Saturday, April 23, 2011

Family Photos

I just stumbled upon my grandmother's scrapbook. I wish that the photographs could speak to me. This picture seems to be the family picking blueberries. What lovely family times they had. I recognize some of of grandma's family..brothers, sisters and friends. I wish I could ask my grandma and my mom about their lives...day to day life, special travels, events and friends. If you're blessed enough to have family still with you, ask now...everything you've wondered about. Ask now...you'll be happy you did.

Eggs and Bunnies and Memories



Decorating Easter eggs is one of my favorite memories of Easter. We have had so much fun over the years. Even though Grace and T.J. are older now, we still have fun decorating the eggs. We like to get the  traditional Paas Egg Decorating kit and lose the stickers enclosed.  The whole family joins in and we come up with some crazy eggs....
Tie dye eggs...You could have guessed that!  
Stripes. 
Monogrammed, using a crayon first so the dye won't take on the wax.
Polka dots
Rasta colors

No matter how crazy the eggs get, it's fun for us all to be together with a common goal. Creativity creates peace in our home. Everyone has style.

My mom loved to dye Easter eggs when she visited for Easter. I think of her whenever I see the Paas Easter Egg Kit. She loved it. Her preference was solid pastels. After they were colored, she got her bunnies in a row and put the eggs in all of her crystal candlesticks. Mom loved decorating for the seasons....at Easter, I'm thinking pink candles.I'm happy that our memories are sweet.

Mom loved to come with Easter Baskets for the kids. She loved to watch them hunt for eggs and jellybeans She was delighted to see them dressed in their Easter finest. Going to church with them added a new dimension to prayer. Easter Baskets, eggs, bunnies and enthusiasm. That's how I think of mom at Easter.



What Easter Bonnet Will You Be Wearing?

As the song goes......

Never saw you look quite so pretty before
Never saw you dressed quite so lovely what's more
I could hardly wait to keep our date this lovely Easter morning
And my heart beat fast as I came through the door
For

In your Easter bonnet, with all the frills upon it
You'll be the grandest lady in the Easter parade

I'll be all in clover and when they look you over
I'll be the proudest fellow in the Easter parade

On the Avenue
Fifth Avenue
The photographers will snap us
And you'll find that you're
In the rotogravure

Oh, I could write a sonnet about your Easter bonnet
And of the girl I'm taking to the Easter parade








http://www.heraldnet.com/apps/pbcsi.dll/bilde?Site=DH&Date=20110405&Category=NEWS01&ArtNo=704059900&Ref=AR&MaxW=306&MaxH=296




http://bloximages.chicago2.vip.townnews.com/nctimes.com/content/tncms/assets/editorial/0/46/e3c/046e3c2d-3403-52e3-9c81-8e1ccd5f42a3.image.jpg



http://www.alittleindulgence.us/blog/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/hats-4-6-11.jpghttp://ullam.typepad.com/photos/uncategorized/2007/03/25/her_easter_bonnet.jpg

Kidshoedje2























http://www.historicdowntownsnohomish.org/Userfiles/Easter-Parade/Lori-in-Bonnet.jpg


http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_yNtUwSQfRH4/S6yufmeoRAI/AAAAAAAACVA/H4MrUP_MuFM/s1600/IMG_6.jpg

http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cm1e4tl9DcE/S7lOZGq-UII/AAAAAAAABg8/3Hud6QxDLdQ/s1600/PinkPolkaDotGirls040410.jpg



http://pumapac.org/wp-content/uploads/2009/04/easterbonnet.jpg


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Generic Easter Families


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    I did.  I used the loud voice. The desperate mother voice.
     
    We stand on the sidelines. Parents. Moms and dads. We all have someone we love playing out on the field. We all  love and care deeply for each of our children. We stand watching our team...through the good, the bad and the ugly. Players in the game, players on the sidelines, on the field...defense, offense, goalies, middies.... penalties, players down, time outs, goals, missed goals. 
     
    As we stand on the sidelines, we all have one thing in common....we love our boys and we want them to play their best and win the game. Each of us knows how much they have invested in the game...the practices, the training, the years of dedication.  We also know our own boy. We know how desperately they want to win. We know that this has been a tough year for these guys. They have new players, a new coach  and they've had disappointments. They keep working. The team plays well. Sadly, we have seen their opponents play better...or luckier...or.....
     
    So, on the sidelines, we want them to win...not just for the win but for the spirit of each boy who works so hard. We know our boy. We know how hard he will take it if the team doesn't win. We know what happens on the ride home...the disappointment of his own plays, disappointment of the team, feeling bad that the team has disappointed the coach....overall misery for all.
     
    We know our boys. We feel their pain. They are big guys now....taller, stronger, tougher. They play hard. They do their best. To us, they are still our little guys. They may have deeper voices. They may have bigger, smellier feet. They may get sweatier. The may yell louder. Their lacrosse sticks are longer. But, they are our boys. We know them better than anyone. We know their ups, their downs and their in betweens. We remember how they played as toddlers, we remember their time-outs and we remember their tantrums. We see all of this as they play on the field. We see it in their faces when they get a penalty and when they miss a goal..We know that they still like peanut butter and jelly, only on whole wheat.

    Moms and dads care. Moms and dads get excited as we watch the games. Some may shout out plays or yell to the ref. while others, like me, cheer for our team. I call out their names! I shout out the name of  the team! The other moms and dads do the same. Sometimes I  do my loudest whistle. I yell DEFENSE! YOU GOT IT! YOU CAN DO IT!  and more. So do the other moms. We stomp our feet on the grass. We turn away. We shout some more. 

    Almost every one of us have heard those words...before the game, during the game or after the game. We may even hear our kids beg of us in their sleep. Their view of their world. T.J. can only hear my voice out on the field. Mike's mom only hears her voice. Grace heard only one thing at her last game...it was when I called her name for another player....same uniform...same ponytail...same pink goggles and a random happy color stick. No matter where, when or how....they do not want to be different. They want to fit it.. They do not want embarrassment. It's all about them. Life. Their life. The way they see it. The teenage struggle.throughout time. They think it is only their struggle.
     
    Still on the sidelines, we talk about our families.We compare our kids stories from school. We laugh. We see them miss a goal and we cringe. We root some more and try to will their ball into the net. We scream. We pout. We talk amongst ourselves. We talk about our boys. We talk about school. We compare stories. We talk about the royal wedding. 
     
    Parents on the sidelines....it's a connection like no other. We know the boys play on the same team. We know they are friendly We have known many of them for years...if only at the sidelines and Stop and Shop or a second grade field trip to the farm. We know how they play. We know where they live. We know their siblings. We know there will always be superstars. We know there will be kids who struggle. We know there are some who do it because there older brothers or sisters play.We know the parents who live through their kids. We know there are players who give it their all. We know which players lose their temper.We know which players hog the ball.

    T.J was on his way  back out to the field. He ran towards our gaggle of parents who had been cheering our hearts out. He ran towards me..I smiled the smile of a proud mom...I wanted to give him support....by giving him that motherly nod of approval. .He continued towards me like a football player en route to a touchdown....he had his helmet on...he had his mouthpiece in....he had his stick in his hands... like a weapon? He looked fierce!
     
    No, he looked fiercely at me....he spewed through his mouthpiece, "DO NOT CHEER! STOP".....and he was gone. Out on the field. In the game..Did I mention that he had eye black on his cheeks.... that somehow it looked like war paint?
     
    We continued our chatter on the sidelines. We laughed at our teenagers'  rules. They really believe that we should listen to their rules. We call out the wrong names. We cheer at the wrong time.We cheer too loud. We take pictures. We call out the name of the town when we should call out the name of the school. We don't know the game.We just don't get it. I continued cheering. I stopped the whistles. I still cheered. The other moms and I felt as superstitious. Just like players in the big league....and our boys have superstitions.... .we thought when we cheered they got the goals. Maybe? Either way, we know they need us.