Can you pinpoint your exact first memory of when you were a little kid? I can. It's as fresh in my mind today as when it happened. I was 2 years old. It was in late June, possibly early July, and I was sitting out in the car with a babysitter, waiting on my mom and dad to come out of the hospital with my baby brother. It was sunny and it was hot. I was standing up in the floor of the backseat and I could see my mom and dad through the windshield, walking towards the car with mom holding a baby. Mom told me later, when I was a lot older, that she was mad at Daddy for leaving me in the car with the sitter. That may explain why I don't remember her smiling that day. Nevertheless, I now had a baby brother. I'm told now that after the first week of having Jamey home, I told mom to take him back to the hospital because I didn't want him anymore. I was probably sick of him getting all the attention. So mom made a big deal out of feeding him "for the last time", bathing him "for the last time", dressing him "for the last time" and wrapping him up in his blanket " for the last time". Then she told me to kiss him "for the last time" because I'd never see my baby brother again. She made it clear out the front door before I called her back and told her I'd changed my mind.
We had a great childhood, Jamey and I, and I have a million memories of him. We played together, fought each other, and protected each other. He tormented me by EVERY means possible and there was even a time when we didn't even like each other. (teenagers. go figure.) I used to think that he and I weren't very close because we are SUCH opposites and didn't seem to have much in common. But now that we are both in our forties, I realize that we have ALWAYS been close. We don't have to like the same music, have the same friends and thank goodness, I dont' have to hunt, to be close. We are more alike than I ever wanted to admit. I'm glad that my first memory ever is of him coming home. And I'm glad that I changed my mind and decided to keep him! He's a pretty cool brother. Love ya, Jamey. :)
The kids and I went home for Labor Day, to spend some time with my side of the family. Dad cooked hamburgers and hotdogs out on the grill. We spent the afternoon and evening just visiting and enjoying each other's company. And laughing. A LOT! My brother and I did our yearly song and dance about when the Neal Thanksgiving would take place. I have to plan it around hunting season. I mean AROUND hunting season for every conceivable weapon! Personally, I think he's making some of them up. ( especially the blow dart one) He always winds up saying "just send me a sandwhich" and I always respond "if you don't come, I won't make your pumpkin cheesecake." The holidays can NOT start until we've completed this ritual arguing. We don't need a script...we've been doing this for years. I cook a traditional Thanksgiving meal a couple of weeks before the actual holiday, and they all come to my house and eat it. They don't understand why I like to go to all that trouble fixing all that food. From scratch. I do it because that is the ONE time a year I get to have them all under my roof, and that makes me happy. I do it because I love to cook and set my table with my Grandma Neal's china. I do it because it offically starts the holiday's off for me. But most importantly, I do it because I love them. Even if they don't read my blog!
I am a working mother of two teens, spoiled dachshund and an effervescent Golden Retriever. AND I have a husband who is addicted to fishing. I love to cook, scrapbook, read, watch movies and hang out with my family and my friends. This blog is a place for me to store the extra stuff in my head!