No more Double-Dog Dares

Even though I was the older (and supposedly wiser) sibling, Jimmy could always get me to do anything. He'd double-dog dare me, give me his best "Uncle Bobby shit-eatin' grin," promise to come along, and then off I'd go, my better judgment and any fears left behind. Years of my "personal scientific experiments" proved to me, he really was the only one to be trusted without reservation. Our adventures were never too dangerous because he always offered to go along, and he wasn't cruel, so whatever he had in store for me usually ended up being a blast once I put my eldest-child phobias and fears aside. So there I was yesterday at Darien Lake, being cajoled by my eldest to get on the Superman roller coaster. Feet planted firmly on solid ground, I stared up at the highest point of the coaster — 200 feet in the air — knowing I'd never get on it of my own accord and the only person who could possibly convince me to strap myself in next to him for the ride was gone from my life forever.

It's the little things like this that trip me on my road through grief. Something so benign as a roller coaster I have no interest in riding, makes me catch my breath and I see another hole in the fabric that's me created by Jimmy's absence.

The Tower of Terror - Disney World 2003

"Just having a little fun with you" said the Cosmic God

12:55pm Sunday afternoon. The first of Sean's classmates arrives, the storm clouds gather and it starts to rain! It continues to rain as the rest of the class arrives, and just for fun, the Cosmic God (which I just told my neighbor Brian didn't exist during our euchre game the other night when he and Mark started to get a little "uppity" with their winning hands) threw in a single clap of thunder. I was getting pretty worried as all of us huddled under our 24'x12' canopy. Thankfully, the Cosmic God was just having a little fun with me and the single rain cloud in the sky passed by in about 20 minutes. By 12:50, it was sunny and warm and the kids were enjoying the pool.

It appeared to me that the kids had a lot of fun. They ate, ran around, swam, had a whiffle ball game with Mr. Michalski, and even convinced my daughter to fill water balloons for them. The three hours passed very quickly. I met a lot of nice parents, which as your children get older you find you don't know the parents like you did when they were in Kindergarten and just about every mom or dad volunteered in the school. I'm sure Sean will remember for a long time that we had the end-of-the-year party at his house. I'm glad we did it. And Gloria Gaynor was correct - I did survive. :-)

I think I've finally gone over the edge!

I want to start this post by saying right up front - "I'm not a big fan of children." Oh, I love mine well enough, and I adore my niece and nephew, but in general I just don't care for them. I imagine my feelings towards children is how many people view exercise or vegetables...something necessary for health and life, but you'd much rather sit on your butt watching TV and having a big old bacon-blue cheeseburger or piece of double-chocolate chunk cake.

So what then, besides I've absolutely LOST MY MIND, would possess me to sign up to host the end of the year party for Sean's 4th grade class? Yet, there I was, back in October at open house saying to Mark "Oh look - Mr. Michalski would like to have an end of the year pool party for the class. Wanna do it?" And my dear husband, who doesn't care for children any more than I do, said "Sure, why not?!" Well, if truth be told, I think his response was more like "Are you sure?" Then I think he was just so shocked I suggested it, he said "Why not."

"Why not?" I say. Because here we are two days before 25 4th graders, about 6 parents, and one teacher, are ready to descend upon my home and IT'S GOING TO RAIN! And not just a nice summer shower late in the afternoon. It's going to be cloudy and thunderstorm. Now what?

I'm a bit strange in that I have rules. I've made up these rules based on years of personal scientific experiments. For example, NEVER, EVER get in a grocery line with a male running the register - even if his line is totally empty and all the others snake around the store for miles. Invariably, I'm enticed into breaking this rule, I end up being the last one through all the lines, all my groceries are smashed in the bags, and I end up saying to myself "I have rules for a reason. Why, oh why, don't I follow them?"

My scientific experiment for my "don't ever have children for a party in your home" rule comes from way back. 1996 - Kirsten's 4th birthday. I decide to have a fun girly birthday party at our house. I invite a dozen little girls who arrive totally decked out in dress up clothes, hats, mom's high heel shoes, etc... But it's okay because I have a plan. I've enlisted my new sister-in-law to come over and help me paint finger nails and toes. We've got jewelry making stations, make up and hair stations. We are PREPARED. Within 30 minutes all the girls have gone through all our prepared stations and are looking at me like "Okay, now what?" "Now what? I'll tell you Now What? NOTHING - I've got NOTHING." Thank goodness Aunt Kate and Uncle Jim had given Kirsten some totally cool outdoor toys for her birthday, so the girls ribbon danced and did some sort of hop scotchy thing. From that point on, my children have always had their birthday parties where all I do is write a check for X hours of entertainment!

So, if you see me outside all day tomorrow and Sunday morning doing the "Un-rain dance," you'll know why and you'll know not to approach the crazy lady unless you're carrying some "mother's little helper!"

PS - That's Jim holding Kirsten in the background of that last picture. Unlike his big sister, he was amazing with kids.

"The" Swingset

So here it is...in all it's glory...the swingset Kate and I carted to Kohler from Cosco's in Milwaukee by ourselves. It certainly is grand. The back side has a rock wall and rope ladder. Rachel and Jake will have a wonderful summer playing on it. Kate will get a bit of a respite allowing the kids to go out and be entertained on it. The kids need some smiles and laughter this summer, and this is sure to deliver.

Good, "afternoon by the pool" reading

My friend Amy and I went down to the library's annual book sale on Friday morning. My sister-in-law, Jo Anne, clued me in to how many great books you could get cheap (and James Robert would tell ya'll that I'm cheap...although I prefer the term "bargain-hunter"), so when I saw the advertisement for the sale, I knew I had to go. We bought some great books at $1 per hardcover and $.50 per paperback. As we paid, they reminded us to come back the next day for their $2.00 for a bag of books sale. $2.00 for as many books as will fit in one of those plastic grocery bags! I took the kids down to see what was left. On a whim, I threw a bunch of paperbacks into my bag. I wanted some books that I didn't care if they got a bit wet while reading in and around the pool.

I picked up "{THE} HOURS" by Michael Cunningham. It's not a book I would typically pick up, as the cover has picture from a movie based on the book. I'm a bit odd in that as a general rule I feel books should be books, and movies should be movies. Whenever they meet, people are usually disappointed. But this particular book swayed me with the "Winner of the pulitzer prize" tag...which of course, like all good marketing, worked to reel me in.

Anyhow, it was fantastic! A quick afternoon's read. I got to the final chapter and the relationship of one of the characters to the others dawned on me and I sucked in a breath. It was just fantastic. I highly recommend it. If you don't mind a bit of warped pages from pool water - I'm willing to lend out my copy.

Oh - and here's another piece of advice...skip "The Haunting." I was very disappointed in it. I absolutely love M. Night Shyamalan's work. This had moments, but there just wasn't enough of his brilliance to carry the entire movie. I felt sort of gypped. Of course, Betty Buckley got high billing in the opening credits, so I guess I should've known...the last time I've seen Betty Buckley was in 1980 on "Eight is Enough!" It seemed more like a Made for TV movie. A pretty good one...but still not quite big screen material.

My oldest turns 16 today

Jim and Kirsten - June 1992

Funny...I was just remembering Jimmy's 16th birthday and today Kirsten turned 16. I think back to what Jim & I were each like at 16. One thing is for certain - we thought we were pretty invincible. As long as you didn't get in a car with a stranger or someone who'd been drinking, you'd live forever. Such simple rules we lived by. The world gets so much more complicated as we grow up. Okay, well the world's always complicated, but at 16 it doesn't seem to be.

I feel for my mom and dad today. I look at Kirsten and want her to dream big and go for it. I know my parents felt the same for Jimmy and me. Looking at the photo of Jimmy's 16th, never in a million years would I have imagined those dreams ending so soon. I look into Kirsten's face and can't see her future any more clearly than I saw Jim's. But I send up wishes to the heavens for health and happiness.

Today's happiness is pretty simple - the new M. Night Shyamalan with Mom (me) and her friend Roya. Then a sleepover. Life is good for her today, and that's all I can ask for.

Happy 16th Birthday Kirsten. Love - Momma

An awesome birthday and one totally cool sister!

I read Kate's blog where she told of Jimmy complaining about his birthday always falling on John Calvin's family camping weekend. We did go quite a few years on Memorial Day and Labor Day weekends and it was a blast - one of my favorite things to do as a kid. But it got me thinking about Jimmy's birthdays.
The year he turned 16, I threw him a surprise birthday party at my apartment at RIT. How is that for a totally cool sister?
Okay, well I was semi-cool...I started freaking out when Mike Brown carted in the beer ball and stuck it in my sink, so I ran upstairs to hide and sent my boyfriend down to make sure Campus Safety didn't get called! I think they all had a really good time, and it was one time I got to play the role of totally cool older sister.

Happy 39th Birthday

It's been a long, tiring month emotionally. We drove to Wisconsin over Memorial Day weekend to scatter Jim's ashes on Forest Lake. Forest Lake is just about as far north in Wisconsin as you can get without having dual-citizenship (although there's a small slice of Michigan that gets in the way of the Canadian border). The picture above shows just how beautiful it is there. You can see why Jim loved it and wanted it to be his final resting place. It was worth the 17 hour drive to be part of the memorial Kate arranged.

We scattered Jim's ashes on our final day there. It turned out to be the perfect "Jim" day. It was sunny, but cool - a flannel shirt & jeans day - Jim's favorite. The long weekend had passed, so there wasn't anyone else on the lake. Kate's dad took us all out on the pontoon boat. As we left the dock, there was an eagle perched in one of the highest trees keeping an eye on us. Two flew in the sky as we motored between the two sites where we let Jim's ashes go. I believe that was significant. In Native American culture, both Bald and Golden Eagles are highly revered and considered sacred within their traditions and religion. Eagles are honored with great care and shown the deepest respect. They represent honesty, truth, majesty, strength, courage, wisdom, power and freedom. As they roam the sky, they are believed to have a special connection to God. The Eagle is considered to be a messenger to God. It was given the honor of carrying the prayers of man between the World of Earth and the World of Spirit, where the Creator and grandfathers reside. How fitting is that?

I had been really nervous about scattering Jim's ashes - another symbolic gesture of letting him go. Enough time had gone by that the shock that gets you through the funeral services that immediately follow death was gone. Was I going to completely lose it? I held it together. In the end, Jim wasn't any more gone than he was before we scattered his ashes. The wonderful stories and memories we shared of him around the dinner table were exactly the same before we scattered his ashes as they were after.

We finished up our visit by celebrating Jim's life and his 39th birthday. Kate's mom, Jenny, had ordered a beautiful white cake with a deer on it. Rachel helped Grandmommy light the candles on Daddy's cake and carry it out. We all sang Happy Birthday to Jim. I am eternally grateful to Kate for arranging such a wonderful private memorial service for Jim over his birthday. I also want to say thank you to Kate's parents, Tom & Jenny, for opening their home to the six of us.

Happy Birthday Bo. I miss you every single day. Love - Jude