Grandma

Today I was buying a Starbucks gift card to send to my sister, who is a freshman in college. I wanted to encourage her at school and let her know we’re thinking about her.

Somehow that triggered a memory of how encouraging my grandmother was to me. She was so proud of me in college. She tried to call me, but of course I was never in my room. So we devised a system where I would call her collect, and instead of accepting the charge, she would decline and then call me back. She just simply could not lie, so when the collect call would come through, she would say, “Staci? Staci isn’t here. There’s no one here by that name” instead of just saying no. It was so cute.

When I was a teenager and my parents were unfair to me, I would call my grandmother and cry. She always sided with me, to my comfort. She cried with me and would talk about other times she and my grandfather felt my parents were too strict or demanding of me. She was my safety and my comfort. She told me I was her favorite, and I believed her. She made an awesome roast beef with potatoes, and always served canned cranberry sauce with dinner.

I miss her terribly. She said that she wouldn’t die until I was married. She wanted to know that I was taken care of. Well, I moved in with Terry and we had a quiet December 31 wedding with just the pastor I worked for and my parents. We had a large wedding planned for July. My grandma died in April. Technically, I WAS married, even though we hadn’t told her. I just wish she’d made it to the wedding.

She doted on me. And sometimes I look at my children and wish that she could see them. That she could see the joy they bring to me. That she could see how I have matured into a responsible woman from the flighty, silly girl I used to be. I made some disappointing choices, and I feel so badly that I ever distressed or grieved her. I wish I could ask her questions about her childhood, about her family and about how she lived so frugally, saving every last penny. I miss her watching her favorite soap opera: Days of Our Lives. And how she would throw a little bit of Polish into a conversation, such as “chee-ho-bunch” and “t00-tYe” and “juda”.

She came to my high school play and cheered me on. She loved me, and her loss has been incredibly difficult for me. It’s almost 7 years since she died, and not a day goes by that I don’t think of her.

Antelope Island

 Antelope Island is an amazing island in the middle of the Salt Lake. It’s populated with bison and has several walking and hiking trails, an educational visitor center, camping facilities and an eatery. We went the other day with the kids.

Keep in mind it’s a $9 entrance fee per vehicle.  We took the dog, anticipating an energetic hike on a trail. AJ cried the whole drive down there. We thought he’d feel better once we stretched our legs (it’s about a 25 min. drive). Nope. He just kept crying. Then he complained that his hands were cold. If he would wear his mittens, they’d feel MUCH better, but he was not interested. So we went to the visitor center and basically went home after about 20 minutes.

However, on the side of the road bison were grazing. They were extremely close and we got some fun pictures! Yes, they’re really that close–about 8 feet away from Grace. It’s not just clever photography!!!!!

Socks.

Socks, in my house, always seem to disappear. Not both of a pair, although I suspect that’s happened a few times. Usually it’s just one so that I’m stuck with one that matches nothing. I tried buying all white for the kids, but that’s so boring! And we accidentally buy different brands/cuffs and the AJ ends up with pink or something when Terry dresses him b/c he can’t find socks for the kids and Grace’s seem to work just fine if they’re the only ones readily available,  without a hunt under the dryer or the couch or in the dog’s crate or in a pillowcase or something.Anyways, I found a solution!!

I bought some mesh lingerie bags with the zippers at the top. Whenever the kids or I take off our socks (Terry’s dont disappear at the same rate ours do) we put them in the bag. I throw the bag in the washer and dryer, and voila! Out comes the zipped up bag with matching socks. Then I bring the bag to various bedrooms where the socks are unloaded directly into the drawers.

I think I’m a genius.

Going nuts.

The kiddos are driving me NUTS. Grace has been irresponsible with our DVD collection, and leaves DVDs out of the case on the floor. Imagine her surprise when her favorite, “All Dogs Go to Heaven,” is skipping in several places. Then she starts screaming, b/c she just can’t bear it. Then she pushes AJ, who starts screaming. Then the two dogs start playing with each other, knocking everyone over in the process.

 Today is not a knitting day. We’re packing up and going to the park to feed the ducks and the swans. We need some nature. My favorite author, Anne Lamott, says that she was advised, “God is in creation and that if we want to be closer to God, we should get outdoors as much as possible”.

 It makes sense to me. And I really need a God-dose today.

What a morning.

It’s 10am and the kitchen floor is covered in oatmeal. My shirt is covered in oatmeal and AJ’s blue longies are covered in oatmeal (thankfully his pants have white flecks thru them, so it looks ok!). My glasses have oatmeal on them. The dogs have been eating oatmeal. AJ’s shirt has oatmeal all over it. It’s an oatmeal day, I guess. AJ refused to sit in his high chair, choosing instead to sit at the table, as has been his custom for the past week. He couldn’t see over the top of the bowl and accidentally spilled some oatmeal. He was frustrated and dumped the bowl upside down on the table. I scooped the oatmeal back into the bowl. Finally I put him on my lap to eat. Hence oatmeal all over me.

Meanwhile, Grace is whining, “I want more oatmeal. I want more oatmeal.” There isn’t any. She’ll just have to wait.