Farewell, old friend...

Our old family friend, Ukrop's, is finally gone. It was a grand old store...there through every facet of life.

My grandmother shopped at the original Ukrop's in Richmond's southside and was a loyal customer from the beginning. My mother shopped at Ukrop's, too...and Ukrop's in its quiet, subtle way was there throughout the ups and downs of life. For birthdays, graduations, and celebrations, nothing beat a Ukrop's cake. When you needed some good local fruits or veg, Ukrop's had it. When you were too tired to cook, or just didn't want to cook, Ukrop's was there with meals to go. Even for funerals, Ukrop's was there with its white house rolls, ham, redskin potato salad, and other funeral fare.

I started shopping solo at Ukrop's when I was 16. Every week, my grandfather gave me his list (it was almost always the exact same thing--I still have it memorized...) and I'd get his groceries for the week. His favorite treat were the little coconut tarts. My favorite treat was the cute teenaged boy who bagged my groceries and brought them out to my car. When a cute boy wasn't there, it was one of several cute older guys who knew me when I was little...and recalled bringing my mother's and grandmother's groceries to their cars.

I took my last stroll through Ukrop's a little while ago. My kids didn't understand why I was in tears. I was saying goodbye to an old friend who had been with me through my life. The end of Ukrop's feels like everything I knew growing up--everything old Richmond--has finally gone. Thalheimer's, Miller and Rhoads, and now Ukrop's. There a few places left...Bill's Barbeque comes to mind...I think I'll take the kids out for some barbeque, grape-limeaids, and coconut cream pie.

Meanwhile, goodbye Ukrop's...thanks for being there.

Happy Easter!

What I really wanted to say is it's going to be hard to be pleasant when one child woke me up at 3:00, another came bounding in my bed at 5:00, and the baby again at 6:30. So, I'll stick with good old "Happy Easter!"

Meanwhile, while I was unable to get back to sleep after the 3:00 AM interruption my mind wondered all sorts of things...like why it's called Easter (googled it, pretty interesting) and why eating ham is a tradition (I figured it was a "Yay, we get to eat ham because we're Christians" kind of thing.

So, I've digressed. A lot. Hopefully, next Easter I'll be better rested and more suitably reverent and/or relevant.

Until then: Happy Easter!!

It Had to be You!

Quite by accident, Jer and I discovered that the song "It Had to be You"'s meaning changes dramatically depending on your singing style and inflection. I had been singing it traditionally to the kids outside while Jer was inside. I then came in and (being silly) changed to singing it more "monster style" not noticing that Jer was in the room. It wasn't until he said, "Gee, thanks..." That I realized how I'd been singing. We then spent the rest of the night having fun singing it begrudgingly and made up some fun new "It just HAD to be you" lyrics. We're thinking of going on tour...

Birthday Party MADNESS!!!!

Sounds scary, doesn't it...birthday party madness!! I never thought I'd witness such phenomena in person. Crazy, extravagant birthday parties are something rich people do. I was wrong. A few weeks ago, right before Evelyn's third birthday, I witnessed birthday party madness!!

It was our neighbor's son's third birthday: a warm, beautiful spring Saturday and a great day for a party. We hadn't been invited to anything, but I assumed he was having a small party with a few of his same-aged boy friends. Was I ever wrong. By early afternoon their front lawn had become quite a spectacle. Hired staff had erected a small circus tent and a clown was busy inflating balloons. Two large tables had been set out with a magnificent arrangement of foods and beverages with a giant birthday cake as the centerpiece. Next came the moon bounce (a giant inflated castle with room for 10-20 kids to bounce around in.) Finally, the main attraction arrived: a travelling petting zoo, complete with two ponies, 3 or 4 lambs, and an assortment of ducks, chicks, bunnies, and other standard petting zoo critters.

I was stunned. Yeah, it was pretty cool, but I could not imagine shelling out that kind of expense and putting on that kind of show for a three-year-old's birthday! It's not like he'll remember it--who remembers their third birthday? Shoot, I don't remember my thirtieth birthday let alone my third. But, I thought, to each their own...

That was until Lydia and Evelyn, who had been having quiet time and napping, caught sight of the spectacle. They just had to run over and see everything. And they certainly didn't understand why they couldn't (because they weren't invited.) They were sobbing over not being able to ride ponies or pet one of the animals (they could see everything that was going on--it was quite close.) I eventually had to pack all three kids in the van and go for a drive.

When we finally returned several hours later and I got the kids nestled in their beds, I had a time to ponder the whole thing. I really just could not fathom spending that kind of money on a kid's birthday party. It occurred to me that perhaps the party wasn't really even for the three-year-old. The kid loved it, I'm sure. But a week later, Evelyn thought her small party with some friends consisting of a hot dog lunch, cake, and a cheap pinata was big time, awesome fun. So was the fancy party really for him? Or was it some sort of competitive parenting thing? Were the parents trying to impress their friends? Impress other neighbors?

This, in turn, got me to thinking about all of the things we do as parents: do we do things for ourselves or for our children. I've been thinking about that since then. Is what I'm doing genuinely for my child or is it for me? It's put an interesting perspective on things for me. There are a few things I will make my kids do for me (piano lessons come to mind, but I think they'll thank me for that when they're older) but I want to genuinely try to do things for my children's benefit and not my own ego boost. I want my kids to have plenty of free and fun time...time to contemplate their belly buttons and the universe or whatever goes through their minds. Other than preschool and Sunday School, my kids just have free time right now. I had been feeling bad about not having them involved in various activities (dance, soccer, swim, language, etc.)--not because I thought my kids were lacking, but because I knew other kids were doing these things and I wondered if my kids should be, too.

But, no, right now I don't think they need their days filled with activity. I like that my kids have the freedom to (within reason) be spontaneous and do whatever they want. I love that following heavy rains this past week, my kids had a blast splashing in puddles, making mud pies, and playing with worms. And while I wasn't I thrilled with Evelyn bringing worms into the house to keep as pets (they're back outside now) or too fond of the super-muddy clothes, I realized that clothes can be cleaned and these things, these fun, spontaneous moments, are what they'll likely remember when they're older. Their days will be filled sooner than I know. For now, my kids can just have fun being themselves.

We Get It Already....

I suffer from a rare malady called perfect friends and family. While most don't think this would be a bad thing--and really it isn't, I'm just jealous--it is terrible when you are not perfect.

Here's what I mean...a perfect Mommy-friend of mine potty-trained her kid in 4 hours and he's not had a single accident. While I'm very happy for her, does she have to rub it in?!? I've been through the worst two YEARS of my life getting Lydia potty-trained, and she still needs frequent reminders and has lots of accidents. Another Mommy I know has a 3-year-old who recites poetry. Another has a 4-year-old Olympic athlete in the making. And on and on and on... I especially loathe the gloating cards of perfection people send out once a year, er, I mean Christmas mailers.

I get it...I'm glad for all of you, but I'm happy that my kids are gleefully average--it's perfect for me. My kids have tantrums. My kids have accidents. My kids misbehave at times (well, near constantly might be a better description.) But my kids are also wonderfully sweet, and even if they aren't junior overachievers, they are wonderful to me.

Homemade Antibiotics (no, not really!!)

My kids have been sick for the last week or so. It started with RSV (a nasty, nasty virus) then they got secondary infections (pneumonia and ear infections.) After shelling out big bucks for their respective antibiotics, they quickly began to get better. Soon I realized that in the week they had been sick I'd allowed the refrigerator to get a bit gross. It was time for me to dive in and clean it out.

What I discovered amazed me. Old takeout, old leftovers, fruits and veggies purchased but unused due to the illnesses. I loaded a trash bag full. I went back to the fridge to make sure I had gotten everything when something caught my eye. Some bell peppers that looked intact and ok at first glance, but under more careful scrutiny, I discovered that there was mold growing on the stems.

Then it hit me: antibiotics are pretty much just mold, I wondered if I could capitalise on the mold on the bell peppers. Quickly, my mind wandered to all of the untold ills I could cure from my refrigerator mold. And just as quickly, someone shrieked, someone cried and my fantasy ended. That and I knew that I couldn't really use the mold for good. But wouldn't it be cool if I could?!?

Divine Intervention

Sometimes it's good to know that God's "got my back."

While driving home from my mother's house today (in a foot or so of snow) our van got stuck going up a hill. Really stuck. Our rear tires were on the precipice of a ditch. Our front tires were stuck on ice-covered snow. Stuck in the ice and snow with two very tired little girls and a fussy baby.

We were beginning to feel a bit of panic when something made me look up. Just up the hill on the main road was a gorgeous sight: flashing orange lights. I hollered to Jeremy--who was valiantly trying to shove twigs under our tires--to run and see if it was a tow truck. Those of you who know Jeremy would have been amazed. The man practically floated over the snow and ice with such speed and grace I never imagined he possessed.

It was an older man driving a wrecker truck. He was lost. Jeremy explained our situation and for $25 and directions to where he needed to go, he extricated us from our perilous perch and pulled us up to the safety of the plowed main road.

Amazingly, during all of this fracas and the subsequent drive home, all three children nodded off. Their little faces so sweet and happy with the memories of snow, family, and Christmas fun.

By the time we got home, I couldn't help but marvel at our experience. A friend has since told me that tow trucks usually charge $100-$200 to do what he did. And I couldn't help but to thank God for helping us--being a woman, my mind had played through every possible dire outcome. How lucky we were that after mere minutes of being stuck, we were rescued.

In reflection, I can't help but ponder: were we made stuck to help the lost driver or was he made lost to help us? Or was it just a coincidence? It definitely felt like divine intervention to me.