Oh What A Night - Frankie Valli & the Four Seasons

Life as a child.


Everyone can remember at least a few [great] things about childhood.

Maybe it was sitting outside on Turkey Day Eve waiting for the big moment when your dad was going to put the Turkey in the backyard under ground pit.

Maybe it was playing Barbie’s and dreaming of meeting Michael Jackson.

Or maybe it was watching football and WWF on Sunday nights from inside a fort in the family room.

It might even be running at lightening speed (it seemed) in your new pair of shoes.

Or it could be as simple as the saying your sister said every night before bed.

Or

. . . . the way your dad called you a “rat” and it made you giggle.

. . . . maybe it’s squirting pudding through the gaps in your teeth.

. . . . milk out your nose.

. . . . cupcakes.

. . . . a birthday cake [in the face].

. . . . just birthday's all together.

. . . . Being able to yell for your mom at 1,3 or 4am knowing she‘d be right by your side within seconds.

Or maybe not.

Maybe you can't remember many of those things about being a child.

Maybe all you can remember is the feeling.

Freedom. Carelessness. Adventure.

Imagination.

Playing so hard that you were exhausted by dinner time.

Forgiving so e a s i l y.

Loving so much.

Think back.

Don't look at your cell phone.

Wait to respond to that email. 
And think. Yes, I know it’s hard. Thanks to Kelly. I tried it Friday night to Saturday night. [going “unplugged"] Yep, I failed. But I will attempt again. If it’s only one day a week “unplugged”. It’ll be worth it.

[Anyone see modern family last night? Bar soap -- cell phone anyone?]

I Remember.

I Cherish.

I want nothing more than Peanut to have the same feelings about her childhood that I have of mine. And I don’t recall my mom/dad being on the phone, emailing, texting, putting any “work” over/before family.

WELLLLLLLLLLLLL, the one time my mom did, I cried and she ate the chicken I made her for dinner.   Right.   Then. ;) [remember that Mom?!]

I want that feeling more often.

When someone did something you didn't like, you reacted.
But you forgave. You said you were sorry and it was over. Like over - over.
You laughed as long, hard and as loud as you wanted. Because it was funny. It was that funny. It didn’t matter if anyone else thought it was. You laughed until your stomach hurt and you didn't even think it being a great abs workout.

When it hurt. You cried. Because it hurt. Because you were sad. And you let everyone see. Because it was okay to be sad sometimes.

And you said "I love you" as often as you blinked.

Because you were a kid. And that is just what kid's do.

Then, we grew up. All most of us did. And we don't show those feelings like we used to. We don't forgive as quickly, or love as often.

The world got bigger. And we may not look like a kid, or live like a kid. But that doesn't mean we can't still feel like a kid.

So last night I had a dance party with Peanut. And one very cool jukebox.  The timing was bad.  It was late.  I wasn't in the best of mood from the evening events leading to 7:30pm. 

Until. . . we began dancing.

And laughed . . Like kids.

And danced . . Like kids.

And acted . . Like kids.

And it was wonderful.

Because it was fun & also very funny.

And it‘s great being a grown-up kid.
 
[This was the song that started all the fun last night]
 
enjoy.

Mint Milanos & Running on water

I remember my childhood like it was yesterday.


I wore Reebok high tops, Vans and stonewashed jeans. My face was full of heavy metal for almost two years and I was cursed with thin, straight hair that closely resembled the color of dirt.

I often recall playing in the backyard with my brother M & his/our friends.  When we couldn't go swim at the "W's" or "P's" place, we'd set up the sprinkler under the trampoline and see who could break a bone first.  Yes, I usually won.  Even though by brother would be jumping off the roof onto the tramp. [?!!?]

We'd run around the "W's" back yard with our friends in the summertime.  Driving ATV's [their backyard was big, big, big], playing shark & running as fast as we could down the hill and trying to continue to run while on water. We'd chomp on broken Mint Milano we'd have bought for 1/2 price while in Logan, Utah & "S's" mom would bring us out the fanciest PB & J sandwiches you've ever seen.


I kept my homework organized in a Trapper Keeper full of bright, sparkly Lisa Frank folders and I l o v e d  those pens that had four colors of ink.

Dinner was 99.4% of the time, a proper, square meal with a meat, two veggies and a starch. RARE was the occasion we'd get take-out.  Usually the 5 for 5 deal at nearby Arby's.  Every day off from school was a know date with Dad at the nearby bowling alley.

Life was good.

And even when it wasn't perfect - it was never bad.

Yes, there were times I'd get in trouble. Occasions when I'd take the "too short" of shorts to school in my backpack and change in the school's crusty bathroom.  Days my "friends" would sell me out to their parents and I'd return home with a parent or two with flaring nostrils.


Somehow I'd always come out alright after that quiet time in my room.

I'd waste time listening to Tiffany, Duran Duran and Debbie Gibson sing while hiding under my 100% cotton sheet, doodling with my Etch A Sketch or noteboook [at varied ages]. Then they'd would come to my room and we'd talk about whatever trouble I was in. After a few serious words, maybe a few tears and a quivering lip - we'd hug and go to the kitchen for a bowl of ice cream navel orange.

Now that I'm a "grown-up", with my kido [stretching the limits at times], I think back to those days, and how hiding under my covers and a hug from Mom/Dad seemed to make it all better.  I try to be as understanding as my parents were [no small task].  One [extra] calming breath & a hug.


Sometimes it really is that easy.
 
Just a little love & understanding can truly be all it takes. 
 
 
**************************************
 
See that, I didn't even mention my buckle today.
 
Happy Friday!

craving

So all day yesterday, I was craving pizza. I woke up not only wanting pizza BUT craving pizza. But it wasn't that easy. I wanted a frozen pizza. And "no" although I wish I was pregnant, I am not. So when the clock struck 10am [lunch time when you wake up at 5am] I went to Basha's in search of the frozen pizza of my dreams. CPK pizza - No! Red Barron - not a chance. Freschetta - Yuck. Tony's - - wait the one I ate at the Pierson's?! - - Oh yea!

Yes, I actually came home with this:

The pizza my summers were made of. [And yes, after 10 minutes of trying to "counterclockwise" rotate this photo, I gave up.] The ones with the fake cheese and the who knows what in the crust. I'd take a photo of the ingredients list but I really don't want to know what is in this.

So I baked it - took it into my office - took a bite - disgusting. How did I eat these four + times a week?!?!

However, this is what I really wanted all day:

Oh yes, it is . . . Fiestada Pizza. The reason why I spent my mornings begging Mom for lunch money.

This little octagon shaped piece of . . . . heaven.

Why do they not sell these in the grocery stores?!