Hanging out

My daughter, the smoke monster

Let's just say that Ruby listened to a little too much Lost while in utero and came out sounding kind of like the island dwellers' biggest foe.

We get a lot of crazy looks when she does this out in public. Just so you don't think of pure evil every time you see my daughter from now on, she doesn't always laugh like that...

Sorry it's sideways. Happy last days of Lost!

My husband, the MBA

Ryan has his MBA! Well, technically he still has a month and a half of classes to finish but the good people at George Mason University have faith in him so he received his diploma on Friday.

I took really crappy photos of the entire event, in part because both kids were sick and crying and I was focusing on them but mostly because I am just a really terrible photographer. I enlisted Ryan's brother Rob to take a few but, believe it or not, he was even worse.

A good friend was going to watch Ruby but, of course, both children fell ill that very day. I couldn't let my kid get her kids sick but I also didn't want to stay home from Ryan's graduation. So I packed the feverish tots up and decided we could handle it. When we showed up at the Patriot Center, however, both kids were screaming. We tried to sit in the seats high up, hoping the elevation could drown out their cries, but we still got quite a few dirty looks. Complicating things further, the ushers forbid me to take my stroller past the entrances to the seats and I was not allowed in the handicap access areas. So we headed outside. And then we walked around the arena at least 10 times. They calmed down finally and I was able to sneak into a handicap area long enough to watch Ryan walk across the stage and to give a yelp when his name was announced. That's really all I wanted to do.

I'm just glad we got a good photo of Ryan - creepy professor style.

He told me not to post about this but I reminded him of how we (as mommy bloggers) are always competing to determine whose man is the smartest, hottest, most service-oriented and gives the best gifts. Well chalk one up for Ryan in the smartie category because now he can add MBA to the ever-lengthening list of initialisms trailing his name ;-).

Seriously though, congrats Ryan!

p.s. Thanks for all of your kind comments on the last post.

A short essay on my grandma: Joan W. Merrill

Last Sunday was a hard day.

Looking for something to keep my mind off of the events of the day, I plopped down on the couch that night to watch an episode of one of my favorite shows, America's Funniest Home Videos. It wasn't far into the show that it hit me - that feeling that makes you laugh out loud. I started to giggle and naturally tried to suppress it but that only made the fit more intense. Soon my stomach muscles were tensed up, my body was bobbing up and down with the cadence of my howls and tears popped out onto my cheeks. It took Tom Bergeron's unfunny remarks to finally calm me down.

And then I took a very deep breath.

It felt like the first actual breath I had taken since very early that morning, when I found out that my grandma had died. After trying my best (and failing a few times) to hold in tears and gulp down so many different emotions all day long, my lungs finally released both a large amount of carbon dioxide and all the feelings I had tried to conceal inside of me. And I felt good. I turned to Ryan and said, "that was therapy."

And then suddenly all of these memories flooded into my mind of my grandmother laughing - not chuckling, not smiling - laughing hysterically. I knew in an instant what my grandmother had passed on to me: sometimes embarrassing and mostly irrepressible fits of laughter.

She had an odd laugh, something I can hear in my head as I type. But I can't put words to it. One memory so clear in my mind is of her offering me some of the "home made Oreo cookies" she had yet to frost and then bursting into laughter the moment I took a bite and almost puked, realizing it was really just an extremely burnt sugar cookie.

I also can't forget her giggling fits that took place in the middle of pre-dinner family prayers or musical numbers in church. The laughter would catch on to the rest of us who seem to have gotten her giggling gene and soon we would all lose it. And honestly, if we could have stopped laughing we would have, but the more you fought it, the worse it got. So don't blame me if you every catch me red-faced, hunched over and cracking up in church... or at a funeral.

---

Grandma had a disease that slowly took away everything except her mind. First, I remember watching her drop cups on the floor on accident and then seeing her question why her hand just let go of the cup like that. Then, as her depth perception and coordination gave way, her drivers license was taken. She started to trip on things and was unable to catch herself on the ground. Soon she was using a walker and her once-beautiful penmanship was sloppy and slanted. She would begin telling stories in the middle and she had to work hard to get her mouth to say the words she needed to express herself. Near the end, she couldn't walk, her food had to be in liquid form and she was no longer able to talk.

But we knew her mind was still acute. Over our phone conversations, my mom would tell me that she felt that he mother she knew was still in that helpless, emaciated body because someone would say something funny and Grandma would start to laugh. It was one of the last things she could do, one of the few things she had left. Grandma laughed on the last day of her life.

My mom told me that in the day leading up to Grandma's death, everyone joined together at the house. They cried and cried and then something would make them laugh until they cried again.

---

Most of the above was written on Monday after I began contemplating what a legacy my grandmother really left. I flew out to Utah that afternoon and was able to attend my grandmother's funeral on Wednesday. It was such a beautiful memorial... minus one shameful little incident. You see, I was asked to give a musical number with the other grandchildren at said funeral. It was during the first verse of "I Often Go Walking" that my sister and I began to tear up in the memory of our grandmother. Our voices started to shake, we looked at each other and of course, we got the giggles. Then, in a failed attempt to compose herself, my sister let out a huge snort. And we lost it. Completely. I still can't get the picture of all the horrified faces in the packed chapel out of my mind. They must have thought we were completely nuts.

After we were done, I turned around to my mom and aunts who were sitting on the stand and mustered a quiet, "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. This is how she would have wanted it," my aunt Wendy countered.

And through my utter humiliation, I felt like what she said was true. If my grandma had been there she would have been laughing right along with us. I loved my grandma so much and I guess I am kind of thankful for her legacy of laughter - even if it is the uncontrollable kind.

Family photos

Photos by Ben Manning, a budding photographer and high school senior! Thanks Ben (and Rachel)!

For once he wasn't sitting on her

While doing something in the other room, I heard the sound that comes from Ruby only when someone is provoking her. And by someone I mean Ethan because he is both her best friend and constant tormenter. I headed toward the living room expecting to see the usual: a grinning Ethan sitting on a squawking Ruby. The sound stopped, making me even more nervous that something was awry. And then I walked in on this:





I know, baby in sunglasses. You have seen it before. I guess it's because they are my kids, but I honestly couldn't stop laughing. How hilarious that Ethan had the thought to stick his sunglasses on his sister and how funny does she look in them? I'm laughing just looking at the photos now.

Speaking of expressions...

I am in love with this photo taken by our friend Albert at Easter dinner. I like it because it is so candid. I don't think anyone in this photo knew we were being photographed at the moment. But it looks staged, doesn't it? Ryan appears to be teaching a tutorial on how to make a baby fly. My expression reads that this is the coolest thing I have ever seen and James looks as if he thinks Ruby is more than six inches off of Ryan's hands and about to hit his ceiling. Oh, and Ruby seems as focused and determined as - gulp - a cheerleader.

Tangent: spoken from a former cheerleader, an accident prone one who only made it because there were 24 - yes two dozen - cheerleading spots open and I was the last girl to try out. In said tryout, I took a tumble (read: dive) off my tryout partner, hurling me into a summersault - not a flip - a full-on tuck and roll on the ground. No, the judges could not forget and took pity on the poor little girl who fell on her head. I was definitely hilarious entertainment in short shorts. And who would turn down hilarious entertainment in short shorts?

That last thought makes me hope Ruby chooses other activities over cheerleading. I mean, to fans and spectators, cheerleaders are nothing more than little girls in short skirts - an added bonus to the game. I realized this years after my little stint, and I have grown to sort of despise the demeaning qualities of cheerleading. But Ruby, if you want to be a cheerleader, you will have a lot of fun moments, so I am not stopping you. For now, though, just enjoy being thrown in the air by your dad. (Ooooo, just thought of another reason not to be a cheerleader: I have dropped more girls on the ground than you can count on both hands.)

A week and a day ago

I know this is quite late, but Ryan turned 28 a week and a day ago! Yay! We hit golf balls and then, after a small key-losing snafu, we had cake and ice cream at our place. I thought it was a lot of fun. These images my friend took of us at the party tell a different story, however. Or maybe we are just not that photogenic. Anyway, our hideous faces expressions made me laugh.

Like his daddy

On Friday, we went and hit golf balls for Ryan's birthday. No one enjoyed it more than Ethan. We let him hit a few and he made it into the red zone almost every time. Sadly, this is some crude video footage from Ryan's phone and you can't tell that his hit was right on. Ryan wanted me to post it anyway.

Hairspray dating

Found: a watch from my past.

It was discovered while I cleaned out my filing boxes last week. The amount of dried hairspray blanketing it dates it back to about, oh, the seventh grade, when I probably went through a couple of supersized bottles of L.A. Looks a month.

Happy Easter

Photo taken by Mystique ;-) in her apartment.

Full Saturday

On Saturday we strolled down to the National Mall to see the cherry blossoms around the tidal basin and we ran into the kite festival. This happens every year. We always happen upon the kite festival on our way to the cherry blossoms. We were mad at ourselves for forgetting for the third year in a row. Ethan wished he had taken his Spiderman kite but he was more than thrilled to see everyone else's Spiderman kites.

We did make the trek down to the tidal basin but the blossoms are still very young and light. I am hoping to take the kids back later this week when the flowers become very pink and they start to snow down on you as you walk under them.

It was a chilly day and Ruby spent it tucked inside the stroller. I felt kind of bad she was missing out on all the action but she didn't seem to mind.

I kept sucking air as Ethan leaned over the railing because I would be the one jumping in after him. Ryan doesn't worry... or swim.

We rushed back home, got ready, left the kids with our friends and headed off to the Utah Jazz game at the Verizon Center. We felt naked without strollers and I made a conscious goal to not rock back and forth without a baby in my arms. But we forgot all about Ryan Jr. and little Ru once the game started. The Jazz won and we found friends to enjoy some Tangy Sweet with. Then we went home and passed out. It was a great day.

Crusty King

 

Lately we have been getting this look a lot:

 

 

 

And now I get where it comes from:

 

photos from Ryan's phone

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We don't all exactly fit in one arm-length photo.

It was most certainly happy

Yes, Sunday was my birthday and I rang in the beginning of my latter twenties with what I believe is the most delicious chocolate cheesecake every created by man. We gave some friends a try and Ryan declared it too rich for his palette, but I alone have been chipping away at this beauty for the past two days. That would be all fine and good with me if Ryan hadn't shown me the nutrition facts. I don't know about you but I have never before experienced something with 208 percent of my daily value of saturated fat - for one slice! I had no idea that saturated fat could be so tasty.

Thanks Ryan!