Saturday, March 28, 2009

Old Friends

This is a topic that has weighed heavy on my mind lately, so I hope you’ll indulge me as I work though it in writing. Here goes nothin’ . . .

Jeff had a lot of friends. What’s more–he was particularly adept not just at making friends, but at keeping them. Jeff had lifelong friends from elementary school, high school, college and beyond–some of whom he contacted regularly and others just from time to time, but all of them, without exception, were good friends–meaning they were responsive and genuinely cared about him and could fall into easy conversation regardless of the time lapse between contacts. Throughout the years, Jeff’s friends evolved into "our" friends as "his" friends benevolently adopted me, or at least accepted me, as part of their friendship with Jeff. It never really occurred to me that his death would change all that.

After Jeff died, I made a calculated effort to remain friends with "his" friends and mostly for one reason: these people know things about Jeff that I do not. They know him from a perspective and in a context that I do not. They have shared experiences with Jeff that I did not share. So, they are the exclusive keepers of very valuable information about my children’s father that may be either instructive, comforting, confirming, or otherwise useful to them someday. I figured, that if I remained friends with Jeff’s friends, I would preserve that nexus between my children and their father that I could not otherwise preserve or even simulate, and that by fostering these friendships, Jeff’s friends might be willing to someday share stories about Jeff with my kids without it seeming unnatural or contrived.

Well, let’s just say I think I may be wrong about that. Despite my efforts to remain connected to "Jeff’s" friends, I have had only isolated and temporary success, at best. I have sent e-mails and cards, blog comments, Myspace messages, and phone calls to 8 or 9 targeted individuals. Responses come slowly, if at all, and when they do, they generally do not invite further discourse. Two individuals have responded only to say they are too busy to respond but that they are glad the kids and I are doing well . . .

I don’t mean to complain--I know people are busy. Believe me–I have four kids and two jobs (if you count the band) and three household employees and vehicles and a yard and house to maintain and . . . I get it. I just took for granted how far out on the periphery of Jeff’s inner circle I am now that he is gone. I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, I didn’t have personal relationships with any of these people but for the fact I was Jeff’s wife, so it probably seems either desperate or creepy for me to pester them now that we have no common denominator. But, it makes me sad because I feel like if these friendships die on the vine, my kids will have lost a meaningful connection to their father.

And, I have to admit–I’m sad for me, too. Jeff’s friends, as a class, are some of the neatest and most interesting people I’ve ever known. It would flatter me immeasurably to think they would choose me as a friend independent of Jeff simply because I genuinely like them as individuals and like talking to them and being around them–they are smart, funny, and of unfailing good character. Who couldn’t stand to have a few friends like that?

Well, the point of this blog isn’t to bemoan the fact I have no friends of my own (I do–Hi, Liz!), but I felt it worth making the foregoing observations to put what follows in the proper context . . .

I was getting discouraged by my unsuccessful attempts to convert "Jeff’s" friends to "my" friends when I received an e-mail this week out of the blue from one of my former sorority sisters. (Editor’s Note: Yes, I was in a sorority in college-- Delta Delta Delta. For those of you who are surprised, I’ll tell you I was also a high school cheerleader and a finalist in the Miss Nebraska Pageant. . . there, my public humiliation is complete!) Anyway, my sorority sister, Michelle, had recently had her will prepared by Andrew who is an attorney in Omaha and a college friend of mine. Andrew learned Michelle was a Tri-Delt and mentioned to Michelle that he knew a Tri-Delt once and as they chatted they realized it was me that they knew in common.

Michelle gathered enough information from Andrew to find me on-line and e-mailed me. Since last Tuesday, Michelle has connected me with nearly a dozen of my former college friends. Today, I e-mailed two of my very best college friends and roommates after losing touch with them for nearly 15 years. I’m desperate to hear back from them, and hope news of Jeff’s death (they both knew him and were even involved in our wedding) will not make responding too uncomfortable or awkward. (I’m beginning to appreciate that death does that sometimes).

So, the happy ending is that just as I was starting to feel sorry for myself for losing "Jeff’s" friends, "my" friends found me. I think it is more than a coincidence and I marvel that they would miraculously re-enter my life just when I needed them most. So, this blog is for them and in thanks that they reached out to me despite the fact we haven’t talked in 15 years and despite the fact they are busy and despite not knowing the terrible news I would introduce and despite any other excuse they might have that would easily justify simply remembering me vaguely and passing me by. Thank you, thank you, thank you–it means more than you can possibly know.

So, that’s all. Until next time. . .
Kelly

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

6 Months

Hi everybody! It's Aubrey today =]] Sorry there hasn't been a blog for a while. I would say the reason is because we're super busy and have much more important things to do than blog, but that's not really true because it is as boring as ever here =P Anyway, today is the 6 month anniversary of my dad dying. When my mom first pointed that out to me I kind of waved it off, but then I realized how much has changed in these short 6 months, and it sort of surprised me. So, since it will be more interesting than simply listing how things have changed, I'll tell you everything that my family did today, and then I'll tell you how this day probably would have gone down 6 months ago, if my dad's death had never occurred.

Today, 3/25/2009:

7-7:45 Everybody wakes up and gets ready for the day. The nanny, Jenny, made all of us kids and my mom breakfast and lunch and then as usual we all left for school and work.

8-3:30 I'm not really sure what everybody else does at this time of the day, I'm at school soaking in what little knowledge I get there =P

3:30 All the kids were home by this time. I had a friend over and ate some popcorn and animal crackers. The little kids played outside and watched t.v. while the nanny, Lauren made us all pasta for dinner. =]

5:40 My friend left and my mom came home. We all just sort of lounged around and did whatever we pleased for a while. Mom visited with the nanny and played with Finn while they helped Regan with a school project.

Later, (im not sure what time) my mom went to target with Regan and loaded up on food and diapers. haha. Then she came home and we all listened to music (tonight's choice: Lady Gaga) and ate special snacks that Mom and Regan picked at Target. Finn wore red beads and danced to "Poker Face" while Regan helped prepare the snack because she loves to cook and we had little cakes that you mix and bake in the microwave. Now it's 9:14 pm and the kids are all asleep, my mom is relaxing down stairs and I'm sitting in my room typing this blog and listening to music.

All in all it was a pretty fun day =]]



Here's what would have happened 6 months ago had our lives taken a different direction:

6:30-7:30 Everybody wakes up and gets ready for school, work, etc. by themselves.

7:45 We all leave for school and my dad stays home with Finn and works and cleans up around the house and what not.

8-3:30 Okay, this part hasn't changed, I still sit at school all day!

3:30 The kids all come home and we eat a banana for a snack. Then we do our homework, read, and go outside or do chores (I know this is what would have happened because this was our exact routine for as long as I can remember and it was hardly ever broken. haha)

6-7 My mom comes home and we all sit down to a dinner that my dad cooked together.

7-8:30 My mom and dad talked about their days with eachother and us kids do.... something....wow, I can't even remember how we used to spend our nights....

9:00 Everybody is in bed by this time.

And that's how the day went. We were on a very strict schedule.



So you can see it's very different now! Also, before our house was ALWAYS spotless. It was like nobody lived here.... now it's kinda messy--at least my Dad would think so. But it's messy in a home-y way =]] Except on Monday's it's always clean! (much thanks to our housekeepers Jean Marie and Sarah!!!)

Yep.... that's all I can think of to write about, and Scrubs is on now, which I watch religiously, so byeeee!!!

Love, Aubrey

Tuesday, March 17, 2009

St. Patrick's Day

Happy St. Patrick's Day! As I write this, the day is almost over. Nonetheless, I wanted to take advantage of the occasion to celebrate a few of Jeff's favorite Irish things. (Jeff was Irish by heritage and took both great pride and comfort in that fact). In no particular order, here are some of the reasons Jeff liked Ireland and all things Irish:

1. Notre Dame. Jeff graduated from Notre Dame in 1995 and made some of his best friends there. Aubrey was born while he was a student there. She was baptized in the Log Cabin chapel on campus on the same day he graduated (which also happened to be Jeff's birthday and our anniversary). It was a busy day to say the least. Two of Aubrey's three Godfathers are Notre Dame friends (her third Godfather--she has no Godmothers--is from Nebraska).

2. The Ireland Program at St. Mary's/Maynooth. Jeff lived in Maynooth, County Kildare, Ireland for a year as part of a study abroad program through St. Mary's College in South Bend, Indiana. It was one of his most formative experiences and, again, some of his best friends emerged from it. Some of my favorite pictures of Jeff are from this period in his life. Jeff did not like to smile for photos, yet nearly all of the pictures from his Ireland experience are candid shots showing a broad and genuine smile. He was so happy throughout that year of his life. It could have been because he was usually holding a pint of Smithwicks.

3. Siobhan. Pronounced "Sh'vonn" (the Gaelic name for "Joan"). This is the name Jeff wanted to give his first-born daughter. I objected because in America the name is a phonetic nightmare. I also rejected his alternative suggestions: Roisin (pronounced "Roe-sheen") and Naimh (pronounced "Neeve"). Hence, his first-born daughter was named Aubrey Kate.

4. Fr. Liam Barr. He was Jeff's favorite Irishman by a mile. Or by a kilometer as they would likely measure it in Ireland. He was Jeff's high school Superintendant, a dear family friend of the entire Dodd-Olmsted clan, and the priest that married us (or one of three priests that married us, anyway). He even attended Aubrey's baptism and Jeff's graduation from Notre Dame. If you see him, ask him to tell you the story about how he got tickets to the graduation. It will only fortify your opinion that the Irish are the world's best story tellers--and that Fr. Barr is blessed with more than his fair share of the 'Luck 0' the Irish.'

5. Bewleys Tea. Jeff became addicted to tea when he lived in Ireland and drank a full pot of it nearly every day of his life after that. He loved Bewleys and we actually had to import it to satisfy his addiction until we discovered a quaint English shop that carried it here in Milwaukee (and Hobnobs too!! Ya know--the good ones with milk chocolate on them). We thought it was quite magnanimous of them to carry Irish tea being English and all . . .

So, those are just a few of the reasons Jeff loved Ireland and although I am not Irish, I have attempted to keep the day for the kids' sake. So, today, the Leprechauns came. They turned the toilet water and the milk green and laced all the kitchen cabinets together with green ribbon. The kids got a kick out of it--even Finn (who just for today shall be known as either Fionn Padraig or Finn MacCool).

Thanks again for reading.

Slainte Mhath!
Kelly

Sunday, March 15, 2009

36 years, 4 months, and 4 days . . .

That's precisely how old Jeff was when he died. And it's precisely how old I am today. So, if I live to see tomorrow, I will have officially outlived Jeff. It's amazing to believe that, for him, everything ended today.

I've thought about what I would do if today were my last day on Earth. I'm sure I wouldn't spend it doing laundry and cleaning the house and grocery shopping which is how I spent today. But, confidence in the future has made me lazy and unrepentant. In other words, I'm pretty sure I'll live to see tomorrow, so I don't feel like worrying about it.

I do know that I've been more generous, both in my words and actions, since Jeff's death. I've had occasion to tell certain friends and family that I love them and I've been fortunate to be able to give money to causes and people who are important to me. I do these things knowing that life is short and with hope that if my last day sneaks up on me unexpectedly, I'll have no regrets.

It has been nearly six months since Jeff's death, and in some ways, I feel like tomorrow starts a new life for me. Tomorrow I start a life of days Jeff never saw or counted; of things he never knew or experienced; of people he never met and places he never visited. Despite the constancy of our routine and surroundings, much has changed since his death that he will never know: Finn's new haircut; Jack's new bike; our nanny, Jenny (whom he never actually met); my blue hair (don't worry--it's removable and for Rabid Aardvark shows only). He also does not know that the permanent settings on the thermostat have been changed, or that we frequently rearrange the living room furniture to accommodate a sharp increase in "Dance Parties" that we have held since his death (both of which would have been nearly unforgiveable transgressions if he were alive . . .). He won't see Aubrey in the middle school play, he won't see the Rabid Aardvarks pack several hundred people into a show . . . these are the things that happened after his last day.

So, after 36 years, 4 months and 4 days the rest of us continue to hurtle through time and space and to fill the distance between us and Jeff with living and life and experiences. Nonetheless, despite all that changes, much has stayed the same: I still have all the sympathy cards from the funeral in a box in the living room; Jeff's deoderant and toothbrush and medications are still in the medicine cabinet; his voice still greets callers on our answering machine. Now, these things are more a symptom of my own laziness than any commentary about my unwillingness to "let go." In fact, I have gotten rid of a lot and have organized and stored the rest, but it's a big job and I've had to prioritize it among the million other things I do each week and cleaning out the remnants in the medicine cabinet is hard to justify . . .

The kids are more sentimental, however. Jack brought home a picture of his family that he had drawn in school this week. Included with a likeness of me and the kids, was a picture of Jeff with his cane--just as though he were alive and with us. And they were eager to go to the cemetery today and talked with anticipation about when the head stone would arrive (remember--it was a special order, uncommonly big, and comprised of more than one piece, so even though I approved the final design in December, it might not be here until later this spring). Life truly goes on . . .

So, with that said, I'll fill you in on the latest "goings on" at my house: Many of you have asked about the big Rabid Aardvarks show. It was a lot of fun and very well-attended. Thanks especially to Mike and Katie and their entourage; to George and Mary; Cindy, Jason, LuAnn, Susan, and the other friends I've surely forgotten. I wish I had more time to talk to each of you at the show. Thanks also to my nanny who gives up her weekends to work third-shift so I can even be in the band because without her it truly wouldn't be possible.

In other news, the kids got to play outside most of the day today because it was finally warmer than 50 degrees. Regan took the neighbor's dog for a walk. Jack played with the Murphy boys. Aubrey pushed Finn on the swing and I, well, I did housework. No fun for me.

Oh, and I'll tell you a cute story just for fun: While Aubrey was outside with Finn, he got his hands dirty. As is his custom--he freaked out and insisted on immediately going inside to clean them off. As Aubrey was wiping them with a wet-wipe, he saw the dirt and mud transferred onto the wet-wipe and he actually, physically, gagged. Literally. It was hilarous. At the same time, I felt sorry for him. He is just so disgusted by dirt.

Finally, Regan announced that she wants to change her name this week. I don't know what she wants to change it to--she has a couple of ideas, but I gave her information about the procedure and told her she can do it when she's an adult as long as she pays for it. I also informed her of the cost and she informed me that she is saving her money accordingly. I have found that being agreeable to such things takes all the fun out of it and the idea is usually quickly abandoned. I told Aubrey the same thing several years ago when she wanted a tattoo--she can get one when she's an adult if she pays. Except that I gave her a further incentive: I said, "I will even pay for it if you let me decide what the tattoo is and where it goes." The thought of ending up with something like this was enough to curtail her tattoo dreams:

I'll offer Regan the same deal: "I'll even pay for your name change as long as I get to pick the new name." Again, I have found that taking ownership of your kids' stupid ideas makes them wholly unpalatable. (Mwah-ha-ha! (That's my evil laugh)).

Until next time . . .

Kelly

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Ode to My Nannies . . .

Happy Festival of Life in the Cracks Day! (It's a real holiday. If you don't believe me--look it up: http://library.thinkquest.org/2886/INDEX.HTM Please note we just missed National Crown Roast of Pork Day on March 7th--Dang!) Anyway, I don't even know what "Life in the Cracks" is, but sounds like a reason to celebrate to me. Woohoo!

And while I'm celebrating, I want to declare this day my own personal "Nanny Appreciation Day," as well. As most of you know, I have two nannies who job-share. They work simultaneously for me and for our next door neighbors watching both families' children (seven in all!). One works the morning shift and one works the afternoon shift. They split the "band" shift (one taking practices and one taking shows). It works very well. However, what you probably don't know is that while I've been keeping this blog to inform and entertain you--the nannies have been keeping a daily record of their own. Each day they enter the day's events in the "Nanny Notebook" so that they can inform the parents and each other of what happened during their respective shifts. It started out as a practical tool, however, it has evolved into mad-cap hilarity. So, just for fun, and for the first time ever, I am going to publicize some of my favorite entries with hope that you will appreciate how hard they work for us and how much they love our kids:

February 24th:

"Kids went down for a nap by noon. Finn was not happy about it but it could have been because I had just picked his nose trying to get what looked like a small planet consuming his left nostril which apparently included a river, as well, that runs south toward the mouth."

March 3rd:

"Finn had a HUGE diaper before bed. I think huge is an understatement. It was like a sick clown smashed a pumpkin pie in his pants. What a twisted clown!"

March 4th:

"Mac has accepted a position at the water company. All I am getting today is water works for no reason. Finn's diaper looked like an exploded fruit cake with still chunks of something. I did not go in for further investigation."

March 10th:

"Mac and his mighty flashlight have found people and a farm located up my nose with lots of chickens and cows and horses. As well, he likes to inform me of EVERYTHING Finn is doing: 'Finn is sitting down; Finn is shaking his milk; Finn is drinking his milk; Finn is wiping the floor; Finn is eating a peach; Finn is talking . . . it was quite hilarious at first. Not so much after the 50th informative statement."

So, this is just a small sample of the narrative that greets me everyday when I come home from work. But, even better than the narrative are the fun conversations I have with the nannies after their shifts end. They are so sweet to stay and chat and ask about my day and share what is going on in their lives. They really have become part of the family and I don't know what I would do without them. I know that this meager blog entry does not possibly do them the justice they deserve. I would love to tell you all about both of them but don't want to trade the peaceful existence they live during their non-working hours for the celebrity status they would surely attain if I told you everything about their many accomplishments, winning personalities, and general good characters. Suffice it to say they are perfectly matched to our family and they are just one more reason I am sure God exists.

And while I'm in a celebratory mood and lauding the people who help me most--I must say "Happy Birthday" to Liz. Herzlichen Glückwunsch zum Geburtstag!

So, thanks, as always for reading and I hope you'll celebrate everyday like a holiday--even if it is just "National Brandied Fruit Day" (Oct. 20th) or "Richter Scale Day" (April 26th).

And, Murphys be warned: August 8th shall be celebrated with gusto!!

With Love,
Kelly

A Note From Aubrey Kate: my birthday happens to fall on "Look Up At the Sky Day" so make sure you all mark your calendars!!!
and the nanny's are totallyyy part of the family =]] i honestly don't remember life without them at all....

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Just for Fun

The time changed today. This means the clocks in my house that I didn't reset last time are now correct again. (There are only two such clocks in my house, by the way). This also means that I got home from last night's Rabid Aardvarks show at 3:45 a.m. instead of 2:45 a.m. (Yikes!). However, thanks to my nanny, Lauren, and my post-show massage, I feel very good today and was able to plow through several loads of laundry, run kids to and from their playdates, and clean the house (Aubrey and Regan both had friends sleep over last night . . .). Nonetheless, I have a feeling tomorrow morning will be rough . . .

Our week has been uneventful, so I'll summarize the major highlights and spare you the rest. We've all recovered from our various aliments. Jack has been missing Jeff more than usual. Regan has distributed all her Girl Scout Cookies. Aubrey got a new cell phone. Finn has learned his colors (he now chooses to call things not by their names, but by their colors. For example, he used to call macaroni "roni." Now, he calls it "yellow."). I finally acquiesced and got a Facebook page to appease my band. I really haven't gotten into those networking sites and expect I will neglect my Facebook page as much as I neglect the Myspace page I got when I first joined the band three years ago (and which I haven't changed or updated since . . .). I have appointed Aubrey to be my official Facebook page administrator and have vested her with the authority to post pictures, updates, etc. at her convenience.

And speaking of my band, we have a big show coming up this Friday, March 13th. We'll be playing at Bub's Irish Pub in Germantown, Wisconsin (another Milwaukee suburb). We'll be celebrating some birthdays for one of the band members and a couple of our SuperFans. There will even be free beer and food (as long as it lasts . . .). So, if you are reasonably close and have nothing better to do Friday night--and even if you are not reasonably close and have other very important things to do--I recommend you come to the show. It will be one for the record books. For details and directions, you can visit our web site: www.rabidaardvarks.com

And now, if you'll excuse me:
Confidential to Target Corp.--Since when do your stores close at 9:00 p.m.? For some of us (oh say, for example, rock star-widow-moms with a high-wired toddler), the night has barely begun at 9:00 p.m. As a result of your discrimination against us ("us" being, for example, people who don't need a lot of sleep and who have no one to talk to and nothing to do after their kids go to bed and who soothe their boredom with late-night shopping trips), I will either have to ration the remaining six diapers in the house until the next opportunity arises to patronize your store OR buy ridiculously overpriced diapers from Pick-n-Save. Given that I just greased Finn's bowels with an overdose of Velveeta Shells & Cheese, I think the rationing option may be impractical. However, I am similarly disinclined to be held hostage to grocery store diaper-prices. After all, I am a woman of principle. Do you understand my dilemma, Target? Do you? Sunday nights should be no exception--I beg you, please stay open until 10 or 11 p.m. And, Pick-n-Save, I see you looking all smug over there because you stay open past 9:00 p.m. on Sunday nights, but you, too, are irksome: you used to be open 24 hours. I suggest you revert to that habit. Otherwise, I will be forced to forsake you both for the Speedway up the street. At least they can offer me a 50 cent hot dog that has been slow-cooked under a light bulb all day and a 64 ounce Dr. Pepper to go with my Slim Jims and $13.99 6-pack of Little Swimmers (because that's the only kind of diaper they sell . . . ). Late night knows no loyalty!!!

That's all.
Kelly

Monday, March 2, 2009

House of Pain

Well, I finally got sick. After Jeff died (and even before) I wondered what I would do if I got sick. Who would take care of the kids? Who would take care of me? How would anything get done around the house? Now I know . . .

First, I have to forewarn you that my illness was entirely minor and survivable. However, that will not prevent me from exploiting it for your entertainment. So, here we go:

Over the past couple of weeks, the kids have all had varying degrees of one illness or another: Aubrey had a three-day long fever of nearly 104 degrees; Regan complained of a sore throat; Jack had a stuffy nose and felt worn out; and Finn developed a very angry-looking rash on only one half of his body. If you recall, during Jeff's illness, I obtained what I like to call my "internet medical degree" by virtue of incessantly studying webMD, the American Cancer Society web site, various Yahoo message boards, (you get the picture . . .). So, given my vast--yet famously ill-informed--expertise, I variously diagnosed the kids with (among other things) meningitis, shingles, and lymphoma.

Now, before you think I've seriously gone off the deep end, I'd like to defend my hypochondria. Jeff found an otherwise unremarkable and entirely asymptomatic lump smaller than a pea on his chest. However, that little bump heralded a widely metastasized and extremely aggressive cancer that killed him less than two years later. So, forgive me if I get a little excited about a rash or high fever.

Now, while the kids recovered from what I can only legitimately assume was a cold or flu, I was suddenly overcome with severe and unrelenting pain on Wednesday. It was so bad that I stayed home from work and slept all day. I returned to work on Thursday--still suffering from widespread body aches and a headache. By Thursday night it hurt so bad I couldn't sleep and considered taking myself to the emergency room. I was convinced that a "normal" cold or flu could not possibly produce such pain and I was becoming increasingly tempted to diagnose myself with cancer or some similarly heinous pain-producer.

[Now, as an aside and in an attempt to put my pain in the proper perspective, I have to inform you that I have an uncommonly high pain threshold. (My threshold for discomfort is proportionately low, but that's another story--I've often thought it would be easier for me to walk a mile with a nail in my foot than to walk around the block with a rock in my shoe . . .) But anyway--to illustrate my pain tolerance I'll share a quick anecdote. When I was pregnant with Aubrey I was five days overdue and was looking for any excuse to have the baby. I had been experiencing mild pinchy cramps throughout the day, but my OB-gyn had assured me there would be no mistaking "real" labor pains. So, I went about my day and by the middle of the night, they were strong enough that I suggested to Jeff we should go the hospital just to see if I was in the early stages of labor. We almost didn't take my bag because I was confident I would be checked and sent home to wait. When we arrived at the hospital I was dilated to 9 cm!! They didn't even stand me up. They just wheeled me into the delivery room and told me to push. So, having a high pain tolerance is not necessarily a good thing (I would have had Aubrey in our living room if I'd waited any longer)].

So--the pain I had this week was intense. I was taking a ton of ibuprofen (it did nothing), I slept as much as I could (it didn't help) and was beginning to get frustrated. I missed most of work on Friday; I laid in bed all day on Saturday and then just as mysteriously as it began--it ceased. I woke up Sunday and felt fine. Now in the meantime, while I was lying in bed and sleeping, the kids were running the house. It was like a scene from Lord of the Flies, but they tried hard to help me. Regan and Jack entertained Finn and all of them pitched in to help make lunches and clean up. Thank God for Aubrey--she really took one for the team. She at least made sure everyone was fed and put to bed at a reasonable time. I took her shopping on Sunday for a new spring jacket as a "Thank You" for all her help.

So, what's the point of all this--probably nothing as far as you're concerned. But to me--it will be nice to re-read this blog in the future and be reminded that my kids are very independent and resilient and best of all--I will be reminded that even when I can't take care of them--they will take care of each other.

Nighty Night!
Kelly

P.S. The other big news at our house this week is that Jack lost another tooth! (One of the top, front teeth, so he now has a very distinguished smile). The bad news is that the tooth fairy either forgot to come for two whole nights (which you'll agree is unlikely) or was sidelined by the Fairy Flu and couldn't make her scheduled rounds on time (entirely plausible). Needless to say, when she did come, she paid a premium for that tooth. All's well that ends well.