Starships

Let's go to the beach, each
Let's go get away
They say, what they gonna say?


My paternal grandparents lived on North Long Lake in my hometown. Every April, as soon as the ice would thaw on their bay ... my two older cousins and I would die waiting for it to be warm enough to swim. I'm pretty sure our first submersion into North Long was in May, if not April, each spring. We couldn't wait. We couldn't feel our toes, or stop chattering our teeth, but there was something magical about that lake and summers spent on the peeling, redwood dock, drinking canned Shasta and eating panfried Sunnies Grandpa helped us catch with cane poles. So each April and May, my nostalgia points toward that beloved, sandy-bottomed lake and I crave the scent of suntan oil and outboard motor gas and beach bonfires and a pile of clean, scratchy Joe Camel swim towels stacked neatly in the boathouse. 


My daughter inherited a lot of things from me- her love and need of bodies of water being one. It's delightful. So it comes as no surprise that as soon as the Robins showed up and the sun stretched into 6pm, and 7pm ... making it bright at 8pm, she assumed summer was here to stay and started wearing her bathing suit on the daily. Fill up my pool! she would chant as I poured coffee, bleary-eyed, at dawn, Fill up my pool! she would chant as I tucked her in at dusk. 


Her pool, the cheap, plastic ribbed-bottomed kind from KMart is still stowed in the shed. The fill up my pool! chant is still omnipresent. So what would any logical four-year-old do but use what resources she had to make her own pool? Filling up Daddy's retro snow sled with freezing cold hose water? In early May?


Yes, baby girl. I know exactly why you couldn't wait.
Exactly. 

60

A very special Happy 60th Birthday to Grandma S. today! Surprise, surprise. We gotcha good!

To the woman who loves lunches with her girlfriends, popcorn, Hot Tamales, her namesake granddaughter, the color purple, margaritas, her family, and the holidays .... happy birthday, we love you!

Word {from} Your Mama

I Never

I never knew the words to every single song on the Mamma Mia! soundtrack.
I never pressed repeat on Take a Chance on Me 47 times in one evening.
I never asked a pharmacist at Target- the really handsome one- where Miralax is kept.
I never took days off work for zoo fieldtrips.
I never found sequins and glitter stuck to most everything I own.
I never went to three separate grocery stores looking for Cars II Cheez-Its.
I never willingly gave up the whipped cream off my mochas.
I never stopped the car to watch horses run in the pasture, rendering me late for everything.
I never cried when my friends announced pregnancies.
I never wrote Kraft Mac & Cheese on the menu board twice in one week.
I never wrangled such small dresses onto even tinier plastic princesses.
I never knew I couldn't fall asleep without placing a hand on a beating chest.
I never did laundry late at night so I could sneak an important blanket in and out of bed.
I never knew pride actually made your chest swell and eyes water.
I never knew the importance of sour cream at each and every meal.
I never thought the best Fridays nights were Target runs, pizza, and sidewalk chalk.
I never knew the most important thing in my handbag would always be baby wipes.
I never knew fear.
Hope. Challenge. Purpose. Forgiveness. Contentment.
Until you made me a Mama.
Today I celebrate Mother's Day with the reason why.
With coffee, whipped cream, CMT, and gifted ceramic birds.
I love you, sweet girl.
You're my everything.
Thank you for making me a Mama.
Thank you, thank you.
Endlessly.
Mama loves.

Word {from} Your Mama

Miss Lippy

Don't let the adorableness fool you; this sweet face knows sass ... and how to apply it properly.
Right now, my own Mama is laughing all alone somewhere. She mentioned on the lil' dude's 4th birthday just how difficult four would prove to be. I laughed. Surely not.

Oh hindsight. How dare you.

A few Sundays ago, I woke up my sleeping daughter so we could go to Sunday school while Daddy golfed. She fluttered her eyelids and said, I don't wanna go to Sunday school. But you can take me to breakfast for stickies.

Stickies are French toast with sausage. I obliged her and we headed to our favorite local diner.

Since we were looking for a breakfast spot during the Sunday rush, we had to settle for spaces at the counter. The lil' dude thought that rocked- think of all the attention that little face above garnered front and center of a busy diner!

Nearing the end of our meal, the owner, Jean, said to her, "Now I know you look familiar sweetheart. What's your name?"

Without skipping a beat my Miss Lippy responded with, It's the same as it was the last time I was here and you asked me.

Oh yes she did.

Those in earshot burst out in laughter. The lil' dude held her steady gaze, licking syrup off her fork.

Jean, once composed said, "I know honey. I remember you're named after your Grandma, and that it's Norwegian. I just don't remember your name!"

The lil' dude said her name aloud and finished her breakfast. And Jean kept chuckling promising she'd never forget her name again. I assure you, 49 people in that diner will never forget her name.

When I mentioned this story to my parents, my Dad simply nodded. He said the lil' dude was simply processing logic during the transaction. That logically, she knew Jean knew her name from the last visit. She wasn't being bratty or rude; she was processing.

Leave it to Papa to come to the rescue of his one and only granddaughter!

Word {from} Your Mama