stories in his memory bank. I’ve always admired his ability to spin a captivating yarn.  The thing is, I’ve heard them all.  After 35 years of marriage I can tell when he’s getting ready to share a joke….and which joke he’s going to tell.  In my head I can relate every story right along with him, word for word.

I, on the other hand, am not a good jokester.  In an effort to be efficient and not waste people’s time, I leave out the embellishments, forego the details, and rush to the punchline.  My timing is off.  I don’t have that mischievous twinkle in my eye that endears listeners.  My anecdotes seem to lack PB’s pizzazz.

The winds of change are blowing as our children and grandchildren settle into their own homes.  PB and I are finding ourselves at a table for two more often.  Our conversation tends to center on work and church — serious stuff.  Sensing that we need to laugh together more, I challenged my man to 30 days of jokes.  New jokes.  Just to keep things fresh around here.  Besides, I found a website with enough one-liners to get me through the month.  I was ready.

It started slow.  The first morning, over our oatmeal, I said, “What did the zero say to the eight?”  PB put down the newspaper, confused.  I could see he was struggling with how to respond so I whispered, “I’m telling a joke.”  Still perplexed by his wife’s unusual question, I prompted him.  “I don’t know.  What did the zero say to the eight?”  He started to catch on.  PB: “I don’t know.  What did the zero say to the eight?”  Me: “Nice belt.”  I figured if I set the bar pretty low, things could only get better.  We shared a laugh.  He tried to pull out an old one on me, but I was firm.  30 days of new jokes.

The second week went better.  PB must have found a website, too, because he started greeting me with funny questions every morning.

“How much did the pirate pay for corn?”  

“I don’t know, how much did the pirate pay for corn?”  

“A buccaneer.”

“What did the three-legged dog say when he walked into the bar?”

“I don’t know.  What?”

“I’m looking for the man who shot my paw.”

I’ll spare you the rest…

 Sharing a laugh every morning has been good for us.

PB is learning some new jokes and I’m working on getting that twinkle in my eye.

A merry heart is good medicine.

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Anniversary

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My mom was so pretty.

My dad was so handsome.

On February 23, 1946 at the farm on Highway 38,

she came down the staircase in her silk and organza,

he stood tall in his Navy dress blues.

She took his arm before the fireplace.

Elmer and Ada, Frank and Jeannette, and 35 others

heard them promise to love and to cherish.

Before the bride knew there would be four kids

and a house in the cottonwood trees….

before the groom knew there would be seed corn

and cattle and cancer….

he wrote her letters from the USS Fanshaw Bay

filled with hopes and dreams of life together on the farm,

planting seeds and harvesting a good crop.

And so, for 27 years, they did.

Elinor (1922-1973) and Roger (1923-2011)

Too Cold to Poop

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brrr-17 degrees, -29 wind chill.  It’s too cold to poop.  Our dog, Bo, can’t stand it.  She can’t keep all four paws on the frozen ground at once.  Can’t stop dancing long enough to squat.  Can’t think about anything but getting out of the frigid air and back into the house.  Tug, tug, tug on the leash.  No poop.  Too cold.

I love how extreme weather conditions shut down activity.  We all think we’re in charge, with our to-do lists and responsibilities.  But really, we have no control over this world.  It’s good to be reminded of that from time to time.  I prefer extreme days — they make us slow down.  Those other days when it’s cold but not too cold, snowy but not too snowy, icy but not too icy — those days you have to carry on despite the elements.  But a blizzard or an ice storm or an arctic blast, they make you put up your hands and surrender.  “Ok! I’ll leave my pjs on all day!  Uncle!  I’ll sit by the fire and read all afternoon!  I give!”

Sometimes it’s nice to be told what to do.  Usually I like to be the boss, plan my day, decide what’s next.  But sometimes I like to be told, “No”.  And just give in.

Coming and Going

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“The Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.”  Psalm 121:8   

In this earthly life, we celebrate the comings and mourn the goings.  Birth and death are a constant reality for us humans.  We know babies are born every day and people die every day, but when that reality crashes into our ordinary lives, both the joy of new birth and the sadness of loss is magnified.

My sister-in-law, Barbie, passed from this life to the next on Friday, Nov. 29.

I remember her coming into my life when I was about 12.  My brother Dan brought her home to meet the family in the summer and they were married in December.  In between the introduction and the wedding, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer.  She was so sick by Christmas, that she wasn’t able to attend the wedding.  The newlyweds offered to move in and help take care of mom and keep the household running.  As a young bride, Barbie stepped into a horribly difficult family crisis.  My world was shaking, our family was reeling, and in the midst of turmoil, Barbie brought light and peace to my dark and scary world.   Barbie loved helping people.

I remember her coming to Eau Claire the day our youngest child was born.  An early morning call was made and she arrived at the hospital to be with our older kids as they waited for their sibling to arrive.  As Jake was making his entrance into the world, Barbie brought Katie and Sam into the delivery room to witness the miracle.  Barbie loved miracles.

I remember her coming to every bridal shower, every baby shower, every confirmation, every graduation.  Family gatherings were a priority no matter when or where they took place.  This past August, we had our first family reunion.  We played games, we had a talent show, we ate and visited and held babies.  Barbie was in charge of desserts.   She brought pies and cupcakes and bars and cookies and cheesecakes.  Barbie loved to celebrate.

I’ll remember her going as a lesson in how to do it well.

She helped us cope,

she prayed for a miracle,

and she celebrated every day.

Love You Barbie.

 

Say Thank You

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Having an almost-two-year-old boy in the house has turned every day into an adventure.  Hudson is learning new things at an incredible rate.  He’s picking up words like crazy, finding out what happens when he throws his food on the floor, and discovering how to postpone nap time.  He’s a smart little fella.  But some things don’t come naturally — they have to be taught.

Hud Bud’s parents are patiently instructing their boy to mind his manners.  When he holds out his cup and says, “More”, his mommy responds with, “More please”.  He repeats, “More peese” and then he gets his sippy cup filled.  She tells Hudson, “Say thank you” and he says, “Deet doo”.

It’s not natural to be grateful.  We have to be taught to say “thank you”.  I’m still learning.

This morning I walked outside and took in a big breath of cold air.  I heard in my heart, “Say thank you”.   So I said, “Thank you, Lord, for air.  Fresh, cold air to breath.  Every minute of every day, my whole life long.”

Then I stepped into last night’s dusting of snow and heard it again, “Say thank you”.  So I said, “Thanks, Lord, for seasons and sunshine and snowflakes and this beautiful earth.”

As I walked the dog around the block, I picked up the pace in the chilly wind but heard, “Say thank you”.  So I said, “Thanks so much for legs that walk and eyes that see and heart that beats.”

Nearing the back door, I looked in the window and saw PB making coffee and Hudson eating toast.  “Say thank you.”  “Oh, yes, Lord, for people to love and live with and laugh with — many, many thanks.”

Hudson and I are learning to be grateful.

“Thank you for Your kindness,

Thank You for Your mercy,

Thank You for the cross,

Thank You for the price You paid. 

Thank You for Your promise,

Thank You for Your favor,

Thank You for Your love,

And everything You’ve done for me.”*

In other words, Lord,

deet doo.

*”Thank You” by Hillsong

Breathing Again

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breatheNot that I’m making any excuses for my rude behavior, but sometimes something has to give.  Unfortunately, small drop got dropped in the midst of an unusual season of busyness.  Some days are so filled with living that words can’t squeeze their way in to record the journey.

Today, because it’s my birthday, I’m giving myself a moment to breathe and see what leaks out with the exhale.  First, a look back.  This is how the autumn has gone:

PB took a tumble and tore his rotator cuff.

Our younger daughter and her family came to spend two weeks with us.  Our older daughter and her family came to spend two weeks with us.  We had 14 people in the house for almost two weeks.

We hosted the first ever family reunion on my side, with over 40 of us gathering.

Our younger daughter and her family moved overseas.  I sobbed at O’Hare.  I sobbed all the way home.  I sobbed when I walked in the house and saw the spit up cloths.

We had two big weddings – PB tied the knot, I got to sit and watch.  I always cry at weddings.  Happy tears.

My honey had shoulder surgery.  He felt like crying.

My sister-in-law had brain surgery.  Tough day with tough news.  I cried.

Our fifth grandchild was born (#4 in 2013).  I wept with joy as I held all 5 lb. 13 oz.

Our church sang “Have We Told You Lately That We Love You?” to us.  I did the ugly cry in front of the whole congregation.

I flew to Salt Lake City.

I flew back the next day with our older daughter and two grandsons.

Our son-in-law and his dad drove a moving truck for 24 straight hours.

Our older daughter and her husband and their two boys moved into our basement.  After being out west for 10 years, I blink back tears when I think that I get to see my girl’s face every morning in my kitchen.

Goodness, there’s been a lot of cryin’ going on.  Some sad, some happy, some from sheer exhaustion.  All from living life.  You know how it is.  You do it, too.  I wouldn’t trade away one of those tears, though.  Emotions mean I’m alive and I’m loved and I’m loving.

There.  I did it.  I looked back and sighed a big sigh.

Now I’m going to start looking forward.

Thanksgiving, Christmas, Skyping with the twinsies, chasing the toddler, getting to know the new babies, singing, worshiping, studying, teaching…and hopefully, writing.