The Foster Circus

Why Are They So Strange?

2012-02-01T10:58:00.000-06:00

There are intermittent times where I pacify myself into thinking that my family is normal. I shield my eyes and try to forget the crazy parts. This doesn't last long, but it's nice to pretend.

Child #1 has decided she wants a hedgehog. Who asks for that kind of pet? I had the audacity to inquire if it was similar to a porcupine. She looked at me with utter horror and refused to answer my question.

Child #2 has been trying to talk to birds. Oh yes. It's true. I have watched her stand at the bus stop for the last several days while she mimics the bird calls overhead. Last week I even caught her trying to walk like the birds that had landed on the grass.

Child #3 has taken to wearing the same pair of jeans. Every. Single. Day. It's maddening. I've tried hiding them. That went well.

The Husband has taken his chap stick obsession to a new level. He is now wearing a cherry flavored lip balm. Now he constantly smells like a fruit salad. It's weird and slightly unnerving.

Have you ever noticed that calm, soft-spoken parents tend to have calm, soft-spoken children? If that theory rings true, then whose to blame for my family's oddness? Hmm?

Holding On To Grace

2012-01-24T17:35:00.000-06:00

For the last 10 or so years, I've had the same New Year's Resolution: To floss more than I did the year before. So far, I've made little progress. Sad, but true. I'm starting to think that I need to change my strategy or change my goal. Either way, I still probably won't floss. Sometimes I'm just an underachiever.

Other than this elusive one goal, I don't really make resolutions. I don't believe in them. I don't think they really hold weight after January 15th. So why make 'em? But, I do set one solid focus for myself. Something I really want to give my attention to for the year. If you've been reading around here for long, you'll remember that 2011 was the year for me to "Do Less, Be More". Looking back, I think I achieved stellar success in Doing Less. Being More fell a little to the wayside.

By the start of every new year, I tend to have in mind what my focus will be. It's just something I tend to 'know'. But, 2012 has stumped me so far. Maybe it's because I forgot to Be More last year and now I'm paying for it.

I've read a lot about Grace lately. The kind that only He offers freely. It's a gift I think I often overlook as belonging to me. Grace is something for everyone else, I can't seem to absorb it's blessings into my own skin. I don't know why Grace is hard to hold on to. And I don't think I'm the only one that can't keep her grasp tight.

We read about Grace, we listen to others teach about Grace. We even speak about it as if we have taken it as our own. But have we really? Have we taken His Grace and planted it deep in our soul? Have we let it heal wounds and comfort our flaws? Have we let it soften our mistakes and give us hope for what He brings?

I think that this year I want to 'Hold On To Grace'. It looks fairly easy written down in words. But living with what you hold is a whole other thing. It takes knowledge and work and patience with yourself. It requires us to examine and change while finding joy in the process. Sounds just a bit daunting.

But what if we collectively held on to Grace together? What if we could each stand still and accept His offering? That kind of strength just might make our grasp a little easier and a little lighter. Just as Grace should be. Just as He intended.

May we each find Grace this year.

Together.

A Different Someday

2012-01-21T12:00:00.001-06:00

I remember a time in my life where all I wished for was for everyone to be old enough to feed themselves and buckle their own seat belts. At that season of my life, those thoughts felt like a 'someday' that would never come. I could hardly imagine a life where I wasn't dressing little people and making bottles.

Now that 'someday' is here, ever present. My little people are now big people who can buckle their own seat belts while simultaneously fighting over reserved seats in the car. I no longer dress them, I simply stare at all the clothing they leave on every surface of the floor. Instead of spending my time making bottles, I drive in endless circles shuttling everyone here, there and everywhere.

Back then, in my season of little ones, I thought that this 'someday' would somehow be different. A good different. A life-will-be-so-much-better different. And guess what? It's just different. Not better, not worse, just different. One exhausting chore has simply been traded for another. Little people tantrums simply grow into teenage melt downs. Not better. Just different.

I think we tend to view the future with relief. We wish away the hard parts of today with a firm belief that next month, next year, next season will be better. We convince ourselves that because it will be different than today, it will therefore be so-much-better. But change has never equated to better. And next month, next year has never promised a new 'someday'. That has to come from a place within and not a season of life.

I see things differently now than I did back then. Experience, age, mothering, enduring. It all tends to change my viewpoint. But most of all, it changes me. Not the season, not the year, not even my everyday tasks. They have changed me. That's the perfect kind of different. The one with purpose and promise. 'Someday' is today, I just have to have the patience not to wish it away.

It's All In My Head

2012-01-18T12:51:00.000-06:00

I haven't been motivated to write. I can't really put my finger on the reason for it. I just haven't been able to force myself to sit, type and use my brain all at the same time. It's weird. This has never happened to me before. Writing is just like breathing for me.

My sister is convinced that my mental health is unstable. Which, let's be honest, how far of a stretch is that thought? What if I'm just old and my brain is tired? Endless hours of arguing with a teenager on why-she-can't-have-a-car-when-she-turns-16 is utterly exhausting. How many ways can you say, "There is no more money. You've taken it all."? Maybe I need to learn that phrase in three other languages. Might help.

I have considered the possibility that there just hasn't been anything going on to write about. Would you believe it? Me neither. We deal in crazy around here. That's just something that never goes into remission.

About 2 weeks ago, I decided to say only 'nice and non-condescending' things to my sister for a full day. So, I just didn't talk to her. At all. She would call me on the phone and I'd just hang up. The next morning I called her to list off all the things I had refrained from saying the day before. It cleansed my soul.

Last weekend, child #2 made it into Region Choir. I was so excited for her, I started screaming. When I told her I was proud of her, she just looked at me weird and said, "Why?" Maybe she thinks my mental health is unstable too.

Todd switched the phone/internet/TV to a new company. It changed everything on the TV and turned off the phone. Totally serious. Haven't had a dial tone on my phone for days. Todd is all sorts of popular around here. But this morning, I found the silver lining to all this--the Principal can no longer have me on speed dial. Somehow, that brings me an enormous amount of peaceful comfort.

Here's to staying motivated. Time will tell.....

What The Holiday Brings

2011-12-31T14:27:00.001-06:00

I have a love/hate relationship with the Christmas holiday. There is so much I love and yet, so much I loath. Every year I seem to loath just a teeny bit more. Maybe I'm old. Scratch that, I'm totally old. Christmas wears me out. On all levels. By the time the day actually arrives, the Christmas magic has fizzled right out.

This year I decided to take note of all things magical, entertaining and downright irritating. Here goes:

* I have no idea where the idea ever started that Santa is a man, because that is a ludicrous idea. I've come to believe that he is simply the token pretty boy that sits in a chair talking to the children. Mrs. Claus is the real Santa, and she doesn't have one free second to spare to sit and talk with the wee ones about presents. She is too stinkin' busy taking. care. of. everything! She's the one who sends Mr. Claus out to sit in a chair so so he'll get out of her way and have something to do. Enough said.

* I swear, cross my heart hope to die, I'm not putting up a tree next year. Or ornaments. I think I lost brain cells putting all those ornaments back into the boxes they were removed from only 3 weeks ago. Peace on Earth can still be felt without a decorated tree. I'm just sure of it.

* There is a certain prideful satisfaction in buying your child the perfect gift. Even if you spent more than you know is logical. Smiles simply speak volumes.

* I've spent this entire week returning half the items I worked so hard to find/buy in the first place. I think the Santa that visits this house needs to just give money from now on. Why, oh why, have I yet to try this solution? I'm thinking quarters for everyone next year. Lots of quarters.

* In between festivities, Todd went to the eye doctor. Mr. doctor suggested bi-focals. That little fact has given me the giggles for days.

* Games. They are the heart and soul of this holiday. I've almost peed my pants twice this week. I'm considering surgery.

Enjoy the last day of the year. I'm planning a nap.

A Christmas Feast

2011-12-24T14:51:00.000-06:00

Doesn't everyone eat a gingerbread house for breakfast? If you happen to have a sister who is crazy enough to let her child sleep at your house, you do. I may, or may not, have let her pick off a pound of frosting and candies and eat that too. Just sayin'.

For tomorrow's breakfast we may just eat an entire candy village. If so, I will make them drink milk along with it. Only responsible and proper mothers make their kids drink milk.

Enjoy your holiday. We are :)

Cupcake Love

2011-12-21T14:16:00.000-06:00

When you tell the Internet how much you love cupcakes, it listens. And when the Internet is related to you, cousins perhaps, it sends you goodness.

This arrived by email. I might need to have it printed on a 6 foot tall canvas and hung in my family room:

And this arrived in my mailbox. My favorite Christmas ornament to date:

I think I might start telling the Internet that I love Nannies and House Keepers. Then I'll just wait for one to show up at my door.

When There's Too Much Time

2011-12-20T14:03:00.000-06:00

When school is out, craziness sets in. All of a sudden, the children have too much time on their hands. After endless sibling fights over what to watch on TV, they have to get creative.

Child #3 decided to write a letter to Santa:

"I hope I get what I want." Such a sentimental way to start a letter. Don't you agree?

Child #1 decided to make an artistic sketch of our family wearing Christmas sweaters:

My favorite part? Todd has now become 'Toddy'. Oh, how he luves that name.

Here is her Night Before Christmas rendition. I told her that it looks like Rudolph pooped out a Santa and sleigh:

I hope you are finding good use for your holiday days. If you're bored, I have some children who could provide you with art lessons. :)

Love Without Words

2011-12-14T12:58:00.000-06:00

Resolutions

2011-12-12T14:11:00.000-06:00

Child #2 had a particularly stellar day yesterday. Her moods tend to shift with the winds, so I never know what's going to happen from one moment to the next. While sitting next to her in church, I decided to lean over and whisper a question (I'm kinda stupid like that).

"Kellie, do you like me?" She immediately snapped her head in my direction with a sour look on her face. She stared at me for a minute and then replied, "Um....no". Totally super awesome. The crazy part is, her answer didn't surprise me. Why I even asked it in the first place is beyond me.

This special bonding moment lead me to start thinking about new year's resolutions. Normally I never make any. But this year, I just might. Here's what I've come up with so far. Keep in mind that these are goals I hope to righteously help my family achieve, all while speaking in my soft, loving mother voice:

Lie to your mother. If ever, and I mean ever, asked "Do you like me?", lie. Tell your mom you not only like her, but you love her. Even if you don't mean it. Oh, and when you feel the urge to say, "You never, ever listen to me!!", keep that to yourself.
Learn how to replace the toilet paper roll.
When walking up the stairs, instead of stepping over the pile of YOUR OWN clothes that are sitting there, actually pick them up and take them with you.
Say 'thank you' to your parents at least once a month. Yes, I know this is a pipe dream, but wouldn't it be nice to hear? I think those words might actually burn my kids lips if said aloud.
My wallet does not contain your money. It's my money. A completely new and bizarre concept.
For the love of all that's holy, please stop talking after 8:00 pm.

It's just a rough draft, but I think I've really got a good start. Don't you think?

Trimmed

2011-12-11T20:19:00.000-06:00

Yes, we just put the ornaments on the tree and December is nearly half over. Don't judge. I contemplated just leaving everything in the boxes and setting the huge container underneath the tree. I figured that as long as the tree and the ornaments were near one another, that's all that mattered. But, the 9 yr. old insisted that wasn't good enough.

Now I'm going to ask Santa to bring me an elf who will pack it all away on December 31st. I wonder if I'm on the naughty or the nice list?

Bits N' Pieces

2011-12-08T15:11:00.000-06:00

There are only 17 days until Christmas. Did you know? I'm in denial. I went to the mall yesterday and spent nearly a gazillion dollars. I left without feeling even the tiniest bit of Christmas Spirit. Fa, la, la, la, la.

Will it still feel like Christmas when I explain to my kids that Santa is feeling the economic pinch and so he is only bringing 1 present per person this year?

***

Child #3 told me that I look like Alice. The maid. From the Brady Bunch. Um, seriously?

***

I was given a lecture yesterday from my kids on why it's not cool to have your mom come in to your classroom when you're in 7th grade. I totally don't get it. Why can't I go in? What's the big deal? I asked what's so embarrassing about me and #3 (again!) replied, "Well, you have short hair and people with short hair creep me out." Children #1 and #2 laughed so hard, they choked.

***

For Today, See Only Love

2011-12-05T12:47:00.001-06:00

My dad is 67 today. At least, I think that's the right age. I might be off by a year. I can't really think about it long enough to figure it out. It makes my heart hurt too much.

I don't see him as 67. I see him at 63. The age when he left this world for another. But again, I can't really think about it too long.

For the last 4 years, I've never been sure what to do with this day. Proceed as normal? Whisper a happy birthday with my eyes shut tight and a wish to rewind? Nothing feels quite right. Maybe there is no right to be found. Hope and loss seem to float hand in hand.

My dad had a passionate view of family. He placed it above all else. Not his car, not his clothes, not his house or his favorite shows on TV. His family. He loved us most. That love has settled into the core of my soul. It has laid the foundation for who I am today and tomorrow.

Love is stronger than grief. I often forget that. It's brighter and more courageous, and has arms that reach wide. Love never wavers. Grief and sadness shift and move. That's why they catch our focus. The shifting hurts. At times, it's all we can see.

But Love stands ready, simply waiting, never moving. Today I reach out and grab her and let her arms hold tight. My heart hurts less when I stand still long enough to let Love work it's magic.

Happy Birthday dad. I think of you every. single. day.

Love with arms open wide.

#24

2011-12-03T16:19:00.000-06:00

I have an unnatural obsession for wreaths. I love them. I will admit that my collection is bordering on ridiculous. With that being said, here is the tutorial for wreath #24. I made it in an hour. Enjoy.

1. Styrofoam wreath (mine is the smallest version they make).
2. White felt.
3. Cut strips of the felt and wrap your wreath. I hot glued along the way.

4. Cut out oddles of leaves. (I made my own template.)
5. Hot glue in a staggered pattern. Cover the wreath.

6. Add ribbon to the back and hang.
7. Fluff out the leaf edges.

Amazingly cute and easy. How many wreaths do you have? If you have more than 24, I'm totally jealous. Maybe we should start a club. Or a support group.

A Drunken 9 Year Old

2011-12-02T15:02:00.000-06:00

The first visit to the dentist was a failure. With a capital F. 3 cavities, 1 large shot. The moment she saw the needle, she bolted from the chair. With hysterical screaming. Oh, and she ran. All the way to the front of the office so that everyone had a clear view of her and I arguing. Super fun.

Thus, we were sent to a 'special' dentist. He charges a 'special' price for 'special' children. They gave her a medicine that they reported was "like having 5 margaritas" (I tried to sneak some for myself, but darn it if I didn't have to drive home). 10 minutes later, they tucked her into a warm blanket, laid her in the chair and filled in her cavities with ease. It was fascinating to watch.

They told me to take her home and let her sleep it off. I could hardly get her to the car. She stumbled and swayed all while shoving off my attempts to help her walk straight. Once in the car she told me that she had no idea who I was and that her teeth felt like rocks.

She got up and started walking around in the van. While I was driving. I nearly had a heart attack. Good thing I didn't sneak any of the 'special' margarita medicine. Right?

She laid on the couch for 2 hours. She never moved. Not an inch. Sweet beauty. I think I might start requesting this medicine for more than just cavity fillings. Do you think I could get a 2-liter supply for Christmas break?

The Baby Turns 9

2011-11-28T20:15:00.000-06:00

When she arrived 9 years ago, I knew she was our final curtain call. She was the Circus wrap-up. Everything felt complete once she joined us. We became a whole.

I held her tighter, lingered longer. I kissed her bare feet and soaked in her baby fresh smell. I tried to push it all down deep into my bones. I just didn't want to forget.

And now, the baby grows older. Our families' daily life moves at such a frenetic pace, I seem to have forgotten all that I wanted to remember back then. Time has ticked away. She no longer needs to be held or fed every 3 hours. She moves at her own pace.

But today, on her birthday, I look at her and realize that she may not need it, but I do. I still need to hold tight and linger longer. I need to soak in every once of her 9 year old self. Because this very moment, this very girl, makes me complete. She has made me whole.

Happy Birthday my vibrant Addie. Thank you for being a part of me.

Turkey=Love

2011-11-27T12:25:00.001-06:00

It's hard to describe a Thanksgiving with family. ALL my family. In the same city, at the same time. I can't remember the last time that happened. It's been a week filled with cousins and fun and memories. Cherished time.

I hope your holiday week has been just as full of memory-making as ours. Giving thanks just feels more powerful when the ones you love are all seated in your kitchen. Forever grateful.

What If

2011-11-21T09:50:00.000-06:00

Have you ever considered what this holiday week would be like if the Pilgrims had fast food? Seriously, just think about it. What if the Indians had shown up and said, "Hey, we know a secret place. It's Indian name is Golden Arches. Put on your tall hats and bonnets and follow us. If you eat this food, you will never have to cook again." Just imagine a cornicopia full of big macs. The thought makes me tear up.

In every story version of the first Thanksgiving, I have never, ever read that all the pilgrim children stayed home from school for an entire week. When and how did this tradition start? Who was the first person that said, "I have a great idea. Let's plan a day where all you do is cook and clean dishes. And as an added bonus, let's cancel school so that all the children can stay at home to fight with their siblings and ignore their mother." Was there a point in time where that sounded like a good idea?

Every year I start a campaign to eat our Thanksgiving Feast at an all-you-can-eat buffet. I start early and campaign hard. And every year, my mom wrestles me to the ground and threatens my life. It's a fun little tradition. I think she finds great joy in scaring me. So, we cook.

I'm sure you're cooking too. And if you happen to be one of those people who get to go with the Indians to the Golden Arches, think of me. Please? If you close your eyes when you eat french fries, they taste just like turkey.

A Small Peek

2011-11-17T14:45:00.000-06:00

Do you remember when I mentioned that we were having family ~~nightmare~~ pictures taken? If you don't, you can read here.

Just thought I would offer you a little sneak peek:

And you have to wonder, what could Child #2 possibly be looking at? I honestly have no idea. But, I will say this-- at some point during the picture taking, Todd snuck off to pee in the woods. The Todd that used cheese for chapstick? Yes, that very one.

Sometimes, I really wish this family was normal.

Flaws And All

2011-11-16T13:27:00.000-06:00

Before the Todd and I got married, my parents tried to warn him what life with me would be like. They were subtle about it. They would say, "Listen, you're a really nice guy, you don't have to do this. You really, really don't." I think my dad even held Todd's shoulders and looked him straight in the eye while explaining, "You can back out at any time, we'll understand."

Now, all these years later, Todd says that if only they had described how loud I am, and that children would make my voice even louder, he would have run for the hills. But now, well, he's stuck. Grin and bear it. Like Moses.

Just like my parents all those years ago, he has now turned to subtle explanations of his own. Last night he and my sister told me, "You're so condescending, it should be your first name." Todd even decided that my new nickname should be Condelisa. It has a certain ring to it, don't you think?

So, in light of my over-dramatized character trait, I have a condescending story. About Todd. Ready?

First off, have I ever mentioned Todd's obsession with chapstick? No? Well, it's a full blown obsession. I think if he had to choose between chapstick and his family, he'd need a day or two to think it over. It really is that bad. So anyhow, a few days ago, he forgot to take his 'tube 'o love' to work. No chapstick. All day. He nearly broke from the stress of it all.

But Todd, being a grown up with an MBA, found a solution. He noticed that the cheese on his lunch potatoes were greasy. Grease and chapstick must be closely related because he wiped the cheese on his lips. Oh yes. On. His. Lips. He said it worked like a charm.

I'm stopping now. So I won't be condescending.
I'll let you do that all on your own.

Thoughts On Freedom

2011-11-13T20:21:00.000-06:00

I've tried to think about freedom these last few days. About veterans. It's hard to grasp the importance of something you don't have a direct connection to. I don't know many veterans and I've never had to fight for freedom. But they are valuable to me, these rights I only see violated in news clips. I recognize their significance and I'm grateful.

Addie sang in a program at school to honor veterans. It was patriotic and sweet. And I watched from my seat within a nice school in a free country. Sitting there, it was easy to cheer for freedom and liberty. It felt honorable even.

I may not know what it's like to live without freedom, but I do know what it feels like to have choices taken away from you. I may not know what death during war looks like, but I do know what it's like to have someone you love taken without your permission. So, when I think of patriotic liberty within the frame of what I can relate to, freedom becomes more tangible. Easier to hold and appreciate.

Maybe freedom would feel more free if we noticed it more often. Not just on a veteran's holiday once a year. Maybe it's power doesn't come from just the cost required to gain it, but in our collective gratitude in keeping it true. Not just veterans, not just soldiers, but all of us. Together.

Might we recognize our freedom. From the safety of our seat, in the audience of a free country. Look and see, and keep it true.

I Believe

2011-11-10T09:34:00.000-06:00

I'm a person who believes with full force. Once I have faith in something, it never wavers. I tend to believe so strongly, I try to ~~manipulate~~ persuade others to join me. My beliefs ooze out in every conversation. I just can't help it. I'm like a preacher spreading a message.

I have a tendency to rank my beliefs based on importance. Rankings can change given my current temperament. Although, Belief #1 rarely changes. It's just that true. Nothing else can knock it from that spot. It is this: Sugar can save the world. Mmm. Can you hear the words sing? That's truth you hear.

Nothing, and I mean nothing, can change attitudes or actions faster than sugar. Have you ever seen someone eating cake who was angry? I think not. Would your kids like you more if you let them dip their waffle in hot fudge? Definitely. What about terrorists? Could we soften their hearts with donuts? Don't you see- Sugar can save the world.

I also believe in silence. We can never have enough silence. I've tried to find a way to get my kids to stop talking. So far, no such luck.

Pills. I really, really believe in pills. They're like magic in a tiny coating. Everyone should be taking some. I should have been a pharmacist. Truly.

I believe in calling my sister when I'm having a bad day. Why? Because her's is always worse. Always. It cheers me right up. Yesterday, when I was not feeling well, I called her. Her 3 yr. old had just thrown up All. Over. Her. And as she stood up, with barf in her hair, someone rang the door bell. She answered it with throw up covering her clothes. See? Makes your day look brighter. Let me know if you're feeling blue and I'll give you her number.

I believe in Todd's ability to make me laugh. Just the other day, he described a time when he tried out for football. (I know, incredible, right?) He missed the day they handed out play books, so he had no idea what everyone was talking about in the huddle. And, he showed up to the first practice without all the pads on. True story. I laughed so hard I almost hyperventilated.

My belief list goes on and on. But for now, these rank at the top. What about you? What do you believe? If sugar is involved, I will cry with pride.

Fluids And Rest

2011-11-08T13:20:00.000-06:00

As the doctor handed me the prescription, he said, "Make sure you get plenty of rest and lots of fluids." I started to giggle. I couldn't help myself. Because, for real? Where exactly do you pick up some rest? I'm confused. Sick mom has never equaled rest. Sick mom simply means that her life is extra crappy until she feels better. Am I right?

For now, I'm drinking lots of fluids. Pepsi counts as a liquid, no? And I'm on the hunt for some rest. I even looked around Costco today to see if I can buy it in bulk. No such luck. If I find some, I'll spread the word. I promise.

Pause

2011-11-05T17:45:00.000-05:00

I've been looking for the Pause button. For at least a week now. Time and schedules and life have tumbled faster than I can keep pace. Days have drifted open and close, and every morning I still feel far behind. Life needs a Pause button, don't you think? Not a Stop or a Delete, but just a Pause.

Last night we drove 4 hours to sleep in a hotel and wake at the dawn to watch Sam run. The Region Meet held 25 teams from here, there and everywhere. We all huddled in the cold morning while our runners wore thin shorts and tank tops. They ran. We cheered. That's pretty much the routine.

Afterwards, we gathered to congratulate before we piled back into the car to reverse our 4 hour drive. And something miraculous happened. Life paused. All by itself.

Sister hugged sister, and smiled. The sight stood me still. I found my Pause within that moment. One that rarely occurs. Without my knowing it, Life found a way to clear the slate and hang a memory. It lasted mere seconds, but within that time, I found my breath again.

If you find yourself swimming through the busy and the crazy, look for your Pause. It may take time and careful attention, but today I learned that it's there. Right there, within reach. Look with your eyes and see with your heart. And then, take time to Pause.

The Ween

2011-11-01T13:24:00.000-05:00

I don't like trick or treating. There, I said it. I used to. Back when my kids held my hand and flew from house to house. That was fun.

Now, I find myself in the stage where Child #1 refuses to acknowledge she has a family, Child #2 thinks costumes are stupid but still wants candy and Child #3 will only wear bright lipstick and glasses while ignoring me on the treat route.

But here's where I hit the jackpot-- my sister's twins will still hold my hand. They still like me. So, last night, I grabbed two bumble bees, and hit the road. We walked slow along the treat streets and got bit by mosquitoes along the way. Every now and then I waved to my kids and they dutifully ignored me. It warmed my heart, so I ate more candy.

I hope you enjoyed your Ween. Maybe it was Hallo, or maybe it was sweet. Or maybe, you're just grateful it's over. My kind of Halloween. Now it's time to think about Christmas.

The Great And Terrible

2011-10-29T16:14:00.000-05:00

The definition of torture:

-Potty training.

-Asking a teenager to spend time with their family.

-Family Pictures.

I'm not sure why I force myself to endure family pictures year after year after year. I somehow convince myself that I will one day be grateful I pushed this event on everyone. Um, I've yet to reach that day. This morning, standing outside fighting with my kids, I almost stabbed myself with a sharp stick just so I could go to the ER and get away from them.

The end.

Just Because

2011-10-28T13:32:00.000-05:00

Just because she makes me proud.
Just because she ran at District on the Varsity team, as a Freshman.
Just because someone mentioned that she is just like me, and it made me smile.
Just because she is good. On her inside and her outside.
Just because she makes me a better mother.
Just because she is fierce and competitive and determined.
Just because she never gives up.

Just because she's my heart.

Shield Your Eyes

2011-10-26T13:31:00.000-05:00

If you are skweemish, easily offended or any level of prudish, please turn away. This post is not for you. For the rest of us, this is just straight awesome.

October is Gynecological Awareness month. Seriously. I have no idea how I've lived all these years without this knowledge. But, there are many perks to having a husband who works at a hospital. This kind of information is one of them.

I wonder how exactly you celebrate for Gynecological Awareness. Do you have cake? Maybe you hug an OBGYN. Hugs are nice. Much nicer than pelvic exams. Is there a ribbon you wear? And what color is it, peach? And how do you keep a straight face when someone asks you what your ribbon stands for? I think I might be more gynecologically confused than aware. No?

As a means of raising funds to support all things pertaining to a woman's nether regions, Todd's hospital is having a quilt auction. The quilts are currently on display so everyone can take a peek and make a bid. Todd has promised to buy this one (his favorite) for my mom. So she can hang it in her entry:

Yes, you are correct. This is a quilted version of the reproductive system. Mmm hmm. I wasn't kidding when I said this was straight awesome. Just imagine it's grandeur when my mom opens it on Christmas morning. I bet she cries.

My favorite part of this quilt is the ribbon. I'm a big fan of accessories, I've just never considered putting them over my fallopian tubes. Now I know that it looks good. Don't you agree?

Let me know if you want to try and out-bid Todd for this quilt. A little healthy competition is good for fundraising. Anything for Gynecological Awareness month, right?

The Ledge That Holds The Brave

2011-10-24T09:56:00.000-05:00

Most of our parenting is done on a plateau. An open field that we circle through over and over again. We travel the same course so often, the terrain becomes a part of us. It's just daily life. Lived, well, daily. The familiar.

That's the safe spot. That plateau that feels routine and normal. It's not easy work, this daily parenting, but here it is comfortable because we know it inside and out.

But at the far reaches of the field, there is a ledge. And there are times we are required to stand at it's margin and look over. This is when parenting is the hardest. When you stand on the ledge with fear and can't decide how to get back to the safe plateau.

Most often, the fear simmers there because we need to take action when all we want is to return to the familiar. Fear blooms when we need to make a course correction with a child, but don't know which one to take. It rises when we watch a daughter attempt something all on her own, no hand holding allowed. It takes root when we are required to un-cup our parent hands and loosen our grip. When our mind tells us to give them more freedom, but our heart wants to contain them in our grasp. Fear just weaves it's way through all of it.

And so we stand at the ledge and hold our fear in our hands while we wonder what to do. And we wait. We wait until we recognize that fear leaves no room for answers. They simply can't fit. So, we sift through that fear, and the closer we look, the more clearly we see that it is only a thin outer layer. Easily peeled away. And the core of what's inside, is brave. Fear was only a cloak.

We can only see the brave when we stand on the ledge. It's the only place we're forced to look for it. But, it's there. We just have to have the courage to wipe off the fear and grab hold of our brave. Only then will we be able see which course correction to make, how much freedom to give a child and how to keep them in our heart while slowly letting them go. That's when true bravery takes shape.

If you are on the ledge today, or any day for that matter, hold to your brave. Hold it true and hold it strong. It will keep you grounded and turn you back to safety.

My Answers

2011-10-20T13:11:00.002-05:00

The other day, I received one of those forwarded emails where funny things are said about pregnancy and hormones. Normally, I delete these. But, I found myself reading through it. And guess what I discovered? Every reply to each question just wasn't 'real' enough for me. So I took it upon myself to offer a better viewpoint. Enjoy (or not) my answers:

Q: Should I have a baby after 35?

Lisa Answer: Age should rarely be a consideration. The most important question you should ask yourself before deciding to have a baby: "Do I really want people around me who roll their eyes and tell me I'm ruining their life?" If you enjoy that kind of thing, go for it.

Q : I'm two months pregnant now. When will my baby move?

Lisa Answer: Here's where it gets weird-- When you're pregnant, you want the baby to move. Then, when they are a toddler, you want them to stop moving. Once the teenager arrives, they never move and you spend all your energy yelling (with a righteous voice) for them to start moving!

Q : What is the most reliable method to determine a baby's sex?

Lisa Answer: You pray, really super hard, and you have a revelation, directly from heaven, that you are going to have a boy. So then you know you are a righteous mother with a direct connection to Jesus and you go to Baby GAP and spend $200 on boy clothes. 2 months later your ultrasound reveals you are having a girl.

Q: My wife is five months pregnant and so moody that sometimes she's borderline irrational.

Lisa Answer: Seriously? Settle in for a new normal. And honestly, if you whine, even for one second, you'll be sorry.

Q: My childbirth instructor says it's not pain I'll feel during labor, but pressure. Is she right?

Lisa Answer: Um. Pressure is trying to decide whether to eat 2 or 4 pieces of cake. Childbirth feels like cutting off your arm with a plastic fork, all while your doctor and husband are at the foot of your bed discussing gun control. I wish I was kidding.

Q: When is the best time to get an epidural?

Lisa Answer: I'm thinking of starting a petition for insurance to cover a port to be installed under a mother's skin. Then, after you've given birth, the hospital is required to send you home with enough medicine to cover the next 18 years. I really think I'm on to something.

Q: Is there any reason I have to be in the delivery room while my wife is in labor?

Lisa Answer: Unless you are the doctor who will remove the baby, or the person who monitors my pain control, I could care less whether or not you're in the room. If you're not one of these 2 people, you're just eye candy.

Q: Is there anything I should avoid while recovering from childbirth?

Lisa Answer: Here's a secret-- Do everything, and I mean everything, to stay in the hospital for as long as you can. Even if you have to fake a seizure, do it. The longer you can stay there, the longer someone else will cook your meals and fetch you ice water. Once you step foot out of the hospital doors, it's over.

Q: Our baby was born last week. When will my wife begin to feel and act normal again?

Lisa Answer: This question is too stupid to even answer.

A Sprinkle Of Season

2011-10-19T12:54:00.000-05:00

They call it a 'Cold Front'. Which is funny, because a high of 72 degrees really isn't that cold. Around here, it's down right Siberia. Temperatures drop below 70 and the Texans break out the down filled coats and padded ear muffs. It's fascinating to watch. Like eskimos on parade. Except in Texas.

I wore long sleeves today. That's noteworthy. And a coat. Just to be safe from the frigid 70's air. And as I stood at the bus stop, all bundled up, I realized I still had on flip flops. The perfect Fall accessory.

Tonight it will be in the 40's. Brrr. I might have to break out the hot chocolate. Winter season is upon us (for the next 4 days).

A Thought For Your Soul

2011-10-17T13:02:00.000-05:00

Love Turns 3

2011-10-14T09:48:00.000-05:00

Three years ago today, they arrived. They entered our lives and we have never been the same. Thank heavens.

7 weeks after they were born, they took root in Texas. They were the miracle that outshined the turmoil. The calm in the storm. God gave them a mom that also has to be the dad and everything in between. I wonder if they'll ever truly know of her courage and strength? Somehow, the older they get, I think they'll see it. It's so very hard to miss.

It's difficult to describe what these girls have become to us. There aren't words. They are woven into our hearts. All of us. Life simply wouldn't be the same without them in it. They are a gift.

Happy Birthday to our Joy. Twice over.

The Stillness In Between

2011-10-13T14:05:00.001-05:00

I used to have it together. I mean, I used to have the time to get it together. Really. These days, time has become a precious commodity. I seem to find fragments of it here and there, but nothing sustainable. Therefore, I never have it together. Most often I feel like I'm grabbing the loose ends and gathering it all up at the last possible moment. Can you relate?

Time has been slowly draining away for the past couple of years. But now it feels like a downpour. I don't know if the cause is having a high school-er or just the mere fact that life and schedules have gone the far side of crazy.

I remember my life when my oldest barely fit her petite feet into small, white sandals. I had time then. Loads of it. Time enough to paint her toenails and visit storytime at the library. Now she wears heels and isn't home long enough to catch her breath, and I am running just to keep up with her. Somewhere between the then and now, time melted away.

Do you ever get a brain cramp just from looking at your calendar? Can I possibly be the only one? Surely not. Surely I'm not the only one who wants to grab her family and fold them into the stillness of time. To shut out the crazy and soak in the calm. Surely that is you too.

So, what's to be done? I'm really not sure. Life is still life. Schedules must be kept and carpools driven. Homework still arrives daily and dinner must be fed. There is no getting around it all. Maybe that's my problem. I'm trying to weave around life. I'm spending all my energy chasing every corner and task, but never really catching up.

I believe the answer lies in the stillness. The one that rests in between the driving, the cooking, the errands and the list making. It resides there, just waiting to be found. What if we spend our energy finding those spots? What if we look for the quiet admist the noise? I'm guessing we just might find time again. At least a cherished portion of it.

I think I'll stop trying to get it together. Reality is, as soon as I do, it will all untangle again. Don't you agree? So, I think I'll try standing still for awhile. Not long, but long enough. Surely if I'm quiet and turn my eyes away from the calendar, I'll find time waiting. Mine for the taking.

Let's all be still. Then we can find time together...

Dare To Be

2011-10-09T16:22:00.000-05:00

"Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogmas--which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become." -Steve Jobs

So often we live in a box. One of our own creation. And if you're me, you have a sister who points out that I live in a box that is clearly categorized and labeled into other boxes. True on all points.

I'm good at living in my box. I like it there. It's safe, and yes, organized. Anything outside of the box feels unrestrained and a little too free. I have no control over what resides out of bounds. Therefore, I'm afraid of it. But, what if Life and Living are out there? What if the borders of the box are just the beginning? What if there was no fear and no limitations?

I'm fascinated by those who embrace Life outside the lines. They seem to live lives that are unique. They appear to have a better hold on Living. One that I long for. So, I watch. From the safety of my carefully constructed box.

What if Living, real Living, isn't something you learn or even understand from watching at a distance? What if all it takes is acceptance? Maybe there is no secret to embracing Life. Maybe the only skill required is the courage to step beyond the boundary. Maybe there are no 'maybe's', there is only Being.

We must dare to Live. The moment we do, the very moment we decide to cross the threshold, that's when the box disappears. Walls come down and only courage remains. Oh, let us become. Oh, let us have the courage to Live.

Goings On

2011-10-07T12:24:00.001-05:00

** I hit my head. On the counter molding. Last night I bent down to move some shoes (which I knew Todd would trip over in his early morning hours--he's delicate, so I like to protect him) and I stood up quickly and slammed my head against the counter. Hard. My first thought, aside from the pain? "So help me, if there is blood in my hair and I have to wash it, I'm going to be ticked!" I think there's something fundamentally wrong with me.

** I chased a cockroach this morning. A giant one scurried through my bathroom and I chased it like it was a toddler. It escaped into the depths of my closet. My anger can not be contained. Maybe I have a concussion from hitting my head last night.

** I embarrassed my teenager. On purpose. I had been waiting in the school parking lot for 30 minutes. So, I marched into the locker room (where she was chatting with friends) and yelled at her to get in the car. You can imagine how well that went over. Once she was seated in the car, she and I had a real special bonding moment. It was unforgettable, really. As anger oozed out of her mouth I realized that teenagers speak a foreign language. It's so weird. There are endless ways to learn Spanish or French, so why isn't there a book to teach me what she is saying? Hmm?

** This girl. Oh, this girl. She refuses the spotlight and rarely slows down long enough to let me take her picture. But last night, she sang. With the choir, of course. But oh, she sang. And my heart sang right along with her.

**In case you have extra time, please jump over here and read. My favorite writer is showing you how to change the world. Every day in October. Be sure to back up to Day 1 and soak her words into your soul. And then, Change. The. World.

Running Has A Voice

2011-10-05T13:54:00.000-05:00

There is a lingo for Track and Field. It's a language that is still foreign to me. I hear parents (of the 'running is our life' variety) and coaches yell words and phrases as the kids sprint by. "Keep your eyes up!" is one of my favorites. "You got this!" comes in a close second. They are always words of encouragement molded into phrases of motivation. "Keep your pace" can be heard right along side "Let's pick it up. Go, go, go!"

I've decided that Life needs a lingo similar to Track and Field. Because, when you look at Life up close, we're all running. On our own course that only we can navigate. Wouldn't it be nice to hear "You're making great time, keep it up" every now and then?

Just think of how you would feel to know that someone stood on the sideline and watched your every stride? That could be a game changer. Whispered words of encouragement, especially when the track feels wide and empty, could help you sprint to the finish line.

So often we long to be small. To fold in on ourselves so that we don't have to face all the large parts of Life. Small feels easier and more peaceful. Less noise and heartache. Worry can't penetrate small because there is no room to fit. No wonder we long for it.

But Life is large. It's hard, it's exhausting and it's draining. But, it's also not defined by the trials we face on the course we run. Life spreads wide and covers us whole. She seeps into the cracks left by sorrow and fills them with joy and grace.

We can live large. We have to. Because being small really isn't living. It's simply existing. And we want more. We want to BE more. So, we run. We run when it's hard, we run when we feel alone and we run even when it all feels to steep to climb.

The sideline is there, it's just hard to see. He stands at the ready. Where else would He be? He set you on this course and promised to cheer you on. So, He does. There are others there as well. They cheer too. Even as they try to run their own pace. If we have the courage to listen, I know we'll hear them. "You got this! Keep your eyes up! Keep your pace!"

Live large and embrace your race. After all, you're not alone. You never were. "Focus and head to the finish."

Homecoming

2011-10-02T14:25:00.003-05:00

Apparently, times have changed. Dates are now optional at high school dances. That makes me feel old. Truly. Groups and friends are now the norm. Thus, Homecoming this year was a friend fest.

Two months ago, school dances were never on my radar. I foolishly thought they were something I would worry about when she reached dating age (a mere year away). Imagine my surprise when I discovered that my ideas are now considered old-fashioned.

The cost of a dress hasn't changed. Nor has the anxious fever of finding the 'right' shoes and having the 'right' hair. I now have a new appreciation for my mother, but don't tell her.

Watching your daughter segue into a more grown up life is an interesting thing to witness. Some days it feels seamless. But on others, it feels monumental in weight. It's on those days that I want to grab time and hold it back with all my strength. Unfortunately, time isn't something you can catch.

In future years, I hope she remembers her first high school dance. I hope she remembers that she went with girls who each possess their own inner beauty, instead of a boy she may soon forget. But most of all, I hope she never forgets that life is lived when you remember who you are. All while wearing a pretty dress.

You Better Write This One Down

2011-09-28T14:16:00.001-05:00

I have words of wisdom for you today. Words that are so eloquent, I can't believe they haven't been said before. Todd found them in a friend's facebook post. I have no idea who originally coined this phrase, but I've scratched it into my subconscious. Enjoy your advice for the day:

"Putting a pretty shirt over your muffin top doesn't make you a cupcake."

If you know me, you know how I feel about cupcakes. So, here's my idea-- let's all do exactly what this sage advice is asking us NOT to do. I think that a world filled with people who resemble cupcakes sounds just a bit sweeter. No?

Use Your Voice

2011-09-26T08:26:00.001-05:00

Have you ever thought you could change the world? OK, maybe not the whole world, just the one you orbit through each day? Could you change that one if you wanted to?

I tend to think we can. In fact, I think the greatest change we can make comes from the smallest of our actions. The words we choose. Those that are said in passing, those that are spoken with concern or even anger, those that are said with love. On the surface, they are only words. But hidden down deep, words, our words, can change the world.

I see the world through the window of how I can write about it. That's just how my brain runs. Words are the fuel. I love them. For me, words carry weight. Every day, I think of all the ways I could combine them to give life to my thoughts. Written words can be powerful.

But, what about the words that are spoken? Especially those we give to the ones we love the most? Often times, those are the words that we are careless with. And yet, they are the most important.

We regulate what we say in public, we screen what we say at work or at church, and we are ever careful with the words we choose when we meet someone for the first time. But, within the framework of those we love, those who are woven into our every day lives, we are too comfortable. We are no longer as careful and selective with the words we choose. I don't think it's intentional, it's just our nature to settle into the every day living part of our lives.

What if we could flip our mindset? What if we could take more time to think about the words we use with those we spend the most time with? Those words, spoken to the people we hold in our hearts, they are the avenue for change.

Changing our world starts by using our voice. In offering words that build and comfort. Words that give acceptance and offer grace even when it's hard to give. In the intentional slowing down to choose those words that offer the most love. Easy to do? No. But the harder we work, the greater the effect.

May we start today. To give words that matter. Ones that will echo within. Word by word, we can change the world.

A New Record

2011-09-22T12:15:00.000-05:00

I'm about to tell you something that will take your breath away. You should be sitting down for this. Are you ready?........It's been 31 days of school and no one has been called into the principal's office! Did you catch that? 31 days!

Last year we made it to day 17 before I got the first call (yes, the FIRST). Now that we are at day 31, I'm over the moon. I think I might make a cake to celebrate. Should I light 31 candles, or is that too over the top?

What do families do that have normal kids? When do they make cakes to celebrate? I wonder what life is like for those parents who don't hibernate the fear of a phone call from the school? Their lives are probably peaceful and filled with obedient children. I bet they never get the chance to make cake.

I'm going to try and remain humble about our new record. The second I get cocky and let my guard down, that's when the phone will ring. For now, I'm crossing my fingers and praying. A lot.

Oh, and I'll be eating cake.

Spread The Happiness

2011-09-20T14:37:00.001-05:00

Smile more.
That should be the goal. To smile. More.
Because, let's be honest, that smile, that one right there, oozes happiness.

Maybe we could spread our own happiness.
Just by smiling.
Just by starting at home.
With those we love.

Begin today.
Smile more.
Spread it 'round.

Best Advice?

2011-09-16T15:04:00.001-05:00

I have a friend who has invented my favorite mom-phrase. "Same crap, different day." Do you ever feel like you wake up each day only to repeat the crap from the day before? Yup. I know you do.

I've been deeply entrenched in a same-crap-different-day cycle. It's irritating and its made me cranky. So, today I recalled the best advice I've been given to date: "Never do a job so well, it goes unnoticed." I heard this statement as a young mom, and I've held it in my subconscious ever since.

Maybe I'm doing my jobs too well. Maybe I'm barely doing the ones that matter. Or, maybe I'm ignoring the right jobs and focusing on all the wrong ones. I haven't figured all that out yet.

But, I've decided that these 2 statements connect somehow. One affects the other. How about, "Different day, let the crap go unnoticed"? Or, what about, "Same day, do A (singular) job well"? They both sound mighty fine.

So, what's the best advice you've ever gotten? Tell me, I wanna hear. I just might adopt it for my own.

When Love Has Roots

2011-09-15T08:54:00.001-05:00

Love is a mystery. Not because it's hard to understand, but more because it contains it's own life force. It grows and expands. It takes roots that bury it deep. It can also dim and grow stale, and even spread wide to encompass more room. You see? A mystery. One with a heartbeat.

But yet, we ride at the helm. We can direct love's flow. Not always. Sometimes love's life force takes it's own shape without our say so. But, for the most part, we can stear the course. We can't control it completely, just simply nudge it in the right direction.

We can not captain love's course without looking at what stands out front. Love requires eyes. Ones that see, truly see, what sits within our grasp. It looks, really looks, at those who weave into our daily lives. They are there so often, they can become ordinary if we don't keep vigilant vision. Love sees beyond the common day-to-day. It tends to capture what we need in our heart, not what we catalog in our head.

Take inventory of your love. Sit in the quiet and explore it's roots that have grown within you. Find the holes that need filling and offer words that carry love to ears. This life force has the ability to offer grace and peace. We simply must be willing to see where it resides and where we want it to grow.

Let your love take shape today. Let it fill your soul and warm your heart.

Scenes from the weekend, on a Monday

2011-09-12T13:32:00.002-05:00

Am I the only one who wakes up on Monday morning and wonders where the restful weekend went? I would even take a few 'restful hours'. Can you buy those somewhere? Is there an App for my iphone that I can download to use for a slow and melancholy Saturday/Sunday combo?

With a family of all girls (plus a dad), I never expected my days to be filled with so much sports and sweating. And yes, that is Todd in Austin at the BYU/UT game. And no, I didn't join him. Someone had to stay home to yell at the kids. I drew the short straw.

Enjoy your week. I'm going to try and figure out where to buy myself a weekend.

Now A Learner's Permit

2011-09-08T20:33:00.002-05:00

Happy 15th (15th!) to this daughter I adore.

Birthday Wishes to my favorite athlete.

You are my heart.

For always.

Hurry, Make One

2011-09-07T13:33:00.003-05:00

I got the idea from here. While making this, I overheard my kids saying, "this is fun". Those words don't spill out of teenager's mouths very often, especially when spending time with their family. So, maybe you should try making one at your house too.

Instead of making individual time capsules, we combined everyone together in one (Walmart) jar. And my kids were right, it was fun.

Brave

2011-09-04T19:48:00.001-05:00

The word 'brave' is a heavy word. It's full and carries weight. It holds an echo in it's center that sounds in your memory. I don't think I've ever been brave. I've been strong. I've been determined. I've been stubborn. But, never brave. It's a cloak I've yet to wear.

I've seen brave and watched from the sidelines. I've seen people I love take brave and wrap it tight around their shoulders. Those are the examples that echo the loudest. The ones who hold onto brave despite the fear.

I know a family who is brave. Each and every one. It's an honor to love them. This week my thoughts have been with them, while they are here:

Hearts are only one of the many items that fill their Brave List. Hearts with new valves. Cancer is on their list too. But so is faith and courage and tender mercies.

If I could hold brave in my hands, I know exactly where I would reach today. Oh, how I wish it wasn't so far.

Everything's Bigger

2011-09-02T09:30:00.003-05:00

These are mushrooms. In my front yard. Is it natural for them to be the size of a dinner plate? Maybe these are 'Texas mushrooms'. Or maybe this mushroom is confused and thought it was supposed to be a stool for a toddler.

I'm thinking about plucking it from the ground and having the family eat it for dinner. Good idea?

I Spy

2011-08-31T09:26:00.000-05:00

I've started collecting all the 'items' my kids leave in their pockets come laundry day. I am not a pocket-checker. I refuse. So, most of the time, I am scooping stuff out of the dryer. There are also rare moments where the sticks of gum fall out on their own, just as I'm ready to drop the pants in the wash.

This pile has been sitting on my dryer for 2 months. Obviously our household is overflowing with hair bands, because these haven't even been missed. Do you see the plastic grape (looks like a marble)? It's from Hobby Lobby. My kids feel the need to snatch them off the grape bunches. Then I find them in the wash. It's ridiculous.

Oh, and that ipod? That's Addie's. It's been washed. Thoroughly. She told me the other day that she is saving her money for...can you guess?.....an ipod. Why she didn't take care of the one she already had is beyond me.

***

Every morning, I stand on the porch as the kids get on the bus. And every morning, I am greeted with this view:

Not 1, but 2! portable potties. And guess what? Even when the construction is done and cleaned up, the potties remain. Aren't they pretty? My favorite is the bright green one in the far distance. It has the word, 'Jackpot' on it's side.

Wanna know something even better than having 2 potties by your front lawn? I have a child who has used one. Not even kidding.

***

This is the best view of all-- Sam without braces. Pretty teeth for the minimal cost of a small, used car. I told her it's too bad she can't drive her new teeth to school.

If Only I Could Reach

2011-08-26T14:30:00.001-05:00

Grief is not something I speak much about anymore. It's one of those topics that tends to drag on for those who don't understand it the way you do. Over the last year, I've found a way to just hold it inside. It's bound and wrapped tight. Most of the time, grief obeys and stays put. But there are other times where she unravels. Putting her back in her tight shell takes all my effort.

This week has marked 4th year I've had to let my dad live in heaven. I rather he be here. This very spot. There isn't much I wouldn't trade to have him come for dinner or call on the phone. But, life doesn't work like that. Life never makes trades, it only makes you keep going no matter the height of the hurdles.

I used to have a lot of anger. It was grief's companion. But anger has melted away and drained out my pores. Grief is all that remains. After 4 years, she has seeped deep down into my skin and settled there to stay. There are times I forget her and grief keeps quiet. But not for long. She calls and whispers and reminds me of how I thought life was supposed to turn out.

So, this week I have dreamed of reaching. I wish to reach out into the air and grab that place he has gone and pull it down toward me. Somehow I'm convinced that a heavenly glimpse will coat the grief and muffle her sound. But no matter how hard I try, my reach falls short.

So, instead of reaching upward, I shall reach inward. I shall look at memories and hear his voice and maybe listen to him tell a joke. I think that will make grief smile. Just for today.

In The Car Today

2011-08-25T12:28:00.001-05:00

It was raining this morning, so I drove her to the bus stop (2 houses down!). We sat together and waited for the bus. She did most of the talking:

"Hey, mom. What would you do if you were a raindrop?"
"I don't know. What would you do?"
a moment to contemplate...."I'd plop."

***

"Hey, mom. Guess what? I've never peed at school."
"What? You mean, you've never used the restroom at school? Ever?"
"Nope. Never. I can just hold it a long, long time."

***

"Mom, I think we should buy Emmy (my sister) a Range Rover."
"Oh, really? How will we pay for it?"
"We can use my money and your credit card."

***

Life with this girl is never dull or boring :)

I Can't Stop Giggling

2011-08-22T14:34:00.000-05:00

They trickled out the door this morning. One by one. My sanity seeped back in as they went. This year, there is a Foster in every age school. I wonder if our district has been notified.

The high schooler left before the sun was up. The elementary child left an hour later and the junior higher left 45 minutes after that. I started singing.

The first day of school always brings out my 'best mom, like, ever' flair. So, I made them a simple after school snack. Just a little something to celebrate.

I know, I know. I should have doubled it.

The Days Drag Long

2011-08-21T21:09:00.000-05:00

The final week of summer is just like the final week of pregnancy. Grueling. Torturous. Shall we add slow and bloated?

I reached exhaustion this week. Not a physical exhaustion, but the mom kind. The kind of tired that reaches deep and sucks you dry. The kind that leaves you wanting to cry from the moment you open your eyes in the morning.

The kids played my exhaustion to their advantage. We went to the pool. It's been my goal NOT to put on my swimsuit this summer. But, with temperatures at 105, sacrifices have to be made.

This summer, Sam and her friend invented a method of playing UNO with every. single. card. they could find in my house. Total count- 156. It's fascinating to watch.

At one of my really weak moments, I let every loose to do whatever they wanted, "Just as long as you leave me alone!"

Somehow I should have guessed that paint would be involved. Why is it always paint around here? Why can't they quietly sit with a coloring book?

Even when they started painting their hands, I let them continue. I simply took a picture and sent them on their way. Mom exhaustion can do that to you.

In between my visions of scratching my eyes out, I started to feel the 'crazy school schedule' pressure. I know you feel it too. The homework, carpooling, lessons, feeding people, getting people out the door on time craziness. I've felt the pressure building all week. School life is so very different than summer life. Good thing the backpacks are lined up and ready to go. Freedom arrives in 11 hours.

We Begin Again

2011-08-20T19:51:00.001-05:00

It's that time of year again. The time where I wonder how I ever gave birth to an athlete.

She now uses big words like, 'distance' and 'spikes' and 'healthy eating'. She might as well be speaking a foreign language.

She ran up hills, through bushes and in 102 degree heat. 2 miles in 14 minutes, somethin' seconds. My mind goes fuzzy just watching her. And as she crosses the finish line, Todd turns to me and states for the 4th time today, "Why, oh why, didn't she pick an indoor sport?"

Running season is off to a heated start.

Quote Of The Day

2011-08-18T21:00:00.000-05:00

"Hey. I just ate my booger, and it tastes like mint!"

I'm not even going to tell you which child said it. And yes, I'm raising all girls. It's moments like this that make me wonder.

Third Time Is NOT A Charm

2011-08-16T13:55:00.000-05:00

For the last 3 years, 'Making Taffy' has been added to our summer list. And for the last 3 years, we've failed.

Last year, it was too soft. Gooey globs were everywhere:

This year, I was positive that we would have the perfect taffy. It's a simple recipe, with straight forward instructions, so how hard can it be? Apparently, too hard. This year our taffy quickly formed into hard shards of glass:

The kids still found a way to eat it and I just walked away from the whole mess. Will this activity make the list next summer? I may just need a cooking class before I make that decision.

The Beach

2011-08-15T15:45:00.000-05:00

You either love the beach, or you hate it. There is no in between. There's water and there's sand. After those two elements, scorching temperatures are the only thing left.

Talking about the beach is so very different than being there. Yes, the sound of the waves is lovely, but did you forget about the sand? It. Gets. Everywhere.

And then there is the child that is "worried about sharks", so she won't get in the water. She wouldn't even dip a toe until the last 30 minutes of the trip. I tried to explain that sharks can't live on the shore in 2 inches of water, but she didn't believe me.

I am sunburned in odd places where the sunscreen didn't reach and I'm pretty sure that I have grains of sand stuck in every crevice of my body. I'm going to pretend that it's an expensive skin treatment. In a week, I should be scrubbed smooth. Yee Haw.

I Told You So

2011-08-12T11:08:00.000-05:00

Apparently, finding out you have 5 cavities can really motivate you to floss. If you look closely enough, you can also see a hint of blue eye shadow. I have absolutely no idea how that relates to the $240 I have to pay to have her teeth fixed. There isn't enough eye shadow in the world to do that. I think I may need to get a newspaper route. Yes, I live a charmed filled life.

Life's Dream And A Summer Secret

2011-08-09T20:33:00.000-05:00

My kids were discussing their "life long dream" in the car. Child #2 announced that she wants to swim with dolphins. This is riveting information considering the fact that she hates the ocean.

Child #3 told us that her life long dream is to "Have my own whup cream container of Cool Whip that I can eat all by myself. And then I want to wash it out and keep it."

Around here, we teach our kids to aim high.

***

Want the best summer tip ever? I turn on the vacuum when I can't stand to listen to the kids arguing (which is always). The vacuum drowns out their voices and they seem to lose their steam because they can't hear one another. A win-win. My floors have never been cleaner.

***

Long summer days are slowly dwindling away. Find yourself a Cool Whip container and celebrate!

Why Do I Forget?

2011-08-05T21:05:00.000-05:00

I took my girls shopping today, the back-to-school kind. At the mall. I nearly slit my wrists.

This picture captures the ONLY thing Child #2 was willing to do. Eat pretzels and sit. Child #1 refused to be seen with us. She shopped with a friend and only allowed me to show up to stand in line and pay for her clothes. Right now, at this very moment, she doesn't understand why she can't have a $76 pair of skinny jeans.

It's like this every year. But somehow my mind doesn't hold on to the horror of it all. And so, another year comes around and I mistakenly think we should all go shopping together so I can save time.

So, here it is in writing: I would rather drink gasoline than go back-to-school shopping. Ever again.

I'm going to my room now. For a long, long time.

Things I've Had To Explain

2011-08-04T09:48:00.000-05:00

Have you ever had moments where you wonder how your kids would score on an IQ test? I generally think that the people I gave birth to are inherently smart, considering I'm their mother. But then, reality surfaces and I'm surprised at the basic lessons they have yet to grasp. This week's highlights:

Child #2 needed an in-depth discussion (from my sister) that cartoons are not real. She was geniunely shocked that Dora The Explorer wasn't a real, live person. For some reason, she knew that SpongeBob wasn't real because, "Duh. He's a sponge!" But she was sure that Dora and Phineas and Ferb were living real lives outside of the TV screen. Yes, my pride has blossomed.

***

For the 14th time I had to explain that you need to change your underwear Every. Single. Day. Even if you think it's stupid, it still needs to be done.

***

The ages listed on the Play Dough box are definitely not 12 and 14. For reals.

***

Contrary to belief, I am not your servant. I know you are capable of getting your own glass of water while you are STANDING BY THE FRIDGE ALREADY! Oh, and while we're at it, you're perfectly able to throw away your popsicle wrappers, find something (Anything!) to do other than stand by me, and pick up your wet swimsuit you left on the family room floor.

Amen.

A Day For Sisters

2011-08-01T21:30:00.001-05:00

I can't recall when we started this sister tradition. I do remember the 3 of them being little girls. I'd thrown out the idea of a Sister's Day and they immediately set a date. We've celebrated ever since.

Yesterday, at church, Addie asked all her friends what they were doing for Sister's Day. They were completely confused. Apparently she thought that this was a national holiday. I had to explain that it was just a Foster one.

It's strange the effect a celebrated tradition can have. First off, they were excited to be together. Second, they were actually nice to one another. Todd suggested we start stretching this celebration to a full week instead of a single day. Sibling cooperation is a hot commodity around here.

We painted pottery, shopped, lunched and glowed while we golfed in the dark. It was a day of fun and being together. I can't remember the last time those two things occurred simultaneously. It was worth every dollar spent and every mile driven to get them there.

I'm sure that things will return back to normal by the early dawn of tomorrow. Fighting, irritation and eye rolls will settle back in to the regular routine. But for the last few hours remaining in today, I'm going to hold on to treasured moments, overheard whispered words of "Happy Sister's Day", and the divine threads that weave sisters tightly together.

The Other Side Of 40

2011-07-31T20:20:00.000-05:00

I've been 40 for 84 days. Yes, I counted. The way I see it, 84 days is long enough to settle in and get comfortable with 40. I've had time to live with it and try it out. And guess what? I don't like it.

40 has not been good to me. Which is strange, because you know how I thrive on even numbers. But still, I've come to the conclusion that I don't like this side of 40. The worst part? I feel it. I feel old. OK, old-ER. My skin now sags in weird places, my teeth are falling apart and I'm pretty sure I make weird groaning noises when I stand up from the couch. Oh, and I sigh. A lot.

I remember my parents at 40. Clearly. And I can't seem to balance that memory with where I am now. It just doesn't register. I expected 40 to slide on by, much like any other year. But, it hasn't, and it aggravates me.

I have found one nice thing about my new age-- I don't care. About a lot of stuff. I've come to a point where energy is a limited resource, so I spend it wisely. A majority of the things I used to worry about, simply don't matter any more. It's rather liberating not to care what others think or have to say. I have no idea why it took me this long to realize it.

I've noticed that noise bothers me. Specifically the noise of my kids talking all at once in a confined space, like the family room. This could be a result of endless summer days together, or it could be my age. I haven't decided yet.

What I have decided is this: 40 is NOT the new 30. 40 is 40. The end. No turning back. From here on out, I'm wondering if things just continue on a downward slope, or if there's some way to coast for a while.

Maybe the older you get, the more your body gives way but your mind gives up trying to please everyone and you actually start enjoying life. In a weird way, that sounds rather nice. This side of 40 may not be so bad after all. I'll let you know....after the kids go back to school.

Full Of It

2011-07-29T10:18:00.000-05:00

It's been one of those weeks. Full tilt crazy. My sanity has felt like syrup ready to pour out, over the edge. A drip has fallen loose every time my kids open their mouths. I think I have little of it left now.

Twin #2 had surgery this week (ear tubes, adenoids out, scar tissue around vocal cords removed). Thus, I adopted Twin #1. It takes a lot of energy to let her do whatever she wants and then do the opposite for my own kids. It wore me down. I had to start telling her 'No' and it caused me physical pain to do so. I think I probably need a refresher course on parenting. I'm sure the first topic covered will be, "Thou shalt not treat your nieces better than your own offspring."

Just in case you have more energy today than I do, try making sidewalk chalk:

You can find the directions on the Family Fun website. Take careful note that you can't put any of the solution down your sink. It will harden in the pipes. Kinda like my brain today.

My goal is to sit in a quiet, secluded place today. We all know that's never gonna happen, but it's nice to think about. Right?

What We Do For Fun

2011-07-25T14:50:00.000-05:00

I seriously need to consider giving these kids vitamins. Can you coat those in whip cream?

Are We Not All Pioneers?

2011-07-24T19:19:00.000-05:00

It's Pioneer Day. Not here, in Texas, exactly. It's more of a Utah celebration. One I grew up with. It's the day the pioneers arrived in the valley to lay down and settle in. I'm sure Texas had it's own pioneers, although I have no idea when they arrived on the scene. But if you think about it, I'm sure they too pulled up their wagons and surveyed a land yet to be touched and grounded.

When I think about pioneers, I'm left with thoughts about hard work and determination mixed with a lot of trial and error. I come from pioneer stock. It's in my blood. Somewhere. The traces must be faint, because there's no way I would survive the dusty trial. No way. It would be like a Girl's Camp that lasts forever. My mind can't even go there.

But I do consider myself a survivor. The curves and bends in my path haven't been easy or chosen, but I've traveled through them nonetheless. And isn't that what the pioneers did? They pushed through, the best they knew how, and they came out on the other side different people than when they began. In that slant of light and when you look at it from that angle, we are all pioneers.

There have been times in my life when the road has felt too rugged and long. Don't you feel the same? There have been times where I knew that the handcart I pulled was just too heavy. And there are many more times where I've felt like the Willie Martin Company who started off on their trail too late, only to fight an uphill battle.

No matter the trial or the test, we are all just pushing through. The best we know how. And I have to believe that on the other side, I'll be grateful for the person I've become. And I'll look out over my valley and with relief exclaim, "This is the place."

Happy

2011-07-23T22:37:00.001-05:00

The most unusual thing happened tonight. My kids were nice to each other. Without being forced, bribed or threatened. For a short blip in time, they were simply...nice. Todd and I stared at them without speaking. We were that stunned. I took a picture just so I could prove that this event actually took place:

Within a 20 minute period, they spoke nicely, behaved in public and shared their prize tickets. Let me say that slowly, just for emphasis-- they s h a r e d.....I am still freaking out about it. I was so happy, I found myself being nice to them. I don't think I rolled my eyes the rest of the night. I know, so weird.

Speaking of happy:

How thrilled was Todd to be sitting on the kiddie roller coaster while I held up the line so I could take a picture? I call this his 'Way Super Happy Face'. Good times all around.

Hope your evening was as happy as ours :)

More From The List

2011-07-20T14:55:00.002-05:00

Items now checked off the Summer List:

Snowcones. The most delicious way to cool down in Texas. I don't even dare add up all the money spent on these ice beauties.

Glass Magnets. Scrapbook paper, glass stones and a serious amount of Modge Podge. Every time anyone bumps or even breaths wrong on the fridge, they instantly fall to the floor. Time well spent.

Roller Skating. After spending a large amount of money to get people in the rink and skates on their feet, they spent the entire time in the gift shop. Kellie spent half her money on items that were rejected from the Dollar Store. Good times.

Complete a 1,000 piece puzzle. Enough said.

Can You Call CPS On An Aunt?

2011-07-19T19:44:00.000-05:00

My sister just let my almost-15 yr. old drive her car.

Let me say that again.

My sister just let my STILL 14 YR. OLD drive. her. car!

Yes, yes she did.

Sam gunned it up the driveway while my sister calmly said, "Brakes. You should use the brakes."

My sister's justification for letting Sam drive? "Um. She's almost 15?"

Isn't it blazingly apparent that I come from a family of intelligent, deep thinkers?

Exhausted Thoughts

2011-07-16T21:33:00.001-05:00

I just realized that it's Saturday. I had forgotten what day of the week we were on. The last couple of days have felt non-stop. I thought summer was supposed to be filled with long, lazy, carefree days. I think I missed the meeting where that was discussed.

***

Todd has been out of town. (Sidenote: is that why these last few days have been packed full of crazy?) He has eaten his way through all the restaurants that I have craved for 4 years. And he has visited people I love. It all makes my heart hurt to think about.

***

Summer has officially kicked my butt. I have reached my peak level of sanity. Every sibling war or "That's not fair"/ "I'm bored" declaration makes my insides scrunch up tight. I'm on the verge of endless scratching at my skin and high pitched screaming. The verge, people. I'm serious.

***

I discovered a coupon for $10 free on a purchase at Kohls. Its been sitting in my wallet for weeks. I found it today. It expires tonight. Free money. And guess what? I was too tired to go and spend it. That's just sad.

***

An unnamed child spilled ice cream in my car. Thus, I had to pull out the mats and clean them. I had 74 things to do last night, but instead I sat outside in the humid heat and scrubbed ice cream off the van mats. I left them out overnight. Today they remain soaked through and now they smell like mildew. Can I throw them away? Do you really need mats?

***

Child #2 lost her LAST tooth. I want to grab her and hold her tight so that she won't grow up too fast. It all speeds by too quickly.

***

Enjoy your weekend. Um, what's left of it. I'm hoping to find somewhere quiet to sit. I hold out little hope for that happening. I hope you have better luck.

A Summer Wreath?

2011-07-13T15:24:00.000-05:00

I decided to make a paper wreath. I had an altered version in my head based off of something I'd seen in blogland. I used a wreath form and scrapbook paper I had on hand. It took much longer than anticipated and I burned off the tips of my fingers, but at least it's finished.

I can't decide if it looks like a fun, summer wreath or a scrapbook store that got food poisoning and vomited in a circle. Maybe I'll let you decide:

I started by cutting an endless amount of scalloped circles using my (I mean, my sister's) Cricut. I varied the sizes. I used scrapbook paper as well as book pages.

I also added a ruffled edge on the back with felt. I simply cut the felt into strips and scrunched/hot glued as I went.

Layer, layer and layer your circles. I folded them into a cone shape and bent the end as I hot glued it on. This part takes for-ev-ah! I did little bits over a couple of days.

To fill in any extra space, I cut out stacks of felt circles. I used the bottom of a tomato paste can as a guide. I wanted them to be small enough not to cover up the paper.

I placed the eraser end of a pencil in the center of the felt circle and scrunched (a technical term) the felt around it. I placed hot glue on the end and then used the pencil to guide it into the nooks and crannies of the wreath. It helps to fluff out the wreath and cover any blank spots.

Once it's finished, you can sit back and ice your finger tips while you wonder if you spend way too much time on craft projects.

I'm Sure It's My Own Fault

2011-07-12T15:49:00.000-05:00

I've somehow convinced myself that the older they get, the easier art projects will be. Apparently I need to readjust my thinking.

As I was quickly trying to clean up the paint (before it dried!), the child who spilled it said to me, "Hey Mom, I can see your underwear."

So awesome.

3 More Summers

2011-07-11T13:39:00.000-05:00

I drop her off in the early morning hours. Just as the sun is rising. I watch her join the group of high school kids who have gathered to run. They hit the trails early to try and stifle the heat. They run through miles of dirt and bushes. I can't fathom why anyone would do such a thing.

This morning, there was a low fog on the ground. She jumped out of the car and appeared to walk into a blurry mist. So I watched. Just for a moment. And I realized, that she has only three more summers here. Only three more summer vacations that I can keep her as mine alone. Graduation will follow, and then I'll have to set her free.

Three is such a small number. It doesn't feel like enough. I want to gather up bushels of time and hold it tight. Is that possible? Is there a way to slow it all down and let the milestones sink deeper into my skin? I know the answer, I just wish there was a way to alter it a bit.

When you are living with toddlers underfoot, life feels like a slow crawl that will never, ever end. But then, before you have time to notice, there are teenagers. And life feels like it's dripping through your fingers no matter the force you use to keep them shut.

So, she runs and runs and runs. And I stay. I watch and I wait for her. I believe that it shall always remain that way. She circles and lives life, while I am the centering constant that pushes her to learn to fly.

3.
I think I'm going to try and run along beside her.

Weekend Fun

2011-07-09T19:03:00.000-05:00

For those of you who have watched Toddlers and Tiaras (if you haven't, you should), this is for you. Seriously funny. Enjoy your weekend with a good laugh:

Tom Hanks As Pageant Parent

Check

2011-07-06T15:55:00.000-05:00

Summer List #17: Rainbow Pudding Pops. Mix 2 boxes of Instant Vanilla Pudding. Divide into bowls and add food coloring. Layer and add popsicle stick. Freeze.

My kids found this beyond thrilling. Using food coloring tends to get exciting. Either that, or I underestimate their love of frozen treats.

A Lot Of Works, But Not Much Fire

2011-07-05T19:09:00.000-05:00

Now that it's the 5th, I can ask about your 4th. Did you barbeque? Light a few sparklers? Yell at your kids to back away from the lighter? All good signs of a great holiday.

No fireworks here. Zip. Not one crackle. When you live in a place that has the same temperature as your oven on broil, everyone gets a little touchy when it hasn't rained in weeks. Around here it's hot, dry and hot again. Thus, the sparklers were banned.

So, we cut out the 'fire' and just lingered over the 'works'. Went to a movie, ate good food with good friends. Serious work. And the best part of the day? We went to bed at 10:00 pm. We didn't have to sit outside and get infested with bugs while watching all the dads light up the street. Instead, the streets were silent and we watched TV in the air conditioned house. Ah, silent night. The perfect kind of holiday.

Stellar Parenting Moments For The Week

2011-07-02T19:38:00.000-05:00

Do you ever look back on the previous week and realize that you might need one or two parenting classes? Somehow this seems to happen to me every week. Normally, I blame the children. Tonight, I'm simply owning the fact that I just might be less than a stellar parent. Way less.

Here are the highlights for the week (the ones I haven't yet erased from my memory). I should find some shame in my behavior. But, I just don't. That's the first sign that I might be slightly crazy.

I told Child #2 to "Shut up".

I tell my kids not to say those words, but I couldn't keep them from slipping through my mouth. She just wouldn't stop talking. And it was at the tail end of a loooonnnnng day. I asked her to stop. Several times. She ignored me.

So, I looked straight into her eyes and told her to "Shut. Up". I even said it slowly and with emphasis. After she got over her shock, she told me I hurt her feelings. My response? "Good. Maybe you will stop talking for longer now."

***

I told Child #1 I would "Chop off her head".

She was begging for food not 5 minutes within me cleaning up the kitchen. During summer days, all I do is make and clean up food for the people who live here. So, this particular night, I told her "No". She picked up the intensity of her whining. I simply stared at her and said, "How about I chop off your head and feed you that?"

Her response: "Duh mom. Then I wouldn't be able to eat it."

***

In the midst of a heated battle with Child #3, she told me that "I didn't care about or love anyone in our family." I told her she was right. Just to fuel her anger.

***

No less than 2 hours ago, I had to tell the 12 year old that she couldn't stand on top of the car any more. She was disgusted with me.

***

Child #2 has "accidentally" started calling my sister, 'Mom'.
Yup. That's awesome.

I hope you had a stellar week, I know I did.

Painful Cookies

2011-06-29T09:24:00.000-05:00

I hurt my back. I have no idea how. It hurts- like 'cry a big, salty tear' hurt. I went to the doctor and he told me that something is pinched. I told him I think it's my sanity and begged him to admit me to the hospital so I could read a book in peace. For some weird reason, he said "No".

I did come with with a muscle relaxer. I was instructed to sit and relax. Instead, I made these:

I know, I know. They're so cute you could cry, right? Maybe a 'big, salty tear' kinda cry? And they taste as fun as they look. You can find the recipe here. I think they just might be the perfect summer cookie.

Our True Self

2011-06-27T15:46:00.000-05:00

I looked around at church yesterday. I looked at all the people I know and wondered why we don't ever show our true selves. Actually, I've wondered about this for some time. But yesterday, the thoughts seemed to weigh on me.

I can't seem to understand why we don't let the outside world view our inside self. We all put on a front. All of us. Someone asks how we are and we never give the truth. We give, "Fine" or "Good", when deep inside we know those words ring hollow. We don't express our real thoughts or struggles. We simply don't let others see us as anything other than our surface self.

So, why? Why do we only present half truths to those around us? Why do we feel the need to pretend that all is well, even when its not? Maybe, if we spoke the words that we really felt, it would give others the freedom to do the same. Instead of feeling flawed, we could all just start feeling normal.

There is fear in telling someone the truth. I think that's why we don't do it. We don't want anyone to know of our struggles and disappointments. Somehow, if we put our thoughts into words, they gain a physical shape that makes them more real. That's the scary part.

But, here's the truth: we all have struggles and disappointments. All of us. Mine vary from yours. Hard kids, finances, health, self esteem. The list can be endless. It's not that our struggles are monumental. It's that they are small and personal. They are quiet, and so we hide them.

What if we could find a way to be Real? What if we could let others know what we hold quiet and deep inside? Then, and only then, the fear would wash away. The fear of being judged or misunderstood or talked about.

If we all spoke our true selves, I have to believe that peace would take fear's place. Not a perfect peace, because our struggles would still remain. But a peace that could offer a calming hope of acceptance. It could squeeze into the quiet and deep to sit along side the hard, the disappointment, the frustrating and the sad. We could all use a good coating of peace.

I'm guilty of hiding. Just like you, I never share the Real. Never. I do it here, when I write. But not with spoken words. So, maybe I'm the only one who keeps the truth quiet. But, I doubt it. Maybe we could collectively speak the truth. Offer our Real selves, flaws and all. Doing it together definitely feels better than trying it alone.

So, this week, speak your true self.

How are you?

This N' That

2011-06-24T13:27:00.000-05:00

Around here, this is what we do for fun:

We put angels in rolling coolers and then run around the house until the angel can't breath from laughing so hard. Seriously good summer fun.

***

Todd has proclaimed that THIS is "the best blog ever!" (I wonder if he's ever read mine?)
This dad really does dress up everyday and waves at his teenager on the bus. I now realize I am totally a boring parent.

Today We Picked

2011-06-21T14:28:00.001-05:00

Blueberries, peaches and tomatoes. And let's just pretend that the weather was cool and pleasant, and that the kids all thought it was a great idea. Oh yes, I like pretending.

Maybe they will be happy once they see the fresh peach pie. Oh, who am I kidding? They'll just say it's gross and eat a fruit roll-up.

Looking Back

2011-06-20T12:37:00.000-05:00

Camp ended on Friday. It's now Monday, and I can finally talk about it without trembling inside. It wasn't horrible. It was just...camp. Doesn't that sum it up?

For the last 2 days, I've had countless people ask me how it was, or if I had fun. How can you answer that? It was 104 degrees, I had to wear flip flops into the shower, sleep was non existent and the girls never. stopped. singing! Never! How do you explain all that without crying just a titch?

I will admit to a few great moments: watching my two girls as young women, never having to cook my meals and a burping contest that made me laugh so hard I nearly peed my pants. Those were lovely experiences. The rest of the time, I would close my eyes and try to pretend I was in an air conditioned Target.

Since returning home, I've discovered that I now have a serious fear of sweating and camp songs. I sweat so much last week, I could have filled a kiddie pool. At one point I considered putting on a tube top. I'm serious. And now, whenever I overhear one of my girls humming a camp song, I get a nervous tick. I have to do my Lamaze breathing to calm down.

I'm sure I'll return to normal in a month or 12. Just in time for camp next year. By then, I may need to resort to extreme measures, like committing a minor felony so I can be booked into jail. I wonder if they sing camp songs there?

She Is 12

2011-06-17T19:48:00.000-05:00

Happy Birthday to the girl who makes my life more exciting than I ever thought it could be.

Celebrating a birthday at camp couldn't have been better.

I adore this sparkle of a girl. Happy Birthday my Kellie. Thank you for adding Light (and patience) to my life.

Prayers Please

2011-06-13T20:26:00.002-05:00

I'm at Girl's Camp.
With 2 of my girls.
And a couple hundred more.
In the Texas heat.

Did I mention that I don't like to camp?

It's A Choice

2011-06-12T19:17:00.002-05:00

We have an amazing friend. I've written about her before here. She has cancer and she stays with us while receiving her treatment. She is one of those people who offers grace and beauty through her living. She is on a mission to discover 10 blessings from having cancer. I believe she is currently at #7.

This amazing friend keeps a blog. She recently wrote about happiness. I found it so profound, I'm sharing it with you. Enjoy and make your choice.

Happy people have a secret. They look at the world in terms of what must be done to change it and they use their agency to change the environment around them. Some happy people have taken charge of their healthcare – educating themselves on their disease and tracking their results. Some happy people look around to see how they can serve others – how they can make someone else’s day just a little better. Some happy people never accept a status quo – there is work to be done to change their world. There is a theme here – choice and then action. We get happy in the doing.

Knowing that you should do these things to make yourself happy is very different than doing the things that will bring you joy. As Stephen Covey says, “To know and not to do is not to know.”

If you want to be really depressed, tell yourself that you can’t change anything, watch some TV, be resigned to the way the world is. Do everything you can to be passive. It is a sure-fire recipe for sadness.

Happiness is a choice. Even when you have cancer. Even when you don't.
No matter your life's status, there always remains the freedom to choose. And folded deep inside that freedom lies hope. It simply waits for you to reach out far enough to grab hold.

Make the choice to reach.

Slobs Live Here

2011-06-11T19:32:00.001-05:00

Here is the beauty of a Texas house: the master bedroom is downstairs. All other bedrooms are upstairs. I definitely think that an mother discovered this blissful design solution. For parents with teenagers, this is the perfect set-up.

Here's an added bonus: I rarely have to go upstairs. But then there is the downside: I am rarely upstairs. A lot can happen when it goes unnoticed. For instance, today I made the grave mistake of looking under the couch cushions in the upstairs family room. Behold:

Hidden under the hairspray bottle, (um, a hairspray bottle!?), is a comb and a full package of skittles. Gum wrappers, doll accessories, hair accessories, and all sorts of nastiness has been hibernating in that couch. I simply scooped it all right into the trash. Apparently, no one will miss it.

So, here's the real question: Is it better to make a daily trip up into the unknown and discover what they've destroyed? Or, is it better to ignore it all and simply pretend that your kids are well mannered and civilized?

For now, I'm just going to lock myself in my downstairs bedroom.

Slowly But Surely

2011-06-10T15:03:00.000-05:00

She is a few months shy of 15. And finally, finally she has found a pair of high heels that fit her feet (youth size 3). She was so happy, she wore them with her pajamas.

Then, at her sports physical, she weighed in at 81 pounds. She jumped for joy. Literally. I told her that she is now legally out of a booster seat. Too bad, I was so hoping to drop her off at high school in one.

She Resorts To Prayer

2011-06-07T15:20:00.000-05:00

Her prayer last night (relayed to me by my sister who was laughing so hard she had to stop and catch her breath):

"Heavenly Father, please......please help my mom to be happy tomorrow."

I really have no clue as to why this child would need to plead for such a thing.
Really. No clue.

The List

2011-06-06T14:33:00.000-05:00

The idea in my head looked easy and quick to make. The reality was tedious and slightly consuming. But hey, it looks really cute. Here's to hoping we actually check them all off.

Our Summer List:
Pillow Fight
Swim
Go Karts
Crafts
Snow Cones
Make Bracelets
Rainbow Pudding Pops
Make Taffy
Water Balloons
It'z
Dollar Store
Roller Skating
Pretzels At The Mall
Read Library Books
Bouncin' Bears
Build A Fort
Pick Berries
NASA
Homemade Sidewalk Chalk
Judy Moody Movie
Do A 1,000 Piece Puzzle
Bowling
Banana Splits
Paint Pottery
Celebrate Sister's Day
Glow-In-The-Dark Golf

To make this project, I simply used left over scrapbook paper and a frame I had sitting in my closet. Cheap, but definitely a little time consuming.

What's on your summer list?

And So We Celebrate

2011-06-03T16:47:00.000-05:00

Summer- Day 1. We party. It's the one day I let loose.
22 kids, 7 adults. All. In. My. House. Good Times.

Oh, and I let them have a water balloon fight. Yup, I did. Hundreds of water balloons. And before I let any of these kids get wet, I made them take the 'Summer Vow'. As a group, they had to kneel down on one knee and repeat, "I promise to be nice to my mom and obey her for the entire summer." I'm pretty sure my kids were crossing their fingers.

Makell was the only child determined NOT to wear a swimsuit. She was soaking wet and fully clothed. At one point her shorts almost fell off.

Addie kept cool in the...cooler. It was 101 degrees today, so she probably had the right idea.

Happy Summer. I hope you start your's with a party!

The First And The Last

2011-06-02T21:08:00.000-05:00

At the beginning of the school year, they were here. Freshly clothed, ready and eager.

And today, they are now here. What a difference 9 months can make. They are freshly off the bus, wind blown, pajamas already on and ready for summer.

#2 came home with a migraine, #1 just finished her last moment of Junior High and #3 is just glad not to have any teachers around to get mad at her.

As for me, I am here:

Drowning myself in frosting. It's my own personal celebration that we all lived through another year.

Tomorrow morning, I won't have to harass anyone to hurry up and get their shoes on, or pack any lunches, or help someone finish homework they should have done the night before. Right now, it all sounds dreamy. But come tomorrow, I may just have a change of heart. Good thing there are still a few cupcakes left.

Have A Memorial Day

2011-05-30T09:58:00.001-05:00

Happy Memorial Day.
Have some cake and celebrate.

Home Alone

2011-05-28T14:04:00.002-05:00

The adults were away last night and the children were left at home. When we returned, we discovered this:The maze extends to other rooms and up the stairs. I had no idea we even owned this much string. Apparently they had races to see who could maneuver through it the fastest.

I turned off the lights and went to bed with the string still in place. At one point during the night I said a silent prayer that we wouldn't have a fire and need to exit the house quickly.

Time To Remember

2011-05-25T15:50:00.002-05:00

There is so much that I forget to do. She is the last one. The final child. The others are older and I find myself doing all the 'older' things with her tagging along. I forget to remember. To do all those things I did with the others when they were this age.

Most of the time, she is the one who prompts me. "Will you draw chalk with me outside?" I stare at her and realize that this was a normal activity with the other two. It was just something we always did, no prompting needed. But now I need reminding to sit down on the ground and draw with chalk.

We trace her body with pink. She laughs and talks incessantly while we draw and color. Time slows when I do 8 year old things with her. Simple joy surrounds the edges of it. And in that time, I'm grateful to remember. To sit and look and listen and draw.

Anyone?

2011-05-23T14:54:00.002-05:00

Is there anyone else who is sick, and I mean SICK, of making school lunches?
Anyone?

How about this...
Is there anyone else who is sick of asking their kids 403 times to get up, and you started yelling at #254? Oh, and then the offspring gives you a disgusted look and says, "Why are you always yelling at me!?"

Any other mother out there who is so sick of it you could nibble a hole in your arm?

No?

I must be a loser.
Oh, wait, I know I am because one of my kids told me so last week.

Her View

2011-05-20T13:50:00.002-05:00

I wish I could see Life the way she does. She has the ability to find joy in the very ordinary. Here she sits at the ENT. Within moments she discovered that this chair moves up and down and that little light attachment makes a magnificent squeak when you shake it.

I thought about asking her to: (1) sit like a girl, (2) act her age and (3) try to pretend you're normal. But, why? Instead, I just let her be herself. The girl who laid on the doctors roller chair and bolted around like Superman. The one who giggled when the doctor looked up her nose. That's the real her.

The other day she asked if she could pick me up. When I told her "no", she did it anyway. She was giddy with delight. And just this morning, apple juice appeared in the fridge. She thought it was manna from heaven. Oh, to find life so entertaining.

Today, I give us all permission to just be ourselves. No rational thinking is allowed. No consideration of what is 'appropriate' is needed. Just Be. Don't look around to see who may be watching. Be. Your. True. Self.

And while you're at it, find a chair to spin around on.

There Is No End To My Genius

2011-05-19T14:49:00.003-05:00

If you take a pumpkin chocolate chip cookie recipe and simply drop the dough into muffin wrappers, do you know what you get? A healthy breakfast food. It's not proper to eat cookies for breakfast (whatever), but muffins are definitely acceptable.

Maybe tomorrow I'll try oatmeal chocolate chip muffins. Oh, I feel a trend coming. Snickerdoodle muffins? Brownie muffins? Seriously, I'm so smart, it's scary.

In case you want to add some extra juice to your genius, visit this site here and remember a few words. A writer friend of mine showed me this site. He's already beyond genius. I'll bet he already knew you could turn cookies into breakfast muffins.

The Recital

2011-05-17T14:06:00.003-05:00

Recitals are interesting. At least for me, they are. I spend a majority of my time praying that my kids won't do anything embarrassing. This go round, Child #1 dared Child #2 to burp the introduction to her song. You would think that I was shocked by that, but alas, I was not. Again, recitals are interesting.

As I watched each of my girls stand and play, I couldn't help but reflect on all it takes to get a child to the point of performance. We parents chauffeur to lessons, we endure the constant battle to practice and we never tire of hearing, "I hate the violin, why didn't you let me take piano!" It's never ending.

But then, they stand and play. And in that moment, all the tiresome battles drift away. Pride and love and gratitude take its place. This is why recitals are interesting. They remind us of why we do what we do. They offer us a glimpse into who our children are becoming and more importantly, they allow each child to stand as an individual and shine.

Maybe we could try to see each day as more of a recital than a rehearsal. There is great value in focusing on the end result instead of emphasizing the battles and the whining. Recitals turn the ordinary into extraordinary. I have to think that it should always be that way.

All too often we need to be reminded why we do what we do. Some days we need it more than others. But if we could somehow lock our eyes onto that final performance, maybe it would help us to remember all on our own. It just might make it easier to endure the day-to-day ordinary battles. Life offers the extraordinary. We just have to have the courage to stand up and take it.

Make each day your recital. And along the way, take the chance to shine.

The Bitter Truth

2011-05-16T14:19:00.002-05:00

This morning, child #1 told me that there are only 14 more school days left until summer vacation. I almost threw up on her right there in the kitchen. But instead, I told her that if she repeated those words to me ever, ever again, I'd throw her cell phone into a wood chipper. Silence.

14 more days people.

Panic starts now.