I miss my Dad every day. And every day, memories of him come to mind and I swing from smiles to tears. I find it frustrating that I am grieving and yet life keeps moving forward when I need to time. I need quiet. I need rest. I need time to just cry or laugh or pour over pictures or to just BE.
If I was still painting, this is what I would paint about. I am standing still while the world spins around me in a whirl of colors, so fast I can't make anything out. I want to reach out but cannot. I'm like a top that has stopped spinning and is laying on the floor, waiting to be wound and spun again or if I cannot be wound up, I would like the rest of the world to stop moving so fast.
I find myself staring into space, lost in thought. I make myself do the ordinary tasks even though it just feels so hard and unimportant. Yet, I know that for my children, they need to see that we are OK and we can continue to live, even with this hole inside.
Tonight, Peanut asked me what he would do if I died. Poor baby. I told him that I certainly did not plan to die any time soon but he would be taken care of by Grandma, Aunt Desert Bloom, The Mrs and Biker Boy. He will not be alone. He grew very quiet after that.
The truth of the matter is that I can give him no promise of tomorrow. Only the hope that we will go live with Jesus and those who have gone before and the ones left behind will take care of each other. It's all I can promise. I wish it was more.
Friday, September 25, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Grief
There is a debate that I have been reading about regarding the Stages of Grief and whether there really are stages or not. The term "stages" implies that a person should move somewhat sequentially from one stage to the other. My own experience would plant me on the opposite side of the debate. I think grieving is much more like a multi-layered pie and sometimes, you get a slice of everything inside, all at the same time.
I have had the opportunity to talk with many of my clients about the grieving process and have found that when I explain it this way, it seems to make more sense to them. I also explain that there is no time table on grief. You go through it and resolve it in however long it takes you and if someone tells you that you should be done grieving by now, they are insensitive idiots. One example I can think of for this type of insensitivity occurred with a co-worker whose father had committed suicide. At the time I met her, it had been almost 2 years. She was extremely frustrated and hurt when she requested to have the anniversary of his death off and it was denied because the supervisor told her it had been long enough and she should be "over it" by now.
In my situation, it's only been a little over a week since my father passed away and I know that I am beginning to truly grieve. The funeral is over. Family has returned home. I have returned to work and my kids are back in school. Life moves forward. However, I am finding that I am still struggling with feelings of shock and disbelief to reminiscence to missing him so much, I feel like it will always hurt.
I have trouble concentrating at work but it did get easier the second day. I did manage to get my housework done today and also to relax. Yet, when I tried to lay down and go to sleep, the sadness swept over me like a huge ocean wave. I cannot believe he is gone and I walk around feeling as if I am still dreaming the whole thing happened and that any minute, he is going to pull up in his red F150, handing out Starbursts to my kids or that I could dial my Mom's house and he will pick up the phone. The sadness comes when I realize it will never happen again.
I have had the opportunity to talk with many of my clients about the grieving process and have found that when I explain it this way, it seems to make more sense to them. I also explain that there is no time table on grief. You go through it and resolve it in however long it takes you and if someone tells you that you should be done grieving by now, they are insensitive idiots. One example I can think of for this type of insensitivity occurred with a co-worker whose father had committed suicide. At the time I met her, it had been almost 2 years. She was extremely frustrated and hurt when she requested to have the anniversary of his death off and it was denied because the supervisor told her it had been long enough and she should be "over it" by now.
In my situation, it's only been a little over a week since my father passed away and I know that I am beginning to truly grieve. The funeral is over. Family has returned home. I have returned to work and my kids are back in school. Life moves forward. However, I am finding that I am still struggling with feelings of shock and disbelief to reminiscence to missing him so much, I feel like it will always hurt.
I have trouble concentrating at work but it did get easier the second day. I did manage to get my housework done today and also to relax. Yet, when I tried to lay down and go to sleep, the sadness swept over me like a huge ocean wave. I cannot believe he is gone and I walk around feeling as if I am still dreaming the whole thing happened and that any minute, he is going to pull up in his red F150, handing out Starbursts to my kids or that I could dial my Mom's house and he will pick up the phone. The sadness comes when I realize it will never happen again.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
On Thursday September 10, 2009, my father passed away unexpectedly while making his USA Today delivery. In many ways, I think it was a blessing that it was quick and that he did not suffer a long, drawn out illness. However, it was all too soon. And I am still coming to terms with the reality that he is truly gone.
His funeral was held yesterday, September 15 and my mother asked each of my sisters and I to write a tribute and then asked me to read them in the service. I was honored that she would ask this of me. The following is what I wrote and then read:
My Dad preferred to live his life in a quiet, unassuming manner. While he would be so pleased to see all of you here today, he would absolutely be embarrassed by all the fuss. And he most certainly would not like me standing here, reading these words. Not because he would not like what my sisters and I have written but because to hear one of us read it out loud would have been too much for him and he did not like anyone to see him cry. That is just the kind of man he was.
His quietness in living did not mean my Dad lacked passion. He had many passions, dreams and pursuits. At various points in his life, he fell in love with certain instruments like the banjo, the mandolin and the hammered dulcimer and proceeded to build one or two of each. He never really learned to play but he loved making them. When he fell in love with Scottish bagpipes, I half expected him to figure out a way to build his own but it isn't really a wood instrument, so we were safe. However, we were subjected to a bagpipe CD on occasion. His passions always seemed to involve woodworking or animals. He built his own wood sailboat, "The Crappie Stalker" and a beautiful wood strip canoe. I will never forget when he decided he wanted to raise miniature pot-bellied pigs because a couple friends and I spent the better part of an afternoon chasing that pig through the woods behind the house. He never did get to pursue his dream of the Llama Therapy Ranch.
His number one passion however has always been his family. He had no greater source of pride than my Mom, the three of us girls and then his grandchildren. He would do anything he could to make sure his family was taken care of.
As I have thought about my life with my Dad over my childhood and my adulthood, the memories that continue to surface are of our many camping and fishing adventures. He loved the outdoors. His girls, for the most part, did not. "Mrs. Miller" for one, hates bugs. "Desert Bloom" and I prefer quiet indoor pursuits. He liked to take us fishing, a lot. He just never seemed to understand that I really do not like fish or fishing. However, when I was 20 or so, I went on one last camping and fishing trip with him. I really just wanted to ride in his canoe and read my book. But I indulged him by throwing my line in the water. We soon learned that the lake was full of bullheads and began to catch one after the other. My Dad showed me how to get them off the hook and throw them back. But this became very annoying to me so I quit baiting my hook and still threw my line out. This did not deter the fish from biting. Eventually, the fishing was interrupting my reading so much that I just quit putting my line in. But we joked that this may not stop the fish at all, they probably would jump out of the water and find my hook anyway.
My Dad will forever by my number one hero. This trait became even more prevalent when I became a driver. For several years, I developed a certain affinity for winding up in ditches all over the state. Always, he would come and pull me out. He never made me feel silly or stupid. His first question was "Are YOU alright?"
These car rescues continued when I went off to college in Duluth. My predicaments usually occurred late at night, in sub-zero temperatures and always a couple hours from home. Nevertheless, he would get in his car or his little red truck and drive to where ever I was and fix an alternator (which he always seemed to have an extra in the garage), or a radiator hose or a battery that burst into flame with a comment like, "Well, that doesn't look good." He would let me sit in the warmth of his car or the gas station while he suffered in the bitter cold. And then I would follow him home. He was not easy to follow, it took a lot of skill and a heavy foot to keep up with him!
My biggest rescue came when my marriage ended and I needed to leave TX. My Dad, without hesitation the moment he heard the news, began to make plans for driving down to get me. My Mom only slowed him down a bit when she reminded him that 3 adults and 3 small children in car seats would not fit in their Ford Focus. From that moment on, he was the man I could count on for anything. His joke was his business was now called "Blueduck Woodcraft and Daycare". He so often took care of my kids when I was going back to school or when one of them was sick and I had to work. He would also pick them up if I couldn't. He only said No if he could not find a way to change the plans of his day.
My most cherished memories will be of him and his relationship with my children. I know he loved being a Dad to us girls and he was proud of us. But when his first grandchild came along, the pride and the love practically oozed out of every pore. I will never forget the day when Princess, who was 4 or 5 months old, and I stopped by to see him at work. He met us at the door of his unit so that HE could be the one to carry her in and introduce his granddaughter to everyone. And with the grandson's that followed, he was there when they were born or shortly after and again, it was love at first sight. Each child was a precious gift to him. We lived with my parents for 4 years and I think that moving out was hard on all of us but it was perhaps hardest on Grandpa and Peanut who had been with each other every day of Peanut's life. When it had been a few days since we had seen or talked to Grandpa, Peanut would start to cry and we would call Grandpa. They would talk on the phone for a few minutes and I know that phone call made both of their days.
I miss you, Dad. More than words can say.
His funeral was held yesterday, September 15 and my mother asked each of my sisters and I to write a tribute and then asked me to read them in the service. I was honored that she would ask this of me. The following is what I wrote and then read:
My Dad preferred to live his life in a quiet, unassuming manner. While he would be so pleased to see all of you here today, he would absolutely be embarrassed by all the fuss. And he most certainly would not like me standing here, reading these words. Not because he would not like what my sisters and I have written but because to hear one of us read it out loud would have been too much for him and he did not like anyone to see him cry. That is just the kind of man he was.
His quietness in living did not mean my Dad lacked passion. He had many passions, dreams and pursuits. At various points in his life, he fell in love with certain instruments like the banjo, the mandolin and the hammered dulcimer and proceeded to build one or two of each. He never really learned to play but he loved making them. When he fell in love with Scottish bagpipes, I half expected him to figure out a way to build his own but it isn't really a wood instrument, so we were safe. However, we were subjected to a bagpipe CD on occasion. His passions always seemed to involve woodworking or animals. He built his own wood sailboat, "The Crappie Stalker" and a beautiful wood strip canoe. I will never forget when he decided he wanted to raise miniature pot-bellied pigs because a couple friends and I spent the better part of an afternoon chasing that pig through the woods behind the house. He never did get to pursue his dream of the Llama Therapy Ranch.
His number one passion however has always been his family. He had no greater source of pride than my Mom, the three of us girls and then his grandchildren. He would do anything he could to make sure his family was taken care of.
As I have thought about my life with my Dad over my childhood and my adulthood, the memories that continue to surface are of our many camping and fishing adventures. He loved the outdoors. His girls, for the most part, did not. "Mrs. Miller" for one, hates bugs. "Desert Bloom" and I prefer quiet indoor pursuits. He liked to take us fishing, a lot. He just never seemed to understand that I really do not like fish or fishing. However, when I was 20 or so, I went on one last camping and fishing trip with him. I really just wanted to ride in his canoe and read my book. But I indulged him by throwing my line in the water. We soon learned that the lake was full of bullheads and began to catch one after the other. My Dad showed me how to get them off the hook and throw them back. But this became very annoying to me so I quit baiting my hook and still threw my line out. This did not deter the fish from biting. Eventually, the fishing was interrupting my reading so much that I just quit putting my line in. But we joked that this may not stop the fish at all, they probably would jump out of the water and find my hook anyway.
My Dad will forever by my number one hero. This trait became even more prevalent when I became a driver. For several years, I developed a certain affinity for winding up in ditches all over the state. Always, he would come and pull me out. He never made me feel silly or stupid. His first question was "Are YOU alright?"
These car rescues continued when I went off to college in Duluth. My predicaments usually occurred late at night, in sub-zero temperatures and always a couple hours from home. Nevertheless, he would get in his car or his little red truck and drive to where ever I was and fix an alternator (which he always seemed to have an extra in the garage), or a radiator hose or a battery that burst into flame with a comment like, "Well, that doesn't look good." He would let me sit in the warmth of his car or the gas station while he suffered in the bitter cold. And then I would follow him home. He was not easy to follow, it took a lot of skill and a heavy foot to keep up with him!
My biggest rescue came when my marriage ended and I needed to leave TX. My Dad, without hesitation the moment he heard the news, began to make plans for driving down to get me. My Mom only slowed him down a bit when she reminded him that 3 adults and 3 small children in car seats would not fit in their Ford Focus. From that moment on, he was the man I could count on for anything. His joke was his business was now called "Blueduck Woodcraft and Daycare". He so often took care of my kids when I was going back to school or when one of them was sick and I had to work. He would also pick them up if I couldn't. He only said No if he could not find a way to change the plans of his day.
My most cherished memories will be of him and his relationship with my children. I know he loved being a Dad to us girls and he was proud of us. But when his first grandchild came along, the pride and the love practically oozed out of every pore. I will never forget the day when Princess, who was 4 or 5 months old, and I stopped by to see him at work. He met us at the door of his unit so that HE could be the one to carry her in and introduce his granddaughter to everyone. And with the grandson's that followed, he was there when they were born or shortly after and again, it was love at first sight. Each child was a precious gift to him. We lived with my parents for 4 years and I think that moving out was hard on all of us but it was perhaps hardest on Grandpa and Peanut who had been with each other every day of Peanut's life. When it had been a few days since we had seen or talked to Grandpa, Peanut would start to cry and we would call Grandpa. They would talk on the phone for a few minutes and I know that phone call made both of their days.
I miss you, Dad. More than words can say.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Time for school!!
I love it when September rolls around. The kids go back to school and routine returns. My living room stays clean longer than 5 minutes. I love the smell of newly sharpened pencils, notebook paper and new crayons.
I am not a big fan of Meet the Teacher night. It's not that I don't want to meet the teachers who will have my children for most of the day, 5 days a week. I just don't know what to say.
"Hello, Mr. Blah-Blah-Blah...I'm TulipMom. This is my 5th grader, BB. What would you like to know? He's smart, clever, funny...He has ADHD and and IEP. He's going to challenge you for the first few weeks and make you want to rip your hair out but stay strong, stick to a routine, be firm and we will both be fine. I'm rootin' for ya...I'm sure we will be in touch soon."
"Ahhh, Mrs. So-and-S0...this is my 3rd grader, PH. He's a sweet boy. He had a rough year last year but he is over it now. He loves sports and his friends and anything Lego or Star Wars. He really is a good boy."
"Nice to meet you, Mr. First-Grade-Teacher. This is Peanut. He's a fun one. He likes to chat. In fact, he is very seldom quiet. He is funny and cute and he's my baby. But don't treat him like that. I want him to get out of acting like it. Ummm, well, I'm not real sure how things are going to go. He has a hard time sitting still. He does not always do what he is told or like to listen. But I'm sure it is going to be a great year. Really. I'm almost positive."
And for my daughter...same speech...multiple times.
"I'm Princess's Mom. She's a sweet girl. She's very quiet and needs a lot of encouragement to speak up but when she does, she has good things to say. You will enjoy her."
The other thing I love about a new school year is feeling like I get a fresh start. It's like an annual Do-over. I take some time to think about what worked last year and what did not.
These are the changes I am making this year: (It's only been two days, but so far, so good)
*Family breakfast at 7am. This ensures that everyone has eaten and is awake. I also get the chance to see everyone before I head off to work.
*The kids are making their own lunches. I grumbled so often last year about making lunches every morning. The kids grumbled about what I put in there. So, now, they know exactly what they are getting and it seems to have more value since they did the work.
*Once homework starts coming in, I want to discuss with each of them how they like to do their homework best. I sort of know already that my oldest boys do better if they can lounge on the couch. Princess does better with peace and quiet.
*Family meal planning and a posted menu. This has rejuvenated meals for me and brought back some creativity where I had grown stagnant. I was also tired of the complaints. Now the kids can look at the week and know that even if they don't like tonight's dinner, they may like tomorrow. And we gave each night a fun name: Sloppy Saturday, Special Sunday, Macaroni Monday, Taco Tuesday, Whatever Wednesday, Take It Out Thursday and Fun Friday. I have told the kids that these titles are loosely defined so that we can experiment with different things that fit the categories. Taco Tuesday could be tacos, could be gyros or enchilada's or super nachos. Whatever Wednesdays is my freebie night. Most of the year, we go to church supper and then clubs but other times we have Wednesday off, I can put "whatever" I want in that spot.
I think I have other things I am changing too but this is all I can think of at the moment. So far, these changes are good and well received. I particularly like having breakfast in the morning with my kids and starting off the day together.
I love my Do-Over/Fresh Start Fall.
I am not a big fan of Meet the Teacher night. It's not that I don't want to meet the teachers who will have my children for most of the day, 5 days a week. I just don't know what to say.
"Hello, Mr. Blah-Blah-Blah...I'm TulipMom. This is my 5th grader, BB. What would you like to know? He's smart, clever, funny...He has ADHD and and IEP. He's going to challenge you for the first few weeks and make you want to rip your hair out but stay strong, stick to a routine, be firm and we will both be fine. I'm rootin' for ya...I'm sure we will be in touch soon."
"Ahhh, Mrs. So-and-S0...this is my 3rd grader, PH. He's a sweet boy. He had a rough year last year but he is over it now. He loves sports and his friends and anything Lego or Star Wars. He really is a good boy."
"Nice to meet you, Mr. First-Grade-Teacher. This is Peanut. He's a fun one. He likes to chat. In fact, he is very seldom quiet. He is funny and cute and he's my baby. But don't treat him like that. I want him to get out of acting like it. Ummm, well, I'm not real sure how things are going to go. He has a hard time sitting still. He does not always do what he is told or like to listen. But I'm sure it is going to be a great year. Really. I'm almost positive."
And for my daughter...same speech...multiple times.
"I'm Princess's Mom. She's a sweet girl. She's very quiet and needs a lot of encouragement to speak up but when she does, she has good things to say. You will enjoy her."
The other thing I love about a new school year is feeling like I get a fresh start. It's like an annual Do-over. I take some time to think about what worked last year and what did not.
These are the changes I am making this year: (It's only been two days, but so far, so good)
*Family breakfast at 7am. This ensures that everyone has eaten and is awake. I also get the chance to see everyone before I head off to work.
*The kids are making their own lunches. I grumbled so often last year about making lunches every morning. The kids grumbled about what I put in there. So, now, they know exactly what they are getting and it seems to have more value since they did the work.
*Once homework starts coming in, I want to discuss with each of them how they like to do their homework best. I sort of know already that my oldest boys do better if they can lounge on the couch. Princess does better with peace and quiet.
*Family meal planning and a posted menu. This has rejuvenated meals for me and brought back some creativity where I had grown stagnant. I was also tired of the complaints. Now the kids can look at the week and know that even if they don't like tonight's dinner, they may like tomorrow. And we gave each night a fun name: Sloppy Saturday, Special Sunday, Macaroni Monday, Taco Tuesday, Whatever Wednesday, Take It Out Thursday and Fun Friday. I have told the kids that these titles are loosely defined so that we can experiment with different things that fit the categories. Taco Tuesday could be tacos, could be gyros or enchilada's or super nachos. Whatever Wednesdays is my freebie night. Most of the year, we go to church supper and then clubs but other times we have Wednesday off, I can put "whatever" I want in that spot.
I think I have other things I am changing too but this is all I can think of at the moment. So far, these changes are good and well received. I particularly like having breakfast in the morning with my kids and starting off the day together.
I love my Do-Over/Fresh Start Fall.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
I see the sun
I think this dark cloud of depression is beginning to lift. It is probably a combination of the increased dose of Zoloft, adding Vitamin D, a lot of prayer and time. I am finding it is easier to deal with the daily stresses of life. I am less irritable, less tired. I even tried to lay down for a nap last night after work and found that I actually did not need it.
I also started therapy this week but it was an intake appointment so we have not begun to work. She is working out what my official diagnosis is. Her initial feeling was dysthymia or an adjustment disorder. I looked up both and I would go along more with dysthymia which is sort of a "low-grade" ongoing depression that for me has been under control. It's chronic but not severe. This seems to fit. But I will let her discuss that more with me. Other than that, I like her a lot. I found her very easy to talk to and she was very straightforward with her methods of therapy and it is exactly what I want.
My life continues to be stressful. Financial stress always abound. I learned this week that my rent check for July bounced. I have no idea how I am going to cover that. And due to an issue with my kids uploading games to a new cell phone, my cell phone bill was much higher than planned and that too did not clear the bank and was returned. So, now my phones are cut off and I don't know how I will be able to get that resolved either. What I do know is that God is in control. This weekend, there is nothing I can do but sit tight and turn my anxiety over to the Lord.
I had a dream in which a friend came to me and told me the very same thing. The friend said, "What we do know, Tulip, is that God is in control. And that is enough." When I woke up from that, I knew it was my divine message.
So, I will enjoy this last weekend before the craziness of the first week of school starts. My work week ahead will be equally crazy. My Nurse counterpart will be out most of the week due to the death of her father so I will be picking up some of her cases for the week. I am working 3 days this week but my Thursday will be a long day as I have a client to pick up at 7:45am and my last client to see at 6:30pm. "And hours to go before I sleep..."
So, this weekend my objective is to rest and relax.
I also started therapy this week but it was an intake appointment so we have not begun to work. She is working out what my official diagnosis is. Her initial feeling was dysthymia or an adjustment disorder. I looked up both and I would go along more with dysthymia which is sort of a "low-grade" ongoing depression that for me has been under control. It's chronic but not severe. This seems to fit. But I will let her discuss that more with me. Other than that, I like her a lot. I found her very easy to talk to and she was very straightforward with her methods of therapy and it is exactly what I want.
My life continues to be stressful. Financial stress always abound. I learned this week that my rent check for July bounced. I have no idea how I am going to cover that. And due to an issue with my kids uploading games to a new cell phone, my cell phone bill was much higher than planned and that too did not clear the bank and was returned. So, now my phones are cut off and I don't know how I will be able to get that resolved either. What I do know is that God is in control. This weekend, there is nothing I can do but sit tight and turn my anxiety over to the Lord.
I had a dream in which a friend came to me and told me the very same thing. The friend said, "What we do know, Tulip, is that God is in control. And that is enough." When I woke up from that, I knew it was my divine message.
So, I will enjoy this last weekend before the craziness of the first week of school starts. My work week ahead will be equally crazy. My Nurse counterpart will be out most of the week due to the death of her father so I will be picking up some of her cases for the week. I am working 3 days this week but my Thursday will be a long day as I have a client to pick up at 7:45am and my last client to see at 6:30pm. "And hours to go before I sleep..."
So, this weekend my objective is to rest and relax.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
After the Fair
I think going to the Fair every other year is going to be quite alright with me. By that time, the not-so-good memories will have faded into that sweet, golden haze of reminiscence. We will have forgotten the sore feet, the stress of trying to get there, the bickering about where to go and when and who does and does not want to do what. And the internal screaming in my head about how much money was spent at the fair will have subsided or at least slipped into a softer whisper.
The things I will remember about this year's trip to the MN State Fair:
1. Riding the bus and listening to Peanut tell strangers about what he was looking forward to at the fair.
2. Buying my kids their very first Pronto Pup and watching them enjoy it.
3. Having BB ask to take my picture with my head poking out of the face of the Mona Lisa outside the Fine Arts building and enjoying the fact that it was completely his idea.
4. Cheesecurds and the noises we make while eating them.
5. Peanut driving the mini tractor at the Little Hands farm, and taking it off the approved path and then causing a traffic jam with the other little tractors. The rest of us stood laughing and called it "Bumper Tractors".
6. Princess holding Peanut's hand while crossing the streets and the moment when she looked over at me and then grabbed mine. There won't be too many times when a 12 year old girl will want to hold her mother's hand.
7. BB's one quest: to find the WCCO booth. It's his favorite station. He loves Don Shelby and the "Good Question" segment. He got to watch the weather man tape his voice over and he claims he was on TV. Who am I to steal his 15 minutes of fame?
8. Riding the bumper cars with my kids.
9. The Miracle of Life Barn. I could spend all my time there. It's my favorite. BB found his favorite calf named Charley. The boy loves cows. PH found the piglets and even got to pet his favorite one. We got to see all the fuzzy ducklings and the little peeps.
10. The sigh of relief when I found Peanut after we used the bathroom and thought he was lost. And the pride I felt when I realized that his brother PH went to look and wait for him so he would not get scared.
11. BB hugging a 6 foot inflatable Kemps cow.
12. The laughter of my children as they rode the swings in the Kidway.
13. The look of sheer delight on BB's face as he rode the Giant Slide and then his remark afterwards, "That was so fun! I guess this place is not so bad after all." (He had been feeling a little let down by what he was seeing at the Fair)
14. Watching Peanut ride the slide, absolutely stone faced but then when he hit the bottom, he stood up, grinned broadly and said, "That was so awesome!" Two years ago, when he rode that slide, he was so scared, he declared he would never ride it again.
15. As we left the fair, Peanut hit "Meltdown Mode" and was crying. PH who had bought a Whoopee cushion, inflated it and came over and said, "Will this cheer you up?" and proceeded to squeeze it. I would have laughed but Peanut just shot him a nasty glare and kept crying.
16. The feeling of relief of sitting on the bus after all that walking.
17. Making silly faces at Peanut who was sitting several seats away.
18. Eating ice cream cones on the drive home.
The things I will remember about this year's trip to the MN State Fair:
1. Riding the bus and listening to Peanut tell strangers about what he was looking forward to at the fair.
2. Buying my kids their very first Pronto Pup and watching them enjoy it.
3. Having BB ask to take my picture with my head poking out of the face of the Mona Lisa outside the Fine Arts building and enjoying the fact that it was completely his idea.
4. Cheesecurds and the noises we make while eating them.
5. Peanut driving the mini tractor at the Little Hands farm, and taking it off the approved path and then causing a traffic jam with the other little tractors. The rest of us stood laughing and called it "Bumper Tractors".
6. Princess holding Peanut's hand while crossing the streets and the moment when she looked over at me and then grabbed mine. There won't be too many times when a 12 year old girl will want to hold her mother's hand.
7. BB's one quest: to find the WCCO booth. It's his favorite station. He loves Don Shelby and the "Good Question" segment. He got to watch the weather man tape his voice over and he claims he was on TV. Who am I to steal his 15 minutes of fame?
8. Riding the bumper cars with my kids.
9. The Miracle of Life Barn. I could spend all my time there. It's my favorite. BB found his favorite calf named Charley. The boy loves cows. PH found the piglets and even got to pet his favorite one. We got to see all the fuzzy ducklings and the little peeps.
10. The sigh of relief when I found Peanut after we used the bathroom and thought he was lost. And the pride I felt when I realized that his brother PH went to look and wait for him so he would not get scared.
11. BB hugging a 6 foot inflatable Kemps cow.
12. The laughter of my children as they rode the swings in the Kidway.
13. The look of sheer delight on BB's face as he rode the Giant Slide and then his remark afterwards, "That was so fun! I guess this place is not so bad after all." (He had been feeling a little let down by what he was seeing at the Fair)
14. Watching Peanut ride the slide, absolutely stone faced but then when he hit the bottom, he stood up, grinned broadly and said, "That was so awesome!" Two years ago, when he rode that slide, he was so scared, he declared he would never ride it again.
15. As we left the fair, Peanut hit "Meltdown Mode" and was crying. PH who had bought a Whoopee cushion, inflated it and came over and said, "Will this cheer you up?" and proceeded to squeeze it. I would have laughed but Peanut just shot him a nasty glare and kept crying.
16. The feeling of relief of sitting on the bus after all that walking.
17. Making silly faces at Peanut who was sitting several seats away.
18. Eating ice cream cones on the drive home.
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