Misunderstanding.

Sunday, the Priest from our church retired.  We attended his last Mass.  Yesterday, The Kid and I were discussing his future, while the girls played around us.

The Kid: So where is Father going?

Me: He is moving to Chicago.

The Kid: With his daughter that lives there?

Me: Yes.  And I'm sure he will travel.

The Kid: And we are getting a new Father?  I wonder what he'll be like.  How old is he?

Me: I haven't heard.  I don't really know anything about him.  I hope, he is as good with all you kids, as Father was.

Just then, Coco walks up to me with her faced crinkled and crushed.  Big tears in her eyes, lip out, chin shaking...
Me: What's wrong?!  What happened?

Coco: Mom, I don't want a new Daddy!  I don't want my Dad to move to Chicago.... I want to keep my father! (big dripping tears...)

Me: Hun!  Not OUR Daddy!  Your Daddy is not moving to Chicago!  The Father from the church is moving.  Father Rickey!  Not our daddy.

Now... take a moment and re-read The Kid and I's conversation. Ouch.  Poor Coco.  Eavesdropping can be dangerous!

Flip the Page, on to Your Next Chapter....

This picture, is one of my most favorite pictures of just me.  Not particularly because of 'me' but because I love everything about the feeling of this picture.  Coach took this on Bourbon Street in New Orleans.  Just the two of us, were strolling on a beautiful morning.  This picture, represents one of my most Happy Places.

Today, my mom is retiring from State Farm.  After many combined years working in insurance.  By the end of this month, she will be opening a new family friendly candy store named Coco's...
This past weekend, we celebrated her birthday by helping paint the inside and outside of her new shop.  The color palate, inspired by my New Orleans picture.

When we were growing up, our home was definitely our Happy Place.  We were a Home kinda family.  We always had friends over.  We would have family movie nights.  Family pizza nights.  Celebrated New Year's with game nights, just the four of us.  We had quiet Christmases at home.  Quiet Saturday morning cartoon and doughnut weekends.  Our home was safe, quiet, relaxing and full of love.  A very Happy Place.
Sadly today, my mother's home is less happy.  It is so difficult with my brother's illness, to predict the mood of the home.  Some days, he may be happy and calm.  Other days, he may be unable to sleep, unable to relax, anxious or angry.  Increasingly, the long commute to work coupled by the unrest at home, has taken a tremendous toll on my mother.
She enjoys her friends at State Farm.  She has met amazing people, especially women, who have also crossed over into my life.  I know there have been many times, those friendships have helped to make her work place, a happy escape for my mother.  And I am grateful for them, for that.
But it is time, for her to return to her home town.
It is time for her to relax.
To enjoy more quiet mornings. To take more long and winding walks with her very excited grandchildren. 

Most of all, I wish so very much that Coco's Sweet Shop, will become a tremendous emotional success for her.  I hope children, will enjoy chatting with our Grammy, as they select a sweet snack.  I hope her little shop, brings a little fudge slice of joy to our town.
And I pray, her shop becomes her new Happy Place.
All my love, mom.
I wish you the very best on your next chapter.

Happy Birthday!

To our Princess Grace of Monaco,

 

You have become such a beautiful young lady. A little version of your pretty mother, except with the most gorgeous long Rapunzel hair eva!

Again, I feel I hardly know your best traits because you only grace me with a mini smile now and again... But if the way The Kid and your father boast about you, is a judge of your character: than you must be far beyond extraordinary!

The cousins have voted you the most hilarious, hands down.  They constantly surround you in a crowd of hysterical giggles.  My hope, is to have a chance to one day enjoy your humour! 



 

(The Kid took this lovely picture!)

I wish you many happy days.  Many loyal friends.  And I even wish you, many more opportunities to wear several different uniforms, in Raider purple (see... that's how much I love you!)
Happy Birthday, Princess.
All our lovin- 

(Please remember.. the big kids check their bday Comment section!)

Sweetbreads and Warhol Marry...

If you have been a long time blog follower, you have watched so much of their courtship.  They are like our very own Ross/Rachel or Jim/Pam! Of course, we were all honored to share their engagement.  And Sunday evening, in a glorious break from the rain, they became husband and wife!

 

The Kid walking Gramma down the aisle.

 Coach and his VERY tall and beautiful bridesmaid, Sweetbreads' sister.

Handsome Coach. 

 

 Cute Quincy.

 

 Galway Girl, pretty in pink.

 

 Sweetbreads loving her groom.

You may kiss the gorgeous Bride!

 

 The Flower Girls.  So cute.

 Coco, unable to resist throwing up her Rock On!

 Coach's beautiful siblings.  Gramma and Grandpa, job well done..

 Warhol and his 'babies'.

 

That version of the brothers is nice...

But this one with The Commish, may be the best picture ever taken... it's probably gonna be the version we print... Totally one of his expressions.

Congratulations Sweetbreads and Warhol.
I wish you MANY many years of wedded bliss.
Keep laughing together.
Always hold hands.
And enjoy the small stuff.
Love you both.

To the Bride:

Yesterday, you were a birthday girl.

Today, you were a beautiful bride.

Tomorrow, you will be a wonderful wife.

 

Sweetbreads,
as I toasted you earlier today..
I could not have hand picked a better sister, to join this already amazing group of women, I belong too... And because of your influence, I have another great brother.
Happy Birthday and welcome to our family.

A Sorta R-rated Roast

You know how you hear stories about a Groom being taken on stage at a strip club, during his bachelor party and the strippers will knock him around... spank him, whip him, humiliate him. I don't really understand the logic behind it.

Poor Warhol has been getting a small slice of this over the last two weeks, from his siblings.  And here are two examples:

(PS- You're welcome Blog World)

 

#1 Mother's Day.

We were all separated, living our own lives, when Commish sent out a mass text, attached to a photograph. (which you HAVE to understand was taken by Warhol's grand-mother, when he was 16).  Commish added a caption, underneath....



 (Man, I love Summer!!)

 

Sweetbreads: In 2 weeks, that'll be alllllll mine.

 

Chili D: I've totally lost interest in Summer!

... Nice AJ's tho.

 

Commish: Are AJ's really short, tight shorts?

 

Chili D: No, them are called ball huggers.  I was referring to the Air Jordans.

 

Warhol: Xxx-Bleepit!!!!

 

Me: This text thread is by far the best part of my Mother's Day.

 

Warhol: My Mother's Day is ruined.

 

Chili D: I'm seriously considering making this pic the Linds and Chad Facebook cover.

 

Warhol: That made my stomach hurt.

 

Me: I can't wait until Commish projects it across the entire ceiling of the wedding reception tent.

 

Warhol: Little did I know.. Deep down in my heart, there was a car seat with Sweetbread's name on it..

 

Sweetbreads: Ohhhh so wrong.  But hilarious.

 

Commish: 'Like' every comment on this thread.

 

Flag Girl: I want to save this thread in archives.

 

Me: Is 'archives' code for the blog??

 

Warhol: Ugh....

 

(Sorry Warhol, but 'Ugh' sounded like a Yes to me!)

 

 

#2 The Bachelorette Party.

One of the clues on the Scavenger Hunt, was to locate a stranger that looks like Warhol and take his picture.  Our group accomplished this clue, probably 5 hours after we started drinking....

 

This guy... was my pick:

Flag Girl got a picture with her pick...

This man, in the red shirt, was Doc's pick..

With each stranger picked and each picture taken, we laughed harder and harder... Kinda like this:

So there you have it.
Obviously, poor Warhol totally needs to marry into a new family.  Because his siblings (and spouses) are really a bunch of Bxtches.

My Baby is Four

On Saturday, my baby turned Four. 

And while our life has been in a constant whirlwind of events, activities and frenzied schedules... I've been quietly contemplating of her birthday post.  Because honestly, there are no words to describe my Coco.  She is beyond the written word.

Obviously, the entire blog population is familiar with Coco's more obvious character traits... She is 'full of everything'.  Full of spunk, glitter and glam.  She is full of volume, of expression and flair. 



She is a walking talking acting class muse. 
Coco smiles large.  She'll wink you happy or glare you uncomfortable.  She may run and leap into your arms or blatantly ignore you to suit her fancy.  She'll knock out her hip or dramatically speak with her hands to emphasize her point and engage your attention. 

Coco looks exactly as I had dreamed her.  Like a smaller version of myself... if perhaps, a story book fairy had waved her wand and made each of my traits more sparkly, more exceptional and more captivating.

Because her personality is larger than life, it is easy to miss that Coco is actually very dainty.  Though beyond her petite legs and adorable face, there is nothing small about her.  She is completely unabashed and unapologetic.  She demands the attention at every occasion and craves a crowd of admirers.  She is the self-appointed lead singer of her solo rock band.

 

 

Without question, Coco's most endearing quality, is inherited from her Daddy.  Coco loves equally with fierce unwavering loyalty.  She enters a room with an infectious bright light and shines that light around her.  While she demands attention, she will also pay that attention back to you.  Every person is her Favorite.  Each of us, credit her for lifting our spirits and warming our insides with her Coco-goodness.

 

Coco, very well may be the death of me.  She is trying my patience, with the conviction of a teenager.  Outfit choosing, hair brushing, clothes shopping have already become activities I dread.  I am completely missing the cheer leading gene, while Coco's is a mutated super gene, completely foreign to me.  She has declared pig tails 'over and done'.   She would gladly prance to the local grocery on a Tuesday afternoon, in full Gypsy dress attire.  There will never be too much sparkle or two many sequence.  If Tink is my carefree, dancing to her own bongo drummer hippie chick... Coco is a 1957 Georgia Belle Debutant.

 

If I were to utter that infamous mommy line "If so-n-so jumped off a cliff, would you REALLY jump off to follow her..??" Coco would respond without a blink of hesitation "No because I would have jumped first."
Coco may be my last baby but she will never come in last again.  She will be noticed.  She will not be forgotten.  And that's just fine by me.

My Sweet Coco-
Never lose your sequenced flair.
Twirl a random Gypsy skirt, anytime you please.
Remain completely indescribable.
Always stay as golden as your daddy and as strong as your mother. You are the best thing, to ever result from my stubborn streak.
All my love-

Sweetbreads in Wrigleyville.

While waiting to find even 10 quiet minutes to compose my poor ignored baby's birthday post... I will appease the crowd (aka Mrs.) with a photo recap of Sweetbreads Bachelorette Party.
We took a large group to Wrigleyville for the afternoon. And I sent 3 teams off for a scavenger hunt (cuz that's what I do...)
Here are a few of the adventures (mostly from the Calmer Slightly Older-ish Lady Team)

 The whole group.  Before.

 

 (Doc under Clark. Funny stuff. Except, maybe not for her brothers....)

 

 And NO... You are not allowed to stand on the statue.. We found that out very quickly.

 On a Bike Carriage ride for Two.

 

Ohhh... Flag Girl...

 The Whole Group. Much later.

The Bachelorette... I'm pretty sure everyone needs a bright Cubbie blue Tutu. Why wouldn't you??