Newsflash

Hey there-

To me Henry (11) is all Wellenstein and Arthur (7) is the McGoldrick. People say they look exactly alike but I know differently.

Henry looks just like his dad, has a lot of the same interests, and has the reserved observant nature of his father.

Arthur looks like my brother and is more lighthearted and social. The way he greets people and handles himself in a crowd reminds me of my dad.

I have often thought the two would make a good political team. Henry would be the speech writer and Arthur would be the one shaking people's hands. (not that I would wish a political career on either of them mind you)

Henry obviously had more time with his dad, and Bob took advantage of the time to introduce Henry to many of his passions, some of which included cooking, camping, science and bike riding. After Bob died I desperately wanted to keep these interests close to Henry's heart. But as any parent, widowed or not, has to realize, the child will have their own interests and you can't force yours onto them.

But, I will admit, that I continue to look for these "Bob Wellenstein" traits in Henry. It still makes me smile when Henry wants to make Bob's famous pancakes or when he excels in science at school. So it took me by surprise when Arthur began expressing interest in the kitchen.

"Mom, what can I do to help with dinner?"

Wait a minute.......I've been spending so much time looking for the Wellenstein in Henry that I may be missing it in Arthur. He's not ALL McGoldrick, clearly. Neither is Henry ALL Wellenstein.

As a matter of fact, a friend recently made a comment about Arthur's social nature; "I wonder where he gets that from?" She then motioned her head towards Mike. Does this mean they are part Hogan as well?

Newsflash......both of them are their own person.

I know we all want to see bits of ourselves in our children. With Bob being dead I have searched for these bits even closer. Am I hoping to keep him alive through the boys? Am I wanting to prove that Bob was, indeed, alive, and not just a figment of my imagination?

I don't know.

What I do know is that we are all bits and pieces of everyone who has influenced us in our lives, alive and dead.

Thanks for checking in-

Irene

A House of Cards

Hey there,

Henry (10) had his first "health" class in school last week.

He came home chock full of information about adolescence.

"Mom," he asked me, slurping up his ramen noodles with a fork, "when did you start adolescence?"

"Excuse me?" I stalled, just exactly what was he looking for?

"What about Dad, when did he start adolescence."

Now there is a question I never thought to ask Bob before he died.

Henry went on to explain that when he was in adolescence he might be happy one minute and angry the next, his friends would be more important to him than his family (what!?!?), his motivation could be lacking, and he might have trouble focusing.

Hmmmmmmm........I think I am in adolescence NOW........

"When I learned about this stuff in school my teacher called it puberty, only he pronounced it pooooberty," I told him, still stalling a little, not sure why.

I have no idea what made me tell a 10 year old boy a story involving poo since five minutes later I saw him dancing in the dining room building a house of cards singing "pooooberty.....pooooooooberty".

Today the boys and Mike were leaving to go camping. I told my boys to be helpful.

"Mike has three healthy young men with him and he better not do all the work himself. Be focused," I encouraged pumping my arms in the air.

"OK, Mom," Henry said, eyes trained on his house of cards, "unless I enter pooooberty, and then I might not be very motivated or focused."

Damn school.

Thanks for checking in-

Irene

WOW!

Hey there-

Just when you thought you have heard everything, along comes a ten year old to prove you wrong.

Mike and I were on the committee to help plan Horizon Home Care and Hospice's annual Life Lights benefit for this year. The event raises funds for their Grief Resource Center which is a fabulous facility offering support groups, counseling and resources for the bereaved.

Friday night was a perfect cool clear fall evening at the beautiful Milwaukee Zoo where the event is held. Mike and I were in charge of one of the bars so the Aunts brought the boys to the event. It is truly a fabulous fundraiser with good food, good music, a sunset stroll through the zoo and plenty of opportunities to honor loved ones who have died.

One of the opportunities offered was to write a letter to your loved one and place it in a treasure chest kept safely at the center. Thinking Henry might like to write a note to Bob I went to find him among all the folks enjoying their fish fry.

"Do you want to write a letter to daddy?" I asked, once I had located them. "They have paper and pencils out there so you can write him a note."

"Do you mean my dead real one or my fake live one?" Henry asked in the sincere way he has. He needs to be certain about the expectations.

WOW! This is an interesting turn of events. Henry has always been so clear on who his dad is and who Mike is.

Initially, I was conflicted with his question, in defense of Bob I suppose. Plus, considering the event we were at I thought who the letter was for was rather obvious.

Not obvious to Henry.

Now, before all of you Mike supporters get all up in arms about the use of the word "fake" in Henry's description I would like to point out what a genuine monumental moment this was for Henry, Mike and myself. When Henry was asked to write a note for his daddy he was not sure if I meant Bob or Mike.......WOW!, again.

Fake, real, dead, alive, Henry's got it all.

Lucky boy. Lucky us.

Thanks for checking in-

Irene

The playground

Hey there-

I took the dog for a walk this morning. We walked past the playground where Arthur and Henry go to school. As luck would have it Arthur's class was being called in from recess so I had the opportunity to glimpse him in his world.

I love that.

Arthur came around the corner from the "colorful playground" and began to saunter across the black top towards the teacher. He was walking with a friend and talking very animatedly about something very important. I could tell it was important by the deliberate swinging back and forth of his hands and the tilt of his head to the side.

He is never at a loss for words that boy. On our trip to Yellowstone we went horseback riding and Arthur's horse was just behind our guide. He never stopped talking the entire ride. The gal periodically turned towards the rest of the group to fill us in on the topic of conversation. At one point he told her he would "never forget this ride in his whole life".

Where does he get his drama and love of conversation? Hmmmmmmmm, possibly the McGoldrick side?

In contrast, Henry said about two words the entire ride. The guide actually asked me afterwards if he had enjoyed himself. That is just Henry I told her. The next day, after he had a chance to process the event and evaluate the ride against all the other activities we did that day, he let me know what he thought about the excursion.

Where does he get his thoughtful introspection? Hmmmmmm, possibly the Wellenstein side?

Even though people will swear the boys look like twins I don't see it. When I see Henry I see all Wellenstein, and when I see Arthur I see a McGoldrick.

This morning as I watched Arthur confidently stride across the playground I thought how comfortable he looked in his world at that moment. And as I watched him talking to his friend I imagined the teacher telling him to stop talking during class just the way I had been told so many times in class. I shook my head and laughed a bit and thought about the little McGoldrick I had before me.

Just then Arthur stuck both of his hands in his pocket, hunched his shoulders a bit, put his head down and began walking with determination towards the already forming line in front of the teacher.

Oh my, that move was exactly like Bob.

The hair on my arms raised.

Don't forget, Bob reminded me, I had a part in that boy too.

Don't worry, Bob, I will never forget.

Thanks for checking in-

Irene