"Santa Claus is coming to town..."

Tofino Ballerinos!

 

 

 

Pretty Path

 

 

 

Thankful

Watching the kids run around the cemetery as if it was just another wide open field to play in makes me want to stomp on this instant bad mood of mine. As I step out of the car, Noah runs towards me exclaiming that there are new “stones” and that he and Audrey went to go see the lions (monuments in a new section of Highland Park Cemetery). The sun is shining, the air is warm and it’s as glorious a day as anyone could hope for. Pretty much perfect.

I try to fake excitement for him as I stand there and my mood plummets. The two of them dance around and run though the grass as I fight with myself to be thankful that my kids can do such things. Running around in the sun, enjoying an amazing fall day. Commenting on how pretty the trees are poking their heads out on each side of Daddy’s memory wall smiling and laughing. These are perfect examples of the normalcy that I have striven for over the past year and a half for them. Yet, I struggle to crack a smile and I fight the urge to shove them in the car and drive off in haste.

As time goes by, this place keeps changing for me. Do I want to bring the kids here and force a memory on them? Is it productive and an important part of keeping Mark’s memory alive, or is it just the opposite? I painstakingly agonized over the placement, the spot, the writing on the wall, the garden I was going to tend to and now... it is weeks even months between visits. I couldn't sleep until I chose this spot and now I avoid it because of the fall out I experience each time I visit it. The “I miss Daddy’s” and sadness I catch in Audrey’s eyes makes me question what the right thing to do is.

Now, a day later my grumpiness has subsided and I find myself thinking about yesterday but also about the weekend. I force myself to realize that the visit to the cemetery was a brief part of what was an otherwise fun filled 3 days of sunshine, laughing children, turkey, wine, family and friends...enough to be thankful for on this holiday Monday night as I get ready for the week ahead.

How Do You LikeThem Apples?

 

 

 

 

 

The Kissing Hand

The Kissing Hand, by Audrey Penn; a must have for any parent of a preschooler. This book has been kicking around the book shelves for a few years at our house as it is one of “Mummy’s teacher books” so the kids especially like it. I decided to read it the night before Noah started daycare, or “school” as we refer to it around here.

The story is about a raccoon, who doesn’t want to go to school but wants to stay home with his mom. The clever mummy offers up a special secret that immediately interests Chester and he wants to know more. She tells him about the secret of the kissing hand, and how her mother told her about it when she was his age. She gently unfolds his hand and kisses it, then carefully wraps his hand around it so as not to lose it. She reminds him that he can place his hand against his cheek throughout the day in case he misses her and to think about how much she loves him. She even jokes about it ‘sticking’ when he washes his food. Not only does the secret satisfy him and he merrily goes off to school (without so much as a whimper!) but he surprises her with a kissing hand for her to keep.

Try reading that one the night before your baby starts daycare!

So as we are about to leave for his first day of ‘school’ I think to myself that the next ½ hour has the potential to go either way (BTW, my wager is on the screaming and kicking end of things). I reach deep and come up with the “kissing hand”. I unfold his hand, kiss it and then fold it back up reminding him how fun school will be and that I will be back to pick him up later that day. He plays along telling me not to worry, it will stick when he washes his hands for snack. I buckle him up and we pull out of the driveway.

We drive the 5min up the road to school and he has his seat belt unbuckled and is climbing over Audrey to get out before I can even get there to help him (all the while I’m waiting for him to turn, and run!). He’s got his backpack on and his right hand closed so tightly you can see the whites of his knuckles. He pushes past his sister then pauses to look up at me (with is big brown eyes) and says:

“Mom, is dis the hand with de kiss Mom...Mom is this it?!!”