Category Archives: holidays

Happy Birthday to Me!

Posted on by Stacy Swiger

Yesterday was my birthday.  It was also a Monday, so it was laundry day, grocery shopping day and Kid A had an interview in midtown at 7PM, so she and Sheepdog were not home for dinner.  Best birthday ever, you say?  Wait… it gets better.

The day started around 12:15AM when Kid E moseyed into our bedroom and asked to cuddle with me.  As I took him by the hand and led him back to his own room, I cursed him silently for waking me.  This back-and-forth routine continued over the next three hours.  The silent cursing did not last long.  Every time I would start to fall asleep again, Kid E would tap me on the shoulder.  By the hundredth time I felt like I was being tortured.  On one trip back to his bed I told him congratulations on giving me the worst birthday present ever.

His confused response was, “But I didn’t even get you a present.”

If somebody is up during the night I always try my best not to disturb Sheepdog, because he has to get up early and go to a real job.  By 3:45AM I was exhausted, infuriated, desperate, and on the verge of tears.  I no longer cared about Sheepdog and his stupid job.  So the next time Kid E came in I ignored him.  Sheepdog finally heard him (“Mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom, mom…”  Seriously, how does the man NOT wake up?) and he jumped out of bed.

“WHAT?” whisper-yelled Sheepdog.

“I have to pee,” said Kid E, very matter-of-factly, with a hint of “What would you have me do…urinate in my bed?  I’m no savage!”  So Sheepdog took him to the bathroom and then back to his room.  At last, the kid was sleepy enough to stay in there.

“Happy Birthday, ” Sheepdog whispered to me when he came back.  “I’m sorry you’ve had a crappy night.”

“I’m thinking of moving out,” was my very serious response.  I don’t remember if I dreamed over the next three hours, but if I did it was probably about locking myself behind multiple doors with heavy deadbolts.

I wish for world peace. And for skinny thighs.

I woke up later to Kid D screaming that his stomach hurt as he was running past me into my bathroom.  “I don’t feel so good,” he sighed as he crawled in bed next to me.  I didn’t even care if he had washed his hands first.

As I was zombie-walking down the hall to put Kid C onto the elementary school bus, I realized that Kid B had overslept and she would need a ride to school.  This keeps getting better.

Actually, it did get better.  Kids A, B and C went off to school.  Kid D felt fine, so I dropped him off as well when I was taking Kid E to preschool.  Then I went home and collapsed until I decided to make my own birthday cupcakes for dinner.

Sleep is a funny thing.  I am a girl who needs a good nine hours, so I rarely hit my mark.  I make up for it by sleeping in on the weekends (Shout out! Sheepdog for helping me do that) and taking occasional naps.  You’d think I would be used to interrupted rest after having five babies, but I never adjusted.  The cumulative effect of sixteen years of sleep deprivation has left an indelible mark on my personality.  I’m meaner and even more sarcastic.  I have even been known to growl on occasion.  I have to use more under eye concealer.  It is not a good thing.

It is a good thing that Kid E has some sixth sense thing happening, because he was one more sleepless night away from being put up for auction on eBay.  Last night he went to bed without incident and then slept through the entire night.  I am a different person today than I was yesterday.

Today I feel like I can take on the world.  Today I feel like I am a Disney Princess and everyone around me is a singing animal.  Today I am She-Ra, Princess of Power.  Today I feel like Wonder Woman and Laura Croft and Buffy the Vampire Slayer all rolled into one, except not all fit and and wearing some sexy ass-kicking costume because I’ve just been too tired to work out lately.

But today I have the energy to fix that!  I’m gonna go work out right now.  Then I’ll probably take a nap, because who knows what tonight will hold.

Wish me luck for tomorrow…

My Baby Had a Birthday

Posted on by Stacy Swiger

Poor, poor Kid E.  By the time he does anything we are so “been there, done that” that we just roll our eyes and sigh as we go through the motions.  This weekend was his fourth birthday.  We had a family party and invited his aunts, uncles and cousins.  Technically, I feel that most three-year-olds are too young to have any real friends.  I do not count the few kids who don’t bite them or hit them or steal the toys they are playing with to be “friends.”  I guess I could have invited some of his little preschool classmates, but he doesn’t even know their names.  He just calls them by the color of their shirts when he recounts the events of the day.

Quick aside… I actually thought that my kid was really racist when he first started doing this.  He would tell a story about “the black boy” or “the yellow girl” and I would be like, “What did you call them?”  But he would point at them and I would see that the boy was actually wearing a black t-shirt and the girl was in a pretty dress with yellow flowers all over it.  Whew.  I thought I really screwed up for a minute.  Nothing like thinking that your kid might be a sociopath.  Imaginary crisis averted!

So my sisters and their husbands (minus the one who needs to be in his man cave for the entirety of all Tennessee football games, bar none… we missed you/ are offended by that, B!) and their many, many children came over on Saturday afternoon to help us celebrate the four years that my youngest son has spent as a member of our crazy family.  We hung out, the older boys wrestled to the point that the house shook, ate some yummy food and we just generally caught up by spending time with one another.  But it is not a real family party until somebody cries.  Here’s how this one met the mark…

Sister B has not one, but two children who have peanut allergies.  One of them is severe – it can mean life or death to this child.  She has a prescription for an EpiPen and she leaves one in the school clinic (the “nurse’s office” for you old-schoolers) for an emergency situation that we all hope never occurs.  Our family is familiar with the fact that her kids can not be around nuts, and we plan accordingly when having a party.  It has taken some pre-planning, some reminding and a slight learning curve (Who would have thought that pretzels could be a no-no?  Snyders also makes peanut butter pretzels, so the disclaimer “processed on equipment that processes peanuts and tree nuts” is on their regular pretzels package.  If you have a nut allergy it is best to just say no.)  And even with several children in our group who will eat nothing but peanut butter sandwiches for two of the three main meals of the day (we have tried everything you can think of, and we continue to try periodically…) it can get dangerous.  And the discussions can get heated.  Here’s where this particular one went…

Sister B’s oldest son has the severe nut allergy.  He is in fourth grade in public school and according to their parents, so do many other children in the class.  So the teacher made the decision to ask that no one send in peanut-based foods in their lunches, snacks or treats.  Apparently this did not go over well and the passive-aggressive emails started circulating.  Sister B was up in arms about it.

We were trying to discuss with Sister B how you have to beware the slippery slope of telling people in the general public what they can and can not eat.  Although how can you weigh any argument (even convenience, cost or the fact that many elementary-age kids are particularly picky eaters) against “but my kid can die if he comes into contact with nuts?”  Even the notion that a great number of food intolerances are exaggerated into allergies (the CDC estimates that less than 4% of American children and 2% of American adults have true allergies, while the FAAN – The Food Allergy & Anaphylaxis Network – says the true numbers may be less than 1%) was conceded by Sister B when she found the data online.  Yet she kept going back to the fact that her son actually is severely allergic (with a doctor’s confirmation) to nuts and could have an anaphylactic reaction if exposed.

Then Kid C shared her story about a classmate I will call “Brian.”  Brian had an allergy to dairy and every time a child celebrated his or her birthday at school with treats for the class, Brian had to go to the clinic and get a special dairy-free cupcake that his mom had provided for him.  Kid C meant for the story to show that Brian was easily able to participate in the celebrations despite his allergy, but it just made Sister B even more sad about the whole situation.

“Poor Brian.  He has to go to the nurse’s office and eat his cupcake.”

“No,” Kid C clarified, “He just picked it up at the clinic, but he ate with us in the classroom.”

“Did the other kids in the class make fun of him for it?” we asked (gambling that the answer would be negative, so as to reassure our sister).

“No, it was just what he always did.” she answered.

“Oh, they might as well make him wear a t-shirt that says ‘I’m Different!’ said Sister B through her silent tears.

And that’s how you throw a great family party.

Happy Birthday Kid E!  I hope you liked your train cake.  I made it with love.  And gluten, but no nuts.

I wish my cousins didn’t have food allergies.  And I wish for a Nerf dart gun.

For more information on food allergies go to http://www.foodallergy.org.

Wish me luck for tomorrow…

Memorial Day

Posted on by Stacy Swiger

The town I grew up in holds the best small town Memorial Day parade.  Even after I moved a few towns over and had my own family, I still took them back to Absecon every year for the wonderful experience that is their Memorial Day parade.  They traditionally start at the American Legion Post 28 and work their way down New Jersey Avenue, then they turn onto Route 9 and head up to Veterans Memorial Park.  The American Legion and the Veterans of Foreign Wars Post 9462 then hold a Memorial Service in the park.  It is thoughtful and reverent and a wonderful tribute year after year.  The park is filled with veterans and their families and friends.  Generations gather together to pay tribute and remember those who have served our country.  They deliver speeches filled with words like bravery, sacrifice, heroes, honor and patriotism.  They end the tribute every year with a gun salute.  It always moves me and makes me proud to be even a little part of it.

My uncle, Lance Corporal Gary Fredrick Paarz, H CO, 2ND BN, 7TH MARINES, 1ST MARDIV, III MAF, was one of the many who died during his service to our country during the Vietnam War.  Because he also grew up in Absecon, his name is on the memorial in Veterans Park.  He was my dad’s older brother by less than sixteen months.  I never met my Uncle Gary (he died before I was born), but I have heard many stories about him over the years.  He was fun and funny and full of life.  I can’t imagine losing a child or a sibling, but I do know that his family is so proud of his service.

Pop Pop at the World War II Memorial in Washington, D.C.

Another source of pride for me is that I get watch my grandfather, Henry Singleton Speed, Torpedoman Second Class, who served in the U.S. Navy during World War II, march in the parade.  Actually, he’s in his eighties now, so it is more like he rides in a classic military vehicle or a convertible, but he is in the parade nonetheless.  Afterwards, we go with him to the V.F.W., where he previously served 15 years as Quartermaster, to hang out and eat barbecue.  He served for almost four years on two ships… a DE-181 and a DD-808 everywhere from the Atlantic Ocean (both North and South) to the Pacific Ocean.  His family is also very proud of his service.

There are so many people who have similar stories… those who have served and those who are serving, those who have died in battle and those who now carry the title of veterans.  We owe them all our gratitude for their bravery.  It is on this day that we gather each year and stop to remember those who chose a path that can be difficult and dangerous and certainly requires sacrifice by them and their families.  And to them all we should give respect and thanks.

Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. gave a speech on Memorial Day 1884 in Keene, New Hampshire, to the Grand Army of the Republic in which he said, “I heard a young man ask why people still kept up Memorial Day, and it set me thinking of the answer. Not the answer that you and I should give to each other-not the expression of those feelings that, so long as you live, will make this day sacred to memories of love and grief and heroic youth–but an answer which should command the assent of those who do not share our memories…But Memorial Day may and ought to have a meaning also for those who do not share our memories.”

He continued, “So to the indifferent inquirer who asks why Memorial Day is still kept up we may answer, it celebrates and solemnly reaffirms from year to year a national act of enthusiasm and faith. It embodies in the most impressive form our belief that to act with enthusiasm and faith is the condition of acting greatly. To fight out a war, you must believe something and want something with all your might. So must you do to carry anything else to an end worth reaching. More than that, you must be willing to commit yourself to a course, perhaps a long and hard one, without being able to foresee exactly where you will come out. All that is required of you is that you should go somewhither as hard as ever you can. The rest belongs to fate. One may fall-at the beginning of the charge or at the top of the earthworks; but in no other way can he reach the rewards of victory.”

So please take time to remember all of the service men and women today, as well as their families.  Thank and shake the hands of the ones you see and pray for those you don’t.  And in their honor, believe in something and want it with all your might.  “So must you do to carry anything else to an end worth reaching.”

Friday the Thirteenth

Posted on by Stacy Swiger

The things that scare me as a grown up are still the same things that scared me as a kid… the death of a loved one, being burned by fire, the loss of one of my six major senses (after five kids I have added “sanity” as one), and the cancellation of General Hospital.  But nothing, and I mean N-O-T-H-I-N-G, scares me more than the horror and suspense films I could not look away from as a kid.  I saw The Shining, Cape Fear, The Exorcist, Jaws I, II and III, and the seventeen thousand installments of  Halloween,  Friday the 13th,  Nightmare on Elm Street, and Poltergeist.  I skipped the really violent ones (like the Texas Chainsaw Massacre series , The Saw ones, and the ones with that doll named Chuckie).  But the ones I rationalized as “my kind of horror film” I would watch multiple times.  I paid to see them in the movie theaters, then I would watch them again when they came out on HBO.  And then I would rent them on VHS and watch them over and over and over again, alone and in the dark for maximum effect.  Then I wouldn’t be able to sleep for weeks and taking a shower with nobody else home or camping at the lake was out of the question (well, camping has always been out of the question for me, but I’m really more of an indoor girl).

So today on Facebook one of my grade school/ high school classmates posted a link to a video done by the College Humor folks called “It’s Friday… the 13th.”  Of course I followed the link and watched it.  I have been listening to everyone from Kids A – E to Conan to the doofuses on Glee (actually, they were kinda OK) singing that brain-infesting song “Friday” that poor little Rebecca Black originally put out there for the world to make fun of see on You Tube.  And I just told you my childhood connection with the scary stuff.  You couldn’t keep me away if you tried.

The first time I watched the link was on an iPad and at 00:26 I reflexively pressed the home button and threw the $499 device across the room.  The second time I watched it, I couldn’t make it past 00:37, when Jason comes up to the van door.  Note that I watched it again.  And I’ve watched it three more times since I typed that last sentence, although I haven’t gotten much farther without having to avert my eyes.  At least I’ve stopped throwing the iPad.

Scary movies really should be just for teenagers.  Little kids have monsters under their beds even before they know that they can follow the light into their television.  Grown-ups have scary realities like unemployment, cancer and the Republican candidate for President in 2012.  The most teenagers have are the fears of bad grades, acne and not being able to access beer while you are still underage.  That stuff is nothing to be afraid of, so they actually need the bone-rattling panic caused by a really good poop-in-your-pants horror movie.  I highly recommend them for the 13 to 20-year-old set.

I have not seen the more recent (from the past 10 years even) horror films that have gotten some pretty good reviews.  The Scream movies are supposed to be good, as are the Paranormal Activity ones.  I just couldn’t bring myself to watch the trailers for those films, let alone the movies themselves.  Now that I think about it, I did see The Blair Witch Project and The Sixth Sense, but I watched them both in the middle of bright, sunny days with Sheepdog nearby.  And I only watched them once.

I guess I figured that I would get over the fear of horror movies eventually.  I keep testing the waters every few years – like by following the link, or keeping my eyes on the screen during a preview for a new scary movie, or even by trying to watch an actual feature film.  Yet, still to this day I am left rattled by the images and sounds that are burned into my brain by Jason Voorhees, Freddie Krueger and the little, fat exorcism lady who told us that the house was clear.  I think I have finally come to the conclusion that horror movies have permanently scarred and scared me.  I think I would be perfectly happy if I never watched another one again.

And I would definitely be happy if I never had to go camping again.  Scariest environment imaginable.  I’m just saying.

Wish me luck for tomorrow…