My Life From Skratch

When Neurons Collide

2012-01-26T10:02:00.000-08:00

Do you ever wonder what your mind looks like from the inside? I don't mean the physiological parts of the brain, but if you could walk around inside your thoughts, what would they look like? I imagine my mind like a wide open space with clear blue skies and lots of plush green grass for running and never getting winded. Lately though I feel my thoughts are feathers blowing around in the wind open space and I can't quite catch them when I want to. These feathers keep me up when I should be sleeping; sometimes they lead me on a bunny trail from one incomplete thought to the next. I forget what I was about to do, or I experience that "I know I was on to something... but what was it?" kind of thought. Could it be the "pregnancy brain mushiness," or am I just wound too tightly?

I've always liked daydreaming... getting lost in that open space where anything can happen. I guess sometimes it's a way of not facing reality, escaping the things we don't want to deal with and replacing them with something more pleasant. Reading fiction is kind of like that too. I love getting lost in a book, temporarily not being the "responsible" adult I am suppose to be, and following someone else's journey through love or heroism.

Lots has happened this week, so I'll do a little summing up.

This week's "notables:"

Parenting is a lot more trial and error than I ever expected. Although, I had my own personal breakthrough with Elijah I think, yesterday. He doesn't respond to a lot of traditional shall we say, punishments. Sometimes he reminds me of a little adult. So I have found the easiest way to handle his misbehaviors is with natural consequences, and a calm understanding voice. I will admit to yelling, which gets everyone nowhere. So, yesterday Elijah decided to write on the bathroom wall with a pen. I didn't notice it right away, but when I did... I calmly asked him if he had written on the wall, he admitted it. Amazingly I didn't over-react, but told him he would clean it up. Guess what, he did with no problems! (note: mix baking soda with a little water to make a paste and scrub with an old toothbrush... I have found this to be the best method... and yes this is not his first offense).

Owen is turning three next Saturday! I can't believe he's not my baby anymore. We're planning a circus themed party for him... it will be lots of fun! He's so excited, anytime we talk about it being his birthday soon, he has to say, "My Circus Birthday!"

I hate for this to be a "notable," but I also can't go on without mentioning my Grandpa's passing last Sunday. It still doesn't seem real, and I'm not sure how I am suppose to feel about it. No one can really prepare you for this kind of thing. It is hardest seeing the pain my mom is going through and not being able to make her feel better. She has always been the "rock" of the family, the reliable, responsible and I hate that she has to deal with all the arrangements as she is mourning. A few things about my Grandpa...

He loved strawberry ice cream. He knew how to cook anything in the microwave. He was an amazing craftsman. He used to make intricate Christmas ornaments for us shaped like 3-D octagons. He also perfected many woodwork projects, my mom has some of the bookshelves that he made in her house, that are beautifully carved and built. He kept his "temple" healthy, going for walks every day and surprising lifting weights! He always cared about our health too, and our interests. When I wanted to take a correspondence course for writing Children's literature, he helped me pay for it. He also helped Martin and I purchase the house we now live in. The bank required our debt to income ratio to be lower than it was, meaning we had to pay off one of Martin's student loans. Yikes... Grandpa came through and covered what we couldn't. He always made sure the people he loved were taken care of. What surprised me most about him was he way he took care of my Grandma all of these years even though they have been divorced since my mom was thirteen. There are so many things I appreciate about him, and he will be missed.

Death sometimes makes us think of the way we should be living. I know one of the best things I can do is show gratitude in every way. It is a small thing that has a great power. For we are not simply flesh and bones, nerves, and neurons, but we are souls that need nourished. When I think about others as souls around me, it changes my heart and my perspective. I know that I am blessed beyond what I deserve and showing gratitude to others is a small way to bless their soul and to transform mine a little more each day. If I started my list of gratitude here, it would reach to the moon, but I do plan to tell some people how much they mean to me. It's important to say things out loud even when it feels awkward and corny.

I am probably most thankful for my loving hubby. He helps in so many ways. Especially now, when I am such a mess... I cry at least once a day because of the pregnancy hormones, and he just holds me and tells me it's going to be all right. We've worked out some teamwork with the housework too, so I don't feel so overwhelmed. He unloads the dishwasher before he goes to work most mornings, and I load it up during the day and run it every night. He tries to help with whatever else I need too. He is so wonderful, and I know God sent him to me! Thanks honey for putting up with me!

Let's Play!

2012-01-20T12:14:00.000-08:00

I love listening to the boys play together. At five and almost three, they are the best of friends! This is our second snow day, well yesterday wasn't declared a snow day by the school, but we took one anyway. So we have spent all day doing those things you just can't do on a regular day. We've painted, pretended, and played hard, which includes taking couch cushions out to make proper launching pads and so on.

Right now Owen is taking the lead in their pretend play, for a change. "Let's go to Disneyland," he says, "and see all of our friends." Elijah is wearing a backpack and acting like a puppy and Owen is holding on to the strap leading him around the living room. "Watch out for the mud puddle," he says... this just cracks me up... they even have pretend mud puddles in their world! They go on and on like this introducing new elements, heroes, and situations that require lots of noise.

I would love to take them to the "real" Disneyland, but I'm not sure how realistic that dream is right now, especially now that I am pregnant. Has anyone gone while being pregnant? If we did have the means to go, I think I would like going in late spring before I'm huge, but maybe we'll just wait for next year. I've had to say that before...ever since we moved back to North Idaho, I kept promising my husband we would run Bloomsday together. The same "maybe next year" keeps coming up. Although, I told him this year he should run it alone and the rest of us could come cheer him on. It's not like we'd really be able to run it together anyways. He'd want to run it competitively, hence leaving me in the dust. His work has it's own Gym on his floor, so he's been running on his lunch break! Way to go babe! How convenient is that!?

It is so funny to hear the boys change their voice for different characters. Now their playing "Stegosaurus" which is Owen's favorite dinosaur, or maybe the only dinosaur name he can remember. He keeps saying, "Be a nice Stegosaurus."

I have loved staying home and just letting the day unravel. Part of me wishes we did this everyday. I'm not the type who loves a lot of hustle and bustle and busyness. I was thinking about the last time I was pregnant... and Elijah was two-ish, that's what we did, stayed home all day everyday. We only had one car then, so we were stuck until daddy got home to take us around for errands. But I didn't mind, it was simple. Life always seems more simple in the past and difficult in the present. So I'm learning to embrace my present. Every morning before I get our of bed I try to pray for the day and focus on the kind of mom that I want to be that day. It's been helping.

Happy Snow Day everyone in the North!

p.s. I wish Elijah's snow suit was not still hanging up at his school! :(

Mountain of Change #2

2012-01-15T14:45:00.000-08:00

This was always one of my favorite "I Love Lucy" episodes. What a great way to tell your husband that you're going to have a baby. They are so sweet it almost makes me cry every time I watch it. I would have wanted to tell Martin in a fun creative way like this, but usually I am too impatient.
So, if you haven't guessed already, or heard otherwise from other sources... YES, we're having a baby, my baby and me... a third time around! Now I could tell you the long journey of how we came to this point. How it took a couple years or going back and forth on the idea, me giving up and him finally coming around, but who wants to hear all of that? All you want to know is we're having another baby, we're are both on the same page - thrilled to pieces about it- and this precious little addition should arrive sometime towards the end of August! Yay!!!

Much more to come and updates, but that is all for now... just wanted to share my good news!!!

note: favorite snack this week: "babybel" cheese with Pink Lady apples! delish!

Mountains of Change

2012-01-14T13:56:00.000-08:00

It's official, we've rejoined the current world... and are now connected to the Internet once again! It has been months and months since my last blog, and it feels like I am miles away from that place I was then. So much has happened, and we've been through mountains of change. I feel like I need to write 150 blogs just to catch up, but obviously that's not going to happen.

Mountain number ONE: The job search
Last summer Martin decided he was ready to look for something else, something with less stress and more money (everyone's ideal, right)? and a more normal schedule. The night shift was beginning to take it's toll on our family, and we really needed change. He had an interview back in July, but didn't get the job. He kept applying to different places every chance he could, and we were hopeful. I have to say though, that after two years of this crazy schedule...him sleeping during the day and us in two different world's at times, we made it work, and I am proud of us. Somehow we still made time for date night's and walks in the park. We've learned a lot about each other over this short detour in the journey of our life. We've had mornings together filled with trips to the library with Owen, and coffee, and spontaneous meanderings through used book stores or hidden treasure shops. In a way, I have loved it, not for it's craziness, but for what we made of it. Every hour spent with my best friend is a cherished one and I have fallen in love with him all over again. We've had to work hard at being strong for each other and doing what is necessary when the other can't. I think God has made me a better person, wife, and mother, through this experience mostly because I've had to depend on Him more than ever.
Months passed,the job search became here and there until something happened at work (which I won't go into detail) that gave him major motivation to get out of there. For those of you who don't know, he worked at a rehabilitation house for teenage boys. He was great at it, but many complicated scenarios arose that I didn't want him involved in. I also feel strongly that to truly heal from anything extreme or otherwise, rehabilitation needs to include The Spirit. Healing comes from the inside...out. But of course the State has different views on that as well.
Towards the end of November, he had two promising job possibilities, both with interviews. We prayed about it a lot as did many of our friends and family, and just before Christmas, he was offered a new job! Yay!!! It turned out to be perfect, exactly the kind of job he's been looking for since he graduated from college and guess what... it even pays All the bills!!!
Last week was his very first week as a database specialist for a software company... and he loves it! I'm actually having a hard time adjusting to his "regular" hours now. He leaves at 6:30 am, and gets home around 4:30. It feels strange to me, but I'll find my rhythm again. Another strange thing is to be able to pay all of our bills and have a little extra to save... I know that sounds silly, but we've never had that before. It has always been scrape the bottom of the barrel and pray for the rest. So, I want to say thank you, thank you, thank you, to those of you who prayed for our family (and those of you who helped us during some of those rough times)We are truly blessed!

*note: I guess I'll cover "Mountain Two" later.

Searching

2011-06-30T19:54:00.000-07:00

What is the worst thing that could happen?

Did you think of something? Something awful?

Your fears are most likely different from mine, but I think we all share certain needs. Some things are part of our very core, and the thought of losing them, well that is downright fearfull.

I had a dream the other night (note: if you're one of those people who hate hearing dreams, sorry)... that I couldn't remember who I was. I didn't know my own name. I didn't know where I was, or any of the other people around me, and worse than that, none of them knew me either. You might think, it's just a silly dream, but it really shook me.

I think that is one of the worst things that could happen... not THE worst, no having a soul and not knowing it's name, isn't really bad when compared to the true evils in life. It's only scary. I can't imagine not remembering the people I love, or vice versa.

It made me think, though. I guess I'm at that age where I'm constantly trying to figure things out. Who am I, really? Why am I here? What's God's purpose for me? Am I really worth anything at all? Would people notice if I went missing. What if I did wake up one day without concept of my identity, what then? Would I still search God out? Would my soul still feel Him breathing through me like the wind on a summer evening?

I felt Him tonight. I was sitting on my back porch, crying to myself sort of. Why I was crying, well, I don't even really know. Dinner didn't turn out well, and there was noodles an sauce all over the floor, among other things. I just felt overwhelmed I guess. Martin was starting the boys' baths, so I took a moment to center myself.

It was calm and beautiful out there, the sun doing it's dance on the tall grass, and the breeze- just right. I let my head sink into my knees and whispered, "Am I alone?" and then out of no where, a big gust of wind covered me, blew the tears in my face and my mouth curled up slightly, for I got my answer.

He knows me even when I don't know myself. And He'll know me til the end. I'm still searching. Maybe I always will be, but at least I'm not alone.

"The Mystery of The Blue Spots"

2011-06-24T14:25:00.000-07:00

I wish I had a picture to show you just how ridiculous my load of laundry looked yesterday when I went to take it out of the dryer (but of course the batteries in my camera are dead, and I just can't manage to remember that when I am at a place that sells batteries). As you might have guessed already, nearly every item of clothing was covered in blue spots.
That's curious, I thought. Surely I would have noticed this when I loaded the dryer. What could it be? I considered paint, since we had spent the afternoon finger painting, but that would have washed out (considering I use the best quality natural soap there is). :) Did someone leave a pen in their pocket? Nope. I'm pretty sure that would have come out too.
Elijah was helping sort through what had spots on it and what didn't. We got to the end of the load with only about five things not being covered in blue spots (one of them being Martin's batman sleep pants- he really is just a boy in a man's body)! Then Elijah said, "look mommy the whole dryer is blue!" When I bent down and looked into the dryer I saw the evidence... the only clue to this silly mishap... a lonely blue crayon wrapper waiting to be discovered.
Instantly it all became clear to me, as I'm sure it is coming to you now. The crayon must have melted due to the heat of the dryer, plastering everything with blue wax. I soaked and boosted, and washed two times. The spots faded, but there still there! Ughh! Most of the load was Elijah's clothes, many of his collared school shirts and khaki pants! Thank goodness for hand me downs!!!

We made a new rule: always check pockets for crayons, or whatever else might be waiting to ruin the laundry.

Words...

2011-06-22T14:24:00.000-07:00

Words...

are important
they are powerful
they encourage
they communicate
connect us to each other
they can uplift us
or bring us down
they empower or
discourage
they tell a story
leave impressions
make judgements
give hope
carry us
strengthen us
tear us down
so we can be built back stronger
overwhelm
they make history
they change us
they are part of our identity
they are felt deeply

Sometimes there are no words.

Heart and mind and soul feel so deeply that words are not enough.
Nothing can be said.
No words spoken can explain the feelings that overwhelm the heart and erupt into tears.

Those are important too.
Maybe even more important than the words.

The freedom to express those feelings, ahhh, that is openness, that is joy, that is genuine connection with someone.

When you don't need the words to communicate that's when you know you've got something.

LadyBug Park

2011-06-16T20:28:00.000-07:00

Today we collected ladybugs in baby food jars, read stories in a tent (in our living room), and made lots of roads for Elijah's cars to drive on.

The ladybug adventure wasn't quite what I had planned. Both of the boys love ladybugs, but we don't see too many over here for some reason. Last week, however, we saw hundreds down town. I'm not kidding- hundreds! We were strolling Sherman Avenue just for something to do (if you know the area, there's this little sitting park between some of the shops, with benches). So on the park benches were all these ladybugs, in the cracks, and on top of each other; they were everywhere. So I told the boys we would come back with jars and collect them for our roses -which are getting eaten and are also covered with aphids (ugh, just typing the name gives me chills- yuck those are some nasty little bugs!) Ladybugs are known to take care of nasty little situations such as these, so you see just how perfect my solution is? Free ladybugs!

Looking outside I knew it wouldn't be the pleasant stroll we had last week, with the sun in our faces, but now that school is out, my general response is: "why not?" So we went with our jars, walked the few blocks from the parking lot to the park with our teeth chattering. Luckily I had an extra coat in the back of the car for Owen to wear, or he would have frozen... for some reason daddy's often forget that kids still wear coats even when it's not snowing. Anyways, we got to the park are it appeared to be ladybug-free. No speckles of red covering the benches. But then I saw one, hiding just on the edge. "Elijah, I see one!" I hollered. He ran over and nearly squashed it trying to pick it up and get it in his jar, but it got there just the same. Then we saw another, and another in the bush just next to the bench. That little bush had several crawling on the underside of it's leaves. Now Elijah was excited. "Look, daddy," he said. "Mommy and me found a whole bunch!"

We spent the next twenty minutes scouring the place for scattered ladybugs playing a good game of hide-and-seek. We eventually came out with about fifteen ladybugs, well... fourteen and a half really since the once Owen picked up didn't quite make it.

They were so proud riding home with their jars full of ladybugs. When I asked Elijah if he wanted me to put his on the floor, he responded very quickly, "no! I want to keep them on my lap!" Owen kept unscrewing the lid to his jar and letting the ladybug crawl just to the top, them he'd put the lid back on. Once it got out and started crawling on his hand, I think it kind of freaked him out. "Mommy, it's on me, it's me!" he said.

All Fourteen and half of them are now safely living in my rose bushes, hopefully doing some good eating! I'm not sure if that will be enough to save them, but it was worth a try and it sure was a lot of fun for Lije and Owie!

The tent we put up on Monday. This really surprised them. Everyday we've read stories in there, which is my favorite part, but I think theirs is just going in there and being silly. They kick the side of it, bring flashlights in there and toys and cars. It's like there own little hide-out. But when it's story time, they listen. Mommy brings out the special stories, the ones that I keep on the top shelf that I don't want torn or stepped on, the classics, like, "The Five Chinese Brothers," "Where the Wild Things Are," and "Love You Forever." Okay, I guess I can't really call those "classics" per se, but they are in our house anyways. All three of those I remember vividly from my childhood, and they are cherished!

Note: I just wanted to point out that just because some of us are ready for the sun doesn't mean you can't still have a little fun!

My First Love

2011-06-06T20:11:00.000-07:00

Ten years ago I met a boy in a church. I didn't know then that we'd fall in love. I didn't even really know what real love was yet. I was guarded, but curious; he was like no one I had ever met. I was fifteen.
That summer after we met seemed to crawl by. My friends and I talked about him constantly, anticipating the next time we'd all see him (so they could help me figure out if he was into me or not). He was.
He lived in a different town, but we wrote letters... yes real letters, the kind you have to lick with your tongue and put in a metal box with a red flag. They're my favorite; there's just something about holding someone's letter in your hands, the same piece of paper that was recently in theirs. There's something romantic about it. The whole thing made me feel a little like we lived in a different time- you know watching the mail every day, hoping he had sent something. And when he did, I would read them over and over, memorizing every word, making a crease in the paper from folding it up, putting it in my pocket, and then taking it out again to do it all over.
He didn't write things like other boys had written to me. He was sweet, honest, and goofy in his own endearing way. We started a game in our letters that was sort of silly, but fun. We simply called it "the question game." I would ask something like, "If you were a dessert, what would you be and why?" Then I would have to answer my own question and wait for his response. It was a great way to get to know each other.

The months passed on. We saw each other very little. But that only made me think about him more. Sometimes we'd talk on the phone, but my dad didn't like the extra three hour long distance charges on the phone bill. I got a job so I could pay for them.
Almost a year after we had met, we became "an official couple." I like to say we were courting, I guess that's my old-fashioned nature coming out. We kept our long distance status for the next two years. We even went to separate colleges. But at last I realized I could live without him no longer, so I followed him across the country (for the first time in my life I found myself without a plan). I only knew that I loved him and that the long distance thing was horrible!
One month later, he proposed. I said yes!
We got married the next June. Saturday will be our sixth wedding anniversary!

I love you, my darling... you are my first love and forever, and we are incredibly blessed! I thank God every day that we found each other!!! Happy Anniversary!!!http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=1868353027124&set=a.1569336791905.76651.1190019556&type=1

Off to see the Baby!

2011-05-23T16:15:00.000-07:00

What a beautiful day! I can see real bumblebees outside my window doing their tedious job- amazing! Did you know, scientifically speaking bumblebees shouldn't be able to fly? Their wings are too small for their large fuzzy bodies, and yet here they are a miracle right in my very own yard!

I'm leaving in only a few short hours to see the newest little miracle that joined our family nearly three weeks ago... my nephew - Xavier! I'll be staying with my sister for nine whole days helping with the new baby, entertaining her two year old, and probably doing some cooking etc. I'm so excited about the trip!

It will be hard to be away from my own little ones, since I've never been away this long before. They don't quite understand that mommy is going my herself to visit aunt Jenny and cousins, but they will be in good hands. I know they have needed some daddy time, so this will be the perfect opportunity for just the boys to do some stuff together.

Today I have let a few things slide that I usually don't -all just because I'm going to miss them. Why not let Owen skip nap-time and soak in some extra sunshine? Vanilla pudding for lunch? okay. This morning I snuggled with my two year old baby while we watched sesame street. He actually wanted to sit on my lap! Why not...

Right now the two of them are playing outside (and no one is even screaming or snatching toys)! Elijah is showing Owen how to skip and teaching him about bugs. They really are the best of brothers. It always amazes me how they work so well together. Usually Elijah is the leader, being the oldest, but every once in a while Owen will decide they ought to do things his way. Earlier they were playing "follow the leader," and doing a pretty good job of it. At two and four, that's pretty impressive! They are both in the common phase of "watch me!" And I love that God has given me that as my job, simply to "watch" them.

I will miss my kind-hearted boys, their curiosity, their silliness, and their hugs.

Wish me luck...
I'm on my way!

"Swimsuit Blues"

2011-05-19T19:38:00.000-07:00

"I hate you swimsuit, oh yes I do; I hate you swimsuit, it's true!"

I am convinced that since the beginning of time, out of all the articles of clothing... women have struggled with the swimsuit most of all. What style, what color, are all the right parts covered, and then of course, does it make me look fat?
Since the age of twelve, I've been among the strugglers. I wasn't allowed to wear a two-piece then, but that wasn't the problem. I couldn't wait for my slim stick figure to turn curvy. Then, my blue velour one-piece with the yellow flowers made me feel young when I wanted to feel grown-up.

The next phase didn't come far behind- the phase of nothing looks good on me, I'll just cover it all up! (I may still be stuck in that phase... a little). I spent the majority of my teen years wearing what looked like a tank top and shorts to the beach. Which I don't regret in any way... in fact I'm glad I didn't have the nerve to wear an itty bitty bikini like some of my friends. Part of the swimwear problem is that inappropriate scrimps of material are passing off as accepted/expected beach attire.
I never could pull off the two-piece. Even the ones that were actually decent, well I couldn't bolster the confidence. I made two attempts. The first, I found at Target my freshmen year in college and dreamed about wearing it, and how if I just lost a few more pounds it would look perfect on me. It was sort of like a tube top- pink and black blocks of color. I convinced myself to buy it just before school let out for the summer. The only time I wore it was when I spent the day with my then boyfriend (who is now my hubby), climbing up to a waterfall. I wore shorts with it, but felt horribly self-conscience the entire time, and vowed to myself never to wear it again.

My second attempt was on my honey moon. I decided to buy my first ever bikini, hoping that only my new husband would see me in it. Those hopes were met, the two of us walked down to the hot tub at our hotel... and that is the only time that bikini ever saw the light of day (with a towel wrapped around most of my body).

So here we are again, summer is practically upon us. Swimsuits started glaring at us in January, oh the cruelty, now half of them are on clearance! I haven't bought one or been seen in one since the honey moon. Why bother? When we go to the beach I wear shorts or a sun dress, but there's that part of me that still wishes to find the perfect suit. One that hides all my bad parts and accentuates the good ones. (the few that are left after two babies).

I think I might just have a sickness- fear of swimsuits? if you don't already agree with me, you'll understand after this- So Target lured me in again. I was just minding my own business, buying the usual diapers when the swimsuits called out to me, "just take a look, a little gander... dream a little." "Why not?" I said to myself, oh yeah I also talk to myself, add that to the sickness list. I looked, I admired. And then on the clearance rack, she sang out to me, the perfect suit, or so I thought, a vintage fifties styled black and white polka-dotted one-piece! Half off... should I try it on? I did. The dim lighting hid most of my thunder-thighs, then it occurred to me, I could buy shorts to match! It was looking good. Okay, I'll do it. I bought the suit feeling very optimistic. It actually seemed like a good idea, I smiled all the way home about it, thinking about playing with the kids at the beach in my polka dots and little shorts with sailor stripes and anchors on them.

I returned the suit and shorts this morning. I know, what you're thinking- sickness. It's true. I tried them on when I got home. What was I thinking? It didn't look good on me. But what swimsuit does, or ever will. So I'm back to tanks, shorts and sun-dresses this summer. What about you? Are you crazy like me with insecurities so great you hide behind regular clothes? Or maybe we're all in this together, a little insecure here and there. We all want to look and feel great, so what's
the big deal?

Dear Mom, Thanks!

2011-05-06T17:30:00.000-07:00

"All that I am or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel mother." -Abraham Lincoln

Dear Mom,

Thank you for the little things. You are the one who taught me that a little thing can make a big difference, simply by your thoughtful example. You never pointed out, "this is how you make someone feel special," you just did it, and many many times I got to be on the receiving end of your "little things." Sometimes it was a card left in my doorway so I'd find it when I woke up. Other times it was remembering that skirt I'd pointed out and loved and surprising me with it. And sometimes it was choosing the kind of cheese I liked instead of the kind you like.

Thanks for treating me like me and no one else. This is an important one, and something that you understood better than most parents, I think. You are good at making me feel like an individual and always have been. Thank you for loving me for me.

Thanks for teaching me how to do my own laundry and make my own lunch, and for letting me stand on the chair in the kitchen so I could watch you make pancakes. When they are covered in little bubbles, that's when you flip 'em!

Thank you for listening. You probably didn't want to hear all that I bombarded you with over the years, but you sat and you listened. You kept my secrets and didn't make me feel silly about them.

Thanks for strawberry milk and donuts. (those were some of my favorite mornings- just us on our way to school).

Thank you for not giving up on yourself. When you graduated with your teaching degree, I knew that I could do anything too. I also know that you can do more than anything, sometimes I catch you doing the impossible.

Thank you for lots and lots of hugs. I've always been someone who needs them in abundance.

Thank you for teaching me to read, and for reading with me at home, and taking my education as a first priority. I love books because of you, and I love learning too.

Thank you for giving me chores and teaching me responsibility. I'll never forget "The confiscation drawer" where left out toys got sent to live a long and lonely life. Of course I had to keep asking you to say that big "c" word just so I could remember what the drawer was called.

Thank you for worrying about me -in the middle of the night when I coughed, or when I was out with friends too late, and when I moved far far away after a boy and you had to let me.

Thank you for taking the time to french-braid my hair, and for teaching me to paint my nails from left to right so I wouldn't smudge. "practice makes perfect!"

Thank you for your creativity. I don't think I've ever spent a day bored in my life. You taught me how to be resourceful, and to use everything for good -waste nothing whether it's an attitude or an apple.

Thank you for loving my daddy, and showing me how a wife should treat her husband.

Most of all, I am grateful for your faith, not that your faith is my faith, but that your God is my God and I know Him because of you. You led me to the foundation to build my life on and that is the greatest gift of all.

Naturally, I could never fit all I want to say, or all that I am grateful for to my angel mother, but it's easy to say I strive to be like her. When I found out I was going to be a mom five years ago, I looked to my mom for wisdom and the love that she is always so willing to give.

HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY, MOM! and to all other mothers everywhere- let's celebrate who we are and who we are striving to become!

This is a cute little story I found called: When God Created Mothers
http://www.goodreads.com/work/quotes/421248

"To Teach, is to Learn Twice"

2011-04-29T13:54:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure who said that quote, but it radiates with the truth of a great teacher. I have had the honor of many great teachers in my life, and as long as I'm breathing I will continue to be a student, forever learning from all of God's opportunities wherever they may be.

We all start out with our first teachers being our parents, whether they realize it or not. It is their job to teach us, enrich us with the knowledge they have come to acquire. Some parents get that, and some do not. I was blessed with parents that understood far beyond the norm of the possibilities of gifts to give their children. One I am most thankful for (beyond the truth of Christ's love) is the gift of reading, upon which all other forms of learning are built. They made this a high priority, and I was reading by the age of three (and haven't stopped since). I could write on and on about how wonderful they both really are, but that I will save for many other blogs. Today I am attempting to put honor where honor is due- to our teachers, and how could I do that without first acknowledging my wonderful teacher parents. (for those of you who don't know them, they both really are Teachers and have dedicated much of their lives to private Christian education).

Because of my parents, I knew from a very young age exactly how much hard work, dedication, and time went into being a teacher. Of course, when I was little... four, five, and six, it was fun to stay late after school playing hide and seek with my brother and sister and the other teacher's kids, or playing with all the toys that I didn't get to have all to myself during school hours, or creating projects with all of my mom's crafting supplies in her classroom. But as I got older, I started to notice the other side- how hard they worked, that the job never left them, and that they really cared about each and every student (and sometimes caring hurts). They wanted everyone to succeed. I suppose one of the hardest parts about being a teacher is seeing the enormous potential of a student, something great in them that is within their grasp, but they aren't willing to grab it and there is nothing more you can do.

My appreciation for teachers runs deep. There have been so many in my life. The ones that really stick out, are the ones who knew how to connect. Though, I am still thankful for my geometry teacher, she knew all about angles and degrees... thanks for the "B." But to truly leave an impact, teaching is more than just knowledge transfered from one individual to another. I believe great teachers use passion, they connect with their students and empower them by adding value to them.

I have to admit my education has been blessed, I had the advantage of growing up in a Christian School environment, where all of the teachers not only cared bout me, but about my soul, my eternal destiny. That is powerful. Through eighth grade, that's the kind of foundation I sunk my feet into, then public high school shook me up a bit. But honestly I say that in a good way. God and his perfect timing knew it was what I needed.

It was a whole new world of things I had never been exposed to. Most days my heart felt compassion for the teachers. It was amazing to me that day after day they could still teach a bunch of disrespectful, crude teenagers who didn't care about the history of the constitution, or The Classics. There were many days when I felt like standing up in the middle of class and yelling at the other students for their awful behavior. In addition, many days, if I had been the teacher I think those kids could have easily made me cry (which is one of the many reasons I wasn't cut out to be a teacher). So teachers of high schoolers, I am sending out a huge thank you for all that you put up with and I salute you for not letting go of your passion which our students so desperately need.

And to teachers of all ages, sizes, and subjects, you are appreciated. Our world would not be the same without you. The challenges you face and triumph over, that one student whose life you changed forever, and the gift of teaching that God has given to you is being celebrated!!!

Thank you! Thank you! teachers everywhere!!!

I am I allowed to name names? I wasn't going to because there's always a chance of leaving someone out, but in this case I feel I really must, for these people have impacted my life and I am forever grateful:

Mrs. Clark (1st grade)
Mrs. Johnson (5th &6th grades)
Mr. D (my dad- yep he was my teacher at some point)
Mrs. Dupey (my mom- yep her too!)
Mrs. Sayler (U.S. History)

Baby on the Way!

2011-04-26T19:31:00.000-07:00

My sister, Jenny, is due to have her second baby this friday. Which means of course I can't stop thinking about her and the baby and anything related. Her and her husband decided to torture us all by not finding out the sex of the baby! So I can't buy anything, really because she doesn't want everything to be yellow. I keep seeing things that could be perfect, like this adorable "little brother" onesie... but of course it could just as easily be the opposite of perfect. (However, my bets are all on them having a boy!!!) They have a 2 and a half year old daughter- May, who is going to be a wonderful big sister! I'm so excited and shaking with anticipation, and at the same time I am remembering just how much life changed going from one child to two.

Our boys are nearly two and half years apart, but I remember feeling like Elijah was still my little baby right up until Owen was born. Then he seemed huge and so grown up. The big brother role came so automatically to him that I was extremely grateful. However we did watch an extra lot of sesame street movies and pbs kids those first few months when I was "zombied out" on the couch nursing a newborn. My days were no longer just about Elijah, they were about balancing, giving up on things I didn't used to, and surviving, mostly.

At first it felt like we would never do anything. We were home bound day in and day out. But as the weeks passed, it got easier, routine set in, and all of a sudden I got my life back. And at the same time, my life had gone through a major make-over. We had morphed into a family of four. Martin and I were more of a team than ever with both of us having a little one to put in the car, or a job to do with one or the other, all day long.

Now Owen is a few months past two, and he's the one watching PBS and gabbing on about the new things he finds in his world. Soon he'll have a new baby cousin to love! The family is growing... I wish I could stretch myself far enough to be with them all. I will be going to stay with Jenny and her new addition to the family at the end of May, but by then baby may be nearly a month old! (since she is due today!!!)

My prayers are with her... she has chosen to have an at home birth with a midwife!!! Yay Jen, you rock! I know that she will be strong and I hope she has a wonderful delivery. Birth is such an amazing experience, especially if you are able to do it the way God intended- naturally! I wouldn't trade my natural birth with Owen for anything!

Good Luck, Jen! I am thinking of you and baby every minute!!!

An Easter sort of day

2011-04-23T18:55:00.000-07:00

Today was a good day. The weather co-operated for the big Easter egg hunt (...thank you God)! This was the first year that Owen actually participated in the egg hunting. Though he didn't seem to care that he only got one egg. There were hundreds of kids and I think he just loved being a part of the excitement in the air. For most of the time he looked around stunned, and the rest of the time he was trying to run of out of arms reach of mommy. Last year he wasn't walking yet, though he still enjoyed some treats, and the year before that he was only a couple months old. So, yay for Owen's first Egg hunt!

It finally felt like spring was going to "stick" this morning when we went outside. I let the boys run around the yard with their Easter baskets before we left for three reasons. First I wanted pictures of them before anyone grumped out, second they had plenty of energy, and thirdly, we had extra time to kill due to us all being so excited for this wonderful day.

They chased each other in the grass, and practiced their Caribou calls (I'm sure all of our neighbors loved that)! This came about from one of their favorite movies "The Polar Express." There's a part on the movie where thousands of Caribou are blocking the train tracks and the conductor pulls the engineer's beard making him screech and scare the Caribou. This is their favorite scene. They love imitating that screeching sound as loudly as they can!

After the hunt we went grocery shopping, then came home and had a picnic in our front yard. We all soaked up the sunshine hoping and wishing that it will stay forever!!! OF course, the boys didn't stay on the blanket long. After a few minutes, socks were thrown and bare feet were running through the prickly green grass and the air was full of high-pitched laughter. Martin stared falling asleep (since he'd been up all night working the night shift). I just looked at my family smiling. I wish every day could be like this. Carefree and sunny, how blessed I am.

I hope all of you have a wonderful Easter holiday. Count your blessings and remember the true reason we celebrate this weekend and everyday of our lives- Our risen Savior!!!

The Blessing

2011-04-20T19:20:00.000-07:00

My house is quiet and nearly clean, if you can ignore my counter clutter and little piles here and there. I do anyways. The laundry is done (of course it's not folded or put away- yuck- who wants to do that) and the dishwasher light says "clean." In my book that is beyond success for the day.

Sometimes I wonder why time exists, some say it's God's way of keeping everything from happening to us at once. However, there are moments when everything does happen at once and time has nothing to do with it. I think that's why I can enjoy these moments so much, these moments of nothingness. I can let out a satisfying "ahhhhhhh" because now, this quiet, this simplicity, is the exact opposite of my life just an hour ago. It is God's yin and yang. You can't enjoy your blessings if you are never more than a foot away from them.

Yes, children are a blessing from God. We all know that, everyone tells you that even before you have kids, and especially when you are pregnant. Oh yes, then, little old ladies at the grocery store rub your belly and tell you all about the blessing. God Himself includes that special phrase in the Book. And in our hearts we feel it the day they are born, and every day after that, I imagine until the day we die.

But sometimes, our blessings can feel heavy, overwhelming even, and we just need that extra time away from them to realize how special they are. You know what I'm talking about. Sometimes it's just a few moments to yourself, being in your world again where people speak in your language(... nobody says anything about poo). Maybe a little coffee break or visit with a girlfriend. These are the things we need in our life to keep us sane, to keep the balance, and to rejuvenate.

Then there's date night... a whole evening sometimes even an overnight stay where you get to fully engross yourself into the you, you used to be. (note: if this hasn't happened to you for a few months... it's time... you need to admit to yourself that you really are going crazy - a night wearing girly stuff- high heels- dangly earings.. will rock your world!) This is more of a warning than a note- GET OUT OF THE HOUSE...OTHER PEOPLE WILL WATCH YOUR KIDS! I'll even watch your kids, and I might not even know you. Believe me, it's good for everyone's health.

So, we experienced an entire weekend kid-free last weekend. And I have to tell you, something amazing and magical happens when you are away from them that long. First of all you remember that they aren't the only thing that defines you, but second of all, you really your love for them multiplies, something you thought impossible. How could you love them more?

Friday I was rushing around trying to get ready. I needed to pack there stuff, my stuff, shower and look decent,so I used the trick card and put in a movie. How else could I get it all done? Of course Owen lost interest in the first ten minutes and came wondering in to see what mommy was doing. "You changing your clothes, mommy?" "Yep" "Did you get pee pee in those pants?" "no," I said laughing. "oh, poo?" I laughed harder, and scooted him out of the room. Of course his main frame of reference would be one of those two things for needed to change clothes.

When we dropped them off at my parents house, they were ready to see us go. "See ya water," Owen said opening the door to let us out. "bye, bye!!!" They were ready for some Papa and Grandma time! We left easily, I'm not one to hover, but by the next morning, I couldn't help wonder about them. They're my babies after all.

The car was so .... what was it... something felt... oh yeah, quiet. There were no screams, squeals, or giggles. No food, toys, or punches being thrown. (okay my kids don't really throw punches, but they do try to grab whatever body part they can reach on each other in the car). It was different, it was the "ahhhh." But then came the "awwww... I miss 'em."

When Sunday came I was more than ready to see them. When we saw other kids and babies at the church we went to, I was wishing they were there. I knew they'd be disruptive, and bouncy, just like usual, but they're my disruptive bouncy kids, and I love them.

I almost always use the back door at my parents house, the front door seems to formal. This time as we climbed the porch steps I could feel my anticipation rise. I saw Owen first, through the glass door, sitting on the couch. He was wearing Papa's WSU hat, one of his favorite things to do. In that instant my heart was in two places at once. It scooped him up before my arms could reach him and wrapped him in the love that is continually and forever his. I shot across the room to claim my boys. They are wonderful. My love has multiplied. They are my blessings.

Being away from them did rejuvenate me, not because they are so difficult, but sometimes we need to be away from the things we love so we don't take them for granted. I had an overwhelming feeling that is hard to describe when I held them both in my arms again. I was so happy that they were mine, like... oh yeah, I get to do this great thing every day with these great kids... I get to be A MOM!

Backseat Chatter

2011-04-02T22:53:00.001-07:00

One of my favorite times to talk is in the car. I’m not sure exactly the reason, maybe it’s that my listener has no escape route, or that conversation just seems to develop because there is little else to do. (of course, my husband would much rather sing along with the radio and sees talking as a complete interruption, whereas to me, it is the exact opposite- the singing being the interruption). However, when you have kids, car rides move on to a whole new level.

Most of the time I still rather enjoy our many car trips. I like listening to my kids’ creativity, their questions, and wonderings, and most of all their giggles. At two and four, they have entered a whole new world of “brotherhood.” Part of it I saw coming long before now- Elijah conniving ideas for Owen to join in on. I see it everyday more and more how they fight with each other, compete, share, love, support, and stand up for one another. It’s a natural and beautiful thing. Sometimes it’s hard for me to just let them be. But I know the days are coming when they need to figure things out for themselves, fight their own fights and not have mom step in and decide the winner.

Most of the time their behavior is very laughable. I feel like the camera crews are going to jump out of the pantry any minute now- my life- the true reality show. Tonight on our way home, it was just the boys and I, I was telling Elijah that he had no school tomorrow because it’s spring break, so it’s going to be a “stay at home with mommy day.” Then Owen added, “and daddy” (he’s really been missing daddy lately).
“Well actually we are going to meet daddy at the tire store in the morning, so you will see him for a little bit,” I said.
“Why is daddy at the tire store?” Elijah asked.
“Well he’s not there right now, but he will be there in the morning.”
“Why?”
“He needs to get the snow tires off his car, and have the tire guys put regular tires on.”
“oh… are they going to keep the tires on the rims?”
At this question I paused for a millesecond… are you old enough to ask that? How do you know about rims? And then I remembered who I was married to, and obviously this would have come up in casual four year conversation between daddy and son.
“Yeah, I think they are going to keep the tires on the rims because both sets have their own rims.”
From there we talked about why we didn’t need snow tires anymore, and why mommy’s car didn’t need them either, and that daddy’s car was better… for some reason. I guess because daddy would be in it. And then the silliness started. Owen took off his shoe and threw it at Elijah who then threw it on the floor. “Owen threw his shoe at me!!!” “Don’t do that Wijah!” “That’s a time out Owen!” Elijah said in a silly voice. Then they started giving everyone and everything a “time out.” “Time out to the window!” Owen exclaimed. “Time out to the floor!” “Say time out to the road Owen, to the road!” Elijah was hysterical, for some reason this was their funniest game yet, and my backseat was full of rumbling giggles all the way home.

So, even though some of the time all I want to do is get out of the car and away from the screaming and crying and chaos, most of our car trips leave me feeling glad we were together. It’s a little piece of who we are packed into a little bitty space (although I must say it looks a whole lot bigger after cleaning out the half a foot of junk that used to be on the floor)! It’s one of the few places the kids are buckled down, forced to be still, giving us the opportunity to show them the world.

No More Pull-Ups!

2011-03-19T22:34:00.000-07:00

For along time it has felt like we would never be done buying diapers. It was just one of those things that you always need and when they go on sale you buy double because you know the next month you will still need them. Owen may still have a few months to go, but I think we are nearing the end of his diaper days, and Elijah is officially out of Pull-Ups!!! >yay! happy dance!!!!<
About two months ago I decided, okay it's time for this kid to stop costing us fifty cents a night just for peeing on something. But what approach to take? Martin suggested getting up at 3 or 4 to take him to the bathroom in the middle of the night... are you crazy?!!! No, I was not up for that. So I introduced a modified version. "Let's try just taking him to the bathroom before we go to bed." It took a few weeks to get the hang of it, on both sides. Sometimes I still forget, and sometimes he still cries.
He is such a deep sleeper that it really surprises him to be woken up. Most nights he is just a limp zombie using me as support to tramp to the bathroom. It's kinda cute actually. I've begun to enjoy going into his dark room, hearing those deep snores, seeing the shadow of a peaceful face... and after the job is done I get to do my favorite part- tucking him back in kissing him on the forehead, and saying a second "goodnight." Tonight his hair still smelled fresh and clean from his bath... how did he get so big?
For a while I was doing a lot of laundry. He would wake up in the early mornings wet and crying. But now after weeks of practice and a sticker chart the plan seems to be working perfectly... except on those nights when waking him up to go, escapes me. Our next milestone is for him to wake up on his own... that will truly mean potty trained freedom!
I had no idea this would take so long! This will make some of you laugh... While pregnant with him, I read lots and lots of parenting and baby magazines. I came across an article about potty training; the writer told how each of her three children had went through it differently and the last one just decided to do it on her own one day. The idea seemed easy. I knew at that point that all kids do things their own way at their own pace, for I am living proof of that (it took me the longest to learn everything from walking to how to ride a bike), so I thought this potty training thing would be more natural. I thought I was well prepared simply by reading a two-page article. Of course as he got closer to the appropriate age, I read books, asked his doctor, and made the usual efforts. But it sure has been a long long road to success.
And now that Owen is in the beginning stages of it, my insides are cringing, fearing I'm in for yet another long journey of messes, and laundry, and never quite being prepared enough.
But on the upside... trading buying Pull-Ups every month for taking Elijah to the potty at 10:30 every night- totally worth it!!!

Potato Soup

2011-03-15T12:25:00.000-07:00

Rainy and grey outside... very few ingredients in my ridge or pantry... hmmm... it's a potato soup day. The first time I remember having home made potato soup I was seven years old and we had traveled from New Mexico to Kalispel, Montana to stay with my grandparents. It was already dark and way past bedtime when we arrived, but my grandma had a hot pot of her special creamy homemade potato soup waiting for us. It was perfect, and better than any soup I had ever tasted. I wanted more... I wanted to know how she made it so white and delicious.
That was a rainy weekend too, but now I make my own potato soup. Little did I know then how easy it is, how few ingredients it takes, and just how perfectly more satifying those two facts add to the soup.

I start mine with butter... because everything is better with butter. I add some chopped onions, let them carmelize with some garlic! Mmmm it smells like heaven already. Then in goes the chicken stock, chopped potatoes, carrots, and sometimes celery, a little milk, basil maybe or whateer other herb I am feeling like... and then a few minutes later...Mmmm Mmmm good- homemade potato soup!

It makes me feel warm inside and out and reminds me of the simplicity of hospitality. Thanks Grandma!

My Boys- A Saturday

2011-03-12T21:38:00.000-08:00

I spent this saturday morning with a cuddly 4-yr-old and a not so cuddly 2-yr-old, on the couch. We watched cartoons... well I should say, they watched cartoons, I got in a few more winks while one snuggled under my blanket and the other bounced at my feet. They are so incredible.

Yesterday, for the first time in I don't know how long, they were both asleep at the same time in the midde of the afternoon, so Martin and I put in the Netflix I had been saving all week to watch with him. It took us back to times before kids, when we had no one to think about, but us. About twenty minutes into the movie, a sleepy-eyes Elijah came sauntering out. Without saying a word, he just smiled and climbed up onto the couch with us, giving me a hug. I looked at Martin and said, "Where did this boy come from? Do we really have a 4-yr-old?" Sometimes it just doesn't seem real that we are parents, that the boys are really ours.

I love how silly they are. They constantly make me laugh, and it's usually not on purpose because they just say things... unlike adults... they don't filter- it just comes out exactly as they think it up. Today Elijah said, "Mommy, sometimes when I yawn, my eyes get juicy!" Those observations are so priceless to me. I just smiled and tucked away that little moment for later.

I love that Owen copies EVERYTHING big brother does. Today they got in a fight over who could sing "Awesome God." "No I'm singing it," "No I'm singing it!" Singing it together would just be too easy! They are also at the age where anything having to do with potty words is hilarious. They make up words that rhyme with potty words and say them over and over making each other laugh. then they usually start the spitting games... not my favorite, though those sounds might beat out the potty words.

My Favorite is how loving they are. They make sure everyone gets hugged and kissed and everyone in the house knows that they are loved (no matter who it is). Sometimes Owen will mention randomly all the people and things that he loves. Last night in the car he specificaly said, "I love Papa, and Lijah loves Grandma!" It always melts my heart the most when they speak those words to me. "Wuv you mommy!," Owen will say and spread his arms out wide for me to hug him and scoop him up like the baby I am trying to keep him. And Elijah is also quick to share his "I love you's." It's his dark brown eyes that always make me want to freeze time when he says those words. I love my sweet boys... I'm going to be in good hands someday when they take care of me!!!

Canadian Geese...Really?

2011-03-03T10:50:00.000-08:00

A few months ago, when the first snow began to stick covering the ground in a thick white blanket, I noticed something spectacular on my daily route to take Elijah to school. I always take the back way, which is full of God's beauty everywhere I look- wide open spaces, fields, mountains splashed graceful and strong in the background. Why would anyone choose to take the highway? So there are many fields I pass along the way. The first morning, I only caught it out of the corner of my eye... this spectacular sight, but everyday after that I became obsessed with fascination, I had to drive by to see it. Huddled together, stretched out across a mile-long field were hundreds of Canadian Geese... hundreds! I couldn't believe it. What were they all doing here? Why did they come to this specific field?
It became part of our daily routine to look for the Geese. "Let's see if the geese are there today," I would tell the boys on our way. They would both bubble up with excitement, "ooh yeah, mommy, I think they're there!" And they were, consistently for weeks and weeks, this great amazing cluster of grey and black- such a contrast against the white frozen ground beneath them. I so desperately wanted to capture a picture, but that was impossible. Merely slowing down to get a longer glance at them caused the cars behind me to get impatient. There was no place to pull over either. So their beauty is captured only in my memory.
When the snow melted, the geese to began to disappear. The group got smaller and smaller, until they had gone altogether. But where? I wanted to know. I missed them, in a way. Then one Sunday afternoon, I saw them. They had claimed a new field, a much larger one, and acquired more friends as well. Their new stretch of land wasn't a flat field like before, this was a few miles of rolling greens. I could see puddles in places that looked more like small ponds, they liked that a lot. But still I wonder what makes them stick together, and gather in these huge groups? I never see one off by itself, they don't even fly alone... always together. The more I think about them, the more remarkable their design, the more I am reminded of a truly Great creator who plans everything beyond what we can understand or imagine. I also find myself envying them, just alittle. I know- I just got even weirder. I don't feel that "togetherness" in my life. They way they do everything together, supporting each other. When I see them flying in their "V" One doesn't lead for long, they switch places while keeping their formation, so that none of them are leading too long. Can you imagine if we worked together like geese? Maybe I've just been lonely too long, and I'm starting to see "community" everywhere... the one thing I miss the most.
Either way, I still obsessively look forward to seeing the Geese gathered together in their special place, and I still wonder in awe that they do. I still think about my creator... if He can design this simple bird to function in this way... surely I am much more capable to work together with others- to build and support- to love and to care, and to give my life for His purpose.

*note* I apologize for not having a picture!

A Snow Day

2011-03-02T21:54:00.000-08:00

Can I call in sick? That was the question floating in my head last Thursday morning. I woke up feeling like someone or something had taken oever my body and there was no way I was going to be functional that day. Thankfully Martin usually has thursdays off... I was hoping he'd take both boys to drop off Elijah, so I could get some rest. Just as we were finishing breakfast, my phone rang. It was my mom. No school- she told me. I never turn on the news to see the moving cancelations at the bottom of the screen, that is until she calls me. So it was officially a snow day, and I couldn't be more thankful. It was just what we needed. Martin played with the boys all day, and yes even though he was home, a mom is never really "off duty." I couldn't help watching them play outside and snapping pictures, along with taking numerous tissues to the back door for runny noses.
Almost a week later now, and I'm still not 100% better. My throat feels like fire every time I swallow, but at least my energy is back. Being a "sick mom" is the worst.

When Moms Breathe

2011-01-31T10:09:00.000-08:00

Something crazy and unpredictable happens to me everyday. It takes some getting used to. Most days I still fight it. Really? This can't be happening! I don't want to deal with messes and catastrophes every other minute... who does. But I'm learning to accept that it's just part of the job.
Some weeks, like last week, so much happened that I barely had a moment to absorb it, to sit down and say, "wow that was awful, but things are going to be okay." (Yes I talk to myself on a regular basis).
First it was a batch of chocolate chip cookies that someone just had to help with, which turned out edible, but... interesting. Then it was the blood-curdling scream that stopped my heart and rushed us to the urgent care for seven stitches in my four year olds forehead. *aaahhhhhh* still not fully recovered from that incident- that's not supposed to happen to my kid- I'm supposed to be able to keep him safe... right? Then it was on with our normal schedule... well there's really nothing normal about it. Changing Elijah's soaked through sheets - everyday... daddy zooming in and out and having his weekend in the middle of our week and sleeping when were playing. Then there was the grocery store incident, well I shouldn't really call it an incident because every grocery trip is like this... ya know one wants to pull the groceries out of the cart and throw them on the floor or eat the grocery list, the other wants to ride on the cart like its a rocket, there's screaming, pleas for this or that, and ultimately one of us leaves the store crying, last week there were two of us crying because I forgot to bring the right card in my wallet to purchase the groceries and had to put them on the account that has no money in it. (thankfully, my wonderful husband went back to the store later that day and the groceries charged to the right account).
Sometimes I wonder, when will I feel in control again? When will life slow down? But the truth is, that's not really what I want. This morning, Owen got up early as usual, long before the sun. "Watch Ice Skating Mommy?" he said. We laid on the couch. No, Ice Skating wasn't on. He was remembering yesterday when we'd watched it together. A few minutes passed with him chattering away... "Go give Wije Kiss?" (Wije is what he calls big brother). "No Lijah's sleeping still." I told him. Then the alarm went off. "Have Wogurt(yogurt), Mommy?" "Okay, let's have yogurt." We turned the lights on, soon his face was covered with vanilla yogurt and so were his hands. When Elijah got up he gave me a big hug and a kiss and with a smile said, "I love you mommy."
Okay, I don't care that I have to change diapers and sheets, wipe noses and bottoms and give up the predictability I once valued. These boys love so easily and so simply, it just warms my heart to look at them.

The Glamourous Life

2011-01-06T10:53:00.000-08:00

Last week, Owen found an unopened copy of Glamour magazine in my bedroom. I used to be a subscriber a few years ago, I guess I just never got around to opening that issue. Anyways, one day when both boys were taking their rest time, I decided to flip though it. There were almost a hundred fashion ideas on how to use things from your own closet and re-create them, the usual beauty tips, etc.
In that short time, I was transported back in time to when those things consumed most of my day. I used to paint my nails a new color every week, fix my hair in new creative ways, and look forward to planning a cute out fit each and every day.
Things are different now. I probably paint my nails twice a year. And lately, doing my hair consists of throwing on my favorite hat. I'm not saying I'm dis-satisfied, actually I think I've adapted quite well considering how important thosse things used to be. But then again, as I flipped through those colorful glossy pages, I thought, "Oh yeah, this stuff used to be fun."
Now that Owen is nearly two, I'm in sort of a transitional phase. I really could do some of those things, it just takes some planning. He's not completely dependant on me the way he used to be... I get regular showers now, and sleep. I guess I have to admit... he's really not a baby anymore. That's hard for me to say. It's hard for me to move on to the "next part" I guess. He talks now... he understands so much, and catches on to things that don't seem possible. I was watching the movie "the Holiday" (one of my favs) and he was playing in the living room with me. Well there's a scene where one of the characters says, "Oh My Gosh!" so what do you think my almost two year old said for the next five minutes? yep. It was funny and a little disturbing a the same time. I guess I can't watch non-kid movies when he's awake anymore.
I do understand my reality... life isn't ever going to be "glamourous," but that doesn't mean it can't be fun.
Guess what? I painted my nails last night- "purple rain" oh yeah... I'm ready for fun!

From Book To Book!

2010-12-16T10:43:00.000-08:00

Last year took me on many adventures… and thankfully not all of them happened to me in “real life.” Though there were natural challenges and struggles of having a husband working the nightshift, I chose to look for distractions and positivity wherever I could. I found just that in books. I let myself get lost in reading, become addicted in nearly a true sense on the word. As soon as I’d finished one book I’d become hungry for something new to occupy that empty space left behind.
Right before the New Year, I had decided that I needed to read more; well I just wanted to read more. With the time then available… a goal was set in place: I would read a least one new book every month. This was a good goal, not too overwhelming; it felt attainable -even compared with most years in which I read only four books, maybe. I knew this goal was my destiny when I received what would become the first book on my list as a Christmas present from a very dear friend (thanks Adrienne- Sisterchicks-Say Ooh La La! Started my year and my reading goal off with powerful positivity and encouragement)! And that was it, after reading through that first book, I went right on to another one. Soon I was searching… I had to fill the time right before bed with luxurious fiction (you will notice on the booklist below, that I read only one non-fiction book this year, which was also incredible, but there’s nothing like a good dose of fiction to make you forget all about the mundane problems in your own life).
Somewhere in the summer, I surpassed what would have been the whole year’s worth of books, had I been sticking with one per month! I can’t explain the drive, the thrill of adventure I allowed myself to indulge in. Sailing from one book to the next like a ship on oceans made with words of velvet. What a ride it has been!
So, thank you Nightshift… for this habit has been a long time coming; it may have never happened with Martin home continuing our old routine. Though now he is home some nights, and guess what… I’m not reading quite so much. But the trade off is a good one. I think I’ll keep my goal at one book per month, especially now that I have my husband back for the most part.
And now for the actual list… I want you to know that I’m not bragging, but I’m simply proud of myself for accomplishing a goal, stomping my own expectations into the ground and rising above what I truly thought myself capable of. You will notice certain trends as you read through the list. I will read anything by Nicholas Sparks, for instance. Also I re-read the Twilight Saga not just because I love it so much, but it’s a personal thing that whenever a movie comes out I like to freshen myself up with the book right beforehand. It’s just so much more enjoyable and rewarding that way. I’ve also always been curious about “those Harry Potter books.” Everyone who reads them always swears by them. If there was ever any year I was going to accomplish all seven of them this was going to be the year… and I did it I really did it, and to top it all off the first part of Deathly Hallows came out in theatres just two months after I had completed the final installment!
I guess, the only other obvious trend would be that I have sort of a thing for romance. And not so obvious…mystery.
I hope you enjoy seeing what I’ve read this year. Maybe it will inspire you to break open a new adventure, romance, or mystery. I can recommend everything on this list, though you may want to inquire for specifics… (I would have written a book review for each title, but I thought that would have made for MUCH too long a blog seeing how this one is fairly lengthy as it is). However, I will make two short recommendations excluding the Twilight Saga, and Harry Potter because we all know those get enough hype of their own. So in saying that I have to tell you I absolutely loved “The Wedding,” and not for the usual reasons. I wish I could convince m dad to read it, or every man for that matter. So here’s the scoop: man and wife have been married thirty years. It’s been a good, functional marriage, but he’s not romantic. The question is, can a man change? I won’t say more than that in fear of ruining anything (hate it when people do that). If you read nothing else on this list, read that one… or “The Choice.” And please, please, give me some new recommendations… for I am running dry.

Books I’ve Read This Year (2010)

1 SISTERCHICKS: Say Ooh La La! (Robin Jones Gunn)

2--P.S. I Love You (Cecilia Ahern)

3-Dear John (Nicholas Sparks)

4-The Time Traveler’s Wife (Audrey Niffenegger)

5-Twilight (reread) (Stepehenie Meyer)

6-New Moon (reread) (Stephenie Meyer)

7-The Choice (Nicholas Sparks)

8-Eclipse (reread) (Stephanie Meyer)

9-The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner (Stephanie Meyer)

10-Breaking Dawn (Stephanie Meyer)

11-Harry Potter and the sorcerer’s stone (J.K. Rowlings)

12-Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (J.K. Rowlings)

13-Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (J.K. Rowlings)

14-Bird By Bird (Anne Lamott)

15- The Notebook (Nicholas Sparks)

16- Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (J.K. Rowlings)

17. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (J.K. Rowlings)

18. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (J.K Rowlings)

19. The Wedding (Nicholas Sparks)

20. Towards Zero (Agatha Christie)

21. Emma (Jane Austen)

The Power of Words

2010-12-01T13:41:00.000-08:00

I'm a person who loves meaningful words, you know, quotes... catchy phrases... words that ring true and apply to my life directly in some way. Finding these words in unexpected places makes my day: on license plates (things like LVNLIFE) on window displays, especially now (spread the joy), and today on my coffee sleeve (Stories are gifts. Share yours). That is so true; some of the stories I have been told have been the best gifts. Which goes to show that words are powerful and how you express them is important. And Bonus: they are FREE!
I wish that I had the means to travel the world and share meaningful words with everyone, not just the silly little things that someone can print on a coffee sleeve, even though for me those little things help, but what if positivity and hope could be spread to everyone? What if the whole world smiled at the same time? I think we'd be able to feel it. Mmmm how wonderful that would be... impossible, but wonderful. Maybe heaven will be like that, like one huge heart warming smile, bursting with light and joy and love.
It helps to think about positive things, and to remember that this isn't the end. My story is only just beginning. I need to do better. Better at what? Well, I have a long list, but every time I see simple meaningful words I'm convicted just a tad. They prick my heart and I have to say, oh yeah... life is good...I do have hope... I do have joy... I am blessed... I am chosen... I am loved. If it stopped there it wouldn't mean much, but like I said i am trying to do better. those reminders tell me to encourage others in the same way. there are so many people in my life that need to hear me say those things: I love you, you bring me joy, you strengthen my hope, you are special, you make my life better, your story has changed me.
Sometimes things go unsaid. We overestimate how good we are at communicating. Or maybe it just sounds too cheesy to say those kinds of things out loud. But what if they never get said?
I really believe words can change the world. Because after all, if you have to choose between your belly and your soul getting fed, the latter will always be more important.
Tell someone today what they really mean to you, and take every opportunity to encourage.

"The right word spoken at the right time is as beautiful as gold apples in a silver bowl." Proverbs 25:11 (New Century Version)

A Simple Gift

2010-11-21T15:04:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting in my mom's living room watching the snow gently fall, giving the great maple tree a layer of white dust. It's the kind of scene you see in pictures and Christmas cards. In the fore-ground there is the great snowy tree, and in the back-ground snow-covered rooftops, street lamps,and parked cars just waiting. Everything is still. No one wants to move, to be out in this cold beauty. I love everything about it. The way the snow falls like magic from the heavens, the way it makes me feel like snuggling up with a blanket... in all it's simplicity it reminds me of my creator. I am in awe. I have no words to describe the way I feel when I see a mountain covered in fresh snow with the sun glistening amongst the tree-tops. It's overwhelming, powerful, majestic to live where we live to see what we see.
My parents' house is surrounded by trees; my dad often calls it a tree house. And it feels that way from the inside because out every window there are leaves and branches..well now most of the leaves have fallen, only a few are hanging on for dear life. The green of summer has been replaced by winter's white. Both bring comfort in different ways, but for many the white represents peace and a season of coziness.
This house has always brought me comfort no matter the season. My family moved into it when I was nine, and I envision my parents growing old here. It will always be the place I come back to. Even when no one is here, I can feel their presence. I look around and see a hundred memories. I feel my mother's love in all the little things she has left there... things she's placed on the walls, put out on the coffee table. I know, I'm a little overly sentimental, but I try to see that as a strength. I also know that not everyone has a place like this where years of memories will always be preserved, or even a place where loved ones gather just to be.
I had an experience last week that just broke my heart. I saw the reality of the times we are living in at a food bank. The room was packed, you couldn't move. Everyone is in need, and it's not getting any better. I don't know how or when things will change, but I do know every little bit helps, and we are all in this together. Give what you have, and don't be afraid to accept help from others either. Our communities need love now more than ever... isn't that all anyone is looking for? You, me... we all want to be accepted for who we are right now. We want to be loved despite our short comings and defects whether we have anything to give or we are broken and at the end of our road. People are people.
Now as I see the snow silently falling out my parent's front window I am more grateful than I have ever been. I have a place, I am loved. I am filled again so that maybe I can go out and share this gift with others. I don't have money, but I have eyes, and ears, and a heart: to see, hear, and love someone. What do you have to give?

Cake and a Good Movie

2010-11-07T15:26:00.000-08:00

First of all, I have to apoligize for my last blog; it was a little whiny. So to all of you who read it, thanks for bearing with me. And of course, I did have a wonderful birthday, despite my negative expectations.
Yesterday my mom took me out shopping and bought me a lovely birthday sweater dress and matching accessories! Thanks mom, you are amazing! Oh yeah, and the coffee lifted my day too!
Today I got to wear the planned birthday outfit, which looked mostly good, except I'm not completely satisfied with the way it accetuated my middle. For some reason I just can't seem to get those rolls to go away... any ways...
After church, I spent the day with my family. We had lunch together. Martin surprised me with a special desert- some fancy chocolate layered slice of heaven, complete with just the right amount of whipped cream and chocolate shavings to make it have that "I'm special appeal." He popped a candle in it and Elijah started the "happy birthday" song. That was one of my favorite parts... and when Elijah said, daddy's your friend, and my daddy."
My next surprise was a beautiful ivory coat from Martin. I'd tried it on about a month ago, and he remembered! It's so soft and the inside is like satin. Of course, this means I have to get rid of my red one that I bought last winter, but that's all right. It's actually a good thing because last winter I was fifteen pounds heavier, so now that coat doesn't quite fit right. Yay! Hopefully I can maintain my current weight. that's a dangerous staement heading into the holiday season.
After Martin presented the coat, we had to take a walk to really get a feel for it, so my parents watched the boys and we went out for coffee. It's been a wonderful day.
Now I'm twenty-five... does that mean I have to start acting like an adult? Like I know what I'm doing? ...because I don't. I still feel like the little girl excited for her birthday which always promises cake and a good movie.

Thanks everyone for the birthday wishes. I am so blessed and so loved.

A Bummed Birthday Weekend

2010-11-05T11:13:00.000-07:00

It's friday, yay, right? I mean that's probably what you are thinking. I however, have a long and most likely boring, lonely weekend ahead of me. Martin is working the graveyard shift all weekend long, and to make matters worse, it's my birthday weekend. I know, I know, I'm a grown up. I'm not suppose to care that it's my birthday and all of that. But I do. I'm still a kid at heart who looks forward to it all year in hopes that something special will happen. Maybe there will be a solar eclipse at exactly the moment that I wasw born and they'll name it after me, you know just something simple like that.
So I'm a little bummed, and there's no one to blame. That is the absolute worst. It would be so much easier if I could say, someone did this on purpose just so I would have a lousy birthday! But no one did, and it probably won't be lousy any ways. Even though Martin has to work, he'll still probably do something for me, ya know because he loves me and all that mushy kind of stuff. He'll probably look at me with those sparkly green eyes of his, and tell me something lovely that will make my day and surprise me with something I never expected.
I already kind of ruined a birthday gift he had planned for me, well it wasn't really my fault. As some of you might know, "Beauty and the Beast" was recently released. It happens to be my favorite Disney movie of all time. So when I saw that it was coming out, I went a little crazy, he would in no way miss that this is what I wanted for my birthday. Even Elijah got the message and reminded him when we saw it at Walmart. I did however realize after I had made this big deal about wanting the movie, that my sister would know even without any mention of it that I would want it. She did, and even sent it to me early for my birthday. Well, Martin had also already bought for me... oops. So we returned the one he bought, which I feel a little responsible for, since he might not have gotten it had I not made such a big del about it.
Anyways... I've decided that I'm going to save it to watch all by myself for my birthday. After the boys are asleep I'll put it in and sit back.
Happy Birthday-Me!

I Miss Harry

2010-10-18T10:26:00.000-07:00

I miss Harry. You could say we got acquainted in the hospital waiting room. That was a long night last May… anticipating the birth of my second niece, perfect for meeting a new friend. I was questionable about him at first; I didn’t think we’d hit it off. But everybody kept saying you have to meet Harry, Harry is wonderful. I gave in. They were right. Quite honestly, Harry is more than wonderful. Once I got to know him, I couldn’t get enough. We had our differences, but I found him fascinating. With each encounter it got better and better; he became more interesting, more exhilarating, and I began to learn a little more about myself along the way.
I saw him on and off all summer, sneaking in meetings whenever possible. In mid July, our meetings hit a wall. He wasn’t available, not for me anyway. I had to see him. I was desperate. After a dull weekend without him, I called my brother, practically begging him to hook us up. He came through. Pheww! Together again, and this time I knew we’d be seeing even more of each other, James had promised me that.
Harry taught me a lot over the summer. He taught me the true meaning of friendship, he showed me what it really means to be brave, loyal, and kind, but most of all, he taught me that love conquers all. I wish there was something I could give back to him. And now that it’s over, well, I find myself wanting to go back to the beginning, wanting to start all over again just so I can see him.
I miss Harry. Even though he’s a wizard who lives in a world that doesn’t exist, I miss him. Our last days spent together, I savored, not wanting it to end. Every moment I took slowly. It was like eating a very rich, rare, and perfect dessert, every bite enjoyed with reverence knowing it would soon be gone.
I guess all there is left to say is, thank you, Harry. Thank you Harry Potter for a wonderful summer. I may be seeing you again soon.

Note: Thank you James, for letting me borrow your Harry Potter collection when the library failed me and I was left in dire need, and I further thank you for buying me books five and six! Awesome!

Note 2: To all fellow Harry Potter fans… you know exactly what I’m talking about right? And for those of you who have not been introduced to Harry, well I suggest you meet him soon. You won’t regret it.

"Hot" Husbands!

2010-10-16T11:57:00.000-07:00

The Husband Hot-List

These things don’t usually happen on the same day, and of course there are days and weeks when none of these things happen. But watching my husband be a better man than he thinks he is through self-less acts, makes him the most attractive man I know.

So here it goes, my list of random things I find appealing in a man. Of course I love it when I find my man doing these things, but I also stop and admire other dads and husbands who are trying just as hard as mine to be the best they can be for their families.

Husbands who….

… Take their kids to the library… Are Hot!
…load and unload the dishwasher (not do to nagging or prodding, but from their own desire)… Are Hot!
…make breakfast…lunch…dinner… or something edible and prepared…Are Hot!
…know how to push around the vacuum, mop, or broom…Are Hot! This is one of my favorites, especially when the view is so appealing!
…remember your favorite drink exactly the way you like it and bring it to you on a day when you need it most…Are Hot!
…take the kids to the grocery store, park, or anywhere away from you so you can have some peace of mind…Are Hot!
…Show they’ve actually heard what you’ve said by their actions…Are Hot!
-“if you have to look at one more pile of dirty laundry, you just might slit your wrists!” –mysteriously the laundry gets washed, dried, folded and mostly put away, though in all the wrong places. But who are you to complain… at least you didn’t have to slit your wrists!
…read a book just to please you, because you’re reading it and want to have in-depth conversations about it …Are Hot!
…stand behind you no matter what…Are Hot!
-when you decide to start working out again, they cheer you on and even buy you a new outfit that you look great in
-when you decide to landscape the front yard, they work beside you, digging, moving the heavy stuff and, and planting flowers you picked out together
- even on the tougher decisions like staying home, or going into the work field, he acts like your partner, your teammate, and you feel confident that together you are doing right
…Love Jesus… Are Hot!
-when you know his heart’s motivation’s are striving to please God there is nothing in the world more attractive!

So here’s a shout out to all the “Hot” husbands out there! If you’ve got one of them, show them lots of love and let them know how wonderful they are!

(There are many more things that make my honey Hot, these are just ten that came to mind because I have seen and appreciated most of them lately. Yay! My hubby’s hot)!

Getting Back To Priorities

2010-10-12T11:30:00.000-07:00

As a mom, there are many things I once valued that now I rarely think about. Priorities have taken a major revamp… mostly for the good I have to say. But there are those things, little things that I need back in my life… looking in the mirror, for instance before leaving the house.

Last week after picking Elijah up from pre-school, I decided I would be brave and attempt a post office stop with both boys in tow. I only had one envelope to mail and some stamps to pick up, but of course there was a line. I tried pre-occupying Elijah with letter games “how many letter A’s can you find,” etc. It worked fairly well, but he was still his fidgety, four-year- old self.

When it was finally our turn, Elijah handed our special envelope up on to the counter to be mailed, and then stepped behind me to do some more fidgeting. What I didn’t expect was a poke on my bottom. Yes… my four year old was poking me! I turned around trying to be discreet and whispered as sternly as I could for him to stop. As soon as I turned back to the counter, he did it again. “Elijah! Stop it!” I said. I figured he was trying to poke the button on my pants, but I couldn’t understand why that would be funny, he was giggling after all. Oh well, kids do silly unexplainable things all the time, though this was a little inappropriate in my opinion, I didn’t want to make a big deal in front of a line of people.

When we got out to the car he had a talk about poking, and I thought that was the end of it. Well, it was the end for him, but when I got home I realized that I should have been a lot more embarrassed at the post office… and at Elijah’s pre-school, and everywhere else I had been that morning. I hadn’t looked in the mirror before walking out the door, (surprise, surprise). If I had looked in the mirror, I would have noticed the large hole on the backside of my pants and the bright blue panties showing through. But I didn’t. Now I know, some priorities aren’t worth sacrificing.

Life is Kinda Like Chess (but not really)

2010-09-30T11:23:00.000-07:00

This morning I found myself playing a game of chess with my husband in an “off the beaten path” coffee shop. We weren’t planning on going there… just like we never plan to end up at the library or the park or any of the random places we find ourselves. We’re in some kind of strange middle life that feels awkward and well, it is what it is- unprecedented. With Elijah going to preschool half days in Coeur d ‘Alene (a 20 minute drive from our home in Post Falls), Martin working a schedule that is different everyday, and Owen… well he’s now the unstoppable king of the house ever since he learned of his powers to ransack everything in his path at full speed. I’m not trying to complain, in fact, I see lots of new possibilities right around the corner. I’m just still at that place when change is fresh and complicated. I don’t know exactly how to function, how to manage what I used to manage, and well, it’s just a little bit frustrating.

So, as I sat across from the man I love, strategizing just how to capture his king, I realized that life is a little like chess. Our best defense against a world of problems is to be proactive, to see the possibilities and be one step ahead. But what about the times when we’re one or two steps behind? When we don’t realize the opponent’s bishop is about to take out our knight, or even worse our own king? It happens. I guess that’s when I’m glad that life isn’t about winning or having everything figured out. That’s when the true King steps in overlooking our mistakes and giving us grace that we never deserve. When the world would say it’s finished, God says it is only the beginning. That is what gives me hope. He can use my mistakes for something great. He can take me to a coffee shop off the beaten path on a Tuesday morning and give me clarity when I was feeling that all may be lost.

Breaking Down and Building Up

2010-09-24T15:24:00.001-07:00

If your heart were a home, complete with rooms of all sizes, what room would hold your emotions? Would it be a room with wide-open space that welcomed others in, like a living room? Or would it be a medium sized bedroom, more intimate, yet also an easy space for sharing? I think most of us keep our emotions in the smallest place possible, like the attic or linen closet, at least I know this has been true for me. But why are we so afraid to show what is really going on inside us? Why do we hold back overwhelming emotions?
Denial is easier.
Is it really that simple? We are so busy that we don’t want to stop and deal with things like feeling mournful, depressed, touched, convicted, or sometimes even joy. The tangible, necessary things always take priority. We’re also concerned with other’s reactions. What will _____ think if I just break down, right here, right now? But what if something life changing is about to happen in that little house- your heart- and you turn off the power? You keep your despair locked in the closet where no one will ever find it.
I guess at first, it gets worse. Then it gets a lot worse, and you are in such a pit of despair that you never want to come out of the attic, or out from under the kitchen sink, or wherever it is that you have managed to put the “real” you, and you begin to live this miserable double life. Your face might appear happy, but inside- your home is falling apart with no hopes of repair.
What we often fail to realize is that allowing ourselves to reach that place of mourning is a good thing. This is the starting point of growth. When you understand that you are pitiful, inadequate…lost, well that’s when the work can begin. Nothing can be done if nothing “needs” done.
I find myself at this point constantly, maybe it’s just been a rough year, or maybe I’m just a convicted emotional person, either way I know that I am nothing on my own. I am helpless, pathetic, worthless. I go into my closet, overwhelmed with my life, and I cry, and I cry, and I cry until God gives me the strength to face what I need to. I’m still not great at letting others in. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to keep my emotions in the “living room,” but maybe someday I’ll move into a small bedroom with a little window.

“Blessed are they who mourn for they will be comforted” Matthew 5:3

Another translation says:

“Those who are sad now are happy, because God will comfort them.”

Happy Fourth Birthday, Elijah!

2010-09-23T11:12:00.000-07:00

On September 25th my Elijah will be four...FOUR! I just can't believe the time has gone so fast! Ironically, that exact day was the day Martin proposed to me in 2004, two years before Elijah was born. It seems not much time has passed since then, when we'd spend countless hours walking the park in York, Nebraska, but at the same time it feels worlds away. Now I know things I never planned on knowing like the theme songs to all of the most prominant super heroes, and the names of building trucks like loaders and cherry pickers, dump trucks and cement mixers, which play an active part in our daily lives.
It doesn't seem like I should have a four-year-old. But then again it seems completely impossible not to have him. I love listening to him when he doesn't think I'm listening, like in the car. He talks to himself, relives conversations that we've had or that he's heard in school with character voices and all kinds of drama. Yesterday, he was saying, "No, no Hannah!" in the back seat of the car. I asked who Hannah was. He told me she was a girl at school, but that she was in a different class. This morning I knew exactly who Hannah was when I heard a teacher scolding her and telling her to get back in line. They really are listening ALL THE TIME!
Many days after school i let him change into "play clothes," clothes that aren't school uniform. He has taken on this tendancy, probably from me, that his clothes have to match. He refused to wear his favorite "number twelve" pants because we couldn't find the "number twelve" shirt. Then he saw one of his jumpsuits, you know those sweats that have matching sweat tops... they look like little running suits, any ways... he was thrilled when he discovered that he found something that matched. "I'll wear these, mom!" he exclaimed excitedly and bounced on his bed to pull them on.
He's always making me laugh about something... many times when I shouldn't be laughing. Its a known fact that laughing when you aren't suppose to is ten times more fun than when its expected, like in church, or in my case when I'm trying to be stern and disciplining my child. He's had so many potty accidents that it has become routine to go in the bathroom and get him cleaned up. Its incredibly hard not to giggle when he starts singing while I'm trying to get him cleaned up, or when he turns to me like nothing is going on and says "I love you," or something silly.
Saturday, that silly boy will hold up four fingers instead of three when you ask him his age, and there will be four candles on his DUMP TRUCK cake, but part of me will always see that baby, my first that was born on the 25th of September.

Changes

2010-09-21T11:00:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting in the car listening to Owen's deep breathing as he sleeps comfotably clutching his stuffed animal buddies in his car seat. Today is so unlike the past week; there are actually fluffy cumulus nimbus clouds in the foreground of a beautiful bright blue sky. What a contrast and a gift compared to the last grey and rainy days.
I just dropped Martin off at his new job. Yes, he started working at a boys rehabilitation home last week! We're are both excited about it, not just because he is now out of a place that caused him much stress, but also for the potential here to really play a part in changing young boys lives. It seems it was meant to be. I'm looking forward to hearing all about what goes on there and I know he is going to enjoy it.
With all of the recent changes to our schedule, I'm just trying to hang on and keep going. It's a little crazy I have to admit, getting out the door for pre-school in the morning, then coming back a few hours later (usually with a cranky toddler), and also with MArtin's new unsettled schedule. We're staying afloat though, and all of these changes are truly for the better.

Uh oh... Owen caught me... He's waking up now. No more computer time.

Pre-school Already?

2010-09-06T18:25:00.000-07:00

I can't believe the day has come... tommorrow Elijah starts pre-school. We've had almost four years of fun together and now he's moving into this new stage of life. It only hit me about a week ago that it is really happening and closer than it could possibly seem. I know that he's ready, I know that he will love it... and though I know that there are many many benefits, I also know that I will miss him.
He's been my buddy and turned into the most wonderful big brother to Owen. He loves his place of knowing all the rules and making sure that Owen is held to the same high standards. I wonder about all the things that will change now as I sit on this last night of what will become many nights of wondering how he will function without me.
that's probably the most scary part- wondering what it will be like without me. No one knows him as well as I do ( and no one ever will until many many years from now). Of course, the whole point of parenting is to shape children to be able to go out away from us independantly and be "all right," but secretly we want them to need us, we want to keep them close forever, however selfish and unecisary that may be.
He's going to be okay. He's going to love it. Life will go on.... it will change, it will be different, but it will go on.

Laundry Day

2010-08-20T06:53:00.000-07:00

I realized it was time to wash the whites again when I couldn’t find a clean flat sheet for my sister-in-law when she stayed over last week. This hasn’t happened in long time, mostly because we received five or six sets of sheets for our wedding. I don’t usually let the laundry pile up that much; I guess it’s been that kind of month though… the kind of month that feels like one long day. Things that used to be on the top of my list are lost and forgotten.
So I washed and dried all the sheets I could find, including the ones on both of my boys’ beds. I wanted to get this job all done at once. Tonight I had to face folding them and putting them all away… the part of laundry that I hate most of all. I still haven’t figured out how to fold those fitted sheets- with which I have a love-hate relationship. They are, of course, brilliantly practical, yet a ridiculous bulgy entanglement until they actually appear on the bed. I’ve tried and tried matching the seams up, folding down the part that’s curved, so there’s somewhat of a straight edge, but still I end up with this ugly rolled up package that looks like my three-year-old folded it, and I gave it entirely no effort which is the opposite of the truth. So, you can see why I avoid washing sheets every week.
I must also mention that the flat sheets give me trouble as well which I’m going to credit only to the massive size of the sheet. I mean really, have you ever tried folding a sheet that is the size of a small bedroom? I get it all spread out, match up the corners of one side, and then I can’t seem to make it to the other side without getting twisted up or misguided. It’s very frustrating. I’m tempted to give up, turn the entire pile of sheets into one big wad, and throw them in the linen closet- as is. Good luck everyone in finding a sheet when you need one!
However, I didn’t turn my clean basket of whites into a wad… after all, there were socks and underwear in there too! I took a deep breath, sorted it out and did my best as usual to make these large thin pieces of material appear as close to a neatly folded stack as possible. In the end, I was nearly completely dissatisfied by my efforts, but the good news is there are now clean sheets in the closet and an empty laundry basket for me to collect yet another load.

MOTHERHOOD: don't forget your Machete!

2010-08-15T13:43:00.000-07:00

I wrote this a few months ago and decided to post it here on my blog in hopes that maybe someone else is out there feeling just like me who can benefit.

I feel small, like I could slip down the drain in the kitchen sink and nobody would notice. Then again, they would notice. They’d notice an absence of nagging, yelling, and emotional tornados from the house. Who is this person I have become? I start out the day trying to be the person I know I should be, but then something happens… and that other person comes out to handle the situation, and then another thing happens and she’s taking over. I step back and don’t even recognize my life. It’s not supposed to be this way. I was going to be the calm understanding mother of respectful children who handled every situation with grace and ease. Is that even possible? I don’t think so. Motherhood has taken me by surprise on this crazy day-by-day adventure.
Most days, I’m hacking through the jungle with a machete, hoping this free-style path that I’m creating will eventually end up back to where I am supposed to be. But where is that exactly? Does anyone know? It’s exhausting- the search, the spontaneity, the mere survival of it all. Just a few more really hard days like today, and I think we’ll either make it back to the main path of balance where mother and child and family work together in harmony… or it will break me and I’ll never get turned in the right direction. I will have fallen so hard that I’ll never be able to get back up again. I know, that’s very pessimistic of me. I’m just begging for some rescue heroes to plow through the deep green overgrowth of my life on a four-wheeler, pull me aboard and show me the way. I imagine myself getting on, tuckering in for a long journey back to sanity and the right path, which will most likely be three feet away. Just like me- to give up when I was so close. But what if they never come? What if things never change? Will I be stuck in the jungle forever with monkeys and wild animals who won’t listen to a thing I say? Maybe I’ll start making my own clothes from their hides…
It’s better at night. At night I can wash away the exhaustion of the day, and after a few minutes of quiet I almost seem to forget it altogether. Maybe that’s how I’m able to keep going. The rest and the time to myself, recharges me for another day of trudging through the unknown.
I never knew it would be like this. I think that is what bothers me the most. I feel so unprepared, so inadequate- which frustrates me to no end. No one told me I would need a machete, much less that I would be making up most of the rules…where the path is, when to eat, sleep, or dance uncontrollably. These were things that felt very structured when I was growing up, like the parents all had the same handbook. When the rules were broken they knew exactly how to handle it. And there was no adventuring in the jungle; we always walked on the trail of balance and perfect harmony. I’m not saying we were perfect children by any means, but my parents somehow knew how to earn our respect gracefully, seemingly without much effort. Maybe I’m wrong; maybe it took a great deal of effort, as it currently is for me. They may have been able to disguise it better than I can.
I just can’t help feeling remorse at the end of the day, like I could have done better. I could have hacked more of the path away, gotten us closer to where we are supposed to be. I could have used smoother movements, more graceful tones, been lighter on my feet. What I have realized is that I can’t change them or their reactions to me. I can only change myself. I can give them opportunities to choose good and that is all. I can’t make that decision for them. I never knew it would be so hard, that it would hurt so much. I guess my biggest fear is that I will fail as a mother, the one thing I really wanted to be great at. My mind wanders to places far in the distance, and I can’t help knowing that what I do now affects their future every bit as much as what I will do then. Is the defiance a stage that will pass, or will it only get worse? Will an unruly almost four-year old become an uncontrollable teenager? I don’t want to believe that’s true, but sometimes it keeps me up at night.
I know discipline is healthy, and completely necessary, I just don’t want to spend ALL day playing rule enforcer! Somehow at this age I can’t escape it. They are both learning constantly and that includes boundaries of all kinds. Lately, Elijah has been testing everything possible, and even laughing at some punishments. I left him in his room with these words to end the day after he had been told several times to go to bed, “I’m going to let you choose. If you want to be good, you can lie down and go to sleep on your pillow like I asked you to. You can also choose to be naughty which will earn you a day of no fun tomorrow. I’m going to leave now and let you decide.” This works much better than time outs or spankings for Elijah. He’s a very smart little boy and deeply wants to do the right thing, so I find by giving him the option he will usually choose it. I think he also doesn’t want me to be right for some reason, so leaving the room allows him to make the decision with his own conscience. I always try to tell him that I love him after he has been punished. It feels much better when I can do this and keep myself in control, then I know I’m not acting out of anger and frustration.
Are you too using your machete? Have you found the path of balance in your life or do you too feel as if you are in the middle of an overgrown jungle?

Plan To Be Spontaneous!

2010-07-20T09:53:00.000-07:00

I love summer mornings… when it is still cooler outside than it is inside, dew sparkles in the blades of grass that need mowing, and everything looks and feels fresh. Most of all I think I like the idea that I get to start anew myself. I don’t know what is in store for us (which used to scare me to death- living without a schedule that is). Now it is exciting just to be. We never know where we’ll end up or what we might get a chance to do that day, and I’m beginning to really embrace that.
Martin and I discovered a new phrase that seems to encompass our lives so completely, “Plan to be Spontaneous!” I love it! Of course my instinct is to plan, plan, plan until I’ve worked out every detail, but sometimes that really sucks all the fun out of life. I’m learning to let things go.
Each day holds so many possibilities. Elijah and I were discussing all of the fun things to do in summer this morning. His favorites were: mowing the lawn with daddy (he loves pushing his toy mower exactly in step with daddy- it is one of the cutest things ever), going to the library, getting ice cream, and going to the beach to build sand castles! The conversation started in the garage. He noticed our sled in the corner and wanted to go sledding! I prodded him with questions trying to get him to connect that it was entirely the wrong season for that. It fascinates me the way kids think, though. They see something they want to do… and what should stop them? Certainly not lack of snow!
Today I am thankful for so many things! I thank God for my boys who teach me more about life and myself than I would ever know without them; I thank God for my husband who constantly surprises me with love and care that I don’t deserve; and I thank God for seasons that come to us with such detail we will never understand it all. What a blessed life… what a Love He has for us!

Tink's Last Day

2010-07-17T14:01:00.000-07:00

Animals have a way of knowing when death is coming. They prepare in their own way for the end of their life. It is so unlike human nature. We fret and fight it with everything we have, denying and holding on. From what I have seen, the animals have it right. They usually go off on their own, away from everything to spend their last days in peace. What a way to go. If I knew it was coming, I’d like to spend my last days in peace, not fighting to stay here longer unnaturally. But that is a different conversation.

For some time now our cat, Tinkerbelle, has been getting sicker. Two weeks ago when we came back from a weekend trip to Seattle, she was looking very fragile indeed. Her appetite decreased so much that she barely ate anything at all. It was obvious she had lost a considerable amount of weight. It was shocking to see the numbers on the scale, though. She used to be a fat lazy cat weighing in at a healthy twelve pounds. Now she was diminished down to a mere seven and a half pounds (smaller than both of my boys birth weights)!
We finally took her to the Vet a few days ago. I was prepared to hear that she needed a new special diet, or maybe a vitamin for cats that would revive her. No, none of that would be needed. We were facing her last days. The Vet told us she had lymphoma in her stomach - which made it nearly impossible to eat. I wasn’t ready for this. Holding back tears, I didn’t want to accept it. Surely she couldn’t be dying… but then again all of the signs were there. She looked more haggard than I had ever seen her, and her escapes outside had been more frequent as well. We were all going to have to say good byes to our sweet Tinkerbelle… forever.
Nearly five years ago, Martin and I were still newlyweds living in Nebraska when we adopted Tinkerbelle from the “Cat Sanctuary.” She was our “baby” then. We brushed her nearly every day, I even gave her baths from time to time, and she greeted us much like a puppy went we came through the front door. She’s lived in every place that we have… there in our very first apartment, at my parents home when we moved in with them (both times), in our second apartment in Coeur d’Alene where we first brought Elijah home to, also in the house that we bought Owen home to (which was not our own- we were house-sitting rent free), and finally the house that has become her last home, the house that God blessed us with last spring.
I can’t help feeling that we are losing part of our family. I know how silly that sounds… she’s an animal right? They only live so long. I know, but she has given us so much. She’s tolerated two rambunctious boys poking, and prodding, and petting too enthusiastically. But more than that, she’s been a true companion. After the boys are in bed each night she finds her spot on the couch with me, or if I’m in bed reading, she is there too. In fact, whenever I am alone, she finds her way to me, as if to say, “I’m here for you, you are not alone.” She has been such a comfort to me especially in times of loneliness. That’s really the reason Martin agreed to get her five years ago. He had one more year of college to finish which meant cross-country and track meets on the weekends and LOTS of studying and school work in between. Tinkerbelle kept me company while he was away. She was something else I could love, and in return she loved me so unconditionally.
Today is her last day. It seems so strange to set a time to it. We considered letting her go in the wild somewhere, but it would be more pain and struggle for her that way, since she has no claws and can’t eat anything. So the date and time is set. Tonight at five-thirty we’ll drive to the Vet to say our last goodbyes.
We are truly going to miss you Tink! You have been a sweet part of our family.

Note: Did you know cats are the only animals that smile with their eyes?
I'm going to miss Tink's beautiful green eyes slanting into that happy "smile."

Reflections

2010-07-14T12:41:00.000-07:00

The thing about having a lot of time alone is that it gives me too much time to think. This can be a good thing, but sometimes in the world of thoughts it is dangerous. On our own, what we think to be true may not be true at all, and living so internally isn't healthy. Some days this causes me to believe the negative twisted thoughts my mind has created, that I am worthless, hopeless, and life is meaningless. what a pit of despair! And of course all of those things would be true without Jesus.
With that realization I kind of have to smack myself in the face and say, "wake up!" Because I know if I let myself, my whole life could pass me by. I could miss everything if I let myself believe the lies.
All this reflection has made me see how ungrateful I've been. Yes, it's been a rough year, not just for me but for thousands. I've seen so many ups and downs this year it's made me dizzy. I miss my friends, my family, my "normal" life...whatever that is. But along the way I have missed some things- some really great things that I won't ever get back.
I never know when it's going to be a rough day. In fact every day I can pretty count on being challenging, but the great thing is with embracing that challenge I can find joy again.
A few nights ago it hit me hard. It had been a long day. elijah took a late nap, which meant he'd have an even later bedtime, and Owen woke up from already being in bed at around 8:30. I held Owen on the couch. He laid his head on my shoulder, just wanting to be held, I think. Elijah sat at the table coloring in his favorite Lightning Mcqueen coloring set. It was a moment, one I had imagined and dreamed of finding full of peace and joy and budding with contentment. I embraced it. After all how long had it been since Owen wanted to sit still long enough to cuddle? and elijah almost never sticks with one activity longer than twenty minutes. This was bliss. I had both of my beautiful children happy and glowing right within reach.

I don't want to miss anything else. I want to always act out of love and accept my circumstances instead of fighting them. Life is moving always faster than we can keep up with it, but for now I'm tired of the race. I'm simply ready to embrace my moments- whatever they may be.

Today, count your blessings with me. I'm sure your day will be better when you do!

The First Day of Summer

2010-06-22T13:18:00.000-07:00

The constant drizzle and grey skies proclaim nothing of “The First Day of Summer.” I guess the weather forgot to check the calendar. It’s supposed to be sunny now… remember weather? The rest of the country is in bathing suits and off enjoying long hours at the beach, but here in the North West on the first day of summer, I’m in jeans and a sweatshirt. Oh yeah, and don’t forget the cozy socks and quilt to cuddle under as soon as the wind is shut safely outside the door.
Okay, it’s not all ranting and raving… I actually enjoy all four seasons here. In fact, on this first day of summer, I may have started my very own little tradition, today. At least I hope it will become one.
The rain has caused everything in our yard to come to life, to turn three shades of green, and our roses have opened up to give us their very first greeting of the season. One of my favorite things about living here as a child was the fantastic spring and summer bouquets my mom would bring in from our very own yard. She’d place them proudly on the table, arranging them as if she were a paid florist.
As I walked to get the mail today, I noticed several red blooms from our rose bushes. They were calling out to me, pining to be plucked, to be part of the first bouquet to sit on my windowsill. I thought about cutting them just then, but realized it would be more than challenging with a baby on my hip and a three year old wanting the “help.” Later I told myself. And later came just before the sun went down (well I guess I couldn’t really tell since we never saw the sun at all today and the sky just turned a slightly darker shade of grey, but it was after the boys were in bed anyways). I got out my rose pruners and a small vase, clipped a large blossom, some that hadn’t yet opened, and one that was just on the brink of something spectacular. I like to choose them at all three different stages; it makes the bouquet more interesting, less commercial looking, and last longer with continual budding.
After arranging the freshly cut flowers and adding some water to the vase, I set them on my windowsill. They are exquisite. As I look at them I feel my mom’s sense of pride, her joy, I feel more at home then I did only minutes ago. Even the roses shake the rain from their velvety petals as they settle into their new residence. It is summer; there is no denying that. My hope, as you may have guessed, is that every year on the first day of Summer, my roses will pine to be plucked, and I will bring in the most beautiful and first bouquet of the season that will make my house feel more like home all over again.

This n' That Conratulations!

2010-06-09T10:55:00.000-07:00

I am sitting at a small children's table at the library... the closest place to get Internet access. I love being in the atmosphere where books line the walls and children eagerly grab for them. My love for reading and books has grown enormously over the past year and is growing greater still, though I believe it has always been a core part of my being. I knew how to read before I even went to preschool, but that's besides the point.
I wish I had more time... this is always my wish. More time to write, to think, to read to be.

Elijah is playing some kind of Barney game on the computer next to me. I don't think he knows how to play it, but it is keeping him entertained.

Martin is taking his turn with Owen around the Children's section. He's getting rather difficult now, Owen I mean. He wants so badly to be able to walk and play like all the other babies a head shorter and five pounds smaller than him, but still her crawls. I'm just as eager. It is such a frustration for us both to go to the park and he constantly says, "play, play," but I can't just let him crawl through the bark chips on his hands and knees! Soon enough, soon enough.

This friday is our fifth Anniversary and my brother's graduation from the Master's program at Eastern University... what a smarty pants! And his little baby will be two weeks old tomorrow! Wow how has life slipped so easily? Are we really all so grown up now?
I'm hoping for an evening of reconnection friday night... no schedule to keep, just me and my honey talking and catching up with this life that has gone on so quickly without my permission. A few months ago I bought a box of 50 tealight candles and I plan to use all of them, dropping them in baby jars and placing them throughout the house. Doesn't that sound beautiful? I've been daydreaming of it constantly.

Happy Anniversary US! And Congrats to my big brother who never fails to make me proud!

Baby Aletheia is Here!

2010-05-29T16:35:00.000-07:00

Every woman labors differently. And the entire process of pregnancy to birth and delivery... the whole package still amazes me. God certainly designed it all perfectly. My birth stories are completely different from yours and every other woman in the world. That too is amazing and wonderful. And Tanya's story from my point of view would hardly be accurate, but I can tell you what I saw, what I heard and what I experienced as I waited for my second niece to be born.

Wednesday morning I got a call from my brother. They were on there way to the hospital- it was time! Her water broke shortly after arriving at the hospital- a great sign! I could hardly hold in my excitement, so while I waited for Martin to get some sleep and Owen to get a nap as well, I did the only thing I could think to busy myself and yet still be productive. I made muffins. I mashed bananas, measured flour, and poured the mixture into paper cups as I daydreamed of the miracle about to happen just minutes away. I couldn't wait. For me, birth has a very positive connotation. this isn't true of course for all women. I can't help thinking of the connection to our creator, the way he equipped us all with the empowering task that men will never fully understand. It gives me chills just thinking of it now.

We arrived at the hospital sometime after lunch. I was so proud of my brother for remaining his calm usual self, comforting his laboring wife, but I was even more proud of her. She kept her breathing controlled, staying on top of each contraction. Great Job Tanya! Though we are equipped to handle it, labor is called labor for a reason. It isn't an easy experience. We watched the contractions rise and fall on the monitor...amazing. I was so grateful to be able to be a part of this. The only other births I had been to were my own.

Tanya labored and breathed for hours and hours. We all wondered whether this baby would ever come out. I won't go in to all the details for like I said before that is not my story to tell. I was there to wait, to comfort, to love. At 1:01 am Thursday morning, Aletheia graced us with her presence. The first time I saw her, she was in my brother's strong arms, bundled in blankets, wearing a white hospital hat. All I could see of her was her delicate face- Tanya's lips and all the other features a perfect mix of the two. She blinked a greeting to me, and I got a glimpse of her cloudy eyes (which will most likely turn to blue). What a reward! After waiting all day, just to see her was all I needed! I can't wait to see her grow and watch my brother and friend (sister-in-law) join me on this journey called parenthood. It is quite a ride, but they are off to a good start. I could tell the next day when we went back to visit. Though Aletheia was under that blue light to help with her jaundice, the whole room felt unusually calm. Her special baby sunglasses made me smile. Her tiny cry was almost laughable, so cute compared to what I'm used to. It only took a few rubs and pats and she quieted down. This is going to be one laid back family.
Congratulations James and Tanya!

Aletheia (Greek for truth)
8 lbs. 1oz.
she is beautiful!

(sorry I don't have any pictures downloaded yet)!

Everything Days and Nothing Days

2010-05-25T12:09:00.000-07:00

My weeks are compiled of what I call everything days and nothing days. On everything days I find myself doing everything from sun up to sun down. Those days are like a three ring circus and I am keeping it all running- the tight rope, the juggling, the dancing elephants, the whole enchilada. We eat a good breakfast, get everyone changed or to the potty. Getting out the door is always the very worst part. I don’t know why, but that is the point at which I feel like screaming or perhaps throwing something through the front window. No body has socks on even though I’ve requested it three times and repeated exactly where to find them. I think it’s the pressure of getting somewhere on time that really kills me. I hate being late, but my kids haven’t acquired any connection to their actions with what time of day it is or whether we show up somewhere when the sun is up or down or wherever. In fact time makes completely no sense to them at all. Elijah often makes statements like, “I saw a fire truck out my window last night.” Last night, yesterday, this morning, they are all very fluid terms to him that he uses simply to refer to a time in the past that he recalls something specific happening. I have to laugh at it of course, but when I am trying to get out the door when we need to have left ten minutes ago, I find their sense of time very un-funny!
On everything days we try to fit in an activity before Owen’s morning nap, which is often a challenge and usually ends up backfiring on us. If we leave the house somewhere around eight, we have a good chance of getting something done and returning for a nine or nine-thirty nap. Then again, who can manage to get out of the house by eight in the morning? So he ends up taking a nap at ten or ten-thirty, which throws off the afternoon, nap and makes him cranky for the rest of the day until bedtime by which point I am ready to throw something out the front window again.
The morning activity usually consists of grocery shopping, going to the library, bookstore, or possibly the park to meet a friend. I am always more excited and willing to do the non-errand type of outing. Which means we will be getting by on peanut butter and jelly for the next three days…again. It doesn’t bother me, and it certainly doesn’t bother the boys. Elijah practically asks for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches at every meal. Lately I’ve been avoiding the grocery store at all costs. I used to love planning out meals and deciding exactly what menu to whip up for the week, but now… it has turned into this stressful issue for me and I don’t even understand exactly why. Maybe it’s the mixed up schedule. With Martin eating dinner for breakfast, lunch in the middle of the night and breakfast right before I go to bed, it has me all mixed up about how to plan anything in the ways of meals. I try to make something dinner-ish sometimes that he can take as leftovers to work, but honestly I have found cooking to be one of the hardest things to do with two kids running around the house. It usually comes down to yogurt or cereal for dinner and he’s on his own for what to bring for lunch. Then I feel guilty and make him a sandwich, throw in an apple and a string cheese, and he’s satisfied.
If there is more than one outing, it is definitely considered an everything day. More than two outings… and I get to where a crown and carry a wand through the three-ring circus. This does happen every so often on those days when we’ve stayed out to long for Owen’s nap, and missed the window for him to take one at all. On those days I just figure I might as well stay on the boat while it’s still floating. We go to the park, or the library. The boys burn off lots of energy. Elijah always meets some “friends” that usually more than willingly entertain him. He loves following the “big” kids around, getting attention from anyone taller than him makes his whole world light up. He’s now learned a few of the friendship-making basics such as: telling hopeful friends his name and asking what theirs is, agreeing to like the things that they like, and declaring that they are cool and should come to his house. Watching these encounters makes my cheeks soften into slight smiles knowing exactly where he gets his exuberance and shrill confidence. I often wonder if Martin was exactly like his son is now. Of course, Elijah pretends to be shy sometimes, but overall he lets his feelings be known whether happy, sad, thrilled, or concerned, just like his daddy. It still amazes me that my husband is so child-like in this sense. He hasn’t been broken by the world into masking himself. I love that. He is who he is. I hope he never changes, and I hope our boys continue to be like him. (note: yes… of course I get embarrassed sometimes by all the honesty and open feelings, but it’s much better than second guessing or being fake).
If we’ve been able to get through the day with little whining and no potty accidents, I’ve been known to get Elijah a kids smoothie along with my favorite drink at Dutch Bros.- my most recent obsession. I usually need one by the middle of an everything day and I feel good if I can also get Elijah something too. He loves it when the barista puts a dollop of whip cream on the straw for him. I watch in the rearview mirror as he licks it off and gets most of it on his face. Then he tries licking the sides of his mouth and cheeks. This turns into finger licking, and somewhat of a mess in the back seat, but it’s an everything day- messes included.
So whether we’ve soaked up the sun, or soaked up some books, by the end of the day I am ready to get the boys fed and into bed. However, sometimes an everything day also includes visiting grandma and Papa. If it’s a Tuesday we often steal Grandma and include her in our trip to Dutch Bros. Mostly because all drinks are two dollars that day, but also because it happens to be in close proximity to where Grandma teaches first graders all day and she needs a break too. We also like to take Grandma to Target with us. It’s nice to have some company while we look at things on way to pick up the necessary diapers or pull-ups. Grandma also usually buys a cookie or a pretzel for a boy who only has to ask sweetly and gaze up at her with his dark brown eyes. I count the pretzel as dinner, especially if I add in some yogurt at the snack bar and some apple juice. I hope one or both of the boys will fall asleep on the way home so I can have a little time to breathe, but then again sometimes we have the greatest of conversations. I know it sounds bizarre, conversations, but its true. Elijah will bring up something he’s been thinking about that I may have never known had I turned the radio up full blast or had he fallen asleep. Other times the car turns into a sound-fest. Owen will copy a sound he heard from big brother. Elijah will laugh his infectious little laugh and repeat the sound, causing a cycle of laughs and silly sounds all the way home. Sometimes I join in too, they love to see me being silly right along with them, and I know at some point they won’t. They’ll call me a dork or something of equal meaning in complete embarrassment that I really am their mom. But right now I relish in the fact that I am the coolest and most knowledgeable person they know. They believe every word that comes from my lips. And I am the person they come to for everything… more now then ever.
At the end of an everything day I feel both exhausted and empowered. I look back and think, wow how did I get all that done? Did I mention everything days also include laundry, dishes, changing sheets, scrubbing toilets, vacuuming, mopping, oh yeah… and sweating to the beat of my step class workout video? Of course not all of these are done on the same day, well usually not, but they do get accomplished somehow. During naptime on some days, but often after the boys have both gone to bed.
It’s amazing just how different my life looks and feels when the house is quiet with both boys asleep. I feel like me again and I wonder who that crazy woman was that took over my body earlier in the day. That couldn’t have been me. I never lose my temper, or make a big deal about something as small as finding socks and putting them on the correct body part. No, that couldn’t have been me. Now I feel full amounts of air filling my lungs easily. My head isn’t pounding or throbbing. I’m not concerned about anyone or anything, but me and my own little world consisting of the few hours I have just for me.
Now of course your wondering about nothing days. Ideally life should consist of everything and nothing all rolled together in a single perfect day, but for some reason my days never work like that. Especially now, I can’t seem to balance anything. A nothing day almost always follows an everything day. Of course it is impossible for me to spend an entire day doing absolutely nothing, but I am so worn out from the everything day that just the thought of getting out of the house again makes me want to hide in the closet. So, a nothing day consists of me doing the bare minimum. You know what I’m talking about. The kids get fed, I manage to eat somewhere in the mix, but no one gets out of their jammies. We watch a few cartoons, I let the boys get out every toy and book and box from the cupboard to play with- undoing all the work of yesterday. But somehow this brings me the strangest sort of peace. We play and laugh and cuddle and eat things that require absolutely no cooking and little preparing whatsoever- cereal, applesauce, crackers, string cheese, grapes, trail mix. Those kinds of things become our breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Both boys nap on time because we had nowhere to go. I let Elijah do an extra craft project “just because,” and read him an extra story at bedtime too. After they’re asleep I don’t do my workout, I don’t even look at my sports bra. Instead, I hunt for the dark chocolate mint Haagen Daz ice cream and put in my latest Netflix pick.
It works. In this crazy out of control circus of mine, this mix of extreme days works. We go and we do and we do all we can do, and then we rest and play and cuddle. It’s actually a fairly nice cycle. I never really know what to expect, where we might end up on an everything day, or how often I will get a nothing day, but they come and go in this strange unpredictable pattern that has become my life. I love it. Though at times I actually visualize myself throwing that loud destructive thing through my front window just to silence the chaos.

An unexpected Package

2010-04-15T16:48:00.000-07:00

Many of you know that I spent a month jump-starting my goal to become healthy and fit. Now I am proudly working out every other day! I'm actually sticking to it! You might also be aware of my incredibly sweet husband. The following has the possibility of making you extremely envious (unless of course you too have a husband who continues to court you). I'm not telling you this to purposely make you wish your husband did things like this... In fact I honestly and whole-heartedly hope that he does. Because these are the moments that make us stop in our tracks, make us sigh with assurance, and hold on to for a long, long time.

This afternoon the doorbell rang. This is going to sound silly- but I'm in the habit of using the bathroom with the door open. I feel like that way I can still keep an understanding of what is happening with my kids. So I'm sitting on the toilet thinking, "who would be ringing the doorbell in the middle of the day?" My mind immediately thinks for some reason Mormons or Jehovah's Witnesses, and I make an effort to close the bathroom door quickly because I hear Martin rush to the front door answer it. That could have been a very uncomfortable situation.
After coming out of the bathroom, I ask Martin, "So who was at the door?"
"Come and see," he says, "I've been waiting for this!"
So by this point I knew it had not been the Jehovah's Witnesses or the Mormons, but some kind of package that had been delivered. Of course, why hadn't I thought of that? A large soft envelope was now on our dining room table. What could it be? At first I immediately assumed it was another book for the classes that he's been taking, then I noticed two letters in the top left hand corner that gave it all away: VS.
Meaning: Victoria's Secret... now before you get any ideas... It was nothing like what you may be thinking. No lingerie or sexy, sexy things. I ripped open the envelope to find the most flattering, fun sports bra I had ever seen in a bright reddish-pink. Along with the bra, were three fitness tanks, one plum, one jade, and one grey!
And this is what he said, "I am so proud of you for sticking with your work-out plan and wanted you to have something nice as a reward. These will look great on you!"
Wow, right?! I mean first of all he did this without me knowing. Secondly, he got my size right... which is amazing all on its own, and thirdly it made me feel on top of the world! He really loves me, more than I deserve, more than I could ever ask for. He's my penguin, my match, my best friend!
I just had to share my happy moment with all of you. I hope that you have many of these moments too. Now I have the perfect thing to wear for Sunday's "Race For The Cure!" What could be more perfect than a bright pink sports bra under that grey tank?

Is This IT? Are we really done having babies?

2010-04-14T13:27:00.000-07:00

If you know me well, you might know that I am fairly indecisive. This of course drives my husband crazy! "What do you want... just pick something!" He'll say after I've spent ten minutes going back and forth on an incredibly life altering decision like choosing which flavor of ice cream to get, or what sandwich to order. Due to this "character flaw" I have learned it's easier to stick with things that I already know will work for me. I no longer take chances on trying new flavors at the coffee shop; I get my favorite because it's the best- I know I will love it and I don't have to irritate Martin by weighing out the pros and cons of trying one of the specials. I've tried to use this tactic in all areas of my life to make things easier, but sometimes there just isn't an easy way out. You really have to weigh the pros and cons to come to a reasonable decision, which brings me to a decision I have been thinking about every day for months now.

First of all, I would like to say this is going to sound fairly silly and you might think I am totally ridiculous after reading my thoughts on how I am coming on this particular decision. You see, family planning has come to us in a sort of backwards manner (which is exactly what I am struggling with presently). We started out pregnant, six months into our marriage. It was a God-given surprise that led us on a path we hadn't planned for ourselves. We had always talked about having two or three kids... well now the question is blinking in front of my face every day like a neon add "Two or Three?" How do you know when your family is complete, when is it time to do something permanent?

I thought I knew. When I was pregnant the last time around, we had decided that if it was a girl we'd leave the option open to try again for a third child, but if it was a boy, we'd be done (the thought of possibly having three boys just seemed completely overwhelming to me at the time). Now we have two wonderful beautiful boys, and I am as I should have expected riding the fence about having another one.

Some days it's easy to go along with the already decided plan to be done having kids. It's definitely the more financially smart thing to do in our current situation. I can easily picture our family of four going on vacations together- everyone has their own window and we don't have to do crowd control because we aren't out numbered. I hold one child's hand and Martin holds the other's.

I also sort of like the idea of being the only lady in the house. I dream of days not too far off when I will send the boys off on a fishing trip and I will stay at home for a weekend of pampering or a girls night in.

Then there's the other issue of my sanity. Many days I feel like: how in the world would anyone handle more than two? Of course, I know many who have pulled it off beautifully, my mom included (in fact if she would have stopped at two, I wouldn't exist)! But that still doesn't make it the right decision for me.

So what does?

Certainly the fact that I have several beautiful baby girl names picked out that I may never get to use, is at the top of the list of not being a good reason to have another baby (at least that's what I am telling myself). My other reasons are like it: I notice pregnant women and babies everywhere I go and feel this strange aching in my stomach... maybe it's my heart. I usually remind myself that those parts of my life are over. I come up with some logical, reasonable thing to comfort myself like: now I can help other mommies and love on other babies... oh yeah and I can give even more love to the wonderful babies I already have!

My feelings on this matter change from day to day, and some days, hour to hour. Sometimes I can look at the sweet children God has given me and smile with feelings of contentment. (this usually happens when they are asleep or behaving exceptionally well) - "This is it, this is 'us,'" I think. But then again, what if it isn't?

So here's the list:

pros:

okay so it's really hard to put down what having a baby means on paper (but did you notice the photo at the beginning of this blog?...do I really need to write on?

Here are some words and thoughts that come to mind:

-joy

-being part of, and actively seeing a miracle

-feeling the presence of God

-life

-giggles

-cuddles

-seeing part you, part of the one you love, and a little bit of family here and there, all complied into one of God's most beautiful creations- your baby!

-pure love

-adventure

-lessons you can learn no other way

-afternoons of laying on the couch holding your bundle and thinking of nothing else

-a new friend for life (not just for you, but for siblings and many others)

-a new soul to teach and nurture

-tickles-laughter-playtime

-family

-I already have some great baby names picked out

- I already know how to change a diaper (which I can also do successfully in the back hatch of our car in the rain), and I can randomly and convincingly make up songs to go along with any emergency (such as cleaning up toys, going to bed, or learning to use the potty)

-the house is baby-proofed

-we have lots of baby things... toys, clothes, a crib etc.

-I'm still young- this year I'll be turning 25, which gives me plenty of time for another baby

-I have some kind of yearning that may or may not go away

-(warning: this one is a bit silly and surprising) I love the experience of pregnancy and birth. It is something only we can do as women and it is phenomenal and empowering and amazing.

cons:

these things are a little more tangible, which is why a decision like this is so difficult...

-we have a small three bedroom house (perfect for a family of four)

-I may finally be back to my pre-pregnancy weight and size (well as close as I'm going to get)

-our adult to child ratio is equal with two -another one may feel like juggling

-pregnancy, birth, sleep training, breast-feeding, potting training... etc... ALL OVER AGAIN! (of course most of these could also go on the pro list depending on how you look at it)

-most men would put this at the top of the list- finances- can we afford another one?

-emotionally- another one could just send me over the top... I'm not always stable as it is

-I get a full nights sleep on a regular basis- I'm not sure I can give that up again

-we also have a reliable schedule -I know when to expect naptimes, mealtimes, and playtimes

-it's quite possible that three car seats won't fit in our car

-I like having two boys- this could be it- and I could be completely satisfied

-I'm also not sure what I'd do with a girl, if we did have a girl, but then again, I'm still not sure what I'd do with three boys... I may never have a clean house or food in the refrigerator if that were to happen

I will probably think of more that I should have added to these lists... and maybe I will inform you of those thoughts later on. For now I still don't know where God will take our family, if he will add to it, or if this really is it. But I am finally allowing myself the option to consider it being okay to want another one. This all may sound crazy and backwards and incredibly indecisive, but that's me. I rarely think about anything for a only a fleeting moment... and this could be something that changes the rest of my life.

Let me know how you decided... or give me some ideas on when you know if your family is complete...

The Misfit

2010-04-03T16:34:00.000-07:00

This morning I was feeling confident, proud even. After a month of sweating it out in my living room a pair of pre-baby pants gracefully slipped over my hips. I even buttoned them with ease! Later on in the day, we decided to make an outing to Old Navy. They were having a One Day Wonder sale on polo shirts for $5 (I thought they'd be great for Martin to wear to work, but they had no pocket, and aparently this is very important to him... so we didn't actually buy any polos) I wasn't really planning on buying anything, but while I was browsing the clearance racks a few things practically jumped into my basket.
Now, if you are like most women, you avoid the dressing room at all cost. It looks good on the hanger and that is the size you wore last time you bought something, so it should fit, right? This is a terrible mistake, however we all know what is going to happen in the fitting room. The things we wanted to fit somehow look like a completely different garment than we imagined, and the size we hoped to be, well... is still a dream in the making.
I decided to face the fitting room today since I did have the advantage of a husband to help out with the boys. I found this great pair of jeans that they wanted practically nothing for. Of course the jeans were one size smaller than the pants I was wearing. I took them anyway and with brave optimism I stepped behind the curtain . Now it was just me and the jeans. Silently I began chanting, begging, pleading, "please fit, please fit, please fit!" I got one leg in up to my thigh- it was already looking questionable. I begged some more as I squeezed the second leg in, and then the jumping, shaking, and, wiggling began. Taking a deep breath, I sucked in everything I could and fastened the button victoriously. If getting in to the jeans truly was the goal, I would have been a champion, but unfortunately I needed to look good in them too and my reflection wouldn't lie. I kept trying different angles, telling myself that they could look good on me. The girl in the mirror set me straight with, "Stop fooling yourself, you won't even be able to sit down! Just face it, you may never wear this size comfortably again!"
She was right. I removed the too-tight jeans, and slipped back into my own pants. I gave myself a second look. They weren't so bad. I could button them without "stuff" hanging over the waistline.
I hate fitting rooms, but as you can see, it's really all my own fault. We all do it- hoping something is what it isn't, hoping something will make us feel what it can't possibly, and setting expectations too high for ourselves. If there was a fitting room for life I'd probably still pick the wrong jeans to try on... and then I'd realize I look just fine in what I already have.

The Long Way Home

2010-03-28T14:15:00.000-07:00

We live about twenty minutes out of town, at least the town where I prefer to do most of my outings. That gives me two options, the freeway, or the long back, country road. Most of the time I take the freeway to wherever we are going, the grocery store, church, grandma’s house. But I like to take the long way home.
Today, after church, I grabbed my favorite white mocha freeze at Dutch Bros, and headed home on the long country road. My two boys were babbling and giggling with each other in the backseat, Elijah stretching his arm out attempting to place a sticker on his brother’s face. They love each other so much! I simply smiled to myself in the rear view mirror ready to enjoy the next twenty minutes.
There is something freeing about driving out in the open where you can see outstretched plains reaching to far away purple mountains topped with snow. We pass cows and horses, even goats roaming in their very own pasture, just as God intended. It is then that I feel, just for a moment, that everything is right and as it should be. I roll the window down and let the breeze fluster my hair a little. Then a voice from the backseat says, “I want my window down too, mommy!” “All right, just a little,” I say. Elijah tells me how many horses were in the meadow out his window. I smile with pride, wonder, and amazement – this boy is growing up too quickly.
A few minutes later, near the half-way mark of getting home, the chatting, giggling and babbling ceases. I look behind me to see two zonked out boys, heads loose- faces angelic. The vault of my heart snaps a picture, so I can remember this moment forever.

The next ten minutes of my drive are just for me. I finish sipping my perfect drink, and think about my life. My struggles, my victories, and thoughts of the future flutter through my mind with new hope in these few minutes of perfect peace. The sun is peeking through the clouds resplendently.

Crying in Closets

2010-03-23T19:08:00.000-07:00

Every day I am faced with the realization of how ridiculous my life is. The abnormality of my schedule is really starting to take it's toll on me. Today I found myself locked in the darkness of my closet just to get some peace, take some deep breaths and yes, cry a little. It's not that my life is so bad. In fact I have a very blessed life and everything that I need is supplied for me more often than not. I'm just tired of not seeing my husband on a regular basis, and I know I'm not the only one and I shouldn't complain... I hate being a whiner. But here is what my week looks like:
If you didn't already know, Martin, my hubby, works the night shift. He gets up at 8;30pm Sunday through Thursday and comes home around 7am. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, he goes to morning classes. On those days he makes it home for a late lunch and then it's off to sleep at 2pm. Tuesdays and Thursdays are sometimes spent going somewhere together for the morning. Of course he have to plan our outings around two young boys as well so that is often a challenge too. This week however, I didn't get to spend this morning with him, and I won't get Thursday either because he's working on a computer consulting job. Which I am thrilled and proud and excited for him, because he's beginning a dream- this is what he wants to be doing, but I also feel a little resentment... guilty resentment, but it's there nonetheless. Those hours, those few morning hours are supposed to be mine.

I don't want to feel this way, like the other half of my team is missing because I know he's working so hard to do what he can for our family. It would be so much easier to justify my feelings if he didn't care, if he wasn't the most wonderful husband in the world, and the best most loving daddy.
Before he started this night shift position, we did everything together. I never went anywhere alone, and if I did it was never with the boys in tow. I felt incapable. We always did things as a family even if it was just running to the store to stock up on toilet paper. We'd make it fun because we were out doing it together. Maybe we'd stop for a coffee on the way and have a good chat about something new.
I miss the way things used to be. I miss casually watching a rented movie together in our living room. We never have two consecutive hours together. We tried watching a movie in segments before he went to work one week, but that was like torture. It took us four nights to see the entire movie, and it's just not the same when you know your husband is going to walk out the door in half an hour. You can't just relax. You know the bed you sleep in will be cold and empty, and once he leaves you'll finish the bowl of popcorn or ice cream or m&ms all by yourself. And every skitter the cat makes, or bark out the window will make you jump, because your alone. And the worst part is, every night is the same. It's not like he's just gone for a fishing trip with his brother for the weekend, it's night after night after night.
Oh yeah and did I mention we don't get to spend weekends together either? nope, he's got to stay on his schedule so it doesn't mes up his sleep pattern. So if we want a date night or if we want to do anything... we really have to plan it. Occasionally he'll sleep Friday morning so that we can go out Friday night, but nothing can be spontaneous. And we are always working against time.
So today I went into the closet. It wasn't my first time. I turned out the light, closed the door wishing that it would all go away... go back to the way it used to be. I knew it was pointless, but I'm in a tunnel- a BIG, LONG tunnel and I can't see the light shining at the other end. People tell me it will get better, and that there is a light somewhere out there. I believe you... I've told people this exact same thing, but the person who's in the dark doesn't want to hear that, they want to hear that's it's okay. It's okay to feel this way... like you can't go on and you want to give up. I do want to give up- every day I meet that moment and I have to face it. Sometimes i push through, I surprise myself by being strong. Other days I cry in the closet where my kids can't see or hear me, and I tell myself it's okay.

My Favorite (mostly healthy) Snacks...

2010-03-22T20:09:00.000-07:00

Here are some of My favorite snacks and foods I have recently become very attached too. The above is a picture of a snack/trail mix that I just can't get enough of. One of my favorite things in it are the dried cherries; it also has raisins, yogurt raisins, peanut butter chips, chocolate chips, almonds, peanuts, dried fruit, soy nuts, and probably a few other things! It is yummy! I mix a few things from the bulk health food section of fred meyer. Hope you enjoy the rest of my fav. healthy snacks!

Wheat thins are the perfect snack when paired with string cheese! Mmm... I usually get the reduced fat kind, but the hubby forgot when he picked these up. This is a daily snack for me!

When I found this specific brand of chai in this liquid form that you store in the refrigerator- it changed my life! I drink it hot in the morning, pretty much every morning- mixed with milk. Then for a super awesome twist I pour this magical drink into silicone ice cube trays and freeze. Sometimes in the afternoon or evenings when my boys are asleep, I make myself a special blended chai by processing the chai ice cubes in a cup of milk with my hand mixer. It is SO good. My favorite drink ever! It may even be better than coffee! maybe.

I first tried this soup at my mom's house. And honestly I'm not a big soup fan, but this is GOOD! My favorite way to have it is with actual chunks of roasted red pepper mixed in and topped with Parmesan cheese. I also love the easy store container and that I can heat one bowl portions at a time.

These are the best fruit bars ever! You can find them at Target and they are 100% fruit and have very few calories. (yet they hit the sweet craving too)! They are perfectly paired with raw almonds (as you can see in the next picture- don't you just want to eat that snack right now?) or great cut up and put in your morning cereal. I love having a few stored in my purse for me and my boys when we are on the go.

There are other flavors of course, but this pomegranate one is my favorite!

Let me know what some of your favorite snacks are and try some of mine. I like to try new things... things that I might not have ever thought of before or seen. Hope you will like some of my favorites!

Focus On The Good

2010-03-20T22:18:00.000-07:00

March Madness Update:
Tonight I made my cat proud. As she lay curled up on the couch, my heart rate hit the ceiling and sweat poured out of every inch of my body. When I stopped for a "water break" I was so out of breath that I couldn't even get a mouth full. I wanted nothing more than to gulp down the entire glass and then some, but as it was, I only managed a few sips in between gasps. Though I only worked out four days this week, I upped the intensity by making my step three inches taller- which pretty much has me sweating in the first five minutes! I didn't realize what a difference a few inches would make... I've been using my son's stool that he uses in the bathroom to reach the sink. It's one of those dual purpose stools that changes into a kneeling station for giving kids baths. It's actually very handy. I got it as a baby shower gift and now I have found it's third purpose- aerobic step! The first two weeks I had been using it on the lower knee pad level because it gave me more room on top, but I think it is more effective doing it at the higher level. I don't thinkI have lost any weight yet (my numbers fluctuate 2-3 pounds on a regular basis), but I am seeing some change in my body!

I can't do it all:
Everyone is asleep at my house now. Even the cat is dosing off. There are a hundred things left to do... but I am trying to tell myself I can't do it all. I made a dent in the pile of dishes earlier, I'm not even going to discuss the laundry. The mail is still unopened (I'm avoiding it, only because I know it will be yet another thing for me be responsible for, another thing to file away, or write a check out to). The living room never got picked up... toys are still strewn about like no one cares, and the stacks that line my counter are all reminders of other responsibilities- things that need to get done- soon.
I'm telling myself it's okay. I'm telling myself to focus on all the good that happened today... I got to spend time with each of my boys one on one which almost never happens. I dropped Elijah off with daddy who had promised to get him a strawberry smoothie and take him to the park, while I played with the lovable laughable Owen! It's rare that I get to simply focus on him. It reminded me of when my days consisted of just me and Elijah. We laughed and found our bellies and ate goldfish crackers until nap time.
Later on in the evening I surprised Elijah with a new puzzle. (he is extremely good at puzzles- must get that from daddy)! It was a 24 piece of the very hungry caterpillar. He put it together pretty quickly, and also began quoting the book, which didn't at all surprise me. We sat together at the table. I was working on a new scrapbook project. Every 30 seconds he would ask, "mommy where do you think this piece goes?" just to see what I'd say. I kept answering, "where do you think?" sometimes giving him a hint, but he really knew where each piece went. Kids are funny like that.
I am grateful, though sometimes do feel guilty that I simply can't do it all. I am trying my best to do whatI feel is most important, isn't that all any of us can do? Maybe no one else will ever see my snail-like progress, and maybe my cat really isn't looking at me with pride, she's probably wondering why I would give up a bowl of icecream every night for stepping, jumping, and sweating infront of the T.V. Some days I don't know why either.

Not a Park Day

2010-03-18T16:05:00.000-07:00

This week I haven't been able to work out every single night... but I haven't given up. I've been doing sort of an every other night replacement plan. I feel a little guilty about it since I did commit to doing every night, but something had to give.
It has been a busy week. Since the weather has been nice, we've made a few efforts to go the park, both ending in me deciding that it wasn't in fact warm enough. Yesterday I really regretted taking Elijah... It sounded like such a good idea, and by looking out the window it seemed like the perfect way to spend our afternoon. Well once you tell a three-year-old something, there's no turning back. After the park idea flew out of my mouth he was completely on board! We got on our shoes, and coats and stepped outside where we were greeted with multiple whooshes of Post Falls wind. I wanted to turn right around and head back in the house, but I told myself we could just stay at the park a short while and then come home for some hot cocoa. Good plan, right?
When we arrived at the park, Elijah shouted out, "Are we going to play at the castle park?" His excitement was pure and I knew then that my plan would be more than difficult to carry out. The "castle park," as he calls it, just happens to be surrounded by great white pines which create an enormous amount of shade- perfect for the sweltering days of summer, not so much for the cool afternoons of spring.
I loaded Owen into the stroller as Elijah bounced nearby, ready to zoom all the way to the top of the castle. As soon as I got Owen buckled in, we pushed our way over blankets of fallen pine needles to the playground. By the time we Elijah ran across the bridge for the third time, my hair, which had been pulled into an up do, was flying about recklessly and obscuring my view. I kept trying to tuck it behind my ears, but it was no use. A few of the daddies there, to my shocking surprise, were sporting shorts! They must be crazy! It was only about fifty degrees and in the shade with the wind! I only lasted about another fifteen minutes. We were shivering, and I was dreaming about a hot cup of cocoa! This however, did not appeal to Elijah.
I gave him the usual fair warning, "Okay Elijah, you get to go down the slide three more times... two more times... okay, last time!" After he'd finished his "last time" he was running around to sneak in an extra round in. I intercepted him, reminding him that it was now time to go. "But mommy," he protested, "I can't stop playing!" The way he said it was like he was actually unable to stop playing... I wanted to laugh, but I put on my stern mommy face and said, "You can stop playing. It's time to go now, come on." I motioned toward the car. He looked at me, then back at the stairs in front of him leading to the castle bridge. In a split second he made his mischievous decision and headed up the stairs. I caught him with one arm and slung him onto my "baby shaped" hip. He wasn't expecting this... he thought he could get away with one last victory down the slide, and when I surprised him the tears began to flow! The entire park got to experience his wails and screams of the unfairness of life. We got halfway to the car when I realized my "baby shaped hip was made mostly for babies, and I couldn't carry this big boy any longer. I set him down and requested that he walk the rest of the way. I continued pushing Owen in the stroller, but Elijah stood frozen under the tall shady pine trees with his mouth open as wide as possible screaming in disbelief. I thought he would follow me to the car. I had seen other mother use this tactic. You know the one: "Okay, I guess I'll just leave without you," they say, and their kid follows out of fright at being left behind. I don't generally like this tactic mostly because it is based on a lie: I would never actually leave my child somewhere, and wouldn't want them to think that... but that is a whole other story. He didn't move from that spot. I stood wishing it had been warmer, wishing I could have let him play longer, then wishing we hadn't come at all. I did the only thing I could do... I marched back over the blanket of pine needles, scooped up my distraught child and proceeded to the car, pushing the stroller with arm and holding him tight in the other. The ride home wasn't quiet, but it warm.
Today we went to play at the mall where the wind doesn't blow, and there are no pine trees.

Waiting for Routine to become Routine

2010-03-10T21:21:00.000-08:00

In the past, my efforts to get in shape have lacked consistency. (I'm hoping this is my only downfall) The only time I can remember sticking with the same workout pattern on a daily basis was when I signed myself up for weights class in high school. I have to admit that I really did love that class as odd as it may sound. Me in weight class? yep. Lifting weights isn't all about bulking up, but I was one of three girls which turned into just two of us in the middle of the first quarter.

When working out becomes part of your daily routine, you can't help but enjoy it. I've known this truth ever since I forced myself to take that class. Your body begins to thrive on the extra energy, and I know there are endless benefits. The beginning is always the hardest. It's not routine yet... not grained into your system as something that must be done such as: the laundry or dishes. But once it is- it IS. I'm not there yet. In fact, I've already had some rough days when I've questioned the purpose, when I've wanted to give up. However, I am proud to say that I have made halfway through my second week of this personal fitness challenge! That's eight days of sweat!
Some tips:
Don't be too hard on yourself: This rule is a must for any challenge. If I don't get through my entire step video, I don't beat myself up. The point is that I made an effort. I'm also not crazy about rationing food or restricting myself into a corner. I try to eat healthfully, in moderation, and allow myself a treat here and there.
Eat what you like: You will never stick with it if you are forcing yourself to eat food you can't stand. Pick the vegetables that you actually enjoy eating. I can't get enough red peppers! And here's a little trivia: fresh red peppers are packed with more vitamin C than oranges, broccoli, and papaya!
Have Fun! If you aren't enjoying yourself, you need to pick a different kind of workout, trust me there is something out there that will make you love getting into a well fitting sports bra! Wear fun clothes too that make you feel great. Forget the baggy sweats and loose t-shirts. Even if you aren't in shape yet you will look and feel better in tight fitting clothes that support you. Of course I do my work out in the privacy of my living room so I don't have to worry about any one seeing me in me tiny red shorts and black and white perfect sports bra.

With consistency and a positive attitude, anything can be done!

Sweaty and Sore

2010-03-05T18:38:00.000-08:00

After five days of sticking with my workout regiment (sweating and panting for 30-45 minutes every evening) I am feeling sore in places I haven't been able to feel in months. Everything hurts... but in a good way. At least I know something is happening, my body is reacting to all of this effort and those muscles that have been buried under all that "baby weight" are really there after all.
I really feel it when I have to bend down, or squat to lift up my twenty-two pound baby! Whoo! He's half of my workout... can't wait for him to start walking so I won't have to lug him every where. And I know what you're thinking, I'll regret that statement when he's running around tearing down my bookshelves etc. But I'm aware, and believe me when I say I would much rather have him running. As it is, my right side is getting particularly strong from continually lifting him to my hip.
So, I've completed my first week of what I'm calling "March Madness," and I have to say I feel a certain pride knowing that I have stuck with it this far! One week doesn't sound like a lot, but everyday I have to remind myself why I'm doing this and that I'm worth it. The exercise that goes on in my mind is far more than what actually happens once I turn on that cardio step video. I think we can all identify with the truth that the emotions behind making a change are far more challenging than the change itself. For me it is self-confidence: that has been my life-long struggle. I'm recognizing that I have very negative self-talk, which affects every part of my life. This is what I truly need to change. Accomplishing reasonable goals is a good start.

I have the advantage of a personal motivator... his name is Elijah and he's three. He refers to my workout as "the moves." When he remembers, he'll plead with me, "mommy can I do the moves with you...please!" At first it was a bit challenging and distracting having him bouncing around next to me and running circles around me. Now we've worked out some rules. I lay a small blanket of his out on the floor and that is his space. He's allowed to stand up, sit up, or whatever he wishes, but he has to stay on the blanket. I also put out an array of other activities that keep him occupied when he starts to get bored, such as stamps, coloring pages, picture finds, etc. This system works pretty well. It's not quite as effective as the days when I do it alone, but I like the company. It's surprising how much he picks up. He's the sort of kid that sees everything in black and white, rules are rules and you have to follow them precisely. Sometimes while I"m doing the video he'll tell me things like, "mommy you have to put your water bottle in front of the step, just like her!" or heaven forbid I stop the video and do my own cool down! tonight he almost threw a fit saying, "but mommy it's not over yet! You have to turn it back on!" when I decided to stretch on my own. He's such a character and a great reminder of why I want this so badly. I want to run outside with him and be a great example of health, so he never has to worry.

Get the Sensation: March Madness- Day 3

2010-03-03T17:50:00.000-08:00

My MARCH MADNESS Challenge:
To work out every weeknight in March and burn some major calories to sculpt my mommy body into something desirable.

It's day three and I'm feeling pretty good. Obviously not a lot has changed on the outside... but surprisingly, I've noticed some differences on the inside. I am constantly taking captive my thoughts about the wrong kinds of foods. I didn't realize before how much I crave sugary things, and also how often I eat when I'm not really hungry. While sitting on the couch watching a favorite show, I can't help think about something munchy to pop in to my mouth. The solution- sugar snap peas. They are crunchy and virtually free of calories... not to mention their surprisingly sweet taste.
My other little rescue weapons are York peppermint patties! Mmm! I allow myself two per day, and they are totally satisfying. They take care of the chocolate craving with minimal fat, and boy do I "get the sensation!" That melt in your mouth creamy mint patty covered in dark decadent chocolate frees me from the insanity I would otherwise face had I chose to attempt this quest without them.
I also rewarded myself today by purchasing a new sports bra! Yay! There's nothing better than feeling supported when you work out! Can't wait to use it... and the stability roller I couldn't pass up. It's suppose to help tone my abs, which will be great once I can find them!
Today is another great day to work out and feel great! And Get the Sensation... in every way possible!

March Madness: Day One

2010-03-01T19:24:00.000-08:00

Today has been a busy day, and I haven't even gotten to my work-out yet. I plan to do that immediately after I am done here.
This morning I went to the grocery store alone. That in itself was like a fantasy. It's amazing to actually get everything thing on the list, not to mention an experience without screaming and constantly hearing myself say, "don't do that," or "stop bothering your brother!" It was early enough that there were few shoppers out. I could think clearly to myself, and more importantly, I could actually hear myself think! Excited for this commitment to health and changing my body this month (My March Madness) I cheerfully loaded the cart with all things colorful from the produce department, as well as various other hearty foods. When I got to the check-out counter I realized all I had to do was stand there and wait for the checker to scan my items. This hasn't happened to me in a LONG time. Usually this segment of time... the waiting in line part... is pure torture due to my bouncy I have to touch everything three year old. I felt so proud wheeling my cart out to the car, and for the first time in months, I even remembered to use the reusable bags!
While my trip to the store was successful, back at home I had expected my husband to put my one year old, Owen down for his morning nap so that he would be alert for a morning appointment. I even set a timer so he wouldn't have to remember on his own, but I came home to what you might imagine a house full of boys would look and sound like. No, Owen did not get his nap, but as usual I told myself it would work itself out. His appointment went well, but yes he fell asleep on the way home, which if you know anything about nap schedules... falling asleep in the car is a complete catastrophe. However, I chose to simply look back at my precious baby and admire him all the way home, knowing full well the challenge awaiting us as soon as the car stopped moving and sat parked in the driveway. Of course he did wake up, but surprisingly I as able to lie him down with ease. The factor I didn't figure in was his older brother who just got a new kangaroo climber that is set up in the living room. Owen shortly woke up due to the load banging on the little blue slide, but I'm not complaining.
My days are always crazy, and unpredictable. No matter how hard I try to plan things out, or time it all just right, something always takes me by surprise. Sometimes they are good surprises and sometimes it's things like cleaning two boys bottoms when I expected to only have to clean one. (still working on the potty training). Good and bad just go hand in hand I suppose; I'll take it that way.
Note: If you too are on a quest to re-shape your body, try to surround yourself with positive people. I also learned a small lesson today about sharing too much indirect info. with my son. I was looking in the mirror and complaining that I need to get rid of my belly. Well all day he kept reminding me of that. He kept saying, "mommy you need to get rid of that belly!" I know it's my own fault, but no one wants to hear that! So lesson learned I will be careful what I say out loud!

MARCH MADNESS!

2010-02-22T13:17:00.000-08:00

Next Monday, March the first, I will be starting out on a quest and I am inviting you to come along. I have spent the past two weeks mentally preparing for it and just like any challenge, when it comes down to it, you just have to take the first step and do it.

I am calling it MARCH MADNESS for MOMMIES and here is the challenge:

To work out every weeknight in March and burn some major calories to sculpt my mommy body into something desirable.

It may sound simple, but for me this is huge! I will be posting regular updates... you are my accountability, I haven't enough courage to go to the Gym! I have a couple basic workout videos that I am counting on ( Kathy Kaehler's Total Fitness Workout and Fitness Class).

Why am I doing this? Well, first of all I've alleviated all of my excuses:

-not having the time: for me, once my two boys are asleep I have just the right amount of time to get through a 45-minute workout and shower before my husband gets up to work the night shift. Finding the right time is key. Before I always told myself that I didn't have time, and therefore never made any.
-Not knowing how to workout: Well the video takes care of this for me. I have been preparing myself by doing the video 3 times a week for the past few weeks and I love it so far. The instructor is very encouraging and the moves are basic.
-doing something for me: At first you might think this doesn't sound like an excuse, but I know I am not alone in feeling like I am not worth the time and effort it takes to accomplish a goal like this one. Moms and Women in general I think, struggle with this and that is why I want you to come along for the ride. We are worth it and it is within our grasp to look and feel fabulous every day.

My other reasons for doing this include:
-a desire to be healthy and have energy to play with my children
-finally getting rid of that muffin top!
-my baby just turned one feb. 4 and the "mommy body" needs to go
-my husband and I are celebrating our 5th anniversary this June and I want to feel and look better than I did on our wedding for the special trip we are taking to Seattle.
-lastly I just want to prove to myself that I can do it!

Note: In addition to my workout regimen I will be trying my best to eat healthy. This is going to be the hardest part honestly. I love sweets! It's my biggest downfall, and we all know that sugar is the number one enemy! But I also know that complete deprivation only ends up in a series of binges, so I am going to make some allowances for myself.

Allowances/Rewards:
-once a day I will allow myself a small treat such as one dove dark chocolate or one milano dark chocolate cookie
-once a week, if I have completed all five workout sessions, I will reward myself with my favorite drink from dutch brothers
-I will also continue my daily intake of chai tea... just can't live without it!

Sunrise Cuddles

2010-02-16T19:51:00.000-08:00

After having kids, you'll never have to set an alarm clock- ever again (at least until they are teenagers I suppose).
My mornings begin a little after six (sometimes before depending on the day) when my three-year-old saunters into my room, his favorite blanket tucked in his arms along with as many stuffed animals as he can carry. I pretend I don't hear him, that he's just part of my dreams. Sometimes he'll climb up the side of our king size bed, usually asking for assistance, and snuggle under the covers with me for a few minutes. That's when I take it all in. I know those moments are growing more and more few and far between. He never waits longer than five minutes to start his prodding, after all he's had ten hours of energizing sleep, he's ready to rev the engines of PLAY! "mommy... it's light outside," he usually begins with, "it's time to get up, come Onnnnn!" Sometimes, if he's really eager, he'll pull the covers off, or even worse, turn the light on. Our bedroom is like a sweet hibernation cave due to the cardboard in the window that we put up when Martin started his night shift. I groan and moan as my little guy pulls me out of bed, but secretly I'm enjoying every bit of it. Who else gets such a wake up call, with someone just longing to be with you wanting to start their time with you at the mornings first instant?
As soon as we are out in the living room where the sun's rays shimmer through the windows, he says, "See told ya... it's light outside!" and smiles with his whole face. I sigh and rub my eyes. "You're right," I say, "I guess it's time to start our day."
The problem is, I've never been a morning person. I dream about staying in bed all day... or at least until sometime reasonable (especially on Saturdays, but that's another thing about kids- they don't understand the concept of "Saturday" so yes, even on the weekends us parents get up at six). I've learned to adjust. In fact, I can hardly sleep past 7:30 on the occasions when Martin is home and gets up with the boys. But I know the ironic truth: someday I will miss these early mornings, the prodding, the exclamation that the sun is in fact up, therefore we must get up too, and most of all the sunrise cuddles.

Corny Valentines

2010-02-12T19:37:00.000-08:00

Martin and I are the kind of couple that other couples call corny. We've danced at restaurants where there isn't dancing. We give each other hand-made presents. And yes, more than once a year someone is served breakfast in bed.
I was thinking about Valentines Day today... how could I avoid it? We've never been able to do anything "big" for any holiday really, especially not one that doesn't require traveling to see family or a day off from work. About a month ago, I decided that this year we were going to do something. I didn't know exactly what, and I knew yet again not much money could be put towards it, so I told Martin, "We can each spend ten dollars on each other. Do whatever you want, but you can't spend more than that." It may seem silly, setting aside ten dollars, and you may be wondering, what can you do with ten dollars? Well I'm not about to tell you that I did some surprising wonderful, magical thing with my ten dollars because that's not really the point. It could have been one dollar, I just wanted to be allowed the freedom to do something.

Love is often expressed without monetary means at all. Our first Valentines Day as a couple, we weren't even able to spend together. We had been dating for eight months. I was a senior in high school and he was away at college. I sent him a poem that I had rolled up and stuffed into a abstract looking bottle. But of course I couldn't leave it plain, (here comes the frosting of corniness) I had to decoupage pictures and love quotes all over the outside of the bottle and tie ribbons around the mouth of the bottle near the cork. It was a work of art, and symbol of my love for him!
So as I thought about what I wanted to do with my ten dollars, about a thousand things came to mind... many of them however, required a babysitter (a major difference between Valentines passed and now). I thought of taking a long stroll downtown with two hot cups of coffee and pumpkin scones. I thought of buying some fabric paint and making him a t-shirt that would read: "Thief" on the front and "you stole my heart" on the back... I know... corny. But he wouldn't care, he would have worn it proudly and he probably would have even made people read it, telling them that his wife had made it for him.
That's just us. We're not the couple who does extravagant things in order to impress each other, or out-do one another. We know our love is real. Valentines Day is really just another day. I like to think of it as an excuse or a reminder to show each other our love. It's a big blinking red heart saying, "be grateful for the love in your life, and don't forget to share some in return!"
Yes, I did finally decide what to do for him. It's nothing big or flashy, and you know exactly how much I spent on it. It's corny... and he's going to love it!

Our Impossible gift

2010-02-09T18:28:00.000-08:00

We've lived in our house for just over ten months now, and the newness of it still hasn't faded. I can't get over how perfect it is for our family of four; three bedrooms, two bathrooms, hard wood floors and a beautiful kitchen complete with new stainless steel appliances and a granite tiled island. I'm still amazed at how it all worked out, and I still feel like I don't deserve it.
Last February, we had just welcomed our second baby boy into the world and we were living graciously in the empty home of church family who were gone temporaily. The plan was to find our own place to live sometime in March, most likely another apartment. But I had vowed to leaving the "home searching" up to Martin, my hubby, hoping that would eleviate the stress, and with a new baby, I really didn't have any extra energy.
Martin made a few calls after looking through the newspaper one Saturday morning and then asked, "Do you want to go look at a house?" A house? Had he lost his mind? First of all I knew there was no way we'd be able to afford anything on the market, second of all, I had a two week old baby in my arms and house hunting didn't sound all that appealing.
I humored him anyways.
He promised it would be fun just to get out of the house and it couldn't hurt just to look.
It could hurt.
Though the house was unfinished, as soon as I walked in the door, I had fallen in love with it. It had vaulted ceilings, and felt so open, but yet cozy too. I could easily imagine the boys playing in the living room, and making a splash in tub of the nicely sized bathroom. As I walked through the rest of the house I began to do the numbers in my head, but no matter how I worked it, there was no way we could afford this house.
On the way home I couldn't help but wish there was a way."What do you think?" Martin finally asked.
"I love it!" I said half smiling. I couldn't deny it, but what could we do?
"That's all I needed to know," he said.
Over the next month he worked with the bank. Under God's good graces we qualified for a loan just over the price of the house. I couldn't believe it. I felt like I had just been handed the keys to the door of impossibility. I had been ready to accept renting again, though I dreaded it.

We moved in the middle of April into the little brick-faced house on Iago street. The boys do play effortlessly every day in the spacious living room, and make a splash out of bathttime in their very own bathroom, and every night when I'm turning out the last light in the house I thank God for this impossible gift.

Grey's Anatomy: Ease the Loneliness

2010-02-08T22:33:00.000-08:00

I started this blog partially due to the fact that ever since my husband starting working nights, I find myself functioning differently. He leaves around 9:30pm every night. The house is quiet with only the ticking of our kitchen clock.
A few nights a week I occupy my time with addictively staring at the T.V. watching old seasons of Grey's Anatomy play on the screen (thanks to Netflicks). Of course I knew this would happen, I had almost planned the whole thing... my addiction to Greys Anatomy, that is. Once he told me that the night shift job looked promising, I made him promise me Netflicks, and then the affair began. I knew I would need something to keep me distracted from the loneliness.
And it worked.
The first few weeks I happily distracted myself with the first season. It had me laughing and crying, and undenyably falling easily in love with the whole silly ordeal. As soon as both boys were asleep, I'd grab my snack of choice, or a cookie I'd been hiding and dreaming about all day, situate myself on our heavenly comfortable couch and as soon as the theme music sang in my ears I wouldn't feel alone anymore. I felt like my living room was full of friends. Though my day may have taken many unexpected turns like cleaning up 3-year-old messes, and running to the store hoping the last diaper holds until the new ones are paid for, I could count on my "friends" being there for me when the house again was quiet.
I realize it's sort of a silly indulgence, and that I do need some actual human friends to come be in my living room, but a little retreating can't hurt. That's where I've decided to set my limits, on a little retreating. I have to admit that some nights I couldn't bring myself to push the stop button. It wasn't just because I needed to find out what happens next, but it was that feeling when you're at your best friends house and you just don't want to leave. You stay an extra hour or two, lunch becomes dinner, and when you finally bring yourself to put on your shoes, it's so dark you can't see where you parked your car.
So you get the idea, I have fake T.V. friends who I have the power to keep hostage.
But now, when the house is quiet I need more than that. So I am limiting my guilty pleasure. My goal is to allow myself one episode per sitting. Quiet time beyond that, I have to fill with something else...writing this blog for instance.
p.s. currently I'm on season four... Derek is dating Rose! Ugh! He better get his act together! (I'm not obsessed, really)!