tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50877651667679896792024-02-20T19:22:13.744-05:00Mere SustenanceA periodic journal of my thoughts and experiences fighting off the laziness of my middle class upbringing while trying to live within our means.Staceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770828759304862094noreply@blogger.comBlogger49125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087765166767989679.post-32147855340949786292011-02-08T13:10:00.000-05:002011-02-08T13:10:10.122-05:00Busy busyAs always we are busy busy. We had my father's birthday party this weekend and had 30 people over the house!!! We had a buffet dinner and we ended up with 6 cookie trays. Do these people not know that my jeans are already way too tight? That's okay, I am still very grateful for the cookies as I have brought them to work and now everyone is my friend. It also means that I have been eating cookies for breakfast, and as a dessert after lunch, and a snack after supper and they have also been making their way into our room before bed. This means that I have had to stray from my diet of potato chips right before bed, but that's okay. I'll get right on track once the cookies are gone. <br />
My father had a wonderful time at his party and we truly surprised him with everyone that we invited. I think I surprised everyone for that matter. Thank you dear Jesse for all of your sound advice. My husband is so very smart and not emotionally attached to anything which makes him one of the only rational and sensible people on the planet. He is also a wonderful party planner.<br />
My cousin came and I finally got to meet her two boys! She also brought her camera as she is a part time professional photographer and she got some wonderful shots of my dad and my children which I will add later. Fiona was so helpful as she gave all my cousins tours of our house including showing everyone all of our closets. She is so very glad to show everyone where we hide everything.<br />
The highlight for me was seeing my Aunt Viola, my mother's sister, whom I have not seen in over 10 years. She was a riot and even climbed up to the third floor (she is 81 or so) while Fiona gave her a tour. It made me miss my mother.<br />
Well, back to work. I have to grab a cookie before my lunch break is over.Staceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770828759304862094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087765166767989679.post-36344767062104765312011-02-04T00:18:00.000-05:002011-02-04T00:18:02.270-05:00TiredI am just plain tired. Tired of snow, winter, cold, driving, working, getting things wrong. not seeing the big picture, not noticing enough details. working. Okay so I said working twice. It is all that I am doing. Working. Working at letting things go. Working at building things up. Working at doing "Gods work". Working at doing my best at each moment I am alive. Working at keeping my awareness. Working at being a mother to 5 completely different individuals that need totally different things from me all at the same time. Working at being a supportive, loving wife and all around best friend. Working at typing and let's not forget really working on grammar.<br />
I tell myself breathe. I do. I breathe. It is a moment. And life is full of so many of them, thank goodness. But many, lately, are flying by at an amazing rate and I feel like I can't do any of it right. It's all half assed. I hate being a half ass but that is all I can do right now. I just hope it stops. Someday.<br />
Off to get 5.5 hours of interrupted sleep.<br />
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It's all good. I've got love. I've got many people to share my love with. I've got food and so do my loved ones. I've got shelter and so do my loved ones. I am fairly healthy (physically anyway, let's not talk about mentally) and so are my loved ones. We have food, Lots actually. Especially since Jesse went shopping for my father's party. There are even homemade chocolate chip cookies downstairs. What is wrong with that?<br />
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Let it go. Love what you got. Breathe.<br />
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Amen.Staceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770828759304862094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087765166767989679.post-89919562689099224472011-02-02T10:13:00.000-05:002011-02-02T10:13:06.440-05:00This winter has been insane with the amount of snow we have gotten. For the month of January, Connecticut got almost 4 feet of snow. That means I now hate snow. Well, I hate driving in snow. I have always hating driving in snow. Well, except for making donuts in the snow. <div>My normal commute takes me 45 minutes on a good day. Lately it takes me well over an hour to get to work and today I couldn't even get out of the city because the ice was building up on my windshield wiper blades and I had to keep stopping to clean them off. I figured that was okay in town, but not safe if I had to stop on the highway. </div><div><div>So I took the day off. However, the good catholic in me still feels the guilt. Like I am not doing my best or something??? Let it go girl. </div><div>We are going to be celebrating my father's 82nd birthday this weekend. We are having a party at my house and there should be about 30 people all together. I am very excited to finally have my family over. I really like my house. It's beautiful and wonderful and huge and really really pretty. The thing is, it feels more like home when the house is full of people. So I like having parties and inviting people over. I never knew it before because we didn't have room. Now we got LOTS of room. We have had lots of parties too. Now it is my turn to host. My family, from both my my mother and my fathers side and almost all my siblings. I haven't seen some of these people for many,many years. </div></div><div>It is interesting since most of my interactions with these people has been as a child. It is has been so long, that part of me still sees them from that child point of view, even though I am a 35 year old mother of 5. I was always referred to as the baby. I am the youngest of 5 and my parents were in their mid-forties when they had me. It was as if I was some sort of anomaly and the rest of my siblings were the normal family. There is a 9 year difference between my closest sibling and me, 20 years between my oldest sibling and me. I know there is something about birth order and how the gap of a few years between children can somewhat start the birth order over, but I am not quite sure how it would apply to me. My high school psychology teacher once referred to me as the "passionfruit" of my parents marriage. Perhaps.</div>Staceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770828759304862094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087765166767989679.post-21006055752553376732011-01-07T14:59:00.000-05:002011-01-07T14:59:24.782-05:00to begin againThe end of December 2010 I began to feel antsy. Bored and searching for something along the lines of a distraction or a little snack for my mind. That's when I found Babbles list of Top 50 Mom Blogs.<br />
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I have been missing hanging with other mothers. Most of the people I work with are not moms so there isn't anyone to share my most important experiences with. There is always my lovely husband, but we always share. I want unadulterated Mom talk. The kind that is honest, questioning, observant, and true of themselves. This Blog list is an avenue to it. I have only read portions of about 15 blogs, and I feel as if a door has opened up that I closed long ago. That maybe this struggle of love, growth, and sleeplessness is not just for our children's sake, but for the sake of our American society as a whole. Children growing up in families that encourage awareness of themselves and those around them. Not to keep them in constant doubt, but to keep them on the track of gratefulness and wonder. Seeing what really matters, the small stuff.<br />
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So here I am, back at my blog. Remebering to give voice to that Mother in me that I have been working on for the past 16 years and counting.<br />
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Thank you Babble.Staceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770828759304862094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087765166767989679.post-50283028034538178382010-02-04T12:57:00.000-05:002010-02-04T12:57:27.784-05:00Our newest family member<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcewoxZotudI4Egx_dOeIWYrr01msVxiT5b0Il6BH3n8B8aKhLwJFWseJXNloAKmO19GtDcua1H0uJ0YM6fWNiv5SP3MFdFGajBFijSChLXqTpAEA3hLRC1ROHJF0PNgcIKZhFbtV6jQ2r/s1600-h/023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcewoxZotudI4Egx_dOeIWYrr01msVxiT5b0Il6BH3n8B8aKhLwJFWseJXNloAKmO19GtDcua1H0uJ0YM6fWNiv5SP3MFdFGajBFijSChLXqTpAEA3hLRC1ROHJF0PNgcIKZhFbtV6jQ2r/s200/023.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>I'd like to introduce to you our newest family member. This is Bluebell, our new Dyson vacuum cleaner. She was asked to become part of our family because of the need for a performance vacuum cleaner, meaning one that actually sucks up particles on varying floor surfaces instead of just pushing them around. She cost a lot of money, over $400, and, yes it is just a vacuum cleaner. We look at it as something like the Lexus of vacuum cleaners.<br />
It has a 5 year warranty and a list of features that make cleaning up after 7 people and a rough collie, a lot easier. We have bought 4 vacuums in the past 9 year and all were very clumsy and didn't always perform up to par. The bag was constantly full, belts always needed replacing, and after every use, we had to dismantle it to clean off the rotating brush. Never mind the incident where the vacuum actually sucked a large clump of hair off of the head of my daughter! I have been eying a Dyson for some time now. Ever since I stayed home with 3 and then 4 children and had to vacuum every day so that little crawling babies wouldn't try and eat all the little things left on the floor from the days events. Not to mention, the dog hair! Yuck!<br />
Bluebell (my affectionate pet name- I feel like if I give her I nice name and treat her right, she will be kind to us and last a long time:)) has a canister to empty and filters that need cleaning on a monthly basis. However, this baby is very lightweight, so much so that the 5 year old can pick it up and can help with the vacuuming. It is also extremely easy to maneuver around anything and gets into the corners and nook and crannies that no other vacuum could. There is a wonderful extension wand for getting the stairs and all those other hard to reach places that is lightweight and very effective. It sucks up all the stuff our other vacuum never seemed to get. It is also small that it hides easily in our closet, which in our tiny house with only 2 closets, is a big selling point. There are 2 down sides other than the price tag- 1- emptying the container after every room and 2- the cord isn't as flexible as others I have used.<br />
So Welcome Bluebell! May you be with us for many many years to come! <br />
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</a></div>Staceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770828759304862094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087765166767989679.post-24151476649052366312010-01-15T07:01:00.000-05:002010-01-15T07:01:49.045-05:00The places I find myselfI don't know how it happens, but whenever I get a job, I usually find myself in a cubicle making lots of calls to people I don't know and leaving voice mails for potential sales opportunities. I don't particularly find it easy or fun, but for over 9 years on and off, this is what I end up doing as work. Mind you, it does pay the bills and, again, it is one of the only ways to make enough money for a family when you don't have any special talents or a degree of some sort. Still, it is amazing the limits that I put upon myself time and time again. Yes, I sit in traffic an average of 80 minutes a day. Yes, I sit on my butt all day and have gained a ton of weight and have now what you call the secretary butt. Yes, I wait for someone to tell me what tasks need to be done and then, like a good cube worker, efficiently finish the task. I find that most days I am asking myself, just like Michael Byrne from Talking Heads, "Well, how did I get here?". <br />
I am a somewhat educated woman with a good head on her shoulders and a very good (an ever improving) work ethic. What ever happened to my imagination? It is still the best way to play with my kids. Weather we are Care Bears in Care a Lot or Pirates in a flying ship, we always play pretend at home. What does it say of me, as a mother even, to encourage my kids and say you can do just about anything you want to do, yet here I am slogging away, gaining weight and searching for meaning in my work.<br />
I could blame my plain as mayonnaise on white bread upbringing. I could blame years of public schooling that sucked the creativity and life out of me. I could blame a society that encourages "cube working" from the rich on down. "You can't be a dancer, that doesn't make any money.Never mind the competition. You need money." So here I sit in my gray cube.<br />
Still, even if I wanted to do something else, I wouldn't know where to begin. I can't even tell you what exactly I would want to do, never mind what I do well. People seem to have these passions about things. Baking, fixing things, helping people, writing. <br />
When I think about it, the only thing I am at all passionate about it to do God's work and to do it whole heartedly. Whatever the Universe decides that it is. Perhaps that is what I am doing. But it sure gets boring!Staceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770828759304862094noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087765166767989679.post-65541408539006236732010-01-06T09:27:00.000-05:002010-01-06T09:27:04.137-05:00VitalThere are some things that this over emotional mother has learned I can't function well without.<br />
#1- Coffee The best legal over the counter drug that comes to me hot, sweet and creamy. In New England, there is no other way to wake up early in the morning and work when the weather is 0 degrees and the landscape is barren and gray. (Missing our North Carolina days now). It also helps me navigate the rocky mountains of my ever gushing emotions by never letting them get to the surface. Thoughts are racing and there is no time to get carried away with feelings when there is work to be done.<br />
#2- Chocolate- Nothing is as grounding and soothing as chocolate. Good chocolate- well medium good chocolate. We can't quite afford that great stuff, even the good stuff is expensive. But when you think of the savings from skipping breakfast and lunch, it isn't a problem! The chocolate I am currently enjoying, thanks to friends and family, are Lindt Truffles. Not those fruit filled ones, those are for my daughter. The chocolate filled ones are my vice at the moment. How do they make that creamy yet unspreadable stuff in the centers? There is a variety pack that contains, white chocolate, milk chocolate, dark chocolate, very dark chocolate and chocolate with peanut butter. One for every mood! Heaven in a bag. <br />
#3- The last thing on my list isn't a tangible object, but an experience I let myself have. A good cry. This doesn't have to be on a daily basis. However, I do notice that when life is full of, well, life, I get a back up of sorrow, sadness, grief, anger and helplessness (this girl knows her emotions). Once I let the gates open and the tears go, the waves flow through me and I can express all those painful emotions that I have been pushing around for a while. It is a selfish expression of my ego. Why me, why this, why that.....? It lets me give voice to the fears and anger of living a life without complete attachment to the things around me. After all, you can't take it with you and this form is only temporary.Staceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770828759304862094noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087765166767989679.post-81063203311830517152010-01-05T12:36:00.000-05:002010-01-05T12:36:40.298-05:005 monthsOur newest baby is already 5 months old. She has a nice chubby physique, smiles with a dimple, rolls over from back to belly, can reach and grab onto things, and interacts with you. You have to be careful when you hold her because she wants whatever you have in your hands, which makes it very difficult to drink a glass of water while holding her. <br />
It has been wonderful watching my husband fall in love with our baby. He loves all of our children, but when you stay home with an infant, you fall in love in a different way. Being home means you get to be present for all the little details of their growth and change. You start to understand what they want from the look in their eye or they noise they make. Getting to know someone that well, changes your perception on all your relationships. It somehow lets you give them more room to grow and more time to do it, because you really understand where they are and where they have come from. Well, it has for me and it seems to be the same for my husband as well. <br />
Whatever the case, I am so grateful to see their love, their closeness and level of communication when no words are involved. It's the small things that make life worth living.Staceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770828759304862094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087765166767989679.post-59119012947819588362009-12-31T12:47:00.001-05:002009-12-31T13:11:03.143-05:00Some days it snowsYou would think that by now, after living 33 years in Connecticut, I just might already know that some days it snows. I do know that it snows, but ever since we came back from North Carolina, I keep thinking that somehow it won't. Sure it snowed in North Carolina. Only once though. And it disappeared by morning. Which was nice :)<br />Now, everytime I read the news or listen to the radio, it seems like they are predicting snow. I don't remember it snowing like this <span style="font-style:italic;">before<span style="font-style:italic;"> we went to North Carolina.<br /><br /></span></span> Ugh.<br /> I am cold.<br /> I am cold when it isn't snowing! I pull out the wool socks around the end of October and don't stop wearing my thermals until May, at least. It also affects my mood and I become increasingly cranky. You would figure that this would be motivation enough to move to a warmer climate. But.....<br />my job is here,<br />my Dad is here,<br />the kids have friends here,<br />heck we even have friends here!<br />so that means we are staying here. <br />We have recently have started looking for a new place to live. Our little cottage in suburbia is not going to be available to us this spring, so we have begun the search for a new home. <br />At first we laughed with glee, grabbed the laptop and searched all over America for a home. Sure there are beautiful bungalows in New Orleans for 20,000 where you can live on the top floor only, because there is still so much damage from Hurricane Katrina, the bottom floors are uninhabitable. How about the winding hills of West Virgina with a 4 bedroom 3 bath home on 17 acres costs $90,000 with a town population of 200? Where do these people go to work?<br />Then we realized that we probably aren't going to pack up all or belongings and travel half way across the country to move to a state that we have never been to without a job with 5 KIDS! That would just be too much for our poor frail emotional selves to handle at this point. Just surviving here, right now in Connecticut is hard enough. <br />So, here we are, looking for a home in Bristol of all places. The trappings of love.<br /><br />On this last day of 2009, despite the snow and frigid temperatures, I want to officially thank the universe for all the blessings in my life. Health, Family, Love, Home, Food, Transportation that works, Friends and a good job. <br />And to all a happy new year!!Staceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770828759304862094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087765166767989679.post-22006490566501598862009-08-25T09:00:00.000-04:002009-09-06T16:28:17.025-04:00Jesse- The man of wonderThere is so much that I am blessed with and today I am focusing my thankfulness on my best friend, my husband, and the father of my children, Jesse. <br />I will never forget hanging up the phone after our very first conversation and something struck me. A knowing that I would marry the man I just had a 2 hour phone conversation with, sight unseen. It was an eerie feeling to get a piece of my future told to me. I was excited and scared, but I knew that it was true.<br />Here we are, after 15 years of marriage, now welcoming our 5th child into our lives and I am so very happy. It wasn't always this blissful. It took a LOT if work on both our parts to get to a place of selflessness, respect, and understanding to get our partnership to this point. I am so glad that we are together to share our journey in life. <br />He is intelligent, strong in principal, well spoken, funny, fun, silly, gorgeous, patient, loving, respectful, full of ideas, cataclysmic, constantly evolving, and struggling to remain open to what the universe has to offer. He is the one person I can share all the mess I have swarming in my head all the time and he helps me figure it out. He also lets me into his head and offers me advice. The look on his face when holding one of our babies is one of the most beautiful things that I have ever seen. <br /><br />Thank you oh great universe for providing me with such a wonderful partner in this lifetime.Staceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770828759304862094noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087765166767989679.post-41337455539791664052009-07-23T16:53:00.000-04:002009-07-23T16:54:16.569-04:00Simply living to live simplySomething that amazes me is how little we ever need for a new baby. Yes we will need diapers and yes we need clothing, but there isn't much else that we need. Diapers (cloth or disposable) are a given addition to our monthly expenses and clothing usually comes from Freecycle or tagsales since I always get rid of infant clothing once the babe has grown out of it. The things we need are patience, sleep, and a whole lotta faith! If we take things day by day or even moment by moment, it all ususally works out fine. <br />Our house is relatively small, around 1100 square feet with one bathroom. We have a ton of what we call dead storage space. What I mean by that is we have a 2 car garage with a loft, a basement and another basement type room that we call the "pool room" since the pool chemicals and such are stored there. This space isn't extremely useful to our every day living. While we store totes of clothing and linens in the basement and tools and outdoor toys in the garage, we can't store small kitchen appliances in the loft or basement or even shoes or jackets there because we need them within arms reach on a daily basis. Luckily, I am not a decorator and do not really care what my house looks like so Jesse has taken the liberty of putting shelving up on every wall and worked on our entry ways to make a small closet for our shoes in the side entrance and hooks for jackets and bags in the other. It isn't pretty or trendy, but it is definitely useful. That has been the key to living more simply for me. Not worrying how it looks so much as how it works. <br />Some people have asked, "Where are you going to fit another baby?". Well, our bedroom has 2 toddler beds, a queen sized air mattress, a crib and two dressers. This is the first time in 11 years we are using a crib too since we usually co-sleep. We have a tote on wheels under the crib for the clothing for the baby and there are totes under the toddler beds too. No- no closets in the room. <br />When I grew up I had my own very large room with a huge closet and a dresser. All for just little old me. And the closet and dresser were full of clothing. I never realized what a luxury it was when I had it. The way we live now, I could fit 2/3 of my family in that bedroom! <br />The thing is, it works for us. We have scaled back- a lot- especially for me from my stuff-filled middle class upbringing. It takes a lot of work, time, and creativity. But it has broadened my perspective of how things can work and helped me see what limits I was placing just for some idea of how something is supposed to look. We are all the better for it.Staceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770828759304862094noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087765166767989679.post-7417353080333962122009-07-15T16:02:00.000-04:002009-07-15T16:15:09.206-04:00HypnobabiesI have been having such a hard time this pregnancy trying to positively envision the cesarean birth. The last time I was up the whole night before doing breathing exercises to try and relax, only to just about make myself sick. <br /><br />This time I know what will happen and I have been very anxious about it. I posted about it on a few message boards and got a lot of support. Someone suggested the book Birthing from Within and while it is wonderful, it just wasn't working for me. Someone also suggested a Hypnobabies CD set call - <a href="http://www.hypnobabies.com/store/shop.php?pid=15&sid=4&cid=4&start=0">My Successful Cesarean Birth</a>. I just started them this week and it has helped me let go of so much fear already. It made me realize just how much tension I have been holding inside. I feel like I can finally breath deeply again and I am even starting to look forward to the birth that is less than two weeks away. That in itself has made it a good purchase. Let's see how it does for the birth!Staceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770828759304862094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087765166767989679.post-27492579132436812442009-04-06T06:50:00.001-04:002009-04-06T07:12:49.481-04:00Music TherapyOne of the benefits about working out of the house is that the I can listen to music while commuting to work.(With a house full of chatter, there is never time to actually listen and hear music I like) My commute is about 30-45 minutes to/from work, so that gives me time to listen to my prophets and let vibration dance through me inspiring me to cry, laugh, sing, or shake my shoulders. Yes, I am one of those crazy people that sings in their car!<br />Some bands have traveled along with me for many years now. They include<br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Indigo-Girls/dp/B00004Z3SW/ref=sr_1_6?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1239015350&sr=8-6">Indigo Girls</a>--Nothing beats starting my day with Closer to fine following it up with a little introspection with Loves Recovery.<br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Shadows-Collide-People-John-Frusciante/dp/B00018TI5E/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1239015424&sr=1-3">John Frusciante</a> This is a rediscovered love. <br /><a href="">Red Hot Chili Peppers</a> These guys keep growing on me in new ways<br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Light-Grenades-Incubus/dp/B000JBXXZ4/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1239015706&sr=1-1">Incubus</a>So much confusion that really works together with fantastic lyrics<br /><a href="">Tori Amos</a> My journey with what I think a woman should be<br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Earth-Wind-Fire-Greatest-Hits/dp/B00000FC5H/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1239015909&sr=1-1">Earth Wind and Fire</a> Inspiring and makes me want to choreograph!<br />And one song from that I particularly have been groving on lately is from <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Maggot-Brain-Funkadelic/dp/B000AXWV40/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=music&qid=1239015996&sr=1-1">Funkadelic</a> "Can You get to that".Staceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770828759304862094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087765166767989679.post-46966154885858191042009-03-02T21:47:00.000-05:002009-03-30T07:24:13.018-04:00Six months agoSix months ago we had just moved here from NC. We were all still tanned, things were green, the sun was still hot at times and we were still hopeful. I was still into wearing my dangling sequence earrings, brightly colored ribbed tank, skirt and flip flops. The kids spent most of the time outside and Jesse and I were trying to figure out what our next move was. <br />Back then, just that short time ago, my mother was still living, I wasn't pregnant, we were both home, catching up with old friends and learning about this neat old house we had come home to. I could feel the energy pumping through us and while we were definitely aware of bumps in the road ahead, we still felt that something good would taking place. <br />It has. Just not the way we thought. My mother has passed through this life and is on her way to the next, freeing the family she was part of to find our new places. I have gotten pregnant and now we are going to be blessed with another girl for the Gallagher clan. I have found a very interesting job, where, for the first time in my life, I am finally working like a responsible adult and not an uncommunicative whiny child.<br />Some things I just didn't expect to change were things like our social circle which has now become more of a social spot, the tan and vigor that seemed fixed has waned and I have been struggling with things like resentment and confusion. I sit in this city, this state full of people and feel as if perhaps we are just crazy after all. To think that we could treat everyone like family, with love, honesty, encouragement, and respect--to live with people that share these values and try like we do to do what is right and not just feed our egos-- and most importantly to get that openness back from friends, neighbors, acquaintances and live in an enriching circle. Feedback that is honest, that is open,so that I will take in and look at and try and see their point of view. So I can learn what about me is keeping me from living according to my proported values. I am not saying I would like to change and please everyone. I am saying that if I am doing something that is hurting, irritating, annoying or just plain bothering someone I am with, I want them to tell me. Perhaps there is more there that we can both learn from and both change. Isn't that the ideal of a relationship? <br />No it isn't easy. But neither is living a life of denial where you spend your day filling your mind with rationalizations so that you can feel like you are doing the right thing yet you are so filled with fear you aren't free to move or do anything new anymore. I have been there and I have done that. And I am not going back.Staceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770828759304862094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087765166767989679.post-8532730998974492052009-01-29T22:04:00.000-05:002009-01-29T22:05:33.425-05:00My mother has diedRena C. Dube, 78, of Bristol, wife of Edgard “Pete” Dube, passed away quietly at home on Jan. 23, 2009, after a long battle with cancer. Born Jan. 9, 1931, in Waterbury, she was a daughter of the late Albert and Almire (Charette) Violette. She attended St. Ann School and Wilby High School in Waterbury and worked at the Metropolitan before her marriage. Besides her husband, Rena is survived by her five children and their spouses, Sharon and Joel Templeton of Murrells Inlet, S.C., Lisa and David Anderson, Sandi and Glenn White, Stacey and Jesse Gallagher, who are all from Bristol, and Brian and Carol Dube of Wolcott; nine grandchildren, Brett and Todd Anderson, Amber and Cory White, Simone Dube and Athena, Huckleberry, Fiona and Shillelagh Gallagher; her sister, Viola Lamontagne of North Port, Fla., and her brother, Roger Violette of Murfreesboro, Tenn. A memorial Mass will be held Saturday, Jan. 31, 2009, 10 a.m., at St. Gregory Church, Bristol. Burial will follow in St. Joseph Cemetery. There are no calling hours. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to the Connecticut VNA Partners Hospice Program, 111 Founders Plaza — Second Floor, East Hartford, CT 06108. If friends wish, they may leave a condolence message for the family at<br /><br />www.dupontfuneralhome.comStaceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770828759304862094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087765166767989679.post-10367069164997636902009-01-18T20:05:00.000-05:002009-01-18T20:19:04.492-05:00Just a ventIt feels like it has been years since I had a decent nights sleep. I don't care what all those attachment parenting advocates say, I haven't slept soundly since I was pregnant with Fiona, over 4 years ago. She has moved on to a toddler bed (in our room) and Shillelagh is still an active night nurser. It is so much work, but most days, I wouldn't want it any other way. It's that snuggle time that makes me feel like I am still connected to them, some how.<br />Lately, it has been even harder with my mother being sick. She has gotten into the "final phase" of the disease. She is a small sack of skin and bones, unable to move on her own or even speak. My dad has called us twice in the past week because he thought she wasn't going to make it. I have been visiting on a daily basis now which severely cuts into the time with the kids and Jesse. They have been very supportive, but it is still so much work for everyone. It is toughest for the littlest ones.<br />When I get home at night, I am just plain exhausted. It is all compounded by the constant nausea I am fighting with this new pregnancy and the absolute frigid temperatures, which makes me so uncomfortable. I keep trying to think back on all of what I have already gone through and remember how far I have come. But when I am falling asleep sitting up on the couch while the little ones are running and playing, the older kids are doing chores, and Jesse is catching up on some emails, I feel like I just don't know how much longer I can keep all of this going. <br />God give me strength.Staceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770828759304862094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087765166767989679.post-17779365903475034072008-12-05T10:30:00.000-05:002008-12-05T10:56:14.720-05:00The shoplifterIt has happened. Shillelagh is officially a thief. A very cute, cunning and well, adorable thief. Technically she is a minor, an extremely minor minor, but she is still a thief!<br /><br />It all started out like a normal grocery shopping trip. We went to our favorite local store where Fiona loves to hang around in the special play area and Shillelagh can ride in the car portion of the cart. I followed my list, the older kids fetched items and grabbed an occasional cookie for the babe in the car. We finished loading the cart to just about toppling over and I forcefully positioned my doublewide into the checkout line. While Athena unloaded, Huckleberry looked at the movies, I was double checking my list and coupons, and Shillelagh was playing. She was playing with...... the candy! Yes, the candy in the candy rack! It looked exactly like she was in the drive through at a candy store. Loading up precious amounts of Snickers and Hershey bars into the cart. I immediately stopped the grabbing of the noisy and handy candy. I even had Shillelagh help me put it all back in the right boxes. What a good girl.<br /><br />I pushed the cart down to the end of the checkout and watched the cashier ringing up the goods, making sure prices were correct. Fortunately we had a skilled bagger! He even put all the same types of food into the same bags! As he piled all of our foodstuffs into a neat mound, I thanked both workers and proceeded to head out towards the play area to pick up Fiona. At that point I realized that our youngest was extremely quiet and not hanging out of the car as she likes to do. Being that I couldn't see her because of the mound of groceries, I asked Athena to check on her. Well, I knew by her expression that something had gone wrong. Very wrong. Her hand was covering her mouth and her eyes were wide in a look of horror. <br />"What is it?", I asked.<br />"Um....Mom? Shillelagh has a push pop!", she replied, smothering a laugh.<br />I went over to her and saw for myself, Shillelagh indeed had a push-pop. She had managed somehow to get her hands on the pop, unwrap the plastic (which I always seem to need scissors for), unscrew the top and push the pop out and stick it in her mouth. Her cheeks and hands were covered in sticky pop goo and she was so very quite and innocent looking. I had to smother my laugh.<br />I decided not to say anything and we went and picked up Fiona. But, Fiona had to ask, "Where did Shillelagh get that?". <br />"It's a long story," I replied, hoping to hold off telling her about the criminal mastermind that she knew as her little sister.Staceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770828759304862094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087765166767989679.post-53412983543167637592008-11-19T15:24:00.000-05:002008-11-19T15:53:23.427-05:00My dying motherMy mother is extremely sick and has been so for over a year now. It started right before we left for North Carolina and when we left we knew that it might be the last time we saw here. But luckily she has survived longer than the doctors anticipated and since we came back I visit on a weekly basis. <br /><br />The funny thing is that I would like to go more, but there isn't much to talk about and she doesn't want me to do anything when I am there, although I do offer. Perhaps I should go and just watch the TV Food network with her. Watching television was one of the only things we did together. Okay I am wrong, we did do a lot of shopping. In the summer when I was home from school, I was lucky enough to go out with her on her weekly errands. My mother was (and still is)a thrifty shoppper. As a family of 7 on one income, she had to be. She would check all of the grocery stores in the area for their loss leader sales and stock up. She also stopped in weekly to Bradlees and Caldors and other medium box chain stores for good deals on things like clothing and housewares. I would usually tag along, annoying her in some way or another. Be it going to the bathroom at every store we stopped at or accidentally spraying myself in the eye with perfume. Sometimes I would even con her into buying me something. I think she would buy it just to shut me up from all my whining. I owe all my good shopping skills to her.<br /><br />I can't take her shopping since she has so much trouble moving around at all. She hasn't left the house in months. While her body is now emaciated and hunched, and she looks to have aged 15 years, she still doesn't really talk much. I am sure that she is in tons of pain. She has pain medication patches on her body and she takes the occasional pill if she feels she needs to. She feels free to answer all questions about her condition, rather matter-of-factly. It is something she has come to accept. My father is with her and takes care of her every need which means helping her do everything from getting out of bed, to dressing, to eating, to going to the bathroom etc..He is such a good man and it is beautiful to see him joyfully and lovingly take care of her. <br /><br />I miss her. I miss her bustling around the kitchen so eager to take care of everyone. I miss seeing her do her search a word puzzles with her reading glasses at the end of her nose while she sits in her rocking chair. I miss her wise crack corny jokes. I remember her telling me of a time when her and my father we first married. She loved jokes, so she slyly filled the insides of my fathers shoes with shaving cream. She said "You should have seen his face when he put them on!". And Jesse thinks that I am trouble? I miss her baking. She baked some delicious treat at least once a week for as long as I can remember. Cookies, bars, cakes, any good recipe she found in her magazines was tried. Now I am passing on the tradition to my kids. Just this week, Huckleberry, Fiona and I made huge cookies that we decorated with frosting and leftover Halloween candy. Thanks mom.Staceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770828759304862094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087765166767989679.post-35366388831264535572008-11-18T10:40:00.000-05:002008-11-18T10:45:22.441-05:00Little Bear<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiR00VEqkkYuJXTPAM_WIAib7yCdwodsF8bQEy3iFW_8bunu5mvJo6ArbXff0aPGLgW7Xaix6sDiJVd_arL8wzEL3RN9koyTkC9Bb33PtCrUt0lAoatCIbZ41kQzjxbpLHNfMejUXM0pbt/s1600-h/pho368x157littlebear.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 137px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiR00VEqkkYuJXTPAM_WIAib7yCdwodsF8bQEy3iFW_8bunu5mvJo6ArbXff0aPGLgW7Xaix6sDiJVd_arL8wzEL3RN9koyTkC9Bb33PtCrUt0lAoatCIbZ41kQzjxbpLHNfMejUXM0pbt/s320/pho368x157littlebear.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270024138022702322" /></a><br />Let me just say that I love Maurice Sendak's Little Bear. The story books are simple and sweet. But the shows and movies are so very comforting. The cast of characters is wonderful, full of innocence, curiosity and respect. Sometimes it is just plain fun. Sometimes when we have had a bad day, I pop in one of the movies and we all snuggle down and smile while we watch. The stories and the music are so very comforting.Staceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770828759304862094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087765166767989679.post-55049041483074281002008-11-12T09:36:00.000-05:002008-11-12T11:07:34.783-05:00Myers- BriggsWe have had the "Do What You Are Book" by Paul Tieger and Barbara Barron-Teiger and have tried to use it as an oracle of sorts. Jesse and I have always had this family thing down. But making money has been a constant struggle. <br /><br />As a sales executive, I meet people everyday that run small business and they have always had a talent or like of a specific trade or service. Such as the mechanic I met down the street that has been working on cars since he was 16, or the restaurant owner that practically grew up in a restaurant. The closest thing that Jesse or I have to something like this is the bakery. Jesse has worked there since he was 16 and most of the work was full time and managing. The thing is there is no where to go there. The bakery owner isn't interested in selling and managing some of the people isn't enough to satisfy Jesse. <br /><br />Sales is an extremely hard job for me. I am such an emotional person that it is tough building up a thick skin to all of the rejection. But it has been good because when I first started selling, one rejection would push me over the edge into a crying depression. Now it only takes about 40 :) Also, I find the lack of relationship or trust, very unmotivating. Now, I am in a new industry and it will take time to build a trusting relationship with a business owner. But I am not making any sales so I don't know if I have the time. And third, I really miss working with a team of people. Working out of the house definitely has advantages. I can call customers in my pajamas, I can work when convenient to my schedule and I don't sit in traffic for hours. But I really miss hanging out with the others in the office, talking about our experiences and pumping each other up. One thing I really liked about my last job in sales support was learning about each account manager's sales ability and style, and working with them to find ways to help them reach their goals. <br /><br />This leads me to my next discovery that I am an ISFJ according to the Myers-Briggs test. <br /><span style="font-style:italic;">ISFJs have two basic traits which help define their best career direction: 1) they are extremely interested and in-tune with how other people are feeling, and 2) they enjoy creating structure and order, and are extremely good at it. Ideally, the ISFJ will choose a career in which they can use their exceptional people-observation skills to determine what people want or need, and then use their excellent organizational abilities to create a structured plan or environment for achieving what people want. Their excellent sense of space and function combined with their awareness of aesthetic quality also gives them quite special abilities in the more practical artistic endeavors, such as interior decorating and clothes design. </span><br /><br />The thing is, I was trying to change myself for this job, instead of using my abilities. I figured that since I wasn't making sales, my style was failing. And while that may be true, I really haven't explored what my style is. Reading about ISFJ has helped me clarify what it was exactly that I liked about the jobs I have had and what I don't like about the one I am in currently.Staceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770828759304862094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087765166767989679.post-28577995938196944722008-11-06T11:29:00.000-05:002008-11-06T12:02:54.482-05:00Rotten eggsMy latest self-project is working on my laziness. I am a spoiled brat to the core and understanding that fact has brought about great insights to my personality.<br /><br />I was the last of 5 children and came as a surprise to my middle class, 40-something parents. I'm not quite sure why or how, but they gave me lots of stuff that my older siblings never got. Piles of presents for holidays, tons of new clothes, freedom to go to public school instead of parochial school. There were situational benefits, like being able to have my own room at such a young age because my older sisters had moved out. The best way for me to get attention was to wine and pout; something that I still tend to do (my poor husband!). I never felt I needed to apply myself because I was well taken care of. Why should I work when everything I needed was already here? My parents said to not worry about money, just keep being good. So here I am at 33 hoping that being good is going to bring me some sort of reward. UgH! If only I could throw out that card of my playing deck.<br /><br />My parents were not always middle class. They were born right after the great depression and remember everyone having food stamps. They got jobs in their early teens to help out with the family, or babysat siblings so Mom could go to work, and went to parochial schools were all they spoke was French and Latin and the nuns would hit you with rulers if you didn't follow the rules. They understood what hard work meant and never let their emotions rule their actions (or at least from how the stories are told). <br /><br />But when you grow up spoiled, which seems to be easy to do these days, all you do is react to your surroundings however you want to without the worry of negative repercussion. What you need to survive is readily available. Food, fridge and cabinets full, a place to live, and people that care about you and want to give you those things and want you to be happy. Most of the time they give it to you, just to shut you up- as in my case. But I see it in my children as well. The ungratefulness. So how am I passing this ill fate on? <br /><br />My husband, on the other had, grew up in poverty with only a brother and an unstable mother. He remembers his mom bringing home a grocery bag full of brown rice one day and that is all they ate for weeks. He was constantly moving from apartment to apartment, from state to state until the age of 7 when he went to live with his grandparents. He started making his own money early with a paper route. In high school, he sold sodas out of a cooler in the band room, and worked almost full time at a bakery. While I sat on my fat ass and tooled around at a dumpy discount clothing store at minimum wage and no desire for anything more. Lazy.<br /><br />Fast forward 18 years and here I am sitting at a desk in my home office, fighting the lazy thoughts of "why bother". "Why would I want to do all that work anyway?". It is as if I keep waiting for something to happen so that I don't have to do work. Ya know, the stuff that needs to get done but you don't want to do it. <br /><br />The situation has changed, I have changed. Yet, these thoughts still force themselves into my tiny little brain and sabotage all my motivation.Staceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770828759304862094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087765166767989679.post-48018178196301618412008-11-03T13:50:00.001-05:002008-11-03T14:10:33.197-05:00ConnecticutWe are back in New England and have been since September 1st. Everything is still so very up in the air. I guess that is the way our life is. Always wondering if what we are doing is the "right" thing for us as a family. Somehow managing to keep a float financially, although usually to my surprise. <br /><br />The ride back from North Carolina was one of the most stressful experiences in my life. This from a woman that has had four births! I thought I had planned it well enough, the same old route up I95 that everyone always told us not to take. "There is always so much traffic." "It is just so stressful with all those big trucks." "It took forever just to get across the George Washington Bridge."<br /><br />Well, all I have to say is YES, they were right in every respect. Of course, it was Labor Day weekend, so we saw so many many cars from just about everywhere. It really was amazing how many people we saw. <br /><br />The the thing that really pushed me over the edge, (well besides the 21 month old, the 3.5 year old and the 13 year old in the car with me and for some reason we couldn't get the adapter for the laptop to work right so they couldn't watch movies), was Jesse and Huckleberry following directly behind me in a huge 24' long Budget truck with our Buick on a dolly. Now, it was Jesse's idea to take this route instead of the scenic route that we took down. He was hoping with all of his might that it would be quicker, at least somewhat. But how fast can you go with a truck that large, filled to the brim with furniture and such, with a car on a dolly? At most, 70 miles per hour, and only if you are going downhill and your wife driving in front of you isn't going slower because she doesn't notice it is a hill and she is busy trying to keep kids occupied and stop them from yelling and crying. UGH....Just thinking of it is making my palms sweat. <br /><br />It took us 16 hours. Yes, we are friggin crazy.<br /><br />But the nice part is that we are home. Well, sort of. We are living IN a home. A nice house with 3 bedrooms, a 2 car garage, a nice driveway, a huge yard and even an inground pool! We are even back in our hometown where we know all of the stores and a lot of the people. The awesome libraries (yes there are 2!!) where everyone knows our family. Our old homeschool community that is full of good old friends. We have even gotten to see my dying mother which is amazing because we didn't think she would necessarily make it this long.<br /><br />I have to tell you though....it just doesn't feel right. Perhaps it is just the time of year. Perhaps it is the time of man. But, it just feels....heartless. There is no thump thump. My blood has gone cold and we are wondering where we went wrong.<br /><br />Should we have stayed in North Carolina? It is just because of the up coming election? What are we trying to do anyway>?<br /><br />Good question.Staceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770828759304862094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087765166767989679.post-78615287170451708302008-08-23T12:19:00.000-04:002008-08-23T12:46:59.429-04:00CacophonyBeing a mother of four has produced a variety of experiences that I have never had before so I have needed to expand my vocabulary in order to describe them. Here is the latest.<br /><br />Cacophony- noun-loud confusing disagreeable sounds <br /><br />This can easily be produced on a beautiful Saturday morning at the local farmers market. It starts out nice and quite with Shillelagh in the sling, Fiona holding my hand, and Athena walking alongside holding the bag. We casually stroll through and view all the wonderful goods for sale and stop for a few moments to enjoy the live music. We stop and pick a few good looking eggplant and also find some lovely cherry tomatoes. Shillelagh decides that since cherry tomatoes are her absolute favorite food, she must twist and lean out of the sling to reach them almost knocking the entire container out of my hand. At that point Jesse and Huckleberry arrive. (This many kids means we take 2 cars) Shillelagh is kicking and crying to get more tomatoes for herself, unhappy with the speed that I am trying to shove them in her face. So, Jesse offers to take Shillelagh and I take her out of the sling to hand her over. BUT, she then grabs my index finger and proceeds to pull very hard saying "Pull, pull!!!" meaning she wants me to go with her. So I follow the child that has a death grip on my finger while the entire family follows behind closely, all seeming to talk to me and each other at the same time. <br /><br />We make our way over to the candy store, which, by the way, is the main reason the kids wanted to come. We all pass the store and while Shillelagh has taken notice of a teddy bear in the store window, I get a chance to ask why they aren't going to get the candy they are so anxious for. That is when we become a cacophony. The older kids immediately start to argue while Jesse is trying to talk to me and Fiona is in her continuous 3 year old ramble, while Shillelagh has again decided to move along immediately with her death grip on my finger and our entire group is blocking the sidewalk so that no one can pass by. <br /><br />So you may ask, why are we here, in this evil mix of chaos and pleasure? We thought that perhaps we could all get along for more than 5 minutes to enjoy our last Saturday at the Farmers Market. Stroll, enjoy some free samples, great live music, and pick up some candy as a special treat. But you just can't do these things with 4 kids. It is physically impossible because your brain is fried before you even think about why you are there in the first place.<br /><br />The big kids went into the candy store, Jesse sat to talk with Fiona and answer some of her questions, while I struggled with Shillelagh, trying to keep her from running into the street. In the end I think we stayed for a total of 15 minutes. The last 5 minutes of which I was in the car with Shillelagh feeding her tomatoes while she was buckled into a car seat. To top it all off, the gang strolls over to the car after their jaunt to the candy store and Huckleberry and Fiona both step into an enormously soft pile of doggy doo doo. It was so large that Fiona had a huge chuck on the toe of her sparkly pink princess shoe. Thank goodness she didn't try to get into the car!<br /><br />We are home and exhausted and don't plan on leaving the house with children until the move next Sunday. And perhaps not even that soon!Staceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770828759304862094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087765166767989679.post-32710616204711920042008-08-20T07:12:00.000-04:002008-08-20T07:42:02.376-04:00Grandmother<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYx_L7lSsAoZaQyaMm-MnpJz9aP-aS_-fNQnfdejy5-vBzRjLGO2AFWg2lxhpgnk5tJ8ITsvocMjsgOA79U4bsmsEwkQQnlvZu0dIcLxXYalOvsetLKXxcaQg-bvOaNEDcWqXwoNJsKN3L/s1600-h/0626081923.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYx_L7lSsAoZaQyaMm-MnpJz9aP-aS_-fNQnfdejy5-vBzRjLGO2AFWg2lxhpgnk5tJ8ITsvocMjsgOA79U4bsmsEwkQQnlvZu0dIcLxXYalOvsetLKXxcaQg-bvOaNEDcWqXwoNJsKN3L/s320/0626081923.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236561236427958450" /></a><br /><br />Jesse and I decided to take Shillelagh out to Target the other day. She had tons of fun playing with all the different sorts of balls in the toy department as well as running through the clothing section! We had finally gotten her back into the cart and decided it was time to check out. While we were in line she decided that she wasn't going to be patient and started fussing and straining against the belt. So, instead of letting her get into a fit, I decided to start playing some hand games with her. We started out with the classic Patty-cake which she absolutely adores. (And is quite adorable herself while she is clapping and singing along :)) <br />When it was our turn, the cashier said, (specifically now, this is her word for word)..."It's asking for your date of birth." Now being the semi-intelligent person I am, I realized that while she didn't actually acknowledge my existence with a "Hello" she was speaking to me and although I probably look old enough to purchase the beer she scanned, the register won't move along unless she types in a birthdate. So, I give her the date and continued my game with my lovely little toddler which had progressed into the Itsy Bitsy Spider. <br />The cashier then says to me, " Grandmother?".<br />Now, I wasn't quite sure if she was talking to me or not. Perhaps she just remembered something that made her blurt out the word Grandmother. Perhaps she is a grandmother and wanted to share in her pride. Perhaps she thought that their should be a grandmother in the Itsy Bitsy Spider. <br />I stared at her with a questioning look while these thoughts spun around my head. Sort of like a dog will look at you when you are calling it's name and has no idea what you are trying to communicate. <br />She then says, "Oh, I'm sorry, it's just that usually when their young only the grandmother has time for silly games. You usually don't have time for that when they are young."<br />Now, that seems like a logical train of thought, sort of. But I had just given her my birthdate which makes me 33. While it is possible that I had a child at sixteen and then my child had a child at 16, it is highly unlikely. And then again, do I look like a grandmother????<br /><br />So while I stood there dumbfounded and searching for reason, Jesse comes to the rescue with "Yes, we like to play silly games. We think it is a lot of fun. We don't mind being silly at all."<br /><br />So I have officially been grandmothered! Now, I really don't have a problem with getting older. Actually, I like being in my 30's. There is a sense of accomplishment and I don't have so many silly and petty thoughts running through my head. But I hadn't realize that I could be considered a grandmother to some. It always amazes me how other people see things and how their standards for judgment, like this cashiers' judgment for what a grandmother is and does, is so very very different from mine. I truly appreciated the enlightenment she gave me that came from her assumption. <br /><br />Jesse also so lovingly put it, "You are the sexiest grandmother I know!!:)"<br /><br />What a sweet and endearing husband!Staceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770828759304862094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5087765166767989679.post-29853584561528304032008-08-15T21:31:00.000-04:002008-08-16T07:19:49.765-04:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5iyuYh_zHg_wTPxTsSabY87u7qpW96xOXdqN1OsgdYWErod6vc3GLoUBuOAdFRYDaE6DIJj6zSIzrPIGcqdpCiYB9tw3_IaPCTLiqVk0IxzE76ZDFIMbEgI4kw81kgshzJLE9Aya93-YQ/s1600-h/cemetery2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5iyuYh_zHg_wTPxTsSabY87u7qpW96xOXdqN1OsgdYWErod6vc3GLoUBuOAdFRYDaE6DIJj6zSIzrPIGcqdpCiYB9tw3_IaPCTLiqVk0IxzE76ZDFIMbEgI4kw81kgshzJLE9Aya93-YQ/s320/cemetery2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234926775251323042" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiaJSpObPSk3CwKPipW1atiwcFoQMpT10KHNJZwf7gwUzx78rLaLKMmoPtE-ET0WDVdDLlnvhoQLyQlI-REtXl5YfOuzawPpPP9Py6sJPa2o7pKcJPQj9Ygw3aGV4EePS9tBkw4iQ2jGsY/s1600-h/cemetery.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiaJSpObPSk3CwKPipW1atiwcFoQMpT10KHNJZwf7gwUzx78rLaLKMmoPtE-ET0WDVdDLlnvhoQLyQlI-REtXl5YfOuzawPpPP9Py6sJPa2o7pKcJPQj9Ygw3aGV4EePS9tBkw4iQ2jGsY/s320/cemetery.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234922442475838898" border="0" /><span style="font-family: arial;font-size:100%;" > </span></a><br /></div><br /><br />Jesse and I started walking together in the mornings. Good, long walks that are keeping us in shape physically and helping us mentally as well. We have always been talkers and the only way the two of us can have a decent conversation is by leaving the house without any children :) Thank goodness that Athena and Huckleberry are so very capable of taking care of their little sisters. Perhaps they see how much the walks are keeping us sane!<br /><br />We found a Green way a neighborhood or two over that must run a couple of miles long. It is a paved path that follows the electricity lines from Falls Of Neuse just about all the way to the New Falls of Neuse. We have been walking it for a couple of days now, even brought the girls in the double stroller while Huckleberry rode his bike yesterday. Today though, I happened to notice the graveyard in the above picture. It is undeniably old with some of the stones dating back to 1790. There is even information there about the cemetery and how it is the descendants of the original white families that settled in the area. <br /><br />The strange part is that this cemetery is hidden behind the long line of shrubbery that lines the road nearby. Never mind the enormous electrical lines and support structures. A hidden cemetery is a strange find among this large rolling neighborhoods of organized classist communities. Perhaps they don't really want anyone to remember who came here before.Staceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17770828759304862094noreply@blogger.com0