Ten Things I Forgot to Thank My Father For

Awww... you didn't think I could thank mom for all her sacrifices without thinking of some of the crazy stuff we put dad through did you?

Two really good lookin' people who were
destined to have really good lookin' kids.
And grandkids.

My parents have been married for over 35 years. They either love each other very much, or couldn't stand the thought of having to start over and raise more children. Since I'm an optimist, I'm going to believe it's the former. Dad was there right alongside mom, teaching and working to make sure my sister and I learned  how to be confident and independent - and not living at home for the rest of our lives.

Unlike moms, dads have a different kind of responsibility toward their children. Let's face it, if the kids don't bathe for a week and they break a fingernail or two before they learn to chew them off... would dad really care?

Fathers have a high tolerance for things mothers don't. That tolerance is what helps them teach their children about the great outdoors when camping for a week with no showers in sight. Nobody ever died of a little bug bite, and a bloody mess that leaves a scar but doesn't kill you "builds character". Dads know how to do "stuff". They fix things, build things, and jump in alongside you as if they too were nine years old. Dads deserve their own kind of thanks for the things we've forgotten.

Dad, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for:

1) Waking me up for school every morning. I now realize you probably dreaded waking me up more than I dreaded getting up. The cold water in the spray bottle though? That was genius.

"Like this Daddy. Good job!"

2) Yelling "Quit splashing!" and "I'd better not see water all over the floor in there!" Instead of just cutting bathtime from 30 minutes to three. You knew we were having fun. You also knew we were still going to get the floor sopping wet, no matter how much yelling was involved.

3) Going with me to the police station to take a bike safety class. And not being angry that I was required to attend because I got a "ticket" for riding on the wrong side of the street. Oh, and for letting me ride my bike all over town in the first place, even if mom wasn't so keen on the idea.

"...and if you turn the hose on really slow,
in the morning you'll have icicles."

4) Hanging the Christmas tree lights every year, inside and outside. Also, thanks for finding that one light that had burnt out. Thank goodness those are now "the good 'ol days".

I loved the icicles we had on our house in Florida. Sure, we knew you'd climbed up there with the water hose in order to get the icicles to form, but now I realize it was an extra effort you took just for the enjoyment of your family. (And trust me, I'm still talking about it three decades later - it was really fun.)

5) Teaching me to drive. (A stick shift no less!) I don't remember being traumatized or even scared when I got behind the wheel. I do remember the "mall cop" stopping us and asking what we were doing. I guess driving in circles in the parking lot at 9 pm on Sundays was a bit unusual back then.

"Daddy would never get this done
without my help!"

6) Teaching me the difference between a pipe wrench, adjustable wrench and socket wrench. You always let me "help" you do the jobs around the house, yard and in the garage. I learned a lot as you patiently taught me tasks that must have taken twice as long to complete when I was at your side.

7) Making me practice changing the tire on my car before letting me drive across the country. Oh, and showing me how to jump start a car. I wish I could remember what you taught me...

8) Letting me drive across the country. I still love traveling, and driving out to school in Wisconsin, on to New  York, down to Florida, and back home again holds many fond memories for me. I don't yet know what it's like to send your kid down the road with a spare tire and full tank of gas, but I can't imagine it was easy. Thanks for teaching me what I needed to know, and trusting me to use it.

9) Teaching me to respect my elders. Thanks for giving me a "dressing down" when I spoke badly about Grandpa, even though I know he drove you crazy too. Respect, loyalty and compassion were all traits you taught, not just through words, but through actions.

"Grandpa, Gracie says baseball games and camping
isn't just for boys. What do you think? Should
we let her in the club?"

10) Hiking up mountains, taking me to baseball games, camping for a week, and doing other things mom would rather not. I'd play outdoors all day and have a nice warm fire, dinner from a can, and s'mores when we got back to camp. Climbing Half Dome in Yosemite was by far the coolest hike we ever did. I still tell stories about that trip. (And my head swells with pride at the accomplishment - which would never have happened without your determination to get us to the top!)

The rules to baseball were explained over and over, and hot dogs and sodas accompanied my cousins and I as we watched our team play. I even remember playing baseball outside on Christmas day, and getting hit in the head with a baseball while sliding into home base... now we know what's wrong with me.

Kim and I still laugh about our trip into the Everglades. Only a dad would take his two girls primitive camping with "barking" alligators lurking about in the middle of the night! I love remembering the time we spent together. Those memories would never have happened if you'd left it up to mom!

Thanks dad, for everything.

Ten Things I Forgot to Thank My Mother For

As the saying goes,

"You don't know what you've got until you're the one having to do it all yourself."

Well, something like that anyway. Over the past few weeks, the holidays have kept us pretty busy here in the Sunshine household. Despite all the extra hubbing and bubbing, there are certain tasks that continue to be done regardless of how crazy life gets. Most of the time, those tasks fall to me. Which got me to thinking...

Who did this before I came along?

Me and Mom.  If I manage to do half as good a job
as she did, I'd count myself blessed.

My mother. Of course.

To start the new year off right, I'm going to send out a shout of thanks for some of the tasks she performed tirelessly. Although if I'm any indication, maybe "tirelessly" is not the word... maybe more like "exhaustedly but out of love" is more appropriate.

Oh - and just to be clear - this isn't the whole Hallmark, mushy, I love you because you're wonderful and taught me that going out in my pajamas is not okay, even if it is just Walmart. No, this list is for the things that are forgotten. Overlooked because I was either too young to notice, or because they are taken for granted every day. So here goes:

Mother, thank you from the bottom of my heart for:

1) Potty Training. Wow. I cannot imagine what my life would be if you had chosen to simply skip this step. Or not clean up any accidents I may have had. (Although I didn't, right? Have accidents? 'Cause I was the perfect child. Right? Mom??)

2) Wrapping all the Christmas gifts. Especially the funky shaped ones - since gift bags had yet to be invented. I still remember some pretty awesome squishy gifts wrapped rather creatively in paper. Kudos for the effort. There's nothing quite as fun as shredding up paper and ending with a toy.

3) Clipping my fingernails. And toenails. For YEARS. I actually remember you clipping my fingernails as a child. I just had no idea you'd done it every week since the day I was born...

"Hey mom! This sure is fun, isn't it?"

4) Pushing me on the swingset. Incessantly. I now realize that it was not quite as much fun for you as it was for me.

5) Washing my sheets. Magically, fresh linens would appear on my bed regularly throughout my childhood, with no one around to witness the incredible feat. Unlike the doctor's office, where they simply grab the tissue paper covering, roll a fresh sheet over the table and toss the used section, my sheets were made of fabric. You actually washed, dryed and replaced my sheets. Endlessly.

6) Brushing my hair. Oh, and not chopping it off when I got gum stuck in it. Twice. Also for letting it grow long even though I would end up with "rat's nests" at the nape of my neck every morning. I loved my long hair and pigtails, even if they were a little lopsided from time to time because of all my wiggling while you were attempting to wrangle that little elastic band over my tresses.

"I'm going to be a smashingly good cook, thanks
to DeeDee." (Good thing mommy has backup!)

7) Teaching me the difference between 2 T. and 2 t. of salt. And not being mad when I ruined our chicken dinner so badly even the dog wouldn't eat it.

8) Letting me ride under the grocery cart. Let's face it, there's a seriously limited window in which you're allowed to lay flat on your belly with your arms out like Superman as your mother shops for bananas. Letting me be that kid while ignoring the looks you got from strangers makes you Superwoman.

Aw, Grandma, I didn't wake mom up THAT much!

9) Letting me wake you up. At 3 am, 6 am, even 2 pm because some days I refused to nap. I don't remember doing it, but I know I did. I also know you gave me medicine, gave me water, and gave me a stern talking to sometimes. Thanks for always being there, even when you'd have rather used earplugs, turned off the monitor and pretended weekends were for sleeping in.

Making "Christmas Trees" with sugar cones and green icing.
The icing sometimes jumps straight to your mouth.
Can't be helped.

10) Believing memories were more important than messes. Remember how Kim and I used to love to play in the tub until our fingers turned to prunes, and all the water we splashed out of the tub magically dried up before we even had our pajamas on?

Remember all the toys you let us play with that would clean themselves up every night so we could rediscover them again the next day?

Remember when you would let us "help" you do things so they could get done faster and better than if you'd just done them on your own?

Remember teaching us how to make Christmas trees with bright green frosting? A family tradition that we now celebrate with our own kids...

Mark makes sure even Auntie gets in on the clean up
action. The icing bowl attacked him.
Couldn't be helped.

Thanks mom. For everything.

Another Week Gone...

Ah yes, another week gone. WHO AM I KIDDING? I haven't updated you for a month! But you're still here, so let's just carry on and pretend like everything is normal, 'kay? Speaking of normal, there was the usual:

Grace choking hugging Mark

Mark bailing before anyone else could "love" on him

"Mark, if you spill that... I won't tell anyone. Hee."

<>

Mark: "You think she knows we're the ones flinging
blueberry yogurt on the floor?"
Grace: "Just act natural. I've been doing this for years

and she hasn't caught on yet!"

We had LOTS of fun at birthday parties, dressing up for Halloween, and cooking in the kitchen. First we cooked dinner with a little help from DeeDee:

She made bacon wrapped scallops. No, I'm not kidding.
And I'm not sharing either.

Then we cooked, er, made dessert:

"We're pretty good at this stirring stuff!"

"We're pretty good at the tasting part too!"

Proof this child is related to me.
(In case it was needed.)

I'm fairly certain I'll be passing the meal making chores to the kids any day now... Don't worry about them eating to much sugar though. We're pretty tight with the candy around here:

"Aargh Matey! Hand over yer candy and we'll
spare ya the plank!"

AREN'T THEY ADORABLE?!?! (So I'm a little biased. Sue me.)

"Ya see this stash o' candy little lady? That's how
we pirates get it done."

"Hey! How did you get more than me?"
"Face it matey, I'm older and wiser...
I've done this before ya know!"

Our little pirates terrorized the neighborhood demanding loot from anyone who would open their doors. Grace had a ball, and Mark caught on pretty quickly. At one point, we chatted with the neighbors too long and I looked down to find Mark had stolen a Tootsie Pop from his container and was gnawing through the paper! Those pirates are tough cookies!

That weekend we hosted John's 5th birthday party (and Uncle Kevin's 40th, but he said not to tell anyone so shhhh...). We visited the local bounce house hangout and Grace had a ball:

After one slide with mommy...

Grace was ready to win the race!
(Happy Birthday Cousin John!)

She also rocked the house with her drum solo.

Mark had fun too, but he was a little distracted:

Decisions, decisions...

"They said there was gonna be cake. There's cake right??"

Afterward, we came home to the festivities and Mark made sure to keep us on track:

"The pizza was great, but there's still
gonna be cake right? Cake?"

I didn't actually get a photo of the cake eating mess, but rest assured - there was cake. Grace and Mark were very excited that Auntie Kim also left a birthday balloon for each of them. They are very fond of "boons", and fought over them ALL WEEK. Thanks Auntie Kim!!!

Once all the guests had said their goodbyes, we ate dinner and settled in to watch the new DVD release: Cars 2. Auntie Kim had taken Grace and the cousins to see it at the theater months ago. It was Grace's first (and so far, only) movie at the theater. Daddy was anxious to check it out for himself since Grace was the only one who'd seen it. Turns out, Grace is still the only one who's seen it...

Seriously. I couldn't make this stuff up.

Remember Tuesday's post about how kids do goofy things because, well, they're kids? Turns out it's not that hard to get pictures if you really try:

Mornin' Markie.
Here's proof this child is also related
to me. (In case it was needed.)

Banana, telescope, leftover spy
glass from her pirate days... you decide.

Yeah, daddy helped with this one. Mark kept them on
for two hours. And cried when I took them off.

I hope your week was filled with a new way of seeing things, and that you weren't overrun by pirates tryin' to steal your loot! We are hosting Thanksgiving at our house this year, and I'm looking forward to celebrating all we have to be thankful for as a family. Oh, and pie.

"See ya soon!"

Because My World Is Small

Once, I held a rather large place in the world.

Okay, not really. It seemed much larger than the place I hold now though. In my early twenties, I had a job where I'd fly all over the West Coast, helping to train staff at new offices from Washington to Arizona. In my thirties, I was part of a statewide organization that brought me into contact with staff from every county in California. Our job was to make recommendations that went straight to the politicians in Sacramento. If I fired up my imagination, I could envision myself sitting in a room with (then) Governor Schwarzenegger... ready to answer questions about the work I did.

Last week, I faced the high pressure decision making that comes with being a stay at home mom: Do I continue doing 55 mph in the slow lane behind a trucker, or dart around in the hopes of passing him before my exit comes up?

I chose the slow lane.

Realization dawned on me that I no longer had meetings to attend. No one would care if I was three minutes late to Target. The brand of graham crackers I choose will not be used as a benchmark for future generations of toddlers. My world has shrunk dramatically.

I enjoyed working at a "real" job. I got a lot of satisfaction from thinking that my ideas and knowledge helped others and made a difference in locations far from where I lived. My work could lighten another's load. My innovations kept other people from having to re-invent the wheel. I worked hard because there was always the chance that excellence in my work could affect people I would never even meet.

Not anymore though. Now my world is small.

Oddly, I found a quiet satisfaction in realizing I could drive as slowly as I wanted. There is a sense of freedom in planning your own day. The world could continue to rush on by. We were heading home to peanut butter and jelly and didn't need the stress of maxing out the speed limit.

I remember watching mini vans in the slow lane as I rushed to and from work. I recalled driving behind "that car" on my way back from lunch, hoping I wasn't late because the person in front of me had nowhere to go, and all day to get there. Sometimes I could actually feel my heart begin to race as I was forced to slow down and take on the pace of the car in front of me. Now I am "that car". I don't worry as much about the car behind me, because my world is small.

When you have young children, you learn very quickly that there is little point in rushing around, shaving seconds off tasks, minutes off trips, moments from conversations. Little feet only move so fast. Little hands are still mastering the task of putting each arm through the right holes in a shirt and strapping the slim velcro shoe closures in just the right spot. Little minds have to observe every detail around them as they walk, lest they trip and fall. Or worse - miss the small shiny object on the ground that everyone else seems not to notice. Little hearts have taught me that getting upset because we are behind a big truck in the slow lane is simply not worth the effort. Little hands, little feet and little hearts remind me daily that my world is small.

Honestly, I do sometimes miss the "big world" where my thoughts and ideas had the potential for far reaching impact. I loved the challenges that required sharp focus and logical thinking. (Something quite lacking in my small world now!) I loved seeing a daytimer filled with meetings, showing in black and white how important I was... to someone. Only now I'm not sure who that someone was.

Now, there are two someone's who feel that I am very important. They don't care how fast I drive, how many meetings I schedule, or whether my thoughts and ideas reach beyond our home. They only care that I am there, and loving them. Because for now... my world is small.

Another Week Gone...

I took very few pictures this week. Don't worry, I'm not ill or anything.

We did a lot of the usual; running errands, playing in the backyard, even went out of town to visit some friends yesterday. Thinking about my post today, I decided to pull out the camera this morning so the Grands wouldn't go into withdrawal for lack of pictures. But a funny thing happened on the way to the backyard...

Today I didn't take pictures for the Grands, or for my readers, or even for my children (seeing as how this has become their virtual baby books). Today I took pictures for me. Actually, for the future me.

Outside it was seventy two degrees with a light breeze. The sky was a beautiful blue, with wispy clouds that made you nostalgic for a park, a blanket, and time to just reflect. I found myself reflecting on my children as they played on the swings, dug in the dirt (naturally), and shared (or stole, depending on where you were standing) the tricycle. I listened as Grace let her imagination spill out of her mouth, telling Mark about her cooking. She rushed to make pancakes as Mark happily brought dirt to the table for her to cook with.

The weather and innocence of play combined to make me feel nostalgic for what was playing out right before my eyes. I was watching Grace and Mark through the eyes of the future - knowing that mornings like this would be what I would miss.

For my future self, to help you remember:

When Mark was small enough to sit on your belly
and squeal with delight as you rocked him back and forth...

When Grace would literally jump on your back
in the hopes of a horsie ride...

When she brought to your attention the
smallest things that you would pass by...

When she concentrated so hard on making
the perfect mud pancakes...

When she showed such pride in herself for what
she had made (despite any fashion faux paus
her mother committed with her clothing)...

When, despite the joy it would bring to your kids,  you decided
to save the life of a snail by keeping its hiding place a secret...

Knowing the kids would make other discoveries, like
the worm in the grass only a toddler would see...

Yes, they will grow up. But somehow, they just keep
getting better.

And on another day, when the sky is blue and
the clouds beg for reflection, you will
have your memories.

Awwwww.... quit yer snifflin'. Next week they'll be throwing rocks into the toilets, lauching blueberry yogurt onto the windows and eating the dirt pancakes. Trust me.

Since today was actually a pleasure, and I'm in a pretty good (albeit nostalgic) mood, I thought I'd share yet another first. The kids got haircuts. Grace is a pro, and had no problems in the chair:

"Yes, as a matter of fact I AM the star of the Sunshine blog!"

A little pampering to make sure I look fabulous for the camera...

Mark, on the other hand, was a bit less enthusiastic, as this was his first cut...

"I was saving that hair!"

"C'mon people! It took me 16 months just to grow
the hair I've got!!"

Okay, time to pull out the big guns. I don't think there is a man on the planet who cannot be sated with just a small bit of television or video games. My son is proof:

"Ooooohhh! Look! An iPhone! Go ahead
lady, do whatever you want."

Mark is actually watching himself
through the phone's camera.
(Apparently he finds himself as entertaining as we do!)

I hope your week didn't completely pass you by. Take some time to just sit back and watch your loved ones. Young or old, God has really created some amazing people! Have fun this week and if you can't find anyone around worth watching, you can always use the camera on your phone to watch yourself. Mark swears it's pretty enteraining.