Independence Day

Today is the 4th of July. Along with the BBQs and parties, I try to respect the history of this holiday. I cry easily and patriotic songs can make me weep. It's therapeutic and it reminds me of the many things I should be grateful for. In case I'm not feeling mushy enough, I like to remind myself:

There are millions of people in this country, let alone the world, who do not have enough to eat.
There are women who give birth and watch their babies die due to lack of food or medicine.
People live under bridges and overpasses. I have a roof over my head.
Diseases can rum rampant and many millions of people have no access to health care. I have my doctor on speed dial.

There's an old saying: "You come into this world alone and you leave it alone." I don't find it true. If you're lucky, as I am, you get some pretty great parents who you meet right out of the birth canal. I've watched my mother hold lots of parents' hands when it was their time to go. They may have made the journey alone but someone was right there at the beginning and the end.

I used to think of myself as independent. I'm not. Oh, I could make it on my own but I like the dependence on my friends and family. I'm even dependent on the maniac dog -- I'm guaranteed a laugh.

I'm trying to find the balance.

Escaping

Memorial Day weekend ... time to relax and kick back.

In our city, today's focus is the Indianapolis 500 race. Lots of buzz. Lots of people. More eyes than ever are focused on our city since we were awarded the host of the Superbowl in 2012. I don't live close to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway but I live just close enough for the traffic to mess with me.

Sunday is usually my catch-up day: return emails, file papers, pay bills, etc. If I get really wacky, I deep condition my hair and paint my toenails. Middle-age maintenance is exhausting.

A running joke with the husband is that every day is a holiday for me. He finds it very funny. I'm slightly less entertained.

But, today he is correct. The pool is open. I'm headed over to cocktail corner. The water is calling and I'm escaping. The piles of paper and the bills will have to wait until tomorrow.

I can't wait to dive in.

Significant Days

Today is the Belle's birthday. She would've been 85. I'm not sure if Hangdog has made the connection and I don't think we will bring it up.

Society has programmed us to celebrate birthdays, anniversaries, etc. Throw in Arbor Day and a bunch of other useless holidays. Not my birthday of course, I need the week.

It's almost Valentine's Day. Since I screwed up on Christmas, I have this Valentine's Day planned out. Gifts? Check. Cute card? Check. Maybe I can redeem myself.

'Tis The Season

Maybe I should say, "Twas the season." Today is the day after Christmas. I still feel like a (rein)deer caught in the headlights. I survived and now I get to reflect. It's the:

Season of miracles -- the baby and I made it to church last Sunday. My bonus gift was a surprise visit from my sister and sitting next to her during worship.

Season of grieving -- Our next door neighbor/friend/attorney lost his mother this week. (Why do we say lost?) She's not lost like the oldies get lost. We drove out of town and I saw her body in the casket. They are grieving and I am sad that this is something they've had to endure this holiday.

Season of short tempers -- sales people, cranky shoppers and Heaven forbid, in my own home!

Season of big money -- No matter how you try to scale back, you are guaranteed to spend more than you intended.

Season of tiredness -- There are not enough hours in the day. Any ache and pain is guaranteed to be multiplied.

Season of blessings -- The husband has spent father/daughter time and he is on Cloud Nine. Our Christmas Eve and Christmas day was blessed with both children and my parents here.

Season of forgetfulness -- I went to the grocery story three times in two days to prepare for entertaining.

Season of friends and visitors -- I can't wait to see our out-of-town guests.

Season of Rejoice -- For all my gripes, I still sing, pray and rejoice.

Season of Parties -- Our entertaining is mostly done. We will still enjoy the hospitality of others.

Season of Big, Fat Liars -- More than one person, including the husband, reneged on our agreement not to exchange gifts.

The oldies will be back in a few days. That's my official sign that the season is over.

The Grinch Who Stole Christmas

I love Dr. Seuss. There was a point in my life that I could recite Green Eggs and Ham from memory. For a while, it was one of the baby's favorite bedtime books, along with The Very Bad Bunny.(This is not Dr. Seuss but it's a good one.)

Thanksgiving is next week and the Christmas ads and catalogs are already plentiful. Unless you are hibernating in a cave, you know the holiday season is upon us. Here's what I love: the husband and I negotiated years ago that I can only begin the Christmas music in the house on the day after Thanksgiving. But, he can't control what I listen to in the car or in my office. I love putting up the tree with the exception of the year I had to move it three times. I love the parties, even when I'm exhausted. Most of all, I love the cheesy Christmas movies and specials:

National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation
It's a Wonderful Life
Miracle on 34th Street
A Christmas Story
A Charlie Brown Christmas
Frosty the Snowman
Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer
A Christmas Carol
Scrooged

My favorite is How The Grinch Stole Christmas. I've loved it since childhood but it has taken on new meaning because I live with the Grinch.

Last year, the Unabomber made a short appearance on Christmas Eve during our annual party. He did not get out of bed on Christmas Day, even though his granddaughter was here from Texas and the rest of the family was gathered around the tree. I got a serious attitude. The husband advised me to let it go and for that day, I took the advice but now the holidays are here so I have to remind myself again.

Before the oldies lived with us, I used that bedroom as Christmas Central. I piled presents and stocking stuffers. All of a sudden, it was the day before Christmas Eve and I was overwhelmed. My friend, Mickey, came over. We sat on the floor, popped movies and Christmas tapes in the VCR and wrapped all of the gifts. It was one of the most fun afternoons of my life.

I may live with the Grinch but he's not going to steal Christmas.

So Alive with Children

When the oldies went on their trip to Mississippi, they stopped in Nashville, TN to visit their youngest son and his family. A quick visit turned into a few days. They stopped again on their way back here.

I will be the first to admit that this is an impressive family. They have five (FIVE!) talented and incredibly well-mannered children. I enjoy being around them. I'm sort of in awe of the way they make it seem easy.

I'm flashing back to Thanksgiving of 1991. We invited the family for the long weekend. The oldies came from Mississippi. This brother and his wife arrived with two toddlers and a newborn. (The baby in our house was a toddler too.) The daughter was in that teenage mood that could go from laughter to crankiness in a nanosecond. There were other family members in and out but here's what truly sticks out in my mind from that visit:

A truly God-awful rum cake (provided by the mother-in-law) that the daughter and I took turns cutting, wadding up and finding unique ways to dispose of it. All the while, making faces behind each other's back when one of us was forced to take a bite.

My sister-in-law, nursing a newborn and keeping tabs on the toddlers. Every once in a while, things would start to get rowdy. She would say (in that sweet, gentle southern way,) "You boys play sweet now." And, THEY DID.

We've moved forward a few years now. The other day, I sat eating my lunch while the mother-in-law whipped up the Unabomber's breakfast. Out of the blue, he said, "It was nice in Nashville -- their house is so alive with children."

He meant no offense but it still stung a bit. Yes, the children associated with this house have grown and moved on to new stages in their lives. Isn't that what they're supposed to do?

I kept my mouth shut but I wanted to say, "I know they're an amazing family. Why don't you go live with them?"