Hope Is The Thing

We went last night to the Relay for Life event at the Fairgrounds. It had been a few years since we went to this, but we had such a good time last time and we had nothing going on so we decided why not go check out the fun.

Our Relay for Life event is really amazing. It's the only one I've ever been to, and it's like this incredible festival on steroids. People are singing, and dancing, and celebrating. There are games and gifts and just this undefinable JOY in the air. You see hugs, you see tears, you see people walking around in silly costumes and just exuding their happiness and giving it out to others freely.

What I learned last night is this, while the mood at these events is probably all about the same, I'm not wrong in feeling WONDER at the size and scope of ours. Why? Because...

This thing is the largest in the world. That rather explains A LOT.

What makes it really wonderful is how all of the booths have activities, little games and things for the kids who are too small to understand the "bigger" meaning of the event, but these things still create a positive association for the event that I think is important.

We didn't scratch the surface on the activities that were available to do, for sure. But we are many and it's hard to wrangle us through stuff so I think we did ok.

There were clowns to meet and even Chopper was there, our old friend from the Braves games.

We had some BBQ and hot dogs under a tent with Chinese lanterns and enjoyed the warm southern evening as night fell. It was al fresco tent dining at it's finest.

Yes Charlie is in love with that Coke.

It's such a juxtaposition, to be surrounded by all the luminaries in memory of those who died from the various kinds of cancer but to feel so much happiness. Maybe that's really the point of Relay for Life. It's not just here to remind us to celebrate the lives of those who didn't make it or who are still struggling with cancer, it's also to remind us to celebrate ALL of our lives. Celebrate even on the days that seem crappy. Celebrate when things aren't going the way you want.

I heard someone say, recently, upon hearing that I had four children "Oh - you are so rich." Julia echoed it as we ate our dinner, "We're rich." She was saying this because we had both coke AND cookies with our dinner I think. 

The truth is, we are. We're SO rich. We're filthy rich. We will never have all the money or all the things or the best house or the best car.  But I don't really care about any of that. What I have is the most important stuff in the whole world. 

I woke up today feeling tired and achy and I'd like a nap, on the beach preferably. But since that isn't happening I should also note that I woke up happy, and in love with my family. Life is really good. I feel like I soaked up so much good energy at Relay For Life that I'm good for a long time.

Hope floats. Always.

Hope Is The Thing

We went last night to the Relay for Life event at the Fairgrounds. It had been a few years since we went to this, but we had such a good time last time and we had nothing going on so we decided why not go check out the fun.

Our Relay for Life event is really amazing. It's the only one I've ever been to, and it's like this incredible festival on steroids. People are singing, and dancing, and celebrating. There are games and gifts and just this undefinable JOY in the air. You see hugs, you see tears, you see people walking around in silly costumes and just exuding their happiness and giving it out to others freely.

What I learned last night is this, while the mood at these events is probably all about the same, I'm not wrong in feeling WONDER at the size and scope of ours. Why? Because...

This thing is the largest in the world. That rather explains A LOT.

What makes it really wonderful is how all of the booths have activities, little games and things for the kids who are too small to understand the "bigger" meaning of the event, but these things still create a positive association for the event that I think is important.

We didn't scratch the surface on the activities that were available to do, for sure. But we are many and it's hard to wrangle us through stuff so I think we did ok.

There were clowns to meet and even Chopper was there, our old friend from the Braves games.

We had some BBQ and hot dogs under a tent with Chinese lanterns and enjoyed the warm southern evening as night fell. It was al fresco tent dining at it's finest.

Yes Charlie is in love with that Coke.

It's such a juxtaposition, to be surrounded by all the luminaries in memory of those who died from the various kinds of cancer but to feel so much happiness. Maybe that's really the point of Relay for Life. It's not just here to remind us to celebrate the lives of those who didn't make it or who are still struggling with cancer, it's also to remind us to celebrate ALL of our lives. Celebrate even on the days that seem crappy. Celebrate when things aren't going the way you want.

I heard someone say, recently, upon hearing that I had four children "Oh - you are so rich." Julia echoed it as we ate our dinner, "We're rich." She was saying this because we had both coke AND cookies with our dinner I think. 

The truth is, we are. We're SO rich. We're filthy rich. We will never have all the money or all the things or the best house or the best car.  But I don't really care about any of that. What I have is the most important stuff in the whole world. 

I woke up today feeling tired and achy and I'd like a nap, on the beach preferably. But since that isn't happening I should also note that I woke up happy, and in love with my family. Life is really good. I feel like I soaked up so much good energy at Relay For Life that I'm good for a long time.

Hope floats. Always.

Someone To Talk To

I think Charlie doesn't like that he has to share me with everyone else in the morning. The past few years Charlie has gotten up first, and he and I have had our early AM together alone, no one else had to wake up until after his bus left.

Now all three kids wake up at the same time, so Charlie has taken to getting up JUST a bit before the rest of them. I'm not sure if he's just an early riser, light sleeper, or he wants his alone minutes.

He still comes in to the bedroom where I am seated on the edge of the bed and climbs onto my lap like he's a very little boy, wrapping his arms and legs around me. He rests his head on my shoulder and almost goes limp like a baby, snuggling close.

"Good morning, Charlie," I whisper in his ear and kiss his cheek.
"HI" he answers and squeezes me. "Mwah" he makes the kiss sound near me. That's my kiss this time. "I luh you." That means he loves me.

"Do you want to go have fun at school today?" I ask him.

"Yeah," he answers.

"Then let's get dressed!" I gently nudge him off my lap.

"OKAY!" he says excitedly.

That's an extensive, and in depth conversation with my Charlie.  Charlie will answer some questions correctly very consistently. Charlie will also answer some question with "TICKLE!" so you never know what you're going to get.

But this morning, we had a talk. He always is a little bit happier when he's communicated with me. And I admit that as a mom, I'm happy when my 11 year old tells me he loves me.

Love is a hard concept to teach - not the kind of love you show, but that the love you show = that word LOVE. I do love them of course, but I wasn't ever sure they'd understand "I love you" as a concept. There are a  lot of days when you just feel like the autism zoo keeper - that you exist just to meet their demands and life requirements. It was an unspoken dream of mine, to hear them say they loved me, not as a mimic, but as something they said intentionally and with meaning.

One of the things I did for years and years was when I was cuddling them, I'd whisper "I love you, I love you SO MUCH" and squeeze them tight. I wanted them to associate that feeling, the physical cuddling with love. It felt like the best way to express it, to give them a physical association, one that was positive and snuggly and was a happy thing.

I wondered for a long time whether they would ever get it, whether "I love you" would ever be anything but some words they could say. Last week after our long, hot day at Noah's Ark we were putting on pajamas and I was recapping the day with Miles.

"Did you see animals today?" I asked.

"Animals," he answered.

"Did you see tigers?" I asked, hoping he wouldn't just repeat.

"Tigers," he answered.

I pulled his pajama shirt on over his head and held his gaze for a moment. "Miles, did you have fun today?"

At that point he smiled, kissed me and said "I love you" and squeezed me hard.

I think he gets it. I think they both get it.

And I think Miles really liked Noah's Ark.
Tweet

Someone To Talk To

I think Charlie doesn't like that he has to share me with everyone else in the morning. The past few years Charlie has gotten up first, and he and I have had our early AM together alone, no one else had to wake up until after his bus left.

Now all three kids wake up at the same time, so Charlie has taken to getting up JUST a bit before the rest of them. I'm not sure if he's just an early riser, light sleeper, or he wants his alone minutes.

He still comes in to the bedroom where I am seated on the edge of the bed and climbs onto my lap like he's a very little boy, wrapping his arms and legs around me. He rests his head on my shoulder and almost goes limp like a baby, snuggling close.

"Good morning, Charlie," I whisper in his ear and kiss his cheek.
"HI" he answers and squeezes me. "Mwah" he makes the kiss sound near me. That's my kiss this time. "I luh you." That means he loves me.

"Do you want to go have fun at school today?" I ask him.

"Yeah," he answers.

"Then let's get dressed!" I gently nudge him off my lap.

"OKAY!" he says excitedly.

That's an extensive, and in depth conversation with my Charlie.  Charlie will answer some questions correctly very consistently. Charlie will also answer some question with "TICKLE!" so you never know what you're going to get.

But this morning, we had a talk. He always is a little bit happier when he's communicated with me. And I admit that as a mom, I'm happy when my 11 year old tells me he loves me.

Love is a hard concept to teach - not the kind of love you show, but that the love you show = that word LOVE. I do love them of course, but I wasn't ever sure they'd understand "I love you" as a concept. There are a  lot of days when you just feel like the autism zoo keeper - that you exist just to meet their demands and life requirements. It was an unspoken dream of mine, to hear them say they loved me, not as a mimic, but as something they said intentionally and with meaning.

One of the things I did for years and years was when I was cuddling them, I'd whisper "I love you, I love you SO MUCH" and squeeze them tight. I wanted them to associate that feeling, the physical cuddling with love. It felt like the best way to express it, to give them a physical association, one that was positive and snuggly and was a happy thing.

I wondered for a long time whether they would ever get it, whether "I love you" would ever be anything but some words they could say. Last week after our long, hot day at Noah's Ark we were putting on pajamas and I was recapping the day with Miles.

"Did you see animals today?" I asked.

"Animals," he answered.

"Did you see tigers?" I asked, hoping he wouldn't just repeat.

"Tigers," he answered.

I pulled his pajama shirt on over his head and held his gaze for a moment. "Miles, did you have fun today?"

At that point he smiled, kissed me and said "I love you" and squeezed me hard.

I think he gets it. I think they both get it.

And I think Miles really liked Noah's Ark.
Tweet

This Is What Love Looks Like

These are strangers to me. They were coming out the door of physical therapy as I was going in. Her leg is in a cast from the knee down, and she's got a walker thing on rollers that she rests her knee on. He opened the door for her, asking "Honey did it hurt a lot?" as they went past me.

That's when I saw it. Her purse.

Pink, with tassles and glitter and geegaws my pic above doesn't convey. I couldn't get my phone to load fast enough to get a close up.

Her purse, slung over his shoulder without a second thought, as he helps her down the sidewalk to their car. The concern on his face is priceless, and the tenderness in that one act, just holding her ridiculous and awesome girly purse without a care made me almost cry. I heard him in a distance ask her if she wanted to go get some ice cream. Heck yes I bet she did.

That's what love looks like. It's isn't lingerie or perfectly clean homes, it isn't fancy dinners or even an ideal life. It's messy, it's clumsy, and sometimes it's hurty.

Real love will always carry your purse.
Tweet

This Is What Love Looks Like

These are strangers to me. They were coming out the door of physical therapy as I was going in. Her leg is in a cast from the knee down, and she's got a walker thing on rollers that she rests her knee on. He opened the door for her, asking "Honey did it hurt a lot?" as they went past me.

That's when I saw it. Her purse.

Pink, with tassles and glitter and geegaws my pic above doesn't convey. I couldn't get my phone to load fast enough to get a close up.

Her purse, slung over his shoulder without a second thought, as he helps her down the sidewalk to their car. The concern on his face is priceless, and the tenderness in that one act, just holding her ridiculous and awesome girly purse without a care made me almost cry. I heard him in a distance ask her if she wanted to go get some ice cream. Heck yes I bet she did.

That's what love looks like. It's isn't lingerie or perfectly clean homes, it isn't fancy dinners or even an ideal life. It's messy, it's clumsy, and sometimes it's hurty.

Real love will always carry your purse.
Tweet

The Green Concert!

The big Paul McCartney concert this past weekend was a GREEN Concert - no parking provided and we all had to load up on the Marta to get downtown. This might've been greener had Atlanta actually built trains all the way out to the suburbs - driving TO the train station 20 minutes or more is somewhat counter-intuitive.

Regardless we made it to the Doraville station and jumped on the next southbound Marta along with all the other blanket carrying 40 somethings.

And we were off!

After we walked the million miles from Midtown station to Piedmont park we found a comfy post in the field and took in the sights. And we obtained some delicious festival food. I went with an Atlanta Tradition - The Varsity - WHAT'LL YA HAVE?? My hunny had a burrito. I think. My mind is fuzzy and he's not here to ask. Let's call it a burrito.

We should've known from the great breeze and cooling weather that rain couldn't be far off and about halfway through the show we got completely soaked. It was unpleasant - but given it was the 40th anniversary of Woodstock - somewhat apropos.

It was also, significantly enough - the 45th anniversary of the Beatles SHEA STADIUM concert. Which was sort of exhilarating - and Paul reminisced and played tunes from that show which he doesn't normally play. He also played Give Peace a Chance and spoke very lovingly of John and George, referring to John as "My Best Friend" which was pretty tearjerking.

That being said, now that I have seen Paul McCartney - I never need to see another concert. I probably WILL see other concerts but I have never in my life been so completely thrilled and just energized by a show. In the midst of the singing and the frenzied dancing going on all around you sort of just GET IT. This is why the girls when crazy when the Beatles Arrived. It's this MAGNETISM, with talent and humility and the fact that he was simply having such a good time - and inviting us all to come along. Paul McCartney was literally the best concert I've ever seen in my life. Absolutely brilliant.

As an aside - I think it's negative that the religious freaks always park outside of concerts peddling negativity and judgment. Did anyone ever stop and find innerpeace from this sort of judgmental bullshit? You know what was beautiful and sending out love to our fellow man? It was 50 THOUSAND people singing GIVE PEACE A CHANCE at the top of their lungs. It was 50 THOUSAND people walking down 10th Streeting singing HEY JUDE at the top of their lungs, smiling and laughing and singing together - in happiness and joy. There was no sex, no violence - it was pure joy and love radiating from a mass of strangers. And that, ladies and gentlemen - was what love and acceptance really feels like. Thank you Paul McCartney for giving us those moments.

The Green Concert!

The big Paul McCartney concert this past weekend was a GREEN Concert - no parking provided and we all had to load up on the Marta to get downtown. This might've been greener had Atlanta actually built trains all the way out to the suburbs - driving TO the train station 20 minutes or more is somewhat counter-intuitive.

Regardless we made it to the Doraville station and jumped on the next southbound Marta along with all the other blanket carrying 40 somethings.

And we were off!

After we walked the million miles from Midtown station to Piedmont park we found a comfy post in the field and took in the sights. And we obtained some delicious festival food. I went with an Atlanta Tradition - The Varsity - WHAT'LL YA HAVE?? My hunny had a burrito. I think. My mind is fuzzy and he's not here to ask. Let's call it a burrito.

We should've known from the great breeze and cooling weather that rain couldn't be far off and about halfway through the show we got completely soaked. It was unpleasant - but given it was the 40th anniversary of Woodstock - somewhat apropos.

It was also, significantly enough - the 45th anniversary of the Beatles SHEA STADIUM concert. Which was sort of exhilarating - and Paul reminisced and played tunes from that show which he doesn't normally play. He also played Give Peace a Chance and spoke very lovingly of John and George, referring to John as "My Best Friend" which was pretty tearjerking.

That being said, now that I have seen Paul McCartney - I never need to see another concert. I probably WILL see other concerts but I have never in my life been so completely thrilled and just energized by a show. In the midst of the singing and the frenzied dancing going on all around you sort of just GET IT. This is why the girls when crazy when the Beatles Arrived. It's this MAGNETISM, with talent and humility and the fact that he was simply having such a good time - and inviting us all to come along. Paul McCartney was literally the best concert I've ever seen in my life. Absolutely brilliant.

As an aside - I think it's negative that the religious freaks always park outside of concerts peddling negativity and judgment. Did anyone ever stop and find innerpeace from this sort of judgmental bullshit? You know what was beautiful and sending out love to our fellow man? It was 50 THOUSAND people singing GIVE PEACE A CHANCE at the top of their lungs. It was 50 THOUSAND people walking down 10th Streeting singing HEY JUDE at the top of their lungs, smiling and laughing and singing together - in happiness and joy. There was no sex, no violence - it was pure joy and love radiating from a mass of strangers. And that, ladies and gentlemen - was what love and acceptance really feels like. Thank you Paul McCartney for giving us those moments.

11 Years Ago Yesterday...(okay 8 Years Ago I can't Count)

...I stood idly picking my nail polish off, on a stalled Monorail between Epcot and the transportation center. I had taken a lot of care to be all pretty and girly that long weekend - applying more lipstick and freshening up each time we stopped by a ladies room. I made sure that my nails were done and totally cute - I can assure you.


So it was just an old habit....idly picking my nail polish off. Left over from teenage years like twisting my hair when a boy I liked came around - I didn't even think twice.


And when he looked over at me, gasped and said,"YOUR HANDS! YOUR NAILS! AH! What are you doing?" I just mumbled "I dunno." and thought that would be it.


But he stammered, and mumbled........about how nice my hands had looked, how beautiful my manicure was.....and said,"But you'll be sorry your nails weren't done........"


Now, that SHOULD have been a clue - don't you think?



But it wasn't...........and the next morning, when my feet were screaming from too much theme park and he insisted that we get to Magic Kingdom early, and that we run STRAIGHT AWAY to get mouse ears.......and that we HAD to get to the front of the castle and get our picture taken........well......



I dunno. I just thought "Wow, he's really getting on board with this whole touristy picture taking thing!"



And then the barbershop quartet came over, which seemed odd, and said they wanted to be in our picture. Which also was odd.



And then he did THIS.........

He chose Elvis's birthday so that we would always remember what day it was! So Happy Birthday To You Elvis! It's one of the Happiest Days of My Life.

And here, from Spinner - the 30 Coolest Things About Elvis.

And just remember - everything will change. But Love Remains the Same.

11 Years Ago Yesterday...(okay 8 Years Ago I can't Count)

...I stood idly picking my nail polish off, on a stalled Monorail between Epcot and the transportation center. I had taken a lot of care to be all pretty and girly that long weekend - applying more lipstick and freshening up each time we stopped by a ladies room. I made sure that my nails were done and totally cute - I can assure you.


So it was just an old habit....idly picking my nail polish off. Left over from teenage years like twisting my hair when a boy I liked came around - I didn't even think twice.


And when he looked over at me, gasped and said,"YOUR HANDS! YOUR NAILS! AH! What are you doing?" I just mumbled "I dunno." and thought that would be it.


But he stammered, and mumbled........about how nice my hands had looked, how beautiful my manicure was.....and said,"But you'll be sorry your nails weren't done........"


Now, that SHOULD have been a clue - don't you think?



But it wasn't...........and the next morning, when my feet were screaming from too much theme park and he insisted that we get to Magic Kingdom early, and that we run STRAIGHT AWAY to get mouse ears.......and that we HAD to get to the front of the castle and get our picture taken........well......



I dunno. I just thought "Wow, he's really getting on board with this whole touristy picture taking thing!"



And then the barbershop quartet came over, which seemed odd, and said they wanted to be in our picture. Which also was odd.



And then he did THIS.........

He chose Elvis's birthday so that we would always remember what day it was! So Happy Birthday To You Elvis! It's one of the Happiest Days of My Life.

And here, from Spinner - the 30 Coolest Things About Elvis.

And just remember - everything will change. But Love Remains the Same.

The Candy Anniversary

It's Our Candy Anniversary.

That's 6 years. Our other option was IRON but not owning a forge that seemed impractical.

I made him chocolate cremes and chocolate cherries, and (failed) toffee (a subject for another post I assure you).

He had custom M&Ms made with our picture on them, and several wonderful sayings.

I'm going to take them to work tomorrow, show everyone and share nothing.

I love being married. I love him despite all his faults and my complaints. (Name that movie).

I would not change one minute. Because if I did, I wouldn't have a jar full of custom M&Ms downstairs from my one true love.

Happy Anniversary Baby.

The Candy Anniversary

It's Our Candy Anniversary.

That's 6 years. Our other option was IRON but not owning a forge that seemed impractical.

I made him chocolate cremes and chocolate cherries, and (failed) toffee (a subject for another post I assure you).

He had custom M&Ms made with our picture on them, and several wonderful sayings.

I'm going to take them to work tomorrow, show everyone and share nothing.

I love being married. I love him despite all his faults and my complaints. (Name that movie).

I would not change one minute. Because if I did, I wouldn't have a jar full of custom M&Ms downstairs from my one true love.

Happy Anniversary Baby.

Date-A-Versary 11.0

11 Years ago today, I met a boy in a Greek restaurant for lunch. He met me before he went to work, wearing jeans and sneakers with holes in them.
He kept me waiting 45 minutes while he tried to get the new contact lenses in - that he'd bought just for our date.
I had spent forever getting ready, doing my hair - doing my face.....not too much make up it was broad daylight I couldn't count on bar lighting to hide any over doing it.

11 years ago today he told me I was beautiful over plates of hummus and gyros.

And then after our date he walked me to the curb where I was parked, kissed me five times and walked down the street to go to work.

This morning, I woke up next to him.

Our children running around like monkeys, our house cold because for some reason it's COLD out now (isn't this the south, isn't it supposed to be warm here)......and as I snuggled into his arms I couldn't help but think....

I'm so glad a cook once asked me out.

He changed my whole life. And mostly, I feel something like this.....

Date-A-Versary 11.0

11 Years ago today, I met a boy in a Greek restaurant for lunch. He met me before he went to work, wearing jeans and sneakers with holes in them.
He kept me waiting 45 minutes while he tried to get the new contact lenses in - that he'd bought just for our date.
I had spent forever getting ready, doing my hair - doing my face.....not too much make up it was broad daylight I couldn't count on bar lighting to hide any over doing it.

11 years ago today he told me I was beautiful over plates of hummus and gyros.

And then after our date he walked me to the curb where I was parked, kissed me five times and walked down the street to go to work.

This morning, I woke up next to him.

Our children running around like monkeys, our house cold because for some reason it's COLD out now (isn't this the south, isn't it supposed to be warm here)......and as I snuggled into his arms I couldn't help but think....

I'm so glad a cook once asked me out.

He changed my whole life. And mostly, I feel something like this.....

Because I Said So....Again

I'm not a lazy man, nor am I uncreative. Sometimes a man just has to realize that he has done the best that he can do. With that in mind, I did not even try to come up with anything different than last year's Mother's Day post (trust me, I did a lot of other nice things for today). Life still feels like this, so I hope that you can forgive me and re-read my thoughts on the Most Wonderful Mom in the World:

We have a guest posting today. Ladies and gentlemen, please put your hands together for Gidge's husband, Scott AKA Frank. Yeah!!!!!!!!

My mother, your mother. My grandmothers. Yours. My wife, your wife. Sisters, aunts. The women who made you who you are. The strong women. The beautiful women. Some are parents, some are not. All are mothers. Because mothers nurture and mothers give life. Because they care and they love without reservation. Because they are what I will never be. I honor you every day. But today know my special thanks, Happy Mother's Day and thank you from my heart.

I want to talk about the special mother in my life. No, not you, Mom. Sorry. You'll always be my mom and I could never replace what you mean to me but "mother" has gained a new definition for me in the last four and a half years. You folks know her as Gidge or maybe Bridgette. To me, she is Bunny, Bidgy, Princess, and My Little Flower. She's the mother of my children and the love of my life. My mother is June Cleaver with a cigarette. Bridgette is her antithesis. She doesn't smoke and she certainly is no June Cleaver. Cooking and cleaning? Nope, not Gidge. Those things are wonderful but that's not what mom should mean to you anyway. This is motherhood:

No, it's not always pretty. But it is always beautiful. It's half a slice of pie when you really wanted the whole thing. It's another story when you're too exhausted to think. It's taking care of someone when you've just puked for the fourth time. It's watching that stupid kid's show again when you hated it the first 117 times that you saw it. It's saying, "I love you so much" when all you really want to do is scream.

In 1802, Sir William Herschel defined a binary star as "a real double star, the union of two stars that are formed together in one system by the laws of attraction".


Two stars, locked together in love for all eternity. Sometimes stars support planets. This is our solar system:

Notice a common theme? It ain't gravity that holds this particular system together folks - it's Bidgy. And maybe, if we're lucky, our little system might just keep growing.

Happy Mother's Day Bunny. I love you dearly and you'll always be My Little Flower. Now you people get out there and tell the ladies in your life that you love them and be sure to wish them a Happy Mother's Day for me. Because I said so....

Because I Said So....Again

I'm not a lazy man, nor am I uncreative. Sometimes a man just has to realize that he has done the best that he can do. With that in mind, I did not even try to come up with anything different than last year's Mother's Day post (trust me, I did a lot of other nice things for today). Life still feels like this, so I hope that you can forgive me and re-read my thoughts on the Most Wonderful Mom in the World:

We have a guest posting today. Ladies and gentlemen, please put your hands together for Gidge's husband, Scott AKA Frank. Yeah!!!!!!!!

My mother, your mother. My grandmothers. Yours. My wife, your wife. Sisters, aunts. The women who made you who you are. The strong women. The beautiful women. Some are parents, some are not. All are mothers. Because mothers nurture and mothers give life. Because they care and they love without reservation. Because they are what I will never be. I honor you every day. But today know my special thanks, Happy Mother's Day and thank you from my heart.

I want to talk about the special mother in my life. No, not you, Mom. Sorry. You'll always be my mom and I could never replace what you mean to me but "mother" has gained a new definition for me in the last four and a half years. You folks know her as Gidge or maybe Bridgette. To me, she is Bunny, Bidgy, Princess, and My Little Flower. She's the mother of my children and the love of my life. My mother is June Cleaver with a cigarette. Bridgette is her antithesis. She doesn't smoke and she certainly is no June Cleaver. Cooking and cleaning? Nope, not Gidge. Those things are wonderful but that's not what mom should mean to you anyway. This is motherhood:

No, it's not always pretty. But it is always beautiful. It's half a slice of pie when you really wanted the whole thing. It's another story when you're too exhausted to think. It's taking care of someone when you've just puked for the fourth time. It's watching that stupid kid's show again when you hated it the first 117 times that you saw it. It's saying, "I love you so much" when all you really want to do is scream.

In 1802, Sir William Herschel defined a binary star as "a real double star, the union of two stars that are formed together in one system by the laws of attraction".


Two stars, locked together in love for all eternity. Sometimes stars support planets. This is our solar system:

Notice a common theme? It ain't gravity that holds this particular system together folks - it's Bidgy. And maybe, if we're lucky, our little system might just keep growing.

Happy Mother's Day Bunny. I love you dearly and you'll always be My Little Flower. Now you people get out there and tell the ladies in your life that you love them and be sure to wish them a Happy Mother's Day for me. Because I said so....