Trying to keep up...

The other day, I had to break up an argument between Gwen and Tula.  Tula was in tears.  I had to turn down the blaring Taylor Swift CD in order to hear what the problem was.  As it turned out, Tula was pissed because Gwen had turned the music down.  And by "down" I mean it went from 'Rock Concert-ear plugs required' to 'What did you say? I couldn't hear you over this obscenely loud music'.

The girl is all about the "Dance Party" right now.  She had her pal Eamon over for a playdate a few weeks back.  He was playing cars on the floor and she was trying her hardest to distract him into dancing with her.  "Hey Eamon, check out my dance moves.  Hey Eamon, can you do this one?"  And Eamon tried to distract her right back with the cars, "Tula, this one's awesome." No luck.  She just kept dancing.  Someday we will remind him that he wouldn't dance with her...

Yesterday, we were in the car in the pouring rain, rocking out to some Aretha Franklin when she shouted from her carseat "I love snow cones! Especially the cherry ones!"  These are the parenting moments that no one tells you about... How exactly does one respond on a rainy 40 degree day to a blanket statement about the love of snow cones?  What's better is that she didn't even want a response.  I responded with "Oh, yeah?" and she was happily onto the next thought.
Today, she came home from school with her President's Day pre-school project.  "If I was President, I would... Have water balloons."  Of course she would.  Or rather, of course she will.

Gross

Most of the time kids are wonderful.  They're silly and cute and sometimes completely inappropriate.  And really really fun...  The house was all a buzz when I got home from work on my birthday.  I was greeted at the door by Gwen.  Showing me, with palpable excitement that she could push her tooth completely perpendicular to her gums.  GROSS!  Seriously, disgusting.  She waited for me to get home from work so that she could have me in the audience when she pulled out her very first tooth.  Gross.  Even though I was cringing and making faces, I was excited for her.  It really is a big deal.  What a big kid.  And lucky for her, the tooth fairy didn't mind her outburst from a few weeks ago...

Nostalgia

Nostalgia.  Is it odd to long to know a history that isn't your own?  To wonder about a life that led to your own but only indirectly impacted this life?  My grandfather died before my birth and I've always felt cheated by it.  I've been acutely aware all of my life, that I was the only grandchild that he never met.  I form a memory of him through stories and memories others have lent me, but I still wonder what he sounded like... what he would have told me, only me.

Perhaps I shouldn't be surprised that the passing of a great woman, a woman my grandfather held in the highest regards, has rattled me a bit.  I've read letters that my mother has of their correspondence during WWII.  She was his sister-in-law, and apparently she was wonderful.  I know little more of her than the couple times I met her in person, and the warm letters she would send me every year after her receipt of our christmas card.  My cousin found this article in the local newspaper that she wrote a couple years ago about her war time contribution.  Reading it makes me proud.  What an amazing and painful time to live through.  What amazing things she watched happen to and around the world.

Not surprisingly, her death makes me reflect on my own life.  What would an article about my "war time contribution" look like?  Does any correspondence with my brother-in-law during his time in the desert even still exist?  In this time of instant communication, will anything tangible even exist to prove history? My history?

All the same, it is with a heavy heart that I bid Aunt Barb adieu.  And congratulations on a life well lived.