Turkeys can fly...

Quote of the night.

Jacob (age 7): Flamingoes and penquins are the only flightless birds in the United States!

Me: Can turkeys fly?

Jessica (age 5) : If they're on a plane they can fly!

5:15am

I love my tat.  He's just the sweetest, most caring...

We're just hanging out.  He was just checking out my new MacBook making sure I had the proper security, firewalls, McAfee...blah, blah,blah.

As we were sitting, waiting for my computer to load I noticed his hands.  His Polish hands. What makes them Polish?  Well the palms are rounder like a little kids and the fingers are a bit stockier.  Looking at his hands I realized...I have his thumbs and his palms!

The other things I noticed of course were the calloused nail beds and uneven edges.  How beautiful are my dad's Polish hands?  I started to realized how hard those hands have worked for my brothers and I.  Everyday for the last 25+ years like a machine he gets up at 5:15am, washes his face, eats his oatmeal (thanks Dr. Mahlay!) and drives off to first shift at General Motors.  Dealing with English as a second language and not to mention dealing with the politics of working at a place like GM, unions and all.

Man, my dad could've bailed a long time ago.  Between my one brother's drug addiction, to another's being out of town while my dad went through chemo and from me not finishing college.  He stuck by us and got up everyday at 5:15am.

Just looking and those sweet, hard-working, Polish hands makes me feel so protected and safe.

Just go!

My mom turned 63 this Saturday. She's beautiful. (By the way, handsome little guy with her is my nephew, Jacob...love of my life!)

Anyway, typically on birthdays we cook dinner and get together. Sometimes extended family will come over for "a drink". Well, we don't drink. Not like they do. And in light of recent happenings with my oldest brother, my mom has been a touch sad lately and didn't feel like entertaining. And quite frankly, we don't drink. Not like they do.

So I talked her into going camping. We have a camper at a private campground near Pymatuning Lake. We L O V E going there in the summer. Winter...not so much because we "winterize" the house which = no running water which = going to the bathroom in the public restrooms. However, we all needed a break so we packed into the van and headed out to our summer casa.

We got there and immediately started the campfire. Crazy I know but we bundled up and my dad helped by serving us brave bearers of cold weather cinnamon apple tea. Oh yeah, we were roughing it!

The next day, mom's b-day, my sister-in-law and I ventured into town for sleds for Jacob and Jessica. We were successful at the second dollar store (Yep we're in Andover people...small town).

We pulled up to the hill and the kids went nuts down and up the hill they went! Although bundled up like Randy from "A Christmas Story" about 10 minutes into sledding boots were falling off, snow had gotten into mittens, cheeks were rosy and noses were...well you get the picture.

The best part of that whole afternoon...which absolutely trumped the campfire and tea was my mom taking one of the sleds and flying down the hill! I mean, legs in the air and howling down the hill! It was great to see her let loose and just go! It was her birthday but what a gift for me to finally see her have fun and shriek with laughter.

I've been so wound up over her because of what we have been going through with my other brother (I'll fill ya in later) it was a relief for me. And somewhat of a confirmation again that I cannot control her happiness. You have to let go and just go.