how do they ever get anywhere?

The kids are home safe and sound and on to their next trips. I hope these trips are much better than the one we all took Friday home St. Louis.

On Friday Monte, Whitney, Lucy and I met Laef and Allison at 10:40 PM at the East Terminal. We hugged and kissed and laughed as we retrieved bags. We found the car right away in the parking garage and looking back that should have been a clue. We took off with Whitney in the co-pilots’s seat and me in the backseat. I should have reminded Whitney that it takes two of us to drive anywhere and that she would have to work to ride in the shotgun seat, but I was just happy to have my babies with me.

We were all talking at once and no one was paying any attention to where we were or where we were headed. We didn’t have Mr. Beep, (our GPS) on because St. Louis isn’t downloaded. Yes, I know the new ones have all the maps already loaded on them. Ours is old.

Monte saw a sign for I-70 and took it. Whitney didn't know she should check to see if it was I-70 East or West. In the first lull in our conversation, I looked out the window and said, "I’ve never seen that building before." Monte said, "It’s just dark out." And so we drove on.

In another couple of miles we come upon a red wall of tail lights. And for the next 45 minutes it was stop and go traffic. Which Monte hates and grumbles about anytime he encounters it. It was a hassle but we were all together and anytime we are all together I’m pretty content with whatever is going on around us and besides I’m not in the co-pilot seat. We continue on our slow way with Monte grumbling about traffic and Laef quipping that he feels like he’s at home on the 405. Laef checks for road conditions on his blackberry and informs us "There’s been an accident on 70 East and it’s closed." We still don't put two and two together. Someone remarks that it must be a bad wreck because the people on 70 West, which we think we are on, are really slowing down to look.

And so we creep on. Finally we come to where the road is closed and exit onto a side road. Once we are off the interstate, Monte looks at the compass on the rearview mirror and notices that we are headed east. East will take us downtown. We don’t want to go downtown. Of course, he doesn’t think we’ve been on 70 East because he knows we have to go west to get home and so the signs must be wrong. Or they weren’t there. Or who knows what he thinks when he gets behind the wheel.

So we all start to pay attention and find I-70 west and finally head home. The good thing is because of the wreck we have only gone 4 miles in 45 minutes and it doesn’t take long to regain our lost miles. But our 2 ½ hour trip is now a 4 hour trip.

Laef and Whitney are amazed that we ever manage to get anywhere. Monte and I are thinking it’s no big deal. We spend about a fourth of our time on the road lost or wondering if we are lost even when we have the GPS on. And we’re also thinking at least we didn’t have 30 feet of fifth wheel behind us.

Norman Rockwell Should be Hanged

Christmas with the Horde is over. They have come, protesting that there is too much food even as they fill their plates for the third time, and gone leaving behind dirty towels and a Christmas tree with rearranged ornaments. I can say it wasn’t as bad as I expected, but that is not saying much that is positive.

We have hosted Monte’s family for the past 10 or 11 years. It’s always been a hassle to plan and prepare for their coming. For various reasons this year it became something I’ve dreaded and ranted and raved about for all of December. Poor Monte and my friends really heard about it. But it’s over and we all survived and it turned out all right.

This year was the first year our nephew brought his new wife and three daughters. It was the first time my 81 year old father-in-law met his first great-grandchild. And there were expectations that it would be instant love on his part. I expected only hurt feelings when Grandpa didn’t express wonder at her babblings and clamor to hold her. But it all turned out ok. He did try to play with her and her half sisters, but had a hard time seeing them much less connecting to them as the camera lights blinded him any time he made a move in the girls’ direction. In time maybe the newness will wear off and they’ll be given time to come to know each other with no one trying to hover over them and record the progress.

The meal was good with concessions to a 6 year old, a two year old, and an 11 month old being made. I now remember that meals should be on a schedule and that little hands can reach higher than I expect. And like I said it’s over for at least a year maybe two.

As for me I’m planning for a different meal next year. I’m giving up the Norman Rockwell picture in my mind of a full table surrounded by smiling multi-generations sitting down to it. And I’ll go with the flow of plastic cups instead of wine glasses and talk of poop at the dinner table. I’m pretty sure my sanity is worth it.

Maybe next year I’ll have an adult dinner party with candles and wine glasses on the table and soft music in the background. I’ll invite our friends that have become family. We’ll have adult conversation in low tones. I’ll have it in January so it’s vision will help me shut my eyes to the spilt milk and close my ears to the cranky kids and picture the perfect dinner yet to come.

GOING POSTAL

I HATE THE POSTAL SERVICE.

I just got a returned Christmas letter because I had the wrong address on it. But someone at the post office wrote the correct address on the card and then slapped on a yellow sticker proclaiming it "not deliverable as addressed." Come on! You put the correct address on it so why is it "not deliverable"?

It's a good thing I love to receive Christmas cards and letters.

And Junior just received a ...

Christmas letters--you either love them or hate them. I. LOVE. THEM. I love hearing what people have done in the past year. I love to hear of everyone's accomplishments--the marriages, the births, the promotions.

I love the pictures of the family. One of my friends from grade school sent a picture of her family in front of their fireplace every year. It was neat to see how the girls grew from one year to the next and changed.

Some letters come from people I only hear from once a year. I know, I know. You're thinking if they're friends and I want to know what they're doing, why don't I write or call them throughout the year? Good question that I have no answer to. People move on and I lose track of them. Like my best friend from high school went to a different college than I did and I lost touch with for many, many years.

Anyway, I love to get Christmas letters. And I don’t care if they are brag letters. (If you’re my friend or in my family, I’m sure your children are above average.) And even if I don’t send you a letter every year, please send me yours. Some years there is just no time and those are the years there are no letters–like last year. Other years the Christmas letter morphed into a Valentine’s letter and once it even became a Fourth of July letter!

So to all of you who take the time and make the effort to write, thanks. And if you hate them, too bad. I’m still going to send them and tell you all the wonderful things that happened to us in the past year. I mean do you really want to hear how my cholesterol is up and Monte has lost more hair?

And So It Goes

OMG! It's official we have become our parents!

It dawned on me this morning that we have become Monte's parents. We were sitting in the chairs we inherited from them watching the birds at the feeders. Monte was checking out a woodpecker through his spotting scope. Now the birds are only 15 feet away from the window, but the scope comes in handy to see if the woodpecker has barred or unbarred tail feathers. Because if it has barred feathers it is a downy woodpecker, but if they are unbarred it's a hairy woodpecker. But according to the bird book it could also be a sapsucker! Or the decisions retired people debate.

Yes, we are his parents. But no, Kids, I'm not asking for bird food for Christmas. At least not this year.

Christmas Presents for All

This year I have been slow about getting ready for Christmas. I was in a funk and all of a sudden it was December 12 and nothing was done. But my life-long procrastination survival mode kicked and I’ve been going full blast. Menus have been made and cards have been written and sent. Gifts have been made and shopping trips were planned. Then the weather started being winter like and I was afraid there would only be checks under the tree.

I know some of you are thinking that money is the answer what with not knowing sizes or what the kids already have. But I hate to do that. I like to open presents and to watch the kids open presents. And I like a lot of presents. And I like surprises. And I don’t like to admit that I don’t know the kids well enough anymore to know what they have or want.

But I’ve gotten in gear and now I’m pretty satisfied with the present situation. Today I took a count and things are a bit lopsided. Whitney is always easy to buy for and I have to stop when I greach the limit Monte sets. And she will be happy to hear this year is no different.

Laef is harder to buy for. He never gives hints until December 22. At 6'6" it’s hard to run out and buy him a shirt or jeans. And as a male, many of the things he wants are expensive and I hate for him to just have one or two things under the tree. Then I also have to think about how he’s going to get his presents back to California. But his count is pretty good.

Now poor Allison’s count is not so good. But I have a couple of excuses, I mean, reasons. The biggest reason is our relationship is new and I’m trying for favorite mother-in-law (FMIL) status, and so I’ve been second guessing everything I buy for her. I pick up something and carry it around the store. I wonder will she like it? Will it fit? Is it too Midwest? And then I put it back just before I head to check out. Poor Allison. But I have a tactic I’m going to employ when she opens her two presents. I’m going to tell her that I was concerned about how she was to get all her presents home and I was just thinking of her when I wrapped up the cold hard cash. I’m counting on her being swayed by my consideration so I can hold on to my FMIL rank.

This FMIL status may be much harder to attain than I think.

What a difference a week makes

Saturday we drove to Kansas City to attend a wedding. It was a great evening with good friends and good food. We've known the groom all of his 30 years. It was wonderful to see him and his bride so in love and happy and excited about being married.

I wish them both all the happiness in the world and also all the luck they will need to be married.

Last Saturday I received the news that good friends of ours are divorcing after 33 years of marriage. What do I say?

I'm sad. A marriage of 33 years is over. Two of my friends are hurting.

I'm surprised. Yes, they had disagreements and their ups and downs--don't we all? Yes, there was kidding--"I'm going to divorce him." But I never thought they actually would.

I wish them both all the happiness in the world and all the luck they will need to be single.

Taking the plunge

Ok. It's official. This is my first blog. Do I have anything to say? Is it worth saying? Maybe. Maybe not. Some times I think it's pretty presumptuous of me to think that anything I write is worth reading by anyone. Then at other times I think that people -or at least some- listen when I talk and blogging is the same. It's just that I usually know who is listening and with blogging I won't know who is reading.

But it's someting I want to try. I've imagined writing since I was a teen. I even majored in English with the idea of writing the great American novel in the back of my mind. I also know I don't have the discipline to write a novel. And if I fail it won't be the first time I've tried something and it didn't turn out. One can look at my sewing room and see lots of evidence of this!

I've been getting encouragement from Allison to start a blog. But I don't think it really counts for two reasons. First, she's a blogger and enjoys writing and wants to share her interests. Second she's striving for favorite daughter-in-law status and we all know what we will say or do for that.

So here it is. Enjoy.