If I make it through this week...

I'll deserve a tiara at the least but more appropriately a pair of wings. The week started off with Monday. I don't know how everyone else feels about that but I do know how Garfield feels... and I tend to agree. I screwed up going to Bible study by accidentally scheduling a couch pickup after dropping the girls at school. Nick and I drove down to Stapleton and picked up the jester sofa. I now have three couches in stock and it's the only one I like. Why I have the other two is a mystery. That night I don't know what I made fish and rice for dinner and we went to choir practice at 6:30. This sounds like a loosely filled day as long as you don't add in the park, potty trips, the three trecks to school in a day, feeding people, negotiating the most ridiculous things like, who touched Mommy first when we got out of the car and trying to keep the laundry under control. The next day wasn't terrible but it was tight. We did all of the usual grind but then picked up Wendy's on our way to the Children's Museum for "Target Tuesday" which is the free night. We got home at 8:30 completely wiped but it was SO fun! They are all three at the most perfect ages for me to go to the Museums etc... with all three by myself. Wednesday was a bit of a mosh. Fill in all of the drudgery plus Kait had a playdate and I hadn't had any bread for Edens lunch so Nick and I swung by school and picked her up for lunch. She loved it! Nick and I spent forever at Target after that, getting the deals of the century. I walked out with basically the whole store for a song. The cashier smiled at me and said. "You did good, really good. I'm going to tell my daughter about you." Poor daughter. BUT, that takes about two hours of planning. So, if you're one of those people who says "oh, I don't know how you have time for that." You're right, it does take time. Lots of time. But it pays better than a $10 an hour job at Penney's. If you're intrigued, create an account on couponmom.com and you'll see how addictive it can be to save more than you spend at the store. We went home, put away millions of groceries and Christmas gifts and chocolate that was basically free, and went and got the girls. Every night of the week, please insert homework. Sometimes in the car making Eden think she's going to puke, sometimes at home with grape juice spilled on it... I made sausage potato soup with some delicious leftover fingerling potatoes in the fridge and loaded back up and headed to choir practice at 6:30. We were there until 8:15. Yesterday was when things started to unravel.I sluggishly pulled myself from bed after staying up way too late watching House and folding laundry. I showered... was that the first time this week? God I hope not. We all had to go to school because Thursdays I volunteer in Kait's class. I also had to wear makeup because Eden has always requested makeup and earrings from me when I volunteer so Kait has started making that request too even though she really doesn't care. It presents a problem because makeup gives me a terrible headache. Nick and I were there til 9:45 with my eyes burning and head pounding and then we ran home and tried to get some preschool time in together. Meanwhile the house has not been vacuumed since Sunday and for some reason Journey appears to be shedding her entire winter coat???? Everywhere we go, Nick looks like a miniature "abominable snowman" because he rolls in the fur... I mean floor. I've furminated her twice and put entire grocery bags of hair in the trash. We picked up Kait and filled the very empty car with gas. We came home, grabbed Eden's lunch which I'd forgotten to take with me not once but twice in one day and ran it over to the school. When we got back, Linda called and said she was taking Amani to Golden Ponds and would we like to go too. I bundled everyone up and we went to Golden Ponds. The wind was blowing the kids bikes backwards when they tried to ride them so Linda and I called it good and loaded them back up and went home. Kait and Amani and Nick played in the basement all afternoon while I prepared my King Soopers list. We picked Eden up and headed to Kings... Yes, me, three kids and everyone in Longmont who has gotten off work for the day with a giant cart with a car on the front. I had to count items too. It became Eden's job to keep track. For every ten items we saved $5, and she did a good job. They all insisted on a free cupcake, and a free cookie.... and yes a free balloon. Now it was me, three sugar high kids and three red balloons with a giant cart and more people streaming into the store. I had coupons, i had a list of my digital coupons. I had to keep Eden counting the bonus buys and neither Nick nor Kait would stay in the cart. Then the dreaded baking aisle. Yes, can you see it? Christmas baking time! Every man or woman was either in the baking aisle or swarming at the end of it trying to get into it. Somehow... we busted out of there with our chocolate chips. It got to the point that strangers were warning my children that they were "going to get into trouble with their mother" if they got out of the little car." Finally we waded our way to the register and escaped. Again, I took home the whole store for peanuts. I think my garage looks like a food bank these days. We dashed home, put away groceries made taco meat and black beans with cheese as fast as possible. Stuck the taco shells in the oven while hollering at Eden over and over that she has to do her homework as fast as possible. Suddenly wondered if I had switched the oven from broil to 300 degrees. Skidded over to the oven, pulled the door open and flames lept a foot high out the oven door. Eden started screaming and the smoke alarm went off. I threw a cup of water in the oven and our house turned to a dense cloud of smoke. The kids stood with oven mitts waving them in the air around the smoke alarm while I ran the charred "remains" out to the dumpster. Jody walked up. I announced that we were having taco salads and that it had to be eaten in two minutes. Two minutes later I announced that the girls had to get their shoes on so we could make it to choir practice. We were there until 8:00. Tonight will be the first performance. We will be there from 5:45 to? and tomorrow we have two performances call time of 1:30 until???? 7?

The Season For Cheer

I haven't had a Christmas with my whole family since Jody and I got married. I've had Mom and Dad come, and I've had Ginny and Daniel come but we haven't all gathered together for a Christmas in years. I'll admit, I'm having a bit of a boo hoo that Daniel won't be sent home a bit early from Afghanistan so he can have Christmas with us but it'll be mighty close to a full family Christmas. Apparently Abby is so excited that we're coming that she has cleaned her room and purged it twice. Not only that but she's avidly creating little origami boxes and such for who knows what. Gin acts like it's a trial due to all of the bits and pieces that are always lying around but I know she loves Abby's active mind and nonstop ideas.
On our end, we're shopping and wrapping gifts already. We managed to get Marcy and Jerry their gifts and sent with them to Minnesota so it's one less package to agonize over. Whew, I've given myself a target of one more week to get Daniel and the Barry's packages off and two weeks to write my Christmas letter and get a family picture done. There, it's in writing so I have accountability.
Last night Marcy and I took Eden and Kait to The Nutcracker which was fantastic. We all put on our finest and dressed to the nines. We went to the Mackey in Boulder and it's old and beautiful. We sat in the third row of the balcony and the second row was empty, so the girls neither one had to look over a head. The cathedral ceiling of the auditorium was breathtaking and the girls absorbed every detail. Kait made it through about three sets before she told me that she thought there were going to be words and that she was sad there weren't any words. I don't know how I failed to describe the performance as a ballet but those are the little surprises of parenting. Eden was completely enthralled. She loved the music, the tricks of the stage and all of the amazing costumes. She knows the story of The Nutcracker well, so there were few surprises and many fulfilled visions for her. During the intermission we all shared a giant cookie and the girls drank hot cocoa in their beautiful Christmas dresses. It was one of those moments. I saw it in Marcy's face and I felt it in my heart. We were so glad we lived it. We were so glad we made the effort and made the memory and made the investment in the girls. Marcy got them each a trinket to remember our outing. After the second act started Kait again bemoaned that there were no words. I made up some words like I was a narrator but she was across Marcy so I didn't do it for very long. Pretty soon I could hear her just chattering away in quiet voice and leaned over. Marcy told me Kait was narrating it for herself. It's a fine jewel in my treasure chest of memories. We all had a wonderful time.
I told the girls that this year we are going to live up the Christmas season like never before. We're going to the tree lighting in town, we're making cookies and decorating ornaments with friends, they're singing in the Christmas production at Church and we're doing every other festive thing I can think of. What's the point of life if you don't live it?

Traditions of time...

My childhood Thanksgivings were grand. It was the embodiment of the true spirit of Thanksgiving. Mom was always overwhelmed. She never knew how many turkeys she was going to have to cook. She didn't know how many chairs and tables she would set but somehow she always muddled through, linens starched, crystal and china washed and silverware polished.
We formed some traditions that died before we had a chance to get too used to them but some still hang on. About a year after Mom and Dad bought Culligan Mom announced that she was postponing Thanksgiving dinner to Saturday so she would have time to prepare for it. It stuck. Instant tradition. It was a double edged sword though. Yes, she had more time to prepare but practically nobody we knew would be otherwise engaged the Saturday after Thanksgiving... and the number of people who get invited to a house when six people are doing the inviting gets a little bit out of hand. Mom stuck to her southern hospitality with fervor though. Some people who came were a thrill and some were less than thrilling. I prefer to reminisce about the thrilling people. We loved to invite the Torrijos family every year and embrace the diverse heritage and the shared thankfulness for America. Gilberto and Elesia were first generation Americans hailing from Columbia with a mysterious fascinating background and beautiful foreign accents. I can hear Gilberto's hearty laugh as I sit here. He was like a grandfather to me in some ways, maybe a great uncle or something, I don't know but he was grand and funny. Aunt Bonnie and Aunt Jessie always came with our cousins Diane and sometimes Michael. Aunt Bonnie personified joy, her voice rang clear and high above the din and her shattering laugh was her hallmark. Aunt Bonnie and Gilberto now laugh for Jesus in heaven. That tradition is gone but I've saved it as an example I would like to pull out and apply in my own home someday. Striking vibrant people who are the jewels of a party. Aunt Nancy and Uncle Roger usually came. Uncle Roger would be pressed into service repairing a car and Aunt Nancy would industriously charge into the kitchen and start delegating tasks that Mom had been trying to shoulder on her own.
We always bought huge bags full of mixed nuts to shell for the fruit salad and the nut pies. That one carries on. Kids love to shell nuts.
Homemade rolls were a staple and Gin and I both hold to that tradition as well. What is Thanksgiving dinner without homemade rolls. Ah the funniest story of all lies in the homemade rolls but that will have remain untold... regrettably.
The fruit salad Granny used to make remains and though every one of us made it without celery at Dad's request for years, it turns out that Ginny, Mom and I all found ourselves wanting to put it back in last year.
Then there was the pie situation. No amount of reminiscing over Thanksgiving would be complete without reliving the pie drama. Every single person in the family wanted a different kind of pie and some all of their own. Dad wanted a walnut pie and a mince meat pie. Louis wanted an entire pumpkin pie all to himself. Ginny wanted apple pie, Daniel and I wanted pecan pie and Mom wanted coconut cake. We then had to calculate the number of additional guests and divide it so at least 1/3 of a pie had been allocated per person. I believe the record set on this was 14 pies to be divided among 32 people. Yes, the math isn't quite right but I am certain we had 32 people in my parents little house sitting at tables made for anywhere from 2 people to 8.
It's funny how we never took pictures. We didn't even realize we were making memories we might want to relive someday. If I had a picture of Mom, Aunt Bonnie and Aunt Jessie doubled over in laughter, faces flushed from the hot kitchen and tears of hysterical laughter running down their cheeks when Aunt Jessie accidentally put baking soda in the gravy instead of corn starch, it would be a prize. If I had a portrait of Gilberto's face when he tasted a persimmon that wasn't ripe against Dad's advisement, I'd have something to make me laugh on my darkest day. If I had a picture of Gin's consternation when I insisted on dying my hair black (though it turned out gray) and wearing my Native American dress to Thanksgiving dinner, I'd post it on my facebook page every Thanksgiving.
This year, Jody's dad and Marcy will come have Thanksgiving with us. It sounds so small but making Thanksgiving Dinner for seven people is a big deal. It gives me some empathy for Mom. What a wild scene our house was as a kid and I didn't even know it.

Eden is eight...

Well, actually she has been eight for about three weeks but I never did write my birthday blog for her. I could say what she's done this past year or how she's changed since her seventh birthday but I don't think it would do because in all of the ways that define Eden, she has never changed. She is like the deepest water of the ocean. She doesn't chatter. She doesn't jitter. She isn't domineering or controlling. She's present. She's beautiful. She's vivid. She's profound. She's not tied to convention nor is she fettered with time. She hears your inputs but she has her convictions and if they don't concur, well you're better off trying to move a silent, placid mountain. She speaks sparingly but with depth that usually shocks me at first hearing and makes me want to cry with the retelling. I gather a lanky child in my arms with legs that take up my whole lap, I smooth her satin silk blonde hair that now falls in a cute chunk over one eye (like Ms. Baxter), I look into her beautiful blue wide set eyes with the light sprinkle of freckles on her nose when she speaks and smiles and I hope I always remember that child, the beauty and the simple joy for life. If it makes sense to say, I think Eden is the one who is patient with me. While I beg, cajole and scream for her to conform to this world, she smiles and tries to cooperate with almost a tolerance while knowing I can't understand her big picture. I think she knows my faults and failings better than any other member of the family because I can't see it and I don't always understand her and it physically drains me. She's referred to as "an old soul" by many and I think with good reason.
This year at our parent/teacher conferences, I've no doubt that the teacher thought she would be revealing a great surprise about Eden when she told us that Eden is an extremely bright child and her only struggle was completing tasks in a timely manner. She said with great concern that she might sit for 20 minutes with a paper untouched because she had a question and had never raised her hand for help. Through a series of events I've also discovered that not only has Eden held up the entire drive line at school while stopping in to check on Ms. Baxter in the afternoon, but she has also been tardy for the same reason. Apparently it's very important to her that she visit Ms. Baxter no less than three times per day. I think it's a perfect example of her perspective of the existence of time and how her priorities rank. I rather imagine she pities the world for being so obsessed with time and prioritizing schedules.
A few weeks ago, I asked her if recess had been cold because it was an insanely windy day.
She said "yes but I love to hear the wind. Sometimes when the wind blows, I feel like it's trying to say something to me."
I said "really, what do you think it's saying?"
She said "well, I don't know, I don't speak wind, but maybe it's trying to bring me a message. I bet my sister Michelle loves the wind and she sends me messages. Like it's our own special thing, just the two of us thinking about each other. But all of our family, I mean you and Daddy too."
I told her that was a beautiful idea. It was so sweet and soulful. She's eight years old, sitting there with the fall melancholy we all get, articulating it all so beautifully and making sure she doesn't hurt anyone's feelings to boot. Special, special girl.
And tonight was rather entertaining as well. She told me that she has started a page about Jody in her creative writing book and that she had written that he is great to wrestle with and loves to take her to the arcade. I thought those were great and then she told me that when she's all done she'll write a page about me.
I said "Really? What will you write about me?"
She said " Oh I don't know, that you work really hard and clean up after everyone?"
I raised my brows and nodded, I'm sure I was wincing.
She said "(giggle) and that you like to take us to thrift stores."
I just took them to the Museum of Nature and Science for the day so that was a bit of a blow but I nodded all the same and said "okay."
Then just for good measure she said "and you make really yummy hot cocoa for us when we're cold."
Considering the effort put into hot cocoa compared to the pot roast I made today I had to wonder... if my children really don't care if they eat good food or go to fancy museums and those things really don't impress them... maybe I AM wasting a lot of time like they all say.... ;-)
No, that can't be the case. On her birthday, Eden was so sick with a terrible cold and we offered to get her food anywhere. She told me she wanted a home made cake and home made spaghetti because it was made with love. She got exactly what she asked for.
So Eden, I pray for you that you will follow the will of the Lord. That he will show you great things. That your life will be a testimony to everyone who knows you of Gods unfailing and beautiful love. I pray that the angels will guard and protect you. I thank God for making you so wonderfully with so many amazing skills and attributes that can bring him boundless amounts of glory. And I thank Him for entrusting you to me, so I may enjoy you for this short time.
I don't know how many more springs I'll get to watch you hunt for Easter Eggs, or all of the other wonderful childhood pass times but I can't say that I mourned the passing of Barney or your diapers, so bring on the middle years. Let's see how we do.
That's about all I can say about my amazing #1 girl. I'm so glad God found such a great way to get my life on track. Blessing us with Eden has been a beautiful, joyful ride.
The halloween rock star.

This is me?????

I just found this old blog I wrote and never published. I was hoping it would slide into when I saved it as a draft in May but it didn't. Ah well, I've messed up the order. Anyhoo, very funny story on Kaity. I'm going to tag another one on here about her playdate tea party. I have also promised myself that I will write a special belated birthday blog for Eden. I can't believe I didn't write one this year and I just noticed it! It'll be forthcoming tomorrow.

This was from May:
When I consider where I came from, I find it nothing short of mind blowing to think that I'm an urbanite with three kids enrolled in soccer, running around volunteering to feed 50 1st graders ice cream and buying and selling furniture willy nilly all the while listening to Kaitlyn's never ending tirades in the back of my mind.
"Mom, Grandma Barry and I have a secret and we're not telling anyone!"
"Okay."
"Okay Mom, it can be a secret with just you and me and Grandma Barry."
"Okay."
"I told her that you and Eden called me a party pooper this morning and she thought that PROBably hurt my feelings."
Long pause.
"Okay."
"I have been having lots of bad days Mom. One day I got a hole in my head and they had to put STAPLES in it, the next Eden hit me on accident, and today I scraped my leg on a ROCK." (I feel the need to insert here that it almost sounds like Kait puts a "g" on the beginning of words starting with "r" so it sounds like "grock".)
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Are you ready to go to Target?"

And this one was from November 9th:
I was invited to an exclusive Kindergarten Rockers preview show today. As I entered the room, I saw child sized chairs in a neat row apparently for spectators to sit in. They were facing the ottoman and couch. The ottoman had been draped with a sheet and Fiona stood in a dramatic pose with her body turned profile. A sparkly cap perched jauntily on her head with short curls peeking out. A little to her left and behind her, in a relaxed pose sat Katelyn R. With the guitar laying against her and a sweep of hair across one eye, she strummed with a faraway look. Behind Fiona, Kaity Kat and Abby stood on the window ledge above the couch. Abby was frozen in a pose with one knee crooked and her fingers forming a sideways v across one eye. Kaity Kat stood with feet planted wide. Her arms were stiffly at her sides and her hands were turned palm flat and her body was stiff. Fiona jumped and turned 90 degrees to face me and began to sing a song she had written this afternoon. "One daaaay, I was sittin lookin out the window, lookin out the window for my friends..." Kaity Kat and Abby started dancing like there was no tomorrow and Katelyn began to hit it on the guitar. I sat stunned. I have not exaggerated a single bit of this.

My Family Tree is a Fig Tree

Last night, for the first time, I simply thanked God for our house in Minnesota. I could feel those words straight from the Holy Spirit and it felt so comforting. I think I can link it to the small epiphany I had in church yesterday. We were reading Luke 14 but my eyes strayed to Jesus' parable of the Fig Tree in chapter 13. When I read it, I identified with it immediately. Here's the story, then I'll tell you how I related to it.
6 Then he told this parable: “A man had a fig tree growing in his vineyard, and he went to look for fruit on it but did not find any. 7 So he said to the man who took care of the vineyard, ‘For three years now I’ve been coming to look for fruit on this fig tree and haven’t found any. Cut it down! Why should it use up the soil?’

8 “‘Sir,’ the man replied, ‘leave it alone for one more year, and I’ll dig around it and fertilize it. 9 If it bears fruit next year, fine! If not, then cut it down.’”
First, I identified with the fig tree not bearing fruit. Jody and I have known Christ as a couple for our entire marriage and I have known Christ since I learned how to talk. We have not born any fruit of our relationship with the personification of love though. Of all of the things Christ told us to do, from the great commission to feeding the orphans and widows, to Loving the Lord our God with all of our soul, might strength etc.., we really hadn't practiced it. Of all of Paul's admonishments to the early church, Jody and I did not throw ourselves into the work we're all called to do as Christians.
Secondly, I noticed the caretaker did not cut the tree to bear more fruit like the parable of the grape vine. He tilled the soil around it. That is what we have experienced. We've felt very uncertain for the last three or four years but never have we had a piece of us cut off... unless you count Jody's thyroid gland and 50 or so lymph nodes in his neck. We've felt the earth shake and questioned our foundation but our family unit has remained intact. He's provided for our needs and healed Jody's wounds. I figure I should make a list of fertilizers. Maybe your caretaker will use these.
The day we accepted that Jody's uncle would not be paying Jody a paycheck anymore was the first tough blow. It was a very terrifying experience. We had moved to Minnesota in a small non-metro area for a job which had been presented to Jody as a sure thing. We bought the house everyone recommended and presumed life would be stable. Now we realized, our house was worthless and there was no other job to fit Jody's two skill sets within 75 miles of our residence. I can't imagine how it must have felt for Jody. He's the provider for a wife and three children ages five, two and six months. I know I felt it, but he felt it more. He found a job in Boulder and we packed up lock stock and barrel and moved across country the first week of January 2008 to rent a small house sight unseen and rented out our house month to month to a single mom. It was the move from hell. Eden was sick the entire drive. I have tried to block that memory but it actually haunts me.
The next blow came about 6 months later when the housing crisis was coming into full swing and we thought we had sold our house for a loss. I opened a letter. It was a notice that the earnest money check had bounced. We were on our last straw, so we rented it out again. Our life was on pause. There was no way to buy a new house, so we just had to wait.
About three months later, Jody called to tell me he had thyroid cancer. He sounded so empty. I told him to come home immediately. I sat there with that horrible ache in the back of my throat wishing I could cry. I called my sister and best friend, but they didn't answer their phones. I tried to breath, I tried to pray. I kind of cried but it felt more like I was suffocating. I tried to read up on it, and got lost in the stages, the kinds, all of the things I didn't know any answers to. Jody came home and we laid on the couch together. The worst part was just that we didn't understand. The cancer story is so long and was so up and down, not because of Jody's health but because we just never felt like anyone explained anything and we didn't even really know if we should be afraid. His first surgery was in November. He thought it would be easy, in and out. He didn't want extra people in the house. So, the neighbor came over and I drove Jody in to the surgery. The doc made it sound so easy. Three hour surgery tops, overnight stay in the hospital. His thyroid would be gone and he'd take synthroid forever. A bummer but doable. My friend Shawna who I am thankful has a very special relationship with God felt she had to drive down from the mountains to be with me. We sat there forever. I can't remember how long that surgery took but I know it ran at least an hour over but maybe two hours over. I was talking crazy to Shawna and she just nodded and listened. Finally the doctor came out and every question I'd had pent up for the last few weeks came pouring out. He was a surgeon, not an endocrinologist and he had just been through a very harrowing surgery as I later assimilated. He and I did not hit it off. Jody's cancer was much worse than the doc had anticipated and he had spent hours scraping it off of Jody's vocal chords so his speech wouldn't be impaired and selectively removing lymph nodes. He had a particularly hard time working around the parathyroid glands, so Jody had to stay in the hospital an extra day or two because he wasn't producing calcium. He said "I beat them up pretty bad." As it turned out, Jody and I went to the wrong doctor. He did his best, but it wasn't good enough. If you ever need a surgery, do your homework. A month later he had a dose of radioactive iodine. They locked him into a chamber with lead walls, gave him the iodine and slipped his meals through a special little trap door. He said the isolation was terrible but it was worse when he came home and felt like he shouldn't touch anyone because he was so toxic. Then I went with him to the scan. I watched his body image on a big screen light up wherever he had absorbed iodine and felt fear all over me. They hadn't explained what it would look like or what it would mean. We had to wait for the results. It went like that with every step of Jody's cancer. Nothing was ever explained until after the fact. I got to the point of hysteria several times. At each checkup they took Jody's blood. Finally one day, they said it was time for an ultrasound. I asked Jody why and he told me they said it was routine. We'd seen his blood work every time too but it had never been interpreted for us and gave us no idea of what we were about to find out. When they did the ultrasound, they found three masses in the left side of Jody's neck that the first surgeon had missed. I cried and cried. I called Jody's mom and cried. The doctor ordered a PET scan to be sure the cancer wasn't in Jody's lungs which is where it goes if it travels down lymph nodes. I felt like my body was trembling all over 100% of the time. Finally, the week before the PET scan Jody and I fasted together. It was a first for us and we really bonded through it. It brought peace. I came to the realization that my security comes from God, not the presence of my husband or dad or any other person on this earth. The day after the PET scan, the doctor called Jody in to see him. He told us in person that it was all clear. Again, the ground around us had been tilled, but the little fig tree stood. We went to the Mayo Clinic for the next surgery because we trust them, we know they're the best and they are the pioneers of an experimental non-invasive procedure called alcohol ablation. Unfortunately, Jody's tumors were too big, so they did the surgery and it was hard again. I've never been there with someone going through surgery so I had no idea how it knocks a person flat. All the way through I just asked God not to make Jody go through this again. He came out with an incision all the way across his throat curving up almost to his ear. It was huge. Then we got the bill. The insurance company said they weren't going to pay it even though we had called them to be sure it would be covered if we went there. It was $33,000. Jody was angry. He said we should have just gone back to the hack. I argued back that there was no price too high for his health. Still, I did wonder why we'd paid into insurance for all of those years. We went about five rounds with the insurance company and today we got the word that they had finally completely paid their part, about 17 months after the surgery.
This last spring we tried to sell the house again. It sat vacant, for sale, for $20,000 less than we owe on it for 6 months and we never got an offer. Now we have renters again. We're still renting a two bedroom townhome, while we pay $300 more in our mortgage payment than we receive in rent each month.
That is why I say, the earth around my family has been tilled. I'd like to tell you what figs are like even if they said in Rush Hour that it would be our only reward :-) Just this time, we'll use our story to motivate others in lieu of our heavenly reward. Figs look like the faces of my children as they sit in rapt attention at Rush Hour each Sunday. Figs smell like the pages of a Bible. Figs taste like food for hungry neighbors. Figs sound like the praise my children lifted to Jesus when they led praise and worship at church in the Kids Choir. Figs feel like a warm coat for someone who needs it.

Can I really confess?

Is it even possible to articulate the space between the rapture and mind bending end of my patience with my children? If I found a way to, would you judge me? I can only say yes. Because I'm firmly convinced that nobody else goes through this. I think you all have your ups and downs with your kids but I am sure that I'm the only one seeing stars whether I've just screamed myself dizzy or held my breath too long counting. On the other hand, am I the only one staring in rapt fascination as Kaitlyn forms her expressive mouth into a word, Eden tells me a funny joke or Nick says "amazing" as he stares at something I've baked. No, I'm sure that the happy side and the middle are shared by us all.
This morning I had laid out a set of clothing for Eden, handed her a towel when she got out of the shower and run downstairs to where Kait was in the bath other bath because Eden hates baths and Kaitlyn hates showers. I shampooed, conditioned and brushed Kaits hair, dried her off and procured seasonally appropriate clothing for her. I went back up to the middle floor. Yeah, that's why I have such a girlish figure... or not. I started their lunches, I got cereal bowls out and then asked Eden where she was. There was no reply. I continued, Kaitlyn sat down with her chosen cereal as usual, ready WAY before Eden. I yelled up to Eden that I needed to know what kind of cereal she wanted. No reply. I yelled again after making the peanut butter sandwiches. No reply. How many minutes had transpired... twenty... thirty? I walked up half a flight of stairs and there she was, not a stitch of clothing, hair dripping wet on end with a shirt in her hands. It was not the shirt I had laid out. I felt that vein throbbing in the side of my forehead. She told me she wasn't going to wear that outfit and couldn't find her "skinny" jeans. She brushed past me downstairs and found them folded in a laundry basket. I'll clarify that she turned 8 yesterday. No, she is not 15 or 17 or 18. I did not hold my breath and count! I railed in a most unbecoming fashion. It wasn't patient or kind or understanding and I broke the rule of "don't ask why" that I like to preach. I asked her what she had been doing that WHOLE time up there! When she told me "looking for my skinny jeans" I thought I was going to collapse, I was definitely dizzy. Not because a person should never look for their skinny jeans, but if your jeans are not in the drawer and they're not hanging in the closet, it's time to move on ya know? How does a person spend 20 or possibly 30 minutes looking in the same two spots for a pair of jeans? Eden ate her cereal in about 30 seconds. I swept the other two children out the front door to the car but my phone was ringing and Eden was of course still putting her shoes on and stopped to answer it. (It would be well for all parents of 2 or less children to take note of how easy it is to handle just two children and how impossible it becomes with 3). I buckled Nick, counted to 1! and started screaming again. No response from the house. I marched in, took the phone away and propelled her out to the car, wondering how I will make it another 10 years of this. I just don't think so. It's just not for me. I was good with diapers and burping and all of that jazz, but a diva? No, I cannot handle a diva. THEN, the revelation tonight. It turned out that after struggling against a rash on Eden's face since July of which we have been through hoops over that there had been a transgression. I have banned all things from her face, I have thrown away her toothpaste, I have gotten countless creams, ointments, trips to the doctor and the expensive dermatologist. We've considered food allergy, impetigo, perioral dermatitis, kleenex with lotion... I can't even remember what all we've been through with this, several things multiple times where I would prohibit something and she'd forget or just disobey because she wanted to be glittery etc... and finally, recently I had it almost but not quite gone and then a couple of days ago boom, starts turning red and itching again. I was reading online AGAIN tonight, just going over everything again. Telling Jody this one person had finally beaten the perioral dermatitis by avoiding mouthwash, regular toothpaste, regular shampoo and regular conditioner. I idly mentioned that I had told Eden to cease mouthwash weeks ago and Jody said "no, she was using it last night!" Instantly I felt my mouth go dry, that helpless feeling that no matter how hard I try, Eden will never work with me to make that infernal rash go away. I lost it again. Screaming, railing about her never getting rid of the rash, telling her to go dump out the entire bottle of mouthwash, on and on and on...
In summary, ll I can think is that, God had a special purpose in giving me Eden. Not just because she's a fabulous person and has unlimited potential but because she pushes me in the most indescribable way to the point that I really don't know how to speak clearly let alone think clearly sometimes. How can we get to the point that she's a healthy whole person when she's grown without being damaged by me? How will I empower her to her greatest potential without squashing her spirit? How will I ensure that we can be great friends when she's grown and talk to each other about everything? I think the real kicker is that Nick is so manageable. Kait stresses me a little but Eden has taken me to the edge of my mind since she turned a year old. So these things continue to roll around in my suspiciously warped brain, and they've been confessed now. It will change nothing I suppose. I'll just hope that Eden will read my blog someday and know how much I love her and forgive me, like in that Francine Rivers book I just read. It always turns out happy in the end right?

Today was beautiful in it's own way

When you're a mother of three and all of the kids are sick, you don't think of it as an opportunity for a great day, but it was. Eden cried while holding her pain ridden head in her hands the second she got out of bed, Nick's fever continued to rocket and plummet, he puked on both of the couches and though it's terrible to say, Kaitlyn was the most positively affected because the cold settled in her throat and her voice was impaired to the point that she did not shatter my eardrum for a whole day.Woohoo! Bonus! Just because I'm a glutton for punishment, I declared no TV for the day to boot. You have now decided that my title and opening comments are sickeningly sarcastic. Aha! You are wrong! Eden and Kait were weak and I'm glad I didn't let them go to school but as the day progressed, they felt better and played a grand total of 10 board games in one day including four hilarious rounds of twister! The girls had the energy but Nick was still just laying near them, so they made him a giant pallet on the floor and rigged a roof over it for him, so being sick would be more sensational, which I loved and thought was terribly sweet. On top of that, Eden started reading a book and became so engrossed, I saw her standing at the kitchen counter on one foot with the other propped on her leg, reading it while she waited for something. It was like looking in the mirror at myself when I was 8. Nick was the sad part of the day because he wasn't on the mend until after 4, so I held him when he asked me to hold him and bathed him when he puked, and washed several loads of laundry and prayed for him because he's such a tiny thing. When Jody got home, Kaitlyn had just spelled doctor with the sandpaper letters missing only the second "o" which I thought was very cool and Nick was begging everyone to play Hungry Hungry Hippos. It was just good in so many ways. I'm a lucky, lucky woman to have the freedom to take care of my kids on a sick day without worrying about all of the things that so many Moms do have to worry about. May God help me always see His blessings, know them for what they are and give Him all of the glory. He so obviously loves my family and me very much.

A bouquet

Tonight I sit and glance frequently at a bouquet of roses on my dining table. They're a symbol of what Jody and I would love to be able to give to Michelle today. She turned 19. She has reached the age of being allowed to search and find her birth parents if she so desires. Jody has spent months agonizing over what to write to her. I think his greatest fear is that she may somehow feel that she was rejected by him when every selfish part of his being wanted to renig on the whole adoption and keep her. In light of the sacrificial decisions that Jody and Karen had to make and the impact it had on them personally, I believe that Michelle is grateful to them. Not a single night passes that her name doesn't cross my girls lips. Not a day passes that the single photo we have of her isn't perused. I remember the day that Eden smuggled the picture to school and told all of the students and teachers that it was a picture of her sister and her dad had adopted her, in typical backwards kindergarten communication. When she came home I found the picture and she started to vent to me about the teachers pestering her with so many questions about Michelle. Poor dear, didn't even know what an interesting story that would be to a teacher. I remember when the full impact reached her of why she couldn't call Michelle, and as she processed, she asked if we were going to adopt her to another family. I felt my heart squeeze as she made these logical leaps in her mind. It's such a difficult concept for a child to grasp. I spent so much time explaining to them why Michelle had a different family and all the while I wondered if I might be echoing Michelle's own mother through the years as she raised a little red headed angel that she loved more than life itself. Perhaps she would have been able to give me some pointers. Still, the never ceasing burning inside of both Eden and Kait to meet Michelle amazes me. I think they feel her if that's possible. So Michelle, wherever you are, we've prayed for you. Jody for 19 years and me for the 10 years I've known your sweet face. We've prayed for your peace, your joy, your faith and that you could feel not only your own family's love, but ours as well. God willing, maybe someday we will meet and see for ourselves that you've been sheltered in His wing and called according to His purpose.

Whimsy

I plunked Nick onto the bed after his bath and the towel fell around him. He held his hands up and examined his fingers with a serious concentration. Without even making eye contact with me, he said "my fingers are old..." and then glancing at his feet he said "and my feet are old too." I wonder why it's always such a special interest for me when one of my children exclaims over things that were a particular fascination for me as a child. I feel connected to them, like time doesn't separate our childhoods. That simple purity and happiness.
Kait's favorite question for me these days is "MOM! How many times do I have to tell you?" Her mouth looks like she just sucked on a lemon with a devilish smile curving the edges as she relates her entire 3 hours of school every day. I have a standard line of questions for her. "Did you learn how to spell banana yet? Did you learn how to read a chapter book yet?" and then I just kind of throw in some randoms. She cracks me up. Today she told me there's going to be a new boy in class. I told her in sanctimonious tones that I HOPED she would tell him right away that she's not allowed to have a boyfriend yet, like she had told all of the other boys. She smirked and told me she hadn't had to tell any boys any such thing.
Eden is the enigma. I had been watching her school focus slipping for a couple of weeks and the red marks in the Friday folder seemed to be reflecting her homework attitude. I don't love it, but she has always been one of those children that needs me to metaphorically grab her by the collar and drag her up and go "drill sergeant" every so often. I told her that I was prohibiting any tv during the week and I expected her test results to reflect her abilities, ra ra ra ra. I talked about the difference between people with potential and people with potential and drive. Ra ra ra ra ra. She gave me a winning smile and told me it really didn't matter because she's going to be a rock star when she grows up. Somehow, as I usually do with Eden, I completely forgot I was talking to a second grader. "Do you have any idea what it takes to be a successful rock star? You need a general knowledge of several instruments, you need to know how to read and write music. You have to take voice lessons. You have to be willing to work your heart out! If you want to be a rock star, you are going to have to work for that dream!" Eden stared at me... blink, blink, blink. "Well, I was thinking I'd take over for Hannah Montana if she wants to quit sometime." Can you see my body wilting?
I will say that the papers in the Friday folder were wonderful this past week but I'm not saying that I honestly think anything I did was right. I feel like parenting is just this blindfolded experiment for me. Sometimes I guess things correctly, sometimes... not so much.
Then there's those deep moments with Eden. We were talking about the beautiful scarves Daniel brought from Afghanistan because I saw a woman wearing one. Eden asked me if she was a bad person or a good one. I told her I had no idea and hadn't even thought of that when I saw her, I just wanted to point out that she had a shamash like ours. Eden watched her and said "I don't really care what religion people are, I'll be friends with anyone." It melted me to hear such a natural acceptance of people. I agreed with her and we talked about many different people we know with many different beliefs. I told her that she was smart to understand so early that we should respect people no matter what their religion or creed is but we also need to remember what the difference is between a Christian and people of other beliefs. I gave her a minute and she said "well, we believe in Jesus." and I said "and..." She sat there for a minute and said "they believe in something else." I waited and said "and how does that affect their eternity?" She looked kind of confused so I said, "When we die, we'll go to heaven with Jesus, but someone who denies Him...." She looked rather bleak and said "won't." I felt the great conversation sinking and wanted to lift it back up. I reminded her that is why we're supposed to be a light and salt to all of the earth, so others would want to know Jesus too. She smiled and nodded but I could see the weight. A new responsibility and knowledge of a truth now sat on her shoulders. But that's reality I guess, it seems daunting to me most days too. And if that's her toughest reality, she's a lucky child in this old world full of pain and suffering. One nice thing about Eden, is one conversation about something and it's done. She's got it. So, now we can go to the pumpkin farm, have a birthday party and visit with grandparents without a care in the world other than the lost souls who we must pray for and love without judgment or condemnation.

This message may not be for everyone.

This Sunday our pastor asked that we write down our testimony. How wicked we were before we knew Christ and then when the change came and then how our lives are now. I'm afraid this is going to be a bit outside of the box but give me credit. At least it's true!
I'm on this spiritual journey that kinda hurts, kinda feels good and kinda worries me that maybe I'll just forget what I've learned and wind up back at square one in a couple of years. I think I spent most of my life taking a bit of pride in being willing to square with a person, take my medicine and dish it out... well, mostly I just dished it out with strict measure whether a person liked it or not. I think this was mostly because people were scared to dish it out to me, not because I didn't need some medicine. Then I'd kind of verge into this super annoying perverse pleasure in making people feel very stupid if at all possible. But that wasn't my strongest suit. My strongest suit was sarcasm and knowitallism. I was the queen. I noticed at my wedding that only my guy friends held on to our friendships despite my acrid personality and actually showed up, one even officiating our ceremony. I have no earthly idea why they came but I have to say it really meant something to me that they all made the effort and shared a table and witnessed my rite of passage with smiles on their faces and happily another girl on their arms! LOL! Well, Gin and Di came but they're relatives and they had to because they were my bridesmaids. Oh, oh! I take it back! My sweet Sarah Hunter came! I love her.
Three years ago in February, my life took a huge turn when Gin had finally had it with me. I'd rocked the boat with basically every other member of the family and they had kinda gotten mad then cut me off for awhile, then just shrugged their shoulders, battered and embittered. But Gin had just had it, Mom and Dad's house had burned down and I was pregnant with a baby that I couldn't decide whether to have at home or "shudder" the Mayo Clinic Hosiptal. I was really crazy. I can't believe I actually contemplated that. I even went there for an appointment and tried to get myself to do it. This is a classic example of exactly how crazy some pregnant women get. Somehow, Jody, the one true constant in my life just held me while I cried through this crazy transition in my life, told me with authority that we were having the baby at home (this is so amazing for him to know me so well and love me so well like he did) This emotional drama lasted for about two months. I mean weeping all day and night. Just walking around with a kleenex to my face bursting into sobs as soon as I drank some water and accumulated some tears. It was that season, the one that people talk about that change their lives. It was like I finally saw myself for who I was and felt what God could be to me in spite of it all. Jody lived it to me and I knew I needed it. I knew I was was a wreck and a horridly mean person to countless people. I can't say I received Christ then because I've always known Christ, he's been there speaking to me my whole life. I've argued with Him, fought Him, loved him, spoken to Him and had Him speak to me. I've wrestled with God on every level. It goes back so far it's almost like he was one of my siblings that I argued with all of the time. I'd make my case, sometimes he'd throw down and give me an ultimatum and I'd take the recommended path or sometimes, I'd say NO, I'm going this way and I mean it! I have specific instances running through my mind but they probably would be a total rabbit trail here. So anyway, there was this breaking point where all of my walls came crashing down. I was alone except for Jody and God. I had my parents but they were going through a major crisis and thankfully I somehow realized that I did not need to be laying all of that on them. I started making a concerted effort to be more thoughtful of the people in my life who really mean something to me and felt remorse when I started fights etc... I was growing, mainly just with Jody and Gin, but it was there. I noticed that with every new relationship I started, I treated people differently than I had when I was younger and that I was careful not to replicate old behaviors but with old relationships it was the hardest. Anway, there was a true awareness of other peoples feelings and my motives in all of my millions of "confrontations" I had started were becoming painfully clear and I was learning the "Spirit of the Law" as my mom has always said. Then the 2008 elections came and I have to say that everything kinda went out the window. Now this is a perfect example of why I'm hoping I've really had an epiphany but kinda fearful that my old stubborn streak will win out (that's the SIN that Cain wrestled with and God so kindly pointed out that he could BEAT it if he TRIED). So yeah, the 2008 elections were very much a struggle, and I have to admit, a weak spot in my character, yes, I guess if anybody wonders if God can love them, they can read this and know that for sure, if that girl lives with the confidence that God will patiently love her through her "ELECTION FEVER", and forgive her for her hot headed, bull headed, stubborn craziness and then forgive her when she repents... then yeah, He really can love me too. Alright, so that little test of my character was, pretty ugly and I probably wrecked my witness to more than one person because I completely cast aside the whole "love motive" thing and somehow thought that I could convince people to agree with me by hysterically screaming at them, on the verge of tears over their blindness... oh ish, I hope this little confession helps some other poor sinner like me and encourages them in that weird reverse sort of way without totally distracting them from the point of this story. So you're seeing my very winding, path here... oh maybe it's "the one less traveled" right? Nah, I don't think so, nice thought contrary corner of brain that presents late at night, but no, it was the easy self indulgent path that likes strife and arguments and creating chaos and division, the one that leads people far far away from God and certainly not to Him. It was that path. So, I slowly worked out of the election cycle and have survived the current president with a small amount of grace... am I giving myself too much credit? Well maybe I'm doing reverse psycology on msyelf. Work with me here. You know you aren't supposed to judge me! And then conflict seemed to come from every corner but I wasn't creating it anymore. I suddenly realized that I was NOT the only person with that disease and they were totally RAINING on my parade every day. Three days ago I actually confided to Gin that I am completely SURE that there is a secret meeting being held. It is the "Betsy hasn't been shit on today" meeting. And they go around entertaining volunteers and let them present their "Shit on Betsy" plan and then select the very best one. So it really hurts, like wow! "That was a CHRISTIAN God!!!!!" And in our usual relationship fashion he looks at me incredulously and says "So are you!" So that's my testimony. I was supposed to share the life changing moment and how it's been such a glory day ever since I gave my heart to Jesus but, well, as you can see, all I've done is a disertation on shit. But I can't think of any other word to describe how it feels when people hurt you and that's my message. I really wish I were just allowed to be eternally happy but the fact is I've hurt alot of people and shit on them, and sometimes I get hurt and shit on too, but I guess that's what Love showers are for. So thanks to my bud Jen for finally talking me into joining a Bible Study for the first time in my adult life and encouraging me to grow, and believing I am a good friend to have and loving me and mostly just not shitting on me. Thanks to Knelly for being such a great friend. And thanks to my parents for the foundation that has held me through many a shit storm in the last three years. Thanks to my sister Gin for being the best sister a girl could have. A huge thanks to my Love for living Jesus for me every day of our marriage, tempering my words when they need tempering and making me happy even on the days I've been shit on. Thanks most of all to Jesus for helping me keep it real and loving me in my wicked state.

Do you believe in magic?

I do. I believe in God's magic anyway.
I woke up on Sunday morning with the worst vertigo. I looked at the empty spot in the bed where Jody should have been and knew he had drug himself into work to get a project out by a deadline (insert the music with those words "all by myself, don't wanna be... all by myself"). I've had a middle ear infection before but I knew this was from my severe allergies. I've been blowing my nose like a cartoon character lately. I stood in the shower with my entire back pressed against the wall with the world reeling. I had to go pick Eden up from a sleepover. I drug Kait and Nick out to the car and drove with my teeth gritted. We picked Eden up who was incredibly groggy and grouchy from staying up too late. I drove back home to feed everyone some food. I had to focus every step I took, and then Nick had a fit. He shoved his cereal bowl across the table and milk and cheerios slopped out. I told him to "EAT!" so he started grabbing individual cheerios out and throwing them backwards over his shoulder. I transported him to his room to think about his actions and collapsed on the couch. I told Kait I just didn't have it in me to take them to church. She told me that would be fine, she just needed my phone so she could call Daddy because she was sure he would understand and come home and take her to church. I was in full throttle "victim" mode so I told her if she was going to be like that I would take them to church. I went upstairs and retrieved Nick. I made it to the van again by sheer grit while yelling at all of my children for various transgressions. My neighbor Peter was in his yard and cheerfully greeted me. He's a self proclaimed agnostic so I always try to consider it my special job to be "Christs Love" to him. I greeted him with gritted teeth and told him I was going to have to do a lot of repenting for the number of sins I'd committed against my children in my effort to get them to church. He found that quite amusing and made a witty remark, sending me off wondering which of us was living a better example for the other. We were about 15 minutes late for Rush Hour but that's kind of an Allen family tradition so it was cool. I reeled into the building, clung to the chair in front of me and the message was on "responsibility". Well, I knew for sure Eden needed to hear that so I got my chin up. We are not going to open up for examination whether I needed to hear about that myself. Somehow I survived the bobbing happy people on the stage and got all of the children to their classes for the first time in my life. Jody always takes two and leaves me one. I was really missing him. I tried to be as inconspicuous as possible while clinging to railings and trying not to think about throwing up. I'd now been trying to function normally for about 3 hours give or take and it was starting to take it's toll. I went past the door where I knew my van was parked and I'd be lying if I didn't confess that running away crossed my mind. I sat down in the sanctuary. I wasn't even bothering to stand when they said stand, clap when they said clap or bow when they said bow. I just sat in the pew with my back pressed against the wood trying to be as still as possible. The sermon was fantastic as usual. I can always count on Pastor Alan to convict me, uplift me and motivate me. We continued to study how to be more Christ like from the gospel of Luke and I had found myself skipping around finding all of these examples of how much God loves me and even the comparison where Jesus asked how much more God must love his children than a parent loves their own. I thought about how much I love Eden, Kait and Nick. Most of my time is spent on them, making their lives as great as I can. Then I think Pastor Alan read "Psalm 37:4 Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart."
Or maybe I just thought about it. Anyway, I was kind of thinking about how to delight myself in the Lord and as we took communion I sat there telling God that I really wanted to bring the girls to Childrens Choir because I want them to have more of His Word hidden in their hearts but I needed him to give me the push he'd given me that morning. Then I thought again about how much He loved me. I told Him that I had no doubt of his ability to heal me of the vertigo and that I would really love to be healed but I needed His help one way or another. I took communion and felt peaceful. Then Jesus did his magic on me and the vertigo went away. I took the kids to Children's Choir and felt so completely happy.

wah wah wah!

Can I have a wah wah post? Why, yes, of course I can have a wah wah post, this is my blog!
I will say that for the most part, we had a good day and I'm a happy person and I'm not just a big meanie but at about... eh 4PM things kinda started to slide downhill.
Eden has had a rash on her face for two months or more... I took her to the doc before school and she told me to put antibiotic ointment on it. Yep, took my $20. Didn't work, so she said to put cortisone cream on it. Didn't work. Said I had to see a specialist! What? That's all a doctor can do? Suggest that you wander around a pharmacy grabbing random creams and smearing them around on your kids face while the damn rash grows? So today we got our appointment with the specialist and I had to pay $50. She came in, smiled at Eden, told me it was some kind of dermatitis and gave me a prescription. For real? I had to pay $50 for that? How annoying! Then she turns on me and gets this expression of horror and disgust and says "What is going ON with your NOSE?" I took it pretty easily and said, "yeah, I'm starting to wonder the same thing as I look at your giant chart of skin cancer." She quizzed me on the growth of my nose mole and I honestly couldn't give her an informative answer. I have no idea if my mole has changed. It's just not too high on my priority list. I mean I stare at my eyebrows that aren't plucked, not the same ugly old mole that's always been on my nose! She sent me into a tizzy. I said "do you think it's cancer????" She said "well, it certainly needs to be biopsied, it's VERY unusual!" She, of course has no idea what I've been through with cancer lately. I drove home ran straight to Theresa's house and laid on her couch having a fit of hysterics. Well, mainly just hypothesizing the worst case scenario which I equate with hysterics in retrospect. This was completely inappropriate behavior as I am quite sure Theresa has enough on her plate. Meanwhile, the kids are just kind of wandering between her house and mine while I pay very little attention. Finally, either I pulled myself together or Theresa pulled me together and I announced that my brood was going to evacuate and make her home a sanctuary again. I walked up on my porch and the door was locked. Eden told me that Kait had locked it. No problem, I went and hit the garage door opener. I walked into the garage and the door to the house from the garage was locked. I pulled out my keys and low and behold I'd never put it back on the key ring after leaving it with Theresa while we went to Yellowstone. I walked around the side of the house and Kait was trying to open the window to the basement. I uttered some bitter words to her and headed up the stairs to the deck. I grabbed the sliding glass door and it was locked. I looked up at my bedroom window on the third floor and it was open with the curtain fluttering in the breeze. I went down and got the ladder while phoning to Jody to bitterly account to him the situation. I wrestled it up the steps while the new neighbor kindly offered to help in some way. I grouchily told him I was fine and gave Kait another scathing look. I wrestled it up the stairs of the deck and the man decided to just jump over the fence and help me all the same. We wrestled it around on the deck, admitting we should have adjusted it in the yard and not on the tiny deck but we finally got it to a workable height and I scaled it while Theresa stood out on her giant boat dock... I mean deck and made exclamations. I announced that I needed a dinner knife or a flat head screwdriver which she promptly procured and I popped the screen open and crawled through. There was an applause from the deck and I went downstairs and opened the sliding glass door. By this time I was very sweaty and hot. Jody called to ask why I hadn't used the garage door opener... ugh! Re-explained the situation to him and he said he'd be home after 7... triple ugh! I came inside and Mom called. I really did wish she were here to massage me but alas, I still had to torture Eden through her homework and make dinner. I ran back outside and started the grill and ran in circles looking for a part for the food processor so I could slice potatoes for oven fries. I finally gave up and hand chopped them. I found it about 30 minutes later on the filing cabinet. I wish my brain had all of the connections. I hadn't even remembered it being in my possession. Somehow it came together nicely and we had burgers, oven fries and asparagus for dinner. The girls are in bed now but I am having to delete about every third letter because the little guy is torturing me by sneaking over and typing a random letter or number here and there. I'll give him a minute...
et5555ytttttttttttttttttuyo'[sjktjgrmntfhyrfhdyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

September nostalgia

I really don't think there's anyone who doesn't start to get nostalgic this time of year. You feel the crisp air, you know that another summer has slipped away and somehow you just can't help slipping back to another fall that changed your life or just felt the same in some way. We sat at Golden Ponds feeding the ducks stale bread today and somehow I traveled back to the trailing end of farmers market in Mantorville when we lived in Kasson. The kids played at the park while I junk shopped, got some random preserves or squash from the vendors and let the old ladies oogle Nick in a sling. It was so calm. I always felt so relaxed at that park just like today as I tried to toss my stale bread pieces to the furthest duck and for once just sat and stared at what the ducks looked like instead of my kids. Most of the time I'm watching them to try and memorize their movements, their expressions, their size, their mispronunciations, their new skills or their unaware adorableness. I'm glad I spend most of my time doing that but there is something very relaxing about staring at a ducks face and thinking he has a joker smile or discussing which one everyone thinks is the prettiest. It's just free.
The sermon this week at church was on kindness. He preached from Luke 4 and even read the verse where Jesus tells us to pray for those who hurt you. It hit me deep. I was hurt by someone recently and to be called so specifically to pray for them was good but intense. I walked out of that service with a renewed determination to show kindness to people. I've found several opportunities to show kindness to people who are very different from me which I did purposefully and it seems like I just enjoy being kind to people more when I do it with such purpose but I don't know why.

To laugh or not to laugh... that is the question

Kait has now crossed the threshold of schooldays. She marched off to school on her first day with very high hopes. Her expectations were higher than her eyebrows and it does seem like her eyebrows are very high most of the time as she raises them for effect when she pronounces each syllable of a word. That's only about 70% of the time but it's not what this blog is about.
So, Kait had her assessment the third day of school and came out exclaiming that she thought she did very well and that she liked her new teachers. A couple of days later she told me that she had learned something very important about math during her assessment. I showed the proper interest and she continued while KLOVE blared in the background and I'm sorry to say I temporarily tuned out but came back with a snap when she said "and that's what it means to 'predict', so now I know what the word 'predict' means.
On Monday the kids had the day off and I was out of whole milk so I asked if they'd like me to make some oatmeal and eggs. Kait replied "well, I'd rather have pancakes... that is IF you know how..."
I tried not to smile and said "I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that."
She got quite a bit of mirth out of that and smiled rather triumphantly.
I asked if she thought they'd like to have the oatmeal pancakes I occasionally make and she said "well, not really... you see... those don't really.... um... agree with my taste buds." (while tapping her tongue with her finger for emphasis)
Alright so she won that round, and got her pancakes but never told me if they were up to snuff with the holy grail of Daddy's pancakes.
Now, yesterday she got home from school and had been here for a bit and then said "Mom, I need to talk to you about something." I said "really?" She nodded and said "I am disappointed with Flagstaff Academy." I nodded and said "why?" She said "well, I thought it was going to be harder but it's not, and they made me sit and color for 30 minutes. It's just too boring." I told her I'd let Ms. Millane know she wanted harder work (just humoring her, I mean they have to do a lot of boring remedial stuff for the first few weeks of school.) She had similar conversations with every member of our family before the night was over, the last one to her Daddy ended with a bit of moisture in her eyes. Her "school honeymoon" had already ended. Today she got in the car and immediately said "Mom, do you have Mrs. Millane's phone number? I want you to call her and tell her that school is not hard enough." I pulled forward and waved Mrs. Millane over. She came over and I reiterated everything to her within Kait's hearing. She smiled and she reassured Kait that it would get harder. Kait oversaw this with her eyebrows raised, I suppose to show us the gravity of the situation. When we got home she told me we had better go downstairs and find some hard school work for her to do. And she did. LOL!
And finally, there's that bit about finding it necessary to use five syllable words in most sentences as Poppy put it. Sunday, Kait told Jody that she didn't know the names of the children in her class at church. He said, "well, their names are right on their shirts." Her voice got an edge and she said "well Dad, I can't just read their names immediately, like you can."
Ah, Kaity Kat. Someday, I will cry with laughter when I read this again and I'll hug you and be so glad I know you. You three are the biggest stress reliever a Mom could ever have. With you guys around I don't have to find things to laugh about, rather it seems I'm always trying to not.

When will she be baptized?

So tonight we had a wonderful night. My friends Jen and Dan left their kids with us for the day while they did the most hair raising race up Copper Mountain I've ever heard of. It included crawling under barbed wire through pits of mud, jumping over fire pits and crawling up and down piles of hay bales. Very entertaining in the retelling but it's not my story. After the race, they showed up with Mexican takeout from a great little restaurant in Erie and I made margaritas. We had a great night.
When the party was over, I'd had two margartias and Eden was missing the stone from one of her opal earrings. I decided to show them the special item from my jewelry box that had somehow survived for 26 of my 30 years. I showed them the ring my dear Granny gave me when I was four. I told them of how it was lost and then found again in the emergency room after my arm was broken when I was twelve. Then I showed them the charm from my first Mothers Day and told them it had at one time been lost for two years only to be found in the final clean out of the Durango before we sold it. Eden and I had a great connection through these stories and she felt more hopeful about finding the opal but then I showed them the single earring from the pair Jody had bought for me to match the ring they've seen me wear every day their entire lives. It devastated Eden but it showed her that sometimes thing turn out well, but sometimes you deal with disappointment.
Somehow, despite my slightly impaired state, the subject turned to my faith. And in a rare and completely open moment Eden said "Mom, part of me wants to get baptized but part of me doesn't." I said "I am so glad you told me that! I want to know when the day comes that you completely believe that Jesus died on the cross for your sins. When you know that and you are completely sure, you'll be ready to get baptized. It's kind of like when you get married, you put your hand in the hand of a man and you promise that you will love him for the rest of your life and you'll never deny it to anyone. When you are ready to put your hand into Jesus' and make that promise Him, you'll be ready to be baptized." She looked at me with a dead serious stare and said "Mom, when you say it that way, I think I do believe it. But how are you sure that the Bible is the oldest book in the world? Have you read all of the old books to be sure?" I felt like I had just been hit between the eyes. I thought "okay, why did I think tonight was the night to drink two margaritas? How did I not consider that tonight might be the night that Eden reaches out to me for true faith and expect exceptional answers?" I looked into her luminous eyes and I said, "Eden, I have read old books, and yes I am sure the Bible is the oldest and I have just read alot of books in general, but do you know what? I'm going to find out what the oldest books are and be sure we find out all about them." She smiled with her pure simple confidence in me and said "what if they found a really old Bible? Wouldn't that be cool?" I said, "do you know what they did find?" She said "what?" I said "they found the dead sea scrolls, and they were written on papyrus" (I thought her eyes were going to pop out her head) and do you know what they found?" "What?" They found that the words on these ancient scrolls were the same as the Bible ours is translated from today. The words are verbatim, exactly the same!" I saw joy spring into her eyes and I knew, she isn't easy, she won't just believe what a person tells her to, but Eden will find her way to the truth and she'll have an unshakable foundation. So, to anyone wondering, no Eden won't get baptized this Sunday, but I'm pretty sure that when she does, she'll mean it with her heart, soul and mind. She has the most analytical mind I could ever imagine and she's amazing, simply amazing and wonderful.
And to anyone wondering about my emotional state, I cried several times tonight. The girls gave me several kleenexes and even took my glasses away at one point which was really a struggle because Kait temporarily lost one of the pieces of jewelry I was using as an example. LOL!

2010-08-15

The Circuitous Path

As I turned onto our street, my eyes were glued to the 100 inch long sofa in the back of the truck. The rope had slipped down to the legs and each small bump was giving me a jump. Suddenly the bump of my life hit and I realized that I had hit a large curb with the van and shot the front tire. I oozed the car over to the curb and got out and walked home. My shoulders slumped and I trudged up the driveway to make my confession to Jody. He didn't say much which made me want to kick myself or put an icepick through my hand, I wasn't sure which. We headed up the street and he looked at the tire. We went back down the street to grab the jack and all of the kids. I looked at the couches I'd just purchased to hopefully net $300 profit. "Well, I wish I hadn't bought those couches" I said. He looked up surprised and asked me why. I rambled on about how if I hadn't bought the couches I wouldn't have popped the tire and blah blah blah. He still didn't say much and was about to go in the house. He paused and looked back at me with a twinkle in his eye and said "well, I don't think we'll be able to salvage the tire!". My eyes almost bugged completely out of my head. "Well, of course not, the side wall is shredded Jody!" He gave a chuckle and said "oh they were just about shot anyway!" And then I really did want to put an icepick through my hand just because I was sure I didn't deserve a husband like that.
I spent the next three days mulling over what we should do. Should we get two new tires, one new tire, four used wheels with tires so we could switch winter tires easier or just used tires in general? On Monday Jody and I hunted through Craigslist and I called every tire dealer in Longmont and Boulder. While on the phone with a tire dealer I realized that the rear tire had a huge bubble and was about to pop. I guess I grazed the curb with it too. UGH. We decided to buy four used tires from a guy down in Centennial for $100. I drove down during rush hour, threw them in the truck and flew up to Erie for Kaitlyn's meet the class party. It was easily 3 hours spent in the car and $20 or more for gas. I got them home and Jody pointed out that one was bald and the others weren't in the greatest shape. I beat myself up about that for awhile and then went to bed. The next day we took the tires over to Discount Tire and I asked a nice guy named Josh to please pick out the four best tires and put them on the van. He went back and forth examining and finally stood in front of me with an apologetic expression. "Ma'am, those tires aren't going to fit your van." All of the air rushed out of me. I said "they're 16s aren't they?" He nodded silently. "My husband is going to KILL me for not double checking the size" I knew it was a lie because Jody is a saint and for some reason he loves me in spite of every idiotic thing I do and he'll still just pull me in for a hug and tell me he loves my legs or that I'm cute in those pants. The nice tire guy said "did you buy these here or did they come on your van?" I said "my husband bought them here" rather miserably and without expectation. He said "can I check the mileage? We might be able to work something out." I figured best case scenario, this was going to be a $10 discount on new tires or something but hey, I wasn't going to dick around anymore, it was time for me to lay down some cold, hard, nonexistent cash. He held the door open for my ragtag crew and I stood at the counter while all three children sat on high stools swiveling themselves around at dizzying speeds and Josh typed and typed. Finally he looked up at me and smiled "Ma'am, I can put two new tires on your van for $48. The room tilted and for a second I swear I was going to hug him... then I briefly considered telling him that I would hug him if I wasn't so sweaty... then I just said "you're kidding me." He shook his head and said "your husband got road hazard and they're fully covered. You just have to pay to renew the hazard and $15 per tire to have them mounted. You think that'll make him happy?" Here he was actually thinking I had a mean husband. LOL! I guess it served me well to make Jody out as a monster. I nodded and blinked. I said, "so are they the same tires?" He said, "well, actually you had 50,000 mile tires and we're going to put 85,000 mile tires on because that's what we have on hand." I thanked him several times and left.
I called the craigslist man in Centennial and he agreed to take the tires back because he had sold them to me as 17s and they were 16s. I just had to drive back to Centennial.
I told Jody later that it seems some people take direct routes to accomplish things and some people like me, consistently take the longest hardest path possible to accomplish basically the same thing. Rather like the process of identifying Jody's cancer and removing it. Did it really need to take 12+ years? Perhaps that's why it's so hard to sell our house. Once we have completed our very long and arduous route, we'll arrive at basically the same conclusion as everyone else. And maybe, if nothing else, we'll appreciate the result more than someone who put their house on the market and sold it in one week. I can't say that I can see a greater benefit from the long hard route, but it's a life. Maybe the lesson is patience. Patience is, after all, a virtue. And I can't think of a single person who's ever said "Jody and Elizabeth are the most patient people I know".

Living in the now.

The other day I was talked into taking all three of my children to the BMX track in the pouring heat (mid 90's) without Jody. When we arrived Nick examined the track with nothing short of delight. He ran to the top of the nearest hill and shouted some gibberish including the words "bike" and "down" while gesturing at me and his strider (which is still too large for him) I smiled and scaled the hill in my Chaco sandals with the strider in hand. When I got to the top and looked down I said "well, buddy, I really don't think we should do this, it looks way too big for you..." He smiled at me again with that winsome grin and said "but zoom zoom Mommy, zoom zoom!" In a moment of foolish parenting I turned to mush and acquiesced. We began hurdling down the hill and I tried to put my sandals into a skid which seemed to work more like a slide and then one of us lost control. We went something over teakettle and well, it was a very dusty and humiliating experience. I still have a wound on my hand that got infected at one point and Nick makes a point of kissing practically every day. What really put me over the top was when Jody's friend Tony casually mentioned to me that maybe we'd be better off on the little kid course on the other side of the BMX track. Yes, that's right. He watched us hurdle to what could have been my child's ultimate demise knowing full well that there was a much wiser alternative a stones throw away. I have not quite forgiven him yet.
We dropped the price on the Kasson house and aren't very hopeful. It's disappointing to see something you loved and invested so much time, money and energy into losing value every time you inhale or exhale but we've reached the point of not caring. No matter how low we have to go, we'll do it now. It took alot of time to get to this point, but we've reached it, so hopefully it'll be a blessing to someone else.
At last checkup a couple of months ago, Jody's cancer appears to be well in check. I suppose that Dr. Grant, who I can't help but have a little crush on, did a fantastic job even if the insurance company disagreed. We've been back and forth with them about four times now. They've haltingly paid a little more each time. Here's hoping that now, a year after Jody's successful surgery we'll at least get that resolved.
Gin will be here in a few days and I truly hope to make the time to blog while she's here and document some more wonderful childhood memories her trips afford our kids. A camping trip to Yellowstone is in the works this time. I can only imagine the great memories for the cousins to share.
Eden and I just watched Cary Grant's last movie "Walk, Don't Run." It was a very good film.
So, after spending three straight days painting at least 14 hours each day, I finished painting my entry and living room. It was grueling and with out sheer determination and little people constantly bragging on my work, I'm sure I would have thrown my paintbrush at a light fixture and gone to the pool but I am SO glad it's done. It's inspired me to do some decorating which I used to love and basically just put on hold after leaving Kasson. When I look at the pictures I took when we were trying to sell that home, I see the care I took with the placement of each item there. When I look around here, I'm starting to see it again.

A Happy Father's Day

Friday Jody got home from a very long week of work. I guess he worked around 60 hours while I sat and mulled over which park to hit, whether I should have a second Corona at Jen's house or how I was going to summon the energy to hit the pool again. He got out of the truck with a six pack of Mikes Margarita's for me and a heart melting smile on his face. I mean, can I be any more spoiled? I was supposed to have dinner made and a beer in hand for him after a week like that! Anyway, we rushed him in the house to open his present from us and examine his handmade cards. Why I didn't photo any of this is now beyond me and why I have not a single photo of Jody with the kids for Father's day is another unforgivable faux pas. Everything we got him fit perfectly, a major coup for me! I never seem to get just the right thing! Then we chilled for the rest of the evening and Jody and the girls went and picked up QDoba for dinner. The next day we packed up way too much stuff and headed up to Wind River Ranch in Estes Park for the night. Jody had some work to do up there (surprise, surprise!)We went swimming which was such a hoot with Nick. I put this life jacket on him and he just swam around all proud and giddy. Hilarious. Eden mastered swimming on her back across the pool. Kaitlyn just ran around worried that she was too hot in the hot tub and too cold in the pool and finally deciding she should just supervise. Jody eventually chased us all back to the cabin which due to some confusion didn't have sheets and towels yet. I jumped into some clothes and it wasn't a moment too soon because a breath later three men were in our room with us trying to insist on making our bed for us while I washed my makeup off in the sink. I shook hands blindly because I hadn't found my glasses yet and was trying not to be rude. I don't know how I managed to keep the giggles at bay during this serious discussion but we did manage to get all of those men out without them making our beds for us. I think that if I had let them do it, I'd have to have been allowed to video tape it for America's Funniest Home Videos. Especially the tall guy with the handlebar mustache and straw hat. We meandered around the ranch on Father's Day morning while Jody worked (of course, see the pattern here?) the kids fed the horses, we inspected the work Jody was doing, we played on the playground, pretended in the ghost town clapboard building thingy and had a good time. We finished things off with another trip to the pool and then headed back down to Longmont. I got rib eyes, corn on the cob, grilling veggies and some fresh bread and we made what Jody thought was the best dinner in months. We polished the night off with raspberry milkshakes. That was our Father's Day and I think it might be one of the best!
A few funny moments I'd like to document for laughter later.
Eden: Kaitlyn, have you ever kissed a toad?
Kaitlyn: Nooooo...
Eden: I have.
Kaitlyn: Did it turn into a prince?
Eden: Well, no but it was really funny, he was just sitting there staring at me and I held him like this and kissed him. (giggle giggle)

Nick has ratted all over the Wind River Ranch and he stands surveying a wooded area. He says "Mommy, the bears are through that jungle."

Kaitlyn sits staring at Karhys in the bouncy seat with the vibrator on. Her assessment "I think it feels to her like she's going up into outer space".

She also found it so interesting that Karhys liked the quilt on the wall that she asked Hannah if she thought it reminded Karhys of something she had at home.

One more on her, we are trying to watch something on TV and her terrible Handy Manny music on the computer with the computer game is so loud, we beg her to turn it off. She casually goes to the volume settings and turns it off. How many barely 5 year olds can do that? I honestly don't know. Maybe it's fairly common but I guess it doesn't matter when something becomes an accomplishment for a child, it's still just as amazing.

Mundane

Maybe this will go down like a good Lawrence story. I'll just start typing and realize I have a very entertaining life and think of some amazing moments to share. It really doesn't matter what I write, so long as I get the drug of having written. I've had a mommy night. I watched two episodes of "Parenthood" and the season finale of "House" while continuing to fold the 8 loads of laundry I had procrastinated. Jody came down to tell me good night. I wrapped my toes around him and just smiled into his eyes, knowing he's the only one who can make me feel like a school girl. Then I had to blog. I could stay up all night on nights like this. Loving my life and thinking about the greatness of God, people, flowers, chocolate and the internet.
Eden's Grandpa Barry got her a book, eh, two years ago. It's "The Adventures of Frog and Toad." Suddenly she loves to read it. It's the first book that Eden reads just for the fun of reading. I find her piled up reading it and chuckling her way through it. It's a breakthrough. There is no magic like watching my girl with a book open as her eyes slide from left to right and expressions play across her face. First grade has been a real journey for us. Eden's understanding of the purpose of school started a little differently than my brain could process. She began the year with a little folder to put "incomplete papers" in. Well, she just considered it a great place for things she never got around to finishing. Naturally, it all came home to roost with her homework. Ms. Baxter had no alternative but to send home the biggest pile of half finished junk you've ever seen. This kind of halfway (I'm using a nice term here, take note people!) approach lasted until the first parent teacher conference. Ms. Baxter (the Great) told Jody that Eden was lagging in basically every subject. We had a come to Jesus meeting the next night and a rare level of communication was achieved. I said "Eden, did you know that you actually need to do well in 1st grade in order to move on to 2nd grade with your friends?" My daughter had no idea. I just have to say I felt like I was talking to a marshan because when I was in school, if someone had told me I was going to have to settle for being less than "smartest kid in the class" I might as well have been told to wear a dunce cap. She really thought she was going to school for story hour and braiding her friends hair. I shared this with my mother who instantly identified with Eden. I found it astounding because she was valedictorian of her class. She told me she never even tried in school until junior high when a teacher expected more of her. Great, so I got a mini Mom.... not only was this exasperating but shocking. She drove me crazy as a kid, always slashing red marks all over my writing and now here she was admitting she was a half hazard student herself. I almost wish she'd never tell me any more true stories. They're too overwhelming of a contrast against the mother/teacher I remember. At any rate, we started incentivizing progress and Eden jumped in and started putting her nose to the grindstone. Still, reading was such a struggle. We slugged our way through the required 30 minutes of reading each night, thinking the day that Eden would ever read for the joy of it was a la la dream. Now, we've had the breakthrough and made a trip to the bookstore for another Frog and Toad book and a horse book and a pony book. This is a landmark moment for us, because I always get books from thrift stores and the book sale at the library but I feel like I have this hairline opening and I don't want to screw it up with another dry history book on the Founding Fathers, a random chapter book way too advanced for her or Junie B. Jones (the worst kids books ever). She read all afternoon. Amazing. For this, I tip my hat to Ms. Baxter and all of the teachers at Flagstaff who have worked with Eden. Anyone who knows us both well, knows that Eden is marvelous, no fantastic but she can say or do just about anything school related in such a way that it will drive me insane with frustration. By the same token, I can say just about anything in such a way that will automatically lock Eden up and put her into "non-learning" mode. If a person wants to see me cringe, just tell me I should homeschool her. OMG!!!!!!! So, it's been a year of huge accomplishment. She's on the right track. It's just a load off of my shoulders. I am so thankful, so glad, so happy and I'm really anticipating summer. It's going to be a blast. I just know it.

Mother's Day

When I became a mother, it had little meaning beyond the moment. I didn't analyze much beyond what it would be like when she said "momma" the first time or how exciting it would be when she rolled over. I didn't know how tough it would be and I certainly didn't think about school. Whew. I've made it about seven years now. It's up and down and over and under. Sometimes I don't know how I can take it. Sometimes I know I'm not hacking it. Sometimes I float as I bask in a smile. Sometimes I just survive. Sometimes I thrive. Sometimes I know I'm doing well but sometimes I know I'm not. It's easy to feel kind of abused when you have three kids. They're just clammoring for more of you and fighting for the lap so I can be their furniture. It doesn't seem to possibly matter what I want to offer them, they'd rather have something else. And yet, in those special moments, I feel that love where they want to show me. Today Kait was cleaning up the living room so it would be clean when I came downstairs for breakfast. She came up the stairs huffing and puffing with a huge armload of books. You know, I'm the only one who ever huffs and puffs up the stairs with armloads of books, so that meant something to me. I thanked her and she said "Well, Eden won't even help me, she's just laying down there in the floor pretending to be crucified on the cross." For real, it's hilarious to hear Kaitlyn's little chirpy voice say the word "crucified". I think about that now and wonder how I can be such a martyr about being a mother, but I often am. The work definitley pulls me down when I lose track of the blessings and the joys that God gave me here on this earth. I am blessed. I have a charming redhead lover, three blonde beauties and a life most could only dream of. And so, I thank you God, for the beautiful Mother's Day with homemade waffles, three beautiful children marching off to church, flowers everywhere and pots to put them in, the sun in the back yard and the neighbors to share dinner with. I am blessed... and now I shall go sleep in that wonderful bed. If only I'd gotten a picture.

And then she was 5

Every birthday my kids have, I have to reminisce about the day they were born. I remind Kait that she flew out of me like a flash. I tell her that she screamed like a mad woman as soon as they placed her in my arms and she hasn't turned off the vocal chords since (which I don't say).I picture her first bath, her smiles within the first week of her life. Her dimpled smile on the swingset in Kasson. Marveling as she scooted across the floor like an inchworm at Christmas time. Laughing as she stood by the leapfrog table covered in chocolate as Eden's words of "Mom she likes chocolate!" finally sank in. I don't remember her first steps but it doesn't really bother me because I do remember so many things. My 18 month old held her sole diet of blueberries in her hand and said "look, I got seven!" Coincidentally, she did! Watching her learn to ride a trike Grandpa brought her on her second birthday. Taking away her binky shortly after her second birthday explaining that we needed it for the baby. She stuck it in my belly button and asked the baby if it liked it. Then, her face as she welcomed her baby brother into the world in her old bedroom. After we moved to Longmont I remember her loving the trampoline I picked up but only if everyone jumped the way she told them to. I've loved teaching her to read, to count, geography... everything. She's my sponge. Spouting out all of the things I don't want repeated! The stories she can weave, the dreams she can concoct. If one person had to bear the load of things in Kait's brain bursting to come out, it would be mind bending. She spends hours every week on the phone and skype. Even my whole family can't bear the words. People asked me what to give Kait for her birthday this year and I was dumbfounded. What do you give to someone who just talks nonstop all day every day? Today she asked me to identify whether things were man made or nature all the way across town. She's ceaseless and none of it seems to be connected or remotely predictable. Well, I love you little girl and I hope you love these little reminscing blogs when you're older and wonder what we saw.

Olive My Love

If you have children and haven't read them that book, you must. I just love that book.
I guess I'm kind of a hopeless romantic and I'm sure it comes from my Dad's side of the family. Apparently Granny was wooed by Poppy in the most outlandish way but I can't possibly retell the story because I'd mess up the details. Something to do with him coming to her place of work every day and sitting like an Indian until she agreed to go out with him. By the same token my dad told my mom to either change her phone number or to tell him to go fly a kite and that was his proposal. I remember him singing her the song he had written for her and loving the romantic qualities in him. So, it only makes sense that I spent my entire childhood and teenage years concocting the most elaborate scenarios in my head of how I would meet the man I'd fall in love with and what a hopeless romantic he would be. Instead I got the most classic beginnings of all. I sat at the front desk of Carroll & Lang, answering calls and transferring them to the appropriate people when the door swung open and a redhead in a blue oxford with a roll plans under his arm walked in. That's it. It happened a thousand times while I worked at Carroll & Lange, but that's the one that mattered. Now, eleven years later, I don't think I could have made a better choice than asking him to go to a hockey game with me. He's really "the one." I always joke that no other man would have stayed married to me or avoided the dread "cast iron skillet" like Jody. I joke, but at the same time, I really mean it. I'm pretty rough around the edges and Jody really takes that edge off. I remember every guy I ever kinda liked and think about how bad I set them off with my razor tounge... I even slapped one of em... eeek. For sure, Jody's the only one who has ever taken the fight out of me. Completely. No matter how mad I get about silly little things (because I'm a firecracker)I just can't quite be mean to him. If we've ever had a rocky time, it was because one of us didn't do enough to show love or appreciation, but I'm happy to say that in eleven years knowing Jody, I don't have those piercing memories of striking out at him like I do with every other person I've known for any length of time. As a matter of fact, he's quite possibly the only person that really gets me. When I talk about something, he's so much a part of me that he instantly articulates my feelings to me which tells me he really feels what I feel. It's like magic to me. He's my perfect match and I never live a day in doubt of it or wishing for a different life. The only thing we get crosswise on is adoption... I really want a black baby and he just won't cooperate. Maybe that's the thing that will make our adoption story so great someday. LOL!
Yep, last night marked eight great years since our wedding on the bluff. I made him his favorite homemade pizza and laid on the couch with my feet in his lap getting an exquisite foot massage while he watched a hockey playoff game. Well, except when the game got intense... then there were long pauses in the massage but thats what made it a Jody massage. :-)
So, to my friends in search of the perfect match, that's what it looks like. I guess it's not Hugh Jackman jumping on a horse and hunting down my purse snatcher after all. And as for hopeless romantic...Jody beats the movies to pieces... I just have to get these kids shipped off to college so we can resume our hollywood romance of tealight candles, chocolate covered strawberries, bubble bath and champagne. Well... maybe we'll start with getting our own bedroom soon. :-)