Walking Like a Human

One day two sisters were playing together as the grandmother watched.  The eldest, Laylahni, a very observant four-year old, said to her grandmother,"Kee Kee is walking like a human," as she watched her one-year old sister walk across the grass. The grandmother tried very hard not to laugh. Then answered kindly, "Honey, Kaleigha is a human."  The four-year old thought for a moment and looked at her sister again. "Oh, she is a baby human." 

Fairy Princess Halo

I have a little niece who wants to be a princess.  She is always asking me to buy her a princess dress or a dress that a Disney cartoon character is wearing in a film.  The other day I was looking on line to learn how to make a floral headdress and ran across a video for a fairy princess halo.  The directions were simple. Last night, I made the fairy princess halo and it turned out very nicely. 

I went to Walmart to buy the cable ties, they are more expensive in the smaller hardware stores. Also, I used 5 different pastel colored ribbon to give it lots of color. My niece loved this. If there is a little girl you know that longs to be a princess then watch the video below and make her feel very special.  

Memories of Christmas

When the nights are long and the air is cold a little jingle begins to play in the air. The snow begins to fly and we snuggle inside our homes for warmth.  It is then that my mind goes back in time to when life was innocent and the best time of year was Christmas.  There was a tree in the corner with gifts all around and the lights twinkled as they nestled in the branches.  The anticipation of gifts is all that a child thinks about, especially me.   

 

My parents were not big on celebrations and they definitely didn’t get excited like my brother, sister, and I did.  We always opened our gifts after supper on Christmas Eve and on Christmas day we had a big dinner.  The dinners were not the normal ham or whatever is supposed to be traditional for the holiday.  We would have BBQ ribs with whatever sounded good to Mom that day.  The rest of the holiday we lounged around and enjoyed having the day off. 

When my brother and I were about three feet tall, nothing really got past us.  If something was hidden in a low place we were definitely going to find it.  In the mid 60’s, when fire engine pedal cars were all the rage, we “found” our Christmas present in a hall closet.   For some reason Mom thought that if she buried the pedal car beneath some blankets we would not find it.  One day when my parents were still in bed, my brother and I decided to uncover the pedal car and take it for a spin.  We rode in it up and down the hallway.  Mom heard all of the noise and got up to find out what was going on.  “Hey Mom, look at what we found”, I said. She was not amused.  I really don’t remember what happened after that. More than likely she made us put it back in the closet until Christmas.

 

Observing all of those presents piled high all around the tree was so thrilling when I was a girl.  I remember that there was one particular present that I just had to know what it was.  Each night while no one was looking, I would pick up the package, shake it, and then put it back down.  Eventually, my fingers gently made their way to the taped edge.  Maybe the tape will give way without mom noticing that I have been picking at it.  The tape never budged and the more I toyed with it the worse it looked. Curiosity got the best of me and I poked a hole in the paper.  I brought the package up close to my eye and I still couldn’t figure out what the present was.  So, I buried it in the back and decided to wait until Christmas to see what it was; Besides Mom would be really mad if she saw the hole in the pretty paper. 

Dad bought Mom a food processor in the early 80’s, I was a 20 something year old then.  When Mom opened the box she was thrilled.  Dad and I then started pushing buttons while the machine was on.  Then it stopped running.  Dad and I laughed, but Mom cried.  He took it back to the store the next day to get Mom a new one.  The funny thing is I don’t remember her using it very much after that.  But I was in my 20’s then and probably didn’t pay attention to what she did.

I know that Christmas isn’t all about the giving and getting of presents.  I decided to bake a birthday cake for Jesus.   It was a white two layer cake with chocolate frosting. Jesus had to like this cake.  Who doesn’t like chocolate frosting? I asked my family to gather around the table and we sang happy birthday and blew out the candles.  Then we ate the cake for Jesus and told him how good it was.  When my nieces were small we carried on the tradition of baking a birthday cake at Christmas.  Tiffany and Heather still talk about it.

 

 

The year my father passed away we were so poor that we wouldn’t be able to give any gifts. My mother was collecting widow’s benefits and I was only making $3.50 an hour working at the 350 Shop on Broadway.  My church decided to adopt us as their “Christmas family”.  Each of us received a gift plus my family was given a food box.  My present was a turquoise sweater, which I kept for a very long time. I was very thankful for what the church did for us.   I felt as though people still cared for us during our time of loss. 

 

My oldest niece, Tiffany, wanted what she called a “Garbage Patch Doll”.  Scott’s grocery had a contest to be able to win one.  I wrote my mother’s name down and put the entry blank in the box.  I prayed and prayed to win that doll for my niece.  We wouldn’t be able to afford to buy her one for Christmas.  A few days later my mother received a call from the store saying that she had won.  Thank you God!  This was a Christmas miracle. 

Many Christmases have come and gone since then.  Gifts have been given.  Elaborate dinners have been eaten.  But the best part is when we get together and reminisce about “The good ole’ days”.   The pictures come out and the stories are told all over again.  To me, this is what Christmas is all about.  Family is what we are put on this earth for, to love and be loved, there is nothing more than valuable than this.

Sticks and stones may break my bones....but words do hurt.

Every Thursday I go to a memoirs writing class.  Each of us have a story within us.  Sometimes the stories are happy or sometimes they are sad.  I have been writing about my recent marriage and other memories.  Sometimes we just need to let it all out, whether we write in a journal, as a story, or face to face with a friend or loved one. It is then we can start to finally heal.

I am the youngest person in the class.  Most of my classmates are 20 or more years my senior, and yet, I feel very comfortable amongst them. Any one of the men and women could be my mother or father. It is amazing to me how things that were either said or done to us can leave a lasting mark on our lives, even if it happened 60 years before. The memory of it continues to linger in the back of our minds. When the memory comes back to the surface there is rage and many times tears.

I sat next to a woman yesterday who had such a traumatic experience in Catholic school by a nun that she still finds it hard to talk about.  Her 5th grade teacher was a nun and made her life miserable.  From the time she arrived in the class until the end of the year the girl's life was one traumatic event after another.  The nun would shame the girl into thinking that she was worthless and the children whose father's made more money was better than she was and it was best that she not communicate with them. Those words spoken to her stuck in her mind all of these years.  Tears started flowing before my classmate began reading her story. I wanted so badly to hold her in my arms and comfort her. Often we hear stories about adults traumatizing children and literally making their lives hell.  These poor innocent souls are placed in the care of adults who can either make or break our spirit.  Her spirit is still broken.  No child deserves to be mistreated.  All they want is love and acceptance, and maybe some candy too. 

Do you have any memories that bring you pain?  I know that I do.

A day at the zoo

I have been taking pictures galore this past week.  Since I have gotten my new zoom lens, the pictures have been turning out very well.  I spent four hours with my brother and his family at the zoo.  Photographing a two year old is, well, very challenging. Try holding a toddler still for one second and to photograph to boot tried my nerves and my photography skills.

 

There were lions.

 

an ostrich

and there were monkeys

My brother asked his daughter what a monkey says, she said "oo oo oo", the look on my brothers face...priceless.

A Tale about a Lady and Three Little Girls

 

As I was making my way home from my walk last night, three little girls started talking to me. I wanted to try out my new camera lens by taking some pictures of a vine growing on the side of a house in my neighborhood . I stopped to take a picture of some flowers in front of their house.  A little girl with very short hair was playing outside in a well worn party dress and bare feet. 

 

 

 When she saw me she ran over to show me a blue glass stone that she found. Immediately, I noticed her torn dress and short hair.  I assumed that she was sick. My heart went out to her.

 

 

The three girls showed me the beautiful sea shells that they found. I talked to them a little bit and then asked to take their pictures. I took a couple of shots and then told them goodbye as I turned towards home. 

 

 

 The little girl with the torn dress ran after me shouting, "Lady, she said, here this is for you for taking our picture." I looked down and in her tiny hand was a crumpled dollar bill. Tears came to my eyes. "No sweety, keep your money, I just wanted to take your picture." I said, trying hard to compose myself. I don't know their story, but I was touched with the little girl's generosity. 

Watch what you say in the Bingo Hall

Calling out "BINGO" when you don't have one can cause problems if you are at a bingo hall. Those folks really take their bingo seriously. Austin Whaley of Covington, Kentucky was banned from saying  the word "bingo" for six months.  I guess he and several other teenagers thought it was funny. The bingo players were not amused. 

A Tale about My Dancerina Doll

I had a Dancerina doll when I was about 9 years old.  I loved to caress her thick blonde hair that was neatly pulled back into a pony tail. Her arms moved up, down, sideways and she was always on point. Inside the crown that was placed upon her head was a knob that you could pull up or push down. When the knob was pulled up, Dancerina would twirl around and around.  I spent hours playing with her. She was my favorite toy.

My sister, who is eight years younger than I am, had pneumonia. Her sickness started out as croup and got steadily worse. She was so sick my parents decided to take her to the hospital. Once the doctors examined my little sister it was decided that she be admitted to the hospital for a few days. An oxygen tent covered her little bed. My mother told me that my sister needed a toy to play with and gave my doll to her.  I was deeply hurt that my mother took it away from me.  I tried to be a big girl. After all, my sister was sick.  When my sister came home, the doll was returned to me. Dancerina's hair was matted and she no longer twirled around. It was ruined. I cried. I no longer wanted the doll and gave it back to my sister. I think that my mother was wrong by taking the doll away from me. Maybe that is why I hoard things today.  What do you think?

There's nothing like children and a good belly laugh

We have been working so much lately that it has been hard trying to keep up with everything.  On top of that, when it is gloomy out it affects my mood.   I feel just as blah as the weather is outside.  This week, I was in a training class for work.  The instructor showed us a short video of children as the speakers but grownups are doing the acting.  They are called Kid Snippets.  This one that I am going to share is two kids trying to understand subtraction.  I am terrible in math, so this spoke to me very clearly.  I laughed so hard that I cried. 

A new video comes out on YouTube every Monday.  I watched a lot of these and they are so funny.  Tell me what you think.

Do you remember when?

Do you remember when the only thing

that you wanted to do was play?

Or climbing a tree was a great adventure?

We need to play just a bit more, do you think?