Impeachment for Justice Melvin?

Suicide prevention seen in a new light

First Posted: 1/16/2013 Over the years, I've become less and less of an entertainer. A decade ago, my parents, siblings, aunts and uncles would wonder at my husband and my no-stress attitude about hosting events. 
Who's having Christmas this year?
We'll do it, we'd say.
Dad's coming in from California and wants to visit us all in one place. Who's up for hosting? 
We will, we'd interject, again.
Despite having the smallest house, we were completely relaxed about hosting a party and putting up a lot of people. The others took their turns, but I'm in the unique situation of having a husband who actually enjoys having company, even if it lasts for days and requires our entire immediate family to sleep in our room. 
Then we had one child, and another. We added an extra dog, then another baby. Last year I realized I don't like entertaining anymore. My life is too full and chaotic for the many chores that go into it. There's the laundry, the making of all the beds and the massive grocery list. Despite multiple trips to the store for forgotten items, I will always forget something very critical, like decaf for my longtime, non-caf sister, or eggs for the pancake batter. It seems my brain is on overload with the information required to get me and my family through each day. There's no room left over for the organizational skills required to be a good host. 
And it's a lot of work. There's the non-stop putting out of meals, cleaning up of meals, loading the dishwasher and unloading the dishwasher. There's the constant suppression of my desire to tidy people's things, pick their socks off the couch, make their beds and remove their purses from my very limited kitchen counter space. And the cleanup! The tears that well up as they drive away are truly because I wish they lived closer, but might as well be for the work that lies ahead in the reassembling of the house.
But then Newtown happened. The horror of what occurred made these holidays different. We all held our children closer. I said yes to them a lot, maybe every time they asked for something. And one result was to have people over.
A month earlier, I had unenthusiastically offered to host an annual cookie exchange. It had been held at the homes of most of the other bakers over the years and, having enjoyed the fruits of others' labors long enough, I decided it was my turn. The day of the event, as I set out wine glasses and hors d'oeuvres, my girls asked if any of the kids were coming. 
Why not? I said. Let's see. I texted all the invitees, Why don't you bring your kids this year? They can have their own party in the basement. And they had a blast.
My daughter's birthday was fast approaching as the holiday break came to a close and, as usual, her invite list was a mile long. Normally, I'd think of all of my other responsibilities and my own stress level and tell her to pick five of her closest.
OK, I said with only the slightest hesitation. 
Suddenly, the host in me is back, prompted by a national tragedy. Something like what happened in Connecticut can make people take a look at what's really important. For me, a top priority is making memories for my family. So about a little work, a little mess or a little cleanup? I can handle it. It's no big deal. What is a big deal is seeing the joy on my kids' faces as they are knee-deep in friends, surrounded by laughter and in the midst of joyful moments that will forever be imprinted in their precious minds.
Adriane Heine and her husband, Doug, own Dublin's Pub in West Scranton and are raising their three daughters in Waverly. She is an Adoption Specialist at Friendship House. Contact her at <a href=mailto:news@theabingtonjournal.com>news@theabingtonjournal.com</a> or with column questions or suggestions.

Memories outweigh stress Parenthood, Abington Style with Adriane Heine