Tuesday, September 18, 2007

Love letter for La La...

The children and I were driving to our first day of school at our homeschool co-op last Thursday, in Orange, NJ. For those of you aware of my total lack of directional skills...you won't be surprise to hear that when our navigational system, (we call her Lily) started turning herself off...I was up a creek! It turns out the main cord was pushed in too much...but by the time I realized this we were a little bit off track. We were driving along and all of a sudden I said, "This road reminds me of Michaela's neighborhood...neat." And then a moment later we all yelled simultaneously, "That was La La's car!" We were in Bloomfield (unbenownst to me), and actually only 4 miles from our school. Go figure!
I had to turn the car around and leave a love note on Chael's car...if it had been any later than 9:15, we would have banged on her door. I'm no fool though, I know this girl...and there was no way she was awake! It was such a fun way to start the day, feeling so close to my little sissy...so often Bloomfield seems like it's oceans away. It made her seem closer somehow, knowing she was near our once-a-week school...and knowing that I could get lost and end up passing her house, of all houses, in this great wide world of ours. I had a warm fuzzy feeling for the rest of the day, like I'd had a morning coffee-visit with her or something. I guess in my mind I did! But now I miss her. It's a double edged sword for me. I have to somewhat disconnect from her in order to not miss her so much...but this little, wonderful surprise kind of awakened my longing to have more time with her. I haven't figured out how to miss her and long for time with her, let her go to have her own life during her college years, and not grieve. It sucks!
It's a glimpse into what parenthood with my own college-age children may be like...and it's one that I could live without.

I wouldn't trade the love, and bond, that I have with Chael for anything... or the grieving that it inevitably brought into my life because she HAD to grow up and make her own life. My healthily letting go has been my challenge, not hers. You might say, these growing pains of mine have been inevitable too. I'm proud of what she's working towards, what she's accomplishing now, the woman she's growing into...and I wouldn't want her to still be at home at my beck and call. She's living out the life that she's been given, to paraphrase Amy Grant.
BUT...if I had the chance to go back in time for one single lazy day...I'd take it.

Amy Grant wrote a song for her sister, as she saw her grieving the loss of her oldest son who'd gone off to college.

The first time I heard this song I started thinking about what it would be like when Michaela went away to school...oh my heart!

Your smile lights up a room
Life a candle in the dark
It warms me through and through
And I guess that I had dreamed
We would never be apart
But that dream did not come true

Missing you is just a part of living
Missing you feels like a way of life
I'm living out the life that I've been given
But baby I still wish you were mine

And I cannot hear the telephone
Jangle on the wall
And not feel a hopeful thrill
And I cannot help but smile
At any news of you at all
And I guess I always will


Missing you is just a part of living.

Missing you feels like a way of life.

I'm living out the life that I've been given...

But baby I still wish you were mine.

Love, B

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

I Come to the Garden Alone...

We are gearing up for our first day at our homeschool co-op, St. Gregory the Great, tomorrow. How exciting! We had a wonderful, really fun day, last Saturday with the families from the co-op. The back-to-school picnic was hosted in one of the families homes. The children had a ball playing in the sprinklers with the other kids...and we adults had a grand time sipping wine and yakking it up in the shade. Or hiding out in the air conditioning...you do the math.
What an amazing group of people! Matt had a great time too, and that makes it all the more fun for me. You know how it is...you make new friends, and hope that your hubby will connect with them in some way. When he does see what you see, sigh. It doesn't always work that way, but when it does it's lovely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~and later I wrote some more...

I looked out the kitchen windows this morning while sipping my coffee, and the yard called to me. I then spent a good part of the morning weeding out there. This darn mid-summer knee injury really threw a monkey wrench into my gardening plans. In early spring we created a little rock garden area next to the patio, complete with water fountain, plantings (all plants with varying shades of purple blooms), and my grandmothers beautifully rustic St. Francis statue. In the rock garden I also planted a wooden planter full of herbs that we've been enjoying all summer. What a treat. In May, the children and I created a "Mary Garden" in the back corner of the yard. We (let's get real, the grunt work was Matt and I, not the kids) planted the most fragrant pink rose bushes I've ever experienced. They smell exactly like rose essential oil! There are also various Hybrid lilies, Day Lilies, Columbine, Ballerina Guara, and Oriental Iris'. I also planted an Ingrid Bergman Rose bush next to the rock garden...and talk about a prolific bloomer! The most spectacular, velvet red roses. On the other side of the yard I planted two Lilac bushes, two Concord Grape vines...and in the back of the yard near the Mary Garden we planted a Peony. All these plants have flourished, despite the total lack of love and care they've had over the last month. I couldn't imagine balancing on one leg to weed...and I just couldn't ask Matt to do it, he was doing everything else that I couldn't do! So today I finally paid the piper, and went out there and tried to beat back the jungle. I swear, those weeds were trying to take over the yard. Much to my amazement, there didn't seem to be an casualties...probably thanks to all the rain we had over the last 2 months. Even the Bleeding Heart plant in the rock garden finally took off after seemingly struggling for it's life for most of the summer.

Why am I boring you with these details about my out-of-control gardens? As I was carefully pulling out more exotic looking weeds than I've ever seen, it got me thinking about the weeding my own life needs sometimes. I've been working to be focused on all the beauty in my life, because I can lean more towards being a glass half empty girl. I wore a bracelet this summer to help me stay conscious about rejecting negativity in my life in all it's insidious forms. It helped a lot! I stayed clear with myself about wanting to have healthy boundaries and not get caught up in the self-induced drama of other peoples lives. I worked on being more aware of my reflexive anger...and I'm still working on that! Matt and I did a lot of praying together this summer, and both are feeling like the Lord is smack dab in the middle of our lives...and it's incredible. I go through periods of seeming stagnancy...or so it feels...and then I have some internal and external catching up to do. I'm not sure what I'm catching up with, maybe my own expectations. Nonetheless, todays yard work made me think about the Great Gardener...who lets me flourish or flounder under my own steam, via my free will...but then can always be counted on to come in and start pulling out all the weeds that have grown in my life, when I call out for it. All this thinking has me humming a song I love...

In The Garden

"I come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses; And the voice I hear falling on my ear, the Son of God discloses.

And He walks with me, and He talks with me, and He tells me I am His own; And the joy we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known.

He speaks, and the sound of His voice is so sweet the birds hush their singing; And the melody that He gave to me within my heart is ringing.

And He walks with me, and He talks with me, and He tells me I am His own; And the joy we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known.

I'd stay in the garden with Him though the night around me be falling; But He bids me go; Through the voice of woe, His voice to me is calling.

And He walks with me, and He talks with me, and He tells me I am His own; And the joy we
share as we tarry there, none other has ever known."

Hugs, Brig

Thursday, September 6, 2007

Sad day for serious music lovers, the world over...

Luciano Pavarotti, opera's biggest superstar of the late 20th century, died Thursday. He was 71.

He was the son of a singing baker and became the king of the high C's.

Pavarotti, who had been diagnosed last year with pancreatic cancer and underwent treatment last month, died at his home in his native Modena at 5 a.m., his manager told The Associated Press in an e-mailed statement.

His wife, Nicoletta, four daughters and sister were among family at friends at his side, manager Terri Robson said.

"The Maestro fought a long, tough battle against the pancreatic cancer," Robson said. "In fitting with the approach that characterised his life and work, he remained positive until finally succumbing to the last stages of his illness."

Pavarotti's charismatic personna and ebullient showmanship — but most of all his creamy and powerful voice — made him the most beloved and celebrated tenor since the great Caruso and one of the few opera singers to win crossover fame as a popular superstar.

For serious fans, the unforced beauty and thrilling urgency of Pavarotti's voice made him the ideal interpreter of the Italian lyric repertory, especially in the 1960s and '70s when he first achieved stardom. For millions more, his thrilling performances of standards like "Nessun Dorma" from Puccini's "Turandot" came to represent what opera is all about.

"Nessun Dorma" turned out to be Pavarotti's last aria, sung at the opening ceremony of the Winter Olympics in Turin in February 2006. His last full-scale concert was at Taipei in December 2005, and his farewell to opera was in Puccini's "Tosca" at New York's Metropolitan in March 2004.

Instantly recognizable from his charcoal black beard and tuxedo-busting girth, Pavarotti radiated an intangible magic that helped him win hearts in a way Placido Domingo and Jose Carreras — his partners in the "Three Tenors" concerts — never quite could.

"I always admired the God-given glory of his voice — that unmistakable special timbre from the bottom up to the very top of the tenor range," Domingo said in a statement from Los Angeles.

Pavarotti, who seemed equally at ease singing with soprano Joan Sutherland as with the Spice Girls, scoffed at accusations that he was sacrificing his art in favor of commercialism.
"The word 'commercial' is exactly what we want," he said after appearing in the "Three Tenors" concerts. "We've reached 1.5 billion people with opera. If you want to use the word 'commercial,' or something more derogatory, we don't care. Use whatever you want."

In the annals of that rare and coddled breed, the operatic tenor, it may well be said the 20th century began with Enrico Caruso and ended with Pavarotti. Other tenors — Domingo included — may have drawn more praise from critics for their artistic range and insights, but none could equal the combination of natural talent and personal charm that so endeared Pavarotti to audiences.

"Pavarotti is the biggest superstar of all," the late New York Times music critic Harold Schonberg once said. "He's correspondingly more spoiled than anybody else. They think they can get away with anything. Thanks to the glory of his voice, he probably can."

In his heyday, he was known as the "King of the High C's" for the ease with which he tossed off difficult top notes. In fact it was his ability to hit nine glorious high C's in quick succession that turned him into an international superstar singing Tonio's aria "Ah! Mes amis," in Donizetti's "La Fille du Regiment" at the Met in 1972.

From Beijing to Buenos Aires, people immediately recognized his incandescent smile and lumbering bulk, clutching a white handkerchief as he sang arias and Neapolitan folk songs, pop numbers and Christmas carols for hundreds of thousands in outdoor concerts.

The son of a baker who was an amateur singer, Pavarotti was born Oct. 12, 1935. He had a meager upbringing, though he said it was rich with happiness.
"Our family had very little, but I couldn't imagine one could have any more," Pavarotti said.

As a boy, Pavarotti showed more interest in soccer than his studies, but he also was fond of listening to his father's recordings of tenor greats like Beniamino Gigli, Tito Schipa, Jussi Bjoerling and Giuseppe Di Stefano, his favorite.

Among his close childhood friends was Mirella Freni, who would eventually become a soprano and an opera great herself. The two studied singing together and years later ended up making records and concerts together.

In his teens, Pavarotti joined his father, also a tenor, in the church choir and local opera chorus. He was influenced by the American movie actor-singer Mario Lanza.
"In my teens I used to go to Mario Lanza movies and then come home and imitate him in the mirror," Pavarotti said.

Singing was still nothing more than a passion while Pavarotti trained to become a teacher and began working in a school.

But at 20, he traveled with his chorus to an international music competition in Wales. The Modena group won first place, and Pavarotti began to dedicate himself to singing.
With the encouragement of his then-fiancee, Adua, he started lessons, selling insurance to pay for them. He studied with Arrigo Pola and later Ettore Campogalliani.

In 1961, Pavarotti won a local competition and with it a debut as Rodolfo in Puccini's "La Boheme."
He followed with a series of successes in small opera houses throughout Europe before his 1963 debut at Covent Garden in London, where he stood in for Di Stefano as Rodolfo.

Having impressed conductor Richard Bonynge, Pavarotti was given a role opposite Bonynge's wife, Sutherland, in a Miami production of "Lucia di Lamermoor." They subsequently signed him for a 14-week tour of Australia.

It was the recognition Pavarotti needed to launch his career. He also credited Sutherland with teaching him how to breathe correctly.

Pavarotti's major debuts followed — at La Scala in Milan in 1965, San Francisco in 1967 and New York's Metropolitan Opera House in 1968.

Throughout his career, Pavarotti struggled with a much-publicized weight problem. His love of food caused him to balloon to a reported 396 pounds in 1978.
"Maybe this time I'll really do it and keep it up," he said during one of his constant attempts at dieting.

Pavarotti, who had been trained as a lyric tenor, began taking on heavier dramatic roles, such as Manrico in Verdi's "Trovatore" and the title role in "Otello."

In the mid-1970s, Pavarotti became a true media star. He appeared in television commercials and began singing in hugely lucrative mega-concerts outdoors and in stadiums around the world. Soon came joint concerts with pop stars. A concert in New York's Central Park in 1993 drew 500,000 fans.

Pavarotti's recording of "Volare" went platinum in 1988.

In 1990, he appeared with Domingo and Carreras in a concert at the Baths of Caracalla in Rome for the end of soccer's World Cup. The concert was a huge success, and the record known as "The Three Tenors" was a best-seller and was nominated for two Grammy awards. The video sold over 750,000 copies.

The three-tenor extravaganza became a mini-industry and widely imitated. With a follow-up album recorded at Dodger Stadium in Los Angeles in 1994, the three have outsold every other performer of classical music. A 1996 tour earned each tenor an estimated $10 million.

Pavarotti liked to mingle with pop stars in his series of charity concerts, "Pavarotti & Friends," held annually in Modena. He performed with artists as varied as Ricky Martin, James Brown and the Spice Girls.
The performances raised some eyebrows but he always shrugged off the criticism.
Some say the "word 'pop' is a derogatory word to say 'not important' — I do not accept that," Pavarotti said in a 2004 interview with the AP. "If the word 'classic' is the word to say 'boring,' I do not accept. There is good and bad music."

It was not just his annual extravaganza that saw Pavarotti involved in humanitarian work.
During the 1992-95 Bosnia war, he collected humanitarian aid along with U2 lead singer Bono, and after the war he financed and established the Pavarotti Music Center in the southern city of Mostar to offer Bosnia's artists the opportunity to develop their skills.

He performed at benefit concerts to raise money for victims of tragedies such as an earthquake in December 1988 that killed 25,000 people in northern Armenia.

He had been accused in 1996 of filing false tax returns for 1989-91.
Pavarotti always denied wrongdoing, saying he paid taxes wherever he performed. But, upon agreeing to the settlement, he said: "I cannot live being thought not a good person."

Pavarotti was preparing to leave New York in July 2006 to resume a farewell tour when doctors discovered a malignant pancreatic mass. He underwent surgery in a New York hospital, and all his remaining 2006 concerts were canceled.

Pancreatic cancer is one of the most dangerous forms of the disease, though doctors said the surgery offered improved hopes for survival.

"I was a fortunate and happy man," Pavarotti told Italian daily Corriere della Sera in an interview published about a month after the surgery. "After that, this blow arrived."
"And now I am paying the penalty for this fortune and happiness," he told the newspaper.

Fans were still waiting for a public appearance a year after his surgery. In the summer, Pavarotti taught a group of selected students and worked on a recording of sacred songs, a work expected to be released in early 2008, according to his manager. He mostly divided his time between Modena and his villa in the Adriatic seaside resort of Pesaro.

Just this week, the Italian government honored him with an award for "excellence in Italian culture," and La Scala and Modena's theater announced a joint Luciano Pavarotti award.

In his final statement, Pavarotti said the awards gave him "the opportunity to continue to celebrate the magic of a life dedicated to the arts and it fills me with pride and joy to have been able to promote my magnificent country abroad."

He will be remembered in Italy as "the last great Italian voice able to move the world," said Bruno Cagli, president of the Santa Cecilia National Academy in Rome.

The funeral will be held Saturday inside Modena's cathedral, Mayor Giorgio Pighi told SkyTG24.

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

Wonderful Workshop Opportunity!

I wanted to share this with all of you. Caren is a dear friend, and hugely talented artist. This should be a really wonderful opportunity for everyone who registers! ~Brig

Mighty Visions…

Join us for a workshop of play, community, reflection & personal exploration where you can bring into sharper focus what you want by creating your own MIGHTY VISION BOARD!
Do you know what you want?
To stay focused on this all important question, we need new ways to capture our answers. Creating a vision board is a phenomenal way to get clear about what you really want.
This visual prompt will help keep you focused on your vision!
As the saying goes, a picture is worth a thousand words.

We have two offerings…
Both workshops will be held in the studios of
CFO Design @ 18 S. Maple Ave. in Basking Ridge, NJ

September 18th and September 25th 7:00 p.m. – 9:00 p.m.­­ $50 (snacks included)
-OR-
Saturday, October 13th 11:00 a.m. – 4:00 p.m. $60 (lunch included)

We will supply the materials, you supply the vision.

Workshop Leaders Artist & Founder of CFO Design, Caren Frost Olmsted Intuitive & Holistic Educator, Jennifer Urezzio

Call or email to reserve your spot!
info@cfodesign.com or 908.208.7516

A Taste of Heaven

The weather for this years Labor Day weekend was spectacular. An absolute dream! It was such a relaxing long weekend, it feels like we went away on vacation...but we never left Budd Lake!

Maura and Seth hosted their annual "Buddstock"...and this year took it to a whole new level. They sent out invites to family and friends, and people arrived all weekend long for camping and relaxation. This years Buddstock was at their new home, the farm on Lozier Road...so the festivities were spread out all over their acreage, in their large farm house, in the barn (aka Man Den, to some), around the large fire pit area, in the woods, etc. It was fun to watch people pitching tents on Saturday, finding just the right spot...some chose close to the house (esp. those with kids), and some ventured out to the sunny upper field behind the barn...and the young boys chose the camp site down in the woods.

Saturday we all just sat around in the sunshine and breeze, drinking various yummy things, knitting (me), laughing a LOT...letting the kids run amock, many of the men beginning a cut-throat Quates (sp?) tournament over near the barn, that would last all weekend. Vickie (a dear friend of Maura's, and a good friend of the family after all these years) gave all the children extensive pony rides all over the yard. She boards her two ponies at Maura's right now...talk about awesome. The kids had fun feeding the horses hay all weekend too...those poor animals probably were sick of it by Sunday...but they got a LOT of hugs and much petting. My children were in heaven.

Seth had also finished off the loft of the barn (Game Central), and the air hockey and foozeball kept that a hot spot for the kids, and many others as well. It was a totally mellow day, and the evening consisted of nothing more than many smores and impromtu music around the fire.

Oh, the Big Dipper was right over Maura's house all weekend, it looked like it was pouring down onto the roof. Isn't that amazing?

Early Sunday afternoon Vickie's daughter Cora (7 yrs. old?) had a impromtu lesson on her horse, and we were a very enthusiastic audience for her as she jumped her beautiful pony all over the yard. It was a bit surreal...I was in the sunroom on the couch with my knee elevated, sipping coffee, reading a wonderful book...and the next thing I know she's going over jumps that her mom's set up in the yard right outside of where I'm sitting. Everyone was cheering to her success...she had a fun crowd to perform for. Seriously AWESOME.

Aunt Mare and her significant-other, Dave, came on Sunday afternoon and joined us in our vigorously lazy lounging...and he graciously kept us supplied with the best made Cosmo's I've ever had. Maura's friend Athena came that day too, and she and all the women (and my Briana), and MY FATHER, went up into "fairy land" (that large secluded open patch of sunshiney field back behind the barn, next to the giant peppermint patch) and did a whole yoga class for/with them.

From where Mare, Shannon and I were sitting on our asses sucking down our cocktails it looked quite dreamy. LOL

We had a delicious hodge podge of foods for lunch...dinner...it was a continual graze of bbq'd meats, delish side dishes, chips and dips, cookies...you name it. After dinner we celebrated Shannon's b'day with some killer decadent cakes and large quantities of Hagen Daz (sp?) vanilla ice cream with hot fudge. Yum.

Later that night some of the guys from the jazz band that Meg and Shan sing with came and set up all their gear, and we had the most amazing night of jazz under the stars. We sat facing the musicians, in a semi circle around the giant fire, and just soaked it all up. It was so awesome to get to hear all my sisters (except for Erin who was away celebrating her anniversary, and didn't join us until Monday) take turns singing their favorite standards, my father joining in with his guitar to do his favorite bossa nova tunes... and the musicians were spectacular. My favorite was the horn guy (sorry, can't remember your name, Horn Guy!) who played the clarinet, and the sax. It was so soulful in the evening air...everyone bundled in sweat shirts and just chilling out.

That night all the kids were snug into their various tents by 9:30, they'd had a good wind-down all tucked in together on the couches in the family room watching Peter Pan. Too cute. Matt, Briana and Brandon had our new tent set up, and they both told us the next day how cozy it was to lay in the tent listening to all the music. Around 11:00 the jazz guys packed up all their stuff and joined us at the fire. Various drums were brought out...and things got a little tribal.

Monday morning was my favorite, people lounging around in their p.j.'s drinking coffee, reminicing about the night before, laughing about how old and sore and pooped we all felt...and how we didn't want the weekend to end yet. Seth (Maura's husband) and Matt cleaned the kitchen that morning while most of us were still snoozing...or pretending to snooze to prolong the delisciousness of hearing people starting to stir all around...the house was coming alive down below my perch in the guest room...it was heavenly. My hubby took on the role of Egg Master, and cooked eggs for anyone and everyone as they awoke and wandered into the kitchen. Matt and I had a wonderful and increasingly uproarious visit with Ian (Shan's husband) on the sunporch, talking about our upcoming trip to Disney with mounting excitement. (it might have been slightly due to the copious quantities of coffee we'd been drinking)

Sunday afternoon the children were gathered around the campfire pretending to "do music" themselves...with guitars and mic stands as their props...they took turns performing for one another, totally oblivious to us boring adults. It was super cute.

All the remaining adults were gathered in the dappled sunshine under the giant tree in the middle of the yard sharing cold drinks and conversation.



The icing on the cake of our perfect weekend was when Erin and Lou arrived and made a big announcement...they are having their first baby!
Baby Glynn/Palma is due in April, a few weeks before Meg's wedding.
Many screams, tears, hugs were exchanged...it was just incredible.
It was almost too much, I felt on the brink of a good sob for quite a while after such joyfulness for all of us.
It was such a gift.

The day lingered, as did most of the family...I don't think anyone was interested in heading back to the "real world." But true to form, all good things must come to an end.


Slowly, tents were taken down, bedding rolled up, cars packed, children were sent on trash patrol (Brandon used his large Tonka dump truck to collect anything he could find in the grass...and he was thrilled)...and gradually everyone trickled home .

One of my favorite artists, Sara Groves, says it in a way I only wish I could...


Every Minute



I am long on staying * I am slow to leave* Especially when it comes to you my friend * You have taught me to slow down * And to prop up my feet * It's the fine art of being who I am *


And I can't figure out * Why you want me around * I'm not the smartest person I have ever met * But somehow that doesn't matter * No it never really mattered to you at all



** And at the risk of wearing out my welcome * At the risk of self-discovery * I'll take every moment * Every minute that you'll give me **



And I can think of time when families all lived together * Four generations in one house * And the table was full of good food * And friends and neighbors * That's not how we like now *



Cause if you sit at home you're a loser * Couldn't you find anything better to do * Well no I couldn't think of one thing * I would rather waste my time on than sitting here with you **



And at the risk of wearing out my welcome * At the risk of self-discovery* I'll take every moment* And every minute that you'll give me **



And I wish all the people I love the most * Could gather in one place * And know each other and love each other well * And I wish we could all go camping * And lay beneath the stars * and have nothing to do and stories to tell *



We'd sit around the campfire * And we'd make each other laugh remembering when * You're the first one I'm inviting * Always know that you're invited my friend



** And at the risk of wearing out my welcome * At the risk of self-discovery * I'll take every moment * And every minute that you'll give me * Every moment and every minute that you'll give me...every moment and every minute that you'll give me...every minute.



Maura and Seth once again gifted our entire family, and many friends, with an opportunity to be together, to play together, and to rejoice together! We'd had fantastic group meals, lots and lots of music, the most idyllic setting of sunshine and breezes, plenty of peaceful relaxation, hearty doses of laughter, very content children, and news of a new miracle in our midst.

What more could anyone ask for?



My only thought at this point is...Thank You, Jesus.

Saturday, September 1, 2007

My sister...

So the kids and I were watching the live action Disney version of Rodgers and Hammerstein's Cinderella a few days ago. It stars Brandy, Jason Alexander (Seinfeld's "George"), Whoopi Goldberg, Whitney Houston, Bernadette Peters, etc. It is REALLY good! Anyway... about half way through it Briana turns to me and says, "Mama, Cinderella looks just like La La." (Michaela, if you didn't know, is nicknamed LaLa.) I said, "Oh reallly..." and I took a good look at Brandy, yes, BRANDY...with her gorgeous head full of waist length braids (a weave, of course)...and had to ask Bri, "Are you SURE she looks like LaLa?" "Oh yes..." she insisted. "Look at that precious face she makes, she's so beautiful...just like LaLa." Putting it like that, I had to concur that indeed, Michaela and Brandy are the spitting image of one another. Cute, huh?