In-laws

My in-laws just left. They've been here since Sunday evening. Don't feel sorry for me, or think of typical in-law jokes--Pam and Chris don't fit that mold. They are easy to be around, genuinely helpful, and never offer unwanted advice. And they bring two dogs. I don't like dogs, but theirs are well-behaved, calm and the objects of much love and affection by my girls. And upon arrival, T and Chris erected a chicken wire fence to protect my beloved garden. We had lots of fun: visiting the zoo, going on an 8-mile bike ride (H and T rode their bikes, I rode mine and towed K on the trail-a-bike*, and Pam and Chris rode the tandem), camping at Tawas with Cody and Laura, shopping for school clothes, watching the Olympics, and just being together. Tom and Chris dug trenches in the backyard so now the tree house will have electricity (whenever it gets built)**. And FYI, you can't really see his hair in this picture, but Chris is the only known source of the red hair that my girls have.

*Our neighbor just gave this to us last Saturday. It's a bike for kids that attaches to an adult bike. The adult does the balancing, and the kid pedals with you, or rests. K adores this way of riding...no training wheels! And we get lots of smiles from observers.

**So we've been planning to build a tree house since spring. Our neighbor said he was going to tear down his garage and that we could have the wood. That made a nice tree house affordable. But dear neighbor keeps saying he will tear down his garage and never does. Meanwhile, we have windows and siding and roofing for the tree house, not to mention posts cemented into the ground, just waiting.

Parents

Jealousy is a normal reaction for me when someone casually mentions dropping their kids off for an hour, a night, or a weekend with the grandparents. I got a little revenge this weekend. Not really, but the neighbors with the local grandparents were a bit jealous of all that my parents accomplished during their visit.

My parents came Sunday evening and left after dinner today. They played games with the kids, took us out for dinner (twice), made lunch, trimmed my bushes, tested the soil in my garden (more on that later), washed windows, mixed up my gluten-free flours that I use in baking, read stories, played more games, went swimming, took H to a movie while K and I went to the doctor, and just generally supported our parenting and my mothering by helping out. It was hard to say good-bye.

Thanks mom and dad. I love you.

My Grandma

I love this picture of my grandma. It makes me think of all the things about her I never knew, a reminder that she had a vibrant life before being a grandma. The inscription says "To remind you again of how much I love you--Lou." I never heard my grandpa call grandma Lou. Her name was Mary Lou. She passed away in March at the age of 81. I found this picture at my grandpa's house. I couldn't resist posting it here. I will soon have it on my wall too. I need to get the picture of Grandpa from the same time period (he's a handsome dude). I think it was taken in the mid 40s. I love it and it will soon be on my wall.

Gramma used to tell me stories before I went to bed. Here's the one I remember the most:
When my dad was in early elementary he wanted to be the line leader at school because the line leader was the first one out the door to go home. But he was never fast enough at getting his coat, hat, boots, and mittens on. One day he asked to go to the bathroom. He was gone a long time. At the end of the day, dad was the first person to get dressed in his outdoor gear. The teacher was puzzled, for a moment, since all the other students were still standing by their cubbies trading mittens, boots, and hats.

Here's my second favorite that I just heard for the first time. When Grandpa was eight or nine, he got a brand new bike. It was red, with big white tires and he was proud of it. He would hop on that bike and go zipping around his small Indiana town (what town, dad?). He was old enough to avoid pedestrians. He turned the corner, pedaling fast and there was little Mary Lou. It wasn't love at first sight, more like a hit and run. Grandpa knocked her down and kept going without looking back. Grandpa's aunt Rosie always said, "And she got you back for that a hundred times." Or something like that...where are the notes I took?

Love you Gram. There are so many more stories I wish I knew, so many I should have asked about.