Holy Crap ...

First, let me say HOLY CRAP,  I can't believe it's been six months since I last posted!  Don't know how that has happened, but let me assure you that I have continued to read everyone on my blog list.  I'm still having some problems commenting, even if I use the anonymous option, but I do read you all.

The next HOLY CRAP is that I didn't wish everyone happy holidays and happy new year.  So to one and all, a belated Happy Holidays and Happy New Year!  I hope 2012 brings many good things to all of us (especially good health and money)!

The main reason for this HOLY CRAP post is something that happened yesterday with my two grandsons, ages 6 and 8, and the phrase holy crap was repeated many times by me.  It was about 5pm and they had been out in front of the house, going up and down the street on bikes, skateboards, and pogo sticks with some other kids, and I checked on them every 15 minutes or so.  What usually happens is that I either make a visual check thru the window, or if I can't see them I step outside and listen for their voices, which are usually coming from either the house next door or two across the street where they have friends.  I know the kids and the families, so I don't generally worry.  There's a little concern that Conner is only 6 and the boys that he and Garrett play with are 10, but we've lived here for six years and they've known him since he was a baby and generally watch out for him, so the main problem is that he thinks he can do anything that they do!

Anyway, yesterday when I realized that they were no longer going up and down the street, I went out into the yard to see where they had disappeared to.  I began hollering their names, and eventually they popped up at a yard at the end of the street and waved at me.  I thought they were at a house at the 'dirt road' on the end of the street where I'm a passing acquaintance with a lady from the school, where our street turns to the right toward the cul-de-sac.  I hollered at them that they should have told  me where they were going, and then let it go.  My daughter called a few minutes later to say she was on the way, so I decided to go ahead and call them home...

and they were nowhere to be seen or heard.  Nothing.  I yelled until I was hoarse, but nothing.  I had been sick for several days and was weak as a kitten (I think it's my thyroiditis flaring up), so I was in my pajamas with  no make up on and my hair pinned up and all over the place.  After yelling for what seemed forever, I ran in the house and put my jeans and shoes on and headed down the street to the dirt road area, which is four houses away (that seemed like a dozen).

If you have read me for any time at all, you know that we have an area behind our subdivision that is wooded, and where we have taken the boys for hiking and exploring.  There's a trickle of a stream that floods when it rains, and though it's not a huge spookey area, it is a good distance from the house and wooded and, oh, did I mention that THEY ARE NEVER SUPPOSED TO GO THERE WITHOUT AN ADULT???

So I went to the dirt road at the house where I thought they were, and two men in the driveway said they hadn't noticed which way they'd gone, and their kids were in the house.  I stood there at the dirt road that leads to the woods and began a frantic screaming for the boys.  Nothing.  More frantic screaming, turning round and round so that my voice would carry in all directions.  Garrett, Conner!  Where the hell are you?  Where did you go?  Why can't you hear me?  Pa-leeeeze, where are you????

Finally, off in the distance in the direction of the woods, I saw a flash of white shirt and heard a far, far away voice.  Filled with both relief and anger, my screaming became Are you kidding me? What the hell are you doing over there?  Get your butts over here immediately!  Run as fast as your feet can carry you!  What the hell were you thinking?  When they finally got near enough for me to actually hear them and they me, my anger was just overwhelming.  My heart was beating so fast I thought I'd drop dead right there, and blood roared in my ears so loud I was almost deaf except for the screaming of my own voice.  What the hell were you thinking?  You know you're never supposed to go in there by yourselves!  On what planet do you take a six year old boy into the woods without an adult?  Bla bla bla ...

By now both boys are crying hysterically and Garrett's saying I'm sorry! and asking me why am I screaming, and telling me that he thought I knew where they were.  What?  Knew where they were?  Was I unconscious when he came home and said Mawmaw, Conner and I are going to go by ourselves down the dirt road and into the woods and down to the creek?  Of course he knew that that made no sense, but by that point I think we were all three in a state of hysteria, them at being in trouble and listening to me scream at them as we walked/ran home, and me at the idea of how easily this could have had a bad ending.  (And let me say here that the lapse of time from when I first called them home until the time they came out of the woods was the longest 15-20 minutes of my life.)

As I neared the house, an  older girl, maybe 10 or 11,  came up from behind me saying m'am, m'am! She's new to the neighborhood, and though I had seen her walking home from school I really had no idea who she was. She ran up to me as we got to the house and apologized, saying it was her fault. (Apparently she had walked out of the woods more slowly and had waited until my rant subsided before she showed herself!)  Said that she's new in the neighborhood and that Garrett had mentioned the creek and she asked if he could show her. Didn't know that they didn't have permission. I thanked her for her apology, said that she had no way of knowing he didn't have permission, that Garrett knew better, and that she should never go there by herself and especially without telling anyone where she was going!



When we finally got into the house, these two little boys still crying and me shaking like a leaf, I said horrid things like Do you realize that every week there's a story on the news about a child being kidnapped and either hurt or murdered?  About little kids that ride off on their bikes without saying where they're going and never coming back?  About parents who turn their backs for ten seconds and never see their kid again?  Do you have any idea how badly you scared me?

Well, by the time Melody got here a few minutes later, Garrett was sitting at the computer and Conner was totally wrapped in a blanket and laying on the couch crying, and  I was sitting at the kitchen table trying to slow my heart beat down.  Melody was on her phone and didn't realize for a few minutes that something was going on, so when I finally was able to tell her the story she was very disappointed in her boys!  She handled it better than me, scolded them calmly but sternly, telling Garrett that she was disappointed that he had made such a bad decision, making her realize that he needed to be better supervised until he could make better ones.  That they were both grounded to their yard or mine and could not leave them until further notice.

And I had to apologize to her for letting it happen, for being an unreliable caregiver, both of us knowing, of course, that these things happen under the best of circumstances, that we lucked out this time. And I'm thinking back to when she was a girl, about four or five years old, and disappeared on our street while playing with neighborhood kids, and they had gone to a field at the end of the street - where she was never supposed to go!  At that time there seemed to have been a rash of kidnappings and deaths across the country, and particularly one where the child had been dumped in one of those roadside porta potties on a mountain road in Colorado.  So I recognized this fear as the same I had felt at that time!  And, of course,  last night I had the same kind of dreams that I had had then.

One thing that I keep thinking about is - I do not know my neighbors.  I know the ones on either side of me and across the street, but all the others are phantom neighbors who pull into their garages when they get home from work and just as silently leave the next day.  Who are they and why are they so anonymous?  Do they have kids, how many, how old?  Are any of them unbalanced?  Do they watch any kids that are in their visual range for safety sake, like I do?  I feel like I need to go door to door to check everybody out, to know who is interacting with my grandsons, and who I can go to if one of the boys seems to have disappeared!

Well, there's not a parent alive who hasn't gone thru some version of a child disappearing, if even for just a few minutes, and experienced that cold fear that grips you so quickly, so primitively and to the gut.  I know I won't soon forget those long fifteen minutes and the fear that gripped me. 

And I don't think the boys will soon forget the vision of their Mawmaw looking like a wild woman going down the street, screaching at the top of her lungs, and probably were a bit shocked at all the cuss words she forgot she wasn't supposed to use in front of them!

Of course, it doesn't stop at childhood, does it?  They're on a date and 30 minutes late getting home and forget to call.  Or off riding around with friends.  Oh gosh, the first time they take the car for a drive by themselves!  I'll never forget the first time Melody drove all the way to Colorado from Georgia by herself! What about you?  Do you have one of these lost or late kid stories?

Garrett's 8th Birthday, Feb. 16,2011

(I was going to put this in its proper spot in February and just do a link here, but blogger won't let me do that, so I'll post it here and then move it later! If you haven't read the previous post, I missed some postings this last six months for one reason or another, and want to back-track and get them on here.)

February 16, 2011, my first born grandson, Garrett, turned eight years old. Conner (the five year old) and I made the cake, with him doing the sprinkles (which, as you can see, all went on one spot!), and we had the usual small family dinner on the day.

My daughter Melody and I have always had a pet peeve about those elaborate, expensive parties that have been the trend over the years, and she swore to never do one. Until this year. For some reason, she decided to do what Garrett said he'd like to do for his birthday...go to one of those bowling alley/arcade games places (the name escapes me) like Chuck E.Cheese. So off we go with eight little boys (and about ten adults) for a couple of hours of fun. I don't know if you've ever been to one of these places, but they're a huge warehouse affair with rooms for different activities, each planned down to the minute and guided by an appointed host or hostess. And between the screaming kids and the pings and musics of the games, they're very noisy!

The table they provided was really cute, and a nice touch was that they had all the guests sign the bowling pin for the birthday boy to take home.

The pizza was delicious, and luckily (and happily) there was enough for the adults as well, as we were starving! The snack bar was outrageously expensive, and you wonder how some families can afford it these days (much like going to the movies).

They had only bowled a few minutes when the hostess rounded everybody up and said that they had to get to the other activities, but could come back to the bowling later.

You can't go wrong with bumper cars! But they were only alloted maybe five or ten minutes, so by the time they got the hang of it, it was time to move on.

I'm not sure what this was - oh, Conner says laser tag, but for some reason I thought they had real nurf balls or something, but what do I know! (Or maybe I've got my photos confused, and this is actually from the next game...)

You definitely can't go wrong with laser guns! I had to take an extra seizure pill to go in here to take photos, but it was worth it to be able to watch the hunters (though I will admit that I had to leave after a few minutes as I got so sick to my stomach that I had to sit on the bench outside and hope I didn't throw up!). Conner has tried to explain both of the games to me, but all I hear is bla bla bla ...)

Back to the bowling alley, the boys ate cupcakes while Garrett opened his gifts, and here he is reading his card from us which said that I would take him to buy the skate board he's been wanting. He was so excited, even after I told him that it wouldn't be one of those $200 fancy ones! ( I had a photo of him looking excitedly at me with a huge smile, but forgot to upload it and don't know how to add it in the middle of a post!)

Would a birtday party be complete without a game room? Apparently not! So noisy that you want to run screaming from the place, but that would be showing your age, and the kids don't seem to notice. In fact, it seems that louder is better to them (as demonstrated when they turn the volume up full blast on their ds and online video games, with a 'tune' that plays over and over and over ad nauseum).

More guns! Good grief! (And that's my husband, David, in the background.)

This is the aspect of this whole arcade thing that DRIVES ME CRAZY (that's Garrett's friend Jake above), as I'm sure it does many adults. You pay something like $10 and more for tokens to play these games. The kids will be over the moon when they score on a game and get TICKETS (which,basically, you already paid for), lots and lots of tickets. Then they excitedly take these tickets up to the counter, eyes shining bright with the anticipation of what things they will 'buy' with these tickets. They totally don't get that they (you) paid the $10 or $20 (or, good grief, $30) to play the games that produced these tickets...only to be able to trade them in for a 5 cent plastic something that will end up in the recycleables a few days later (if it lasts that long), or a piece of candy that will be gone in seconds. Well, just call me Mrs. Scrooge!

I guess the important thing is that the boys had a super good time, and this sculpter of an elk(?) outside in front of the store next door just topped it off! I'm sure he'll not soon forget this special celebration of his birthday, nor will mom and dad soon forget how much it ended up costing!

And the skate board - picked out with care and still being enjoyed. He looked on the computer to read about the care and feeding of his new possession, and went to a skating park to learn the rules and some techniques. His goal is to be as good as Tony Hawke someday, and our hope is that he doesn't break any bones along the way! If only we could wrap them in cottom batting on this journey thru boyhhood...

What is the most elaborate/expensive birthday party you had for your kids, or that your kids went to, or that was your own birthday celebration? Do you have a party in your memory that stands out as one that has stood the test of time?

Breast Cancer Awareness Month

(This post was originally published in October 2009, the 25th anniversary of NBCA month, but the message and the stories remain the same. The first nine comments are from that original post, and I included them because of the "conversation" between myself and my husband's niece, Wendy, regarding her mother Sandy, who died of breast cancer.)


October is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month. It's a call for us to recognize that we need to be vigilant in our attempts at early detection through self examination and regular mammograms, to bring attention to the need for improved testing and treatment, and to honor those of our ranks - family, friends, and strangers alike - who have battled and survived... and battled and lost.

My life has been touched by the breast cancer diagnosis of four women:

This lovely lady, above, is my stepmother, Ferne. She came into my life as the third wife of my dad, and she was the mother that I had always wished I had had growing up. If I were to be asked to use just a few words to describe her, it would be sweet, loving, soft spoken. I only saw her once a year after the first few years of their marriage, but she never failed to treat me as a treasured member of her family. She had her first diagnosis of breast cancer in, I think, 1987. (I say I think because they didn't tell me that she had or was going to have a masectomy, because they didn't want me to worry long distance. Of course, I took umbrage with that, telling them that, instead, it made me feel out of the loop, but that's another story.) I actually am totally ignorant of her treatment, don't know if she had chemo or radiation or anything, that's how far out of the loop I was.

In the spring of 1993, it was found that Ferne's cancer had metasticized to the brain. By July I was in Texas sitting by her side 24 hours a day so that my dad could get away from the hospital for a bit, and it was then that I saw, for the first time, what a chest with the puckered scars of a double masectomy looked like. In October she died, and I think she was 73. But look at the statistic there ... she survived, and lived well, in the six or more years after the original diagnosis. She was a daughter, sister, wife, mother, grandmother.

This smiling lady is Sandy, my sister-in-law. She was one of the funniest people I've ever known, and the most talkative! She was known for her talking, her easy laugh, her love of sewing/decorating/crafts, her kindness, and her clutter! She would much rather be doing crafts with her kids than keeping house, and she was a wonderful mother to her four children, though she didn't always have an easy time of it. Once again, we were not around to see how she lived her life with cancer. I couldn't even tell you when she was first diagnosed or if she had chemo or radiation (although I'm thinking she didn't). She did not have an easy time of it, but she lived her last years to their fullest and on a journey of self-discovery. She died at the home of her mother in March 1997. We had called her that night as we hadn't talked to her for a while, and had been told that she wasn't doing well. Her brother Corey answered and said he'd take her the phone... then he came back on the phone and said: "She just died". You never know when the last time you talk to someone will be the last time you talk to that someone. Sandy was 50 years old, a daughter, sister, divorcee, mother, and she did not live to see her two beautiful grandbabies, Joey and Kam.

This blurry lady with the Tweety shirt is Charla, the wife of my husband's cousin. This photo was taken when they came to visit us here in Georgia from Colorado. We had the best time. She was truly a lovely lovely person, and we discovered, she and I, that if we lived closer, like we had for many years but didn't know each other, we would probably have been best friends. We talked so easily, shared secrets even. Within a year of this photo, Charla would be diagnosed with breast cancer. We saw her in Colorado a few years later for a family reunion, and she was a mere skeleton, and I hardly recognized her. I asked her what it felt like, what did she think and feel, knowing that all treatments had failed in this very aggressive form of the disease, and she said she had no choice but to take each day as it came, and took what joy from it that she could. She died at the age of fifty-seven in August 2007. She was a daughter, sister, wife, mother, grandmother.

Delores is the wife of my step-brother. I don't have dates here, but she was diagnosed with cancer maybe ten or so years ago, and had a masectomy, chemo, and radiation. She's had several scares in the years since, but it appears that she is currently cancer free.

There will be many activities this month in recognition of breast cancer awareness, on small and large scales, in schools, churches, communities, and cities. If you get a chance to participate in some way, please do. If you don't want to 'walk', then maybe you could just do an extra donation for research and free mammograms this month, or remind a friend, sister or mother to do a self-exam or get a mammogram. Or make an appointment to get one yourself.

"When you do nothing, you feel overwhelmed and powerless. But when you get involved, you feel the sense of hope and accomplishment that comes from knowing you are working to make things better. ” Maya Angelou

http://www.nationalbreastcancer.org/How-To-Help/Fundraising.aspx

Amanda

I had the most wonderful surprise a couple of weeks ago! I received an email from my niece, Amanda, that she was in the area (all the way from New Mexico) with her husband and four kids to visit the husband's family here in Georgia, and wondered if I was anywhere near to where they were in Lafayette, Georgia. Well, uh, yeah...I was about fifteen minutes away from there! We made a plan for me to drive there to visit with her, and then possibly make plans for her to come to my home before they left on that Friday. I hadn't seen her since 2003 when Melody, Garrett and I drove to Panama City, Florida for a very brief visit with her and Kathy, so I was full of anticipation. But first, a little history...

This is my sister, Kathy, pregnant with Amanda. As most of you know, back in 1978, I found my birth family, which included an aunt and five half-siblings. A few months later, in May 1979, one of those siblings, Kathy, came to live with us in Colorado. She was a single mother of a small boy (Jacen) and was pregnant again...and needed a place to live for awhile. Being a new big sister, I was quick to say "sure, come on down!". They moved in, and in the beginning all was well as we got to know each other. Then we began to get on each other's nerves. She eventually found a little trailer to move into, and in Sept. 1979 gave birth to her little girl, Amanda, and I was in the delivery room to welcome her into the world.

Kathy moved into a little apartment, and we co-signed for her to get a phone. All was not well with us for one reason or another, and she got into a church situation that bordered on being a cult, which I disapproved of. We rarely saw each other, and for some reason there are no photos of Kathy and I together during that entire year even though we were new family, and there aren't even any photos of me and Amanda, which I find so strange! Anyway, almost a year after she came to Colorado, Kathy and the two kids vanished. Literally. She moved to Las Vegas and didn't even tell me she was leaving. And left us with a huge phone bill.

Flash forward to 1989, ten years later. Kathy, who I was still in touch with occasionally, called to say that she needed a big favor. She was now the single mother of three kids - Jacen, Amanda, and Brandon - and had been having a very difficult time. She had been in an abusive relationship with a guy named Jim, and he had molested Amanda. She was trying to get out of the situation, and wondered if she could send Brandon and Amanda to stay with me for the summer. I said yes.

Their faces show that they were happy to be with us, and I know I was delighted to have a chance to get to know the little girl I had welcomed into the world! We lived in the country, and had four dogs, three cats, a new litter of kittens and three horses (actually, they were more like big dogs, but that's a whole other story). It was a dramatic change from the life they were used to! Amanda especially loved the horses.

Look at the joy and excitement on her face! I think this must have been the very first time she had ever been on a horse.

As happy as they look in these photos, all was not well. Amanda was, not surprisingly, acting out in so many ways. We started butting heads big time. I remember one time her stomping out of the house and across the pasture, with me in hot pursuit, screaming at her that she damn well would listen to me and to come back to the house! Unfortunately, things went from bad to worse, and my hopes of being the favorite aunt who showed them the good life turned sour for all of us. After four weeks, I had to call Kathy and tell her that the kids needed to go home. I am not proud of that. And for years afterwards, to this very day, anytime I thought of Amanda, I remembered those four weeks and felt that I had let her down in so.many.ways.

As the years went by, Amanda's life did not get any better. She lived thru several of Kathy's dysfunctional boyfriends and religions, as well as a life at poverty level in the home of a single mother with three kids, and eventually got into drugs and went to rehab. She herself became the single mother of three children beginning at age 18. Other than that oh so brief visit with her in Florida in 2003 (literally maybe 30 minutes), we had not been in touch all those years.

So, here we were in June 2010, seven years since I had last seen her, and only the third time in her life that I'd spent time with her. As we sat next to each other on the couch in her in-laws home, everyone excused themselves so she and I could visit. After we exchanged details about each other's lives, I expressed to her, with a shakey voice and near tears, that I had never forgotten that summer that she and Brandon had visited us in Colorado, and how I had always felt that I had let her down and was so sorry. To my surprise, she said she had always remembered that period of time, even my chasing her across the pasture, and that it had a great deal to do with where she was today.

She said that the visit had shown her what a 'normal' and stable life could be like, and that that was something she wanted for herself someday, though it took her a while to get there. It also fueled her love of horses. For the last three years, she has been married to a real cowboy, and they live on a 'ranch' and home that was built by his grandfather, some 300+ acreas...with horses. She's a stay-at-home mom with three kids and a step-son, and credits her memories of those four weeks with us as an example that she lives by. I was astonished to hear this...and relieved.

On their way out of town to head back to New Mexico, the whole family stopped by our house for a few hours. And this time we took every combination of photo possible! (Don't worry, I won't show all of them!)

Here we are, thirty-one years after we first met!

I kept saying that I thought that Amanda and my daughter Melody look so much alike, but I may have been the only one to see it. I think they have the same cheekbones and smile.

This is her cowboy, Scott. Just the nicest guy! And they seem to be very happy.

I'm so glad to have a photo of my daughter and grandsons with my niece and her children, and hope that someday they will be digging out the photos and remembering back to when they all met on that incredibly hot and humid day in Georgia.

Thirty-one years ago I saw a little girl take her first breath, and was one of the first ones to hold her. I was so pleased to be able to tell that girl now a woman how proud I am of her, and how proud she should be of herself, to have gone thru so much in her early life and to come out the other end with this lovely family and life that she has made for herself.

New Mexico is a long way from Ringgold, Georgia! We've promised to keep in touch when we can and if we want, but no pressure or expectations. Even if I never see her again, I will always remember this visit...and this time have the photos to mark the occasion!

My Week in Review

This was the first year that Garrett played basketball, and I haven't been to any of the games because (a) I don't do sports, (b) I babysat Conner so Melody didn't have to chase him around during the games, and (c) I don't have to if I don't want to. This past Saturday, however, was the last game, and I had promised him from the beginning that I would go to that one.

I won't bore you with a bunch of photos of the game, but this is him in the center, doing basketball stuff. It looks a little like some kind of dance, doesn't it, with everyone waving their arms!

And this is Conner, trying to explain to me why he should spend the night after the game, which he did end up doing. (he's very convincing)

Sunday, Valentine's day, we celebrated three little boy February birthdays at the Chattanooga Zoo. Garrett would turn seven on the 16th.

They each had an Alabama Crimson Tide cake with their name on it.

They took us on a tour of the zoo...and no, I won't show you all the photos! Except these. Like the chimp above, one of several who entertained us or just sat and looked at us.

These birds were so beautiful! Look at those colors!

Aren't these the most fascinating monkeys ever? Their faces are like shrunken little men. If you look closely or enlarge, you can see a baby on her back. (Hmmm. Actually, no you can't. He's either not there, or very well hidden.) (No - wait - it is there, on the left shoulder, you can just make out his nose about even with the mother's nose!)In fact, I have a video of a tiny pair of twins that were also on display, but I didn't have sense enough to use the zoom, and didn't have my reading glasses on to actually see what was on the screen.. So never mind on that one.

Garrett says this is some kind of deer, but I'm not so sure and forgot to look. But they're definitely interesting looking.

This is just the boys posing on a statue, and Conner insisting on climbing it even though he could barely hold on!

This was my attempt at being artistic by taking the photo thru the wire fence. Just as I started to click he put his wings down.

In addition to the tour of the zoo, they also had a hands-on presentation in the cabin. I touched the snake so the boys would think I was cool, but only the boys actually did this, hold the snake! Actually, Conner had me hold him and stay way at the back!

He was, however, more than willing to tickle the tummy of the iguana. He looks pretty tickled himself, doesn't he!

And to finish off my week, here is Conner playing in the SWIMMING POOL! In February, a week after our third snow and record low temperatures! It's been in the low 50s this week, and today will apparently be near 60! Huh? And then in another week or two it will be back to winter. Is it any wonder that the plants are confused? And so are the people! (Yes, those are Woody pajamas, and it is the middle of the afternoon. And he wore them to Lowes and Wendy's.)

Speaking of plants, my hydrangeas have green buds, and the tulips and lilies are poking up. And, much to my surprise, the hellebores have fragile-looking but tough white flowers under the frost- burned foliage. I don't want to clean them up yet as the foliage is protecting the flowers from any further frost, but as soon as possible I'll have to get a photo up as they are gorgeous.

My next post will be next Tuesday about my visit with Dana and Joe. Woohoo!

Garrett with chair on head video

When I got my first digital camera a year ago, I didn't realize for several weeks that I could also do video with it. This video is me practicing. Unfortunately, once I figured it out and wanted to put it on my new blog, I couldn't figure out how to do that. It was the same situation as with the links - no one told me that you have to do these things in edit Html!!! Anyway, I found this when I was going thru my picture folders tonight, and laughed so hard at how stupid it is! And yet also endearing in it's stupidity. Hope you have a good laugh with it.

FYI, I'm just sure that my voice isn't that annoying, although I have to admit that I do tend to talk in a singy-songy voice with the boys. And I'm sure you'll be excited to know that now that I know how to upload videos, I probably won't be posting so many photos. And, I have several more old videos that I can upload before I do new ones. I know, I know, you can hardly contain your excitement!

Christmas 2009

So, here it is two days after Christmas! We had a pretty mellow holiday this year, so there wasn't a big letdown once it was over. Melody and her husband, Brent, and the two boys came over Christmas Eve for most of the opening of our gifts for the boys, then they would come back the next day for a few Santa's gifts (yes, he comes to our house, too!). Christmas morning we spend at the home of Brent's parents for a brunch. Anyway, here are my requisite photos of the week. Nothing more special or different than yours, just ours!

I couldn't decide which photo to use - the dark or light one - so decided to use both.

That's Annabelle's ashes there in that white box (she died a year ago), with her photo in front of it. Toby's under there, too, (he died two years ago). Yes, I realize that that's a wierd thing to do!

This is Eva Jean taking a nap with Annabelle. She likes to scratch her face on the branches. We don't have presents under the tree because of year old Oliver the chihuahua.

We bought this simple manger thirty-six years ago when we were poor, and have just never 'upgraded'. When Garrett was two, he lined up his cars in front of it, on the brown part. I keep telling Conner that I don't think they had pine trees like this in Bethlehem, but he thinks they should be there anyway!

This is our Christmas Village, of all different sizes because we mixed and matched! The boys don't care, and one of the first things we do each Christmas is get this out and set it up, the boys on a stool and shuffling everything around til it looks just right. I think we have a tradition started with this! Mawmaw gets to decide where the buildings go, but everything else can be arranged and rearranged as each boy sees fit, as many times as they want.

I'm real proud of these four stamped wooden ornaments. I painted them about twenty years ago, and the exciting thing is that I'm not in the least bit artistic. Most importantly, I can give each boy a set of two for their own trees when they're adults.

Garrett and Pawpaw relaxing. That's a lap drawing set from the Dollar Store that Garrett got for Christmas because drawing is his passion right now.

I have no idea why Conner has underwear on his head. This was before Christmas, but I don't remember what led up to it.

Oliver helping the boys with their new Hot Wheels race track.

Mawmaw and Conner with their antlers on.

Garrett bought me this cute little kitten in a cup at the school Santa Shop, and was so proud of himself! The cat looks like one of ours that died in 2008.

All three dogs had a stocking , but only Oliver was willing to pull one of the toys out. If you look toward his feet, you'll see that it's a silly looking bird.

Well, there are a lot more, but I won't make you look at them all since you've got your own to sort through!

I have a bit of a secret ... I don't remember any of my Christmas' before I had my daughter. I've been told about and have seen in a photo or two that I spent Christmas Eve at the country club with my adoptive mother, grandparents, aunt and cousins Nancy and Marylin when I was little. But I.do.not.remember. Any of them. Any Christmas' or trees with my adoptive mother. Any Christmas's with my adoptive dad and step-mother. I have no memories. Even when I look at the few photos I have of a few of them (and I mean a few - maybe two or three photos). So the holidays spent raising our daughter, and now ones spent with my grandsons, are so special to me. I go over the photos again and again each year, imprinting them on my memory so that I never ever forget another one.

I hope you had a good Christmas, and that all of us see a good new year.

(p.s. Astute viewers will notice that the background where the television is has changed ... we originally had an old table with leafs that had speakers on them, and then we had the chance to receive some free glass shelf units that give me much more horizontal space in our small living room.)

(p.p.s. I've had the plural of Christmas spelled three ways now! What in the world is the correct way?)