Lunchtime

Luke loves spinach and swiss cheese quiche. Loves it. I haven't made it in a few weeks so this morning I whipped up a batch in hopes that he'd gobble it up for lunch.

He also love avacadoes. In an average week he alone consumes about three. Hello high-end mature taste.

When he has had enough or just plain doesn't like something, he puts it on the table as noted here. The peaches and the quiche didn't make the cut today.

Embracing Moments

Time is ticking away, it marches on whether we want it to or not. Historically I have been one to always look back.



Remembering vacations gone by, family reunions listening to my aunts quip about their childhood, wanting to be back on our honeymoon, wishing I was 5 years old spending summer days riding around in our beat up Army green Chevy truck. The urge to want to go back, to relive those moments is so great that I forget *to live in the moment*. There are new memories to make, and my own husband and children to make them with.

It's time to embrace life. Really embrace it. My kids deserve all of me. John deserves all of me. He told me the other day that when I'm happy and skipping along the road of life he is too and lately there hasn't been much skipping. How sad. Instead I've been kicking and screaming and mourning what will never be and in the end I am wasting so much time. Precious, precious time.

I'm ruining the very moments that I'll want back someday. I am emotionally and physically carrying this baggage around and it's time to check it.

So in this spirit of the now let me tell you what's been going on in the Stevens household.

Ellie is sleeping through the night. Yes you read that right. After 6 months of trying to find our groove we finally found it!! 8pm is bedtime, 4:30 she needs her paci put back in her mouth and she's content until 7am. Glory be, she rocks my world.

Luke has an old (but new to him) swingset that he absolutely adores. He would swing morning, noon, and night if he could with a possible break every now and then to whirl down the twisty slide and climb the ladder. His smile and excitement are infectious.

Firetrucks that sound off "e-o, e-o, e-o" (Luke inspired sound effects) are lined up like a caravan most mornings. The hunt to find the fireman that drives the truck usually results in every toy strewn about the carpet.

He is in love with Richard Scarry books. Pure love, deep interest and total attention paid to every page.

He hates tubby-time but we're working on it.

I am incredibly lucky to be married to such an attentive and loving father. They bring him to tears with their antics and adorableness. He truly embraces and loves fatherhood. As patient as I am with him somedays, he is moreso with me and I am thankful for that.

I guess you have to waste time to realize what you are missing.


PS. I am promising myself that my posts from now on will be on the lighter side of life. My stars (Ellie and Luke) are dancing on the water that's bringing me back to life.

So damn easy to say that life's so hard
Everybody's got their share of battle scars
As for me I'd like to thank my lucky stars that
I'm alive and well

It'd be easy to add up all the pain
And all the dreams you've sat and watch go up in flames
Dwell on the wreckage as it smolders in the rain
But not me... I'm alive

And today you know that's good enough for me
Breathing in and out's a blessing can't you see
Today's the first day of the rest of my life
And I'm alive and well
I'm alive and well

Stars are dancin' on the water here tonight
It's good for the soul when there's not a soul in sight
This motor's caught its wind and brought me back to life
Now I'm alive and well

And today you know that's good enough for me
Breathing in and out's a blessing can't you see
Today's the first day of the rest of my life
Now I'm alive and well
Yeah I'm alive and well

The Grace of Grandmas

My mother brought the box* over on Wednesday evening, it smelled of a cedar hope chest and the passage of time. It was the very baptismal outfit that I wore some 33 years ago, and was adorned with lace and ribbon, layers upon layers of frilly cuteness. The box was askew, the top not quite fitting the bottom, it had curled up a bit throughout the years but the vintage charm of the box and the label on the dress were charming and endearing, representing a time gone by, a lost era. Generations were crossing, traditions were passing on, sacraments were being made. A mother, a daughter, a granddaughter, the circle enlarging as time marches on.





Gram LaSarso is getting on in years and the past few months have been physically and emotionally challenging for her and my mother. Their roles have switched, my mother the caregiver, washing her hair, living at her house, helping her dress and getting up with her in the middle of the night. We joke about the similarities of caring for the very young and the very old. My mother, always the selfless one, always helping others, I see the toll it's taking. Working long hours, living out of a suitcase, hoping Gram doesn't fall, or worse, while she's at work, and yet she rarely complains. And her day off, her day off on Friday's is filled caring for the grandchildren, changing diapers, filling sippy cups, rehashing school days. In some way it must feel good to help, to do whatever she can so that when the time does come she knows she did all she could, something she wasn't able to do for my father, or for hers, they were gone in an instant, there was no waiting period.



Today was a gift. A gift to have Gram here to celebrate with us, to see her great-granddaugther perfectly fill out the frilly gown that she bought for me so many years ago. Ironically the sermon today was all about Thomas the apostle. Thomas. My father's name. How fitting. I teared up, holding my little girl whose smile is so bright and innocent, as the music and songs tugged at my emotions, the feeling of family and loss, love and hope surrounded me. My brother winked at me, that understanding wink. The wink that says he's hear, he knows, he sees us.

I'm looking forward to the day that I can bring the box over to Ellie's house.


*I found this photo of the box on eBay, this picture isn't of our box.

Memories

Tomorrow it will be six years since my father died. I feel like my posts about him and the void that has been left have been very downtrodden. I mean I am writing about a loss, death is not fun or beautiful or happy. But I also don't want to be such a downer all the time. I need to inject more quips about Luke or the sparkley magic that shines in Ellie's eyes. It is pure magic I tell you.

For tonight though I have memories to share. Memories that I want to make sure Ellie and Luke know about. Memories of my dad.

He carried a bible in his lunchbox. He was a devout Catholic but never pushed his faith on anyone. I didn't even know he had one in there until after he died.

He would always wrap his pinky finger around my pinky finger when we said "The Our Father" at mass. When he did, he'd always wink at me when it was over.

When he babysat Jacob he always got down on the floor and played with him, even when he was only months old and every Friday he bought him a Matchbox car after he picked him up from the sitter.

He hated tomatoes and rice. But loved spaghetti sauce and would eat rice in veggie beef soup.

He put a cape on a jumped off the roof of his house when he was in the 1st or 2nd grade, he was convinced he could fly like Superman. He broke his leg and missed so much school he was held back a year.

He went to Iceland with NATO.

He loved Cheez-Its. And maple walnut ice cream. Crackers with Skippy peanut butter were another favorite.

He was terrible at home repairs. He didn't have much patience, he just wanted it done. But he could build a bridge and a road in some underdeveloped country with the Seabees.

He carried a picture of me from my first dance recital in his wallet.

He was school board president.

City hall lowered the flag when he died.

He and Jake used to call me at work in NYC and scream "wuzzzup" into my voicemail.

He used to send me cards to cheer me up when I was homesick the first year of college.

And everyday I can feel him smiling.

Confession

I've been spending a lot of time here connecting with old friends. It's a wonderful guilty pleasure. Guilty I say because it's a time suck. John and I share the laptop so if I'm not on it he is and well then it's time for bed and Ellie needs a nightcap and holyshit where did our night go? It's pathetic. Here I am living the life I've always wanted and there I sit staring at the glow of a computer screen.

There isn't much point to this post other than embarrassment. I just had to get that out. I miss blogging, sharing future memories for our kids to cherish. Technology is awesome but sitting on the couch talking in real time to your husband, holding hands, and laughing is so much more.

Simple Moments

I'm feeling sappy today.

The simple act of buying holiday cards always leaves me with a broken heart. We can't buy Father's Day cards, or cards for our "Parents", or for "Grandma and Grandpa" only cards for Mom/Grandma. Luke, Ellie and Will, will never get to sit in their Papa's lap or hear his laugh, or see him smile with pride at their cute little faces.

It's Valentine's Day, hug your loved ones, sit your kid in the lap of their grandparent, kiss them goodbye. It's the simple moments that we remember and hang on to.

Picture Perfect

Time has been precious as of late. The moments are fleeting and the days zoom by with huried schedules topped of with lovely flashes of big Ellie smiles and random moments of Luke actually wanting to cuddle. I've had many a blog entry in my mind and too little quality time to get them out. So in place you have pictures from our weekend, hanging at home and watching the big game.

Ellie, our little Strawberry Shortcake who is someday going to pull a fast one over her father. He's mush when it comes to her. and Luke, not to be overshadowed by his sister's ladylike ways, has been battling ear infections and the stomach flu. We've seen the doctor more this winter that it seems we did his entire first year. He hangs in there like a champ though. He can puke one moment and run off smiling the next, seemingly unfazed. Until the next round of squeamishness hits.