Monday, December 15, 2014

Daughters Will Love Like You Do

You may or may not know that I don't speak to my biological father and that we haven't been in the same room since 2006.

Until today.

I went to my hometown for my Grandmother's funeral. I knew he'd be there, but I don't know if he knew I would be. Judging from his reaction when I said I was sorry for his loss on my way up to see the casket, I'm not entirely sure he knew I was even still living on the same plant he's been living on.

He got old. He's smaller, has glasses and walks with a cane. When he walked in I stared at him trying to decide if that was really him. Gone is the man who could intimidate just by looking at you. Who always smelled like Halston Z-14 and had a blond, well manicured mustache. He's got a goatee situation that looks like Virgil Earp. He.Got.Old. And he's not even sixty. I began to wonder if he was ill.

But maybe in his eyes, I got old too. I don't think I've actually seen him since before I graduated from college. So I was probably about 21 the last time he laid his eyes on me. I've had two kids and experienced time marching across my face since then. It's possible that young girl he used to know is who he holds in his mind, instead of this older, wiser, mother and wife.

I don't know if he's given me much thought over the last several years. He was a private investigator for years - I kind of think that if he wanted to know me or see me, he would. I don't even know how much thought I've really given him over the years either, though. It ebbs and flows. But when I had children I really began to wonder how a person could have a child floating around in the universe that they know nothing about. I've felt sad, hurt, angry, and rejected by him for the better part of my life. And then at some point I began feeling indifferent.

Until today.

Today, the big man I so desperately wanted approval and love from for so long was a small, sad man with red eyes at a funeral. And I was the strong, tall woman with his grand child strapped to in the Ergo, and (right or wrong) all the power. Our brief conversation (if you can call it that) left me wanting more, but when I turned around he was gone.

I have a sudden, overwhelming fear that the next time I turn around, he'll be gone again - forever - and I won't have tried. I have decided, after nearly a decade of estrangement, that I'm going to try to get in touch with him. I don't want him as a father figure, I have one of those, I just want to know him. Maybe for the first time. So I'm going to give him the choice.

I'm going to give my uncle some time before I reach out to him (I haven't been touch with anyone from his side of the family until today and obviously today has been rough for all of them) and then I'm going to write my dad a letter. We'll never be living an hour apart again, so now is the time. And when we move in a few months, I never have to see him again unless I want to. If he doesn't want to see me, I really believe I'll be okay with that. And today is the first day I have really been able to say that.


And I'd be remiss if I didn't tell you about my Grandma P. She raised 5 boys on a farm. She was freaking tough. She had a filthy mouth and a tendency to hoard food (a Depression Era upbringing will do that). Her boys were serious Mama's Boys - my mom told me that for YEARS each one called home every day, but the family wasn't without it's faults. There was always someone who wasn't speaking to the rest of the group and that was painfully clear when two of her sons didn't sit with the family at the funeral. But when the song Bridge Over Troubled Water began to play, I remembered it was her favorite, and I could hear that I wasn't the only one whisper-singing along. I remembered that even though she'd been my sort-of nuts grandma, she had been a mama too, and suddenly I realized she probably would have had more to offer me as an adult than I had ever realized, and I'm sorry I missed it. How did she raise FIVE hell-raising boys?! Was Bridge Over Troubled Water a mantra for her as a parent? What was? 

Though I don't necessarily regret walking away from a family that at one point would have sooner spit on me than look at me, I do realize that my relationships with those people probably would have changed a lot over the last ten years and I think I might be a little sorry to have missed that. I guess we'll see if my dad feels the same way.

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

I'm Back!

But don't get too excited

So we're here, at my mom's place in Oklahoma. I am getting used to having cable again. I really missed the Food Network. (Seriously, why is that channel so soothing?!)

Erik is in Georgia.

Mom had her surgery and is doing well.

The 2.5 days long road trip went far better than anticipated and we were able to catch up with old friends on the way.

P went from being a crawler to toddling to full on walking. She's now to attempting to run to keep up with big brother. She's not a baby anymore.

G has started a new school, and though I don't think he gets quite the warm and fuzzies that he got at his old school (and how could he, nothing could ever be the same as being one of the first two kids to get the school off the ground) he talks about new friends and likes his teachers a lot.

One rainy day I ran in to my college BFF and her husband (also a close college friend) at Target. We hadn't been in the same place in YEARS. It was lovely.

Thanksgiving has come and gone. Erik came home for the weekend and of course, all was right with the world once again. We had a great meal and our "traditional" Elf breakfast (which I failed to photograph).

G paid his first visit to the dentist and did BEAUTIFULLY! He didn't complain once about a full cleaning and exam. The hygienists was thrilled, I was proud and G was given many prizes. The TV above the exam chair probably made the biggest difference.

Now Christmas is in full swing and I'm writing this by the glow of the Christmas tree.

That covers the last 2 months, right? Okay, great, let's get back in the swing of things!

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Too Long

It really has been too long, hasn't it? My efforts to chronicle our every day life have been hampered by ... our every day life.

We're in full swing of last minute travels, last few days of school and last preparations before we hit the the moving prep hard and then hit the road.

I have lots of things to discuss like:

*Piper's 1 year stat card (that I haven't made yet) and her baptism.
*My first adventure with a kid sick enough to need medication (and the ensuing fit I threw at the pharmacy to get the damn thing filled) - which reminds me I need to write a complaint to RiteAid.
*One last road trip to New Hampshire to see the grandparents before we're more than a stones throw away, which included Erik's college reunion

And soon, G's last day of school. I'm so sad to take him away from there. But I can't get on that right now. I have a few ideas to make his last day special, and his precious teacher is on board.

For now, though, I have to fill my "free" time with prepping, planning, packing and something else that begins with p, I just can't think of anything else right now.

It'll be awhile, blog, but I'll be back. :)

Saturday, August 30, 2014

Musings on Moving

We're down to about 5 weekends in Bradford before we ride off into the sunset.

One will be spent in New Hampshire.
One will be spent in New York.
One needs to be spent baptizing Piper.
One will find Erik at work.

York and work sort of rhyme, right?

So that leaves two. Count them, one, two free weekends before we close the chapter on our lives in Pennsylvania. And I wouldn't even call them "free" so much as "minimally scheduled." Grant is experiencing (and happily, expressing!) some trepidation about the whole thing. I think he's confused about why we're going to Grammie's, why we won't be together, how there's a new school with a different teacher and why we really won't have *our* stuff for about six months. I'm not really sure if having him gone for the pack out or here for it will be more helpful. If there even is one. If we don't get orders, the packing will be on us. And then I started thinking: is it better to ask the teacher if we can bring in some last day treats for his class, or if we should just treat it like another day.
And that got me thinking about a little gift for his teachers who have been so good to him. Do all parents think their teacher loves their kid an extra lot? Maybe it just seems that way because they're always bragging on him. Or maybe all parents just assume that everyone thinks their kids are as perfect as they do? Either way, school has been a great experience for both of us. Going somewhere that we were familiar with (his school is at our church) with at least one, and later more, teachers that we were familiar with before they became "his teacher" has broken us in to these years so easily. It makes me tear up to think of leaving the school. But, "We do hard things", right? That's what we've been preaching to G lately, and I have to epitomize that. Such a fine line to walk between allowing myself to be visibly sad when the time comes to say goodbye - I HATE goodbyes - and then shifting gears to excited for a new adventure.

I guess we'd better get this all figured out though, because the time is drawing near and this is just the first of many times he'll remember what it's like to say goodbye.

Friday, August 29, 2014

Piper is ONE!

 
The sweetest girl I've ever known turned one last week.
 
We had a serious party, with some serious out of towner friends and family.
 
I don't think anyone could possibly love this girl more. Especially her brother. And me. And her dad. But especially her brother. I am amazed by and grateful for their relationship EVERY.SINGLE.day.
 
So now, a few things you might not know about little Pipes, courtesy of her birthday party photos.
  
She likes to chew on her dress hems.


And loves a good game of peek-a-boo!
 

She suffers from a chronic case of Resting Bitch Face.

Exhibit two.

And as it turns out...






....she freakin' loves cake. Which we learned when she dove face first into that cake of hers.

It was Cherry Chip, by the way. I'll be glad I wrote that later.

As an aside: A pack of dad's chem-lights can add at least 2 hours of life to a party.

Someone couldn't be persuaded to go to sleep during her party. But that's okay, we have lots of fun together.


Happy birthday, gorgeous girl! We all adore you!!!

Thursday, August 28, 2014

Throw Back Thursday

Lake trip by the pics.
 
Our great house with a great dock (complete with a duck family living under it!), two boats, a slide and great views.
 
 

 
 Books were read and boat rides were taken.
 
 

 
Neither kid particularly enjoyed their life jackets.

 
But they did enjoy each other! This was taken before our first day of boating!

 
 Grant caught several fish with the help of Papa and the super cool fishing pole and tackle box Papa gave him!
 
Here's Grandma and P looking on. Tell me these two aren't twins.

G wasn't super sure about tubing the first few times out...
in fact, I'd venture to say he was against it.

P is not only the girl with many nicknames, she's also the girl with about a billion sun hats. It's my person mission to have as little of her body exposed to the open air at any time as possible. ;)


 This girl slept on me on our big boating day, and this will probably prove to be the last time.
She's getting too independent for my taste! (Check out what Uncle Mike calls her 1940's bathing suit! She totally pulls it off.)
 
Grant tried tubing again, and apparently all he needed was a little help from dad!

 Thumbs-upping is hard and requires quite a bit of concentration.
 
 Turns out, Erik is kind of a hot dog on the tube. You think you know someone after almost ten years.

 
We forced both kids to try the lake. They were both furious about it.

 

 Erik and Uncle Mike took G out on the kayak on our last night. You can't see it, but G took along a little beach shovel as a paddle.

G has obviously inherited my squinty face.

 

 
 
 
 
This almost became a pretty big incident. We heard them trying to fire it up - or whatever the technical term for creating the hot air is, looked out, and saw this. Seriously, look how close to the water that is! They eventually got high enough to go over those trees in the back ground, but then we saw them start dipping again - toward another lake!
 
Let's look a little closer.

 

 

 And P started "cruising" while we were there, and said her first "official" word - "uh oh!"