Happy Easter from The Trifs!

Happy Birthday, Robert!

Well, It's the 28th again... March 28th this time. It's Robert's Birthday. He's FIVE today!

I can hardly believe my first little baby is growing into such an independent young boy. He amazes me every day. He asks questions all day long: "What does ____ mean?" (as I rack my brain for synonyms to words I know he already knows) He blows my mind with his math skills and comforts me with his toothless smiles.

Five years ago today it was cold and rainy. We didn't know if he was a boy or a girl. As we drove to the hospital, John Mayer's "Daughter" played on the radio. I was convinced he was a girl. But somehow in my heart knew he'd be a boy. A perfect and charming little boy, just as I have dreamed. And he was. He is.

We're friends now. Best friends. He's taught me more than I ever thought I'd learn - about myself and about being a mom.

Happy birthday to my BIG boy, Robert. Mommy loves you more than you know. Thank you for letting me love you! I'll always be proud of you.

Here is a link to his birth story.

Pennies from Heaven

I always heard the phrase "Pennies from Heaven" but I never really thought about what it meant. After my dad died, almost immediately, I started to find pennies.... everywhere.

The first pennies I found were in a group of 3. They lay in a pile on the family room floor of my childhood home. Mom was in the process of moving out and very little was left in that particular room. But 3 pennies in a corner. I picked them up and shoved them in my pocket.
A few days later I found a penny sticking out of an air return duct in my own family room. Just sticking out, as if someone had placed it there. I grabbed it and put it with the others. Still not even thinking where these pennies had come from. Then I started to think...
That very day, I emailed my sister-in-law to tell her about the pennies I had been finding. She immediately emailed me back and told me to take the pennies seriously. She and my brother had met with a spiritual adviser the night before. My dad had "come through" in their meeting and something was said about coins. I never got the exact story there, but I understood it to mean that when I randomly find coins, Dad is around.

At his funeral, my siblings and I eulogized my father telling a story of our days as kids at the beach. Dad used to take us out early in the morning to get "the best seashells" that were washed up on the beach with the night time tide (true story!) Little did we know, those early mornings at the beach, that dad was walking ahead of us, dropping beautiful "Made in China" shells for us to find.

I now keep my pennies from heaven in a "Made in China" seashell that was delivered to me at Christmas time in box that said "From Santa." I have quite a collection.

And now I will share a few places where some of these pennies have been found:

~On the front seat of the car while Christmas Shopping at Toys R Us. (I hate that place! But Dad loved to Christmas shop for us there)

~In Chicago's Midway Airport in the bathroom, under the paper towel dispenser. I was between flights on my way to San Diego. I traveled with a picture of me and Dad. When I saw this penny, I knew he was letting me know he was there.

~At the grocery store just last week. Robert was asking is Pape was "here" because the clock read 2:33. I told him No, and that Pape is around when all the numbers on the clock are the same. (another 'sign' we have from Dad) Ava cried and insisted Pape was there. I ignored her and as I went to pull out a shopping cart, I heard a penny hit the floor. I stopped dead in my tracks to find it. It was almost as if Dad had thrown it at me.

~Outside my front door. Ava opened the door to go out and there sat 2 pennies. I had been in and out of the house a few times that day and would have noticed them.

~At my doctor's office. Outside the room that I was waiting in, I heard an elderly couple chatting about some quarters that they saw outside on the pavement. The woman sent her husband outside to pick them up. I thought myself "Hey, those are probably MY quarters... i bet dad left them for me." Then, the nurse came to get me to take me to a different room. As I sat down, there was a penny sitting right on the tray in front of me.

We've found other coins... nickels, dimes, a single quarter. But none so prominent as pennies. I'm hoping he'll start to send some hundred dollar bills my way soon! In the mean time, I'm content with pennies.

Pennies from Heaven
Bing Crosby
If you want the things you love
You must have showers.
So when you hear it thunder
Don't run under a tree.
There'll be pennies from heaven for you and me

You say Tomato....

To you, this may just be an Avocado. We eat them often in our house. Alex, especially has a special place for this fruit in his tummy.

Alex calls them A-Doe-Ca-Does. I love hearing him say it over and over. Just another way he continues to make me laugh.

Happy Birthday, Ava and Alex!

THREE years ago today my life was forever changed. My 'babies' came into this world making me a proud Twin Momma! And now, they are THREE! No longer are they babies. I have molded them into little independent people with tiny, vibrant personalities and big big lives ahead of them. I'm never in a rush to see them grow, but I often have visions of my Ava running a race with me as a teen and calling me daily from her busy grown up life. I imagine Alex will come home from college on the weekends and raid the fridge and make me laugh... much like he already does... just in different ways. I see Ava as student council president and Alex as the class clown. I have so many visions for my babies. They are so different from each other yet they share the bond of twins - Best friends and birthday buddies.
These past 3 years have flown by so quickly. I'm so proud of who they are and who they have become. At three they are everything I hoped they would be and I am one proud mom!

Happy Birthday Ava Lou!
Happy Birthday Alex, too!

Mommy loves you very much!

Beauty at the Beach

I am a lucky woman. As part of my Christmas gift this year, my dear dear hubby bought me a plane ticket to San Diego so I could visit my best friend. The trip has come and gone. It was hard for me to leave my kiddies. I missed them so much and actually spent a few hours in the very early morning of my first day in tears - just missing them so much it hurt. I knew they were fine. I knew their daddy was taking perfect care of them. The days went on and the more wine I drank, the easier it was to deal. :)
My visit actually passed rather quickly. I had the most amazing time with my friends. We laughed and shed tears. And drank wine. Lots of wine. (which may have accounted for some of the tears)
During the trip, I saw so many beautiful things... beaches, sunsets, vineyards. I couldn't help but think my dad was with me. I found a penny on the bathroom floor at the airport in Chicago. Dad sends me coins. And maybe I'll blog about that next week.
On the way home, our luggage missed the transfer to our second plane in Chicago. Thirty-six hours later, it appeared on my doorstep with the remnants of a snow storm. I opened it almost immediately and there was a quarter was sitting right on top of my nicely folded (but dirty) pjs. Dad was there. He is here. Can you just see him in the picture?

Going Extra Curricular

Robert has been showing an interest in Karate for a few weeks. I finally signed him up at Action Karate and he had his first class yesterday. He will take classes on Wed evenings and Saturday mornings as an "Asah Shark" and when he is ready he'll move up to "Little Ninjas." His teacher said it should only be 3-4 weeks.
We are hoping this is a good decision since Robert has recently been showing anger/frustration over insignificant things. Martial Arts is supposed to be a great outlet for helping to tame those distractions and frustrations. Here's hoping. He really is loving it already!


I got some paper work in the mail from the school district yesterday... It's Kindergarten Registration time! Robert will be attending FULL DAY kindergarten in September! I am excited and sad at the same time. He'll have to be at the bus stop by 7:30am. (That is what I am most sad about! lol)

Soon Ava will be wanting to try gymnastics and Alex.... who knows. Right now he is most interested in airplanes and rockets. Mayhe he'll take up Karate too?
And there goes my "simple little life." From here on out it's Karate, gymnastics, soccer, ccd, dance class... and the list goes on. I guess I've earned my upgrade from Mommy to chauffeur.

Dad's Last Days

Below is my own account of the events leading up to my father's death. please do not feel obligated to read it. I put it here more for me than for any of you. My apologies if you find it inappropriate, but it's something that I just had to do.

I remember it being windy that day when dad died. I remember looking out his window in hospice, over his lifeless body and seeing the tree branches sway, wondering if that was his sign to us that he was okay. Little did I know he’d be sending us signs – real signs that he really was alright.
It was Columbus Day, October 12th. My youngest brother called me in the morning to tell me dad was in the hospital again. He’d been in and out of the hospital over the past year or so and the most recent time he was sent to the ER by his family doctor because according to a recent chest xray he had “spots” on his lungs. He had a lung biopsy (non invasive) which was a terrible experience for him. After inconclusive results, he was sent home with oxygen and told to come back at a later date. On the evening of October 11th, he drove himself back to the ER because he felt like something wasn’t right. Mom says she remembers him getting out of bed that night. She helped him get dressed and he went downstairs to watch the end of the Phillies game in his special chair (they were in the playoffs and the game was on the west coast – it went late into the night) He’d never come home again.
I spoke with Dad on Monday morning. We were on our way to the pumpkin patch. I had a hair appointment that afternoon. Dad sounded awful when I spoke to him. I told him I was going to call Julie (she was vacationing in Italy) and he insisted that it wasn’t necessary to call her. I got off the phone with him that morning and turned to Bobby who was driving the mini van. I said “He is going to die.” Bobby left for England that night for work.
Monday evening we found out that Dad would be having another lung biopsy on Tuesday afternoon. This time they’d have to go in through his rib cage and get some lung tissue. We worried he wouldn’t make it through surgery. I emailed Julie that afternoon. She didn’t reply. I emailed again later in the day… still no reply. I started to get worried that something happened to her. I didn’t sleep that night at all. She finally got back to me around 5am. We emailed a few times and she promised she’d call later in the day.
I remember talking to Rob on Tuesday morning and finding out that Dad was taken for surgery early. Germaine had spoken to the nurse who said Dad was apprehensive. The nurse had his wedding ring (which Dad fought to keep on his finger – he hadn’t had it off in 39 years) Mom didn’t know he was going into surgery early and I know that scared him too. He wanted her there.
I called in a sitter and by noon I was on my way to the hospital to be with mom. I got there just as dad was being brought out of recovery. Mom was there and so was Crip. The nurses (named Rob and Michelle) explained that dad would be in a pressurized room in the ICU and we needed to wear masks while we were there, for his protection. The masks were so uncomfortable and hard to breathe through. We made our way in to see Dad. He looked great! He was chatty and relieved. Mom and Dad had a “ceremony” as Mom placed his wedding ring back on his finger. Dad told me that while he was ‘under’ he dreamt he ran a marathon with me. Mom and I went to get some dinner at the cafeteria. When we came back, I commented to mom about his urine bag – that it didn’t look full. Mom assured me that they must have emptied it while we were gone. Dad was asking for food but he wasn’t allowed to have anything. I fed him some ice chips – just like he did for me after my c-section. I distinctly remember Dad asking the nurse “How did my Liver hold up in surgery?” The nurses response was positive but she went on to say something about his kidneys and how they were working okay, and she wanted to keep it that way. Mom and I left the hospital around 6pm. Mom wanted me to come back to their house, but I insisted I go straight home. Bobby had left for England the night before and his mom was staying with the kids until I returned. I went home to my kids.
On Wednesday morning, I called Dad’s nurse. She told me he did okay through the night. I went about my day, went to the gym, did some work and then mom called sometime that afternoon. She told me that Dad’s kidneys were failing. She assured me that it was okay. We can just put him on dialysis and kidney failure wouldn’t kill him. I googled acute kidney failure and learned that it is a common occurrence after surgery. I called Bobby’s mom that night and asked if she’d be willing to take a half day from work the next day. She said she could get to our house by noon so I could get to the hospital. I sent an email out asking for prayers and my brother in law Eddie suggested that I call Bobby home from England. I didn’t sleep again that night.
Thursday morning I texted my good friend Marci and asked if she could please bring me a coffee on her way home from taking her kids to daycare and she did. I told her I’d be going to the hospital later in the day and she offered to watch the kids if I needed to go earlier.
At 10:30, Mom called. Her voice was cracking. I kept saying “MOM, what’s wrong?” She said “When are you coming?” The doctor called. They think it’s cancer that spread from his liver to his lungs.” My mom never cries. She was crying hard. I told her I was on my way. I called Marci and threw some stuff in a bag. I had no idea how long I’d be gone or when I’d be home again. I called Bobby’s mom and she was on her way. Marci came immediately and would stay until Bobby’s mom arrived. I was sick to my stomach. I wanted to throw up. My dad was going to die.
I made some phone calls on my drive to the hospital. I called Bobby and asked him to come home. I called my dad’s sisters and my own brother who was also on his way from Pittsburgh. Sometime along the way Mom called. She had just gotten to the hospital and she said Dad was sitting is a chair eating breakfast. And then he threw it up – without warning. I felt a bit better as I was expecting to arrive to a lifeless body in bed.
I pulled into the hospital garage at 12:37. I remember finding that parking ticket in my car weeks later and noting the time. By the time I got to Dad’s room, the doctors were just starting to come in. The first doctor had a good outlook. I was busy writing down almost everything he said and not really comprehending what he was saying. It was definitely cancer in the lungs and they needed to find where it came from. He told us many types of cancer are treatable and we’d have more answers later. The next doctor that came in had a smug look on his face – almost like he was getting pleasure in telling us that Dad was going to die. He used big words and long sentences. He spoke to us like we were his colleagues. He asked Dad how he was doing and Dad said he felt like someone punched him in the stomach. He couldn’t believe he had cancer. Jim and Donna Weldon had arrived by this time. They stood in the hallway for a long time and waited. Dad was happy to see them. I followed the doctor out of the room and asked him how long he thought Dad had. He said he couldn’t give us an answer. The nurse explained that we would meet with a team of Palliative doctors in the morning. They would answer our questions. At that point we didn’t understand that Palliative care meant Dad was going to die and it was going to be sooner than later. We still talked about Dialysis and were grasping to that as an option. As the afternoon went on, dad continued to fail. His eyes and skin grew more jaundiced and his reflexes were shutting down. They brought him lunch on a tray and he was unable to lift the fork to his mouth. He kept dropping his water cup. He was failing before our eyes. I left the room to call Rob and Julie with an update. I tried to get them on a conference call, but I was only able to hear Rob once connected. Julie could hear us, but we couldn’t hear her. They were both devastated when I told them the news. They both told me I remained strong as I told them. I remember being strong that whole day and I remember being amazed at how strong I was!
Dad had some visitors that night. He was really sleepy. I think he may have been pretending to sleep so he didn’t have to deal with them. He was a gracious host, and tried to greet those that he saw, but even that was a struggle for him. He always hated having visitors in the hospital. I think this may have scared him too.
Rob arrived late in the evening and Crip was there too. We met with a female doctor (she was the one who called mom at home to tell her about the cancer) She was very thorough. She explained that dialysis was not an option as it was too risky for dad. We had questions and she answered them. Our questions were stupid and they didn’t matter at that point. She was patient. She told us that Dad’s cancer was called Hapaticellular carcinoma. He had a nodule on his liver that was never investigated. They could only assume that was where the cancer originated. We stayed at the hospital until about 9:30 and then I left with my brothers to get something to eat. Mom stayed at the hospital that night with dad. Rob and I stayed at mom and Dad’s and Crip went home. The house was a disaster. It looked like a flea market. The neighbors had been helping Mom get ready for her moving sale that weekend. It was cold and empty inside, not full of life like it usually was. I hated it. I slept in mom and dad’s bed that night – on dad’s side, only I hardly slept at all.

Mom called Friday morning and told us that dad was really scared and we should get there soon. Rob and I rushed to the hospital to be at Dad’s side. We assured him that Julie was on her way from Italy. Dad asked a few times what time it was, but as the day went on he spoke less and less and slept more and more. At priest named Fr Rossi came by to give Dad the “sacrament of the sick” which I thought was Last Rites. I cried the whole time. When he left, I asked him if that was Last Rites and he said no, but he would come back and administer that sacrament later if we’d like. The Palliative team that we were supposed to meet with at 10am said they’d wait until Julie arrived. It was a long day. The visitors trickled in to say good bye. I know Dad hated that. Mr. Andrews came by. Then the Watts, and Uncle Fran and Aunt Pat came in from TN. I stayed strong through all of those visitors. I had a few moments of breaking down, but tried to hard to stay strong. Daddy was getting the hiccups very frequently and continued to vomit blood, and black stuff and bile. He was uncomfortable. I hated that.
Most of the rest of Friday was a blur. Julie arrived around 5 and Bobby came in shortly after that. When Daddy saw Julie he opened his eyes and welcomed her with a big “Hey Baby.” It was great –he hadn’t spoken for hours before that. We met with the Palliative team, which I thought was a great team of doctors. I later found out that Julie didn’t like them. They were so patient and answered all of our questions. Their goal was to keep Dad as comfortable as possible. They explained the machines/monitors would be shut off and we could possibly be moved to hospice care in a different location. We hoped he’d be able to make the transfer. We hoped he’d make it through the night. Julie and Mom stayed with Dad that night. I slept at Crip’s with Rob and Germaine.
On Saturday morning we all assembled in the waiting room until dad was cleaned up and we were able to see him. The whole family was there together and Uncle Fran and Aunt Pat too. A doctor came out to tell us there was some sort of delay with the transfer to hospice. We protested a bit and within a half hour we had a plan in action. We spent a few hours by dad’s side with his iPod. We cried when we heard songs like “Beautiful Boy” and “Baby Mine.” And just as they arrived to take him to the ambulance to hospice “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” began to play. We knew Dad’s sister, Aunt Loretta was there. She died 3 years ago. That was her song. We cried more.
We caravanned to hospice and once Dad was settled Uncle Bud came to visit. Dad knew he was there. Uncle Bud was so so sad. He is dad’s favorite uncle – an incredible man. Later that night Bobby came by with the kids. I was so happy to see them! I hadn’t seen them since Thursday. He brought me a few more changes of clothes and some other stuff. I took the kids aside and explained that Pape was sick that they doctors couldn’t make him better so he was going to grow wings and be an angel in heaven with God. They seemed to understand. Robert had a few questions, but he ‘got it.’ And I am so glad because I really stressed about how I was going to explain everything. I prayed hard about it and God gave me the right words. I took the kids in one by one. Ava was scared. Alex and Robert were fine. Pape especially responded to having Alex in the room. He tried to nuzzle with him when he kissed him. I encouraged the kids to say “See you later” instead of “Good Bye” –more for Dad then for them. I already knew dad was scared. Uncle Jim and Aunt Mickey came by. They spent some time with Dad. Uncle Jim was so compassionate – a side of him I’d never seen. When they left, Uncle Jim said “Go Phillies” and Dad grumbled and reached out to reply.
We stayed up late looking at photos and listening to music. Rob left sometime after midnight. Mom and Julie took showers. We tried to sleep in those uncomfy chair/beds. We might have slept for 45 minutes. The nurses came in around 3am to clean dad up. He moaned a whole lot. He was very uncomfy. I remember being very cold…. Like uncontrollably shivering. Mom and Julie and I went to make some tea and chat in the kitchen. There was a single yellow rose on the table. I pointed it out and said “Aunt Loretta is here.” I forgot until that exact moment when I saw the rose that yellow roses were her favorite. I was still freezing when we went back to the room. We were pretty much awake now. Mom wanted to sleep more and Julie and I sat awake and talked to Daddy. And he was responding to us! We’d ask him questions and he’d reply with an “uh huh” or “uh uh.” At one point he sounded ‘conversational.’ I asked him who he was chatting with and he said “idunno.” I asked if someone was there and he said “uh huh.” Julie and I spent hours with him singing and playing his iPod. At one point “Michelle, my belle” played-twice. I knew Dad was telling me he was going to be okay. We had nothing unfinished between us. I thanked Dad for letting us bring him to hospice – a final opportunity for us all to be together – he loved when we were all together and over the years those opportunities were happening less. His body was getting cold. The nurse explained that the blood was pulling to the core as his organs shut down. I kept looking at his fingers. I read that his finger nails may turn blue towards the end. Dad’s didn’t. I thought that meant we had more time.
Around 7am, Dad moaned for Rob. We called Rob to come and he was able to have his last moments with dad. When Rob was finished he said dad was really moaning and we requested more morphine. Sometime after 8, I saw a very tall and very handsome doctor roaming the halls. I approached him and told him he was very tall. He commented on my sweatshirt (Mom’s Penn State Mom sweatshirt) and said I was much to young to be a Penn State Mom. He told me about the Penn State game the day before – State College had gotten a foot of snow and there were parking issues! I was so out of reality – I had no idea what was going on in the world.
The tall doctor came in and chatted with the family in dad’s room for a few minutes. He told us he could tell we were awesome – he really used the word awesome. He asked if Daddy had a strong heart. We told him yes and he told us he might hang on longer than we think. Dad’s breathing was shallower but we thought it was the morphine that made it that way.
A little bit later we all ended up in the kitchen. I remember getting my clothes out to take a shower, but deciding to go eat breakfast instead. It was just before 10am. Howard brought bagels so I made my way to the kitchen. We sat and chatted and ate for maybe 10 minutes or so – it was Rob and Julie, me and Crip and Howard. Mom was there for a minute or two to scraf down a bagel. I remember her mentioning that Daddy’s face was changing –looking relaxed. Uncle Fran and Aunt Pat were in the room with Daddy. Mom disappeared, but came back within a few minutes and made a funny motion for us with her fingers. She said “I think you should come.” I marched down the hall to his room where Aunt Pat was waving a tissue over daddy’s cold face, looking for breath. Uncle Fran was crying on the phone. Dad was gone. Everyone was crying…. Bawling. I looked at them and said “What’s wrong with me? I’m not crying.” Someone said “That’s okay” I think it was Howard. I looked up to the ceiling and said “You guys… he’s right up there.” I don’t think anyone heard me, but I knew he was right above us – just like in the movies. And he was probably saying “this is pretty cool!”
Brenda and my cousin Jimmy arrived very soon after daddy passed. Aunt Lorraine and Aunt Joan arrived with Richie and Uncle Rich. Uncle Charlie came too. We sat and talked. I can’t believe how comfortable I was with daddy’s lifeless body. I remember him smelling so good - right along his hairline. His face was so relaxed. He actually had a smile on his face! He looked so handsome. The undertaker didn’t arrive until after 2. We were in hospice for less than 24 hours. It felt like days.
The days that followed were stressful, to say the least. We were all devastated. We missed our dad. We still miss him.
His funeral was beautiful. What can I say, we throw good ‘parties.’ Dad looked nice laid out – very handsome. So many visitors came to see him. At once point, the undertaker told us the line was wrapped around the building outside! I stood in line next to mom and thanked the friends, and family that had come. We filled the room with photos of Dad with his friends and family and grandkids, which everyone really enjoyed. One man came through the line and told me that he had only met my father once, but he thought he was such a great guy that he needed to be there. Dad was like that… he really made an impression on people – even strangers.
We eulogized my father with the very eulogy that he wrote for his own father twenty-five years ago. It was so appropriate. Mom said that as she sat alone and watched her children read, there was a glow around us. She couldn’t bring herself to cry. She was so proud. His funeral mass and burial were beautiful. Dad must have been so proud. He would have especially loved the police escort to the cemetery – that was really cool.
And now Mom is moved into her new place, but still surrounded by memories of Dad. We all are. We know he is ‘around’. But we still miss him so much. I hear that as the days and weeks pass it will become easier. I am so scared I’ll forget him. I hate that I’ll never get to sit and talk with him again. I hate more than anything that my kids won’t grow up to know him. I miss him with every fiber of my being- every hour of every day. My dad was the most amazing man I’ll ever know. And I’ll cling to memories for the rest of my existence.

Catching up

Been awhile, eh? If you are a 'fan' or at least a regular reader of this blog, I don't blame you for un-fanning yourself due to my lack of updates. The honest truth is that this blog lost one of it's biggest fans already.

My dad passed away suddenly on October 18th. It was a shock to the family. He was diagnosed with cancer on a Thursday and died on a Sunday. Really. That fast. Dad was 62.

It was truly the worst experience of my life and the aftermath is pretty much unbearable. But we are muddling through each day missing my dad but cherishing the memories he gave us. And his death taught me a few things... it taught me that I am much stronger than I imagined I was. It taught me that I don't need to fear death and it reminded me that you never know when your earthly time will end and we need to trust God's plan.

Looking at the big picture, yes, dad's death was traumatic for all of us. But the way he went was peaceful, and couldn't have been better planned. See, he and my mom had just sold their house of 32 years and were ready to move into a 55+ community. They were supposed to move on the day we buried him. He would have hated the new condo. He loved their house and everything about it. But now my mom is moved and dad's belongings have been donated. Leaving that house was almost as traumatic as saying goodbye to my father... so many memories.
And in hindsight, we wonder if Dad knew he was as sick as he was.

I could fill pages with what a wonderful man my dad was. But this poem sums it up:

That man is a Success
Who has lived well
laughed often and loved much;
Who has gained the respect
of intelligent men
and the love of children;

Who has filled his niche
and accomplished his task;

Who leaves the world better
than he found it,
whether by an improved poppy
or a perfect poem
or a rescued soul;

Who never lacked appreciation
of earth's beauty
or failed to express it;

Who looked for the best in others
and gave the best he had.

My next post will be my "story" of the events leading up to my father's death. It really deserves it's own post, and if you care not to read it, that's okay too.

apology

picture credit: Aunt Stef
I owe you all an apology. I can't believe it's been 6 weeks since I last posted!

Life has been crazy and hectic. I am working now - part time from home, but it's more than I bargained for, and is taking up so much of my time - time I used to spend blogging!

August included some pool time and some much needed family time. We didn't take our second trip to the beach, after all.

My mom and dad sold their house and found a great 55+ community to move to. I have been spending weekends at their house helping pack and de-clutter.

My little brother got married a few weeks ago in a lovely outdoor ceremony. The week was busy as the kids enjoyed their cousins. Hannah even came to spend a few days at our house last week.

School has started and Robert is in his second year at Holy Family Preschool. He has almost all the same classmates from last year plus a few new friends. He is excited about school and eager to learn. We are (slowly) getting into a new routine.


The upcoming weeks/month will continue to be busy... Bobby is traveling most weeks and I am training for upcoming running events. (My first half Marathon this weekend!)
We'll try to check in often and post more.

Wordless Wednesday

My leg. decorated by Alex. Beats any tattoo... ever.

The Land of misfit Toys

We have a container that used to be for wipes. We put toys in this container. These toys may fall into the following categories:

~Toys that are broken/need repair
~Part of a game/toy that is already cleaned up/put away (and I am too lazy to put it back with it's family - ie puzzle pieces)
~Toys/parts that are too small
~Toys that I find on the floor before the vacuum cleaner/Vroom gets them

We call the Box "The Land of Misfit Toys."

The box lives in the kitchen cabinet and every now and then (not very often), I'll go through the box, toss some of the stuff in there or put it back where it belongs.

You should also know that we have a similar box for Christmas ornaments. Some day, Bobby will fix the ornaments in the "broken box." For each year, the box gets more full...

rear ends, butts and behinds

Last week, Alex approached me from behind with a toy stethoscope. He gently placed it on my rear end and said "I hear your butt." When I asked his what it sounds like he answered (matter of factly): "Cock a doodle Doo."

And while we're on the subject of Alex and my rear end...

A few weeks ago, after stepping out of the shower Alex placed his hands on my butt and announced "BIG BUTT." Thanks for the confidence boost, son. Of course, in relation to his own tiny hiney, I guess my butt would be big.

The best part of all is what he went on to say:

"you got any poops in dare."

My son.

Wordless Wednesday

Stef and Eddie's Wedding: "The Evidence"

While this blog is Michelle's domain this Post will be the central home for all Guest Photos from Stef and Eddie's Wedding. Below is a list of links as I've collected.

• Michelle and Bobby's Photos 1: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=138346&id=655821223&ref=nf
• Michelle and Bobby's Photos 2: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=138347&id=655821223&ref=nf
• Full Quality/Orderable Mich and Bobby: http://trifster.smugmug.com/
  
• Jessica Cemelli: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=130327&id=733469988&ref=nf
• Leslie Frisbie: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=23418&id=1552776321&ref=nf
• Christy Kurtz Hempstead: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=75518&id=1059893699&ref=nf
• UPDATED 21 July: http://viewmorepics.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewPicture&friendID=10644047&albumId=2922134
• UPDATED Sara Nolan: http://www.kodakgallery.com/ShareLanding.action?c=1y5y4a4y.6nzmgqxa&x=0&y=-fwhda7&localeid=en_US&cm_mmc=site_email-_-site_share-_-core-_-view_photos_button
• UPDATED Mrs. Felins: http://www2.snapfish.com/share/p=861211248192661575/l=3090113009/g=21547513/otsc=SYE/otsi=SALB
  

--Bobby

Alkix and Yay-yay

Alkix and YayYay are what Ava and Alex call each other. They CAN say each other's names correctly, but prefer to call each other by their nicknames.

They also are developing a language between themselves. I am slowly learning some of these new words. For example: "A-Neese" means "let's run back and forth."

Yesterday Bobby and I both witnessed an entire conversation between them:

Alkix: I poopied in the potty, YayYay.
YayYay: Good Job, Alkix.
Alkix: Thank you, YayYay.

And then they hugged. It was precious.

Wordless Wednesday

tearing it down...

Once upon a time there were newborn twins who came home to this.

And now their once beautiful nursery looks like this:

And this:

And this:


Are they trying to tell me it's time for new rooms? Or at least new decor? And if they are this great at ripping down border, why does it take them so long to open Christmas presents???

Wordless Wednesday

Little feet can be deceiving.

No standing - anytime.

That sign says "No Standing." Look closely and you'll see all the letters there... maybe not in exact order. The sign hangs on Robert's bedroom door (which now remains locked-like other doors in the house) because of one of newest big purchases:



We now have bunk beds in Robert's room. Since we set it up last month, Robert has 'graduated' to the top bunk (which, by the way, is a big pain in the butt to make) and Alex will soon move in and take over the bottom bunk.
Ava and Alex are not quite ready to make the transition, and will remain in their cribs until the timing is right (or they start to climb out... whichever comes first)

So, the sign that Robert made states that there shall be "NO STANDING on the top bunk."
or "boo-beds" as Ava calls them. And who do you think is the expert climber on this new "playground?" Click here to find out, if you don't already know!