Happy First Birthday, Izzy-B!!!!

To my "Izzy-B,"
At this very moment, your family is busy preparing the final touches to your 1st birthday party. Your life is so celebrated, dear one. You bring such incredible joy to those around you. I clearly remember the sheer excitement a year ago, when we were awaiting your arrival. Your cousins, Faith and Hope, just couldn't wait to see you as you were their very 1st "girl" cousin. And now, one year later, the excitement continues, as we sense the very presence of God in your sweet, sweet smile. How treasured you are!!

When your cousins were babies themselves, we lived in Oklahoma (a wonderful place to live...but one state you probably won't visit). It seemed like we were so far from home then.....I think it was 14 hours away. When we moved to Ohio years later, we thought we were so much closer to home. And we literally were....except now, it still seems too far, as I wish I could see you everyday. We talk about you...sing songs about you, all the time. (This may seem weird..but you will get used to it.) You are never far from our hearts.

Right now, you have no idea that we weren't able to come to your party. This pains my heart greatly. Today, gas prices are $3.98/gallon. That means nothing to you now. But I wonder what the prices will be when you are able to understand the words I write to you. The price of gas is forcing families to change some of their plans. But it doesn't have the ability to change our hearts for you. Our thoughts are filled with visions of celebrating your life...your cake...your presents...your laughter.

I know you won't miss us there today at your party. You still have yet to know who we are. But please know how much we dearly love you, our sweet Izzy-B.

Much love,
Auntie Aim

She really went crazy for a "Sharp Dressed Man"

So, my favorite for AI won last night, and I must say I was shocked. I thought for sure little Archie would win as Simon, Paula, and Randy gushed over him Tuesday night. And to think David Cook won with 12 million votes over his sweet, adorable challenger!! I must confess.... I tried only once to vote for DC Tuesday night when I was defeated by a busy signal. My friend, Brenda, saved the day, voting 11 million times to make up for my "wishy-washy" allegiance.

And to congratulate Brenda on her efforts, which have now effected the entire country, I would like to dedicate this post to her. This was her favorite part of the show...that is next to the Tom Cruise commemoration for Guitar Hero. Brenda....this one's for you, sister!!!

PS- Why is it that I have aged in 20 years, but these guys haven't. Totally unfair!! Maybe I should forget the Botox, and just go for some facial hair.

Always be my baby

It's moments like these that I treasure and hold close to my heart...reminding me that my baby is still my baby in many ways.

PS- She has been sleeping with "Bubby" since she was a newborn. She takes him on every overnighter she has been on. She insists that he will be with her even as a married woman. I can't imagine what he will look like then. He has no stuffing left in his ears, there is some left in the head, with most of it deposited around the belly....a description we can all identify with as we get older.

My boyfriend's back....

Sometimes the pressures of life, parenting, and overcommitment cause nostalgia to settle within me, and I yearn to simply be just Gregg's "girlfriend" again. In my mind, I recall a time when we were so focused on one another.... building our relationship together...dreaming about the future....there was very little that would get in the way of us spending time together. There was no one else but us. We were one dimensional, self-centered people. (This is not a positive thing...but somewhat expected during that season of life.) Our lives just hadn't become complex yet. Fast forward about 20 years and internally, I can sometimes feel the desire to revert back to that simplicity once and a while. This sentiment is most apparent when I am feeling our lives spinning out of control with busyness, or I am not feeling very successful in my parenting and want a break. Visions of date nights, weekend getaways, or simply just time spent alone can occupy my thoughts. It is an interesting undercurrent of need we feel as wives with children. I can tell when our calendar is overloaded with everything but time for just the two of us, and I crave some effortless time with my "boyfriend."

I am a complex being. I will admit that. In the past, I have shared with you how I dread my girls going away and becoming "empty nesters." That is very true. I have also shared with you how much I longed to make the transition from Gregg's girlfriend to wife, which is also very true. Both of these statements could somewhat nullify what I said above. They could also lead one to say, "MAKE UP YOUR MIND, WOMAN!!!" In my defense, I want you to know that I struggled with writing this today, because it is a little more revealing than I usually am. (Maybe you want to disagree. :) ) But I have a strong belief that someone out there can identify with what I am saying and there may be a resounding chorus of feminine "Amens" in the background. You just can't hear them.

So...male readers...now hear this! Bless (or shock...whichever word works best) your wife with an unexpected night out. Put the holey t-shirt from high school back in the drawer...find a shirt that is "hanger worthy," take a shower, put on some cologne, shave, and "WOW" her once again. I think it will be worth your effort, and it will be a wonderful atmosphere enhancer to the ambiance of your lives.

Female readers...can you identify with this at all? If so...don't sit and stew about it. Share it with your man. We all know good and well that our husbands aren't mind readers. We learned that in the 101 class. Honestly, he may also be feeling that way and long for some time with just you. And maybe....if you are really inspired, YOU could be the one to surprise HIM with a night out. Keep those home fires burning, my friends!!!!

Husband #1- The subject of this post is not a surprise to you. You know all this stuff already. In fact, I told you I was probably going to blog about it, and you had no problem with that. But, in your defense...and mine, of course....I didn't want my readers to think I was being hard on you. We both feel this way. We are just having trouble finding the time to sneak away. Gotta make it happen somehow. I love you, Sweetheart....holey t-shirt and all. :)

Hillbilly Hare

Do you remember this one? Has to be my favorite!

The Day the Music Died

It may be the longest song ever played on the radio.....clocking in at a unprecedented 8 minutes and 30 seconds (easily topping Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody or Rare Earth's Get Ready). I remember being a little girl, driving around with my mom and dad, listening to its endless words, without any idea what they meant. Now some 35 years later, I still don't. And I doubt I ever will, because I am not sure I could stomach the song again. While planting my Mother's Day garden, the Hestergirls asked if they could listen to the ipod/speakers outside. Of course, with careful admonition not to leave it there after they went inside (something they are characteristically known for doing), Gregg and I reluctantly agreed. Unbeknownst to us, they put American Pie on repeat, and played it at least 5 times (that's 50 minutes) before we just couldn't take it anymore and begged them to change it...PLAY ANY SONG BUT THAT ONE!!!!!!!!

Hopie claims that I can't listen to a song more than once or I get sick of it. In my defense, I have to disagree. I can listen to a lot of songs more than one time, but not 50 minutes worth of one song. So now it is truly "Bye, bye Miss American Pie" for now. I once heard that they used the song to torture prisoners at Gitmo. Now, I can see how it worked so effectively.

My First Garden

I have been a late bloomer (no pun intended) at most everything in my life. I don't really have a problem with that. It is something that I know about myself and have come to expect. Where most people learn something and do it.....fear of the unknown keeps me from being adventurous. But now I can finally put my green thumb to use because today, for my 12th Mother's Day, my husband blessed me with my first ever REAL garden. It is so cool!!!! I am thrilled!!

Yesterday, my Dad, Linda, and I went to Dill's Nursery and picked out some tomato, green pepper, and herb plants. I had absolutely no idea that Gregg was thinking "GARDEN" as my Mother's Day present. We just bought those for the sake of maybe putting a little something together.....maybe in some pots on the deck or something. I was shocked when I saw my husband pull in the driveway today with a borrowed trailer (thanks Hamptons!!) and all the necessary supplies for putting my first garden together. He made me feel very loved and very special. Many kisses and hugs to you, my sweet Husband #1!!!



My Knight laboriously putting the soil into the garden



My Fafie has always had a problem with root systems.



Maybe this one will have a green thumb.



"Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme"-Simon and Garfunkel (Scarborough Fair)



"Love Grows Love"-Caedmon's Call



Happy Mother's Day!!!!!!!!

License to dream

As you have probably detected through "blog vibes," this season of teenage parenting that we are hitting "head on" has been painful for me thus far, and we are only in the preliminaries. In all honesty, we really haven't left the starting line yet. Scary, isn't it? I really don't know how I am going to make it. It seems every day I am faced with a new challenge, a new thing to accept, a new thing to fret, a new thing I don't want to say hello to, and the loss of a comforting, familiar thing I don't want to say goodbye to. Just yesterday, while leaving the Kroger parking lot, Faith was asking me about Driver's Ed and how old you have to be to take it. My hands lightly held at "10 and 2" on the steering wheel, I answered the question without much clenching of the stomach. "In Ohio, I think you have to be 15," I told her. "Good," she boasted proudly, "only 2 more years until I get my "temps." (Side note: We called it a permit back in HS. That was Illinois circa 1985...no pronouncing the "s" on the end, please. I don't know why the name "permit"changes geographically.)

I handled all that pretty well....tried not to let it bother me...really no need to "cross that bridge" at this time. But today, on the way home from school, she tells me, "I can't stop thinking about what my first car will look like. I think I would like a red bug with black dots on it.....like a ladybug. And then, I think I would like personalized plates. That way, everyone will know it is me when they pass me on the road. How much do those cost anyway, Momma?" Hands gripping firmly at "10 and 2" this time, almost robotically, I tell her how much I think they cost. I cannot go there in my mind. I have been stretched by just the little sampling I have already had of "teenager-dom." I want to beg her to "lighten up...take it slow...have mercy on me." But I know she wouldn't understand. She is excited as she envisions her adventures of independence....while I am feeling just the opposite. We could not be going in more diverging directions even if we tried.

Many, many times I have thought back to my own teenage years since Gregg and I recently planted our toes squarely at the starting line of "teenager-dom." Besides constantly feeling like I owe my mom a huge apology, I recall with great clarity how much I looked forward to and talked about my future freedoms when I was a teen. I remember longing to get my driver's license, longing to go off to college, longing to marry Gregg. Never once did I consider how these longings might be effecting my mom. I only saw her as a "dream halter"....especially when she told me I could drive down the cald-e-sac and back the first day I got my license. (Sorry mom, that one still stings a little. :) )

One of the great frustrations of parenting has got to be how long it takes your child to truly understand why you did what you did, and how long it takes not to be recognized as "the bad guy." Father, help me. I have so long to wait. I'll be pushing 60 by the time "awareness" sets in. Oh...the agony!!!!

**Mom, although Hallmark could say it better, I hope you find something in this post that points to the fact that above all, I thank you for being you....and for always being you....even when I still had a 2 am curfew at 22 years old. :) Seriously though, I love you! HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY!!

Just a small "pet-peeve"

My Grandma has a pet peeve. She can't stand when people pronounce "Illinois" with the "s" on the end. Gregg hates it when I scrape my teeth across my fork when I am eating something. My sister can't stand when I eat potato chips. (Hmmm...."Note to self... always eat alone so as not to 'upset' any family members.") Call it curiosity. Call it just plain nosy-ness. But since I have started blogging, I can add just one small pet peeve to my itty-bitty list. Here it is:

After guidance and counsel from my own personal "Geek Squad" (thanks Toby!), I added a counter to the bottom of my blog about 1 month ago. Since doing that, I have just reached my 700th hit today and honestly I have very little idea who looks at my blog. Now some of that 700 is me adding something to the blog, or looking at something. So, I can't honestly say that it has reached 700 all by its little old self. But I can say with the utmost sincerity that I have not looked at my blog 700 different times in one month. I may be obsessive, but not that obsessive.

In the past, before my "counter-intelligence," I asked people to comment on one of my posts who they were. That didn't work out very well for some unknown reason. People are afraid to do that. Really not sure why. So now, with each increase on my counter, I am left with the question of "I wonder who read this?" My pet peeve is that I will never have the answer. My personal "Geek Squad" says that unless I want to work for the CIA, my question is going to stay unanswered. There is no way of knowing who is reading. I just have to remain in the dark.....a small price to pay for blogging, I suppose. Woe is me......*

**Man, one of my other pet peeves is people who feel sorry for themselves for the lamest reasons. Good thing I am not like that. That would so annoy people. :)

Our Little Mayberry makes the news