At what point do you realize how much you still have to teach your children?
    Adam and I were talking in the car with the radio turned down.  The four kids were in the back carrying on with each other and generally, just being kids.  
    I faintly heard a song come over the radio that pulled me right back to the early 1980's.  I was suddenly transported to my childhood days at Dow's Roller Rink with my best friend Tricia, in our headbands and (awesome) leg warmers.
    Screaming, I startled the kids...and Adam...as I reached to crank up the volume. 
    "I haven't heard this song in YEARS!" 
    Ohhhhhh yeah.  That's when it happened.  As soon as Adam caught onto the song, we both busted into the world's greatest rendition of "I Love Rock 'n' Roll" that would have done my 80's hair proud.  I don't know if Joan Jett herself could have blasted it any louder. 
    We had the full air guitar going, head banging, rock concert - right there in the family car. 
    It was therapeutic. 
    When the song ended and Adam went back to driving like a normal person, we turned to look at the kids.  Preston and Lauren Elizabeth, our four and five year olds, threw their arms up. 
    "Do it again!  Play it back Daddy!"  (It's hard for them to understand why the radio doesn't go backwards." 
     Christian and Ethan, our eight and nine year olds were a different story.  Their eyes were huge and their mouths dropped open.  They looked at us as though aliens had just taken over their parents.  
     "Mom?  What song was that?"  
     "It's a classic guys!  'I Love Rock 'n' Roll' put another dime in the jukebox baby..."
     "Dad?  What's a joot box?"
     "Not a joot box guys.  A JUKEBOX.  You would put money in it to play a record."
     "What's a record?"
     Ohhhh no.  Adam and I were now the ones who had the dropped jaws.  My heart began to hurt at the realization of what little they knew.
     It looks like from now on, a few more rock concerts around the house will be in order.  Who knows...I might even break out the old records and roller skates.   
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   Father's Day is just around the corner.  Today we met up with some good friends at a local pottery place to work on a gift. 

     The kids chose everything from an ice cream cone to a football.  They picked their paint colors and got right to work.

     If you have a pottery place nearby, there's still time to create that special gift for Dad.  It's a fun way to give a personal surprise that he'll love for years to come...just ask Preston...   

     Allow me to set the stage.  Many (many) years ago, I went to college at a Presbyterian school.  It was four fun-filled years packed with friends and good times. 
     The minister of the school was such a strong part of the campus.  His name was Jerry and he was down to earth and kind.  I always loved the fact that not only was he extremely smart and funny, but he was never judgmental.  (Little did I know how much this would matter.)      
     When Adam and I were engaged years later, Jerry was one of the first people we called.  He was part of our wedding and has always had a special place in our hearts. 
     As luck would have it, Jerry had a conference that would allow him to visit our home for the first time...after all these years.
    Have you ever had that realization that ALL the things your kids do is no big deal UNTIL there's a guest in your home?  I'm talking, full up...running laps around the house, chasing each other from room to room, terrorizing the cat, burping, tooting, yelling, screaming...craziness?  
     To us, it's home.  It's every night of the week actually, but when company is there and you realize just how wild it must seem to someone else?...ugh. 
     Take for instance a two minute period of dinner at the table...  
     Preston:  "Ethan, you're a poopy head."
     Ethan:   "No I'm NOT!  YOU ARE!"
     Ethan:   "Hey Christian!  Can you get that under there?"
     Christian: "I'm NOT saying it Ethan.  Stop it."
     Lauren:   "HEY GUYS!  LOOK!!!"
     As we all turned to look at Lauren Elizabeth in her sweet little sundress, she put her tiny hand underneath her armpit and proceeded to flap her elbow up and down.  Arm farts...yes, arm farts.  Our four year old daughter literally made arm farts in front of the man who married us.
     Dessert anyone? 
     Jerry couldn't have been better about the whole thing.  He has Grandchildren and is so good with kids even though I'm sure nothing quite compared to our motley crew.
     It was so nice to see him and it actually turned out to be a great time despite the dinner conversation and bodily functions.
      It's always something when the past and the present come together to revisit memories and build new ones.
     Thank You SO Much for stopping by Jerry!  You are a brave, brave soul!  We hope you'll come back again!  We Miss and Love You! 
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     When I was a kid, my parents would often take our family on road trips.  I grew up in Ohio but my Mom's side lived in Point Pleasant Beach, New Jersey, while my Grandparents on my Dad's side lived in Hilton Head Island, South Carolina.  
    My older brother, David and I would get so excited about seeing our family and going to the beach that we would often drive our parents crazy in the car.  My Dad could only take so much until "The Claw" eventually came out.  I swear he could reach his arm so far back that David and I couldn't find one square inch to hide.  My brother would even use me as a human sacrifice and push me forward so Dad could reach me first.  
    The worst time ever was about nine or ten hours into a drive when David and I would NOT stop fighting.  Dad had gotten to that point and finally yelled, "Do you want me to STOP THIS CAR?!"  I must have been in Jr. High at the time, because whatever came over me, I said in a snarky voice..."Yeah, Dad.  We want you to stop the car."
    EEEEERRRRRRRRRCHHHHH!  He pulled off the side of the highway so fast that our eyes about popped out.  My brother shot a look at me with half bewilderment and half awe.  He couldn't believe that I said it.  I couldn't believe that I said it.  My parents DEFINITLY couldn't believe that I said it...and you can bet your boots that I never said it again.
     With this story in mind, you'll understand my reaction then when tonight, my husband and I were on the road with the kids.  All four of them were out of control and would not stop screaming or fighting.  Christian kept messing with Ethan...Ethan kept bothering Preston and Preston kept annoying Lauren.  On and on they went until Adam couldn't take it anymore.  He screamed, "DO YOU WANT ME TO STOP THIS CAR?!" 
     They all fell silent.  I stopped breathing for a split second waiting to see how strong the course of genetics were.  I couldn't help but wonder if anyone would give him the same answer.  
     Nothing.  They were all quiet and wide eyed.  For whatever reason, I turned my head and tried to cover my face from giggling.  Adam shot me a confused look.  He was fuming and I was laughing.  I tried to keep my mouth covered and whispered, "You just sounded EXACTLY like my Dad". 
      He still didn't think it was funny, but I couldn't stop from snickering.  Thinking of the past and "The Claw" brought back so many memories. 
      Our kids will probably never learn the perfect art form of squeezing their entire bodies into a two inch radius of the back seat, but those of you who grew up with "The Claw" too, probably had it down to a science. 
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     There's something that happens to an eight or nine year old boy that seems to change who they are.  They somehow morph into this sound producing, miniature caveman.
    Gone are the days of your little four or five year old curling up in your lap.  They're replaced instead, by this new form of a burping, snorting, joke telling being.
    When going through some pictures that our son had drawn, we found this...

     I'll give him points for creativity, but REALLY?!  Half of me wanted to laugh while the other half gagged.  Why do boys do this?
    I grew up with a big brother so I'm glad that I was somewhat prepared for the Y-Chromosome.  Having a house with three boys can be a little hard to handle though.  Our living room has seen more WWF Championship wrestling matches than I could begin to count.  The past year has blessed us with an indefinite amount of bugs, worms, frogs...the list goes on and on. 
    And then, you get this...
    "Hey Mom!  What do you call a boomerang that won't come back?"
    "I don't know...what?"
    "A STICK!"  Bwahaha haha!!!
    "Mom!  Can you get that under there?"
    "Under where?"
     BAAAAAHA HA HA HA!!!
     (Sadly, that one took a few minutes for me to get.)  
     I know this is just a phase and I'll miss this time before it's gone.  I can't begin to imagine what will come next though. 
     Until then, I'll take as many attack hugs that I can get, knowing to cherish each one. 
     Gags and jokes will be replaced by girls and cars all too soon...and that will just plain (ex)stinked.
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     "MOMMY?!  Could I have a CUPCAKE?!" 
     "Sure Baby Girl."
      Knowing that we didn't have any cupcakes in the house, it didn't worry me when our four year old little girl yelled up the stairs.  She often "makes" cookies, cakes and cupcakes with her pretend food and then "eats" them during a tea party. 
     Heading down the stairs, I expected her typical set up of little pink plates and cups with spoons, but there was nothing.  Turning to Lauren Elizabeth, I saw white on her face and squinted trying to figure out what was.   
     "Lauren?"
     "Yes Mommy?"
     "What did you just eat?"
     "A cupcake." 
     Just then, I turned to see what looked like a cupcake with a little plastic ring beside it.  (What in the...)
     Picking the ring up, it was a football.  The only rings we had like that were from her big brother Ethan's birthday party...BACK IN APRIL..."LAUREN!  Did you EAT THIS?!"
    "Yep."
    "WHERE DID YOU GET IT?!"
    Suddenly looking reserved, she pointed to the other room...the dining room.  There, she took me to a box that had a few left over (hard as your head) cupcakes that someone put on the seat of a chair and pushed under the table.  
     We eat meals in the kitchen and next to never go in the dining room.  Those cupcakes had been sitting there for over a month and the scary thing was that they looked as pretty as the day we bought them.  
     Needless to say, I had to assume the worst and think that she ate a whole one.  Asking her, she shook her head 'no' and said, "Just a little bit".  
     I hate to admit this - but if it would have been our first time at this rodeo, I would have run to the emergency room with her so fast that her head would have spun.  Being that she is our fourth child...I watched her throughout the morning and she was fine. 
     Throwing the cupcakes away, I still couldn't believe how perfect they looked.  It only made me wonder what kind of preservatives were in them.  
     As the last one hit the trash, I heard..."Mommy?  Can I have another cupcake?"
     "Not one of these Lauren.  Let's go have a tea party."

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    When Adam and I first got married, I couldn't cook.  I don't mean...it was hard to make a full sit down dinner...I mean, I couldn't even make spaghetti.  I had this gift of making something taste raw and burnt at the same time.  I tried (oh how I tried) but it wasn't atypical to smoke our little apartment out or even start a fire.  Seriously.  "Stop, Drop and Roll" became our new mantra.
     He was in the Air Force and had orders to deploy to the Middle East after 9/11.  I resorted to eating take out or cereal while he was gone.  Then something happened.
     When he came home, he had orders to move to Sheppard Air Force Base in Wichita Falls, Texas.  When we got there, we didn't know a soul.  I found a good job but when I came home and he had a night flight, I discovered this new world called the "Food Network Channel".  
    Paula Deen and Rachael Ray quickly became my new best friends as I grew mesmerized at the delicious meals they would prepare.  Watching episode after episode, I decided to give cooking another try. 
    Within a few months, Adam would come home and smile at the smell of dinner instead of worry and wonder what it might taste like.  
    I've loved cooking ever since and take comfort in the kitchen almost to the point where it's therapeutic. 
    This week though, I was reminded of our early days.  Catching a recipe on a morning show that looked good and simple, I decided to give it a go.  It was pork chops and brown rice with onions.  Rarely making anything with pork chops or rice, I thought it would be a good change of pace.  
    hmph.
    Disaster.  The pork chops were as tough as leather and the rice was hard and crunchy.  It was kind of like trying to eat a shoe with little brown rocks.
    Feeding a young 20 something, starving husband verses feeding four hungry children is a whole different thing. 
    "Mom?  What IS this?"  
    Adam put his head down to hide his laugh.  
    Choking down what we could, we finally resorted to peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.  
    It's been a long time since I've hung out with Rachael or Paula.  Maybe this weekend we should catch up.
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     Have you ever gone to an awards ceremony for your child?  You know, the kind where you sit and wait on bated breath hoping that your son or daughter made some honor or accolade at an end of the year ceremony for school?  Ummmm, yeah. 
    I've mentioned before how our two older boys are completely opposite from each other.  Our oldest son Christian, is the academic type while our second son Ethan, is an athlete.  You should never "stereotype" your child, but that's who they are.
     Ethan's second grade end of the year awards ceremony was yesterday so the whole family got dressed and ready to go.  He was so excited to have us sit in a row together and cheer him on.  
    At 9:00 in the morning, the teachers began to come out one by one, announcing the achievements of their students.  Ethan's teacher came to the podium and I squeezed Adam's hand, then reached for the camera.  
     Reading off the list of names for the "Perfect Attendance Award", Adam and I sat back a little, knowing that Ethan might be in the next category.
     Beginning the list of the A/B Honor Roll, we sat back up and positioned ourselves for his walk across the stage.  I held the camera up and pushed my right finger slightly down to get into focus.  I wasn't going to miss a shot. 
     As the teacher began to read the list, she got closer and closer to his name.  Feeling excitement and nervousness, I couldn't wait for our baby to get his award.  (I hope he shakes hands and accepts his award with the right hands...I hope that he walks on and off the stage the right way...I hope he doesn't trip...I hope he isn't nervous...I hope that he...wait...WHAT?)  She passed right by his name.  He wasn't called and she was getting closer to the end.  
     Feeling my camera lower and my heart sink, I couldn't help but drop my jaw and look at Adam.  His reaction matched mine.  Completely stunned, he whispered, "Did you check his grades online before we came?"  Slowly putting the camera in my lap I slouched down in my seat.  "No...did you?!"  
     "NO!  I thought YOU did?!  We didn't even have to get everybody ready and come?!  Ohhhhh, man...Ethan is going to be crushed."  
     Little Preston and Lauren Elizabeth began to climb over each other in the auditorium fold down chairs between us and big brother Christian leaned over to whisper, "Why didn't Ethan get called?"  
     Holding our fingers up to shoosh him, Adam and I gave each other one last look knowing how upset Ethan was going to be.  He was so excited about the day. 
     His teacher began to announce the end of the last category for the "all A Honor Roll" - and we sat patiently wanting nothing more than to go give him a hug. 
    "Ethan"  His name echoed from the microphone and Adam grabbed my wrist.  Stumbling for the camera I almost dropped it on the floor.
    We watched as Ethan took the stage with his little church shoes and khaki pants matching his new summer haircut.  He beamed from ear to ear.  
     He's never scored a homerun or touch down that's made me want to scream "THAT'S MY BOY!" any more than he did right then.  
    Shaking hands and taking his award, he looked out to smile with the proudest look he's ever had.             
    My eyes welled as I clicked away...and I couldn't help but grin at the boy he's growing to be.  
    Going to get him after the ceremony, he held his award up yelling, "STRAIGHT A's!  I got ALL A's for the whole year!"  
    His look of happiness and achievement, knowing that all of his hard work paid off...was nothing less than contagious.
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   It's always nice to get a three day weekend.  Traveling, relaxing, barbequing, no matter what you decide to do, Memorial Day usually seems to be the unofficial kick off to summer.  The swimming pools open and the beaches are packed.  What IS Memorial Day really about though?
    Anybody who knows my Dad knows how much he loves history.  He was a history teacher in fact.  Anybody who knows me though, knows that I on the other hand, was usually found braiding my best friend's hair during history class.
    I've always known that Memorial Day was to honor those in the military who have lost their lives, but what else?  How did it begin?
    In August of 2000, Adam and I went with my parents to visit Charleston, South Carolina.  (It turned out that Adam loved history as much as my Dad.)  We were all surprised to see cameras and news teams everywhere and wondered what was going on.  The buzz around Charleton was that they were raising the "Hunley".  Having no idea what that meant, I watched as Adam and my Dad were in awe. 
     "What's the Hunley?" I asked as Dad smacked his forehead and shot Adam a look that said, "She's all yours now."  They explained that during the Civil War, the Confederates made a submarine called "The Hunley."
     It was built to sink the blockade ships from the North.  The Hunley wasn't the first submarine ever made, but it was the first to sink an enemy ship, which wasn't done again until World War 1. 
     What fascinated me about the Hunley was a story that we heard about of one of the nine men trapped inside when it sank.  Evidently, there was a man named Lt. George Dixon who commanded the submarine.  According to legend, Lt. Dixon had a true love back home named Queenie Bennett.  Wanting to keep him safe, Queenie sent him off to war with a gold coin as a good luck charm.  
     Before Lt. Dixon took his fateful trip in the submarine, he had also fought in previous battles, one of them being the battle of Shiloh.  When fighting, the legend continues that he was shot - but he wasn't killed by the bullet.  It was said that the shot instead, struck the gold coin given by his love, saving his life.  Lt. Dixon was never to go without the coin again.
     People wondered for over a century if the legend was true.  When the Hunley was raised, sure enough...there, beside the remains of Lt. George E. Dixon was a gold coin that was indented.  
Inscribed on the coin was this:
Shiloh
April 6, 1862
My life Preserver
G. E. D.  
      To me, this is one of the countless stories of what Memorial Day is all about.  Fathers, mothers, husbands, wives, sons, daughters, brother and sisters.  So many have lost such loved ones.  
     Researching more about the history of Memorial Day online, I found that three years after the end of the Civil War on May 5, 1868, the Grand Army of the Republic declared that "Decoration Day" be established to honor those who had lost their lives.  The soldiers were honored and remembered by decorating their graves.  It's believed that the month of May was chosen due to the number of flowers blooming across the country.
     By the end of the 1800's, Decoration Day services were being held on May 30th throughout the country.  In 1971, Memorial Day was declared a National holiday by an act of Congress but can still be heard to be called "Decoration Day" even now.  The date was established to be on the last Monday of every May from that year on.
     So that's how it began.  Memorial Day from that time forward has been a day to reflect and be thankful for those who have sacrificed everything to make this country what it is today.  
     Happy Memorial Day and Thank You to those who protect and defend this great land. 
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