Christmas 2011

Brandon, G-pa, G-ma, Me, Kent, and Marissa at Kent's graduation party--12/17/11

Christmas is always such a whirlwind--and begins on Black Friday for our family.  This year we weren't waking up at 3 am to hit the stores; instead, not going to sleep and getting there at 8 pm.  As most of you know, I wasn't too fond of these changes and hope that next year the stores get it right.  Black Friday is the starting gate for Christmas--and I was out to a beautiful lead.  That first weekend the shopping was done, the tree was up, the house was aglow, and cards ready to be mailed.  That's how I roll.

Me!

So with such an amazing lead, one would think there'd be no rushing around at the last minute.  Yeah.  Not so much...  On Christmas Eve day, Marissa and I found ourselves running around like crazy people getting all of the last minute gifts, all the items I'd forgotten for our Christmas buffet, and whatever else needed to be done.  With literally minutes to spare before we needed to leave to my sister's boyfriend Kyle's house, we rolled into the driveway.  Rissa jumped into the shower, I started making the veggie/meat tray that I'd forgotten to do earlier, and Kent printed out directions for Brandon--he had to work and would meet us at the party.

Kent, me, my mom, and dad in our ugly sweaters--
Christmas Eve 2011

With the car loaded up--looked as though we'd be moving in--and our ugly Christmas sweaters donning our backs, we drove to Brandon's work.  On the way, I teased Kent about who'd be going into Safeway to deliver the directions.  After all, we did have on these atrocious sweaters on!  Marissa said there was no way she'd be going in!  haha  When we arrived I made my way into the store, where Fuzzy was bagging groceries.  I was turning some serious heads when he noticed me.  "Oh my GOD!  Look at my mom's sweater!"  He gave me a hug, I went over the directions with him, and with a chuckle made my way back to the car.  I love the way he's not embarrassed to just love his mama.

Amanda & Marissa

Driving to Brighton we saw the wild Bison--something I've only seen 3 times now in the million times I've driven by the conservation site.  They were beautiful against the setting sun and the snow covering the field.  Christmas music filled the car--I love the feeling that the season brings about.  It's cozy.

Everyone!

When we arrived at the Dosco's place, new introductions were to be made.  We met his sister, her family, and his mom.  They were all kind and welcoming.  The food my sister and Kyle put together was ridiculous.  Starting with all the apps--from shrimp cocktail to stuffed
 mushrooms, Amanda's now famous Oreo balls to Marissa's 7 layer bars.  There was a ton of food!  By the time dinner arrived--complete with a brisket that spent 16 hours on their grill, asparagus, green bean casserole, homemade mac-n-cheese, and more--there was no room in my belly.  I ate no dinner.  Was too full!


Following dinner, we had the ugly sweater contest.  The winner was hands down--no competition for my father!  His beautifully crafted tinseled cuffs stole the show!  Kent and I wore former "winners" from a party in 2008.  Bran and Roo removed theirs as soon as we arrived and they saw not everyone was part of the contest...  It was fun!

G-pa, Kent, and Fuzz

And then there was the white elephant exchange--with a lot of just nasty, funny gifts.  Kent's took the cake and I ended up with a "pornament"--a new genre of ornament for me!  Good times!

Christmas Eve is a bit different in our home now that Brandon's 17 and Rissa's 15.  Getting them to bed "early" so Santa can arrive just doesn't happen any more.  Kent and I filled the stockings, and hit the hay.  Brandon, Amanda, and Marissa were busy wrapping gifts and just hanging out the way cousins do.  "Make sure you don't stay up too late--gotta work in the morning," I told Fuzz--something I've never had to say before.  He was schedule to work on Christmas morning at 8 am.

Roo

Expecting to be awoken at the usual 4 am, I found myself waking up due to the sun shining through our bedroom window.  What the...?  I picked up my phone and discovered it was almost 7 am!  Geeze! I rushed into their bedrooms and woke up the kids--if we didn't open the gifts up now, we'd have to wait until after Bran got home from work...  They flew out of their beds and we all headed down the stairs.  Paper went flying and we had a great morning.  They were both surprised and thankful for all of their gifts--as were Kent and I.  It was wonderful.

Fuzz

Once Fuzz was off to work, the craziness of the morning began.  Michael, Kent's son, would be arriving at 10 am, with the rest of the family coming at 1 pm.  There was a ton to do!  I threw in Christmas Vacation on the DVD for Marissa to watch while enjoying her Cinnabon, and got started.  This Christmas would consist of grazing food--no sit down dinner this year!  I was like the Iron Chef whipping up a spinach artichoke dip (turned out awesome), beer cheese dip (not so great), and a brandy infused chocolate dip (AMAZING!).  There was food everywhere, once again!

Kent and Michael

Me and Joelle in our new
Packer robes!

When the family arrived we ate, played pool, ate, opened presents, ate, had a game of charades (FUN!), ate, watched the Packers game ( A WIN!) and ate some more!  It was a wonderful time.  I'm reminded every year of what a fun family I have.  I love hanging out with these people!  I laugh so much when they are all around.  It's just good times.  Today as I'm taking down all of the lights, the ornaments, and putting away all of the snowmen,  I can't help but smile and wait for next year's celebration.

Not Your Happy Volunteering Story

Volunteering at Christmas 2010
Marissa, Brandon, Alexis, Mom, Sam, & Amanda

Today my daughter, Marissa, her step-sister, Taylor, and I went to my mom's work.  She's been a nurse forever--with most of her time spent working as a director of nursing in a nursing home.  From the time I was little, I remember going to work with my mom to visit the senior citizens.  As a teen, I would paint the old ladies's nails or just sit and chat with them.  As I got older I would bring them cookies or candy and when I became a mom, have taken the kids there several times a year.  The seniors, for the most part, love the company--especially the kids.  There's a ton of funny stories that I've accumulated over the years--like the time when my mom introduced me to "Bill" who was 94 years young.  When I went to shake his hand, he grabbed ahold and told me that I could call him "Wild Bill"--funny stuff!  There's the women that have called me "Miss America" and the ones that want to just hold my hand or get a hug in.  There was the time when Brandon and Marissa were delivering gifts and the old dude was watching porn--can't make this stuff up!  They were shocked and came running to find me.  Or the little Chinese lady, who didn't speak a lick of English, and who would follow Brandon all around the home.  Or the Korean guy that doesn't do the typical high-five with Marissa--rather does high thumbs.   Or the lady that I visited today, who forgot to get dressed...  Can't help but chuckle a bit.  Each of them has a story.  Some of their stories are decorated on their walls--pictures from the 30s or 40s--some older than that.  I love taking the time to learn about people--to understand them; to see the mark they've left on the world.  I believe we all leave a mark of some sort.

Marissa serving at the Mother's Day brunch--May 2011

Today when I was going around delivering the gifts, helping the seniors open them, and just sitting down for a chat, it felt different; I felt different.  Perhaps it's because I'm getting older or perhaps it's because my parents are.  Regardless, every time I exited a room and ran into my mom I had to whisper the same thing over and over in her ear--"I will NEVER put you in a place like this."  And then jokingly, "Unless you piss me off and then there's a chance..."  haha  Watching some struggle with the tape, but wanting to respect their opportunity to open the present stayed with me.  Those old, gnarled fingers and the paper, thin skin.  Stays with me.  Seeing names like Billie, Ida, and Martha--so different from the names of today's girls.  Stuff like that just stays with me.

This morning three people died before they could receive their presents.  We had to pull those from the pile.  Sad.  And because the nursing home is so crowded, we had to use one of the lady's (who just passed) room to put the gifts for that wing in.  I didn't like that.  One little lady said to me, "Who brought me these?"  I told her, "Santa--you must've been good this year!"  She questioned whether or not she deserved the wrapped up socks, fleece, and candy that was headed her way.  I told her of course she did.  One lady told me of the 15 siblings she grew up with, another of her ailments.  One man wished me "Merry Christmas" at least ten times.  =)

And I got to be honest here--handing out these presents didn't feel good.  Hearing their stories didn't feel good.  There were no warm fuzzy feelings resonating in my heart.  I didn't feel this volunteering happiness that I have in years past.  What the hell?

I found myself taking my time with each of the seniors--helping them unwrap, labeling their gifts (yes, some people actually steal from them--sick), and hanging up their new clothes.  I wanted to talk with them--more importantly, I wanted to give them an opportunity to talk to someone.  I wanted to give them something that no wrapped gift does--time and companionship, even if just for a little while.

See, seeing these people left here to rot really bothers me.  It's like they know this is the last place they'll live before they meet their Maker.  There are some who never have a visitor; others whose visitors make the quick mandatory 10 minute stop then move along with their day.  The excitement on the senior's faces over candy and a robe made me feel horrible.  I could never just let my parents rot in there.  Couldn't do it.

Instead of feeling all warm and fuzzy for doing some volunteer work, I felt angry.  I asked my mom, "How could people do this to their parents?" She made justifications--some of their kids are older than she is and it's difficult for them to manage themselves; throwing an ailing senior in the mix isn't an option.  For others there's not the time or it's just simply too much.  Doesn't matter to me.  Unless they needed 24 hour care, I just couldn't do that to my parents.

I realized how ugly death is--how lonely dying can be.  And I hope that one day, when I'm faced with the inevitable, that I'm not confined to a room, wearing a Depends, hoping my kids will stop by.  There's just no dignity in that--perhaps that is what was bothering me all day.

And one more thing before I go--it's funny (not funny haha, but funny sad).  I was going to change this entire piece because, being so close to Christmas and all, the tone is so dismal.  But I realized that by doing so, I wouldn't be giving a true representation of what the experience was for me.  So I've left it, as is--as honest as I could be.  I hope that it inspires just one person to stop on by and say hi to a senior citizen.  I know they'd really appreciate it.

P.S. Especially if you have little ones!  They adore kids!  Oh, and bring candy--but check first with the nurses, some do have diabetes.

Twas' Two Nights Before Christmas...

Kent and I at Zoo Lights 12/21/11

Twas' two nights before Christmas when all through the house
Fuzz and Roo were at their dad's so it's quiet as a mouse
The stockings were hung by the fireplace with care
I, of course, hung each and every one up there

The children, I'm sure, were nestled all snug in their beds
even though it's noon, I'm sure they haven't even moved their heads
And I'm on the couch, sipping out of my coffee mug
Gator's spending time chewing on the throw rug

When out in the front there arose such a clatter
Was FedEx finally here--those presents do matter!
Away to the window I flew like a flash
Tripping of course, and into the door I did crash

The sun shining on the newly fallen snow
Silence around me, something new I know
When, what to my wondering eye should appear
Brandon, Marissa, you're both finally here!

With my son as the driver, so lively and quick
in his white Honda--and yes, it's a stick
Marissa looked pale--it was quite the drive
first thing she said was, "Hey mom, I'm alive!"

They got to the porch, brushed the snow off their coats
next unwrapped the scarves from around their throats
They flung off the boots that were strapped to their feet
And, then, as always asked, "Mom, what's there to eat?"

Gates jumped up and down, he was so happy seeing these two
there's no one that loves him like Fuzzy and Roo
And into the kitchen all of us went
Making the cookies was none other than Kent

"Can we open just one?" Riss asked again and again
"Nope, gotta wait," I said with a grin
Her eyes rolled to the ceiling, patience isn't her virtue
Picked up one of the gifts, "But this one, mom's for you!"

"Hey, mom, there's none under here for me," this was B's voice filled with worry
"Well have you been good?" I asked--which is a whole other story
"Crap," he said hoping Santa would forget the swearing in class
Why did his teacher have to be such an ass?

The Christmas lights in the room were all aglow
Gates on his bed, outside falling more snow
We decided to play pool downstairs in the basement apartment
kicking some serious butt--now that's my department

Finally it was time to hit the sack
"Come on mom, just one more rack!"
"Nope, not if you want Santa to arrive"
"Seriously, mom" with a roll of her eyes

"You better believe or he won't deliver"
When suddenly up our spines went a shiver
For we heard something up on the roof
the prancing and pawing of each little hoof

"What the..." began Brandon starting to believe
I felt Marissa's arm holding onto my sleeve
Kent grabbed the nearest thing to attack if need be
One pool stick wouldn't do it, so he decided to take three

He made his way up the stairs, the three of us in tow
I'm not staying in the basement--when we heard a loud bellow
Marissa screamed and Brandon jumped on Kent's back
I grabbed ahold of everyone--were we under attack?

Then bells rang out and we heard a "HO HO HO"
In disbelief we ran to see Santa--we had to know!
Was he real?  Was his story true?
Cookies were eaten, milk was gone too!

The only thing that Santa had decided to leave behind
was a tiny note that wasn't left unsigned
"Get to bed" it said and with those three short words
Fuzz and Roo hustled up the stairs in thirds

And suddenly I was taken back to the nights
when Christmas made my kids' eyes dance with delight
My mom would be Santa calling on the phone to make sure they were good
the kids hanging up and behaving like they should

B never liked sitting on Santa's lap, oh how he cried!
Marissa never minded, just stared at him wide-eyed.
And I took pictures as though they were going out of style
yes, that hasn't changed and won't for quite awhile

They left cookies and milk for Santa--carrots for the reindeer too
I made tracks in the snow, and left bite marks from Santa's whole crew
Too excited to sleep, wanting to wake them out of their beds
Tossing and turning, checking in on their sleeping heads

Finally 4 am would come, I could wait no more
crept not so quietly over to their bedroom door
I shook them a bit then said, "I think Santa came!"
and rubbing their eyes,  "GET UP!" they'd exclaim

Jumped out of their beds and ran over to the tree
"Mommy, what do you think Santa brought me?"
I made the hot chocolate and put the cinnabons in the oven to warm
Soon to witness a perfect wrapping paper storm

One by one we'd hand out each one of the presents to unwrap
There'd be oohing and ahhing, sometimes even a clap
And when every present was opened, and everything was clean
We'd go sledding, or skating, or watch a movie on the screen

Now that they're older, and don't truly believe
Santa decided to pull a trick out of his sleeve
And that's when the noise on the roof went a-clatter
Because it's in the believing that all really does matter

"We're asleep!" I heard a voice yell from their room
And that's when I heard another huge boom!
"Kent is that you?"  I asked in alarm
"No," he replied, "please stop twisting my arm!"

And that's when I saw through the window a nose
it was red, and shiny, and brightly glows
"Really?" I asked with disbelief into the night
Kent peering out the window yelled, "I see a red light!"

So off to bed Kent and I scampered on too
and looking out the window we finally knew
Before we caught our breath, he flew out of sight
but we heard him say, "Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!"

Happy Birthday, Button Head

Tomorrow is my little sister's 39th birthday, so I thought it'd only be fitting to write about her.  I used to call her Button Head--mostly because of her fear of buttons.  How weird is that?  She's still the only person I've ever known to be afraid of buttons.  Literally, she owns none.  Her clothes have zippers, or snaps, or velcro.  No buttons, for the Button Head.

Us in Michigan in 1975--Joelle, Me, Chris, and Melanie

I remember when we were little, playing CHIPS on our bikes.  I was always Ponch and she was John.  We used rocks as our CBs, fighting crime on our Wisconsin dirt road.  When we played Little House on the Prairie, I was Laura and she was Carrie--my older sister would be Ma and my brother would be Pa.  In all actuality, he was only playing to "protect us" from the "bears"--in other words, he wanted to shoot out the windows of our playhouse with his gun.  Which he did.  Yeah.   I'll never forget the time when "Ma" went into the house to bring us all lunch.  She proceeded to grab a suitcase, put four bowls in it, fill the bowls with soup, close the suitcase, then went to carry it out to the playhouse!  Yeah, soup didn't fare so well.  There was the time when the four of us decided we were going to run away from home.  This took place in Green Bay.  After packing all of our stuffed animals (of course we were only going to take what was important), three of us jumped onto the banana seat of my sister's bike, with my little sister on the handle bars.  We took off into the cornfield, not lasting very long on this adventure.  The bees came, we started fighting and made our way home.  There was always something going on with the four of us.  I remember always being jealous of the close relationship between her and my older sister when we were kids.

As teenagers, I remember moving to Rhode Island and taking on a different big sister role.  From the small Wisconsin school to the big city school, there were a lot of changes.  She got picked on all the time.  I remember getting into the faces of many girls--having to intimidate them in order for them to leave her alone.  I remember kids calling us M & M and thinking we were twins, although I'm 2 years and 9 months older than she is.  We look the most alike.   I remember threatening some of the guys that liked her--feeling as though I needed to protect her.  And when my older sister and I were out reeking havoc, the Button Head was more of a homebody--not wanting to go to the clubs. There was still a wild side of her--like the time when my parents took us girls to Mt. Tom for our first skiing trip.  They stuck us all in ski school, which we felt we were above.  After one run down the bunny slope, the three of us said, "Screw this," and headed up the lift.  I remember falling down the entire mountain the first five or so times.  At the top the only way down was a black diamond, but if you took the corner about 100 yards down, you could jump onto a blue--which is what we kept doing.  If you missed the corner, it was one of two choices--1) Black diamond the rest of the way down or 2) Fly off the cliff.  I remember on the 6th time, my little sister eased around the corner with no problem.  She just picked up on skiing immediately.  My older sister was second and wiped out at the corner.  I was the third in line and decided I needed to head straight for my sister, with the hopes of either missing her or hitting her.  Whichever, didn't matter to me, as long as I didn't fly off the cliff or have to fall down the black diamond the entire way down the mountain.  I remember missing my sister and flying off the side of the mountain.  It was as though the world was suddenly in slow motion--boots, skis and poles went flying.  I hung onto the cliff and remember Joelle's head peering over the ledge with her yelling, "ARE YOU DEAD?"  The ski patrol had to "rescue" me and the three of us girls were banned from the mountain.  Not a good day!  haha  My parents wanted to kill us.

One of the cows on her farm--SO cute!

I remember knowing my sister was pregnant before she told us--and when I told my mom she was.  I remember my mom getting all upset with me, then getting the phone call two days later, then mad at me for not telling her sooner.  It wasn't that my sister had told me first, I had just known.  I remember when she moved back to Wisconsin, and despite all of my pleas, never returning back to Rhode Island.  I remember envying her independence--she was so unafraid to venture off on her own.  I remember thinking she had lost her mind when I learned she was going to marry a farmer, and do all the duties on the farm herself.  And watching her milk the cows, help with birthing, stories of her getting kicked--it never fazed her.  There are things she has done that I'd never have the gumption to do.  It's admirable.

Austin's team in 2008

When her youngest son was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes, she jumped in wholeheartedly.  She gave him shots every day (now he's on the pump), changed the family's diet, and did things that just amaze me.  She raises money for the cause, and walks with her family every year.  Here I'm afraid when a kid coughs and she's so unafraid.  Once again, it's just admirable.  Seriously, admirable.

And when I think of my little sister, I miss her terribly.  I miss our jokes, our laughter, our discussions.  I miss the way our family just is when she's around--when her entire family's around.  This past summer, when we went to Wisconsin for the first nephew graduation, on our last day we stood in her family room going through her shoes.  The girl has a serious shoe collection--makes mine look meek in comparison.  When the time had come to say our good-byes, I looked over at my little sister, who had started to cry.  Immediately, my older sister and I started crying and ran over to hug her.  And we stood there, hugging and crying, already missing each other.

Fun moment in May 2011--Amanda, Joelle, Me, Melanie,  and Austin (in front) all holding Mikey!

So know, little sister, that you're always missed.  You're always thought of.  You're always loved.  Happy birthday, Button Head!

Peace.

Last week I swore was going to be a great week with my kids come hell or high water.  And it was.  I can't express enough how wonderful the ENTIRE week was!  There was no bickering, no fighting, no talking back.  On the way to school, nobody complained about who was going to sit in the front or about the Christmas music playing on the radio.  It was peaceful.  

Times such as last week remind me of the joys of parenting--because, truth be told, there are often times where the bombs keep going off and I have no clue as to what to do.  During these times, not only do I feel like the worst parent ever, but I find myself constantly shaking my head in disgust and wondering WTF?  

But not last week.  Last week my daughter didn't push me away when I embraced her--so I found myself wanting to hug her constantly.  And I loved it.  I loved that she opened up and talked to me--something my teenaged daughter doesn't always do.  It's just not cool, ya' know? Last week, my son didn't pester his sister.  He wanted to hang out with her, shoot pool with her, and with Kent and I.  I loved it.  I loved that he wanted to be around us--something that's not all that cool, ya' know?  I loved that tucking them in at night was like it was when they were little--with backs being scratched, songs being sung, and hugs all-around.  I loved it.  Times like last week make me sad that my babies have grown up so fast.  I want to bottle those times and tuck them away in a place that is safe.  A place where change can't and won't happen.

I loved that they BEHAVED at Kent's party.  That there was no bickering, arguing, or wanting to leave. I loved that whether we were watching T.V., a movie, eating dinner--whatever the case may be, there was peace.  Ahh...peace.  There's nothing like it in the world.

They'll be home soon--on Saturday, Christmas Eve.  I'm excited because for the first time in years, I'll have Christmas Eve, Christmas day, and New Year's with them.  No sharing this year because their dad is going out of town.  Two weeks of bliss.  Oh, am I ever optimistic!  And while those two weeks may not all be filled with the peace that I love, I know it's there.  I know it's possible.

My two goofy kids!  I love them so much!

A Little Christmas Miracle...

There's nothing more heart-wrenching than to see someone you know and appreciate hurting.  I hate seeing anyone suffer.  Yesterday one of my co-workers shared with me that another co-worker was in a bit of a jam--and really struggling with what he wanted to do and what would have to be done.  His mom, who is 93-years-young, is sick and lives in Nevada.  With money tight, there was no way he'd be able to afford a last minute plane ticket to Vegas.  His heart desperately wanted to be by his mom's side, but his wallet was telling him his choice wouldn't be ruled by his heart.  As he struggled with finding justifications as to why he couldn't go, anyone close to him could see the pain the decision was causing.

This isn't just anyone I work with either.  This is the guy who is always there for everyone.  When the windows in my classroom decided to let in the monsoon that was happening outside, he's the one I called--who by the way not only came immediately to help me move all my books off the shelves and save student work, but who also came bearing towels and buckets.  This happened not once, but two years in a row.  When I had my first puker last year--who, by the way, decided to hurl all over the desks, the floor, one recycle trash can, and all over the hallway--who came running to my aid?  Yup, same guy.  And he doesn't just help me out with the big things--when my pencil sharpener went kaput, or my bookshelf was falling apart, or I needed the "wall" between SS and LA closed off, or if the bulbs in the lights were out--and if a million other things went wrong, there was always that go-to guy to call.  And he always came to help me out, with a smile, chit-chat about our dogs (who are both Dutch Shepherds), and a kind word to go with it.  And he's not just this way with me--he's like this to our entire staff.

I remember when I was a student teacher and some solid advice I received from my mentor was the top three list of who to be nicest to in the building:

1. Custodians
2. Security
3. Admin

And they were so right.  If you were an ass, forget about it.  Those were the top three--and he made the number one slot.  And while I've always been kind, and consider him one of my friends, I've had to ask myself the question--was I just being nice in case I needed something in return?  How crappy is that?  I mean seriously, other than the yearly Christmas cards and treats, when have I ever done anything to demonstrate my appreciation and friendship towards him?

So hearing about his struggling really left an ache in my heart.  Something needed to be done and fast.  Tomorrow's the last day before break.  There was literally a 24-hour window to make something happen.

Luckily, I work in a building filled with people who not only have generous hearts, but are generous with their wallets as well.  Even when the wallets aren't so full.  After all we are teachers, there's not a lot of green floating around.  We get paid once a month, on the 20th, so right now is the homestretch for most people's bank account.  The whole "Only five more days, let's make it stretch" mentality is going on for most.  But you'd never know it as my good friend and I traveled around the school, telling our co-workers about his dilemma.  There were some who got misty-eyed with the thoughts of him not being able to be with his mom; there were some who immediately opened their wallets and donated, and others who joined in to help collect.  Regardless of who we talked to, one thing remained the same--he meant something to every single person in the building.  Every single person.

To meet someone who impacts the lives of EVERYONE around them is not a norm.  As I heard people tell me their stories of how he's helped them or tell me how much they love him or how much he does for them all the time, it made me realize the power of human kindness and of karma.  Yes, I do believe in what comes around goes around.  And for the past few years he'd been going around for everyone, and now it was our turn to come around for him.

With the clock winding down, our staff raised over $450.00 for him.  This would be able to pay for his plane ticket and a car rental (thanks to our travel guru in counseling!).  After tucking the funds safely into a card purchased by another, I sought out one of my students.  I heard he was nestled in his office, so sent my student to seek him out.  Upon entering his office, my student said, "Go to Vegas," handed him the envelope, and walked away.

With a stunned expression, I'm only guessing here, he opened the envelope.  Later on when I met up with him in the counseling office, the tears in his eyes were filled with gratitude and relief.  Our wonderful, kind, and giving staff was able to make sure this man who does so much for all of us would be able to tend to his mother.

And this was the best little Christmas miracle to be a part of.  I'm so thankful to work with people, who at a moment's notice, take care of each other.  Definitely what Christmas is all about.

Mom, I Have a VERY Important Question For You!

Yesterday as I was driving my kids home from school, some interesting tidbits of information was spewing forth from their mouths.  It started with gossip about a girl who's pregnant and continuing to have unprotected sex.  About teachers they can't stand, and how their day went.  When out of the blue my son says, "Mom I have a VERY important question for you."  I'm thinking to myself, "Oh lord, what in the world is this child going to be asking me?"  I braced myself for the question and continued driving on down the road.

"Okay, what's the question?"

"Do you want to be buried or cremated when you die?  This is really important for me to know mom," he asked with complete seriousness in his voice.

When I got over the shock of the question, I answered as honestly as I could.  "Well, I want to be cremated."  As my son continued with where my ashes would be (above his mantle in an urn with a light shining on it to signify Heaven--not by the fire below, which would be hell), I'm thinking to myself, "Where the heck did this question come from?"  I also let him know that if he ever stepped out of line that I would haunt his butt, so he'd better behave.  That comment was met with laughter from both of my kids--along with a "Yeah, right, Mom."

And while the conversations aren't the most comfortable to be having with my children, I am happy to know that my wishes are of importance to them.  Well, at least some of them!  =)