Tattletale

The neighborhood we live in is one big circle, closed in by a gate at the front. Somehow, we have 4 different streets in this small third of a mile length of road. It seems to me it would be easier to just make it one big circle or court, but that has nothing to do with this story.

When we first looked at this neighborhood it was no where near complete. There were empty lots and long strips of land with no sidewalks. Since then, which was just August 2011, a new house has been started almost every single month. Which means lots of construction, lots of large trucks and loud noises, and an audience if I decide to mow the yard. (Which also has nothing to do with this story, but is still extremely annoying. If I wanted to be stared at while sweating I'd go to a gym...or a pool.)

For reference:

The weekend we bought our land.

(Please forgive my blurry pictures. I'm not the best with photoshop, which I don't even own.)

2011
The red X is our land.

2012
What a difference!

So all of that setup is to tell a funny story about Brenden. His friends from across the street often play in the yard next door, which is a house that is almost completed. I don't let the kids play over there in case there are any nails or other construction debris that could be harmful. I know that makes me over protective and helicopter parent-ish, and even a little bit selfish since it's only because I don't want to have to deal with the insanity of taking a child to the ER on the off chance that they do get hurt. It's a constant fight that I will be very happy to end when the new family moves in.

We were driving home from school and Brenden was drilling me, as usual, about what he was allowed to do when we got home. "Can I go outside?" "Can I ride my bike?" "Can I play with Grant and Conor?" "Can I play in the front yard?" "Can I play in the dirt?"

That last question is what started our entire debate. He would ask if he could play in the dirt, I would repeat that no, I did not want him stepping on a nail or getting hurt. He would cry and whine and flail and then ask again. Repeat for what felt like hours. Finally, he decided he was done with the conversation and said,

"You're mean! You're not my mommy anymore! I'm gonna live with GRANDMA!"

I couldn't help it...I laughed. He said it with such force and he meant it. He glared at me from the backseat and I could see his brain working to decide what to say next. Finally, he made his decision.

"I'm gonna live with grandma Ginger. You're mean! I'm gonna TELL YOUR MOM!"

Yes, he threatened to tell my mom on me. You can imagine the look I got when I busted out laughing again. I'm totally against laughing at my kids when they are upset, or whining at them when they are whining, but I just couldn't help it.

And mom, if you're reading this, thanks for telling Brenden you supported my decision. I think he forgave us. :)

Through His Eyes

"Brenden, who is my mommy?" I ask.

"Grandma Ginger!" he says excitedly.

"And who is daddy's mommy?"

He lights up and exclaims, "Grandma Connie!"

"And whose belly did I grow in?"

He scrunches his eyebrows and concentrates before answering happily, "Grandma Karen!"

"And why did grandma Karen give me to grandma Ginger?"

He smiles, hugs my neck and says, "Because grandma Ginger is your mommy. And now, I get to have three grandmas. I'm a lucky boy!"

Yes, kiddo. And I'm a lucky girl.

A Little Piece of My Own History

I think one of the hardest things for a family member to do after a loved one dies is to sort through their things. Every scrap of paper, every folded sock, every dusty box holds a different memory that can make you burst out laughing or break your heart all over again.

This past weekend, Tim and I took some time to go to my grandma Halter's house to pick up the curio cabinets and lawn furniture that my mom said were ours and to see if there was anything else we would like to keep. I mentioned to Tim, while sorting through the stacks of jewelry that my grandma owned, that it felt as though we were stealing. When I repeated this to my mom she said that a lot of the family had felt the same way. We know that grandma would want her things to stay with someone, but we also knew just how important every little thing was to her.

It wasn't difficult to find things that I wanted to keep. There was some beautiful cut crystal pieces that I loved, as well as a chair that I thought looked really cool. I was drawn to a metal jewelry box and gold mirror in the spare bedroom. Brenden became the new owner of a few cap guns and Lauren has a new Lissi doll. We found a few things for our kitchen and Tim was intrigued by the clock in the bedroom.

The Lissi doll with her "adoption" papers...all in German.

(Side note: The clock is actually one that my parents bought in Germany when we lived there in the early 1980's. My mom said that they had a friend whose family still lived on the communist side of Berlin and she was able to get them two different clocks. We aren't sure who the maker is, but I'm really glad that we have it now.)

Of course, there were also odds and ends that will always remind me of my grandparents. The trivet from the kitchen, as well as the tiny Tupperware cups that I always thought were so neat. A Tom Mix Museum sign and the hand painted Buddha that my grandma made long ago. A few old photographs, including one of my grandma that was made into a calendar, and the green hat with a white feather that is one of my favorite memories of my grandpa.

One of the last things that I convinced Tim to move was a side table from the den. I thought it would work really well in our eat in kitchen, which will now be more of a sitting room. (We never used that table. By the way, Justin it's waiting for you!) When I mentioned to my mom that we were bringing it home she was much more excited than I expected. Without knowing it, I had chosen a piece of furniture that my grandparents bought right after they moved into their house in Dewey, which was at least 50 years ago.

I feel very lucky to be trusted with these tiny pieces of my family's history. I feel blessed that every day I will be able to glance at that silly hat and smile. More than anything, I feel a sense of peace knowing that these things are with me.

Erma Jean Halter

This afternoon, surrounded by her family, my grandma passed away. I know right now she is up in heaven dancing with my grandpa. Thank you to everyone who has sent thoughts and prayers. They are very, very appreciated.

We love and miss you, grandma.