Monthly Archives: November 2012

To Be a Kid Again…

For many reasons, wouldn’t this be nice?  But let’s just pick one reason for the sake of time (I only get so much of it at the computer with 5 kiddos running around).


Yep, money.

My 8-year old received a crisp one dollar bill from Grandpa as Grandpa and Grandma were saying their goodbyes after Thanksgiving weekend.  The 8-year old was ecstatic.  He immediately thought  of dozens of ways to spend it.  Unfortunately, being the evil Grinch that I am, I had to shut down every shiny toy idea in his racing mind.  I had to remind him he had only ONE dollar.

Later that day, I needed to blow dry my hair, so I gave him and the 4-year old a whole quarter each for keeping baby happy in his little playroom.  With money and toys on their minds, they were more than willing to help out.

Today, the 8-year old asked, “If I have four quarters, I have a dollar, right?”


“And if I had four more quarters, I would have two dollars?” He was smiling big now.

“That’s right,” I said.

“And if I had four more quarters again, that would be three dollars??”  I nodded.  “And if I put that with my dollar bill from Grandpa, that’s four dollars?”


He could barely contain his excitement.  His smile stretched from ear to ear, and anyone who knows my 8-year old knows he really can smile that big.

He ran upstairs and came back down with 12 quarters and his crisp dollar bill.  He was rich!!  He went on and on about how much money he had and how he would buy something for himself first and then his sister, and then everyone else when he had some left over.  I sighed.  I didn’t pull a Grinch move this time.  I am letting him relish in the idea that at this moment in his life, he really is rich.

Soon enough he will realize that $4 in the bank account means “OH **** I AM BROKE!”

Yes, to be a kid again!!

Thought Process of a 3-Year Old

I lit a nice cranberry and spice candle and accidently dropped the lighter when I was done.  My 3-year old was standing next to me and swiftly picked up the lighter.  He then, of course, attempted to light the lighter.

“Don’t do that,” I said calmly, holding my hand out for the lighter.

“It will make a fire?” he asked, handing it back.


“It will burn my finger?”  he asked.


A brief pause.

“I like my fingers.”

For the Love of Blankie

My children have all had blankies.  My oldest two have traded their blankie days for other things, but my almost 5-year old, 3-year old and infant all still love their blankies.  To lose a blankie is a terrible thing…

The following conversation just took place.

The 4-year old, as she skipped through the house in her ballet slipper embossed dress, asked: “Where is my Blankie?”

No answer.

“Why does no one care about my Blankie?”

She spotted a corner of  Blankie underneath the 8-year old, sitting beside Daddy who was playing an intense video game.  She grabbed the corner and tugged at it.  The 8-year old and Daddy did not move.  They did not notice.  More tugging ensued, and finally I intervened.

“You are sitting on Blankie,” I said.  Some scooching took place and Blankie was retrieved.

“No one will ever love your Blankie as much as you do,” Daddy told our sweet, twirling daughter who danced around happily, now reunited with Blankie.

“That’s not true,” I said, “I love Blankie because SHE loves Blankie.”

“And my Blankie gives me chocolate!”  The 4-year old insisted.

“That is just not true!”  Daddy said jokingly.

I interjected.  “You don’t know!  Blankie may sprinkle her with yummy chocolate dreams, for all we know.”

“Impossible!”  Daddy continued.

“You don’t know anything about my Blankie!  My Blankie loves me and she gives me chocolate!”  She said, still twirling with it around the room.

“Nope, not possible!”

“My Blankie is NOT listening to you!”  She said and skipped away.

Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice

My 4-year old loves to do schoolwork.  The other day she decided to spice up her writing practice.  She chose pink paper, naturally, and added some pizzaz to her letters.  The result:


Memory Eternal

As with so many near and dear to us, there will be no flashy front page articles on the passing of one’s life.  The world will go on as it did just yesterday.  But for those of us who are mourning the death of a loved one, our lives are now different and forever changed by our loss.  What we have now are our memories and our love and our prayers.

If my uncle were on the front page this morning, the article might read something to this effect:  “Early this morning, the world said good bye to a great man…  Charles, who lost his battle to liver cancer, passed away peacefully, surrounded by his loved ones…”  And while his passing was indeed peaceful, and while he was surrounded by his youngest brother and sister in law while the rest of the world slept unknowingly, I would argue that it was not a battle lost, but a battle won.

We all share struggles in this life.  My uncle’s struggle with cancer was very brief, as he only became aware of it mid-July of this year.  He has always been a sweet and loving man, generous and outgoing.  He was nothing less while he suffered through his cancer these past months.  And though his last week or two was uncomfortable, he endured it peacefully and humbly.

He has always been very close t0 my five children.  Today, with tears in their eyes, they remember the ball games he took them to, the movies they saw together: Avatar, Madagascar, Toy Story 3, just to name a few.  They remember how he made the four hour drive to our home to visit us when my 6 year old turned 7, and how whenever we drove down to where he and much of our other family live, he always opened his house to us.  He adored us all and he especially adored my children.  As he had none of his own, I always felt like he lived out “Dad” through them at times.

But perhaps the most remarkable and miraculous thing was his spirituality during his past few months.  Many people get religious and go looking for God and cures when faced with a terminal illness.  But he seemed to not find Him out of superstition or in hopes of a cure, yet out of a genuine conversion.  He was baptized into the Orthodox Church, coincidently, the same day his father passed away seven years prior.  And while we will all miss him terribly, we know that he is now at peace, whole and well.  He is in Paradise, where there is no suffering, no sighing and no tears.

Memory Eternal, beloved Uncle, Great Uncle, nephew and brother!

Uncle Charlie with my 11-year old, 8-year old and hubby, 5 days before his death.