Brother and Sisters

I love it when we get to see pictures of your girls in maggie delaney!  These are Annie's kids on Mother's Day!  (It must have been nicer in Garden City than it was in Chicago!)  It's great when we actually catch our kids loving each other.  I am hoping this picture will dull my memory of Charlotte hitting Delaney with a very large, heavy plastic Dora doll today.  

must be that time of year.

School is almost out. Maggie is done tomorrow, and I think Delaney is done next week. Kel and I talk every day, and we end up knowing so many more details about each other's lives that we would if we didn't have maggie delaney to bring us together every day. Our conversation today was about who made the more disgusting sack lunch for their daughter today. Our fridges were both pretty bare this morning.

Here's what the girls ended up with:

Delaney had:

a half a peanut butter sandwich (because there was only one piece of bread left and no jelly)

a box of raisins (not exactly fresh ones)

a small bag of pecans (the dregs of a bottom of a can of pecans)

two pickles (I guess Kel thought she needed a vegetable)

Maggie had:

green apples and peanut butter (this is actually a staple in our lunch boxes)

pepperoni (because doesn't everyone eat spicy pepperoni with sour apples?)

chocolate milk box (because I felt guilty sending her to school with pepperoni for lunch)

Which lunch do you think is worse?

Maybe there is hope for my golf game!

Mother's Day 2008...

I took Maggie and Henry to the driving range. My golf lessons got cancelled because it rained the last three Thursdays. I was bitter about that and itching to get out there, so I took the kids and we hit the driving range, literally. Update from last year... my driver still does not work. I am still in love with my fairway wood, but other than that, the rest of my clubs don't like me very much. I just started golfing with my girlfriends last summer. We did the "divots and drinks" lessons and then did social league. I am a bit obsessed with the idea of becoming a decent golfer, and I'm thinking it's going to take at least 30 years to achieve this goal.

This morning, I had an email from my dad in my inbox. His dad, Ed Hogan, was a really good junior golfer in the St. Louis area many years ago. My Aunt Eileen found all these neat newspaper articles about my Papa Hogan's (who died in 1969, the year before I was born) golfing successes, and my dad's email included 12 articles from the St. Louis Post Dispatch that my Aunt Eileen had found. I am hoping that I got a gene or two of my Papa Hogan's. Maybe there is hope for my golf game. I'll keep you posted on the driver.