Dartboards....

I read "P.S. I Love You..." on our vacation last week.  It was a good book, and I won't ruin it for anyone, as it is out in the movies currently.  I enjoyed the ending, because it wasn't the one I had predicted.  The book is about a young woman who lost her husband to a brain tumor, and her learning to live without him.  I bought it on my way home from my brother's funeral.  One thing that bothered me in the book, though, was that several times she expressed regret at the fights they had had, and the terrible things they said to each other in anger.  Also, last week I had a conversation with a good friend who said that in choosing to love this particular man, she knew she had to accept that he would hurt her sometimes.  She didn't mean physically, but emotionally, and she seemed resigned to that fact.  The next day, I saw an episode of "Law and Order" that featured a NYC cop and his wife who had a mutually abusive relationship.  Cursing, saying mean hateful things to each other and physically abusing one another as well.   While I realize that the book and that TV episode are fictional accounts, I think that they and my friend's comments about the guy she loves are a sad statement about what some find acceptable in a married relationship.  We all know married couples who seem like they are verbally sparring all the time.  Slinging verbal darts at each other.  I am not comfortable being around people like that, and while it may "work" for them, I have a hard time understanding what happened between the time they promised to love honor and cherish each other, and now. I do not believe that love means never having to say you are sorry.  Nor do I believe that a marriage license gives you the right to exploit one another's vulnerabilities.  Or make demands.  Or make fun of each other in front of other people.  Marriage is supposed to be a partnership.  Your spouse is supposed to be your best friend and your greatest ally, and the one you can trust to make you feel safe.  There is no greater feeling than being secure in growing older with that person.  Than knowing that he/she will love you for better or worse, with makeup, and without.  With or without hair.  When youth and beauty fade, and when life takes unexpected turns, it is comforting to know there is someone taking the same journey with you.  I could not live with someone who didn't feel the same way.  I am so glad I don't have to.........

HELP!!!!!

I wrote an entry last month saying that I was going to start my Christmas projects early this year.  I did order and receive my Christmas cards from Shutterfly before Thanksgiving.  But I cannot seem to open the file which contains my Christmas card address list.  163 names.  I had a paper copy of the same list.  But I cannot find it in all the Christmas clutter.  So, I am compiling a new address file, name by name, and sending cards to people I am receiving cards from.  I have always enjoyed taking the photo, composing the letter, and mailing the cards, I think hearing from old friends is my favorite thing about the season!  But..........one computer is in the process of crashing, and my printer upstairs (attached to this computer) is working, sporadically.  So, I have about 1/2 of my letters printed.  Argh.  If you are reading this and haven't received a card from us by Friday, please email me your address!!!!

In order to bypass some of the craziness this season, I have ordered online, edible gifts to be sent directly to Tim's parents and my mom.  I hoped to avoid the post office, but found myself dumpster-diving this afternoon for boxes to mail gifts to the children of some of the Marines who are in the brig.  This is our CYO Angel Tree project for Christmas.  Do you think it is in bad taste to send toys in  Jack Daniel's or Marlboro cardboard boxes?  So, I will be at the post office some tomorrow, and probably Thursday, as well.

Today I gathered all the stockings up and filled them to be sure I had bought enough of the right stuff for each of the kids.  I found myself cutting open blister packets of some items so that they would fit better in the stockings.  Someone stole my scissors AGAIN (or maybe I left them somewhere....), so I was using an 8 inch long hunting knife which happened to be in the bedroom.  I am lucky I still have all my fingers.  We will take stockings to our mountain vacation, but only a present or two for each of the kids - the big things will be here waiting for them when they get back.  Even since we started limiting the kids' gifts to 3 each from Santa, it still seems like an overwhelming amount of stuff.  I have asked my sister, who sends gifts every year, if we can cut back - I always feel guilty because there are so many of us, and only 4 in her family, and she always buys for everyone.  I don't want Christmas to be about getting for the sake of getting.  Giving is nice, and it is fun, but it becomes less so when there are time and money constraints.  At this time last year, I thought I would like to give everyone (extended family) a "homemade Christmas".  I planned to burn a CD of family favorites - make cookies and sew hats, that sort of thing.  Maybe next year.  Sigh.  I am still finishing up teacher's gifts, which are cookie-mix in a jar.  It will be so good to get all this stuff put away.  I think I've abandoned the idea of actually relaxing before we head to VA.  But maybe then............

The Funeral

I returned last night from Michigan, where I went home for my brother's funeral.  It was wonderful to see the people whose lives he had touched in his 53 years.  My sister who is closest to his age and who shared many of the same friends, wrote a beautiful eulogy, both touching and amusing.  She knew him better than most of us, I think.  As sad as the finality of it all was, it is good to know that he is no longer in pain.  And it was good to see his life remembered with laughter.  Apparently as teenagers, he and some of his friends hoisted a chrome car bumper 50 feet up into the branches of a big oak tree at the park across the street from my mom's house.  I never knew it was there, but they said they used to sit up there and survey the neighborhood.  After the funeral luncheon, they all drove over to the park to view the bumper and my brother John videotaped their conversations and laughter.  I think the whole event from visitation to the funeral mass and their gathering at the base of the tree was handled with dignity and was a celebration of his life, which is a wonderful tribute to Dennis and his family.  I pray now that his wife and his son will continue to remember him with joy and that they will find peace and solace in each other as they go on without him.  Wendy is blessed with a supportive family on both sides, and she is a woman of strength, so I know that in time she will be OK.

It was nice to have this small chunk of time to spend with my mom and the rest of my siblings.  As my own children grow, I am beginning to see traits that some of them share with some of my brothers. It is fun to compare personalities, as they are all so different.  I didn't realize until I was on my way home from the airport, though, how very much I missed my husband and my kids.    They are my HOME.  My family.  Not to minimize any of the relationships we have with our extended families, but it is a great feeling to know that those who are most important to me were here waiting for me when I got home.  I am so blessed.

1 am

Yesterday I got to play grown up for a little while.  My Norwegian neighbor (whose youngest daughter is Colleen's best friend), hosted a birthday luncheon for my French neighbor (who gives Colleen and Megan weekly art lessons),  I had an entire plate of food my kids would never touch, to include caviar, humus, and some other things.  Nothing that resembled a hotdog or chips.  All yummy.  And sherry and coffee to drink, and varied, exotic desserts.  All served on fine china with real silverware.  With no toys in sight.  No blaring teenager music.  No bickering kids.  It was fun.

Here I sit, with my face 6 inches from the computer screen downstairs, on my second awakening of the night.  I've been in with Mick twice because he has woken up crying.  Since his vocabulary is still extremely limited, and there are no signs of physical distress, I am thinking he's having bad dreams.   I have to leap from my bed as quietly as I can at the first noise from him so that the little princess who shares our room doesn't awaken.  Having forgotten to grab my pillow, in a search for something to lay my head on in Mick's bed (his face 3 inches from mine is not conducive to sleep), I found the big stuffed Shrek  in the closet, which Shane has claimed as his "own room", and where he is now sleeping peacefully in the toy box (lid off, of course!).  When the clock downstairs struck 1 am (marked by two chimes, since I messed it up last time I set it and now I have to subtract an hour if I am not looking at it to know what time it is), and I was itching all over because of some ant bites I got when I strung the Christmas lights in the bushes the other night, I decided to come downstairs and take some benadryl.  Descending the stairs, I noticed that the front door was wide open, and every single light was on.  Every one.  Anyone who drives by our house between the hours of 10 pm and 7 am probably thinks we never sleep.  One day we will have to pay for our electricity.  I have got to train these kids better! Molly forgot to do the kitchen cleanup AGAIN.  She and Katie have alternate nights to do this chore.  The kitchen is a wreck, and I could be fixing it, but I think I am going to try and catch some sleep on the couch before the next interruption.  Molly has drill in the morning, and I will undoubtedly hear her combat boots (yes, my daughter wears combat boots) on the stairs around 5:45, at which time I will gently remind her to do the kitchen before she leaves.  I already know it will be a delightful start to my day............