New Address

For those of you that still come here ... maybe someday I'll be able to maintain two blogs. But for now, please click on over to my main blog about the The FarmHouse Kids and my life.

www.thesiekmantriplets.blogspot.com

Thanks for visiting!

Tanya

My Sister Kim

Meet my sister Kim, and her daughter Erin. Say hello everyone. Today we had a Bridal luncheon for my niece Tory. Kim and I, along with my other two sisters, Robin and April hosted the whole she-bang. It was a great success and lots of fun. Loads of food, lots of laughs and a few tears. It was a recipe for happiness on a beautiful sunny day!

As I was driving home this evening .. it dawned on me, this was not a traditional bridal shower. Instead, it was a coming together of families. It was spiritual. It held presence, and it was beautiful. The words spoken and the words heard had so much meaning. I truly felt the presence of God in the room.

Coming together of families .. not as in the joining of two families, but in the sense of healing a broken family. Not broken in the sense of injustice or divisions, but broken in the sense of time.

We all get busy in our everyday life .. and life happens. Time marches on, and we look back and see that our lives have changed. Some of us have grown up, and others of us .. have grown apart. It was nice to bring everyone back together today, in prayer .. and in love. It was especially nice today ... to have the sister-in-law that I've missed become a part of us again.

I am a very lucky sister. I have three sisters and one brother, and we're all very close. We have truly been blessed to have each other. I just can't imagine my life without them.

I love you Sis ... it was a great day! We did it good.

Earthquake

Wow ... It's 4:43 am and we just had a doozie of a Earthquake. Our house swayed and things shook for what seemed like forever. It was as if things were rolling, and the sound is what woke me up.

The odd thing is, that we live by a coalmine and when they blast, we feel things shake at times, but this wasn't the coalmine. I remember the last Earthquake about twenty years ago, and this was quite a bit "more" and lasted longer than a typical blast.

Then Juli called me crying saying that they were woke up with her house shaking and everything is off the walls. She obviously is closer to the epicenter than I am. She lives about one hour north-west of me.

At least it didn't wake the kiddo's up ... whew!

Added: after listening to the news ... it's confirmed. 5.4 on the richter scale, and the epicenter is located in West Salem, Illinois.

West Salem is where we lived when my older kiddo's were born and growing up. I wonder if they'll all think about the time when they were little and I had a Earthquake drill. Something tells me that they will!

Happy Birthday Mom

Today is my Mother's Birthday. She's only eighteen years older than I am. Sixty-Nine. I have a young Mother. In saying that, here are a few things I remember about my Mother when I was young.

1. She had a pair of high-heel black "go-go" boots. I thought they were the coolest things! Now I can't imagine my Mom wearing those boots. Wonder if she thought they were cool too?
2. She wore "mini-skirts" when I did. That was back in 1971 when I was a Freshmen in high school. I remember one in particular that was kind of circular and was pea green with flowers on it. All I can say today is: Yuck!
3. She is an awesome cook. I never mastered it quite like Mom did. Do any of us ever cook as well as our Mother's or our memories?
4. She loved her Mother very deeply and was a wonderful daughter.
5. She loved us kids more than we ever knew. Isn't that funny, you never know how much your Mother loved you until you become a Mother. She used to tell me that.
6. She loved those sheer criss-cross curtains. It drove me nuts. She would wash them and hang them so perfectly. I remember how they would blow in the breeze when the windows were open. NOW, I love them too.
7. I remember once when Mom got all new furniture. We thought she'd gone and lost her mind. Our new couch had fruit on it! Avocado Green was the "in" color back in the early seventies, and Mom made sure she got plenty of it. More than anything she loved the "free" fruit dish that Finkes gave her for buying furniture there. She dared us to touch it. It's home was smack in the middle of the coffee table. Again, .... Yuck!
8. She drove a Rambler. I know most of you have never heard of a Rambler. It was the ugliest car on the market. I hated it, but Mom loved it. It was a station wagon Rambler to boot!
9. Speaking of cars, when I was a teenager, my Mother was just not hip or cool, or with it. My Mom and Dad went to buy a new car and she actually told the salesman that she liked those "Grand-Pricks." (Gran Prix) Oh geesh Mom ... you really said that!
10. The funniest thing I ever heard my Mother say while talking to another Mother about some wild kids (she called them wild) caught smoking Marijuana at school. "Yes, and if their parents don't watch those kids .... they'll be smoking that there Pot too!" Yeah right Mom! ... it's the same thing! I was sixteen and wanted to melt into the floor.

Happy Birthday Mom! You are the Greatest .... I love you! I could go on and on and on listing things. But mainly, you were and still are a wonderful Mother!

Tannie

Heart of Gold

I was reading over at Just a Mom a few minutes ago when I should have been in bed. She inspires me so much. She is so caring and giving of herself to others, and is always doing something for others ... so I made a little "blog bling" for her to wear and to pass on.

I'm serious when I say that this woman is "super-woman" and a great quilter to boot! I miss talking to you Jaye. Go visit Jaye and say hello to her ... and you'll leave with a piece of her heart! You'll also be blessed with awesome music!

Be Blessed Everyone.

Carter is Home

Finally. It's been seven weeks today. A long time, but he came home today. He's gained over two pounds and has grown two inches while in the hospital.

I got to be there to take pictures of him getting dressed to come home, and we posed him, and propped him until he decided that he didn't like it. His little preemie outfits fit him so perfectly ... but he won't be wearing them long! It was a very scary feeling to disconnect him from all the wires at the hospital and dress him in his own little clothes.

A flood of emotions came rushing back to me ... and for just a moment I was so overwhelmed at the thought that I had brought three of these little ones home, all within seven days of each other, just three years ago. As I look back now, I'm not sure how I did it .... and there are still days that I don't know how I do it. But I do ...

Tomorrow I am going to go help Carter's Mother organize and rearrange a few things. We're going to spend the day getting to know Carter. Just me and Carter ... and Amy, his Mother. I feel this great need to draw closer to her, and to help her. I think she needs me and I want to be there for her. She is scared and overwhelmed, and needs a soft hand and some understanding. I want to be the one to help her, and I want to bridge a gap that's been hanging over our heads for some time. She has a Mother, but I need to be more to her than I have been, and I need to go home, for me and for Amy.

I'm looking forward to it. This will be the first of many days of me going home. I miss it. It's been a long three and a half years getting the kiddo's old enough that I can go by myself, either alone or with them. I feel like I've accomplished so much in the past few years, but I also feel like I've missed out so much with my older kids while getting the younger ones to this point. Freedom is just around the corner ... once Spring comes. My weekends will be in Illinois being Grandma and Mommy.

Tomorrow will be the first time since my babies were born over three years ago, that I will be leaving them for the entire day, alone, with their Daddy .... I know he can do it! I think. If not, and he has a rough day ... I know that they will all survive and sleep good tomorrow night. .... and him too! I've made arrangements for him to have a babysitter the two hours that he has to milk the cows in the evening .... then he'll pick up where he left off when he gets home.

I'm not even going to worry ... but I am going to hide the black permanent markers!

Be Blessed Everyone.

Carter is ~ Coming Home ~

Carter is coming home Tuesday. Tomorrow I will be taking pictures of him for the last time in the hospital. This picture was taken Thursday.

He no longer has a NG tube. He is taking all bottles like he's starving! He is on NO monitors and is doing fantastic. He even has "fat rolls." All five pounds of him. He's been there for almost seven weeks.

He has a very busy busy day planned for tomorrow. He is being circumsized, doing his carseat challenge and will receive his first Synagis injection for prevention of RSV .... then bright and early Tuesday morning he is out the door! Way to go Carter Joe!

I'm very excited that he's finally ready, but I'm also excited because his first stop after leaving NICU will be to come to Grandma's house for a photo shoot. Instead of having hospital pictures done, I get to do them ... and then I get to show all of you.

Thanks to everyone that has asked and prayed for him.

Be Blessed Everyone.

Hedgeville (Part Two)

Her name was Ruth Hedge. She was my Grandmother, and the woman that taught me about God, and about being humble and gentle and kind. She lived her life by a motto, and taught me to live mine the same way: to always give more than you take, and to always love.

My Mother and Father built a house across the road from my Grandparents on a lot where an old house used to be. It was buried to make way for the new one.

To my Mother, I'm sure it was like going back home again. She was going to live in the same place where she grew up. She was going to be able to look out her front door and see the house she'd lived in for many years. Mainly, she was going to be home again. Just a walk a cross the street to her Mother's house. To the woman that she loved very much. I'm sure she had many plans for the two of them.

I'm sure it wasn't in her plans for her Mother to die just a few short years after she built her home there. She didn't know that she would be taking care of this woman until she passed away. I do know that my Mother would not have had it any other way. God works in myterious ways sometimes. He brought my Mother home when her Mother needed her the most.

I never lived in the house that my parents built then. I was already gone from home. My brother and three sisters did live there for a few years, and one by one they too moved away. My parents divorced and my Mother lived there for years. She remarried and eventually moved to the country. The house in Hedgeville was calling my name, and I listened with my heart, and I moved there with my family.

My kids never got to meet her. She was gone before they were born. But my Grandfather still lived in the old house ... and my kids knew him. He was rough. But he was tender with them. He loved them and he lined them out. They grumbled, but secretly, they loved living in Hedgeville.

He'd sit on his porch swing early in the morning and smoke a cigarette. Most mornings he was working in the garden or mowing his yard by six o'clock. I remember my kids complaining about the buzz of his lawn mower so early in the morning.

He got older and they got bigger, and then they mowed for him. It was never at six in the morning, and he grumbled. They grinned, and did it their way.

Many mornings in the summer, my youngest son Jared would cook breakfast for my Grandfather and they would eat under the shade tree in his yard. My Grandfather loved that boy as much as he loved Hedgeville.

There's more to come next time. Be Blessed Everyone.

Another Carter Update

We've had a set-back. Carter was doing so well, with no problems what so ever. Just a "feeder and grower" and waiting to get big enough to come home.

Thursday evening, they had decided that he was doing well enough to take a bottle every feeding instead of every other. He still was having a bit of a problem maintaining his body heat in an open crib, and that takes a lot of energy for preemies to do .... to maintain their body heat and learn to suck, swallow and breathe at the same time.

His Mother was feeding him a bottle Friday afternoon and he quit breathing. Completely stopped. His lips turned blue and Amy was hysterical. The nurses in NICU revived him without any difficulty and gave him some oxygen.

Now he's back to only one bottle a day with a nurse feeding him. It was unexplained and they still can't find a cause, other than just prematurity and he was working too hard. Usually when that happens, babies can bring themselves back without any problems ... but in this case, he completely stopped breathing and didn't make it back on his own.

I can assume that Carter just bought himself a little extra time in Nicu and will be wearing a Apnea monitor when he does come home, and probably for a good long while.

Be Blessed Everyone.

Hedgeville (Part One)

It's not really a name. Not a legal name anyway .... but it was known by all, in the little Illinois town I grew up in.

Five houses and an old shack stood this side of the levee. A small self-ordained community, and everyone was related. I spent a lot of time there while growing up. My Grandparents lived in one of the little houses there.

My Grandfather came there from Arkansas as a little boy and put down roots in that little river town called Mt. Carmel. He married my Grandmother, built a house there, and never left. It was their home. My Mother grew up in that two bedroom cracker box house, along with her two sisters and four brothers.

My Grandmother's house was plain. I never knew that she was poor. I think she knew, but she never complained. She never complained about not having money, or the finer things in life. She had her family, and she had her God. She worked as hard as she prayed, and I never remembered seeing her tired.

I do remember the coal stove that stood in the living room, and the water pump outside the back door. I remember before she had running water in the house, and before she had a telephone or an indoor toilet. I remember the pictures that hung on the living room wall, and I remember the old Jenny Lind spindle bed that stood in the corner of my Grandmother's bedroom. The bed that I know she slept in all of her married life. I remember that her closet held treasures, with the best being an old box of pictures that I loved.

Mainly, I remember her bible, sitting on a wood cabinet that my Uncle made for her. I loved her bible, and sometimes she would let me thumb through the pages. Once in a while I would come to a paper that she had written on, or a dried flower from her past. She never left me when I looked through her bible .... she was always right beside me. Right beside me, and always in a dress. I remember her hands, and her fingers .... they were so gentle, and she was so patient with me. .... and she loved me, and I knew it.

I remember long before the levee was built, when the river used to flood the Illinois banks. When I was small, we would get in a boat at my Aunt Grace's house and paddle almost half a mile to my Grandmother's house. What fun it was. It was exciting and it was an adventure. I don't ever remember the water getting in her house, but I remember we would tie a rope from the boat to the porch post, and climb out onto the back porch. As I think back, I always wondered why the old house was built up so high in the back.

My Grandmother never drove a car, and she rarely left her house. I remember my Mother or my Aunt would take her to church every week, and if I was lucky ... I got to go with her. She believed in God, and she never cussed. She never raised her voice, and she always laughed .... from deep within her belly.

As I grew older, I remember the days that I would visit there. My cousins and I played in the old hog lot next to her house. We sat in the middle of the road and sifted through the gravel to find the indian beads and Grandma gave us jars to keep our beads in. I loved spending the night there with my cousin. There was something so special about being there. I belonged there, to that area, to Hedgeville. It is my roots.

In the summertime, the men would go to the river and dig mussel shells to sell. I remember the smell on the river bank as they would cook the shells to open them. Every once in a while, a perfect pearl was to be found. I remember gathering the shells as they cooled down and I remember getting to sort through the pearls as if they were diamonds. On really hot days, I would get to wade into the river with my Father. I can still remember that feeling of mud between my toes as I felt for the shells in the river.

Hedgeville is gone now. Progress came along. The houses are gone and a new bridge is coming through. When I go over the bridge leading into Illinois, I am so sad. A part of my life is gone. It's missing now .... the houses are buried and only the levee stands. But in my mind, I can still see Hedgeville in all it's glory ... my Grandmother's garden, and her grandkids playing in the yard. I can hear the giggles, and I can hear my Grandmother calling out to us. It will always be my home.

Her name was Ruth Hedge. My Grandmother, and the woman that taught me about God, and about being humble and gentle and kind. She lived her life by a motto, and taught me to live mine the same way: to always give more than you take, and to always love.

It's funny how life goes. I've talked before about that time line of life that we all live on. My kids can't fathom the changes of a few years. They don't know life without modern conveniences, or luxuries ... and they don't know the wonderful things they've missed in their life. But thirty years later, they did get to live in Hedgeville, and to them it was wonderous. Come back to read part two.

Be Blessed Everyone.

Hand in Hand

Yesterday Joey came home from college for a few days .... and we went to visit Carter. This was Joey's first time to see the guy that was named after him.

Joey held him and loved him and touched him so carefully. Then Carter stretched his hand out towards Joey's. I know Joey was praying for him, and I think Carter knew it when he put his hand in Joey's hand.

Joey is Carter's Uncle, and Carter is a very lucky little boy.

Be Blessed Everyone.

It's Carter ...

This evening I visited my man again. I met Carter's Mommy, Amy, at the hospital before I left town today so I could take a few pictures of her feeding him a bottle for the first time. He sucked it right down without any drops in his heartrate, and did just fine.

Here's a happy Mommy getting to hold him after his bottle.
Hasn't he changed? .... and grown? He's a little doll. Well .... isn't he?
Guess who else loves him? He's quite the snuggly-bunny these days!

Be Blessed Everyone.

Happy Birthday Sis

Okay everyone getting your singing shoes on .... it's Delurk time, and time to say Happy Birthday to my little Sis .... April. She reads here, so everyone sing the "HB" song in the comments! Please ... just a little bit?

I have to tell you .... she's 44 today! She thought she was 45 until my sister Robin told her to figure up the years ... talk about fast aging! See what happens when you enjoy life so much .... it just whizzed right by her!

Happy Birthday April ... I love you very much and I hope you had a great day!

Memories of a Grandmother (Part Two)

Click here to read the beginning ....

I loved my Grandma Imo. To a little girl who was in awe of this woman, that brought gifts and stories and lots of love from far away .... getting to visit her, and have her to myself was the best thing in the world to me.

The summer I was eleven, for two weeks, I stayed with my Grandmother in Peoria. It was so exciting, and I remember looking forward to it for at least a month before I got to go.

It was right after the 4th of July, she came home to visit, and I went back with her. It's funny because I remember the trip as well as the entire visit. Right outside of Bartonville, where she lived, was a bridge. This wasn't just any ordinary bridge .... but a bridge that arched across a wide river, and one that lifted in the middle to let barges travel down the river. I was so amazed with a bridge that had stop lights and raised itself up in the middle. I remember being mesmerized watching the slow moving barge pass under us. It was as if I was in another world.

As we got close to Grandma's house, I remember watching the street signs. Watching for Pershing Avenue. Just a little street that curved around to another street. Not very long, and not many neighbors. Just a small little white house that sat back off the street. I know I'd been there before, but my memory doesn't let me go beyond that year I was eleven. As we pulled into her driveway, I felt so happy to be there.

The little things are so clear. Meaningless little things that tickled me as a child. I remember how clever it was to have a little rubber ball on a string hanging from the ceiling of the garage, so that when she pulled in, and the ball hit the window .... she was "home," in far enough, and could safely close the garage door. I remember her slowly inching towards that ball like it was yesterday. Forty years ago.

As we walked into her house, everything was just like I had pictured. She had talked so much about her house that I knew what I would see. She had pictures of her Grandchildren everywhere, and all the things she had made. The same things she had made for us, and my Mother, and my Aunts and cousins. Her refrigerator held all the little magnets she made. I was in awe of those magnets. I moved them everywhere and I grouped them together. Just like the ones I had at home.

That summer I learned to sew. She taught me how to work her sewing machine. How to thread a needle, and how to embroidery. I was eleven, and I absorbed everything she had to teach me, as if I were a sponge. She showed me how she made her own patterns. In my youth, I thought she was way beyond other Grandmothers. She was so talented, and so crafty, and I wanted to be just like her. There was nothing that she couldn't make ... and everything was so beautiful.

I learned to string beads, and I learned the difference in polyester fabric, and I played in her fabrics and put colors together and we made little doll quilts. She made my Barbie doll clothes, and put them together on little cards with shoes and little Barbie purses with ribbons.

It was a summer to remember .... one that I always will. As I grew up, she taught me more, and her craftiness never slowed down, until she could no longer go. When I was grown, she gave me her sewing machine, the one she taught me to sew on when I was eleven. I cherish that machine. She gave me her patterns that she made my barbie doll clothes with, and she gave me the pattern that she made the dress that my first daughter wore home from the hospital. Those old hand drawn patterns mean the world to me.

She crocheted little hats for Joey to wear in the hospital since he was so small. She worried about his little head getting cold. One of the treasures that I love the most is a dress that she crocheted for Juli from rose colored thread. I know much love went into making that dress for her Great Grand-daughter. This Spring, I'll take Megan's picture in that same dress.

My Grandmother went to Heaven almost ten years ago, but not before my children got to know her well. She followed the same traditions with my kids that she did as I was growing up. I still have the monkey socks she made and all the little toys and dolls she crocheted for my kids. She gave them a quarter when she came to visit, and when she stayed the night with us .... we sat up until the wee hours of the morning .... playing Yahtzee and Scrabble and talking about old times.

Her birthday would have been last week, and I've thought a lot about here lately. I was so lucky to have had a Grandmother like her.

Life is wonderful when you have someone that you love ....

Be Blessed.

Dr. Phil said What?

Yesterday while at work, I was gossiping and laughing with a group of women nurses about silly little things .... and one of them said, "Dr. Phil said that "we women" should always make ourselves look very pleasing to our men."

I thought about that ... and yes, I agree to a certain point. I'm sure Marlboro Man would love to see me in a stretchy tight little butt huggin' outfit with my boobs hanging out and my hair all over the place and makeup on my face with puckered up red juicy lips .... batting heavy layers of mascara at him. But that would be a dream. In color and in reality ... that would be a nightmare!

My evenings are spent in sweat pants, if I'm lucky, with my hair pulled back in one of Meg's hair bows that I picked up off the floor. I wear the same old tee shirt for a few days at a time, with food drippings and snot spots all over the tail. ... and would that be a Bra hanging on the doorknob? I might have shoes on if I can find them, and sometimes my socks do match.

Speaking of socks, the hair on my legs are so spring loaded, most of the time my socks won't even stay up, so why bother. I've sweated off any trace of makeup I might have had the pleasure to put on, on my one and only potty break, and that's only if I take them all with me to the toilet.

Most of the time I'm not sure if the smell I emit is "butt-crack" or just "lack of deodorant," because the only bath I get these days, is when I get soaked from head to toe from them splashing water on me, when they are in the bathtub. I can't get naked and hop in with them, because that might earn me a visit from CPS, and I can't leave them unattended because that just might get me arrested.

You can't walk through my house without breaking a leg because of toy overload. They've torn down the curtains and blinds, the TV is reprogrammed to NASA since Sam is smarter than he should be, and trust me on this one, that just doesn't entertain three years olds these days. They've color coded the walls with crayons, and at this point we're learning how to connect the dots. Paint is cheap and I know a day will come that they will grow up. But for now ....

Generally speaking, my weekends are the worst, since most of them are spent in the house, without smelling fresh air from Friday evening to Monday morning. .... and he's saying that I should always make myself pleasing to look at for my man?

I'm hear to tell you .... Dr. Phil doesn't have three year old triplets, a full time job and doesn't cook, clean and do the laundry everyday! He's not sleep deprived and he doesn't spend 49 hours of his day sitting on the edge of the bathtub waiting for someone to poop. He doesn't yell, "Next" as soon as he wipes a butt and herds one kid out the door and another one in. .... and he doesn't spend the only time he might have to himself sitting on the floor in the dark whispering "get back in that bed, or a mouse might get you!" (yes, Dr. Phil, I'm aware this might cause psychological damage and long term effects, but I need to sleep too. We'll deal with it later!)

Then, after all is quiet in the house, he isn't on his hands and knees under the table scraping food off the floor with the back of a spoon, .... or wiping the milk off of his face that is dripping down through the crack in the table, as he bangs his head fifteen times while scrubbing the floor.

Come on Dr. Phil .... if you said this, tell me you were kidding. Right?!!

Seven years ago, I used to be the "Queen of Strut," and, "looking pleasing to my man" is what got me where I am today! .... fifty years old, living in Green Acres with Marlboro Man, three year old triplets, a nervous Chihuahua that pees on the floor, a house full of flies, and a bunch of stinking cows! Give me a break! I am just trying to find time to suck in enough air to survive. Don't you think for one minute that if I had just one extra hour in my day, I would do my best to please my man a little, right before I pass out from sheer exhaustion when he gets home at night.

So, please don't give him any ideas. I don't have time for this, and trading me in for a newer model just isn't in the picture ... the poor man couldn't afford child support, take care of the kids and milk the cows at the same time!

Like Martina McBride says, and for the sake of my inner woman and the Sisterhood, I'm hanging onto every word she sings .... "my baby loves me just the way that I am!"

Be Blessed all you wonderful women out there, and "Welcome to my World Dr. Phil!"

Now for real: If by chance you read this Dr. Phil .... this was all in fun, except the mouse part, and I'll let you deal with them in a few years! I truly love you, and I would watch you everyday if I had the time, but you know how it is .... sigh!

Memories of a Grandmother (Part One)

One summer when I was eleven, I went to visit my Grandmother in Peoria, Illinois. I got to go by myself, without any sisters or my brother. Just me and my Grandma. I thought I was special, and I learned a lot of things in that two week period. Things that molded me and things I'll carry with me all of my life.

I loved my Grandma Imo. To a little girl who was in awe of this woman, that brought gifts and stories and lots of love from far away .... getting to visit her, and have her to myself was the best thing in the world to me.

~~~~~~~~~~

When we were growing up, in a small town in Illinois, a visit from Grandma Imo was a rare treat. She would stay a night with us, and a night with our cousin's. She would make hot Tea for us, with cream, and we would stay up in the wee hours of the night talking and playing Scrabble and Yahtzee. She was funny. She laughed so good, and she was timeless. She never changed.

Every visit came with a quarter from her. It was her signature. Beautiful shiny quarters that were special because they came from a Bank in Peoria ... and they were so special. We never saved them. It became tradition to run around the corner to a little grocery store and buy a Lemon. I remember she taught us to put salt on them, and squeeze a little juice, just a little at a time. We would make our Lemons last all day.

She always came with her suitcase, and an overnight case that held treasures, that only a little girl would love. My sisters and I would stand behind her in the bathroom as she got ready for the day, and gingerly touch all the wondrous bottles she had in her case. She would make something as simple as spraying her hair, a huge ordeal ... and we would giggle and duck, so we didn't get sprayed. We watched every stroke of her hand as she put on makeup, and we loved the perfume we watched her dabble onto her neck, for we knew that we too ,would smell like Grandma that day.

In the very bottom of her makeup case, she would always have a little bitty container that we coveted. It held the most prized possessions in the world. As her long fingernails would break, she would save them in a little glass container, and one of us would be Queen for the day. She would bring her own special tape, and a bottle of the most beautiful Red fingernail polish, and she would tape her very own fingernail to our finger and paint it Red. She would gently blow it, until it dried, and then she would play with us, and call us, "Dahling!" It was glorious to be the winner of that old broken fingernail. .... and she never forgot who's turn it was when she came back to visit.

We knew that the trunk of her car held things that only she could bring. As I look back in my childhood memories and laugh, I know that the gifts she brought us were out of pure love.

Grandma had a variety of jobs in her life. She once worked in a plastic factory, and she would tell us stories of eating lunch with her friends. We knew them, each and every one by name, and she made them sound special. She would bring us plastic "globs" from when the colors were changed in the machines. We were such lucky kids to have one of these rainbow swirled globs of hardened plastic. They were treasures in our eyes. Brought only for us. By a woman that loved us from the bottom of her heart.

In between visits, she would write us letters, and tell of what she was bringing. I savored her letters. She would write to me in "Pig Latin" that summer. I still have those letters from forty years ago. She used her time making us handmade toys and sewing us dolls and dresses and monkey's and barefoot sandals. Each and every item was to be squealed over and treasured.

~~~~~~~~~~

So for me to have the honor of spending two whole weeks with her .... was the highlight of my life up to that point. I have never forgotten each and every day that I spent with that woman, and I'll always cherish the things she taught me. Come back to read Part Two of my memories.

~~~~~~~~~~

What are the dearest memories you have of your Grandmothers? What did they teach you? Do you want to instill their qualities in your own children? Are they still with you? If so, you're blessed.

Please Pray for Susan (WhyMommy)

Tomorrow ..... Susan is going in for a double Mastectomy. She has fought a hard battle and is winning. She has two little boys, a husband, friends and a whole family that love and need her. Mainly, she has life. A life to live and a life to give to others.I've been praying for Susan pretty much since she was diagnosed.

I'm asking that all you readers please pray for Susan as well. Please take a few minutes in the morning and lift her up in your prayers. Ask God to give steady hands to the Surgeons and let them find clean margins. Let her be aware, and hear them tell her good news. Mainly, pray that she will be cancer free, and be able to live that life with her children and those that love her

..... and in the morning, please share her story and ask those you know to pray for her. Please visit her at ToddlerPlanet and let her know that you're praying for her as well.

Thank you Everyone ... and Be Blessed!

Tanya

Martina and Me

Last night I went to a concert. The kick-off of the 2008 "Waking up Laughing" tour of Martina McBride. I personally think she is spectacular. She totally empowers women and sings about issues that really rock this world. I have to say, of all the women singers out there, she is tops in my book.

What amazed me more than Martina, was the responses she got from young women. You could really tell that were getting into it. Totally. Just in the area I was in, there were a few women that rocked their seats, sang, performed, emotionally and physically were lost in Martina's performance. There were a few that needed prayed for. We won't go there. But they were hilarious. My daughter would have died and crawled under the seats if I shook my "booty" and swayed like some of the women that thought they were Martina.

One woman in particular sat next to me. It was all I could do to try to not make eye contact with her. If she caught me looking at her, she would start to sing to me! She was throwing her arms in the air and singing into her beer bottle. Then she'd stand up a while and wiggle all over. She would then suddenly stop, take out her cell phone and take a picture of herself singing. This woman had it bad! She was so tipsy and so funny .... she should have charged admission.

Every once in a while she'd make a comment to me. Once she said, "I'm going shopping tonight, and buying a pair of those leather pants. Do you think my butt is too fat?" Then, she screamed, "O.H. M.Y. G.O.D.! I want those earrings for Christmas." Then of course, the wiggling and singing started again. That poor microphone, errr, I mean beer bottle was getting a workout.

What really topped it off, was the final song, Independence Day .... this girl went nuts! She belted out every word to that song and was so into the moves that she wasn't even aware of the people around her laughing. It was all I could do to sit there! At that point, I was ready for the concert to be over.

Then the girl leaned over towards me, threw her arms around my neck, and said, "Oh Mom! Thanks for bringing me tonight. I just love you so much." Of course, I said the only thing I could say ..... "I love you too Martina, uh ..... Juli."

Be Blessed Everyone.




The Dairy Wife and Martina. Oops I mean Juli! Yes, she took it on her cell phone. (she likes her cell phone too)