Falling

Falling in love....Not the kind you're thinking of-This kind...

 

I can think back and remember being so in love with my parents and grandparents.  I love that my Mom read to me.  I loved that my Mom was the best singer in the whole wide world.  I love that my Mom rolled me up like a taco in my favoritist blanket each night.  I love that my Mom baked me cookies.  I love that my Mom allowed me to have an imagination, and that tea parties were a part of my childhood. I love that my Mom was my biggest fan when I played sports. I love that my Dad listened to music every single day, and that he listened to a variety of artists.  I love that my Dad pushed me in photography.  I love that my Dad was a great story teller.  I love that my Grandpa S. took me fishing, taught me to tie my own knots, and showed me how to read the water.  I love the Grandma S. treated us to the real cheesy chips; aka: Doritos. 

I love that my Grandparents were the ones I'd stay with when I was sick...or fake sick (sorry Mom) and we would be treated like royalty-waited on hand and foot.  Have our 'sick bed' set up in the living room and watch No Whammy's, Pettycoat Junction, and fall asleep by the time the soaps came on..only to hear about Luke and Laura when we woke up. 

I love that my Mom allowed friends to spend the night.  I love that my Grandpa S. took me camping.  I love that my Mom took me camping.  I love that I ate from my Grandpa and Grandma S's garden.  I love that my Mom had such a beautiful flower garden.  I love that my Mom accepted my gifts of forget-me-nots as if they were a beautiful store bought arrangement.  I love that Grandma M. had garage sales.  I love that Grandma M. worked at the hospital and called me Angel Face-while pinching my cheeks.  I love that Grandma M. brought us to the 'little store' to get popcicles when we were 'good or hot' or 'good and hot'.  I love that when I was a kid...I loved and was loved.

(Doesn't she look like a baby herself?)

 

 

Falling in love....Bonds of Siblinghood

 

Simply put-

 

 

 

You are So Beautiful to Me

So, the first victim came into my life, on my 6th birthday.

Yes, I may share my 'special day' with my little sister and I can tell you from the day she was born, and as soon as I first saw her-I was in love.  She was incredibly beautiful.  Her skin, her eyes, her hair! She was so sweet! She has always been a character.  She was so different than I.  We looked different, yet the same.  She was so loud!  She always played to the beat to a different drum, but never with a drum.  She's so glittery.  She's so smart.  She is so loving. She is so stubborn. She is the best sister one could ask for.  She is creative and doesn't even know she is.  She's determined and full of life.  She is the greatest mother.  When she was younger she certainly could have been considered a pest, and I still loved her.  I have always joked about wanting to return her...and get a new birthday gift...But, truthfully she has always been a gift to me....Always.

 

 

 

 

 

Then there were Three

It happened one fateful day (his fate not ours- B's and mine that is)...He was born into this world.  The cutest little 'always' our baby brother in the whole wide world.  He had two sisters to give him hell, I mean love...

 

 

 

 

 

He was stuck with us.  Everyone thought he was so cute.  I had an immediate baseball and football fan.  He wore Giants and 9'ers stuff early on...I taught him to throw a ball in the backyard, under the plum tree.  I was so excited to see him accomplish these feats! He was born a star!  He grew to love basketball.  He strolled around in the stroller with us wherever B and I went.  Wherever Mom took us...the little blonde curly top was right there!  Even today my friends say "Is this little Rossie?"  "Is this your baby brother?"  We both answer with pride, 'Yes it is...'...He beats us up later and asks us, "DO YOU HAVE TO SAY I'm your BABY BROTHER???"  Of course we do!  That's who you are! 

 

 

 





 

What happens now?

You ask if we fight?...But, of course!  We fight like the best of them!  If you were to ask any sibling group-You'd find the best and worst fighters there ever was/is.  We are the ones who fight with one another...We are the ones who fight against one another...We are the ones who stand up for one another...Just make sure you're on my side and you're in the clear.  BUT-Come 'hell or high water' if you're fighting against one of my sibs...You'd better be ready to have the rath of Big sister...There's no love like a big sister.  Just sayin'

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 We've all traveled seperate ways as adults and continue to stay close together.  Our bond is strong and our love for one another cannot be broken.  We randomly text one another-Sometimes too early...Sometimes too late...Sometimes when we can't talk to one another...Sometimes it's over due...Sometimes it's never long enough, when we see one another...Sometimes we all wish we lived next door...Sometimes we're glad we don't....But, most of all we miss each other and know one another like no other people on this earth know us.  We depend on each other...We strive to be like each other...We strive to not be like each other...We have fun times filled with side aches of laughter...We do new things and challenge one another...and We support one another from afar with confidence that has grown inside of us...for each one of us...We are siblings...and I am grateful, that I have been blessed with my Beautiful Sister, and my Always the Little Brother-What in the world would I do without them? 

 

 

 





 I can only hope that my children have the relationships and the love that I have with my siblings with their sibs.  I think they're off to a good start. What do you think?

 

 

 

Love Deeply, Live Out Loud & Live Your Dash,

T



 

 



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The Name Game

I can't for the life of me, tell you where my first name originated.  Bridgette Marie.  I think the Marie part came from a great grandmother on my Moms side.  But Bridgette?   I think I remember hearing Bridgette Bardot was a hot actress around the time I was born, and that could've been it?  Mom, help me out here...But what I can tell you is that I was ALMOST named Roxanne.  Yes, Roxanne or Roxie.  Whew, missed that one by a hair...All I think of when I hear the name Roxanne is that song by The Police.  "Roxaaaanne!  You don't have to put on the red lights, Roxaaaaane!"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=td7_ZLWPaaE






Growing up, when I was first starting to learn how to write, I remember having to practice my name.  I felt jilted that my name had nine letters instead of some of my classmates that had say, four letters to their name.  It's funny to look back now, as an adult, and think of the silly things like that.  Stuff that seemed life altering at the time.  Just recently, our daughter was scribbling with chalk on our driveway and we spelled out her name...I thought, oh man, she will probably have the same complaints as I did with a long first name...I can only imagine how T felt, with her name being Tristesse.  I wonder if she felt the same way I did?  T, don't feel bad...for the record, I wasn't lucky enough to have any bicycle license plates with my name on it either...We are two peas in a pod on that one.



It took me until Saturday until I finally came up with something to follow up on T's "What's in a name" blog.  During the soccer game, I was hearing names like " Tanner!  Drake! Jayden!"  It reminded me of the current naming trend.  It has really changed since we were children.  When I was in school you would hear, "Jessica!  Melissa!  Jennifer!" 

My husband I fell into the category of wanting a unique or different name than everyone else's.  For months we scoured the baby name books, the internet, listened intently as we watched movies, and met new people.  Naming our unborn child was serious business!

One day, I came up with the name Zane after doing some research on the internet.  I couldn't wait to walk in the door and run it by my husband!  As soon as I could, I blurted it out to him.  I said, "What about Zane?"  He thought for a minute and said, "Hmmm.  What about Zander?"  Immediately I loved it.  We already had decided that we wanted the middle name Davis, and Zander Davis sounded like a strong and masculine name. Appropriate for a young boy and an adult man.  Since then, we have had people tell us that Zander is a character from a soap opera, too funny!




Five years after our son was born, we decided to try for another baby.  Our son had begun school, and the thought of him not having a brother or sister had kicked in.  After conceiving, about 21 weeks into the pregnancy, we went to our ultrasound appointment.  We anxiously waited to hear if we were going to have another boy or a girl.  Secretly, I had been thinking we were going to have another boy.  I just pictured two little boys running through the house, bouncing off of the walls and doing "guy stuff" with my husband.  When we were told we were having a girl, we were so excited and we couldn't wait for her to arrive.  Now the hard part came along.  What do we name a little girl?



(For the record, even with a little girl in our house..she still bounces off of the walls and runs through the house with her big brother!)

There are so many beautiful names out there for little girls.  But it was so important to consider a name that would be appropriate for someone small and big.  We were having breakfast one morning at Noahs Bagels, and I told my husband, "You know what name I really like?  Vivienne."  I liked the ring of Z and V.  We both felt like we couldn't have a Zander and a Sarah.  No offense to the Sarah's out there, it just had to be another strong name with a unusual starting letter.  It was a hit immediately.  We were using the middle name Marie, so Vivienne Marie was the perfect name.  Feminine, and sweet.  I wavered a few times after that and ran the name by friends and family, and we were sure.  She was going to be named Vivienne Marie.



You may or may not have the same feelings, but I always relate names to people I have known in my past by the same name.  If it's a George for example, I know a George and think of him as a great guy...but if the name is tied to someone who isn't so pleasant, I tend to have a hard time getting passed that. 

Another thing along with choosing a name, usually comes nicknames.  I felt like it was just as important when choosing our childrens names to consider their initials, and possible nicknames that could be associated with their names.  I didn't want them to end up with something that could be tied to an unpleasant word or abbreviation for fear of teasing as they went through school or later in life.  People can be cruel and I didn't want to be the one who gave the creeps ammo to tease our two offspring.

There are so many things tied to names and choosing a name that will stick with your child for their life.  It can be one of the most important decisions made up until you hold your little babe in your arms for the first time.  I always like to hear the origination of names when I meet people, and it makes for a great conversation starter when you meet someone new.  If you would like to share your stories, post them in the comment section...We love to hear from our fans and friends!

Embrace Your Sparkle,

B




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What's in a Name?

Seriously...What's in a name? 

Tristesse Lee
Okay, I admit for years...at least near 41, my name has been a constant topic of conversation.  As a child in elementary school I didn't grow up with people calling me by my 'given' name.  As long as I can remember have gone by Teece, or 'TC'.  I'm sure Mom will put her two cents in at the end of this, as she does with each supportive blog comment.  I grew up knowing what my name was/is, but the endearing part in my name was being called 'Teece' by those who love me.  Those who're close to me and family would call me 'Teece'.  I have always liked that.  It's a shortened version of my full first name.  I did go by Tesse, and people pronounced it as 'TC'...and 'Teece'.  But, there were those who pronounced it 'Tessie'..Since probably before birth I've despised 'Tessie'...I didn't even like the Sea Monster Tessie because of it, even if if that was the Loc Ness Monsters real name, it certainly wasn't mine.  Even in labor with my oldest child my doctor addressed me as 'Tess', I thought I was going to hurt him, I was so mad!  No likey!

When in second grade a remote controlled car came out I was called A-TC for a while.  When ET came out, I was asked if I could phone home, or if my heart light would light up on request.  Then Magnum PI came out, I was razzed about being a black man, and asked if I could fly a helicopter.  I would be asked what 'TC' stood for?  Was it Terribly Corrupted? (Asked by a teacher.) Was it Too Cute? Was it Theresa Catherine?...I'd go into the spiel and both adults and children would loose interest before I could even finish.  As I got older and computers were 'in'...I would be asked by a lot of people if my name was 'PC'...No, I'm not a personal computer, and I do try to be politically correct for the most part.  There have been times when I wished my name was something like half of my other good friends who grew up with a name like 'Amy'...I mean...Amy, how can you mess that up?  I don't know any Amy's with heart lights, or other meanings to their name.  They I know had personalized bicycle license plates!

Try to find one of those with Tristesse!  Let alone one that would fit 9 letters!  Well, this all said...I do love my name.  Jokingly I always say that I'm sure that my parents wanted a ballet dancer wearing pink ballet slippers, but instead got cleats and a softball player.  (I did try ballet-HATED IT!)  I know that my middle name Lee, has some back up.  This name I'm told came to belong to me, because my Dad affectionately called my Mom, 'Lee'.  Funny how the evolution of names come alive.  It was years later, I found out where my middle name came from....Thank Goodness he didn't call her something like, "Sex Kitten".  I'd then be called Tristesse Sex Kitten...think of what kids would have said then!

My name and new employment, at times I've tried to go by Tristesse.  Always a fail.  My name and meeting new friends or friends of friends-Always interesting.  My name and name tags...Really?  A conversation always ensues...with a name like sadness, melancholy, slight smile...I challenge my name.


Naming the Children
When I was pregnant with my first child, I was most certainly aware of the importance in a name.  I was the one who grew up having to explain the meaning, spelling, and anything else to do with my name.  My then husband grew up with the name Charlie Paul.  He was named after his father and wanted to keep the family tradition going.  I understood, but did put my input in, about how he didn't like getting all of his father's paperwork, and sometimes mixed up paperwork for important documents in his lifetime.  I lost.  And our son carried the family name, and became the III.  I have always loved writing his entire name out, and I call him by Charlie Paul.  It's rare when someone calls him by Charlie Paul, I can tell someone who's known him for a short while vs. a long while...just by what they call him by. 

If he were a girl...I had a bazillion girl names picked out.  I love names...and loved trying to select the perfect name that would go on in time and be a timeless name.  Thank goodness he wasn't a girl.  He'd of been Shelby Lynn.  Even though I loved names like, Elizabeth, Aleiya, Brianne, Anne, Bronwyn - Poor kid.  I bet he's glad he's Charlie Paul too! 

Then came my second child.  I was pregnant and seeking a name.  I wanted a strong name if the baby were to be a boy.  I mean how can you follow the III?  It would be difficult to follow an older brother who carried the family name-wouldn't it?  I searched, and read, and searched, and read...I ended up with Wyatt.  Both my then husband and I decided, Wyatt was it.  Wyatt means, brave, strong, hardy war, little warrior.  That's a strong name.  Wyatt McLeod it would be.  No girls names were chosen.  This little bundle was a kicker, was a fighter, was a football player...Nope, she was a girl.  A girl with no name....for a least a few days. The names chosen for our oldest weren't right for her.  Those were names selected for our oldest, and didn't fit her.  So, the search for her name began, and we decided it would be Lyndsee.  No, not the traditional Lindsey, even though it would be pronounced like Lindsey, from the Lindseed tree...She would have an unusual spelling.  I tried to buck that too, but she got the 'Lyn' part to be part of my Mom's name.  Her middle name is Elizabeth Rachael.  I adore her middle name, it is so dear to my heart.  Elizabeth is derived from a couple of Great Grandmother's names and carried on...and Rachael.  Well, Rachael was my bestest friend in the whole wide world at the time.  She had three boys, and was not having any more children-No girls were in her future.  My lil Lyndsee was her girl.  Rachael for those of you who don't know, also was battling cancer at the time also...and was one of my most treasured friendships that I have had my entire lifetime.  I am eternally grateful for her sharing her name with Lyndsee.  I can remember asking her permission, she was honored.  We had a special naming ceremony and Lyndsee was officially named Lyndsee Elizabeth Rachel...and I just love her name.

As the children continued to grow my heart, the size of our family indicated that names were even more important in our lives than I had ever known before.  My third child grew in my heart through adoption.  She came to my heart at age 2.5 years old.  She was/is a spitfire.  She at that age would give anyone a run for their money.  At 2.5 years old, she had already been given a name, and gone by that name, and knew her name.  As the adoption process moved forward, she has always been, and always will be a Kimberly.  What a strong sounding name for a strong child.  What a great adult name to have too.  If she had, had her way, her name would be Ariel (The Little Mermaid)...But, we stuck with her strong name of Kimberly.  She was given the middle name of my Mother and Sisters middle names put together Annmarie.  Oh how I always wanted an Annmarie.  I'm not sure why that name just opens my heart, but it does.  It seemed to fit perfectly for my beautiful spitfire that stood before me...Kimberly Annmarie it is...Kimberly Annmarie is perfect exactly the way she is...I got my Annmarie.

Then came numero 4...Michael Noah.  Michael Noah was 3 months old.  He had different circumstances to his name.  He was special and gifted us differently.  He needed us and we needed him.  He was also a fighter, but you'd never know.  He had a gentle soul, even as an infant.  He's always appeared to be an old soul inside a young boy...who will grow into an old soul in today's times.  I was allowed to name him, he was young enough to change his name if we wanted to.  I did wish to change his name for many personal reasons.  We had never called him by his birth name.  We called him Boobah, or Boo.  (Even to this day, I'll call him that.)  I brought the name I liked to the dinner table for topic of conversation.  What a different way to come about a name, for a child who was already born.  Even if we all called him Boobah.  So, it was announced, his name would be Parker.  NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO the kids said!  What?  I had carefully chosen the name, and was so excited to share.  The oldest two said that Parker is a last name (they schooled with two children who had that as their last name.)  Okay, than you can each bring as many as 3 names tomorrow night to the dinner table, and we can try the names out then.  If one of those names are suitable, than we will consider it.  Let them be a part of the naming...and bringing in a sibling to their family dynamics. 
The next night they each came with names on sticky notes (which are now in Boobah's baby book).  Kimberly wanted names similar to Boobah.  Lyndsee wanted Boy Bratz Doll names like Cameron, Dylan, and Thad.  Charlie Paul wanted, Fredrick, Theodore, or William.  Each name was tried out on the bundle in the highchair...and the name that stuck was William.  They said, he looks like a Will.  William was perfect.  He got his name, and it was William McLeod.  Ooooo, I like it!

What? FIVE?  Yes, it's true number five came and I'll make it simple.  There was a reason number 4 was not named Parker.  Parker is number 5.  His name is a perfect fit.  Funny how names just work out.  Although he was a tiny one, and for months which have become years...he was called Peanut.  He sometimes with affection of course...is called Parker Peanut.  Just like Charlie Paul, you can tell how long someone has known each of the children...by which name they're called by. 


Name Game
The name game is always a good test to try...out a name.  Just saying....Think about it.  Try Tucker.


Conclusion
So, in conclusion...Your name means something besides the actual meaning...Your name comes from somewhere...it comes from your family.  It comes from tradition.  It comes from your birth family.  It comes from possibly a sibling.  It comes from the hearts of those who love you...So, the definition may not be sadness, melancholy, slight smile...It may be the girl who survived living with out a bicycle license plate and lived being loved by those around her.  The girl who loved dirt, playing outside, loves her family and friends...and most of all loves her ever growing family...continually....and although she likes riding bikes...She's never watched the full movie Bonjour Tristesse-only clips here and there-Because that's not who she is.

(Can't wait to hear B's version)

Love Deeply, Live your Dash, & Live Out Loud,
T



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Can you find the humor in, farts!?!

Only those who truly, truly know me inside and out know the things that make me laugh.  Not just a silly giggle but a laugh out loud, bust a gut, knee slapper.  It almost never fails that (ahem) one of these things is farts, yes farts can make me crack up like there's no tomorrow.



I can't handle when I have to smell another persons farts, but sometimes the sounds are too much and I just have to give into my juvenile sense of humor when it comes to this subject.  There are loud farts, silent farts (dubbed as silent-but-violent or silent-but-deadly in our house), there are smelly farts and scentless farts.  You can't imagine the amount of information there is out there on farts, and if you don't believe me google it.  I am completely serious, there must be more than just me who can get a good laugh out of this bodily function.

 


One of the worst farts I can recall is nicknamed "The cropduster".  Yes, you probably have experienced this and didn't even know it had a name.  You know what I am talking about here.  You are cruising through the aisles of Target nonchalantly, when you turn your cart into the houseware aisle.  Suddenly your nostrils are burning, and you smell something to resembles a rotten egg.  What could that be?  You have more than likely been "crop dusted".  What is that you ask?  It's when you or someone else cracks a fart (probably a silent one hoping to get away with it) and walks away before someone sees him/her.  The smell lingers and hits the next person who unknowingly walks into it.  Blaaahhh!





Another horrible, potentially near death experience would be called the, "Dutch Oven".  This fart is by far one of the most barf inducing blasters.  You are sitting in bed snuggled up to the one you love.  You are watching a movie, or talking over your day.  Blam.  Your head gets shoved under the covers and before you realize it you are gasping for air.  A fart was let out under the covers and you had to smell it up close and personal.  Thankfully I can say I have never experienced this one, and I don't plan on it...but I know people who have and lets just say it's not pretty.

A funny story I can share is one of my own.  Picture it, this was about 18 years ago and my husband and I had been dating for a few years at this point.  He was visiting me in my dorm room in college.  We were bored, and had little cash flow, and we were trying to entertain ourselves.  I do believe that he was watching a "007" marathon on TNT or something.  He suddenly lets out a fart.  Now for those of you who don't know him, he is not a very gassy person generally.  But regardless, he lets one out.  I start laughing and say, "I can fart louder than that one".  He looks at me in disbelief.  Keep in mind we were still basically in the "honeymoon" stage of our relationship.  No peeing in front of one another, being on your best behaviour etc.  He responds to me with, "I don't believe it, show me". 

He will tell you this story himself, that he never knew by opening up the flood gates on this particular day (or fart gates) that once he gave me the OK I was letting it loose from that day forward.  I know for a fact that he regrets that conversation to this day....

What is it about farts that is so funny?  Some people are completely grossed out by it, but lets face it.  I don't care how handsome, beautiful, funny, or smart you are...WE ALL DO IT.  Think about it, babies start farting bubbles in the bathtub and giggling...it starts from and early age.  I am most certainly not condoning people cracking farts all over in public, but if you are in the comfort of your own home and with your friends and family?  By all means, crack one once and a while...you might be surprised, it breaks the silence and you might just get a laugh out of them...As for lighting your farts on fire, I am not giving anyone permission to do anything of the sort. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TC44L21UtiA

You may be embarrassed to read this blog today, believe me I am slightly embarrassed to be sharing it with you...but since T blogged about honesty earlier today I thought I might come clean.

 

Embrace Your Sparkle,

B Pin It