Snowing!

Yay! It is finally snowing. I was really concerned that we were not going to get any and it was just going to rain, rain, rain all winter long. I'm hopeful again!

Aren't ya glad?

Obviously...I have found some old photos that I wanted to share. I'm sure I will run out soon.

Sorry rents...Cindy if you still read this, this one is for you, just so you can make fun of my mom all day at work! And seriously, why have we not done happy hour? My mom talks about you all the time...and I am pretty sure we would be best friends. That's right, I'm calling you out on my blog. :-)

Aren't you glad we don't live in a place where this hair style is still acceptable?



Or shorts this short are allowed?

Learning

There are a couple of days in my life I will never forget: riding a bike without training wheels, my first day of real school, my first kiss, meeting Melanie, graduating from high school and college and grad school, the day the first person I ever really knew died, where I was on Sept 11th, the day Christine Butto called me and offered me my first job after college, my wedding, among several others.

Looking through old photos recently, I came across this one, it was the day I learned to tie the laces on shoes. It was in pre-school, the day we went on a field trip to the pumpkin patch. My mom was a chaperone on the trip and while we were waiting to get on the bus to leave, was when the tying of the shoes finally clicked in my head.

Thinking of learning to tie my shoes makes me think of all of the other skills I learned when I was young that I still do today...and I've been more so thinking about how much more difficult it is for me to learn new things now.

For example: I got contacts (a day I will never forget, more on that soon). And when you get contacts at the eye doctor you have to sit through a little training session. Well, 42 minutes is what it took me to take the contacts that the doctor had put in my eye already, out, and then in and then out and then in again. Since then, I am almost positive me getting them in is only because of a fluke reason because every single time, I blink right before I get it in my eye, and you have no idea how frustrating this is. Okay you probably do, because who doesn't wear contacts? This is day 3 and today I get to keep them in for 10 hours...and that thought is nauseating because my eyes are so tired by the end of the day, that all they want to do is close, looking through these contacts is hard work for these eyes I decided.

But, if I had learned all this when I was little, by now, I would have been a pro at it.

I know, it will get easier. Blah Blah Blah.... :-)

Melanie

Melanie says that I never talk about her on my blog, so today I decided would be a good day to spend some time focusing on my little sister, who basically litters my website with her gorgeous face.





I was 13 years old when Melanie was born. I was at a sleep away camp in West Virginia and was shocked when my grandparents were the ones picking me up on my last day. I had that initial shock of "Oh my God, how did they die?" when I didn't see my mom, because yes, my obnoxious brain always jumps to the worst possible conclusion. Luckily, my grandparents were both wearing a matching set of smiles and when a friend asked if "she had the baby????" They said yes and we got all my stuff, packed up the car, and drove to a hospital far far away from Camp Rim Rock where I got to meet Melanie for the first time.



Now, to be honest, I was incredibly jealous of Melanie. It was hard enough being 13, dealing with the many dimensions of middle school cliques, not to mention having horrible control over my oily, gross, skin, and thin, stringy, blonde hair, plus the impending doom of the braces I didn’t even have yet on top of the fact that I have to deal with having a really super cute, adorable BABY sister. So no fair.

I’ll admit, when it was just my immediate family, Melanie as a baby was fun. The house was always littered with toys; there was always something going on, she just made the whole place livelier, parents included. The only way to get her to stop crying was to sing the Winnie the Pooh song or the Theme Song from Elmo's World on Sesame Street, which Brett sang all the time. Makes me realize how much his voice has changed...



I think it was around the time Melanie was a toddler, probably about 4 years old, that I actually started to snap out of my whole “I’m a bratty, disgruntled teenager who wants nothing to do with her family” phase. We all go through that right? (And my Mom is probably reading this right now saying hmm…I’m not sure she has ever grown out of that one.) But I assure you I have. I even remember the first vacation where I actually had a lot of fun just hanging out with my family. It was when we all hopped on an plane and flew to Disney World. The only time all 6 of us have ever been on an airplane together. Unless I have completely blocked something out, I am pretty sure the airplane ride was uneventful. I thought it was going to be horrible as I had ridden on planes before with small children.



I remember that was the vacation where I found out that Melanie broke my favorite snow globe with Cinderella and Prince Charming dancing in it. My mom and her were looking for a new one to replace it but never found one that was the same. I remember it so vividly because I can picture this one photo my mom snapped of me sitting off on a bench being angry about it and that no one had told me when it happened. Jeez…so silly to be so upset over something so small. Wish I had known that then.



I also distinctly remember another summer when Mom came home one day from getting Melanie from day camp and was really, really upset. She told me that today was the day that some stupid punk-ass teenage camp counselor (my words, not hers) decided to inform Melanie that me, Brett and Daren were not really her brothers and sister, that we were only her half siblings. I can remember feeling my heart break a little bit too. I know she knows but I hope she never forgets that none of us have ever, ever thought of her as anything but our sister. Our real sister.



And actually….that reminds me of another this other tidbit too. We were all in the car getting ready to go out to dinner and for whatever reason Melanie was describing me. She described me as “pretty, nice and sometimes mean.” I remember thinking then that I really did not want my sister thinking that her older sister was mean, that it was just unacceptable. I have consciously tried to be a better sister since then. I am hoping she wouldn’t describe me as that now, but who knows.





Anyway, now, Melanie is 10, a twig-like ballet dancer who can’t do a cartwheel to save her life and rocks out to the Jonas Brothers on a regular basis. She operates the television better than I can, and probably a computer too for that matter, is smart as all hell, a social butterfly and is incredibly stunning and surprisingly elegant for her age.



All in all, I think Melanie, or just having a little sister, has taught me a lot about my life. She has helped teach me that there are some things that just don't matter, and when they don't matter, we need not dwell on them because life is just too short. She has helped me to relize that I can be a better person and that I do have an effect on all those around me. And she has taught me that it is much better to love than to ever be jealous.


I’m sure if I forgot to say something about how wonderful she is that Melanie will post it in the comments section for me. Right?

Sleepover soon, chica??

Uhhh...

It actually just occurred to me today that it is not that people don't know how to park at my gym, it is that my gym has the narrowest parking spots ever. I think they do it on purpose because I honestly have felt like maybe I should go back in and get back on my treadmill instead of wedging myself into my driver's side door trying ever so carefully not to leave a dent in the door of the car next to me.

Can't believe I never realized that before.

She's perfect.

I'm honestly not sure I have ever loved any animal as much as I love her.



Semi-regularly blogging will be resumed in the next couple days. Promise. For real this time.

It's doing it again...

I shouldn't complain because I can't really remember it raining all that recently, but I think it should just turn to snow like the weather peeps keep saying it will.

Would You Rather Saturday!/Apologies

First and foremost, I will promise to stop neglecting my blog very soon.

Second, would you rather have a mountain range after you or a sexual position officially named after you?