The Jersey

I have never been into the latest fashions, I hate doing my hair, mostly because it refuses to cooperate and I don't spend much time on makeup.  I didn't get the dress-me-up-and-make-me-look-pretty gene.  So, I never expected one of my kids to be this way.  No of course it isn't my daughter.  She is way too young to care what I dress her in.  It is my son.  My son LOVES wearing jerseys.  And he is even specific about which top goes with which bottom. More than once I have tried to pair certain shorts with a regular old t-shirt only to be told, "MOM, those go with my jerseys!"  In the heat of this past summer, my son almost every day wore a hot, unbreatheable jersey.  The only time he isn't in one is when they are all dirty and I haven't done the laundry.  He then very sadly asks me why all his jerseys are still dirty and I walk, head down, into the laundry room and start a load.  I pick my battles and this is one I don't want to mess with. 

It makes him immeasurably happy to wear a jersey.  Just look at the smile in this photo.  Ear to ear!  He knows the numbers that go on each and will ask for the specific one.  "Hey Mom?  Is my number 8 jersey dirty?"  He is currently getting worried because his number 1 jersey is getting too small.  It was a hand me down like most that we have and he is dreading the day it goes away.  We have certain places he can't wear them, like church, although church functions are just fine.  He gets to wear them to school, but I did feel the need to let his teacher know I wash them often for fear she would think he wears the same clothes every day.  I know when he is older, I am going to look back at his photos and laugh at the fact that in most every picture he is in, he is wearing a jersey.  Until then, I am just going to keep the washer running and maybe look for a good sale on jerseys. :)

On this Day

On this day, 10 years ago, I was in the Derby school district office turning in paperwork to become a substitute teacher.  The radio was playing as I waited and that was when I heard of the first plane hitting the World Trade Center.  I rushed home, turned on the tv and called my husband who was at work.  I was watching when the second plane hit.  I will never forget the exact angle that plane was banked.  The speed it traveled.  The fire.  I was in the middle of the country but it felt like it was happening in my backyard.  I didn't want to watch yet I couldn't take my eyes off of the dust.  The people.  The photos in my mind kept going back to the people falling, jumping.  All of the paper floating endlessly in the sky.  To this day, I still see it in my mind.  And I wasn't even there.  We live close to an air base and at times, the KC135s fly routes that as they bank to land, look remarkably similar to those planes that hit the towers and I have to look away.

Life changed for me that day.  Life was fragile and I saw it through my own eyes.  My husband was in the Army National Guard.  That day would be the beginning of many nights wondering, worrying if he would be called war.  Enduring the early morning phone calls from his unit to be ready, today just might be the day.  I know now there were several times he waited in line at Fort Riley to leave right then.  Only to be passed over, those around him chosen.  I think we all struggled with the call to action and a call to be safe.  You want to do something but at the same time hold on to your family with all your might. 

Life changed for us.  Like so many.  I don't know why but I have always felt somehow personally part of that day.  I try to take things slower, hug my kids longer and harder, don't sweat the small stuff.  It is hard to do.  We live in a world that moves so fast and those around you don't always appreciate a slower pace.  It is hard to brush off the little things that happen during the day.  It is hard to only worry about those things that can be changed and cope with those that can't.  I am not as tough as I once was.  More quiet.  Less opinionated.  More accepting.  I see significance in the rolling hills of the prairie, a dad playing with his child at the park, my dog placing her head on my foot.  Important things.

It has been 10 years since 9/11 but the day never seems to get easier to get through.  The following is how I saw the events of today, 10 years later.  The memorials are beautiful and perfect and I hope to visit them one day.  We should all visit them one day. 


On This Day

On This Day, the breeze blows sweetly through a field of flowers
Grace bobbing in the wind

On This Day, the bells ring
Echoing through the emptiness

On This Day, fingertips trace a line
A line that makes a name, a name that was a life

On This Day, a voice speaks
Of a father, mother, brother, sister, wife, husband, partner, friend

On This Day, tears still fall
Welling up in the depths of lives moving on

On This Day, the silence is the same
A quiet that envelopes the heart

Addiction

I have a small problem.  I have been hiding this for a little while.  I think it is time for me to man up and admit I have an addiction.  An addiction to watching Adam Richman eat and eat and eat.  I can't stop watching Man v. Food on the Travel Channel!  Adam Richman travels all across the country eating in every recommended hometown restaurant he can find.  Warning: Don't watch this show if you are hungry or about to go to the grocery store.  Not only does he eat some of the yummiest looking food on the planet, but he participates in whatever eating contest the restaurant has.  Nothing is too big, too hot or too fried.  He wants his picture on that wall.  This show isn't for someone who likes to eat like a rabbit.  Mind you, I don't know of anyone who eats like this but man is it entertaining.  I have watched him cook a dish so spicy that they had to wear gas masks.  He once dug into a hamburger so big you couldn't see his head behind it when he took a bite.  Tonight he polished off a 48oz. steak in less than 20 minutes and lived to tell about it.  Not only is his eating entertaining but the guy is downright funny.  His witty comments crack me up and I need a good laugh.  I am now getting my husband hooked.  Although it just makes him want to eat.  My food budget may have to be increased if I keep this up.  Have a minute?  Check the show out.  I promise you won't be disappointed.  I will also promise that you will say at least 10 times during the show, "He cannot possibly eat all that."  Sit back, relax, watch and just say a little prayer that you don't have his cholesterol numbers.

Travel Channel Man V. Food

Wyatt's First Day of Preschool!

Wyatt, his dad and I have been talking about this day for quite a while.  New things make him a bit nervous and so we wanted him to be fully prepared for the big first day of preschool.  We read the book Llama Llama Misses Mama a lot.  It is perfect for those headed off to school and explains the process and goes through the emotions a little one feels when their mom and dad leave them at school.  We took him school shopping and let him pick out his backpack.  We talked about all the fun he was going to have.  Pointed out his school when we drove by.  A week before his first day we met his teacher, Mr Relph, and he got to peruse his classroom.  Well, today was the day.  He picked out what he wanted to wear.  A KSU football jersey (of course!), his "comfy" shorts and his "fast" shoes.

He had the biggest smile on his face!  Walking into the school, he slowed his pace a bit but kept going.  He hung his backpack up in the room and grabbed my hand.  He stood behind me a bit, peeking at everything and everyone, including the kiddo who was screaming like crazy, and walked with me to find his chair.  He sat rather tentatively and I handed him a blue crayon and the paper in front of him that said This Is What I Colored On My First Day Of Preschool and he was off.

I told him I would see him later and he said "Okay".  Still coloring.  So I told him Dad and I were leaving and I would see him after school by the flag pole and he said "Okay, Bye Mom!"  Never looked up.  It was that easy.  Piece of cake!

When I went to pick him up, the class was on the playground so I hid next to the school in the shade and watched them play for a bit.  So cute.  15 little 3 year olds running around, climbing, jumping.  Loving life.  They got their backpacks and walked, holding hands up to the flag poles where all the moms waited with hugs.  He was so excited and even told me he didn't cry at all.  Ahh.  My big boy.  So Thursday, we do it again and something tells me he has this down.  Mrs. Relph said he was so good, helped pick up things and was a great friend to all the kids.  Music to a Mamas ears!  Happy first day of school buddy!

Deetda

I think when grandparents find out they have a grandchild on the way, they fantasize just a little bit about what the little one will call them.  Grandma probably does this moreso than Grandpa but just the same, I think they all do it.  Unfortunately, I don't think they have much control over it sometimes.  Somehow, my son has named my Dad (his Grandpa Kemper), Deetda.  Yep, Deetda.  He called him this from the get-go and and I think it is adorable.  Totally fun, just like their relationship. 

The minute these two see each other it is on.  The laughter, the giggling uncontrollably, the craziness, the trouble.  Anything Deetda does is the funniest thing on the planet to Wyatt.  I have literally seen the kid fall over he is laughing so hard.  They just have a plain good time.

When Deetda is around, Wyatt is on point.  Nothing gets left undone.  If it is to eat, they eat it.  If it is to play with, let them play.  Two peas in a pod!  I think it is so special the relationship they have.  You can't have too much silly in your life!  My Dad may wish Wyatt had a different name for him but I think it totally fits.  Any Wyatt wouldn't want it any other way.

Garden Time

I have always wanted a nice big garden.  My Mom planted one every year when I was growing up.  Not a small garden but a big garden that fed us for a year.  We had corn, tomatoes, rhubarb, zucchini, strawberries, beans, peas, asparagus, peppers, onions, carrots and oh boy I know I am missing something.  Mom would can and freeze everything so we would have good food to eat all winter.  I loved it.  I loved being able to eat strawberries straight out of the garden.  I have an intense love of sweet corn. On the cob or off, I could eat it every day.

My garden, on the other hand, leaves something to be desired.  I do not.  Let me repeat this.  I do not have a great thumb.  If it goes into the ground on my property, it will probably die.  Granted, with two little kids I find it hard to get the time to tend the plants but I guess I try.  I also now live in a place with clay soil.  If you have never tried to grow anything in clay soil, count your blessings.  It is NOT conducive to growing plants.  Weeds love it, plants no.  Regardless, my Mom and son planted a garden this year while I tended my new baby girl.  They planted beans, zucchini, tomatoes and later on onions.

Wyatt got his little scoop and rake out and Grandma helped him dig the holes and get the seeds or plants in the ground safely.  Wyatt doesn't like to get his hands dirty but he had a good time!

The soil looks not too bad in this picture but don't let it fool you.  It is a thin layer I brought in to help break up the clay.  Our Summer has been almost the hottest yet.  We are one day away from setting a record here for the most days over 100 degrees so you can imagine what my garden looks like.  The only thing I was able to save from the moles, grasshoppers, rabbits and heat were the tomatoes.  The weather has given us somewhat of a break lately and they are finally getting some blooms.

 One day maybe I will have a big beautiful garden like my Mom's.  In the meantime I am going to have to settle for small and efficient!  My strawberries I planted two years ago are blooming again since it has cooled down a bit and next Summer I think they are going to be great.  Maybe my tomatoes will grow bigger than the size of a golf ball.  But regardless of my poor attempts, my son (and later on my daughter) will know where their food comes from and with any luck, one of them will get a green thumb from their Grandma!

3rd Annual Kemper Family Farm Weekend

The Kempers

There are some things that will never change for me.  I love my family, I love where I come from and I love my Grandma Dolly.  Three years ago with the birth of my son I realized the importance of family.  I wanted him to know his cousins. First, second, third and so on.  I wanted him to know his great aunts and uncles and his only living great grandparent.  And I wanted them to know him.  So began the annual Kemper Family Farm Weekend.  For three years, those of us in the family tree under John and Dolly (Viola) Kemper get together at the family farm.  We have a project or two to complete.  The first year we painted Grandma's house, the next year her garage and this year we did yard work and washed windows and cupboards in her house.  It is a way for us to show appreciation for how much she means to us by brightening up her little corner of the world.  The best part?  Spending time with each other.  We laugh, tell stories, eat and reconnect after a year of busy lives.  This year we were so blessed to have the largest group yet.  There were six little kids (5 boys and 1 girl) ages 3 and 4!  Wow were they fun to watch!  It brought back so many memories of being little on the farm and playing with the cousins. 

Friday night we all headed out to the Logan Lake for pizza and smores.  Uncle Marc and Aunt Tam brought the Ranger and 4 wheeler to give rides and the kids tried to skip rocks on the lake.  Everyone stayed to watch the sun set.  Boy were those smores good!

Saturday we were up bright and early.  Homemade cinnamon rolls and cherry bars (cherries courtesy of Grandma Kemper's trees) were for breakfast.  Then we started in on the yard and housework.  Even the little kiddos got involved!

The grandkids were in charge of lunch and we had grilled hamburgers, hot dogs and brats and lots of yummy sides and desserts.  After lunch everyone either headed for a nap, to visit or to cool off in the city pool.  Dinner that night was at the church hall.  Aunt Tam and Rhea fried up the best fried chicken you can imagine.  Mom made the mashed potatoes and holy cow were we all stuffed when we left!

Frying chicken!!!!!

Mom cooking in the church kitchen

It was such a great time and I am grateful to everyone who could make it back.  I am bound and determined that this is one family who will not lose sight of the importance of each other.  My kids will remember just like I do, the farm and all the fun had there.  And I hope that Grandma Kemper enjoys having her kids, grandkids and great grandkids around her, even if it is just for a weekend.  Oh and just one more thing that will never change for me.... my memories!