Bud

I never knew my grandfather Van. He died before I was born. I've only heard stories about him from my grandma and my dad, some good, others not so good.

We hope that after we die, people say only wonderful things about us. But it's probably the un-wonderful things that people tell that make it more real that we were actually here. Like they say, nobody's perfect. And our imperfections that lead to misguided actions may not always be justified or warranted, but they make us who we are just as much as the good things we do in life.

I used to wish I didn't know the bad things about my grandfather. But he's been gone for a long time and I don't even have my own memories of him. So instead I try to piece together the picture of a man who was just doing his best the only way he knew how. And did at least two very good things in his lifetime, one of which was marrying my grandma, and the other, well, making my dad of course.

In the few pictures I've seen of him, he was very old and not smiling. He was apparently not an affectionate or demonstrative man with his family. But there's something about a smile on a man's face when he's not the type to freely give one up. It's a precious moment where I get a little glimpse of a grandfather I never knew, when he was a young man, full of life...with a friend who wore a bow tie.

His friends called him Bud.

Bud, on the right, with friends.

Birthday Party time was fun yesterday. Watched the kids play laser tag, ride go karts and run around like maniacs. Ash rode one of those kid version rides of the Tower of Terror. Loved it.

Met Winston for lunch at On the Border in Rancho Cucamonga which means I don't need to eat today. We went there for the queso and I'm still full.

Stupid things I keep thinking about: 

• I have $100 in spa/salon gift certificates and still need to use them. 
• I also need a haircut. I think.

Last day of school is June 9th and I'm going to sign the big boys up for some kind of Karate type thing. Maybe gymnastics for Lucas. I'm thankful we have a pool so we can go swimming a lot. I think it's going to be a good summer. Cue Will Smith, Summertime...

Garlic Edamame, I can't get you out of my mind.

Had a 4 hour lunch with my friend Luong yesterday. Had forgotten what it's like to have lunch with a friend without being interrupted by my 3 kids and however many kids the friend may have too. Although I've come to enjoy the chaotic meals and random kid conversations at a table full of children because for me that's what my life is all about. We had some yummy sushi, a tofu dish and seaweed salad which surprised me with it's yumminess, and garlic edamame! Besides the conversation, this was the highlight of the meal.

Today we're going to Holden's friend's birthday party where there will be laser tag, go karts, arcade games and Ash chasing (my least favorite party event). 

Then off to Victoria Gardens to have lunch with Uncle Winston.

So far a great start to a nice long weekend.

Living to write and writing to live

I started a blog 10 years ago which I wrote in pretty much every week, sometimes more. In the last two years since twitter and facebook took over, and also 3 kids, I've blogged less and less. I've pretty much abandoned my original blog and sparsely updated this one. When I read my old one, I'm nostalgic. This blog may never be what that one was to me but every day I'm breathing I feel like I need to be writing. Not every post has to be epic, tragic or inspiring. But I must write. (inspired by Attic24, shared by a dear blogger friend)

Today I'm going to get sushi and a mani/pedi with a friend I've known since 2000. We met through work in Maryland which seems sooooo long ago, before I was even a mom which is such a very large part of who I am now. Since then, I've moved to Germany, California, Arizona, Florida and back to California. She was in DC but is originally from Montreal and moved to San Francisco at one point. Now she's married with one kid and a bun in the oven and ended up moving within an hour drive from where we are right before we moved here. Pretty amazing how life brings people together, can separate them and then bring them back together again.

I knitted her a blanket this week for the new baby. 

Another Mother's Day

The last few years, Bill has started the pre-Mother's Day conversation with "Soooo I let Mother's Day sneak up on me..." which means no plans have been made yet for the big day.

In my early years of motherhood, I did have an expectation of my husband doing something extra special for me. I DID carry a child in my body for 9 months (ahem, 3 times!) after all and even though some women manage to perform this same seemingly impossible feat while drinking, smoking, doing drugs and eating poorly while still managing to have a healthy, beautiful child, I still feel that I've accomplished something amazing - 3 times!

After having Holden, I really did feel like Bill owed me something. I thought, "Geez, his part was easy!" ... if you know what I mean. But then I had the challenge and privilege of growing that child for 9 months, birthing him and then caring for him 24 hours a day with little sleep or guidance from the magical parent fairy who was supposed to tell me about all of the little things I never imagined would keep me up at night (the crying, breastfeeding, the explosive pooping, the worrying if he was breathing) once I was 100% responsible for this precious little thing without even a one second break.

That first Mother's Day, Bill bought me a nice purse and watch and I felt I deserved it. It made me feel special and loved and was a nice pat on the back for a job well done.

After the first one, I still expected a little something and Bill followed through. And then one year, I know I told Bill I didn't care if he got me anything, but like so many women do and no one understands, I still wanted him to get me something. And expected him to read my mind. Which, let's face it, he is NOT good at.

This year, I said the words out loud. "Honey you really don't have to get me anything this year."

And you know what? I mean it. Bill may not have given birth to our 3 children, but he's done enough in their lifetime to prove that the role he played was just as important and deserving of appreciation. He really is an amazing father. He doesn't owe me anything. I just want to enjoy our kids with him every day for as long as possible.

This Mother's Day, I don't NEED a present. My kids are old enough now that they know what the day means, and if they want to have Dad buy me something or make something, it will mean a lot to me, of course. It's nice to be appreciated. It's sweet to receive gifts or flowers from the father of your children. But it means even more if they tell you throughout the year that they appreciate you.


When my husband tells me he feels lucky to have me as his wife and that I'm a good Mom on a regular Sunday in November or a Wednesday in February, I really feel like that is more than enough.

We're square.

And P.S. No, we still didn't buy a new bed! Ugh....

Christmas memories

Christmas always brings back so many memories.

I remember the days when Bill and I were without kids and used to go CRAZY at Christmas buying each other anything we wanted. We had all of this money (really not much, but felt like a lot when you're 22) and no one else to buy for but ourselves and a few relatives. We couldn't wait to open the presents on Christmas Day so we usually ended up giving one gift a day starting the first two weeks before Christmas.

As I was putting out the presents under the tree this year, I was telling the boys a story about when I was around 5 and wanted to open one particular present so badly I cried and cried and cried until my Mom let me open it. Looking back now I can distinctly remember how sweet and sad my Mom was for me that I was so unhappy about not getting to open it that she just couldn't stand it and had to let me open it. She reasoned with me that if I opened it early I wouldn't have a big present to open on Christmas Day but I didn't care. And this was just like Lucas. He was so eager to open all of his presents he didn't care about waiting. By the way, I still remember that present. It was a tea set. And worth opening early.

Each year we put our ornaments on the tree and tell our kids where each one came from. And as we add more, they recall year after year where we got those ornaments and what they mean to them. There is just something so magical about this day. There are sad memories too that I try not to dwell on. Because even in all of the sadness there were sweet moments that helped us get through what can sometimes be a difficult time of year for a lot of people. 3 years later, it's a hard holiday to manage when I miss my Mom so much. Yesterday I was thinking I needed to call her to wish her a Merry Christmas. Instead I just dreamed about her all night.

Merry Christmas to my Mom, who always made Christmas the merriest time of year no matter what was going on. And I'll follow in her footsteps.

We need a new bed.

Bill and I have had the same bed for the last 11 years.

When we first got married and were living in Maryland, we discovered an IKEA within an hour's drive from our first home. Like every poor newlywed couple, we furnished our home with the wonderfully inexpensive, infuriatingly constructed Eurocrap. It only took us 10 days to assemble our new dining room table, sofa and bed - the only 3 items in our entire house, besides splurging on a $500 TV which at the time seemed really expensive.

At 22 years old, when all of our extra money seemed better spent on clothing, movies, eating out at restaurants and adventuring, we convinced ourselves the full-size bed would do just fine (because it was the cheapest). And the model sans headboard and boxspring was perfectly comfortable (because it was the cheapest). And the natural wood "finish" was actually prettier than the darker wood (because it was the cheapest).

Over the next 11 years, we moved 5 times from the east coast to Germany, then west coast, desert, back to east coast and now on the west coast again. Our little full-size bed has made the trip with us and managed to hold itself together even missing support slats and carrying more weight each year (ahem... 3 pregnancies here, people... I can't speak for Bill on this one...). Needless to say, it has seen its fair share of wear and tear and surprisingly has survived pretty well for a cheap little bed.

Once we moved to CA this last time, we discussed buying a new bed, and as of right now, our cheap asses still haven't bought one. Yet again, we've convinced ourselves we can use the money for better things, like 3 growing boys, vacations and trips, 3 hungry boys, birthdays and holidays, and did I mention 3 growing and hungry boys?

Last night I spent most of the night with a mustached-man that felt like he was running a one thousand degree temperature who I think may possibly have the HEAVIEST leg of any person alive all up in my business while I tried to sleep. Every time I tried to move, that leg of lead was holding me down and scalding my skin with its insane warmth. So when I woke up this morning, I decided all I want for Christmas this year is a bed.

A real grown up bed. A Queen size bed. That isn't missing pieces. That has two different areas on the bed for two grown people to sleep without touching, if they don't want to.

Sure I'll miss our little mini-bed that has been with us through so much life. It may be a little bittersweet letting go of those memories... and all that money. But better the bed than murdering my husband in his sleep.