Love, Laughter, and the Map

Grampa went to heaven this morning.  Sunday was our last goodbye.  We snuck the triple threat in.  Scooting past security on the main floor only to get busted.  In true triple threat style.  Our naughty family traipsed to the visitors desk for our adults only pass.  We had to promise the pass granting volunteer  that the children would remain in the waiting room.  We lied.  We'd come all the way to Buffalo, from Maryland, and there was no way in hell the kids weren't breaking into that hospital room.  They had drawings to deliver after all.  It was worth it.  It made Grampa happy.  He was pissed at the same time .  He knew exactly what he wanted to tell us.  But it wouldn't come out.  He balled up his fist and shook it.  The damn stroke.  The unrelenting, one-sided, paralyzation.  The not being able to do what you could do, just days before.  I was pissed too.  It seemed so unfair.  But we knew what he was trying to say.  I love you.  We got the message.


Life isn't always fair.  It's not fair that those we love can't be here forever.  It's not fair that kids have to experience death.  It's not fair that parents have to explain it.  Lil has had many questions about death recently.  She wanted to know who kisses you at bedtime if your mom is in heaven.  Together, she and Grady decided that kisses can be sent from heaven.  She said Mom, you can't die yet, you're not even 16.  I didn't correct her.  Because while I may have unfortunately experienced 16, no, I can't die yet.  I have to be alive to see my dear grandchildren drive her absolutely crazy.  Almost to the point of being committed.  But not quite.  Because they'll be super cute.  Bringing her back from the brink.  Paybacks.  Years ago, my own mother cursed me.  She said one day, I would have triplets that acted exactly like me.  She was pretty damn close.  It's only fair that Lillian gets her turn too.  And that I get to witness it.


It's not fair that I can't remember anything.  Like how old I told Lillian I was, the last time that she asked.  Or where I hid the paci's, candy, van keys, beer, duct tape, and other important child/parent paraphernalia.  My mom says she's surprised that I remember where I live.  Given my triple threat circumstances. 

I think about death too.   Like, what will become of Dempsey after licking the floor at the athletic club?   And what exactly does it mean when your children have snot coming out of their eye balls?  It can't be good.  Will I die an untimely death due to poop asphyxiation?   Will my children only notice I'm gone when they can't find the paci's, candy, van keys, beer, and duct tape?  When I am gone, I hope they remember love and laughter.   And I hope they can find the map.  The one that tells them where the paci's, candy, van keys, beer, and duct tape are.

Grampa, please keep the kisses coming.  And the patience.  And the sanity.  And don't forget the beer.  I hope I made you laugh a little Grampa.  Until we meet again.  Then we'll laugh alot.

Grampa, help us keep them in line!

Mother of the future quadruple threat.  It's only fair.

Father of monkeys who jump off of high things multiple times a day.  It's only fair.

Father of five.  Ha!  Grampa, he needs all the help that he can get!

Grampa

Sean's grampa  had a massive stroke this morning.  He is a wonderful man.  And I don't have to say that.  But I'll say it again.  He is a wonderful man.  He loves his family dearly and you just can't help but love him back.  He is the family center.  Our universe.  A Navy veteran, retired fire fighter, husband, father, grandfather, and great grandfather.   He has the most incredible sense of humor.   You have to listen carefully and pay attention though.  His statements come out quick.  If you're not fast enough, you may just miss it.  Your loss. 

He's always accepted me.  And my family.  He asks how I'm doing.  And wants to know what kind of trouble my family is getting into.  He really likes trouble.  Then he listens.  Really listens.   You never know what you're going to get when your mom you choose a spouse.  You can't pick your in laws.  And neither can your mom.  If I could choose, I would pick mine.  Sean's family lives in Buffalo.  We don't see them enough.  Sometimes we wish we could pick up our house and move it to Buffalo.  Even if just for a little bit.  When we're lucky enough to see our Buffalo family, it's always a great time.  And everyone wants to be around G-Grampa (the triple threat's version of Great Grampa).  He is irresistible. 

When we're apart, G-Gram and G-Grampa always send us special letters.  G-Gram never forgets.  And always remembers to sign G-Grampa's name.  While he's off getting into trouble, no doubt. These letters are my treasures.

Hi,

Wish I could be there with you on Lil's special day.  bet you will have a lot of people to celebrate with you.  Tons of fun for our girl!

I will look forward to some pictures-not like being there tho.

You two are terrific parents!!

_____________________________________

Dear Sean & Lisa,
 
I feel so bad not being with you on Lillian's 1st birthday.  I would love to see first hand all the things I can brag about.  I know she is adorable, and bright and no doubt very active.  Hugable too.  It's hard to be so far away.

Hope you are well and enjoying life as you should.  Maybe we'll get to see you during the summer.  I sure hope so.  Give Lillian a kiss and a hug for us.

_______________________________________

Hi Lillian,

We really like the pretty Valentine you sent to us.  It is stuck on the fridge with a magnet so we can look at it.

_______________________________________

"Happy Easter"

Hope things are going well for you and that you sell your house for a ton of $ soon!

Have fun with Lillian on Easter.  I hope she likes this little book-it has always been a favorite of mine.

_______________________________________

Dear Sean & Lisa,

I know you will be having a really special & fun Christmas with Lillian & Grady.

Since I didn't know what to get for them, I'm hoping you will get them something they they need or want. Or use the check for the home.

I bought this DVD because the title reminded me of Lil.

Wishing you every joy!!

________________________________________

Hi Sean & Lisa,

Just want to say thanks for the pictures you sent!  They are precious to me.

We had some harried times but we're through it now.  Pretty much back to normal. 

I picture you all being busier than ever!!

________________________________________

Hi to all my lively Barnums!!

Sorry I missed Valentine's Day.  Without our usual deep snow I didn't notice what the date was, I guess.

Grady- how did you break your foot?  Hope it didn't hurt too much.  Hope it heals real quick!  Hope everyone is in 1 piece. 

Think about you - Love you always

________________________________________

Hey Lil, Grady, & Dempsey,

Have fun Trick-or-Treating!!  Did you guys make a Jack-o-Lantern yet?  Do you have scary, funny costumes?  Wish I could be there to see you all.

________________________________________

Hi to All:

Hope things are well with you all!! 

Lisa - Love your blogs.  Keeps me in touch.

Things have been hectic here - but better now.  Love you all so much.

________________________________________


Gram.  We love you.  You rock.  How do you put up with him? 

Grampa.  We love you.  You're a wonderful man. 

xxxxoooo

Who wouldn't want to kiss Grampa?

Grampa knew how to win Grady's heart, a really big pop.

He most definitely just said something absolutely hilarious.

Politics. Gasp. Here's My Take On It.

I don't like to talk about politics.  To anyone.  Except Finn.  It's very personal for me.  My thoughts have changed many times since I've been grown up enough to take it seriously.  Not because of another person's perspective, but because I have changed.  I've gone to college and gotten married.  Held jobs.  Paid taxes.  Set up savings and retirement accounts.  Given birth.  Three times.  Everything changes when you have children.  Sean and I have purchased a home and a minivan.  Selected health, car, and mortgage insurance.  We've voted.

The president has the worst.job.ever.  I would not want to trade places.  Any presidential candidate has got to have balls.  The president is often hated and takes the blame for others' decisions.  They are the soccer goalie.  By the time the ball is whizzing past, the rest of their team has failed.  Each candidate had great qualities.  As well as a few that I'd like to pretend didn't exist.  Just like me and you.  Because they are like me and you.  They just happen to be running for president.  And have really big balls.  Congrats Ann and Michelle.  When the day is done, at least you have that.

Each strive for a better country.  In their own way.  I respect them both.  I don't believe that any one president can destroy or save our world.  I think that's up to us.  As humans.  As the non-presidents.  The people.  Members of the United States of America.  A team where no one should be the goalie.  And take all the blame.

My voting experience this week was memorable. I brought the triple threat.  The waiting time, from my original place in line, was over an hour.  After a few voters got run over by an errant stroller and Grady and Dempsey battled out their political views in toddler speak, a poll volunteer offered to move us to the front of the line.  It was a special request from our priest and parish secretary, who were standing behind us.  I think Father Jeff was pissed that the baptisms didn't work.  He's the goalie.  Obviously someone forgot to bless the holy water.  Three times.  After fifteen minutes, we were escorted to the check in table.  Not one person complained.  At least not out loud.  When we finally made it to the booth, I was proud.  For the privilege to vote, and for the kindness of others who recognized my precarious situation.  However, I may have voted for Skittles.

My husband Sean is a teacher and a member of the United States Air Force.  He educates our youth and protects our country.  I can't think of any two more admirable positions.  He's also a bartender.  Sean gets people liquored up.  Another admirable position.  I've heard of people detesting teachers and loathing the military, but really, who has anything bad to say about a bartender?   Sean and I lead our family team.  We don't always make the right decisions.  And when we don't, we blame it on the triple threat.  We are the goalies after all.  Someone must have fumbled by the time it gets back to us.   I think it was Lillian.  Or Grady.  Or Dempsey.  They are honing thier team skills. There's always Finn to blame.  She has two too many legs.  But in the end, we always fight for what is best for our family and the world that our children will one day live in without us.  I can only trust that the president, whomever he or she may be, does the same.  Just like you and me.  God bless America.

Educating America's youth.  Mars and Venus in the Bedroom. 

You wanna know somethin' about politics?  I'll tell ya somethin' about politics!

Finn's done with all of them.

Parking Space Wars

Handicapped people are definitely losing the parking space wars.  First, they got the nudge with the pregnant women parking.  Next, it was customers with small children.  Now, it's people hauling baby carriers.  At the athletic club where Lil and Grady take swim lessons, there are four spots for parents carrying baby carriers.  These four spaces are much closer than the handicapped spots.  Each time we drive by them, Grady shouts for me to park there.   This past week I reminded him that those spots are only for people with baby carriers.  He squealed with delight, "Mom, you're a baby carrier!"  Just what I always wanted to be.

Lil decided last night that she wants to be a hairdresser.  I've always been anal when it comes to the kids and scissors.  I never let them use scissors until Lillian got marked down on her preschool report card for her lack of cutting skills.  The teacher sent me home with a packet of shapes for her to cut out and suggested I have her clip coupons.  I don't even cut coupons.  If I happen to trip over the coupon circular, I rip a couple out with my bare hands, put them in my bag, then use them to wipe noses.  I offered for Lillian to go to her teacher's home for remedial cutting practice.  Mrs. Cutsalot decided Lil's skills weren't so bad after all.  So...like any wannabe good mom, I bought some scissors.  I doled them out as if they were chef's knives.  Afraid that at any moment, someone might get stabbed.  Or cut their hair off.  Then it happened.  I was talking to my mom on the phone.  I knew I was on too long.  I knew the kids were too quiet.  I knew that the bedroom door was closed.  I should have known someone was either being stabbed or cutting their hair off.  Because that's what moms do.  They know everything.  Well...at least no one got stabbed.  But Lil's hair took quite a hacking.  She said she was practicing.  She lopped off her hair at the nape of her neck and cut herself some bangs.   They are the widest bangs you have ever seen.  They start behind her ears.  Do not let Lillian cut your hair.  No matter what she tells you she's going to be when she grows up.

The crime scene.  I'm not sure if Lil looked in the mirror or took direction from Grady.

She claims she was trying to be neat by collecting some hair in the Build-a-Bear box.  I knew I hated that damn place for a reason  It's a conspiracy. Build a bear... then cut your hair.

After the late night fix.  Cuteness.

I am thankful we had our family pictures taken last weekend.  Pre-hacking.  We picked up an extra family member that day.  Brooky.  A horny caterpillar.  Named after Lil's friend at church school.  The one with long hair.  You should probably warn her.   I've never seen anything like this caterpillar.  It was hairless and had one sharp spike on its' butt.  I'm not quite sure if it was hairless prior to Lil discovering it.  She kept Brooky in her pocket the entire time.  Until she realized Brooky was smooched.  And had squirted horny caterpillar poop throughout her pocket.  Because it's just not a good day unless poop is involved.  Poop finds me.  Everywhere.  We wiped out the poop with a couple of coupons tissues and that was the end of Brooky. 

I am full of crap.  I will fit right in with your family.  Please include me in your photo shoot.  Love, Brooky.
Image Source

Dear Athletic Club,

I should have my own personal parking space.  I am very important.  I have three young children that enjoy scissors, horny caterpillars, and poop.  If you agree, please check yes.

__ Yes.  You are a very important person.   We will create a personal parking space for your lazy ass.  Screw the handicapped people.  They suck.

__ No.  You suck.  It's called the G-Y-M for a reason.  Get Your Massive ass moving. 


Sincerely,

Mom of the triple threat
xxxooo