Uncategorized

For the last six months he’s been in training.  He’s met every challenge, every plate, every fork, resisted every desire to push away from the table.

Six months of “You can do it!”

Six months of “You are SO close!”

Six months of “Think ‘Sky Rush’ !”

For six months, Operation Twizzler has been in effect.

It’s mission:  To reach the required height of Twizzler status for Hershey Park so Critter can ride the big roller coasters, including the new SKY RUSH.

Every milestone towards it has been diligently recorded.  Every possible fatty food has been stocked and consumed.

He hates eating.  Eating is an obstacle to everything he wants to be doing:  Playing.

How this came from my body, I have no idea.  The whole family is scratching their heads on this one.

Last weekend we went to Hershey for our annual Holiday Dinner and Musical at the Hershey Lodge.  We enjoyed the show, went to bed in the incredibly clean and cozy beds there, and then the next day, ran off to the park itself.

We were hoping he’d come close enough to attain it.  We were so sure he would not have to wait yet another season.

The moment we’d all been waiting for had come.  He took a breath.  Straightened his thin shoulders, puffed his hair up as high as it would go, and walked over to the measuring board:

DOH!

SO Close!  SO STINKING CLOSE!!!

We all cringed!  HOW could this happen?!  How could God let this happen???!!

He took it in stride.  This boy who suffers daily in school at the hands of other 9 and 10-year-old, much larger, boys.  This boy who, though smart as a whip, funny as a clown, energetic as the Tasmanian Devil, and creative as Gallagher…this boy who constantly faces the derision of his peers for his diminutive stature.

As a mother, I want nothing more but for him to be happy, no matter WHAT his appearance.  But I know how the culture of growing boys in school is, and I know he suffers the brunt of it.  It’s made him Scrappy as all get out…which will probably serve him well in life, considering he has inherited his mother’s habit of blurting out exactly what is on her mind.

And all he wanted to do this day was be able to claim the title of “Twizzler.”

One day, Critter.

One day you will attain it.  If I have to break into Hershey and repaint that measuring board, as God as my witness, you WILL attain it.

If you need me, I’m off to the grocery store to buy more cheese, whole milk, and candy bars.  Operation Twizzler is still in effect.

WHAT in the name of all that is good and right and holy is this thing supposed to be???

I have no idea.  But I’ll tell you one thing,

It sure as heck ain’t no cotton-pickin’ dagum Moose!  That is what is surely is NOT.

Unless it’s from Whoo-ville or something.

Look at his freakishly upside-down antlers.   Just look at them!  Were the costume designers on crack when they sewed this thing?

I don’t know much, I’ll give you that.  In fact, some people wonder how I manage to remember to walk and breathe at the same time.  But the one thing I DO know is Meeses.  And that thing is NOT one.

Nope.

No Sirreee.

It would be the end of the world, as she knew it.

Nothing could divert the course of destiny at this point.  There would be no sudden game-changer now.

She had no choice but to accept the end.

But this last time…..this last time she could savor, remembering every last detail, every last emotion that went with it.

Oh but to be able to change the future!  To be able to turn things around.  What she wouldn’t do to be able to.

But there was no use to ponder it.  She couldn’t change the course of things.  She must accept the new reality, and learn to live on despite its shortcomings.

Life can be so hard.

Her last Twinkie.

Note the reverence…..

My dear friend, Leslie, presented My Captain and I with the very beautiful gift of a hand-crocheted blanket around Thanksgiving.  It has lain on the back of my favorite wingback Laz-y-boy chair, where the cat and I have violently fought over it, ever since.

I love this blanket.  It’s the kind of blanket you cuddle under with a Critter, before bedtime.

It’s the kind of blanket you read ‘Dragon’s Christmas’ under, when you’re in your Red Snowflake Flannel Pajamas.  (NOT from Frederick’s of Hollywood.)

It’s the kind of blanket you snuggle under when you’re receiving a kiss from your Critter, for no reason other than opportunity knocking.

Mom, we’re not alone.

Everyone should have a Leslie Blanket.  It’s the building block to any good snuggle.

Get your’s today!

The day dawned gloriously sunny; there wasn’t a moment to lose.

We had a happy mission before us!  So we rushed over the river and through the woods, picked up Grandma Jane, and then made our way to Mayne’s Christmas Tree Farm .

Our object: to hunt down, kill, and retrieve a this year’s Tantembaum.

“Ok,” you think.  “So what?”

Hang on, friends!  Hang on!  This was a special gift, you see.  This was no ordinary tree cutting.

Because our 9-year-old Critter was absolutely SET on cutting down his grandmother’s tree.

Grandma Jane, God Bless Her, was patient, and willing and after she had chosen the perfect tree, just sat down on the grass to let her Critter have his way.  He wanted to cut down his Grandmother’s Christmas Tree, and By God, he was going to do it!

They discussed the how’s and wherefores.

They strategized the cut.

They considered possible pit-falls.

And he laid out his plan of action.

And then he got out his trusty Multi-Tool with 3″ saw blade from Canada.

And got down to business.

He had no illusions that this would be a quick job.

Though he probably didn’t count on all the sap he would be getting in his hair.

And he probably wished it weren’t so uncomfortable.

But his family was there to encourage him and that motivated him tremendously.

Though to be fair to them, it was a trial in patience and perseverance for everyone.

And eventually he had to admit that he’d need to use My Captain’s big-boy saw.

And My Captain had to help him out with that a bit, but just a bit!

And in the end, with a little push from My Captain….

It came down.

And Grandma Jane?  She won’t forget this particular Christmas gift any time soon.

Or the moment’s leading up to it.

Merry Christmas, Mom!  We love you!