It's the Merry-Hearted Boys Who Make the Best Men

Grams has told you about many of the women on my walk. Now I want you to get to know my son Nick. Watching him turn into the man he is today has been one of the biggest joys of my life.

As a youngster he was always the class clown and had a reputation for disrupting class and giving teachers a hard time. He worked hard to overcome that and has grown into a good and decent man mostly through his own sheer will and determination, and his father's prayers. He managed to overcome a learning disability and earned two college degrees at the same time. He holds a Bachelor of Arts in General Studies from Schreiner University and a Bachelor of Science in Mechanical Engineering and Industrial Technology from Texas A&M University. He earned both of them at the same time and played collegiate basketball and golf. He knew from the beginning that he wanted to be an engineer and he set his mind and focus on it and never stopped.

He has a natural athletic ability that was evident from a very early age. He learned to dribble a basketball about the same time he learned to walk.  And he's good at almost any sport he tries. He likes movies and video games.

He is kind and will never stand by silently and watch injustice. He stands up for what is right and decent. But he won't back down from a fight. When necessary he will stand up for himself, but never without fair warning. He once warned a guy in a bar who was trying to pick a fight with him "I have ADD and I'm off my meds. If I fight you I will not be able to stop."

The ease with which he understands advanced mathematics has always amazed me. (When my kids were in school, I was disappointed to discover that I don't know how to do fourth grade math.) He has an analytical mind and takes the time to mull things over and see them from different points of view. He's fair minded and a good friend. He has a large group of friends that he's been close to for years, some of them since nursery school.

He was always the sweetest child. He was the little boy who would pick flowers and bring them to me. When he was about seven years old he decided to run away from home. He only went as far as the corner of the driveway where he sat for hours tossing stones at the front door. He was always a cuddly baby and loved to sit on my lap and be rocked. When he was well into his teens, he would still occasionally drop his 6'2" body into my lap and wrap his arms around me. 

Like most parent and child relationships we had our problems. Against our advice and wishes, he withdrew from Schreiner at mid-term of his first year, walked away from his scholarship and basketball team, and transferred to Blynn Junior College in College Station to be near a girlfriend. When she broke up with him a couple of weeks later he was devastated and depressed. But after that semester he went back to Schreiner and completed his studies there. He even went back to the coach and got his position back on the basketball team. That made me very proud and gave me a glimpse of the man he would become.

The day Grandad had his heart surgery he was a rock. After everyone else had left that day, when our nerves were stretched taut after waiting for hours and hours, he walked through the restricted doors right to the coronary ICU nurses' station. He told the nurse straight out that we'd been there for more than 15 hours, we'd been told several hours earlier that we'd be able to see him soon, and then we had heard nothing more. He explained that we just needed them to tell us one way or the other. It would be fine if we weren't able to see him, but his Mom needed to go eat some dinner and get some rest. Like magic, the doors were opened and we were taken to see him.

He chose a wife who's just as smart as he is. Marie holds the same degree from TAMU that he does. And, did I mention that she's a beauty queen? She holds her own with him and doesn't take any crap from him ... and he likes that about her. He proposed to her at her graduation, in front of a packed house at Reed Arena. It was one of the sweetest and most romantic things I've ever seen. I was moved to tears and honored to be there.

I'm so proud of him and the life they are building together. They're not yet 30 years old and own a beautiful home in Houston. They both have good jobs and are building a solid life together. When I think of Nick, I think of the old Irish proverb -- "It's the merry-hearted boys who make the best men."

Grams Made A Pillowcase Dress

Grams has made a couple of these dresses for Our Little Princess. They are super simple and very lightweight and cool.

The white dress, pictured at right, is the first one I made. I used one of my mother's old pillowcases that has a white-on-white embroidery detail. I used a blue striped grosgrain ribbon for the ties. I was really pleased with how this dress came out. This pillowcase is old and soft. It made the dress look vintage and delicate. It was perfect for a romp in the Texas Hill Country bluebonnets last spring.

The blue-print dress is made from a border-print fabric, not from a pillowcase. The "flower" that is pinned to the shoulder of this dress is a barrette that I bought at a local craft store. I'm planning to make some of these and I'll share the directions as soon as I figure them out.

Today, I'm sharing the instructions for the pillowcase dress just in case you have a little princess of your own. You can actually buy a pattern for a pillowcase dress, but it's so easy you really don't need to spend that money.

You'll need a pillowcase*, scissors, thread, and one yard of ribbon cut into two equal pieces.

The first step is to measure your child from the shoulder to where you want the hem to reach and add one inch. 

Second, using the measurement you took, measure up from the hemmed edge of the pillowcase and cut straight across removing the closed edge of the pillowcase. This will be the top of your dress.

Now fold the pillowcase in half vertically so that the sides of the dress are touching. Make armholes by cutting a "J" shape on the top of the pillowcase. Cut through both sides at the same time so the armholes will be identical. For a small child, make the cuts 1 1/2 inches wide and 3 inches deep. For a larger child, make the cuts 2 inches wide and 4 inches deep. (This step really worried Grams when I made my first dress, but rest assured, it's not an exact science and the size of the cut doesn't make too much difference.)

Unfold and sew a rolled edge for each armhole creating a finished edge around the armhole.

Make a double fold in the top straight-edge of the dress, iron it in place, and sew to create a casing for the ribbon. Thread one piece of ribbon through each casing. Shirr fabric to create gathers and tie the ends of the ribbon together in a bow on each shoulder.

Put the dress on your own little princess and snap a picture. I promise they'll look cute and comfy and you'll feel a real sense of accomplishment at making such a beautiful dress.

*If you don't have a pillowcase, use a piece of fabric approximately the same size as a pillowcase.  Seam up one edge to form a tube. Then hem one end, leaving the other end open.

School's Out ... Let Freedom Ring!

Today is the last day of school for our local district, at least for the students who passed their core courses and their TAKS test.  It was also an early release day.  They got out of school at noon instead of 4 o'clock.  I remembered when I was leaving my neighborhood at about 12:30 and was behind a school bus that was dropping kids off near their homes.

The first thing I thought of was that old Alice Cooper song "School's Out for Summer."

No more pencils
No more books
No more teacher's dirty looks

Out for summer
Out till fall
We might not go back at all

School's out forever
School's out for summer.

My second thought was a line from very sweet poem by Mary Dow Brine "Somebody's Mother" that I've loved since I was a child.  One line of that poem particularly stuck with me:

Down the street with laughter and shout,
Glad in the freedom of school let out...

It paints such a vivid picture of how good it feels to be finished with another school year.  

Watching those kids jump joyfully from the school bus and run down the sidewalk reminded me of that feeling of absolute freedom that I used to feel on the last day of school every year. The thought of three months of hot, luxurious freedom stretched before me ... sleeping late in the mornings ... visiting my Granny ... playing outdoors until dusk ... taking afternoon naps ... chasing fireflies ... counting the stars ... reading books I wanted to read instead of something assigned ... no homework ... afternoons at the pool ... soaking up the sun ... Friday night fish fries ... picnics on the beach ... summer camp ... days and days of nothing particular to do.  I was a child in the 1960's when children were not over-scheduled.  Parents didn't rush from practice to games to lessons with their children.  We had time to be children and summers were magical.

Even though it's been 38 years since I last attended public schools, that feeling is still fresh in my mind.  Nothing has ever matched the feeling of absolute and total freedom that I used to feel on the last day of school every year.  I hope kids still feel that way "Glad in the freedom of school let out" and I hope teachers feel it at least a little bit.

Thanks for the Memories and Happy Mother's Day

My children have given me many gifts since I became a mom more than 30 years ago. I've gotten many of your standard Mother's Day gifts including flowers, candy, jewelry, clothes and perfume. But of all the things my children have given me, the best gift of all is a lifetime of memories.

I've heard it said that being a Mom is the toughest job you'll ever love.  Whoever said that knew what they were talking about.  I love being a Mom.  But there were times when it was tough, tougher than I ever expected it to be.  There are good times and bad times.  Thank God, the good times far outweigh the bad.

Over the past 30 years I've experienced millions of momentary miracles and equally as many moments that made me wonder what the hell I was thinking when I decided to have these kids.

Those miraculous moments were sometimes followed by real downers. The thrill of holding my babies in my arms for the first time was followed by six weeks of postpartum blues while I thought about how having a baby may have ruined my life. While I tried to follow everyone's advice to "sleep when the baby sleeps" moronic telemarketers called trying to sell life insurance for our new little bundle of joy.

The hours of walking the floors all night with a colicky baby were quickly erased by baby's first smile.  Our first child slept all night by the time she was six weeks old.  I remember waking up that first morning and being absolutely convinced that she must have died in her sleep.  On the other hand, our second child never slept all night until he was five years old.  That's right, I said NEVER.  Not one full night of sleep in five years.  I would be trying to put him back to bed while choking back tears of exhaustion.  Seriously, I used to cry while praying for a full night of sleep.  

There were tiny little miracles like watching her curl her tiny little toes in the sand for the first time; followed shortly thereafter by her looking around the beach, turning up her nose, saying "dirty" and refusing to budge another inch.  She climbed right back into the car and refused to walk on the beach or go in the water.  Years later as a teenager, we always knew where to find her in the summer.  She was at the beach!

I especially loved it when my kids laughed.  There is something so innocent about how babies giggle.  And I fondly remember them standing in their cribs in the mornings sweetly calling "Ma-ma" over and over again in their little bitty voices.  A few short years later, that sweet smiling "Ma-ma" became "MOTHER!" while they rolled their teenaged eyes.

My children are vastly different.  She's a brown-eyed red-head.  He's blond with blue eyes.  She's always been quiet and introspective.  His personality is larger than life.  She's artistic and bookish.  He's mathematically inclined and sports crazy.  She's all about being organic and natural.  He loves things that are shiny and new. 

They have both always been very healthy and both are athletic.  They both played basketball from third grade all the way through high school.  He went on to play collegiate ball.  Some of my fondest memories are of sitting in the bleachers at the gym or a track meet.  She had to be dragged into her first year of "little dribblers" and didn't learn to love it until she had coaches who saw her potential and worked to develop her skills.  It came naturally to him.  He could dribble and shoot by the time he was five.  Seriously, he provided halftime entertainment at her little dribbler games.  As soon as the whistle blew, he was on the floor shooting from half-court and practically doing a dribbling demonstration.  Sports kept them grounded and provided them with a like-minded group of friends.  In the off-season they both played on AAU select teams which kept all of us busy and broke.   Both of them still remain active, enjoying bicycling, running, walking, yoga and basketball.

I remember how our daughter tried to hide her disappointment when her Dad bought her a used Ford Festiva as her first car.  She knew she should be grateful, but it was hard when several of her friends were driving shiny brand new cars.  But she made the best of it, thanked us graciously and never complained about being expected to drive her brother to wherever he needed to go.

Both of my children are unfailingly kind.  During his kindergarten class play the students were dressed as jacks-in-the-box.  When the little girl next to him knocked her box over, fell and started crying, he knocked his own box over so she wouldn't be the only one.

Then there was watching our second child mope around the house because he missed his older sister who had been gone away to college for a mere three months.  This after at least five years of them not being able to stand the site of each other.  It was amazing to watch the two of them run into each other's arms the first time they saw each other again.

I was proud of both of them when they graduated from high school and again when they both were awarded their bachelor's degrees.  I was even prouder to see both of them marry good and decent mates and begin families of their own.

I was so excited when she called me to tell me of her engagement and it was such an honor to be present when our son proposed to his future wife in front of her Aggie graduating class.  And there is nothing at all that can compare to witnessing the birth of your grandchild.  Just the knowledge that she wanted me there, in that room with her, was so touching.

Once, as a teenager, when she was annoyed that I had to know where she was going and when she'd be home, my daughter asked me why I cared so much. I firmly believe that my answer that day was inspired.  I told her, "You are my life's work. You are what God has given me to do. That's why I care so much." Honestly, it just popped into my head. And I still believe it. These children are my life's work.

Happy Mother's Day to all Moms, especially to my daughter!  And to my kids ... thanks for the memories.

Happily Ever After

The upcoming Mothers Day weekend makes me think about the kind of home I grew up in.  In large part, the kind of mother I became is a direct result of where I came from.  With a few exceptions, I doubt that even people who have known me since I was a teenager know very much about my family life.  I have never been good at sustaining long-term friendships and I think that's a product of my raising. 

Generally speaking, my parents had issues.  They fought like cats and dogs, they were verbally abusive and sometimes they were physically violent, both with each other and sometimes towards us kids.  It was more than just spanking; sometimes it was fists and belts.  Two of my five siblings are what's now referred to as "special needs." I would say that definitely added to their stress and undoubtedly to their expenses. 

They were never fiscally responsible.  It was not unusual for our cars or our furniture to be repossessed.  My parents never owned a home of their own.  We either lived with relatives or we lived in rent houses.  We moved frequently, because they didn't pay the rent and would be evicted.  (I'll note right here that I went to seven or eight different elementary schools.  My sister and I once made a list of all the houses we lived in that we could remember, the total was more than fifteen.)

We once spent an entire summer with no electricity and no running water.  Our neighbors allowed us to run a water hose for drinking water and for flushing the toilets.  Most of the time we didn't have a telephone. When we did have a phone, bill collectors called frequently.  Disconnected utilities were the norm for us. 

My Dad was an automotive mechanic.  He worked hard all his life.  He was a civilian employee of the federal government, first for the Army, later for the Navy.  Several times he was transferred, laid off and/or fired.  He had "anger issues."  I once saw him pull a shotgun on an electric company employee who was sent to disconnect our service and I know that at least once he was suspended for threatening a fellow employee.  I know now that my Dad had a condition that I'm pretty sure would be diagnosed as "intermittent explosive disorder."  One of my sisters has the same disorder.  Now it can be controlled with medication. 

Mom was a stay-at-home mom.  From time-to-time she did such things as sell Tupperware or cosmetics.  She battled severe depression and bi-polar disorder her entire life.  When she was in one of her low periods she would not get out of bed for days and more than once she threatened to kill herself.  Those times were hard to endure and the impact they had on me was deep and long-lasting.

They did not expect nor encourage us to attend college.  Several of us had opportunities for higher education, but our parents told us they would not help us and, if we did go, we would be on our own.  We were expected to go to work and to contribute significant amounts of our income to the household, and we did.  (To his eternal credit, my brother Charlie went to night school and eventually earned a bachelor's degree.)  We were all told that once we left home we could never move back home.  

As adults, my siblings and I have discussed in great depth why my parents were the way they were and why they couldn't or didn't pay their bills.  They didn't drink, gamble or live extravagantly.  We just don't know what was going on with them and we never will.  As an adult, I've come to understand that they probably did the best they were capable of doing.  It's what I choose to believe and it helps me make peace with it all.  

Don't get me wrong.  I loved my parents and, considering all this, I had a pretty good childhood.  As a kid, I didn't know this behavior was abnormal or unusual.  I thought everyone lived this way, but mostly I didn't think about it at all. As a teenager, it was embarrassing and I came to hate the way we lived.  I always knew that, if I ever had kids, I would make sure they had a sane and stable home life. 

Before our children started school, we moved into the home where we still live.  Our utilities have never been disconnected and we pay our bills on time.  Both of my kids went to kindergarten and graduated high school with the same group of kids.  They both have friends that they've known their entire lives.  They were yelled at, disciplined, and even spanked, but never abused.  And we helped both of our kids go to and finish college.  From the time they started school, they were taught that their education would not be finished until they had earned at least a bachelor's degree.  College was mandatory, not optional.  They're both educated, employed, and happily married.

The mother I am is the result of the kind of home I grew up in.  The difficulties I endured did not define me, they made me work hard to be the best Mom I could be.  I am content and satisfied with the kind of mother I am.  We have always had a peaceful and loving home.  I have great relationships with both of my children and I love being both Mom and Grams. It was a long trip, but I made it to my happily ever after.

Mothers and Friends

I had lunch with two good friends and former co-workers today. I hadn't seen them in a couple of months and it was great to spend an hour visiting, swapping stories and laughing. All three of us are moms with children of varying ages. We have stayed in touch since leaving our common employer more than three years ago.

Our children range in age from 10 to 30 and among us we have 5 girls and 2 boys. But we always have the best time talking about them and sharing our motherhood stories.

Isabel has two extremely precocious daughters who are in elementary school. I love the stories she tells about them. They are both so smart. The things they say make me think that both of them are smarter than your average bear.

Today Isabel related that recently she was very angry and yelling at the younger of her girls. After a while, her daughter looked at her and said something like "Mommy, some of the people inside of you are ugly and I don't like seeing them."

Then the fun really started. We spent the next several minutes laughing uproariously while suggesting alternate names for Isabel's other personalities. My favorite was Carlotta and we laughingly suggested that next time she's angry she might remind her daughter that she doesn't want to see Carlotta.

Joanne went on to tell us about how her son recently went alligator hunting. A couple of weeks ago when she asked me if I had any recipes for alligator I thought she was joking. She reported that the alligator skin is being tanned so he can have boots made, although it may be a long time before he can afford the custom-made boots. And, since she now has an alligator head in her freezer, she has set aside a specific part of her freezer just for her son's wild game. That way not only does she not have to eat it, she doesn't even have to see it. Let's just say that her son is a major contributor to the gun ownership statistics in Texas.

We talked about how great it is when your kids finally get old enough and mature enough to stay by themselves for short periods of time. Isabel reported that her girls are now old enough that she occasionally leaves them for very short periods of time like to run to the pharmacy. I told her a cautionary tale of my two children dialing 9-1-1 because they thought our neighbor's house was being burglarized. It turned out that they were having their windows replaced and the people "breaking in" were the contractors. We all still laugh about that and my neighbor says they absolutely did the right thing.

I think the bottom line is that mothers don't have to keep a sense of humor ... but it helps. Mark Twain summed it up well.

"My mother had a great deal of trouble with me, but I think she enjoyed it." -Mark Twain

They're Supposed to Leave

Many years ago, when we were new parents we had to take a class before our babies could be baptized. In one of those classes, a very wise priest gave us some valuable advice. Here is the gist of it. Being parents is important and will be all consuming for a long time. Never forget that some day this child will grow up and leave you. That's what they're supposed to do. The relationship that must survive is the relationship with your spouse. Be sure you take care of that relationship. When this child grows up and leaves you, and it will grow up and leave you, make sure you still have a relationship with your spouse.

You may have guessed by now, Grams and her Darling Husband, aka Grandad, are empty nesters. Our two chicks flew the coop long ago.

We started our family about 4 years after we married. Our eldest was born in 1979 and our baby in 1981. In 1984, when our oldest was about to start school, we moved to Calallen because we knew they had great schools. Our little neighborhood is located at the very back of the subdivision and there is only one way in and out. Many of us have lived here for more than 20 years. It was a great place to raise our kids. They could never do anything that the neighbors didn't tell us about, usually before they got home. We all watched out for each other's kids. My sister says Calallen is like Stepford for people with kids. We're all wrapped up in our kids' school and extra-curricular activities. We love that aspect of living here.

For the next 20 years we wholeheartedly embraced raising kids. If our kids were involved in anything, we were there. We coached youth sports, we sat through hundreds (maybe even thousands) of practices, we taught religious education, we joined the PTA, we were officers in booster clubs, we worked concession stands, we sold candy and raffle tickets. We went to hundreds of basketball games, football games, baseball games, soccer games, track meets and kickball games. Whatever they did, we did. You get the picture. Our kids were our whole world.

Fast forward to 2000 when our baby left for college. When our kids left home, so did our social life. Everything we had been involved in was finished. Couple this with the fact that our best friends, who coincidentally were married to each other, got a divorce at about this time. We literally had lost our best friends. We sat down in the living room, looked at each other and shrugged our shoulders. What do we do now?

We've never had what I would consider a lot of friends. Most of our friends were people we knew through our kids. Basically, we have always done everything together as a couple. After a few weeks of feeling sorry for ourselves, we realized that something had to change and, if it was going to change, we had to change it.

It took a while, but we overcame. We re-instituted date night. Once a week we go out together. On Friday nights, instead of the football or basketball games, we go out to dinner with a group of neighbors. Thursday night has become pizza night. We either order delivery or go to a local pizza place with friends. Sunday after church we often go out for brunch with family. And we've become movie fanatics. Most weekends will find us, often with brother and sister-in-law, at our local movie theater taking in the newest release.

I won't kid you. My kids leaving home was one of the most difficult things I've endured. I cried all the way home from UTSA when we took our oldest child to school. I wept like a baby when I scraped the He-Man and Rainbo Brite stickers from the windows in their bedrooms. I miss going to high school basketball games. But I've grown to love it. That's right, I love my empty nest. It definitely has it's advantages. I've converted one of the bedrooms into my own sewing, craft and computer room. I've remodeled the kid's bathroom for myself, complete with a crystal chandelier. Having no kids at home has many advantages. Grandad will eat whatever I cook with no complaints ... and I hardly ever have to yell at him to turn the stereo down.