Thankful for Thanksgiving

This year Susan and I are so thankful to celebrate Reagan’s first thanksgiving. We are so thankful for our happy and healthy little baby girl. She amazes us each and every day. As excited as we are to charge into Reagan’s first holiday season, we must also embrace the sorrow that comes with first holiday’s without my Mom.

I can’t even express in words how sad I am to face the holiday season without my mom.  Out of a lifetime of being loving, Mom really shined over the holidays. From October through December she had kids and grandkids’ birthdays, Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. All special days which revolve around Mom’s specialties, cooking and gifts.  Therefore I can’t help but feel sadness during this time, much like my siblings, their families, our extended families, close friends, those missing their pecan pie, and those who will not receive their little personalized gift in their Barton mailbox this year. Fortunately Mom left us so many reasons to be thankful.  

I am thankful for the memory of last thanksgiving. Mom hadn’t hosted a thankgiving in years. And even when she had it kind of dwindled into the smallest remainder of our family. But last year, Mom’s condo was filled wall to wall with love. At dinnertime, the table literally stretched wall to wall. Mom really put on something special last year. At one table she had her children, grandchildren, close friends and family. We actually had to move her living room furniture into the bedroom to fit the banquet table she bought just for that day. Mom worked way harder than she should have and would only accept our help if we gave her no other option. Mom, who hates crowds of people, was so happy to have crowded her condo with so much love. It was the perfect day. Even when Bailey came out of the master bedroom (a.k.a. pie storage) with a beard of pumpkin pie on his face, Mom was unphased.  She was probably just happy that poor Bailey was finally able to eat some people food. I’m so thankful that Mom decided to host last year. I’m so thankful so many of us were together. I’m so thankful for that wonderful Thanksgiving.

I’m just as thankful for the thanksgiving the year before. Mom came to my house and had thanksgiving dinner prepared for her by her baby and his wife mere months after their nuptials. When you’re the baby of the family, I think you’re always the baby. It doesn’t matter what you do, how old you get, or what you have accomplished. You’re the baby. Well two years ago Mom sat at our table, set with our wedding china, in our home, with a dinner prepared by her youngest and his bride and hopefully was able to take comfort in seeing her baby was grown up enough to host thanksgiving. Everything tasted wonderfully and was the perfect output of Susan and I working together.

I have 28 more thanksgiving stories (including a complete thanksgiving at a campsite) that I will spare you.  I will say that perhaps what I am most thankful for is the years of learning I had under Mom’s tutelage teaching me the ins and outs of making special days special. I promise to do my best Mom.

Susan, Reagan, Bailey, Micki, and I would like to wish you all a happy thanksgiving. We hope your day is filled with love, family, friends, and memories of special days you have all shared. Happy Thanksgiving from our family to yours. 

Stop and Smell the Roses

I met a man today who told me his story. I was walking the two blocks from Chapman to the first non-permit street parking, where I park M-F, and I stopped to ask a question about roses. On this route of mine there is this beautiful little yellow house with rose bushes everywhere and whatever colorful flower the season permits. Every blade of grass is a crisp green surrounded by a white picket fence. It looks like something out of  Thomas Kincade painting or some place that Brenda would want to live.

Anyway, I stopped to ask the elderly home owner a few questions about his roses. This is what I learned:

He doesn’t know about the roses. His wife takes care of them. He joined the marines after high school. On the way down to boot camp the train stopped in Orange and he had an hour to walk around before the train continued down the tracks to San Diego. He thought to himself: “I like this little town.” After his commitment to the Marine Corps was up, he headed home to Michigan to attend Wesley College (Wesley University at the time). When he graduated he was ready to start the adult chapter of his life, but where? How about that little town called Orange he had spent an hour 10 years before? He spent the rest of his life in Orange. He married a woman, had a daughter and they lived together for years raising their child. Eventually she “wanted to live a different life” (I did not follow up). So he was single, in his 50s, hosting an office Christmas party, when he saw a beautiful 30 something friend of his secretary. “I kissed her that night, by the file cabinets between the As and the Cs.” She pulled back, things got awkward.  “She must of thought, ‘who is this old guy shmooching me.”’ A week later his secretary asked why he hadn’t called her friend. They had been together for 35 years and together they raised her 3 sons. Now they have 11 grandchildren and 4 great grand children. The four great grand children call him “Great Papa.”

I learned much more, but I wont share every detail. I enjoyed my ten minutes with this 85 year old retired insurance salesmen. He stood in the middle of a lawn, rake in hand, leaves surrounding his feet, and a warm smile on his face. His name is Bob Junstalls.

Every now and again you get the opportunity to meet someone. You get the opportunity to learn about the life of a stranger. Just like most people, I miss most of these opportunities by playing with my smart phone, reading, or even just ignoring the opportunity so it doesn’t slow down my day.  I’m going to try to embrace these possibilities more often in the future. Before I walk by, go to my phone, or open my book, I’ll ask myself “What would Morrie do? How about Tad, John, or Ginny?” I bet they would stop, and ask about the roses. 

Reagan’s 80s Workout Video

Reagan’s Workout Video

Having a baby is fun. Reagan is simply down for whatever. She plays games, she enjoys puppet shows, she dances with daddy, she loves a good hike, she enjoys wearing socks on her hands and skirts on her head, funny photo shoots, and most recently she enjoys making silly home movies. Susan and I may have enjoyed this even more. The other day I was changing Reagan's diaper. As I re-dressed her I accidentally snapped the onezie and then put her pants on. I immediately saw my error but couldn't help but notice the similarities in her accidental outfit and an 80s workout video outfit. Tada! The idea for the workout video was born. We found the tightest onesie, snug black leggings, baggy socks, and of course a head band.

Please enjoy Reagan’s introduction to the wonderful world of youtube with Reagan’s 80s Workout Video.

Happy Birthday to Me!

I had a wonderful birthday this year thanks to great family and friends. My birthday, like many years, fell over multiple days. On Sunday, my brother and sister, sister-in-law, three nephews (one representing the brother and family who couldn't make it), and a niece drove out to spend the day with me. We started by spending all afternoon in the kitchen doing our best to duplicate Mom’s Chicken and Dumplings. Mom cooked everything “to taste.” Pots simmered for “awhile.” And all ingredients were quantified as “some.” With my mom’s recipe and instructions, it took Brenda, Josh, Andrew, and I hours to do what Mom did alone. We of course had plenty of help from Gracen and Sayler. Gracen can make great dumplings, Sayler can crack an egg (better use a separate bowl), and we were pretty impressed with what our Dust Buster could pick up. 

Yes we were a little low on chicken . . . . and dumplings, our broth wasn’t as thick, and apparently Brenda thought we had too many carrots; but that was one of the best times I have had in the kitchen. The meal was delicious, not Mom’s, but delicious. The real joy of the dinner was making it. The whole time I thought to myself, “I’m so happy to be with my family.” Ginny, Randy, and Christopher joined us for dinner and I pulled out the folding table and chairs and we all fit at the same table. It was perfect. 

The real tragedy was the cake I made myself. Oil, eggs, cake mix. How can you screw that up? I know, you use the wrong pan even though you have Mom’s perfect cake pan in the garage. Oops. Thanks for putting on a stern face and chomping through that yellow brick with chocolate frosting. 

The night was capped off with playful chatter in the living room and an outrageous, yet sweaty, round of bull-dogging in Reagan’s room. In case you’re wondering, bulldogging is when one toddler rides on a grown-up’s back, dives onto a bull (another grown-up) and tackles him to the ground. This also leads to toddler jousting, and then just wrestling. No one was injured. 

On my actual birthday, Susan started me off right. I came home from my morning class at about 10:30 and walked into my little family waiting for me as I opened the door. Wife and daughter were both dressed in cute outfits, I had flowers and presents on the counter, a fresh pot of coffee, and Reagan was “holding” a sign that read “Happy Birthday Daddy.” I felt like a million bucks. 

For my day, I asked for two things. 1) I wanted to go on a bike ride. My first one post-Reagan. 2) I wanted Susan to cook me a dinner I had never had before, with no opinion or suggestion or answer from me.

At 1:30 on a beautifully sunny October afternoon, I met up with my riding buddy Brandon and down through the Back Bay, up PCH, and down Main Street, Huntington Beach to Starbuck’s. Then we headed back. A great 30 mile bike ride, just what I needed. 

Later that evening, on my way home from class I pulled off into a parking lot and threw on a tie to formal things up a bit. When I came home Susan had dinner on the stove, a candle lit table setting, and a glass of Falkner Riesling (B’day gift from Ginny and Randy). It was just what I had hoped for. Unfortunately we also had a fussy baby. As I sat on the recliner talking with Susan as she fed Reagan and we worried about the carefully prepared pasta getting cold or the croutons in the Caesar salad getting soggy I couldn’t help but admire my beautiful little family. Sure we were supposed to eat at 8 and we didn’t get the baby to sleep and sit down until 9. But such is life. And we didn’t care. We were a family, together. We’re a couple with a newborn, you got to be flexible. 

When we finally did sit down the dinner was outstanding. Susan made a Caesar salad and linguini with ham and peas (I like peas, Susan doesn’t. Another little added bonus for my birthday.) For dessert, a light and fluffy yellow cake with chocolate frosting made in the correct pan. Afterward, we walked into the living room and we danced; another one of my favorite things. 

The other day I heard a DJ on the radio claiming no man older than 21 should give a darn about any birthday that doesn’t end in zero. I couldn’t disagree more. Honestly, I don’t care about turning 31. That doesn’t really mean anything significant. A birthday is just a nice excuse to go out of your way to show your love and to make someone feel special. I learned that from my mom. Mom always made birthdays special. We always had birthdays as an excuse to come together as a family. Now, as I just had my first birthday without Mom, my family picked it up a notch for me. My wife and sister even called/texted at the minute I was born since Mom couldn’t this year. Later this month we’re getting together again for Sayler’s birthday, then Chistopher's, Brenda’s in November, Josh’s in December, Susan’s in January . . . .

The Gifts Keep on Coming

In this picture you’ll see my daughter lying on a beautiful crocheted blanket. This gift is yet another emotional and loving present from Mom, Reagan’s Grandma Margaret. There was only a two-month window from when Mom learned of the upcoming addition to her list of grandchildren and when she entered the hospital. During that time Mom started on a baby blanket for grandchild number six. Unfortunately, Mom would never meet Reagan or finish this blanket . . . on her own.

Mom had a nice little start to the blanket and even had all the yarn delivered to her hospital bed. Nevertheless, the pain, the medication, and the overall fight against cancer kept her from continuing her work. It’s okay Mom, we took it from there.

If you look at the picture, the yellow square in the middle of the blanket was made by my mother’s loving hands. That would be as far as she could get. Elaine, a friend of Susan’s mom would help us complete this gift. The inner green border works to frame Mom’s original work so we’ll always know what she created. The yellow yarn on the outside is from the same roll my mom picked out for her baby’s first baby.  I’m sure this blanket will mean as much to Reagan as it does to me. Thanks Mom, I love you.

I would like to give a special thanks to Elaine. You helped complete a gift I (we) will cherish forever. Thank you.

One Month Old! (9/30/2011)

Can you believe it? Our little baby is already a month old. She’ll be heading off to college before we know it. Right after Susan and I found out we were going to be parents, my emotions were on high alert. I walked into a Costco and as always was immediately sprung on by giant TVs. This time Costco had Toy Story 3 on loop. I stopped to watch the opening scene where Andy was playing so happily with his toys, only to find out that this was an old home video and Andy was leaving for college! I quickly dried my eyes and commenced shopping as I pondered the sad day in which my embryo would someday leave home.  And just like so many have warned, “they grow up so fast.” I know I know, it’s only been a month, get over it right? Well you just don’t know how much she has grown!

She has already grown way past the meconium poop stage. After day two, I’d never get to scrub my little tar-butt baby again. Now she has moved on past the mustard seed phase onto green poo. It is happening SO fast! Reagan kind of moved her fist to her mouth on purpose today, she can sometimes follow a face, toy, or voice. She is almost out of her newborn diapers, she drank from a bottle, she sleeps in her own room, she plays kicky feet all day, and it's all spiraling out of control. 

Regardless of how much we love the Reagan of that day, we seem to be even more impressed and in love with Reagan the next day. She is perfect and makes each day so much more amazing.

Reagan's Room

One of the best parts of the pregnancy was turning our guest room and office into the baby’s room.  Over several months and with help from friends and family, we transformed our extra bedroom into the perfect home for baby. As my mom would have said “all the baby needs is a crib,” but we wanted to build it this way anyway. In preparation for Reagan’s arrival we painted, put in new carpet, curtains, base boards, and crown molding, Of course we needed new furniture and for added fun we decorated the room with a lovely “Dance” theme.