Who New

I keep having brief ideas for a blog post and then lose them when I sit down to write. Or they just kind of fizzle after the first sentence or two. Or worse, I have SO MUCH to say I can't get my thoughts organized or don't have the time to write what I really mean in a complete way.

Sooooooo, today you get random thought farts. Lucky you!

Twitter I signed up for Twitter (Follow me! I'm Snarkdog) this summer. I'm still not sure I really get it. I follow about 20 or so people. I find following "famous" people the most interesting thing about Twitter. Jason Mraz sends regular inspiration/gratitude/thought-of-the-day kinds of tweets. (He doesn't actually type them himself which is kind of a bummer.) It has been interesting to read P!nk's posts from her Australia tour this summer too. I also follow Dooce and she has just recently started Tweeting a lot. But I have to say, I don't think if I ranted about crappy customer service anyone would be offering me a free washing machine. I guess having 1000s of blog readers really helps in that regard.

Facebook Oh Facebook, how I love and loathe you! I think I have a serious addiction problem with Facebook. Screw vodka, I walked away from that bitch with hardly a tremor, but take away my social networking and Bejeweled Blitz/Farkle fixes and I may have to be institutionalized. Of course as anyone can tell you, the coolest/scariest thing about FB is that it is like a cyber high school reunion except at this reunion you can avoid the people you hate and those that you don't want to know that you got fat and did nothing to live up to your potential. (But you can show them that your hair finally recovered from that unfortunate perm you had 1980) I've heard many people talk about old flames finding them on FB and just for shits and giggles I did a search for an old high school boyfriend. I found him, didn't send a friend request. He didn't go to my high school so we don't have any friends in common, he did have a friend in common with a couple of my friends but it was like 3 degrees of separation and quite frankly, he was a douche and no one liked him so I doubt he'll be mixing with my cool crowd anytime soon.

I do have the usual complaints/annoyances with FB as a lot of you do I'm sure. While I do love a stupid quiz to pass the time on occasion, I do get annoyed with the constant stream of them from some people. I equate them to Christmas cards. Follow along with me here. Do you get those Christmas cards from people you've known for years but never get to see anymore that are just signed with their names and no note or anything? Or worse, a photo card with pictures of their kids that you've never seen in person and the card is "signed" by the computer that created it. I would much rather receive a long treatise of your year in review complete with details of your last surgery and pics of the scars and photocopies of your brilliant 3 year old's transcripts from Harvard than some bullshit generic holiday greeting. But I digress...These are the same people that do nothing on FB but play games and take stupid quizzes and post EVERY score and result on their feed. (You can disable these notifications and believe me I have!) They never comment on anyone's status or shared photos. They rarely even update their status. Facebook is about connecting with people, getting to know them better or reconnecting after years apart. It is a dialogue. Also, I don't care if your cow is missing on Farmville or if you are looking for an exploding cigar in Mafia Wars or what your latest Hatchling became, especially if you are over say, 12 years old.

The other really interesting thing I've discovered via Facebook is just how many LGBT people went to my high school. I graduated in a class of 106 students in a very small town in rural Michigan in the mid 80s (1985 to be exact, and yes that song was written about me, why do you ask?) I knew what gays and lesbians were and even knew a few personally but no one was "out" in the way we are familiar with today. My cousin moved to California sometime in the 70s and I remember when he came home to visit with his "friend" (or maybe we were progressive enough to call him his "partner" I don't remember) and there were assumptions and rumors about a girls' volleyball coach or two over the years but that was about it. But it seems that the "10% rule*" holds true even in small rural communities. (*Common belief is that 10% of the population is LGBT) Many of my gay/lesbian classmates haven't attended any of our class reunions over the years and I think it is probably due to the worry that their lifestyle wouldn't be accepted or understood. I'm hoping that through the buffer of "coming out" on FB and reconnecting with some of us they will realize there is nothing to fear and feel comfortable enough to attend a reunion in the future.

Blogging and reading other people's blogs. I have been blogging since about '01 or '02 I think. One of my old original blogs is still floating around out there in Blogspotland and a couple years of original posts to this blog were lost in an unfortunate database accident about 2 or 3 years ago. I come and go with how diligently I post new things. Probably because I change my mind every 6 months or so as to what direction I want to take with my blog. (Which incidentally is why I chose "eclectic mess" as my name because I knew I would change my mind and naming it something with Knitting, Mommy or Crazy in the title wouldn't make sense in the long run, well except for that last one maybe.)

I really enjoy reading other people's blogs too. I'm very much a voyeur that way. (Which is also why the game/quiz/signed-card only people annoy me so much I guess.) Right now I only have about 30 subscriptions on my blog reader and I need to weed those out further too. I've been adding a few new ones here and there now that I have a little more time to go link surfing and comment reading. I'm always curious to try to figure out how some blogs get so many readers and especially commenters. I've never been very good at self-promotion (see: failed business venture 2008). Because I read so many blogs in my blog reader I don't often see other people's blog templates or sidebar junk but often to read comments I have to click through to the actual blog. (BTW, if you only have a partial feed sent to the RSS reader, I will drop my subscription to your blog unless I really love you. Just saying.)

This leads me to a question. Can someone explain how BlogHer works? I think I joined it or signed up or posted my blog address there ages ago but never had the time to figure it all out. Recently I found a few new blogs that I really enjoy (Aunt Becky I'm talking about you again in that weird stalker way I have) and I know they are "members" of BlogHer but I still don't quite understand what is involved and how one goes about getting involved. I'm not sure I'm really down with the big ugly (sorry) advertising thing I see in sidebars across blogland so if that is required I may have to think it over more. The other problem I have (and I have many as you are well aware) is I don't know how to classify my blog. Is it a craft/knitting/sewing blog? Yes, sometimes. Is it a parenting/mommy blog? Yes, but rarely. Is it a humor blog? Only because if I don't laugh I may never stop crying. Is it a lifestyle/personal blog? Most definitely, sometimes too personal. But what am I to do? It's my life.

School started this week Both girls are fine with it. Sarah is a sophomore and Emma is a 7th grader so neither of them had a new school to adjust to so it was pretty smooth sailing yesterday. They both came home with fairly standard first day of school reports. A few weird teachers, a few annoying students, no locker problems and the usual complaints about the bus. I'm trying to acclimate to the 6 a.m. alarm and it has been cold and rainy so I've had to drive them to the bus stop. But all in all it is just another school year.


Maizey got spayed a week ago. She is still wearing the "cone of shame" because she is a tad bit obsessive about her stitches. She slams around the house and into things and people. It is a quite entertaining and a bit annoying. I tried taking it off her and putting a T-shirt on her but she found a way around that too.

Plus she looked even more ridiculous wearing a "Have you hugged your Big Dog today" shirt than one would imagine.

Dog Shit and Two Fisted Drinking

Quite the clever title there huh? Somedays you just have to go with what life deals ya and today it is dog shit.

The last post I just finished and published was not what I intended to write when I sat down in my comfy recliner with my HP-mini notebook and can of diet Pepsi. But it is what came out and what obviously I NEEDED to write.

Today was just one of those days. One of those days that just keeps getting better and better. I won't rehash the last post. I'll just remind my gentle readers that I took my girls shopping and it was trying and tiring. We went to one mall initially and ended up back at what I lovingly refer to as Chuckletown Mall where most of the stores are empty spaces. But there is a Deb store that sells plus sizes and it is one of the last remaining places in the state of Illinois where my daughter can find jeans and homecoming dresses that fit her and don't (usually) make her cry.

When we got home around 5 p.m. I had the horrifying realization that the puppy had been in her crate since around 10 a.m. and that may just have been longer than her digestive system could handle. We came in the house with a sense of exhaustion and trepidation. Fortunately she was fine and clean. She ran for the backdoor immediately and went out to do her business.

But alas! All was not well in the land of the Shiny Island. As we progressed further into the house we smelled the distinctive air of canine defecation. Upon close inspection a steaming pile of crap matching the living room rug almost exactly was found. Heidi had a bad day.

All I wanted to do was relax in my chair with a can of Diet Pepsi and watch last night's episode of Mad Men. But no. I got a pile of shit to clean up instead.

Thank goodness I bought this little machine right after I bought this new rug and before we adopted the new pup. It has paid for itself many times over.

I think the color of that water about says it all.

When I was done I found this glass' worth of wine left in the fridge. I think I earned it.

Edited to add: I find it very difficult to watch Mad Men without a martini and a Lucky Strike but was so pleased to find on this weeks episode the crew at Sterling Cooper working on the "Patio" (the working name for what would become Diet Pepsi) campaign. Cool.

A very special episode of Life on Shiney Island

Christo on a Wheat Thin.

Wednesday is the first day of school for the new year. All Moms everywhere know what means. Shopping. Shoot me now. Or rather why didn't someone shoot me on Sunday? Please.

Shopping with (or for) my girls is so hard. Don't misunderstand, they aren't whiners and don't beg for inappropriate things that we can't afford. Rather both of them are next to impossible to find clothing that fits them. And the problem is a matter of extremes.

If I had to name the biggest failure I've had as a mother it would be Sarah and her weight. I noticed very early on that she was getting chubby at about 6 or 7 years old. We were homeschooling at the time and I tried to find ways to incorporate more physical activity into our day. I also signed her up for soccer, dance and gymnastics at different times to try to meet both her social and physical needs. All to no avail. She inherited the family disdain for organized sports and group activities. As time went on and her size increased I tried different things at the same time trying to NOT make an issue of it all.

Growing up in the 70s and 80s in the era of after school specials and "very special episodes" of Family Ties and Blossom, I was hyper-aware of what negative implications might come from a mother obsessing about her daughter's weight. I didn't want her to have self-esteem issues and eating disorders. Instead I failed in the opposite direction. I figured she'd eventually decide it was time to do something about it and when she wanted to slim down I'd be there to help her in a positive and healthy way. And we've tried. Lord knows we've tried.

To add insult to injury Emma is tiny. She takes after my sister in law who was 115 pounds and had a 32 inch waist two weeks after giving birth to her first son. I know this because she was in my wedding party and I had to take her measurements to the seamstress who was making my bridesmaids' dresses at the time. Emma is going into 7th grade and still can't shop in the Junior's Dept. I finally bought her one of those pathetic little padded bras because she was so depressed about never getting boobies. She is built somewhat like a gazelle or young thoroughbred. All legs and no curves. Many would envy her (I know her sister and I have our moments) but in reality it is as hard as the other extreme that is her sister. Her friends are getting bras because they need them and are getting their first periods and filling out bathing suits and cute sundresses in ways she may never get to do. She can only find clothes that really fit her (but are too short) with Jonas Bros. and Dora the Explorer emblazoned across them. She has a fierce sense of style and has a hard time being able to realize it.

Emma's situation is easier on me as a Mom. She may grow, she will eventually go through puberty. It isn't as hard on the psyche to be skinny in our society. Being a size 00 has its hardships but for the most part it is something that is looked at as a positive in our culture. I'm don't agree with this but it is what it is. She can't help or take credit for the genetic lottery she won.

Sarah's situation on the other hand is something I struggle with on a daily basis. Days like today are particularly hard on both of us. It got to the point that we just gave up trying to find clothes around here. For a few years I made her most of her clothes. That was fine until the teen years hit and she wanted to wear what everyone else wore. Nobody wants to be the girl who wears clothes her Mom sewed for her! Then we found a few stores in the big mall an hour away that carried fashionable stuff in her size. Today even that was an epic FAIL. We did eventually find enough to get her by but I felt so defeated and I know she was pissed. On a positive note, she did find a beautiful dress for Homecoming. She looks so pretty in it but I know that she doesn't feel as pretty as she really is and should feel at this age.

I can't help but feel like it is my fault. I was responsible for the food in the house and what she ate. I didn't make her exercise or stick with a sport. I kept telling her it was okay and she was fine when she clearly wasn't. I wanted her to have a good self image. But instead I fed her a lie. Now it has gotten to the point where she has been in denial about it and it is affecting her health. I know she wants to fix it. I know it is serious and she won't be able to do it alone. I also know it will take some serious tough love on my part to help her achieve what needs to be done. I'm not feeling up to it right now but I know I don't have a choice.

Any resources or advice internet? Especially anything geared specifically toward teens?

**This post will probably be made "personal/private" very soon to try to preserve some semblance of dignity for my girls. I just have to put it out there for my sanity.

Got to get back to the garden

When we were looking for houses 12 years ago one of the things on our must have list was a big yard and lots of privacy. When the Realtor and I drove into this house's driveway I was 98% sure that this was the one. A quick check that the house itself was in good shape and a peak at the huge tree filled back yard and I was 100% sure.

We've done a shit-ton of work on it over the last decade (I swear we JUST moved in!) but there is always more to do. The yard is a never ending slog of work. What the hell were we thinking? Our old house was on a good sized in-town corner lot. I gardened obsessively for the 5 years we lived there and wanted more when we moved. I got more than I ever bargained for here.

This front garden has been a thorn in my side almost from the first year. When we moved in there was a row of thorny trees and a few shrubs and some weedy ground cover. Then we remodeled and moved the garage and thus had to move the driveway a little. We had all the crap trees removed and planted better shrubs. Then a few years later our well burped and died and we had to have a new one drilled. This resulted in a huge mess and a lot of dead stuff in its wake.

The former owners had left a huge pile of landscaping bricks and I used the opportunity to put in a brick patio area where there had been lawn before. I did it all myself and even though it isn't perfect I'm pretty proud of the results. I then planted perennials around the new well and we added a new maple tree.

It was all well and good except that the pumping of the new well brought up a bunch of new weeds and a ton of hard clay soil. I've been fighting those damn weeds ever since.

Last summer was a bad year for my yard and garden. With the store and all I just didn't have the time, energy, or give a shitedness to keep up with the work involved. I just let it grow and go to seed.

This spring I did try to get a handle on it but gave up when the weather got hot. I managed to dig and move about half the hostas that had gotten out of control. We had a row of evergreens planted on both sides of the driveway and the woods cleared around them. I moved hostas to around the new trees on the north side.


A couple years ago I noticed a new oak tree growing in the middle of the bed and left it to mature. It is now a nice sized tree and I want to move all the thick hostas and other plants from around its base.

Today the weather was just perfectly fall like and I had Steve around to clean up after me so I went to town on the mess. I pulled and cut vines, weed trees and Jurassic era thistles until I couldn't stand up anymore. I got about 2/3 done. I'm hoping I can get my old decrepit body out of bed tomorrow and finish it up.


Every cell in my body hurts right now. I'm not sure I'm going to be able to move for a month. Good thing I have the Snuggie to keep me comfy in my recliner while I watch my favorite episode of Supernatural from last season. (The Monster at the End of the Book)

Working for the Weekend

I'm just trying to avoid house cleaning this morning. We are having one of our typical summer parties this evening so I really need to get to work but blogging, facebooking and general time wasting is so much more fun.

Steve had the news on this morning. It is actually still on in the living room and he is at Jewel buying food for tonight. I hadn't been in there for at least 30 minutes when he left. Why did he leave it on? Anyway, I digress...While watching the news channel buffet that he subjects me to on weekend mornings there was this feature story. I'm sorry blame it on my rural roots but that is just plain awesome, I don't care who you are. It also figures that a guy named Bob came up with this idea. It is a proven fact, guys named Bob are just full of awesome sauce. (My dad is named Bob, enough said. And this rule does not prove true for guys named Rob, Robb, Robby, Robert or Roberto.)

On facebook a new "friend" (I've never met her and have only read her blog and know she lives in the same town as me) posted a link to the NYT article where her blog, Mommy Wants Vodka (see now why I consider her a "friend"?) is mentioned. Once again I am on the cutting edge of the current zietgiest and not only does no one notice or care but someone else is out there doing it better than me. FML.

Well I guess I can't avoid it any longer. I have to go vacuum up 358# of animal hair and wash all the floors. I'm feeling so sassy this morning that I think the toilets will get an extra swish of the ol' toilet brush!

The Kids Are Alright

Yesterday I took Sarah to her babysitting job in Geneva and she was a little early. (She works for a local agency that holds a single-mothers support group at a church once a week. I figure seeing what young single mothers deal with on a weekly basis is about the best teen pregnancy prevention out there.) We walked around town and got some Starbucks to kill some time. We were sitting on a bench and I was absently watching a young mother with her adorable toddler walk down the other side of the street. The mom was pointing out things and the little girl was stopping and watching bugs and stuff like kids of that age tend to do. I looked away to say something to Sarah when suddenly my attention was drawn back to them as they reached the intersection. The little girl just dashed out into the cross-walk right in front of a minivan. I did that reflexive Mommy Gasp as the mother quickly grabbed her charge and whisked her to safety. Luckily it was a corner that even though it isn't a 4-way stop most people approaching it from the non-stop direction at least slow down and the van stopped in plenty of time to avoid a tragedy.

That is just one small reason why I'm glad my girls aren't that age anymore. If you hadn't already figured it out, I am the mother of teens. Sarah will be 16 in early October so I am right in the meaty thick of teen-dom. Emma is 12 and is right on the cusp of the technically teen years but anyone who has spent more than 5 minutes with a 12 year old girl will know that it is all just a number. And guess what? It really isn't all that bad. When babies are born and all through those wee years we mothers are constantly admonished to "enjoy it while it lasts" and "they grow up so fast" and "before you know it she will be a teenager *shudder*" etc. etc. While all that is true I must confess that many times I said to myself that I wish they would hurry up already and just grow up!

If I could slow the clock down now I would. I love these years. I enjoy being around teens (even other people's teens! I know, right?) When the girls were younger I have to say I didn't really like being around other people's kids. I always did my duty volunteering in the church nursery and hosting play groups but I never enjoyed it. I don't miss having a baby around. My now absent uterus never puckered when I saw a new baby. The end of my child-bearing years didn't send me into a depressive tail-spin. (Lord knows I had enough other crap doing that for me!) But now I don't mind being the house that hosts the pool parties, after-show cast parties, Girl Scout campouts and being the general hang out place. Teens are funny and very entertaining. Maybe because I can't really remember much about being 5 but I certainly remember a lot about being 15 that I can just relate and understand them so much more. A few of the now teens that are hanging around I've know since they were in elementary school and it is really interesting to see who they are becoming. The boy who was obsessed with pandas has grown into a very polite young man with a smart sense of humor. The girl with the uncontrollable giggles and constant chatterbox has grown into a bit of an emo/goth girl with a heart of gold. The only ones that annoy me are the rude ones (luckily not many of those because my kids hate rude people as much as I do) and the ones that can't communicate. I understand being shy, especially around someone's parents for the first time, but if you've known me for 5 years and I speak to you and ask you polite questions at least try to answer me in complete sentences. But for the most part my kids' friends are smart, funny, outgoing and friendly people that I enjoy having around. (Talk to me again in a year or two when they start dating, my opinion may change.)

Maybe it is just because I am inherently lazy but I've relished every step toward independence my children have taken. They now are expected to be able to feed themselves if necessary, do their own laundry, and put themselves to bed at a reasonable time. If they don't they will be hungry, dirty and tired and it won't be my damn fault and I don't want to hear them bitch. (I confess I have failed with the housekeeping part of their upbringing and I apologize right here publicly to all their future college roommates, hotel maids and possible live in lovers.)

Sarah has her driver's permit and will get her license in late October or early November. Am I worried? Am I nervous? Yes, I'm crazy but not insane. I know she is a good driver as far as young first time drivers go. She's always been very mature and responsible. But she is inexperienced. Plus there is the added factor of the other stupid drivers on the road with her. I don't know how many times around here that I've almost bit it because of other idiots doing stupid things. And either by the grace of God or my own fast reactions, I've avoided tragedy. All I can do is hope that she will have the same luck when she takes to the road alone.

I just look at it all like this. I was given a job by the universe when I was blessed with the job of being a Mother to these two precious girls. I put everything I had into it for over 16 years now. I started when I decided to try to get pregnant in the first place. I had very severe endometriosis and getting pregnant wasn't a walk in the park for me. (It wasn't even a simple roll in the hay but I won't go there.) It took us about 3 years to get pregnant both times. I breastfed, read all the right books, bought organic cotton clothes when they were hard to find, used cloth diapers, read to them all the classics and then some, homeschooled Sarah until 2nd grade, balanced lessons and structured activities with down time so they could just be kids. I even limited tv time in the early years so much so that to this day neither of them are all that into wasting time watching tv. (Just try taking away their laptops though...) I had a job to do and I'm almost done with it. My ultimate responsibility was to grow responsible young adults that can function without me. They can think for themselves and take responsibility for their actions and the consequences. I've also cultivated a relationship with them so that over the years we have maintained mutual respect. That is why I don't worry about them growing up and leaving me. That is what they are supposed to do.

Hopefully I won't have to eat my words someday when one of them moves back in with me with her 3 year old twins and meth-addicted boyfriend while the other moves to the other side of the world and won't come home for holidays because she feels that I didn't love her enough and always preferred the dogs over her. But a mother does the best she can and hopes for the best.

Stranger in Town

It is so strange how my mind works sometimes. I get random thoughts and ideas at the oddest times of day and night. For example, I woke up in the night last night with a great idea (as ideas at 4 a.m. go anyway) for a strip club. For some unknown reason I woke up and thought to myself that a club in Hershey, Pennsylvania featuring women of color called "Chocolate Kisses" was a brilliant idea. I don't recall what if any dreams I may have been having that would have led to this epiphany but there you go. See, I don't need to drink to have the crazy.

On to other news you didn't know you needed to know.
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I spent the weekend back in my lovely homestate of Michigan. This time I hit the east side for a mini-reunion with Steve's family and a few days with my Mom and Dad.
This is me and Patty. She is Steve's cousin. They were best friends growing up. People often wonder how Steve puts up with me and what he ever found attractive about me in the first place. It's because of her. She is loud, funny, loves her family unapologetically. In other words, she is me. When I first became part of the family I was told many times that I reminded them of Patty. Thank you Patty for preparing Steve for 20 years of the crazy.

We also had what can only be described as typical midwest weather. It rained all day Saturday (which explains my bad hair) and then got hot and humid. In August rain does nothing to alleviate the humidity, it just adds another layer of wet to everything. Unlike the coastal parts of Michigan the inner part of the state just gets dreadful hot and damp. Sunday there was a breeze but it was a hot, damp breeze. It is the kind of weather that people who live in the desert southwest chuckle and say things like, "At least where we are from it is a dry heat." That's usually when I fantasize about punching them in the throat but that would take effort that I just can't expend in that kind of weather because it would make me sweat more. Instead I just sit around and cuss.

You see we went to my parents' house in the Thumb Saturday night and spent Sunday with them. Did I mention that they don't have air conditioning in their old farm house? So when kids today complain about ANYTHING I can say old people stuff like "You have it so good these days. When I was a kid we didn't have a/c and we liked it." Thankfully my parents bought a new motor home this year and we spent most of the weekend out in the "apartment" where it was air conditioned. Still we slept in the house and I think I may have steamed off 10 more pounds in the night.

There is a new neighbor in the old hood that is causing quite a bit of interesting gossip. About 3 miles up the road from Mom and Dad there is an old farm house that over the past year or so has been completely renovated and a rumor had it that a famous old Detroit rocker was moving in. Growing up in the Thumb there was a big house on the way to Lapeer that was rumored to be the home of said rocker but that was later proven to be an urban rural legend. This time is appears that the rumors are true. My dad used to be a County Commissioner and says that the work permits filed with the county had this famous person listed as owner of the property. Then this weekend he was telling me that a guy I grew up with was on the work crew that paved the driveway up there and was told by the foreman that the owner may show up that day and if anyone bothered him or asked for an autograph they would be fired and no one would get paid. He did show up and talked with the workers (he as a very nice guy from all reports).
Of course on the way home from going to brunch in Sandusky I had to try to get a picture of his house.

So the next time I'm there I'm going to listen to some old time rock and roll and hope to run into the new neighbor when I'm up at the corner store buying my Silver Bullet beer. I'll try to play it cool (like a rock) and not put any night moves on him. Otherwise, the old neighborhood is pretty much still the same.

Laughing With

I heard this song a few weeks ago on WXRT (93.1 in Chicago) for the first time and came home and immediately downloaded it onto my iPod. I then shared it with Sarah and she has since figured out most of the chords on the piano and is learning to play it. I hadn't seen the video until today. I think the visuals of this video really add to the haunting quality of the song. I didn't really have anything interesting to write about today so I just thought I'd share this latest discovery with you.

Enjoy.
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We're off tomorrow morning for a return trip to Michigan. This time we are heading to the east side of the state. Steve's siblings and cousins are having a little reunion in Bay City Saturday (I will resist breaking into a rousing rendition of S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y NIGHT! by the Bay City Rollers here) afternoon and then we are going to visit my parents in the Thumb (you do know that the lovely state of Michigan is shaped like a mitten and that mini-peninsula area over above Detroit is called the Thumb right?) on Sunday. They weren't able to join the rest of us last weekend over in Holland for the camping extravaganza so I'm going to try to make it up to them with an extra special one-on-one (or four-on-two as the case may be) visit. Plus my Dad turns 75 on Tuesday. As I mentioned in my camping post, I left the girls with their other grandparents up in Traverse City on Monday so I suppose it might also be a good idea to get them back at some point too. (They are coming to Bay City with Grandma & Grandpa on Friday night.) I know from the many text messages and phone calls over the last two days that they were pretty much ready to come home Tuesday afternoon.

Wow. That was some parenthetically enhanced writing right there.

Memories are made of this.

Our camping weekend was a lot of fun. We didn't have the greatest weather for camping but it could have been much worse. Setting up tents on Saturday afternoon with gale force winds and intermittent rain was interesting. But it cleared around dinner time and a beautiful double rainbow came out.
 
Sunday was a gorgeous day if a little cool and breezy. The nice thing about the breeze was that it kept the mosquitoes away.
 
I am the youngest of four with my brother Scott being the eldest and 10.5 years older than me. My sisters, Pam and Brenda are 5 and 4 years older than me and almost exactly a year apart. I wasn't exactly an afterthought but the combination of the age differences and the fact that my sisters were practically twins meant that I quite often felt like the outsider growing up. There wasn't a whole lot of the "beloved baby sister" thing going on. (That could also just be because I was a total pain in the ass!) My mother is also the youngest of four (all girls) with a sizable age difference between her and her sisters. I remember her telling me that someday we'd all be the same age and the differences wouldn't matter anymore. I guess that day has finally come. It started when we all started having kids. Scott's kids are all adults now and it is fun having them around. The rest of the kids are all very close in age. Actually the five cousins are all one grade apart in school. Starting in 2011 with Heath (Pam's oldest) we will have one graduation every spring until Emma finishes in 2015.

We used to do this family camping thing when the kids were younger and then lives got busy and we took a few years off. It was so fun to see the teens all hanging out together and playing games (and eavesdropping on their conversations. Teen boys have the funniest things to say about teen girls.) It is also so much easier to camp with kids that can go to the bathrooms and pool by themselves, sleep in their own tent and help set up the campsite. The first time I took Emma camping she was still sleeping in a Pack-n-Play and I forgot a booster seat and feeding her was interesting. I think she ate more dirt that trip than food. The next year she was potty training and we had the potty chair next to a tree because I knew if I tried to get her to use the Porta-Potty she would never get out of diapers.

The Wood Family is also a family of storytellers. My Grandpa told stories of his youth and when his entire family drove Model A Fords from Michigan to California when he was 13 years old. (He also started keeping a daily diary on that trip and made an entry every day until he died in his 90s. My dad has all these diaries in his safe and someday I hope we can have them transcribed) My Dad tells stories about farming and truck driving and trail riding and people he's met and anything and everything else. My siblings and I also tell stories. Memories of camping trips from our childhood.

Remember when we took the truck top camper to the steam engine show and it rained all weekend and there was a river running through the campground? And the "hit and miss" engine was across from our campsite? And Pam got stung by yellow jackets?
What about the time Beth peed on Pam's pillow?
Or the year we camped next to the big family from Detroit and then we went to visit them? Their Dad was a minister at a church and something weird was going on at their church that day. Wasn't there a dead body found behind the church or something?

These family stories are fun to share. I remember listening to the last two generation's stories when I was young and they made me feel connected to a time and a place as well as the people. My kids are growing up away from that place and most of those people. It makes me sad at times that they don't have that sense of connectedness. Little things like holidays together and trips like this one help ease the gap and hopefully help them stay connected with our family heritage. Monday I took the girls up to Traverse City to their other grandparent's and left them there until Friday when we'll meet up with them for a family reunion with Steve's siblings and cousins.

         

Funny, I look at the few pictures I took this weekend and realize there isn't one with my own children. I did take them, they just don't like me in public and don't allow me to take their photo. I hope my sisters have at least one picture of them.

Edited to add:
The best part of the trip was getting home yesterday to find the house clean (Steve stayed home to take care of the dogs and because he had to work) and a full case of diet Pepsi in the fridge. Now all I have to do is repack the tent after it dries out and store all the camping stuff until next year.