Love Notes

WB and I have been apart for almost two weeks, except for a brief two hour visit when he had a layover as he crisscrossed the country for a business trip. I'm okay with us being apart for a little while, but then it starts to wear on me. It reminds me of the days when we were apart more then we were together during our dating years.
We met at the end of the fall semester, dated a few weeks, then he was off to a small Panhandle town for a summer internship at a chemical company and I was going home for a month to my parent's house in Houston. We relied on phone conversations in the beginning and let me tell you we were not at our best with this form of communication. This is how our phone chats went:
"Hi, it's WB." (well, he said his real name)
"Hey, how are you?"
"Alright, you?"
"Fine." long pause which I would dread, so I would begin chattering about everything I'd done that day.
"Sounds good. I gotta go someone is at the door. I'll talk to you later."
"Oh, okay...bye."
Click
Every time I got off the phone with him I had doubts. Is he even interested? That's probably the last time I'll ever talk to him. Just who was at the door? Are we supposed to be dating other people? And on and on it went. I was clueless! You wonder how our relationship could survive long distance with calls like that don't you? It was the love notes. Yep, remember how people used to actually sit down with pen and paper, write a note and put it in the mail. Well, it wasn't that long ago, really. Anyway, in between these tortuous phone calls I would receive the sweetest notes in my mailbox. Sometimes a funny card, sometimes just a handwritten note to let me know he was thinking of me. If we had seen each other for the weekend he would tell me how wonderful a time he'd had and he was looking forward to our next visit.
I would cling to these notes, because it was in these notes that I learned who he really was, I heard him loud and clear, much clearer then over the phone. In fact, during our phone conversations when I'd ask him a bomb question like, "Do you want to date other people?" and his response came after a very lengthy pause, "Why do you?" and then I wanted to pull out my hair because shortly after that he had to get off the phone. But luckily the deer sweet mailman, who I really should have invited to our wedding, would arrive with a letter and in it WB would pour out his heart. He'd tell me that "no way" did he want to see other people, but he understood how it was hard when we were apart so much, and he wanted me to be happy. So then of course I'd have to send him back a letter telling him that I had no interest in seeing anyone else and how happy I was. And so it went.
We survived that summer and when he returned we'd only have a few short months before we'd once again be separated by distance. He spent a lot of money on postage!
Oh, gotta run, it's actually time for me to leave for the airport...WB is at this moment about to enter Texas air space, I've been checking his flight status. Darn, I wanted to tell you about the love notes tucked in my drawers and suitcases, or his quoting of Shakespeare or Keats...I'll have to do that another time!

Nothing is Working for Me Wednesday

Today I normally do a WFMW post. It's not happening today. I have exhausted myself trying to think of a tip to share with you that would amaze you. A tip that would make you all sigh and nod your head or a tip that would leave you singing my praises for the next month or hour, whatever works for you. But alas, my brain is tired, my mommy gears have slowed so that a subtle creaking noise can be heard above all the chatter, arguing, screeching, and giggling of my kiddos.
I find myself telling my kids things I swore I would never utter. I remember going to my room in a pout as a child and making a promise that when I was a parent I would never do that! I look at my children through a hazy fog while slowly words form and tumble forth from my lips. I look around as the words reach my ears, "Who said that?" I ask myself before I realize it was me. That's not what I meant to say, how did that happen?
The other day at lunch my mom tried to pay the bill and my fingers snapped at her twice as I shook my finger at her scolding, "Drop that now, I'm paying!" Good grief, what have I become?
In a couple of weeks WB has some meetings and we're staying at a nice resort/spa. Relaxing you say...maybe, the kiddos are going too. Do you think they offer spa services such as a Mommy tune-up or acupuncture that will clear the cobwebs forming in my brain. Perhaps I'll meditate and visualize my children doing simple tasks without constant prodding by me... without mom losing her cool. Yes, that's it. I need someone to teach me how to be more Zen-like.
And I need someone to teach my children not to say "What?" after every sentence I utter to them, not to constantly be talking about farts, burps and butts (they're girls for crying out loud!), not to pretend their 14 month old sister is a ragdoll to be dragged around, and speaking of Little One; "Just who taught her to pull hair, hit, and screech when she doesn't get her way?"!! And Em and Soph if you are reading this, rip one is not an appropriate alternative for above mentioned bodily functions.
So anyway, excuse my lack of helpful tips for today. I'll be reading everyone else's in hope that they will rock my little crazy world!!

MMM - Little One Walks!

So I told you all that Little One took her first steps last month and then pretty much that was it. But she has now begun her full fledged walking, she was just waiting to get to Gram and Gramps I think. This is where both sisters took their first footward journey. She is so strong she can sit herself down and pull herself up with no help, all is done at her pace. I sense another strong personality in the making:)
That was my Memorable Moment for this Monday.

PS - My oldest child has suddenly expanded her vocablulary with words that I'm not so fond of, as heard at the end of this video. We are now studying the dictionary for alternative word choices!

Snarvil Meets Baby

To continue with my canine stories I just had to introduce you to Snarvil, our first Basset Hound. My Dad named the dog, he is the master of making up words that you will never find gracing the pages of Webster's. But Snarvil wore his name well.

This photo was taken on the day I arrived home from the hospital. It was my first introduction to an animal of the four-legged variety. I'm not sure I was too impressed with him in the beginning but over the years we would form a close bond. I have to note the white shag rug my mother is sitting on, oh and look at those pants my Dad is sporting...Can you guess the year? My mother would like for me to point out that she thinks she looks terrible in this picture. I asked her why and she said she looks tired. Well, yeah you should be tired. You just endured many hours of natural childbirth, have been nursing me around the clock, and you just got out of the hospital with your firstborn. I think she looks beautiful!

Snarvil was a true friend. My mother was very sick while pregnant with me and when she'd go to throw up he would show his support by throwing up alongside of her. He didn't harbor any ill feelings about being pushed aside for the new arrival, he just took it upon himself to never leave my side. He slept under my crib every night, howled along with my crying, and become my protector. I remember sitting on his back watching The Wizard of Oz for the first time. He endured many ear pullings, eye pokes, and even wore a tutu a time or two all without a whimper of protest.

Dad took us dove hunting when I was about four. Snarvil and I trailed behind smelling the flowers, stirring up rabbits, giving chase to said rabbits, singing songs; it was a marvelous day. I don't think Dad ever took us with him again.

Snarvil and I entered the fair dog show. It was our shining moment. Snarvil's shot at having his adorable face etched in the memories of all. We came in third, the newspaper took our picture. My little three year old self was smiling at the camera while Snarvil decided to show his backside to the photographer. Third place, take that! (somewhere we have that newspaper clipping, but I have no idea where it is).

I loved that drooling, ear dragging little guy!

Oh, and I think my dear friend KK is reading this post. And I know your sweet boy really wants a dog...have I convinced you yet :)

WFMW- Summer Fun

This edition of WFMW is combating boredom over the summer. This is always a challenge. I've researched every camp in the area and only my eight year old is interested in going to one. I tried to get her interested in more, but "that sounds too much like school to me" all I kept hearing.
But one thing we have decided to do is give each girl a garden plot. We've already planted what they wanted to grow and each day we are watering and pulling weeds. When our vegetables are ready to pick the girls are going to experiment and make all sorts of good stuff for us to eat. They are keeping a journal of what they planted, along with how well it did (for future reference), some pictures of it along the way, and to finish it off they are including their recipes for everything they made. They've already started finding recipes they want to try and have decided one night we will have a "Garden Night" for our themed dinner.
Hopefully, this will help to keep us busy! For more great tips head over to Shannon's.

That dog was a true Champ

When my sister and her friend moved into a house right after college she wanted a dog. We always had dogs and now that she had a yard she was ready for the companionship of a canine. My Mom knew of her quest so when a co-worker told her of a young Boxer he had rescued she passed on the info. to my sister, Kim. She immediately fell in love with this way too scrawny affectionate being. She took him in and poured on the love and food. Before long his frame filled out and his bee bee gun scarred hide was shiny and healthy looking. Problem was he thought he was the size of her roommates Russell Terrier and the trouble began. My parents ended up adopting Champ and he became fast friends with their older lab, Rueben. They were quite the pair and provided much entertainment. Champ still tried to climb up on your lap every chance he got. When that wouldn't work he'd place his paws on your shoulders while you were sitting and with hind feet on the ground lay on you. He was large for a Boxer, a solid mass of muscle, and not the easiest creature to move once he got "settled" even if it was on top of you!

Em was a baby when we came to visit and Champ immediately watched over her. If she cried, he came running. If she was sitting on the floor in her bouncy chair, he was sitting beside her. When Soph came along he was the same way, but as she grew they became inseparable. Even though he suffered from a sore hip he would allow her to climb all over him. They would sit for hours talking, Soph blabbering away and Champ sitting calmly beside her. Every once in awhile he would put his paw on her arm, she would pause mid-sentence giving him a kiss, and on they went. He was her dog, even if we did live ten hours away.

My parents had him six years when they noticed him lilting to one side as he walked. Then he began to collapse mid-stride. By this time Rueben had been gone for a few years and Champ was inside by my parent's side the whole time. We all feared the worst and I feared just how I would tell my three year old that her best friend was sick. My parents took him to a specialist recommended by the vet. The scans showed a tumor on the spine on his neck. It was in a place that could not be operated on, even if it was benign. They guessed he was about nine years old, his eardrum was completely gone on one side and we could only imagine the abuse he had suffered before he was rescued. We all remembered what he looked like when he first came into our lives, a mere shadow of what he had become.

Soph and I had a long talk about Champ. We prayed and we cried and we told stories of how brave and loyal he was. We wished he had come into our lives sooner, but we understood that somehow his suffering before he met us had made him an extraordinary creature. That he was so gentle and loving after being so mistreated was a lesson to us all.

So we weren't surprised when he rallied and held on for another year after his diagnosis. On his bad days we would call and Gram would hold the phone up to his ear and Soph would talk to him. Darn, if he wouldn't raise his head and listen intently. The day he couldn't get up, they knew they needed to end his suffering. It was time. Soph took the news well. She found comfort in knowing he was now with Rueben and they were running and playing together.

We sent balloons with notes up to heaven for Champ. We still talk about him today, a couple of years later, as if he were a human part of the family.

Not too long after Champ died we heard a story of a little girl who was only six or seven and had died. We soberly listened to the story and were saddened by it until Soph chimed in.

"Don't worry. I bet Champy found that little girl in heaven and they are playing together everyday so she won't be sad anymore."

What a very comforting thought, he was a true Champ!

Memorable Moments Monday - Passing of Time

I know we all think about time, and how quickly it passes. We blink and suddenly almost twenty years have passed since your high school graduation and you open your eyes one day to your sweet baby passing from kindergarten to first grade. It was just yesterday I was laying in a hospital bed watching her sleep, listening to WB snoring beside me, while completely thrilled with my little Fourth of July bundle.

I remember she used to let me pick out her clothes and do her hair so it wouldn't hang in her face and drive her mother crazy! Those days are long gone, long, long gone... She has a mind of her own now (maybe I shouldn't have let her listen to my record of Free To Be Me And You every night as a toddler) and she's not afraid to use it.

We measured her foot today and she wears a size 1 and Em is wearing a size 2. She's already wearing the clothes her big sister just put away last summer!! Good grief, she will outgrow Em here in another year or so.

And as I looked into her big brown eyes as she sang with the rest of her class up on stage, I imprinted that image into my memory. Because I know that if I were to blink I just might open my eyes to her walking across her high school stage wearing that same black hat and smiling that same sweet smile.