Saturday, November 28, 2015

Oh Christmas tree... Oh Christmas tree.


Each strand of light was tightly wound around the tree. Each garland piece was delicately placed on branches. And, each ornament was strategically placed on every end, keeping the favorite ones in the front. Then after the masterpiece was concluded by two small children, who wanted to put the Christmas tree up over a month ago, we set up the village... And my son and daughter did a beautiful job with that too. My daughter must have laid out several different patterns of placement before she finalized the last one. Then one by one, both children eagerly unwrapped each tree, accessory, and glass people from years past newspaper. So much love and heart goes into decorating the tree and village. Each piece has a memory and a story. And I cannot wait to tell it, every year. My Christmas tree is the same one my grandparents used in their house in the 1960s. The ornaments are from when I was a child and the village was my parents, with the people and accessories from both my grandparents and parents...

Before children, I still decorated the same way as today. I have always enjoyed decorating the house like the Griswolds, both inside and out. And, there is something magical about staring down into a Christmas village. But, now with my children older, I absolutely adore decorating even more. To me, there isn't a wrong way to decorate and I enjoy watching both children randomly place ornaments on the tree and place the glass people in spots they think needed them. It's a completely different perspective from me and I embrace it. Even if the barn is right next to the houses, instead of off by itself and 5 ornaments share a branch. Christmas is completely for the children and I love that my children have a colorful house fully decorated for the season.

Thursday, November 26, 2015

A thankful Thanksgiving


The holiday table was set and the smell of turkey permeated in the background. Christmas music was softly playing on an old fashioned radio that was nestled into the corner of the kitchen counter. My parents were hovered over the stove, completing the finishing touches on all the dinner sides. I pushed my way through to make the homemade gravy, while both of my children rode their big wheels around my parent's home, only stopping to deliver mail to all of us workers in the kitchen. My husband set up shop in front of the television, watching football games and snuggled himself under the heavy blankets. My children would drop mail on his belly as the looped around the home, screeching the tires around the corners. Their voices becoming louder with their happiness increasing. 

We sat down to a full table of wonderful home cooked food and enjoyed great conversations with loved ones and listened to Thanksgiving stories from my daughter. My son also chimed in with random thoughts that he added to her stories. We clanked glasses as my children said "cheers" a few dozen times and we passed around food to fill our plates. We all had individual conversations going on at the same time and our volume gradually increased as we attempted to talk over each other.  

While sitting around a beautifully decorated table full with some of the most important people in my life, I smiled, as I was overcome with happiness. I realized how big my children had become each year and how adult-like they now appear. They contributed to the conversation, instead of just being asked about. Maturity and growth happened among everyone this year. My parent's just celebrated being together for 50 years, my brother just turned 36 years old, and my german shepherd turned 9 years old. 

These moments are the ones that keep me thankful and grateful. Thankful for the love that is in my life and grateful for the wonderful people who complete it. I am beyond grateful and thankful for the opportunity to watch my children change and grow, right before my very eyes. And the immense love I receive from them daily.

From my family to yours... Happy Thanksgiving!

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Mid Week Revelation: Not a morning person

There is nothing in this world more precious, than waking up to overly happy children who are both more than eager to start the day... 
Unless it's 5:30 am.

Sunday, November 22, 2015

A mommy and her daughter


I sat with my back firmly against the bench, as I placed my feet into my skates. My daughter danced like a ballerina in front of me, as she twirled on her skates, eagerly waiting for me to snap my last strap. I stood a little uneasy for my first time in years. I looked more like a baby calf standing for the first time. The smell of stagnant air and feet lingered in my nose and the decor was still set in the late 1970s. My daughter reached for my hand and helped me to my feet. Then assisted me to the rink. It only took a few laps to get my sea legs back, but when I did, I was able to keep up with my little derby girl. We lapped the concession stand too many times to count. We sang and laughed, and even danced a little. We also did our best doing the hokey pokey and we stayed on our feet the entire time. At least at this age, nothing I do is embarrassing, even when I tried skating on one leg, while doing a silly dance... At first, I thought I'd regret pulling out my old roller blades from the early 1990s, but, after an afternoon with my little girl, I'm so grateful to have found them.

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

A girl and her skates


As soon as my daughter's eyes open to the light of day, she places her two tiny feet into these skates. She's sometimes half awake and still wearing her nightgown, from only sleeping a few minutes ago. Her hair is usually wild and unruly or knotted in a loose ponytail. She rolls across the floor on repeat, while her wheels rumble a different sound when she glides from carpet to hardwoods.

When we enter our home from kindergarten, she quickly removes her school shoes and places them nicely by the backdoor, then dons her favorite skates. She picks up right where she left off from the morning ride.

She sings songs as she circles the inside of our home, tells stories, and even drags her fingers across the breakfast nook wall to tap her sight words that are taped in order.

This roller skating time has become our special time. I listen as she tells me all about her kindergarten stories and her experiences with friends, while she passes me making dinner in the kitchen. She stops to hang onto the refrigerator door to tell me an exciting part, then quickly skates off into the other rooms before circling back to tell me more.

A girl and her skates. Not only practicing to become better, but creating memories that will last a lifetime.


**Remember, if you enjoy reading my stories, then please continue to vote for me. To vote, go to my blog's main page at www.jackyhappydays.blogspot.com and click the Top Mommy Blog's icon in the right side column (you may have to scroll down a bit). Once that icon is clicked, it'll redirect you to their page and then,  that is all you need to do, the vote will be registered. More votes towards my blog, equals more traffic for my blog -And I would greatly appreciate that. Thank you all for your continued support.

Sunday, November 15, 2015

A reading moment in time


I could remember my daughter sitting on the floor with her little legs crossed and her short blonde hair wisped in front of her eyes. She would thumb through all her books, page by page, pretending to read every one until the pile towered above her little body. She spoke with excitement and a detailed imagination. She even acted out certain parts and made sure to emphasize each exclamation point. I could remember standing in her doorway, as she was too captivated by her books to even notice me there, and all I wanted was for this single moment of time to carry out a thousand times more. To stay forever frozen, when she was so very little and memorized by the smallest of details of each book. A time when she was content with sitting among a sea of books for hours on end. 

Today, she's no longer that little girl sitting by herself and pretending to read. She's now a big girl, with much longer and darker hair. She talks at an alarming rate and is questioning every part of life's existence. She walks around with her trusty notebook and a sharpened pencil, trying her hardest to write what she sees. Now when she's sitting among a sea of books, I listen while she patiently sounds out every word, letter by letter, until she is able to put the sounds together to read the sentence. I pause whatever I'm doing, to participate with her incredible amount of excitement she displays, after reading just one sentence. 

And even on some days, I'll watch her sitting with her little brother tightly against her shoulder and him admiringly hanging onto her every word. He watches as her finger points under each word and follows along to her story. He cheers for her when she reads the sentences correctly, but he would still cheer for her, even if she didn't.

That's the hardest part with growing up, sometimes I still long for that little girl and all those special moments she possessed. But on the other hand, I love watching my daughter share her passions with her brother and all the new moments that are unfolding in front of my eyes. And I'm sure in another few years, I'll be looking back at this time and longing for this moment right now. Thinking back to the days when my daughter was first learning to read and my son eagerly supported her process. Then I'll be begging for a glimpse to when they were both this little, because one thing motherhood has taught me is, every moment is only temporary.

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Veterans Day


Happy Veterans Day to all the men and women who have put their lives on the line to serve and protect us. I couldn't even begin to imagine the feeling of leaving your family behind, to be on foreign soil and doing things that wouldn't be the standard back home.

My poppy was a child of the 20s and a teen of the 30s. He never graduated high school because he worked in the coal mines to help bring money home for his family. He quickly enrolled in the military, as the majority did during that era. They say the men of WWII were from a different mold and I'm sure they were. As my poppy lived in a fox hole, walked the front lines, and stormed Omaha beach in Normandy. As a child, I rarely heard him speak of the war. But when he did, he constantly spoke of the fear he had when he ran across that sand, his boots sinking into the earth as bullets whizzed by his head. He often questioned why he made it to safety, when so many others did not.

My dad was drafted at 18 years old into Vietnam. He was a child of the 50s and a teen of the 60s. He proudly went to war to serve, as so many of his fellow brothers had done before him. He smiled as he waved goodbye to his loved ones, setting off to an adventure of the unknown. The stories I've heard from my dad, would make the biggest, baddest, man cry.

The one thing both my poppy and my dad had were scars, not the visual scars you can see on their bodies, however, I'm sure they have them too. But, scars on their souls. Those smiling boys left the states as naive, trusting people, only to return as someone else.

Sadly, that's the problem with War... You never come back the same. Every man and woman who ever interacted in some form of combat will always be changed forever.

With that, I'll always appreciate every soldier (past and present) and their eternal sacrifice to keep us safe.

Happy Veterans Day! This day is for you!

Tuesday, November 10, 2015

When I walked these streets


I must have walked this street a dozen times with my son. Trailing behind him as he rode up and down the slanted incline. I could remember doing the same thing for my daughter. Spending hours on this street, just the two of us, walking up and down as she was enthralled by the simplest things. Talking about all of life's marvelous possessions and throwing in a few laughter moments. Even venturing outdoors on clear winter days when I was 8 months pregnant because, both of us were begging for fresh air. Today, my son squealed his way down the street, stopping to exam fallen pine cones, the same way his sister once did. We parked the quad off the road to wander through some nearby woods, gathering sticks and acorns to paint, again, just as his sister and I did. Anymore, my daughter isn't interested in driving a power wheel toy up and down a street. So, instead she walks by my side, with her hand in mine, as we both follow behind him. She helps me hold the loose pine cones and sticks that he saves and even occasionally chases him, just to get him to laugh. In that moment I realize, time doesn't seem to pass unless you have something to compare it to. Seeing my daughter walk by my side instead of riding her once beloved quad and now that image is being replaced by my son, is hard to process. Sometimes, I still feel like I'm walking those same streets with my 2 year old daughter and lugging my big ole pregnant belly around.

Saturday, November 7, 2015

Tag, you're it!


The words, "I bet you can't catch me!" echoed through the warm fall air, as both my son and daughter played tag while running back to the house. Their little feet scampered through the dried crunchy leaves, moving as quickly as they could. They ran with smiles on their faces and the wind blowing through their hair. When they reached the end of the grass, my daughter stopped short and reached her hand backwards towards her brother, waiting for their hands to intertwine. Then once clasped, they crossed the finish line together.

Thursday, November 5, 2015

Treasures in the woods


Hand in hand, all our fingers tightly intertwined while our shoes crunched the earth below, we walked further into the depths of our surrounding woods. Taking adventures and searching for lost treasures. My daughter balanced her body as she tip toed across a fallen log. My son searched through down debris to find acorns and perfectly shaped pine cones. We carried our bodies through the crisp air and talked about the wondrous beauty that filled our eyes. We caught a glimpse of a buck eating some red berries off the tallest bush and squirrels rapidly scrounging nuts for their late evening dinner. We watched our feet disappear beneath the dried leaves, before we stumbled upon a hidden wishing well in the middle of the woods. This dilapidated well must have been the main water source for an old country house, once upon a time. We were probably standing over a structured foundation that once contained many memories from friends and families. We sat on a nearby log and imagined what the house may have looked liked and what the people may have done daily. We discussed for a while, sharing our opinions from what our imaginations created, before the cold got the better of us, and we sauntered our way back out of the woods... Waiting to see where another adventure will carry us...

Tuesday, November 3, 2015

Halloween only comes but once a year

The sun was just beginning to dip below the earth, the warm air quickly turned cool, and the sounds of children laughing and running through the fallen leaves that lay under their feet echoed throughout the town. The dimly lit porch lights each slowly turned on, inviting everyone to their home. The sky was almost dark as night and the street lights shimmered a bright glow, lighting the way for all the fellow trick or treaters. Children anxiously waited, dressed head to toe in their favorite costumes. Some pretended to hide around trees, eagerly waiting to scare their friends. Others paced back and forth next to their parents, waiting for the "ok" to get started.

My daughter twirled her plastic pumpkin around in her hand, dressed in her favorite Snow White costume, with many under layers donned, to prevent her from being cold. My son spun around in circles, wearing his favorite Robin costume, occasionally pretending to fly off to help Batman -as they both anticipate how much fun the evening will bring.

The majority of the homes were finally lit, as they sprung out of the car, my daughter running ahead, then stopping to yell back to her brother, "hurry up." His little legs trying their best to keep up. They ran quickly up to the first house, rung the doorbell, then said, "trick or treat!" in unison... They received their candy, said thank you, then ran back to us all in the blink of an eye.

Both bouncing around in front of us as they talked over each other saying, "let's get going to the next house!"

Nana, Poppy (my parent's), my husband's sister and her two older children, joined us this year for the Halloween festivities. We set out to trick or treat for 6:00 pm, then ended the evening after 8:00 pm. With tired feet and wired bodies, we trudged along, trying our hardest to keep up with the excited children. 

The evening went as all Halloween evenings go, knocking on more than the average amount of doors, obtaining more than your average amount of candy, and staying up waaay past your bedtime. 

The grown ups walked together, staying at the edge of each driveway. My parent's trailed in the car, following us house to house. I walked to the door with all four of the children, happily standing in the cold, and helping my son navigate the uneven sidewalks -with the help of the older cousins. My daughter didn't need any assistance, as she is an old pro at trick or treating. The older children and I laughed about silly things, all the cousins were racing each other through the yards, and my daughter tried her hardest to scare her cousins. This was the first Halloween where my children were able to enjoy trick or treating with other people, besides us. Their cousins were incredibly great with them, patiently walking right by their sides and not once complaining with the amount of walking my daughter expected them to do.

With our bags heavy and the streets growing dark, we packed up for the evening. The crowds of children were dwindling down, with occasionally crossing paths with another costume child. The air grew colder and my children grew tired. The night was becoming later. We said our goodbyes, before walking up to that last house, knowing Halloween was over for the year. The car ride home was quiet, as my children's eyes grew heavy, only opening to acknowledge the amount of fun Halloween was this year.

Once home, they were carried into bed, their eyes now tightly closed shut, not even opening to see the amount of candy they received. That would have to wait until tomorrow. Because tomorrow, all the candy that is spilling over the top of their plastic pumpkins will be consumed with a tall glass of chocolate milk for breakfast. 

Because Halloween only comes but once a year.



Sunday, November 1, 2015

An impromptu weekend away

My Thursday evening was a typical scenario. I made dinner, we ate, then I was rushing around trying to clean, bathe the children, then get them ready for bed (it's amazing how sometimes the day could move so slowly, then all of the sudden, it becomes a race against the clock for bedtime). My phone rang, which sparked my son to seek me out and say, "mommy! The phone is ringing... It's ringing... Can you hear it mommy?" As if he was the only one granted with this ability. I raced to the phone with my hands full of crayons and markers and I eventually answered it on the last ring (I currently live in the 80s where I have a wall landline because my son wanted to test the waterproof system of our portable phone - he learned, they're not waterproof).

My parent's had called to ask us to join them on an impromptu family weekend away at a cabin, in a family-owned amusement park.

We quickly obliged.

Obviously, bedtime was one of the hardest accomplished goals that had been achieved in a long time. My daughter felt like a rebel as she was missing her first school day and my son was beyond eager to ride his favorite, beloved pedal cars.

Morning came quicker than I expected. We had our packed bags, our weekend essentials, and my two bouncing around children ready and waiting at the door. My parent's car pulling into the driveway sparked the same reaction that Santa did last year, when he walked through our door. 

The drive wasn't long, as we eagerly planned out our park adventures. Each child shouting what they wanted to ride first and what they couldn't wait to do. We never rented a cabin in the park before, so we weren't even quite sure what to expect. We do know however, that we're outdoorsy people and a cabin in the woods for the weekend was something we all were very excited for. 

Finding the registration building was simple, however, finding our cabin was like finding a needle in a haystack. There were cabins and tents and motor homes galore. Their Halloween festivities attracts a lot of visitors to the park yearly, we just weren't prepared for how many. After several wrong turns, and an incident of attempting to unlock a cabin that wasn't ours, we finally found our cabin.



What a lovely cabin it was...

My children ran freely through the grass, explored new areas, and pretended with their toys, as my parents, my husband, and I unloaded our belongings. They claimed their beds, climbed up and down the ladders to the two bunk beds and were completely fascinated by all the small, cubby areas, this cabin offered. There was even a little loft that was nestled high above the tallest bunk. We all quickly realized, this weekend was going to be magical.

Our day time hours were spent at our cabin, exploring the grounds, building fires, and making friends with nearby campers. We conversed around our table while eating lunch and told stories about past memories. We laughed around the picnic table and climbed on rocks. We even took an early walk into the unopened park, where we explored, pretended, and imagined around the motionless rides. We saw the spooky Halloween decorations and said hello to the random workers. My children felt like they owned the place, as we were the only non employees there. We took advantage of every available free moment. Our evenings were at the park, riding rides until we were sick and eating typical park food. My children couldn't get enough, and truth is, I think we all were the same.

The warm sunny days were quickly replaced with cool, crisp, evening fall temperatures. Everyone was bundled up tight with hats and gloves and thankfully, we were able to ride everything at least once. Some rides we even rode 6-7 times. Two rides in particular that were the focal point for my daughter and her poppy were the scrambler and the adult himalaya. We made our money with those two rides and I don't think I have ever seen my daughter as happy as she was upon exited those two rides. The rest of us sat on nearby benches as we watched my daughter and her poppy fly around the ride, singing, laughing, and squealing with immense joy. Even if those were the only two rides my daughter rode the whole day, as long as it was with her poppy, she would have been completely content. 

My son also rode more rides than ever before. My daughter graduated from riding the kiddie rides to riding the adult ones, but will entertain her brother by joining him on the smaller ones. Once on the rides, she lifted her arms up in the air and shrieked as she approached every turn, trying to add more excitement. But, when my son attempted to do the same, then would quickly drop his hands to hold on. My daughter eventually saw him doing that, then lifted his arms high in the air and held tightly onto him, so he could be fearless and go hands free around the turns, just like his sister.

He was proud.

After the third day, we were adventured out, having done above and beyond what we set out to do. We had more enjoyment from those few days than ever before at that park. The first evening walk back to the campground ended with my husband carrying my sleeping daughter and myself carrying my sleeping son. The second night, both children were still very much awake, but requiring nana and poppy's hands to be intertwined in theirs. 

On both nights, while both kids softly snored away in their bunks, the adults sat around our very small table, in our very small cabin, and drank tea and indulged in cupcakes. Even with the smallest of conversations, the time spent together was irreplaceable. 

Today, we eagerly wait until we can book an entire full week during the summer to enjoy another family trip, but until then, I have the wonderful memories that were created from a simple, impromptu long weekend. The beautiful colors of the rides against the fall scenery, the smell of funnel cakes and hot apple cider, and sight of ear to ear smiles on both of my children's faces the entire weekend. The moments they spent on the rides with us, clinging so tightly when they were scared of a sharp turn, and even the occasional meltdowns they had. Seeing the immense joy my daughter experienced the first time she rode a new ride and my son's joy getting to ride his favorite cars, trucks, and planes.

Trips with children can be exhausting, but seeing all the wondrous magic a single weekend away with family creates is worth its weight in gold. I'll take the sporadic meltdowns, the out of nowhere naps, and the constant "go" just to have the opportunity to experience everything with them. I adore every second my children want me to ride the rides with them and have me sit in the exact seat as them, with my arm outstretched around their little bodies. These are the moments that don't need clarity. These are the moments where I feel completely at home. I feel perfect in my skin. The moments where my family is all together and enjoying life, as simple as it is.   








***Remember, if you enjoy reading my stories, please vote for my blog! To do so, go to my blog's main page (www.jackyhappydays.blogspot.com) and click the Top Mommy Blog icon in the right side column. Once clicked, it will redirect you to their main page, that is all you need to do. Each vote raises my ranks and helps promote The Happy Days -Thank you!