Guys. I'm having a day. Scratch that. I'm having a week. I'm so glad it's Friday, you don't even understand. My day week is going so well (no seriously...I forgot my underwear, I forgot my socks, I forgot my shoes, I forgot my phone, I just spilled coffee all over my dress...), I was seriously tempted to make this a more sarcastic, backwards version of my normal where instead of giving you a list of 5 things I loved this week, I gave you the 5 worst things that happened to me this week - and forgetting my shoes on wednesday was probably number 3 on that list...but then I read a post on one of my favorite blogs - Little Baby Garvin, about milestones and changed my tune. She posted about hearing her new baby laugh for the first time and it made me smile - and I figured out how I was going to turn my day around. I am going to change up from my normal list, but I think this one will be better. So now...please to enjoy 5 of my absolute favorite pictures of my baby boy. :-)
OK first of all, though - I have to say. This was really hard! Trying to narrow down the thousands of pictures I have of this kid to 5 of my favorites? I was able to get down to a short list of 53. Then 17. Then 12. Then 10. I ended with 7, which I've been able to successfully cut down to 5 list items. So that's just going to have to be good enough.
1. First Pic as a Mommy
So this isn't technically my first picture with my bubs, but it is the first one that I think really conveys me as his mommy. And now I'm crying. This is starting off well. I think this will always be my absolute favorite picture of the two of us. It's hard to imagine anything better.
2. Laughing
So two pictures for this one - the first time he really laughed (and the picture that really inspired this post) and a recent laughter picture. This kid LOVES to laugh (I think he laughs at things just to hear himself sometimes) and it just makes my heart happy every time I hear it.
3. Those Eyes
I actually don't remember this picture - well, that's not entirely true. I remember exactly this day - it was the first time it really snowed, so I put on his snow suit and put him outside in it (he still didn't own shoes, much less boots, so he was wearing about 6 pairs of socks to cover his feet, but they never touched the ground anyway). It was also the only time he ever wore this snow suit - I didn't even take the tags off! I had never identified this as a favorite picture before either, but as I was going through my collection, I couldn't take my eyes off it - how big and clear and beautiful his eyes are - through my 4-5 rounds of picture cutting for this post, those eyes just had to remain.
4. Funny Faces
This kid. He makes the funniest faces I've ever seen. It's such a great indicator of his little personality. When he was younger, and we still had our google glass, he loved to mimic the face we made when we were taking a picture (on glass, that functionality is triggered by winking). My first round of pictures had about 6 photos of him making his glass face - but the one I kept here is probably the classic. We always compared his face to the vampires in the buffy/angel whedon-verse. You can't see it as much in this one, but we have one where he is the spitting image of David Boreanez in his vamp get up. Even now, his silly faces continue - it probably goes along with the laughter post - he loves to laugh and he loves to make others laugh.
5. Tantrums
Kid is 2. These are to be expected. As with the funny faces, I had about 6 pictures in the original list of him fake crying like this one. When he's really crying, of course I'm right there hugging and loving on him, but when it's clearly a cry (heh) for attention like this - I'm trying my darndest not to crack up laughing and try to snap a quick pic. I'm sure I'll find some use for these as he gets older....tee hee.
OK I'm feeling sufficiently better. This kid can always lift my spirits. Thanks buddy.
And for all of you - have a better Friday then I have had so far - and enjoy your weekend! Until next time,
I decided in 8th grade, after attending public school my entire life, that I was terrified of attending the public high school in my town. It was big, the upperclassmen were mean, and surely, I would never make it. So I convinced my parents to send me to the all-girls catholic high school, one town over. The school itself was about the same size as the middle school both in terms of physical size and number of students - so despite only knowing the 3 or 4 girls from my school who were also going (instead of the entire 8th grade class), it seemed less 'unknown'. And I hate the unknown. After my freshman year, we moved. It was not a big move - practically across the street, but far enough that we had changed towns and school districts. This wasn't a big deal at the time - I was at a private school, so school district didn't matter, and I wasn't any further away from my friends. Cool. Except for what happened during my sophomore year.
I was on the varsity competitve cheer team. About midway through the season, at one of our night time practices, we were drilling our switch splits - a move where you go into your splits on one side, then without coming up off the ground, pivot your hips so you're on the opposite side.
To make this look cooler in competition, while we were in our right splits, and before switching to the left, we leaned all the way forward and touched our nose to our right knee, quickly got back up, then pivoted to the left. The whole move was done in less than one 8-count (and if you know what that is, you know it was a quick progression). So anyway, somewhere in the time it took to the lean down, get up, switch, I felt my hip pop. I had dislocated it. I couldn't walk, it hurt, it was generally awful (as you can imagine). The doctor said I should recover in about a week, but it took nearly the rest of the season for me to get my full range of motion back. When I finally did, it was just in time for our regional competition. And my coach didn't let me compete. Not competing in regionals meant that I also would not get to compete in states (if we qualified - and we did). She essentially kicked me off the team just in time for the most exciting and important part of the season. I was crushed. I went home and sobbed in my mom's bed for 4 hours (I was a teenage girl in high school...this shit was important)! Then I decided I was not cheering for that team again. So naturally, this meant I needed to switch schools.
So the next year, I started my junior year at the new public school in town - the one where I didn't know anyone, because we had moved. I had made the cheerleading team and I thought that meant things were going to be great. I had a whole team of new friends and everything was going to be awesome. It was not. None of the cheerleaders talked to me at school and I had no friends at school for a year and a half. I begged my parents to let me go back to my old school. They didn't. Which brings me to the story I actually intended to tell today.....
It was the beginning of my senior year of high school. Normally, this is an exciting time in a person's life. I was still dreading going to school everyday. I was in my 3rd season as a varsity cheerleader, and my teammates still didn't talk to me. I was making some progress with the people in my choir class, and they would eventually become very close friends - but that wouldn't happen for a couple more months. On particularly depressing days, I would fake sick so that I didn't have to be there and endure the loneliness that was my life everyday. This particular day was in the middle of spirit week. I don't remember the exact theme of the day, but for some reason I was dressed like Britney Spears (a la "Hit Me Baby One More Time").
I'm not sure what I was thinking. I was so self-conscious when I got to school. So it became another fake sick day. I needed to go home. I decided to go to choir class then call my mom to come get me before lunch. At some point in the middle of class, Dawn got up and started to walk out. Our teacher, G. Byron Turner (because you always need to use his full name) tried to stop her. She shut him down real quick - saying something about a plane flying into a building in new york, she was going to find out more and he wasn't going to get in her way. And she left. And that was all I heard or knew. I didn't even pay much attention really - all i remember is Dawn and G. Byron Turner getting into it and Dawn storming out. And that was it. The period ended, my classmates went to lunch, and I went to the office to call my mom. When she got me she was crying and she started to explain what had happened - she was contemplating pulling my sister out as well, but ultimately decided against it. I still didn't fully comprehend the gravity of what was happening. We went home and I laid on the couch and watched the footage over and over again. The rest of the da was mostly a blur. The only other vivid memory I have was watching this.
This is really the first thing I think of when I think of 9/11. This was a senseless act of terror - yes. But it brought our country together. For that day, and for the weeks, and maybe even months that followed, we were one. We were Americans. I wonder if this would still happen today. If this had happened today - in 2015 - instead of 2001 - what would the reaction have been? I'm not sure we're still capable of this kind of unity and compassion anymore. I see a lot of blaming and name-calling that would be thrown around. I know I'm guilty of a lot one-sidedness a lot of the time. But despite that, I still hope for a day where we're not so divided. Where it's not the socialist liberal elite vs the conservative christian right. Where we can live, and love, despite our differences. Have compassion for our fellow man. Admire & respect the value in every human life, despite differences in background, faith, belief, culture. We are a country built on a foundation of difference and diversity. Of understanding that we're not all going to be the same. And that's OK. Can we please get back to that?
What ever happened to the Great American Melting Pot??
You simply melt right in, It doesn't matter what your skin. It doesn't matter where you're from, Or your religion, you jump right in To the great American melting pot. The great American melting pot. Ooh, what a stew, red, white, and blue.
me and chad...it's love. the monkey kind. muches and mores, bunches and crunches. we're gonna make it ;-) ♥5/13/05♥ ♥7/16/10♥
Today is Chad and my 4th wedding anniversary. To celebrate, a photo retrospective of not only the last 4 years, but from the beginning of this crazy journey with my monkey boy. The Early Years 2005-2009
Engaged 2009-2010
Our Wedding 7/16/2010
Honeymoon in Mexico & California 2010
Married Life 2010-2013
Life as a Family of Three 2013-.....
4 years. Doesn't seem like much when compared to the 9 years we've known each other/been together. But certainly a hell of a lot more than anyone ever expected when we first started dating.
We don't really go together...like at all. Outside of the Sci-Fi/Fantasy genre, we don't really share a ton of common interests. We have different friends, different tastes in music, different ideas about what constitutes an acceptable temperature to keep our home or whether or not it's important to watch the pre/post game Tigers coverage...but somehow we make it work.
It's cliche, but I think we really do complete each other. We fill in each other's gaps. We work together, we talk, we play, we joke, we each wake up every day and make the choice to love the other. He's infuriating sometimes, but he's my best friend and I love the little family we made together. I'm so excited for the next 4, 40, 400 years.
your arms are my castle, your heart is my sky. you wipe away tears that i've cried. the good and the bad times, we've been through them all. you make me rise when i fall. 'cuz every time we touch, i get this feeling...everytime we kiss i swear i can fly...can't you feel my heart beat fast? i want this to last. need you by my side. everytime we touch, i feel the static...everytime we kiss i reach for the sky...can't you feel my heart beat so, i can't let you go. want you in my life.
Since downloading the Timehop app on my phone a few weeks ago, I've been having so much fun reminiscing about what I was doing on this day 1, 2, 3, 4....8, 9, 10 years ago (because I've had facebook for almost 10 years now - yes, I'm one of those...).
So for example, 2 years ago today I discovered Pinterest. I wasted more than 4 hours browsing pins that first day.
3 years ago today, I found a picture of a cake decorated with darth vader riding a my little pony over a rainbow. That won the internet that day.
But the best timehop I got today was from 5 years ago. When I discovered AVPM - A Very Potter Musical (which at the time was still called Harry Potter the Musical), and 3 hours later when I was officially obsessed.
If you're a fan of Harry Potter and you have not yet discovered Team Starkid's excellent musical theatre, you are doing yourself a disservice. AVPM became so massively popular that it spurned AVPS - A Very Potter Sequel, and AVPSY - A Very Potter Senior Year (guest starring Evanna Lynch as Luna Lovegood).
I could watch these shows over and over and over again. I constantly listen to the soundtracks. I make random references to it in my everyday life. I fell in love with Darrin Criss before he was on Glee. I went to their SPACE tour concert. I'm a geek. I admit it. But watch this and tell me it's not the best thing you've ever seen, ever...
So thanks, Timehop, for this wonderful trip down Starkid memory lane. And now I'm off to listen to the soundtracks. Again.
I came into work this morning, ready to write a post about road rage - still hot from an encounter on my drive to work. Then I realized what day today was and decided to save road rage for another time.
Today is June 5th. Not a particularly special day to most (unless you're keen on celebrating National Gingerbread Day), but a significant one for me. One year ago today, my beautiful grandma left this earth.
Katherine "Kay" Kloss
August 4, 1925 - June 5, 2013
She had been sick for a long time and we were expecting it, but it didn't make it any less painful when it happened.
Grandma was a tiny Sicilian woman with a huge heart. A heart full of love for her family. She was the epitome of a matriarch.
When I say she was tiny, I'm not kidding either. As I was growing up, she would keep pushing my shoulders down to keep me from getting taller than her. No luck, Grandma. As I got taller, she seemed to get shorter - all of her grandkids had outgrown her by the time we were about 10 years old :-)
I loved staying with her when my parents went out of time, or just for a night because I wanted to. Eating soup out of those little blue bowls, pickles sliced in half, cucumbers cut into tiny spears with salt, no ice...ever, peeled apples, the brown chair, easter egg hunts and egg conking, christmas pinatas and oplatek, licorice - a lot of food memories, but I suppose that's to be expected in an Italian household :-)
I will always cherish this photo. It's not only the obligatory 4-generation picture, but it's the day she got to meet her first and only great-grandson. She was so proud - she held onto him from the moment we walked in the door until we left. No one was allowed to take her baby that day, and that was ok with us. I wish Miles had gotten to know her as I did, but I'm so glad that she got to meet him.
She was so excited for his arrival. After we heard the heart beat for the first time and felt 'safe' to go public with our news, she was the first person I called. Each time we talked during those 9 months, she asked all about the baby and the pregnancy - how are you feeling? have you felt any kicks? when's your due date? Her memory wasn't the best at this point, but this was one thing she didn't forget. She didn't get out much, but she made the trip to my baby shower.
She had a wall of pictures of all her grandkids, but when Miles came along, those pictures all got covered with pictures of him. During her last stay at the hospital, I made sure her room had his newest pictures hanging on the wall. She only met him once, but he certainly made an impression on her heart.
I love you Grandma. I miss you so much, but I know you and Grandpa are with me (and Miles) everyday.
I'm having one of those days...you know what I'm talking about. The kind of day that you're just in a funk and not much can help. The kind of day where you're on the verge of tears for reasons you can't really explain. Today is one of those days. The gloomy weather outside reflects my mood. I can't tell you how much I want to go home and just hug my little guy, because I know he'll make my heart feel better.
Today is one of those days because it's just full of sad, sad news. It started as soon as I woke up and checked facebook. 2 of my favorite high school teachers have been let go after nearly 20 years of service to the school. It's deplorable really. They were (are) two of the best teachers I've ever had, and I know among all alumni who knew them, the feeling is mutual. They taught at Ladywood High School, an all-girls Catholic school in Michigan. I only attended Ladywood during my freshman and sophomore years. I don't have too many fond memories of my time there. But my classes with "Ms. J" - Mrs Juanita Moore-Jefferies and Mr. Bob Bartone are among the good ones.
I only had 1, 1/2 year class with Mr. Bartone - Contemporary American History. The class was good because the content was interesting - WWI to the present. But the class was awesome because Mr. Bartone was the teacher. He was this perpetually grumpy, beatles & pink floyd-loving, "damn the man", vietnam vet. I remember this great lecture he did about Nixon swearing a lot and how the papers had to continuously insert the phrase "expletive deleted" into their quotes. He had an orange construction barrel wearing a fez, just hanging out in the classroom. He kept a Moon Pie tacked to the chalkboard. He made the class interesting because he lived it and he shared his own stories. We listened to Sgt. Pepper while taking our tests. Honestly, one of the best classroom experiences I've ever had.
Ms. J was...I don't know what else to say but Ms. J was an angel. Fitting, because she was the director of the Angelic Chorale. People who couldn't sing a note took choir because they wanted a class with Ms. J. After I left, she also took over the orchestra. She loved music and she loved to help us make the best music we could. It was a catholic school, so we sang a lot of hymns, but we got to sing them Sister Act style. When I started choir at Ladywood, I loved singing. I was ok - I had done choir in elementary and middle school and at church. I had gotten solos and cantored. But my teachers and directors always had the same direction for me - I had to sing out. I was this meek, shy little singer who didn't know how to use my chest voice or project my head voice. Enter Ms. J. She got it out of me. She found my voice. She re-enforced my love for singing because she made me better. And she didn't just help the girls who already knew how to sing. I remember a senior during my freshman year, who got almost every solo, was the lead in the musicals, was just this awesome, awesome singer. I wanted to be her. Then she dropped the bomb. When she joined choir her freshman year, she was completely tone deaf. Couldn't sing a note. Ms. J taught her how to sing and gave her such a beautiful gift. And she wasn't just a great teacher. She was a great person. She loved all of us as if we were her own children. Many students looked at her like another Mother.
The love and respect that their former students have for these two teachers is more than apparent today on facebook. Posts on their walls, posts tagging them telling them what inspirations they've been, calls to action for alumni. I hope they both know what an impact they've made on so many lives. How lucky we've all been to have had them as teachers. Thinking about them makes me happy, thinking of the future Ladywood students who won't get the same experience makes me really angry. I hope those Felicians knew what they were getting into when they made this decision...
Then of course later this morning, the news broke that Dr. Maya Angelou had died. What a loss for the whole world. I have always heard about her and her writings and her life, but I've never actually read much of it myself. I will say with absolute certainty that after today, I am buying and reading her book I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings immediately. I have been immersing myself in her poetry and quotes today and am feeling terrible that I didn't do this sooner. What a smart, beautiful, profound, inspiring woman - someone we can all look up to and admire. Rest In Peace, Phenomenal Woman.
The other day Chad posted a vague statement on his G+"Everybody knows 'don't touch the lava'"! At the time, I had no idea what he was talking about. I thought it was some movie or tv reference that I didn't understand. It wasn't until he mentioned at dinner that I understood. He was referring to a childhood game we all played - Don't Touch the Lava. Think about it - you did, didn't you?
He made a good point - it was one of those games that you thought you made up on your own, but yet everyone you know played it too.
In our family it was called Lava Monster. We played it in my grandma's basement. The floor was the lava (but it didn't kill you...strange) and the couches were "safe". One person was the Lava Monster and their goal was to stop you from moving from one end of the basement to the other. If you used the floor (lava) to travel, you were fair game, but if you hopped from couch to couch, they couldn't touch you. I guess, essentially, it was tag for a small, confined space.
I played a similar game in elementary school gym - Spiders and Flies. The flies had to run from one end of the gym to the other without getting tagged by the spiders. We are the spiders. We are the flies. We're going to get you. Let's see you try!Wow. I can't believe I just remembered that, since the last time I played it was 1995....
Anyway, back to lava monster - Did you play some variation of Don't Touch The Lava? What were your rules?
Thinking back to it also makes me a little sad. Growing up, my cousins were my best friends. I had 12 cousins on my mom's side and 6 on my dad's. Miles will only have cousins if my sister has kids, and she lives in Tennessee, so they won't get to just hang out like we did with our cousins growing up. That makes me sad for him.
Sunshine, Mackenzie, Alissa, Elana, Andrea, Chad, Tara, Jacob, Samantha, Dominic, Ryan, Dylan, Jason, Joseph, Steven, Stefanie, Jackie, & Matt (and Caitlin who is not technically my cousin, but who is their cousin) - I love and miss you all so much.
And the new cousins that have joined us recently - Charles, Travis, Diana, Mike, Abbey, Cora, Avery, Bella, Joey, & Aidan (and soon-to-be baby Scanlon) - I love you like you were all my "real" cousins, too!
