Friday Night Fun...

Do you remember when the typical Friday night involved dinner, a movie, hanging out with friends, staying up late? Times have changed, ladies and gentlemen. Our typical Friday nights involve bacon, pancakes, and animated films featuring a princess or a fairy or a mermaid (or, on the rare occassion, a cute and cuddly animal). Did you know that I have memorized the theme song to Strawberry Shortcake (and I'm pretty sure that Strawberry could kick Barbie's butt any day). Motherhood has turned my brain to mush, hasn't it?

Where were we??? Oh yeah... Movie Night (or "Newbie Night" as Ellie calls it) has become a much loved family tradition at our house. But tonight we got a little wild and crazy. We skipped the pancakes and bacon in favor of granola bars and gold fish crackers this evening. Healthy, I know. We put the movie on hold and we colored Easter eggs. We even broke out the glitter. I'm telling you...we're shaking things up around here, but isn't that what Friday nights are for?







I hope your Friday night had a little "wild and crazy" in it!

The Outside...It Counts.

During my teenage years, when I was a sweet, kind young flower of a girl
a confused, insecure, and clueless young girl, my mother would tell me the same thing, over and over. "Pretty is as Pretty does, Holly." I remember one of the first times that phrase really hit home for me.

Picture this: A poodle-haired, slightly gawky seventh grade girl (with braces...let's not forget the braces) saw the names of three girls on the blackboard and her's was included. Said poodle-haired girl was nominated for Valentine's Dutchess. She went home that night and cried on her bed, because there was no way this braces-covered, gawky girl could become the Valentine's Dutchess. Mostly, she felt that these other girls were so much prettier than her and it was probably just a joke. And her mother said, "Holly, Pretty is as Pretty does. Do not ever forget that you can't really be pretty if you don't ACT pretty, because beauty comes from the inside, honey." I'm sure she also said, "Holly, you're cute, too (in a gawky, poodlish kind of way)." This cliche-filled, yet super intelligent mom was saying that poodle hair and braces be damned, because the inside was WAY more important than the outside. And you know what? She was right (but then mothers always are, aren't they?). That poodle-haired girl was crowned Valentine's Dutchess a few days later.

And for the remainder of my confident, outgoing, blessed existence (humor me, here), I trusted that the most important things are always on the inside (except for that lengthy period in college when I desperately wanted bigger boobs, because those frat boys seemed to have missed the memo about beauty coming from the inside. Ha!).
That is, until a few years ago, when I was decorating for Christmas.

My grandmother had passed away and I was given this package. When I was a little girl, I fell in love with one of my Grandma's Christmas decorations. It was a centerpiece with three angels on it. My Grandma said that the angels represented her three grandaughters (my cousins Kelly, Chris, and me). In 1978, when I was three-years-old, my Grandma wrote on the box:

"This belongs to Holly when I am no longer here."

"Witnessed by Chrisy"

I loved those angels (and still do), but for some reason, I love the box that holds the angels even more.

My Pappy wrote on the box: "To Ruthie, From Gene on our 40th wedding anniversary."

My Grandma wrote on the box: "Jan. 17 - big snow just hit us. Gene in with the flu."


I wrote on the box: "First used to decorate Holly's house in December 2002...a white Christmas."

"2009 - A white Christmas."

And you know what I realized? Sometimes the outside is more important than the inside...as long as the "outside" doesn't have a bad perm and braces!

Happy Mudder's Day...

On Sunday, our home was filled with tiny little hands bearing gifts, home made cards to be treasured, and an original "Stevemark" (as opposed to Hallmark) poem that made me laugh. I had an awesome mother's day weekend, complete with Duncan Donuts, chocolate marshmallow stuffed croissants, stir fry, and fillet mignon (because my husband knows that food = happiness to me). The first thing I heard when I woke up (after sleeping in later than everyone else...because my husband also knows that sleeping in comes in a close second behind food on my happiness scale) was the sound of two little girls shouting "Happy Mudder's Day" as I walked into the kitchen. And the last thing I heard from one tiny little red-headed two-year old that night was, "Happy Mudder's Day...I lub you, Mama."

I think I enjoyed this Mother's Day more than any before it. I hope I will always remember what an amazing blessing it is to be called Mom (or Mama, as Ellie prefers). Sure, I deserve to be celebrated (so bring on the donuts and the poems and the fillet mignon). But on Mother's Day, I think we should also celebrate the gift that we have been given- the chance to share our life with our sweet kids. It is a dream that many women are still praying for, still hoping for. This weekend, I prayed for all of those women who are still waiting for the day when they will walk into the kitchen amid shouts of "Happy Mudder's Day," and "I lub you, Mama." May their prayers be answered as graciously as mine have, and may they know the joy that comes with motherhood.

Kate was so excited about these "special seeds." She told me last week that they planted special seeds for mother's day but that it was a surprise. Then she looked at me and said, "Shhh...don't tell anyone, okay?" It was our little secret!
For those of you who don't know, Steve loves to buy cards...lots of cards. Everyone gets at least two Hallmark cards from Steve on their birthday. I'm not a huge card fan - I prefer handwritten notes and funny poems. So this year, I got a "Stevemark" original...much better than a Hallmark card in my book!

Love this picture of me. Must talk to my hair stylist about the strange yellow and brown striped hair. Oh...and I wanted to note that I am NOT the same age as daddy - I am 5 years younger than daddy. Just sayin'.

This is Ellie's sweet card for me. I can't imagine how they got her to hold her hands still long enough to make it, but I suspect it took extra helpers!

It's Italiano...

After Steve and I had been dating for a few weeks, he invited me to his house for dinner with his family. Dinner with the family can be very overwhelming, especially when it is a large, Italian family. But Steve was cute and I figured I could handle it, so I agreed to go. I was getting my wisdom teeth out two days before the Big Dinner, but I thought... how bad could it be? When I found out we were having spaghetti, I was so thankful. Something slippery and easy to eat...perfect for my sore mouth and my hugely puffy chipmunk cheeks. Yes, I did show up to the Big Dinner with chipmunk cheeks. And I learned something about Italian cooking that night. Spaghetti with homemade sauce is not - I repeat, NOT - a suitable meal for a chipmunk girl. Seriously. Homemade spaghetti sauce (at least the way Steve's family makes it) is far different than my traditional and much loved Ragu. I took one bite and felt sure my huge cheeks were going to burst into flames. Saying that it was hot is an understatement. I pretended to eat it, while I wondered how I was going to extinguish the fire in my mouth (and still be polite and kind and likable during the Big Dinner). Thankfully, I learned another great thing about Italian families that evening...everyone talks and laughs and drinks red wine in generous amounts. So when they weren't looking, I slid my bowl (yes, Italians eat pasta in bowls...how weird is that?) to Steve and said in a very firm voice "Here, EAT IT." Which he graciously did.

Today, nearly 14 years later, we laugh about the Big Dinner and my flaming chipmunk cheeks. Recently, Steve wanted to introduce Kate to the fun of Italian cooking (the real way, not the Ragu way that takes place in our household). So we made a trip to Steve's parents to make ravioli. Everything in the ravioli was homemade by Steve's dad - the pasta, the cheese, and the sauce. Isn't that amazing? Who makes cheese these days? Kate had a fun time helping in the kitchen and the rest of us enjoyed the awesome, true Italian meal. Thankfully, my cheeks have even learned to handle the flaming spaghetti sauce!


Thanks Pop Pop and LoLo for the great dinner! Salud! (see, I am becoming Italian, sort of).

30 Crazy Days...

Now that the tree is down and the decorations are packed away, I have a minute to think back over the last month. Do you ever wonder why we try to shove a million and one things into the 30 days leading up to Christmas? It's crazy and it's stressful, but it's also so much fun - a month of wonderful traditions and a time to make lasting memories. Here's what I want to remember about this Christmas:

• Steve and Kate made a gingerbread house together. He was very intent on building and decorating it perfectly and Kate just wanted to eat it. That's why the windows aren't outlined with icing...there wasn't any left when Kate was done with it!
  
• Ellie's favorite ornament was the baby in the bassinett. At least three times a day she had to kiss the baby and say "Hi Baby" and wave her little hands. So cute!


• My favorite ornament is a little time capsule that holds a rolled up scroll inside. The first year we celebrated Christmas in our tiny townhouse, Steve and I wrote lots of fun things on that scroll like news headlines, presents we got that year, favorite movies, our goals for the year. The funniest thing in there is that we wrote about the high gas prices that year...$1.89. Wouldn't we love to have that now?


• We lost two ornaments this year - a snow globe with Kate's name on it that was flung across the kitchen floor (many tears followed that incident) and the Rockettes (which Kate called the cheerleaders), who somehow got beheaded. Poor things. But their legs still looked good and isn't that what Rockettes are all about?!?


• Kate secretly rearranged the nativity scene so that all the animals were huddled around the Baby Jesus, practically licking his little head. I organized it several times, only to find it rearranged again. Finally, I made peace with Kate's version of the first Christmas.


• We did the Jesse Tree for the first time. Kate loved it, but I'm not sure she understood all of it. Mostly, she just wanted to touch all the ornaments and hang them on the special tree in her room.


• Steve and I went to his work Christmas party for the first time in two years. We danced like crazy people.
  
• We met our friends Lori and Wayne to see a Christmas show and lights at an amusement park. We drank three gallons of hot chocolate and we danced and sang loudly through the park.
  
• The girls' favorite tradition was the advent calendar with the chocolate inside. Little Ellie had chocolate smeared all over her face by 8 a.m. every morning.


• Ellie would walk around the house and say Hi to every Santa, like they were real people hanging out at our house. She'd casually wave and say "Hi Santa" as she pushed her baby stroller by the Big Man in the red suit.


• Every night, Steve sang Christmas carols with the girls. They learned so many and sang them all the time. Kate's favorites were "Up on the Housetop" and "Jolly Old Saint Nicholas." He also read them "Twas the Night Before Christmas" every night and Kate memorized a lot of it.
  
• Kate was in a little play at her daycare. She was a dancing doll. She had a little stage fright at first, but she was so adorable!
  
• Kate wanted a Tinkerbell doll and Ellie had no clue what she wanted for Christmas (or that she could even ask for anything).


• We took the girls to see Santa on Christmas Eve. They got their picture taken and when he asked Kate what she wanted, she told him she wanted The Princess and the Frog. Hello??? What happened to the Tinkerbell doll?
  
• The girls were really excited to celebrate Jesus's birthday. During breakfast on Christmas morning, we sang Happy Birthday to Jesus. I'm so glad they understood what we were celebrating!


• The magic of the season found its way into our home.
  

Thanksgiving Prep...

I love Thanksgiving, because it's such a stress-free holiday. It's definitely among my top three! I just have to show up and eat...and I do love to eat! But I suspect that it's not quite so simple for all of you who have to cook (like my mom). So for the past two years, the girls and I have arrived at Grammy Linda's house promptly at 9 a.m. (I mean, just before 11 a.m.- did I mention that I'm always late?) the day before Thanksgiving to help with the prep work. We bake gingerbread and shred cabbage and we cheer on my mom as she sews up the hogmaw (yuck...I know. I don't eat it - it's pig's stomach stuffed with cabbage and sausage and potatoes). My mom feels that it is very important for me to know how to make it so when she's old and decrepit and can't cook during the holidays, I will have no excuse for not having it on the Thanksgiving menu. I was planning to replace it promptly with mac 'n cheese when I took over the Thanksgiving duties, but I guess it's the least I can do for her! I love getting ready for the holidays and smelling the delicious foods and just being a part of the hustle and bustle. The day before Thanksgiving is quickly becoming one of my favorites of the year.

Kate helped to make the gingerbread and yes...she is wearing a Dorothy costume from the Wizard of Oz. It's all the rage these days among the preschool crowd and since I got for $2 at Walmart, she can wear it whenever she wants! That slimy thing in the bowl is the hogmaw and yes, she is holding a needle and thread (you thought I was joking about sewing up a pig's stomach, didn't you?). See that pepper container? That was my job. I was the designated pepper shaker this year. Ha...that's about the extent of my cooking skills.
This is one of three desserts for Thanksgiving. It will be joined by Apple Pie and Gingerbread Cake with Lemon Sauce. Oh...and lots of Ice Cream. I capitalized them because we all know they are the most important parts of the meal.
I didn't want you to think we were all "Martha Stewart" or anything. We bake from a box in this family!
Ellie enjoyed the day in front of the TV, watching non-stop Dora and Diego. She was such a big help...heheh. But isn't she adorable?

Happy Thanksgiving, Everyone!

Fall Decor

When I was little, I remember how excited I was each year when I got off the bus and saw our front window decorated for Halloween (or Valentine's Day or St. Patrick's Day). My mom used to decorate the house while I was in school and then hang a few decorations on the front window. It was so fun to come inside and know that our home was ready to welcome the season. So... in the spirit of tradition (and trying to live up to my mom), I decided to spend a few minutes decorating the house for Halloween / Fall before I picked up the girls from daycare yesterday. They loved it and were so excited. Kate took Ellie on a tour of the place, searching for pumpkins all over the house. She kept saying, "Come on Ellie...let's find more pumpkins." Ellie just yelled "Pumpins" and followed Kate obediently. I hope the girls will look back and remember the excitement of fall, and I hope they will have cozy memories of their home all decked out for the season!

Ellie is very attached to this pumpkin!

P.S. Did you notice my auction cabinet in the first photo? I found a place for it. I think I'll paint it white after Halloween so that it matches the cabinet (which Steve made and isn't very proud of, by the way). What do you think?

Summer Send-off: On the Boat Again...

This should be the last in my Summer Send-off Series. We have had so many cool evenings this week and it just smells like fall outside. I think I'm ready to let go of summer and embrace the crisp air and falling leaves.

So, do you remember how we decided that Summer is a Place…on the water? For Steve, that place is in Indiana (if you missed that conversation, you can check it out here). Well, for me, summer is a place on the water an hour and a half north of here. My family has gone boating there since the dawn of creation….or at least since 1975 (the dawn of my creation).

Every year, my dad cleans off the boat (the very same boat that I’ve been riding in for 33 years now), checks the engine (that part is new), and makes sure the life jackets and flares are all good to go. Then we schedule a few day trips to the lake. We have a routine, though I wouldn’t call it a well-oiled one. My mom makes chicken salad and chocolate chip cookies (or cream cheese brownies). There’s always cheese, crackers, bologna, pasta salad, and chips. Every now and then someone forgets the rolls (who would be that airheaded???). Of course, Steve remembers the beer. That’s his job, and I must say that he is very good at it. We always agree to meet at a certain time, and we’re always at least 30 minutes late (my dad and I are two of kind when it comes to being on time). My dad always wears this shirt (one that I bought him for father’s day at least 15 years ago).
Our typical boating agenda involves cruising at high speeds for about an hour (the girls love it and so do I, though those bumps are much harder to handle when you’re holding a baby – just ask my mom. She has a huge bruise to prove it). Then we usually find a spot to tie off, spread a blanket on the bow of the boat, break out all the food, and start eating. Then we swim (though sometimes, depending on how hot it is, we swim first and eat later). Steve likes to float around with his beer, but I noticed that he was having a hard time balancing his beer and his two life-jacketed children on this trip. I reminded him that the children were his priority! We feed fish and watch dragon flies and laugh about swimming snakes. We chase the kids around the boat and pray that no one falls overboard. We tolerate little girls who insist on blowing the whistles hooked to their life jackets. Then we take another boat ride and head back to the marina to load it up and head home. Things aren’t always the same, of course. Some years, we have camped and boated for two or three days straight. Some years, I refused to go boating for fear that all that bumping would hurt the tiny baby growing inside me.

Sometimes, we water ski and ride big bertha (a huge tube), and sometimes our boat is overflowing with people, including my brother, his wife, and my two nieces.

One thing is true, though. That lake has been the spot of many, many summer memories. Steve taught me to waterski on that lake. I went tubing for the first time on that lake. My girls love to swim in that lake. We have eaten hundreds of chocolate chip cookies on that lake. Steve and I have decided that we are “boat people.” We both love the smell of gasoline on the water. We love driving fast and feeling the wind whip all around us. We love jumping off the back of the boat and floating in the water. We love the thrill of getting pulled up on water skis. For us, summer truly is a place on the water…. and I can’t wait to get on the boat again!

Ellie's first swim in the Lake

The ocean calls...

The beach trip has come and gone, once again. It is a bittersweet feeling to pack up and leave for home. Our annual trip to the beach is one of my family's biggest traditions. Of course, the condos change and the weather varies and there's always a new cast of characters along for the adventure, but there is also something very familiar and comforting about this family tradition and each year I feel the ocean calling me back to its shores.

When we drive down the main drag past all of the hotels and boardwalk shops, we point out hotels where we've stayed and restaurants that we like. The stories are always the same and at this point, Steve could tell you where I stayed when I was six and I could tell you where he stayed during senior week (all four years that he experienced senior week...and no, he wasn't a senior four times - only twice. Just kidding! But the guy did love senior week).

We always visit the little house on 25th street that is the place of many epic vacation tales, including the time my hair was permed so tightly that we had to leave the beach every day at 3 p.m. and start conditioning it so that I'd be ready to go out to dinner at 5:30 p.m. Or the time that I got strep throat and stayed in bed most of the week. Or the time that our car broke down and my dad had to carry me many, many blocks because I was wearing my "stupid shoes" (but oh...I looked so cute in those tiny, red Dr. Scholl's clogs).

These days we eat seafood at the Captain's Galley, dance to the Jim Long Band, shop at the Kite Loft and Edwards on the Boardwalk, and search for wild ponies on a nearby island. We eat donuts and steamed shrimp (not in the same meal, of course) and we always order steamed crabs and enjoy a long evening of crab crackin' in our condo. We shop and read good books and play in the sand and ride the ocean waves. Steve and I rent jet skis and fly around the bay for an hour of wet, salty fun (which had to be canceled this year due to bad weather...bummer). But, we did hit the motherload of all seashells, which was so fun to collect with the kids.

One of my very favorite parts of the trip is riding bikes on the boardwalk. I love that my dad and his brother act like little kids when they get on their bikes. I love that my niece Mariah once fell off the side of the concrete area of the boardwalk on her bike, right into the sand. I love riding my bike to the end of the pier and feeling the wind blow through my hair while I stare out at the ocean. I love that this year, my mom found a little yellow trailer to pull the kids behind us on the bike (it was sitting along the side of her road, for free...how great is that?). I love smelling the fries and the popcorn and the funnel cakes all mixed with the salty air along the boardwalk. I love making it to the end of the boardwalk and checking out the giant shark in the glass case. Every year we read the story about that shark and every year it feels new again.

The ocean is such a magical place. It makes me feel young and happy. It reminds me of my childhood and my parents and our many family vacations.

As much as I love the sun and waves, the salty air and ocean breezes, I love the traditions and the memories that we create here the most. I love the family and friends who share those memories. I love that our little girls will become part of these traditions, hopefully enjoying them with us for years to come.