Every year around this time there are certain events that mark the end of spring. First, May 26th is the birthday of two very important people...Mike's mom and his grandfather, whom we call "Poppie". Poppie was born in 1912 so he turned 96 this year! I won't tell Janice's age...I'm not sure if she would want me to share. Actually, I am not sure I know her age...29, I think. :-) Secondly, Mike's sister and her family also come into town from Scottsdale. (Chrissy, Darren, Emma and Jack) And, to celebrate the birthdays and Chrissy's visit, we take our yearly trips to the wineries...always alot of fun! We bring the kids along and they have a great time running around, playing catch, and wading in the creek...a place we go every single year to catch "Crawdaddies!!!!"

There is one phrase that comes to mind every time I think of the wineries and that is "Where's Jack?" This probably sticks with me because it is said/heard about every minute or so. Jack is our three-year-old nephew and is a boy like none I have ever known. He is forever disappearing and it only takes about 10 seconds for him to do so. He could be found climbing on a tractor, hiding under a porch, chasing the "winery dog", trying to get into someone's "American Idol" car (he thinks Fords are American Idol cars because the Ford and American Idol emblems are similar), doing his "hit me" dance for complete strangers and sometimes he is found chatting it up with other customers. Although this didn't happen at a winery, just today Jack showed a woman, whom he didn't know, his Thomas the Train underwear and then asked her if he could see hers....and it worked! (For those guys who might need a new pick up line).

Anyway, above are some pictures from the past couple of weeks. Unfortunately, Nathan wasn't able to come to the wineries with us...he was a little under the weather so stayed with Grandma that day. I can't wait to take him next year...he will love the creek! Mandy and Craig had a better time this time than years passed...they are 21 this year!

My Apologies...

My name is Laura and I am not an alcoholic! However, I am somewhat familiar with the 12 Steps. I believe one of those steps is to apologize for those things you have done that have hurt people in your life. I am going to take this opportunity to do just that. Many of the things for which I am not proud, happened as a child. You would think I could forget these, recognizing my immaturity and developmental stage in life, but I haven’t. We are shaped by our experiences and these are now a part of me. On my quest to improve myself, I feel the need to right some wrongs. What better way than to do it publicly (as if there are really so many people reading this blog!).

I will begin with Stephanie. Stephanie was a girl who lived four houses up from mine. She was the girl no one liked. She was overweight, her hair was long, wavy and greasy, her clothes were stained and dirty, she smelled foul and had a personality to match. Rumors flew around the neighborhood about her mother being a prostitute and of her brother being in and out of jail. The police frequented their home and we all assigned various meanings to this.

At school I remember how mistreated Stephanie was by all of her classmates. She was teased unmercifully. She was called “Step-on-me” along with other choice names. And no one wanted “Stephanie germs”. If she touched you, you got the germs and then someone would have to get the pretend “Stephanie spray” to rid one of contamination. At the drinking fountain where normally there would be two lines formed (one for boys and one for girls), the lines changed. Instead there was the Stephanie line and the one for the other children. No one wanted to drink after her.

Stephanie was not a nice child. In fact, the only physical altercation I had ever been in was with Stephanie…and I was not a willing participant. She did not like that I had a friend (she wanted to be the only one) so she chased me home from school and when she caught me, she grabbed my hair and swung me around to the ground. I still remember the sound of the hairs ripping from my head. But I was not the only one who experienced her wrath. She cussed at other children, spit at them, punched and kicked them…

I was not always mean to Stephanie. In fact, I think the social worker in me has been present since I was very young. I tried several times to be friends with her. Another girl in the neighborhood and I would invite Stephanie over to play, do her hair, and tried in a sensitive way to tell her to shower. We would counsel her on how to make friends and treat them well. But whatever we tried, it seems that every effort was sabotaged in one way or another.

As I child, I didn't recognize what was happening in her home. I didn’t know that she was abused by her brother and sometimes had to jump out of the bathroom window to escape his beatings. I didn’t know that her mother had a substance abuse problem. I didn’t know what was happening to her behind the bedroom doors. I didn’t know these things until I was an adult. Some of these things I figured out on my own from my work with abused children and their reactions to abuse. Some of these things she told me directly when we ran into each other as adults. She shared with me how painful her childhood was…how she was abused not only at home but also by her peers at school and in the neighborhood.

Stephanie, I am deeply sorry for your experiences and for any participation I had in your abuse. I hurt for the childhood you had and wish I could’ve made it different for you, even though I was only a child myself. I know it does not help you now, but you have forever affected my life. I became a social worker to help children like you. I became an adoption specialist to help create the most educated, caring families so children won’t be treated like you were. And I teach my children about you…and other children like you. We talk about their classmates at school who are picked on, singled out, or those who abuse or bully their peers. We discuss the importance of treating all people with love and respect and to recognize that some of the most seemingly difficult children are children who are dealing with issues at home. I am grateful for the lesson but wish the lesson learned was not because of your experiences. I hope you have found happiness.

Moving on…Ms. Oster, my seventh grade history teacher…I am sorry I cheated in your class. I remember the day it happened and how horrible I felt. I went into Mrs. Gunnings room and tried so hard to pretend that I didn’t care…I didn’t want the other kids to know that it affected me so much. The next day you told me that you were watching me and based on what you saw, you didn’t think that I felt any remorse. You were so wrong…I think you might owe me an apology for that one! Because it did affect me and I spent the rest of the year trying to prove that I was trustworthy, whether you knew that or not. I have to say that this experience definitely shaped who I am. To this day, I wouldn’t dream of using someone else’s work to get ahead and the thought of losing someone’s trust makes my stomach turn. May every child get caught cheating at least once!

To Laura, my neighbor…I have to confess that I stole a Corey Hart poster from your bottom drawer. He was my idol and I loved him and believed all of his pictures belonged to me! I was even in his fan club! And I am not ashamed to admit that I still wear my sunglasses at night!!!!

Danny, I am sorry I hit you with my car. This is another experience I will never forget…the sound of the thud and the shattering of my windshield. I really thought I killed you! I know I didn't do any permanent damage but that day still haunts me. I guess we both learned from our mistakes. To this day, I still drive slowly in parking lots and I am sure you now know a little more about speed, distance and reaction time!

To the owner of the nursery on Lindbergh…I am sorry my friends and I stole your butt sign. It created a wonderful memory but it was wrong. I would pay for it if you were still in business.

Steve, the rumor starter…I am so sorry that we dumped 20 bags of leaves into your treeless yard. Wait…I am not sorry for that! I only hope that your parents made you spend your entire Saturday cleaning it up.

T.Y....I am sorry I never wore the necklace you gave me. I was young...stupid...and thought that if I wore it, it would give you the wrong idea. I regret that I wasn't more appreciative. I think I might still have the necklace, though.

To that bicyclist the other day...I didn't mean to give you a scare. You were in my blind spot but thankfully I didn't complete my turn and run you over like I did Danny!

Mike...I am so sorry about all the things I have thrown away that were yours. :-) Actually, this is something I'm not too sorry about...you don't even know what those things are...I don't remember either. But be thankful...I have not yet thrown away your favorite T-shirt. I WILL do that someday and I bet you won't even notice that either!

And to all the other people to whom I might owe an apology...I am sorry and I hope that you will forgive me!

Graduation

Graduation...an end and a beginning. A time in life when one crosses over from one phase to the next, the beginning of another chapter.

Throughout life, there are experiences that force us to grow up. These experiences are not always welcome but necessary. I remember walking her into the school on her first day, feeling her fear and hesitation, wanting to hold her close and never let her go. She cried when I left... begged me to return. I would wait at the end of the hall around the corner where she couldn't see me, praying that the tears would stop. I could hear her pleading, "Mommy, please come back! I want to go with you!" It took all the strength in me not to run into the room, scoop her into my arms and take her with me. Instead, I went to my car and broke down in tears. Was this a necessary exercise? We both had to adjust to independence. She needed to grow and I needed to allow her to do so. I missed her as much as she missed me...maybe more...because I was losing my baby! She was growing up and this was a small preview of what is to come.

Each day became easier for both of us. No longer were our walks down the hall accompanied by tears, begging and dragging feet. Now the halls echoed with singing, laughter and children saying, "Hi, Grace!". Okay, it wasn't always this rosy. Every Monday still brought on some hesitation on Grace's part. I eventually diagnosed it as the Monday Morning Allergy. I explained to her teachers that Grace is allergic to Mondays and should be allowed to lay down every Monday morning until she recovers from it. Amazingly, the allergy would clear up after about 15 minutes of rest. There were also times when she refused to walk down the hall to the classroom. A big thanks to the Parenting with Love and Logic techniques...I would offer her a choice, "Do you want to skip backwards or forwards down the hall to your classroom?" She would always choose backwards so every day since that time, she skipped backwards down the hall, holding my hand.

It has been awesome to witness the changes in Grace academically, emotionally, and socially over the past three years. At three, she could barely sound out a word. Now, she is reading books to me! Hearing your child read for the first time is an incredible, amazing experience. At three and four, she was learning to count...now she's multiplying and dividing! She's only six! At three, she was playing independently, spending most of her recess on the swing or digging in the sand, not seeming to notice or care about the children around her. Now, talk of her day always involves her best friends: Kennedy, Brandi and Brooke. At three, she was shy, uncomfortable around other children and adults, didn't want people looking at her or laughing at anything she said. The other day, she showed everyone her "graduation dance", wiggling her little body all over the place, moving her arms back and forth without an embarrassed bone in her body! I am so proud of the changes I see, so proud of the girl she is and so proud of the young woman I know she will become.

Graduation day...her flowered dress, white sandals, blonde hair with a braid down the back, big blue eyes, black graduation cap affixed firmly on her head, big smile, head up high, walking down the aisle to the front of the church. Grace usually shies away from having her picture taken but today, she offered a warm smile to anyone who held a camera in front of her. She seemed to feel some pride in her accomplishments. Maybe that is me assigning feelings to the day...she was most likely just really glad that it was the last day of school! But I recognize the difference in her, how she has grown, the confidence she now possesses.

So, now she enters this new chapter of her life and leaves the last one behind. We move on toward our march to independence, hers and mine. I am sure we will continue this mother-daughter dance of me pulling her close and letting her go until, little by little, she learns to dance on her own.

My Wish

I was getting really good about posting...blogging...but this past week it has been hard to find the time to just sit down for a couple of minutes. Also, I spent about 45 minutes writing the other day and lost everything! That was a little disheartening...I liked what I was writing and then...gone! Ughhhhh! I needed a little time away from that experience.

I was trying to figure out how to add a song to my blog. I will figure it out eventually but the song I wanted to add is My Wish by Rascal Flatts. There might not be music but I will post the lyrics and you all can just add your own music! This long distance dedication goes out to all of my family and friends and to anyone else who might come across this blog...

My Wish

by Rascal Flatts

I hope that days come easy and moments pass slow

And each road leads you where you want to go

And if you're faced with a choice and you have to choose

I hope you choose the one that means the most to you

And if one door opens to another door closed

I hope you keep on walkin' till you find the window

If it's cold outside, show the world the warmth of your smile

More then anything, more then anything

My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to

Your dreams stay big, and your worries stay small

You never need to carry more then you can hold

And while you're out there getting where you're getting to

I hope you know somebody loves you

and wants the same things too

Yeah, this, is my wish

I hope you never look back, but ya never forget

All the ones who love you, in the place you left

I hope you always forgive, and you never regret

And you help somebody every chance you get

Oh, you find God's grace, in every mistake

And you always give more then you take

Oh More then anything, Yeah, and more then anything

My wish, for you, is that this life becomes all that you want it to

Your dreams stay big, and your worries stay small

You never need to carry more then you can hold

And while you're out there getting where you're getting to

I hope you know somebody loves you

And wants the same things too,Yeah, this, is my wish.

How We Began...

Mike and I have been together for over 18 years, since I was 19 years old. And tomorrow (May 18th) is our 12th wedding anniversary. Happy anniversary, Mike! We have a theory about why we ended up together. This might sound strange but we joke that it was because of my feet. I will explain but will first give you a little history.

I grew up in Carrollton subdivision, a well maintained, safe, middle class neighborhood in Bridgeton on the corner of Latham and Selwyn. Mike lived on Selwyn, about 15 houses or so away from mine. Most of my childhood memories are of my time spent playing in and exploring this neighborhood. I remember riding my bike up the street by his house. It would be up his street I would go every Halloween when we went trick or treating. I probably even tried to sell Girl Scout cookies at his door. I played...or watched my teammates play...soccer (this wasn't my forte) with his sister (Hi, Chrissy!). Even though we lived so close, for some reason our paths did not cross directly until much later in our lives.

Mike and I went to different schools. He is an alumni of the local Catholic grade school. I...the product of the public school system. We were (are) two years apart in age, had a different group of friends, lived separate lives yet shared a street.

Little by little, I learned who Mike was. It just so happened that a friend of my sisters, an across-the-street neighbor, had a crush on him. She and my sister would walk up the street, by his house to possibly get a look at him and, if they were lucky, maybe they could strike up a conversation. Instead they were met by an impish, immature boy concerned only with his territory, intolerant of intruders. They were quite disappointed when he threw rocks at them, called them names and yelled at them to go to "their end of the street".

Still, as the years marched on, I didn't really know him...I knew OF him: His bad boy reputation, his athletic ability, "the hottie with the body". I saw him drive...speed...up and down the street. I would think, "What a jerk!" but I was still intrigued. We were in two separate leagues. He represented fast...I felt more comfortable with slow. He was athletic, handsome, and confident. I was skinny, awkward, uncomfortable in my own skin. Never did I imagine that we would ever meet...let alone be married...have children.

During my high school years, as is typical of that stage of development, I was trying to discover who I was. I experimented with my appearance...my hair, my clothes, the music to which I listened. I am sure some of you remember my hair...eight inches tall, teased out like a lion's mane. The music I loved...The Alarm, U2, The Cure, The Clash...or was it Beastie Boys and Bobby Brown. That depended on the year...day...my friends. By day I was on honor roll, captain of the cross country team, on Student Council. By night I was either working, driving around looking for something exciting to do, and I "partied" probably more than I should have. I wanted to be an "individual". Isn't this the goal of every teenager...to fit in by being "an individual"? The irony makes me laugh!

So through this quest for self, one of the ways I chose to express my individuality was by going barefoot. I felt that my bare feet on the pavement, concrete, carpet, or convenient store floor (yuk!) was freeing. I loved to feel my feet against the ground instead of constricted by a pair of shoes. Some kids dye their hair green...I just didn't wear shoes. Remember also, I was a runner...Zola Bud was an inspiration. I went barefoot EVERYWHERE unless I absolutely had to put something on my feet.

You might be wondering what my feet have to do with meeting Mike. I guess there is one important piece of information you need to know. Mike loves feet! I am not sure when or where this fetish began but, as we joke, if it wasn't for his foot fetish, we might never have met.

Until one summer day in 1989, Mike's life ran parallel to mine, never touching directly. Eventually the day arrived...the day we would meet. My sister invited me to go to her friend, Steve's, softball game. Of course I would go...I loved Steve...and watching all of the guys in their tight pants! Hey, I was 19! So there we were, sitting on the bench, watching "the game". And I, of course, was shoeless. I vividly remember Mike walking over to the stands to get something out of his bag...I threw a piece of ice at him and smiled. (I admit...I was a flirt) You have to imagine this next part in slow motion. He slowly turned around to determine who threw the ice at him...He looked over...saw me...saw my feet... (Do you hear the trumpets? Do you see the bright light surrounding the two of us? Do you hear the choir singing?) Okay, I am being a bit dramatic...but he did remember my "cute feet", as he calls them.

Of course, there are many more chapters to the Mike and Laura story...that is just how it begins. The rest of the book would evoke every emotion...love, anger, excitement, sadness, suspense, confusion, peace, comfort and joy. We've lived it for 18 years....we will most likely live it for 18 more...unless he finds someone with cuter feet than mine!

Ryan

I have to share more about my children. I know...I should probably focus on something else...you can tell that they are my life! But since they are my life and are important to me, I have to include them.

Since I started blogging, my children, Ryan especially, has been interested in what I am writing. He liked my "One of the best dates ever" post because it was about him. Then I wrote about Grace and included pictures of her. Since that time, Ryan has been trying to figure out how to get me to write more about him. So, he tries to say funny things and shortly thereafter asks if I am going to put "that" on my blog. You might realize that when children TRY to be funny, they are not always...it's those moments when they are not trying to be funny that they are the most endearing!

So, at the moment I cannot think of one event that stands out in my mind about Ryan...there are so many things he does and says that make me laugh on a daily basis. But for the sake of getting his picture on here, which he keeps asking me to do, I am posting these.

We took a trip a couple of weeks ago to see my dad. We always have a great time when we're there. Ryan loves it because he gets to do all of those fun boy things...he goes fishing, four wheeling and occasionally my dad will take him to the airport to play around in the planes. He loves it! We didn't get to see the planes this time but we had fun doing the other things.

Anyway, here are the pictures from our trip.

Nathan

I realize I haven't written yet about the newest member of our family...Nathan! My little gift from God. I actually think that all of my children are gifts from God but that is actually what Nathan means...that's why we named him that! So, here he is....constantly smiling since he could smile...easy to please...happy go lucky. Of course he does have those one-year-old negative behaviors. When he doesn't get his way, he opens his eyes and his mouth really wide, locks his arms...outstretched, hands open...and screams at the top of his lungs. It's hard not to laugh! If you get close enough you might get whacked across the face. These behaviors are easily dealt with by giving him a one minute time out...he now knows what time out is and I can just warn him. In fact, when I ask him if he needs a time out, he stops what he is doing and sits down on the floor...he's a very smart kid.

Nathan is an excellent dancer. This is something I wish I could get a picture of but since I don't have one right now you will have to just picture it. He clasps his hands together and lifts his elbows out to the side. As he stomps his one foot, his shoulders move back and forth and he moves his elbow up and down. It is soooooo adorable!

He is not saying much right now but is able to communicate what he wants in short syllables. Da is down or dog...dada is daddy...mama could be me, milk or grandma or just about anything else he wants.

The most exciting thing for him is his...well, you know. He found "it" and whenever it is bath time and sometimes during a diaper change he reaches down, touches himself and giggles. Do boys ever change??? Once they find it, they never let it go!

I know this is probably boring for all of you but moms love to brag about their children. Another thing I love is when Nathan blows and catches kisses. When I ask him to blow me a kiss, he puts his hand against his mouth, blows and slobbers into his hand and throws one to me. I then pretend to catch it in the air and place in on my cheek. Then, when I blow a kiss back to him, he slaps himself on the back of his head and smiles.

There are so many other cute things he does...like carries Grace's lunch box around the house waving and saying "ba" to everyone, or how he loves to play with baseball hats and tries to put them on his head, or how he pretends not to hear me when I tell him to stop doing/touching something...he moves his eyes to look my way, gets a mischievous grin on his face but will not turn his head (and will not stop what he is doing). Of course if I come near, he has to run in the opposite direction, laugh and throw whatever is in his hands. He thinks it hilarious.

Life was good before Nathan came into our lives but it is so much better now. I cannot imagine life without him.