For most of my childhood, my Grandma (my mom's mom) lived in Iowa. She married Grandpa Bud when I was about 6 years old and moved to Cedar Rapids, Iowa. I remember the day it finally clicked with my little sister that Grandma lived in Cedar Rapids...not See the Rabbits.
Grandma is the one who taught me to crochet. I was seven. Every visit I would dutifully make sure I brought my crocheting hooks and some yarn so I could sit next to Grandma on the couch and watch her hands fly making stitches while I patiently waited for my hands to learn to move just as fast.
Grandma always made our favorite foods when we visited--homemade ice-cream, chicken salad, cookies, cucumber salad, roasted mushrooms. She also had itty-bitty cans of soda, which I was so excited about.
Grandma remembered the names of my friends, what I did as extra-curricular at school, and what books I'd been reading. She brought little gifts when she visited--yarn, newspaper clippings she thought we should read, books, pictures, treats--things that she saw and thought of us.
My Mama (Grandma's mom) lived in Florida my entire growing up. We didn't get to see her very often, but my parents made sure we made trips every 3 years or so to see her.
Mama and I were pen pals as soon as I could write sentences. Every other week I'd either be mailing or receiving a letter. When we visited, Mama made root beer floats. She'd show us quilts she was making or afghans she was crocheting. She'd bring out old pictures and tell us stories about when my mom was a baby (which was so hard to visualize!) and stories of the Papa (her husband) that we never got to meet because he died before I was born. When Mama moved to Illinois in 2003, we'd visit her at the nursing home and Elisabeth would entertain her with dancing and songs. She lived to be 94 years old. She had the softest skin and the prettiest hair.
When I was little, I wrote a story about my Mom. In it I said she was over 7 feet tall. Since she is barely over 5 feet, she must have liked feeling tall for once.
One of my first memories involving my mom was when I was three. (I think I might have shared this with you all already before) It was bath time and my little sister, Terra, was crying from our bedroom. My mom told me to take all my clothes off and wait for her before I climbed in the tub. I was almost done taking my clothes off, when my mom brought the cranky Terra into the bathroom and told me to get in the tub. I looked down at my socked feet and said, "But, Mom..." "Ginny, I said get in the tub." Ever the diligent child, I got in the tub, with my socks on. As my mom started shampooing my hair, she looked at my feet. "I tried to tell you my socks were still on." I got to take the entire bath with them on.
My mom was always the first one up (something my children do not experience often). Even if I was up earlier than normal, my mom was up with coffee in hand. She was always smiling a hello, asking how I slept--even when I refused to answer or would only growl a response. (I've never been a morning person). When my mom slept in, we all knew she was ill. Then, of course, there was panic since moms are never to be ill.
My mom was the mom who drove everyone to school--us, our friends, our cousins. She was everyone's emergency contact. She was the one who opened her house to the entire neighborhood so she didn't have to worry about where we were going or who was watching us. My mom was the disciplinarian to everyone. My ornery cousins were good at our house because they didn't want Aunt Debbie mad at them. She was the one who my aunts called when loose teeth needed to be pulled. And even though my mom was strict, my cousins knew (and still know!) that she loves them. She went not only to all of our school programs, but other kids' too. She was safe and even during the junior high and high school years when I butted heads with my mom the most, my friends sought her out to tell their problems and cry to, knowing she wouldn't make them feel stupid.
Happy Mother's Day, DebbieMom. I'm sure I speak for all your "kids" when I say how very, very loved you are.
Grandma is the one who taught me to crochet. I was seven. Every visit I would dutifully make sure I brought my crocheting hooks and some yarn so I could sit next to Grandma on the couch and watch her hands fly making stitches while I patiently waited for my hands to learn to move just as fast. 
Mama and I were pen pals as soon as I could write sentences. Every other week I'd either be mailing or receiving a letter. When we visited, Mama made root beer floats. She'd show us quilts she was making or afghans she was crocheting. She'd bring out old pictures and tell us stories about when my mom was a baby (which was so hard to visualize!) and stories of the Papa (her husband) that we never got to meet because he died before I was born. When Mama moved to Illinois in 2003, we'd visit her at the nursing home and Elisabeth would entertain her with dancing and songs. She lived to be 94 years old. She had the softest skin and the prettiest hair.
One of my first memories involving my mom was when I was three. (I think I might have shared this with you all already before) It was bath time and my little sister, Terra, was crying from our bedroom. My mom told me to take all my clothes off and wait for her before I climbed in the tub. I was almost done taking my clothes off, when my mom brought the cranky Terra into the bathroom and told me to get in the tub. I looked down at my socked feet and said, "But, Mom..." "Ginny, I said get in the tub." Ever the diligent child, I got in the tub, with my socks on. As my mom started shampooing my hair, she looked at my feet. "I tried to tell you my socks were still on." I got to take the entire bath with them on.
My mom was always the first one up (something my children do not experience often). Even if I was up earlier than normal, my mom was up with coffee in hand. She was always smiling a hello, asking how I slept--even when I refused to answer or would only growl a response. (I've never been a morning person). When my mom slept in, we all knew she was ill. Then, of course, there was panic since moms are never to be ill.
Happy Mother's Day, DebbieMom. I'm sure I speak for all your "kids" when I say how very, very loved you are.
The museum is quite large. Not only is an entire day's worth of exploring, it's jam packed full of awesome exhibits. We visited the wild nature exhibit, the space exhibit and the rock and gem exhibit.
We ate lunch at their T. Rex Cafe, which had excellent food at reasonable prices! I was expecting to fork over my arm and leg for the girls' meals, but they were only $3.95 each. Plus, the kids' macaroni and cheese was super yummy.
We weren't allowed to take pictures inside, but the entire exhibit was amazing. A crew of historians had set out in search of a well known pirate ship that had sunk while trying to make it back to the East Coast (Rhode Island, I think?). Anyway, they were able to find it and bring up some of the things from the sunken ship including some of the eating supplies, treasure, cannons and a lot more. It was so interesting and we all loved it.
After the pirates, we wandered over to the Prehistoric exhibit. 
The bone that Kayleigh is pretending to nosh on is an actual bone from a triceratop's leg!!!
This little old man was a wealth of knowledge. He was peppy and informative and obviously loved volunteering at the museum. I love it when the people in the exhibits are so enthusiastic about what they know and love.
Lastly, we headed over to the health exhibit. Next to the pirates, this was my absolute favorite. This picture I took:
Was an actual human digestive system. Someone donated their body to science and this was preserved and now used to show you how a granola bar is digested in your body. Each little jar next to the digestive system was the granola bar at a different stage of it's trip through you. It was fascinating!!! And Julia was in awe of the poop in a jar. I think she finally realized why we all poop after that illustrative explanation.
They also had a play area for small kiddos.
And a science lab where you actually got to do experiments. Elisabeth spent most of her time in there and we didn't see her for over an hour.
Julia found the very fun impression peg board thingy. Pink baby had a turn...
Evan had a turn...
And Julia really threw herself into it...
We were at the museum for 6 full hours and really only got to see half of what we wanted to see. There were still three other exhibits we didn't even get to! I told the girls we'd definitely be making another trip before we moved. 
Julia was stoked to see Muno at the car show. She's a Yo Gabba Gabba fan.
I have no idea what this thing is, but Ebeth thought it was adorable.
Rachel and her kiddos were there too. Elisabeth is all about odd faces in photos these days...
Sometimes Elisabeth didn't cling to the wall!
But, most of the time she did.
Julia was so proud of Evan for skating. At one point she told him, "Hey, I need wheels too!".
There was face painting. How cute is Ebeth's face painting?! I love the cloud nose.
Mabel chose to be a dog. I was borderline on being creeped out (I hate fully painted faces. It freaks me the eff out).
Elisabeth is such a theater junkie. Not that she's ever had a choice in the matter. We've been taking her to see plays since she was barely 3.
I was very impressed with the production. It was a musical and the cast was excellent. It was a community theater troupe that does child friendly shows. There were booths an hour before the show with crafts and activities for the kids to do that kind of introduced things about Pippi. The program was full of games and activities as well.
After the show, there were cookies and milk and the cast would sign the autograph page in the program. Elisabeth loves getting to meet the actors. 
It was so much fun. Definitely a community theater troupe to take your kids to if you live in the Colorado Springs area.
Rain. Snow. Wind. More wind. And then...more wind. 
That might be one of my most favoritest pictures of her ever. Seriously, she's going to be so beautiful when she's grown up that Evan's already talking about getting a shot gun. She is 8.5 today and that means in six months she'll be 9 and then I might need to cry because she'll be a year from 10 and that's double digits. 
She has not slept well the last three nights due to a cold and wakes up whimpering and crying. It's so sad. Sometimes she doesn't wake up at all; she just makes the noises in her sleep. When she does wake up she just wants a few cuddles and to be re-tucked in. Nothing tugs on my heart strings more than when the girls make sad noises in their sleep. You can't do anything for them but don't you wish you could jump into their dreams and make them happier?
Oh, and where did April go?! Cause I feel like I can't account for most of the days.
Guess I'll just have to pay better attention to May.
