Ode to a Blue Hooded Sweatshirt.

There once was a hoodie of blue
That loved me back when it was new.
The sleeves kept me warm
And the hood kept me dry
And hoodies just like it were few.

But now after years of it’s wear
The sleeves, yes, have started to tear.
With stains on the cuffs
And 2 holes in the front
And a hood that is just barely there.

So last night Steve told me
The sweatshirt was through.
No more broken zipper
No more hoodie blue.

So sadly I toss it
Right now in the trash
I miss it already
But can’t get it back.

So laugh if you want to
I’ll try not to cry
And here’s to my hoodie, “Goodbye.”

Confessions of a Germaphobe

If the first step to overcoming a problem is admitting it, then here I go. At some point over the past 2 years, I have become the person who uses hand sanitizer after passing the offering plate at church. My heart races when I am forced to touch a bathroom doorknob. I can’t remember the last time I flushed a public toilet with anything other than my foot. I am realizing I need to reach some kind of balance. I need to make amends with millions of micro-bacteria and learn to exist in harmony with them.
I have noticed there are not degrees of germaphobia.. You either care about germs, or you don’t. You either wipe down shopping cart handles before you touch them, you use your sleeve to open bathroom doors, you bathe your child in Purell after a visit to the park, you feel slightly grossed out after touching keys or cell phones, or you don’t. I am gradually working my way back from the extreme end of the “icky” spectrum.
Ever since I had Griffin, my fear of the germs that might be hiding out on nursery toys, other people’s drinks or the worst–strange people’s hands–has caused me to have miniature internal panick attacks almost daily. Last month I was at the Pediatrician’s office with Griffin, Madelyn in her 30+ pound carrier, and a diaper bag, and I felt like I was running the gauntlet trying to open 4 doors and use nasty doctor’s office pens in a sanitary way while also keeping the kids in check and trying to look like I was a sane member of society. It was shortly after that visit when I realized I needed to relax a little.
Steve thinks I am ridiculous when it comes to germs, and I am slowly beginning to agree. In his attempts to “cure” me he likes to take Griffin to McDonald’s playland–the ultimate cesspool for any germaphobe. Of course Griffin loves it, and so far he hasn’t picked up E coli, so I am beginning to realize it IS my problem. I don’t think Laura Ingalls Wilder used hand sanitizer after she did her morning chores.
I know that colds and even the flu are all part of “building a strong immune system,” or so they say. I know when my kids get older and I have even less control over them they will eat things off lunchroom floors and share drinks with friends and we will all go through the cold and flu season together every fall. The most baffling thing is that my kids still manage to pick up colds and in doing so they are some other germaphobe’s worst nightmare. Obviously I can’t be there to wipe them off every time they touch something nasty and I don’t want them rolling around in a little germ-proof bubble. Deep down I know these germs serve a purpose. Like I said, this is a confession and I am trying to form some kind of alliance with them. Until then, please don't feel the need to confiscate the hand sanitizer I carry around my waist in a holster like a weapon...

Sky Top Orchard

In an effort to begin a few annual family traditions, we loaded up the car and headed to the foothills to pick a few apples from Sky Top Orchard in North Carolina. Although Griffin is in the middle of potty training, there were no apples left on any of the trees due to a late frost and it was so foggy you could barely see 20 feet in front of your face, we still had a really great time. Griffin loved the pumpkins and spent about 20 minutes lifting, turning and finally choosing the perfect pumpkin. He also had fun on the swings and walking around the apple trees.