December Memories in brief:

Jesus was not quite as front and center of our family holidays as I would like.  Rather than wallow in despair over this, I choose to plan better for next year.

I forgot to take pictures on Christmas Day.  Okay, shoot me!  I despaired over it for a bit then thought, "If Mary had had a digital camera, would she have taken pictures of Christ's birth to post on Flickr?"  I think not.  I followed her example and pondered things in my heart.

Jason's such a great husband.  He has always wanted to get me jewelry for Christmas (I guess all those jewelry store commercials get to him).  Unfortunately, I'm not the jewelry type.  So, I asked for a nice, pretty watch for Christmas and made the man happy.  The things that please my husband -- listening to me sing carols and buying me jewelry.  What do I have to complain about?!

Gordon had a truly magical Christmas.  He's at the age of really "getting" Christmas and Santa.  I dread the change in the next couple years.  But I'll cherish the memories.

Teeny was my more spiritually-minded child this Christmas.  She stated, firmly and with conviction, that it was Jesus who was bringing the gifts Christmas Eve.  And she never once wavered from this belief.  Also, she was frequently heard singing, "Holy night, holy night, holy night, holy night, holy night, holy night, holy night. . ."

This was Bud-Jack's first Christmas.  He received some toys and clothes from the grandparents and a homemade lovey made of a tossed-aside teddy bear and an old receiving blanket from me.  He was pleased.

The tree was fake and tackilly clad in both large and small, colored and white lights, tinsel "boa-like" garland, and the ornaments that have, so far, survived small children.  But it was beautiful, and I'm already wishing I hadn't taken it down just yet.

Can't wait till next year.  Planning already.  But it won't take up so much time now, so I should be back to posting more regularly now.

While I had hoped to celebrate Stir-Up Sunday with great flare -- baking bread, making wishes, saying prayers, and pulling out all the Christmas fare -- due to the flu (yeah!) things just didn't happen as planned.  None-the-less, we all had a good time celebrating a small, early Christmas with my mother-in-law before she left to go back to Ohio. 

Jason did set up a ***fake*** Christmas tree.  I'm still sorta reeling over that one.  I consented under the agreement that I would get unlimited pine-scented candles through Epiphany.  And, I've consoled myself with the knowledge that the lights look much better when looking up through a fake tree than a real one (but that is just a strange fascination of mine that I've had since childhood).  We haven't decorated the tree yet, save for a couple cute beaded angel ornaments that my mother-in-law made for us; still, the tree has seen the first of the Christmas gifts (90% of which were for the kids -- just as they should be) and a quick and spirited unwrapping. 

Things are alot different this Christmas; and as I sit and put together an "Advent itinerary," I can't help but notice the difference.  The close friends that composed most of our social life in the Poconos have now been replaced by a block full of strangers and seemingly distant co-workers.  Still, I can know that I will have a husband home every weekend of the Christmas season to celebrate with me and the kids; and the block-full of strangers offers the much-needed and long-neglected challenge of being a light for Christ in the world -- that's something to be excited about.  I won't be looking out on acres of snow covered hills and pines this winter, but I will see my kids (if we can get over flus) playing with kids their own age out in the front yard as I did as a child.  The living room is smaller this year, but the presents will look more "abundant" that way.  Above all though, it will be more real than ever that I have with me at Christmas what matters most -- God, my husband, and my children.  What more could I possibly need or want.

So, with that in mind, I graciously welcome the new Advent season with all it's changes.  I ask the God who "knows my anxious thoughts" to change them into a new energy focused on discovering what really matters during the holidays.  I seek revelation, joy, peace. . . and all that other good stuff.

Let me be the first to wish all you, my family and friends, a blessed Advent season!

Happy Thanksgiving, Cooked Turkey

We had a nice, relaxed Thanksgiving.  That is what I love about staying home for holidays (though I'm only adament about Christmas).  Monday I attempted to spend time relaxing with the kids.  We watched movies and played and read, but I have to admit that it is really hard to sit and "do nothing" when to-do lists are beckoning from the computer desk.  Tuesday was cleaning day; and Wednesday was spent baking, baking, baking.  The kids helped a bit, though I think they were a bit overwhelmed by the sheer number of items that had to be prepared -- four loaves of pumpkin bread, a pumpkin pie, a pecan pie, a cheeseball, and french onion dip.  Still, they added the cutest and probably most appreciated touch to the day:  they took a loaf of pumpkin bread to each of our neighbors. . . in the rain.  Needless to say they received a warm welcome at both homes.

Wednesday night they also went with Jason to pick Ging-Ging L. up from the airport.  Of course they are always thrilled to see Ging-Ging who comes bearing little gifts and lots of energy that momma seems to lack sometimes. 

Thursday began with the Macy's parade on TV, though the kids quickly dragged Ging-Ging downstairs to play most of the morning.  Since our turkey was a mere 10-pounder, and Jason likes eating festive meals mid-afternoon, I didn't have too much to do till noon.  So, I reveled in day-after-Thanksgiving ads.  There was really only one harried hour in my day -- that hour before eating when it feels you are suddenly having to prepare way too many dishes.  But can you have too much food on T-day?  I think not.

It struck me as funny when, at the end of the day, Jason sat down by me and said in a mopey voice, I feel like all I've done is lay around, watch TV, and eat all day.  WELL, DUH!  I told him to pull aside just about any man in America and he would find a sympathetic ear. 

So, what am I thankful for?

• A gracious, forgiving, and ever confident Father God.
• A wonderful Savior.
• The help and guidance of the Holy Spirit.  (I need it!)
• An ever growing and strengthening marriage to a wonderful man who challenges me (in a good way) and stretches me and forces me to really think for myself.
• A friendly big 4 year old boy who sometimes just melts my heart with the things he says.
• A beautiful 2 year old girl who loves to give me kisses and hugs.
• A sweet-as-can-be 6 month old boy who smiles EVERY TIME he sees me, even if he is in the middle of crying his little eyes out.
• Two parents who I KNOW pray dilegently for me, Jason, and our children EVERY SINGLE DAY.  (Don't know how we'd make it through without those prayers.)
• A brother whom I have great memories with (like singing oldies in the car on the way to grandma's one summer).
• Two in-laws who love their grandchildren enormously.  Couldn't ask for more giving grandparents.
• A sister-in-law who never fails to make me laugh -- she is very gifted that way -- so funny when she wants to be.
• Good friends in Pennsylvania, North Carolina, and Virginia. . . the kind that you know you'll be communicating with for years and years to come.
• A wonderful aunt who has been much closer than any aunt to me my whole life.  (It's always nice to know you have someone like that in your corner.)
• And then, of course, all the physical things: home, health, food, clothing. . .  God provides!

And, for those looking for good recipe's, here's what was on the menu:

• Roast turkey (of course).
• Crock-Pot Stuffing.
• Philadelphia Potatoes (used full fat cream cheese and half-n-half).
• Sweet Potatoes (from a can) with this Pecan Marshmallow Streusel (I added some shredded coconut).
• Green Bean Casserole (always a must).
• Corn.
• Cranberry Salad (one can cranberry sauce + chopped apple or orange + cinnamon or nutmeg + chopped pecans, walnuts, or celery + apple juice or orange juice + strawberry jam).
• Green Goop (an L family tradition) (a small tub of Cool Whip + a small can of crushed pineapple + a package of pistachio pudding mix).
• Delicious Pumpkin Bread.
• Apple pie from our wonderful neighbors.
• Pumpkin Pie.
• Pecan Pie (from The Lady and Sons, Too! plus extra pecans).
• Pumpkin Cheese Ball with crackers.
• Lipton French Onion Dip with chips and pretzels.
• Curry Dip with veggies (I used sour cream instead of mayo and added extra curry powder -- we love curry).
• Sugar and Spice Dip with apple slices (a small tub of Cool Whip + 1/4c. Brown sugar + 1/4tsp. Cinnamon + Dash Nutmeg).

Phew!

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

Halloween came and went with much fun. . . and candy.  As I sit here typing I am sacrificing my teeth and figure for the sake of my children.  Ok, so, I'm really enjoying the easy access to a bucket-full of candy.  But I probably really am sacrificing my teeth and what is left of my figure.  The 10 boxes of Girl Scout cookies that Jason bought me are surely not helping either. 

Anyway, Halloween was fun from the get-go.  We had waffle jack-o-lanterns for breakfast (waffles with faces made of cut up sausage patties), fingers (cut up hot dogs tipped with mustard) and toes (baby carrots) for lunch, and worms and eyeballs (spaghetti and meatballs) for dinner -- all served with OJ on white grape juice ice cubes with gummy worms frozen in.

Everyone was eager to get to trick-or-treating after dinner.  So we threw the two kids together -- Gordon was Bob the Builder and Teeny was a chicken -- in record time and made it out the door shortly after the other neighborhood kids started out.  It was really the best Halloween experience I think I've ever had.  Living in town homes, you are naturally close to your neighbors, for better or worse.  Halloween night was one of the better times.  Since it was nice and surprisingly warm out, I sat out on the front steps with the baby and chatted with my many neighbors as Jason took the kids around a block or two.  When all the neighborhood kids returned they ran up and down the sidewalk burning off sugar as quickly as they put it in while the parents sat, chatted, and passed out candy.  It really was just plain enjoyable!

For All Saints Day we talked about heaven and who lives in heaven -- deep enough conversation for the young fry of this house.  And, of course, we had a pleasant candle light dinner. 

All Souls Day I talked with Gordon about my paternal grandfather -- his greatgrandpa -- who passed away when I was a freshman in college.  It was nice to share little stories -- pleasant memories -- with my son.  I told him about how my Grandpa took me to a pond to feed canned corn to the ducks and squirrels who would literally come right up and almost eat right out of your hand.  I told him how Grandpa called me Pumpkin and Dutchess.  I told him how Grandpa loved to fish more than just about anything else, but not as much as he loved doing things with his family.  He had his faults, as we all do; but he always seemed to me a generous man who just loved when he was able to put a smile on the face of one of his grandchildren.  I shared these and others, and Gordon even asked for more which made me realize just how important it is for me to be sure to tell my children family stories.  I need to tell any story I can remember being told as a child and then pass own my own as well.  I need to tell them over and over so as to help my children connect with their heritage . . . and provide them with stories to share with their own children one day.

So, our Halloween was not about ghosts and goblins and the Devil.  It was about God's protection, love, and provision.  It was about the hope we have of going to heaven to live with Jesus when we die.  It was about remembering the dead not as scary spirits but as dearly loved family with whom we share many fond memories.

All Saints Day -- Wednesday, November 1

It is important to drive home to our children the idea that Halloween celebrations are not just about candy and ghosts and goblins and jack-o-lanterns.  Just like Christmas and Easter, there really is a deeper meaning behind the festivities; so, just like Christmas and Easter, I recommend spreading out the Halloween celebration over a couple days to include All Saints Day and All Souls Day.  In the Catholic church, All Saints Day began as a day to remember all who have been martyred for their faith in Jesus Christ.  Eventually, the Catholic church began to include anyone who had died as a saint, whether canonized as a saint or not.  All Saints Day is sort of like Memorial Day.  On Memorial Day we honor the lives of all who died for our country, whether we know them or not.  On All Saints Day we honor the lives of those who died in service to the Lord, whether we know them or not.

All Saints Day offers us an opportunity to draw our children’s attention away from the gory pictures of death they may have seen recently at department store Halloween displays and focus it on eternal life with Christ.  Here are a few ideas to help you begin some important traditions on All Saints Day.

Well, I'm down one camping trip on my 101 in 1001 list!  Woo-Hoo!  Let me tell ya, I learned some lessons this weekend.

We set out Saturday morning in the cold and wet, ready to pitch a tent and enjoy the great outdoors.  Setting up camp went alright.  Gordon and Teeny set to running a muck around the immediate camp sites (in their defense, it has been over two months since they were able to "roam" in the wild. . . we do miss our country living).  It was so cold that I was left with the "feeling" that I needed to cling to Bud-Jack in order to provide him with body heat.  This made chasing children and helping Jason set up camp quite difficult and led to some very snippy behavior on the part of we adults.  The kids were yelled for, scolded, spanked and given the basic impression that they were really getting on the final nerves daddy and I.  What made this poor parental behavior even worse was the older couple at the site next to ours.  Of course, being the wonderful grandparent-type they were, they came over after dinner with Klondike bars for the kids.  The man told Jason, "But just for the kids.  The parents aren't being good."  Eh?  I'm hoping that was sarcasm.  We were snippy, not abusive.  Anyway, it was too cold for ice cream.

It got darker, colder, and more miserable with each passing minute.  We ran out of fuel for the lantern, couldn't find our fire starters, had no cash for firewood, wet firewood just doesn't burn well, and the kids still wanted to run off -- in the dark -- in the woods.  So we did what any American family does -- loaded up in the van to go to Wal-Mart.  But we couldn't find a Wal-Mart.  So, we argued and headed back to the camp.  Jason, as a gesture of good-will, stopped by a convenience store and bought me some Chubby Hubby ice cream (um, didn't I mention to him that I was freezing? still, it was thoughtful).  We got back to the camp, put Gordon in bed and dealt with a screaming Teeny.  We finally all climbed miserably into our cold tent, me with the baby and Jason with the two kids.  It was a miserable night on my end -- so cold, though Bud-Jack didn't seem to mind.  He had a right good time sleeping in the arms of Momma and making her expose her bare back to the freezing temperatures several times in the night.

Though exhausted the next morning, we had a great day.  We were so cold we scratched campfire breakfasts and ran to McD's for sausage biscuits.  After that we FOUND the Wal-Mart and then headed back to the camp for Gordon's first ever fishing trip (can you believe I left the camera at the camp site?).  Jason (I mean Gordon) caught 2 fish which Gordon proudly showed around the nearby playground for all other preschool boys and their parents to see.  The rest of the afternoon was spent playing on the recycled tire playground, cooking an early dinner of hotdogs and going back to the playground.  We ended the day on the appropriate note of smores and were happily talking of how nice this camping trip was and how it had warmed up nicely.  I was even eager to get to sleep. 

But I think the temperature plummetted like 30 degrees after I got in my sleeping bag, for I spent the entire night shivering, staring at the pattern of the moon light through the leaves, praying that Bud-Jack wouldn't wake, and thinking I was going to go insane due to the sheer torture of the cold.  Finally, at the first signs of dawn, I grabbed the baby and the keys and headed to the minivan for some heat. 

We packed quickly yesterday morning and got home by 10:00am.  But, we want to do it again.  We can too.  We learned some things.

1. If the temperature is not comfortable RENT A CABIN for an extra $25 a night.
2. Be prepared -- make sure you have fuel, starter logs, and good fire wood BEFORE you get to the camp.
3. Bring a walker for the baby as well as some baby toys.
4. Don't expect kids to want to do what you think they'll want to do.  Be prepared for playgrounds and lots of walks around the camp.
5. Camp near stuff to do.  While it is all well and good to talk of spending time in nature, lets be real.  An outing a day helps keep the running monkeys at bay.

Yes, we will be camping again soon.  We can't wait!

"If you have men who will exclude any of God's creatures from the shelter of compassion and pity, you will have men who will deal likewise with their fellow men."

St. Francis of Assisi

My St. Francis of Assisi Day was strangly appropriate in every way.  I was beginning to think, Tuesday night, that there would be little, if any celebrating at all.  I still had not managed to get my hands on birdseed, and since we have no pets of our own right now, I was resigning myself to a scary trip to the lake to feed the swarms of bold fowl that, upon sight of bread, terrorize young mothers such as myself.  But, my good husband, on a trip to the store to spoil me with some chocolate icecream, also picked up some parakeet feed.  Yes, that is what you get when you buy birdfood at a grocery store, but I'm grateful.

So yesterday morning I sat down with the kids to make various birdfeeders.  They coated icecream cones (I think I'm beginning to sound like an icecream addict here.  I am.) with peanut butter and rolled them in birdseed and we hung them from the bushes out back along with a milk carton birdfeeder that we hung from a tree.

I thought this was the end of "being kind to wild creatures," but was quickly struck with the scary truth that my home had been invaded by a few little animals!  My kids!  They spent most of the afternoon acting like monkey-lion-kangaroo-elephants.  They ran around, jumped and climbed on me, hung from my arms and hips, yelled, stomped, ran and all other assortment of wild-animal behavior.  I'll admit it, I lost it at one point.  My back ached from holding my "little monkey" Bud-Jack along with the weight of his chimp brother Gordon pulling on his little arms and legs and making, literally, monkey noises.  So, I yelled.  Fortunately, Jason was home by that time, so I was granted a few short minutes to retreat to the master bedroom with the "little monkey" for a some quiet and recuperation.

When I came out, we finished off our St. Francis of Assisi day with a very appropriate trip to. . . Outdoor World (aka Cabella's) where Gordon looked in awe at stuffed and mounted animals and Teeny exclaimed repeatedly, "There's a deer in here!  There's a bear in here!"

Sort of like I had been exclaiming just a few short hours before, "There's a monkey in here!  No, wait, there's three of them!"

Lord, help me to remember to have compassion on these little critters You have blessed me with.  Help me to remember that "little monkeys" have feelings too, very sensitive feelings, feelings that should always be considered before I speak (or shout).

**Edited to add:  Maybe Cabella's wasn't so appropriate.  I somehow doubt that St. Francis would have frequented a hunting/fishing store to view mounted carcasses.  Hmmm.

Well, my wonderful husband once praised my "cute little family traditions" and asked for more.  He also stressed to me that he would cease to feel so wonderfully about said traditions if at any point they began to rule the house and stress us out.

So, when he had different plans for our weekend, I began to figure out how to rearrange my plans so we could do what he wanted and still have a roast chicken and a dragon cake.  When it became obvious that this would not happen, I quietly and willingly and even joyfully "gave it up."

So, what DID we do this weekend, you may ask.  Gee, don't even know that I remember.  Friday we did some grocery shopping and then stayed up with the kids eating donuts and goldfish crackers and watching Curious George.  Saturday, we spent much of the day figuring out what to do out of doors in the drizzle and settled on chicken wings for lunch followed by a long exploratory afternoon drive and an easy dinner in the evening.  Sunday we had church followed by a church picnic that lasted most of the afternoon and left us too pooped to do much more than bum around last night. 

I love celebrating Michaelmas -- it is a favorite of mine, but I can't say I regret the decision to forgo the tradition this year.  I think the tradition of honoring one's husband is far better and more rewarding anyhow.

Unless you are a Jane Austen buff (or from the British Isles), you probably don’t know what Michaelmas is and, most certainly, hold no family traditions on this day.  If you are Catholic, chances go up when you realize that Michaelmas refers to the feast day of St. Michael the archangel.  So, for all the American protestants out there, this mini-lesson is for you. 

Michaelmas is the British term for the feast day of St. Michael – who is actually not a saint at all, he is an archangel.  The term Michaelmas in Jane Austen literature refers to one of a couple set dates upon which the upper class divided their year into “seasons” – not seasons of weather, seasons of social responsibilities. 

However, there is more to Michaelmas than moving from country home to city town house (or vise versa).  According to Revelation 12, it is Michael the archangel (St. Michael) who, in the last days, will lead the angels of heaven in a victorious battle against Satan (“the dragon”) and his army.  Due to this passage of Scripture, Michael is sometimes thought of as the “defender of the church” and consequently as the nemesis of Satan. In fact, through the ages, people have developed the story that it was Michael whom God had kick Satan out of heaven.  So, we have the story of St. Michael in Revelation 12 which led to the theory that Michael physically kicked Satan out of heaven under the order of God; and all this led to the old wives tale that when Michael kicked Satan out of heaven, Satan landed in a blackberry bush and now curses them every year at Michaelmas.

Can’t you just see the opportunity for a fun celebration with the kids?  Can’t you imagine all the little traditions you could come up with for Michaelmas?  Click here to go to my Tradition blog and find some ideas to help you begin some Michaelmas traditions with your kids.

Our First of Autumn was full of fun!  I won't say we'll ever go this route again, but it was nice to do once.

We found an apple farm outside the city that was having a fall fest over the weekend.  We took the kids (who were so excited to be going to a farm) and paid the price to get into the activity area.  The kids had a great, exhausting time running around wherever their fancies carried them.  They fed goats and sheep and looked at chickens and ducks, they rode play-tractors, they ran through a big balloon-like barn slide thing again and again and again, they got lost in a huge hay maze -- so many times I got really tired of looking for them, they went on a hay ride around an apple orchard, they went down a huge hill-side slide, had cider donuts and cider slushes while dancing to bluegrass music, and topped it all off with picking a pumpkin a piece to bring home and set on the kitchen table. 

The kids truly had a great time, I believe, though Jason and I have agreed that "next time" we will look to avoid the farm with the fall fest and just take the kids to a pick-your-own farm to pick apples.  What can I say, we boring adults are beginning to crave that sort of simplicity.

We were planning on a fall feast Saturday evening; but my good husband, wanting me to relax after the long day, bought some wings to fry up instead -- said we'd feast on Sunday.  Well, Sunday didn't work either as I woke up unusually exhausted.  Jason knew it and, after church, took us to a cheap pizza buffet for lunch after which we went looking for milk frothers and fall clothes for the boys.  When we got home, we only had time for quick sandwiches for dinner.  

So, yesterday we reluctantly ended our First of Autumn celebrations with a scrumptious dinner of Harvest Stew, Pillsbury French loaf with butter, apple cider, and French apple pie and butter pecan ice cream.  Heavenly!

A certain feeling grabs me in the autumn.  It is a sort of wonderful melancholy that stirs up every time I smell burning leaves or cinnamon.  It comes over me at the mere sight of colored leaves, sweaters, and pumpkins.  It sends a chill down my spine as each day gets a little colder and a little closer to winter.  There is just something magical about this season, and on her “birthday” we celebrate in a special way.

Children.  They sure can throw you for a loop, can't they?

Jason's mom is visiting for the week, so our Grandparents Day began, appropriately, with the kids playing and eating breakfast with their "GingGing."  One would have taken this as a good sign, and I suppose it was.  However, my kids were more interested in playing then in making phone calls.

Attempt one was a call to my parents in which both Gordon and Teeny would only say, "Hello."  That's right, just a brief, ''Hello," followed by a look of, "I know you want me to say more, but it is so fun to irritate you like this."

Lunch was great -- roast chicken and the fixins followed by my made-from-scratch carrot cake and cream cheese frosting.  Gordon gave "GingGing" her homemade beaded keychain (which he, of course, told her about the minute they picked her up from the airport the day before).  After lunch we went down to the Annapolis harbor and the Naval Academy to walk around and feed the ducks.

Enter call two during which Gordon REFUSED to talk to Jason's dad.  Feeding ducks is much more important, really.

That evening we came home for sandwiches and chips. . . and another try at calling Jason's dad.  This time Gordon consented, as it was the only alternative to bedtime, and actually had a decent conversation. . . but Teeny just giggled.

Oh, well, I don't guess the grandparents will complain.  After all, grandparents have been through the toddler years before.  They know how it can be, and they love their grandkids more than we'll ever know in spite of it all.

You don’t have to have been born and raised in the Catholic church to know who St. Francis of Assisi is.  He’s the guy who’s statue you often see in gardens and parks.  You know, the one with birds and little animals surrounding him.  St. Francis is, after all, the patron saint of animals.  While St. Francis serves as an example of the humane treatment of animals, he also shows us the most satisfying way to use our money and possessions.  Many might describe the young St. Francis as a bit of a spoiled brat.  His parents gave him anything he wanted, and he was left with nothing to do but spend, spend, spend and squander away money.  However, a change of heart led him to give, give, give and replace his self-indulgence with caring for the needy.

I’m certain you can come up with some great family traditions of your own to celebrate on this day.  Click here to find out some of my favorites.

*Image courtesy of allposters.com

I'd call our Labor Day weekend a pleasant one.  Joined by my good friend, Misty, we spent the weekend relaxing, eating, and sight-seeing.  New to the area, we finally made it over to walk around historic Annapolis.  We had the best time, reminiscing together and enjoying the sights.  Gordon and Teeny pointed out every man and woman in uniform, shouting with delight.  They spent a fair amount of time playing barefoot in puddles and feeding ducks at the harbor that had flooded over thanks to Ernesto.  And, of course, what afternoon waterfront excursion would be complete without a trip to the ice cream parlor!

My friend left Sunday afternoon, leaving just the five of us to finish up our long weekend.  Jason spent the rest of the afternoon building a huge sandbox for the kids.  It looks great, and the Gordon and Teeny have enjoyed it so much.  They have already spent, literally, hours playing, digging, building, and burying. 

While enjoying the outdoors and the new addition to the back yard on Monday, Jason happened to say that it was Labor Day.  Gordon suddenly realized what that meant and became so excited that he just started pouring out all our little secrets to Daddy.  I tried to stop him, but he got so tickled at my reaction and was so excited to give Daddy his presents, that he just kept on.  "We got (he he) something to give (he he) We made (ha ha) We have to give (ha ha ha) Keychains!"  So, my plans were ruined in one sense, but I'm sure Jason enjoyed the spontaneous enthusiasm that accompanied his Labor Day thank you notes and gifts.

We finished off the weekend with chicken wings, ice cream, and a walk (in the rain, no less) to the park.  I don't think we could have asked for a better or more memorable time.

In the late 1970’s, Grandparent’s Day sprang from a small-town idea to an official National Holiday.  But even 30 years has neglected to do this holiday and its celebration justice.  While I have begun to see more “Grandparent’s Day” cards on the shelves of stores in recent Septembers, I have not seen or heard much more than those few, often overly-sentimental greetings.   I think this is due, in part, to some confusion as to how to celebrate this day and why it is important.  Grandparent’s Day, in a nut-shell, was intended to be a day on which to forge a deeper relationship between grandparents and grandchildren of all ages.  Grandparents should take the time to impart wisdom to their grandchildren, and grandchildren should spend this day honoring and giving some much-deserved attention to their grandparents.

So, as parents, how can we institute some great new “Grandparent’s Day” traditions for ourselves, our children, and all the grandparents and great-grandparents in the family? 

Click here to find out.

Labor Day is typically full of family gatherings, grilled hotdogs and hamburgers, salads, that last day at the dock or shore, kids playing outside while we parents do outdoor housework. . .  Everyone has their traditions, but how many of them have to do with the meaning of the holiday?  Labor Day is, after all, a day to “remember” those who labor or work for a living.  While some are given the day off, it is debatable whether those fortunate people actually take the day to really rest.  It is even more debatable how many of the SAHMs or children reflect on all that they are blessed with because of someone else’s willingness to earn a living to support the household.

So, how does one make Labor Day a truly special day for the official “laborer” of the house? 

Click here to find out.