Goodbye Butterflies!

My grandmother gave me this butterfly quilt years and years ago…. probably 25 or 26 years past.  It was filled with that old fashioned batting that made the blanket hug you and keep you warmer than the average quilt.  At one time the colors were vibrant and cheery, the sweet soft pinks, turquoises and lavenders of the 40s.  The pea-green backing was less than my favorite color, but hey, it was on the back.  This quilt was well loved! Several times over the years, before it was completely shredded, I thought of re-doing the blanket stitch around each butterfly…. but that task never made it high enough on my daily to-do lists. So the butterflies slowly flew away as did the days of the quilt’s life.

It became my son’s favorite blanket that he used on his bed for years.  It was under a presentable comforter so I didn’t care how ratty it looked.  Then he went on a church camping trip and took it as his only blanket…. making us look worse than homeless people.  I tried to simply talk him down from using it, but NO!  This was the coziest quilt in the galaxy.  I waited to confiscate it until the dark of the night when it had fallen off his bed and he was snoring.  Hidden under my bed is where it remained for several years because I was not sure if I could throw away the quilt my grandmother handmade and gave to me.

Yesterday I was obviously low on nostalgic sensibilities.  The quilt came out from under our bed and I seriously took in each butterfly, analyzing if they were still redeemable.  Some had no wings.  At all.  The ones that did have wings also had holes that could not be repaired.  Rolling up the shabby blanket as I headed for the garbage can I realized that if I didn’t take a picture the memory of the butterfly quilt would fade.  Hence, the photo and the story written for posterity, so my grandchildren will know the tale of the pea-green, vintage quilt that they never got the pleasure to wrap up in.

Goodbye butterflies!  You served us well!

P.S. O.K., after writing this, I went and got it out of the garbage and cut out and saved a few of the butterflies.  I figure I could frame them for the laundry room or for my future sewing room.  I guess I have a bit more nostalgia today than yesterday.  Thankfully it wasn’t garbage pick-up day!

Keeve the Thirteen-Year-Old

Today, my baby boy turned 13, and despite all the warnings…. I wasn’t quite ready. He’s my baby boy for goodness sake. He is our only child, out of four, who was born in the USA. (We have two Canadians and one Colombian.) I felt the need to display the American flag picture for all to see.  He was so darling…. and the sole child with an American photo shoot.

We also tried to take a NICE family photo during his birthday party… but I guess I didn’t stress the word NICE loudly enough.  Believe it or not, THIS is the best one we got…… (sigh)

Yes, the birthday boy has his eyes crossed.  Typical.  Why am I surprised???  I don’t know.  He does bring lots of laughter and joy to our home, for which I’m thankful.  Keeve was our easy child.  From birth, every time anyone looked at him he couldn’t help but smile.  See?  Darling. 

I tried to liven up the party and did a little jig for Keeve…. he picked up one of the birthday cards he had just opened and held it up to me.  It said, “WOW!”… then he turned it over so it said, “MOM”  Hahahahaha.   Then I stopped dancing.  If every kid was as mild-mannered and sweet as Keeve, this world would be a better place… albeit moving at a MUCH slower pace.

Happy Birthday, to my little sunshine huggy buns. (Oops, did I type that out loud?)

 

It Ain’t What it Used to Be

Yesterday was not only my eldest son’s golden birthday (14 on the 14th) but it was my youngest son’s introduction to headgear.  Eeeegads.  My brother wore headgear in the late 1970s, but times have changed and so has headgear.  I’ve made a solemn promise never to post pictures on facebook…. or my blogs.  A mother’s got to protect the dignity of her children, after all.  I also promised son #1 that if he made fun of son #2 I would make some headgear for him to wear and pictures would be broadcast for all to see.  (I’m the nice mom, remember?)

So, the purpose of the contraption is to pull the entire upper bridge, including attached cheek bones, forward… while holding the forehead and chin where they are.  I’ve never seen anything like it.  At least it’s a pretty blue color.  :o)  Dr. Ortho said that our son didn’t need to wear it to school.  I said, “Oh yes he does!”  Yet another advantage to homeschooling…. cutting headgear time down by two-thirds.  He even wears it to sleep.  Not my idea of a good time, but he’s coping well.

Every time I see Mr. Headgear, I am surprised by the metal bar dissecting his face.  Hopefully I’ll get used to it… it just looks so much like a transformer, or a cling-on, or a muzzle.  I’m the mom, though, so I still think he’s cute.  I told him at bedtime that we actually do need to take a picture of him wearing the headgear so his children will know how we tortured him.  That’s what parents do.

My Son, the Creative Genius

My son Keeve is eternally leaving little signs of his creative genius around the house.  It brings a smile to my face each time I find some little ditty that he has spent his energy on…. for no real reason at all.  Just because.  He is 11…. I don’t remember my older son going through the 11-year-old-creative phase… maybe this is unique to this child.  Who knows? 

Our first example above is the Trix cereal box that has been carefully altered to read Trixie….. the name of our dog.  Notice the font size and type were recreated with precision.  Wow!  Such artistic talent!  The Trix box was not complete without the editing done by my dog-loving son.  And besides, Trix are for kids.   This is the boy who has asked for Sharpie permanent pens for Christmas more than once.  He LOVES his Sharpies.  They are so useful.  And they write on practically anything, whether it is supposed to be written on or not.

Exhibit #2 is the school work/microphone station at the back picnic table.  This is not a temporary set up in the happenstance that a song breaks forth from his soul today alone.  The golf putter is taped to the stool and the table for future song outbursts in this particular math-doing seat.  So ingenious!  So creative!  So useful…. especially when he’s supposed to be doing math… right after he finds a putter in the garage, a stool from his brother’s room, the packing tape from the pantry, etc. etc. etc.

Our final exhibit, the bejeweled Bible.  I remember picking out this Bible for him in the Christian bookstore, thinking that he had out-grown the little boy Bibles and needed a grown-up, leather-covered Bible.  Within the first month, he wrote out two particularly significant verses on the cover in ball point ink (why didn’t I think of that?)…. John 3:16, one known to many.  But he also included Job 3:2…. “he said.”  That’s it.  He said.  It is a complete sentence as it contains a noun and a verb.  Keeve is fond of this verse… I’m not sure why? 

And the jewels in the shape of a cross… what can a mother say?  He did do a very careful hot gluing job because there is no trace of hot glue gun strings running from jewel to jewel.  The heart in the middle of the cross did this mother’s heart good.  The cover wouldn’t be complete in this child’s life without Sharpie pen too, of course.  What could be of more importance than his name?  Naming your belongings is why Sharpie pens were invented, right?  Right!

I love my Keeve. <3

Happy B-day, Rickey!

Today is my husband’s 43rd birthday so I thought I’d share some photos of him at what he does best.  This first example is “Being Cool.”  See how he’s instructing his fine young men to be cool too.  It’s an important trait to master.  Being cool.  It’s also all about crossing your arms and pushing your muscles to look bigger than they actually are.  Being cool.  And sunglasses.  Not just any sunglasses… cool sunglasses, like the ones Rick is sporting here.  He purchased them in a women’s boutique in Sedona when the supremely awesome sales lady told him that men from Scottsdale buy her glasses all the time…. and, get this…. that he looks like Elvis.  She could have sold him bedazzled capri jeans for himself!!!  Being cool!

Here, we have Rick protecting his most valuable asset, his beautiful 16 year old daughter. Being scary, that’s what this is called.  It’s important when you have a 16 year old daughter.  Being scary.  Rick looks kind of teddy-bear-ish in this picture, but that’s because you can’t see his concealed weapon that he only shows to teenage boys. Being scary.  He has given his daughter a stack of his business cards to hand out in case any teenage boys want to talk to her.  It’s an easy out for her, “Here’s my dad’s number.  You can talk to him first…”  It hasn’t actually happened, probably because the truth about the concealed weapon has been leaked. Being scary. He’s good at it, if need be.

This is what he does best, here in this last picture of the photo tribute for his 43rd birthday… Being fun. The untranied eye may not be able to decipher it, but let me help you. See how his mouth is? He has either just said something funny, or is in the middle of saying something funny.  Being fun.  This may not seem like an all-encomposing-highly-important trait, but it is.  Being fun.  It was actually a requirement to marry into our family.  Being fun.

Happy Birthday, Rickey!  We all love you!

My Handsome Son has Returned

Glory Be! I’ve waited for this day for almost a year.  The pleasant part was that Aus ASKED for a haircut.… be still my beating heart.  He has looked like Raggedy Andy since last Spring.  I felt like one of those mothers.  You know, the kind that let their kids do whatever they want….  guilt had been mounting in my soul for over half a year.  Only under duress did he let me trim it so it didn’t cover his beautiful Caribbean blue eyes.  And all his flipping to the left was starting to make my neck sore.

Yes, this is my son….  (real men wear pink…. he tells us.) … BEFORE:

We went to the Coyotes hockey game on Thursday night and in the program there was a picture of Peter Mueller with a faux hawk.  Thank you, Peter!  You don’t know how your influence has pleased this mother’s heart. Not only on the ice… but also in front of the mirror.

This was the first chop.  Aus asked if we were going to donate it to Locks of Love… {he’s so cute!}  The sad part is, his natural bleach blond is gone until he spends some time outside.  Never have I cut this much hair off of a head.

May I present, my handsome 12 year old son, Austin… AFTER: (it’s still wet… that’s how excited I was to take the picture!)

Oh, I just want to clap my hands all fast in front of my heart and do a little jig.  It’s the small things that make moms jubilant.  (Now, to catch son #2….)