Out of the Mouths of my Babes

Out of the Mouths of My Babes

1995 was a huge year for us.  I spent lots of $ and energy trying to get my daughter into the only school in Delaware that had all day kindergarten.   Yes, it was a Catholic school. Yes, we had to give to the building fund.  Yes, there was Catholic guilt involved.  But it ended up that God won.  After all the effort, time, and what little money we had to make sure she had all day kindergarten, the joke was on us.  December of that year Marty took a position outside of Atlanta and we moved to Peachtree City GA.  It was an ideal place to live with miles of golf cart paths and amazing schools.  Schools that took the time to have children write their own stories, print and bind them with your child's illustrations.  Charming, right?  Kate's story at 5. (and I am pretty sure I am not paraphrasing.)
My dad is the boss at work (picture a desk with a man behind it with nothing other than a pen), My mom is the boss at home. (picture nice lady in front of the house).  All good so far?  Third page.  And she has fake fingernails. The drawling is me with nails longer than my fingers.  

This is not how my nails looked , but how I thought they looked when Kate drew them for her teacher.  Hey!  It was 1996 and it was Atanta.....When in Rome.  

Forward November 2013.  My mother is cleaning out her parent's home that is being sold soon.  She stumbles upon an email that I wrote to my Granny when Maddy was in Kindergarden CCD.... (think Catholic Sunday School).  It was during Easter.  The question was if Jesus walked into your house right now what would everyone do.  Maddy's answer is as follows:

If Jesus walked into my house right now my sister would faint and fall on the floor.  My mother would be so excited she would not be able to talk (now you know for me that is excitement). My dad would think he was a stranger because he does not know what Jesus looks like.  My nana would be so excited that she would ask him if he was hungry or thirsty. And my Papa would say, "holy cow!  it's Jesus!"

I love that this memory was preserved by my Granny in her china cabinet and until my mother retrieved it I would not have remembered the story.  My Granny continues to talk to me.

I am 8 1/2 weeks outside of surgery.  I am feeling great.  Not 100% but loving not being in pain seems like a gift.

The Christmas season is on in Flanders.  The story of Sinter Klaus still amazes me.  Nothing like a man in hat that resembles a KKK hat walking with black faced Zwarte Peits. 

Please, if you have the time read this essay by one of my favorite essay writers, David Sedaris, called 6-8 Black Men 


http://chuma.cas.usf.edu/~pinsky/texts/Six%20to%20Eight%20Black%20Men.pdf


It explains it as only an American can see it.

Random:

I was whistling the Lodes song Royals.  Marty thought I was whistling Baba Black Sheep.  Either I am a bad whistler or Marty does not have a clue of new pop culture.

Headed back to the village for the holidays.  Our girls from 3 states will converge in Dewey.


We will miss our caroling in WS this year but the Ralston/Thomas family are committed to bringing it back next year!

Here are some of my favorite memories.

If you are invited to a tacky Christmas attire party, try to top us.  Greg as the crazy Uncle Eddie from Christmas vacation, Sharon's skirt, that she made sang Elvis songs, I am a present and Marty's sweater lit up on the back.

My family dressed in Circle in a Square. Thank you Andrew Dickenson for making holidays the best!

My yaya friend, Sharon 2012.  

Antwerp is getting ready.