Sunday, December 20, 2009


This weekend about 18" of snow fell at our home. It came in the middle of the night while we were sleeping. When we woke up the ground was covered with a thick blanket of snow. It was beautiful. My husband wasn't as enthusiastic about it. I understand his point. When he sees snow he can feel the cold in his bones, anticipate all the traffic problems for his work day and the hours spent shoveling our very long driveway.

I love snow. When I see snow I feel like I'm in another world. It's crisp. Bright. Clean. Peaceful. Quiet. It reminds me of my childhood. We lived in a neighborhood with other kids my brother's and my age.

I don't remember what year it was, but I remember one snow in particular from my childhood. At the end of our driveway, just in between our house and our neighbors house was a street light. Dad got our driveway and sidewalk cleared and there was a huge mound of snow piled around the light post. A bunch of us kids decided to pack it down and make a "snow chair". It was awesome. There were probably half a dozen of us out there all working together to form this 'snow chair'. After the chair was finished we all took turns sitting in it and pretending to be the Ruler of some distant land.

After playing with that for several hours we went on to our front yard and gathered most of the snow in the front yard into a huge mound and made a snow fort. We sent my brother in to dig our a tunnel for us to all get in and dig out enough room for us to all fit in it. The guys dug and the girls made a window, the 'front door' and 'back door' of the fort.

Those were the good ol' days. That was back in a time were there were no computers, Xbox, Play Station, cell phones or even TV channels dedicated to cartoons/kid shows all day long. We played outside. In the fresh crisp air.

Unfortunately I wasn't prepared for this snow storm we just got. My kids don't have snow suits or gloves warm enough for playing in the snow. My son did go out for over an hour while Charlie was shoveling our front porch and walkway. I had him bundled in a wool lined thick jean coat, jeans with a fleece lining inside and 2 pairs of baby socks to cover his hands. He was having a blast trying to grab 'handfuls' of snow to throw at Charlie or at me on the other side of the front door.

The next day the snow was finally done falling. Charlie got bundled up to shovel our very long gravel driveway. Tabytha got herself dressed and I got John and Jessi bundled up. We all went outside to play. John was having fun, Tabytha soon lost interest and Jessi was miserable. She refused to walk and just stood wherever I put her. She had no interest in the snow. I don't blame her, it was pretty windy outside and the snow was nearly up to her armpits.

I think, as my youngest ones get older (and I'm more prepared with warm gloves and snow suits) we'll all have the same kind of fun I did when I was a kid.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

It Runs In The Family

22 years ago I committed my first felony. I forged my mothers name. I was 7 and in second grade. I don't remember the circumstances leading to a letter from the teacher to my parents, but I was suppose to deliver it. Whatever I had done I didn't want my parents to know about so I hid the note from the teacher and signed my mother's name at the bottom. I took it back to school the next day and gave it to my teacher assuring her my mom had seen it.

Let me just say, my mom has the most beautiful handwriting of anyone I've ever known. I had relatively good handwriting for a 2nd grader. It was neat and legible. Nothing compared to my mom's calligraphic handwriting, though. So, my attempt at signing my mom's fancy handwritten name stuck out like a sore thumb.

I got busted.

Fast forward to yesterday. My oldest daughter is now in second grade. She does well in school, loves to read, has her own circle of friends. . .etc. . .

Yesterday I had a similar experience with Tabytha that my mom had with me so many years ago.
Normally, after Tabytha gets off the school bus she gets a snack, does her homework, gets her chores done and then has the rest of the evening to play, watch a show or two or read.

Sometime after Tabytha had finished her homework and I was in the middle of wrangling one of the little one's, she started writing on a paper. Nothing out of the ordinary. She loves to draw and there's usually some blank paper on the table for when she or John get the urge to draw a picture. So, when I came into the dinning room and Tabytha quickly stood up and put the paper and pen behind her back I knew something was up.

I put my hand out and asked "what are you hiding?". She gives me the pen she was using while her other hand was clenched behind her back. I asked for the paper behind her back and she gives it to me. I look at it and it's the reading calender that the school gives each student. It's a calendar that parents sign off on each day of the week their child reads at home. At the end of the month the calendar is turned in and the child receives a coupon for a free personal pan pizza at Pizza Hut.

Tabytha had signed my name to the remaining days of December. I won't lie. I was really upset. I gave her 2 swats on the butt with the spanking spoon and told her after her chores were done she was to spend the remainder of the evening in her room. At the dinner table, eating our pizza we talked about what she had done wrong and why it was wrong. It was a good talk. She understood what she had done and why it was wrong and sincerely apologized for it.

I can only hope and pray she learned from this and won't do it again. Heaven knows I didn't learn my lesson and went on to sign my mom and dad's name to lots of stuff when I got into 8th grade.