Anna Kate Donovan

Yesterday while doing a little Christmas shopping, I had to make a big purchase for myself. A new mixer. My old one lasted 13 years with no complaint. I have made countless cakes, batches of bread dough, bowls of mashed potatoes, dozens of cookies, icing, whipped cream and beaten about a thousand egg whites all with nary a cross word from the mixer. Much to my dismay, the bellyaching began about 6 months ago. It started with a faint whine that got louder and louder until it sounded like I was mixing ball bearings in the bowl. I was relieved that the mixer limped through Thanksgiving pies and potatoes but when it came time to make cupcakes for Hattie’s birthday, my beloved Kitchen Aid had taken all the abuse it could stand. The only two remaining speeds were “one foot in the grave” and “beat the heck out of it”. Thanks to a birthday gift from my in-laws, I set out to replace my mixer. I loved the original so much that I picked the same model in a different color. If you’re shopping for a mixer, the Kitchen Aid is worth every penny. But I digress…

While standing in the L O N G line of impatient Christmas shoppers waiting to pay I had the thought, “We sure have bought a lot of appliances in the last few years.” Which brings me to my point. When you are a newlywed staring lovingly at all of your new kitchen appliances, no one tells you to enjoy them while they last. A little pearl of wisdom left on the strand…much like many of the truths about birthing and raising children. Anyway, the day after our 10 year wedding anniversary our warranty ran out. On everything. First it was the toaster. Then the hand mixer. Then the blender. To be completely honest, the coffee maker went first but I don’t think slinging the coffee pot into the wall to its demise while trying to catch yourself after tripping over a gigantic dog counts as “appliance failure”. Just trying to be fair…

The rest of the little appliances failed on their own along with a few of their larger relatives. I, of course, enjoyed picking out replacements and upgrading as our budget would allow. But I still did not think it was fair that they all chose to quit working all within the span of a few years.

So just a little advice to all of you newly married folk: enjoy your new things while you can…and save up…inflation is a bitch…

A couple of years ago, my in-laws started the American Girl tradition at our house. Abigail got her doll for a birthday present. Addie quickly became a member of the family. At that time, we made it clear to Hattie and Laura that an American Girl is something you don’t get until you’re a little older.

Hattie has waited patiently for 2 years. Last week, her grandmother promised her an American Girl for her birthday. Amanda arrived today. Hattie had just endured her 7 year old check up complete with a finger prick and a shot this afternoon. She had no idea that the box she had been waiting for was in the play room. Imagine her surprise! (The shot miraculously stopped hurting the moment she saw the box!)

The furious unwrapping of little boxes was over in a flash. Typical of any 4 year old in this situation, Laura was not happy. The truth is that while the doll and all of her clothes are fabulous, none of them are hers. She knows that this is Hattie’s birthday present and that she too will someday receive an American Girl doll of her own. But that doesn’t make it better right now.

In a move that shocked me into a stupor, Hattie noticed how Laura was feeling. She went into her room and got the smaller doll that she has played with since Abigail got Addie. She gave it to Laura without blinking an eye. Laura was hesitant at first but when Hattie handed her the dresses for this little doll, Laura was sold. They have decided that Laura’s doll is the little sister of Addie and Amanda. Laura is giddy with glee. I am speechless.

This moment lasted a split second before the girls ran off to play, dolls in tow. But the selflessness lingered. In all the craziness of our life, these are the moments I live for. Those tiny unspoken acts that prove that we might be doing something right!

It is 8:10 and I am ready to drag my tired self to bed. Why? Well…

This morning………after making sure everyone was clean, dressed and fed I greeted the A/C repairmen. We have been without A/C or heat for 3 weeks (it’s a long boring story…trust me). Luckily it’s November in Florida and the weather has been more than agreeable. We have had windows and doors open and have managed just fine. Nonetheless, the big trucks pulled in for the day-long task of replacing all the duct work under the house.

With them all squared away, I took the big girls to school. Back home to get Laura ready for school and get myself together for an errand marathon. I forgot to set the coffee pot so I had to stop and get some on the way to preschool. I got Laura settled into her classroom and headed to the DMV. That’s right. The dreaded DMV. I had already gotten my FL drivers license so all I had to do today was get the car tag done before it expires tomorrow. No biggie. My first trip through the line I found out that even though the van is in both mine and Robert’s name, the SC DMV only put his name on the tag form therefore I have to have a copy of his drivers license and his signature (not a copy, the real thing) or a power of attorney (once again not a copy). Not usually that big of a deal. But Robert happens to be in China for the week. Grrr. So the lady behind the counter said to just give her my proof of insurance and she would issue a temporary tag until he gets back. No problem! I had the proof of insurance….on the counter in my kitchen. Seriously. Fortunately I only live about 1.5 miles from the DMV. Back to the house. Squeeze between the A/C trucks and the house. Try not to step on the workmen or their tools. Get the proof of insurance. Back to the DMV. Of course when I got back the line was five times as long as it was the first time I went through. (Apologies to my Birmingham friends who have it way worse in DMV world!)

Now while in line I had the opportunity to people watch. Admittedly a favorite activity but not one I had time for at the moment. Anyway. One man had been “given” a boat by a friend. (Apparently I need new friends.) He did not have any paperwork and could not find the boat’s identification number. He argued with the teller for about 10 minutes until she finally said “COME BACK WHEN YOU FIND THAT NUMBER……..AND BRING THE FRIEND THAT “GAVE” YOU THE BOAT!”

The next young man in line was really confused. He announced to everyone that he was homeless. Then he proceeded to ask the teller if he brought in his roommate would that count as proof of residence?  He even said that he was living in someone’s apartment. Then he repeated the word homeless about 10 times. Apartment = homeless? I don’t think so. He must have been going for sympathy. The woman behind the desk had none. He was there to get a tag for his new BMW.

I finally got my temporary tag and headed to the next destination. Toy Hell. It dawned on me yesterday that while I was trying to enjoy the end of the Thanksgiving holiday that Christmas is a mere 3.5 weeks away. I am NOT prepared. I started on my list last night trying to find the one thing that my husband and I have agreed to get my oldest daughter. (I am not divulging any secrets because she is smarter than I am and if I write it anywhere she will find it.) I do not like Toys R Us. I am not ashamed to say that. I had to go there because it was the only place in town that still had this particular item in stock. I always feel like that store is taking advantage of me because I am a sucker who loves to see her children get something from their list on Christmas. But I got the LAST ONE in Sarasota so I guess the trip was worth it. Score 1, again, for Toys R Us.

Time to get Laura. Fix lunch. Put Laura in her bed. Agree to let her get up without taking a nap since the A/C men were crashing around under the house and she had been yelling at them through the window for at least 30 minutes. She was also announcing the arrival and departure of every repairman that dared darken our driveway. Fix snack. Pick up the big girls from school. Head to the doctor’s office for a follow up visit. Stop by Old Navy on the way to replace Abigail’s school sweater that she lost. Try not to hurt Laura for loudly singing her new song about sticky, sticky bubble gum while I’m talking with the doctor. Try to keep Abigail from throwing up after her appointment (she’s doctor squeamish). Head home. Carry sleeping Laura from the car into the house. Fix dinner. The whole time I’m fielding emails about PTA, calls from my part time job, chats from my unable-to-sleep husband overseas. Finally it is time for the girls to put on their pajamas, brush their teeth and go to BED. Whew.

I am not complaining. Parenthood is hard but rewarding. And most days are not as crazy as today. Tomorrow is grocery and laundry day. Not so bad. The truth is I love my life. I have huge respect for families who juggle full time jobs and parenting. I don’t know if I could do it. Our situation works for us and that is what counts. A sense of humor and a supportive spouse make it all possible. If I couldn’t laugh I would probably go postal.

Just proofreading about today is exhausting. And it starts all over in the morning. I’ll say it again…whew!

This year in our normal fashion, the Donovan household watched Charlie Brown’s Thanksgiving special and the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. It wouldn’t feel like Thanksgiving if we didn’t watch them.

It all begins with Charlie Brown’s The Great Pumpkin. We watch it faithfully around Halloween. I have seen it every year. As soon as the music begins I am whisked down Nostalgia Lane back to sitting in our little den watching it with my brothers as a child. I laugh at the same parts and am not bothered by the fact that I can recite the whole episode almost word for word.

After Halloween and Thanksgiving the traditions continue.  The tree…the lights…the music…the movies…the food…the time with family…the smells…the decorations…the eggnog…the presents…the sights…the holiday cards…the list is abundant.

This isn’t the first time I have talked about tradition and it probably won’t be the last. Some families don’t participate in any rituals and that is fine. For us, these observances are the things that shape our perceptions of the season. They personify a sentiment that we pass from our parents to our children. Our enjoyment of the family traditions is the glue that binds our family holiday experience.

Some of it can all get rather silly I know. But it brings out the child in me and in Robert. And makes our girls giddy with glee. That is the best tradition of all!

…family…delicious food…friends, both new and old…happy children…long walks…beautiful weather…visits from afar…

For these things and countless more, I am humbly thankful. What a wonderful way to start the holiday season…

I love Charlie Brown. Growing up, my family holiday traditions always included watching the Charlie Brown specials on TV. I have fond memories of watching it with my brothers and laughing at the same scenes year after year.

One of my favorite Peanuts characters is Linus. He carries around his beloved blue blanket while he philosophizes about life and waits for the Great Pumpkin. I never thought I’d have a Linus of my own but I do. Hattie is Linus. She has a yellow fuzzy blankie. She takes it everywhere. All three of my girls have a special blankie but Hattie is the only one who has clung to hers with this much devotion for this long. We don’t let blankies leave the house unless we’re on a trip but she carries hers around the house all day. She makes it into a cape. We’ve figured out how to make it into a one-shouldered dress. She is soothed by it when she is upset. It is a tea party tablecloth or a picnic blanket. She ties it around her head like a turban. She can fashion a papoose for her dolls. The possibilities are endless!

It all began when Hattie was about 15 months old. She couldn’t fall asleep until she could rub the hem of her blankie between her fingers. We don’t know why…it’s just something she started doing on her own. Then she started wrapping it around her head in her sleep. Now, at 6 and a half, I have to unwrap it from her neck every night before we go to bed so she won’t sweat to death!

Hattie’s love of her blankie has become one of her special traits. I know at some point she will start having blankie-less adventures. I just hope it holds together until then!!

Yesterday morning I was writing a check and I wrote down the date. 11/9/10.  I had this strange feeling that the date was important.  I did a quick mental inventory of birthdays and anniversaries and came up with nothing.  A few minutes later I gave up and went about my hectic day.  It wasn’t until a conversation with my father at the end of the day that I figured it out.  Thirty seven years ago on November 9th my sister passed away.  Noel lived just a few short weeks past her first birthday.  I never knew her…but in some strange way I feel like I did.

My father talked to me and to both of my brothers yesterday but they were not conversations of sadness.  It was more of a remembrance of love.  We are not a family of grave sitters.  While her remains may be at the cemetery, we feel that Noel is not really there.  She lives on a little in each of us.

Noel’s life has never been a secret to me.  There are pictures of her in frames around the house and dolls that belonged to her and then to me. There was no big family meeting during which her existence was “revealed”.  She has always been and always will be a part of our family.

Even though Noel’s life ended before mine began, I have always felt an ethereal connection to her.  I am not ashamed to admit that I have shed tears many times during my life because I longed to know her.  Would we have looked alike?  Acted alike?  Had similar handwriting?  Walked a comparable path in life?  Had like taste in friends or clothes?  Would I even be here if she had lived?  It is a great mystery for me.  It sounds like I spend a lot of time thinking about Noel but, like it or not, that is not true. I usually remember her on her birthday each year.  I don’t know why this time was different.  I don’t have an explanation for that tinge of familiarity yesterday morning.  Regardless, she is now on my mind.

I do often wonder how my parents dealt with her death.  Medicine wasn’t so modern then and her condition was not curable.  They had no choice but to accept her fate.  It is not lost on me that if medicine wasn’t so advanced as it is now, my daughter Laura would not be with us.  I cannot even bear that thought.  Now that I am a parent I realize that our time with our children under our wing is so very short.  My oldest daughter was born and before I could turn around she turned 9.  Where has the time gone? Have I impressed upon my children just how important they are to me? One can only hope.

Now it is the 10th and the anniversary of Noel’s death has passed by again. She had a large impact on our little family and we are all lucky, whether in reality or in our dreams, to have known her…

I am starting to feel like a normal person again.  Let me explain….

Eight weeks ago, Robert started a new job in Sarasota, FL.  His job in South Carolina was not a good fit from the start.  That being said, he was not looking for another job.  The guys in FL came after him.  It was a courtship that ebbed and flowed for over a year.  As things in South Carolina deteriorated, it became clear that this was the right opportunity for our family.  It was not an easy decision.  Apart from the job, we loved Anderson.  The girls were thriving in an excellent school.  We had a fabulous gang of neighbors.  A great house.  Close proximity to family.  A great community.  The list goes on and on.  But the job was just not there. Robert was stuck in a corporate environment.  He is a creator, a builder, a visionary.  Like it or not, Robert is just not a corporate person.  I think that you spend too much of your life at work to hate it.  The goal is happiness and stability!

So once the details had been hammered out, Robert headed off to Florida while the girls and I stayed in SC until the time for our move came.  It was a long 5 weeks of traveling back and forth on weekends, packing, researching, adjusting, searching, planning and trying to stay sane.  In hindsight that was the easy part.

The movers came and we made the long drive down.  We camped out in the house with a couple of air beds until the furniture arrived.  When the movers got to our new house, we went from empty to stuffed-to-the-gills with only trails leading from room to room in a mere 6 hours.  It looks a little like an episode of Hoarders.

This is the part that has driven me to the edge.  Teetering on the brink of my sanity.  I am usually an organized, calm, on time, relaxed person.  It has been 5 days and I still haven’t found my soap.  Or the broom.  Or the brackets for the one shelf I really need to set up in the kitchen.  Or the Barbies.  Or the Febreeze.  Or the girls hairbrush.  Or my favorite tennis shoes.  The list goes on and on….

I know that with the weekend coming up we will manage to get a lot done and I will probably be able to find everything.  But I’m not an overly patient person.  I’m a know-it-all who likes to be in charge.  What can I say…I’m a stay at home mom to three little girls.  I have to be the CEO…and the CFO…and the COO…and the person that has to make dinner and clean the toilets and listen to the girls shout “Mom!  Have you seen my _____ ?”.

In time we’ll get there.  We are living in paradise and the job is a dream come true.  I just have to take a deep breath and step away from the edge of the pit of insanity.  That’s a leap I can’t afford to make!

When we told the girls that we were moving to Florida, I promised them that they could have a party with their friends before we left.  Today was the day that I kept my promise.  Between 3 and 5 this afternoon, there were 10 little girls running amok in my house.  Laura had friends over for her birthday party last weekend so today’s bash consisted of Abigail and Hattie’s friends.  Laura was the go between.  As the girls split themselves into two groups, Laura played mediator darting back and forth relaying plans and secrets.  Some of the girls were dressing up in our myriad of princess gowns, some were running around outside.  There were lots of laughs, a few tears and even more squeals of delight.  At the end of the 2 hours, the girls were picked up one by one until it was down to our three.  Abigail, Hattie and Laura were left hungry, smiling and exhausted.

This move is bittersweet for all of us.  We have loved Anderson.  We have made life long friends that we will miss wholeheartedly.  But the job is too good to pass up.  It is a bright opportunity in a cloudy economy and all five of us are thankful for it.

The girls have been in bed less than an hour and they’re already well into the snoring competition.  Score 1 for Mom!

As usual, Abigail blossomed over the summer.  This year she started violin.  She read the first 4 Harry Potter books and is halfway through the 5th.  She has made a multitude of crafty masterpieces and science experiments.  It is her favorite time of year.  There is something about getting up with no agenda that brings out the creative spirit in all of my children.  They love to stay in their pajamas all day and “forget” to brush their hair.  It is free and fun.

About a month ago, Abigail went to camp for the first time.  It was a 10 day experience like no other.  She had a ball.  She tried new activities and made new friends.  She also happened to be there on her birthday.  We had a little party before she went to camp and they celebrated during camp so she was able to stretch the occasion out over almost a week.  Joy for her…hard for Mom to be away from her on that special day!

While she was gone, Hattie, Laura and I went to North Carolina with my parents to visit relatives.  We had a great time too.  But I missed her.  Oh, how I missed her.  So much so that when I finally crept my way through the line of Suburbans to find her on pickup day, it was like one of those cheesy chick flicks.  I spotted her and she saw me and I leapt out of the van and we ran for each other.  I couldn’t squeeze her tight enough.  My eyes were filled with tears of joy.  I had reunited with my love.  Of course it only took her about 15 seconds to say, “Mom!  That’s enough!”  I let her know how important she is to me and I almost embarrassed her in public.  I must be doing something right!

She gained confidence and perspective while at camp…two things that are so very important at this age.  Whoever equated children to sponges was a genius.  They soak up everything.  As a parent, I have to accept that they will learn plenty without me.  They do not NEED me to teach them everything.  Of course they get information at school but they glean information from their surroundings all day long.  Abigail is very observant.  She is starting to notice people and their behavior.  She is learning those hard lessons about why people do some of the dumb and hurtful things that they do.  I hate to see her innocent view of the world tarnished but the real world is out there, like it or not.

I am so proud of the person she has thus far chosen to be.  Of course she has her moments.  We all do.  I had several today.  But for the most part, she is a loving, kind, thoughtful child.  Robert and I are completely, unashamedly in love with her and we can’t wait to see what she does next!