Wooly Sweaters

Yesterday, my mom had the kids outside so they could play in the warm June sun (with sunscreen, people - don't worry). Alison and Sammi were chasing down bugs when they came across a cute little green caterpillar. The conversation proceeded as you would expect with discussion about how caterpillars turn into butterflies. As is typical for my mother, she took the opportunity to turned this moment into a learning session. The conversation went something like this:

"Well, yes, they can turn into butterflies,

but they can also turn into moths"

Grandma said.

{Alison wrinkled up her nose and makes a not-so-appealing face}

"What's wrong Ali?"

"I don't like moths", she says.

"Why not?"

"Because they eat my sweaters".

Father's Day x 3

This past Sunday was Father's Day - a day to celebrate all the wonderful ways that the Father's in our lives make our worlds more colorful. Scott, the kids and I were fortunate enough to celebrate the day surrounded by my family - my brother and his kids and my parents. It really was a wonderful day - relaxing, pretty calm and enjoyable for all of us.

As I sat around our table surrounded by my Dad, my brother and my husband, I realized that I am one lucky girl.

First off, I have my Dad here with me to celebrate this day. I have many friends / co-workers that are my age that are not so lucky. Thankfully, he has chosen to take care of himself and keep himself healthy into his 60's despite having a challenging family history of diabetes and high cholesterol. I am so grateful that I have a loving, warm relationship with him. I think of all the girls and women in this world that are estranged from their fathers - or worse - don't know who their fathers are - and I am saddened. What must Father's Days be like for them - or for their fathers??

I think about what my life would or would NOT be without my Dad's influence. He has been there for me in so many ways - shaping my life and my personality. He was my coach in softball, my own personal instructor in golf, my mentor in life. He has listened gently when I needed him to, he has also raised his voice a time or two to keep my butt in line when I needed him to. Most importantly - he just gets me - I mean he truly knows me and what is in my heart. Maybe it is because we are so much alike in spirit. Without him, my life would not have been nearly as funny, nearly as sweet, nearly as easy. He is my Keeper of the Captain, my constant jokester, my every-day hero and I love him so very much. Happy Father's Day, Dad. I'm the luckiest girl alive to have you as my Dad and my friend. You make my world a little more wonderful just by being in it.

Secondly, I have a wonderful brother who has an amazing family (Dean's wife was home on Sunday not feeling very well, so pictured above is Dean, Clay and Morgan). They have been through a lot these past few years and they keep coming through the clouds with strength and determination to smile each day. Amazing. I always get such a kick out of having all our kids together with my brother. Dean and I are the "easily frustrated" parenting group, while our spouses keep the peace and maintain composure - a trait that I am sure we both wish we had more of. I find that when we are together with our kids, we sound like twins - telling our kids the same things, warning them in the same way, using the same threats that were used on us as kids. It was this day that it struck me...

...we have officially turned into our parents.

Lastly, I am so very lucky because the wonderful man that I married is not only a kind and loving husband, he is one of the most patient and caring fathers I have ever seen. Three little hearts beat in time when Scott walks through the door each day...waiting for their Daddy to get home to play. I watch his persona change the moment he walks through the door...his eyes light up, his posture changes and his mannerisms become more gentle and sweet. It is as if I can actually see his heart melting inside his body for these little princesses that he helped bring into this world.

There are a lot of men in this world that could not handle our daily life...three girls that are now 7, 4 and 3. (Seriously - can you imagine what Scott has to go through just to find a bathroom that doesn't have a girl in it doing some sort of primping????) The poor guy doesn't have a chance in hell of watching his own show/sport on television or playing a game of catch without someone breaking a nail and running off crying. Even the card games around our house are things like "Sleeping Queens" or "Princess Uno". There is no room for him in his own bathroom in the morning because three little bodies need Mom to brush hair, help brush teeth, etc. and his garage is now housing a plethora of Barbie bikes, scooters and skates - ALL OF WHICH ARE PINK!! It takes one confident and self-assured man to raise three girls and I am so grateful that "our man" has what it takes to put up with all of our insane behavior!! On your eighth Father's Day, Scott, I love you and am so proud of the Daddy that you have become. I know your girls own your heart - just know that you have an irreplaceable spot in ours.

This year had to be hard for Scott given his Dad was in Florida for Father's Day. But, being the champ that he is, he put on a happy face for his girls and had a great day. Dad Sewick, we miss you terribly and I know it goes without saying that Father's Day wasn't quite the same without you. We'll see you soon and we hope to celebrate on the beaches of Florida come July.

Since starting this blog, I find myself seeking more time to just sit back and contemplate our day to day happenings - a good thing I think for someone who is usually so anxious to get to the "finish line" that she forgets to enjoy the "race". So today, as I reflect on Father's Day, I believe one thing holds true: you can judge a man's character by the type of father that he is. Fortunately for me, I am surrounded by strong, caring, loving men that make fatherhood look easy - a task that is no picnic. To all of you, I am inspired and amazed by you daily. You are loved by all us Sewick women today and everyday.

It Ain't All Roses...

This past Saturday night, Scott and I actually got out on a date with some friends of ours from Grand Rapids (thanks for a great time Kristy and Greg!! We had a blast!!). My parents were kind enough to take all the girls for a sleep over. Usually, this is a great time had by all...okay, except maybe my dad who has to put up with three girlie-girls running around his house on full speed. Unfortunately, when we called to check in the next morning with my parents, we were surprised and disappointed to find out that not only had Alison and Sammi started a fight over which mattress they were going to sleep on, Sammi had also thrown a major hissy fit for her Grandma Kemp. Oh, how I hate hearing that my own mother had to see THAT. It makes you feel like such a failure as a parent.

So much for the pink bunny squeeze!!

Needless to say, the girls' sunny disposition disappeared when Scott and I arrived at my parents house and took them all home immediately. And the really sad part was my dad had made cinnamon rolls for breakfast and Scott didn't even get one (okay, I snuck one while the girls were "getting it" - I admit it)!

Once in the car, Scott proceeded to informed the two guilty parties of their punishment: no tv for a week, no bikes for at least a week, no sleepovers, no play dates, and confinement to their room for the entire day on Sunday....

...Wait...did he just say what I think he said.

"You have to stay in your room all day today"...yep, that is what he said. I have to be honest - when I heard him say it, I cringed. I mean, who was he punishing anyway...us or them? But a "united front" was what we had decided to present, so a united front we would be.

It started out sweetly...two little girls with their wounded prides playing together.

Aaahhhh....but you knew it couldn't be THAT easy.

About 30 minutes later, all hell broke loose and girls were screaming, legs were kicking and someone was holding onto someone else's toy with a grip of death. As I usually do, I started for the bedroom...then I paused just long enough to hear Madison say to no one in particular:

"They are either going to learn to get along

or they're going to kill each other".

Hmmmm...I believe a parenting lesson was being sent my way so I chose to let it play out. I waited in the hallway to find out which direction it was going to go...do I call my parents with a victorious story of calm, cool parenting techniques that even Super Nanny would be proud of or do I call 911 and hope they get here before Sammi ends up looking like her armless, hairless Barbie doll?

Much to my surprise and relief, they managed to not only get along most of the day, but take naps at the same time and "read" each other books before bedtime. Amazingly enough, no blood was shed and no one had to be threatened with her life!!

I know we are not the only parents that have these moments with their kids, but when they strike, they really make you questions your ability to parent, not to mention your sanity. Where is that little instruction booklet that we were supposed to get when we brought our kids into this world? If you have my copy, let me know what tips are disclosed in the chapter on "sweet lil stubborn girls", would you?

Sunflowers & Dancing Shoes

This week marks Sammi's last

days of dance class. She is gearing up for her first dance recital on Friday on the stage of the historic Frauenthal Theater. What a treat!! I'm so excited for her and she is just thrilled to get all dolled up with makeup!!

And here she is....my own personal burst of sunshine...

Sammi has really come into her own this year. She's found her own interests, she's really doing well in dance class and her teacher was amazed at how much progress she made these last few months of preschool. She's learning self control (thank you God...you do hear prayers!!) and the hissy fits that have come to haunt our house are slowly disappearing. That doesn't mean that things are calm yet...likely they will never be while Sammi is involved, but we've come to appreciate her spirit (sometimes through gritted teeth).

Recently, after a particularly rough night, I asked Sammi why she has such crazy outbursts when she doesn't get her way. See, she is extremely stubborn, much like her two parents. She said "I don't know...I just can't get it all under control at once". I thought...I know that feeling! Between "end of year" school activities for the kids, the workload that is picking up for both Scott and I and all the fun activities that come with summer, I feel at times my head is spinning. How could I expect a four year old to have it "under control" when I don't seem to know which end is up myself??

I thought it would help things if we came up with a "trick" to help Sammi keep her cool when things aren't going her way, so we talked about ways to keep calm (seriously...was this ME telling HER how to stay calm when you are upset...this must be the twilight zone...the same girl that STILL hyperventilates when her father raises his voice). Since I had yet to master ANY of the suggestions that we came up with, I thought it best to let Sammi figure out what would work for her. Sammi, being smarter than her mother, opted for squeezing her bunny, Pinkie, as hard as she could for ten seconds and then taking a deep breathe. I thought that was pretty mature for a four year old. Ah, progress!!

Now if I only had my own pink bunny...

4,383 Days of Marital Bliss

June 1st was our twelve year wedding anniversary. How crazy is that? Three kids, one dog, two houses and about a dozen cars later...here we are!!




Two years into our dating life, Scott proposed to me on Valentine's Day. Scott had just come back from a semester in Scotland (December 1993) and we were trying to figure out where life was going to take us. We were still in college at the time and we didn't want to get married until I knew where I would be employed come graduation and until Scott knew what he was doing about law school. Two more years later, on June 1, 1996, Scott and I were married in a Catholic mass at St. Patrick's Catholic Church in Grand Haven. Outside of the birth of our three children, it was the most beautiful day of my life.



To mark the day, I thought it would be fun to pull out our wedding album and let the girls see what we looked like then. Sammi wanted to know who the twelve year old was in the picture with her mom - of course, that would be my child-husband, Scott. We did look young (he more than I)- but more than that we looked happy, excited, ready for whatever life threw at us. Good thing too, because life threw us many a curve ball those first few years. We lived in Lansing our first year of marriage, away from the family that we loved and had come to rely on as our security nets. We had only each other to confide in, to fight with and to talk to...we built a foundation that has weathered a lot of life's storms that year.


On anniversaries, you can't help but look back on the past years and remember those images that you have permanently etched into your memory. If I close my eyes, I can still see Scott's expression the first time he walked into the church before our ceremony and saw me in my dress. If I close my eyes, I can still see how handsome he looked in his tux and the certainty in his eyes when he said his vows. I can still hear my dear friend, Jerry Privasky, sing the "Our Father" - a moment that brought tears to both our eyes because it was so beautifully done and meant so much to both of us. And the flowers...who could ever forget those flowers..right Mom?


This anniversary seems particularly sweet. We are in a place in our lives that just feels so natural and comfortable - a place of reconnection. Our kids are a bit older now - we aren't up half the night and we're aren't as sleep deprived. We are not doing rock-paper-scissors for who has to change diapers or get a bottle ready. We can actually spend ten minutes talking about our day without being interrupted with some kind of emergency. As I write this, I feel at peace with where I am in life and with the life that we have built for ourselves and for our kids. Don't get me wrong, times are not all blissfully sweet - there are plenty of times that we don't see eye to eye on anything for weeks on end - but somehow we've managed to love each other through all of those times and persevere to a place that is warm and soft, caring and loving.


I am grateful every day that this handsome, loving man asked me to marry him. I have thanked my lucky stars a million times that he picked me and that I was smart enough to grab on with two hands for the ride of a lifetime. Happy Anniversary, Bub. You are my life, my love, my forever.

Lordy, Lordy - Yep, He's 40!!

Memorial Day weekend marked a BIG (and I mean BIG-HUGE-GIGANTIC) birthday for my big brother, Dean. I can't believe that he is 40...it was just a few years ago that we were talking about my mom turning 40 and how OLD she was. I was just driving at the time and knew everything about life at the ripe age of 16. Twenty years later, my only brother was taking the bus to MiddleAgeville and in four short years, I'd be a passager on that bus as well. Yikes - time flies when you aren't paying attention!!

We marked the day with a little picnic at Dean and Deborah's house. My parents, my brother and I threw back a few drinks and talked about the good ole days. We ventured into scary territory when the Wild Turkey bottle came to the table and my darling brother offered me up a shot to celebrate. All I can say is that stuff is better than motor oil and worse than cough syrup...and to think this is the drink of choice up in the "north country" of deer camp. Why anyone would actually drink that stuff ON PURPOSE is beyond me, but I couldn't disappoint the birthday boy. A couple shots later and we'd found ourselves stripping jackets off because of the "after burn", searching for the answers to global warming (cause man, it was HOT out there after those shots!!), and deciding that faith might be a topic that we should avoid while drinking stuff that makes you stupid:)

My brother and I are what you would call polar opposites for the most part. He was the really, really smart guy - the one that went to Western and never got less than a B+ (and there was only ONE of those!!). He stayed close to home initially and then ventured off to school after a couple of years working and saving money. He paid for most things himself and didn't ask for much from my parents. He's the "outdoor" guy - hunting, fishing, you name it, he likes it. He's handy, he's thrify (unless it involves buying something for my parents or deer hunting) and he's the biggest teddy bear you'll ever want to meet. He inherited by father's dark hair and my mom's blue eyes - my dad's quick frustration levels and my mom's tender heart. All qualities that make him the wonderful person that he is.

I don't often tell my brother how much he means to me or how much he is loved because there is sure to come the not-so-gentle teasing that I learned to love growing up. But on this special occasion - the death of his youth **LOL** - I thought I would try.

Deano, you're my big brother -

the one that wouldn't let me follow you or your cute friends around -

the one that kept me up at night worrying because you snuck out of my bedroom window instead of your own to hang out with your friends-

the one that made my head pound with your "bips".

You're also the one that stuck up for me whenever I needed you to-

the one that was there for me and listened when I didn't quite know what to do -

the one that still makes me laugh with your crazy antics.

Happy Birthday Big Brother -

The best is yet to come

(or so they tell me because I'm not there yet...HA!!!)