Just For Brenda

I was vacuuming the living room the other day and John stole it away from me. So he sat and played with the vacuum for quite awhile, pushing the buttons and sucking up the drapes. I thought of you Brenda. You'd be so proud.

Thanksgiving

1. the act of giving thanks; grateful acknowledgment of benefits or favors, esp. to God.
2. an expression of thanks, esp. to God.
3. a public celebration in acknowledgment of divine favor or kindness.
4. a day set apart for giving thanks to God.

It's both easy and difficult to know what to be thankful for this year. I am thankful that my mother is still with us yet I am confused and struggling to understand why she had the stroke to begin with. My mother who lived for her family. Who struggled and worked her fingers to the bone each and every day of her life. Who made all of us feel special and loved. Who welcomed everyone into her home like they were her long lost child. My mother who only wants the simple things in life, to be loved, to laugh, to have friends, to have her family around her, to watch her tv show, read her books and work on her puzzles. It's hard to understand why her. I want to rail against the Gods and scream and cry and scream and cry some more. I struggle every second of every day with these thoughts and these tears. Don't pity me. Don't cry for me. Don't even try to understand me. I am especially troubled with the thought of mortality. My mortality. My mother. Steven. Even John. And it scares me. How long do we really have? I could sit here and feel sorry for myself or I could make a difference with my life. I could be the best person I could be and enjoy my life. I could enjoy others around me. I don't want to have any regrets. I don't want to look back and think "coulda, woulda, shoulda". I also don't want others to think ill of me. I'd like to think that people would say, "That Lori, she sure was a nice gal. So kind and thoughtful."

So really, what am I thankful for?

I am thankful for life.

Joy

And really, the only reason he's so happy is because he picked up the pair of socks. Ya gotta love being a kid.

15 and counting

Lookee who's 15 months old. (the sad part? I had to count it out on my fingers...)

He's so much fun. And so amazing. He's learning new things every day and it boggles the mind how he learns it. He'll reach up and grab your finger with his chubby little hand and you'll walk with him, either down the block or across the room. Just being with you is all he wants. He runs across the room to grab a book to give you, let you read 2 pages and slam the pages shut. He'll "read" the book himself. So adorable, especially since 9 times out of 10 the book is upside down. He'll pet Riley, so soft and gentle and put his head close for a Riley kiss. Then he'll come over and bite one of us. (John that is, not the dog)

Nighttime is awesome. There's bathtime, quiet cuddle time, good nights & prayers. And then kisses and I lay him in his crib, cover him up and walk away. Steven is totally the baby whisperer.

John is an absolute great little boy. He was a good baby and fingers crossed for a good toddler. We've been blessed to have such a laid back kid. He's got the best facial expressions. I love him so much.

Stick to Ya Goodness

Waffles & Syrup.

Poor Riley, even his head had syrup on it.

What a bad mommy. Sticking cookies on her baby.

Who doesn't like rib night?

Overheard

Steven & I were brainstorming on how we could get Riley into the hospital to visit my mom. And he came up with the brilliant idea of pretending to be blind and that Riley was a service dog. Which would work up until Rye starting bolting down the hallway dragging Steven behind him and knocking down poor unsuspecting patients. Anyway, that's not the funny part. Later that week I was telling my Uncle Nobby the story. We talked about that and then we (me, Uncle, Auntie Rosie & Dawna) were chatting about other stuff (another funny). Then out of the blue, Uncle Nobby blurts out ..."Your dog is blind?"

Same uncle, same day, same conversation. My mom has a heart condition called hypertrophic cardiomyopathy. It is a genetic condition. All close relatives must get tested periodically. So Dawna asked Uncle Nobby (my mom's brother) if he had the same heart condition. And he answered "No, just with the women". So we thought he was being charming and meant that the women gave his heart palpitations. Apparently he meant the heart condition was more prevalent in females!

Same uncle, same day, different conversation. I needed to go to the bank to get more money so I asked him where the closest RBC was. It's been ages since I've done any kind of banking in my hometown so I didn't know where anything was. He's trying to tell me where it is and then his eyes light up and he bursts out with "it's right beside the Gas King. Yes, the Gas King". So I look him squarely in the eye and ask "ok, now where is the Gas King?"

So we were at my parent's yesterday and today. Last night we were watching TV with my dad and I swear I could see Steven's head starting to smoke.

My dad has the remote and is flipping channels....

slowly...

very, very slowly...

Steven: you're going too slowly

still flipping channels

Steven: Jim...you're going too slowly...give me the remote

my dad still flipping channels slowly.

and then he stops.

on the french station.

and he's still on the french station.

Steven: Jim...you don't even speak french. Give me the remote.

And he got up, walked across the room and grabbed the remote.

And then my cousin told me a funny one about her dad. Different uncle.

My other cousin lives in a gated community. They were telling their dad about this gated community. They were talking. My aunt and uncle were quiet. And then he asked..."he lives in a gay community?"

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

We went to Beaners to get John's first haircut. FIRST HAIRCUT. I've been putting it off and off because I just couldn't bear the thought of cutting my baby's hair. And then Steven was all "why are we going to a salon, can't we do it ourselves?" and "why don't you just get it done on the weekend when I'm camping?". Until I told him my reasons. It's the first haircut, I think it's sort of a big deal. It's very sentimental and it's a milestone. So after I explained all this, he thought that perhaps he'd like to be there too.

I thought maybe he'd get to sit in the car, since he kept on walking up the car and touching it... the BARBIE car. And then maybe, just maybe I could also see Steven's head explode. But he was too little for the cars.

So he got to sit in the driver's chair.

And while he did not cry, he wasn't exactly jumping for joy to have a

stranger touch his hair, head and wield some shiny sharp things

around him. (that he wasn't allowed to touch!)

Pushing the hair dresser away.

Very displeased with this whole "hair-cutting" thing.

Being distracted by Elmo and Spiderman.

Look at him. He looks like a little boy. It makes me all teary.

So happy, that's it is all done. He's such a happy little fellow.