Jul
31
When I was a kid, I always went to the Kittanning Folk Festival with my grandma. It was special something we did together. Even after my parents and I moved hours away, I made the trip back to my hometown each summer to visit the festival with her. Today, I got to go with my girls, their cousins and, of course, my grandma.
It was magical.
Jul
30
Time Well Spent
by Leslie
Some people go to the beach or a lake, on a cruise or to an amusement park for a vacation. I’ve been spending my time with the newest members of my family.
What could be more refreshing?
Jul
29
The Good News and the Bad News
by Leslie
The good news is my placenta previa has corrected itself. There are no words to describe the relief I feel.
The bad news is I have beautiful ultrasound images to share with you, but I have to wait until I return from a short trip to Pennsylvania to visit my family. We headed here straight from my appointment, so I haven’t had the chance to scan them, yet. (P.S. Don’t tell my doctor where I am. I’m not supposed to travel this far in my third trimester, so sshhhhh! It’s a secret!)
Also, I’m making too much amniotic fluid. This explains why I’m looking and measuring so big. Phoebe’s size is perfect. She’s just got a big pool to swim in while she waits to make her entrance. The same thing happened when I was pregnant with Julia, so I’m not worried, which is really a lie because worrying is what I do. I’m a little worried. But less worried about the amniotic fluid than I was about the placenta previa. I traded up on worries today. That’s not so bad.
Jul
27
Making A Cake
by Leslie
“That’s all we’re getting?” Julia asks, nodding toward the pack of butter in my otherwise empty grocery cart.
“Uh huh.”
“Cause that’s all the money we have?” She looks concerned.
I take stock of the faces turning our way, smile and say, “That’s all we need.”
But that’s not true. We have eighty-one cents in our account and three more days until payday. I had syphoned gas from the lawn tractor to put in the van to get us to the store. Money is tight. But it happens sometimes. Times have been tougher for us, if you can believe it. That doesn’t bother me as much as the fact that this is the first time Julia noticed it.
I pay for our butter, load the girls back up in the van and head home. The gas light blinks on and I increase the volume on the radio. The girls are too busy singing, “…somethin’ tells me I’m into something good” to hear the we-need-gas-ding.
We get home and immediately begin working on a cake, from scratch of course. It’s Grandma and Grandpa’s 35 year anniversary, so we decide to use the heart-shaped pans. The girls are so excited. They stand at the counter, watching the cakes cool. What they really want is the icing. Is it time yet?
I make up a batch of my buttercream. Julia suggests we make it a color and remembers that red and blue make purple, so that’s what we do. I sit at the table to ice the cake. The girls sit underneath it at my feet without realizing I can hear their plans to nab some icing.
“Spoons!” Lucy suggests.
Julia is more cautious and says they’ll use their fingers to get a lick when I get up. I clear my throat and shuffle my feet. She gets the hint. “Maybe if we’re patient,” she says a little too loudly, “Mom will let us lick the bowl.” And I do.
When I put the food coloring away, I discover some blue sprinkles in the back of the cabinet and let the girls add them to the cake. They ask me to call Grandma to find out when she’ll get here. The waiting is torture.
We make spaghetti – with meatballs, as it is a special day – and serve what Lucy calls “the love cake” for dessert.
Julia declares it “the best meal ever.” And at bedtime, as I lay in bed beside her with my arms about her, she tells me, “We have the perfect family,” before she falls asleep.
But I am still thinking about the butter.
Jul
26
When Julia started Kindergarten, she immediately became friends with a girl I’ll call Rhonda.
Of course, Rhonda isn’t her real name. I’d love it if it was, though. I’d be all, “Help me, Rhonda!” Man, I love The Beach Boys. Especially during summer. It just feels so….right!
Anyway.
Julia adored Rhonda and talked about her all the time. So much so that I made it a point to introduce myself to Rhonda’s mother one day at school pick up.
Me: “Hi! Are you Rhonda’s mom?”
Rhonda’s Mom: “Yeah.”
Me: “I’m Leslie – Julia’s mom.”
I extended a hand of friendship.
Rhonda’s Mom: “…..”
She looked at my hand like I was trying to feel her up. Or kill her.
I pulled my hand back and brushed at invisible lint on my pants in an effort to look a little less awkward and rejected.
Me: “Well, Julia talks about Rhonda all the time. I think they’re becoming very good friends.”
Rhonda’s Mom: “How do you know who I am?”
Me: “Well, we’ve been picking up our kids here every day for a month…”
Yeah, Rhonda’s mom was kind of a giant asshole. But, Julia still loved Rhonda as evidenced in the first half of her Kindergarten memory book.
Page 3:
“I get along with….Rhonda.”
Page 5:
“My favorite day is playing with….Rhonda.”
Page 6:
And look! There’s a picture she drew of Rhonda.
But then, one day, suddenly and mysteriously, Julia and Rhonda were no longer friends. I inquired, many times, about what happened, but all I would get was a shrug from Julia.
I’ll admit, there was a small sense of relief. I knew there was no way I’d ever let Julia go over to Rhonda’s house. Her mom was a jerk. But, I could tell Julia was disappointed that they were no longer friends and that felt terrible.
Her disappointment didn’t last, however, as she became fast friends with a lovely girl with a perfectly delightful mother.
So, yesterday. After months and months of asking and wondering, I gained some insight into the falling out of Julia and Rhonda and I pounced on it like it was the juiciest piece of gossip I’d ever heard.
Julia had mentioned Rhonda in passing and my mother asked her, “Whatever happened with you two? Why aren’t you friends anymore?”
And Julia didn’t shrug. SHE SPOKE. She said, “I’m not one of the sexy girls.”
Okay, what does that mean?
“You’re not?” my mom asked.
“Rhonda is a sexy girl. She plays with Bratz dolls and stuff….my mom doesn’t allow me to. Sexy stuff isn’t for kids. So, I’m not a sexy girl.”
“But that’s okay, you know,” my mom told her.
“Oh, I know, Grandma. It’s okay. Sometimes when the other sexy girls aren’t around, Rhonda will still play with me. But I still have other friends.”
And I almost couldn’t contain myself. She listened.
This just may go down as one of my proudest moments.
Stuff I Do
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Stuff You Should Do
You know, Stuff.
