I must begin with an apology. I have been busy beyond all belief and there are more than a few of you out there who are waiting for me to return your calls, respond to your e-mails, and RSVP to baby showers and weddings that have already come and gone (Sorry!). If it makes you feel any better, please know that I also just opened mail this week postmarked June 16th (I haven't even made it to the July mail yet) and that I have not yet gone through the kids' end-of-the-year folders full of everything they brought home on the last day of school. So, I'm running about 3-4 weeks behind to say the least. It seems so basic to open a bill or reply to an e-mail, but, for some reason, the smallest of tasks seem to be the most insurmountable right now. Don't even ask about my laundry. To make a long story short-I bought a half-dozen new bath towels today.
The good news is that most of what is keeping me busy is fun. Since my last post, some of the highlights include:
1. Jack's baseball games. His team is 9 and 1 and is considered one of the best teams in the entire league. His tournament starts this Thursday and I wouldn't be surprised if his team wins the whole thing!
2. The twins' 2nd birthday party. Jeff and I are the proud Godparents of twin girls who are six weeks younger than Finn. We attended their birthday party and enjoyed watching the little ones have all kinds of fun.
3. Lolo's 21st birthday party. One of our Super-Nannies turned 21 this past week. She invited me to her birthday party which consisted of tailgating and a Brewers' game. Out of the 30-or-so people in attendance, I was one of only 3 who was over the age of 30. I note that Lauren has a conspicuous dearth of middle-aged, single, male friends. I should have known that a 21 year-old's birthday party would not yield good results. Note to self: start hanging around the supper club and drinking more Sloe Gin. Oh well. The party was still fun.
4. Summerfest! America's largest outdoor music festival takes place in Milwaukee every summer and the Rabid Aardvarks were, again, invited to play on the Miller Stage on July 2nd. My law firm made the occasion an official "firm outing" so I was excited to perform for my coworkers and, of course, all my other friends who came (especially Mike & Regan, and Jeff!). Based upon how everything else is going, the rest of you should be getting your notice of the appearance and invitation to attend in approximately 3-4 weeks. (Ugh!)
5. Fireworks! My law firm is located in downtown Milwaukee just a couple of blocks from the shore of Lake Michigan. Every year, they open the top floor of the building so that employees and their families can have a front-row view of the city's main fireworks display. (They launch the fireworks off a barge in the harbor). I took Regan and Jack to the fireworks show. Because the building is so tall, the fireworks explode at eye-level only a couple of blocks away, so the show is really spectacular. The kids loved it. (Aubrey stayed home to watch Finn who cannot be trusted for obvious reasons on the top of a building).
6. Fourth of July! We celebrated the 4th of July, first, by going to my friend Mike's birthday party. He lives on a lake just west of Milwaukee, so the kids wore their swimming suits and Jack took his fishing pole and (I discovered later) a livewell full of leaches he planned to use as bait. (He's hard core). The kids ate and played and went on boat-rides around the lake. Aubrey even found a group of teenagers to attach herself to and my other friends who were in attendance were very generous in helping me with Finn so I could variously eat and keep an eye on everyone else. Finn was particularly impressed with the family's dog who he was very interested in so long as the dog remained more than 10 feet away. As soon as the dog showed the slightest sign of reciprocity or hinted at coming nearer, Finn would try to climb my leg like a lumberjack climbing a tree.
7. We were also excited to have family in town for the 4th of July. Jeff's first cousins and a friend came to Milwaukee for a mini-vacation to go to Summerfest and on the Booze Cruise ( a boat-tour of Milwaukee's breweries--isn't this a great city?). So, Aubrey and her cousin, Andrea, went to the Wauwatosa fireworks display while her cousin, John, and his friend came to my Rabid Aardvarks show in downtown Milwaukee. It was quite an event--I don't think we've ever had people crowd the stage like they did last night. And we did THREE encores. At the end of the night a drunk 25 year-old asked me to marry him. When I told him he was too young for me, he asked my age. I told him I was pushing 37. He sobered up almost immediately. When he admitted he was 25, I suggested that instead of marrying him, why don't I just babysit him and then have coffee with his mother?
8. Which brings us to today--We went to mass with the cousins and then to the cemetery to visit Jeff's grave. Then, Aubrey and her cousin, Andrea, went on a walk and got ice cream while Regan and Jack went on a fun bike ride with my friend Kevin. Meanwhile, Finn and I cleaned the kitchen and played outside.
And, of course, mixed in with all the above is the usual going to work, playing with friends, baseball camp, baseball games, band practice, etc. etc. and my minor attempts to keep the house stocked with food and diapers and in just enough order/cleanliness that we don't inadvertently incubate an army of wolf spiders.
So, that's the quick and dirty on this week. I'm sure I've forgotten something and I will try harder to motivate myself to connect with those of you who have reached out to us in both small ways (e-mails) and large ways (major life-event invitations). Until then, don't hesitate to check-in and thanks, as always, for reading. It makes all the difference in the world.
Kelly
UPDATE: I forgot to mention that July 2nd marked the 16th anniversary of the day Jeff asked me to marry him. July 2nd also happens to be Jeff's grandpa's birthday (Happy Birthday, Grandpa Pat) and his uncle's anniversary in the priesthood (Happy Anniversary, Bishop Tom!). Jeff bought an elaborate picnic basket with "real" plates, glasses, and silverware and fancy linens. He also arranged an assortment of sausages and cheese, fruit and wine and took me on a picnic at Holmes Lake in Lincoln Nebraska. After we ate, he read to me from a book of love poems (it wasn't as corny as it sounds . . .) and at the end of Shakespeare's 18th Sonnet, he pulled out a ring box and asked me to marry him. I accepted--we celebrated and then went home to his parents' house to announce the Big News. We were married the following May. It's strange to think that now I am the only person in the world who can tell that story and who remembers any details of it first-hand. And it's sad that I no longer recall what we talked about or any other surrounding details. Accordingly, I thought I should make an attempt to preserve what little I DO recall about the occasion for our kids' sake and before my budding senility deprives me any further!
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
I'm done taking Finn to restaurants.
Well, I'm pleased to announce that our new un-pet (as my Mom informs me) has survived long enough to merit a name. He/she (it's hard to tell . . .) shall henceforth be known as "Little Daddy." I don't know the etymology of the name--just that Regan picked it and confidently informed me of it when I asked if she had named the crayfish yet. So, "Little Daddy" it is.
In other news, I am closing the joint major credit cards Jeff and I shared in favor of one singular credit card in my name. I haven't applied for a credit card on my own since 1992. It is surprisingly difficult to transfer a joint card to a surviving spouse--it actually has to go through an "Estate Department" and all kinds of ridiculous bureaucracy. It's a lot easier to just close the account and open a new one. I don't know why it didn't occur to me before now to take care of this. I've already transferred all of our other financial accounts into my name. Oh well. I'm sure I'll discover more unfinished business, but in the meantime, our joint credit cards will be the next memento of Jeff to disappear forever.
Oh--I almost forgot: Finn got a rockin' mohawk today. Jack has traditionally had a mohawk in the summer, but opted out this year. Although, when I saw it (our nanny, Jenny, did the styling) I was surprised by how much Finn looks like Jeff did when he was going through whole brain radiation and he lost all of his hair except for a strip along the top that looked like a subtle mohawk. It was uncanny and I was a little taken aback. And it's hard to tell in pictures, but Terri--in person Finn looks A LOT like Jake (his first-cousin).
Right now Finn is in bed and shaking the crib rail so hard that it has fallen down and I've had to rig it so it will stay up despite his unbridled aggression. He has been completely bi-polar tonight--alternately sweet and naughty. Tonight was a rarity because I didn't have band practice, all the kids were home, and none of them had any games or play dates, so we decided to go out to dinner. Aubrey chose the Chancery in the village of Wauwatosa as our destination du jour. Once there, we were seated only one table over from the table where almost three years earlier we had sat with the kids during a special dinner to announce that I was pregnant with Finn. The kids' memories were sharp as they all recalled where each of them sat and who said what to whom. Jeff had said to the kids, "Mom and I have an announcement to make. What is the best thing that could ever happen to our family?" Regan said, "we get more popcorn?!" (the restaurant provides complementary popcorn). Jeff said, "No." And one of the kids said, "We're moving to a mansion?" at which point, Jeff decided to fill them in and said "No--we're going to have a baby!" They all squealed with excitement and Regan recalled that she tried to talk about the news in a loud but nonchalant way so that the waitress and other people around us would overhear her and think "Wow, they are going to get a new baby!"
I then noted that we never would have guessed at that time that Dad had almost exactly two years to live. (Way to ruin the mood, Mom!) So, it was a poignant dinner and the kids were very well-behaved with the exception of Finn. He started out so well. Normally, he resists sitting in a high chair in favor of wandering around the tables and crawling on and off my lap. But, tonight, he sat right down in his highchair and started coloring on the Kids' Menu. I should note, as an aside, that I was almost embarrassed to be seen in public with him. He had been swimming in the baby pool all day, so he smelled like a swamp. His new mohawk was askew from being crumpled under his sun hat all day. His clothes didn't match (red shirt, bright blue pants, green socks) and he insisted on wearing a pair of oversized women's sunglasses (ala Jackie O') throughout the meal. He looked absolutely ridiculous. As the hostess showed us to our table, we were seated near a table of eight older women who were clearly having some kind of meeting or regularly scheduled gathering. I thought they would call social services for sure, but they laughed at Finn and said how cute he was.
He sat like an angel until the food arrived. Then, on cue, he climbed out of the high chair and started assaulting me--climbing on and off me; laying in my lap; giving me kisses; slapping my face; kicking Aubrey. He was completely obnoxious to the point that I couldn't even eat (it took both hands and what little strength I had to keep him within a 3 square-feet radius of me). There were several times I felt like crying I was so exhausted and hungry and frustrated. Finally, Aubrey finished her food and took him out to the car to wait for the rest of us. Meanwhile, Regan and Jack entertained themselves by taking indulgent trips to the bathroom and I ate alone in the wake of the disaster the kids left (Aubrey accidentally spilled an entire glass of water--it went partially into my food and partially everywhere else) and we ate with the aftermath strewn across the table.
So, next time I see a single mother at a restaurant with her kids--I will not shoot her an evil stare. I will not avoid her gaze for fear I'll be swallowed by the plea for help and understanding in her eyes. I will just anonymously and without fanfare call the waitress over and discreetly offer to pay her bill. Because I know firsthand that she probably doesn't want to be there in the first place (it is much easier and cheaper to say home), but she thought it would be something nice and out of the ordinary to do with her kids. Besides, it's the closest thing she'll ever have to a "date" and she got home too late from work to entertain any reasonable likelihood of feeding her kids before 7:30 p.m., so she convinced herself (despite past experiences full of contraindications) that it won't be that bad and the kids will be good this time. She also thought it would be a good way to have a captive audience and a meaningful opportunity to talk to her kids about all the things she misses out on everyday like baseball camp and swimming in the baby pool and sleep-overs and the new Transformers movie. But, instead she didn't get to talk about any of those things because her baby freaked out and big kids lost interest. And then the baby dropped part of her food on the floor and her two middle kids begged for various bites and portions of her food (because it looked way more exotic and expensive than their grilled cheese sandwiches), and before she realized the bargain she had made (under duress of the baby acting like a complete nut and the uncomfortable pangs of hunger and lightheadedness) she had allowed her children to sample most of her food, so she simply packed up the rest and brought it home and someone (not her) will get to eat it tomorrow. And it only adds insult to injury that she then has to pay $40.00 (plus a $10 tip as a tacit apology to the waitress, because she was once a waitress too and knows just how much they hate waiting on families with a bunch of kids, and especially ones with babies that drop a bunch of food on the floor and kids that spill drinks . . .)--and, anyway, she shouldn't have to then pay $50.00 for the whole experience. Oh, and before I pay her bill for her, I will send her a Pina Colada.
So, how was your day?
Love, Kelly
In other news, I am closing the joint major credit cards Jeff and I shared in favor of one singular credit card in my name. I haven't applied for a credit card on my own since 1992. It is surprisingly difficult to transfer a joint card to a surviving spouse--it actually has to go through an "Estate Department" and all kinds of ridiculous bureaucracy. It's a lot easier to just close the account and open a new one. I don't know why it didn't occur to me before now to take care of this. I've already transferred all of our other financial accounts into my name. Oh well. I'm sure I'll discover more unfinished business, but in the meantime, our joint credit cards will be the next memento of Jeff to disappear forever.
Oh--I almost forgot: Finn got a rockin' mohawk today. Jack has traditionally had a mohawk in the summer, but opted out this year. Although, when I saw it (our nanny, Jenny, did the styling) I was surprised by how much Finn looks like Jeff did when he was going through whole brain radiation and he lost all of his hair except for a strip along the top that looked like a subtle mohawk. It was uncanny and I was a little taken aback. And it's hard to tell in pictures, but Terri--in person Finn looks A LOT like Jake (his first-cousin).
Right now Finn is in bed and shaking the crib rail so hard that it has fallen down and I've had to rig it so it will stay up despite his unbridled aggression. He has been completely bi-polar tonight--alternately sweet and naughty. Tonight was a rarity because I didn't have band practice, all the kids were home, and none of them had any games or play dates, so we decided to go out to dinner. Aubrey chose the Chancery in the village of Wauwatosa as our destination du jour. Once there, we were seated only one table over from the table where almost three years earlier we had sat with the kids during a special dinner to announce that I was pregnant with Finn. The kids' memories were sharp as they all recalled where each of them sat and who said what to whom. Jeff had said to the kids, "Mom and I have an announcement to make. What is the best thing that could ever happen to our family?" Regan said, "we get more popcorn?!" (the restaurant provides complementary popcorn). Jeff said, "No." And one of the kids said, "We're moving to a mansion?" at which point, Jeff decided to fill them in and said "No--we're going to have a baby!" They all squealed with excitement and Regan recalled that she tried to talk about the news in a loud but nonchalant way so that the waitress and other people around us would overhear her and think "Wow, they are going to get a new baby!"
I then noted that we never would have guessed at that time that Dad had almost exactly two years to live. (Way to ruin the mood, Mom!) So, it was a poignant dinner and the kids were very well-behaved with the exception of Finn. He started out so well. Normally, he resists sitting in a high chair in favor of wandering around the tables and crawling on and off my lap. But, tonight, he sat right down in his highchair and started coloring on the Kids' Menu. I should note, as an aside, that I was almost embarrassed to be seen in public with him. He had been swimming in the baby pool all day, so he smelled like a swamp. His new mohawk was askew from being crumpled under his sun hat all day. His clothes didn't match (red shirt, bright blue pants, green socks) and he insisted on wearing a pair of oversized women's sunglasses (ala Jackie O') throughout the meal. He looked absolutely ridiculous. As the hostess showed us to our table, we were seated near a table of eight older women who were clearly having some kind of meeting or regularly scheduled gathering. I thought they would call social services for sure, but they laughed at Finn and said how cute he was.
He sat like an angel until the food arrived. Then, on cue, he climbed out of the high chair and started assaulting me--climbing on and off me; laying in my lap; giving me kisses; slapping my face; kicking Aubrey. He was completely obnoxious to the point that I couldn't even eat (it took both hands and what little strength I had to keep him within a 3 square-feet radius of me). There were several times I felt like crying I was so exhausted and hungry and frustrated. Finally, Aubrey finished her food and took him out to the car to wait for the rest of us. Meanwhile, Regan and Jack entertained themselves by taking indulgent trips to the bathroom and I ate alone in the wake of the disaster the kids left (Aubrey accidentally spilled an entire glass of water--it went partially into my food and partially everywhere else) and we ate with the aftermath strewn across the table.
So, next time I see a single mother at a restaurant with her kids--I will not shoot her an evil stare. I will not avoid her gaze for fear I'll be swallowed by the plea for help and understanding in her eyes. I will just anonymously and without fanfare call the waitress over and discreetly offer to pay her bill. Because I know firsthand that she probably doesn't want to be there in the first place (it is much easier and cheaper to say home), but she thought it would be something nice and out of the ordinary to do with her kids. Besides, it's the closest thing she'll ever have to a "date" and she got home too late from work to entertain any reasonable likelihood of feeding her kids before 7:30 p.m., so she convinced herself (despite past experiences full of contraindications) that it won't be that bad and the kids will be good this time. She also thought it would be a good way to have a captive audience and a meaningful opportunity to talk to her kids about all the things she misses out on everyday like baseball camp and swimming in the baby pool and sleep-overs and the new Transformers movie. But, instead she didn't get to talk about any of those things because her baby freaked out and big kids lost interest. And then the baby dropped part of her food on the floor and her two middle kids begged for various bites and portions of her food (because it looked way more exotic and expensive than their grilled cheese sandwiches), and before she realized the bargain she had made (under duress of the baby acting like a complete nut and the uncomfortable pangs of hunger and lightheadedness) she had allowed her children to sample most of her food, so she simply packed up the rest and brought it home and someone (not her) will get to eat it tomorrow. And it only adds insult to injury that she then has to pay $40.00 (plus a $10 tip as a tacit apology to the waitress, because she was once a waitress too and knows just how much they hate waiting on families with a bunch of kids, and especially ones with babies that drop a bunch of food on the floor and kids that spill drinks . . .)--and, anyway, she shouldn't have to then pay $50.00 for the whole experience. Oh, and before I pay her bill for her, I will send her a Pina Colada.
So, how was your day?
Love, Kelly
Thursday, June 18, 2009
My life this week: Colognes and Crayfish
So, what's new with the Dodd Squad? Nothing. But I can probably make it sound like "something." So, here it goes . . .
Jack's baseball season is in full swing. He's missed at least two games due to the flu and was inclined to miss another game this morning due to an unrelenting leg cramp, but I made him fight it/walk it off and he played a big game at Helfaer (pronounced "hell-fire"--cool, huh?) Field this morning. Helfaer Field is a little league "stadium" in the parking lot of Miller Park (where the Brewers play). It's pretty cool. Jack was especially impressed by the announcers who called the game and introduced the players as they were up to bat. He also got a RBI, so he was excited. Afterwards, they had a big cook out with burgers and brats (Jack's favorite). The nannies took lots of pictures, so I'll try to post some after they send them to me. Unfortunately, the game was at 9:00 a.m., so I was at work and had to miss it.
The other big news at our house is . . . We got a pet! But don't get too excited (Gretchen). It's only a crayfish. Regan's class raised a handful of crayfish and her teacher held a minor lottery to determine which five lucky students would get to bring one home at the end of the school year. Regan was one of the winners! She was soooo excited. The crayfish looks like a mini-lobster and even shows some personality. Good thing I don't like seafood because there is something about it that makes it look kind of yummy. I almost don't trust myself around it knowing that it is edible.
Finn is absolutely fascinated by it and loves to rest his little chin on the counter and watch it hide in its castle. It has quite a little pad--water, fluorescent rocks, and a groovy tie-dyed castle to match, all housed in a converted fish tank (RIP "Twinkle Toes"). I don't think the crayfish has a name. I'm sure it will acquire one eventually--a condition-precedent being sustained survival. In other words--we'll give it a name if it lives longer than a week.
[Twice since I've been typing this, I've heard noises out by my garage that sound like someone dragging something along my driveway. Both times, I've gotten up to investigate and can see nothing suspicious. I figure it is either the neighborhood raccoon scuttling around my downspout, or it is a drug-crazed murderer breaking into my house. So, now I'm trying to decide if I should (a) ignore it and keep typing, (b) go stare at my garage/driveway until I hear it again, or (c) put on my ninja suit and kick some A-double-dollar-signs. OK, I've made my decision: I'm going to keep typing. The edible unnamed crayfish will protect me. After all, it has a very menacing stare and its likely tastiness could be an underestimated distraction.]
You'll be pleased to know my love life is improving: Lately, People magazine has had more cologne ads than usual. I also just received their annual "Hottest Summer Bachelors" issue. However, these bachelors are no fun to look at--most of them are under 30 which is way too young for me. They just make me want to listen to Fall Out Boy and drop them off at the mall.
[I just discovered where that sound is coming from: it's thunder! Now, it's getting really loud and scary. I love it. I absolutely LOVE raging thunderstorms. Yes! Yes! Yes! I am so excited. Don't laugh--please afford me whatever small pleasures I can find].
Well, I'm afraid I have very little to complain about this week, so I'll keep it short. But before I go--a few announcements:
Congratulations on your wedding this weekend, Martha! We wish we could be there!
And Happy Father's Day to all the Dads out there and especially to my Dad, Rick, and also to Gary, Jim, John, Grandpa Johnnie, Grandpa Pat, Tony, "Step-Dad, Mark," and Uncle Mike (who will really be taking one for the team on Sunday!).
Finally, on Father's Day, especially, please remember my Jeff and Jackie's husband, Bill, who died of Melanoma this week leaving her widowed with a three-year old son. Jackie, on Father's Day I will raise my Alien head in a toast to you (and to Jenni and to Irene and to all the other Moms who now have to also be Dads . . . sigh).
Much Love,
Kelly
Jack's baseball season is in full swing. He's missed at least two games due to the flu and was inclined to miss another game this morning due to an unrelenting leg cramp, but I made him fight it/walk it off and he played a big game at Helfaer (pronounced "hell-fire"--cool, huh?) Field this morning. Helfaer Field is a little league "stadium" in the parking lot of Miller Park (where the Brewers play). It's pretty cool. Jack was especially impressed by the announcers who called the game and introduced the players as they were up to bat. He also got a RBI, so he was excited. Afterwards, they had a big cook out with burgers and brats (Jack's favorite). The nannies took lots of pictures, so I'll try to post some after they send them to me. Unfortunately, the game was at 9:00 a.m., so I was at work and had to miss it.
The other big news at our house is . . . We got a pet! But don't get too excited (Gretchen). It's only a crayfish. Regan's class raised a handful of crayfish and her teacher held a minor lottery to determine which five lucky students would get to bring one home at the end of the school year. Regan was one of the winners! She was soooo excited. The crayfish looks like a mini-lobster and even shows some personality. Good thing I don't like seafood because there is something about it that makes it look kind of yummy. I almost don't trust myself around it knowing that it is edible.
Finn is absolutely fascinated by it and loves to rest his little chin on the counter and watch it hide in its castle. It has quite a little pad--water, fluorescent rocks, and a groovy tie-dyed castle to match, all housed in a converted fish tank (RIP "Twinkle Toes"). I don't think the crayfish has a name. I'm sure it will acquire one eventually--a condition-precedent being sustained survival. In other words--we'll give it a name if it lives longer than a week.
[Twice since I've been typing this, I've heard noises out by my garage that sound like someone dragging something along my driveway. Both times, I've gotten up to investigate and can see nothing suspicious. I figure it is either the neighborhood raccoon scuttling around my downspout, or it is a drug-crazed murderer breaking into my house. So, now I'm trying to decide if I should (a) ignore it and keep typing, (b) go stare at my garage/driveway until I hear it again, or (c) put on my ninja suit and kick some A-double-dollar-signs. OK, I've made my decision: I'm going to keep typing. The edible unnamed crayfish will protect me. After all, it has a very menacing stare and its likely tastiness could be an underestimated distraction.]
You'll be pleased to know my love life is improving: Lately, People magazine has had more cologne ads than usual. I also just received their annual "Hottest Summer Bachelors" issue. However, these bachelors are no fun to look at--most of them are under 30 which is way too young for me. They just make me want to listen to Fall Out Boy and drop them off at the mall.
[I just discovered where that sound is coming from: it's thunder! Now, it's getting really loud and scary. I love it. I absolutely LOVE raging thunderstorms. Yes! Yes! Yes! I am so excited. Don't laugh--please afford me whatever small pleasures I can find].
Well, I'm afraid I have very little to complain about this week, so I'll keep it short. But before I go--a few announcements:
Congratulations on your wedding this weekend, Martha! We wish we could be there!
And Happy Father's Day to all the Dads out there and especially to my Dad, Rick, and also to Gary, Jim, John, Grandpa Johnnie, Grandpa Pat, Tony, "Step-Dad, Mark," and Uncle Mike (who will really be taking one for the team on Sunday!).
Finally, on Father's Day, especially, please remember my Jeff and Jackie's husband, Bill, who died of Melanoma this week leaving her widowed with a three-year old son. Jackie, on Father's Day I will raise my Alien head in a toast to you (and to Jenni and to Irene and to all the other Moms who now have to also be Dads . . . sigh).
Much Love,
Kelly
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Yes! I Finally Graduated Kindergarten!!
Hey everybody (:
It's been a while since I've posted a blog, so I thought I would write one now since I'm done with school and homework and everything!
Okay, so... where to start? I guess I'll start by saying I'm very happy it's summer and, for those of you who don't already know, I graduated junior high. It's not that big of a deal, but it was kind of cool because I got to wear a dress and I got gifts and what not, haha!
Okay, so... where to start? I guess I'll start by saying I'm very happy it's summer and, for those of you who don't already know, I graduated junior high. It's not that big of a deal, but it was kind of cool because I got to wear a dress and I got gifts and what not, haha!
There was a promotion ceremony at school on Friday, so my grandparents (Mary and Gary :) ) came to that with my mom. (The picture on the top left is after the ceremony outside of my school with a few good friends.)Then I spent the rest of Friday at promotion parties with my friends! It was a great way to start my summer :D
Today the graduation festivities continued! I spent all morning cleaning my room-it was a disaster-but spent my evening at my best friend's graduation party. It was a family party but she invited me and our other best friends and we had a blast! Ironically enough, the party's theme was us going into highschool, but we might as well have been graduating kindergarten since the party consisted of drawing a chalk mural on the driveway that said "Freshman '09," playing an epic game of hide and seek, and of course, having a water fight! It was an incredibly fun even though it probably just sounds silly to all of you, haha :P
So yep... that's pretty much all that has happened to me lately. In other news, I'm pretty sure everyone in our household is back to being in good health, which is good. Plus, my dad's parents have been here for the past week, so that has been extremely fun to have them around :) By the way, I forgot to mention it earlier, but the second picture (the one on top) is just me and my best friend, Rose, in Spanish class on the last day of school before out promotion ceremony. Anyway, I should go because even though it's summer now, I do still have some things to do before I go to sleep and it's already 11:45 and I'm tired! So goodnight, love you all!
--Aubrey Kate
Sunday, June 7, 2009
An Update . . . At Last
Tuesday, June 9th, is the 20th anniversary of the day I met Jeff. (It is also my Dad's birthday--Happy Birthday, Dad! And you're welcome, Terri, Jim, and John, for the gentle reminder! Ha!).
Jeff and I had both been selected by our respective high schools to attend an exclusive 4-day long leadership conference at Creighton University in Omaha, Nebraska. It was called the Hugh O'Brien Youth Leadership Foundation and was originated by actor, Hugh O'Brien, who most famously played Wyatt Earp. There was a dance on the last night of the conference and I remember going up to a group of three guys who were standing near the pop (remember, this is Nebraska--there is no "soda") machines and saying indiscriminately, "do any of you want to dance?"
Jeff was standing in the middle of the three and stepped forward and said, "sure." I still have a mental picture of his name tag etched in my memory. It read "Jeff Dodd" and underneath his name, "Lincoln Pius X." I had never heard of Lincoln Pius X high school, so I asked him about it. As we danced and talked, the clouds broke apart, the sun appeared and the angels sang. We danced the rest of the night together and spent the entire evening comparing our uncanny similarities (which, in hindsight seem very superficial, but at the time seemed to be clear and convincing indicators we were meant to be together): We both liked U2; we were both the oldest child in our families; we both had two (minor) car accidents on the same day-neither of which were our fault.
So, we liked each other right away and remained constant pen pals (we lived 280 miles apart) for the next 3 years--despite my incessant scheming to become his girlfriend--and never officially dated until we were in college.
It's interesting to think about the ways in which people influence each other and the roles they play (sometimes unwittingly) in others' lives. Early on, I revered Hugh O'Brien for his role as accidental matchmaker. I thought often and with gratitude about how I would have never met Jeff if Hugh O'Brien hadn't found success as an actor and if he hadn't been inspired to create his foundation, etc. etc. I even wrote Hugh a letter early in our marriage to tell him our story and to let him know the role he played in bringing Aubrey Kate into the world.
Ironically, I later became friends with Hugh as I was part of a movement to resurrect his leadership organization here in Wisconsin. He would call me at home or at work and would usually try to trick the receptionist into announcing that "Wyatt Earp" or "Gene Autry" was on the phone. She fell for it every time. And each time, I knew it was Hugh being funny. I felt such a debt to Hugh for the impact he had had on my life and I attributed having my husband and children to him--at least a little bit. I have pictures of Jeff and I and the kids with Hugh on a trip he made to Wisconsin. I used to think, "Wow. If it weren't for Hugh O'Brien none of this would have ever happened to me." However, it cuts both ways, because I can now say "If it weren't for Hugh O'Brien none of this would have ever happened to me."
Of course, I would never wish to go back in time or to take it all back. I would never wish for an alternate universe of no Jeff and no kids. But, sometimes I can't help but think of things like that. And speaking of universes: Confidential to the Universe/Fate/Karma/Whateveryoucallit: Making my car-stereo play "At Last" as I was pulling into the cemetery to visit my dead husband was very uncool. You owe me. Big Time!
For those of you who haven't heard the song "At Last" by Etta James, it is one of the most romantic love songs of all time. Here are the lyrics, which you will agree are singularly inappropriate for setting the mood as you stand over your dead husband:
At last, my love has come along
My lonely days are over
And life is like a song
Oh, yeah, at last
The skies above are blue
My heart was wrapped up in clovers
The night I looked at you
I found a dream that I could speak to
A dream that I can call my own
I found a thrill to rest my cheek to
A thrill that I have never known
Oh, yeah when you smile, you smile
Oh, and then the spell was cast
And here we are in heaven
For you are mine
At last
So that really topped off my week. As you know, I have been nursing general feelings of discouragement and ennui. Earlier this week, when I was lamenting my loneliness, a well-meaning friend recommended that I take a more aggressive approach to dating. So, I got all dressed up and went to the two tried-and-true places I can really be myself and shine, but, alas there were no attractive single men in my dishwasher or laundry basket. Ha!
In other news this week, Jack came down with the flu (again). This time, the poor guy had it bad. He missed three days of school, baseball practice, and a baseball game. I did my best to catch it, but came up empty handed. So, I'm getting dangerously low on my excuses for avoiding the laundry, housecleaning, grocery shopping, bill-paying, and any number of lesser chores I uncomfortably feel staring at me out of the corner of my eye.
Meanwhile, Finn has decided that, for now, his penchant for cleanliness can take a backseat to his new obsession: opulent comfort. Diaper changes used to be all-business around here. I was the sole arbiter of the time and location and he was merely along for the ride. Now, HE tells ME when he wants his diaper changed and sets the stage for a spa-like/entertainment experience. Princess Finn must now lay his head on a fuzzy pillow (that says "Cutie" on it, by the way). He places it strategically on the floor where he has an unobstructed view of our woods ("TREES!!!") and then while I "do the honors" he requires my participation in a game of Peek-a-Boo. When we are done, we ceremoniously use the anti-bacterial gel and return to our labors refreshed and reawakened. And when I say "refreshed and reawakened" what I actually mean is "slightly annoyed by the fact diaper-changes now take twice as long because of all the preparation and repositioning Finn practices in order to make things "just right" before he will surrender to the task at hand."
Also this week--the kids will finally get out of school on June 12th. On that same day, Aubrey will graduate from 8th grade. I really can't believe that I am old enough to have a child in high school. That is, until I look in the mirror.
And finally:
Thank you, Scott, for calling this week. Hearing from you made my day.
Thank you, Mike, for your lunch-hour therapy.
Thanks for checking in, Garth--I have nearly completed my Magnum Opus for you, now I just need to craft a nifty cover circa 1989!
Thank you, Tracy in CA, for befriending me. You will live to regret it. That is my solemn vow. And I will pit my kid against your kid any day when it comes to embarrassing their mother with their impressive Sir Mix A lot repertoire. I am not proud of this (publicly). (Secretly, I'm a little bit proud).
And last but not least: Anne--Thank you for filling my window boxes and for planting around Jeff's grave. I will do my best to nurture the flowers so that all your hard work doesn't go to waste. This last statement should in no way reassure you. The last time I did my "best" at gardening, a bunch of Special Olympians gave me a hug. Just sayin' . . .
Love to you all,
Kelly
P.S. (June 8, 2009): This just in . . . Finn is officially working toward becoming a first-rate Front Man. We had a Dance Party last night and for the first time, he pretended to sing into an imaginary microphone. Even better--he did it while standing on a living room chair as his makeshift "stage." (I was so proud!) Then he closed the show with the usual grand finale: breakdancing to "Hips Don't Lie" by Shakira. I wish I had a video camera--it was quite a spectacle.
Oh, and I forgot a very important "Thank You" to Annie and Dave for bringing Tristan over to play with Finn. It was great having you around for the evening and I look forward to next time!
Jeff and I had both been selected by our respective high schools to attend an exclusive 4-day long leadership conference at Creighton University in Omaha, Nebraska. It was called the Hugh O'Brien Youth Leadership Foundation and was originated by actor, Hugh O'Brien, who most famously played Wyatt Earp. There was a dance on the last night of the conference and I remember going up to a group of three guys who were standing near the pop (remember, this is Nebraska--there is no "soda") machines and saying indiscriminately, "do any of you want to dance?"
Jeff was standing in the middle of the three and stepped forward and said, "sure." I still have a mental picture of his name tag etched in my memory. It read "Jeff Dodd" and underneath his name, "Lincoln Pius X." I had never heard of Lincoln Pius X high school, so I asked him about it. As we danced and talked, the clouds broke apart, the sun appeared and the angels sang. We danced the rest of the night together and spent the entire evening comparing our uncanny similarities (which, in hindsight seem very superficial, but at the time seemed to be clear and convincing indicators we were meant to be together): We both liked U2; we were both the oldest child in our families; we both had two (minor) car accidents on the same day-neither of which were our fault.
So, we liked each other right away and remained constant pen pals (we lived 280 miles apart) for the next 3 years--despite my incessant scheming to become his girlfriend--and never officially dated until we were in college.
It's interesting to think about the ways in which people influence each other and the roles they play (sometimes unwittingly) in others' lives. Early on, I revered Hugh O'Brien for his role as accidental matchmaker. I thought often and with gratitude about how I would have never met Jeff if Hugh O'Brien hadn't found success as an actor and if he hadn't been inspired to create his foundation, etc. etc. I even wrote Hugh a letter early in our marriage to tell him our story and to let him know the role he played in bringing Aubrey Kate into the world.
Ironically, I later became friends with Hugh as I was part of a movement to resurrect his leadership organization here in Wisconsin. He would call me at home or at work and would usually try to trick the receptionist into announcing that "Wyatt Earp" or "Gene Autry" was on the phone. She fell for it every time. And each time, I knew it was Hugh being funny. I felt such a debt to Hugh for the impact he had had on my life and I attributed having my husband and children to him--at least a little bit. I have pictures of Jeff and I and the kids with Hugh on a trip he made to Wisconsin. I used to think, "Wow. If it weren't for Hugh O'Brien none of this would have ever happened to me." However, it cuts both ways, because I can now say "If it weren't for Hugh O'Brien none of this would have ever happened to me."
Of course, I would never wish to go back in time or to take it all back. I would never wish for an alternate universe of no Jeff and no kids. But, sometimes I can't help but think of things like that. And speaking of universes: Confidential to the Universe/Fate/Karma/Whateveryoucallit: Making my car-stereo play "At Last" as I was pulling into the cemetery to visit my dead husband was very uncool. You owe me. Big Time!
For those of you who haven't heard the song "At Last" by Etta James, it is one of the most romantic love songs of all time. Here are the lyrics, which you will agree are singularly inappropriate for setting the mood as you stand over your dead husband:
At last, my love has come along
My lonely days are over
And life is like a song
Oh, yeah, at last
The skies above are blue
My heart was wrapped up in clovers
The night I looked at you
I found a dream that I could speak to
A dream that I can call my own
I found a thrill to rest my cheek to
A thrill that I have never known
Oh, yeah when you smile, you smile
Oh, and then the spell was cast
And here we are in heaven
For you are mine
At last
So that really topped off my week. As you know, I have been nursing general feelings of discouragement and ennui. Earlier this week, when I was lamenting my loneliness, a well-meaning friend recommended that I take a more aggressive approach to dating. So, I got all dressed up and went to the two tried-and-true places I can really be myself and shine, but, alas there were no attractive single men in my dishwasher or laundry basket. Ha!
In other news this week, Jack came down with the flu (again). This time, the poor guy had it bad. He missed three days of school, baseball practice, and a baseball game. I did my best to catch it, but came up empty handed. So, I'm getting dangerously low on my excuses for avoiding the laundry, housecleaning, grocery shopping, bill-paying, and any number of lesser chores I uncomfortably feel staring at me out of the corner of my eye.
Meanwhile, Finn has decided that, for now, his penchant for cleanliness can take a backseat to his new obsession: opulent comfort. Diaper changes used to be all-business around here. I was the sole arbiter of the time and location and he was merely along for the ride. Now, HE tells ME when he wants his diaper changed and sets the stage for a spa-like/entertainment experience. Princess Finn must now lay his head on a fuzzy pillow (that says "Cutie" on it, by the way). He places it strategically on the floor where he has an unobstructed view of our woods ("TREES!!!") and then while I "do the honors" he requires my participation in a game of Peek-a-Boo. When we are done, we ceremoniously use the anti-bacterial gel and return to our labors refreshed and reawakened. And when I say "refreshed and reawakened" what I actually mean is "slightly annoyed by the fact diaper-changes now take twice as long because of all the preparation and repositioning Finn practices in order to make things "just right" before he will surrender to the task at hand."
Also this week--the kids will finally get out of school on June 12th. On that same day, Aubrey will graduate from 8th grade. I really can't believe that I am old enough to have a child in high school. That is, until I look in the mirror.
And finally:
Thank you, Scott, for calling this week. Hearing from you made my day.
Thank you, Mike, for your lunch-hour therapy.
Thanks for checking in, Garth--I have nearly completed my Magnum Opus for you, now I just need to craft a nifty cover circa 1989!
Thank you, Tracy in CA, for befriending me. You will live to regret it. That is my solemn vow. And I will pit my kid against your kid any day when it comes to embarrassing their mother with their impressive Sir Mix A lot repertoire. I am not proud of this (publicly). (Secretly, I'm a little bit proud).
And last but not least: Anne--Thank you for filling my window boxes and for planting around Jeff's grave. I will do my best to nurture the flowers so that all your hard work doesn't go to waste. This last statement should in no way reassure you. The last time I did my "best" at gardening, a bunch of Special Olympians gave me a hug. Just sayin' . . .
Love to you all,
Kelly
P.S. (June 8, 2009): This just in . . . Finn is officially working toward becoming a first-rate Front Man. We had a Dance Party last night and for the first time, he pretended to sing into an imaginary microphone. Even better--he did it while standing on a living room chair as his makeshift "stage." (I was so proud!) Then he closed the show with the usual grand finale: breakdancing to "Hips Don't Lie" by Shakira. I wish I had a video camera--it was quite a spectacle.
Oh, and I forgot a very important "Thank You" to Annie and Dave for bringing Tristan over to play with Finn. It was great having you around for the evening and I look forward to next time!
Monday, June 1, 2009
Untitled
I'm back. Sorry it's been a while since my last post. I've hit a rough patch and don't know what to say that won't offend you, alienate you, or bore you. In sum, I'm discouraged. I'm lonely. I'm tired. And, I'm achy. I could go on for days about all the gory details and although I'm sure it would be very exciting and entertaining for all of you--I've already told all of it to just about everyone who will listen and the worst of it is: not many people do. At least not without hijacking the conversation and telling me all about their own problems. Oh well. I know I am a terrible listener--the worst, as a matter of fact. So, I really can't complain. I should work harder to listen to others. I wonder how many times people reached out to me for help and I wasn't paying attention? I wonder how many times I blew someone off or gave them the impression I didn't care when they were trying to share something important? I wonder how often people just needed my attention? I hate to think of what I missed out on and all the opportunities I lost.
So, I'll spare you anymore of my whining and self-pity and give you the low-down on what the kids have been up to. Jack is playing baseball and is on a really great team with lots of parent involvement and a good coach, so he has been doing really well and is having lots of fun. Regan is also playing soccer and has enjoyed playing with her friends on the team. Jack has his end-of-the-year Boy Scout picnic tomorrow night and Aubrey has her year-end Chorus Concert--sounds like they have some tricks up their sleeves, so it should be a fun show! Finn told me he loved me tonight for the first time--by himself and without being prompted. That's a good note to end on, so I think I'll keep it short tonight.
Peace,
Kelly
So, I'll spare you anymore of my whining and self-pity and give you the low-down on what the kids have been up to. Jack is playing baseball and is on a really great team with lots of parent involvement and a good coach, so he has been doing really well and is having lots of fun. Regan is also playing soccer and has enjoyed playing with her friends on the team. Jack has his end-of-the-year Boy Scout picnic tomorrow night and Aubrey has her year-end Chorus Concert--sounds like they have some tricks up their sleeves, so it should be a fun show! Finn told me he loved me tonight for the first time--by himself and without being prompted. That's a good note to end on, so I think I'll keep it short tonight.
Peace,
Kelly
Monday, May 25, 2009
"Memorial Day Weekend: 4-inch heels, the Box, and a Gorilla-Dog"
Well, I survived May 21st. Thank you to those of you who e-mailed or called. I welcomed every good thought and sentiment, but I'm glad it's over. The highlight of my day was lunch with my paralegal/emergency contact/work-wife, Liz. She bought me a bottle of Malibu Rum for the occasion. (She knows me so well!). The other highlight was band practice. It's hard to feel bad when Annie and I are "choreographing" our big show-stopping numbers. (Side note to Annie: Those 4-inch heels I wore on Saturday kicked my A-double-dollarsigns. I'm afraid I'm losing my mojo. I'm STILL sore and I didn't even wear them all the way through the first set. I think I'll wear them to work tomorrow just to show'em who's boss!).
OK--continuing the weekend recap: Friday night, my sister, Terri, and her family arrived from Nebraska. She and her husband have three little boys ages 6, 4, and 5 months. So, needless to say, Jack and Regan have been in Heaven. Jack has been running wild with his cousins, Jake and Nolan, and Regan has been fawning over 5 month-old Bennet. Terri and her husband, Ben, came to part of my Rabid Aardvarks show on Saturday night. They are the first and only members of my family to see me perform with the band. They claim to have liked it. But, please recall that my sister is deaf in one ear . . .
Before the show, my sister mentioned that she was excited to do some new things this weekend and to "step outside the box." I said, "does that mean you'll get up on stage and sing with me?" She recoiled and said, "that would be like stepping outside my box, climbing into another box, and then stepping outside that box. So--No!!" Terri sings at least as well as I do, and she went to comedy school at Second City in Chicago, so it surprises me she doesn't like to perform. Oh well, even though she and my brothers are absolutely hilarious and can easily single me out as the least funny member of the family, I am the biggest ham by a long shot. Not one of them holds a candle to my complete and utter lack of all discretion, shame, and sense of propriety. I think I was born outside the box.
Sunday was rough because I was so worn out from the show and my pain-inducing high heels. I don't remember Sunday, so I'm going to skip to today. Oh wait--I just remembered why I blocked out Sunday: the ill-fated picnic!
We did do something "fun" on Sunday. Or that was the idea, anyway. I thought it would be a good idea to take my out-of-town guests to the lakefront for a picnic so the kids could run around and the adults could converse. As usual--my best laid plans went awry. Despite my general malaise and sleep deprivation, I made a delightful feast of turkey/avocado/bacon wraps, homemade pasta salad (my secret recipe), cookies, etc. for a late afternoon picnic. After everything was made and packed and after all the Frisbees, strollers, diaper bags, and children were loaded into the car, we arrived at the lakefront to find the annual kite exhibition in full-swing (Yay!) and thirty mile-an-hour winds coupled with a temperature of 56 degrees (Boo Hiss!). What kind of idiot doesn't look outside the freaking window before hauling everyone and everything across town for a "picnic?" Apparently, the kind of idiot that was born outside the box.
Once we got there, we unloaded long enough to realize it was all a terrible mistake. We went ahead and ate our food in record time-- Each calorie we consumed, we immediately burned-off trying to shiver ourselves warm. It was a totally wasted meal. We huddled together and downed our uncomfortably cold wraps while we talked with anticipation about how warm it would be once we got back in the car. Finn ignored the food and pushed his own stroller around in an effort to keep warm--all the while numb to the steady stream of snot frozen to his upper lip. He did provide a momentary distraction from our suffering though when he fled in horror from a huge black dog on a leash that came past our picnic site. As he ran in an arc inside an invisible 20-foot perimeter around the dog, he was wild-eyed and yelling, "Mommy! Monkey! Monkeeeeey!" Then, as if to simultaneously lend emphasis and clarify, he said, "Oooh, oooh, Ah, ah ah" (which is his best imitation of a "monkey" sound and one that he makes when we read a gorilla book he has). He was plainly convinced that the dog was a gorilla, and from his perspective, it wasn't a bad guess. This dog was a mammoth--with a big face and long black fur. Poor Finn. Imagine--one minute, you're mindlessly pushing your stroller with a snotty nose, and the next minute you are confronted by a gorilla. I would have screamed for my mommy too!
Today, brought more fun--the kids played in the yard and we grilled out for Memorial Day. We all visited Jeff's grave and then took the kids swimming. Finn was in rare form--swimming, racing, chasing, and having a royal blast. We then had pizza for dinner and I was once again reminded that Finn is undeniably the son of Jeff Dodd. Jeff loved pizza. Valentino's pizza in particular, but Pizza Hut was a viable substitute. When Finn heard us talking about ordering pizza, he chimed in and lobbied: "Pizza!! Pizza!!" When we picked-up the pizza, he begged to eat it in the car. I told him "no," but that he had clearly inherited "Daddy's pizza gene" and he sweetly repeated, "Daddy-pizza- gene." Then he washed down a big piece of pizza with apoo joose and was ready for bed.
Jack also has recently adopted one of Jeff's dominant traits. Jack has apparently inherited Jeff's "whistling gene." Jeff used to whistle all the time--while he washed dishes, while he worked in the yard--I don't even think he realized how often he did it. And, now, Jack has the same habit. The first time I really took notice, it caught me off guard. I thought, "Ah Ha! My sign has arrived at last! . . . Oh, wait. It's just Jack. Jack???" And, sure enough--little Jack can whistle like a pro! It's sweet and I love hearing it.
In other news, this weekend--Regan went to Girl Scout camp on Saturday night and spent the night in cabins in the woods on a lake with her troop. She had a great time. Jack will get his "official" baseball uniform tomorrow. He is sooo excited. Aubrey has been enjoying all the middle school "lasts:" the last Pius Dance; the last ACAL; etc. So, it's been a full weekend, but lots of fun. In addition to everything else we did, I'm exhausted from the constant undercurrent of laundry, dishes, and general picking-up that goes with 4 kids and 5 guests, so I'm going to call it a night! Thanks for checking in. Come back soon!
[And a very special "Congratulations" to Katie and Kevin! Wow, Kevin--my hat's off to you. You pulled off an amazing proposal! We wish you both the best of luck!]
Kelly et al.
OK--continuing the weekend recap: Friday night, my sister, Terri, and her family arrived from Nebraska. She and her husband have three little boys ages 6, 4, and 5 months. So, needless to say, Jack and Regan have been in Heaven. Jack has been running wild with his cousins, Jake and Nolan, and Regan has been fawning over 5 month-old Bennet. Terri and her husband, Ben, came to part of my Rabid Aardvarks show on Saturday night. They are the first and only members of my family to see me perform with the band. They claim to have liked it. But, please recall that my sister is deaf in one ear . . .
Before the show, my sister mentioned that she was excited to do some new things this weekend and to "step outside the box." I said, "does that mean you'll get up on stage and sing with me?" She recoiled and said, "that would be like stepping outside my box, climbing into another box, and then stepping outside that box. So--No!!" Terri sings at least as well as I do, and she went to comedy school at Second City in Chicago, so it surprises me she doesn't like to perform. Oh well, even though she and my brothers are absolutely hilarious and can easily single me out as the least funny member of the family, I am the biggest ham by a long shot. Not one of them holds a candle to my complete and utter lack of all discretion, shame, and sense of propriety. I think I was born outside the box.
Sunday was rough because I was so worn out from the show and my pain-inducing high heels. I don't remember Sunday, so I'm going to skip to today. Oh wait--I just remembered why I blocked out Sunday: the ill-fated picnic!
We did do something "fun" on Sunday. Or that was the idea, anyway. I thought it would be a good idea to take my out-of-town guests to the lakefront for a picnic so the kids could run around and the adults could converse. As usual--my best laid plans went awry. Despite my general malaise and sleep deprivation, I made a delightful feast of turkey/avocado/bacon wraps, homemade pasta salad (my secret recipe), cookies, etc. for a late afternoon picnic. After everything was made and packed and after all the Frisbees, strollers, diaper bags, and children were loaded into the car, we arrived at the lakefront to find the annual kite exhibition in full-swing (Yay!) and thirty mile-an-hour winds coupled with a temperature of 56 degrees (Boo Hiss!). What kind of idiot doesn't look outside the freaking window before hauling everyone and everything across town for a "picnic?" Apparently, the kind of idiot that was born outside the box.
Once we got there, we unloaded long enough to realize it was all a terrible mistake. We went ahead and ate our food in record time-- Each calorie we consumed, we immediately burned-off trying to shiver ourselves warm. It was a totally wasted meal. We huddled together and downed our uncomfortably cold wraps while we talked with anticipation about how warm it would be once we got back in the car. Finn ignored the food and pushed his own stroller around in an effort to keep warm--all the while numb to the steady stream of snot frozen to his upper lip. He did provide a momentary distraction from our suffering though when he fled in horror from a huge black dog on a leash that came past our picnic site. As he ran in an arc inside an invisible 20-foot perimeter around the dog, he was wild-eyed and yelling, "Mommy! Monkey! Monkeeeeey!" Then, as if to simultaneously lend emphasis and clarify, he said, "Oooh, oooh, Ah, ah ah" (which is his best imitation of a "monkey" sound and one that he makes when we read a gorilla book he has). He was plainly convinced that the dog was a gorilla, and from his perspective, it wasn't a bad guess. This dog was a mammoth--with a big face and long black fur. Poor Finn. Imagine--one minute, you're mindlessly pushing your stroller with a snotty nose, and the next minute you are confronted by a gorilla. I would have screamed for my mommy too!
Today, brought more fun--the kids played in the yard and we grilled out for Memorial Day. We all visited Jeff's grave and then took the kids swimming. Finn was in rare form--swimming, racing, chasing, and having a royal blast. We then had pizza for dinner and I was once again reminded that Finn is undeniably the son of Jeff Dodd. Jeff loved pizza. Valentino's pizza in particular, but Pizza Hut was a viable substitute. When Finn heard us talking about ordering pizza, he chimed in and lobbied: "Pizza!! Pizza!!" When we picked-up the pizza, he begged to eat it in the car. I told him "no," but that he had clearly inherited "Daddy's pizza gene" and he sweetly repeated, "Daddy-pizza- gene." Then he washed down a big piece of pizza with apoo joose and was ready for bed.
Jack also has recently adopted one of Jeff's dominant traits. Jack has apparently inherited Jeff's "whistling gene." Jeff used to whistle all the time--while he washed dishes, while he worked in the yard--I don't even think he realized how often he did it. And, now, Jack has the same habit. The first time I really took notice, it caught me off guard. I thought, "Ah Ha! My sign has arrived at last! . . . Oh, wait. It's just Jack. Jack???" And, sure enough--little Jack can whistle like a pro! It's sweet and I love hearing it.
In other news, this weekend--Regan went to Girl Scout camp on Saturday night and spent the night in cabins in the woods on a lake with her troop. She had a great time. Jack will get his "official" baseball uniform tomorrow. He is sooo excited. Aubrey has been enjoying all the middle school "lasts:" the last Pius Dance; the last ACAL; etc. So, it's been a full weekend, but lots of fun. In addition to everything else we did, I'm exhausted from the constant undercurrent of laundry, dishes, and general picking-up that goes with 4 kids and 5 guests, so I'm going to call it a night! Thanks for checking in. Come back soon!
[And a very special "Congratulations" to Katie and Kevin! Wow, Kevin--my hat's off to you. You pulled off an amazing proposal! We wish you both the best of luck!]
Kelly et al.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
