Sunday, September 28, 2014

And then she turned ten

My little girlie turned 10 last week.

Where did that decade go?

We did the traditional 'balloons all over her bed while we sang to her' again, only this year she was awake and we made her lay back down and pretend to sleep so we could wake her up with the SURPRISE of balloons on her bed. 

She giggled and obliged.




 
We had friends over for dinner the Sunday night before her special day.  A couple families with girls close to her age and a two couples who have taken us in as their own.  We ate pizza and chicken and we were visiting when one of the men said "Let's finish up so we can leave the table." 

I thought it was a bit odd, typically we will visit a bit after we finish eating, but I shrugged it off and thought nothing of it. 

After we said our finish up prayer, he hands Rhianna a card.  The front said "HAPPY BIRTHDAY RHIANNA" and inside was a note.  It said they knew she liked trivia and for her birthday, they were giving her a few trivia questions. 

The answer to all the questions was the same thing...and their was a flap at the bottom of the card that when she opened it up, read 'Go look in Joe's truck for your gift'.

The answer to all the questions was 'a bike' but I was thinking "there is no way they went together and got her a bike" (something she had been wanting very badly).  We walked outside and opened the back of the truck and sure enough there was a brand new 18 speed bike. 

It takes a lot to make me cry, but right then I had tears.   She has ridden her bike almost every single night since then.

What she asked me for her birthday speaks volumes of her character.  She asked for a day out with me.  She didn't want anything else, just some one on one time.  (Which made me feel guilty thinking I wasn't giving her enough one on one time).

I knew she just meant, spend part of the day somewhere fun, but I wanted to plan something more.  I had been to Newport, RI the summer before and toured the mansions and thought she might like it.

We left early morning on Saturday with plans to spend most of the day in Newport.  She had seen a few photos, but I knew she had no idea of how amazing this place is.

It is a bit over a 2 hour drive and we chatted the whole way.  She became more and more excited as we drove closer.  I wish I could have taken a picture of her face when we finally climbed up the huge bridge that crosses into Newport.  You look over parts of the Atlantic and the harbor is filled with sailboats.  I can't think of a more beautiful place on earth. 

We found a little cafe to eat a quick lunch at before heading to the mansions.

We found a fun surprise at the table. Something that reminded us of Ohio.

SMUCKERS JELLY.

We took a picture and texted it to Aunt Kate!






 
 
The first mansion we went to was The Breakers.  It was the summer home of the Vanderbilts.  I couldn't take any inside pictures, but keep in mind that these homes were only used for 8-10 weeks out of the year. 
 
It reminded me of the mansion in The Sound of Music.  So amazingly grand and surreal.  I had to keep reminding myself that people actually lived here.
 




 


 

This porch was on the second story of the house....right off the hallway from the bedrooms.
Imagine waking up to this view every morning.
I could get used to that!




I let her find a little trinket in the gift shop. 
She picked out a Japanese fan that the Vanderbilt girls
would have used at a dance on a hot Saturday night.




 We had to rely on selfies to get pictures of us together.
We had fun getting some pics on the porch.

They had a play 'house' out in the yard where the children would
have played in.  This house is bigger than some of the
apartments I have lived in!
 
Next house we toured was 'The Elms'. 


 
 
 
We did the servant life tour at this house and got to go upstairs to the third floor and see where the servants lived and learned more about them.  If you ever make it to Newport, this tour is a must!!
We went out onto the roof top to see where the servants might slip out onto to grab fresh air or catch a break.  We could see to the harbor and it was a gorgeous view!
 



 
 
When we first arrived at this house, we both had to use the bathroom.  They hadn't changed much in it (except to make it more of a public place) so it still had the grand marble walls. 
 
I couldn't help but take some selfies in the mirror to send back home to a few friends of mine because of a long time ago joke.  How could I not?  When would the next time I be in a multi-million dollar home and use the restroom? hah
 




 
We were getting tired after the tours at The Elms and was ready to get home.  We were taking a few more selfies in the circular drive that is canopied by wistera when a French gentleman asked if he could take the picture for us.
 
We happily obliged.
 


 



 
To get to our car parked in the side lot, we had to walk through the back yard. 
 
Oh what a view. 
 



Showing off her birthday present!
 
My absolute favorite is the video I took of her.  I asked her to tell me about her day.  She said this:
 
"My name is Rhianna and I am ten.  This (geturing with her hand) is my birthday present."
 
I decided at that moment to stop the video.  
 
It was too cute. 
 
She may have only gotten a few trinkets from me this year.  But I hope that what she got what much more.  I hope she remembers our day for the rest of her life. 
 
I know I will and I can't wait for more days like this. 
 
I've had this little girlie in my life for ten years. 
 
It has been nothing but pure joy to be called her mother. 
 



Friday, September 19, 2014

Zucchini 500

Ellington has a farmer's market every Saturday at the park in the center of town. 

Each week they have a fun activity planned for the kids. 

A few  weeks ago Rhianna was there and came home and said that she wanted to sign up for the Zucchini 500. 

She needed to build a car out of a zucchini to race.

I sighed.

My kids have big imaginations and think of no limitations to reality.

I had no idea how to build a car (I'm not the most mechanically minded individual) let alone have the time to build it.

But, Rhianna had her heart set on it and I was going to give it my best shot.

Friday night rolls around.  (I admit.  I procrasitnated.)  And we start building this thing around 10pm.

I had been told by someone who saw this race last year, that the wheels don't have to be vegetables.  Just the body of the car must be a zucchini.

Rhianna told me that she knew there was no way she would win the fastest.  (She knows me and my building skills all too well) so she was going to go for 'Most Healthiest'.  And try to get the most variety of fruits and veggies as part of her car.

We had the design finished and I was working on finding something for wheels.  I tore apart one of Reagan's cars, hoping to use the axel.

It wouldn't work.

Next, I tried unscrewing the wheels off his Tonka truck, thinking a monster truck zucchini car would be fun.

It wouldn't work.

At this point (11pm) I was almost in tears.  I felt like a failure..imagining all the other kids probably spent hours on this with their dads and would make our car look pathetic.  I knew I was, once again, going to let my child down.  I figured her car would fall apart (if I could even find wheels to make it roll) or it would be tacky or whatever. 

All I knew is that I dreaded the next day. 

While I was sitting there beating myself up, a thought came to mind.  (I still cannot think what made me think of it).  I remembered that she had a plastic scooter for her dolls. 

I ran in the bedroom and dug it out of the storage bin.  I unscrewed the top part and set the zucchini on the base of the scooter. 

It fit perfectly.

I tied the back part of the veggie with a multi-colored piece of yarn and the front was attached by a rubber band. 

Stop laughing. 

It was pushing midnight at this point and I was done for the day.

The next morning we pulled in to the market and I had that sick feeling of dread.  I figured all the other cars would look wonderfully put together and here was ours, stuck to plastic wheels with yarn and decorated with all kinds of fruits and veggies.   I was waiting for the moment when she would realize that hers looked worse than all the others simple because her mom just doesn't have time.

To my delight, as we walked closer, I noticed that all the cars looked pretty much the same.  They were cars made out of a zucchini, after all.





The time for the race came closer and my little girlie was getting really nervous.

video

She paced until it was time for the race. 

They had it set up where two cars would race...the winner going to the winners bracket and the loser going to the losers bracket. 

Rhianna and Auntie Tricia
(Excuse the thumb)
We were SO excited Auntie T was here to watch Rhianna race.

Once they had the winner from the winners bracket, the winner from the losers bracket would come back to race the winner from the winners bracket and race it.  If the winner from the loser bracket won; they would race one more time to beat the winner of the winners bracket to go on to win first place.  (Are you confused yet?)

I hoped Rhianna's car would make it down in one piece, once. 

All I wanted was for her to walk away feeling proud that she did her best, but not feeling like a failure. 

First race?

video
Believe it or not...

She won.  She smoked them.

I'm not sure what emotion was stronger...excitement or shock that we actually won one race.

As the races continued, I realized she actually had a shot at winning the entire shebang.

There was one other zucchini that looked slightly faster than hers...it was roped onto a firetruck and was speedy as it beat every other car.

The time came for Rhianna to race it.  The first half of the track she was smoking it and then it happened...

her car veered to the right and slightly rubbed against the wooden track snapping her rubberband.  The car careened out of control and rolled to the end. 

She lost the race.

Oddly enough, I was devastated.  I was sure she was going to win; and upset at my flawed design.

A man from the crowd came up to us and said "I have zip ties in my bag...here fix the car so she can race again."

My first thought was "Who carries zip ties to a farmer's market?" but shrugged it off and accepted the kind offer.

We fixed up her car and she was good to go.

She made it through the losers bracket to come back to be the winner of the losers bracket.

The time came for the first place race.

It was her versus Mr. Firetruck Zucchini. 

The only car she had lost to.

There was a large crowd gathered around at this point.  Quite a few people in the crowd were from church (many came over while shopping at the market because they heard Rhianna's name announced).  It was so wonderful to see so many people supporting her...not because they wanted her to win necessarily, but because they love her and want good things for her.

She put her car up at the top of the race track next to Mr. Firetruck Zucchini.

The race master lifted the wooden bar and off they went.

AND SHE WON.

I was shaking uncontrollably.

I know.

Ridiculous.

But I had always failed my children in the past when it came to building things...and finally...for once their car was winning.

The kids grabbed their cars and ran to the top of the track.

The winner of this race would be the First Place Winner of the annual Zucchini 500.

The block went up and....

video







SHE WON.

SHE ACTUALLY WON.

That shrill scream you heard at the end of the video??  That was her, so excited she won.

After the race, the second place winner came up to her and shook her hand.

video


I was hugging her, almost jumping up and down.  She was excited she won.

I was excited I hadn't failed her (once again) because I couldn't build things.

I looked up and saw a photographer taking our picture.  The idea of us being on the Ellington Gazette (or whatever it is called) with me hugging her jumping up and down horrified me.  I wanted to tell them why I was so excited. haha.

(Note:  The picture was not printed...at least to my knowledge it wasn't.  Thank goodness.)

I saw the zip tie man still standing in the crowd and I wanted to thank him once again.

I went over to him and said: "You have no idea what you helping fix her car means to her.  I'm a single mom...always failing when it comes to building things like this.  Thank you for saving the day for her."

His response made me stutter...

"It was my son she beat out."

Uh. um.  What do you say to that?

He continued on so graciously...he said "I'm glad she won.  She deserved it.  My son, he always wins, and needs to lose occasionally. "

It wasn't a big deal...it was only a Zucchini 500...but it was a heartwarming story to me.  That there are still a lot of really good people out there. 

She won a gift certificate to the market and a huge bag of kettle corn. 

Now she has a reputation to uphold.

Next Saturday, the 27th, there is a Summer Harvest Drag Race.

And you can bet she is entering a pumpkin car!

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

"Ms. Williams, my thoughts exactly"

If you have been anywhere any type of news lately, you will have heard that Robin Williams died this week.

I know there have been a million and a half blog posts written about their view on it, their view on him, their view on suicide. 

I'm sick of it. 

I'm sick of it in my face.  I'm sick of hearing people's stupid and ignorant opinions of something they know nothing about.

This won't be one of those blog posts.

I didn't know him (obviously) and therefore shouldn't be feeling as melancholy as I have.

I know this.

But I can't help it. 

News like this makes me sad.  News like this affects me.  News like this brings back a flooding of memories I don't want to relive.

In the first moment of hearing he comitted suicide, I had that pit in my stomach, sick, black inky feeling that comes when I hear that ugly word spoken.

Part of me is sad for me.  For my generation.   Growing up in the 90's, he was a major film star with many roles that impacted our culture and will forever be etched in our memories.  He made us laugh and sometimes, even cry.  In each of his films, you could sense that he had a deep soul, some depth to his thoughts, his emotions, and what drove his ability to make others laugh with such feeling.

I feel things big.   When I laugh. I laugh.  But when I'm sad.  I'm sad.  There is no happy medium.

 Most days I'm thankful I feel big, but there are times that I hate it.

 I hate that painful news is like being stabbed in the gut and there is no escape. Even if that painful news isn't yours to hear.  I hate that hearing of someone else's pain, hurts me, and only because I'm frustrated I can't soften their pain.   I hate that hearing bad news that reminds me of my own heartache will affect me for days, and the only escape is time. 

And tears.

Which is slightly ridiculous....crying over Robin Williams. 

In a way, the thought of Robin Williams not being here to make us laugh, does hurt my heart. 

But what really hurts are the reminders.  The knowing how his family feels.  The questions they are asking.   The anger, the sorrow, the questions, the pain.

it just plain hurts.

I came across online a letter that was written by his daughter (or so it says she wrote it) and I was in awe that she wrote the words that I have been trying to form for years.

"While I'll never, ever understand how he could be loved so deeply and not find it in his heart to stay..." 
 
This is one question I ask repeatedly.  How could he (my dad) know that I loved him so deeply, but not find it in his heart to stay...
 
It is a question that there is no answer to.  People can give pathetic attempts to answer it...with the concept that it will bring me comfort.  But reality is, there is no answer.  Or only one possible answer.  But that is too painful to let the thought pass through my mind.  So I stop it from crossing over my thoughts.
 
I am slowly healing, I laugh more than I cry,  but  most likely I won't ever complety heal.  Some days I think I've moved on.  Doing great, the stabbing pain has lessened. 

Then I am reminded.
 
And find myself with tears silently and ridiculously streaming down my face while riding the bus into work after hearing about Robin.  
 
I love how she closes her letter:
 
"Dad was, is and always will be one of the kindest, most generous, gentlest souls I've ever known, and while there are few things I know for certain right now, one of them is that not just my world, but the entire world is forever a little darker, less colorful and less full of laughter in his absence.  We'll just have to work twice as hard to fill it back up again."
 
I can't say that the entire world is a little darker because of my dad's death.  I can only say that my world is definitely darker because of my dad's death. 

"Ms. Williams, my thoughts exactly"
 

Thursday, August 7, 2014

Girls Night Out

I've not done a very good job of posting pictures of what life looks like here. 

I have quite a few, and maybe soon I'll do just a pictures post.  So you can see how gorgeous it is here and all want to come visit :-)

This past Monday night, a new friend of mine and I went to dinner.  We both needed a girls night out. 

This is a new friend, but as Anne would say, truly a kindred spirit.  She is old enough to be my mother, but yet it somehow is just right.   She doesn't know my story and I didn't know hers, yet I knew I could tell her every gory detail and she would somehow love me more for it.

It was her birthday the next day, but with our schedules, we decided Monday was the best night to go out.

She picked me up at the corner of Grove St. and Columbus Ave. in Hartford around 4pm.  We were headed to Stonington for dinner at a seaside restaurant. 

We talked each other's ear off the entire drive down to the shore, which I might add for my Midwestern friends...is a mere hour drive :-) 

We found our way through Stonington, which I think I could stroll the streets of for days and not tire of the scenes.  Seriously.  Quaint New England homes dotted along the narrow streets within view of the shore.  Sailboats dotted the horizon and were tethered to a smattering of docks. 

It was like driving into a picture.

We found the restaurant and settled into a seat on the deck looking over the water.

I had never been, but she had quite a few times.

What we hadn't realized is that the restaurant changed ownership.

Instead of a normal restaurant, it was now a slightly upscale place to dine.

We noticed this as soon as we flipped our menus over.

Note: When there are no $ symbols or .00 after the prices.  Its too nice of a place for Julie.

We giggled and frantically decided what to order.

The seafood spaghetti sounded delish and that is what we both ordered.  (Anyone who knows me well, should be proud of me and all the new foods I'm trying!!  Seafood spaghetti was a huge leap in the 'Julie's actually growing up' category!)


Waiting on our million dollar spaghetti.  (I blotted her face out because I didn't ask her if she minded her picture being here, not because I don't want you to see her :-) )

 We ate our dinner, laughing the entire time and pretended like we belonged at such a place.   After we ate, we drove to New London for some ice cream.  We ate our treats alongside some docks and talked even more. 




It was a gorgeous summer night, the cool air blowing off the water.  We had planned for this night out for weeks and enjoyed the anticipation, but realizing the night was quickly going away.
 
After our ice cream, we headed towards Waterford to a friends beachfront house to watch the sun set.  We missed the main part of the show, but still was able to enjoy the colors fading into the sea. 
 
We ran into other friends at the house and spent some time chatting with them.
 
We soon realized that it was getting late and we needed to head back north.  We talked the entire way home, and then sat in the parking lot next to my car for a few minutes....still finishing up talking.
 
I had such a great time during this girls night.  I can't wait to do it again!!
 
(Sorry about the pictures being sideways...not sure why.  They were right when I uploaded them and I'm sure I could fix them if I really tried.  But I'm tired, so I guess you'll have to turn your head to truly enjoy the pictures.) 


Wednesday, August 6, 2014

How the Red Sox made me homesick.

A few weeks ago I went through a phase of homesickness.

Of course I had the typical things I was lonely for... missing my family and friends.

But that wasn't what was triggering it. 

There were a few things. 

The strangest was seeing Boston Red Sox apparel in Target.

And it was making me sad.

I know.

Strange.

But being the over analyzer that I am, I thought about why it would make me homesick.

Its not like I am a die hard fan like I once was.

As I thought about the years when I was a diehard Cleveland fan (who's greatest rival in the 90's was Boston and New York).  I thought about all the hours I spent watching baseball, listening to baseball, studying baseball and what it all meant.

It meant time spent with my dad.  It meant survival in a really hard time in life (high school).

He would take me to Jacob's Field (it will always be The Jake...forget this Progressive field garbage) for games. We would sit in the bleachers or nose bleeds...where the real fans sat.  The ones who loved the game and loved the Indians.  There was John Adams who would beat the drum, and the infamous wave.

Most nights we would watch games at his house...even the late West Coast games that started at 11 pm.  I didn't care how late the started or how late they went.  I was watching or listening to every game, every inning, every pitch and every at bat.  When we would watch the games, we knew as most fans did, to mute the TV and turn on the radio to listen to the animated announcers, Tom Hamilton and Herb Score. 

This was my life.  This is what excited me.  Baseball was my passion.

Dad would point out things that only he could point out, and I would groan "Dad. Just watch the game! Stop analyzing it"

I'm turning into him more everyday.  I talk to my kids the same way.  And they tell me the same thing. 

Looking around the Targets and the Kohls and the people passing by, wearing the red and blue that was for Boston, not Cleveland, made me homesick.

Or maybe just lonely...for a time in my past where even though life seemed hard, it wasn't really all that hard. 

It made me lonely for my dad...for the time spent talking about baseball history and the burying of the curse of Rocky Colivito.  Of  Bob Feller and Herb Score, of how we were so spoiled to have a new stadium, no more was the old rundown Municipal Stadium.

We spent time together watching the lazy games and the times screaming and cheering during the many comebacks the Indians had in the Cinderella seasons of the 90's.  The tears of when they lost the World Series. 

For some reason, seeing Boston shirts for sale, made me lonely for a time and a place that I can't get to.  It made me sad that my kids won't get to experience those times.  Not really the baseball, but the time with their Grandpa. 

I've felt slightly ridiculous for these feelings and wasn't going to admit them.  But anyone who knew me during the 90's knew that I was the biggest fan there was.  How much of a part of my life it was and how much it has impacted me.

Then tonight, while scrolling online, I came across an ESPN classics clip from the Cleveland Indians in the 90's.  It brought back so many memories and in an odd way, made me feel better. 

(The worst part of that sentence is that 'classic' and 'the 90's' is in the same sentence. I officially feel old. haha)

Anyone who says baseball is boring can't say that after watching this:

(A bit long, but WORTH IT!)


(The sound of Herb Score's voice brings back a flood of memories!)
 
                                              (Bare-handed double plays were the norm)

                                                          (Don't forget my favorite #15 )

I think what I am really lamenting is that it won't be the same for my children as what it was for me.  But I already knew that.  I just didn't think about reminiscing about baseball.

If one of the hardest things about moving from Northern Ohio to the East Coast is baseball, which I don't even follow anymore, than I think I'm doing rather well. 

Although it still gives my stomach a little twinge to see Red Sox shirts all over.  I guess its the Bauman in me coming out...ingrained to always root for Cleveland.

Sunday, August 3, 2014

Crossing Paths

Life is interesting.

Five years ago this summer I met a woman visiting Ohio from Iowa. 

Before that evening, I didn't know her and she didn't know me.

After that evening, we never crossed paths again.

But she has been a huge influence in my life, simply by a few simple sentences.


We were at the same house for a cookout and only had spoke for a few minutes briefly that evening. 

That was the extent of our relationship.

At that point in my life, I was still with Randy.  

Only a small handful of people knew how horrible abusive he was.  He was slowly killing me and I was in an emotional pit of mire.

There was a brief moment that evening, he stepped away from me.  She looked at me and said "I know he's abusive to you.  But don't worry.  Someday you will get out from under it and over come it.  I can tell you are a strong person under it all."

I didn't know how to respond.

I couldn't believe someone could read my secret. 

It wasn't shame I felt.

It was hope.

That there was a glimmer of light that I could survive this.

It was a few weeks later, other things transpired, other friends spoke hope and I was able to stand up and escape his grip.

I never remembered that woman's name or exactly where she was from.   I knew she was a cousin to some friends of mine in Ohio, but other than that, I didn't know who she was.

Tonight, a friend, here in Connecticut, asked me over to her house...her sister was here and she wanted to have a few people over.

I saw this woman at church today and I knew that it was her...

Tonight when I was able to talk to her and spend some time with her, it was confirmed that it was, in fact, her that spoke hope to me so many years ago.

What amazes me, is that this August is five years I stood up for myself.  I usually 'celebrate' another year of overcoming this horror by going out to dinner with a friend.  This year I decided to 'celebrate' the entire month.

Not celebrate the breaking of a marriage, but the survival of a family.  We might be short a male figure in this family, but we are not short anything else.  We have love, we have peace, we have hope.

In 'celebrating' this five year mark, I have taken a walk down memory lane to that summer of 2009....a lifetime ago. And in that walk, this woman was part of my thoughts...and here she 'shows up'.  Just in time to celebrate with me.  To see me on the other side of the abuse.  

Had to be a God thing.  No doubt.

She didn't remember the conversation...but I did.  I remembered the hope and strength she offered me.

It made me think how powerful our words are.  We can destroy a person with our sharp tongues.  But we can also save a person with the same lips.  We can give them courage and hope.


This month instead of focusing on myself and what I overcame, I'm going to celebrate this month by building up my friends...encouraging them and giving them hope. 

Will you join me in my month of 'celebrating'? Will you tell someone something encouraging? Will you do that for me?

Monday, July 28, 2014

Extension of Me.

Mom/Grandma came to visit last week, and took all three kids home with her on Saturday.

I'm enjoying the break, working extra long hours at work trying to beat deadlines, and spending some time for myself.

But I miss them.

Yea, they drive me crazy...but I miss them.

Today at work they asked me how I was enjoying the time alone...

My response?

I said I was trying to enjoy it...but I missed them so much.

What they replied made me realize how much my children are intertwined in me.

How much they are a part of me. 

They said "Of course you miss them...they are your whole life"

I don't know why I didn't realize it before...

I didn't realize how much my co-workers picked up on this. 

But they are.

They make up the better part of me.

I  do miss them like crazy,

but am taking this time for me.