the call

If you are the parent of two girls in their 20’s who are deeply entrenched in romantic relationships, who have been out of college for a couple of years, who are gainfully employed, who are owners of their own homes, who are, in other words, full grown adults out in the world wearing hats, when the caller ID on your cell phone lights up with their significant other’s name your heart skips a beat because this could be THE CALL.

Jess' engagement ring

It was late June when Kenny’s name popped up on David’s cell phone display.  In a flash, a little  blue-eyed baby girl zipped from one to twenty-six, dragging memories of chubby cheeks, morning snuggles, yellow wookies, daycare nightmares, gymnastic meets, early morning donut runs, lizard sitting, college dorms and Phoenix airport signs through our minds.  Christi and Kenny will be getting married in October 2013.

Keeping in true form for the Allen girls, in late August Chambliss’ name popped up on David’s cell phone display. Once again in the matter of a breath, our baby girl with huge brown eyes zipped from one to twenty-three, dragging memories of tickling tummies, infections giggles, snuggles with her favorite kankee, tiny defiant hands on hips leaving us to walk behind her to preschool, two broken arms, gymnastic meets, shoe shopping, softball games and painting college apartments through our minds.  Jess and Chambliss will be getting married in April 2013.

Christi's engagement ring

THE CALL creates a flurry of emotion for parents.  For David, the dream of an arranged marriage committee with him as the chairman rigorously vetting out potential candidates goes up in smoke.  In reality, David would walk on water for his little girls so if they said they wanted this one, he would make it happen.  They have picked the one they want and David is thrilled for them!  For me, the overprotective Mom gene rushes to the front of the line demanding attention.  The “what if’s” are endless and then I remind myself—I have spent over 20 years talking to these two little birds about boys and frankly have never pulled any punches.  My girls knew what “the look” was and that they should stay far, far away from any man that had it.  When the kids got old enough that “marriage” was being thrown around, it became a constant mantra in our house “You cannot promise to share your life with someone before you have a life.  There will be no discussion of marriage until you graduate from college and live out on your own for a year in an apartment with a cat.  Knowing all the conversations I have had with the girls, some casual, some not so much, I have full faith that if one of my girls says this is the man they want to spend the rest of their lives with—that is exactly what they mean and I’m thrilled for them!

Normal people find it chaotic and stressful to have one wedding in a year, but in what seems to be true Allen life fashion, we will be having TWO weddings next year.  I’m not actually surprised that we got THE CALL from both the girls at the same time.  These two girls have been joined at the hip since they were old enough to walk.  Sometimes hugging, sometimes biting, but still, joined together by a bond only sisters can share.

All I can say is “Watch Out 2013—The Allen Girls are Getting Married!”

 

To read more from the Two Loons, check out our book Cookies for Dinner.

Cookies for Dinner

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

This was supposed to be a stress-free (or as close as possible) Christmas for me. Normally, I’m the one who hosts Christmas at my house for the herd of relatives who swoop in for a day of feeding frenzy and gift-opening chaos. My husband’s family is large, loud and wonderful but since I was filming my first television series this year, I had asked if someone else could take on the duties of being Christmas Central. Luckily, one of Scott’s sisters stepped up to the plate. I thought I was home free. Wrong.

Filming the last five episodes of the television show was exhausting and exciting but I came home ready to enjoy the holiday season. I had already missed Thanksgiving with my family due to the filming schedule and could hardly wait to have Scott get our Christmas decorations out of the attic. I love setting up the tree and decorating while listening to my favorite Christmas music and enjoying one of Scott’s world famous perfect fires in the fireplace.

I came home to an already decorated tree (compliments of my two children) and a house haphazardly decorated with all the decorations that were in a box marked for donation… in other words: the ugly stuff. The tree itself was adorned with lots of ornaments in one location and only as high as a 10-year-old and 8-year-old can reach. Not wanting to hurt their feelings, I had to be very subtle and gradual about moving one ornament at a time a few branches up and over during the next few days.

No fire in the fireplace due to temps reaching into the high 60s. At least I had my Christmas music.

Next came the never-ending illnesses. First, Gracie was sick with a respiratory ailment. I took her to the doctor, got the typical yucky-tasting liquid antibiotic and cough medicine and kept her home from school. The next day, Jack stood over my bed at 2am to announce that his stomach hurt and that he had vomited everywhere. He was right. Vomit was EVERYWHERE. Not wanting to keep this wonderful adventure in parenting to myself, I woke Scott up so he could help clean as I tended to my sick child.

The illnesses in our house decided to play ping pong thanks to that oh-so-popular stomach bug tearing through our school as well as the typical cough and cold:

Gracie got sick.

Jack got sick.

Gracie got well.

Jack got well.

I got sick.

Jack got sick again.

I got well.

Jack got well.

Gracie got sick again.

Scott started feeling stomach rumblings but never officially got sick.

Gracie got well.

Jack got sick again.

Jack’s feeling better but not 100% yet.

As I hear Jack coughing and sneezing over the beautiful sounds of Andy Williams singing “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year” I’d like to wish you and your family a very Merry Christmas and a very HEALTHY New Year.

 

To read more from the Two Loons, check out our book Cookies for Dinner.

Cookies for Dinner

 

The Final Hours

Before we agreed to begin remodeling our dining room, Scott (aka “Scott the Worker Man to the Allen children) assured me that the job would be finished by Thanksgiving.    Wednesday was a wild day filled with the chaos of Scott Bennett’s workers flying around my dining room attempting to get the job finished before the end of the day.  My brother, Wayne and husband, David had spent the evening before putting together our two new chandeliers.  Note to self:  when they say “some assembly required” on a 30” empire style chandelier be prepared to stand on a ladder while attaching about 1000 gleaming crystal strands and tear drops to the crazy thing.

As the hours ticked by, I became more and more grim.  There was so much work left to do, plus the massive cleanup effort necessary to get all the construction dust eradicated, that I was slowly becoming certain that my dining room would not be finished by the time Sandi, Barry and Stephie (David’s sister’s family) came in the door later that afternoon.  In an effort not to freak out I started plotting out plan B.  I had a 30 pound turkey sitting in the fridge with a 10 pound ham on the side that would have to be served somewhere.  Luckily we have a gigantic center hallway.  It runs 70’ down the center of the house and is almost 8 feet wide.  In the past when we have had large sit down dinners we have run tables down the center of the hall and voila, you have a banquet room.   With a sinking feeling I searched out the Thanksgiving themed table clothes and readied them for action.

At 3:00, I heard the distinct whir of a shop vac.  Then Scott appeared asking if we had any cleaning supplies.  It was like a miracle.  With loving care, these brutes that have been sledge hammering down my walls and using pneumatic nail guns with reckless abandon for the last three weeks began gently washing, wiping and vacuuming up all evidence that they had been in my house.

Thanksgiving dinner was served in the main dining room.  While still needing some finishing touches, Scott the Worker Man, true to his word had my dining room ready for Thanksgiving dinner.  As the mother of grown children, my happiest day is when I can see all of my kid’s faces in one room at the same time.  It was glorious having our entire family together for Thanksgiving dinner and the cherry on the top was having such a beautiful space to share it in.

Elf power

It’s that time of year again. That time when I must channel my inner misbehaving elf, and find new and different things for our elf on the shelf to do every day. As I read all of my friends’ posts on Facebook, I see how many creative things their elves get into and I really want to do those things but there’s just one little problem… I have OCD. In theory, it sounds wonderful to have the elf write on the wall with toothpaste or spread flour all over the counter or toilet paper the entire living room but I just can’t seem to do it. OCD is just not elf-friendly.

So far, our elf has been very stealthy and my children have thoroughly enjoyed looking for him in the craziest of hiding places but I just know they’re longing to find him in the middle of the bedroom with all the socks mis-matched or on the kitchen counter, surrounded by rivers of chocolate syrup and whipped cream. In other words, it’s time for this elf to toss caution (and OCD) to the wind and get into some trouble.

Tonight is my first test. I vow that our elf is going to get messy. Keep your fingers crossed that Elf power will prevail.

 

Beat the Clock

“If you can get it done before Thanksgiving you can start, if not, we will have to wait until after tax season next year.”  This is how my conversation was going with Scott regarding the renovation of our dining room.  Scott assured me in his normally loud voice accompanied by his booming laugh that he could get it done.  Scott has been doing renovations in the Allen House for so long that our children still refer to him lovingly as “Scott the Worker Man.”  Scott chuckled with delight as he was giving me a “to do” list with instructions that the trigger must be pulled quickly so that the project would not be held up.  Anyone that knows me knows I do not make decisions in haste and I certainly don’t let loose of my money unless I’m completely positive I have made the right choice.   My “to do” list—pick out the wallpaper; buy an antique door with glass panes to match our entry way and living room doors; purchase two new chandeliers complete with two ceiling medallions.  Both Scott and my husband, David, groaned when the list was handed out.  These are major decisions and the Kae Allen they know and love has little chance of getting them made in the requisite time period allotted.

Little did these two little nay-sayers know but I had been plotting out this dining room renovation for close to a year in my mind.  I had spent hours at an internet site called “Wallpaper Pirate” going over wallpaper patterns and had already found the perfect wallpaper.  Now that the time had come, I just had to go through the formality of getting the book, bringing it home and seeing what it actually looked like in its future setting.  I had spent countless hours scouring the internet for chandeliers and had narrowed the decision down to two options—one a traditional crystal chandelier, the other an Empire style with sparkly crystals draping down.  Once again, if you know me, you know I love the sparklies.  The Empire style was the winner and two sparkly chandeliers have been delivered to my door.  The door was my only issue.  Once again the internet saved the day.  I was able to research the doors, find a place in Nashville that salvages old doors and voila, we have a beautiful12 pane beveled glass antique door riding home in the back of our suburban.  My “to do” list is complete and on schedule.

My house has been invaded for weeks with the sound of mysterious banging and clanging as new walls are put up and the ceiling leveled.  My hallway has been the constant home to large piles of aromatic cherry wood waiting to be milled into new moldings, wainscoting and crown mold.  Today is the Saturday before Thanksgiving and my house is overrun with Scott the Worker Man’s worker men.  The house reverberates with the whine of an air compressor and the sound of nails being snapped out of a pneumatic nail gun furiously putting wood trim into its rightful place.

The excitement in the air indicates that we all know the clock is ticking.  The wallpaper man is coming on Monday as scheduled; the trim has to be up, stained and ready to go.  TICK TOCK, TICK TOCK!  Now I’m holding my breath to see if Scott the Worker Man can beat the clock!

The price of a baby tooth

Last night during dinner, tragedy struck. Gracie swallowed her loose tooth. She was inconsolable all through dinner because she had heard at school that the Tooth Fairy won’t visit if you don’t have a tooth to put under the pillow.

I assured her that the Tooth Fairy would certainly come and that she was well aware of how many loose teeth get swallowed or lost and never find their way under pillows.

Just to be on the safe side, we left a note for the tooth fairy. Gracie was able to sleep peacefully.

In the morning, tragedy struck again. Gracie came out of her room with huge tears streaming down her cheeks. The Tooth Fairy hadn’t come. Adult translation: I forgot to put on my Tooth Fairy wings and take care of business. Being well rehearsed in screwing up as a mother, I immediately put Plan B into action: I hid two dollars in my hand and told Gracie I’d help her make her bed with her. As I pulled back the covers I quickly slid the money between the mattress and the headboard.

Gracie found the money as she was placing her pillow back on the bed.

“I guess the money fell back there when I was sleeping,” she said with a huge smile.

“Well, you are a restless sleeper, honey,” I added with that all-knowing motherly tone.

With the tooth crisis over, I left the room to start preparing breakfast when I heard Gracie start to squeal.

“I didn’t realize she left me SIX DOLLARS!” she shrieked.

What? Six dollars? I walked in the room and saw Gracie holding a single and five dollar bill.

Note to self: next time put your glasses on before reaching in your wallet to grab two dollars.

What a weeper

Ask any one of my kids and they will tell you one of my favorite mantras is “if I had feelings they would be hurt, but since I don’t, it’s all good.”  How was I to know all those years ago that by the mere act of procreation I would be setting myself up to become a weeper.  Yep, me of little feelings has been seen weeping at the passing of my kids’ life events.  I wept when each of the kids went to Kindergarten leaving behind the carefree years of babydom.  I wept when each one of the kids graduated from high school, leaving behind the carefree years of childhood.   I cried like a baby when each one of my kids went to college, leaving me behind.  I wept when each one of the kids graduated from college, officially leaving their childhood behind and boldly crossing over into their adult lives.

My two girls are getting married next year and shopping for THE perfect wedding dress was number one on the agenda.  No amount of Mommy tough talk prepared me for the moment the sales woman whisked the curtain back revealing my little girls standing there suddenly all grown up in THE dress of their lifetime.  In one fail swoop, my little girls flew from being my little girls into full-fledged womanhood, and you better believe, this Mommy wept.

Thermostat War

November marks the beginning of the thermostat war in the Bennett household. We have three different control zones in our home and Scott and I have come to an understanding with regard to two of those zones but when it comes to the master bedroom it is all-out war.

I like the temp at a comfortable 72 because I don’t like heavy covers on me when I’m sleeping. Scott wants the temperature to hover at a temp so low you can almost see your breath.

I go to bed before Scott so my routine is to check the thermostat to make sure it’s at 72. Somewhere in the middle of the night though I wake up because my nose is running and my feet are frozen. I know that Scott has turned the thermostat down. So I tiptoe out of bed and set it back to 72. I hear the comforting sound of the heat kicking in. I slide back into bed and wait for the warmth to encircle me.  Sneaky Scott must not really be sleeping though because at some point the thermostat finds its way back down to North Pole conditions.

I’ve tried using an electric blanket but it isn’t just the bed that needs to be warm – I need the air in the room to be a comfortable temperature. I don’t want to feel as if I’m camping outside. I don’t want to have an icicle for a nose. We have the modern convenience of climate control and I want to take full advantage of it.

Somewhere around April the thermostat war will come to a temporary end but until then, I’m sleeping with one eye open.

Secret Code Word

In less than one month Jess has bought a house and has gotten engaged to be married.  There are a lot of things going on here.  First of all, the house has great bones but it needs a complete overhaul on the inside.  This is so right up my alley.  I love the big picture, floors, walls, windows, cabinets, baths, light fixtures, oh how much fun will this be (can you see me rubbing my little hands vigorously in anticipation?).  Planning a wedding, now this is completely foreign territory for me.  Luckily, Jessica went to college to be an event coordinator, she works as an event coordinator and is a certified wedding planner!  Pressure should be off on the wedding planning part, right?

Weird thing is, when your kids are little, you get to not only have opinions but you get to have mandates, “ Do what I tell you to do because I know best.”  Then they become adults and you are stuck thinking you may know what’s best but not having a way of getting this through to them without becoming overbearing.  Once you become overbearing, you get cut out of the project and your “opinion” is no longer needed or wanted. This is a tightrope that parents of grown children walk every day.  Some of us have exquisite balance; some of us are clowns with two left feet.  I somehow feel like I fit better into the latter category, so I have come up with my own solution.  I have developed a secret code word.  This is the secret code that she gets to use when I have overstepped my bounds, moved from opinion into mandate or otherwise just started to get on her last nerve with my ideas.  This is the secret code that only the two of us know so that if we are in a group of people no one else will be any wiser to our disagreement.

Our secret code word is “Shut Up”.

Santa’s Money

For Gracie, this has been the year of American Girl. She received an American Girl doll for Christmas last year and we also took a trip to the American Girl store in Atlanta this past summer. Big mistake!

Gracie loves reading the American Girl books and even knows when the AG catalog is due to arrive in the mail. She’s hooked.

As is usually the case, the passing of Halloween marks the annual Bennett children Christmas list compilation time. In the next few weeks their lists will go through many transitions as they try to compile the perfect line-up of gifts they’re hoping to receive from Santa.

Jack’s list is as chaotic and disorganized as he is. He wants a little of everything and his list is usually written on legal paper. By Christmas morning he will have forgotten half of the things on the list so it’s a safe bet that he’ll never be disappointed when he tears into his gifts.

Gracie, on the other hand, is meticulous and precise. Her list is a perfect reflection of her personality. I’m surprised she doesn’t alphabetize her list. Of course, if she did, it would be very easy this year because everything would start with “A” since all gifts are from American Girl.

She handed me her completed list yesterday and I noticed there were at least three AG dolls on it. Those dolls go for about $100 each. She also had a car on the list – the car she saw in the AG store in Atlanta. Retail price? Somewhere around $350.

When I mentioned to her that her list was overpriced she explained that it didn’t matter because Santa could make the toys. I told her that Santa had to pay for the Elves’ time and for materials. Her response was that Santa could also make the money to pay for whatever he needed. Santa could do anything. Unfortunately for Gracie, she’s going to find out this Christmas that even Santa is no match for American Girl.