Lincoln Museum

My parents and my husband's family live about 250 miles apart.  One way to drive between the two goes right through Springfield, IL.  I grew up reading a bunch about our 16th president; the Springfield area is the place to visit for such interests.  A museum has been built in recent years, but we are always in a hurry to get from one grandparent to the other.  We have never stoppped.  Since my kids were staying with the Peoria family for a week--I used this opportunity to drive down to this much-touted museum:  http://www.alplm.com/education/home.html .

It was one of the most amazing places I've visited!  I could ramble on and on about the place, but for simplicity's sake--just visit it.  My father, daughters (12 & 13), son (6), and I all found elements we enjoyed.  The volunteers were top-notch.  It was spotless.  It was busy, but the ambiance was one of total respect--particularly in specific areas of the museum.  I read a free Kindle downloaded book about the president on our way to Illinois.  Now I cannot wait to read a quality book about him. 

More on Love

My oldest daughter is thirteen--and has all the "typical" teenage characteristics.  They seem major to me, but then I witness exchanges with other teens and their parents--she is a milder version of normal.  (Thank goodness!).  The "good night" rituals at our house used to include me tucking the children into bed and saying prayers goodnight.  Now, I get a mumbled "good night" and a 1/2 hug. 

Last night we all retired early since we are recovering from vacation.  My daughter did the mumble and 1/2 hug, then proceded over to the dog and loved on her and gave her a kiss on the head.  "Wait a minute!" I hollered at her.  "I'm your mom and I barely got a hug!  The dog gets affection and a kiss!?!?!"  Of course this brought laughter, but I did get a REAL goodnight hug.  She does still love us . . . almost as much as the dog.

The 19's

As is typical on Sundays, the dog and I were the first ones up.  My son was second--about an hour later. 

I asked him if he knew what happened eighteen years ago today.  "What was the date?" he questioned.  I told him it was 1992.  He informed me, "I don't know anything about the nineteens."  It was quite sweet and humorous.  I chuckled (as did his father when I retold the exchange) and told him daddy and I were married 18 years ago.  Now he knows something "about the nineteens."