The Best Place in the Whole World

My Grandma and Grandpap Rugg lived just one mile down the road from us. Except for an occasional vacation or stay at band camp, there was hardly ever a few days that passed without a visit to their home. Looking back the house was tiny but as a kid it never felt that way. It was a sanctuary, a place to celebrate and often the place to which we escaped.

I was 4 years old the first time I spent the night there. I can vividly remember being asked if I wanted to stay and then chickening out at the last minute only to realize at 10:00 at night that all I needed in the whole world was to be at Grandmas. My mom gave in and drove me down. From that night on, I knew Grandma’s was a special place.

The house was a simple story and a half that sat on a stone basement in front of their barn and small farm. The exterior was red siding and the first floor had a built in front porch, an eat in kitchen, living room, bathroom, and my Grandma’s bedroom. My Grandpap slept in one of the two rooms upstairs.

Each room of the house was filled with a collection of miss-matched furniture and my Grandma’s treasures highlighted by her huge collection of bird figurines.

The front porch was typically too cluttered to use for anything but a catch all of everything. From the porch you stepped through a sliding glass door into the kitchen. You were welcomed by my Grandma’s parakeets hanging in their cage singing a welcoming tune.

The kitchen table too was typically a catch all often stacked with old mail, my Grandpap’s pipe supplies, the milk straining bucket and cloth, a butter dish, bread bags and several other goodies. My Grandpap sat at the head of the table facing the sliding glass door. My Grandma always sat to his right where she could look out at the front of the house and watch her birds dine at one of the three or four bird feeders. Behind the table was a stand for the coffee pot an essential staple of my Grandma’s kitchen.

Grandma’s kitchen housed only two built in cabinets. One cabinet held the sink and one was mounted to the wall above for a few of her dishes, glasses and coffee cups. There were two stoves in the kitchen, both gas. One worked and the other collected an assortment of clutter. Grandma’s dishes, food, and kitchen tools were housed in several freestanding white metal cabinets. In them you would find mismatched glasses and plates well worn with each day’s wash and tender care.

It was normal to find my Grandma in the kitchen. She prepared three meals a day for my Pap. When I was younger, I can remember her baking her own bread and huge Sunday dinners of chicken and noodles made from scratch with the chicken often being raised on the farm. People loved my Grandma’s noodles. They were thick and doughy made from her hands to perfection.

The kitchen always smelled like heaven, or at least what I hope heaven smells like. It was a combination of fresh frying bacon, coffee, warm bread, pancakes and my Grandpap’s Prince Albert pipe tobacco smoke. Often an individual scent will bring back the memories but it was the combination of all that really was Grandma’s house. Today, I would pay a million dollars to be able to smell that perfect combination and even more to have just one more day in that house with Grandma and Pap.

The One with the Toy-Yoda

I have been car shopping and have been talking about getting a Toyota. Grace had the brocure and asked which one I was getting. Gabe said, "Mom is getting me a Toyota. "I laughed and said, "I thought I was getting the new car." He said, "You said you were getting me a Toyota from Star Wars." I laughed and said, "Yes Gabe. I will get you a Toy Yoda from Star Wars.

Tick Twisters and Stitches

Today Gabe came running in the driveway off the bus to meet daddy at the door. Before he made it half way, he fell face first into the gravel. A cut to the forehead and a bloody nose left him looking like he just stepped off the set of the latest slasher movie. Thankfully, Steven was there. Momma doesn’t do well with blood from her babies. With a few bandaid to the forehead, one to the knee and an icepack he seemed to be ok. It was decided that no stitches were needed and life was ok.

We ate dinner and headed out to Grace’s softball practice. Gabe played on the playground and had fun. The adults laughed at Amy’s new device… the Tick Twister (sounds similar to a titty twister but apparently has a whole different objective) and we then headed home.
Gabe was first in the bath. Oh no…what’s that? A tick in his head. Yikes. So, again Momma isn’t good with bugs in her babies. So, daddy got the tweezers and went to work. Only this little tick decided not to cooperate and the head broke off. Grandma was called and Momma, daddy, and Gabe were heading to the ER.

Once at the ER we had the doctor check out the cut on the forehead. Oh yes, stitches would be a good move after all. After two shots… one to numb the front of the head and one to numb the back of the head, three stitches were in and the tick was removed. Tears were shed and Gabe cried too.

And then… guess what. Seems there is a new tool out that they recommend highly. It is a gadget called the Tick Twister. Seems the hospital uses it. Amy can’t find hers. And, we should get one.

Momma’s got a sweet boy in bed with her tonight. Thank God he’s safe and sound.

The One that Needed Cleaned

Gabe was home from school sick again today. He slept the morning away while I worked and then was feeling better in the afternoon. He played some Wii, some DS, and with Chicco for a bit. I was working out of my bedroom and he would occasionally come in to chat or use my bathroom.

When Gabe is serious about something, he uses his hands when he is talking. He puts both hands out, palms flat and facing each other. Today, he came in and went into the bathroom. I heard the seat go up and then down. He then came out and using his hands said, “Mom. You know that thing in there where we poop?” I said, “The toilet?” He said, “Yes. Well, you really need to clean it. Like under there – where you sit. It is gross. You need to clean that.” I said, “Ok. Thank you, Gabe. I’ll get right on that.” I then asked, “Did you wash your hands?” He replied with an “Oh” and went back in to wash them. He then came out and again with the hands said, “Mom, you really need to hang that towel up.” I giggled a bit and didn’t have the heart to tell him that he had been the last one to use the towel. I just agreed, “Yes, the towel should be hung back up.”

And yes… tomorrow the bathrooms, along with the rest of the house, will get cleaned. : )

Love this kid!

The One with the Password

Friday night Grace had a sleep over to celebrate her upcoming 8th birthday. Two girls from her school spent the night and the next day. On Saturday, I was downstairs in the kitchen when I overheard a conversation.

The girls had developed a password system to keep unwanted boys (in this case Gabe) from entering Grace’s room. Two girls, Grace being one of them, were in the room and the third wanted in. She was asked to divulge the password before being granted permission to enter. The only problem was that she didn’t know the password. So, they gave her a hint. It starts with “P”. “Pink? Purple? Puppy?...” And then I heard Grace say, “It’s something gross that boys have.”

WHAT? My head snapped toward the ceiling faster than a redneck’s nose can smell road kill. How was I going to explain this to the other mothers? They send their brotherless daughters to my house for a sleep over and I return them schooled in the male anatomy.

With great relief I then heard Grace give in and reveal the password, “The password is Pickle.” OH THANK GOD. Yes, we were still referring to the same part of the male anatomy but only in the world of Grace and Gabe where girls have Virginias and boys have Pickles.

Thankfully, when both sets of parents heard the story, they laughed. Hopefully, everyone is allowed to return to the Schrecengost’s house. It sure was a fun event for everyone.

Remember everyone. Count your blessings and not your problems. It makes for much better math.

The One with Grace's Theory

Grace was looking for a pencil box to take to school and Steven reminder her that she has one with a calculator built into the lid. She said, “Maybe I will some time turn bad and then I will use it to cheat on a future math test. I better not take it.” We laughed and she then said, “What, it’s just a theory.”

The One with the Funny Man

Gabe truly cracks me up all the time. He's just a funny kid. The other day he said to me, "Mom, I love you but I'm in love with Grace. She's a hottie." I wonder what he will say when he is 16 and sees that I have documented this cuteness.

This morning was another LOL moment. I was helping him get dressed and comb his hair for school. I said, "Gabe, why don't you let me make your hair spiky today for school?" He replied with a firm, "No way." I asked, "Why don't you let momma have any fun?" And, then, he proved he is his father's son... "You could rub my back and feet. That would be fun." I cracked up. I love this kid.

The One with the Stick

I was encouraged by some good friends to share this story on my blog… so, here goes.

Anyone trying to get pregnant knows the ultimate excitement and anticipation each time it is time to pee on the magic stick. In 2001 we started to try and get pregnant shortly after 9/11. The tragedy of Grant’s (Steven’s dad) death in April of that year and the unimaginable of 9/11 left us knowing it was time to move forward with life.

It was with grand excitement that we became pregnant right away and with even greater sadness that that pregnancy ended shortly after it began. We were told to wait 3 months before trying to conceive again. A long three months later we started trying again. For the next 8 months as soon as it was possible for a pregnancy test to show positive results, I would start taking tests. On this particular morning in October, I got up at 4:00 in the morning and took the first test. Unbelievably it was positive. Around 6:00 a.m., I took the second followed by the third and the fourth. They were all joyously positive.

Even though it was very early, we couldn’t contain our excitement. We were heading to my parents and I packed two of the test sticks with me. I placed each test in a paper bag. Told my mom and dad to close their eyes and gave them each a bag. I then told them to guess what was in the bag. Each took out a stick and started exploring it with their hands. My mom figured it out very quickly and started dancing with excitement. Dad, on the other hand, intent on his task, continued to explore the stick with his hands. We finally left him off the hook and explained what it was and then encouraged him to wash his hands. : )

God’s gift was Miss Grace. She is one of the most sensitive, loving, intelligent, inspiring people I know. She is beautiful and funny and makes me want to be a better person so that I can live up to what she needs in her mom. She will do remarkable things and I’m so very proud of her. Thank you God for my gift.

P.S. Please forgive my typos and such in this story. Tears are flowing as I remember the ups and downs of this time in our lives.