You gotta see this

So we let go. almost two weeks ago.

There have been many texts, a couple of phone calls, and couple of very brief visits to deliver needed items. And one drop-in from her to just say hi.

We are all adjusting. At home the boys are finally remembering to set the table for just four, and not ask, "will Chelsea be home for dinner." And Jack has claimed what was her seat next to me at the dinner table. :-) I'm not sure what will happen when she comes home for a visit.

Dave and I are adjusting, too. He doesn't have to rearrange the "upside down forks" in the dishwasher. We're not playing car shuffle in the driveway on a daily basis. I'm stuck with guy flicks on Fridays for family movie night - and there's no more waiting up for curfew, we just go to bed when we're tired!

And, alas, she's adjusting, too. A little too well. :-)

Take a look... http://www.wolfpackerchelsealauren17.blogspot.com/

Letting Go

I’ve thought a lot about letting go recently. That’s because our first-born heads to college this week.


I keep reminding myself that the move to college is just one more step in letting go. After all, as parents we have been letting go bit by bit as our kids grow and develop.

- That first time you leave her in the care of a sitter


- Her first day ever of preschool – and then kindergarten, then middle school, then high school


- Her first sleepover


- Her first “sleep-away” camp or conference


- That first time she drives away in a car without you

- That first time she travels to a different country without you


- Her first date

So moving to college is just another step, right?

That’s what I keep telling myself. Our job as parents is to equip them to venture out on their own. To teach, guide, correct and encourage so they are ready to embrace these moments.

So here we go… letting go.

Stories

A couple of weeks ago, our family took a journey to a small town in Oklahoma. We met my sister and her family there to place a grave marker with the McNutt family plots in memory of my Dad, who passed away back in February.


We came with our families in search of something we could pass to our children to help them know and remember their Grandpa McNutt and his heritage beyond their own perosnal memories of him.

One evening we met with Mike. He grew up across the street from my Dad.

They were best buds from about age 8 through high school. He shared story after story. From their childhood days of admiring Roy Rogers, to hanging out at the soda fountain in the drugstore my grandparents owned, to their high school days of pulling pranks on classmates and teachers. He brought a school yearbook to show a picture of my Dad as senior class president – cool as a cucumber in his rolled up jeans and perfect flat-top hair drinking a Dr. Pepper while hanging out with the rest of the class council (my mom was class secretary!)

We also went to visit my Dad’s Uncle Clay. He’s 97 and I certainly did not expect the stories we got.

For almost 2 hours, Uncle Clay shared stories. They were in no particular order and all came up randomly. Uncle Clay moved to Oklahoma in 1917 in a covered wagon. He was able to sing the World War I fight song by heart. He served in World War II helping lay a pipeline between India and China. (Yup, right over the Himalayas.) He was a school teacher before and after the war. He was city manager of Muskogee for many years. And after retiring took it upon himself to start a foundation to re-beautify Muskogee after a blight wiped out all of their elm trees. He’s now known as the man who made Muskogee a beautiful place to live. And to think… while growing up I just knew him as Uncle Clay.

We couldn’t be in Oklahoma without taking the kids through our parents’ “hometown”. My Mom grew up with her parents owning the town café and my Dad’s parents owned the drugstore. But it doesn’t look quite like we remember it as kids. Back in 1984, about a week after my Grandma McNutt died, a huge tornado came through Morris and wiped out the one-block town. So much history gone.

This strip of buildings have been built to replace what was there. One of the places that was there was the drugstore that my grandparents owned. The old-fashioned kind - with a soda-fountain, booths, and the pharmacy in the back, where my Grandpa mixed drugs. They sold it and retired when I was about 10 or 11. I was so sad when they did. I loved learning to make cherry or vanilla cokes (and drinking them); working behind the counter and even helping clean up and lock up in the evenings.

We left Oklahoma with these stories and more in our hearts. And that's exactly what we were looking for.

You can see it coming

I love summer rain showers. Especially when they are accompanied by thunder. However, our 10 year old is not fond of thunder at all. No matter what the season.

Today we had a doozy of a storm. I was out running errands, getting drenched. Jack was home with his big sister. This is what I came home to.

Yup – he’s learned how to look up the local weather report and follow the radar imaging. What you can’t see is that he was watching Jaws 4 on Netflix streaming at the same time.

Then tonight at dinner we were talking about sharks, as you do. Chelsea mentioned that she’d prefer swimming in clear ocean water. That way you can see the shark coming. As if an expected shark bite hurts less than an unexpected shark bite.

Just like a severe thunderstorm is less scary when you can see it coming on the radar…

Dog Days of Summer

We've been dogsitting this week. Gina and Lola are two of our favorite dogs.

They just come in and make themselves at home.

With three big dogs in the house I sometimes feel like I'm in the movie "Seems Like Old Times" with Goldie Hawn. Everytime a door opens, or a truck drives by, or a dish rattles in the kitchen, or a squirrel rustles leaves outisde, everyone is up and running to check it out. And everywhere we go, there is a dog.

They love to go on our daily walk.

And they love attention.

We'll miss them when they go home.

Home of the Brave

Yes, it’s the 4th of July, and I am ever-grateful for those who went before us and stood up for our freedoms. And I am continually grateful for those who choose to fight to keep our freedoms and to gain freedom for others around the world.

But that’s not what this post is about. I looked up the meaning of the word brave. It says “displaying or possessing courage.”

This weekend, as we celebrate the home of the brave, we have seen a different display of courage in our home.

Friday, our 10 year old, underwent surgery. It was nothing major. At a well-check a few weeks ago, his doctor detected an issue and referred us to a specialist. The specialist then decided that surgery was necessary and scheduled it for 3 days later, which was this past Friday.

Jack is not a fan of all things medical – medicine, dentists, shots, talk of disease, etc. He’d just rather not think about it, much less talk about it or experience it. Fortunately, he’s been our healthiest child so we haven’t had to deal much with his fear of all things medical. Until Friday.

In the few days we had to prepare for his procedure, we talked through a lot of fear and anxiety. As we drove to the hospital that morning, Jack said to Dave, “Dad, you played a pretty good psychologist last night. I’d give you a B.” Eventually that fateful moment came when we walked into the hospital.

Jack took each moment in stride and we did our best to work through the emotions and balance that with distractions.

The cool thing was that he could draw on his sheets.

He had to make sure that they knew his name is Jack even though the records say John.

Eventually they came to wheel him away and he was on his own facing his fears. Later he told me that he wasn’t brave because he cried when they wheeled him away. I reassured him that his bravery was exactly that – his tears were an honest display of how scared he was. And it took courage to keep control of himself otherwise and follow the directions of the nurses and doctors.

A little over an hour later we were in the recovery room with him as he fought the yucky feeling of waking from anesthesia and realized what “you’ll be a little sore” really means. And then the realization that he had not one, but two scars, to remind him of this day.

A little while later we were packing up and heading home – which is exactly where Jack wanted to go. Here he is in his ride out – he told the nurse the two-seater wheel chair might be a bit much for him.

So on this weekend as we celebrate the home of the brave, we’ve been home with our brave 10 year old, who now has quite a story under his belt…

It's summer. Our family schedule is all over the map. There is no consistency week to week and no structure to many of our days. But we still like to sit down as a family for dinner as often as possible. It's just about the only time of day we are all together.

But the schedule of summer, along with the heat, means I need to come up with recipes that 1) are mostly pleasing to everyone 2) not too time consuming in prep and cooking and 3)not heavy on the stomach or too hot in the body.

Last night I made one of my favorites. A friend shared this idea with me a couple of years ago, and it's been a hit with most of the family. (very few foods are a hit with everyone in our family....)

It's easy and requires a grill - keeping the kitchen nice and cool.

For each person, assemble the following:

On a square of foil (I use the non-stick kind) layer:

- Thin slices of potatoes.
- One thin chicken breast

- Feta cheese sprinkled on top

- Seal up the foil packet tight, place it on the grill for 15-20 minutes.

The great thing about this recipe is that you can vary it for each individual, depending on preferences, since everyone gets their own little foil packet.

Last night I used sweet potatoes for Dave's and mine. The kids prefer regular potatoes.

Also, our chicken was marinated in a hot sauce, but not the kids'.

I also used reduced fat feta cheese, keeping in check what we eat.

Served up with a leafy green salad, it was a great balanced meal.

Do you have any fun, favorite summer recipes?