Marking one item off the summer bucket list

Well, it's now been two full weeks since the kids have been out of school. I haven't really felt like it has started. Things were busy as we planned my father-in-law's memorial visitation, visited with relatives from Germany and planned my parents' 50th wedding anniversary. My poor son who graduated 8th grade has yet to have a party...I can't seem to find a date that works out for us or any of the family and I've been so busy with other things that I've kind of dropped the ball. I have work piled up that I HAVE to get done. I've yet to even complete my summer bucket list, although I have a few things floating in my head that I'd like to do. I still have to sign up the kids for the summer camps. I got our pool passes purchased, but we've only been there once for less than 2 hours. Still, we've had a few fun days so far that have helped get us into the lazy summer mood.

One was yesterday as we celebrated Father's Day. One thing I want to do this summer is spend more time at the beach. I've finally gotten over my phobia of sand. :) Seriously, there's just no way to go to the beach and not end up with sand all over your vehicle and covering every inch of the kids. I've finally been able to let go of it and just enjoy a day at the beach and let the sand fall where it may. One thing I wanted to do this year was watch the sun set while we were at the beach and we accomplished that yesterday.

After a full day that included a drive up to Michigan, pancake breakfast at the firehouse, shopping in downtown Three Oaks, a walk through their community gardens, watching the 61st Annual Flag Day Parade, dinner at Nelson's Saloon, hanging out at the park, walking the downtown area and stopping for ice cream, I told my husband that parking is free after 8 p.m. at the New Buffalo Beach, so we decided we'd visit the beach before heading home. So, here's a look at our visit, from when we arrived to just before we left.

Goodbye to Grandpa

It's been 6 days now since my father-in-law left this world. I was at my son's little league game last weekend when my husband called me on my cell phone. "He's gone," he told me. 75 years on this earth and he was gone just like that.

It's not like we didn't see it coming. He had cancer. Things don't end well when the word cancer is involved. About 4 years ago during a routine check-up, a doctor discovered that he had an aortic aneurism, but before he could repair that a quadruple bypass was needed. That surgery came first. In the process of pre-surgery tests, a spot was noticed on his lung. Part of his lung was removed and it seemed that they'd gotten rid of the cancer. Finally, he had surgery to repair the aortic aneurism...it sure was a long route to get there...three major operations in about a year-and-a-half.

None of the operations seemed to slow him down. He was still doing everything he always did. Last summer, we were noticing a change in his voice. He also seemed to be getting winded more easily and more often. Our worst fears were confirmed last fall. The cancer was there again.

He started chemo and with that same invincible attitude he'd had all along, he bragged that he wasn't having side effects, even though we could see he was losing weight and energy. Within a week of his final chemo and radiation treatments, he was in the hospital with an infection. We weren't sure he'd ever leave the hospital, but he did. And even after he was home, we doubted he'd ever get out of the bed again, but he did. We didn't think he'd be able to leave the house again, but he did. Then over the past few weeks he declined. And we knew the end was inevitable. He had stage four cancer. We knew he wouldn't be recovering, but we'd seen him bounce back before and thought perhaps he'd do it again.

It's strange how each child reacts so differently to the same news. One doesn't hesitate to let the tears flow. Another is full of questions. Another shows no hint of emotion. Another retreats to another room. Another is in complete shock.

Just since he's been gone, there have been things this week I know he wouldn't have wanted to miss. He passed away the day before my oldest son's birthday. Three days later, his younger brother graduated from junior high and then today was his 14th birthday. We won't be gardening with him or watching parades or having barbecues. Those are the times we're going to really feel his absence because right now it's so fresh, it still feels like he's going to call on the phone or walk in the door.

Find your pink umbrella

Years into the mothering thing, something happens. You kind of lose yourself. You lose who you once were. That doesn't necessarily mean it's a bad thing. Sometimes you need to grow up and being responsible for little ones gives you direction. And sometimes you dive in so intensely that the world is wrapped up in feeding and clothing and taking care of little people that you forget to come up for air.

I'm mothering five sons. Sometimes, honestly I forget that I'm a girl. I really do. Cars, wrestling, bugs, dirt, soccer, muddy shoes, zombie invasions, skateboards, action movies, camouflage, tools, off-road excursions, aliens, dirty socks in balls under furniture, gigantic carnivorous appetites, baseball caps, Guitar Hero, pocket knives, toads found in the backyard. Not that girls can't be into any of the above, but they are the kinds of things that have become the norm.

And when you're a mom, it's pretty much a given that nothing is your own anymore, until the one day I discovered that some things can be. After three -- count them, THREE -- umbrellas had disappeared from my vehicle or the coat hook (all navy or dark colored), I scanned the rack at Walgreen's for a replacement. All they had were flowery and feminine ones. "Well, I can't get one of those," I thought to myself. "No one will be able to use it except for me."

That's when it happened. One of those "Ah-hah" moments that Oprah talks about. What's wrong with having something that is just for me? It had been a long time since such a thought entered my mind. Everything would still be ok in the world if I bought an umbrella that was hot pink and if no one else could use it except for me. I bought it. Sure enough, the boys were happy to get soaked if it meant not using a pink umbrella.

The pink umbrella was kind of a wake up for me. The guilt of getting something or doing something for myself lessened. Back when I was working full-time outside of the home, I had no trouble justifying going to get a massage or buying a new outfit to wear to the office. Now that I'm a working mom who happens to have my office in the corner of my dining room and who wears sweatpants more often than business suits, it just felt like I wasn't as deserving of such little extras as when I was the primary breadwinner. I got into the trap of thinking that I wasn't working as hard as other moms because I happen to have the luxury of working from home. And because I wasn't working full-time and bringing in a full-time income, I didn't feel I should splurge on things because there never seemed to be the spare cash to do so.

But when I put that pink umbrella in my hand, my attitude shifted. It's okay if I spend a morning and $25 on a pedicure. Why shouldn't it be? It's alright if I meet friends for lunch twice in one week. A lunch out isn't going to break the bank and I do enough cooking for others in the house - why shouldn't someone cook for me, too? If I see a cute top while running through Target to stock up on underwear and socks for the boys, why shouldn't I buy it?

My advice on Mother's Day is to find that pink umbrella in your life - something to remind you of who you are and that you need to be good to yourself. You're worth it!

Little life lessons

There probably isn't anything in this post you haven't heard before in one form or another. But sometimes even though you hear things, you don't really hear them. Sometimes you have to live them and experience them or see how someone else is affected before you really hear them and understand them. So, just a few little random lessons that I have picked up along the way.


You can't make other people do the right thing.
You can't make everyone happy, but you can make yourself miserable trying.
There's a consequence to everything you do, so choose wisely how you live your life.
Time waits for no one.
Make the most important people in your life the biggest priority.
You never know what a huge difference a few kind words can make.
The grass is greener where you water it.
Never hesitate to give a compliment.
Never turn down chocolate.
Sometimes the youngest people are the wisest.
Appreciate the little things - the meal you can enjoy, that you can take a walk, that you can bend and tie your shoes, that you can read, that you can hear, that you can see all the beautiful things in life.

It's not easy

If I had a nickel for every time someone told me how much easier boys are to raise than girls, I'd have a big ol' bag of change. I'm told often that I'm lucky to have all boys and how they are so easy compared to girls. Less worrying is what I'm told. Less stress they say. No drama. No hassles over clothes.

I beg to differ. Boys aren't easy or easier. They're different. There are different challenges. I have 5 boys. Some are easier than others in different areas. One gives me a hard time about doing homework. One never has to be told. One is really into clothes and very particular about what he wears. One could care less and hates to enter a store with me to pick something out. One gets an attitude quite often when he's told what to do. One never argues and simply says "Okay" to any request. One is really lazy about chores and always tries to get out of doing them. One simply knows what his are and does them without complaining. One irritates his brother every chance he gets. One is very tolerant of anything his brother throws at him. One likes things organized. One is a pack rat. They are simply different. Each one of them.

While there are challenges that parents of girls face, there are also challenges that parents of boys face. When I was a kid I remember that I always wanted to have girls. Boys simply seemed to trouble makers. It was rare for a girl to get in trouble at school. Most of the boys were reprimanded at some point and some on a regular basis. I didn't get boys.

I get them more now. They are very hands on. If they are bored, they're more likely to cause trouble. They're physical. Wrestling and doing things to show strength is normal. They're inquisitive. They don't display a lot of emotion. They just aren't wired the same as girls. But, boy there can be drama. As a mom of boys I have done lots and lots of lots of worrying. That's not limited to moms of daughters. And clothing can be a big source of tension -- one refuses to wear long sleeved shirts, one suddenly decides to ditch his whole wardrobe in favor of skinny jeans and then complains about his body image, one won't wear sweatpants, one won't wear shirts with collars, one has 15 pairs of pants in his drawer and claims that they are all either too small or too big, one will only wear boxer shorts, one only will wear ankle socks. Clothing is still a hassle with boys. Maybe not to the extent of most girls, but it's not a non-issue, that is for sure.

I may not have girls, but I was one once. Easy doesn't exist, whether you're talking about boys or girls.

Eight years

Wow. It's been eight years. Eight! Years! My youngest baby was born eight years ago and it doesn't seem possible. And at the same time it seems so long ago. Moms, you know what I mean, don't you?

I remember the big details - the date, the time you were born, the look of you as a baby. Other details have faded over the years - the specifics of labor, the name of the fill-in doctor who delivered you, the outfit you wore home from the hospital. I wish I could say I remember the way your tiny body felt in my arm, but it's been so long and all I know now is how heavy your head feels against my arm on the occasions that you scoot in that close, which have gotten fewer and farther between as the years go by.

I've watched you roll over and sit up and walk and talk and run and learn to read and ride a bike, knowing you were the last of my children and it was the last time I'd experience such things as mother. There are still things ahead.

I'm still waiting for you to loose your first tooth. I'm not all that eager. I remember worriedly asking the dentist when my oldest son was this age when his adult teeth would come in. He expressed concern and even mentioned pulling out baby teeth if they didn't come out on their own soon. This time I'm not rushing to the dentist. They'll come out when they're ready.

Happy birthday, you'll forever be my baby!

It's that time!

I'm a wee bit excited about something. Something that happens every year this time of year. Scan through the pictures below and see if you can figure out what it is!