Chandy In The Shed

What does a girl do when she has an extra chandy ?

She tries to find a home for it...

So my shabby chandy now hangs in my garden shed.

I think the electrician thought I was a little looney...

but ..... I love it !!

Being Mom

by Anna Quindlen, Newsweek Columnist and Author

If not for the photographs, I might have a hard time believing they ever existed. The pensive infant with the swipe of dark bangs and the black button eyes of a Raggedy Andy doll. The placid baby with the yellow ringlets and the high piping voice. The sturdy toddler with the lower lip that curled into an apostrophe above her chin.

All my babies are gone now. I say this not in sorrow but in disbelief. I take great satisfaction in what I have today: three almost-adults, two taller than I am, one closing in fast. Three people who read the same books I do and have learned not to be afraid of disagreeing with me in their opinion of them, who sometimes tell vulgar jokes that make me laugh until I choke and cry, who need razor blades and shower gel and privacy, who want to keep their doors closed more than I like.

Who, miraculously, go to the bathroom, zip up their jackets and move food from plate to mouth all by themselves. Like the trick soap I bought for the bathroom with a rubber ducky at its center, the baby is buried deep within each, barely discernible except through the unreliable haze of the past.

Everything in all the books I once pored over is finished for me now. Penelope Leach., T. Berry Brazelton., Dr. Spock. The ones on sibling rivalry and sleeping through the night and early-childhood education, all grown obsolete. Along with Goodnight Moon and Where the Wild Things Are, they are battered, spotted, well used. But I suspect that if you flipped the pages dust would rise like memories.

What those books taught me, finally, and what the women on the playground taught me, and the well-meaning relations --what they taught me, was that they couldn't really teach me very much at all. Raising children is presented at first as a true-false test, then becomes multiple choice, until finally, far along, you realize that it is an
endless essay. No one knows anything. One child responds well to positive reinforcement, another can be managed only with a stern voice and a timeout. One child is toilet trained at 3, his sibling at 2.

When my first child was born, parents were told to put baby to bed on his belly so that he would not choke on his own spit-up. By the time my last arrived, babies were put down on their backs because of research on sudden infant death syndrome. To a new parent this ever-shifting certainty is terrifying, and then soothing.

Eventually you must learn to trust yourself. Eventually the research will follow. I remember 15 years ago poring over one of Dr. Brazelton's wonderful books on child development, in which he describes three different sorts of infants: average, quiet, and active. I was looking for a sub-quiet codicil for an 18-month old who did not walk. Was there something wrong with his fat little legs? Was there something wrong with his tiny little mind ? Was he developmentally delayed, physically challenged? Was I insane? Last year he went to China. Next year he goes to college. He can talk just fine. He can walk, too.

Every part of raising children is humbling, too. Believe me, mistakes were made. They have all been enshrined in the, "Remember-When-Mom-Did Hall of Fame." The outbursts, the temper tantrums, the bad language, mine, not theirs. The times the baby fell off the bed. The times I arrived late for preschool pickup. The nightmare sleepover. The horrible summer camp. The day when the youngest came barreling out of the classroom with a 98 on her geography test, and I responded, What did you
get wrong? (She insisted I include that.) The time I ordered food at the McDonald's drive-through speaker and then drove away without picking it up from the window. (They all insisted I include that.) I did not allow them to watch the Simpsons for the first two seasons. What was I thinking?

But the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs.

There is one picture of the three of them, sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4 and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the
getting it done a little less.

Even today I'm not sure what worked and what didn't, what was me and what was simply life. When they were very small, I suppose I thought someday they would become who they were because o f what I' d done. Now I suspect they simply grew into their true selves because they demanded in a thousand ways that I back off and let them be.

The books said to be relaxed and I was often tense, matter-of-fact and I was sometimes over the top. And look how it all turned out. I wound up with the three people I like best in the world, who have done more than anyone to excavate my essential humanity. That's what the books never told me. I was bound and determined to learn from the experts. It just took me a while to figure out who the experts were...

By Anna Quinlann, Newsweek colunist

Once Upon a Time..

I believe in fairy tales . Once upon a time 20 some years ago...

Back then, Laverne and I were young teachers who loved to go dancing on Friday nights. We had it down to an art; always arriving early in order to get half priced drinks and chairs close to the dance floor . We had a rhythm .. one would dance and the other would hold court in our prized chairs .... and then we would switch. And so it went Friday after Friday after Friday until one August evening .

It was my turn to hold court in our prized chairs and I had allready turned down a certain cowboy several times...Finally in desparation the certain cowboy demanded "Why wont you dance with me ?"

Seriously frustrated, I raised my finger non chalantly into the air and pointed without looking where I was pointing... "Because I promised that guy I would dance with him."

Mission accomplished cowboy disappeared.

Minutes later ...as if I had waved a magic wand when I pointed my finger blindly into mid-air... a tap on my shoulder....

and I turned in my prized chair to see a tall blond handsome guy smiling down at me with a twinkle in his eye.

" I think you promised me this dance " he said.

...and so I danced...

.and the rest is truly a miracle. I met my tall blond handsome husband on that August night. Once upon a time...20 some years ago.

Do you believe in fairy tales ? I do !

Hydrangeas make me happy ....

Happiness keeps you sweet,

Sorrows keep you human,

Failures keep you humble,

Success keeps you glowing,

But only God keeps you going.


Hydrangeas from my 2005 summer garden... I can't wait for them to bloom again !

What makes you happy ?

Stones

To find what you seek in the road of life,

the best proverb of all is that which says:

"Leave no stone unturned."

Edward Bulwer Lytton


I keep this container of beach stones on the table next to my bed
to remind me of this and to remind me of my love for the sea.

I will be there soon....very soon.

Gratitude

Gratitude is when memory is stored in the heart and not in the mind.

I found this quote on Sophia's blog and it grabbed me right in my heart.

Thank you Sophia .

IT'S RED !!

ONCE UPON A TIME...on a b-e-a-u-t-i-f-u-l hill country day in April 2006




DHubby : " For you my bride ".

HS Son: " Cool ".

College Princess: " Oh my god... oh my god... it's awesome... i LOVE it ! "

HS Princess : " Oh gawwwwd.... can you be any more OBVIOUS ? Do NOT pick me up from school in that !"

Bride : I kissed my hubby, put that top down , picked up my friend Pattie, and off we went ! I couldn't have been more OBVIOUS with my glee AND my joy, on that April day. It was both awesome... and cool !
Gracias mi hermano !

Private School Interview

My children were 6,8 and 11 in the spring of 1997 when we decided to apply to a small private school for our eldest daughter. Part of the private school application process involved a family interview. So one Saturday morning I spiffed up my family in their nice,but casual attire, combed the sweet boy childs hair, put a bow in my darling 6 year olds hair, and oohed and aahed over the wonderful outfit my precious 11 yr. old had chosen. Off we went to the office of the headmaster where the five of sat in the 5 leather chairs lined up in front of the headmaster's large desk.

Most of the interview involved questions for my hubby and I and our 11 year old daughter. The 6 yr old and 8 yr old spent the time swinging their legs as they sat perched on those big leather chairs. Towards the end of the interview the headmaster asked each family member "What do you like about the school you are going to ?"

11 yr old : " I like the beautiful new library ."

8 yr son : " uh.... I like playing with my friends "

DH: " I think that is a well run school and the teachers work hard. "

Moi: "(suck-up) I like that our school has enriched the curriculum with a Spanish program . Our children have had Spanish since kindergarten with a teacher who really tries to make learning Spanish fun. "

6yr old : Yeah... and we just HATE her. Her name is Senora Smith ... do NOT hire HER "

Headmaster: " I cant wait to have that child in my class ! "

After the interview we had a family discussion about using the word HATE . It didnt work... not then and not now. I have consoled myself with the fact that maybe she just lives life large.... large and in charge !

Schools out for the summer... almost !

19 more school days
countless activities , finals, swim parties,wedding showers,ball games
and then..... summer vacation

is it
VACATION !!! (YAY)
or is it
VACATION ???? (YIKES)

OK.... its going to be VACATION !!!!! (3 kids remember???)

This summer I want to-
...listen more... talk less
...remember the word gratitude
....read more books
...learn how to take better pictures
..teach my kids to play spades
..get my sewing machine out
...cook more...eat less
..continue working out
..stay in touch with my sister-friends
and relax

How about you ??? How will you spend your summer ?

Lessons

Tired of the hype about the scandal at Duke University ??? Me too !!
I am bleary eyed and head spinning confused about what the facts are and who to believe.

What I do believe is that in all of this lacrosse-underage- beer keg -stripping-assault-or- not MESS that has taken place at Duke.......
there are LESSONS. ... lessons for parents, coaches, universities, and students. Lessons even though we don't really know who is telling the truth. Lessons because I have teens who will soon be in college and I want to make sure they remember the LESSONS and not the CONFUSION.

LESSONS :

PARENTS : If your son pools his allowance to hire $400.00 strippers...he has too much money...take away his allowance and tell him to get a job.

STUDENTS : If you choose to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and choose to use your money to bring strippers and alcohol to the wrong place... you could lose all of you semester hours, your name, your reputation, and thousands and thousands of your parents hard earned money despite your guilt or innocence . You will spend many many years overcoming the consequences of your choice.

COACHES : If you employ a "don't ask don't tell " policy with your teams social-behavior develpment you are flirting with disaster. A disaster in which you could lose your job and your entire program. Teach to the WHOLE child , you have the leverage, use it !

UNIVERSITIES : HELLO ????? How many chances do they get ??? You now have national reputation problems that will take years and millions to repair.

And the lesson for moi ? ...
an editorial in our newspaper summed it up :

Smart parents tell their kids that a failure is wasted if no lesson is learned from it.

Forever and ever amen.

Popping the ?

Chasity's tale of a marriage proposal from her four year old evoked a similiar sweet memory for me :

1993: When I had 3 preschoolers :

3 year old son : " Mommy, I love Tommy. I am gonna marry him ".
2 yr old daughter: " Well...I am gonna marry Mommy !"
6 yr old daughter " You cant do that, I think that's against the law "

3 yr old son : crying... "NO, dont say that !"
2 yr old daugh : crying..." You are stupid" ( to the 6 year old)

Soon the whole family was in tears... the 3 preschoolers with unhappy tears... the 2 adults from laughing so hard they were crying.

So then, the rule in our family was that we would not call anyone STUPID..... and they didn't... they called each other "pid" and then when I nixed that they called each other "stew"... I blew that one off.

The Ring

I had it all planned out.

I started the minute he left for work that morning having mentally practiced all the steps the night before while he was sleeping.

I dressed quickly and then dressed the baby and put her in her carrier.

Shaking and weak, but determined, I slid into the drivers seat of the car.

As I drove thru the neighborhood towards the highway I talked to my 10 day old baby daughter who was safely buckled into her carseat in the back. I wasn't supposed to be driving yet and I wondered... what would my mom say when she found out ? What would my husband say ?


I continued to talk to my daughter, feeling more confident as I drove. "We can do this" I told her. I wanted to surprise him. He was graduating in six months and I wanted him to have a college ring. I had been saving for months. As we pulled into the University Co-op parking lot I panicked ... realizing I did not know how to open her new stroller...all of these new steps, new gadgets, all of this planning that was required just to go to the store with a new baby...

and I had thought nothing was going to change..... just because I had a baby.

That was 18 years and 2 ring sizes ago....

Thelma and Louise

Her hubby calls us Thelma and Louise.

My hubby calls us Laverne and Shirley.

We have been friends for over 25 years.

I never had a sister until I met her.

Back then:

* We loved happy hour and dancing and cowboys

*We wrote our lesson plans while sipping on margaritas... good lesson plans !

*She bought her first house and picked a lot down the street for me.

*She bought a white car and I bought the same car in blue.

*We laughed, we cried, we gossiped, we partied, we dreamed, we schemed

* We loved talking about men.


I knew everything about her and she knew everything about me.. except now we have forgotten over half of it.

Now :

* we love to rehab houses

*we talk about my teens and her grandbaby on the way

* We love to drive thru the hill country in the convertible

* we favor wine over margaritas

* neither one of us married a cowboy .. she married a professor and I married a businessman.

* we favor flea markets over bars

* we still laugh, cry, gossip,dream and scheme

and I am convinced one day we will have retirement condos down the street from each other .

You are my best friend forever ( BFF) Laverne !!!

Thoughts while driving home from lunch on Saturday .

Child Abuse ?

I happily do all the laundry in our house. I love the sorting, soaking, folding, hanging, and drying things just the perfect amount of time so that they air dry wrinkle free. I guess my laundry routine fulfills all of those little OCD tendencies that my family is constantly reminding me that I have. NO ONE touches the laundry except me...

Last week one of the teens in our house was battling a rash over much of her body... we tried creams, soaking in the tub and scheduled a visit to the dermatologist .... then last Saturday I looked at her legs AGAIN and had one of those *AHA* moments...

not a deep one like Oprah talks about... but an AHA moment "lite" ..

It was those *!#** dryer sheets that I use when I lovingly dry the bed linens. Bounce was causing her rash.... and sure enough after I De-BOUNCED her linens... the rash is disappearing.

High school princess is threatening to call DHS to report me for child abuse.

I told her I would take a time out instead.

36 Hours and 2 Semesters ago...

You asked me,
"It won't ever be the same will it ?"

"No, but we can make it new and improved", I answered.

24 hours later we were moving into your college dorm in the 100 degree southern heat.

48 hours later you were on the phone to me sobbing , begging me to come and get you and bring you back home.

36 hours of college credit and 2 semesters later, you are finished with your freshman year of college and ready to come home for the summer.

It won't be the same, it will be a new and improved summer !

High fives to you my college princess....

Up high... down low

Aren't you glad you didnt go 2000 miles away to Brown ?

Sweetie

She didnt want her picture taken that day. I can still hear her, feel her little hand, smell her baby smell. She was the last of my babies and I have cherished every day of her because I knew she was the last one. During the first sonogram of her, the technician said "Look she is playing jumprope with the umbilical cord !" Her nickname is Sweetie. I also call her High School Princess.

Last week as my plane landed in Atlanta my cell phone rang.
I answered it.

The voice on the other end said " Hi Diana , this is Mr. C (social studies teacher). " I called to let you know that your daughter and her friend have been frequently using the words "sexy" and "kinky" as adjectives and descriptors to describe countries and maps in class "

"Oh really ?" I flatly replied....and then let his stupidity sit there in the wide vacant space between us. The conversation ended quickly after that.

She makes A's , she loves her mommy and her daddy, she works like crazy on her homework each night,she has sweet friends, she loves kickball and American Idol and Lee Anne Rimes and babysitting. She is loud and funny. She is a goof and she still travels thru life jumping rope with the umbilical cord.

I could not force her to smile for a picture when she didnt want to back then
and I cant force her to not say goofy things in class now.....
but this morning I let it slip that I was counting the minutes until she went to school !

Ace Who ???

I am sure many of you do not know about Ace...

Five years ago when our High School Princess was a Grade School Princess she loved to read books, play board games, play kickball, and very seldom watched TV. During the summer of 2001, grade school princess began watching a TV program with her older sister and I would hear whoops, exclamations, and "oh my gawdddddds" from the back room of our house. Then, constant chatter about Kelley, Justin, and Tamyra all week long. My curiosity peaked... what was this program luring my grade school princess ? I decided to investigate for myself... and that my friends was the beginning of my addiction to American Idol.

I watch American Idol every Tuesday with my kids and dh.... in fact I dont answer the phone on Tuesdays from 7-8. I love so many aspects about our American Idol experience... I love to see the High School Princess enjoy something so much, I love to see the contestants develop into performers, I love cheering for our favorites, I love seeing the older guest artists help prepare the contestants for a show, and I love that AI is a profanity free program that teens and families can enjoy together. I am truly... hopelessly... addicted... I guess my addiction could be worse !

And so... who is Ace ? He was the latest American Idol contestant to leave the show.

Knock Knock

I live happily in this hill country house with my family... my hubby and 3 teens. Life is good... no big problems. EXCEPT FOR THE FACT I am keeping a secret from my family.




NO ONE in my house knows that I have a blog and I am feeling guilty about my secret.



I am torn... on one hand I write this journal for me...
on the other hand I also journal to preserve memories of our family.

So... I ask you blog sister-friends ....

Who reads your blogs ??? Please tell !!!!

Dear College Princess,

Dear College Princess,
I am writing this letter to tell you how proud of you I am ! This past week you showed me how wise you have become ... by listening to your gut instincts. An acquaintance of yours wanted to set you up with a fellow who was Mr. Wonderful: he was handsome, smart, and had everything going for him. Well... you talked to Mr. Wonderful a few times on the phone and indeed he seemed very charming in his attempts to woo you for a date. Yet you held back... telling me "Mom, something is just not right... I just feel it inside of me ". The boy kept calling... and the girl friends kept on encouraging you to go . Yet you kept listening to that little voice inside . Later that week you mentioned the struggle you were having to a friend in your kinesthetic class . Small villages that college campuses are, your friend happened to know Mr. Wonderful and told you about her dating experience with him . Her experiences validated your little voices inside. I say HOORAY for YOU college princess....

HOORAY for listening to your gut !! You have reached a vital milestone that many adults have not yet conquered !
WAY TO GO !!!

Isnt that right girls ???

Love you tons, Mom

Associates ???

The High School princess who lives in our house loves to tell us great tales from school. One of the recurring high school characters in her tales is a jovial, but reluctant student named Dejeuner. Yes dejeuner is the french word for dinner , le petite-dejeuner would be the midday meal. HS princess says that her friend Dejeuner is a pretty girl who resembles Mandeesa from American Idol (HS princess' favorite show). One day during math class Dejeuner was talking about her two boyfriends.

HS princess wanting to confirm the number, asked " You have two boyfriends Dejeuner ?" .

"Yeah girl... I got two boyfriends and five associates " replied Dejeuner.

"Why 2 boyfriends and what is an associate ? "

Dejeuner quickly explained" Well one boyfriend at school and another boyfriend from the neighborhood. Associates are my peeps who move up to boyfriend in case one of the boyfriends doesnt do right and I fire him. ... how many boyfriends do you have ? "

"Oh.....none.... I dont like high school boys " replies my High School princess.

Hmmmmmm.... associates ?????? What a concept !!! This week we went to see In the Lead with Antonio Banderas... I think I will make Antonio an associate... thats the ticket !!