Kids
I was at the hospital yesterday, bringing my father-in-law, who had been in the hospital for surgery, home. A nurse on the floor, who was not his nurse, and so didn’t know his last name, came in to see if the transport team member needed any assistance. When he said he didn’t, she looked at me and said, “You’re Amy’s mom aren’t you?” I laughed and said, “Yes, I am.” She told me that she had gone to school with Amy and asked me to tell her hello.
As I was leaving the hospital, I thought back to the first time someone had asked me that question. Amy was in Kindergarten and I was volunteering at the school, doing throat cultures to check for Strep Throat. As I walked into the nurses office to get my supplies ready, I saw two little girls sitting on the bed. One of them had apparently scraped her knee, and the other one was there for moral support. The little girl who was there with her hurt friend, said, “Are you Amy’s mom?” When I said that I was, the hurt little girl said, “Amy who?” The first girl said, “You know!!! Amy Sugarberry!!” That encounter put a smile on my face the rest of the day.
I have been told many times that Amy looks like me, although that is not alwyas something I can see. It must be so, however, because in recent months, I have had several people who know that I am Amy’s mom, tell me that I really look like her. Still it is surprising to have someone who doesn’t know me as Amy’s mom already, be able to just pull her name 
out of the hat when they see me. It really brings to light that we look very much alike.
I have always known that I bear a strong family resemblance, because I have had people recognize me as being my sisters’ sister many years after the graduated from high school, and ask me if I am my dad’s daughter, when it has been years since they have seen him. I guess with that said, I should not be surprised when they can see a strong resemblance between my daughter and me. Nevertheless, I find myself still amazed that even after all these years, I am still known as Amy’s mom!
When Amy was 3 months old, we found out that she would probably never reach 5 feet. I know that at 3 months that hardly seems like something anyone could predict, but she had not grown at all since she was 6 weeks old, and my doctor being a seasoned pediatrician, and after examining her, concluded that, “If she reached 5 feet, he would be surprised. Well, he was right, and today my little girl is a 4 foot 11 inch adult. But don’t think she is a wimp, because you would be wrong.
Amy had her little blond moments as a child, like the time she brought the outfit she wanted to wear out to the kitchen and put it on. Then she started looking around for something…all over the kitchen. Finally I said, “What are you looking for?” She answered, “My shirt!!” I answered, “You have it on!!” She looked down in total surprise to find the shirt on, just like I had said. She did have her blond moments.
And then there was the time that we were walking into Kmart. Amy was about 3 or so. She was just ahead of me as we walked through the parking lot, and she always had a tendency to look behind her or around herself and she walked forward. So, suddenly I hollered to her to look where she was going, but it was too late…Amy walked right into the bumper of a parked car. She wasn’t hurt, but I found myself having a hard time not laughing about it.
All kidding aside though, our little blond is a very capable, and really not blond-like most of the time, adult, who is a great help to me. I might tease her a little, but I don’t know what I would ever do without her. Amy and her sister are two people I can count on…no matter what I have to ask them to do. The life of a caregiver, which both of my daughters are, is a tough one, and those who have not been there, don’t understand. Many people would not take on the challenges of caregiving, but when the needs arose, my girls were there for 
me, and their grandparents, on both sides. They know what it takes, and they don’t give up. Ever!! That is…priceless!! I know that those commercials are done in a joking way, but really, all joking aside…my girls are priceless!!
When they say that big things can come in small packages, it was Amy that they had in mind. And I am so blessed. How could I have been so blessed? It is a question for which there is no answer. Today is our precious little blond’s birthday, and I can’t say enough about what a wonderful honor it is to be her mom. Happy birthday dear Amy!! We love you very much!!
One memory from when I was little is of Grandpa’s rocks. He had many of them, because he was a rock collector. Grandpa went many places to find his rocks…and no place at all. That’s because great rocks could be found just about anywhere, and you never really knew what they could look like until you put then in a rock tumbler and polished them up. Then, even the rock that had seemed so plain, could turn into a beautiful stone. To find that special rock, you had to have an eye for it, and my grandpa really had an eye for it.
He had some beauties. I always wondered how he could find so many beautiful stones…and where he could find them. I liked to looks for pretty rocks too, but aside from an agate or two, I never really turned up much that was very pretty, much less stunning, like his were. Of course, I didn’t have a rock tumbler to bring out the beauty, but still, I’m not sure that I would have had the eye for the rock that had the potential to become a beautiful stone.
Grandpa spent years looking for rocks…possibly his entire life. I can picture him as a little boy, looking around and finding a rock here and there that had touches of color in them. Maybe some pinks or whites mixed in with the gray or black that most of us see. When I think of rocks, they are all plain and ugly, but I have to wonder how many beauties I passed up because my mind couldn’t see inside the rock…couldn’t see the rock’s potential, but Grandpa could see it. He could see inside the rocks…see their potential, and he knew how to bring the inside of the rock out and turn it into a beautiful stone.
It was almost as if Grandpa knew how to talk to the rocks…coax the beautiful stone out of 
the simple gray or black rock. Maybe it’s just because he was able to see the beauty in many things. Grandpa had so much love to give. And he wanted to share his love of nature with his family. They would go on rock hunting treks. The kids got to do what so many kids would love to do…hunt rocks and bring them home. And nobody stopped them from bringing their treasures home…and then he could take those treasures and turn them into something more. Of course, I don’t suppose Grandpa had a rock tumbler back in those days, still a little water could bring out the different colors in an otherwise Plain Jane of a rock, I’m sure. Eventually, with the invention of the rock tumbler, Grandpa was able to show the rest of us what he was always able to see…the beauty that lies inside of the rock.
As summer begins, the thoughts of most kids turn to their favorite summertime activity…swimming. And swimming knows no age limit…young and old alike love to go swimming. When I was a little kid, we occasionally got to go to the park next to the grade school. There was a wading pool there, where all kids who couldn’t swim yet went to cool off in the summertime…and it was always packed. There was hardly any room to move sometimes, but it was cool and the day was hot, so you didn’t complain. That wading pool has long since been removed…partly because of some drain safety issues that we never had problems with, but I guess there were some in some other pools, and partly because of so many people buying the backyard wading pool. The backyard wading pool was just easier.
By the time my girls were born, there were no wading pools in town. We got them a wading pool as soon as they were old enough to walk, because it gave them something to do in the summer. We lived out in the country, and going to town for activities was a wasted day. They didn’t care about going to town, as long as they could play in their pool. The girls would spend hours out in that pool, and come in looking like prunes, but they always had such a good time. I think I loved the wading pool as much as they did, because is was a wonderful entertainer. All too soon though, the backyard wading pool became old news, and they wanted to go to the big pool in town…not that I can blame them, it was just that it meant that I had to make the trip to town to take them.
The backyard wading pool has never lost its charm, however. When my grandchildren were born, we found ourselves back in wading pool mode very quickly. It was great watching the grandkids play in their pool and having such a great time. The wading pools of today are much cooler that the ones we had when my girls were little. They have slides and other fancy things built into them. If we wanted a slide, we had to put the pool near our swing set. It worked, but today you don’t have to do that. I have often wondered how we ever managed without those pools, and how kids ever survived the hot summers. I guess we did have the sprinkler, but I don’t think it could really compare to the backyard wading pool.
Today is the last day of school in Casper. Some places go longer, and maybe some are out earlier, but for Casper, today is it. All the students are excitedly anticipating the end of the day that marks the beginning of summer vacation and…freedom!! I remember when I was in school, that last day seemed like the longest day of the year, and I liked school, so for kids who didn’t, it was worse…an eternity. The teachers spent most of the day wondering why they even had to come today, because other than the high school students who had finals, most of the classes consisted of watching movies, playing games, or picnics. The students have no books…those have been turned in, so the teacher couldn’t do any real lessons, and the students couldn’t study. It was and still is a wasted day, but the reality is that no matter what day is the last day, the result would be the same.
So, today is the last day. Some of my grandchildren finished up yesterday. Those who didn’t have finals today were able to skip today, and one who was just going to be watching movies didn’t go so his family could start the Memorial Day weekend early by going camping. There were a few kids that didn’t go the last day when I was in school too, and it fueled the whole “why do we even have to go today” syndrome in those of us who were left behind to complete the year. It makes sense to the adults that it doesn’t matter what day is the last day, it is a wasted day, but to the kids…especially the younger ones, it just doesn’t make sense.
As the school year ends, we are reminded that next year we will have 2 Juniors in high school, 1 Sophomore in high school, and on 8th grader in middle school. Where have the years gone? How can my little teeny grandbabies be such grown up people already? It is a stark reminder that time waits for no man…it simple marches on. Before we know it, these kids will be high school graduates, and out in the world, going forward to make their own way in it. We don’t know where their path will take them. Some of them have ideas and goals. Others don’t, and may not until they are graduates. Sometimes, life experiences show people without a doubt that they are perfect for one career or another, sometimes they have to explore some first. Time will tell.
But for today, they are simply moving into summer vacation and rejoicing in the chance to sit back and relax a little. Chris and Shai will be working this summer, of course, and 
Caalab will probably get a job when he turns 15 on the 25th of June. Josh will be the only one that doesn’t have a job yet, but I know he will do odd jobs for extra spending money, because that is the way he is too. As for the school year…well, for the summer at least it will have a distant place in the back of their minds…stored away until the fall, because this year is over. The clock moves forward to the final bell for this year…and it’s a wrap!!
A client was in my office yesterday with his little granddaughter. When he gave her a kiss, his whiskers rubbed on her cheek, causing her to make a face. When he told us why she had made the face, it took me back about four to five decades. Back to when I was a kid, and my dad used to play with my sisters and me by giving us whisker rubs. It was something Dad did when he was in a playful mood. He would come home from work, and we would gather around to greet him. Dad always loved to tease, and see if he could put a smile on our faces after his long day at work.
Dad’s 5 o’clock shadow would always scratch us when he would kiss us hello, and I suppose that was how it got started. Just like my clients little granddaughter, making a face at the scratchiness of her grandpa’s face, we probably made the same face. My guess would be that he thought our little face was so funny that he did it again to see that funny little face that looks a bit like a kid who just ate lemons. After a while, it became kind of like the “tickle torture” we had used on our sister, Caryl…a “weapon” used without warning to get a rise out of us.
I suppose people might wonder why such an act would be continued after the first time. Well, the answer would lie in the fact that after Dad would finish giving us the whisker rub, we would invariably say, “Do that again, Daddy!!” It was always a fun little goofy thing we had with Dad, and as we grew older, and had children of our own, they too, were introduced to the whisker rub. No one was exempt, nor did they want to be, because to be 
exempt, would have been to be left out of the fun.
My dad was a great dad and a great kidder. He brought fun and laughter to our home, and made each of his girls feel like princesses. We were so blessed. Family was the most important thing to him. He had so much love to give, and such a good heart. He was always doing fun little things to bring a smile to our faces and sunshine to the day. I miss those days…especially when I see a dad or grandpa playing with their little one or even accidentally doing something similar to the playful things my dad did…like the whisker rub!!!
Every kid goes through times when they wish they were bigger…grown up. They do everything they can think of to look more grown up. It’s just normal I guess…but the funniest thing is when they try on the shoes of the adults in their lives…especially the boots of their dad or grandpa. I’m not sure what it is about those boots, but they just seem to love wearing them. And it isn’t just limited to the boys. The girls want in on the action too. They just love walking around in those shoes that are huge on them.
They stagger around the room trying not to fall…trying to see if they can really make these big boots keep going in the same 
direction, because usually they want to go in opposite directions, making it very difficult to walk…and very funny. Trying to stand back up after falling down is even funnier. In boots that cover almost the entire leg sometimes, standing back up is really a bit of a trick…especially if the child happens to be a bit younger, and therefore shorter.
This fascination with Dad’s or Grandpa’s boots is one of the sweetest things kids try to mimic, because it shows how much they love their dad or grandpa. They say “imitation is the sincerest form of flattery”, and that is exactly what they are doing. There is very little that kids miss, and they want to be just like those people the love so much…all the more reason to watch what we say or do, because we might be a negative influence if we don’t, and wouldn’t you rather be the kind of person that you are proud to watch your children or grandchildren become.
Is I watched these little ones over the years learning to walk and 
then trying new things, it was like those boots, when they first tried something new, they weren’t experts at it by any means. Still, with the same perseverance that they used in trying to learn to walk in those big boots, they kept at the new thing they were trying, until they became experts. All of these kids are either grown up or almost there, and I must say that each is very different from the others, which is not unusual in that Jessie is my niece, Barry is my nephew, and Chris is my grandson, but each of them knows how to succeed in whatever they try. I don’t think that it was those boots that have made them a success, but rather the fact that they had in themselves, the drive to succeed that made them master those boots, before they were old enough to have the boots fit them.
Xander is the son of my niece, Jenny and her husband Steve. He is their oldest child. As the oldest child, he takes his responsibilities very seriously. He tries very hard to make sure his little brothers stay in line…or is that called wrestling. No matter…whatever it is called, Xander is the big brother in charge, and at least for now he has his little brothers believing that. It doesn’t make them stop trying to take him though, because that is just what boys do. And these three boys are among the toughest guys around. I have watched them wrestling around, and the last words you will hear from them is “I give up” because they just don’t.
Xander also loves to go shooting with his parents and brothers. His parents have taught him and his brothers about gun safety and proper respect for guns. The boys know how to shoot, and they know that a gun is not a toy, but a weapon that can kill if used improperly. They would never use a gun improperly.
Xander reminds me so much of his dad. Steve is a strong man, but inside, he is very different. There is a kindness there, combined with love and loyalty. That is how Xander is. He feels any hurt his parents are going through very deeply. He tries to protect them from hurt or pain. He feels loss deeply as well, and he tries to figure out a way to make things right…or at least better, if there is no solution.
As I said, Xander is very much like his dad…which means that while he is a tough guy on the outside…on the inside he is a big teddy bear. Recently at school, he was named star 
student. That meant that he got to go to the front of the line…he and any other star student. Of course, there is only room for one person at the head of the line, and Xander was there first. Then a girl said, “I want to be first! I’m a star student too!” Xander quickly responded, “Of course…ladies first!” Not only was the little girl happy, but Xanders teacher was surprised and very pleased. She told Xander’s mom, my niece, Jenny that she was very pleased and proud of him. She said that his good upbringing really showed. It was such a proud moment for Jenny and Steve, and when I heard about it, I felt very proud to be his great aunt too. Today is Xander’s 9th birthday!! Happy birthday Xander!! We love you very much!!
A number of years ago, 1979 to be exact, when Bob’s parents were still living out in the country, the guys had a permit to cut down some dead trees in the Shirley Mountains. A bunch of us made several trips up and spent the day cutting and loading those trees onto the flatbed trailer my father-in-law owned. It was always a project that took the whole day, and plenty of help. We came back with several good sized loads of wood. Then came the real work. Cutting all that wood into usable sizes to burn in our wood stoves took many days.
At that time, my father-in-law had a big buzz saw to cut the wood with. It took two people to get the wood on the table that ran the log to the saw. One day, Bob and his dad were working on cutting the wood, and since we lived on the same property at the time, because our land wasn’t ready to move onto yet, our kids were there too. They loved being around all the activity that went on at their grandparent’s house. From raising a couple of cows to cutting wood, there was always something going on.
Corrie had come down to the wood pile to watch the cutting process…or maybe to be the supervisor. It was really the only job a little girl of 4 years could do, so they set her up on one of the bigger logs that had been cut, and she supervised the whole project for quite a while. I’m quite sure that in between all the sawing, Corrie probably talked the guys’ ears off too, if I know my girl. Corrie has always been an organizer…even as a little girl, when she tried to straighten a neighbor’s counter up, because it was a little unorganized. As a supervisor, Corrie was simply in her element.
Of course, at 4 years old, Corrie got bored with the work world, and decided that it was time for a break. That happened about the time that the cat, Dusty showed up and seemed to need a little bit of attention. Corrie decided that she would have to be the one 
to entertain Dusty and keep her out of trouble, because as we all know, cats tend to get in the way of the work. They always want to rub up against you, and that simply won’t do when the men are trying to cut wood. Dusty could be in real danger of getting stepped on. Eventually, Corrie would go back to her supervisory job, but only when Dusty decided that it was time to go find something to eat, and a nice shady place to nap.
When my niece, Andrea was a little girl, she was a sweet, smiley girl who had cute little blond curls. When Andrea was little, my sister, Caryl and her then husband, Warren lived in several other states, because he was in the Navy. We didn’t get to see much of Andrea or her brother, Allen, but when Warren had to go on the long cruises required by the Navy, Caryl would often come back to Casper for a few months to a year at a time. One time, I was babysitting Andrea while her mom worked at the hospital, and I had to go bowling, so Andrea went with me. She was such a sweetheart. She sat quietly and watched me bowl. I guess it fascinated her, because she watched every frame, and she was only about 2 or 3 years old at the time.
As Andrea grew up, she found that she had a heart for the disabled and down trodden. She never liked seeing people who were unable to defend themselves, being picked on. When she was in high school, she had the opportunity to work with a group of developmentally disabled children, and she found that it was her calling. She decided that she would love to go into counseling or working with the developmentally disabled citizens in some other capacity. It is a noble calling, and one that few people take to. It takes a very special person to go into that field, but I believe that Andrea will be good at it, or any other career she chooses. And the people she works with will find themselves quite blessed because of her skills.
On June 28, 2005, Andrea gave birth to her son Christopher. He has and always will be the most important thing in her life. He is the love of her life, and they have so many great times together. They are always goofing off together, and I really love being able to see the silly pictures of the two of them. They don’t live here, so we don’t get to see them as often as we would like, but she takes pictures of them often, and posts them a lot. Christopher, nicknamed “Topher” has begun to follow in his mother’s footsteps, at least on the funny side of life. And from the looks of things, the funny side of life is a great place to be. Happy birthday Andrea and Happy Mother’s Day too. I hope you have a great day. Love you!!
