We're in trouble now

Samuel watches his older brother from the front door. I love how this picture captures Samuel's plight. He's eager to join James, but isn't sure how to navigate that step. He's resigned and determined all at once, shown by his upright stillness and the way he firmly grasps the frame.

I always thought it was so funny that my aunt had to get an extra deadbolt -- keyed on the inside -- so her little boy wouldn't escape into the neighborhood. But after watching the longing in my toddler's eyes, I think I might be taking a page from her book.

Samuel wants to go outside all the time now. He grunts and growls beside the doors until I acquiesce and take him out. It won't be long before he tires of waiting for me -- probably as long as it will take him to grow tall enough to turn the doorknobs. Yikes!


Bulls eye! Samuel corrects his balance right on target.





Samuel's footprints

It's a good day

Were it not for me taking out the garbage today, which incidentally included some wilted bouquets from Ben's funeral (why do the flowers have to die, too?), I may not have noticed this salve in my yard. The tulips are coming! As a bonus, last season's alyssum, long buried under the snow, is green and forming new blossoms. I've never seen this plant, generally classified as an annual, perform this way.

How grateful I am that spring always follows winter.

Birthday party lessons

James blows out that fifth candle!

I've thrown many birthday parties in my day, but I'm far from a pro. More like an old dog who's willing to learn new tricks. The last party in our family, for 5-year-old James, taught me more than any other.

DO have a theme. James' was all about rockets and space.

DON'T sweat it when you've exhausted all your planned games 20 minutes into your 90-minute shindig. Your guests are too busy running around like crazy to even notice. (The same way they acted during the games, come to think of it . . . )

DO think on your feet. "Ring around the rosies," always a hit in the preschool set, can be adapted to any theme. "Ring around the sunshine, ring around the sunshine; planets, planets, we all fall down!"

DON'T attempt a group game that uses only one balloon. The kids will want one each. Make that one for each hand. And if you have blown up balloons and set them aside for use later, they will find them all.

DO draw from what you already have around the house. Improvise. Tear through James' bookcase for "Mooncake," a cute little gem by Frank Asch about a bear who builds a rocket because he wants to go to the moon and see what it tastes like. Ah-hah! This will be perfect!

DON'T let the season's worst snow storm deter you. So you made a rocket pinata to do outside on the patio (planned days ago when it was sunny and mild)? Use the new snow to your advantage. Read the book to the now surprisingly attentive party guests. Build up the idea of all of us dressing in our space suits and going to the moon (i.e. outside). The bear fell asleep during countdown and woke up mid-hibernation. What did he think was the moon? The snow! But we know better, don't we, kids?

DON'T underestimate how long it takes seven children to sort out 14 boots, one jacket, seven coats (someone dressed in layers) and 12 socks -- my child would be the sockless one.

DO rely on previous kitten-herding training.

DO whack that pinata with relish, and do so yourself, when it becomes obvious these lightweights aren't making a dent.

DON'T fret that the party fell short of what you planned. Your birthday boy had a great time, and that's all that matters.


Ben when was close in age to James in the photo. He had suffered a doozy of a split lip the day before, and needed stitches. But still, he was smiling. Another good lesson.

This last tip was especially important to me, for this birthday party was the most disorganized, crazy one I've ever thrown. It was also the day after my brother died. I was cutting an empty milk carton into a space helmet when the phone call came from my dad with the devastating news. (Ask me how many helmets I completed. None.)

As Jeff and I numbly gathered our family to drive to my folks', I thought, "What am I going to do about this party tomorrow?" Age 5 is the magical time in our family to have your first friend party. James was super excited. As sad, as deflated, as utterly despondent as I felt, I couldn't let him down. He didn't understand all this. What was I going to do?

Obviously, I went ahead with it. I know some of my friends thought I was crazy for doing so, yet I'm glad I swallowed up my own sadness long enough to play hostess. I learned far more than birthday party lessons that day.

DO let people help you. I have a wonderful friend who, after dropping off her sons to the party, slipped unnoticed into my kitchen and cleaned up the cake and frosting bowls abandoned the night before with all the other dishes. She cooked lunch and helped make up for all of my unmet preparations. She came back after the party, too -- silently, yet lovingly cleaning my house (a more thorough scouring than it's ever had!) while I answered the phone and greeted visitors. Thank you, Emily!

DO look beyond yourself in your grief. Doing a party for James was incredibly soothing for me, even if I did break down in delayed tears after it was done. I will remember this, to find a way to serve someone else whenever I feel so low.

DO remember the brown-eyed boy you mourn whenever you hug your own brown-eyed boy. Reflect on how Ben loved his own birthday parties.

DO grasp on to the happy moments in the midst of your sorrow.

DO marvel at the heart's capacity for both.

Goodbye, dear brother

Any ability to think clearly right now has been knocked out of me, kind of like losing wind in a sucker-punch to the gut. So I'll turn to some thoughts from the past. This is a poem I wrote at age 9 for the school Reflections contest. The theme that year was "What a Family Means to Me."

My Baby Brother's smile brightens up the room.

My Baby Brother's smile lifts the fog and gloom.

I think my Baby Brother's smile is very nice,

Especially when it opens up to eat his rice!

I like my Baby Brother's smile,

It's fun to play with for a while.

My Baby Brother likes it too.

Maybe someday he will show it to you!

It's simple and pedantic, but it embodies to me the joy my brother Ben brought into my life. He had such a huge heart. I will remember him as the crowing baby who turned heads at the JCPenney photo studio, so full of delight was his loud cooing. I will remember him as the boy who befriended the child other kids bullied at the school busstop. I will remember him as the tween who pleaded for us to take some of our groceries back to a "Will Work for Food" sign bearer at the store's entrance. I will remember him as the young man who wrote my husband and me a big check when we were unemployed.

Ben wasn't perfect. He had problems and sadness, and that saddens me too. Yet I know he's in a place where he can recapture happiness and continue to grow. I know families are forever, that I have the chance to see him again.

This is what a family means to me.

A book to devour

Emma took this shot of Elise and James adding paper cheese and black checker olives to Grandpa H.'s form of pizza crust.

For a rollicking good time with your children, I recommend William Steig's "Pete's a Pizza." Reading this one night led to an impromptu human pizza-making session in our house, just like the book's father does to cheer up his son Pete on a rainy day. We giggled and tickled. "Oh, no, Lisee, you don't fit into the oven," I said, bending her in half on a cushion. "I better make you into a calzone!"

The kids had so much fun that when their grandpa stopped by another night soon after, they wanted to read the book with him and act it out again.  Thanks for being such a good sport, Grandpa!

When puns go bad

Our quirky old house was a treasure trove of old brooms, mop handles and yardsticks with promotional messages. We seriously found about 20 of them when we moved in, and in the oddest places.

This advertising gem has been hanging out undisturbed for the three years we've lived here, probably much longer. I found it way, way back underneath the kitchen sink, in the unusable, unreachable space in the corner of the cabinets.

Now, I'm a self-professed word nerd. I love a good play on words. But this? Ick.

Service on the fly -- our 31st anniversary
B&B
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