You and Me

Dear Annessa,

We just had one of the best days! I am so mad that I didn't take pictures of it (I was afraid my camera would get ruined by the sand) so I decided to document it by writing it down.

I took you to Winneconne - but not just to Mummie's house. I showed you the Winneconne I knew as a girl. We went to Marble park and had a picnic while we waited for the beach to open. You had no interest in the hot dog, yogurt, and grapes I packed. you were just so happy to play on the play ground toys (I think you are missing your swing set while we're at the apartment).

Then, we went into the beach, and to my surprise, NOTHING has changed. They still rotate the lifeguards the same way, the workers still color a name tag for their baskets in the break room, and they still hand-write out the numbers and the names for the pass list. But ANYWAY, about us....We spent the afternoon crawling in the water on our tummies, building a little city in the sand (you built a church and I built a school), jumping off the dock, me swinging you around in the water, and eating Popsicles on our towel while we watched kids swim. It was absolutely perfect.

Then, to top it all off, we ended the day with ice cream at The Well (my very first place of employment...). We sat at the picnic table closest to the road and watched the cars drive by.

In all my years sitting at the life guard stand, I always watched the moms and their kids. Today, I was one of those moms, and you, my precious you, were my kid.

I love you,
Mom

Joy

(An oldie but goodie)

Little things that gave me joy today....

• smelling the star-gazer lilies that Rich got me when I walked in the door after a long day
  
• big purses that I can stick everything in from my chap-stick to a 160z bottle of Dew
• my black hat that hides the fact that I didn't wash my hair today so that I could sleep an extra 15 minutes
  
• Annessa stopping in the middle of the stairs to tell me she loves me
• reconnecting with a friend
• a compliment from a co-worker
• a soft serve ice cream cone
• being bare foot
• the seasonal gas-station-coffee flavor: s'mores!
• seeing Annessa jump up and down when I pulled into her sitter's driveway
• watching Annessa make two new friends
  
• learning something new that will make me a better teacher and reading specialist
• being able to help someone "get it"
• listening to Annessa read
• a back rub from Rich
• manicotti that tastes even better the second day
• taking a walk with Rich and Annessa to see the geese
• talking on the phone to my mom
  

Ex's

I've come to the conclusion that moving is a bit like breaking up with a boyfriend. Let me explain. When you break up with a boyfriend, it is always bitter sweet. There is a part of you that knows it's time to move on - the are more fish in the sea and all that. Yet, there is a part of you that is afraid to let go of the comfortable - the KNOWN.

That is how I felt moving out of our house on Cumberland Drive. I knew it was time to move on. We were bursting at the seams - either Rich was going to have to get rid of some fishing gear, or I was going to have to sell some purses (and we both knew that was Not Happening). Or maybe I could have issued ban on new toys (yeah, right. Have you met my mother?) Yes, our new house will have more closet space. And a toy room.

But, on the other hand, what if we look back at Cumberland and realize that life was so much simpler there? What if our neighbors don't laugh at Rich's dumb jokes like Jack and Gretchyn did? What if I can't find a new grocery store I like? What if the new house never feels like home?

When I was cleaning the house, erasing any evidence that our family had lived there for close to seven years, I noticed a little hand print on the wall. Normally, I would be annoyed. But not that day. Tears welled up in my eyes. I hesitated.... Annessa won't be making hand prints here anymore....

I dipped my rag into the bucket and erased the hand print so that the new family could start fresh.