Category Archives: A day in the life

Have We Forgotten Our Dead?

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My mom, my son M, and I visited three cemeteries the Monday prior to Memorial Day, to decorate family members graves with flowers.  Two of the three cemeteries was very unsatisfactory.

The first one, St. Joseph’s Catholic cemetery in Adrian, Michigan, had their drive blocked with orange construction cones.  It seemed they had decided that a week before Memorial Day was the optimal time to put fresh tar in the cracks of the paved drive.

Really?  How does that make sense?  To block people out of the cemetery at the one time of year when they are guaranteed to want to visit?!

As I didn’t want to get fresh tar on my car (the hail damage is enough to give it character), my mom and I made alternate arrangements to come back on Wednesday.  Surely it would be open again by then, right?

Next we visited Pleasant View cemetery in Blissfield, Michigan, where my dad is buried.  There was no sign of the flags that they always put on the graves of veterans.  The place had not even been mowed.  There were branches and stray bits of liter everywhere.

My mom is very particular about millions of things in this world.  Most of which I DO NOT and WILL NOT ever understand.  But on one thing I do agree with her, and that is that you should place your flowers at the cemetery after they have mowed.  Otherwise, your artificial flowers get dirt and grass thrown all up in them and look terrible.  But, having no other options, we placed our flowers at that time.  Next to my dad’s tombstone is a concrete marker in the shape of a lamb for his sister, who was born and died before he was ever born.  It probably isn’t made out of very quality materials to begin with, and it has been there approaching 100 years.  But we could plainly see where the riding lawn mower clips it when it goes between the stones.

You can see where I pushed away the dirt with my foot to expose the original resting position of the lamb.

You can see where I pushed away the dirt with my foot to expose the original resting position of the lamb.

Really?

These stones are the only thing left to mark these people’s lives (in this instance, of a deceased baby who never even got to live her life), and you have to carelessly push them over on their foundations?

When my mom and I returned to the St. Joseph’s Catholic cemetery on Wednesday, we witnessed the same thing.  The place had not yet been mowed.  The tombstones on the ends had been moved on their foundations, from previous passes with the mower.  I tried to push one back into position, unsuccessfully, and almost gave myself a hernia.

Oh, and FYI, there were STILL cones blocking the entrance to St. Joseph’s.  It appeared as if they had seal-coated the drive as well.  I drove around the cones.  (It had already rained the night before.  Any of the coating that was going to come off would have already been washed off.)

Aside from the shotty groundskeeping, I also noticed that WE, as surviving family members as a whole, are not decorating.  The entire section my dad is located in was almost devoid of flowers.  Everyone in his section generally died in 1980 or before.

Now, looking across the cemetery to the newer section, it did appear to be very decorated.  I guess all the people in the ground in the new section are the ones who used to decorate the tombstones in the old section.

How sad is that?

Even sadder is that they never told their children that someone had to keep decorating the grandmas’ and grandpas’ when they themselves had moved on.

Decorating gravestones is very similar to how I feel about sending greeting cards.  I know that it is an extra expense, but we lose a little of our humanity when we decide it is not worth our time and bother anymore.  A website exists called Find-A-Grave.  It is a great resource for genealogists.  But, you can also leave “virutal flowers” for people.  I have an issue with the “social media-ization” of the dead.

Oy.

Happy Memorial Day!

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MEMORIAL DAY 2014-flag

My favorite holiday.  Thank you from the bottom to the top of my heart for all those who serve our country, past, present, and future.  You protect our freedoms we enjoy daily.  You are my heroes.

My Dad, World War II veteran

My Dad, World War II veteran

This is my dad, Loren. He was in the Army medical corps in Germany in WWII and drove an ambulance. He was there when they liberated a concentration camp.  I never got to meet him, but I am still awfully proud.  My mom always says it was the biggest thing in his life.  He traveled halfway around the world.  And it doesn’t get more momentous than serving during a war.

What I Learned This Week – 5/18/14

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This week I learned that I am pretty desperate to get my son potty-trained.

I knew it would be a difficult process. It is a big part of why I didn’t want to have any kids. My mother is still shaming me to this day that it took me so long to be trained. (I think that should be on her, not me. But I digress…)

About 2 years ago, we bought my son a potty. We have casually tried to train him on and off since then. I will admit it. We are the reason he isn’t trained yet.

Here was the little potty when it was new.  I have no idea what ever happened to that blue lid.

Here was the little potty when it was new. I have no idea what ever happened to that blue lid.

In the last two weeks, we bared down, and have seen some success.

Then, well, we left for a few hours on Saturday morning. When we came back, a dog (Dave? Parker? Who knows.) had eaten the foam seat and the decorative vinyl that covers it off of the potty seat. The splash guard was also badly chewed. My husband instantly deemed the potty no longer usable. I wasn’t even sure that all the pieces we needed where still there. But upon closer inspection, they were.

The little potty after the dog(s) got ahold of it.

The little potty after the dog(s) got ahold of it.

[I think it must have been Parker who chewed up the potty. Dave might chew it up, but only Parker would eat the pieces. He has some unhappy poopy-time ahead.]

I cleaned it up and reassembled it. But by this time, my son was also convinced it was unusable. I admit, it was scary looking right after the dogs were finished with it. But I fixed it! Just use it, kid!

So, last night after my son went to bed, I decided to turn it into a Thomas & Friends potty. My kid is crazy-nuts for Thomas and all things train. Let’s hope this gets us on the right “track” again with potty-training. Lol.

The new & improved "Thomas" potty!

The new & improved “Thomas” potty!

James graphic

James graphic

Percy graphic

Percy graphic

I used acrylic craft paint, if anyone is interested. I hope that it will withstand gentle sponge cleaning. I was originally going to paint the seat, but decided that would receive too much wear. I think it came out pretty good, since I free-handed it with no plan. And the #1 stands for Thomas, and a reminder of what goes in the potty!

I also learned that I need a yellow paint pen, and a working red paint pen. That is why my detail colors do not match up exactly to for the Thomas characters. My son will notice, but hopefully he will still use the potty anyway!

My son said: Mommy! There are trains on my potty!
Me: That is so cool. Do you think you will use it today?
My son: Ummmmmmm….maybe a bit.
Me: A bit later?
My son: Ya…

What I Learned This Week – 5/4/14

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I am not a positive person by nature.  But I am trying.

Hard.  It is sooo very hard.  But this week I learned that I am improving.

My husband had been working overtime for months, which recently ended.  I reduced my days per week at work due to the fact that I thought all the babysitting was killing my elderly mother.  Plus, my husband bought a new (used) car last month.

The sudden reduction in income and increase in expenses has led us to what I used to refer to as “living poor” (i.e. lots of spaghetti and boxes of macaroni and cheese for dinner).  We can pay all our bills, but that leaves very little money left for groceries for a family of three, plus dog food for two large dogs.

But, instead, I found myself referring to it as “living within our means”.  Instead of using our credit card to buy extra food and gasoline, we will just have to live on the cash we have.  That isn’t necessarily super positive, but it definitely doesn’t have as negative a connotation as “living poor”.

The Secret by Rhonda Byrne

The Secret by Rhonda Byrne

The book “The Secret” talks about telling the universe what you want and not to tell it what you want to avoid.  For instance, I would thank the universe for my red Jeep Wrangler.  I do not actually have a Jeep Wrangler.  Yet.  But the universe does not know that.  And by putting my energy into being thankful for it, I may just manifest one.*

This week I also realized I need to eat less food.  Which works out well with being able to buy less food, I guess.  But that still doesn’t stop me from being hungry and wanting to eat.  My asbestos friend used a phrase that I thought was very apt.  She said she needed to “reign in” her eating.  She didn’t call it a diet or trying to lose weight.  It wasn’t implied that she would suffer or lack anything.  She was just going to have less.  Plus, it has a royal ring to it.  “Reign it in”.

So, my two new mottos to live by this week are “live within my means” and “reign it in”.

Hmmm.  While they do not seem negative, why am I still left with the nagging feeling of being hungry and poor?

Hershey's chocolate syrup

Hershey’s chocolate syrup

I miss my daily chocolate already.  Time to lick some Hershey’s syrup off a spoon.

*  At work yesterday I was thinking a lot about how I am more productive when I work by myself, and also how an extra $25 would come in handy.  One of my co-workers pulled a no-show, and I had to stay later to cover her. :-/  Be careful what you wish for.

The Whistle In The Night

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My son has a Melissa & Doug train puzzle that has caused trouble since the day I picked it up at the thrift store.

TRAIN PUZZLE-toy

If you have kids, you may know that Melissa & Doug makes sturdy wooden toys, that can also be a little pricey. If you have read my blog before, you may have gathered that my son REALLY likes trains.

So, when my asbestos friend and I were shopping in December last year, I really couldn’t pass up this puzzle. I mean, my kid can tell you the anatomy of a steam engine better than he can his own body. The problem was, he was WITH ME in the store. I tried to hide it from him. It is hard to hide a wooden puzzle. My asbestos friend, TRYING to be helpful, said, “Oh, let him play with it. He won’t even remember it tomorrow.”

Famous last words. She forgot my kid is six months older than hers.

EVERY DAY until Christmas came he asked me, “Where is my puzzle train?”

I finally settled on telling him, “Santa took it to the North Pole. He will bring it for Christmas.” Which, Santa did. My son will STILL tell me, “Santa Claus took my puzzle train and brought it back for me.”

He plays with it.

He loves it.

Did I forget to mention that it is a SOUND puzzle?

I put batteries in it Christmas morning after my son opened it. I was convinced for days that it didn’t work. I finally figured out that it only makes the whistle sound when you put in all the pieces at the same time.

We discovered that it worked off of light sensors in the puzzle. When they all sense darkness, it makes the noise.

And how did we discover this?

Because, invariably, my son takes out one piece of the puzzle and leaves it lying out. 99.9% of the time, it is the coal tender. And at night, when my son has been asleep for two hours and the crotchety dog that is prone to bark at night is locked up in the laundry room, and I am trying to be oh-so-quiet, I click off the living room light…

“Whoooooh-Whoooooh!”

Oh. Crap. That stupid train puzzle. Every night one piece is missing. Every night I never think to check. Every night I have to hold my breath as it whistles in the darkness, hoping that it will not disturb any man, child, or beast already in slumber.

And yet, with all this trouble, it is still a really cute puzzle…