Defining the Word: Friend

Friendology

Study of friends and the power of friendships. The bond shared between two or more people. The understanding of friendship and how it is used in today's society. The worlds understanding of true friendship.

These girls have been pals, some besties, since their middle school years. They study together, they laugh together, they talk extremely loud together-- friends!  They have years before they have to think about separation.  And, when they do, I bet it'll be hard. 

This group of best pals, well, they're a whole different story. They are about to separate. Spread wings. While most of this close knit group is headed to Mizzou together, a few others are the brave souls, ready to branch off on their own for new adventures. Make new friends. Which sounds easy, but is it?  M is one of those brave souls.  M and her bestie (the other beauty clad in yellow) have been "sisters of the heart" for so long I can't see one without the other. They have lived and laughed together...even tested their parents' patience a time or two, together.  Growing up together as friends. 

While I sit outside enjoying the cool summer air (being eaten by mosquitoes) I can't help but think about how I too, like M, have to be that brave soul, leaving behind my school friends to spread my wings. I am totally excited about my new venture at work.  I feel fortunate to get the opportunity.  I spend my evenings building skill and knowledge...still old friends are hard to leave.  Old friends know you, you trust them, they get you, you aren't afraid to ask them questions. You know how to have after work fun together--Christmas karaoke and game night (what happens at game night stays at game night). How to make each other laugh-- at work and after work. The girl friend thing! We've all shed our separation tears, boxed up the old place, unboxed at the new place... I've cleaned the old place with new faces, to make the old feel fresh and new. The old place is my new place.  Still. Somehow, there is a comfort in the "old". Knowing how to finish each others sentences. How to complete a task without having to ask for assistance.  There's a forgotten unfamiliar to starting over.  I guess because the "old" had it: friendology!  

So what do girls do when they are about to embark on new adventures?  They spend as much time as they can with the old friends, so never to forget that feeling of comfortable. The trucks are rolling, walls are coming down and going up, but through all the boxes and all the construction we all know...friends never stop being friends.  

So girls, here's to us all. Here's to our new beginnings and our memories of the days. Here's to always being friends!

The Calendar Says

The calendar is inked for the next four days with the words "Wizard of Oz".

While these talented, beautiful and handsome teens have the starring roles...

my little D shines as a munchkin

and a poppie, 

 that is going to slumber an Oz seeking quad to sleep.

D has a favorite new color and it's emerald green (or as close to it as one can find in their closest)

When not wearing emerald green she sure can cut the stage doing the jitterbug

As for me, well, I can be found in the ticket booth

taking your green backs in exchange for the best seats in the house.

You better not make things difficult with large bills or I'll send you know who after you

along with her loyal flying monkeys

By Saturday I can almost guarantee

D will be begging her bestie Grace, I mean Glinda

To help her find some ruby slippers to heal click three times

'cause after months of practice

there's no place like home

The Great Midwestern Glacier Melt Welcomes the Snowball

Some days blogging seems like a chore; like washing the 1900 square feet of hard flooring throughout my abode...which I did yesterday.  When the region is use to temperatures that freeze toes and suddenly it is okay to run the trash outside barefoot...well, the brain gets to confused to properly form sentences.  So instead of straining myself to be witty and charming with words I am simply posting a few pics from last evening's Snowball--Boogie Down to Funky Town.   Feel free to help caption the photos for me.

M and the seniors

D and the sophomores

SWEET SIXTEEN

Sixteen years ago I stood in line at Target purchasing necessaries for a preschool Halloween party...when ouch I went into labor...a wee bit early.

After the Target checker had her moment of freak that a woman in labor with two small children in tow was in her check-out line; I made it home.  Back in the day of pre-cell phones I paged King Ralph, who then called his mom, who then made it home just in time for me to walk in the doors of the hospital to deliver a sweet five pound plus girlie who was then whisked away by ambulance to the NICU at Children's Hospital.

There you have it in a nut shell how D's life began.  She left me in a panic of difficulty from her start through her toddler years.  Calming about the time Kindergarten came calling.

Once a little tomboy who loved Hot Wheels to Barbies and mud pies to lip gloss.  Who wore the plastic wheels of her Big Wheel burning rubber on the sidewalk...hating anything that had a feminine flare. D has blossomed into a beautiful young lady with polished toe nails and bouncy natural curls molded with product.  All the things that until recently she turned her nose to.

She's smart and talented.  At times aggravating and lazy.  Through all the adjectives I grow more in love with my unplanned baby girl--our gift from above.

She is she.  Never being persuaded to be anything but herself.

And.

So.

We celebrate.

Keep skipping happily through life seeing what is ahead waiting for you (maybe a driver's permit).

Happy Sweet 16 Demi Anne!       

Festive Weekend

Update:  Big toe toenail was not recovered nor found on the sole of that Kindergartner with the heavy foot.  Guess I just have to accept I have a janky looking toe nail.  And. I recovered from that Thursday unexplained night of insomnia.  Cure.  A medium sized caramel frappe from Wired Coffee at 345pm.  There was no way I was going to make it all Friday night without a caffeine boast.  

The week...it was all about Homecoming! The proverbial spirit week had M all in form while D, full of Flyer spirit left the house each day looking like her regular self. M on the other hand was all into.  She did the "Twin Day" with her look alike Marketing teacher, dressed for "Circus Day" as a hippo (are there hippos at a circus?), wore her PJ's on jammie day....

There was Thursday's parade; a senior girl in a convertible and leading the "March of Champions".  Where my sophomore was bouncing around remains a mystery.  All that led to a bon fire.  A fire so big and so hot I am shocked my head is not a skeleton cause I swear my skin was melting off from the intense heat it gave off.

Friday's pre-game band dinner with their eighth grade band guests (selling the product),  football game, halftime show (with the show flags that finally arrived)

  before M made a white spandex mad dash to the other side of the field for a promenade/presentation of a court.


 
Then we slumbered.  Sleeping is a beautiful thing!
 
Only to wake to a crazed day of beauty shop and curling irons. Nail polishes and eye shadows. Sequence and satin. And Friends. Lots of friends.

Sisters.

Sophomores.

Seniors.

Then King Ralph and I crashed the dance; as invited guests. To see this...Homecoming Court.

It is a great day when the kids on the court aren't just the athletes or "popular" kids.  This is a representation of nice kids.  Kids that are liked for who the are: lots of band kids, theater kids, student council kids, smart kids....

M wasn't queen, not even a princess, but she had a great attitude going into this and when it was over she had the same great attitude...just happy her peers liked her enough to put her up there on that stage.   I might be partial but I sure think she had the prettiest dress up there on that stage.

Now it's back to regular weekly scheduled activites.  

Remembering Those Lovies of Yesterday

Princess A called me to her bedroom to help her with her new bed skirt.  In the dismantling of the mattress to get to the box spring and removing the old bed skirt an old familiar friend flopped to the ground--Peppermint Rose.  For years I use to swear my derelict father mailed it to Princess A in one of guilt packages.  Then one Christmas break we sat around watching old home movies when it revealed itself that Peppermint Rose was actually a gift from one of King Ralph's family members for Princess A's first birthday.

Peppermint Rose was not Princess A's original lovey, no she was a replacement for Baby.  Baby was the comfort pal of her life for more than two years.  Baby with her pink silky body and her plastic face.  She drug her along to the hospital one day when I was having some tests done.  Somewhere between the radiation lab and the parking lot Baby went missing.  I called every phone in the hospital, placed a APB out on her, filed a missing person report all to no avail.  baby was gone--forever!  My mother-in-law surprised Princess A with a replacement Baby and a fib that she found her.  Princess A was no two year old worthy of trickery.  She turned Baby over to reveal the black thread (cause that's what was in the sewing machine at the time and it was a stuffed doll for goodness sake) used to close up a restuff job was not there.  She lifted Baby in the air, slammed her to the ground and in her squeaky two year old little girl voice belted out "that's not my Baby".  For a year she went lovey-less, until one day without warning she pulled this Holly Hobbie like doll from a pile of stuffed animals, named her and feel deeply in love.  Peppermint Rose was born to her soul of comfort.  Ole' Peppermint Rose has been cried on when friends disappointed.  Has been slammed when parents didn't agree with choices made. Soothed through three surgeries-- regardless of Princess A's age (14, 16, 17).  Been an extra plump of pillow for sleeping. Peppermint Rose has traveled the world--from slumber parties down the street to across the country and across the world.  She never made it to college, by that time she was fragile.  Her arms laced to her body with safety pins.  Her guts held in too by yet more safety pins.  Her big round face sunk in from lack of filler...refusing a cotton batting botox injection.

Peppermint Rose has been a loyal lovey--never replaced. 

And yet in her ragged state of being Peppermint Rose still has a place of honor on Princess A's bed.

Not to be out done by Peppermint Rose, M had her years of love for Sugar Monkey.  Sugar Monkey came to us by way of a Build-a-Bear....a Girl Scout field trip.  Sugar Monkey was once soft plush like velvet now a matted rough animal.  She was easy to want to snuggle all day and night.  Sugar Monkey made the same rounds as Peppermint Rose--slumber parties, camping trips, cruises, airplane rides....  The crazy thing about Sugar Monkey is although M always claimed she was a girl the rest of  us claimed her to gender confused. Me mostly because when I would make M's bed in the morning while she was at school, tossing Sugar Monkey on the bed she often landed with her tail between her legs.  A sign of a male.  As M entered her teen years folks often purposely would set Sugar Monkey on the bed in that center fold porn position just to get M all riled up.  Squeals from her room would be heard "Sugar Monkey is a girrrrrlllll!!!!"   Sugar Monkey was constantly under torment, she took many rides on the ceiling fan blades which sent M into hysterics and tears.  Sisters. That is all can say.  One freshman day in high school without warning Sugar Monkey took a permanent vacation to the top self of M's closest.  Sure Sugar Monkey was loved, she offered the same comfort all lovies offer-- heart ache from friends, healing after countless eye surgeries, extra lift to the night's slumber...I guess my M grew up when I blinked one day and didn't need her monkey love anymore.

Today Sugar Monkey popped out for a keepsake photo shoot.

 Oh Sugar Monkey I still believe you to be gender confused. Just look at you, you say male.


Then there was D's lovey, or should I say lovies.  First there was Bob, always Bob.  Bob started out a lush fluffy nursery comforter.  Bob, before named Bob, covered up everyone of my baby girls as they slumbered in their infant state.  Bob is now but a large square of muslin.  Bob was strung between D's legs and nuzzled up under her chin and lulled to my girly to sleep.  Bob has been washed more times than I can count; washed from being drug through mud, held during meals, urinated and puked on and washing was always done on the sneak.  Then came the years of "Land Before Time" obsession.  Every character of that movie series in plush form was gifted to D and lined her bed.  However Chomper was always front and center.  Chomper was drug all around town--grocery stores, play dates, family gathering, where D went Chomper went.  Chomper if accidentally left behind required instant emergency retrieval.  Tears flowed and nights would be sleepless if Chomper didn't join Bob for a night's rest.  Although D never liked the femininity flares of girlhood (till recently)-- Chomper did, he got a red lipstick lip painted above his fierce teeth.  Which stained his fur.  Open his mouth for signs of lesson learned--ability to write "no" and teach a dinosaur that biting is unacceptable is marked in ink inside his mouth.  Another sweet stain on the lovey.  Finally along came Mr.Lion.  Mr. Lion was a gift from the creepy Santa that visited an annual Santa party we attended each year at M's godfather's house.  The Santa, creepy as he was with his over active sweat glands and request of a fan to blow him cool, always arrived with gifts in his sack.  One year it was the softest silkiest stuffed lion.  For a while D was smothered and cramped in bed by not one, two, but three lovies.  A sign she was always a high maintenance child.  In time Chomper was outgrown.  Mr. Lion and Bob stuck.  Mr. Lion was so loved he went from having a full standing mane of fur to looking like Don King.  D loathed when we referred to Mr. Lion as Don King--such disrespect.  Then, just like M, with no warning of ween, Mr. Lion took permanent seat else where.  Bob hung on till eighth grade.  High school started and Bob was folded up and with precious care placed in the storage room for safe keeping.

Memories tucked tenderly in safe keeping. Memories I can imagine emerging for show and tell when the girls are mother's themselves. Makes me think...remember...my baby girls.  I blinked and they grew.  Grew up. Still growing up.  Growing up minus the lovies that were there childhoods yet knowing with all that love these mother's arm still offer love that cannot be replaced or stored away.             

Good-bye Summer Playhouse We Enjoyed You For The While

I was shaken from my slumber this morning from a dream that had back ground music; and the song was Gary, Indiana.

Summer. It seems to have us moving more than during the school year. As one obligation ends another begins.

After chiseling off five days of hair spray over spray off my skin and wood floor from curling D's hair in spiral curls that needed to hold through a performance in the dreadful St. Louis humidity and mopping up eye shadow residue; the curtain on Whitecliff Summer Playhouse [in the park] The Music Man has come down. The stage is silent--for a while.




Life in the house paused from the clock's summons today; I so needed the break from rushing and late nights. So, the house got scrubbed. Smile.

The pause is short lived as we are about to begin a regiment of color guard.

Sigh. I was liking the pause in the calender and the chiming of the clock's alarm.

But alas, it's about the girls and treasured memories.

Not Even A Bad Cold Can Stop the Show

We jacked D up on some DayQuil around 530pm so she could belt out musical tunes for her March concert in order to not be subjected to sniffling-sneezing-coughing-aching-stuffy-head adding hand to: so-you-can-sing. The miracle medicine! Then she shimmered her face with eye shadow, blush, lipstick and false lashes...then dressed.

Performance Costume Recipe

1 Sully from Monsters Inc.
1 Little Mermaid
1 Flamingo dancer
100 yards of velvet
50 yards of rhinestone
Generous sprinkle of glitter

Put all ingredients in blender on high.

This is what you get....the most hideous costumes ever known to the world of show choirs!However, despite the on going complaints from the girls of Limelight, the all female show choir, about the costumes, they put on a fabulous show last night! The song collection--a tribute to woman power.

I got in the auditorium early enough last night to get a good seat. A seat right behind the Band of Sisterhood known as old ladies with the worst cheap old lady perfume ever produced and salon styled hair that met teasing heights that should be illegal. Even the Limelight mom sitting next to me commented on how bad the old lady perfume was. It was bad! I decided not to crop my pictures so I can remember and reflect on how creative I was in my attempts to maneuver around the ten mile high hair and gallons of Aqua Net hairspray while holding my breath for an hour.

Regardless the jazz hands live on.

A Dance and Dining With The Dead

Last night was the "Snoball Dance". A dance that was less snow and more rare but welcomed sunshine on a warm February Saturday.

First pictures with the freshmen.

Then pictures with the juniors
The dress lengths were short and the shoes were all rockin'!...also where my camera battery went dead.

Then King Ralph and I escaped to our favorite pizza/sports bar for a few spirited beverages and a bite to eat [at the bar]. (I forget but I think we call that a date.) It was here I caught glimpse of an urn sitting in the center of one of the pub tables. It seems we crashed an Irish wake--a first for our favorite eatery. The mourners appeared to revel less in grief and more in beer. The urn was a coaster and the ashes were toasted--not with words but with the clink of a Bud bottle to the marble urn. Mr. Ashes was then passed from one friend to the next as the mourners decided whether to stay and continue partying in an Irish wake fashion or to leave..who should take'm home. When Mr. Ashes finally left his eight hour memorial party there was one lone ranger left sipping beer, waiting for his safe ride home.

There you have it a dance and my dinner with the dead.

The Hair Of The Candy Bar

While most children are waking this morning to a sugar coma hang over, their parents tossing them fun size candy bars to take the edge off or bring them back to life; I stayed home last night only to answer my door to ten, TEN, goblins. So if you're thirsty I have thirty-eight cans of Vess soda pop left for the taking.

I woke this morning to realize that 730am on the clock was really 630am. Bonus! I also realized King Ralph and I were home alone still. It was like it was before we had children--quiet...but lonely. Then we started reminiscing about how the girls use to stand in the doorway of our room to alert us they were awake and we would coax them into our bed, all three piled between us, with cartoons on the TV while we snuck a few more winks of sleep. This morning we lay in bed watching the Today show before heading to Ihop for breakfast wondering where the time has gone. How it is that our three little girls have grown so fast, grown into young women?

We picked D from her friends house where she informed us that trick-r-treating, as a high school freshman was much harder than years prior. That the weight of the candy snag bag was less this year...she handed me a candy count list along with the "do not touch" items...I only want the Milky Ways.
M&M-6
Skittles-2
Nerds-2
Laffy Taffy4
Sour Patch-1
Baby Ruth-5
Mike&Ike-1
Dum Dums-1
Reesesticks-1
Reeses's-12
Starburst-7
Hershey's-2
100 Grand-2
Rice Krispies-1
Pretzels-3
Jolly Rancher-1
Twizzlers-2

I see a huge issue here--NO MILKY WAYS ON THIS LIST. Like really! What am I too snag from her sweet bag? This just proves she might be past the age to trick-r-treat. When you return without Mom's favorite it becomes a waste of time?

Orange or lemon-lime soda pop anyone?

HAPPY HALLOWEEN

There is a pattern our life seems to be following on Halloween: King Ralph and I home alone. We are staying home to hand out our Vess soda pops to all the visiting ghouls and goblins with their adorable senseless jokes they will share for the trade. Last year we turned all the lights out and went to dinner. However this year my seal bark of a cough is not to desirable outside the perimeter of my walls so we're ordering a pizza in.

First we made sure a pumpkin was carved. D and King Ralph did a fine job turning our pumpkin into Jack Skellington. Don't you think?

The girls looked all adorable in their homemade Halloween cuteness as a Grecian Goddess and a Country Bumpkin.

If you don't mind I need to part way I hear the doorbell chiming. Trick-r-Treat!

Birthday Wishes

Fifteen years ago today I went to the doctor, took Princess A and M to Taco Bell for lunch, dropped Princess A off at pre-school, picked her up, went to Target to purchase classroom Halloween party needs and went into labor in the check out lane a little early. Prior the days we owned cell phones I paged King Ralph who was at work. He called his mother who rushed over to be greeted by a panting pregnant woman in great pain. Forty-five minutes from the time I made the call to King Ralph D reared her tiny blackened strained little being into this world.

Her start was tough. Her toddler years tougher. She has however grown into a beautiful, smart, talented, amazing young lady. To that I say...

Happy 15th Birthday my baby girl! Now, get better. Postponing birthday fun is never what a mother and father want to have to do. Celebrating you is as much fun for us as it is for you.

Blogging Bedside

In the last several days I have had plans to tell you about the perils of crazy sock day and how King Ralph threw away my dish soap bottle (because he didn't like it) which pissed me off like no other--instead I am totally to tired to say much more than...D is pretty sick.


I pulled out the big gun last night after she coughed for two straight hours not allowing anyone in the house to slumber--codeine cough syrup. She slumbered, yeah. I was awake till 2am, boo.

Here's hoping she can snap out of it fast because tomorrow is her day.

(I'm feeling like the bug got a nibble of me. Just a nibble.)

Student of the Month

If word gets out that included in the Student of the Month prize bag is a coupon for a free school lunch; I think the entire school body of students would start to strive for this high achievement.

In D's case she was bestowed the honor without having to be tempted. I suggested since her posy of friends are all bringers that they have a bought school lunch tasting with her coupon. The girls can sit around nibbling on mushy peas and a soy burger.

When Student of the Month was announced D's class was too noisy for her to hear. It wasn't until her next hour that she learned of her honor...people congratulating her for a reason she had to ask what she did.

It's nice that her sisters, who never have earned such a LHS honor, were all excited for their freshman sister. Even the one far away at school that calls to yell about her clothes she spots in pictures.

Good job baby!

FYI D: the honor does not exclude you from chores or cleaning your room. So hop on it, now!

Two Phat Black Dresses

I wanted to humor you all with my LHS 80's blast from the past Homecoming picture, but as much as I tried to dig through boxes in the storage room I took to sneezing from collecting basement dust minus any luck of uncovering the artifact. Oh well, maybe another time.

When Princess A was in kindergarten she took our little three and a half pound Yorkie, Skeeter Bug, to school for pet day. Such an occasion of display meant our wee pouch needed a bath, brush and a leash for her parade of Princess A's pet pride...all happening in a matter of hours. It was the most traumatic day in ole' Skeeter Bug's life, she shook like a Fall leaf from a tree.

Freshman D had a Skeeter Bug day yesterday. She got her ears pierced--a suggestion of femininity she has fought for years, much to her sisters dismay. She got her fingers and toes painted--something she has put a fist up against since the day she came into this world. She got her tresses curled and held in place with much hair product and had a full face of make-up; all applied by her oldest sisters. Then she had moms snapping pictures of her with her dance date. Not to mention a living room full of high school juniors and seniors, boys AND girls, in unison singing out a sweet "ooooohhhh" when I announced her date was pulling up (as I saw from the window). She blushed and I thought it was a good traumatic day for my baby girl...looking all glam-glam in her layered black satin dress and silver heels. I believe her date got one of the prettiest girls for a dance .
And her besties where looking equally as glam

M and one of her besties and fellow guard girl (who was on the homecoming court) looking oh-so-fab-u-lous.
What warms my heart as a mom is that Princess A came home from college this weekend just to help her sisters get ready for the dance...two sisters so close in age yet have been so distant in likeness now finding a common shared ground--high school, and a homecoming dance

First Day Holiday

I always loathed "First Day Holiday" in elementary school; the Principal's belief that the first day of school should be viewed as the greatest holiday of the calendar year--celebrated as an intrusion of parents in the classrooms with snow cones and games on the playground when kids should be back to reading, writing and arithmetic.

Now, now that everyone is in high school (and college) I love first day holiday--dress them, feed them, and send them out the door (with a few extra kisses) with wishes for a great first day. When the high school girls get home exhausted from there non acclimated early rise, the realization hits that there is no honeymoon period in high school--the homework load begins. Back to reading, writing and arithmetic.

Now dressing was pretty easy for M as she had her first day of school outfit designated by her role, Link Crew member. She matched a hundred others in there first day of school outfit. In the end the thing that bummed her the most, not being able to wear some fashionesta garment turned out to be okay, because instead the thing to be bothered by was someone decided to steal her text books as she helped Freshman find there buses to go home. D looks the same tired as she looks every first day...however this first day she looks a little more grown-up-- my high school girl, my baby at the beginning of what is nearing the end of this phase in my journey of parenthood.

So...let the good times roll!

The D Days of Summer

We have hardly had time to rejoice in summer (I know you are going to tell me summer doesn't come till June 21, but when school is out it is summer)...how can we since we have been celebrating everything D.

Please note when I am done with this blog entry, which may have a somewhat negative tone I am off to pray and find center with myself.

Thursday morning I rose early readied myself for work, as I had to dash there as soon as D's 8th Grade Recognition ceremony was complete. Wait did I say recognition? Now it was a ceremony that started ten minutes late and finished 15 minutes early--so by 830am the powers that be managed to herd across a stage, Team A, 1/3 of a 600 plus student 8th grade class. Recognition. What recognition? There was no other honor bestowed upon these hard-working-school-loving children except for a "you finished middle school" certificate. No President's scholar certificates. No you were in the musical certificates. No you're a mythology or geography bee winner. No perfect attendance award. No you are the kid who did nothing so here's a made up certificate to make you feel part of the class. As proof to the herd them in and out feeling that was felt and expressed by many parents (more of those who have experienced recognition day in the past) see exhibit A: D receiving her manila envelope with the photo of some boy on the screen behind her. He may have been the next in line, but more like two or three behind her. The fashion of the day was the required yellow "class of 2013" T-shirt, shorts and comfortable shoes (in D's case flip-flops).

After a few pictures snapped with friends in the foyer of the auditorium Team A was bussed back to the middle school were they were to have a team gathering of award distributions...so when I tell you D received a team superlative of "Most Likely to be a Teacher" you must believe this because I was told by her and several of her friends. I will only assume the budget cuts the district has recently gone through left no extra paper to print any hard copy proof--for any type of award or recognition. So I'll just take a minute to to tell you about her greatness...she had straight A's all three years of middle school and took all honors courses, she was in the musical all three years having a supporting role this year, was a member of the concert choir all three years and show choir for two years, participated in solo/ensemble two years where her quartet always received a one rating, she received the highest honor in choir (remember her friends call her a "choir champion")...oh gosh that's enough sugar coating.

Then because of the rain the after party was moved from the park to the high school commons area and gym 3. Thankfully I went to work to finish out the school year in a more calm and peaceful manner, because according to D and her best gal pals--and my good friend who tortured herself as a chaperon with her assigned post being guarding a door for three hours-- it was "utter chaos and lame". Parents quickly gathered three Wii systems and a few Guitar Heroes (for 600 kids), ball games of all kinds in one gym. Balls going every which way and any way is the description that was provided me, with a few Frisbees flying through the air as rain out entertainment. Lunch was good I am told and spending last moments with a good longtime friend who is moving to Massachusetts. See exhibit B and C: three neighbors girls, three bus buddies, three walk to St. Louis Bread Co. (Panera to you non-STL people) pals, three slumber at each others houses on a Friday night friends, three girls intertwined with allegiance to there chumminess...two kissing one goodbye with a promise of friendship forever.

I'll fast forward to Sunday, D's confirmation.

Can I start by just saying I am a very traditional person, which carries into my style and choice of worship? I find connection with God through structure, tranquility and peace. So three years ago when our church adopted a contemporary service, I refer to it as rock-n-roll worship, or as the church labels it "Crossover"; I was less than embracing. As the years went on I became less enchanted with many aspects of how these services were and are conducted, no matter how much I tried to embrace change. I rarely attend late service and opt to rise with the rooster on Sunday to attend the traditional 8am service.

When M was confirmed during the contemporary service it was modified in such a way not to comprise the Crossover belief yet had a most tranquil and moving style--the music, the faith statements... I left M's Confirmation touched and my tank filled with the fuel of God that I looked forward to another confirmation experience

That day came today for D. After two years of instruction on the affirmation of the baptismal vows we took for her in her infancy; a personal faith statement written to perfection (because I enforced the rule that a thesaurus is your best friend when writing insisting she use "grown-up" words)... hear the screeching halt of my soul coming to an abrupt stop D's Confirmation was what I call full on Crossover. Rock band of drums and electric guitars beating rhythm in high volume which left little space to warn that a cross-less (because the first year confirmand that was to carry the cross didn't bother to show up) procession of two confirmands and two unrobed ministers had just walked down the isle, followed by an introductory drama lesson to explain Pentecost Sunday, a send out song that left me perplexed...I was pre-warned to be prepared to "feel the spirit move" for this service [as it was Pentecost]. Our family guests were more than freaked and not much movement of spirit was felt. Although D's faith statement was moving in expression and touched my heart that she is someone who has been raised, embraced and has chosen for herself to live a life of Christian beliefs...I left unfilled, empty and wondering if this church is the place that I should call home, the place where I want to worship each week. Sadly I have felt this way for the better part of a year, always hoping and praying that maybe I had just stepped off the path and needed God to kick my butt back on. But after our family meeting tonight we are a family of same feeling and we decided that after attending the youth gathering this July that we would sit down again, talk and decide if the church that once filled our souls with the fuel of God's love, whose people's warm hearts welcome so lovingly; is this the place for us to call home. When the president of the church council presented D with a Lutheran hymnal as a congregation gift he said we are all part of God's "art gallery". I just wonder if the painting that is the Avery Family is hanging in the right gallery? But while we decide we will go into the world walking hand in hand with D who was blessed and bestowed with the "Gift of Joy" as her priceless Confirmation gift from our minister. Maybe, just maybe her light and the joy she has will be our guiding force. Joy filled is exactly how she looks in these photos that mark the memory of this day.
Each day as she heads out into the world to share her "Gift of Joy" she can stop and gaze at her faith project that is proudly placed in our entry foyer, a creation that she and King Ralph fabricated in the garage over saws, nail gun and clamps. A project of interior design beauty that will always remind D as she enters the front door of her confirmation verse, Jeremiah 29:11. Actually when she heads out the door she can remember her confirmation verse; as our gift to her was a silver coin trimmed in gold engraved with her name on the front and Jeremiah 29:11 on the reverse side which hangs around her neck and is accented with a pearl pendant from her godmother. A pearl because in religious terms it stands for salvation, precious wisdom or even our own divine spark within.

(now I bet a whole lot of you are flipping through your Bibles to read Jeremiah 29:11)

Now know this D, we, your whole family are proud of you and know for certain that God most certainly does have a plan for you-- one with hope and future.